#you can see the design for her armor slowly come together... i have MUCH art of her but these are some of the first pieces i made

[whalefill]

the two main characters from the fantasy story i've been so busy writing with my best friend :-)

[where-dreamers-go]

“Part 6/Finale - Treasure” Riley Poole x Reader

(A/N: Requested. Ready to go into the treasure room? What treasures lie within? And what treasure will you discover after you make it out?

Thank you so much for the support and love for this series! I love these characters so much. I think I might love Riley Poole more now than I did at the start of writing this series, if that’s possible.

I hope you enjoy this final part!!!

Also, thank you @ivorydragoness44 for proofreading!

Warnings: That pesky sprained ankle. Mentions of all the dangers that our lovable characters went through.

Check out: Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

Word Count: 6,465 words)

“The all-seeing eye.” Ben whispered as he ran a hand over one of the carved-in walls. “‘Through the all-seeing eye.’” The lit torch in his hand illuminated the old art on the wall. A single eye. He brush away at thick layers of dirt and dust.

“That means…” Riley said his thoughts out loud, “by the time lan figures it out and comes back here, we’ll still be trapped, and he’ll shoot us then. Either way, we’re gonna die.”

You gave a light squeeze to Riley’s hand.

Ben looked to all of you with a soft, confident gaze, “Nobody’s gonna die.”

There was a pause.

“There’s another way out.”

Riley all but rushed forward, not letting you go and urged you to move as he asked, “Where?”

“Through the treasure room.”

A push of Ben’s thumb onto the dusty surface and the set-in wall with the all-seeing eye roared to life. Air and rocks moving.

Ben and Riley shared joyous smiles.

Reaching over, Ben handed you the torch to hold before turning back to the wall. Ben started to slide it to the left.

“I got it,” Riley whispered, taking the torch from you and giving a quick glance down at your probably still swollen ankle.

“Here.” Patrick handed Abigail the torch. He went immediately to help his son. In only a few moments, they had gotten the wall to really start moving. Dust and dirt falling from a dark new opening as it revealed itself.

“Riley.” Ben nodded and he was given the torch back. He crossed over the short half wall.

Patrick went next after Abigail gave him back the torch he had been using. Then she went before you as you pulled your hand from Riley’s and bounded over the small obstacle.

It was another enclosed room, larger and no less dusty. Various items were scattered across the floor either broken or covered in cobwebs. Anything left was either a decorative pillar or had held something at a point in time.

On your left sat a trunk long ago opened and emptied.

Abigail let out a short and heavy sigh.

Whatever joy you had when the wall opened had faded.

It was basically an empty room. No treasure. No history from other civilizations. Just dust.

It’s empty.

You looked up to see Ben’s back. The torch out to the side as his shoulders slouched.

Oh, Ben, you thought sadly. All this work.

“Looks like someone got here first.” Riley whispered.

“I’m sorry, Ben.” Abigail said.

“It’s gone.” Ben looked around to the other side of the room before facing away from you all again.

“Listen, Ben…” Patrick said as he slowly walked forward.

“It may have even been gone before Charles Carroll told the story to Thomas Gates.” Ben muttered.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I know. ‘Cause you were right.”

“No, I wasn’t right.” Patrick stated firmly.

You watched on in silence and surprise.

“This room is real, Ben. And that means the treasure is real.” Patrick stood before Ben. “We’re in the company of some of the most brilliant minds in history, because you found what they left behind for us to find and understood the meaning of it. You did it, Ben. For all of us. Your grandfather, and all of us. And I’ve never been so happy to be proven wrong.”

Your eyes started prickling with emotion. It had been a long while since Patrick and Ben had just talked. No arguments. Just honesty and positivity.

If only the disappointment in the air wasn’t so thick.

You hoisted yourself up to sit on a stone surface. Relief rushed to your feet and tender ankle. Riley soon joined you on your right.

“I just…” Ben walked over to lean against a surface. “Really thought I was gonna find the treasure.”

“Okay.” Patrick said, standing tall. “Then we just keep looking for it.”

You smiled.

Abigail took a step or so closer and said, “I’m in.”

“I’ve got time.” You pipped up.

“Okay.” Ben breathed out, looking between all of you.

“Not to be Johnny Rain Cloud here,” Riley spoke up, “but that’s not gonna happen. Because as far as I can see, we’re still trapped down here.”

“Yeah.” Abigail’s eyebrows drew together.

That didn’t settle right with you. It wasn’t fair. It didn’t fit. You couldn’t quite grasp it.

That doesn’t really add up. It’s old enough, you thought as you considered you were at a dead-end.

“Now, Ben, where is this other way out?” Riley asked.

“Well, that’s it.” Ben stood straighter as his voice held his growing confidence. “It doesn’t make any sense, because the first thing the builders would have done after getting down here was cut a secondary shaft back out for air…”

“Right.” Patrick was already back to the right side of the room.

“...and in case of cave-ins.” Ben started to move, heading straight for a decorative wall with Abigail at his heels.

You watched your best friend tentatively. There was no doubt that he could find something. Anything. From what you could see from a distance away, Ben was eyeing and touching discs on a wall. One in particular.

“Could it really be that simple?” Ben muttered and reached into a pocket where he had stashed away the pipe.

You leaned closer to catch his words, practically about to support yourself on Riley’s left thigh just to see what was happening.

“‘The secret lies with Charlotte.’” Ben placed the small decorative ship piece into the section of the wall.

No one else spoke as Ben slotted in the second piece of the pipe and started to rotate the disc counterclockwise. Sounds of stone and mechanisms filling the room softly.

click

Ben then pushed the circular piece in.

WOOSH

Air rushed into the room as a wall started to move at the far side of the room. The fire on the torches becoming a small hazard for a few moments.

Wait. What? It’s…Charlotte was the key more than once? …brilliant.

Riley stood from the stone, eyes fixated to the opposite wall.

You were careful when hoping off of the stone. Your ankle only complaining a little. Not that it could damper your rising spirits.

Everyone was quietly in awe.

Wasting no time, Patrick walked swiftly to the new opening.

With a bright smile and a bounding step, Riley went straight towards the room’s exit.

From the new opening, you stepped through to the right. On either side, walls were decorated with art, their color still visible.

It was like a lucid dream.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stopped beside your friends at the opening. Both your mind and eyes were trying to process and believe what was laid out in the open area. From what you could see from the torches’ light, the room had treasure across every suitably open surface. Glancing around the room, there were statues from Egyptian times, cobweb covered trunks, various sized statues from different cultures, vases, candle holders, trinkets, and world history. You were literally surrounded by history.

Ben finally joined the four of you. Silent. Taking it all in.

Abigail moved first. Her steps taking her farther into the room.

Blinking your senses back, you took gentle steps onward to one of the tables.

Patrick started towards the left.

Riley tentatively started forward.

It was all so much like a dream. Beautiful and everything you could hope to be surprised with after the journey that had to be made to get there.

How long had the treasure all sat there without an eye to look at it nor a hand to touch it? How long since fresh air had circulated through its halls and secret rooms?

Your hands remained at your sides. Treasure and history was right in front of you, however your awe was still overwhelming. Your feet took you to another table, slowly. Still absorbing that you were there.

“Scrolls from the library at Alexandria. Could this be possible?” Abigail whispered from somewhere behind scrolls stacked on shelves.

But…they were burned…destroyed in two different occasions, you thought in wonder. What else was saved? Hidden.

Peeking up, you were just able to see Patrick off at a section where there were suits of armor.

Now, that’s something sleek-looking. What metal alloys are they exactly made from? We need to date this—

Your gaze was caught to something on a table. “No way,” your voice was hushed as your eyes couldn’t pick one place to focus on first. “This doesn’t look entirely Egyptian. How many cultures made similar designs?” You made your way through the various and incredible pieces of history. Afraid to actually touch anything, you settled for looking incredibly close. It was easy to totally ignore the slight ache in your ankle because it was not the time for that.

“It’s a big...bluish-green man, with a strange-looking goatee. I’m guessing that’s significant.” Riley said from somewhere behind you.

He’s so freakin’ cute.

Grinning, you looked to see where Ben had gone to investigate. You hadn’t heard a sound from him. He was at the top of a set of stairs. He sifted his hand through something before lowering the torch.

Fire ignited and roared down between stairs, sectioned into three routes, and sectioned off again and again. Busts, statues, flags, literature, and more were made visible as fire illuminated the rest of the room. A huge room. Years of world history underneath everyone’s noses.

Ben slowly walked over to a railing and you all joined him. Patrick to Ben’s left and Abigail to his right. Dusty pillars with paint chips stood tall at sections of the railing, one of which stood between Abigail and Riley. Your spot was all of the open space beside Riley with a view of possibly thousands of pieces of history.

“Yes!” Patrick cheered, throwing an arm around his son.

You smiled to Abigail as you all but bounced on your feet.

“This is amazing.” You said.

The room extended yards out. Almost every inch of space had to be covered or stacked with some part of history.

“Riley, are you crying?” Abigail asked.

You looked over at your friend. Indeed, his eyes shined with tears.

“Look.” Riley swallowed. “Stairs.” His gaze was fixated to the very far side of the large room, if you could call it simply a room, there were wooden steps leading up to an exit.

Thank goodness, you thought. But I will risk my ankle being slightly more swollen if I can have a little look around before leaving for fresh air. I can take it.

Glancing back to Riley, you wrapped an arm behind Riley’s shoulders and he was quick to tuck himself into your hug.

“We’re getting out of here alive.” You said the first words that had barely went through your mental filter.

He wiped his hands over his eyes, “Yeah.”

“And with extra knowledge.”

Abigail gave you smile.

Hearing Riley sniffle, you added, “Let it out, Riley. Let it out.”

Zigzagging your way through stacks of knowledge and towering statues, the five of you reached the stairs in the fair back. A large statue stood beside it, practically on its way to reach the ceiling. How that statue in particular had gotten down there, you could only have a few educated guesses.

The group of you had carefully gone up the stairs before being greeted by more dust and dirt. Those cobwebs had to be older than all of you.

Traveling through more carved out halls, Ben lead the way with a torch in hand.

“Hey, does anyone still have their cell phone?” Ben asked.

“Hold up,” you spoke up as you reached into your pocket.

“Mine’s dead.” Riley said flatly.

After holding the power button on your phone and the small screen flashed on, you saw just one colorful light spot.

“Geez.” You blinked a few times. Once your phone had turned on, the tiny battery bar was extremely low. “Uh. Maybe you could spare one call?”

“Great. I need to make a call to Agent Sadusky.” Ben explained.

“Alright, here—Really?” You grumbled.

Your cell phone’s screen turned black.

“There goes that idea.” Riley added.

“Eh,” you pocketed your phone.

You only heard Patrick chuckle behind you, though you were certain it wasn’t because of the cell phones. Thrilled by finding treasure perhaps?

“Looks like this is our exit.” Ben announced as he stopped at a dead end where you all would have to crawl again. “Hold this?” He handed Abigail the torch.

The four of you crouched down to watch as Ben kicked and kicked. An exit crumbled open.

Ben coughed as he knelt through the opening to the church.

“Hi. Do you have a cell phone I could borrow?” Ben asked, his head peering out.

. . .

Back inside the church, above ground, the real world trickled back into your thoughts. Breathing felt easier, if only a fraction.

Ben had called the FBI. He had asked to speak with someone called Sadusky and told them you were all at Trinity Church with the Declaration of Independence.

After he had gotten off of the phone, Ben reassured you all not to worry and that he would handle it. What ever might happen, it was his doing.

The five of you were accompanied by quiet FBI agents at the back doors and in a row of seating.

An air of uncertainty hung around the group of you.

Who you assumed to be the agent Sadusky walked down the aisle with a hand in his pocket. Ben sat at the small set of steps at the alter waiting.

You silently made your way into one of the back rows, eyes on Ben. Riley, Abigail, and Patrick filed in after you as eyes were on Ben handing the Declaration to the man. Your futures on the line.

Clenched fingers rested on your knees. Your heart rate raising once again.

Would they take Ben back with them? You thought sadly. Would they take us too?

The two men stood in front of one another. Without a word or moment of hesitation, Ben handed over the Declaration of Independence in its cylinder.

“Just like that?” Agent Sadusky asked.

“Just like that.” Ben answered.

“You do know you just handed me your biggest bargaining chip?” He lifted up the cylinder for emphasis.

“The Declaration of Independence is not a bargaining chip. Not to me.”

“Have a seat.”

You swallowed, trying to hide your nerves. To steel them because none of you knew how it would turn out. Were you all in deep trouble still? It was all so complicated.

“So what’s your offer?” Agent Sadusky asked, sitting on the steps beside Ben.

“Oh…How about a bribe? Say...ten billion dollars?” Ben said nonchalantly.

“I take it you found the treasure?” He sounded a hint impressed.

“It’s about five stories beneath your shoes.” Ben gestured.

“Hm. You know, the Templars and the Freemasons believed that the treasure was too great for any one man to have, not even a king. That’s why they went to such lengths to keep it hidden.”

“That’s right.” Ben was looking at the man, really looking. Learning about the agent through each word spoken. “The Founding Fathers believed the same thing about government. I figure their solution will work for the treasure too.”

“Give it to the people.”

“Divide it amongst the Smithsonian, the Louvre, the Cairo museum…There’s thousands of years of world history down there. And it belongs to the world, and everybody in it.” Ben stated in a mixture of awe and passion.

“You really don’t understand the concept of a bargaining chip.” The agent teased lightheartedly.

You smiled, absentmindedly rubbing under your eye. Beside you, Riley had lowered his head with a pleasant grin on his face.

“Okay, here’s what I want.” Ben said more firmly. “Doctor Chase gets off completely clean, not even a little Post-it on her service record.”

“Okay.”

“I want the credit for the find to go to the entire Gates family, with the assistance of Mr. Riley Poole and (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N).”

Whoa.

“And what about you?” Agent Sadusky asked.

“I’d really love not to go to prison. I can’t even begin to describe how much I would love not to go to prison.” Ben’s gaze had set elsewhere, far away.

“Someone’s got to go to prison, Ben.”

Well how about the guy who locked us in The Charlotte and left us for dead! You thought, still incredibly bitter and for a good reason.

“Well, if you’ve got a helicopter, I think I can help with that.” Ben smiled.

Did Ben say what I think he said? Oh, please. Please.

. . .

Safety and ease had never felt as good as it did then. You and Riley were sitting in your apartment. Quiet and ears still trained for any unknown sound.

You had been promised that it was alright to go. It was better to be safe than sorry and freaking out later.

The both of you had been cautious as you had ventured farther into the place. Eyes darting to each corner and checking each room. To say that you two had been through a lot would be over simplifying.

You about leaped out of your skin when your phone rang. Pulse up, you hurried over to where your phone and Riley’s were charging by the wall. Holding up the phone you read the caller ID: Ben

“Hello?” You answered after flipping your phone open.

“Hey. You two alright?” Ben asked over the phone.

“Yeah. Still jumpy though. My apartment’s fine. Nothing moved. You?”

Riley had rushed up beside you, ear leveled to your phone.

“They got Ian.” Ben’s words sent a wave of relief through you.

“Thank you,” Riley sighed.

“They got Powell and the others too.” Ben added.

“Hey, let us know when you’re back.” Riley spoke into the phone as you held it between you.

“I will. It’ll probably be pretty late though.”

“Doesn’t matter. Just call one of us at least.” You said.

“I will. It’s late, you two should sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you and Riley said in unison.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

You ended the phone call.

“It’s over,” Riley said. The disbelief still waving over him.

“Yeah. It’s kind of weird.”

He rose an eyebrow.

“It’s almost like it didn’t happen.” You clarified.

“But it did. And I’m going to have a hard time forgetting any of it.”

You put your phone back down and headed back to the couch. Reaching over to the table, you grabbed the ice pack and set it back onto your ankle once you were settled. You took over most of the couch, Riley had to make sure not to accidentally bump your foot as he sat on the far cushion.

Had you missed your couch? Considering the amount of running around and sleeping in a car, yes.

Sighing, you stretched out on the couch a little more.

“Does it still bother you?” Riley asked.

“Hmm?”

“Your ankle.”

“A little, not much. I just want it healed up.” You said before letting out a yawn.

Riley nodded. His eyes focusing elsewhere.

“They didn’t…Ian didn’t hurt you when they took you, did he?” Riley asked, eyes meeting yours.

“They didn’t try anything.” You reassured him. “I’ve known them for a handful of years, so…I figured out how to get what I needed and make them uncomfortable. Just enough.”

He scrunched up his face, “How? I mean…wait, when we got to the church you were wearing different clothes.”

“You’d be surprised how logical, persuasive, and slightly annoying I can be.”

“You being logical isn’t a surprise,” Riley chuckled. He scooted further into the comforts of the couch. “Especially if it gets you out of something.”

You smiled.

Stretched out on the couch, safe in your apartment with everything in its place, you closed your eyes. Your friends were alright and free to go about their lives, especially after Ben telling the FBI where Ian would be. Soon Ben would be able to relax as well. Ben knew that Riley was with you, both of you mildly paranoid after everything that had happened since finding The Charlotte. Hence why you had about leaped six feet into the air when your phone rang earlier.

You were finally able to relax knowing that Ben was on his way home.

No radio was on. No television set to disrupt the silence. An empty pizza box was still sitting on the counter in the kitchen from hours earlier. You had elected to throw it out later. The two of you had basically inhaled the pizza no sooner it had arrived. It was the best pizza you had eaten in a long while.

The apartment was quiet in the late hours of the day and held only familiarity. It was a wonder that neither you nor Riley had fallen asleep yet.

Maybe I had one slice too many, you thought.

Still being slightly full from pizza was a dilemma you were willing to put up with. Also being glad that all danger had passed, none of you were going to prison, you were alive, and the treasure was beyond what you imagined.

Everything turned out fine.

You rolled your foot, testing for soreness. Icing your ankle was one of the best things that had happened to you in at least a week.

“It’s been about twenty minutes,” Riley murmured. “I think you can take the ice off again.”

You made a small noise in your throat, but made no effort to move.

What was another two minutes? Or five?

Ben had yet to call. You and Riley were both close to dozing off on the couch.

Quiet and unmoving. Calm and security.

Your breathing evened out, becoming deeper.

The last thing you remembered before going to sleep was Riley unfolding a throw blanket and a comforting warmth enveloping you.

. . .

Three months later.                   

The last three months had been vastly different and almost dreamlike. Firstly, your ankle was fine after a few days. Secondly, the names Gates, Poole, and (Y/L/N) were populating the historical society. Then as time went, you no longer lived in an apartment complex with paper thin walls, you had money investing, you lived where you could actually hang shelves on the walls, you were more involved in the historical community, and you were even happier than you could ever recall.

On a similar spectrum, Ben and Abigail had finally chosen a home together. Their relationship had become quite serious over the past couple of months.

Walking along the grass, the couple led you and Riley out in the yard as a last look around before you and Riley were to leave. Greens all around you, from the grass to the trees. Fallen leaves scattered across the lawn. Between leaving their house tour and strolling through the yard, Riley had received a call.

“Yeah. You got it, chief. Thank you. Bye.” Riley said before pocketing his phone.

You looked over expectantly.

“They want us in Cairo next week for the opening of the exhibit. They’re sending a private jet.” Riley said.

“That’s fun.” Abigail smiled.

“Yeah, big whoop.” Riley pulled at his jacket and turned to Ben. “We could have had a whole fleet of private jets. Ten percent, Ben. They offered you ten percent and you turned it down.” He was clearly slightly bitter and upset about the arrangement still.

“Riley, we’ve been over this. It was too much. I couldn’t accept it.” Ben said softly.

Riley leaned closer, showcasing his right index finger.

“I still have this splinter that’s been festering for three months from an old piece of wood.”

“Okay,” Ben stopped and the rest of you did as well. “I’ll tell you what. Next time we find a treasure that redefines history for all mankind, you make the call on the finder’s fee.” Both Ben and Abigail smiled.

“That’s not as funny.” Riley looked between the pair. “What do you care? You got the girl.” Riley turned his head to Abigail.

His tone deflated you. You kept your sights on the couple.

“It’s true.” She said happily.

“It’s true.” Ben wrapped an arm around Abigail and pulled her in for a kiss.

You smiled and shuffled a foot.

Once they parted from their display of affection, they grinned at their friend.

“Rub it in.” Riley started walking the short distance to his red sports car. “Enjoy your spoils…”

Ben sent you a friendly wink and a head nod towards Riley, who was stepping up to his car.

You gave a wary expression to which Abigail gestured with her hands for you to get moving.

My life, you thought and looked to the sky briefly.

Riley hopped into his car and continued his miniature rant, “While I sit on one percent. One stinkin’ percent. Half of one percent, actually.”

You climbed into the passenger’s seat and buckled up.

“One percent. Unbelievable.” He muttered beside you.

“I’m sorry for your suffering, Riley.” Ben said as he leaned on the car.

“For the record,” Riley looked over, “Ben, I like the house.”

Riley put on his sunglasses.

“You know,” Ben stood straight and his hands started gesturing happily, “I chose this estate because in 1812 Charles Carroll met…”

“Yeah, someone that did something in history and had fun. Great. Wonderful.” Riley said sarcastically as he started the car.

You grinned over at Ben and Abigail, “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Could have had a bigger house.” Riley started driving off.

So dramatic, you thought as you waved to both Abigail and Ben.

As Riley turned along the graveled driveway, he ran over green grass. The gears of the car crunching.

“Riley.”

“I got it. I got it.”

Adjusting back onto the driveway, Riley gassed it. The engine roaring perfectly.

An easy smile pulled on your lips.

He totally loves this car.

In the car, on the road back to your house, you switched to another radio station. The volume relatively low even with the wind rushing passed.

There was something on your mind that you knew you had to ask. A few things actually. It was one that was starting to nag you, but only because you didn’t ask earlier.

You looked over to Riley and placed a gentle hand on his jacket sleeve.

“Is that suede?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice. It looks good.” You returned your hand to your lap.

“Thank you.”

The car continued down the long stretch of road, trees seeming to blur on the far sides.

“You know,” you started, “Your finger is fine.”

“Wha—.”

“I gave you Neosporin and then the next day I even used Vicks. I checked it with a magnifying glass. You’re fine.” You laughed.

“It’s festering!” Riley complained before a grin appeared on his face as he kept his eyes on the road.

The little stinker! You thought as you laughed again. It felt good. The laughing and spending time with Riley. It felt natural.

You thought back to the past three months where there had literally been an entire phone call that Ben dedicated to telling you all the reasons why you should ask Riley on a date or flat out confess or show your feelings.

“We have been shot at, escaped an exploding ship, chased, threatened, and forced into unfavorable conditions. You can tell Riley how you feel about him.” Ben reasoned over the phone.

“I can’t do th—.”

“Yes, you can. You care about him, don’t you?”

“Yes. He’s my friend, I wouldn’t want—.”

“Then you can tell him. I know you can. Take the chance, (Y/N). It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

“If anything bad or negative happens I’m gonna blame you or just complain. Every phone call.”

“Fine. Just tell Riley how you feel.”

Could you though? That was the question.

Would it be worth it? If it doesn’t turn out…right, you thought. What if I’m literally just a friend to him? Nothing more or added? Yeah, Ben would be giving me a hard look right now for thinking that, wouldn’t he?

What would Riley do if he knew what you were thinking? You weren’t sure.

Without a doubt you knew that Riley was good and helpful. One of the most genuinely friendly people you had ever had the pleasure of knowing. Riley was fun and willing to lend a hand when asked. He had helped you with your computer more than once. Just little things. It might not have been much of a hassle for him, but you really appreciated him. You had movie nights together when Riley wasn’t interested in one of Ian’s poker game nights. Riley always brought over a different snack and favored not having to share with a large group. He never hounded you with questions when you’d show him the basics on how to package art in order to ship it. There was a day when Riley let you hang out in his van when someone you met at a networking event wanted to pick you up for lunch. Then looking for the treasure and what that entailed. You weren’t sure what you wouldn’t do for that man.

Riley had even helped you move in to your new place. He still brought up about your easel that pinched his fingers and fell on his foot. It was never entirely a serious comment, always followed by a small smile from him. Which incidentally was brought up on the ride to Abigail and Ben’s house.

If you were actually going to tell Riley how you felt about him then you dearly hoped all those times that felt like you two were flirting were actual flirting moments. It had definitely felt like it at those times or afterwards when you thought about it. Sometimes you were too in the moment to tell.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?” You glanced over to see Riley looking at you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Okay,” he returned his sights to the road.

You’re fairly certain Riley wasn’t convinced.

. . .

Soon your home came into view and Riley pulled the car up to the front. Parking the car, Riley turned to you reflexively.

“Would you like to come inside for a bit?” You asked as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

“Yeah. Sure. Could use the not-chosen-specifically-for-historical-reasons scenery.”

You barked a laugh and both of you jumped out of the car. Honestly, you didn’t think he ever used the doors. It made you feel like a tv action hero anyway.

Unlocking the door, you walked inside before stepping aside to let Riley in before closing the door.

“You want something to drink?” You asked as you took off your shoes.

“Yeah. Whatever you have is fine.”

With a smile you headed towards the kitchen, setting your keys and such on a side table. It was good to be home. A place that was actually your own. No worries about neighbors upstairs or downstairs. Added that you could hang whatever you wanted on the walls. Historical art and artifacts included.

Reaching the kitchen, you stood at the sink after you grabbed two drinking glasses.

The sound of feet padding across the floor alerted you to Riley walking in.

“So…how’s that friend of yours?” Riley tone had a slight weight to it. “The one who got you into the Gala?”

“Oh,” you laughed lightly and handed Riley a glass of water. “They’re fine. Nothing really new to report. Although, I think they even told their mom what happened—the treasure. Well…I mean, I didn’t tell them everything. Obviously.”

“Are you going to invite them to go to Cairo?” He leaned on the counter.

“No.”

His eyebrows rose for a split second.

“I hadn’t even thought about it.” You cringed and added, “I wouldn’t be obligated to do that right? We’re friends, but I don’t want to invite them to everything.”

“N-no. You could, uh, you could bring them back a souvenir instead.” Riley suggested.

“That sounds like the safer way to go.”

As quiet settled, you drank some water.

I’m sure my friend will expect something else to happen if I invite them. You thought. All considering last time and I know they were questioned.

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy being with your other friend, it was just that they weren’t the type of person you would feel comfortable with on a trip. They were someone you only really saw in professional or business type settings and not going to the movies with. You liked them, but you did not want to worry about giving them a certain amount of attention while in Cairo. There were things you wanted to experience freely. No awkward conversations. Added that you didn’t want to say everything you did while protecting the Declaration of Independence. There were certain things you only wanted to do with your close best friends.

“Do you think we’ll be able to go on some tours while we’re there?” You asked abruptly.

“If we arrange for some, sure. But you know if you mention it to Ben, we’ll be signed up for every tour.”

“No harm in that.”

“As long as we don’t go into any more tombs.”

“Oh, no, no, no. We don’t know what sort of technology-magic was used back then. I’m not getting cursed. Thank you.”

Riley smiled over the rim of the glass.

“Hey, you watched The Mummy.” You gestured with your glass.

“We watched The Mummy last year on one of our movie nights.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He smirked before saying, “You were researching Egyptian history for a month. You kept telling Ben that there could be some Egyptian history in the treasure because of their ships.”

“And?” You looked at him expectantly.

“And…I saw the treasure too.”

“Um-hm.”

Shaking his head, he smiled while looking into the glass of water.

You sort of just watched him.

Admiring, not being creepy. You peered away to the counter.

A sudden thought struck you: Now with the treasure found, how often would you see your friends?

Ben and Abigail had their privacy and work. Riley started mentioning how he wanted to write something. Sure, friends needed to be on their own paths, I know that. But…can I have more? Am I allowed more?

You could practically see Ben’s face raising an eyebrow.

Oh, crap. Your stomach twitched into knots. This is it, isn’t it?

Raising the rim of the glass to your lips, you practically drank the rest of the water. Stalling was something you weren’t against. But how long could you do it for?

“Okay,” you said quietly. Eyes trained on the counter for a bit longer even as you felt Riley’s eyes on you. You set the drinking glass down.

I can do this. You got this. Just blurt it out. If anything, I can go hide in a room or call Ben later.

“I’m just gonna lay everything out there,” you took a couple of breathes. Then you made eye contact with Riley’s blue eyes. “I think we have something. I’m pretty sure…yeah?” Your arms hung loosely at your sides. You were unsure, hopeful, and scared.

The silence that followed frightened you and disheartened you to no end.

“Yeah.” Riley said softly.

“Yeah? Oh. Good—I mean, okay.” Weight lifted from you shoulders, but you practically sank to the countertop. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, a wide smile gracing his features. “You like me.”

“Yeah.” You heavily emphasized the word.

Those deep blue eyes stared back at you like there were sparklers somewhere within them. He hardly moved.

Is this seriously happening? Am I breathing? He looks so happy.

Your heart could have melted right there at the sight of him.

Glass of water on the counter and quite frankly forgotten, Riley continued looking at you. Questions and comments no doubt flying through his mind every second before he could voice them.

“What…what do we do now?” You asked, grinning. Watching him curiously, attentively, you found Riley to be contemplating. You waited.

A crease formed between his brows if only for a few moments. In a couple of steps he had walked up to you. Blue eyes focused intently on your face, each little movement of yours. His hand reached up and rested on your cheek causing your heart to jolt into a faster pace.

Your thoughts seemed to blank. Only visuals and emotions being read thoroughly. You leaned into his touch as your eyes slowly flickered to his lips.

Before you could check his expression, Riley kissed you. Soft yet firm. There was a hand resting on your side and his other lightly on your cheek. Other than that you had no clue what was happening aside from Riley’s lips on yours.

All too soon he pulled out of the kiss with an extra sparkle in his eyes. You both stood there smiling at one another.

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” Riley breathed out. His thumb caressed your skin. “Huh. Guess I should have believed Ben.”

“Glad I finally did.”

A small crease reappeared between his brows.

“Wait, how long had he been telling you to say something?” Riley asked.

You looked away in thought before answering, “Maybe a few months. Maybe longer. By this point it’s probably been a year. He’s been telling you too?” You let out a laugh.

Unbelievable.

“A year?” Riley looked to you then around the kitchen searching for more words.

Suppressing a grin, you pulled him in by his suede jacket for another kiss. Your hands immediately seeking for the nape of his neck where his brown hair always looked the softest. You weren’t disappointed. It felt silkier than his jacket.

“A year?” Riley asked again when you parted.

“I’ve liked you for more than a year though.”

His eyes widened a fraction.

Fingers playing in his hair, you smiled.

“I just thought…I thought since you were nice to everyone that you just saw me as a friend.” He stated.

“I still see you as a friend. I just happen to really like you.”

“But I can ask you out now?”

“Do you want me to ask you out instead?” You smiled widely.

“No.” He said quickly. “It’s fine. You could, but I can do it. You can too. We can do it—date. Good Lord.” Riley dropped his forehead on your shoulder for a few moments.

You pecked a kiss to his ear. “Pick the time and place,” you encouraged. “When’s our first date?”

After a moment, he picked his head up with a twinkle in his eyes and asked, “Why not now?”

~~~~~

~~~~~

(That concludes Part Six - Treasure and the series. I hope you enjoyed it! Hey, I actually wrote an insert reader that went through a whole movie! WOO! I think I have a bigger crush on Riley Poole now… That’s fine. I really, truly want to thank you again for your comments and love for this series. Also thank you for letting me know that you wanted Riley and the Reader to be together by the end. I was second guessing myself a lot about that decision and I’m glad I asked.

MUCH LOVE!

Lastly . . . I think through writing this I made myself bitter about what happened to Ben and Riley on The Charlotte. Can you tell by what the Reader had been thinking? I mean they were locked in the cargo hold! Anyway. I love you! Let’s hope for a fantastic third movie!

If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @imacuteprincess @gingerlaserbeam @cubedtriangle @sledgy14 @thecaptainsgingersnap @awkwardspontaneity

[lonelypond]

Soldier Game: Operation LA Smile, Ch. 4

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.4K, 4/?

Summary: Early morning post party, pre airport encounters.

Morning After

Umi had fallen silent and was staring out the window at the Tokyo skyscape as the rising sun made the metallic towers sparkle; Kotori preferred her view, leaning forward on the sofa, her arm behind Umi, enchanted as Umi couldn’t keep back the cutest yawn, then shaking her night blue hair with a little laugh.

A staff member appeared suddenly, distracting Kotori.

“Minami-sensei?”

“Mmmm.” Kotori acknowledged the presence, but did not go so far as to offer charm.

“The chefs are preparing for breakfast so we thought you might enjoy some coffee and pastries.”

Kotori smiled. This wasn’t invasive, this was a gift to cap off a long night of conversation. “Yes, Umi-chan and I would appreciate that.”

Umi heard her name and turned away from Tokyo. “Kotori?”

“We are getting a breakfast treat.”

“Oh good. I can sleep on the plane, but I do have some last minute packing. Coffee will keep me awake for that.”

“Espressos, quad shots, lots of sugary things in mine,” Kotori giggled.

“”And your guest?”

“Caffe latte. And something on the healthier side.”

“What, no sweets, Umi?” Kotori pouted, ‘but they have the tastiest here.”

Umi’s smile was gentle, “I have already had the sweetest indulgence of tucking the night into dawn in the loveliest company. Coffee and something sturdier than a macaron would be preferred.”

“I will see to it.” Helpful staff bowed out.

“Thank you.” Umi stretched. “That was an indulgence. I have not told so many school stories in years.”

Kotori leaned in a little further, her fingers resting lightly on Umi’s shoulder, still impressed by the texture of the dress, but even more impressed by the feel of the muscle underneath. “I would have loved to see you in your blazer and uniform.” Kotori leaned back and closed her eyes, “I imagine you were so serious.”

