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queen-scribbles · 3 years ago

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The Long Burning Torch ch 3

Oh, look, another chapter for the 20s AU I started for the @shepherds-of-haven Summer Event, which has taken on a life of its own. In this chapter: A couple new (but familiar!) faces, and the plot thickens.

----

Five minutes into Ashtown proper, Xaeryn was exceedingly grateful for the directions Mr. Syndran had provided. He hadn’t been wrong comparing the place to a warren.

“You look lost, doll.”

Her head snapped up from the paper in her hand to meet the gaze of a lanky man lounging against a wall, a soft cap slouched down over his forehead. His--very familiar--green eyes were much more vivid in person than they had been in her scry.

Xaeryn arched a brow coolly. “And what led you to that conclusion?”

He smirked and pushed away from the wall. “The way you keep checking that paper for one, Sunshine.” His hands slid in his pockets. “Also, we don’t get dames that look like you here all that often. Anything I can help you find?”

“You’re awfully helpful,” Xaeryn said, resisting the urge to run a hand down her outfit.

He doffed his cap and sketched an exaggerated bow, giving her a wink when he righted. “Consider me the Ashtown welcoming committee.”

“And what a charming first impression you make.” Xaeryn regarded him for a moment or two more, then decided to see how things would play out. “I’m trying to find Chase Trinaeste.”

The man’s eyes twinkled, bright as the scarf tossed ‘round his neck. “I think I can help with that. Right this was, Sunshine,” he said blithely, as if he wasn’t the aforementioned Trinaeste himself.

A large part of Mr. Syndran’s adamant belief Thieves guild had been involved in the theft rode on Trinaeste’s presence in her scryed vision. “He trusts his lieutenants with the vast majority of their... jobs,” Mr. Syndran had explained, nose wrinkling slightly in distaste. “His being there shows it was a heist of high importance to their gang, fitting the theft of an artefact.”

Xaeryn had no reason to doubt his logic. But she’d be a fool to show all the cards she held at the outset.

“My name is not ‘sunshine’,” she said briskly instead.

“Well, then, doll, what am I calling ya?” Trinaeste asked, unruffled by her tone.

“Miss Shrike will do for now, I think. And what do I call you?”

“Who says you need to call me anything?” he returned as he led her down several new streets in quick succession.

“It might come in handy if I want to commend your hospitality to Mr. Trinaeste,” she countered, trying her best to memorize their route. Left, left, right...

“I’ll get by, Miss Shrike,” Trinaeste said with a light laugh.

He was very good at dodging, she did have to give him that. “For politeness’ sake, then. Perhaps I’d feel better about following you into the depths of Ashtown if I at least knew your name.”

He laughed again, pausing by a wall decorated with a... creative interpretation of a cat’s head. “Well, then. I have a confession to make, in that case.”

“Oh?” Xaeryn marked the two brunos nearby--one down an alley, the other lounging by a door--despite their affected nonchalance. “And what would that be?”

“Chase Trinaeste at your service.” He skipped the exaggerated bow this time, instead shoving his hands in his pockets, elbows akimbo, and grinning at her cheekily. “Now that you’ve found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

“First thing that comes to mind is ask why we couldn’t have the introductions back where we first spoke?”

“Let’s say I feel safer on home turf, doll. Just in case your reason for wanting me is less fun than I’m hoping.”

She glanced significantly at one of the toughs. “And if this arrangement doesn’t thrill me?”

“You can leave,” Trinaeste said with a shrug. “We ain’t going to stop you.” His grin widened, cat-like. “But you seem the type who doesn’t like leaving empty-handed, Miss Shrike.” He gestured toward the door next to one member of their small audience. “Whatever it is you’re after, I think we’ll be more comfortable in my office, don’t you?”

She doubted he cared between the two locations as strongly as she doubted it was an actual office, but Xaeryn did have to admit some privacy for this conversation would be a good thing. “Do I strike you as the type to just follow strange men into unfamiliar buildings, Mr. Trinaeste?”

He laughed. “A dangerous question, doll. You strike strike me as the type who enjoys a good mystery.”

(Or even a bad one, Xaeryn finished wryly to herself.)

Trinaeste raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “On my honor as head of the guild, I promise you will leave in the same condition and carrying the same things as when you got here, so long as you don’t threaten me or mine.”

“A fair deal,” she said in assent, and nodded toward the door. “After you.”

Red would have a heart attack if he knew what she was doing. She swallowed a laugh at the thought; less than a week reconnected and his reaction was one of the first things to cross her mind. Her gut said it would be a worthwhile risk. While Trinaeste was indisputably a dangerous man, there was a clear sense of ‘only when necessary’ to his skill that gave her confidence she would be fine.

“One more condition,” Trinaeste said as he led the way into the building. “Call me Chase. No idea who ‘Mr. Trinaeste’ is, but he sounds too high-class to be me.”

He’d kowtowed to her chosen address easily enough, and she did want him amenable to talking. She could grin and bear the informality for one conversation. “Very well.”

They didn’t go far from the outer door before Chase swung to the side through another doorway. Xaeryn almost tripped over the abruptness as she followed. There was no desk, or any other typical office furniture save chairs. There were five of those; loosely grouped on one side of the room. Opposite them a stack of shipping crates were shoved against a tapestry-hung wall. It was eclectic and flamboyant and (she’d just bet) full of secrets. A perfect match for the man now flopped in one of the fairly-comfortable looking chairs and grinning at her again.

“So, Miss Shrike, what did you want from me?”

(From the way his eyes twinkled, that phrasing was very much on purpose.)

Xaeryn chose her seat and her reply with equal care; the former so she could see both her host and the door, the latter to convey intent without accusing. Yet. “I’m investigating a theft and have reason to believe you may have seen something helpful.”

Chase laughed. “You think I did it.”

“You do helm the Thieves guild, Chase,” she said lightly, crossing her legs and flicking dust off her hem. So much for trying to be subtle.

“Fair point,” he conceded with another laugh, before leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees and his chin on his palms with still-twinkling eyes. “So, what is it you think we stole?”

“An artefact.”

She was interrupted before giving a description as Chase’s grin went cat-like gain and the twinkle in his eyes shifted to a hard glitter. “Syndran set you on us, didn’t he? What did he lose?”

“Mr. Syndran didn’t lose anything. Transit is a possibility for when a piece was stolen,” Xaeryn said primly. “And while, yes, he may have pointed me in your direction as an avenue of investigation, I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I followed accusations that lacked supporting evidence.”

“Ah, you’re a private dick,” Chase smirked, eyes once again twinkling in amusement. “Tell you what, Miss Shrike, since you bein’ here is bountiful evidence Riel’s people not only dropped the ball, but bad enough he doesn’t want to involve the cops, I’ll tell you whatever you need to help. That being the best news I’ve had this week and all.”

She arched a brow. “Whatever I need?”

He spread his hands. “I’m an open book, doll.”

“Chase!” a new voice scolded. The owner, a slender brunette, paused in the doorway to scowl along with her critique. “You know better than to offer open season on guild secrets like that!”

“Calm down, Ari.” Chase slouched back, waving one hand in Xaeryn’s direction. “Our guest seems a smart enough dame to not ask for more than she needs.” That glimpse of danger was back under the last word.

“I’m not after your secrets,” Xaeryn promised. “Just trying to find a missing artefact.”

“And what artefact would that be?” Ari asked, still wary, and still poised in the doorway. Xaeryn noted but didn’t comment on the jangling stack of bracelets that sheathed a good three inches of the other woman’s wrist.

“A pendent, this big.” she indicated the size. “Black stone and bronze.”

“Wasn’t us,” Chase said easily.

“You were witnessed along the transport caravan’ route.”

“Oh, we were casing it,” he acknowledged with a wink.

“Chase!”

He just grinned at Ari’s beratement. “We didn’t steal anything, though. Couldn’t get a good shot at what we were supposed to nick.”

“Supposed to?” Xaeryn interjected. “So this is something you were contracted to steal rather than...” She waffled a moment over word choice, “...personal?”

“Yeah. Like I said, though, we didn’t get anything.” Chase shrugged. “Just as well; our butter and egg man never showed his face after.”

“Hm.” Xaeryn made a mental note to look into how popular a target the caravan had become. “Did you notice anyone else who seemed to be casing it? Aside from your people?”

“N-” Chase’s brow furrowed and he stopped mid-negative reply. “There was that one mug Kato saw right before the trucks made the museum lot. Don’t have anything more than ‘foreign-looking’ and green hair, and he didn’t see where he went, just was a little too casual in his loitering, gave Kato an odd impression.”

It wasn’t a lead solid enough for her to really follow, but it did seem confirmation multiple parties were interested in the caravan. “I see. And what was your... client after?”

“That’s not something you need to know,” Ari said firmly.

“Knowing what else was and might yet be targeted will help my investigation, so I would have to disagree,” Xaeryn said just as firmly. “I’m not going to rat you out, in fact I plan to tell Mr. Syndran you were not responsible. But this information could be useful. Please.”

“A necklace. Gold, rubies, opals; sounded worth a pretty lyss,” Chase said, turning to flash a grin at Ari. “She did say please.”

Ari sighed but didn’t protest.

“Alright I’ll be getting out of your hair, then.” Xaeryn stood, smoothing her skirt. “I appreciate your talking to me, It was enlightening.”

She held out a hand to shake, and Chase kissed the back of it instead, shooting her a wink as she rolled her eyes. “Not a problem, Miss Shrike. Good luck catching your bad guys.”

Xaeryn couldn’t help a small chuckle at the comment as she withdrew her hand and headed for the door. She half-expected to be blocked from exiting, but that proved unfounded. She retraced the route to the edge of the Ashtown district, then headed for her office to call Mr. Syndran just as it started to rain.

---

Her call to update Mr. Syndran went about as well as it could; he was disappointed Thieves guild hadn’t panned out as a lead--Xaeryn detected some personal disappointment as well as professional they weren’t responsible. “Do you have anything beyond their word they didn’t do it?”

“No,” Xaeryn said, leaning forward over her desk to skim her notes as they talked. “Well... their word and a gut feeling they were being level.” Which is all I really have that you aren’t responsible. She was polite--and wise--enough to not make the comparison. “They were hardly going to let me search their warehouse.”

“So what’s your next step? There’s not long until the exhibit opens, and I dislike the number of dead ends you’ve encountered.”

“Oh, I’m not happy about them, either, believe me.” Xaeryn pursed her lips and fought to keep a sharp note out of her voice at his implied censure. “Next is talking to the curator at the Hall. They may have seen this green-haired foreigner Thieves guild mentioned, or something else suspicious that didn’t show when I scryed. Either way, I can get more information about the exhibit and the pendent’s owner.”

Mr. Syndran sighed. “I highly doubt this convenient and vague ‘foreigner’ exists as anything other than a red herring to lead you away from the Thieves guild, but your other goals are sound. Let me know what you learn, if anything.”

“Of course.” They exchanged farewells and hung up. Rain still pattered against the window, and a quiet growl from her stomach reminded Xaeryn she was overdue for lunch, so she bumped back calling the Hall in favor of a quick bite to eat.

And it was quick; she loved mysteries but hated being stymied at every turn like this case had done. She wanted a workable lead. While she agreed with Mr. Syndran the ‘foreigner’ was too vague to pursue on his own, green hair was far from common in Haven, even in the Mage community. If someone else made mention or he was spotted later, it wouldn’t be hard to connect the sightings. For now, she’d call the museum, speak to the curator. Hopefully that would get her somewhere.

The secretary who answered her call sounded both bored and frazzled, which Xaeryn found impressive. “Haven Hall of History and Culture, how may I help you?”

“My name’s Xaeryn Shrike, I wanted to speak to the curator about-”

“Ms. Acquell is very busy,” the receptionist cut her off. “We have an exhibit opening in just over a week, she doesn’t have time for meetings with random curiosity seekers or history aficionados right now.”

Xaeryn let a bit of edge color her voice. “I’m a private detective Mr. Syndran hired in regard to the artefact caravan.”

A long pause, the line crackling with silence, then, “Can you be here in half an hour? I’m sure she can clear some space in her schedule, though there may be bit of a wait.”

I thought you might say that. “I can. Thank you.”

“Very well.” The secretary hung up.

Xaeryn arched a brow at the receiver before she placed it back in the cradle. “See you shortly,” she muttered. Wonderful attitude for someone in such a socially involved position. She glanced out the window and was gratified to find the rain slacking off. She’d still drive, of course, but it would be less of a headache.