Umi shrugged, “I still am. And now I have to get back to work.”

“This wasn’t work?” Kotori asked.

“No.” Umi shook her head. “It was too comfortable. I showed too much of my true self.”

Kotori’s hand covered Umi’s as they stared into different memories of Tokyo, “Thank you.”

###

Maki heard the noises. Kitchen noises. Adding to the headache twinges inside her sinuses and skull. Not her place, she didn’t have a roommate. Unless she’d…Maki bolted up, the white floral sheet falling away, her clothes from last night still on. She recognized the family pictures lined up neatly on the dresser. Eli’s place. Maki relaxed, which only made her head throb worse. But at least if Eli had taken her home, Maki had probably not done anything stupider than what she could remember. She really had to take tequila off her Self Dare list. That would be the adult thing to do.

She managed to stand and head for the kitchen. Eli was putting together breakfast from what looked like leftovers.

“Sorry if I woke you. Figured I might as well use what’s in the refrigerator. We’ll be in LA for a month.”

“Why are you up so early?”

“Yazawa needs to go somewhere and we’re officially on bodyguard duty.”

“Where the hell does she need to go this early?”

“I don’t ask, I just drive. I was supposed to stop by the office and meet Nozomi to double check all the arrangements but now...” Eli near pouted.

Maki winced. The sun was bright and Eli’s idea of flirting as bonding over paperwork was just nutso. “I’ll drive Nico. Just hand me the food.” Maki stretched out a hand.

“Are you all right to drive?”

“I sweated out all the tequila on the dance floor. Now I’m just a shell over throbbing pain. And I intend to be in a bad mood so someone who deserves it might as well suffer with me.”

Eli laughed, “What did Nico do to deserve you?”

Maki blushed, growled, and grabbed the plate, nearly running for Eli’s couch.

“Civilized people eat at tables.” Eli teased.

Maki had shoved enough food in her mouth to prevent conversation and just pointed to her chipmunk cheeks with the fork.

“You have to pick Nico up in 40 minutes. She’s at the hotel.”

Maki froze. Nico was at the hotel. Still. In the FeatherSmile suite. With…? Images of Nico leaning over to kiss her signature over and over again, on lacy black, pink, blue, brown, gold, and sheer bras, on giggling women with no shirts and no shame, each offering Nico a lingering view, inviting more attention, shoved into the back of Maki’s eyes with more force than the hangover.

“Maki? Change your mind?”

Maki swallowed and shook her head, “No, I’ll do it.

“Thanks. US Customs twists everything up in petty. Plus, one office doesn’t know what another is doing. Nozomi sounded so frustrated about it.”

Maki frowned, “Are FeatherSmile handling their own baggage? Have they been complaining.”

“Yes.” Eli answered slowly, “And no. Maybe they know tricks. They’ve done trunk shows all over North and South America.”

“It’s an odd business setup.”

Eli considered, “Not really. They’ve been trying to break into the big fashion events, Milan, London, Toronto, New York, Miami...and even if their events were virtual only, they insisted on using local locations and vendors. Very detailed planning to support a solid strategy.”

“They’re thinking bigger than Tokyo.”

“World domination.” Eli chuckled, “I suppose you were asleep on a sofa when Nico gave her Number One Designer In the Universe toast. She’s bold.”

“Yeah.” Maki muttered, too wired to filter memories that proved Eli’s statement. Then the practical part of her brain kicked in. Nico had seen her last night, in these clothes. “I have to borrow clothes.”

Eli shook her head, “You know where my closet is. And remember,” Eli glanced at her swellegant vintage watch, “You have to be there in 37 minutes. So pick your outfit faster than…”

“Shut up, Eli.” Maki growled and headed into Eli’s bedroom. Pants and a shirt should work. Maki should just keep a change of clothes here. She crashed on the couch often enough. Umi’s morning routine, which began at dawn, was designed to deter lingerers.

###

Loose light blue linen shirt, navy pants, braided belt, Maki kept her own shoes, Eli had driven her car so Maki had an embroidered bomber jacket tossed in the trunk. Sliding it on was like sliding into armor. Whatever Yazawa had to throw in her direction, charm, orgy partners, anger, Maki would just let it slide off the nylon shoulders, to be eaten by the tiger snarling on the back.

Eli had Nico’s number so Maki texted her when she arrived at the hotel. Sooner than seemingly possible, the door opened. Nico. In a trench coat, mask, and sunglasses.

“You’re not my ride.”

“You look ridiculous.”

“Nico managed to get through the lobby without signing lingerie so discreet is the adjective you want to use. And why is it you? Can’t stand to be away from Nico?” Nico slid into the seat, blowing a kiss as she buckled in and Maki scowled. Nico pointed up. “Can’t you afford a roof?.”

“It’s a classic Porsche.” Maki hissed.

“It’s a disaster for Nico’s hair.”

Maki ignored that, “Where do you need to go?”

Nico mentioned a street Maki didn’t recognize. Maki started to type it into her phone’s mapping app.

“Nico will tell you. The turns are quick.”

“Is it your apartment?”

“My mom’s. I’m making my siblings breakfast.”

Surprised by the answer, Maki forgot to engage the clutch. She winced at the chattering noise; Nico giggled.

Maki snapped, “Do you have the time? This is important.”

Nico’s voice chilled, “Nico will be out of the country or quarantining for at least two months. I’m making my siblings breakfast before I go. The sooner you start the car, the more time Nico gets to spend with them.”

Maki’s cheeks flushed as she merged with traffic. “Which way?”

“Take a left. How fast does this thing go?”

Maki grinned. That was a question she would enjoy answering,

###

“Just park the car and come up for breakfast. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

“Not much.”

“Nico’s making pancakes. It’ll be amazing. Mama keeps a spot for Nico’s car so you can take it.”

“I’ll be intruding.”

“If you stay in your roofless car Nico will feel guilty. Plus,” Nico leaned over, staring intensely at Maki’s face, “You look hungover.”

“I do not.” Maki snapped.

“Nico knows what hungover looks like and last night, it was too much tequila on the dance floor.”

Maki flared red. “Were you watching me?”

“Everyone was watching you. Tokyo was watching you.”

Maki wondered if that meant binoculars or something. Nico’s continuing grumble explained, “Half the crowd was livestreaming you, the other half was undressing you in their heads. If we were actually dating Nico would shut down the party and throw them all out…”

Maki couldn’t help what she said next or the meek squeak that accompanied it, “Not me?”

“Nico would have thrown you off the roof. That kind of stupid, useless behavior as a mad attention grab…”

“What about having women strip right in front of everyone as a mad attention grab.”

“Nico is a professional, a lingerie artist. There are expectations, it is art.”

“It’s bull. You just like seeing…”

“Sexy women?” Nico snorted, “Yes, I do. I also like touching them, and I do it very well, if you remember just two days ago when you couldn’t resist Nico’s…”

Suddenly desperate to change the subject, Maki blurted. “I’m parking here right?”

Nico shook her head, Maki thought she might be angry, but her voice was as vapidly bright as ever, “Perfect, Ms. Perfect Ass.”

Maki slammed the door so she could pretend not to have heard.

###

“Hey Eli! Good morning! We got donuts in the office.” Nozomi’s cheerful assistant with unspecified duties waved as Eli turned down the corridor leading to Nozomi’s office. She was glad she’d taken the time to eat a quick, substantial breakfast. Sugar crash was no way to start out a day that would involve a transoceanic flight.

“Thanks, Rin. I already ate.” Eli paused to adjust her rolling luggage as Rin disappeared into the office.

“Eli’s here.”

“Right on time.” Eli heard approval in Nozomi’s voice.

“Of course.” Eli entered the office, closing the door behind her, “Punctuality is the cornerstone of professionalism.

Nozomi raised an eyebrow. She was once again dressed in a dark, formal business suit, the multicolored pattern scattered over her collarless blouse the only hint of personality. “So how’s your go go dancer colleague today?”

Eli paused, taken aback, “Maki?”

Nozomi nodded. Eli couldn’t help it. Nozomi’s implied criticism shocked the friendly out of Eli’s reply. “She’s fine. She and Nico should be wherever Nico needed to be by now.” Eli left her luggage standing by the door, “What is it you needed from me?”

“You said you might be able to help me figure out the paperwork we need for customs.”

Rin didn’t hide her boredom, “I’m gonna load up our ride, Nozomi.”

“Good idea, Rin.” Nozomi was glancing at two open folders, then decided to push one in Eli’s direction, “Take a look at this. Highlight everywhere someone has to initial.”

Eli leaned forward to grab a pen, “Will do.”

Nozomi smiled, “Thank you. Paperwork wasn’t listed as one of your talents.”

Eli winked, “Always keep a few secrets.”

Nozomi nodded back. That’s what she was afraid of.

###

“Nico!!!!!” Nico heard her sister, Cocoa, whining from the living room. But Nico was at the delicate part of the making of pancakes, whisking them full of fluffy and delicious airiness.

“Nico’s busy.”

“Your friend’s cheating.”

“MAKI!”

Nico’s other sister, Cocoro, appeared in the doorway, “I don’t think Maki’s cheating. She just seems to be really good at MarioKart. She hasn’t lost a race yet.”

“Get Cocoa to play another game, one of the party ones where random things happen.”

“Your friend won’t play anything else.”

“Tell her Nico says you get to choose.”

Cocoro nodded and returned to the couch, where Maki was fighting off a last minute surge by Nico’s teenage brother, Cotarou.

“Ha!” Maki raised the controller in a triumphant gesture, “I RULE.”

“Cheater…” Cocoa muttered.

Cocoro stood in front of Maki, who was still getting used to so many people in the same room who looked like Nico, were all younger than her, and all at least slightly taller than Nico. It made her think maybe some tequila was still lingering in her system, in the veins that made her forehead throb slightly if she paused to think about it at all.

“Nico says I get to pick the next game. And I want to play Dance Party.”

Maki sighed and handed over her controller, “I’m taking a break.”

“Rematch.” Cotarou demanded.

“You got it, buddy.” Maki whirled with finger guns and a wink, turning back to hide the wince that came with the spin of disorientation.

“Cool.”

Maki headed Nicoward, drawn partly by the smell of a cinnamony breakfast. She was starting to feel ravenous. Had she eaten anything at the party.

“Did I eat anything at the party?”

Nico turned, tilting her head quizzically, “Nico might have been too busy to monitor your calorie intake.”

Maki sat at the table, “I don’t remember eating much.”

“Did wherever you woke up feed you breakfast?”

“Eli’s spare futon and some kind of leftovers.”

Nico couldn’t get grumpy about a coworker’s spare futon. “Nico’s pancakes require appreciation. This is not an eat and run.”

“Smells good.”

Nico stopped and stared. Maki was sitting at the table, oxford sleeves rolled up, too many buttons undone for a breakfast with Nico’s siblings, long, delicate fingers sorting out tussles in red locks as Maki stretched her head back and carried on a conversation like they had some kind of a normal relationship.

“Had to borrow Eli’s clothes.” Maki frowned, unrolling a sleeve, “they don’t fit.”

“Not designer huh?”

“Oh, no, they’re designer, they’re just tailored for Eli.”

“DIdn’t seem like much difference to me,” Nico decided to test the mood, “Nico hasn’t had a chance to measure your partner yet.”

“Shirt’s too loose.” Maki grumped, pulling on the placket. Apparently there was no mood. Just breakfast. Nico sighed.

“Here. Eat your pancakes.” Nico dropped a plate in front of Maki.

Instead of instantly wolfing them down like Nico expected, Maki shuffled them around with her fork, crumb clumping the syrup Nico had so evenly poured.

“Is something wrong?”

Amethyst eyes examined Nico, and with a pout, Maki decided on a teasing tone, “Your cooking’s not the only thing I’d like to …”

Oh my god. Nico almost swatted Maki with the spatula. “My siblings are in the next room. What is wrong with you?”.

A huge blush flared all over Maki’s face and most of her chest, which the unbuttoned looseness of Eli’s shirt allowed Nico a nearly full view of.

And then Nico smelled the burning. She hadn’t factored bizzaro conversation with crazy sexy really bad at flirty but so so hot...burning hot...burning...Nico jumped as Maki said, “You should flip those.”

“I should flip you.” Nico muttered.

“What?”

Nico scraped the pancakes off the grill. Total loss.

“These are great, Nico.” said the only person in the house with food.

“Of course they are.” Nico kept her voice even, “Now leave Nico alone so no one starves.”

“Okay.” Maki actually sounded contrite so Nico sneaked a peek. Maki was looking glumly at her pancakes.”

“What is it now?”

“You came to cook breakfast for your siblings, not me.”

“Just eat the pancakes, Maki. Nico owes you breakfast. Everyone will get their pancakes. Cute guests always come first.” Nico groaned at her own phrasing, but Maki didn’t react to the subtext, she just bit into her breakfast with another, shyer, blush. Adorable. Nico knew she shouldn’t be enjoying this. Because Nico was on the job. No distractions allowed. A swimsuit shoot with...Nico shook her head, knocking out memories of panting, moaning, fingers sliding down soft, sleek skin, solid, sexy muscles alert to every touch. Nico sighed, barely stopping herself from slamming her head forward, which would have been into the grill. This was going to kill her, wasn’t it?

“Are you all right?” Maki sounded sweet. Like syrup.

Nico straightened up, shaking her head slowly, “Nico’s just dandy. If you keep eating and stop talking, we might get everyone fed.”

“Okay.” Maki grinned, “Then I’m going to win again.”

“Ha! Didn’t anybody tell you Nico is the reigning champ.”

“You’re going down.” Maki continued to calmly, obviously eat pancakes while Nico screamed inside her head, so many pictures rushing across her innervision.

“Pancakes.” Cotarou demanded from the doorway.

Nico said a prayer of thanks to the gods for teenage appetites and waved a spatula at her brother, “Sit next to Maki. Nico’s almost done with this batch.”

“You play pretty well. Is that your favorite game?” Maki asked.

Cotarou shook his head.

“What is?”

“Golf.”

“Oh, I love golf.”

“It’s very silly golf.” Nico relaxed now that the conversation had been diverted, “Full of weird things for golf haters.”

“Sounds like I might like it.” Maki chuckled.

Nico smiled as Cotarou did.

###

Kotori’s calm place was Marie Kondo style laundry folding while a charming samurai of a more ancient vintage than currently available napped soundly on her hotel suite’s couch. Umi didn’t snore, her breaths slow and even, the blanket Kotori had covered her with not moving even a centimeter. Sonoda Umi was as solid as a granite stone in a rushing river and with so many unknowns on this trip, Kotori found that a comfort. Plus, there would be Umi in a swimsuit, eventually, showcasing those muscular curves. Kotori couldn’t wait to get to the fabric draping part of design work once they got to LA. As rapidly as Kotori wanted to dress Umi, she had learned Umi’s pace to anything personal would be more measured. But Kotori would be content to stare at the dreamfuel profile, framed by glossy hair, for as long as Umi needed.

###

Maki felt more awake. Great (not that she’d tell Nico) food, fun with Nico and Nico siblings, laughter...she stretched out her arms. Next would be the drive to the airport. That would only make this mood better. And then she felt the hand on her waist, spinning her, Yazawa Nico staring up with what might be a lethal intensity if Maki hadn’t just casually bumped hips with her on the way out the door in a comradely fashion.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Nico pulled Maki close while pushing them both forward, Maki feeling the car against her back, suddenly breathless.

“What?” Squeaked out.

“EVERYTHING!” Nico flicked the placket of Maki’s shirt, undoing another button. “Buttons flirting being great with my siblings biting your lip fingers hair breathing…”

Nico ran out of words at Maki’s wide eyed look of...surprise, it really was surprise wasn’t it? Damn. This was new level of want, a new surge of must have, must hear, must share this sensation...and suddenly Nico had Maki against the car, lips working up her throat, needing to feel the moan that was about to slip out of Maki’s perfect lips. Nico knew this was crazy, a hormonal teenage level of crazy, in her mama’s garage, with her siblings upstairs, but then Maki dug her fingers in Nico’s back and the only word Nico could think of was the only thing she always wanted to do with Maki.

###

Maki felt the movement and sat up, an oversized coat falling off her torso, her shirt unbuttoned. She hadn’t been wearing a bra. Nico had taken instant advantage of that. And...

“Better cover up.” Nico raised the coat up to Maki’s neck. “We’re almost there.”

“Who said you could drive?”

Nico snorted, “You said yes to everything else.”

“This is my car. It requires handling.”

Nico stared at Maki, oblivious to traffic for a moment, “Did you seriously just say that? To Nico?”

Maki looked away.

“Maybe stay awake next time, Princess. Or be less distracting. Nico has a plane to catch.”

“You’re a nightmare.” Maki wrapped her arms around her torso, too embarrassed to temper her tone.

“That’s not what she...wait...you said…” Nico did a drum roll on the steering wheel.

“Just shut up.” Maki glared out the window at all of Tokyo, missing Nico’s wink.

Nico just laughed as she expertly shifted gears. Maki pulled sunglasses out of her glove compartment. They were staying on until this mission was over.

A/N: Hi. Had a request for another chapter of this, so here we are.

[suspiriu-m]

About Me

Hello! My name is Sal and welcome to my blog, Suspirium! Suspirium is a word that originates from one of my favorite movies, Luca Guadagnino’s 2019 remake of Dario Argento’s classic italian horror movie Suspiria. According to World of Dictionary, Suspirium is a Latin word meaning “Deep breath, sigh”. It’s also the title of one of my favorite songs from the soundtrack to the movie produced by Thom Yorke of Radiohead. I’m a huge horror movie buff so expect to see a lot of that sort of content on my blog if I can incorporate it into any of my work. I chose this as the title of my blog because of how well the word fits into the movie, and I just love the way it sounds. Anybody who’s watched the movie will understand, but I won’t go into detail as to not spoil it for anybody who hasn’t yet seen it.

Throughout my highschool years I technically went to two schools. My main and home school was Middletown High School, and my secondary school was Orange Ulster Boces in Florida New York. In high school I was always in media production and art classes. For example, photography, video editing, drawing & painting classes and my favorite was an Elements of Horror class I took my senior year. Horror being my favorite genre, I absolutely had to take a class that’s dove into the origins of classic horror novels, films and short stories. Leading to me finding my favorite classic horror story Dracula by Bram Stoker, and a multitude of stories by H.P. Lovecraft. Continuing on now to college i’m now majoring in Media Production while also still taking some classes in Marketing and Design! I really enjoy both a lot so it’s hard to kind of pick exactly which I want to do, but it’s nice knowing that no matter what path I finally choose I'll still have some experience in the other!

Aside from my education, I love to watch horror movies and read stories in my own free time. Movies in general are a huge hobby of mine and I watch at least 3-4 a week given I have the time. Some of my favaroties of all time concerning classics have got to be the Halloween series, The Evil Dead series and all four of the Scream movies. Other hobbies of mine that take up a huge part of my life and time are video games and music. I have a pretty big record collection that’s continuously growing with at least 80-90 albums and counting. I just recently purchased a few more to add being Sade’s Diamond Life, Whitney Houston’s Whitney and Whitney Houston albums, Lazaretto by Jack White, Texas Sun by Khruangbin & Leon Bridges and Petals for Armor by Hayley Williams. Hopefully my next additions will be What’s Your Pleasure? by Jessie Ware and The Baby by Samia. I’ve been collecting them for years, but especially now since even CD’s are starting to go out of style. I’m the kind of person who still likes to have physical copies of all my music and movies and games so having such big collection is super special to me.

In terms of video games, I try and play as wide of a variety that I can because I believe I can find something I like in any genre. Strategy, shooters, brawlers, online competitive games etc, but I think my favorite style of game is single-player, narrative driven experiences. Most recently I played The Last of Us Part II and was absolutely enthralled with it. I loved the first game so much so getting a sequel was something I was extremely grateful for. I don’t think video games get enough credit for what they do for storytelling. TLOU 1 and 2 are some of my favorite stories that I have experienced in any form of media. The heartbreak, pain, love, fear and excitement those games have succeeded in giving me while just sitting in front of my TV is something no other form of entertainment has brought me. Some of the most touching moments, but also the most excruciating. They also had a queer women front and center throughout the games which is something that isn’t very common in video games so seeing that was really nice to me. Other than The Last of Us, some other solid narrative driven games I’ve played are God of War, Uncharted 1-4, Marvel’s Spider-Man, The Tomb Raider Reboots, Ghost of Tsushima, the Batman Arkham series and Control.

Although story based games are my favorites that doesn’t mean I don’t have a place in my heart for some good old fashioned fun as well! I also really enjoy a lot of the Super Mario and Legend of Zelda games as well. My biggest pet peeve that I have with the gaming industry right now though is Fortnite. I think it’s literally the most annoying game ever created. People spend hundreds and thousands of dollars just to buy skins and weapon packs and I think it’s absolutely ridiculous. The fact that I work at a major video game retailer and constantly have kids running through my store screaming about the damn game at least once a day could also contribute to my hatred. Either way, I want no part and absolutely nothing to do with it.

Going back to queer representation though. I recently watched Pose over the summer. Not only was the show heavily based during the AIDS epidemic in New York City, almost the entirety of the main cast was comprised of Transgender Black women. On prime time television! This is the first show to ever achieve such a feat. Not only was the cast extremely talented, I thought the writing and production of the show as a whole was brilliant. It definitely has its flaws and I could point out a few of them, but I believe all of the good of the show far outweighs the bad. It’s not afraid to tackle extremely real and difficult subjects the Transgender and Black communities have faced in this country and all over the world. It’s so important to see content like this on television as well because EVERYBODY deserves representation. Not only was the cast Trans, but one of the lead writers of the series Janet Mock is also a Black Trans woman! Pose was filled with heartfelt moments that truly had me sobbing in my bed as I watched. I think I actually cried at pretty much every single episode for both seasons. The cast is brilliant, the realism and talent and star power they bring to the show is like nothing that I’ve ever seen before and I’m so glad to be able to see them up on my television. I so badly one day hope that I can be behind the scenes of producing a show of this caliber some day.

While I have yet to help in the production of a show like this, I have had my fair share of of making short films, music videos and even assisting on a friend of mine’s first full length movie that he submitted to festivals. Last year, I had the opportunity to shoot a short horror film with my classmates for our final project. The film was based around a young woman getting trapped at her school in the middle of a blizzard, and slowly beginning to realize that she may not be alone. In a fight for her life, she has to survive till morning while going up against a mysterious killer who lurks the halls of her small town college. Sadly, we didn’t have enough time to produce a full and finalized cut of the film but coming together and working with a few other classmates was still a really fun experience. Not only was I able to play the role of the killer, I aided in audio, music selection, location scouting, props department, shot planning and writing the movie and it was a great time. I also had the pleasure of helping out my friend Matt Vincini in shooting his short film The Cattle Farmer. A horror/thriller film about a boy who is adopted into a family, only to realize that his life might have been planned from the start. It featured a mysterious woodland family who may or may not have had cannibalistic tendencies that included their adopted children. It was a super cool experience to be on a set with a bunch of actors and seeing my friend in action in the role of director. Collaborating on projects like this with friends is always a fun time, even it does get stressful at some points. At one point in the film, one of the characters realizes that the dinner he is currently eating could quite possible be his last meal ever. Which kinda let me to thinking what my last meal would be. After some thinking, I think i’d definitely have to choose my families homemade pasta and meatballs. I know, pretty stereotypical for an Italian family but it’s just so good. We make our own sauce every september and it’s a huge family event. Everybody comes together and one of our houses and it’s literally a whole days worth of work. The best part? At the end of the night, we all have a huge feast and make pasta and meatballs with all of the sauce we just made. It’s one of my favorite things to do with my family and always one of my favorite meals. Not only is it delicious, but also sentimental.

This is all for now! Thanks for stopping by my blog and reading a little bit about me. I could probably keep rambling on for hours but I don’t think that’s the smartest idea. I can’t wait to fill this blog with more content this year and hope to hear from you guys as well! Until then, i’ll be watching more movies and DEFINITELY playing some more games. At this point i’ve been playing the new Marvel’s Avengers video game so, let me get back to kicking some AIM ass!

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Local Teen Unaware of how Weird Family is, Local Goth Decides To Go All In and Learn Magick, Exhausted Teens Do Fun Dumb Teen Stuff 

It was the day after they’d taken down Skulker, and Tucker had to collect up the armor.  Danny helped him, of course, and he flew home with some help from his favorite ghost boy.  They landed in Tucker’s room, and Tucker gave Danny a hug as soon as the suit was set down.  Danny returned to his warmer flesh and blood self and hugged him back before they got to work searching for a port to plug Tucker’s laptop into.  Thankfully even the dead respected the U in USB and they manage to connect. Before long, however, Tucker’s mind wanders from his code-breaking program that’s now hard at work with Skulker’s head and to his situation with Sam.  And considering what all he’d learned about Danny’s family so far, he might as well ask. “Danny do you have access to transparent solar panels?”

“Yeah, all the windows at Fenton Works are solar panels - I think they run at uh 50% efficiency.  Why?”

“Danny, that’s like, the exact last piece I need for my solar-powered car design.”  Tucker was tempted to inform Danny of how amazing that fact was, but he knew Danny wasn’t a fan of being extraordinary, so he’d let it slide for now.  “Now I just need some way of building it.”

“Well, you have the design itself saved right?”

“Yes…”  Tucker wasn’t sure where this was going, but he was hopeful that it’d be a place he liked.

“We can just print out the design at my house?”  Danny shrugged, as though that was obvious and the most simple thing in the world.  “We have like, a pretty big 3D printer, it’s uh modular, and we use scrapped metal from junkyards that we liquified as filament.  We can print a car pretty quickly.”

Danny was going to say something that made Tucker fall completely in love with him one of these days, the idiot.  “Danny I need you to take me to this 3D printer.  Now.” Skulker’s head was left where they’d put it on his desk, the rest of the suit stuffed in Tucker’s closet, and the pair flew off to Danny’s house.

When they arrived at Fentonworks, they turned to one of the other buildings on the block and set down there, Danny taking the time to unlock the door and everything.  “So this 3D printer you guys have…”

“Well, Dad calls it the Fenton Fabricator.   See, there's a theory that went around a while ago when 3D printers and fabricators first started, it was the Recursive Loop Theory. It goes like this. You buy a 3D printer. Mid-range, sorta useful, but with enough detail and strength that you like it. But then you need something a bit more detailed. So you look online and you find a set of 3D models for a second printer. This one you can build on your machine, and with only some minor parts you can make the more detailed printer for a tiny fraction of what it would cost.”  

Danny took them to a set of stairs and Tucker was so focused on his friend he nearly missed all the art Danny’s ever done hanging all over the walls.  

“So, you can make more detailed parts. And you find designs for a bigger printer. It's modular and sorta rough, but it needs those detailed parts. So you can then build massive somewhat detailed pieces… and so you do. And now, with your 3 printers, you find designs to a fourth. Bigger, better, more detailed, it's another generation, and you can print it off your current designs. Boom, bam, rinse and repeat.  Eventually, your diminishing returns drop till you can’t make a more detailed printer, but at that point, you have one hell of a machine, particularly if you have a couple of crazy hackers building your final design as a custom project. Course, it’s not quite that easy. We had to fabricate a lot of weird and unique bits for them in other ways - well, my folks and their friends in the Secret Scientists did anyway."

“So the Fenton Fabricator?”

“Is a massive, customized high detail 3D fabricator that can even print metal and glass, yes.”  Danny turned on the lights as they entered a large underground workspace. Tucker saw the fabricator and felt he might’ve gone to heaven.  It was a massive aquarium tank, easily twenty feet from corner to corner and at least eight feet tall. Above it, hanging like a mechanical spider on segmented green and red limbs with shiny metal joints and points, was a motorcycle sized 3D printing extruder. Tucker could see a set of lasers for dust printing, a pair of high-heat high-speed extruders for wires, several dozen smaller legs with colors and specific grades of wire, all of which fed up and around the room to spools of plastic and cylinders of dusted metal.

“There are hidden parts in the walls with directed gravity manipulators and some arms kept out of the way until needed for assembly-based stuff.  I think Mom and Dad built a car or something down here recently. The canisters are all refilled completely.” Danny shrugged, moving around the lab and grabbing up papers - notes about what feeds to use, hints for setting things up.  “I can help you connect up and plug in your stuff - though you’ll have to leave it here so that the thing can print. If you’re legit making a car here, it’ll take about 2 days to finish printing it out at all, let alone assemble.”

“Danny, after I finish with that, we are so using this place for other projects together, do you understand me?”  Tucker saw doors that likely lead off to other rooms in the lab and wondered just how Much of Fentonworks there was.  “This is too amazing.”

“If you say so, bro.  Here, let’s get started.  I can help with setting up the print file.”

Sam had to say, going through the bs of school was beyond irritating when both of her friends were barred from the school until they could get around the weapons the Fentons were installing.  Paulina’s gratingly loud personality was especially difficult to tune out that day, and Sam found herself feeling proud of her self control in not throwing something at the shallow cheerleading idiot when she started going on and on about the upcoming spirit week.

Once school was out, Sam grabbed the board that Danny apparently made for her after he finished Tucker’s, though she wasn’t sure how, and put on her helmet.  New, magnetic boots planted firmly on the board, Sam pulled out her phone, put in the address of the Skulk and Lurk, and activated the Nav AI that Tucker had managed to make an app for to download.  “One of these days Tucker is going to overwork himself into an early grave.” Shaking her head Sam took off into the sky, and no amount of gothic reputation could keep the smile off her face or prevent her from cheering.  “Woooohoooo!” Who could possibly blame her? She was flying .  There was nothing more awesome than this that she knew of.

When she arrived, Sam had her board hover itself up to the roof, where it was less likely to get snatched by someone who thought it’d be cool to snag a hoverboard.  Walking into the store, Sam took off her helmet and grinned. The Skulk n Lurk was one part book store, one part poetry reading area, and one part coffee shop. It had the gothic, occult theme down pat with black, blue, and shades of purple being the only colors to be found around the store.  Heading straight into the books section, Sam managed to flag down an employee and nudged him in the arm. “Nice mohawk, Chris, I see you’re branching out.”

Chris turned around, hair dyed a brilliant blue and his clothes all pastel shades of purple and grey with a bat-shaped nametag pinned on his chest.  He smiled and elbowed her right back. “Yeah, just got it done the other day. How’re you holdin up, Sam? Parents still trying to push you into being a prep?”

“Such is my curse.”  Sam sighed and leaned heavily on Chris while he laughed.  “But, that’s not what I’m here for today. Think you can help me find some books on magick?”

“Cursing people is wrong, and will always go wrong for you, I hope you know that.”

Sam rolled her eyes, standing up straight.  “It’s not for cursing anyone, Chris, it’s for something else.”

“Hitting that cheerleader with a love spell is not the way to go about getting over your crush on her.”  Chris smirked and turned away from her, walking steadily while Sam scoffed and scowled at him.

“That’s gross on two fronts.  A love spell sounds ridiculously creepy, and I don’t have a crush on Paulina of all people.”  Sam made a gagging noise and Chris laughed yet again.

Ludicrous notions about cheerleaders aside, Chris lead Sam to a section about magick and left to go help another customer while Sam browsed.  She held her hand up, letting her fingers brush over the spines of the books as she read their titles and stilled. There was a vibration, warm and far more humid than any bookstore should be and humming so much like Danny and Agatha and even that piece of trash Grovsner did when she was close.  It was a feeling that she hadn’t really noticed until now that all of the ghosts she’d encountered shared, however few of those there were. The tiny hairs all over her arms and the back of her neck stood on end and Sam grabbed the book.

Roots, stems, rain, warmth, leaves, petals, heat, crushing cold, withering emptiness, life granting rain and growth .  Sam dropped the book and just barely bit off a loud swear, staring at the cover.  Magick: The Life Blood of the Earth.  “Well.  Danny can see weird shit, I guess I can feel it.  Being that close to the portal must’ve done something to me.”  Picking up the book slowly, Sam waited for any weird feelings to hit her again.  When none did, she grinned slowly. “Let’s see what I can do with that.”

Danny takes some of the time after fighting Skulker to relax at home, get his schoolwork done that was emailed to him, and figure out a plan for working around the school's new anti-ghost security system.  It had been two days already and he was coming up blank. Of course, it's at dinner that Danny thinks to ask his parents. "Hey Mom, you said the Fenton Finder works by keeping track of a ghost's ectosignature, right?  What is that, exactly?" Jazz, as she standardly did when Danny instigated ghost-themed rants, looked as offended as one might have had their mother been described with every cuss word in the dictionary. She stabbed her chicken alfredo while holding this look for 5 continuous seconds without blinking.

Mom smiled wide and ecstatic.  "Well you see, Danny, an ectosignature is the frequency of electrical signals running throughout a ghost's body, shaping its form and directing its actions."

"Like brainwaves?"

“Exactly, hon!”  Mom reached into her pocket and pulled out a macaroon, which Danny devoured immediately.  “When a ghost manifests outside of the Ghost Zone, its ecto signature is a signal being broadcast from the Ghost Zone into our reality.  Since ghosts are 4-dimensional constructs made of exotic matter that of which exists beyond our standard perceptive abilities, a ghost can receive this ectosignature from just about anywhere on Earth or beyond.  Like the best cellular reception in the universe.”

“Like any signal though, an ectosignature can be tracked!  And that signal can be disrupted and blocked!” Dad only spoke in exclamation points Danny realized some time ago.  He waved his fork around in presentation at the blueprint that his mind had likely superimposed on the air next to him.  “The Fenton Thermos™ uses charged ectoplasm and what I’ve coined as Fentonite to isolate any ectoplasmic mass contained inside of it from its corresponding ectosignature by creating a four-dimensional enclosure!  The filthy ghost is still charged with the ectosignature though, there’s a centralized network of energy that allows the ghost to immediately take on its form after it’s released.”

“So the ghost is conscious within the thermos?”

Mom shrugged.  “As conscious as a ghost can be, sweety.  It’s not an actual person or anything, just a static imprint of what used to be a person’s thoughts.  Like an A.I.”

“The Fenton Finder™ used scanners specially made to detect ectosignatures that are on our satellites up in space!  It’s also how our security system works, though that works off of scanners here in the house!”

"So is there a way to track down ghosts by their specific ecto signatures?  If you can track the general signals maybe you can create a way to lock into a specific one."

"Mm, I suppose we could!  That'd be useful for tracking down that scum that attacked you and friends!  We've got the blueprints for the ecto signature scanner down in the lab somewhere if you wanna try the idea out, son!"

"Will do, Dad.  I'll tell ya how it goes."  Danny grinned around his chicken and pasta.  He had a game plan now. 

After dinner, Danny raced downstairs to print out the blueprint from the computer - his father stacked the blueprints in an infuriatingly chaotic way that Danny hadn't the patience to sort through - and then ran through the door on the left.  Behind it was a hallway into a tunnel, one that lead Danny to the alternative lab under the building right next to the house. Hopping into his wheely chair, Danny slid over the linoleum floor to his work table and laid down the blueprint.

"Alright, I can work with this.  A signal can be tracked, and it can be isolated.  Which means that My signal can be isolated and tracked specifically."  A smirk crossed his face. "Which means the scanners can be set to ignore my signal.  Perfect!"

Danny slid over to the laptop connected to a second Fenton Fabricator, glad that his parents were always thorough enough to make a back up of everything they did.  "This should be done in no time. Then Sam can help me test it and Tuck can- speak of the devil." Danny whipped out his phone and hummed, tilting his head at the simple message his best friend had sent him. 

FriarTuck: Hey Dan, almost fin breaking the security in Sklkr's suit.  Bout to crack this badboi open n make it mine. Muahahahaha! Hyd?

"Ugh, stars, I don't wanna think about that asshole."  Danny shot back a quick reply and set his phone down, finding a notebook he typically kept around.  Writing in a code only he, Tucker and Sam knew, Danny got everything down that he could. "Skulker has been a major set back in my plan to prove not all ghosts are evil to Mom and Dad, and a few other weird developments made themselves known.  I can now see everything in the lower intensity ultraviolet spectrum 24/7 instead of having to concentrate, as well as the electrical currents running through everything; I can somehow see my emotional connections with people I'm close with and use those connections to influence their emotions as well as read them clearer than other aurae."  He stopped, taking a breath and looking over what he'd just written. " Mierda , ain't that creepy?"  Danny pulled on his hair a bit while he wrote.

"Joining that on the list of creepy-ass things about Danny: I can reach across that link to everyone and pull on their love and affection and all that and use it to heal myself.  Stars, that's such a gross way to look at everyone's care for me. Just a fucking- a bandaid? A free trip to the nurse in a minute?"

Turning back to the parts being made, Danny huffed and dragged his nails against his scalp a touch too roughly.  "Physiological changes in my ghost occur when Tucker and Sam are in danger; Canines grow into fangs and according to Sam my voice starts to echo as though it's coming from everywhere.  Thankfully a check in Tucker's mirror proves that the changes are temporary. Reaction to my temperament? On that note: being a psychoreactive exotic material, the ectoplasm that makes up my ghostly body reasonably reacts instantaneously to my emotions, but it seems to be enhancing them as well.  It's either that or maybe puberty, but I have a feeling puberty doesn't make you violently angry at the slightest provocation and likely to turn any ghost you see into a splatter on the ground." Danny groaned, closing his notebook. "I fucking Executed Skulker. What the fuck? Why didn’t I just suck him into the thermos?"

A ding from his phone and Danny snorted.  

GardeningClaws: Hey Star boy, don't go angsting without us there to hug you.  We will know and you will pay the price.

"And what price is that, being buried in a pillow fort?"

GardeningClaws: do you know how many pillows I have in this house??  Do you think, like a fool, that I won't use them against you?

Danny laughed, sending a quick 'fair point' before heading to the door opposite the one into the house lab. Behind it was a room with rows of lockers, each holding three sets of suits.   Danny didn't need them though. At the far end, there was a large octagonal metal rim, blast doors sealed shut within.

Opening it up to just the right coordinates, Danny watched the doors pull back and felt the building charge of the portal's startup.  For a fraction of a second, Danny was filled with a bone-deep fear that gripped his entire body and held him stock still. With a thunderous crack, the fabric of space-time was folded around and torn, and Danny relaxed, staring out at an expanse of white and grey.  Opening the blast door, he let the void fill him up and spread outward to chill his bones and freeze his veins. Skin blue, eyes and freckles green and his fluffy hair snow-white, Danny flew past the event horizon and gasped silently at the sight before him.

The moon is so much more beautiful when you can look with your own eyes instead of through the lens of a helmet visor.

Sam, smartest of the group that she was, called Danny and Tucker both to head to her house for a horror movie marathon.  “After what we’ve been through, none of these B rate movies are gonna scare us.” It was so close to inarguably true that the boys both shrugged at their phones and headed on over.  Danny came down from the sky in that space where everything was heat and impossible colors, everything around him highlighted in a panorama view that almost made him dizzy. Landing in an alleyway, Danny checked to make sure he didn’t see anyone around him and took a deep breath.  He folded himself up, cold edges practically trapped within him tugged and bent until the brilliant moonlight that bled from his form retreated into the center of his chest, light and freezing cold as it hummed in an offbeat pulse next to his heart.

Pulling the hood of his jacket over his head, Danny jogged out of the alleyway and down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets.  He looked around the neighborhood properly and hummed, wondering how he never put together that Sam was rich when the address she’d given them ages ago was very obviously in the rich part of town.  “Stars, we’re really just that oblivious aren’t we?” The stars in mind, Danny cast his gaze up and smiled at the full moon that greeted him, counting the tiny dots of the stars around it while he walked.  Thankfully, his odd kaleidoscopic vision seemed to extend to his human form a bit and his foot froze mid-step as a car drove past him at an intersection. “Sweet mother of the gods, why can rich people not drive right?”

When he got to the gates of Manson Manor, Tucker was there typing away at his phone.  When he looked up Danny waved and grinned, pointing a thumb at the huge mansion behind the gate.  “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s just so much .  Why does anyone need that much space?  How do they keep it clean?”

“If I meet some butler named Alfred I’m going to eat your hat.”

“Are you sure you wanna make that bet, Danny?  This is looking Batman-ish.”

The gate opened up before Danny could respond to that and instead, he nudged Tucker’s side before jogging toward the door.  Sam was there, opening it before Danny could trip on nothing and faceplant into the mahogany or whatever expensive wood the door was probably made from, and he instead landed on a soft carpet.  Tucker nudged his foot with his shoe and Danny groaned, resigned to simply laying there for the rest of his life. Two pairs of hands lifted him up from the ground however and Danny laughed, getting up properly.

“You can’t just let me wallow in my shame in peace, can you?”

“Of course not,” Sam scoffed.  “If you’re going to be ashamed, I have to be there to make sure it’s appropriate.  Now, c’mon!” Sam dragged Danny down a few halls, and up some stairs, followed closely by Tucker.

“I need to make a map of this place so we don’t get lost the next time we come to visit,” Tucker muttered, and Danny nodded.  When Sam opened the door she was headed for she let Danny go and grinned at them like a cat that’d eaten the canary. Walking in, Danny felt his jaw drop and took a moment to soak in what he was seeing.  “You have an entire movie theater in your house?”

“I know, it’s grossly excessive and we absolutely don’t need it, but-”

“Sam, what the heck are you talking about?”  Danny waved a hand in the goth’s face and snorted when she swatted at him.  “This is awesome! We can marathon every Dead Teacher movie here and it’ll be like when we went to see it in the actual theaters but better !”  Danny pulled down his hood and hopped over one of the chairs - of which there were two whole rows - and plopped himself into the soft cushioned seat with a laugh.  “The only thing that could make this room better would be if you had movie snacks.”

“Well, good thing I have a popcorn machine right back there full of fresh popcorn, a cotton candy machine, and ordered us pizzas.”  Sam grinned, sitting next to Danny with a bowl in hand full of greasy buttery popcorn, and Tucker sat on his right. “What should we watch first?”

Halfway into Dr. Sleep, the pizza arrived and three laughing teens had to pause the movie and pull themselves together from the heap of giggles that they’d become.  “Oh, oh stars, that hurt , laughing so much hurts!”  Danny leaned on Tucker while Sam leaned on him, the bowl of popcorn practically forgotten next to Tucker.  After a few minutes, Danny took a deep breath and patted his friends on the back. “I can grab the pizza - I can fly, so unlike you two I can actually go and be back before the things are cold.”  Before either friend could protest, Danny let the shimmering void of silvery dark cold spread out from the center of his chest to every hair on his body in a flash of light. He slipped through Sam and Tucker like water through the air and flew off toward the red aura of the pizza guy, diving to transform behind the front door when he appeared outside.  In just a moment he was back inside and setting three pizza boxes down on the snack table. “I see we got ourselves a meat-lovers for Tuck, a veggie everything for Sam, and-” Danny gasped. “A dragon’s tongue pizza for me! Aww, Sam~”

“Oh stuff it you goof,” Sam said as she and Tucker grabbed slices and plates.  “I just knew that you’d complain your pizza isn’t spicy enough unless it has ghost peppers, reaper peppers and every other kind of spice known to man and dolphin on it.”

Tucker rolled his eyes, already scarfing down his first slice.  “Dolphin? Really?”

“Dolphins are the closest animals to humans in behavior and observed intellect, Tucker.”  Danny took the time to go through three slices of pizza while Sam ranted about how dolphins might as well be classified as non-human people before pointing accusatorily at her.

“There is nothing wrong with my sense of taste, thank you.  Anyone with a strong enough tongue can handle this pizza, Sam.”  Danny took a bite to emphasize his point and smirked when he was flipped off.  “I’ve just got the strongest stomach here.”

“ Excuse you? ”

“Unlike you, I can eat veggies without my stomach declaring a mutiny.”

“Um, go fuck yourself?  That was the lowest of all low blows, I am utterly betrayed !”  Tucker covered his forehead with the back of his arm and half fell backward.  “Truly, my trust has been shattered by mine own brother, how could you? And I’ll have you know that the amount of capsaicin you consume is well beyond what any human being should have in their body.”

“Funny, I’m pretty sure I’m not human.”  Danny paused mid-chew, ignoring the look of disgust on Sam’s face over the two of them talking around their food.  “I wonder… what smaller changes like that might be going on because of my ghost? Like, regular puberty is already horrible enough but now I’ve got like, ghost puberty to deal with.”

“First of all, ghost wise, you’re baby.”  Danny pouted at Tucker, feeling mildly offended.  “You haven’t even been half-dead for a whole year yet, you’re baby.”

“Tucker, can you be reasonable for one moment?”  Danny nodded, gesturing to Sam, who was clearly the only one with her head on straight between them.  “Danny is always baby, not just because of his ghost.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Danny rose up in front of the movie screen, less crossed in the air as he frowned down at his friends.  “I am offended, I am revolted, I dedicate my life to our lord and savior Jesus Christ and this is the thanks I get?”

“I wonder,” Sam said loudly as she walked toward his pizza box.  “What it would taste like if I put cotton candy on your pizza?” Danny dove for his pizza box, nearly crashing into Sam as he grabbed it up and flew toward the ceiling.  He flipped upside down and stood with his feet to the ceiling, grinning down at his friends. Carefully opening his box he took out a slice and stopped.

“Sammy that is a wonderful question!”  Gravity shifted, reasserted itself in the correct direction, and Danny flipped with it, landing in front of the cotton candy machine.  He dipped his pizza slice into it and smirked at the despaired wail of his friend while he ran away from her, munching away at his unholy pizza slice.  “This is so sad, Alexa-”

“You don’t think I’d have Alexa in my home, do you?  First you defile my cotton candy, now you insult my common sense?  Do me a favor and parish.”

“Been there, done that.”

“As amazing as all that is, I was wondering something about you, Danny.”  Danny flew over to Tucker, landing on his shoulders with a snicker. “So like, can you do that thing from the movie?  Like, turn your head all the way around like an owl?”

A wide grin spread over Danny’s face and he set his food down on the table, before pulling the void up and out and around himself.  Bright silver light illuminated Tucker and cast odd shadows on his face. To think about later.   Danny turned his head slowly, cautious of being wrong, and almost stopped when he heard the pop of the joints in his neck.  Still, he kept going until he was looking at Sam’s gaping face right behind him.  He raised a hand to give her a thumbs up and winced at the sound of more popping joints - though, fascinatingly enough… “None of this hurts at all.”

“Well now I gotta see you spider-walk up the walls, that’s just the natural result of you showing off like this, Danno.”  Turning his head the rest of the way around, Danny saw Tucker’s phone pointed at him and snorted. “Dude this is wicked !”

“Oh my gods, we have to time you, hold on.”  And like that, Danny was doing laps around the walls and ceiling, reversed on all fours while Sam timed him and Tucker recorded.  When he dropped back down to the two rows of seats, Danny crossed his legs behind him with a hum.

“Anything else y’all wanna test?”  Tucker raised his hand and Danny let his gaze slide from Tucker himself to the brilliant yellow-gold-grek air around him.  “I’m going to regret hearing out this question, aren’t I?” Tucker nodded, his grin widening and the grek in his aura growing brighter.  Danny sighed and pointed at his brother.

“Can you possess people?  Cause that would be pretty fuckin cool.”  Tucker T posed as if that would help Danny with the wave of discomfort that crashed over him at the idea.  “How would you know? Go ahead, try me. See if you can like, take me over.”

Danny drew the darkness back into his chest, warmth and the beat of his heart and the weight of gravity tugging relentlessly against him like countless invisible chains made themselves known to him.  Digging in his pocket, Danny pulled out a coin, looking at Tucker with as much seriousness on his face as possible. “Heads I tell you to yeet your PDA into the cotton candy, tails I try to possess you.”  Danny flipped the quarter and caught it in his open palm. He took in a deep breath through his nose, and let it out the same way. “Shut.”

Slipping back into the void, Danny stared at his Tposing best friend and considered just how he was supposed to do what he had asked.  The only thing that made any sense, of course, was to slide even deeper into the void. Light and sound and even the air circulating through the room all faded away and the world shifted like a gradient scale from Xtreme Indigo to a deep dark blue sprinkled with green that lit up the empty world in bands, rivers, and threads that Danny could’ve stared at for the rest of his life and probably never grown tired of.  The only constants were the gold and green aurae at the ends of silver threads that shone like solid moonlight. Danny dove for the golden light and dipped a hand in where he guessed Tucker’s head was. The silver thread practically yanked him in, and Danny sank into a desert of yellow and glittering light.

In the next instant, he was blinking unfamiliar eyes, falling out of a dumb pose he hadn’t taken, stumbling on legs longer than he was used to and warmer than he’d been in months.  “Holy shit.” Danny held out his - Tucker’s hands and turning them over each other again and again. He took a few testing steps forward and back, turning and stretching every way he’d ever seen Tucker move, and felt a laugh bubble out of hi-Tuck’s mouth.  “Sam holy shit!”

Sam was staring at Tucker-Danny like he was the most out of this world thing she’d ever laid eyes on and she wasn’t sure how to react to him.  The cheer of figuring out yet another ability dimmed at the sight of her expression and what might’ve been horror was building itself up in his chest.  Then Sam schooled her expression and pointed at him. “You sound the way you do when the two of you are speaking in unison.”

“I feel like I’m wearing a costume that doesn’t fit right, I’ll be honest about that.  Stars, Tucker’s vision is horrible.”

“Alright, that voice thing is actually getting annoying, can you like, leave him now?”  A moment of silence passed, the room growing incredibly small and Sam stepped closer. “Danny, you can leave Tucker’s body now, right?”

“Gimme a second, Sam, I didn’t know I could go into him in the first place.”  Danny huffed and closed his eyes. He focused on what was different and wrong about being in Tucker’s body instead of his own, thought about floating upward to the surface of a large body of water, the moon coming to his mind’s eye and he reached for it.  There was a solid kick at the edge of his shadows, golden sands rising up and filling the empty space to push him up and out toward the moonlight and-

Danny flopped onto the ground face first, sensing a trend of him faceplanting on Sam’s floor, and Tucker let out a loud gasp.  “Holy balls, that was weird as fuck !”  Danny flipped around onto his back, letting his own familiar warmth and heartbeat fill his senses before he looked up at Tucker and found him wiggling his fingers and toes.  “It was like blacking out or something. I had the weirdest dream where I was like, I dunno, made of fire or something?”

“It was a lot of weird, hard to describe feelings on my end but mostly like a suit that doesn’t fit right.  Like, I know what my body feels like and that wasn’t mine, ya know?” Sam and Tucker nodded and while Danny knew they had absolutely no idea what he meant, it was relieving all the same.  Standing up, Danny reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the scanner he’d printed earlier. “By the way, I made something that’ll help me get back into school.”

Tucker, without missing a beat, said, “That sounds like a horrible evil device.”  Sam snorted and Danny nodded. “What does it do?”

Danny launched into an explanation of what he’d learned about ectosignatures and his idea for tricking the security system at school.  “Also,” Danny added when it came to mind, “the car should be done printing in my basement by now.”

“Wait, you not only finished designing it but also started making it?”  Sam looked between them with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean printing?”

“The Fenton Fabricator™ is a giant, modular, high detail 3D printer that can make complex metal technologies - like our hoverboards.  The first 3D printed car took a couple of days and it wasn’t as complicated as this so I guessed about 48 hours.” Danny shrugged. “Probably done by now.”

“Isn’t that cool?”  Tucker practically had stars in his eyes.  “We can build anything in there, Sam!”

“Before that, we gotta get this ecto signature of Danny’s recorded."  Sam held up the scanner and Danny nodded. Things had to happen in the right order or things would go wrong.

Danny reached inside of himself and pulled the dark, endless space between space that rested within him out to wrap around him like a cool, relaxing blanket.  The extreme indigo of the world rose to an even more brilliant blue and purple that blended together and unwove from each other and wrapped around everything. Tucker shone from within with gold that glittered like desert sands and Sam was wreathed in the viridian green of the forests.  The threads between them were silver and thick as though woven from many. "I never need to take drugs cause all I need to do to get a trip is go ghost. I swear."

"Yeah, well, I think I have the reading on you right here.  Tucker, can you make any sense of this?" Tucker rolled over and stared at the data on the Fenton Finder remake.   After a moment of silence, Tuck started tapping away at his PDA ferociously. "I'm gonna guess that means yes."

"I can record this signal and have a filter to keep the school's system from recognizing you as a threat by tonight.  Think we can break in and do it then?"

"Probably," Danny shrugged, flipping a few times in the air.   "Ishiyama probably had them set the security system to an activation button or lever or verbal input.  They wouldn't want them to make something automatic in case a ghost was too close to a student."

"Fair.  Tomorrow night then?"  Tucker grinned as Danny tucked that blanket of not so empty empty space back into the very center of his everything and flopped onto his seat.

"Sooner I can tell my family we beat Skulker the better.  I don't like worrying them like this." Ever since his Spirit Vision or whatever got turned permanently on, Danny could feel the undercurrent of anxiety that ran through his family.  It made his skin crawl with the itch to make them all feel better and left a bitter taste on his tongue.

"Agreed, I can only keep this info from my parents for so long."  Sam sighed, rolling her eyes. With a grin she handed the scanner fully over to Tucker and ran a hand through Danny's hair, messing it up as much as she could.

Danny swatted away Sam's hand after a moment and sank further into the soft cushiony seat.   "Your chair is eating me, Sammy."

"You've been getting a healthier amount of meat on you, so yeah it might be."  Tucker was steadily getting engrossed in his task and Danny knew they had precious few seconds before he was completely lost to them so he decided now was a good time to be a dick. 

“So like, when the first hoverboard exploded and I put up a forcefield on a reflex we completely skipped over that cause of hyper-focus but like.  Should we talk about that?"

"You have protective instincts," Tucker mumbled, "and ghost stuff reacts to the deeper parts of your mind right?   So it's just you defending someone you care about."

"Which reminds me."  Sam poked Danny in the sides until he was squirming and giggling to get away.   "You're keeping like, a journal of all the things you can do right?"

"Mostly notes on what I learned about ghosts in general, like a bullet point list of the stuff that happened with Agatha and Skulker, and stuff but yeah.  I need to add ‘owl neck’ and ‘possession’ to my list of Things I Can Do."

“And what, pray tell, is on that list?”

"I can turn intangible or invisible, defy- no, actually, with what happened at the zoo I guess I can influence gravity, I can see all the radiation in the world, which is a trip lemme tell ya, I can apparently make a wall of ectoplasm?"  Tucker and Sam were staring at him for a long beat of silence before both were tackling Danny and pulling him into a big group hug. “I know, I’m awesome, but so are you guys and you should celebrate it.”

“Yeah, I am pretty awesome,” Tucker said with a grin.  “You guys are lucky to know me. I feel I deserve a reward for the amazingness I bring to this group.”  Tucker was promptly dropped by Sam onto the floor and Danny laughed.

“Another cool thing you can do is heal yourself and other people.” Sam poked Danny in the side until he was squirming away from her in that unreal state of being, slipping through her fingers like the space between air and flopped onto Tucker’s lap before solidity came back to him.  “That’s probably one of the coolest powers you have.”

“One day, Tucker is going to copy everything I can do, but with technology.”  Danny poked Tucker a couple of times and got his hand swatted away for his trouble.  “He’s already copied my language-”

“Spanish doesn't belong to you just because your dad is Mexican, Danny, try again.”

“And now he’s tryna say what’s mine isn’t even mine, can you believe this guy?”  Danny didn’t even try to hold in his laughter now, waving a hand emphatically in Tucker’s face.  “Next he’ll say I’m not the greatest ghost fighter in the world-”

“Your Mom.”

“Or the first boy to step foot on the moon-”

“Neil Armstrong - also, did you just say you walked on the m-”

“Or the unthinkable, like I’m not the very first Fenton that’s gonna be built like a brick house.”

“No no, you can’t just talk your way out of this one, Danny, you were on the moon? ”  Ah, Danny loved riling up his friends.

[valasania-the-pale]

The Last Rose - Chapter Two

Thank you to all of you who read the last chapter! Please enjoy chapter two :)

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY, I’m just playing in the sandbox.

X_0_X

“You want to know what I’m afraid of, kiddo?” Her uncle softly blew out his flaming marshmallow before he answered her. Ruby wondered why his breath didn’t catch fire like before. “I’ll tell you what it is: it’s the same thing that every real huntsman or huntress will tell you they fear…”

She waited a few seconds; they were an eternity to her young mind.

“…Well?! Don’t be mean, Uncle Qrow! What is it?”

He barked a laugh. “It’s… That moment. The one where you realize that your luck has turned on you. The moment when things have gone to shit, the tide has turned, and the hunter has become the prey. It can happen on any mission, at any time, against any kind of enemy, and all huntsmen are guaranteed to have it happen at least once in their lives.”

Ruby nearly dropped her s’more, she was so bewildered. “Whaaa - But you’re all hoowah! and witchaa! and super cool with Harbinger and all! What could ever beat you?”

“Heh.” Qrow let his eyes close and a shadow passed over his face. Ruby frowned. “You’d be surprised. Even badasses like me get tired and distracted, even though we try not to make a habit out of it.”

Ruby tilted her head to the side. “Hmm. I think you’re just making excuses for getting old!”

“Hey!”

…

Of course, I later learned that in this, as with a lot of things, Uncle Qrow was telling the truth. I’m afraid of a lot of things, and I think he was too. But every huntsman will experience this fear at some point in their careers.

Suffice to say, I survived. Not everyone does.

Obviously.

X_0_X

A gentle rain pattered on the hull of the bullhead. It was a soothing counterpoint to the constant hum of the engines and pulsing sonar.

‘…known to encircle their prey before closing in with their pincers to crush armor and/or tear flesh. Collective intelligence estimated to be mid-to-low; they are known to leave carcasses desecrated in easily spotted locations, but only display rudimentary tactical abilities. Likely gained experience attacking smaller villages (See page 6 for details), but have yet to move beyond their preferred methods of psychological warfare…’

Ruby perused the detailed reports on her target, provided by various village scouts from southern Anima.

It was impressively comprehensive. While huntsmen were relied upon for most of the actual killing, many villages fielded small fighting forces that specialized in reconnaissance and ambush tactics in addition to their defensive garrisons. They would either provide huntsmen with the best information possible for their assignments, or they would take care of what they could through subterfuge and surprise.

It made jobs like this much simpler to prepare for. Instead of spending a week in the field simply tracking her target and getting a feel for their abilities, she started with relatively-fresh information on their location, preferred haunts, and the threat they posed.

Assuming the Grimm didn’t play up their habits for an advantage. Or change tactics abruptly when faced with a greater threat. Some of the craftier few had been known to take advantage of their species’ reputation for predictability.

‘…greatest threat is posed to Horikiri. Our village is well defended by the sheer cliffs on our eastern and western flanks, but cannot stand against a concentrated force for long, and we have few options for our outlying farms…’

The village was desperate, having already lost a family of five on the outskirts and two guards sent to repel another attack closer to the wall fencing them in. Ruby scowled, sorely regretting the delay in information. How many more had died since the report was sent?

‘…They are emboldened by their numbers. We have repelled their probes for several weeks, but the situation has quickly grown from routine to untenable…’

Ruby read through the last few pages, flicking back to review a few entries before she closed the report, tucking her scroll away in one of the many pouches on the belt of her huntress’ garb.

Defined by dark reds and blacks, her preferred style had changed little from her days at Beacon and the years following its fall. It would have been an insult to Crescent Rose if she shifted her look toward something that didn’t complement its menacing visage.

Her red cloak, worn, tattered, and given to her so long ago, rested comfortably across her shoulders, hood down to reveal the long braid she’d cultivated. Streaked red, her obsidian locks had been twisted into an efficient braid, pulled over her shoulder to rest on her chest.

Long hair had never been her ‘thing,’ but after so long living with it she’d come to appreciate it. The braid was a concession to how much it got in the way left loose; she’d never understood how her sis-

Locks shining gold like the sun flared behind a sun-streaked face, eyes burning RED in fury, sparking flames dancing amidst the curls, hands clenched in fists rose in readiness for combat, craving fire, blood, and PAIN.

Thump.

Ruby shied away from the line of thought furiously. She liked her hair the way it was. That was it. There was nothing else. She had an assignment to complete.

Suddenly craving comfort, Ruby pulled Crescent Rose closer to her, letting the familiar sound of sliding metal fill her ears as her baby unfolded itself into its fearsome scythe form.

Her fingers stroked across the cool metal, tracing all of the nicks and scars that covered her pride and joy; that made the work of art what it was. She could never bring herself to paint over the imperfections streaking it. It would be a lie, covering up the suffering it had gone through over all the years she and it had danced together. Her only concession had been to mend the gouges and dents that threatened to restrict the scythe’s transformation sequence if left alone.

Ruby ran her eyes along Crescent Rose’s length, seeking any of those flaws, fingers no longer affectionate but instead moving over the scythe’s length in search of the imperfections that would put them both in danger.

There were none, of course. Crescent Rose was maintained by her careful hands, after all. Not a day went by that she didn’t go over it, taking it slowly apart to make sure the insides were all in order, and sharpening the blade with her trusty whetstone…

She tapped the transformation switch, satisfied by the examination, and set Crescent Rose to the side.

Her hand dropped to her waist, resting on the soft hilt of her other weapon.

Heron, she’d taken to calling it in absence of any knowledge of what its previous owner had named it. If she had named it at all.

Ruby unsheathed it with a flourish, spinning it in her hand and refamiliarizing herself with its heft and balance. Lacking a pommel, it was unlike Harbinger, Crocea Mors, or any other sword she’d known; instead its grip simply extended to the end of the sword, capped off by a simple metal piece that Ruby had had to add herself.

Beyond that had once extended a long, prehensile wire to control and manipulate the blade, relieving her of the need to hold it personally in the first place.

The blade was irregular, a ramrod straight spine edged in three places, forming two distinctly triangular shapes to deliver death and pain to its victims. The hilt, circular and irregular like everything that was associated with the sword, proudly displayed the Atlesian ‘standby’ symbol, standard for all of their products…

It once glowed a vivid electric green, pulsing in time with its owner’s aura. Now it was a subdued velvety red, dark and broody against the black plate.

Ruby ran her finger along the blade, mindful of the razor-sharp edge the metal never seemed to lose. In all the years she’d carried it, it had never required sharpening, being smelted from some rare Atlesian alloy too expensive for even most huntsmen to incorporate into their own weapons.

‘Heron’ was – historically – the name of an eccentric hermit and ancient genius, known to experiment with all sorts of things, including the first conceptual automata… It had seemed fitting.

There were no imperfections on the blade. No scars, no nicks, no dents. It was perfect, like it always was, untouchable. In that way, it too was irregular. Just like its owner.

She flicked the activation switch she’d had to add to its design, swapping it into its pistol form and back again, and sheathed it. Ruby then tucked her hands under her arms, keenly feeling their chill all of a sudden…

…

Breathe.

…

Slowly, her fists loosened, and the tension drained from her shoulders. Her spine lost the steel that kept it stiff, and her jaw unclenched.

Breathe.

The moment past, and lacking anything else to do, Ruby leaned back in her seat with a sigh and began to mentally review the many potential scenarios she might encounter on the assignment, as well as tactics she could use to counter them.

It was an effective distraction.

X_0_X

Ruby landed on her feet, knees bending to distribute the force of the drop, hours later.

Above her head, the airship had already begun to pull away from the forest canopy, the pilots wary for any signs of approaching Grimm – especially Nevermore. It wasn’t unknown for the most daring individuals to attack lonely transport flights when they thought they could get away with it.

Thankfully, there wasn’t any snow for her to sink into for her to worry about this far south. Grateful for the higher temperature, Ruby dropped her hands to her waist, running her fingers along her supplies and mentally checking off everything.

Map. Pouches. Scroll. Crescent Rose. Heron. Pocket-knife. Canteen. All check.

Shifting the weight of her pack of supplies and equipment on her shoulders, and tightening the strap across her waist, Ruby nodded to herself. Everything was in order.

Her eyes darted across the area, noting the faint traces of Grimm still left over from the scouts’ original report a month prior. Bark scraped away from several large, passing bodies. Broken undergrowth growing back, a sign of nature reclaiming what had been stamped into the mud. But no footprints.

Recalling the weather reports from over the last few weeks, Ruby shook her head. Those would have washed away with the rains. The front that she’d moved through on the journey would have been here mere days, if not hours before.

There was something else of note, however. The slightest prickle of sensation, playing at her instincts and just barely tangible. Her eyes darted around the clearing, noting the absence of animal life, taking in the silence.

She was being watched.

It was far too quiet, the expected sounds of life amidst so much wilderness were muted and far away. Possibly because of the bullhead?

Ruby frowned, considering what he could do with the observation… before she compartmentalized the feeling. As a huntress she had learned to trust her instincts, but she had also learned not to stress too much in similar situations. Whatever was watching her was, at least for the moment, not a threat, and her assignment could be time sensitive.

Shooting the clearing a last, wary look, she began following the Deathstalkers’ trail, setting a familiar brisk pace she knew she could maintain all day with only minimal rest.

Behind her, a long, dark shape withdrew into its hollow beneath the dense undergrowth.

X_0_X

Sun was a fucking hypocrite, and he knew it.

Around him he could hear the sounds of his teammates as they puttered around their small home in the residential district of Mistral. The scrape of Sage’s chair against the floor as he made to bring the dishes from his morning meal to the sink. The fond bickering he and Scarlet partook in as they pushed and competed for space at the sink.

Distractions. There were too many. Always were.

…Don’t lie.

Externally he could make all the excuses he wanted, but he knew it wasn’t the noise that kept him awake right then, when he’d promised Ruby he’d be catching up on lost sleep. No.

Worry gnawed him. It wrestled away any semblance of control he had over his rest and held it above his head like a schoolyard bully.

When he’d shambled across the threshold, that morning, still shivering from the cold morning air, Scarlet’d taken one look at him and demanded he go straight to bed. No ifs, no buts, just firm command in his eyes.

Masculine pride demanded that Sun protest. He should have mocked his teammate for acting like a mother hen and plopped down on the couch for some good ol’ television. He should have ignored the disapproving glare and proved the defiance in his soul.

Instead, Sun had numbly accepted his teammate’s demand, kicked off his damp boots, and collapsed onto his soft mattress, lights flicking off behind him as Scarlet shut the door with a lingering look.

He was bone-tired. Insomnia was a bitch.

It had been a fairly good week, too. He’d snatched a few hours of rest each and every night and made his way through the day with relative ease. It was downright pleasant being able to interact with his team like a normal person. The mood around the house had lifted so much it was almost a tangible brightness in the air.

Then he’d gone to sleep and dreamt of Neptune, blue hair, style, cool-dude embodied. His brother in arms. His partner.

Gone.

Waking up with a panic attack was nothing new to him; it happened with depressing regularity, the short pulse-pounding episodes sending him to his feet to pace and massage his chest, desperately going through the motions of the breathing techniques that Ruby had coached him through dozens of times before, as he had with her.

She wasn’t there, this last time, either to get him through it or bring him down afterwards. It’d been Scarlet to find him on the couch in the morning, staring at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes and a deep frown on his face.

His expression? Empathetic. It always was. And he’d done everything he could to make Sun comfortable, which Sun appreciated. But it always lacked that final step of understanding he could find with Ruby...  