Xaeryn cleaned up from her lunch, gave her outfit a quick check to ensure it was still presentable after her visit to Ashtown and the Merchants Guild garage, and tucked her notepad back in her handbag before tugging on a hat and heading out the door.

The drive to the museum was uneventful aside from a couple pot holes and a pedestrian chasing his umbrella into the street with nary a regard for traffic. Still, Xaeryn did arrive in one piece. A determined breeze tugged at her as she made her way up the steps, and she almost dropped her handbag in her instinctive grab to hold her hat on.

It’s pinned, you silly goose, she chided herself ruefully, and brushed drizzle off her clothes as she stepped inside. She exchanged a brief conversation--light on pleasantries--with the receptionist,and was waved toward one of the long cultural wings to wait for when Curator Acquell found a moment to speak with her. She perched on a bench that sat between a statue of the first High Augar and a glass case displaying a map of the known world at the time. At this hour and with this weather, there weren’t many other people, and the gallery was mostly quiet.

Ample opportunity for Xaeryn to ruminate on the irony her chosen seat appeared to be smack in the middle of an exhibit on the Castigation, or one of the uprisings that followed. At least, if the painting across from her was anything to go by; a group of determined Norms gripping pistols as they surrounded a cluster of bloodied but unyielding Hunters whose hands glowed with grace as they clung to their weapons...

Xaeryn shook her head and very deliberately focused on reading her notes.

---

It took half an hour--closer to three-quarters--and Xaeryn had switched to roaming the gallery to take in the sights before a short, bespectacled blonde approached.

She hesitated briefly but noticeably before clearing her throat. “Are you... Miss Shrike?”

Xaeryn nodded and held out a hand to shake. “And you would be the curator?”

The blonde bobbed her head as she shook her hand. “Shery Acquell. I’m so very sorry about the wait.” She smoothed a hand down her rumpled brown and pink dress. “We’re terribly busy trying to get the new exhibit together.” She bit her lip. “Or, as together as we can get it, at least.”

“That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about,” Xaeryn said. “But I think it’s something better discussed away from potential prying eyes and ears.”

“Oh, right, of course.” Miss Acquell briefly clasped her hands in front of her and bit her lip. “This way.” She gestured to a door. “We can speak in the Cultures of Blest wing if you don’t mind dodging crates and museum staff?”

“Not at all,” Xaeryn said as she followed the other woman through the indicated door. Getting to see behind the scenes of a museum exhibit was the opposite of an inconvenience, to her mind.

“It’s not terribly exciting, I’m afraid; lots of boxes and dust and swapping things around until you find the right arrangement. But I think we can find somewhere to talk. My office is a mess right now, or we could just go there.”

“It’s fine,” Xaeryn assured her. “A little dust won’t kill me. I dress practical for that very reason; no telling where an investigation will take me.”

“OH, that’s... smart.” Miss Acquell fiddled with her glasses and inclined her head toward an empty display pedestal. “That’s where the pendent will go, assuming it’s back before the exhibit opens.” Her face went red and she winced apologetically. “N-Not that I doubt your skill as a detective, Miss Shrike, it just seems to have vanished into thin air, and, well....” She half shrugged and let the words trail off.

“I’ve definitely hit enough dead ends for the comparison to be apt,” Xaeryn said, swallowing the spike of defensiveness to keep her tone level as she peeked at the other artefacts in the case. A belt with a snake-head buckle, a silver circlet set with a single moonstone, an ornately carved hair comb, a silver ring that resembled a basilisk eating its own tail. At least one item hummed quietly with magic of some kind, but enchantment and binding weren’t her forte, so Xaeryn couldn’t tell which. “So, to confirm, how long did the shipment sit before you and your staff started opening crates?”

“Oh, an hour?” Miss Acquell bit her lip. “Maybe two, at most? There was a... small kerfuffle in the art wing; some unruly children, and we didn’t get to the crates until that was settled. But there was a watchman outside and one in the museum, neither of them reported seeing anyone.” She played with her necklace. “As well as a Whitestone Couriers representative. Pink-haired young lady, very irate by the time I spoke to her, though that is understandable, with how long we kept her waiting.”

“Did you not have enough staff for someone to take care of the artefacts while others handled the... disturbance?”

“Normally we would have.” Miss Acquell stepped into a small alcove to move their conversation out of the way for the six or so staffers busily yet carefully removing things from crates to arrange in various displays. “But it was a lightly staffed day--Thursdays are usually slow--and I had a couple people who didn’t come in. We weren’t able to find anyone who could cover their shifts, so we were running a bit short.”

With Ms. Aerin keeping an eye on the artefacts once they reached the museum, it was no wonder Mr. Syndran was so convinced a potential theft would have occurred during transit. “What do you know about the pendent, Solimer’s torch? I’ve learn some things of its history, but what of more recent years? The last century or so?”

“A little,” Miss Acquell said, flicking a nervous glance to the side as a pair of workers fumbled the statue they were shifting. “The last century is a bit... muddy for that pendent. It’s changed hands several times, several people have made claims, few have been able to back them up. The current owner, Ms. Aescar, has the strongest claim. She can trace ancestry to the last known owner of the pendent.”

“Prior to the cheiftain of debated identity with whom it was rediscovered?”

She nodded. “Yes. The others who have tried to stake ownership claim ties to the debated chieftain, or the original tribe, or the first to conquer them, but none have ever clearly proven a connection like Ms. Aescar. And if they could, it turns into a debate predicated largely on the intricacies of right of conquest for who has the strongest claim.” She hesitated, wrung her hands. “There are some in the historical community--niche as this piece may be--who... feel it would almost be better if no further claims are validated. I-If someone can contest Ms. Aescar’s ownership, the pendent has to go in a vault until true provenance can be determined. Which means no one can display it....”

“And that process can take a very long time,” Xaeryn finished for her. It was an issue she’d run into a couple times during her years at Solhadur; an artefact she was researching was hard to get clear information about because three people had equally strong claims and it was tied up in the arbitration.

“Yes, it can.” Miss Acquell pursed her lips and looked back at the intended display. “For now, though, Ms. Aescar has a very open policy for lending it out. Far fewer requested protective measures than most. It’s as if...” she paused, brow furrowing for a moment, “as if she doesn’t really care what happens to it.”

Interesting. “Do you have her contact information? I’d like to speak with her if I could,”

“I do.” Miss Acquell nodded vigorously. “It’s in my office, so I’ll need a minute to dig it out.”

“No hurry,” Xaeryn said. “Are those watchmen here today by any chance? Accommodating as your staff has been with my other earlier inquiries, I haven’t gotten to talk to them yet.”

The curator, who had started for a nearby hall, paused and bit her lip again as she thought. “Theo is,” she finally said. “He was watching the outside lot that day. Today I think he’s in the exhibit on Norm innovation? But I can’t remember for sure. The schedule’s also in my office, I can check while I’m getting Ms. Aescar’s information.”

“Alright, I can wait.”

“Feel free to look around.” Miss Acquell waved a hand toward the progressing displays. “Just don’t touch anything? Some things would survive, but others are too fragile.”

“I generally avoid disturbing museum exhibits,” Xaeryn assured her. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

With a final nod and small nervous smile, Miss Acquell scurried off down the hall. From the way she’d talked about her office, Xaeryn gathered this might take more than a few minutes. She wandered through the half-assembled exhibits and display cases, careful to keep enough distance she didn’t disturb the staff or risk damaging anything.

A small smile curved her lips when she caught sight of a necklace--complete with matching cuff bracelets and a diadem--that fit the description of what Chase claimed his guild had been hired to steal. That backed his story up, at least. There was a placard declaring they had belonged to a Queen-Consort from Karzai once upon a time.

Xaeryn was engrossed in reading a Kettish tablet when Miss Acquell returned, and it took a moment to register her presence. In fact, it wasn’t until the curator cleared her throat timidly that Xaeryn’s focus was broken and she swung around.

“Sorry. This sort of thing is a passion of mine,” she explained. “Very easy to slip off to my own little world when I get a chance to indulge.”

“I understand,” Miss Acquell said with a faint smile. “I can be the same, when I get lost in my work. Here’s Ms. Aescar’s information” --she held out a small piece of note paper--”though I should warn you it’s for her estate out near the Jalis desert and she’s apparently not home much? Bit of an adventuress, away for weeks at a time without word of how long she’ll be gone. I’m honestly not sure if we’ve managed to contact her yet to tell her the pendent’s missing.”

“Thanks for the warning, both of them.” Xaeryn slipped the paper in her handbag after checking the legibility. “I’ll keep them in mind.”

“Theo is up in the innovations exhibit, if you want to speak with him.”

“Oh, I very much do. And if something comes up and I need to talk to you again, do you have daily office hours?”

Miss Acquell nodded, then blushed. “Oh, except... except Sunday,” she amended. “I-I have church.”

“Won’t be a problem, so do I.” Normally not a detail Xaeryn shared with strangers, but the woman seemed braced for blowback to the statement.

Her face lit up with the revelation, so it was apparently a good call. “Oh, really? Where do you go?”

“The Whitestone Cathedral,” Xaeryn said. She liked the crowds, the ability to simply sit in the back, worship, and slip out before too many people even noticed she was there and tried to be chummy.

“Oh, that one’s too big for me,” Miss Acquell blurted with a bashful laugh. “I go to the chapel over by the docks.”

“I know it,” Xaeryn said with a nod. She’d had a couple cases over that way. “Thank you very much for all your help, Miss Acquell. This visit has been very informative.”

“I’m glad to have been of help, and you can just call me Shery.” She held out a hand to shake farewell.

“Goodbye, then, Shery. And good luck setting up your exhibit.” Xaeryn shook her hand then headed off following signage toward the exhibit where this guard Theo was posted. She had some rather burning questions to ask him.

---

Her conversation with Theo held mixed success. His memory was fuzzy, which Xaeryn had expected after the time that had passed. He did remember some loiterers, but they were all far enough away from the lot he couldn’t discern features. One or two may have come across as “too casual” with hindsight, but he hadn’t clocked them as suspicious and thus hadn’t paid much mind in the moment. No accounting for street hooligans and how they spent their time, right? One might have had green hair, but they were wearing hats, and “like I said, I wasn’t payin’ much heed, Miss Lady Detective,” so he couldn’t swear by it.

With that tenuous connection possibly made slightly less tenuous, and a much-increased desire to speak with the elusive Ms. Aescar, Xaeryn wandered the museum a bit--might as well; she was here and it would help her think--before heading back out to her car.

“Ladies first,” a dark haired gentleman said, holding the front door open for her and allowing her to precede him down the steps.

Xaeryn nodded and flashed a brief smile of courteous thanks for his chivalry, noting he headed for a gleaming, high-end motorcar, black with red accents, that made hers look dingy. Bet it’s a nightmare to keep that fancy, she thought, paying the man no further mind. She started her car and flicked on the headlights to counter the settling dim of evening as she pulled away.

With her thoughts split between the road and mulling over the case, it took a few turns for her to notice a pair of headlights that appeared to be following the same route she was. That wasn’t terribly unusual, but the fact they were deliberately keeping back was. Tricky as surreptitious glances in a motorcar could be, Xaeryn managed one the next time she had to stop for traffic. Just as her... friend passed under a streetlight.

Black car, with red accents.

Gooseflesh prickled up her arms, and she shifted her planned route home to one with sparse enough traffic covert pursuit would be impossible. Two turns into the new path, her tail must have picked up on her plan and lammed off down a side street. Xaeryn wondered if he thought he was being subtle, and kept a careful eye out the rest of the way back. Despite not seeing any further tails, she remained on guard until she turned the key in her office door, slipped in, and locked it behind her.

“Intriguing development,” she murmured to the empty room as she unpinned her hat. And an interesting end to a very full day. Xaeryn sat wearily at her desk and kicked off her shoes. Even choosing comfort over style, her feet were sore from all the walking. Merchants’ Guild, Ashtown, the Hall... and barely a chance to sit all day. She returned her notepad to the desk drawer and locked it again, but left the stiletto blade in her handbag. She’d likely need it tomorrow anyway. Particularly if it was anywhere near as busy as today.