Scarlet tried. Sage too. But they didn’t have the same problems with moving on that Sun and Ruby and gods-know-how-many-others dealt with. They were lucky like that. They knew what it was like, but they didn’t understand.

Sun shifted under his sheets, trying to find a new spot of coolness against his skin, to press the soles of his feet against. He was warm again – too warm. Outside, someone dropped a utensil. It clattered loudly, metallic against the granite countertop.

Ruby understood. Too well. Sun wished she didn’t.

Ruby was pure. She was good and kind and brave. And as her friend, Sun knew she also suffered far more than he did without her team beside her to support her through her mourning. They added to it instead.

He didn’t envy her. At his worst, he could barely stand the thought of his partner, but he knew that even at her best Ruby avoided those memories.

Just like Scarlet and Sage, he didn’t understand. He knew enough, just like she knew enough about his struggle, but it was never enough. He wasn’t the one she needed.

The only three with any hope of filling that role were lost to some Atlesian battlefield; the Valean memorial honoring every huntsman and fallen civilian from the conflict immortalizing their memory for everyone except the one who needed it the most.

He lifted his hands to rub at his eyes. They were so dry it felt like he was in Vacuo again, wiping away grit and dust and craving clean water. But just for his eyes. Every other part of him was either too hot or too cold. Never comfortable.

The bed creaked below him as he rolled over, jostling for some comfort.

He was a hypocrite. A fucking hypocrite, at that. He knew that he had drawn a promise from Ruby to get some sleep, to be safe, to come back home in one piece please, and he couldn’t do this one thing right when she asked him.

Useless.

Sun growled, frustrated, and rolled over again. Scarlet and Sage chatted outside – preparing to go out shopping for their assignment tomorrow.

He needed to fucking sleep, Dust damn it!

He was worried about Ruby. He knew he’d worked himself up to it last night, while Ruby had forced herself to get the sleep she needed for the day. In lieu of any real ability to rest himself, he’d tormented himself with the image of his friend alone in the forest, surrounded by Grimm. She was so strong, so talented, but there would always be a mistake. A misplaced foot, or perhaps the Grimm would have some crafty trick to pull, always something that would take her by surprise.

Red – not like roses, but scarlet like blood and all-too-prominent in those ghastly visions – and Sun would soon be on his feet, pacing away his anxiety. He’d work himself down, pull the sheets back over him and tuck his head between his pillows hoping that the wind would die down and give him some peace, but when that would fail he’d be at it again and the cycle would repeat itself, eating him alive.

If this had been years ago, before the Fall and the events that followed that would rip everything away from him (not Scarlet, not Sage, not Ruby, he reminded himself), Sun knew that Neptune would have been there to help him through the nights.

His partner would be there for him like he would be there for his partner. They were the best of friends, the closest of duos, complementing each other’s style and personality. The dream team could never die, nor succumb to weakness like this.

Except it had.

One half died, the other succumbed.

Weak.

‘Stop it man,’ Sun scolded himself suddenly, furious that he’d let his thoughts start down that road. ‘You’re better than this.’

The door outside opened and closed. Sun could hear his teammates’ conversation fade away beyond even his faunus-enhanced hearing, leaving him with the creak of the walls and the wind whirling by outside.

Sun squeezed his eyes shut. He was so tired…

Ruby…

‘You guys are all keeping an eye on her, right?’ he thought suddenly, willing his thoughts to reach the three people he knew were most likely to hear them. ‘Keep her safe, will you? So I don’t need to worry so much.’

Eyes opening to slits for a moment, he waited for an answer.

Nothing.

Of course, Sun sighed. Rolling again, he tried to make himself comfortable, hoping that his prayer would be heard.

X_0_X

The smoke led her here.

It could be smelled for miles, its presence sending spikes of worry up Ruby’s spine as she peered through Crescent Rose’s scope at the pack of Deathstalkers below. Their condition was hardly comforting.

Broken armor, shattered bones, reduced to six instead of the thirteen she’d been aware of, and nursing open wounds that bled the scarlet tar that passed for blood in Grimm. The pack was in shambles, and to someone of her experience it was obvious what had brought them so low. No huntsman could recreate the unrestricted savagery of some of the injuries she saw.

Her job had become much more complex, as it always did when Grimm got territorial with each other.

Such things were rare, since Grimm were usually more than happy to give each other the space they needed to survive. When it came to humans, however, they became unpredictable and deadly.

When they detected vulnerability, they might be found working together to overcome whatever defenses they encountered – prioritizing their lust for human suffering over whatever animal rivalries they held. But old, powerful Grimm were greedy. When they knew they could take a settlement alone, they would be vicious in their reprisal against interlopers, each violently protective of their kills.

Whatever ancient horror lashed out at this pack was powerful, and that boded very poorly for Horikiri and its people.

Which meant she had to be quick.

Crack!

Crescent Rose barked. The leader of the pack dropped to the ground instantly, skull beneath the bony shell of its head turning to a fine red paste as the dust round met its mark.

Utter silence fell for a split second as the remaining Grimm turned as one to look at their leader as it began to dissolve into black mist.

Crack!

Behind the jaw, in the chink where it its head flowed into the torso. The second Grimm sank to the ground and the remaining four spun to face Ruby in her perch, malevolent crimson eyes locking onto her with disturbing intensity.

Crack! Crack!

The third skidded on the ground as the two rounds pierced the two largest eyes, bypassing the plate guarding the rest of its head entirely. The surviving Deathstalkers were nearly on her position by then, however, so Ruby lowered Crescent Rose and tensed her legs for impact.

Crash-Snap!

The tree buckled beneath her. Ruby leapt, the world around her tinging scarlet as she blurred forward with her semblance. Everything slowed as she brought Crescent Rose around, twisting her body to take aim.

Crack!

Not a killing blow. The shot crippled the laggard of the group, thick blood erupting from the hole she’d punched into root of the only leg it wasn’t treating gingerly on its left side. The massive beast staggered, its weight suddenly too much to hold with the crippled limbs.

Crack!

Ruby landed in a deep crouch, knees bending to distribute the force of her fall, hastened by her shot’s recoil. Effortlessly, her finger tapped the transformation switch as she blurred forward, Crescent Rose unfolding into its full glory just as she came out of her semblance in a magnificent slide underneath its carapace. She drove the point of the blade into the Deathstalker’s softer underbelly, relishing in the agonized shriek she drew before it suddenly died, dissolving above her.

Slide right.

Crack!

Her feet skidded as another Grimm charged her former position, far too slow.

Forward!

The world blurred. She let her weight drop, the hardened, sun-dried earth of the clearing the perfect surface for her to repeat the tactic, sliding underneath and ripping open flesh with her baby.

The fifth Grimm died with a pathetic gurgle.

She pushed off with a hand on the ground, throwing her weight forward and distributing the momentum into a somersault. Ruby grinned viciously, blood pumping and adrenaline spiking high and natural for once as she finished on her feet, Crescent Rose glinting dangerously in the light behind her.

She felt alive, confident, deadly. Just like she was meant to be.

The single remaining Deathstalker held its distance warily, spitting at her in high-pitched whines and shrieks. This one obviously wasn’t stupid; it knew her now, having watched her pick apart its entire pack in mere seconds.

Her grin widened, all teeth. That just made it more fun.

Seconds passed, tense, all sound absent from their surroundings save for those made by the two combatants.

By some unspoken signal, the Deathstalker reared back and charged, deceptively quick on its short legs with its incredible bulk. Ruby’s grip tightened on Crescent Rose as she prepared to throw herself underneath it once more.

She moved.

Something grabbed her legs and she stumbled.

Her eyes widened in bewilderment as her center of balance disappeared, sending her crashing to the ground.  

Thump.

Time slowed, and her eyes darted to her feet, breath hitching.

‘The hell?’

Two dark and resinous vines anchored her in place. They were absolutely covered in pulsing, sickly black veins, utterly anathema to the otherwise plantlike appearance.

Thump.

Time slowed, her perceptions shrinking until the space between heartbeats passed like minutes. The Deathstalker was far too close, seconds from being on her. Ruby twisted, painfully slow, impossibly fast, bringing Crescent Rose down on the tendrils, freeing one leg.

Thump.

The vines flailed wildly, withdrawing into the ground with unnatural haste. She pulled Crescent Rose up for the others. Too late.

Thump.

Her breath left her as the Deathstalker’s vice-like claws closed around her chest, her scarlet aura flaring into visibility as it strained to protect her from being vivisected. It lifted her into the air, for a brief moment nearly ripping her leg out by the root as the tendrils held firm.

Then they loosened, purpose apparently accomplished. Ruby didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Thump.

She dropped Crescent Rose, her weapon useless to her in such confined quarters. Ruby could feel her heart pumping wildly in her chest, every single nerve in her body alive with sensation – Pain!

Thump.

She wrapped her fingers around Heron, gripping the hilt like a lifeline.

Thump.

Her aura strained. She felt the fatigue setting in as it sapped the strength from her limbs to sustain itself. She drew her sword with all the haste she could muster.

Thump.

Twisting the blade around, Ruby maneuvered it to face the vulnerable chink in the Deathstalker’s armored pincer: the intersection of the two claws where the tendons that strained so hard to kill her were located, just as she’d been told in Grimm Studies.

The monster shrieked.

Thu-ump.

Ruby dropped to the ground, sucking in a deep breath as the Deathstalker reared back in agony, her former prison hanging uselessly open. The slit tendons smoked and bled, oily scarlet mixing with acrid black dust.

‘Thank you, Professor Port,’ she briefly thought, quickly running through her options.

She didn’t have the time to reclaim Crescent Rose. It was too close to the Deathstalker. No matter. Heron was more than enough. It would be wary, what would…? Yes. That would work.

Readjusting her grip on Heron, Ruby tensed her legs, eyes darting between her feet and the Grimm. She wouldn’t fall to the same deception twice.

She charged.

The Grimm’s other claw thrust at her. She dove, somersaulting below the massive appendage, coming up between it and the monster’s face. Ruby thrust Heron into a crimson eye, heedless of the champing mandibles below her elbow. Her teeth ground together as metal scraped rudely against bone.

The Deathstalker screamed.

She twisted Heron, feeling bone crack and the sickening sound of tearing meat.

The Grimm reared up on its back legs. Ruby yanked Heron back before it could be ripped away from her as her foe swung its head back and forth, spitting as agony overwhelmed its every sense. Its massive body twitched at random intervals, claws pounding at the air as though it were boxing an unseen enemy.

For a few seconds, she watched the Grimm, breathing tight and controlled, and viewed the damage she’d caused. The rush of the fight still drummed through her veins.

Ruby clamped down on it, breathing deeply through her nose to soften her pulse. Her eyes fluttered shut, relishing the moment of triumph.

Then they snapped open, silver pools examining the thrashing beast critically, evaluating.

She had a job to finish. The smell of smoke was thicker in the air already. Now that she wasn’t focused on surviving to the next second it was impossible to ignore. Wood and oil, with a hint of Dust’s telltale acridity mixed in.

Ruby crossed the short distance to Crescent Rose, keeping a careful eye on the Deathstalker in case it made any unexpected moves.

It didn’t. She’d probably hit something important.

Heron went back into its sheath, her fingers lingering on the hilt a moment in thanks for her life. Crescent Rose clicked back into sniper form, rising to press into her shoulder. She leaned into the stock, cheek warm against the metal where they kissed.

Crack!

Ruby turned away from the disintegrating corpse, nose twitching in displeasure as the temporary but foul scent of decaying Grimm filled the clearing. She was more concerned about the smoke. It was growing thicker by the minute.

She felt dread growing within her, settling in her gut like a heavy stone.

Pausing only to check over her supplies, Ruby jogged over to where she’d left her bag. Map, bag, Scroll, weapons, canteen, pack. Everything was in order.

She tilted her head tilted back to look above the canopy. Blue skies as far as the eye could see, littered with fluffy white clouds. The retreating grey line in the distance was a mere memory of the bad weather that had run through here not so long ago.  

The simple beauty was marred by the rising column of darkness to the south. Ruby sighed, eyes squeezing shut for a moment, the stone growing heavier. Though it was only midmorning, the village was hours away by foot, as far south as one could go without crossing the mountains. She didn’t relish the idea of confronting the Grimm she’d find there in the dark, nor whatever sights would be there to greet her.

Nevertheless, Ruby shouldered her pack, tightening it against her body and ignoring the slight aches that came from her aura drawing on her body’s vitality. It would be a long, exhausting march.

And she knew what she would find at the end.

X_0_X

Twilight cloaked the land, but night had already fallen on Horikiri.

Ruby coughed harshly into her fist, arm raised against the plume of oily smoke blown into her face by the wind. The stuff was an omnipresent shadow, veiling everything in dust and darkness. She’d already passed several of the outlying farms mentioned in the reports, each a ruin of what they had once been.

The culprit was hardly subtle, not even bothering to mask its presence. Its massive footprints were impossible to miss – each a pit Ruby could have fit herself into, sunken deep into the soft loam of the fields.

Distantly, a part of her was grateful for the rains that had passed through the area. The moisture in the air as well as what had seeped into the ground and vegetation would go a long way to prevent the fires from spreading. Embers floated through the air, only to fizzle out and die as they drifted down to earth. They were fireflies, spots of beauty flitting through the ashes choking the village.

A simple beauty ignored.

Ruby felt empty. Hollow, like the burnt-out husks she’d passed that had once been homes.

Horikiri burned.

Though weaker than the conflagration that certainly consumed it hours before, the sheer cliffs of the ravine the village rested in at the head of the valley still danced with shadows, flickering orange, black, and red. Above the cackling flames she could hear something massive picking through the ruins, shifting rubble and splintered wood.

Corpses lined the path to the wall, black and desiccated. Ruby had no idea what possible reason the Grimm could have for defiling them so save for intimidation and the satisfaction of making every last moment as excruciating as possible.

If that was its goal, it was successful. Their shriveled visages, twisted in their final expressions of fear, terror, and despair were soul-crushing.

Crescent Rose was a quiet counterpoint to the sounds tormenting her ears, the familiar sliding metal and clicks comforting as she absently shifted it back and forth through its weapon modes.

Her hands clenched the snath tightly, her knuckles white and shaking. The dry air gently caressed her cheeks, but she could feel the wetness gather there in shining streams, silver pools locked on the blackened faces. Was this all that these people felt, before the end?

She felt sick, but it was growing fainter, her emotions draining away more with each and every corpse she passed after leaving the tree line on the village outskirts. Here, looking upon the broken ruins, there was no anger, no fury, no sorrow or chilled horror. Not anymore. Just the remains welding together into fierce resolve.

She was too late.

Again.

But she would avenge these people on their murderer.

Ruby moved with haste, leaving her bag where she would be able to easily retrieve it on her return. Her steps crunched on the gravel, soft ashes not yet thick enough to obscure the sound. She struggled to avoid inhaling a lungful of ash and smoke as they thickened around their source.

She stopped a few feet beyond the wall, staring through the gaping hole that had been ripped in it, wide enough that ten of her could walk through shoulder-to-shoulder. The crushed remnants of the structure were strewn about like toy blocks.

Somewhere within, a house collapsed, sending soot and embers flying.

Ruby shielded her mouth with her shirt and sucked in a deep breath of air as her lungs began to burn. It wasn’t enough, and she hunched over to hack and cough violently. The smoke was too thick to breathe, much less fight in…

Wincing, her mind turned over possibilities, discarding most of them. She didn’t have the material to craft anything on the fly, and there was no guarantee the monster inside the walls would stay in one place if it sensed her.

A solution popped into her brain suddenly, though she winced at the implications for her should the fight go poorly…

Fuck it. She needed to hurry.

Ruby closed her eyes, concentrated her aura upwards, toward her face. Years of training allowed her to mold her soul’s essence into tangible form, creating a barrier, different from those she’d used most often to protect herself.

Those shields were meant to protect her body; keep it safe when other weapons or trauma would otherwise incapacitate her. She didn’t want that – instead she molded it into a filter, permitting clean air through while blocking out the smoke and other debris.

Red light glinted in her lower peripheral vision. Her aura resembled the gauzy, scarlet veils of those Vacuoan dancers Sun had once shown her pictures of, fabric fluttering silently on a nonexistent breeze.

She smiled weakly at the thought.

At least she could breathe now. It was a start.

A scream pierced the air, high and hoarse and terrified. Ruby tensed, one leg already lifting up to carry her over the wall’s fractured foundation, but the sound died as suddenly as it started, accompanied by a violent crash. A low growl of satisfaction took its place, so heavy in the air Ruby could feel the immense size of the creature that created it.

She cursed bitterly and vaulted over the remains of the wall, marching into the ruins.

The village hadn’t been very large, probably only housing a population of a few hundred. Most of the buildings were single-story, made from wood cut from the nearby forest and designed after the dominant Mistrallan style like most buildings in Anima.

Most of them were now in flames, crumbling into themselves or already pulverized by an incredible force. It was a harrowing backdrop, but it had nothing on the dark shape picking through the ruins of the village’s inn. As she stepped into the large courtyard making up the center of the settlement, Ruby faced the shadow.

It was colossal, bulkier than any Nevermore or Goliath she’d ever encountered. It lumbered on four legs like a Berengal but towered over the buildings around it.

Its legs were built like tree-trunks; thick, rounded, and crushingly powerful. Protrusions at the ends only emphasized the comparison, looking like stubby, gnarled roots.

Its body was a mass of muscle and dense, bone-white plate armor, protecting the major areas of its body. Ruby’s stomach sank at the sight – the only Grimm with armor so thick and well-developed were Ancients, those few individuals given centuries to grow and fortify their patience with experience and ever-increasing intelligence.

It had little armor on its back. Instead, huge gnarled growths added an additional meter of height, dragging with them lichens and moss that pulsed black with Grimm corruption. More of the same dangled below the plate covering its face, like a thick and unkempt beard.

It was a Marsh Colossus.

Best known to spawn in northwestern Anima, they seldom grew to this size. They lived stationary lives in swamps, bogs, and marshes, drawing nutrients and strength from their environment and only attacking when humans chose to settle near their territory. Their sedentary nature made them easy targets for huntsmen; every few years there would be a flurry of culling assignments tasking them to fill quotas of Marsh Colossi before any could develop to such immense proportions.

That one was here, hundreds of miles from its preferred habitat, and in such a developed state... It must have been either lucky or clever enough to avoid the extermination teams throughout the centuries. Or never had to worry in the first place – there was a fair chance it might be older than the kingdom itself.

Regardless, it was a foe to be feared.

As if sensing her trepidation, the Colossus lifted its immense head to look at her. The growths framing the bony slab of armor protecting its face looked like an eerie mix of antlers and tree branches. Its crimson eyes bored into her, mixed curiosity and cold hatred, but it made no sound.

Marsh Colossi were notoriously silent, only breaking it when they inevitably moved, or when they wished to announce themselves. Absent-minded passerby could easily find their messy demise by walking past a colossus without realizing it, mistaking them for the dark trees around them.

Behind her, a roof caved in with a loud crash, the fires too much for it.

Her mind evaluated her chances furiously.

There was nothing she could do to kill this Grimm in one blow. Crescent Rose was made for smaller Grimm; for reaping the lives of the fodder that thrived upon Remnant. She had options to inflict terrible harm upon anything, of course, but on her own they were limited. And that was no guarantee that it would kill something this big.

The beast began moving out of the ruins of the inn, absently brushing by the bar and smashing it into splinters. Her eyes darted around the square.

Corpses littered the ground, blackened after being consumed by the Colossus. They were known to draw nutrients from their victims just like they did with their environment. She’d never seen pictures of such a thing in school – she wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or not – and hadn’t recognized it for what it was.

Now she knew.

Driven through the cobblestones that formed the streets were dark, organic growths like those she’d seen earlier. They moved seemingly without direction, lacking a physical connection to the Grimm. Colossi were known to draw strength from the ground, similar to trees and fungi with their extensive root systems, but she had never read up on how, nor the extent of those abilities. She would have to be wary; if it had time to prepare the battlefield then nowhere would be safe for her.

How far did this thing’s reach spread anyways?

Ruby lowered Crescent Rose, holding it perpendicular to her body as the Colossus stepped into the square, going eerily still. Its eyes moved ceaselessly, examining her, calculating, intelligent. Silver eyes returned the look with equal intensity, measuring her opponent.

She couldn’t fell it with a single blow, but there were ways around that. She’d bled opponents before. Her reserves were low, but she was confident in her abilities to outmaneuver the hulking beast.

She made the first move. The world blurred around her, tinting scarlet as she swung Crescent Rose at the thick forelegs of the Grimm - Right, Left - scoring two deep wounds as she came out of her semblance on its side.

Slash up!

The Colossus rumbled, like an aging tree amidst a windstorm, and swatted at her with alarming speed. Ruby ducked the blow, sweeping Crescent Rose above her and drawing blood once more. The rumble grew, more like an avalanche in its intensity now. She was forced far away as it slammed its forelegs into the ground, creating a shockwave.

The force of the blow shook the earth beneath her, two new craters forming where it stove through the cobblestone.

Ruby eyed her work and blanched.

Save for three miniscule scars to mark their locations, the wounds had already healed over. It had only been seconds! No Grimm she had ever seen or heard of had regenerative capabilities of that level.

Back!

Ruby leapt away from the next strike and tapped into her speed, the world blurring around her as she ducked and wove around each and every attack the Colossus made. Crescent Rose sang its mournful dirge as it bit into limbs and cut between chinks and cracks in the otherwise impenetrable armor.

It became a dance. The beast would attack, she would counter or leap out of the way and score yet another superficial wound. It would heal, and they would repeat the process. All the while, crimson eyes bore into her with contempt and fury.

Roll! Slash up! Right! Jab! Right! Slash across the body!

Her instincts guided her body while her mind worked; she needed a better plan if she would win… Ruby could feel her aura slowly draining away as she channeled it into her veil, her body, and her semblance. Eventually she would make a mistake and start taking damage and her reserves would truly start to evaporate. The Colossus, on the other hand, barely seemed winded.

Ruby rolled between its stomach, working the bolt on Crescent Rose as the blade came up against its leg.

Crack!

Her weapon bit deep into flesh, making the monster growl furiously, but then it stuck.

‘Shit!’

She flared her aura, using the burst of strength to rip Crescent out of the bone in a spray of thick, scarlet blood and flying Grimmflesh. Regaining her balance, she immediately sprinted away before it could take advantage of her proximity (she didn’t want to get stomped on!), but the lost time was more than enough for the beast to twist itself around to face her.

The beast rumbled and, abandoning its stationary tactics, charged, utterly unaffected by the small hurts she’d inflicted with her pitiful assault. Ruby made to duck to the side of the beast before it trampled her but was halted by a familiar presence suddenly snared legs, growing tighter by the second. Her eyes widened in fear.

‘Doubt-shit!’ Crescent Rose dipped down to her ankles, slashing through the tendrils.

The earth around her erupted in a sea of flying stone and vegetation as even more of the growths punched their way through the streets. Another slash and her other leg was freed, and she danced between the writhing tendrils as they reached for her limbs with poisonous intent.

The ground shook violently beneath her, the Colossus an unstoppable force glaring hate through its furious crimson eyes.

Don’t just stand there! Get away! UP!

Desperate, Ruby drove Crescent Rose’s barrel into the ground and pulled the trigger, pouring her aura into her body.

Crack!

The recoil, combined with her semblance, launched her away in a cloud of rose petals, high into the air.

It wasn’t enough.

A huge foreleg, black as a nightmare and plated with armor denser than stone reached up and swatted her out of the sky, sending her tumbling off to the side as the behemoth trampled over her previous position. Ruby’s entire world tilted for a moment, her aura flaring into visibility around her as she crashed through a wall.

She cried out on impact, pain quick to follow her landing. Her back slammed into something hard – several other heavy weights toppling onto her immediately after. The scarlet barrier she relied upon for survival flickered violently around her, her reserves of aura depleting itself to repair her damaged flesh and bones.

The house she’d landed in shook as the Colossus slammed into the ravine wall with a jaw-rattling boom. Several crashes followed; the building she’d stood in front of crumbling around the beast.

For a breathless moment, Ruby lay there, bones aching, and realized something chilling.

She had to get away.

As far away as possible.

It was a painful epiphany, but nonetheless true. Her soul was even now sapping the vitality from her body in a desperate effort to replace the losses from a single blow. In just a few minutes she’d be even more fatigued - and lacking her single greatest defense entirely should she take another hit.

If it didn’t simply kill her outright.

She had to get away and warn the rest of Mistral; put together a hunting party to track the Ancient down and kill it before it could move on and inflict itself on another helpless settlement.

Ruby doubted she could hurt it in her current state, even if she tried again and again. With more of its cards shown, it had too much control over the battlefield and it was too canny to fall for the same tricks more than once. It had nearly killed her already, to say nothing about whatever other abilities it likely had sequestered away.

Get up.

Rolling over, Ruby drove her fist into the floorboards, snarling as her knuckles bruised. Every ounce of her frustration went into the punch, the pain her penance for having to abandon her mission and the vengeance Horikiri deserved.

For now.

She would return.

Resolved, Ruby pushed herself to her feet, leaning heavily on Crescent Rose. Dozens of heavy ceramic tiles tumbled off of her, the remains of the roof caved in above her. She winced as even more pain made itself known. Her legs hurt like they’d been flayed…

Wait. Her face paled and she knelt down to examine the places where she’d been held down by the vines. Her dark stockings were sticky with the resinous substance she’d seen coating the vines. She roughly tore away the material and cringed at the sight of her ankles. Where the substance had seeped through the thin material, the skin was red and inflamed, in some places blackened and dead.

She hadn’t even noticed it from earlier – too consumed by her mission to separate the pain from the expected fatigue and strain of hiking for so long.

Careful to avoid touching any more of the stuff, Ruby pressed her fingers against her leg and found that the skin surrounding the substance was numb. It was only the worst affected areas where the pain was beginning to bloom.

That settled it. She needed to get away. It was already enough without adding poison on top of it all.

Chirp!

What? Ruby perked up.

Chirp!

She knew that sound.

Chirp!

The building on the other side of the courtyard, where the Colossus had ended its bull-rush toward her, disappeared in a flurry of smoke and embers as the creature swiped away what little remained. Its massive head tilted upwards to regard the airship that now filled the air with its call with hateful, wary eyes.

Ruby felt her heart lift on seeing the Bullhead. She could escape!

Then three shapes dropped from the craft, and that feeling vanished, replaced by bewilderment and dread. What were they doing? They didn’t seriously think they could fight it, did they?

Glass and splintered wood were shifted aside as the Colossus stepped back into the courtyard. It stilled then, statuesque and unnatural as darkness wisped off of its body.

Cringing as the action pulled at her inflamed skin, Ruby jogged toward the newcomers, taking in their appearance.

One, smaller than the rest and armed with a short sword and pistol, was obviously a Mistrallan pilot. She’d become well-acquainted with the distinct cut of their uniforms over the years she’d lived there. His aviator’s cap obscured his features from her, but she noted that he had a particularly sharp chin and his lips were pulled into a nervous frown.

His companions were huntsmen. One medium-height and stocky, the other built like a warrior of old, tall and broad-shouldered, with shining plate armor layered all over his upper body to complete the image.

She jogged over and Stocky offered his hand to her in greeting, eyes never leaving the Colossus. “Bai Long.”

Still bewildered, Ruby took the offered hand anyways, giving it a firm shake. His companion gave her a little wave. “Reed Bryce, we’re here from one of the villages up north. Saw the smoke after finishing up our mission and thought we should check it out.”

“Ruby Rose,” she answered tersely, nodding to the pilot. The man kept his silence. He was pale, like he might be sick at any moment. Who invited him?

“What’s the scoop on the Grimm?” Reed asked, smile undeterred by the menacing gaze aimed at them.

The Colossus was content to wait for them, apparently. Something in its bearing radiated smug contempt. Almost laziness, if one ignored the burning hate in its eyes. Complete certainty that it could – and would – kill them all in time, certainly. Ruby suspected that if they attempted to flee, they would be stopped anyways. Her allies would, at least.

Fine.

If these huntsmen wanted to put up a fight, then she would help them. If the Colossus wasn’t going to stop them from putting together a battle plan, all the better for their chances.

Just fine.

She took a breath, centering herself.

“It’s a Marsh Colossus. Ancient. It’s got a network of vines underground that it can use to grab you,” Ruby listed quickly, anything she could think of. “It’s big and dangerous, and it regenerates faster than I can hurt it. I was thinking about running before you showed up.”

Intending to run, but they didn’t need to know that.

Bai nodded. “We saw as much,” he said. He indicated a tiny metal contraption resting on Reed’s shoulder. A video probe. Many huntsmen used them to document their assignments. She hadn’t found a need to bring hers along this time – a mistake in hindsight. “You are okay after that hit?”

“Not really, but I can fight.”

“Excellent.” Bai drew a pair of long, curved daggers from his belt, pressing the hilts together to form a single continuous piece. With a series of metallic clicks, the piece became a bow, which he efficiently began to string. “I am a bowman, obviously. My semblance allows me to control air currents to enhance my shots, among other things.”

“I can charge up my strength if I get some time to concentrate,” Reed added, a heavy spear now held comfortably in his massive hands.

Ruby nodded, eyes flicking to the pilot briefly and receiving a hasty shake of the head in reply. He would have an aura, but no semblance, as was common with most pilots. Aura was too useful to go without unlocking when it could save a life in a crash, but semblances were rare to develop for anyone save huntsmen.

Apparently, their pilot ally wasn’t one of those precious few. Shame.

Ruby eyed Reed’s spear, mentally sifting through what strategies they could use. “How strong is your weapon, Reed?”

“Strong enough.”

“Strong enough to pierce an Ancient’s armor?”

The huge man’s grin was as wide as it was vicious. “I am confident in Clarent’s abilities.”

At literally any other time Ruby would have been interested in knowing more about the duo’s weapons, but not now. “Good. My semblance is speed. You charge yourself up as much as you can while we draw its attention. Pilot - keep those vines from touching Reed. Your sword should cut through them pretty easily if you use your aura,” she explained, all business. “Bai, you and I are going to distract it. When Reed’s ready I’ll launch him at the Colossus. If you can give us a boost with your semblance, do it. With any luck it’ll die in one blow. Any questions?”

Bai shook his head in the negative, while Reed just gave her a thumbs up, sinking to a knee and closing his eyes in intense concentration. His drone lifted itself away from his shoulder, autonomous and ready to record the fight. The pilot shuddered but nodded to her, drawing his sword.

Crescent Rose shifted into rifle mode with a flick of her finger. She’d need all the speed and maneuverability she could get this fight. “Let’s move, huntsmen!”

Ruby felt a warm flare of aura behind her as Reed began charging his semblance. The Ancient seemed to sense their intention, as below them the ground erupted with dozens of thrashing vines, each seeking to incapacitate or cripple.

Praying for the pilot to pull his own weight and keep the spearman safe, she fixed her attention on the Grimm. Crescent Rose dipped forward, barrel pointed at the ground in front of her.

Crack!

She launched into the air, taking potshots at the Colossus as she began to circle around the edges of the courtyard. Every time she lost momentum she’d land on some crumbling piece of architecture, careful to pick spaces that would hold her weight and to never stand still long enough for the Grimm to catch her out.

Opposite her, Bai peppered the beast with shining arrows. Forgoing a quiver, the bowman pulled each arrow from the air itself. Each shot flew with an eerie shriek unlike anything Ruby had heard before; a mix of wind in the mountains on a freezing winter’s day and nails on a chalkboard.

While he didn’t have the same luxury of speed or recoil to boost his leaping that Ruby did, Bai made up for it by creating translucent platforms of solid air, gracefully leaping from one to the next when he couldn’t find a safe foothold to land on.

Together they harried the Colossus, each shot blowing holes in its hide or chipping away at its formidable armor as it swatted at them like tiny flies. Houses were reduced to flinders, smoke and embers amidst the action as the Grimm rampaged through the village, organized streets of cobblestone quickly turning into a churned-up mess as the beast’s heavy footfalls tore them apart.

For all their efforts, they failed to inflict any real damage on the Colossus – it regenerated too quickly for that - but they were persistent enough to keep it distracted and agitated. Like any Ancient it was intelligent, far superior to its mindless lesser brethren, but it was still limited. Consumed by the chase, it was seemingly content to leave Reed relatively unmolested while it pursued the more interesting prey.

Not to say it didn’t try to eliminate the prone huntsman. Vines constantly erupted from the ground to interrupt Reed’s concentration. The pilot was quick to dispatch them though, his aura-empowered strength more than enough to cut through the tough fibers.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing, however.

They had to buy as much time as possible, but it was obvious that they were running out. With the destruction of so many buildings, Ruby and Bai were left with fewer and fewer places to land safely.

She worked furiously at the bolt of Crescent Rose to keep herself airborne, but with every second Ruby knew she would soon have to touch the ground and risk even more of those tendrils leaping out to restrain her.

Without warning, her luck ran out and a piece of masonry collapsed beneath her.

‘Shit!’

Heart leaping in her throat, she prepared to hit the ground running when she was saved. A transparent platform appeared beneath her suddenly, glowing with the telltale sky-blue of Bai’s aura.

Ruby aimed a mental ‘thank you’ at the huntsman, staggering a little at the unexpected landing but quickly finding her balance. She leapt away before she was crushed beneath another swing of the beast’s colossal arms.

Still more seconds passed; they were falling behind.

Blows edged ever closer as their reflexes grew less sharp and fatigue conspired to make their movements more and more sluggish. The underground tendrils became more of a serious threat as safe landing spots grew scarce. Too much more of this and Ruby knew she’d have to dip back into her aura reserves…

Ruby could see Bai tiring as well. He used his semblance ever more sparingly, stretching his aura to last as long as possible. Neither of them were built or trained for long sprints like this.