Busy enough to have missed any telephone calls that came while I was gadding about. Normally while already on a case, that would bother her less, but Red had said he’d call if he learned anything new. She’d hate to be missing information that could help the case, she mused, flicking a glance from the telephone to the clock on her wall. Hopefully this wasn’t too late for her to call him. She dug her notepad back out and flipped through the pages until she reached the section in Red’s sprawling shorthand. There, on the back of a previous page, tucked in the corner like a random doodle, was his office telephone number. Xaeryn smiled at the close resemblance of his eights and zeroes, but knew her own ones and sevens weren’t much better.

After only a brief moment of further hesitation, she pulled the telephone closer and started dialing. It wasn’t that late.

It was answered on the third ring, a slightly breathless, “Hello?”

“Liefred?”

“Xaeryn.” There was a note of surprise in his voice.

“Got it in one, smart man.” But I knew that.

He laughed. “Not that hard; you’re just about the only one who insists on calling me that, even if you don’t need to.” There was a small creak that conjured mental images of him leaning against the desk or slouched in his chair. “Everything alright? Did you need something?”

“Other way ‘round, actually.” Xaeryn fiddled with her notepad. “I’ve had a busy day and it occurred I wasn’t here much if you’d called, so I thought I’d check.”

“There are these people called secretaries, Xaeryn,” Red teased. “You might look into hiring one of them.”

“I know, I know.” She snorted softly. “Especially since most people don’t have your genial reaction to me missing their calls...”

“Most people haven’t known you since you were a gangly fourteen year old trying to cram yourself in the library loft to read in peace, either,” he said warmly. “I know how focused you get. And nothing new, I’m afraid. I got stuck lecturing first-years all day.”

“And you survived,” Xaeryn laughed, curling her toes in and out when they started to cramp.

“Barely,” Red said with a rueful laugh(she’d bet he was running a hand through his hair). “And that despite their best efforts.”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to stick around,” she said, only half-joking.

“Smart woman,” he deadpanned. “But I knew that already.”

Flatterer. It sounded coy and thus stayed in her head, replaced with an equally joking, “I won’t guest lecture, before you ask.”

“Damn,” he said lightly, “At any rate, I’m sorry I don’t have more yet-”

“Don’t apologize,” she cut him off. “I wasn’t expecting anything. Only checking. Just in case. Your responsibilities come first and they kept you busy today. I had plenty of other leads to chase today.”

“Where did they take you?” Red asked. “You mentioned being busy...”

“Merchants’ Guild to start. Then Ashtown-”

“Xaeryn.” His voice was already bristling worry.

“--to talk to Thieves’ guild.”

“Alone?! Ryn-” Red huffed a sigh of exasperated, retroactive concern and she bit back a laugh at how well she’d pegged his reaction. “Do you... take risks like that often?”

“Only when I need to,” she said carefully. Wouldn’t be mentioning the tail on her way home, then. “I know how to handle myself, Liefred. I was polite, we talked, I left. It was fine.”

A long moment of silence. “If you say so.” He didn’t sound completely convinced. (She decided not to tell him her office-apartment sat right by the boundary between Astown and Smoketown) “What else?”

“Just the Hall of History and Culture to speak with the curator.” She shifted in her chair. “That one took a while, but I got some good information to follow up tomorrow.”

“Best of luck with that, and... be careful?”

Xaeryn smiled fondly, unsure whether or not to hope it carried into her voice. “As I can be.” A beat, then she added lightly, “I’d hate to wind up a cautionary tale in one of your lectures, Headmaster.”

“Xaeryn.” She could practically see him trying to glower at her(and failing; Red couldn’t be that mean) through the telephone. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” And I appreciate it. She sobered her tone to match his. “But my line of work comes with risks sometimes.The best I can do is promise not to exacerbate them.”

“I’ll take it,” Red said softly, then was quiet a long moment. “I should let you go; it sounds like you have another busy day tomorrow?”

“I do.” She’d still stay up til midnight talking to him in a heartbeat, but, “and you probably need to recover from this one.”

“Mm. I get to do it again tomorrow, too,” he said glibly.

Xaeryn laughed. “I’ll keep you in my thoughts,” she said with mock solemnity “Good luck to you, as well, in that case.”

“Thank you, I’ll need it,” Red chuckled softly. “Goodnight, Xaeryn.”

“Goodnight, Liefred.”

She stared at the telephone a long moment after hanging up, smile curling her lips, before pushing out of the chair. After a day like this, she needed dinner, a hot bath, and a good night’s sleep. In that order.

She still double checked the door was locked before turning in.

----

(what you don’t see, bc I stuck with Ryn POV, is Pan was in Red’s office with him when she called. :3 Cue Pan promptly batting his eyelashes, making exaggerated lovestruck faces, and generally being a little shit bc He Knows, while Red’s gesturing for Pan to GET OUT of his office. and trying to get him to listen without actually talking so Ryn doesn’t know someone’s there(he doesn’t know why he doesn’t want her knowing that, he just doesn’t). Pan finally relents but hangs in the hallway til they’re done and comes back in with the biggest shit-eating grin “You’re still stuck on her, aren’t you?” Red, groaning and burying his face in his hands: “Pan, close your head, PLEASE. yes”)

#queens fic #shoh #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #chase trinaeste #shery acquell #tlbt #ryn/red

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percabethfiles · 4 years ago

Text

Charlie

Uh... Hello? Anybody still here? I haven't been around in years and years. But I keep my fandoms stored in some corner of my brain waiting for something to tug them out. And of all things this time it was Taylor Swift re-releasing her old songs, because I used to imagine so many percabeth scenes listening to "Fearless". So have this little something that's been sitting unfinished in my archives for years now.

Remember that time Percy saw Sadie Kane and thought “Hey, this is what mine and Annabeth’s daughter would look like”? Yes.

(Also there are small nods to that fic I wrote about Logan, Hidden Heritage, but I've been meaning to re-write it someday because there were SO MANY PLOT HOLES omg)

When they find out it’s a girl it’s a bit too soon to know for sure, or so the doctor tells them. They’ll have to wait for the next appointment to know for certain. “So don’t go buying any tiny dresses yet,” he jokes and they laugh along, but they’ve been together for approximately eighteen years now, they can tell what the other’s thinking with a glance and the ecstatic grin that breaks through their lips lets him know they’re on the same page. Too late. They’re already thinking plush bow and arrows and a Merida costume for her first Halloween.

Percy tries to keep his cool. As the weeks progress, he tries not to get his hopes up, but in his heart he knows already. They hadn’t really had a preference before, they’d been too happy knowing their baby was fully human and had all its limbs (with the number of deities they’d pissed off, you never knew), but a little girl? It feels right after their two boys, it feels like their family will be complete.

(He thinks about a slight blonde girl with streaked hair and a British accent dropping from the sky on a magic camel, remembers thinking “if Annabeth and I had a daughter…” and his chest squeezes tight with happiness so raw he has a little trouble breathing)

When the doctor beams at them next appointment and says “Congratulations, Jackson family, it really is a girl,” he’s not surprised, but no less elated. He doesn’t hear the lame joke about Jackson Five, he’s too busy trying to be a manly man and not burst into tears because he’s going to have a daughter. When Annabeth’s in the other room paying for the appointment, and he’s waiting for the doctor to print the really impressive high tech 3D picture of the ultrasound, the man asks him “So did you go ahead and buy a tiny dress anyway?”

Percy blushes.

The man shakes his head in amusement. “Every time”.

His work colleagues, proud dads of little girls themselves, try to terrorize him with tales of tea parties and future boyfriends, and Percy thinks somewhere in the middle of all that teasing they mean well, but really, he’s mostly annoyed. It’s not like he’s new to parenthood, he’s got two sons already and they seem to be turning out okay, and before, when Logan and Nathan were just a nice dream for the future, there was Estelle, the little sister Percy had never expected, but loved to bits all the same.

And then Charlie is born.

She’s tiny, warm and pink, all curled up in her yellow cable-knit blanket, a tuft of blonde hair peeking out of a tiny, tiny beanie, features scrunched into the most adorable variation of a grumpy face. He’s not new to parenthood, he’s been here twice before, but the rush of affection and protectiveness and awe and raw love is just as genuine. He’s smiling like a dork, can’t seem to stop, walking from side to side, avidly searching her traits. She’s bigger than Nate was when he’d been born, but smaller than Logan. Her hair was light, like Nate’s, would it stay blonde or darken with time? Would her eyes be like his or Annabeth��s? And oh, she had her mother’s nose (they all did).

It never fails to amaze him how such a small, vulnerable being can shake up his whole world until it’s made a space for her. And he’s done this before, he’s no first time sailor this time, he’d thought he had it all under control. But she blinks and looks up at him with half-lidded eyes and a frowny face and—they’re green. Her eyes are the blue-green Logan’s are, Percy’s are.

(He’s got two sons who are his life, and he does love all his children equally, but holding his daughter for the first time, he thinks he understands his friends’ warnings. He doesn’t love her more, it’s just… different. It’s special.)

When he goes back to work, Nick takes one look at him and bursts into laughter. He claps him on the shoulder in commiseration.

“I told you.”

He’s completely wrapped around her finger already.

It’s not too different, he finds out. Especially having been pre-trained by Estelle. He’s got to brush up on his Disney princess knowledge, and hair braiding skills. He hasn’t gotten much better at color coordinating the polka dotted bows and tiny shoes, but Charlie is really forgiving. She is a very happy baby, much happier and easy going than any of the boys had been.

She’s also fucking crazy.

She is smaller and skinnier than her brothers, likes to wear frilly dresses and talk to plush animals and dance around the house in a pink tutu, but she’s wild. She never learned to crawl, just held on to the couch until she was wobbling on two feet, and it seemed like the very next day she was running across the house, the mall, the park, and if he turned his eyes away for one second, she was shooting off in the streets and nearly getting run over.

He’d found her dangling from the kitchen cabinets, trying to reach the cowering cat. She had a phase when she thought she could fly and she would climb furniture and stairs and the window sill and just… Launch herself into the air expecting her flying powers to manifest spontaneously. If they hadn’t been trying to raise them away from the whole mythological world, he would have sat her down and clarified that she had the wrong Olympian Grandparent in mind. She might have had more luck jumping into the ocean.

She had a way to jut out her lower lip, and turn those big green eyes on him that could render his every effort to be a responsible parental presence useless.

Besides, she was so funny. He could never muster enough anger to discipline her, because if he found her on the kitchen table covered in peanut butter, somehow sporting a very sticky Mohawk, and looking entirely unapologetic, well, he just couldn’t stop laughing.

One day he’s coming home from work and he hasn’t even pulled the key from the lock when Charlie calls out ‘you’re back daddy,’ in what sounds vaguely like a new jersey accent. He finds her sitting on the floor of the living room, drowning in one of Annabeth’s bathrobes, pink plastic barbie sunglasses on, holding a pooh bear sippy cup with one hand and a pinky stretched out.

“Charlie, what are you doing?”

“It’s wine Wednesday, daddy.”

“It’s what?”

“Wine Wednesday.”

He had half a mind to check if her sippy cup actually contained wine because they hid their alcohol way up in the cabinets she can’t reach but that girl could climb like a monkey. He knows he should follow that remark up with some kind of questioning of where she’d even heard of ‘wine Wednesdays’ and then explain that kids don’t drink wine or some other kind of responsible parent speech, but a sudden burst of incredulous laughter bubbles up in his throat and he takes refuge in the kitchen, lest he encourages her behavior.

He finds Annabeth there, hand over her mouth, clearly in stitches over their daughter’s performance. He wants to question if she gave her permission to wear her bathrobe but finding his wife nearly doubled over in silent laughter in the kitchen is too much and he finally lets out the guffaw he’d been trying to hold on to.

It’s not the first time Charlie leaves them breathless with laughter, and he’s almost scared of what she’s going to cook up in the future.

Charlie is a hellion.

There isn’t one person safe from her pranks, but she’s so adorable she hardly ever catches hell for it, and she’s learning to use it in her favor – thankfully, just in time for her parents to develop immunity to her puppy eyes. And she’s… difficult, yes, but not always, and not in a terrible way. For all her climbing the roof, organizing illegal cookie sales, getting in fights with her classmates, she’s not a bad kid. She’s got Percy’s penchant for befriending the kids no one wants to go near, and defending her ragtag team of losers. She’s loyal to a fault, and it gets her in trouble often.

She and Nate have epic jealousy fights over everything, including – but not limited to – Logan’s attention, the crayons, the biggest piece of cake and all the videogame characters in the world are not enough, they will always want whatever the other picked. It gives them many, many headaches. Logan, on the other hand, positively spoils her, and whenever Charlie gets in trouble they can be sure to find her hiding behind her big brother while he gives them this solemn look and says “It’s ok, mom and dad, Charlie promises she won’t do it again. We’ve talked.”

When the whole “Logan being attacked by a dracanae in school and thus finding out his Olympian heritage” debacle came to pass, and they started frequenting camp again, there was nowhere in the entire Camp Charlie would rather be than the stables. She’d spend hours there with the Aphrodite kids, brushing the pegasi and talking to them endlessly about all her classmates and her friends, and her dolls, and her new dress, and the new book grandma gave her. It was all really cute until Percy realized the pegasi were talking back, and she fully understood their replies.

And it’s funny, really, because Logan had taken after Percy, to a point where bathing him had been hard as a child because he tended to stay dry in the tub, and Nathan was Annabeth to a T, but Charlie was a perfect mix of them both.

He guesses it makes sense it would be so explosive.

When Charlie is twelve, she gets kicked out of school.

Percy is not overly worried about it himself – the number of schools he’d been kicked out of reached double digits, and this was only her first – but he is worried about how she will feel. Getting the boot from a place that’s housed you for years, where your friends are, where everyone already knows you and having to start over is never pleasant, no matter how used to it you were.

He’d expected the school to have gotten tired of all her pranks and misbehaving, which was fair, he guessed. But when Annabeth comes home from the meeting with the school director, she is seething, and not at their daughter. Charlie is angry too. In fact, it’s the first time he’s ever seen his daughter well and truly pissed off. The two of them are a sight for nightmares, both blondes standing side by side ranting with righteous fury, they look ready to start a revolution. What he gets from her angry snarls and Charlie’s rushed rambling is that Charlie had talked back to a teacher that was picking on the autistic kid and demeaning the thirteen year old who was repeating sixth grade.

She’d called him a brain-washing small minded overgrown bully who, he was quoting, didn’t get enough love from his parents.

And Percy is so proud his eyes even get a little misty.

Because he’s getting old and sentimental and raising kids is very hard. No one knows what they’re doing, not one person, not even the fancy psychologists with those books on raising perfect, well rounded, high-achieving members of society that Annabeth insisted on reading when she was pregnant with Logan. You do your best and you hope for the best, and you don’t know what you get until it’s basically too late to do anything about it. And even if he did have the best mom in the history of the entire world to draw example from, he was also half of an absent Olympian father whose heritage condemned him to dance in and out of battlefields half his life.

He’s always been terrified of being a crap father.

He looks at Charlie cussing out with every mild version of actual cuss words, stalking around the kitchen like a little lioness in a cage, furious at the unfairness of the whole situation, caring less about being expelled and more about who was going to defend her friends from that awful teacher when she’s gone.

His daughter is only twelve, but she’s already so brave, such a force of nature. She won’t stand for injustice, and she won’t take insult lying down. And she’s so kind. She’s growing up, and the person she is slowly turning out to be… is good.

And something in his heart shifts and settles down, smooths over old fears and anxious thoughts.

Percy doesn’t mean to brag, but he thinks he’s not doing half bad as a parent.

#fanfic #pjo #percabeth #percabeth kids #charlie jackson #back at it again with the old unfinished fics #percabeth fanfic

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justalarryblog · 4 years ago

Text

📄 Hometown by @allwaswell16 (2k) | Not Rated

On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

📄 Overkill by @fivesecondsofmae (4k) | Explicit

Louis was never going to get over how fucking attractive Harry was. How glorious his big, tall, curvy body was. The feeling of Harry behind him, hot and heavy, trapped on the tube after they’d been somewhere during rush hour. His thick hands, full of pretty rings sometimes, handing Louis a cup of coffee, then getting one for himself.

Or Louis and Chubby!Harry are as close as best mates can be and clearly are in love. Time to take it to the next level.

Top!Harry smut and fluff.

📄 New Places, New Possibilities by orphan_account (12k) | Explicit

Harry has always longed for Louis from afar, never sure exactly what Louis wanted, or if they could even have what they wanted. Even though Louis would sneak into Harry’s bed every chance he could, they’d never gone further than cuddles and innocent kisses. But when the boys are finally away from home on their first visit to LA, things finally begin to change.

📄 In All Its Imperfections by @BriaMaria (15k) | Explicit

From: Louis Tomlinson

To: Undisclosed Recipients

Hello!

I’ve asked the front desk and you lovely folks are the ones who are on the same level as me in the car park. I found a to-do list today that looked somewhat important because it has lines of poetry scribbled at the bottom that seemed like they might be for a card project. The stationary has a moose in a canoe at the top of it (and he is quite adorable). Let me know if it’s yours!

Cheers!

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Harry whispered, his eyes darting over the sentences again willing them not to make sense. They did, they did make sense. “Oh. My. Bloody. Fucking. God.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with a very concerned Liam hovering over his head.

“What happened, mate?” Liam asked.

Harry just pointed to his computer.

Liam bent over Harry’s desk to read the email. “What? This isn’t bad. Is that your to-do list? Did you finally come up with the inside text for those cards?”

“Leeyum" he groaned. “It’s what’s on the list.”

“Oh,” Liam paused for a beat. “Is it dirty stuff?”

Harry nodded.

There was more silence. And then, “Dirty stuff with Louis?”

📄 If We Have Each Other by @pocketsunshineharry / ishiplouis (23k) | Mature

“When are you going to accept my offer to go out again? It’s been seven years and you’re still saying no to a fun night?” Niall complains.

“A night in with Mads is a fun night for me Ni, I already told you that.” Harry responds while serving a customer.

“You’re infuriating, I just want my best friend to go out with me tonight, is it too much to ask?” Niall pouts but all Harry does is chuckle and prepare the coffee machine for the double espresso the customer ordered.

“Playing the victim, are we now?” Harry is so used to Niall’s techniques. “Well, I have good news for you, Maddie is having a sleepover at one of her friends so tonight so I’m all yours.”

OR AU where Harry is a single father and a one-night stand is going to change his life forever.

📄 In Dreams by @dolce_piccante (23k) | Mature

AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

📄 Love Is on The Radio by @whatevertearsyou / perfectdagger (sincerelyste), @star_k (35k) | Explicit

“So Louis, who’s the lucky person that will not only get to see Arsenal and Manchester United facing each other, but will also possibly become your girlfriend… or boyfriend? I mean, that’s a good catch, to ask someone out like this on the radio. It will be hard to say no after this.”

“It’s, hm, his name is…” Oh boy, Harry was about to pass out, he couldn’t bear to hear what Louis would say. Susie was looking at him, worried eyes watching him from the till as she noticed that Harry had simply abandoned his cupcake duties. “Harry. Harry Styles.”

To win a pair of tickets to watch Manchester United playing, Louis may have possibly lied to Nick Grimshaw on the BBC Radio 1 Breakfast Show, asking Harry, his best friend, to be his boyfriend. Problem is - Harry has always been in love with Louis and so, this Valentine’s he’s gonna see his dreams come true, with a tiny bit of a twist, in order to watch the football team they have loved together since they were kids.

📄 That’s What I’m Here For by @taggiecb (46k) | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson is a dairy farmer on a tiny farm in eastern Canada. His wife of nearly thirty years has left him and his children are all grown up and out of the house. Louis needs help running his business but has no idea where to even start looking. Luckily for him his children know just the man for the job.

Part 1 of Grace, Too

📄 Pinkies Never Lie by @alltheselights (83k) | Explicit

“I just think if we’re both into it and neither of us is looking for something serious, why not?” Harry asks, eyes soft and voice sweet. He pauses and gives Louis a moment or two to answer.

There are countless reasons why Louis shouldn’t agree to this, but in the end, none of them really matter. This will end with Louis in pieces, but he’s been in love with Harry for four years. There was only ever one answer.

“Yeah,” Louis answers finally, hoping his voice sounds normal. “Why not?”

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

Part 1 of Pinkies Never Lie

📄 Dress you up in my love by @LucyStarkid (103k) | Explicit

Harry is single, and more than anything wants to find love. Agreeing to sign up to a dating website was a bad, bad idea. Niall’s bad, bad idea. Louis is single, but has no interest in relationships. Or so he tells himself. ??Harry is a lawyer, his boss, Nick, happens to give him a bonus, which he decides to splurge on a new work wardrobe. Louis is a frustrated designer, working as a personal shopper at Selfridges. Louis happens to be working on the day a very beautiful, but out of his depth, new customer ambles into their department in need of advice. Louis might have just found the muse he never knew he was looking for.

Featuring: Sophia as Louis’ colleague, with a somewhat unhealthy obsession with his love life, whilst being oblivious when it comes to her own. Liam as the ‘IT bloke from downstairs’ with the mother of all crushes on Sophia. Niall as Harry’s sport’s writer flatmate who spends most of his time making Harry’s life as complicated as possible. Zayn as Louis’ flatmate and lifelong best friend, whose cat, Noodle/Princess/Princess Noodle loves Louis more than it loves him. And Nick as Harry’s boss and one of Louis’ regular customers: is Imelda Marcos reborn.

📄 amaryllis by @hattalove (146k) | Explicit

“Where are we?”

“Um. A little while out of London?” Niall tries, seemingly the only one willing to not be mysterious and provide Harry with information, and. Oh.

“London London? As in, the capital of England London?” he asks, just in case he’d misheard.

“No, the other London,” Louis laughs, low and biting. He comes closer finally, the moonlight just enough to reveal a sharp-cut jaw and pale skin. “Sorry, Pup.”

Nobody’s ever called Harry a “pup”. Frankly, he finds it quite insulting, but he lets it slide to try and comprehend his current crisis.

or the one where harry gets bitten by a werewolf. louis is the mysterious not-quite alpha, liam and zayn have Things going on, niall is their token human, and together, they watch a lot of TV.

📄 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere (149k) | Explicit

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

📄 Have Faith In Me by @stylinsoncity (183k) | Mature

As the son of Anne Styles, millionaire owner of one of the world’s most luxurious fashion labels, Harry has spent his last seventeen years living in carefree extravagance. And now he’s grown tired of it, along with the pressure from his mum to follow in her footsteps and the constant care given to him by her past assistants.

When his mum’s newest assistant, Louis, moves into the guesthouse, Harry determines to be treated differently. To be treated like an adult. Except Louis is not at all what Harry was expecting…

This is a story about growing up, growing in love and having the faith to make it last.

📄 Built Memories by @fresharold (211k) | Mature

“It was a comet.

The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning.

And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him. It was more than just a comet because of what it brought to his life: direction, beauty, meaning.

There are many who couldn’t understand, and sometimes he walked among them. But even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him, and his world would be whole again… And his belief in God and love and art would be re-awakened in his heart.

The boy saw the comet and suddenly his life had meaning.”

» where louis and harry after long years start over again. they’re strangers again and introduce themselves, they relearn what they already know and what they don’t know, come with new inside jokes, create new memories and give each other a second chance.

📄 Relief Next To Me by @dolce_piccante (333k) | Mature

AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

✨You can also check my fic tags for more fics! ✨

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naferty · 4 years ago

Text

Tony wakes up groggy, disoriented and with no recollection of where he is. At first, he thinks his room, but his room isn’t as white or spotless or has a strong sterilizing smell. It hurts his head just smelling it. Or maybe that’s just his head hurting in general from waking up somewhere unknown with no recollection of it.

He finds Rhodey sitting next to him, holding his hand and looking at his phone with his other. When Tony squeezes it Rhodey looks up and is relieved to see him awake.

“Tones,” he moves to sit on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Tony frowns in thought. His head hurts and there’s a bit of throbbing pain in his left leg, but other than that it’s not too bad to warrant Rhodey’s concern.

“My leg hurts,” he admits, voice cracking. Rhodey quickly grabs the cup of water and a straw. Tony inhales the liquid in like a scorched animal in a desert.

“What happened?” he tries again, grateful his voice didn’t nearly send him into a coughing fit.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Rhodey moves strands of hair away from his eyes.

“I don’t - I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, that’s okay. Take your time. No hurry.”

Tony works his brain to remember something. Anything. The last thing he recalls is welcoming a new student to the academy. Hellcat if he remembered the name correctly. Something about hell and a cat is somehow involved. Sounded about right. After that, nothing. He had been with Pepper welcoming her, returned back to his tower and then he woke up in this bed with a headache and Rhodey next to him.