They just needed a little more time…

The bowman was the first to make a crucial mistake, reacting just a second too slow to leap over a sweeping forelimb. His arms flew up in front of his face, forming a misty barrier between the behemoth and himself. While it did absorb most of the momentum, the blow still sent Bai reeling.

Ruby cursed internally, Crescent Rose’s bark accompanying her leap toward the huntsman. She hit the transformation switch, swapping out for its scythe form and swinging downwards.

The Colossus reeled back in pain as a massive gash appeared along the length of its foreleg. She somersaulted on landing, twisting her body to come up sweeping her scythe in a low arc, parallel to the ground. The tendrils that had instantly risen to encircle her limbs fell away, thrashing on the ground.

She ran over and cut Bai free of the bonds that had already pulled and anchored him to the ground. Her worried eyes lingered on the resin covering his arms and legs as she pulled the bowman to his feet, before she grabbed him around the waist and blurred them away with her semblance a split second before they were crushed by the Colossus.

She stopped at a relatively safe spot on the other side of the courtyard, several houses down from their allies on top of a relatively-intact roof. Her legs ached horribly, taxed by the sprint and her passenger.

The Colossus slowly began to turn itself back around. Throughout the battle it had proven to be deceptively fast, but it took its time when repositioning itself.

“Rose! Bai! I am ready!”

The two huntsmen looked at Reed, whose aura was flaring brightly. It was gold, a little more on the tinny side than yellow, but bright and shining amidst the gloom and haze.

So similar to –

Not fucking now.

Ruby turned to Bai. “Get it to face us. This is either going to work, or it isn’t.”

He nodded, grasping her wrist before she leapt down. He had very subdued blue eyes, Ruby noted. “Thank you for my life.”

Her lips quirked upwards wearily, feeling the bite the rescue had taken out of her aura reserves. “Anytime.”

Reed had levelled Clarent at the Colossus by the time Ruby joined him, the spear surrounded by the same nimbus of light as its wielder. On the other side of the courtyard, Bai was already shooting away at the Colossus, keeping its attention fixated on himself while the two prepared to execute their gambit.

The pilot was still busy hacking away at the vines. He was doing a pretty good job. The ground was littered with dead vegetation. Ruby levelled a serious look at the spear-wielder. “You’re ready for this?”

He shot her a wide, almost-manic grin. “I was born ready, Rose!”

“Let’s do it then,” Ruby said, giving a tiny smile of her own. Her blood, already pumping from exertion and excess adrenaline, seemed to burn hotter near so much concentrated energy. Aura practically bled off the man. She took a step back, setting her feet and pooling her own aura into her body, readying it for the burst of speed.

Then she moved. The world blurred around her as she wrapped her arms around the huntsman and drew him into her bubble of pure velocity. Ruby’s aura briefly strained after the hit from earlier, her legs trying to heal, the day’s exertion and now carrying this huge man, but it was a short journey.

The scarlet tint around her eyesight, touched blue by Bai’s semblance aiding her, vanished and she let go of her passenger, landing laterally on the Ancient’s shoulder and flipping away before the true attack could land.

She landed in a crouch as Reed connected with a roar and a sickening crack, rose petals sweeping past her. The Colossus’ impenetrable armor splintered around Clarent, the spearhead driving deep into its chest, seeking vital organs. Skidding backwards from the force, the Grimm carved a new divot in the cobblestone, only slowing to a halt against the remains of a decorative fountain.

The monster shrieked.

Powerfully, loudly. Excruciatingly for her poor eardrums, which threatened to burst despite her aura’s best efforts.

It was a sound unlike any she’d ever experienced, and one soon joined by the comparably faint sound of crunching bone and metal. Ruby dropped to her knees, clutching her ears as they cried out in protest of the needles driving deep within. One second. Two.

The roar intensified, pressing against her skin as a tangible presence. Ruby grit her teeth, enduring the onslaught just like the others.

Five. Six. Seven…

Just. Stop. Screaming…

Ten.

Eleven…

…

Eventually, it did, to her sweet relief.

Letting her hands fall from her ears (and ignoring the slow trickle of blood and tingle of her aura as it went to work repairing her eardrums), Ruby looked up to see the result of their strategy.

Her heart dropped.

Reed was dead, his skin already blackening in the Colossus’ fist. His armor had crumpled like tin foil in the beast’s horrifically strong grip. Bone protruded from his ruined flesh in several places - where they hadn’t been pulped together already.

Clarent remained deep inside the Grimm’s body, the spear protruding from its chest amidst a gruesome morass of shattered armor and charred Grimmflesh. The wound bled a steady stream of scarlet tar, the Colossus twitching and shuddering randomly, obviously enduring incredible pain.

From a great distance, Ruby heard Bai scream in horror and grief, and belatedly realized that her gambit had failed.

They’d broken the Ancient’s primary defense – that wouldn’t be restored fully for centuries to come. But its flesh was already sealing closed around Clarent, leaving the weapon permanently impaled inside.

It was vulnerable now, and more hurt than it had probably ever been in its life, but it still wasn’t enough.

The Colossus flung the desiccated corpse in its grip to the ground, turning to face the rest of them. Its eyes burned like hellfire, promising slow death for they who dared to truly wound it.

The earth shook with the force of its furious, cold snarl.

Ruby began to slowly back away, her heartrate beginning to hasten once more into panic mode. They were out of options now. The Ancient was done toying with its prey. They needed to run.

“Bai!” she shouted over her shoulder, voice rising with her emotions, “Pilot! We need to run, now!”

The Colossus thundered, truly enraged now, and moved, building the momentum to trample her once again. Ruby twisted and ran, chilled by the realization that she had very little aura left to fuel her semblance.

The earth trembled behind her.

The world started to bleed scarlet and she jumped forward just a few feet, but then the world shook around her, and she staggered out of her semblance prematurely.

Ruby turned to see Bai, aura flaring white-blue, stop the Ancient in its tracks and hold it behind a massive, concentrated barrier. Not even seconds after its creation, jagged fractures had begun webbing across the polished face, the huntsman straining to his limit against the rampaging beast.

“Go!”

Thu-ump.

Ruby blanched. “What? No! I am not leaving you!”

“I will not leave my brother behind!” Bai snarled, a vein throbbing in his temple. “The drone! Take it, the pilot, and get as far away from here as possible! Our ship will reach the city before you. Find it when it returns and get back to Mistral…! Tell them what has happened, form a team… Rgh…! Come back to kill this abomination!”

Her mouth worked soundlessly around a denial, but Bai was set. “We have lost! Make sure our sacrifice is not in vain, Ruby Rose!”

Something within her quailed, but after a moment’s indecision she accepted the huntsman’s choice. It was the same conclusion she’d come to earlier, just more painful and accompanied by even more death.

They had lost.

She could still make it worth something, though.

She would.

Ruby blurred forward, thankful for the lack of vines to trip her up. Sidestepping the Ancient, she cringed as the barrier shattered with a sound like breaking pottery. The beast snarled, its forelegs crashed into the ground, rattling the village, and Bai was forced to roll away to avoid being splattered beneath the rampaging Grimm.

The huntsman brought his bow back up instantly and began shooting away at the vulnerable flesh they’d exposed. It was soft and weak after so much time spent covered by the impenetrable armor, but the wounds still closed faster than Bai could reopen them.

They were painful, vicious thorns to the Colossus though, and kept its bloody gaze fixated on the bowman.

She slid a halt next to Reed, gagging on the foul odor rising from his body when it reached past her veil. The drone had returned itself to where she’d seen it earlier, attached to his shoulder pad and only slightly worse for wear amidst the chaos. Ruby pocketed it, hoping that the information it had recorded would be enough to give the next party a chance.

Touching his forehead briefly in the most rudimentary blessing she knew of, Ruby stood and blurred toward the pilot. He’d drawn his pistol and was shooting at the Ancient while it was preoccupied chasing down Bai.

He lowered the weapon as she stopped near him. “We are to go?” the man asked shakily.

Ruby nodded, steeling herself for her next action.

The pilot looked back at Bai. “I do not like abandoning him; he would not have done the same to me,” he admitted.

“I don’t either,” Ruby agreed curtly. She wrapped an arm around the man’s waist. “But we need to get away – as far as possible – and get word out to Mistral. I’ll use my semblance for as long as I can, but after that we’re running.”

He nodded weakly, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, giving her a better hold to work with.

He was lightweight compared to Reed. It was a small blessing. Ruby projected a heartfelt mental apology to the two huntsmen before pouring what little aura she had remaining into her semblance.

One foot in front of the other. Faster. The world took on a scarlet tinge, blurring for more than one reason as moisture spilled down her cheeks.

They accelerated. Past the ruined buildings, through the gaping hole in the village’s wall, across the ruined fields and out into the forest.

‘I’m so sorry…’

As far away as she could take them.

Keep moving.

Her body protested, but she would have none of it while they were so close.

Keep. Moving. Forward.

They rested a minute when Ruby’s aura finally sputtered out, several miles away from Horikiri. Her chest heaved, unable to draw enough breath. Her face glistened with sweat in the last light of the day, streaked with grime and tears and filth. She couldn’t feel her legs, save for the faintest of twinges where she knew the poison was working its way into her flesh.

Despite the reprieve, all she could taste was ash.

They started moving again when they heard the crash, faint and muted by distance.

It was succeeded by a piercing cry of victory. She forced herself to ignore the painful ache in her chest as she ordered the pilot to his feet, swiping at her eyes. Ruby’s legs burned as she set a punishing pace for them both, but it was nothing to what she felt whenever she pictured the death she’d borne witness to that day.

They pressed onwards, no matter the pain. They had a job to complete.

Just keep moving forward.

[prepare4trouble]

Star Wars Rebels fanfic - Hypotheticals

Part of the Little By Little AU

(Thank you to @lessattitudemorealtitude for talking through titles with me)

Three quiet taps on the door of Sabine’s quarters interrupted her creative flow mid-spray of her paint can. She finished the line she had been painting, then reluctantly tore her eyes away from her wall and lowered the can. She waited, finger still poised to press the valve. If it was important, they would knock again.

Nothing happened. Five seconds passed. Ten. She took a breath. Twenty seconds, still no second knock. That was long enough. She looked critically at the painting, raised the spray-can and aimed it, then lowered it again.

Whoever it was either didn’t know she was in, in which case they would assume she was somewhere else and waste time trying to find her, or they did know she was there, and they knew she was ignoring them.

Either way, she was going to have to answer.

With a frustrated sigh, she tossed the spray can onto her bed where it hit another that she had left there earlier. She opened the door.

There was nobody there.

Puzzled, she stepped through and looked left and then right, just in time to see Ezra’s retreating form walking slowly away from her door.

“Ezra?” she called after him.

He froze in place mid-step, then turned slowly. As he did, a nervous grin spread across his face. He raised a hand and brushed it through his hair. “Oh, uh… hey Sabine. How’s it going?”

She frowned. Apparently whatever he had wanted wasn’t urgent then. “Fine,” she told him. A questioning tone slid into the word, but Ezra either didn’t notice, or chose to ignore it.

He rubbed the back of his neck distractedly. “Great,” he said. “So, uh… what’s up?”

Sabine looked him up and down, trying to work out what was happening. He was acting as though he hadn’t just knocked on her door, and meeting her here was a total surprise. There was nobody else around, so it must have been him that knocked. That meant that unless he had decided it would be funny to knock and run — and if so he was incredibly bad at the game because she had given him ample time to flee — he had wanted to talk to her.

“Not much,” she replied. “How about you? Did you need something?”

Ezra looked thoughtful for a moment, like he was mulling over his options. He glanced behind him, in the direction he had been walking when she had stopped him, then to her again. Finally, he made a decision, and strode back toward her. “Mind if I..?” he said, indicating the door to her quarters.

Sabine shrugged and walked back through, Ezra followed her.

As the door closed behind him, he folded his arms and went to lean against the wall. The freshly painted wall, still glistening with wet paint.

“Hey, watch it!” she shouted, anticipating the disaster a fraction of a second before he ruined both her work and his clothing.

He flinched in surprise at the unexpected outburst, but it stopped him. He turned and saw her unfinished art on the wall. “Oh. Sorry.” He looked again, appreciatively this time. “Were you working on this just now?”

“Yeah, trying to,” she said, and winced at the impatience she heard in her own voice. It hadn’t been intentional, and she definitely hadn’t been trying to make him feel unwelcome. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just, it’s not finished. You know I don’t like people seeing them before they’re done.

“Right.” Ezra averted his gaze from the half-finished design on the wall and continued not to speak.

Sabine folded her arms and gave him a moment to say something. He remained silent.

“Not that it isn’t great to have you here Ezra, but was there anything you needed, or…”

“Yeah, I uh…” He glanced around the room, selected another patch of wall, one that was also painted but long-since dried, and leaned against that instead. There was something awkward about the way he was standing. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but there was something wrong. He was being too careful; almost as though he was trying to make it look casual. The result — exaggerated nonchalance to the point where it was almost funny — probably wasn’t exactly what he was going for.

She waited.

“So…” he said after a few moments of silence. “Here’s something I was just thinking about.” He adjusted his leaning position to something that looked marginally more comfortable. “What would you do if you couldn’t fight the Empire?”

She blinked. That… wasn’t the question she had been expecting. “If I couldn’t… what do you mean? Like if they defeated us? I’d be dead, Ezra. We all would.”

“No. Like if…” Ezra scrubbed at his face with his fingers and shook his head. “Like if you couldn’t for another reason. If… if all the weapons in the galaxy stopped working or something, so you had to do something else. Then what would you do?”

This had to have something to do with his sight. She couldn’t figure out exactly what yet, but it was the only explanation that made any sense. Something to do with him feeling that he couldn’t fight anymore. “You can still fight the Empire, Ezra,” she assured him. “Just give it a little time.”

He tensed noticeably, and she knew that she had been right. Realizing that he had given himself away, he made a visible effort to relax and continued to lean awkwar… casually… against the wall. He waved a hand through the air as though he was brushing away her words.

“Yeah, I know I can,” he told her. “This isn’t about that. I just want to know what you’d do. Just, y’know, out of interest.”

He was lying. And he wasn’t even lying well.

“You want to know what I’d do if all the weapons in the galaxy stopped working?” she asked.

He nodded. “But the Empire is still there, you just can’t fight it.”

Sabine’s mind was already working through the various possible consequences of the hypothetical scenario Ezra had presented her with, and if that was really what he wanted to talk to her about, she had plenty of answers she could give him. She just wasn’t sure how useful they were going to be.

“Okay,” she told him. “First, I would still be able to fight them; I don’t need weapons to fight. Especially if the other side isn’t armed either. I’m assuming ‘all the weapons in the galaxy’, means the Empire doesn’t have any either, right?”

Ezra frowned. “Oh. Yeah, I guess not.”

“If the Empire didn’t have weapons, they wouldn’t be much of a problem anymore. The only reason they manage to hold onto power is that they have the firepower to keep people in line. Take away their weapons and we win, whether we’re armed or not.”

“They still have Stormtroopers and Inquisitors, and… other things.” He shivered slightly, almost imperceptibly, at whatever thought or memory had struck him.

“We have powerful people too,” she told him. “Come on, what’s this really about, Ezra?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just making conversation. Humor me, okay?”

She was humoring him. But if he wanted to keep going with this, she had more. “Fine. If nobody had any weapons, the Rebellion would actually have more chance of beating the Empire,” she said. “Plenty of people are trained in hand-to-hand combat, and I don’t just mean Mandalorians. Plus I bet most Stormtroopers don’t get that kind of training, because the first thing the Empire does is stuff their recruits into bulky armor and hand them a blaster.”

Ezra nodded. “True, I guess.”

“Defections from the Empire would probably go up too,” she said.

“Yeah, that makes sense. People don’t leave because they’re worried about what the Empire will do to them and their families.”

Taking away the Empire’s weapons wouldn’t neutralize the threat, of course, but it would make it easier to get people out before the Empire got to them. “All this adds up to a weaker Empire. Forget not being able to fight them, we’d probably defeat them by the end of the month.”

“Okay.” Ezra shifted his weight to the other foot, still leaning against the wall, but standing much more normally now, like he had forgotten about his attempt at nonchalance. “You seem to have a weirdly huge number of ideas about this. Have you thought about it before?”

She shook her head. They had occasionally done thought exercises like this when she had been at the Academy, but the themes had been vastly different. “Nope,” she told him. “I’m just smart. Oh, and ‘weapons’ doesn’t just mean blasters and lightsabers. Even if they did all stop working, there’d be nothing to stop people reverting to swords or bows and arrows. Even a tree branch or something could be a weapon if you knew how to use it. Which I do, by the way.”

Ezra frowned thoughtfully. He stepped away from the wall, hesitated, then leaned again. “Okay all good points. But what I meant was more like what would you…” he paused. “Okay, try this instead. The weapons stop working, everyone rises up and we kick the Empire’s butts out into Wild Space or something. They’re not a threat anymore. What would you do then? Just around the base.”

“So… in peacetime?”

He nodded.

What he was really asking was what she would be doing with herself if she was in his position. Not necessarily exactly his position, but unable to contribute to the war effort, however temporarily. He didn’t need to think about that. He was going to be back on duty before he knew it.

“You do realize that if we defeated the Empire we wouldn’t need a base anymore, don’t you?”

He pressed his lips together. “Sabine…” he said. There was an almost pleading note in his voice that she didn’t like.

She wanted to help, but she didn’t have an answer for him. Not one that he would be able to use, anyway. What she might to if and when they won the fight against the Empire was not relevant to his situation now. She hesitated, torn between answering his question honestly; what would she do if the war was over, and answering the question he was really asking; what should he do, now?

“We wouldn’t be on the base,” she said. “We’d be back on the Ghost, doing what we always used to do before we were here, minus attacks on the Empire. But if I did end up staying here, I guess I’d have more free time, so I’d be able to work on my art. It’d be a good idea to work on my hand-to-hand skills too, I guess. I mean, I’m good, but if the weapons aren’t working and can’t be fixed, I’d want to be the best I could. Just because there’s no Empire and no weapons doesn’t mean there won’t be people who want to fight.”

“I guess,” Ezra said. He looked agitated. What she was saying wasn’t helping him. Of course, she still wasn’t clear on exactly what he wanted help with.

“What about you?” she asked. “What would you do?”

He shrugged and this time slumped rather than leaned against the wall, no longer looking awkward but simply defeated. “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Ezra…” she began, but stopped. That was honesty at last, but she didn’t know what to do with it. She didn’t know what he needed from her. Nothing about this conversation made any sense; it was like she was missing a piece of a puzzle, some vital piece of information that would make everything click into place. Why was Ezra suddenly talking, however cryptically, about doing something other than his usual role within the Rebellion?

“Has someone said something to you?” she asked.

People had said things about Kanan.

In the months that followed Kanan and Ezra’s return from Malachor, it had taken time for Kanan to recover and to learn the skills he had needed — skills that he was now trying to pass on to Ezra. For months, he had been distant as he had tried and failed to cope with the sudden and permanent loss of his sight. This time had coincided with their first few months on the base, getting things up and running, and beginning to bring in new people. People that they didn’t know, and that didn’t know them.

Some of those people had had opinions about someone living on the base, but not appearing to contribute to the fight. Some of those people had been stupid enough to voice those opinions where Sabine could hear them.

They had only made that mistake once.

Ezra hadn’t answered her question. If anybody had said anything like that to him, she was going to hurt them.

“Ezra,” she said, more firmly this time. “Has anyone said anything? Anything like they sai…” She hesitated. She didn’t know whether Ezra knew about that, and if he didn’t, she didn’t want to bring it up. Especially not now.

“Like they said about Kanan?” Ezra shook his head. “No.”

So he knew. She wished he didn’t.

“I’m the one that said something,” he continued. “To Hera, I mean. She agreed with me — well, she kind of agreed with me — but that’s all that happened.” He paused and his lips twitched into a hint of a smile. “Please don't punch anybody.”

It was only then that Sabine realized her hands were clenched into fists. With effort, she relaxed them and lay them flat on the table in front of her. “What do you mean? What did you say to Hera?”

He folded his arms tightly. “You knew then,” he said instead of a reply. “About Kanan; what people were saying?”

Sabine winced. New people had been arriving daily back then. They were people who weren’t a part of the family, people who had never seen Kanan in action. People who knew him only as a blind man that the Rebellion was supporting; someone who even after he was as recovered as he was going to get, persisted in spending his days in quiet meditation. That didn’t excuse what she had overheard someone say.

“It only happened once when I was around,” she said. “They learned not to say it again.”

Ezra gave another small smile. “Same,” he told her.

“You’re sure nobody said anything to you?” she asked.

“I’m sure, Sabine. But if they had, I could deal with it myself.”

Of course he could. Whether or not he would was another question. Ezra was more than capable of looking after himself, but he was also fragile when it came to the issue of his sight. He seemed to have been doing marginally better recently, but an overheard comment like that could easily set him back.

“So what’s going on then?” she asked. “Really?”

“Nothing.”

She glared at him. If he thought he was going to get away with that…

Ezra sighed deeply and tore his eyes away from the painting on the wall. He crossed the room in a few steps and sat down opposite her. “I mean it,” he said. “Literally nothing. I’m bored. I need something to do.”

She could understand that. She had been feeling it herself. It had been weeks since her last off-world mission, and she was itching for something interesting to do. It had to be so much worse for Ezra, because he didn’t have the next mission to look forward to. Until Hera and Sato approved him for duty again, he was essentially trapped here with nothing to do but think about, and plan for, the future.

Forget being bored; that would be enough to drive someone crazy.

“So you asked Hera for a job,” she said.

He nodded. “I asked to go on the general duty roster.”

Sabine winced at the idea. “Really? You want to do droid work?”

“It’s not droi… well okay, it is on some worlds, but we don’t have a droid for every job so around here it’s people work.”

Okay, he had a point there. “But I thought you wanted to be less bored, not more. You really think spending your days picking up trash is going to make things better?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what Hera said too. I mean, she didn’t put it like that, but she thinks I should pick a real job.”

“Good.”

Ezra didn’t respond.

“Isn’t it?”

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Sure. I guess. She wants me to think of something I can do.”

And suddenly the conversation earlier made a lot more sense. “And you’re trying to get ideas by asking people what they’d do. You’d probably have better luck if you asked them what they think you should do.”

“Yeah, I figured that from your spectacularly unhelpful answers,” Ezra said with an eye roll.

She shrugged. “Hey, you asked a question, I answered it. But now you’ve asked another question, so let’s try to figure out an answer to that one too, huh? What do you like doing?”

Ezra hesitated. “It’s not as simple as that.”

Sabine waited for him to elaborate on that, but he didn’t say anything else. She sighed. “Ezra, if you want me to help, you’re going to have to…”

“It needs to be something I can keep doing,” he interrupted before she could finish.

She frowned. She wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that — whether he needed to pick something that he would be able to continue doing rather than constantly changing his mind, or whether Hera was hoping that whatever he picked would still be useful to him after he was back on duty — but she could tell that the idea was bothering him. She didn’t understand why. It made sense that he should pick something that he could stick with, rather than odd jobs that would change every day. He needed something that he could concentrate on, get good at. Maybe even something that he would enjoy doing until he was ready to go back to his real job.

“Okay,” she said. “So definitely something you think you’d enjoy, then.”

Ezra shook his head. “You don’t get it. She want me to think of something I’ll still be able to do when…” he paused. “You know.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that. It made sense, she supposed. But for some reason it had never even occurred to her that his sight might be a consideration. “Right. Okay.”

“But I don’t know what I’ll be able to do then,” Ezra said. “I’m still learning how to do stuff, and right now it’s all just walking around and… normal stuff, you know? Nothing specific to some job I haven’t even thought of yet. And because I don’t know what job to pick, it’s not like I can even get an idea of what I’ll be able to do from Kanan. And anyway, if I could do everything Kanan can do, I’d be back on active duty and this whole thing’d be irrelevant.”

He had a point.

“So she wants me to have a backup job, in case I’m never good enough to go on missions again.”

“That’s not it.” Sabine shook her head. Hera wouldn’t do that.

He shrugged. “She said I could go on the general duty roster if I really wanted, but she thought something else would be better. And she said ‘alternate role’, Sabine. What else could she mean by that?”

“She didn’t mean it like that. She just wants you to think about something you’d be good at doing. She probably doesn’t want you changing your mind every five minutes. She might have phrased it wrong, but there’s no way she meant it like that.”

Ezra seemed to relax a little, convinced by Sabine’s certainty. “Maybe you’re right. But…” he hesitated and looked away from her again. “I’m not picking up what Kanan’s teaching me quickly enough. It’s hard. But it’s not like the other Force stuff, I can’t figure it out in own time because whether I learn it or not, I’m still going blind at the same speed.”

Sabine wasn’t sure she had ever heard him say it like that before. He had hesitated before he spoke, but once he had started, there had been no attempt to dodge the subject, it was simply a statement of fact. She bit her lip. “I’m sure you’re learning it just fine. It took Kanan time too.”

“Kanan had to figure it out for himself.” His hand moved to something attached to his belt, something she hadn’t noticed before. A folded white object. His fingers rested there for a few moments before moving away again. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was obviously significant somehow. He shrugged, “But I guess he got more practice; he didn’t get to stop after the lesson finished.”

Sabine took a deep breath. “So what are you going to do?” she asked.

“Practice more, I guess. But covering my eyes up isn’t exactly how I want to spend my last few years of usable vision.”

There was more honesty coming from him in this conversation than the last few months combined, which was why she was reluctant to tell him that hadn’t been what she had meant. She had been asking whether he would opt for the duty roster, or a specific roll. He did bring her to another point though. “Do you even have the time to be starting a new job? I mean, if you need to study, shouldn’t you be spending your time doing that?”

He couldn’t study with Kanan all day, of course, but he was right, he could practice for himself. He could go over the things they had done in his lessons, come up with exercises that he could repeat until he got them right. It was how she had learned when she had been at the Academy. Lessons with a tutor, followed by study by herself. There hadn’t been time to learn how to do some random job, there had been more important uses for her time.

“I am concentrating on that,” he said. “I just want to do something else too. It’s not going to be all the time, just enough that my whole life isn’t about my stupid eyes.”

Only, it was. Even putting aside the fact that it must be impossible to forget because he could see the damage everywhere he looked, Hera was making him consider his sight in whatever roll he chose to take on around the base. It made sense from one point of view; if he was going to train in a new job it would be a waste of time to pick one he would be unable to do in a year’s time. On the other hand, whether he could do the job without his sight should be irrelevant because by the time he was blind, he would have all the skills he needed to be a full member of the team again, just like Kanan did.

She hoped.

What he said made sense though; she could understand him wanting a break. She could understand him not wanting to spend every waking moment between now and the day his eyes completely failed him thinking about and practicing for the future. Even though the more time he spent doing exactly that, the faster things would be able to go back to normal.

Some semblance of normal, anyway.

She nodded, then tried to make her question clearer. “So, what’s it going to be; duty roster or real job?”

Ezra shook his head. “Still trying to decide. I guess you’re right though; if I want to not be bored, I’d be better off doing something not boring. So if you have any suggestions, let me know.”

She considered it, but nothing sprung instantly to mind. It wasn’t just trying to think of something that Ezra would want to do, but something that he would still be able to do without his sight. She couldn’t think of anything. It didn’t help that she had no idea what he would be capable of then.

“Yeah, exactly,” Ezra said in response to her silence.

She swallowed. She wanted to help, if only because he had come to her, but she wasn't sure why he had picked her when there were people better qualified to advise him. “I’m not the best person to ask about this. Kanan will have a better idea of what you’ll be able to do. And if it was Hera’s idea, she probably has something in mind that you could do.”

“I know,” Ezra told her. “I’m supposed to talk to both of them tomorrow, and Hera already said they’d help if I couldn't think of anything.”

“Then why…”

“But what if she suggests something I don’t want to do?”

Sabine frowned. “You say no,” she told him.”

“Well, yeah. But I have to do something, so if I’m going to say no to a suggestion, it’d be better to have another one instead.”

He didn’t really ‘have to’ do anything. Not if this whole thing had been his idea. But he was right, if he wanted something to do, turning down suggestions without any alternative probably wasn’t the best plan. “Okay,” she said. “So let’s think it over. What do you like doing?”

“Getting one over on the Empire,” Ezra said. “Undercover work. Piloting…”

Not exactly helpful, and Ezra knew it. “Anything else?”

“I don’t know, Sabine. I’ve never done anything else. Back on Lothal all I did was try to survive, and if I could hurt the Empire a little bit while I did it, great, even better. Then I met you guys, and we’re all still trying to survive, only there’s so much more at stake now than my own life. Other than that, the only difference between then and now is I know how to use the Force now. I don’t know what else I like doing.”

She stared at him. She could understand his point, but he was wrong. He had done more than simply fight the Empire and learn about the Force since joining up with the Ghost crew. “You like the dokma races,” she said.

“Uh,” Ezra frowned at her. “So you think I should become a professional gambler? I dunno, I’m pretty terrible at it. And all we do is gamble for ration bars and helmets anyway, so I couldn’t exactly make a career out of it.”

As much as she loved Ezra, there were times that she wanted to slap him. “Funny. Okay, yeah, that wasn’t the best example, but my point is that you have done other things. Think of some of them.”

Ezra rested his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands. “He smirked. “You know, the whole point of asking you was so I didn’t have to think of something for myself.”

“Yeah, and you were so subtle with your whole ‘let’s pretend’ scenario. However did I figure it out?” She threw in an exaggerated eye roll to make sure he picked up on the sarcasm, and he grinned but at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “There must be something you’ve done before that you enjoy.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know about ‘enjoy’, but like I said to Hobbie, I’m pretty good at pickpocketing and lock picking. Can’t think of any use for it around here though.”

Neither could Sabine, pickpocketing was definitely something he should be able to do without looking. She was no expert, but she knew that one of the tricks of that particular trade was misdirection, and that didn’t work if you were staring at your victim’s pocket while you stole his wallet. If Ezra already had that skill, maybe there were other ways to use it that might help him in other jobs.

She smiled, “You know, pickpocketing might not be much use, but lock picking might come in handy. When someone gets locked out of their quarters you’d be able to help them get back in.”

“Great. That’s something I could do maybe once a year.”

“I think you’re underestimating the ability of drunken idiots to forget their access codes after a night at the races,” Sabine told him. “It happens at least once a month. Probably more.”

“Still not exactly a stable career choice.”

True. But he wasn’t looking for a career, just something he could do until he was approved for duty again. She hadn’t really been serious anyway, although there had been a few times she had heard of people forgetting passcodes and finding themselves locked out of their room.

“What kind of locks can you pick? Digital, or ones with a key?”

He shrugged. “Both, I guess. Why?”

“Because you’d have to pick a key lock by touch, you can’t see inside the keyhole. I’m just thinking that’s a skill you might be able to use elsewhere. Digital locks are about bypassing the lock, you use the wiring, right?”

“Sometimes.”

“So that’s a transferable skill too. If you know how to short circuit a lock, maybe you’d be good at fixing them too.”

Ezra frowned. “Fixing locks? A bit specific, isn’t it?”

She shook her head. “Not just locks; fixing stuff. You know, maintenance. I mean, you’d need some training, but you know a lot of it already, we all did a bit on the Ghost. You could probably decide if you wanted to concentrate on what you already know or learn more, and it’ll be different things every day, so it won’t get boring. Plus if you do pick up more skills, it’ll be useful on the Ghost in the future.”

He appeared to mull it over, his expression thoughtful. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’d be fine for now, but not when my sight gets worse.”

“How do you know?” Sabine asked him. “Have you ever tried to repair something without looking?”

“Uh, no. Of course not.”

Sabine grinned triumphantly. “Well then, how do you know you can’t do it?”

Ezra stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “Because it’s obvious.”

“If you say so.” In fairness, she hadn’t tried it either, but depending on what she was repairing, she figured she might have a chance. “So what if we were in space, on the Ghost, and the lights went out. How would we repair that?”

Ezra appeared to consider it for a moment, then shook his head. “Nice try. We’d just get a flashlight.”

That was true. “Okay, what if all the flashlights had stopped working too? Chopper’s light included, before you say that.”

Ezra stared at her in confusion for a moment, then shook his head. “Why would all the flashlights stop working?”

“I dunno, same reason the lights did. What would you do then?”

He shook his head. “This is never going to happen.”

“It’s more likely than your weapons scenario,” Sabine told him.

Ezra shrugged. “Okay, that’s fair, but…”

“Think about it,” she interrupted. “What would you do?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I’d try to figure it out, but I have no idea how. Even working out what’s wrong would be difficult, and I’m pretty sure one wire feels the same as another. Also, I’m no expert, but even I know it’s not a great idea to stick your fingers into faulty wiring without looking.”

“Fine. So maybe it’s nothing to do with the wiring. But whatever it is, I bet we could come up with some way around it.”

Maybe they could use the tactile alphabet. They could label things before he needed them, then when he did need them, he would be able to identify them. But that would require him to learn the tactile alphabet, and she didn’t want to push, not if he wasn’t ready. She was still convinced that he would see the benefit one day, but today was not going to be that day.

Ezra shrugged again, looking unconvinced. “Yeah, I guess we could.”

He wasn’t going to do it. She understood why. He was right, maintenance would be fine for now, but difficult later. And in her ‘lights going out’ scenario, there would come a time when he wouldn’t even be able to tell whether his repairs had been successful. That thought provoked a deep sorrow in her and she tried to push it out of her mind.

“Sabine?” She noticed that Ezra was looking at her, his eyes full of concern. Either the emotion she was feeling was written plainly on her face, or he was picking up on it through the Force. Suddenly she felt very exposed.

She shook her head quickly. He was going to be fine. Whatever job he ended up choosing, he wouldn't be doing it for very long, because he was going to be back on active duty before he knew it. She had watched him pick up everything Kanan had taught him so far. There was no reason for this to be any different. Right? “Okay, not maintenance,” she agreed.