That had been in… August? Or sometime around there.

“We were welcoming new people. Hellcat? Daredevil?”

Rhodey frowns. Not a good look and not a good sign. “That’s what you remember?”

“Yeah, why? Did something happen?” Tony gives the room a quick scan. “Why am I here and why does my leg hurt?”

Rhodey squeezes his hand. “You got hurt, Tones. Got taken down while flying. Your suit took a lot of the damage but your leg still got nicked. Stress fracture. Not too bad considering everything. You’ll be getting a cast for it, though. Hope you’re ready.”

“Only if you carry me.”

“No carrying on my end. Someone else has that covered now.”

“Aww, Honey Bear, I don’t want anyone else carrying me but you. You know that.”

Rhodey shook his head. “Not these days, Tones. The honor of carrying around your ass goes to someone else now. Someone, I might add, that you absolutely love being carried by.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony lifts himself up to sit upright. Hurt like hell but now he’s able to get a better view of Rhodey. He notices his best friend has more of his War Machine suit on than usual. Where before he had been getting used to it. Now he’s wearing it with the same confidence as Tony does his own.

Not only that, but he can also almost swear that Rhodey looks a bit older now. He can’t put a finger on it, but somehow Rhodey looks as if a fair amount of time had gone by. A bit bulkier. Strong posture.

Where the hell as his Platypus been training recently for him to gain those muscles so fast?

“Well, uh,” Rhodey scratches his head. A nervous habit. A very telling tell. “There’s no easy way to say this.”

“Say what?” Oh shit, did something really bad happen besides him breaking his leg and not remember? Did whoever he had been fighting with do something to him? Run off with his spleen or kidney? Stolen his fridge of cheese? Hacked into his systems and stolen everything?

“Tones, what year is it?”

Tony blinked. Oh… crap. Usually, people only ask that question when memory loss is involved. Did his head get injured in the fall? How many years has he lost? It can’t be too many since Rhodey still looks more or less the same and it seems like they’re still in the Academy.

“It’s twenty-sixteen,” he says, fear slowly growing as his mind ran through scenarios after scenarios of what he could be missing from memory.

“Crap,” Rhodey rubs his forehead. Not a good sign. Never a good sign. “It’s okay, it’s okay, not too bad. Memory loss happens. Nothing we can’t handle together.”

“Honey Bear, what year is it?” His heart rate starts going faster. He’s terrified of the possibility of so much time going by and not remembering any of it.

“Tones, calm down. It’s not too bad. It’s twenty-nineteen. Only three years. We can handle this.”

“Three?” Tony repeats. Sure three doesn’t sound like a large number but it’s years! So much could happen in one year let alone three.

Rhodey hugs him. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll handle this together. I mean it. Not much has changed. We’re still in the Academy. It just has more students than before. You’ll run into a lot of new faces but it’ll be okay. You’ve made a lot of improvements on your armor and mine. You’ll get used to it again. I’ll help every step of the way.”

Tony takes deep breaths. It’s all easy to say, but it’s still a lot of time taken away. People change. Is he still friends with Pepper? What about Jan? Loki? Do people who used to tolerate him hate him now? Is he still helping around in the Academy or has Nick kicked him out of board meetings?

As if knowing exactly what he’s thinking, Rhodey tells him, “Pepper was here earlier, but she got called away. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Jan couldn’t skip another class. It’s Thursday. She’s already skipped all day yesterday. Couldn’t do another.”

Rhodey pulls away. “You know Loki wouldn’t be caught dead caring for someone where everyone can see. He’s getting updates from Jan, but he does occasionally skulk around here.”

“Oh,” that answers some. What about the others? “Anything big happened?”

“A bit,” Rhodey admits. “Besides the Academy’s weekly attacks, some big events have happened. Nothing that’s changed your life too much, though.”

Tony exhales. Doesn’t sound too bad.

“Jarvis has a body now.”

He blinks. “...what?”

“Jarvis has a body now,” Rhodey repeats slower. Hands out and at the ready to catch him should he fall at the news. “Walking, talking body with working arms and everything. It’s really cool. You’re really proud of it.”

“He… he has a body?!” That’s… that’s incredible! Jarvis has always behaved like a person, even with his digital coding, and Tony has always considered him as an individual all his own. Sassy, sarcastic, but still loyal and humble. Jarvis getting a body? That’s got to be the greatest thing that’s happened to him, and Tony can’t even remember it!

It absolute sucks.

“Where is he? The body, I mean.” Jarvis is always with him, but physically? Where is that?

“In the tower preparing everything for you. Make it cast friendly,” Rhodey gives his left leg a pointed stare.

“Okay, is that everything?”

His eyes go back to Tony. For a millisecond Tony can see them land somewhere on his shoulder before they go to his face. It’s enough for Tony to shakily raise his left hand to touch it. His shirt is thin enough to feel everything underneath. Nothing out of the ordinary on his shoulder but when he runs it over his neck he stops. The skin under his fingers isn’t as smooth as his shoulders. Marks are present. Barely noticeable really. Faded but still there. Located where one would place a bite to mark a mate.

Rhodey knows the moment he realizes what it means. He gives rapid nods in confirmation. “Yeah, it’s exactly what you think.”

“I got mated?” Tony nearly screams in hysterics because - holy shit!

“Not fully mated,” Rhodey is quick to correct. “You haven’t signed marriage licenses or had any kind of wedding. You marked each other to keep people off you. You’ll get officially hitched once you’re both ready. At least that’s what you’ve told me.”

“Off me?” That’s a very odd reason for it. Who would even be on him anyway? Tony has no suitors, no interests in him. Did he somehow offend someone and they’re sicking people on him? Is the mark meant to do damage control for it? “Did I screw up and pissed off someone?”

Rhodey’s mouth falls open. “What - no! What? - how did you come to - no, of course not! Shit, Tones, how can you come to the worst conclusions?”

“Doesn’t the worst usually happen?” He doesn’t mean to sound pitiful. It just sort of happens.

Story of his life.

“Not recently, no.” Rhodey puts a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, you get the short end of the stick sometimes - actually, you get it a hell of a lot more times than I’d like, but it’s not every day and certainly not for this. This mark,” he points to it, “you have this because you and your mate just happen to have the hots for each other.”

“Just the hots? That’s not encouraging,” Tony looks down. “So it’s a temporary thing.” Once this quick hot honeymoon phase is over they’ll separate no doubt.

“You both call it love but I’m not about to feed that disgusting fire you have going. You both need to cool it with the affection. It’s traumatizing some of us.”

“Who am I even mated to?” The million-dollar question. Who ended up getting stuck with him? Who did he manage to convince to give him a try? From what he remembers, no one he knows has really caught his eye. In and outside of the Academy. No one, except for a certain Captain that he may or may not have had a crush on since his childhood. Odds are pretty low, the bottom of the barrel low, that Steve is his mysterious mate.

Oh, but how strong he could hope.

When Rhodey doesn’t answer right away Tony asks again. “Who’s - who’s my mate, Platypus? A new face? Someone outside the Academy? Who’s the unlucky person?”

“I don’t think he considers himself unlucky mating you, and don’t talk about my best friend like that.” Rhodey gives him a playful hit. “He’s a good guy. Don’t disrespect.”

“I love you, too.”

“Careful he doesn’t hear you say that. He’s a possessive asshole.”

“So a guy,” that doesn’t narrow down the list much but it is surprising. Tony really thought he’d get a girlfriend, but turns out he went and got a boyfriend instead.

Howard would be so proud of him for proving that right. ‘Why have a broad when you’ll probably be the broad?’

He didn’t know how to feel if he ended up mating to a male alpha. With the posturing and the aura of dominance he couldn’t create just waiting to be smacked across his face everyday, taunting him. Howard did always say he was a sorry excuse of an alpha. Better suited to be another alpha’s... well, you know.

At least he and this guy love each other, right?

“Who’s this guy?”

“Well, it’s -”

“I’m here! I’m here! Tony?” A voice interrupts. From outside the door, in came the one and only Steve Rogers. He’s breathing heavy and looks like he ran a marathon getting here but he’s smiling. Large and shining. “You’re awake.”

“Hi, Steve,” Tony says. It’s all he can think of saying. He honestly didn’t expect Steve to be here. They’re not exactly close from what he remembers.

Steve’s about to say more but Rhodey quickly stops him, dragging him back out the room and the two proceed to have a very hushed conversation. So hushed that Tony can’t guess what they’re talking about, but he does hear a very clear but very hurt, “oh” at the end. Then the two don’t realize their voices have gotten louder.

“Yeah.”

“So he doesn’t remember.”

“No. Sorry, Steve.”

“Now what?”

“We help him. Any way we can.”

“Would I be of any help, though? I’ll just cause problems.”

“Will you be able to keep away?”

“...no, I won’t.”

“He may not remember, but he still cares for you. Always has. Just gotta help him fall in love with you all over again.”

Hold on. One. Second.

Fall in love?

All over again?

Him?

With Steve??

When?

How?

Tony stops breathing.

The two return. Their hushed conversation over. Tony must be bug-eyed as he stares at them.

Steve stops in front of his bed. “Hey, Tony. I -”

“I mated you?!”

His shouting surprises the two. “Oh, you heard that?” Steve says.

Tony is speechless. It’s not a denial. Meaning, it could be very much true. He’s mated to Steve?

“Yeah, I’m you’re mate. Two years now. Could’ve been near three but you’re very stubborn,” the famous omega says so freely. As if being mated to Tony isn’t the worst thing in the world for him. “Rhodey told me you don’t remember anything in the last three years. So you don’t remember our time together?”

No, I - no.”

“Okay,” Steve looks down. Hurt. “I understand if you want me away while you heal -”

“No,” Tony says rather quickly. “I mean - help me understand. How did we end up together? How did I win you? No - shit, that came out wrong. You’re not a prize. You’re a hero and an icon. I just don’t get how I got this lucky.”

Steve has a smile. It’s small, but it’s there. “I don’t know about you being lucky. I think I’m the luckier one here. If you have to know, it took a lot of work on my part. It also took a lot of help from your friends. You’re really determined to ignore the signs right in front of you, Love.”

Tony makes a choking noise. Steve just called him Love. Steve Rogers just called him love! He couldn’t believe it. This is all a dream. It has to be. He’s never this lucky.

“Tony?” Steve frowns and moves around the table. Closer to him. He reaches a hand out. Rubs a thumb under his eye. “Honey, you’re crying.”

Is he? Steve pulls his thumb away. Glistening from a tear. Oh, looks like he is.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” he inhales, “and in pain.”

“Your leg?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go get the nurse.” Steve turns to do just that but Tony grabs his arm before he can take the first step.

“Wait. Stay. Please?”

“I’ll get her,” Rhodey offers and walks out the room, leaving them alone.

Steve sits on the bed. He grabs hold of his hand. “Okay, I’ll stay. I won’t go anywhere.”

“Thank you.” With his shirt, Tony wipes away the tears. “Could you - could you tell me how it happened? How did we -?”

“Get together?” The omega pipes in.

“Yeah. I just don’t believe it. Feels like a dream.”

“You better believe it, Mister. This is no dream and I worked really hard to get you. I’m not letting go.”

Tony laughs. It’s so surreal to hear Steve say that. For him of all people!

“Okay, while we wait for Jim let me tell you about the first time I tried asking you out. A lot of people got upset about it and trust me, it wasn’t because I was trying to get off the market.”

#text post #long text post #naferty writes #stony #stevetony #tony & rhodey #he's my alpha au #a/b/o dynamics #alpha tony stark #omega steve rogers #another attempt at waking up and forgetting who your mate is #but a happier outcome!#avac #avac stony

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faustonastring · 5 years ago

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Could you do a headcanon of the six reacting and dealing with a MC whose magic going crazy (maybe going along with their emotions) . Things like if they're mad their hair will turn to flames or turning things to ice randomly. Just wild stuff.

Hi thanks for requesting! Hopefully this is what you wanted!

Request R Open! :+)

Main 6 reacting to mcs magick going crazy depending on their emotions!

Asra

This is new. This is very new. When he saw that you couldn’t walk or talk when he brought you back (yes, in case you didn’t know this is sadly canon) he figured he would have to reteach you magick, he also figured you would naturally be good at, but not so good that it effects you every day life.

Even though your magick going crazy at times is very life threatening, and scary, he finds it very attractive, but sadly for asra, he has to teach you to conceal it, to dumb it down a little, if he doesn’t you might set the shop in fire, or freeze another person to death

Over time it gets a little better, instead of your whole body lighting up when your mad it’s just your hair, and instead of you accidental freezing people when your upset, your hands just get very very icy, instead of big ass fireworks lighting up when your excited, just tiny ones, and instead of the whole forest flocking to the shop when you’re happy. Just a couple of nearby birds. And a loud squawking raven....?

When ever you get upset with him and your magick starts acting up, he quickly gets over his anger. Part of the reason is because if he can’t calm you down, something bad is bound to happen, but if you do manage to control it, well then he is quick to say he’s sorry, and offer to make it up to you if you know what I mean.

Nadia

God help the poor courtiers or nobleman/woman that upsets you. Because they are going to have a rude awakening when they realiszed they messed with the wrong magican.

When it first happens with Nadia, it’s not because your mad, it’s because you so overjoyed (you can decide why, she’s your wife not mine) that you start to shoot fire works from your fingers. Nadia is most definitely surprised and taken aback, but when she sees that your embarrassed by it....well that changes her reaction almost immediately

She doesn’t want you to suppress your feelings, she wants you to express them freely, it’s just a little hard to do when things are always catching on fire, or freezing, or just going completely wrong, and even though who ever you were having the meeting with looks very frightened and confused. Nadia looks very amused.

The only reason she looks amused is because that person was probably pissing her off too. But if you were to mess up a very important business deal that will Better impact Vesuvia? Well your going to have to make it up to her later.

Julian

It freaks him out everytime. A little less everytime. And he doesn’t mean to offend you, he would never mean to do that, he’s just confused. Terrified. And horny all at once and it’s not the best feeling in the world (definitely not the worst though)

When it first happened you were upset with him for gods know what, and your hair turned into flames. Julian thought you were being possessed or turned into some sort of demon of sorts, so he started asking if “you were still in there” or if he “needed to call an exorcist” which only enraged you more.

After you calm down a bit after being mad, he tries to make light of the situation he tries to make jokes about what happen, as terrible as they may be. One of his most frequent jokes is “maybe you were the one who set Lucios room on fire.....haha ya’know. Because of the hair” this is either a hit or miss depending on your mood, the type of person you are, and how many times he’s made that joke in the past week.

He thinks the when your hair turns to flames is hot. When your hands get icy. Hot. But what about the other ones? Like when you get excited you start to shoot fireworks, or when you get happy and a flock of animals starts to run towards you? That. He finds that cute. No not cute. Absolutely adorable.

Portia

She loves it. She loves it the most out of every one. She may be small, but people know better than to make her mad. And now she has a partner that has magic fire hair, and iced hands, can attract animals, and can shoot fireworks. Don’t make them mad either. If you do it’s over for you buddy.

When she first finds out she’s shocked! The two of you were upset over finding out some very sad news, and your hands started to ice? She instantly notices it’s some magick thing, and she is quickly torn out of her sadden state and is asking you everything about it.

You’ll gladly answer any of her dying questions (as you should) and your iced hands start to slowly melt away, and next thing you know pepi is crawling all over your lap, meowing and purring like crazy. (Because of this her new nick name for you is cat-nip)

She finds it more cool than attractive, granted I think she finds anything magick related that you do attractive, and as time goes on she adds it to her list of turn ons, but early on in your relationship she just simply finds it cool

Muriel

He already knows. He knows everything. Asra no-boundaries Alanzar tells him everything, espically if it’s about you, espically x2 if he isn’t sure he made th right descion about you, and things aren’t going exactly as planned

Even though he knew, he didn’t know what to expect, but one day when he was happily walking in the forest with you, and a heard of chickens, cam running up to you, and a couple of dears...then a bear. Well Muriel feels like he just fell in love all over again.

He tries his best not to make you upset, he doesn’t like seeing your hair get like that, and he doesn’t like seeing your hands get all icy. And god forbid any one were to make you upset, because Muriel doesn’t need violence to leave an impact on some one. His glare alone says it all.

I don’t think he finds it a big turn on, I mean you attracting animals is very cute, and he thinks the fireworks when your excited are a nice touch, but nothing he’s too wild about, I feel like Muriel only likes to get intimate when he’s feeling a deep connection, with some one, and this is one of those things that he doesn’t really connect too. (Not to say he doesn’t connect to you, that is)

Lucio

Oh no. Oh god no. Nonononononononono. This isn’t good. This isn’t good for lucio, and this isn’t good for your relationship with lucio. He loves you he really does, it’s just.....does your hair have to turn to flames? Can it turn into something else? Please

He isn’t pleasntly surprised when you get mad at him one day and your hair turns into flames. No he’s terrified. Not only is there fire, but your fire. And your mad. You’re mad fire and your mad at him, with your fire, and there fire going everywhere, and oh god no he can’t do this again-

He tries to do everything to make it stop. He loves you. He really does. He loves you more than anything In the whole world. Your his light. His angel who came to save him from that damn room- but he can’t with the fire. There’s too much trauma. Too much ptsd. The man was burnt alive. Everytime your hair gets like that he feels a little piece of him cripple away.

Im sorry lucio stans, but this might be a deal breaker for him. He can’t deal seeing your hair get like that. It pains him too much. It’s just too much. If you’re really paitent, and it happens once in a blue moon, then maybe. The maybe he can hold out, and look past it. But if it’s happening every other week, month, day? I’m sorry, but he can’t. As much as he hates too, he has to let you go.

Thank you for reading hopefully it came out alright! (I’m slowly getting out of my slump, so my writing is slowly increasing to what it used to be!)

Next headcanon: main six with an mc that leaves love letters around (5/14)

Request r open ;)

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Line of Duty Series 6 Episode 1 Review: Who Killed Gail Vella?

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This Line of Duty review contains spoilers.

Is this allowed? Somebody please check. Can Kate just leave AC-12? She’s a third of the operation. One of the three pyramids at Giza may as well stand up and walk away. The strawberry from Neapolitan ice cream, silver Olympic medals, degrees 240 – 360 of all circles… could they also just call it a day? Unacceptable. This is AC-12 we’re talking about. 12 as in four times three: the gaffer, Steve and Kate – the corners of the straight-backed, clean-nosed triangle of truth.

No wonder Ted is feeling sore about it. The Super could barely bring himself to look at Fleming’s picture in this series six opener, the sight of those blue, blue eyes prompting him to mutter about loyalty and then change the subject to great wee girl Chloe, AC-12’s newest recruit. Last series’ investigation into ‘H’ clearly left a grubby stain on the unit’s reputation. How will Hastings react when he finds out that Steve also has one foot out the door?

We can’t blame Steve for requesting a transfer to Jolly Rogerson’s Major Violent Crime unit. He’s currently living a life as grey as his waistcoat. He spends his days chasing up expenses receipts and his nights washing down blister packs of over-the-counter painkillers with premium lager. Meanwhile, Kate’s out there wearing the waistcoat of danger, complete with bullet proofing, reflective stripes and a radio. Who wouldn’t want to swap?

I’ll tell you who I wouldn’t swap places with right now: anybody. This is a new series of Line of Duty and we’re at the top of the toboggan run. Episode one is the push start, building up speed for the tortuous descent, sharp turns and bit at the end that goes so fast your ears fold back and you can taste blood. We’re going places, is the point, and after a year of hardly straying further than our front doors, I can’t be the only one willing to kiss the ground beneath AC-12��s feet.

Now, what do they have for us this time? Operation Lighthouse: the unsolved murder of Gail Vella, a crusading journalist shot dead outside her home in the Kingsgate area a year ago. (Prematurely killing off guest stars is one of Line of Duty’s favourite tricks, but a series is usually polite enough to wait at least until it starts before doing so. Not in the case of Andi Osho’s Vella.)

After the first whiff of a clue in months, senior investigating officer DCI Joanne Davidson (new guest lead Kelly Macdonald) diverts the team on its way to collar the suspect to a suspicious-seeming side mission that loses precious time and potentially, their man. Did her spidey sense really start tingling at the split-second glimpse of a parked van, or was the armed robbery a planned distraction?

In addition, Davidson’s boss DSU Buckells (we’ve met him before) screws up the op paperwork, leaving a gap in surveillance coverage long enough to allow a Russian circus, let alone a single suspect, escape from the flat in question. Next, the Covert Human Intelligence Source (or CHIS. Keep up, this was all covered last term) able to ID the suspect is found very much pushed off a tall building.

What we need to know: Is Davidson deliberately obstructing the hunt for Vella’s killer, and is she working with Buckells to do it?

Line of Duty Series 5 Recap: Framing Ted Hastings

By Louisa Mellor

Line of Duty: Ranking Every Bent Copper By Level of Corruption, Mother of God!

By Louisa Mellor

In the ‘yes’ corner is PS Farida Jatri, a member of Davidson’s team who tips Steve off about her boss’ suspicious behaviour. We don’t know what Davidson is capable of, warns Jatri. But not so fast! Farida also turns out to be Davidson’s spurned, secret lover. Does that make her testimony likely to be more reliable, or less? Valuable insight, or axe to grind?

In the ‘no’ corner is the fact that, after nicking Terry Boyle – a recurring Line of Duty character with Down’s Syndrome and a long-time associate of the OCG – and spending the episode pushing the theory that he was Vella’s obsessed stalker, Davidson let him walk. Until that moment, she’d looked guiltier than a dog with a cat’s tail hanging out of its mouth. Everything she’d done and said suggested that she was part of a plan to frame Terry while the real killer – likely one Michael Banks (a relative of series five OCG member Lee Banks?) – got away. In this theory, Banks shot Vella to stop her from exposing links between police officers and organised crime, and Terry was meant to be the OCG’s fall guy.

At this stage in proceedings though, any theory is a just house of sticks waiting to be blown away by big bad wolf Jed Mercurio. Maybe Farida will be revealed as the killer. Maybe Terry really did do it. Maybe new DC Chloe Bishop is Tommy Hunter’s long-lost granddaughter here to bring down AC-12 from the inside. Maybe they need to focus on hunting down this Mike Indigo fellow everybody keeps talking about on their police radio. Right now, we simply can’t know. It’s just a case of keeping our eyes open and taking everything down in a little notebook.

A few things to note down: 1) Steve’s painkiller addiction – a hangover from the serious injuries he sustained in series four and a potential weak spot for the DS. 2) The missing freezer from Terry’s flat, which we know used to contain the corpse of series one’s Jackie Laverty. 3) Jo Davidson’s Fort Knox-levels of door security and complicated feelings about that family photo. 4) Kate’s separation from Mark, and that little hand stroke from Davidson at the end. 5) Terry being told he’ll be safe in secure accommodation (will he?).

The ‘Kate’s in another unit but not undercover’ twist aside, this hour bore similarities to some previous series openers. Both two and five started with disaster-struck police convoys deliberately diverted by female officers in the pay of the OCG. The character of Michael Farmer in series four also gave us the interrogation of a young murder suspect with a learning disability. Would a drama this well-tuned into its own detail and history not care about repeating itself? Doubtful. Line of Duty knows that its audience pays it the same level of attention that a Labrador pays to somebody eating a Jaffa Cake; if we’re being led to draw comparisons, there’ll likely be a reason, and it’ll likely be to pull the rug out from under us.

Does Davidson bear similarities to past leads? She’s less of a cold fish than Lindsay Denton – see that banter with Kate in the opening scene – but like her, lives alone with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for company. She’s as commanding as Roz Huntley – whom you could also imagine asking a churlish underling if the word “ma’am” was in their vocabulary – but more emotive and less inscrutable. (Huntley would never have lost control enough to respond “shit, shit, shit” to the armed robber being shot, or exploded like that in Buckells’ office.) Innocent, or up to her neck in it? That’s what we’re here to find out.

The game with Line of Duty at this stage is to keep the important things the same (long, tense interrogation scenes; naturalistic jargon; exhilarating doc-style action; Ted taking any opportunity to mention pipe bands, Tayto Crisps or Gloria Hunniford…), while getting us hooked on a new lead and a new mystery. Episode one? Job done. In the words of the Super: I’m gonna need more, son.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Still have questions? Read our weekly episode theories explainer here. Line of Duty continues on Sunday the 28th of March at 9pm on BBC One.