Ezra shrugged. “It’s not a bad idea, he said. “It’s just, I need something more simple. Maintenance can be fiddly, so can mechanics. And yeah, maybe I could learn how to differentiate things by touch, but what if I couldn’t? Or if I made a mistake, and instead of fixing something I made it worse? We’re in a war. I mean, reliable equipment is kinda important.”

“So you want to do maintenance with big objects instead of fiddly wires?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”

It could be a thing. There was no reason he couldn’t be given certain kinds of maintenance jobs, but he probably didn’t want special treatment. Although, there were specialists within every department, so there was no reason why being given specific types of jobs would be a bad thing.

She decided not to mention it. Not yet. Later, if he was still struggling for ideas, she could bring it up again. “You could help out with construction,” she suggested instead. “We’re building a new barracks at the north side of the base, I bet the team could use the help. You wouldn’t have to worry about the long-term since it’s only one project.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. Not like he was thinking about it, more like he was trying to find fault with it. There were certainly faults to find. It wasn’t exactly what he was looking for, but then as far as Sabine could tell, he didn’t know what he was looking for.

“That might actually work,” he said after a few moments. He hesitated. “I mean, the Force is great for heavy lifting.”

That was another point, one that she hadn’t considered. Ezra would have an advantage that would make him a sought-after member of the team.

“As long as Hera doesn’t mind that it’s temporary, that is,” he added.

The way he had told it, this whole thing had been his idea, so Sabine couldn’t imagine why she would mind. She shrugged. “It’s still something you’d be able to do in the future,” she said. Just because it’s only one project now doesn’t mean there won’t be something else to build in a few months time. If you still need another job by then, that is.”

“Yeah,” Ezra said. He nodded, appearing more enthusiastic about the idea now. “Yeah, that’s true…” he smiled. “Hey, if nothing else, it’s something I can suggest instead when Hera tries to convince me it’s a great idea to work doing inventory for AP-5.”

“Why would she…” Sabine shook her head. It was probably a joke. That was the last thing he would be able to do when he couldn’t see. Making lists of inventory, reading, writing, checking things off. She wasn’t even sure Ezra would be able to do it now. “Yeah,” she said. “True.”

Ezra got to his feet. “I gotta go, I was supposed to meet Kanan for a lesson about five minutes ago. I’ll let you get on with your painting.” He headed for the door, stopped, then turned back to face her. “Thanks, Sabine,” he said. “Really.”

She shrugged, she wasn’t sure whether she had actually been of any help, but at least she would be able to keep thinking of suggestions for him. “Any time,” she told him.

Ezra opened the door and sped out into the hall. The sound of his running footsteps echoed through.

Sabine sighed, got up, and reached for her spray paint.

[callie-the-snarky-geek-blog]

RvB16 Episode 1 Review: The Shisno

(Old Blog Repost)

Season 15, to put it lightly, has had mixed reception. Some liked it, some didn’t. Some like parts of it, others like different parts. Regardless of where you stand, I think we can all agree that it wasn’t a perfect season. Personally I enjoyed it, but I was also a newcomer to RvB so… you know, I’m biased. Regardless, Joe did well enough to be given the reigns once again and it looks like he has some MASSIVE plans.

So finally, here we are with the sixteenth season. With only one episode, it’s still too early to determine if this season will be an improvement or a disappointment. But the first episode is supposed to draw us in. Did it succeed in doing so? Lets find out.

Overview

The introduction is… weird. We saw the medieval scene on Twitter.. well the first few seconds anyways. It being a medieval version of the famous ‘ever wonder hwy we’re here’ scene can’t be for no reason. I guess it MAY be a hint at the time travel aspect coming up, but for now it’s just baffling. What is even mroe baffling is the vortex and the voice following it. We now know that the voice belongs to a being named Muggins as he speaks of things being provoked by humble actions and briefly going over the end of S15. Some kind of prophecy has been triggered due to the time drill thing and even with it gone, it still fulfilled it’s purpose. Which leads us to…

Fighting over food! So first, Joe wasn’t kidding about this whole thing beginning as a quest for pizza. I need to rewatch that tease later to see what other hints are in it. But regardless, with the Blues and Reds defeated and Dylan offering to talk to the cops since they’re still wanted (and I imagine this leads to her and Jax’s final scene in S15), our guys have earned some R&R. It was honestly a nice welcome back to see them just bickering over something as ridiculous as where to go out to eat. It fits them so well and feels like a very nice welcome back after all the insanity last season. Things are slowly tingeing back to normal… at first.

Simmons notices that Donut is missing, so Grif sends Caboose to go find him. Honestly the fact that SOMEONE realized that Donut wasn’t there is a sign of improvement since it’s always kind of been a running joke that no one. Sure, sending Caboose probably wasn’t THE best idea, but it’s a sign of improvement! Then we get the… body horror scene… dear God that looked painful. It was still funny due to how oblivious to it Caboose was, but still… MAN. It wouldn’t have been as bad if it weren’t for Donut’s screams of pain. Man, Dan Godwin nailed it… and I imagine that had to HURT so kudos! So yeah… Donut vanishes to I assume the same place the time drill went since they use the same sound effect. I guess Donut will then ascent not Godhood since he is beyond the plain of space and time now. We’ll see~

So Cabosoe comes back empty handed and at first everyone considers going to find him… except Grif. He wants to get the Hell off the island before the cops get there. We’ll talk more about this in a little while but man do I have thoughts! So the Reds and Blues all agree on pizza with Sister tagging along. Carolina and the lieutenants meanwhile head for Chorus, Carolina to go check on Wash and the lieutenants to get back to what Jensen calls ‘interesting things’. So I assume that we’ll get some kind of B Story involving Chorus hijinks. Maybe if we’re lucky, a certain green mercenary will show up… I can dream!

This is where things get interesting as we then see two tiny balls of light. Muggins, who we already heard, and a female-voice done named Huggins. He is apparently a rookie as Muggins sends her to keep watch over the Reds and Blues and to both not lose them and to not be spotted. He meanwhile shoots across space and we get a REALLY cool intro sequence showing all the cast and the main crew members… though they forgot Geoff’s name for some reason (the Youtube version has it, so I assume it’s an error). Oops. They also don’t have Becca listed, though Sister isn’t technically a main character so I guess that’s why. Maybe in the future. But it’s really cool and the alien-esque soundtracks sounds so perfect.

Muggins arrives at what we can assume is the villains lair. IDK if this is an original set piece designed by RT Animation or if it’s an actual Halo map. Either way, it looks awesome. Dark, with a lot of red and black, but epic in scale. A proper villain lair. We get a glimpse of a green-armored soldier with a British accent golfing… weird. Anyways, Muggins reports to their leader who we only see partially. They have black armor and while they only say one word, it’s a… pretty damn intimidating voice. Muggins informs the leader that the ‘pizza quest’ has begun and therefore triggered the last part of the prophecy, ending the episode.

Review

While the episode is only nine minutes long, BOY HOWDY did it leave PLENTY to talk about. I guess we’ll start with Donut though. I have no idea what the Fuck just happened. It’s clear that the blast from the drill caused… whatever the Hell happened and we can assume form the earlier narration, that this was meant to happen. So this is definitely going to be important. Going off the promo material, where Donut’s in a kind of meditative pose, it seems like he’s going to become a God-like figure. My guess is that he now exists outside the realm of space and time, which is where I believe the drill now is. What will this do to Donut? I have no idea, but this is definitely going it be a lingering plot thread. And hey, Donut deserves the focus.

Something I also liked is how the Reds and Blues DID notice that he was missing. Look, they do not have a good track record of remembering either Donut or Doc. So the fact that Simmons relied it is a massive improvement. And I do like how after Caboose said that he was gone, Sarge and Tucker DID want to loo for him and not leave him behind. Grif convinces them not to, but still it is a HUGE sign of improvement compared to normal. And while they DID ultimately leave, I think it’s good that they at least recognized that Donut was gone and considered looking for him. It’s a good sign that they are growing.

Next lets talk about Carolina and Wash. So it looks like, at least for now, they won’t be in on the main plot. I assume that they’ll be given a B Plot revolving around Chorus, considering Jensen’s line about the going-ons there, but it’s too soon to tell. But yeah Carolina and Wash will likely be on the sidelines at least for now. Honestly… I an good with this! I love them both, don’t get me wrong. But lets face it, both have had a LOT of focus and attention ever since their respective introductions. Freelancer has been running the series for a long time now, and for good reason. But I really want to see the Reds and Blues on their own for once. S15 showed that, when they get their act together, they can operate and be formidable on their own with minimal Freelancer help. I want to see them have to deal with a massive situation without just having Wash or Carolina deal with it for them. I did like that Tucker plans to get Wash his own pizza though, just showing how much he cares for his teammate. You’ve grown up Tucker!

The biggest thing I want to talk about before we get to the villains though is Grif. Because his lines here are… interesting. It is clear that he wants to avoid any adventure, insanity, and dramatics as much as possible. When Jensen starts talking about Chorus, he says he wants to avoid the subject before trying to take it back. Then there’s the entire pizza quest thing. He doesn’t want to call it a quest. He doesn’t want to look for Donut because it would mean staying around and having to talk to cops. He calls out the others on how everything always has to be treated like a major production. He outright tells Sister that they’re not getting into anything crazy when she is clearly enthused about the idea. Now this could just be because he’s ‘hangry’ and also doesn’t want to chance getting arrested, but… IDK. To me, adding in the ‘new science’ line, it all paints a very clear picture: Grif wants things to go back to normal, just like he did last season… and it makes sense.

Some may say ‘wait, shouldn’t he be over this after last season?’. No. No he should not. Last season had Grif regret quitting because he didn’t like being alone and in the end, he DOES care about the others. And yes, he did willingly get into the thick of things when he joined back up. But here’s the thing, he did so because the others were in trouble and they needed him. But now that trouble is over.  Now there is a chance for him to FINALLY go back to a level of normalcy with the others again. It’s why he’s trying so hard to avoid talking about serious matters or refusing Sister and Caboose’s replies about ‘adventures’ and ‘quests’. He never got over wanting to be done with that. We never had any kind of scene where he comes to terms with the insanity that is his life, only of him having regret abandoning the others. So it makes sense that this is still a thing with him like it was last year. The only difference is this time, instead of quitting, it seems like he’s going to try to actively attempt to keep them out of any insanity. Will this go anywhere? We’ll have to see. But since the promo art just has him facepalming, I think this may be his character arc for the season. And since Grif is my favorite character and I loved his development last season, I am all for it!

That leads us to our ‘villains’. And I say that lightly because while they ARE clearly the antagonists, I… can’t really tell if they’ve evil. Going off Mugigns’ narration and report to the leader, it sounds like they are trying to prevent some kind of horrible catastrophe that the Reds and Blues unknowingly started. As for WHAT they are… well they aren’t human, at least not fully. It’s way too soon and we still know way too little. But I am going to assume that they are aliens and some kind of high cosmic order. One that makes the head of it essentially a God. Heck the names Huggins and Muggins seem to be based off Huginn and Muginn, ravens who act as the eyes and ears to Odin in Norse mythology. Going off that… yeah, we’re going full Thor here apparently.

The leader we can assume is the equivalent of Odin, the king God in Norse mythology. IDK if we’ll get a Thor and Loki equivalent…. unless the green guy is meant to be one or the other. But yeah, this means that this guy is scary news. It’s too soon to say who he may be, though I saw one person speculate that it may be Donut. And with the time travel stuff, it IS possible. But again, too soon to say. Though if not I guess that Donut becoming a God will be the key to beating this guy. Either way, the goal is unclear other than that a prophecy has been provoked. Whether they’re going to try to stop it form coming to pass, or make sure it comes to pass is unclear. We also don’t know what the prophecy is other than that the time drill’s activation was the first sign and the pizza quest was the point of no return.

So here is my current theory. As I said, I don’t think that the ‘villains’ are actual villains. Or at least they aren’t evil psychos like Felix or a well-intentioned extremist gone mad like Temple. I think that this ‘prophecy’ is going to make them see the Reds and Blues as the villains. So they are going to attempt to wipe them out in order to prevent the prophecy from being fulfilled. It makes them the antagonists by default. How that will cause time travel to factor in unless an attempt to kill them goes horribly wrong IDK. Still, that’s my current stance. Will it get cleared up? Probably and it’ll lead to the true villain showing up. Bu it’s still WAAAAY too soon to say, but going off Muggins’ worry it doesn’t feel like he and Huggins at least aren’t antagonistic. But we’ll see as things unfold.

All of this of course leaves a LOT of questions. What is the prophecy exactly? What is the catastrophe? How does time travel equate into it? How does the medieval scene fit into it? Is this based on any of the alien stuff we’ve had in the past? Is it something completely different? How does Donut’s current situation equate into this? What kind of aliens/interdimensional beings are these guys? Who is the golfing guy? Who is that four armed guy that we saw in the trailer? Is he with these guys? Or is he a different antagonist? Is he an antagonist at all? How do the Reds and Blues end up caught up in it? Are we going to learn the definition of shisno? There’s a lot of questions man! And that’s okay, it’s the first episode, we’re supposed to be asking questions. Gotta give Joe this, he left us with plenty to think about.

So the way that things currently stand is the Reds and Blues are going for pizza (and I assume that the ship crashes since we see them in a forest area in the trailer), Carolina is heading for Chorus, and the villains are beginning their own plans. What’s going to happen next? I honestly have no clue. I assume that we’ll be following the Reds and Blues still next episode and maybe they’ll discover Huggins, but I honestly don’t know. Way to keep us hanging Joe.

Final Thoughts

This is how you do a premiere! The episode leaves a LOT of questions, but plenty of laughs in classic RvB fashion as well. It uses it’s time effectively and while it was only nine minutes long, it sure didn’t feel that short. The scenes all serve as a nice welcome back, opens up new possibilities, and sets up things for our heroes nicely. Sure the medieval scene is kind of out of place, but normally in animation a scene like that is there for a reason, so we’ll see later. But the machinima and original animation were solid, the acting was good as always, the humor and banter were on point, and we have plenty of mystery to look forward to down the road. It also sets up potential character development for Donut and Grif, which is very much appreciated. It was very well done and I am absolutely craving for more! Great episode!

[will-you-be-my-savior]

Showcase.

Tord was beginning to regret giving Tom and Matt as much power over the army as he had. Before they were in power he was the only one who could call a six o'clock assembly. What made it worse was that Tord had no clue what this was going to be about or why Tom had called it. He had made his way to the cafeteria at five thirty where there was a temporary stage set up as well as more than enough rows of chairs for all the soldiers currently on base.

“About time you got here.” he focused on the man. Tom must be really excited about this to be bouncing around as much as he was. “Now go get changed.” he shoved some kind of skin tight suit into Tord’s arms and pushed him in the direction of the nearest restroom.

“Designation Null, what is going on?” he asked.

“Go change and you’ll see.” Tord could tell Tom was too high energy to reason with right now so he just went to do as he was told. Unfortunately, on his way to the restrooms he managed to bump into a Kaptein while he tried to figure out what this whole event was about, nearly toppling both of them.

“Oh I’m so sorry sir!” the tall woman cried out.

“It’s fine Kaptein…”

“Green sir! Kaptein Bethanie Green sir!” she saluted at him. She looked nervous and somewhat upset.

“May I ask what’s the matter Ms. Green?” he tried to sound approachable. At first she seemed hesitant to reply but eventually she got over that.

“One of the more… narrow minded Major decided to call me a “gimp” and cracked my good prosthetic sir. I had to go back to my quarters to go get another one and the only one I could find doesn’t exactly fit the best sir.” Tord looked her over trying to figure out which limb had been amputated. He didn’t have to look for long, it was quite obvious that when she had said it was ill-fitting she wasn’t just imagining it, her entire body was slightly tilted to the side, her right leg obviously longer then her left.

“And what would this Major’s name be?” she looked surprised.

“Major Alder sir.” oh that man was going to get a swift kick in the ass.

“Come to my office later Kaptein, I want to look at this busted leg of yours. For now just get to the assembly.” he walked around her and continued on his path to the restroom to change.

“Of course sir!” she seemed worried but did as she was told, quickly limping to the cafeteria.

It was only three minutes til the assembly was supposed to start when Tord made it back to the stage.

“Finally! I was wondering when you’d get here!” Tom pulled him onto the stage, sitting him on a stool that had been placed in the center while he was gone. Next to him was a small table covered in tools and a box with who knows what inside.

“What is all this about blue?”

“You still curious about my project?” Tom most certainly knew how to get to him.

“Of course I am. Does this whole spectacle have something to do with it?” he just nodded back before stepping up to the podium.

“Your attention please.” they all stood at attention. “That’s not what i meant but oh well. At ease. Take your seats please.” they followed the command. “Now. there are many reasons you are all here right now.” he looked out at the crowd. “One of which has been the consistent doubt some of you have in the red leader’s ability to actually lead you.” that was news to Tord, as well as most of the soldiers. “Another being some of your confusion on what it is I actually do here.” that Tord was aware of, as Tom rarely interacted with anyone outside of the labs.

“Today we will be addressing both of those concerns.” Tom pulls a large curved piece of metal out of the box at his side. He pulled out another piece then another, occasionally using a tool to fasten them together, but most of the time just sliding them into place. By the end he had constructed some kind of modern art piece. After he was finished with that he got to work on Tord’s arm, slowly removing it piece by piece.

When only the mechanisms at the base remained Tom pulled out a new, fully built prosthetic and slowly began working on attaching it to his stub. He could feel each new “nerve” connecting in the most painless procedure yet. When Tom finally finished he pulled Tord to his feet and pulled his hand onto the strange structure.

Tord felt a place he was obviously meant to grip and did so, startled when the whole structure began to move and twist around him. He trusted Tom but this was kinda freaking him out. He stood as still as he could, only moving where the machine directed him until finally it stopped moving. He looked down at himself and was amazed at the full blown suit of armor that covered his body. He felt Tom walk up behind him and gently place something over his head.

Suddenly a display lit up in front of him, containing statistics, such as his heart rate and blood pressure, others offering up commands or instructions. One stood out though. The one labeled “jet-pack.” he was most certainly using that one first.

“As you can see, red leader is now almost completely invulnerable.” Tom pointed a gun at him and he didn’t even flinch when he fired. “He is also much more capable in any sort of combat situation.” he pressed down on Tord’s robotic arm causing a combat knife eject from the wrist where Tord quickly grabbed it, twirling it a few times before letting it slide back it. “It also enhances his physical and sensory abilities.” even Tord was impressed with all this. “And with all that you should all be very aware of what I do here now.”

Tord was impressed, he knew Tom was making something amazing but he didn’t know it would be this cool. Tom wound down the assembly and told everyone to return to their posts before facing Tord again.

“So what do you think?” he almost sounded shy.

“This is amazing! I can’t wait to test everything out.”

Tom’s smile just then was worth all the waiting.

[aros001]

Read through light novel vol. 4. Random thoughts.

I don't think I've ever seen an adaptation/source material relationship quite like that between Goblin Slayer's anime and light novels.

Episodes 1-4: most of vol. 1. Episode 5: mix of vol. 1 and beginning of vol. 4. Episodes 6-9: Entirety of vol. 2. Episodes 10-12: Rest of vol. 1. It certainly wasn't a bad season but it's funny to see the books adapted in such an almost random order. Closest I've ever had to this was Rising of the Shield Hero, which adapted vols. 1-5, the beginning of 6, and then at the end a little bit from vol. 10.

“There are people who use a torch instead of a lantern, because it doubles as a weapon.”

Guild Girl mentioned with a smile that rats and insects both despised fire.

“What kind of adventurer would do something like that?”

Goblin Slayer: "You've got something on your face."

Goblin: "GORB?"

[Stabs goblin in face with burning torch]

Goblin Slayer: "It was pain!"

That second chapter really suckered me in at first into thinking it was a flashback, but I suppose that was the idea. It's like when Batman saves a family from an alley mugging. It's a classic way of showing the hero keeping what happened to them from happening to anyone else. Goblin Slayer is making a difference, even if he doesn't always feel like he is because of how endless the world's number of goblins seems to be.

As much as Spearman could stand to take the hint that Guild Girl is not into him, I do really like that Spearman isn't at all a bad dude. Again, he has a spear but he's not a Motoyasu. He's not hitting on every attractive woman he meets or treating his party as an excuse to build a harem for himself. Witch feels like his trusted ally and equal before anything else, not just someone he's trying to impress because she's got big bizongas. Admittedly I'm not entirely sure what his relationship with her is. The implication is that she maybe likes him romantically (seeing Guild Girl as a romantic rival and all) and they talk about going on "dates" but it's hard to tell how serious either is being about that.

The chapter with the goblin sentry guard was kind of interesting for me, because part of the way into reading it I realized I had read it before...the manga version. I'm stumbled upon the chapter by accident through a Pintrest link of one of the pages where Goblin Slayer is carrying poor spear girl (Spearwoman?) out of the cave. At the time I'd thought it was a fan-comic, not because it was badly drawn but because the goblins had a different design. Between that and this chapter, I think the manga's was harder to get through, but for a different reason than the anime could be. The anime had audio, so the screams from Fighter and Priestess when the champion bit her arm were what left me really shaken up (Fighter especially because, while I wasn't seeing it, I knew what was happening). With the manga, how much of Spearwoman's body was shown off, the positions she was in, and the angles of the camera made it feel uncomfortably like a porn comic. I don't have a problem with fanservice in and of itself. This volume and previous ones have plenty of fanservicey artwork. But there's a time and a place for it. Cow Girl and Priestess trying on battle bikinis and High Elf Archer waking up in the nude? It's pervy but still harmless. A woman being violently raped should not be used to titillate the audience and I'm so glad the light novels have had the good taste (so far) to not do anything like that with its illustrations. Even High Elf Archer, when her clothes were torn away by the goblins in Water Town, she escapes non-violated and we get the art of her helping Goblin Slayer walk, but she's not drawn at all in a sexual way despite being half-naked.

But back to the actual volume, I really liked showing things from the goblin guard's perspective. The goblin happy with the spear he stole...at first. But then wondering if the belt would have been better and then hating the goblin who got the belt instead of his "stupid" spear, with said goblin likely thinking the same about him, just the other way around. Again, they're not mindless monsters. They're incredibly selfish and self-centered, each one believing he is the best and thus that he is the one entitled to everything. It also serves as another reminder that goblins are no victim of racial circumstances. Yes, there are no females of their race and thus they have to force themselves on others in order to procreate...but they seem like they would probably be doing that regardless. When their victim fights back, they hurt her more as punishment and to break her. And when their victim doesn't fight back, allowing themselves to be violated so that hopefully it won't hurt anymore (yeah, there's a lot in this chapter that's hard to get through but that especially with how unfortunately real that mentality feels), the goblins hurt them even more, taking it as an excuse to go as far as they can with them.

These aren't mindless monsters that have to rape to survive. They like the pain and suffering they cause others.

Which is where he comes in; to stab them, impale them, light them on fire, and kick them in the d*ck before stabbing them again.

Hm? Cow Girl thought suspiciously, but an explanation was soon forthcoming.

“Today is...a bit of a rough day for it...”

“Sure.” Cow Girl gave a strained smile and nodded. It was something every woman had to deal with.

You know...I've read through three other fantasy LN series in full thus far. Overlord, Konosuba, and Rising of the Shield. And I'm pretty sure out of all of them (and even out of the majority of other series I've read/watched), Goblin Slayer is the only one I've seen that even acknowledges girls having their periods. I get that it's like watching a character go to the bathroom; it's not usually relevant to the story and you can just assume it's happening off-screen. But it still just sat with me for a moment and I went "...Huh. Yeah, that would be a problem for them, wouldn't it?"

Also, these two are just adorable together. I like that they're friends. They don't pass the Bechdel test (though High Elf Archer and Guild Girl surprisingly do) but their bonding was still great to read.

“I have no interest in magical swords, but I do have a ring.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It allows underwater breathing,” Goblin Slayer said briefly. “Even if the goblins stole it, it would do no harm.”

“What would they even want it for? Wait a second—you just assume it’ll get stolen?”

Spearman was pressing on his temples, but the steel helmet nodded and said, “Of course. It wouldn’t fit on a goblin finger.”

After Cow Girl and Priestess trying on the battle bikinis I was already laughing at the idea of a Goblin Slayer beach episode. Now I really want to see that. Everyone's on the beach showing off their summer bodies and swimwear while he's still in his full armor. They're all playing volleyball and building sandcastles and he's slowly turning the ocean red as he's just murdering goblin sharks all day.

All seriousness through, I do love this consistency with Goblin Slayer's character and methods. We've seen tons of goblins throughout this story and the only ones that maybe would have benefited from underwater breathing would have been the ones on the boats in the sewers of Water Town. Otherwise, yeah, it'd be useless to a basic nest and they'd have almost no way of finding out what it can even do, so they wouldn't even move elsewhere to take advantage of such magic. Plus he has apparently destroyed nests by flooding them before, so it makes sense he'd want to prepare himself for just in case he ever got caught up in the water.

Also, Goblin Slayer, Heavy Warrior, and Spearman were a really fun team to see work together. I love the sense of respect the three share and that Goblin Slayer never has any problem acknowledging how much better they are than him when it comes to things like leadership, charisma, enthusiasm, or just certain general abilities. If there is a little bit of competitiveness it's still very friendly and never becomes a pissing contest between the three. Heavy Warrior and Spearman don't exist just to make Goblin Slayer look good by comparison. In fact, they're very good at what they do. It's just what they do isn't murdering the ever-loving sh*t out of goblins, thus why they're not the ones we're following the story through.

“I picked up the spear,” he said. “The shaft is broken, but the point remains.”

"You are hurt and broken right now. But you can recover. You can be okay again."

This is probably just me looking way too deep into things but I like to believe Goblin Slayer said those words because of his party's, and especially Priestess', influence on him. I'm sure he's saved many women from goblins in the past but before Priestess I think he just saved their lives, sent them off to the temple, and then just kept moving on without looking back, thinking about nothing other than killing more goblins. After all his and Priestess' time together, and her making it clear he played no small part in helping her keep moving after the tragedy of her first party, maybe he's now wondering if there's more he can do to help these women recover, even if it's just a few kind words to help them hold onto their sanity after what they've been through. Spearwoman was so attached to that spear that hearing that it's still intact enough to be fixed maybe helped her believe she could be too.

“Isn’t it?” She stuck out her delightfully average chest, as proud as if she had grown it herself. “And you know what? The person who brought it was someone you saved recently.”

“...Was it, now?”

“Uh-huh!” Guild Girl let her eyes drift to the corn with an expression that bespoke relief. It was rare that adventurers or mercenaries found themselves with a second chance when they had failed once. “It’s great, huh?”

Does that imply it was Spearwoman? I'm hoping so. It'd be nice if someone who was used by the goblins (hopefully NEVER one of the girls in the main cast) did still manage to go back to being an adventurer again and wasn't just left permanently defeated. Honestly, it'd be cool if either her or Fighter or someone like I'm describing came back and adventured with GS's crew for a bit. Goblin Slayer witnessed what they do and it almost happened to Priestess and High Elf Archer but we don't have anyone yet who was raped by the goblins and yet is still fighting. Sword Maiden is about the closest but her very understandable trauma and duties as the Sword Maiden keep her away.

God count: Earth Mother, Supreme God, Deity of the Basin, Krome

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/GoblinSlayer/comments/fu0b1w/read_through_light_novel_vol_4_random_thoughts/

[rogerblackwolf]

The Last Dragon

Estate of Elder Barnabus Jaeger

Bures, Suffolk, England

-2010-

The car ride was mostly silent as the family of three drove through the countryside. The father, a well-dressed man in his mid to late thirties with neatly combed dark hair and a trimmed beard, was driving while also following the directions on his smartphone. His wife, a beautiful woman equal to him in age dressed in a black dress and blazer, was simply taking in the countryside and occasionally checking on their son, a teen dressed similar to his father listening to his iPod. She had wondered where the years had gone, especially since they had just left a funeral. The service was for her husband’s father, a World War II veteran as well as former member of the SAS, Barnabus Jaeger, or “Barnie” as he was called by his mates and family. 

Barnabus loved his family as well, he always had something good to say and rarely raised his voice, and to his only grandson Henry he was a constant inspiration. Other than Barnabus’ military service, the wife knew that after the war he married young and went to college to study finance. He then went on to work for a successful corporation, which he later became CEO of, that helped him take care of his family, his wife Emily passed away only four years prior but Barnabus still managed his company. Sadly he took a turn health wise, he was mostly healthy but the loss of his wife took its toll. The wife took solace in knowing at least he would be reunited with his wife, hopefully filling the hole her loss left in his heart.

The car turned down a one way road and immediately into a driveway, they stopped in the driveway in front of a small mansion. It was only two stories tall, but the interior made it feel much larger, there were ten bedrooms, five baths, several offices, an attic, and a basement. The design was Victorian, which made it seem old but it was surprisingly well maintained, Barnabus did like making things last. As the family slowly drove, they noticed another car had already parked. 

“I reckon that’s the attorney.” The husband said, parking next to the black sedan.

“I reckon so. Henry, we’re here.” The wife added, before tapping her son on the knee.

The boy took out his earbuds then looked at his mother and father, they both managed to smile despite the reasons being at his grandfather’s home. 

“This won’t take long, promise.” The father said, patting his son’s head.

“You alright?” The mother asked her son.

The son only nodded, not feeling up to talk at the moment.

The family then got out of their sedan, stretching for a moment before walking to the front door, which opened suddenly, allowing them to be greeted by a familiar face. Before them stood a short but stout woman dressed in a Victorian style maid uniform, her auburn hair done up in a bun, and though she was mature in age she had a youthful attitude. Her freckled cheeks plumped up as she smiled warmly, doing a curtsy as she welcomed the family;

“Master Benjamin, Mistress Eveline, and young Master Henry, Welcome.”

“Hello Annette.” The parents said in unison, both sharing a chuckle how synchronized it was.

“Hi Annette.” Henry added, smirking for a moment before his frown returned.

Annette let the family in and took their coats before quickly returning.

“It’s good to see you again Annette, I wish it wasn’t on such terrible timing.” Eveline said.

“Oh think nothing of it, Master Barnabus was not one to be sad in such times. He always believed when he passed that we remember his life and not mourn his passing. If it’s not too bold of me to say.” Annette said.

“It’s alright, but I’m afraid we are also here on business. I assume the lawyer is here?” Benjamin asked Annette.

“Oh yes, they’re waiting in the office, right this way.” Annette answered, guiding them down the halls to a set of double doors, inside the sprawling office were three individuals, two men and one woman, the woman was the oldest of the trio in her mid forties while the two men seemed in their early twenties. The woman was holding a briefcase as the parents turned to Annette.

“Annette, why don’t you take Henry somewhere quiet, we shouldn’t be long.” Benjamin said.

“Be good Henry, listen to Annette.” Eveline said to Henry before he nodded and smiled warmly.

“Come along young Master, I’ll fix you something to turn that frown upside down.” Annette said with a smile. She then took Henry’s hand and led him away from the room. Benjamin and Eveline shook the woman’s hand before taking their seats as did the woman, the two men standing behind her on both sides.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger, my name is Bella Haleigh. I am the attorney provided by your father’s company and the Executor of his Will and Estate.” She spoke.

“Pleasure to meet you Ms. Haleigh.” Benjamin said.

“Yes, a pleasure.” Eveline replied.

“Before we start, let me just express my deepest condolences for your loss Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger.” Bella added.

“Thank you, Ms. Haleigh, it has been rough for all of us.” Benjamin said, with Eveline taking his hand in comfort.

“Your father was a great inspiration to us all. Forgive me for asking, but was that your son, Henry?” Bella asked.

“Yes, he was. I guess my father talked about him, huh?” Benjamin asked.

“Very fondly, he adored Henry. Forgive me for asking, but how old is he?” Bella asked.

“He just turned fifteen recently.” Eveline answered

“Oh fun age, your father had it in his mind that Henry would follow in his footsteps at the company.” Bella said.

“Well, he will make his decision in due time, then again he has it in his mind he wants to be an Art Curator.” Eveline added.

“Yes, we all have to make decisions in time, some tougher than others. I for one would be happy to have him in our company. The Financial district has very good benefits. But down to business I won't take too much of your time.” Bella said, opening her briefcase and retrieving the will.

As they tended to their business, Annette had treated Henry to some warm lavender tea, his favorite. It seemed to help for a time but Annette could sense he still had a dark cloud hanging over him. Suddenly Annette hatched an idea, she knew exactly what would cheer him up. 

"Young Master, why don't you go into your Grandfather's study while I see to my duties. I know your Grandfather left something in there for you." Annette said.

Henry smirked before walking through the halls passing portraits of medieval knights, suits of armor on stands with their swords and shields, the large portrait of his grandfather with the family, and the family flag of a red dragon holding a shield with its wings outstretched. Eventually Henry came to a room he remembered quite well, his grandfather’s study. The room was circular with several bookcases that went to the ceiling, on the far left side was a window that overlooked a pond in the garden where a gazebo was also set up. Henry walked over to the large desk where his grandfather would work and spend many nights in thought. He noticed a thick leather bound notebook on the desk with a note that said “for Henry” taped to its cover.

Henry gently removed the taped note and read it silently to himself;

“Dear Henry

Though my time in this world has come to an end, I have no regrets. My time was brief, and despite the horrors I have seen, my life was filled with so much wonder I can only thank God for how much I have been blessed. Especially for the joy you brought into my life. As a soldier I fought for my country and as a father I protected those who were dearest to me, my honor is assured.