The post Line of Duty Series 6 Episode 1 Review: Who Killed Gail Vella? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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anubislover · 5 years ago

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“Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya” Chapter 13: The Lesser Evil

Nami awoke slowly, her fogged brain sluggishly processing her strange surroundings. A high-pitched beeping noise. Low, muttered voices. Scratchy sheets against her skin and a stiff mattress beneath her back. Her eyes cracked open only to immediately shut again in pain from the blinding white light. She attempted to shield them but was startled to find her wrists bound with thick leather straps to a metal headboard.

Memories of Jinzo and the club snapped to the forefront of her mind. Had she been captured? Was this that creep’s brothel? Where was Ikkaku? Was she still bleeding out in the alley? Where was Law?!

Panicked and disoriented, she screamed and struggled helplessly until a pair of large, gloved hands firmly but gently grabbed her shoulders, pinning her down as Law’s hard face blocked out the bright light, allowing Nami to finally see.

“Nami-ya, calm down; you’re in my infirmary.”

“What?”

He neglected to answer as he inspected her eyes, his stern expression softening with relief. “No blue in the iris—looks like I got all of the drug out. Do you remember last night?”

“Of course I remember! Law, you need to get Ikkaku—”

“Right here, Nami,” a voice from one of the other beds groaned. The redhead breathed a deep sigh of relief when she saw Bepo unshackling the engineer before gingerly helping her sit up. There was an IV full of fluids hooked to her arm and she was in one of the Tang’s hospital gowns, but she was alive. “Neptune’s beard, I never want to see another martini again.”

Nausea bubbled in her stomach as Nami recalled Hypnotique and the state she’d had to leave the other woman in. “Those men…they didn’t—”

“They tried.” Penguin’s face was dark as he leaned against the wall. Tension and quiet rage radiated from every pore as he stared at his shipmate, latex gloves squeaking softly as he clenched and unclenched his hands. “We barely got there in time.”

“I was out of bullets, and Mandōreku had me pinned…” Ikkaku trailed off with a shudder.

“Penguin pulled him off you,” Law said quietly, though Nami could see the angry tic in his jaw as he ground his teeth and the way his tattooed knuckles were white with rage as he released the straps around her wrists. “Shot him point-blank in the family jewels.”

“Did you kill him?” Ikkaku asked, turning to the first mate.

“Not right away,” he replied coldly, the brim of his hat casting his eyes in shadow. “You’d lost a lot of blood and the uranos needed to be dealt with immediately, but once Law had you unconscious and in the infirmary, I took care of him.”

“Good. I only wish I could have done it myself,” she snarled. “Apparently, that son of a bitch was the one who spiked our drinks and supplied the drug in the first place.”

“If I’d known that, I’d have let him bleed out from the hole in his crotch instead of finishing him quickly,” Penguin growled. “I thought he was just a regular scumbag.”

“What’s important is that we got the drug out of you both in time,” Law cut in as he helped Nami sit up. “Uranos basically acts as a stimulant and aphrodisiac. If not treated quickly, it can cause enough brain damage to turn even the most level-headed person into a pleasure-addicted zombie. To say nothing of how much it fucks up your liver, kidneys, and reproductive organs.”

“At least your powers could get it out of us,” Nami stated, remembering how he’d managed to remove the birth control from her system.

“Yes, but given how many vital parts it effects and how fast it works, it takes a lot more concentration and energy than usual—especially since I couldn’t afford to treat you one at a time. I also find it’s easier when the patient’s unconscious; a slowed heart rate means the drug’s processed less quickly, plus it lessens the amount of distracting moaning and writhing from the patient. Not that it stops entirely,” he stated, nodding at the leather restraints.

She flushed. So that’s why he knocked her out. She could now clearly remember how she threw herself at him, practically begging him to fuck her. God, how humiliating! And to think she’d been so overwhelmed by need that she nearly hadn’t told Law about Ikkaku. If he hadn’t managed to trick the answer out of her…

“Thanks for getting us, Boss,” Ikkaku said, breaking the tense silence that fell upon the room.

Bepo gave her a faint smile as he rubbed her back, carefully avoiding scratching her with his claws. “Law’d never leave you two behind.”

“Jinzo didn’t think so,” she replied sourly, hands tightening into fists. “Planned on making Nami his star attraction, and he was going to hand me over to the bartender as a bonus for his ‘services’. Knew there was something off about that guy, especially when he wouldn’t get us water.”

“I’m sorry I left you alone with him,” Nami whispered guiltily, drawing her knees against her chest. Mandōreku had seemed so nice, but behind that charming smile had been utter scum. To think, she’d even encouraged her friend to give that creep a chance!

Ikkaku shook her head insistently. “Nami, I specifically told you to go to the bathroom because I had the feeling something was up, and I wanted you safely out of the way in case things turned violent. Which they did, and you ended up coming out and saving my ass anyway, so no harm, no foul.”

“What’s ‘foul’ is the fact that that bastard had enough uranos to spike the drinks of an entire bar,” Penguin snapped. Despite the girls being safe and sound, his scowl hadn’t eased up, and his posture still implied that he’d like to go out and kill something. But even though anger radiated off of him, he stayed put, not moving so much as an inch from his place by Ikkaku’s bed.

Gloved hand rubbing his goatee, Law nodded in agreement. “Uranos is extracted from a berry that only grows on a single island in the South Blue—Jinzo must have sunk a fortune into getting enough juice to dose a whole bar full of women. Just 15ml costs at least 50,000 belli.”

“If he got the shipment in recently, plus factoring in buying property, remodeling, paying his guards, and all his other expenses, no wonder he didn’t have the money to pay you and Drake,” Nami said, tallying up the rough costs of everything Jinzo had likely been spending in the past month.

Frown deepening, the surgeon looked at her in consideration. “He and Kimo-ya had always done well in the black market trade, but I guess with so many upstart pirates moving on to the New World to take advantage of the chaos, he wanted a fallback in case his normal clientele dried up. It’s not a bad plan, but he should never have tried to muscle in on Haiko-ya’s territory; she may be married to his partner, but she’s basically the unofficial ruler of Grimm’s nightlife.”

“Haiko’s that powerful?”

“She’s established quite the foothold over the past two years. Hiroshi once told me that, before she married Kimo-ya, Grimm was even worse; the dead bodies of whores were regularly found on street corners, drug lords ran rampant, you never knew if you were drinking alcohol or formaldehyde, and the slave trade was out of control. When Haiko-ya arrived, she used her influence to start cleaning things up. The first thing she did was reform the brothels; because of her, they’re now run like legitimate businesses with willing employees that are treated well.”

“Yeah? Jinzo seemed to have had other ideas,” Nami said softly. “He had us all drugged so he could cut down labor costs. No need to pay whores if they’re mindless sex slaves.”

Law scoffed. “Idiot. Women who take uranos have a life expectancy of a month, tops, and that’s still longer than men. Aside from the organ damage the drug can cause, being in a constant state of arousal like that typically results in dehydration, puts a massive strain on the heart, and when you’re only focused on fulfilling your sexual desires, basic human needs like eating and sleeping fall by the wayside. Most wither away to nothing.”

Penguin took off his hat to rub his forehead, scowl deepening. “So, even if he’d succeeded, once those girls died, he’d have to pay out again for a new batch of brain-fucked prostitutes.”

Nami shuddered at the thought. That could have been them. She would have died a mindless sex slave. Despite her life of servitude and the dangers she’d faced as a woman on the Grand Line, such a fate had never even occurred to her. Even when Absalom had kidnapped her and tried to marry her, she’d never even considered it—mainly because she’d been unconscious, but also because she never doubted that Sanji or Luffy or Zoro would save her. Those three always seemed to show up when she was in trouble. But Law…

She had far more faith in the Surgeon of Death than she used to, but it wasn’t the same instinctive trust that she had with her nakama—if she hadn’t gone looking for him, would he have shown up in time to get her and Ikkaku out of there? Luffy would drop everything if he even thought one of his friends was in trouble. Zoro, for all his terrible direction sense, never failed to stumble across her in the nick of time. Sanji had a sixth sense for women in danger. Even Usopp and Chopper, her fellow scaredy-cats, could be relied on to overcome their own fears if she were in trouble.

But Law had been on his own mission. The man had his own goals and priorities that wouldn’t always line up with hers. She couldn’t always rely on him to save her. She shouldn’t always rely on others.

Ignorant to the navigator’s inner turmoil, Law shook his head. “You’re assuming Haiko-ya would let him live that long. She already knew he was opening a brothel, so the second she caught even a whiff of uranos being used on the girls, she’d burn the place to the ground.”

“Unless…” Bepo began before stopping himself. “Sorry.”

“Unless what, Bepo?” Ikkaku asked curiously.

“Speak,” Law ordered, eyes narrowed.

The bear looked nervous as he twiddled his claws. “Well, what if Jinzo planned on getting Miss Haiko out of the way? With Mr. Kimo out of commission, it would be a lot easier for him to take over and drive her out. Or kill her. Or,” he swallowed harshly, “maybe even drug her and add her to the brothel.”

It made a sick amount of sense, and Nami watched Law’s gold eyes burn with understanding. “Haiko-ya probably suspected Jinzo was looking to take her out before his new business opened. That’s why she asked me to go after him last night.” Glare deepening, Law stalked towards the door, motioning for Penguin to follow. The first mate reluctantly left his post, tossing a concerned glance at Ikkaku before leaving the infirmary.

The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence until Nami uttered, “Bepo?”

“Yes, Nami?”

“What happened to the other girls? The ones in the club that were also drugged?”

Her fellow navigator seemed reluctant to answer, glancing around as if hoping someone would pop out to answer the unpleasant question for him. “Well…Captain’s primary concern was you two, but he did order us to sedate and deliver them to Miss Haiko. Once he was sure you would be alright, he went to see what he could do for them, but given how far gone most of them looked…” He bowed his head sadly. “I’m sorry.”

Nami bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes as she stared down at the white tiled floor. Given all that she’d heard about the drug, she felt overwhelming pity for those girls. What would happen to them? What kind of lives could they expect? Did they have husbands or boyfriends or families? Would they ever know the girls’ fates? Were they better off not knowing?

“I’m so sorry, Nami,” Ikkaku murmured, catching her attention. The Heart Pirate looked utterly devastated, tears welling up in her dark eyes. “I was so, so stupid. I figured since Haiko’d been cleaning up the clubs and bars, it was safe to have a night out.”

“You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Nami replied weakly.

Bepo nodded emphatically as he pulled his crewmate into a tight hug. “Don’t blame yourself; even Law thought it was safe enough for you two to go out alone! New bars don’t open without Miss Haiko’s approval, after all. And with the way she’s been running things, it’s more dangerous to go out alone during the day than at night!”

“Really?” Nami asked, surprised.

“Oh yeah. Since Miss Haiko pretty much runs the island at night, she doesn’t get involved with things during the day. It’s the compromise she made with Mr. Kimo and Jinzo. So, slavers and stuff are still a problem while the sun’s up, but once things get dark, it’s a lot safer.”

“Kimo’s really ok with stuff like that?”

“Yeah,” Bepo said nervously, round ears drooping. “He may be more honorable than Jinzo, but he’s still pretty ruthless—wouldn’t be in the black market organ trade otherwise. Handing over control of the island at night to Miss Haiko was basically his wedding gift to her. Jinzo really hadn’t liked that—the red light district had been his domain.”

Frowning, Nami considered his words. Since arriving on Grimm, she’d assumed that Kimo was the lesser of the two evils between himself and Jinzo. But something wasn’t quite right; considering all the work that went into opening a new business, Jinzo must have been planning on starting the brothel for at least a month, if not two. Yet if Kimo had handed control of Grimm’s evening affairs over to Haiko, there was no way Jinzo would have dared disrespected his partner like that, right? And Kimo would have had to be completely stupid not to notice his partner muscling in on his wife’s territory.

Stupid, or in on it, Nami thought, eyes widening as she remembered her brief encounter with Haiko. The club owner had seemed pretty pissed about what had happened to her husband, but not nearly as distraught as one would expect from a woman whose beloved had been possibly assaulted by his long-time partner. And she’d been so quick to point the finger at Jinzo. More than eager to push a slighted Law in his direction. To step back and let someone else get their hands dirty.

It was all conjecture, and she had no proof, but Nami’s gut had told her when they first met that she was the kind of woman who could slit a man’s throat with a smile. And now her gut was saying Haiko was far more involved in this whole mess than she’d let on.