This journal contains my memoirs and the truth of what I did, where I went, the things I encountered, and what I lost. Every word is true, no matter how fantastically absurd some of it may sound. As you grow older, I hope that you never lose your sense of wonder. Do not forget the things you enjoy and surround yourself with likeminded people, those people will always be your truest of friends. If I must have one regret, it is that I personally didn’t get to tell you of my adventures, I hope you can forgive me for that. 

Since it is Fate that we be separated on earth, I hope we’ll meet again in Heaven.

Remember me in your fondest memories.

Your Grandpa Barnie

Always.”

Henry sat in the chair as his hands trembled. A couple of his tears stained the bottom of the note so he sat it on the desk to avoid staining it more. After drying his face and calming himself he folded the note and placed it to the side before picking up the journal. It was an old leather bound style, the leather was aged and worn in some places, mostly around the edges. It smelled old as well, like aged ink and faint glue, and the binding was starting to come loose but it was still holding together. Taking a deep breath, he opened the journal.

The first page had a hand drawn portrait of a much younger Barnabus, Henry couldn’t help but see the similarities they shared. From the sparse stubble to the nose and even the curly hair, it all made him smile and even chuckle. The first few pages were of Barnabus’s being born in 1919, his childhood in post Great War Britain, his father was a veteran who struggled greatly until he was given the opportunity to work in construction. The next pages spoke of his family being German immigrants, which was the origin of their family name, “Jaeger’’ meaning “hunter”. Henry skipped ahead several pages, settling on the page that labeled his time in the army; at the start of World War II he readily joined the effort.

As he read further, Henry read a passage that was both disturbing and unbelievable;

“I was on night patrol with a couple of my mates along the coast just a couple hundred yards from our base camp, ours was one of many Anti-Aircraft Batteries along the coast to defend against bombing raids. We were part of a platoon, nearly fifty men, it had been quiet the previous couple nights so everyone was incredibly relaxed. We would regret not being prepared. The first time I heard it, I brushed it off as simply a gust of wind, a breeze from the ocean. The second time my squadmate, Joseph Makkey, turned to me and asked “you heard that, right?”, all three of us began looking to the sky. 

The moon was high but there was some overcast that obstructed any clear view. The sound was clearer now, a whoosh of wind followed by some kind of growl, but not the growl of an engine. No, this growl was too natural, no plane engine could imitate it. Suddenly the silence was broken by this haunting shouting voice, followed by several terrible roars. The world was ablaze as streams of fire rained onto our camp, the sounds of my comrades screaming filled the air as their bodies melted to ash, explosions of our ammunition and vehicles filled us with terror. 

Me and my squadmates ran to the camp, our training taking over, but before we could reach the outskirts, I saw them. Three large black shapes silhouetted against the moon as they got into formation to come around for another pass, I shouted to my mates as they reached the camp before me but it was too late as three pillars of flame descended from the sky. One moment my friends were in front of me, the next they were engulfed in flame, somehow I got a clear look as these creatures flew overhead. Each one was at little over thirty feet long with a wingspan of comparable length, scaled bodies, leathery wings like a demon, and from their mouths came fire. On their backs were men shouting and whooping in celebration as they saw their handiwork, the one leading them shouted something, and as quickly as they appeared they were gone.

As the fires died and morning came I silently sat surrounded by the ashes of my platoon, some of the bodies were barely even skeletons. At my feet was Joseph Makkey, his face was coated in ash, his torso was scorched of all flesh, and nothing but brittle blackened bones below his waist. His uniform had melted to his body, almost replacing his skin but what I will forever remember is the look in his eyes. How scared they looked, how much pain he was in, the raw agony of the fire. For so long I cursed God for leaving just me, why was I allowed to live and not more? Out of the fifty men in my camp, Why was I the only one who survived? They stayed forever young, and here I am still…”

Henry was a mix of sad and disbelief at how horrible his grandfather really felt, that under that chipper and loving exterior was a man who had been through Hell itself. Henry read the journal more, finding out that after the incident, which was labeled a surprise bombing, Barnabus was approached by a man who claimed to be part of the SAS. What stood out though was how knowledgeable this man was about the creatures that Barnabus saw, describing them as “Firedrakes”. He went into greater detail about them, adding that they were being used by the Germans as part of their Blitzkrieg, but also told Barnabus that the information would not be free. The other pages read about how Barnabus joined the man in a secret organization called The Order, the cost for surviving and knowing of their existence. 

As Henry read through the journal, back in the office downstairs the meeting was close to wrapping up with Ms. Haleigh set the will to the side and grabbed a final piece of paper.

“Now that we have the legal matters settled, it was the last request of your father that I read this to both of you.” She began, before reading the letter.

“Benjamin and Eveline 

While the mansion and estate have been my home in the twilight of my life, it barely felt like home since your mother, my Emily, passed away. Since it now belongs to you both, I will not fault you should you choose to sell it, all I ask is that my personal journal and my war chest be given to Henry. I know he has been interested in my adventures, and my one regret is I was unable to tell him everything. My hope is that even though my life has come to an end, I can continue to be part of his.

Your Father Barnabus” Ms. Haleigh finished.

Benjamin looked at Eveline and both agreed while they had their jobs in Cambridge it wouldn’t be too much of a change. If anything, moving into the mansion would mean adjusting for drive time since it was an hour from Cambridge to Suffolk. They could also agree that it couldn’t hurt for Henry to have some of his Grandfather’s things, it’s what Barnabus would’ve wanted anyway. And the country air would likely do them all some good, and the village people were all so nice. As the couple finished their business, Henry was still reading the passages in the journal.

He was barely a quarter through, learning Barnabus had joined a special battalion meant to hunt down and kill these dragons, they were aptly called The Dragonslayers. Several more pages described the Firedrakes used by the German’s Elite Air Division, most were thirty feet long from nose to tail, Barnabus did note that while he and his comrades brought down larger Firedrakes, the thirty footers were the most common. The Firedrakes only had four limbs, two wings, which folded to allow for walking on all fours, and two back legs and they could breath fire that could reach up to a thousand degrees fahrenheit. The Germans used hidden factories as breeding depots to churn out hundreds of these creatures in a matter of months and used strange devices that grew them to adults within only a couple months of hatching. There were detailed drawings of the creatures with lengths and wingspans, even descriptions of the saddles of the German riders along with their flight suits and equipment. 

Several pages later showed some new creatures that resembled the type of dragons he had seen in storybooks, four legs and a pair of wings, not to mention the depiction of them breathing fire. There was a chart labeling the sizes of the European dragon throughout their lifecycle;

“-Hatchling-Infant- around 20 inches long, 10 inches tall at the shoulder, wingspan comparable to body length, incapable of flight, unable to breath fire, scales are rough to the touch but not thick. Pupils are round and horns are nubby. After 6 weeks the hatchling is considered an infant and stays near its parent or nest. Susceptible to small arms fire.

-Wyrmling- around 40-50 years of age, 40 to 45 feet from nose to tail, standing 10 to 15 feet at the shoulder, pupils have constricted to a more vertical shape, horns have lengthened and sharpened to points, wingspan is same as body length, and scales have begun to grow dense. Scales have the same armor density as 25mm of steel, most small arms unable to penetrate. Heavy weapons or anti-tank weapons are advised.

-Adult- adulthood begins around 80 years of age, up 90 feet long from nose to tail, standing 30 feet tall at the shoulder, scale armor density equivalent to 90mm of steel, eyes have dim glow to them, horns show wear and tear, scales are bright and brilliant in color. Tank and air support is heavily advised.

-Great Wyrm- approximately 100 years of age, 140 feet long from nose to tail, 40 feet at the shoulder, scale armor density equivalent to 110mm of steel, eyes brightly glow, sometimes glossing over the pupil, horns beginning to splinter at the tips, wingspan same as body length, scales in some parts show signs of scale rot. Aside from breathing fire, one was observed to use lightning as a breath weapon and as an area of effect attack. Tank support, heavy artillery, and air support is required.

-Elder Wyrm- several centuries old, 280 to 300 feet long and 80 feet tall at the shoulder, scale armor density is near impenetrable except when worn down by continuous heavy weapon fire, scale rot has set in and is most visible around where the joints flex and bend. The body is covered in horn and spine growth, the wingspan is equivalent to the body length and capable of hurricane level gusts. The rarest of the dragon species, very little information, other than infield hunting, is known.``

Henry was confused by that last note, as he thought dragons were just fairytales. Yet why would his Grandfather have so much information on them? He turned the page to find several maps of France, Germany, Eastern Europe, Scandinavia, and even England itself, all maps had X’s along with a date and page number next to them, each one signifying where various dragons were killed during and after the war. He flipped through the journal some more, passing a page that made him go back. This one had a location and a date, “Southern Bavaria, 1950, Elder Wyrm, casualties 97 of 110”, steeling himself, Henry read the passage.

“It was a warm summer day, in the shadows of these mountains I’m pretty sure they were the Chiemgau Alps. There was this village we had arrived at situated in this peaceful valley, but there were wyrmling sightings in the area, we feared that meant an Adult was roaming around. The Order sent a hundred and ten of us to investigate, we had support from four Centurion tanks, each with a crew of four, a battery of these 5.5 inch guns, six whole guns with ten men on each one, and that left only thirty-four of us to engage the beast on foot. Well not on foot per say as we all had horses that we would be riding, like the knights of old. We waited into the night, we all sat and talked about the finer things, family back home, situations abroad, and other things. 

I remembered my time with the Dragon Slayers as we took the fight to the Germans, I remembered while the Firedrakes were used to take on our armed forces the Dragons themselves were reserved for more vile deeds. When Hitler’s final solution was enacted, they used dragon fire to extinguish the evidence of their fell deeds, burning hundreds of villages, taking the lives of countless innocents. For these crimes there was no forgiveness, our orders were to hunt down the beasts and end them. I didn’t question my orders, not once, for me it was as simple as avenging my comrades. Then all of a sudden, it happened.

The sky opened as a streak of fire rained on the village, the silence broken by the sound of rushing wind and the wails of the dying and panicked people. In the dead of night, it looked like day, like Hell itself, whether it was courage or our training we leapt into action. We spurred our horses onward as it came over again, setting the rest of the village on fire. There was a great rumble that made the earth tremble, then we saw him standing illuminated by his own fire. Crimson scales glowed in the light, his wings like great shadows stretched outward, his maw was like an open furnace and his eyes glowed bright, the size of him left us frozen, awestruck, frightened. 

From his mouth came death, flame so hot it turned buildings of stone to dust, our escape was cut off, our rearguard left incinerated. Our tanks and artillery fired on him, but those that hit barely grazed his armor, his impenetrable scales held even as we hit him with our anti-tank weapons. It didn’t faze him, what happened next shattered our hope. As he was assaulted by artillery, his body glowed red hot then took an orange color as sparks traveled up his spines, his neck, and wingtips, he faced the hillside where our tanks and artillery were and drew a deep breath. With a deafening roar, lightning spewed from his mouth, wingtips, and back, the hillside erupted in explosions, with one sway of his head the heavy guns were silent.

Our commander ordered us to hide as he went to distract the beast, we found a basement and took shelter as the beast continued his furious display. We dared not emerge until morning, we easily found the body of our commander, his body scorched from the chest down. Even when the dragon was gone, I couldn’t stop shaking. One hundred and ten men went to Bavaria and only thirteen came back.” 

Henry was shocked by the story, disbelieving if it could be real but he didn’t have time to think as the door was opened by his father.

“Henry, we've been looking all over for you. What have you got there?” His father asked in relief.

“It’s Granddad’s old journal, he left it to me, there was a note and everything.” Henry said, showing his dad the letter. 

It was then the rest of the mother and Annette came in. All three let out a sigh of relief before embracing Henry and his father. Ms Haleigh and her two companions also entered the room and, noticing the happy family, said her goodbyes before seeing herself out with her two escorts in tow. The family also decided it was time to head home as well, of course they took Barnabus’s war chest, a large trunk, with them before leaving. Once the family was back home they had dinner and discussed moving into the mansion, all agreeing it was a good idea, before turning in for the night. Henry however stayed awake to read more of his Grandfather’s journal, getting to the part where he fought the Elder Dragon a second time made him worry a little. 

Barnabus wrote that in the 1960s, he and the Dragonslayers returned to Bavaria, this time with more advanced artillery, in this case some experimental tanks we called Chieftains, three whole companies of them. Knowing that the same dragon they faced had roosted in the mountains, they were taking no chances this time around. Barnabus even mentioned they had help from a pair of magic users, which Henry questioned as dragons were one thing but people using magic was pushing the reality a little. He continued reading, getting to the part where the dragon appeared and as he breathed his fire, the magic users pushed it back at him. The Chieftain’s gun had been equipped with high penetration sabot rounds that were devastating to the once impenetrable armor of the dragon as every shot sent scales and blood flying. 

Though Henry was astonished by the passage, the following passage of the dragon’s lair left him in awe.

“…Deep in the cavern, among the blackened rocks and clawed trenches in the stone I found a central chamber with only one other occupant. Another dragon curled up in the back, its tail and wings covering most of its body minus it’s neck and front legs, the shorter horns and overall smaller size identified it as a female. Her scales were taken by the rot, once vibrant scales were now dull and brittle, her body was skinny and her limbs frail, her wings had barely enough leather for gliding let alone flight, but even in this state she could’ve still posed a threat. Seeing this female as she was made me feel something I thought I had lost, I felt sorry for her. I put down my rifle and sword before slowly approaching the female, her eyes burning holes in me not in rage but as if looking for something beneath my armor. 

Her voice startled me, so much it made my heart stop, she asked him a single question. “Why do you falter?” 

I replied that I didn't know, which was true. I had no idea why now I chose to take pity on her, just that for the first time in a while, I was unable to end her. She spoke again saying;

“Perhaps you finally know the gravity of your actions. The countless numbers of my kin you killed, and soon I shall join them.” 

“But why does it feel wrong now? Your kin burned countless people, erased villages, and for what?” I answered, my anger resurfacing but she kept her calm voice as she retorted.

“Me and my kin joined the humans of Germany because their leader promised us a return to our glory instead of living in the shadow of the new dawn. When we finally knew the cost of such promises, we were too late to oppose it and in truth many of us were blind to the consequences. We burned millions and for that alone your kind sought our extinction, but I must ask, was it worth it? When we are all gone, erased from your memories, does it absolve you of your own sins?”

Her words rang through me, in my own quest for revenge I had sullied my hands in the blood of countless dragons. I looked her in the eyes and told her how sorry I was. I even told her that, if it would bring her peace in her final moments, she could take my life. Instead she gave me a chance of redemption, she lifted her tail revealing a single egg laying against her body, covered in red scales and even had a faint glow to it. Tentatively I took it in my hands, it was heavy at least ten pounds and a little bigger than a soccer ball.

As I held the egg in my arms she revealed her name as Fyrasol, and with her last breath made me promise to care for her last hatchling. I vowed that day that the cycle of death ended with me and I would sooner end my own life before I broke it…”

Henry was speechless at the ending but decided that perhaps thinking about it would be best suited for the morning. He sat the journal on the nightstand and laid in his bed before drifting off to dreams of dragons.

-Ten years later-

Henry had finished looking over a report of a relocation project for an Adult dragon to one of the Shetland Isles. Seeing the team had successfully released the Dragon, he ordered them back to Headquarters as soon as they were able. As he relaxed he looked at the picture of him and his Grandfather when he was a kid, it made him think of how far he came after his Grandfather’s funeral. After he finished his secondary education, Henry was recruited by the Order, then further followed Barnabus’ footsteps in joining the Keepers, the former Dragonslayers who joined Barnabus’ dream to ensure the survival of the remaining dragons. As Henry sat in memory he suddenly got a call on his desk phone;

“Director Jaeger.” Henry greeted.

“Director, she’s ready for her afternoon flight.” A female voice answered.

“I'll be right down.” Henry said before hanging up.

Henry went to a closet and pressed a code on a keypad, revealing a black fitted flight suit, he got dressed in it before leaving his office and navigating the facility’s halls to a room overlooking a hanger bay. This hanger however wasn’t for aircraft, instead it had been turned into a lair for a rather exceptional female Wyrmling, she was born from the egg Barnabus saved all those years ago. Following her recovery, Barnabus returned to the Order where he and his fellow Dragonslayers vowed they would dedicate themselves to the preservation of Dragons. The newfound Keepers then began their efforts by locating and guarding the last remaining dragons in Europe, even coordinating with their comrades in the east, learning how to care for these creatures. Named after her mother, Fyra hatched in 1970 and was cared for by Barnabus until his passing in 2010, and less than a decade later she was placed under Henry’s care.

When Henry entered the room he noticed she was being tended to by several people attaching a saddle to her back and in front of her was a woman with glasses and a ponytail who waved at Henry as he came to greet them both. 

“Afternoon Director, I was just giving Fyra a weather update.” The woman said adjusting her glasses.

“I've flown in high winds before.” The dragon replied with a huff.

“Yes but our Director will be on your back, so I’m simply reminding you to be careful.” The woman says as Henry shakes his head, knowing all the regulations when he went out on such dangerous activities.

“Dr. Blume, I can assure you I will be just fine. Now I think Fyra has waited long enough, if everything is ready let’s get this ball rolling.” Henry said.

The men secured the saddle and joined Dr. Blume in the observation room as Henry put on his oxygen supply and a helmet to protect him from the high winds. He got onto Fyra’s saddle, secured a line to his harness, and gave the thumbs up for the hanger doors to open. Fyra stamped her feet excitedly, her wings extended slowly as a red light blinked slowly, once the doors were open fully the light turned green giving Fyra the go ahead. She started with a loping run before leaping out the hanger and taking to the sky, her excitement made evident when she let out a roar and a jet of fire into the air.

[smashmusicideas]

May 25: When the Games You Don’t Like Show Up in Smash

A couple days ago, I published an article about Metroid: Other M for Source Gaming. And the frequency with which I connect different projects I’m working on or ideas I have - coupled with a principled laziness - led me to remember that a lot of people were upset with how Metroid was represented in Smash For. We lost the stage from Metroid Prime (although I don’t think a lot of people liked it, even if I did), and while the only two remixes came from Metroid 1, Samus’ costume, the series’ one stage, and most of the new music game were all from Other M. A game people truly, truly hate.

Now, this isn’t about judging those elements at all (the lifted tracks are mediocre, but Samus’ redesign looks rather nice, honestly. Those veins in her armor really tie it together), so much as thinking about how we interact with games or content we just don’t like. Fortunately I’ve never had the displeasure of truly disliking a character, but it’s a frustration with which I sympathize. A lot of people found Other M a betrayal, and for whatever the justification it has for being represented - it was the most important and high profile Metroid game between the release of Brawl and For - it stings to see Pyrosphere instead of a stage representing Fusion, the latter two Prime games, or something specific to Super Metroid.

On the other hand, though, this is yet one more area where the depth of inspiration Smash uses is wonderful: because it’s not just those games. Yes, it’s a stage from Other M, but it has music from Metroid, Super Metroid, Fusion, Prime, Prime 2, and Hunters. Yes, Skyward Sword isn’t my favorite Zelda, but even though a lot of stuff was taken from that game, so were a lot of things from a lot of Zelda games.

And I think it’s aided by Smash using a style that’s, for all the diversity of art styles it has to use, actually fairly specific. That “light grit” I’m always on about often does look just slightly distinct from all the series from which all these characters come. So in the heat of each fight, it’s easy to just zone out a little bit and see each character as just a mishmash of all different ideas and things and influences.

I’d like to note that I am not using this space to tell people how to feel or “get over” that kind of frustration. This is only a thought on why I think Smash can get away with it in a way other crossovers might not (say, Hyrule Warriors, which did draw from the entirety of Zelda history but was open about it looking mostly at Ocarina of Time, Twilight Princess, and Skyward Sword). Over close to twenty years, Super Smash Bros. has slowly evolved its design philosophy in a way that brings together a seemingly endless number of games, so many in fact that it has almost transcended all of them to be something truly distinct. It’s not one game with a coat of another game’s paint. I think that design makes the things that aggravate us less onerous or noticeable. It’s just Smash.

(Link to my writings on Smash Bros for Nintendo Switch)

[wp-blaze]

Special Edition- The Writer and The Librarian (Book 1) *Gilded Edges

Delve deep into the enigmatic realm of secret societies with The Writer and the Librarian—The Raven Society Book 1. In this spellbinding historical fantasy series, R.L. Geer-Robbins leads readers on a heart-pounding journey through forgotten legends and distorted history. Uncover the chilling secrets of Scottish Mythology and come face to face with the horrifying truths … Continue reading Special Edition- The Writer and The Librarian (Book 1) *Gilded Edges

[curselikeasailorfucklikealady]

@heithsecretvalentines  Hi @forensicsoda I was your Heith secret Valentine!! Here’s a lil drabble with Knight Keith, Knight/chef Hunk (who says he can’t be both?) and flowers!!

It isn’t often that Keith lets his mind wander. It’s a habit he can’t afford, when his life, and the life of his employer, depends on remaining vigilant, constantly detecting possible threats. It’s probably a bad idea for Princess Allura to continue making such powerful enemies, but he knows better than to interfere. What he wants doesn’t matter, or it wouldn’t, if he knew what that was. All that matters to him is that he’s got all he needs.

Really, it’s more than he needs. Not only does he get an allowance of silvers twice a month, he gets to stay in Princess Allura’s summer mansion with her, and even he has to admit that the view is nice.

From the balcony of the Princess’s room (not that he’s allowed in it, but well, when she’s out on a covert trip with Lord Coran, who’s going to stop him?) one can see all the way to the mountains, their silhouettes painting a rich indigo pulse line across the horizon. Below, a clutch of trees garnishes the base of the mountains like vegetables beside a nice roast on a platter, and then the castle’s expansive garden begins, and doesn’t end until the doorstep.

Keith was never one for flowers. Growing up poorer than dirt in one of the nearby villages, without anything resembling family, he was only interested in plants he could eat or wear. Flowers wouldn’t keep him alive through the winter.

Things were different now, obviously.

Now, like the rest of the Princess’s beloved Paladins, Keith eats like a king. He wears shiny white armor, with pink accents to match the royals he is prestigiously charged with protecting, and a lovely red cloak in winter. He sleeps in a bed with down-stuffed pillows and two blankets, so soft it’s almost uncomfortable.

These things are nice. The view is nice. The luxuries are nice, yes. If he had to name his favorite part of being a Paladin, though, none of these things would even be in the running. Hunk is at the top of the list by far.

~

Hunk was one of the Paladins with two jobs, three if you counted how often Pidge consulted with him on her latest weapon designs, but he didn’t mind the workload. Running the castle’s kitchen hardly counted as a job when he loved it so much. The kitchen had a huge door that led to the garden, and was always left open during the day to let out the heat from the always-burning ovens, which meant he had a delightful view while he created edible works of art for the castle’s residents. Having an open door also meant it was the perfect place to sneak in and out of the castle-- that is, assuming one could bribe Hunk to claim he hadn’t seen them. If favors were silvers, Hunk was a loan shark.

Then again, ‘shark’ was overstating things, considering how easy it was to repay his debts. The first time Keith cut through his kitchen, on his way to a solo training session so as to avoid the Princess’s regimen, all Hunk asked for was a nice bouquet of flowers for the empty vase on the kitchen table.

Naturally, being Keith, he had grumbled and kicked a few rocks around the outer edges of the garden, thinking that his request was some kind of mean joke. Sure, anyone could pick flowers, but he’d never bothered. So, he’d never be able to put together a “nice bouquet”. He was hired for his talent for destroying things. Hunk had a nasty sense of humor if his idea of a joke was to give his teammate a task knowing that he would fail. Still, a promise was a promise, so when it was time to head back, he gathered a handful of roses. They were thorny, the kind of flowers that could defend themselves, and he liked that about them.

When he got back, Hunk gushed about how lovely they were, how creative Keith was for mixing yellow, white, and red flowers instead of sticking to one color, thanked him again, and sent him off with a warm, freshly-baked muffin and an even warmer smile.

Keith felt a warmth buzzing under his skin like a fever as he left the kitchen, but he attributed it to the heat from the oven and ran off, avoiding any halls with mirrors in them. He didn’t want to know whether his face was as red as it felt.

The next time Keith went through, Hunk simply asked for a hand, and he ended up holding up a bowl of something viscous, pouring it into another bowl while Hunk mixed and chattered about dough consistency. When he came back, sweaty and a little breathless from training, he was rewarded with more sweets, and a pat on the back for working so hard.

Before they knew it, it became a pattern. Keith started using the kitchen door more often than any other, just because it meant he’d get to see Hunk. He didn’t bring flowers back again, and he didn’t get a sweet every time, but it was always worth it to come through, because he always got that smile, warm enough to thaw his icy pout into an imitation of one.

One day, on one of his usual jogs around the castle, weaving between beds of poppies to practice agility, he jolted to a stop, staring at a rosebush. He wasn’t supposed to let his mind wander. He was supposed to be a sword, sharp, focused, deadly-- so why was he here, standing in the garden staring at a plant and thinking about his fellow Paladin? What did Hunk have in common with a yellow rose?

Well… they were soft, he mused as he absentmindedly reached out and touched one of the petals. They were pretty. The petals framed the center imperfectly, the way Hunk’s hair fell around his face even when he wore a headband to keep it away, and yet, both were imperfectly gorgeous. Keith wanted it. The rose, that is... or maybe both.

With an urgency even he couldn’t explain, he whipped out his boot knife, cut the stem of the most perfect yellow rose, and sprinted back to the kitchen.

Hunk was humming and frying up some lunch when he heard pounding footsteps. Alarmed, he moved the pan off the heat and snatched up the heavy crossbow he always kept nearby, loading and raising it in one fluid motion. No one had any need to run into the kitchen, so logically, if they were running, it was an ambush. If they thought the kitchen was a weak point in the castle, though, they had another thing coming. Much to his surprise, once he had his weapon raised to shoulder level, the point of the arrow notched in it was inches away from Keith’s nose.

Before he could say anything, Keith raised his hands as if in surrender, and then straightened his right arm, holding a single yellow rose up to Hunk. “This reminded me of you.” He blurted out awkwardly, completely glossing over the weapon pointed at his face. “I want you to have it.”

Relaxing, Hunk lowered his crossbow with one hand and took the flower with the other. A complicated silence fell, as it took him a second to line up all the dots, but after it clicked, a playful smile bloomed on the chef’s face. “Bringin’ me flowers? Are you a suitor?”

The s-word was practically an insult around this castle, because every few months, some fool would come and attempt to win Allura’s heart with gifts and obsequious flattery, and leave with their pride bitten in half. Keith hated them, but he still laughed despite himself, teasing back, “Depends. Is the answer yes?”

Keith spent half his time in the kitchen turning various shades of pink and red, matching the carnations and poppies in Hunk’s vase, but now- now, it was Hunk’s turn to flush red, and suddenly, Keith had a new favorite shade. “Are you serious?” He questioned, thick eyebrows furrowing.

“When am I not?” For someone who had no idea what he was doing, he sure sounded like he knew.

Grinning slowly, Hunk shook his head. “Then nope.” He paused, then stepped closer, and Keith bristled at having someone else in his personal space, prompting Hunk to laugh. “I mean, no, I won’t marry you and let you borrow my resources.” He joked, referring to what Allura’s suitors were always after. “But…” Keith, who’d been scowling at the ground, looked up hopefully, and it offered the perfect angle to lean down and kiss him, but Hunk couldn’t be sure what he wanted. Stealing a kiss when he was just joking would make things awkward between them forever, which would not be ideal the next time they were sent into the field together. “Yes, I definitely like you, you know, like that, if that was the question. Was it?”

Keith answered his question by closing the distance between them and pulling Hunk down into a kiss, a resounding yes to both the question Hunk asked, and the one he hadn’t. The crossbow still in Hunk’s hand clattered to the ground, and his arms wrapped around the smaller paladin to pick him up, smiling against his lips.

~

Even now, standing on the forbidden balcony and looking out at the view for the thousandth time, the memory of his first kiss with Hunk makes Keith smile to himself, and his eyes drop from the majestic mountains to the clutch of yellow roses in the royal garden, and then down to his own hands, turning something shiny between his fingers.

It’s not often Keith lets his mind wander; but when it does, it goes to Hunk, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. War or no war, he knows what he wants now. All he needs to do is ask.

[sorceressmidnight]

Midnight Sorceress

Chapter: 6/? [1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - ?]

Chapter 6: You’re Not Alone

Words: 2925

Warnings: Some cursing, medication and therapy mentions, a heated argument, relapse mention, choking briefly, fighting

Primarily following the events of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it revolves around an original character.

Description as posted on ao3:  A member of SHIELD is forced to struggle with her mental stability and keeping her secret as the craziness surrounding the Avengers crashes around her. She ends up befriending Tony and Pepper, who help out her mental health a great deal, but will they be able to help her with her secret? Something that could destroy her if she uses it too much… What will happen when Tony tries to convince her to use it to help the Avengers?

Read on ao3: here

Tags: @txnystarkimagines @h0bsyrup

Hit me up if you want to be tagged in future chapters.

This chapter happens just before and during Age of Ultron.

“Pep’s gonna flip when she finds out you've been tinkering and making suits again.” Tony groaned under his breath, leaning over and pinching the tip of her nose lightly. “You know it helps with my anxiety.” “So would some pills, or maybe therapy,” Kiana retorted, pushing his hand away and rubbing her nose. “You know I don't have time for that,” he grumbled, going back to his work. “Besides, I'm close to finishing your suit. Would you prefer a whole head mask, just over the eyes, or goggles?” “I'm sure she'd be against that too, only because she probably wouldn't want me fighting either. I guess it doesn't matter… as long as I can see? I guess?” “You're so indecisive,” he pinched her cheeks softly, pouting. “I'm hoping to have it ready by the next time we go on a mission.” “I… I can't go with you guys… I'm not an avenger! Plus!! All superheroes have cool backstories! I'm just… I'm just me!” “...  That's what you're concerned about? Seriously? You can spar with both Nat and Clint, you have pretty decent endurance from your martial arts and swimming, and you can literally make a pile of dirt fight for you. But… you're not capable of being a superhero. Right.” The sarcasm in his voice was thick by the end of his little speech. It was an attempt to rile her up, knowing she hated it when he gave her that tone. “I could die, Tony!” “That's what the suit’s for.” “I could still die…” she pouted, crossing her arms. “That's what we're here for. We help keep each other safe. You already have three people who care about you on the team. We wouldn't let anything serious happen. You’d be a huge help to the team… Okay, how about this. Lemme finish up with the suit, and we’ll go from there. Sound fair?” She sighed finally, pinching his cheek. “Fine, but when I say I’m uncomfortable, you back down.” “Don’t worry. I’d never try to push you further than you could go. Besides, most of the stuff I’d be taking you on would be raids, so we’d have an advantage anyway. C’mon, though. Pep wanted to go out for food.”

Kiana pulled the curtain and walked out from the makeshift changing room, standing in front of Tony, Bruce, and Sammy with her arms crossed. She was wearing the suit Tony had made for her, now with a pair of goggles that covered her eyes and wrapped around her the back of her head, an earpiece connected so she could stay in contact with everyone. The goggles were black with the glass tinted a light blue. “Okay. Gavin, tell her about the specs.” “Sure. Would you prefer Miss Mariveil or Kiana?” “Kiki’s fine. You can simplify it. I’ve got a headache and I’m not in the mood for lengthy explanations.” “I can tell. I have been programmed to monitor your health as to make sure nothing is to go wrong during fights. Mr. Stark designed it with leather to be sturdy for fighting with the added technology of increasing the percentage of your powers by roughly fifty percent. In case of emergencies, I can increase the percentage which will allow me to channel your power to create a safer situation for you. This is mostly if you become unconscious or are severely wounded. Your goggles are used to keep communication with the others while out on a mission. I am also able to assist you with how best to maneuver.” “Okay, Gavin, was it? I have a question.” “Of course, what is it?” “Can I call you Ethan? I think that fits your voice better.” “If that’s what you wish, then you can address me as Ethan.” “Whoa! Hey,” Tony butted in, crossing his arms. “I made him. You can’t just go and change his name.” “Sir, I was created for Miss Mariveil. I believe it is up to her to decide what to call me.” “I like him,” Kiana smirked, putting her hands on her hips. “So, I’m guessing we’re going to do one last test run? Since this should be the ‘final’ version?” “I do have a question,” Sammy piped up, “why is limited in the first place?” “After several tests and examination of everything, it has been determined that fifty percent is high enough to use her powers for an extended time with no major repercussions. However, any higher than about fifty-five to sixty percent would make it difficult for Kiki to keep control of her powers. It also is harder to scan the stress on her body the higher the percentage.” “Now we can work on testing this baby out,” Kiana smirked as she looked towards the machine she had been testing her powers on since Tony first made the suit. She lifted her arms and gestured her hands to begin lifting the machine, watching as it started lifting off of the floor until it was about halfway from the floor and the ceiling. She grinned to herself, giving out a happy laugh as she slowly brought it back down. The others quietly stared, waiting to see what she had to say. “I didn’t feel anything, Tony! It felt no different than lifting a pencil!” she shouted, jumping up to hug him. He held her tightly and swung her around, joining her in happy laughter. “That’s great!” he finally let her down, smiling, “Gav--Ethan, stress levels?” “Everything is normal, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony!” Kiana called out as she watched Tony stare into space, making her way down to him. He was staring blankly forward towards what was formerly Loki’s scepter. He shook his head, seeming to come to before reaching his arm out, the glove of his armor coming before he grabbed it. “Are you okay?” she asked, brows raised as she saw something in the corner of her eye. She tried to see what it was, but nothing was there once she did look. He finally turned and faced her, brows knitted together. “I’m fine. Are you?” He ushered her up the stairs and out of the area.

“Hey, Pep! Tony’s throwing a party in a couple of days, are you coming?” Kiki asked, pressing the a button on the side of her goggles as they collapsed down into one ear piece. Pepper raised a brow as she watched the goggles collapse, concern growing on her face. “What is that?” “Huh? Oh, uh… It’s my suit. It’s so I can use my powers without putting too much strain on myself.” “Use?! For what?! Did-” she stopped and grabbed her arms, gesturing over some cuts and scrapes she had received when they went on their mission, “Did Tony make this?! He should know better than to take you out on a mission!” “I-It’s not that bad…” she tried to retort, feeling Pepper grabbing her hand and pulling her towards where she would find Tony. “I don’t care! That’s not the point!” It took a minute or two before they found him, Pepper more furious the longer it took to get to him. He smiled at the two, about to say something before he was cut off. “What the hell is this about?! How could you let her go out on a mission?! She could die, Tony!” “W-whoa, Pep… She was great! She was never alone, I had an eye on her all the time! I would never let anything happen to her!” he tried to reassure her. “That’s not what I’m talking about! She did get hurt! Do you see her arms?! What if this causes her to relapse?!” Her brows furrowed, forcing him to look over the cuts and scrapes. “Pepper,” Tony gently rubbed her shoulders, “nothing happened. How about this? I won’t take her out on another mission.” “You said you wouldn’t be making anymore suits!” she hissed, pushing his hands off of her shoulders. “I’m not going to let you risk Kiki’s life, too!” She grabbed Kiana’s hand, brows knitted together as she turned to walk off. He grabbed her hand before she left out the door, frowning. “Don’t you think isolating her and taking her from her friends will worsen her depression?! Besides, she’s an adult, I think she should be given the chance to choose what she gets to do!” “Ugh! Fine! I’m leaving!” she hissed at Tony, gently holding Kiana’s hands. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me, okay? I’m available any time,” she gave her a tight hug before a soft kiss on her forehead, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her. Kiana frowned, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, soft tears forming in her eyes. “Hey, hey… It’s not your fault, okay? You didn’t make Pep leave. It’ll be alright,” he pulled her into a hug, calming her down from the previous tension.

The party began as planned, most showing up around the start of it while others straggled into the tower. Most of them chatting with one another, others at the bar getting a drink, some others just watching the excitement from the comfort of their own little zone. Sammy and Kiana were sitting on a couch together, watching the party go on from off in the corner. “I plan on taking pictures. Everyone’s probably going to act stupid, so I want as much proof as possible to make fun of them with later on,” Kiana smirked, scrolling on her phone as glanced around to see if there was anything picture worthy. “I’m glad you’re here. I barely know anyone and I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone either,” Sammy murmured, taking a sip of her drink. The two chatted as they watched the others, taking pictures and laughing at some of the antics of the others. Tony strolled his way over to the corner, staring down at the two with a brow arched. “What’re you two up to?” “Avoiding social interaction.” “Makes sense for you, but what about you? Are you still upset about what happened with Pep?” His voice softened by his second question. Kiana gave a quick flash of a half-smile and a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m just not fully feeling up for partying. I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed, I guess.” “Hey… it’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of it. If you want to talk, just grab me, okay?” He asked, receiving a nod in response before he rejoined the majority of the party. The party started to slow and eventually ended with just the members of the Avengers, Maria, Rhodey, Helen Cho, Sammy, and Kiana. There became a challenge with some of them in trying to pick up Thor’s Mjolnir, Kiana recording in short bursts as each person tried to lift it, laughter filling the room during the struggles. After Thor saying ‘You’re all not worthy’ and some bickering among everyone, there was a loud screeching that forced everyone to wince and cover their ears, looking around in attempts to find what made the noise.

“Tony, I-... I’m sorry about Jarvis... “ Kiana gently wrapped her arms around Tony’s shoulders, leaning over him slightly as he sat on his chair, hands in his lap. She squeezed softly as she hugged him, knowing how upset he must be. “I…” he balled his hands, nails lightly digging into his fists. “I have to stop him.” “You won’t have to do it alone,” she spoke softly, leaning her head against his gently. He sighed, lifting his arms to hug her back, feeling vulnerable and weak yet comforted by the simple action.

“Just be careful, okay?” came Kiana’s voice to Tony, brows knitted together as she looked around, watching as Tony intercepted Ultron. She watched as the fight began, working to stop the bullets from hitting the others and disarming some of the men that were brought in. She helped from the sidelines, staying out of sight and making it easier for the others to take down the enemies. A hand found its way around her throat, squeezing as she was lifted into the air, being face to face with Ultron now. “Why is it I can’t find any files on you? I would assume Stark would want to keep something on you and that little suit he made, but I can’t find anything,” he spaced the last four words out as he spoke. “Kiki,” she heard Ethan through the earpiece, struggling to keep breathing, “since he’s not human, you can directly use your powers on him. Take advantage of that to get him off of you, then use the railing behind you to get down to the others.” Her brows knitted together, moving her hands and using her powers to pry his hand off of her throat, landing on the walkway below the two. After inhaling deeply for the first time in about thirty seconds, she then threw him through the nearest wall before grabbing onto the railing and bending it to get down onto the lower floor. “Oh jeez,” she murmured, seeing everyone except Clint down. “You can say that again.” “Natasha, I could really use a lullaby.” came Tony’s voice through the headset, causing the two to look at one another. “Well, that’s not gonna happen. Not for a while. The whole team is down, you got no back up here.” Clint responded. “I’m not down! I’m on my way,” Kiana stood up swiftly, ready to rush out. “No, you stay with Barton. He’ll need help getting everybody back to the jet. I’ll meet up with you when I’ve gotten Bruce back.” “He’s right, we should work on that before anyone else shows up. I can carry one person, do you think you could use your powers?” “Yeah. Let’s just get them on something that I can lift.” The two worked together to get two of their teammates on a large sheet of metal they found lying around before taking them back to the jet together. Tony and Bruce eventually rejoined them as they left the area, headed towards a safe house in attempts to stay underground for a while.

[freereignastarwarsstory]

Chapter 2: A Purpose

Disclaimer: I (@draksisreborn) own nothing but my OCs. Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. Many thanks to my fellow writer @zazabelle, who has been amazing as always and who also did the cover art and character designs for this project. Please review and critique this tribute to the characters of SW who are never spoken of, the ones who only wish to survive.

Rating: T (sci-fi violence and language)

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Cenden was hauled through the corridors of the cargo ship by the Mandalorian and Shistavanen, the latter of which he assumed was the captain. He gritted his teeth in both pain and annoyance as he entered the medical bay. Or closet for that matter. The room contained almost no proper medical equipment other than standard battlefield bandages, splints, and painkillers. The commando droid laid the Devaronian, ‘Nek I think he was called,’ on the medical table before turning towards his captain. Releasing his grip on Cenden, the captain turned to his droid.

“Alright, get down to the engine room and get us powered up, Chol will take care of the rest.” The droid nodded and loped out of the room, casting a quick glance towards Cenden before exiting the room.

The Mandalorian eased Cenden into a chair next to his patient before removing her helmet, revealing her flaming red hair, dark skin, and brown eyes. She locked him in a glare, eyes bloodshot with worry as she shoved some bacta bandages and painkillers into his hands.

“Patch yourself up, then get right to Nek. His life is worth more than yours” She growled before stomping out of the room. Cenden shivered as she went, then quickly wrapping the bacta around his leg and injecting the painkillers with clenched teeth.

“Please, forgive my second in command. She...leans on her emotions more than the rest of us.” The captain spoke softly. “My name is Soron, and this is my ship, the Raving Titan. What is your name?”

Cenden mulled over his response, old habits struggling in the face of Soron’s smooth, convincing voice.

“K-Kandor. My name is Kandor.” He responded, hoping his lie would appease the wolfman. He say his eye narrow slightly, before the captain nodded. “Well then Kandor, you have a lot of work to do.” Cenden sensed desperation in his voice now. “Please, do whatever you must to save him. I’ll be here to assist you.” Cenden gave a simple nod and limped over to his patient, examining his shoulder wound.

It wasn’t a pretty sight. Though cauterized by the blaster’s extreme heat, the wounded could still become infected, not to mention the fact that his clothing had become fused with the open flesh in places.

“I need a plasma scalpel, immuno boosters, and bacta. Lots of bacta.” Soron nodded and began to grab the required items, passing them to Cenden as needed. This went on for some time before Cenden realized that the meager supplies here wouldn’t be enough. He could feel Nek’s life steadily draining.

His stomach twisted in knots.

‘I really don’t want to do this. In fact… I’m not even sure I can anymore.’ Cenden thought. ‘But I need to save his life. It's what my master would want.’

Shielding the Devaronian’s body as much as he could, he called on the Force for the first time in many months. It came to him like an old friend, bound by memory but awkward with time. Using the techniques he had learned to accelerate the healing process, he held his hand over the wound and began connecting and shifting the broken energies. Cenden paid extra attention to himself as he connected with the Devaronian’s energy, now sharing the sickening feeling of the wound, but only for a moment.  

Cenden glanced at the captain, currently searching for more immuno boosters and synthetic blood, causing Cenden to breathe a sigh of relief as the wound began to knit itself back together as he stemmed the flow of Force energy. Though he had sworn he saw Soron stiffen slightly, he dismissed it as a side effect of the painkillers. Quickly he tightly wrapped the wound in as many bandages as he could manage to make it look believable that the wound was still healing underneath. He eased himself back into his chair, his work mostly done. His leg burned, and his energy quickly sapping, Cenden called the captain over.

“He will be fine now, he just needs rest and time to heal. Be sure to change his bandages in a few days. Now, is there a place where I can rest?” He asked the captain, the pain killers starting to make the world spin a little.

“Take a left outside the door, second on the right. You’ll be sharing with someone else for now, is that ok?” Soron inquired.

“That is acceptable.” Cenden responded, making slowly for the door, every step dull agony. However, he was stopped by a furred hand resting on his shoulder, forcing him to turn to meet Soron’s glowing yellow eyes.

“Thank you again. Me and my crew are in your debt.” He said. Cenden gave a quiet nod and left the room, seeking the welcoming embrace of sleep.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“BX you can come in now.” Soron spoke. BX slid from his hiding place outside the medical bay and stepped in, ducking under the doorframe slightly.

“Will he live?” The droid inquired, giving a cursory glance over Nek.

“Aye, he will. But our new friend ‘Kandor’ is hiding something. I know it.” He said examining under the bandages while Nek slept. “Blaster wounds don’t heal like that, not with normal medicine.” Soron turned to BX, locking eyes with his white photoreceptors. “I believe he’s a survivor, but I need you to confirm.”

“What would you have me do captain?” BX responded.

“I can tell he is uneasy around you. Figure out if its from the war. He will be rooming with you, but he doesn’t know that. Make him as uneasy as possible and see if you can find anything to confirm my suspicions.”

“When would you like a report? I will need time to examine all possibilities and outcomes.” BX explained, feeling what could only be described as dread at the concept of a Clone Wars veteran.

“As soon as possible.” Soron commanded. BX nodded and left the room.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Cenden was intrigued by the room he had been assigned to. It was spotlessly clean, with a low desk and racks of weapons and tools, but no bed. On the desk was a currently disassembled DH-X rifle, yet each piece was in perfect geometric alignment with each other. And, judging by the look of some of them, custom made, as were many of the tools. He also took notice of the full suit of stormtrooper pilot armor in the corner, in surprising condition for something that was likely pried off someone’s corpse. But he was still confused as to whose room this was. ‘Maybe zhe Mandalorian? Or this Chol everyone keeps talking to?’

His question was quickly answered as the door slid open, revealing the commando droid from earlier, bedroll tucked neatly under his arm. Within a moment however, the droid let out a low growl, photoreceptors locked on Cenden.

“No no no no no!” The droid panicked as he rushed to the table.

His hands began to make miniscule changes to everything Cenden had touched, changes that were almost impossible to see. The droid whirled around and stomped straight towards the culprit, faceplate inches from Cenden’s face.

“You. You almost ruined my work. From now on consider yourself on notice.”

“Ok, what?” Cenden shouted back.

“You’re lucky the captain likes you so much.” It stated before taking a step back and shoving the bedroll into Cenden’s chest, nearly causing him to fall over.

“He’s your master. You can’t do anything without his orders.” Cenden rebutted.

“Clearly you weren’t paying attention on Basteel. You will be staying on the right side of the room. Keep all personal items neatly organized on that side. Disturb my possession again and you will incur heavy consequences.”

Cenden took the bedroll and laid it against the wall. “Up yourz clanker.” He muttered under his breath.

“Call me that again and I’ll show you what a true war droid can do.” The droid replied from his desk, where he was cleaning a flechette launcher.

Cenden unrolled the mat and nearly collapsed onto the ground. His leg was burning, while a cold sweat began to shake his being. His attempts to calm his breathing only seemed to make him more aware of how the painkillers were melting away his calm composure.

The droid’s presence was not helping.

“Help! General we’re taking heavy fire!”

A memory flashed by.

“No. Shut up. You’re fine” Cenden whispered harshly to himself as he took a breath and closed his eyes.

“NO! NO PLEASE!”

His eyes flew open while the room started to swim. The droid turned towards him, his mechanical eyes watching. Watching.

Cenden hands flew to his ears as he curled up tight on the mat.

“Not again, please leave me alone…” He whispered as he slipped back into the recesses of his mind.

The droids were gone.

The temple should’ve been safe.

But a droid is here. Why would such a terrible thing be allowed to exist?

Just keep swinging. Just keep moving. The Force is here. But is it? There is no end to the death.

The droid stepped closer to the unconscious man having a panic attack on his floor. With careful movement of his foot, he pushed the man and the mat a little further to the wall and straightened the wrinkled corner ever so slightly before backing away to see if it squared up evenly.

“Close enough.” The droid concluded before reaching to his comm. “Orders fulfilled Soron.”

Soron’s voice came over the comm. “You already got him to talk?”

“Those were not my instructions.”

“...What?”

“You said to make him as uneasy as possible, I calculated the corrected phrases and terms that should get him to reveal if he has any previous trauma to war.”

“And does he?” Soron strained, his voice laced with anger or worry.

“From my scan, I would say this level of a stress induced panic attack would indicate past war trauma.”

“....” Static came over the comm.

“Soron?” BX spoke. “Soron? Can I make him leave now? Him being here is throwing off the symmetry of my room.”

The door opened behind BX. Soron walked briskly into the room and stopped when he saw Cenden.

Soron sighed as his hand came up to pinch between his brow.

“Ok, ya, I guess I wasn’t specific enough.” he patted the droid on the back, “A for effort I guess.”

“Effort does not start with an A.”

“Shut up and just help me move him into the extra room!” Soron yelled.

Without another word, BX took a step forward and bent down to pick up the injured man. Pulling him halfway from the ground, BX began to build momentum to put him onto his shoulder.

Cenden screamed as his eyes flew open.

The pressure built before exploding outwards away from Cenden sending BX flying across the room.

Cenden landed, nearly crumpling to the floor and stood drunkenly on one leg. His breathing rapid and his eyes bulging with confusion and fear, he stared at the droid rising from the ground and the Shistavanen staring back.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” he bellowed before collapsing onto his hands and knees.

“Whoa, ok there!” Soron rushed forward.

Grabbing his arm and wrapping it around his back, he heaved Cenden from the ground

And rushed him through the open door.

Soron nearly dragging Cenden down the hallway, he saw Lerti’s fiery head pop out from around the corner.

“Lerti, actual guest room, now!” Soron strained between breaths.

Lerti nodded and ran ahead, opening the door to their extra room. Soron pulled him through the door before flopping the half conscious man down onto the bed.

He watched Lerti back out of the room. He thought about asking for her to run and get some sedatives from the medical supplies but at this point, Soron wasn’t sure he would need it, the man was fading fast.

“Please… Please get away…” Cenden whispered desperately as his eyes fought to stay open.

“We have a lot to discuss, Jedi.” Soron whispered as the Jedi slipped out of awareness.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Soron sighed as he watched the man’s body go limp. Turning to walk out, he saw BX standing in the door frame, his head tilted in curiosity.

“Did I do something… incorrect, to your instructions?” BX asked as Soron walked passed him.

“You did exactly as I said. Doesn’t mean it was right on my part… I think he’ll be ok but just try and keep your distance from him until he’s in his right mind again.” Soron explained to the droid.

BX nodded and turned to go back to his room to clean up the damage from their “experiment”. The droid could almost feel what organics would call a shudder when he reviewed the memory of that man touching his perfectly organized blaster pieces.

“The nerve.” he muttered to himself before turning the corner.

Soron let out a breath and turned down the hallway to head towards their lounging area near the center of the ship. Opening the door, he found Lerti already there waiting for him with two cups of stimcaf resting on the table in the middle of sectional sofas.

“I’m guessing you were needing this as much as I was.” she smiled.

“Ya probably.” he mumbled as he flopped onto the couch. “I feel sort of awful.”

“Man, I do too. I think I pulled something in my shoulder.” Lerti groaned as she rolled her shoulder.

“No I was meaning about our guest. I think I made BX give him a heart attack.”

Lerti shrugged, “Why do you care? It’s not like we’re keeping him.”

Soron looked at Lerti.

“What? No! Soron! We can’t pick up another ‘passenger’, we can barely get by with the four of us!” Lerti complained.

“We owe him greatly.”

“We owe him nothing. His whole ‘good deed act’ saved Nek but that doesn’t mean we can trust him, much less owe him anything!”

“I wasn’t just talking about Nek, Lerti.”

“Then what? Soron, we don’t owe anyone anything!”

“We owe him this!”

“Why!?”

“Lerti I think he’s a survivor!”

She went quiet for a moment before lowering her voice.

“Soron what are you talking about?”

“The Old Republic… The Jedi. I think he was one of them.”

“Soron, the Jedi aren’t real. You know I love to tell stories as much as the next guy but...”

“No they weren’t. I’m old enough to remember. I’m old enough that I won’t give into that awful propaganda about them! They are real, and almost none of them survived after the emperor took control of everything and attempted to wipe them out.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Lerti asked with wide eyes.

“I’ll tell you once we have our crew together for a little chat. That includes our hopeful new member pumped full of painkillers laying in the other room.” Soron said as he turned to leave the room.

“I’m going to check on Nek. Be sure to swing by Cholmon and give him our next destination.” Soron commanded as the door slid open in front of him.

“Where are we going now?”

“Let’s swing by Nar Shaddaa. Beebs should be able to help us lie low for a while.”

“You got it cap.”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nearly a day and a half later, Nek woke up with a slight headache and a lot of questions, but to the rest of the crew, he seemed livelier than ever. Under the several layers of bandages, the blast wound was almost completely healed, Nek describing it feeling like “a ton of insect bites” but not much worse than that. Despite the crew’s insistence he stay put and rest for a while, he was up and moving about the ship only about three hours after his waking up.

Needless to say, Lerti and Cholmon couldn’t help but be suspicious of the miraculous recovery. Nek himself was just as confused. Soron had continually promised to explain everything, but only after they were sure their guest was going to live.

Since his “incident” he hadn’t woken up. Once the crew had landed in Nar Shaddaa, they had begun taking shifts watching him, but everyone reported in that he hadn’t so much as stirred once.

Cholmon shuffled into the room to take his shift. Nek sat patiently next to his savior and smiled when he saw Cholmon.

“I’m happy to be alive, I don’t care why. But it seems the how is still out for the count.” the Devaronian said gesturing to the human.

“Give him time I guess.” Cholmon shrugged indifferently.

“I get shot almost clean through the shoulder and I'm almost completely healed, but he gets shot in the leg and now… It doesn’t make sense.” Nek sighed.

“Not to many things do Nek, now go get some rest for crying out loud. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Cholmon uttered, putting a webbed hand on Nek’s shoulder.

Nek nodded silently before rising from his chair and heading for the doorway. Cholmon sat down heavily with a thump. Putting his feet up near the foot of the bed, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

“Looks like you’re contagious, mystery man, ‘cause I could really go for a nap right about now too.” Cholmon mumbled sarcastically as he sank into the chair.

Several rooms over, Lerti sparred with BX while Soron and Nek watched, making bets for the winner. The droid and the Mandalorian seemed almost be dancing in their practice fight. BX’s movements calculated and quick, while Lerti moved on her feet, looking almost carefree as she threw her punches. It was an interesting bout to be sure.

Outside on Nar Shaddaa, storm clouds had gathered overhead. Rain poured down, thudding rhythmically on the haul of the ship. Lightning split across the sky and thunder exploded moments later. Back in Cenden’s room, the Jedi stirred in his sleep.

His eyes suddenly flew open.

With a quickly drawn in breath, he shot up into sitting position, his eyes flying about the room.

His eyes locked onto the Mon Calamari taking a nap in the chair next to the bed as he tried to piece together where he was and why he was there… The firefight, the injured Devaronian; he was on a ship.

He reached out with the Force, connecting to the surrounding area, they weren’t in space, which was a start. At least he could try and find his way off the ship and hide somewhere less conspicuous than an escape pod. Carefully pulling the covers aside, he shifted his body as quietly as possible so as not to wake the alien nearest to him. Pulling one leg over the side of the bed, he held in a gasp of pain when fire ran up the side of his leg.

He looked down at the still very raw but bandaged blast hole in his leg.

Oh ya. That. Cenden thought as vague memories of painkillers, a droid, and a Shistavanen trying to attack him flooded back.

His stomach fluttered in panic.

They know.

Quickly placing his hand on his thigh, he connected with the living energy within himself, then to the Force flowing around him and throughout the room. Finally connecting with the tear in his being, he inhaled in pain, the little energy he had quickly draining from him. Breaking the connection, he leaned back on one hand and removed the bandages as he gasped for breath.

The wound was still there.

I must’ve used up more power than I thought healing that Devaronian… Did I even break the connection with him? Exhaustion quickly began eating away at Cenden again.

Focusing, he broke any bonds he had strung together and felt some energy return to him.

Well that’s just great, I must’ve been using up my energy to heal him. Alright Cenden, just escape the ship then you can take a nap, sound good you idiot? Cenden thought to himself as he began to build momentum.

Quietly hopping up from the bed, he leaned on his good leg and the wall as he began his shuffle out from the room. His mind felt like it was in a fog as he made his way down the hallway. For the first time in a long time, he just let the Force pull him along through the winding corridors and seemingly endless hallways.

He was looking for anything that looked like a exit, any kind of door that might lead to the outside.

Cenden jumped as thunder roared overhead. Letting out a breath, he shook his head and kept going. That pulling feeling stopped suddenly as he passed a door that met at the crossroads of two dividing hallways. This did not look like an exit, but it was the only lead he knew for certain would lead him where he needed to be… Maybe.

At that same moment, back in the sparring room, Nek decided he was feeling a little run down after all and told the others he was going to go lay down for a while.

Cenden reached for the door’s control panel.

Nek watched the door speed open and gasped a little when someone was standing immediately on the other side.

Cenden’s eyes locked onto Nek’s as he stumbled back against the wall in shock.

Soron and Lerti looked over in surprise.

BX shoved Lerti against the wall, then looked over at the door.

“You should really work on your focus. Oh and Soron, the Jedi is at the door.” BX observed.

Everyone was quiet. Everyone waiting for someone else to make a move.

Soron took a step forward.

Cenden pushed himself further up against the wall.

Lerti smiled a little and stood up, “Where do you think your heading? Don’t you want to introduce yourself first?”

Cenden scowled at them before replying.

“I want off this ship. Now.”

Soron frowned a little, glancing at Cenden’s leg.

“Why haven't you healed your wound?” Soron questioned.

Cenden’s face fell, for a moment he thought about all he had to hide. How long he had been alone and hiding. He was stuck on this ship, there was no escape at the moment. There was nothing that could be done…

“Don’t you think I tried? ...I’m tired.” Cenden voiced in defeat.

“Well you can go back to our guest room then, you’re allowed to stay as long as you need. We owe you that much.” Nek spoke.

Lerti scowled a little before rolling her eyes and walking through the door.

“Come on back to the room. Soron promised answers and you’re going to help out with those.” she said as she walked past Cenden, gesturing for everyone to follow. “Also, I’m hoping Cholmon was just being Cholmon when you managed to sneak passed him.”

“The Mon Calamari? He was sleeping.” Cenden explained as he limped along the corridor followed by the rest of the crew.

“Figures.” Nek mumbled in reply, “By the way, I never got a chance to thank you.” he directed at Cenden.

“Don’t mention it.”

The group made it back to the room, Cholmon was still sleeping in his chair exactly where Cenden had left him. Lerti walked briskly across the room, quickly throwing Cholmon’s legs off the side of the bed. His eyes flew open in surprise and he sat bolt upright.

“Wah!? What? Oh, um…” Cholmon’s looked at Cenden in shock, “Well look at that… He did wake up.”

“Ya and great job watching him for us Chol.” Soron uttered sarcastically before gesturing for Cenden to sit on the bed.

Lumbering over, Cenden flopped back onto the bed, hissing from the pain in his leg. Sighing, he looked to Soron.

“What do you want?” he inquired forcefully.

He noticed a look pass between the crew members, as if they knew what was coming.

Soron stepped forward, “I want to repay you.”

“You have repaid me! I saved his life you gave me a place to rest, your debt has been repaid.”

Soron was quiet for a moment, just watching him speak.

“I don’t think I could ever truly repay you for all you have done.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was there when the order was given… I was there when the Jedi fell.”

Nek suddenly stepped forward, “Wait! So he actually is a Jedi!? ‘Cause that would explain a lot.”

“I. Am no. Jedi! Not anymore!” Cenden barked.

Soron stepped back in, “But you were. What was your position?”

“... I was a temple guard. In charge of protecting the sanctuaries and sacred temples of the Jedi order. Especially during the Clone Wars.” his gaze became far off, his voice dropped down to almost a whisper, “The droid armies had suddenly abandoned the area, we should have been safe. But then the…” Cenden cut himself off, his voice pained.

“Then the clones attacked.” Soron finished.

Cenden nodded silently.

“I was there, on one of the sites where the order was given. I could barely make out what was happening, it was like the clones just went mad. I watched them slaughter their brothers in arms like they were vicious animals. Why? Why did they do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“How are you alive?”

“I don’t know.”

“The emperor took control only days later, you must see the connection.”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Cenden bellowed, dropping his head into his hands, “What. Do. You. Want? Are you going to turn me in?”

“I think he’s made it pretty clear we’re not going to turn you in.” Lerti snorted.

“We don’t fight for the Empire.” Soron retorted.

Cenden raised an eyebrow. He looked slightly taken back.

“Then for the Rebellion?” He questioned.

“Pointless. All of it.” Soron reposed, “So the Empire takes over the galaxy. Then what? The Empire is doing all of this for power, and what does it matter to them? What does it matter to the Emperor? And what does all of this matter to us?” he laughed, “And the Rebellion? If, or when they manage to stop them, then what? Whoever is in charge changes nothing, not really. But we,” he gestured to his crew, “We are apart of a free reign. We do not fight for any side, we do not just survive. We are trying to find how to live. All of us are fighting to find a greater purpose than who’s in charge of what. There really is no point to it, and we are looking for a purpose. And I think you can help us find that purpose. I think we could give you a purpose.”

“What do you mean?” Cenden asked.

“Well, who better to help us find a greater purpose than a man connected to the greatest purpose?” Soron explained.

Cenden was quiet for a moment.

“You’re talking about zhe Force?” he asked curtly.

“Of course I’m talking about the Force! You’re kind of slow aren’t you?” Soron jested.

Cenden rolled his eyes, “I don’t know if zhere’s a point to that.”

Soron smiled, “You have reason to doubt your abilities, I’m sure. Every war leaves its scars. But regarding the Force? There is every point to it. It guides you doesn’t it? It moved you to us, it moved you to save Nek. And it moved Nek to get shot in the first place. It sees things greater than we are, it makes up all things, it binds all things together, and that includes time. The Force decides who lives and who dies and how and why. You are connected to it. You are it’s prophet, it speaks through you. It helps you.”

“It didn’t help any of us when it mattered the most! I watched my fellow guards get slaughtered! I should’ve been dead too! They just kept shooting and shooting at the bodies! Without remorse, without thought… Then they shot at me. I should not be alive right now.”

“But you are.” Cholmon finally spoke.

“Ya, I am.” Cenden whispered.

“So what are you doing to do about it? What are you going to do with your second chance? How are you going to live, now that the Jedi are gone? Why did the Force allow the Jedi to die? Why do the Sith still live? And how does the rest of us fit into it? Why are we alive? What are we here for?” Soron’s eyes locked onto Cenden’s.

“You ask some pretty heavy questions.”

“And I’m sure you’ll be able to help us find heavier answers. Help us find them.” Soron extended his hand towards Cenden.

Cenden hesitated before taking his hand.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve heard anyone talking sense. My name is Cenden Sondron.”

Soron smiled.

“Nice to meet you.”

[bladesurgence]

retribution.

     Brass, Syndra identified. Three parts copper, one part zinc.

     The spear had belonged to some border watchman overseeing these forests the other night. The Placidium must not have put much stock in the training of these patrolmen, else they would never have succumbed to the jaws of a mist panther.

     Must not even have known which way to wield it, Syndra thought, guiding the spear to float through the air and place itself into a spearholder, where it settled horizontally in the grasp of the metal fixture in the center of the room, empty save for a few candles giving Syndra just enough light to inspect it.

     As she raised her hand, the three orbs behind her began to rise, paralleling its motion, and her energy began to manifest in the form of a light purple aura. Pointing it towards the spear, Syndra focused the flow of her mana, and began to concentrate, visualizing the shape of the shaft beginning to curve.

     Syndra had recently discovered that manipulating the form of other objects differed from simply exerting force upon it. Too much force could result in destroying the material; too much pressure and it would implode, rendering it ineffective. But she developed the idea after tailing a couple of Shuriman sheikhs visiting Ionia, mesmerized by the design of their curved scimitars.

     Bending matter, instead of simply smashing through it, could prove very useful.

     Syndra strained, visualizing the composition in her head and the desired result. But despite her concentration, the metal would not bend to her will. She was careful to channel her power to an extent that wouldn’t simply compromise the brass itself. It felt like balancing on a tightrope, slowly advancing forward, but risking the fall if she went too quickly or forced it.

     Come on... bend to me!

     No response. Syndra sighed, diffusing her power and stepping back. Again, then, she thought between deep breaths, stepping into a better lit position. Thrusting her hand out, she began to channel again.

     Her eyes closed, blackness taking over the vivid details of the spear surrounded by its blurry surroundings. She tried to feel the circuits in her body opening, allowing her magic to spill forth uninhibited. The air in the room began to whistle. Syndra paid it no mind, assuming it just part of the effect. Slowly, but surely, she could sense the metal submitting to her power.

     The wind grew faster. Syndra opened her eyes, expecting to witness the fruits of her labor, but only a grey mist greeted her. Her magic extinguished itself; Syndra lowered her hand and raised her shoulders, drawing up to her full height. When the mist cleared, she could make out the fuzzy outline of what she assumed must be a spirit: the tell-tale emerald glow of the undead, a spindly figure with a dark war-helm and holding a spectral spear similar to the one that Syndra had before her. Several spears identical in nature to the one in her hand jutted out of her chest.

     “The Oath-taker,” Syndra realized, standing her ground. She had never betrayed anyone in her life, at least from her perspective, and she stuck to that story.

     Kalista looked around the room, as if looking for souls that Syndra could not see. “Great power radiates from you, sorceress.”

     “As it should. I was - I am in the middle of a magical experiment. What business do you have with me?” Syndra asked.

     “We felt the beckoning of a summons call us to this place.” Kalista looked at her with empty green sockets. “A spear offering. A vortex of deeply committed energy.”

     Syndra waved her hand. “I did not send for you. This undertaking is for my research and mine alone.”

     “Perhaps it is the influence of the Blood Moon,” Kalista mused, after a pause. “There are malignant spirits everywhere. Betrayers and oathbreakers, swindlers of spirit and essence just as there are those of flesh and blood.”

     An idea struck Syndra. “Well, if you aren’t here to destroy me, perhaps you are here to act for me?”

     Kalista gave a slight tilt of her head. “We only act upon the intercession of an Oathsworn. We can see every transgression inflicted upon a person. We know the pain of betrayal, the loss that rends through one’s heartstrings. But you, Sovereign, have already accounted for the betrayer that wronged you.”

     “How can you say that? The Council of Elders sent me to that man. The Council made my magic stagnate under his magic dampening. They tried to prevent me from becoming who I am now!”

     “The Council,” Kalista calmly replied, “was deceived by that man as well.”

     The specter raised her hand, and a luminous fog rose from it. Peering into it, Syndra could make out scenes revolving around her old teacher - his pledge to the Council at the time to instruct her in all the arts as best he could, his first meeting with Syndra, their time studying magic together, the revelation of his dampening. And another scene - her master conspiring with a shrouded figure, in the halls of the Council building.

     “Who is that?” Syndra demanded, pointing to the cloaked figure. “My master still has a conspirator?’

     “It is not our duty to hunt down fringe cases and transitive associations. The spears avenge what has been directly betrayed. We know transgressions, but not the circumstances behind them.”

     “Then... why are you telling me this?”

     Kalista waved her hand, and another vision emerged from the fog. A figure clad in scarlet armor, with a four-pronged blade hovering behind her. Irelia, she recognized. She watched Irelia track down someone across the country, the object of her pursuit always managing to stay one step ahead of her. But she watched how Irelia caught glimpses of them, picking up clues to their identity, until she realized her target as the cloaked figure in her own visions.

     “We do not know. But this one may.”

     “Irelia...” Syndra exhaled. She had not spoken to her friend since Syndra condemned her for enslaving herself to the Council, serving them like a dog.

     “This one has always remained faithful to you, Sovereign, has she not?”

     “She has.” Syndra looked at her fingers, magic crackling from the tips. “Faithful to a fault.”

     It’s time to pay a visit, dear Irie.

[ecoamerica]

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