Lost in thought, Nami didn’t realize Law had returned until she heard a low, rapid thumping inches from her face. Looking up, she jumped back like a startled cat as she found herself staring at a beating heart in a translucent cube.

“What the hell is that?!” she screeched.

“I think that’s pretty obvious, Nami-ya; a heart. Specifically, Jinzo’s.”

“Why do you even have that?!”

Tossing the disembodied organ causally into the air and catching it with one hand, he replied, “Well, because I was a bit preoccupied with saving your life, I didn’t have the time to make that bastard suffer like I wanted to. So, I took his heart and handed the rest of him over to Drake-ya.” His grin was cruel and pleased, especially as the organ in his hand beat faster, clearly under some kind of distress. “When I explained the situation to him, he was more than happy to deliver justice in my stead. Especially since Haiko-ya agreed to pay him the money he’s owed, plus a bonus for taking care of this disgusting pest problem.”

“What’s Drake doing with him?” Ikkaku asked, glaring at the heart with cold determination.

“Torture. He promised to use every trick the Marines and his father ever taught him. Broken bones, waterboarding, hot pokers, acid in open wounds, bamboo shards under his nails—but he’s not allowed to kill him.” Gold eyes landed on Nami. “That’ll be my pleasure. Unless you’d like that honor for yourself?” he asked, offering the organ to the navigator like a macabre Valentine.

She gasped in horror. “I’m not killing anyone!”

“You sure? After what he did to you? Think about what would have happened, Nami-ya; he tried to make you a sex slave. He would have profited off your body and laughed as you served every sick scumbag willing to pay. You’d be used, abused, and at the mercy of men who’d only see you as a notch on their belts and a warm hole to fuck,” he sneered, grip on the fragile organ tightening unconsciously.

She shuddered. The picture Law painted wasn’t pretty. Just the thought of what she would have been reduced to made her want to vomit. She and Ikkaku and all those other girls…

Swallowing hard, Nami nervously met his cold eyes. “Law, did you manage to cure the other girls?” Bepo had been doubtful, but a small part of her prayed for a miracle from the doctor.

Law ran a hand through his dark hair. “Haiko-ya’s familiar with uranos—she had some anaphrodisiac on hand to hold back the effects, but not enough for everyone. Some I was able to fully cure. Others will likely be nymphomaniacs for the rest of their lives, but at least still have their higher reasoning intact. Several unfortunately succumbed to the permanent effect before I even got to them. And a few had been taking other drugs that didn’t play well with the addition of uranos and alcohol—needless to say, they died.”

Her throat tightened like a fist had wrapped around it. “Oh my god.”

Holding the rapidly-beating heart out towards her like a rose or box of chocolates, he asked coaxingly, “So, considering the number of lives Jinzo ruined tonight, are you sure you don’t want to give it a little squeeze?”

Fingers twitching, Nami was tempted to take him up on his offer. To grab that fragile organ and crush it between her fingers. To make Jinzo suffer in a way he never could have prepared for in the name of the women he’d been willing to use for his own ends.

But her conscience won out. She wasn’t a murderer. Maybe if it had been Arlong’s heart, she would have done it. This Fishman had spent nearly a decade pushing her to the breaking point. Hell, she’d tried to kill him at least a dozen different ways before resigning herself to the fragile glimmer of hope that he’d honor their deal and free her village.

She had no doubt that Jinzo was just as bad as Arlong, and he’d certainly wronged her and her friend, but as far as personal stakes went, Jinzo paled in comparison. So, even though he deserved it, she couldn’t bring herself to kill him in such a callous, ignoble way. Luffy would never approve. None of her nakama would. She didn’t give a damn about honor or fair fights, but killing him like this, when the man had no chance to fight back, was a slippery slope she didn’t want to go down.

Gingerly, Nami pushed Law’s hand away. “I’m sure. It just…I could never…”

The Surgeon of Death seemed disgruntled that she refused his macabre gift, but he got over it quickly. “Suit yourself. Ikkaku?”

The engineer seemed to consider it, but one look at Nami’s ashen face changed her mind. “Better take that somewhere else, Boss—I don’t give a shit what you do to that bastard, but Nami doesn’t need to see it.”

Law glanced at the woman in question before shrugging and tossing the heart onto an empty bed. Casually, he checked Ikkaku’s IV and stitches along her side as he said, “Fine. I should call Drake-ya first and see if he’s gotten bored of ripping chunks of flesh off of the bastard, anyway. Hate to interfere with his fun. Penguin’s getting your breakfast—eat up, then get dressed. The log pose has reset and we’re leaving Grimm no later than sunset. This visit has been an absolute shit show.” Satisfied with his engineer’s condition, Law retrieved Jinzo’s heart, tossing it up and down like a beanbag as he ordered, “If you have anything you wanted to pick up before we head off, this is your last chance—though you’re both wearing the uniforms. No arguments.”

“Fine by me,” Nami murmured, refusing to look at the vulnerable red organ.

Her chin was lifted gently, and she was forced to meet Law’s tired eyes. “Nami-ya, I promise the next island we land on will be much more relaxing. No black markets, drugs, or creepy psychopaths.”

“That…that sounds great, Law,” she replied uncomfortably.

“That’s it? No complaining? No demands for monetary compensation? No insults?” His frown deepened as he took a step back, taking care to keep Jinzo’s heart just out of her line of sight. “What’s on your mind, Nami-ya?

She worried her lip. Haiko was Law’s friend, or at least they were on good terms. Should she really risk inciting his anger by making accusations against her without proof?

Then again, Law was an intelligent man, and he knew the woman better than Nami did. If anyone could put her mind at ease and prove her theory right or wrong, it was him.

For better or worse, she’d trust his judgment.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Nami asked, “Did Haiko ever tell you what kind of accident her husband was in?”

A dark blue eyebrow raised in bemusement. “No. We were a bit preoccupied with brainstorming ways of making Jinzo pay for his transgressions. I assume it was something pretty serious, though.”

“But she knows how good a doctor you are. You completely repaired Hiroshi’s hands. You can pull drugs and poison out of people and find out exactly what’s wrong with someone with your powers. Why wouldn’t she ask you to look Kimo over and see if you could help him?”

“Because—” Law paused, quickly realizing he had no answer. “That’s a very good question, Nami-ya.” Brow furrowing, he stood before her in deep thought for a few minutes, idly running his thumb over the heart in his hand. It continued to beat at a dizzying speed—Jinzo was terrified, in agony, or both.

Finally, with a dark glint in his golden eyes, the Dark Doctor stated, “I’ll look into it. As for you two; rest, eat, and be ready to set sail by tonight.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Ikkaku replied while Nami nodded mutely.

Without another word, Law stalked out of the infirmary, leaving the two women and the Mink alone.

Determined not to endure any more awkward silences, Bepo walked over to Nami, lifted her up like she weighed nothing, and carried her over to Ikkaku’s cot. The bear sat down and pulled both women onto his lap, hugging them close like they were a pair of dolls.

“You had us all worried,” he whimpered, rubbing his muzzle against Ikkaku’s tangled hair. After six hours and all the craziness that had ensued during that time, the dark strands were regaining their natural curl. “I thought we were going to lose you.”

Despite the stress and trauma she’d endured over the past few days, Nami couldn’t help but feel the need to reassure the sweet bear. “We’re ok, Bepo. You guys got to us just in time,” she promised, patting his soft fur comfortingly.

“We knew you’d never let us down,” Ikkaku agreed, smiling softly at the way the Mink nuzzled her.

“But what if we hadn’t—”

“If you’re worried, next time you’re coming with us on Ladies’ Night,” she offered.

“Yeah,” Nami chimed in. “No one would dare mess with us if we had our fierce Mink bodyguard with us!”

“I don’t think you’re getting a choice on the whole ‘bodyguard’ thing,” Bepo admitted. “Law was a wreck. Pretty sure he’s not going to let either of you off the ship for a while without either him or a whole entourage for protection. Sorry.”

As much as Nami wanted to be annoyed at this, she couldn’t blame the dark captain for such a precaution. Grimm had taught her that, if she wanted to get through the rest of the year in one piece, she was going to have to adapt to her situation better. Life with the Straw Hats had made her forget just how much danger a woman faced.

Ikkaku had said she was lucky to have kept her virginity for so long—that she had the chance to choose who to give her first time to—but she hadn’t fully realized just how lucky. Absalom, Jinzo, Harpin—she could have been raped by any one of them. And though she was fortunate enough to have powerful people looking after her, she needed to be better prepared to defend herself in the future. As it was, she was a liability, and she couldn’t always count on others to rescue her.

Resting her head against Bepo’s furry neck, she made a decision. “Hey, Ikkaku?”

“Yeah?”

“Think you could take a look at my Clima-Tact later? Maybe see if there’s a way to bulk up its attacks, or give me some tips on how to utilize it better? I…I don’t want you to feel like I’d be in the way of a fight again.” Usopp would probably freak that she’d let someone other than him mess around with his invention, but Nami was sure he’d understand that it was for the sake of survival.

“I didn’t exactly think you’d be in the way,” Ikkaku replied, though there was a hint of hesitation in her tone. “I just didn’t want you getting hurt. I mean, if it turned out Mandōreku had a gun, I couldn’t risk him shooting you.”

“I get it, but if I’m going to stand a chance in the New World, I need to up my game. I’m never going to be a great fighter like Luffy or Sanji-kun, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to get stronger.”

The engineer smiled sympathetically. “Then sure, I’ll look at it. Honestly, I’ve been dying to study that thing for a while but didn’t want to overstep.”

“I appreciate it,” Nami said. She meant it, too; Ikkaku might have been blunt and a bit pushy at times, but it was good to hear that she really did respect Nami’s boundaries.

“If you want some combat training, I can teach you a few of my moves,” Bepo offered, turning to rub his fuzzy cheek against her forehead affectionately.

“That’d probably be a good idea. Law said it was time to start some combat training, but I’ve been avoiding it. Guess it’s time to bite the bullet.”

“You want to learn to catch a bullet with your teeth?!” the Mink asked, shocked. “Not even Law can do that!”

Neither Ikkaku nor Nami bothered to correct him. Not that they could have; both women were laughing too hard.

XXX

Several hours later, Nami, Law, Jean Bart, Shachi, Ikkaku, and Penguin were loading the last of the supplies onto the submarine. The two women weren’t really in any condition to do any heavy lifting, but Nami was determined to spend as much time outside as she could before they submerged, as she had no idea when she’d get the chance to enjoy fresh air again. Ikkaku had decided to keep her company while the men did most of the work, and Law had agreed to let them lounge on the docks as it allowed him to supervise the men and watch over the women at the same time.

Normally, Nami would be on edge from his scrutiny, but she barely noticed as she was more interested in the amount of attention Penguin was giving them. Or rather, Ikkaku. The first mate had come up with practically every excuse under the sun to come over to check on them, mostly under the guise of ensuring his crewmate didn’t do anything to pull her stiches.

“I swear, he thinks I’m an invalid,” Ikkaku scoffed as Penguin scuttled off to help Shachi load up the supplies for the greenhouse Clione had ordered. “I’m not going to tear my stiches getting a drink.”

“Give the guy a break—he was freaking out when he realized you were in danger last night,” Nami replied, sipping her tea as she reclined in her deck chair. Penguin had insisted on fetching them some from the galley to ward off the gloomy island’s chill. It was definitely appreciated; a thick fog had settled over the Fall island since mid-morning and, combined with the chilly ocean spray, even the normally warm navigator was getting goosebumps.

“I guess. He’s a good guy like that,” she acquiesced with a small, affectionate smile. “He’s always looking after the crew. Speaking of, how’re you holding up in the uniform? You’re not getting overheated again, are you?”

The navigator gave the beige jumpsuit she’d once again been saddled with a brief scowl. “I’m fine—just trying to think of ways to make this damn thing palatable without Law freaking out.”

“Maybe we could modify it or something—make you a custom version. So long as it’s got the Heart Pirate emblem on it, I’m sure Law wouldn’t mind if we made it a bit sexier,” she said with a suggestive wink. “Especially if he gets to parade you about like his very own mikan arm-candy.”

Before Nami could tell her off for such an absurd suggestion, the man in question approached as if sensing the girls were talking about him. “And how are the two princesses doing?” he asked, tone teasing as he leaned Kikoku against his shoulder. “Has Penguin started feeding you grapes and offering foot massages?”

“Sadly, not yet,” Ikkaku snickered. “Need something, Boss?”

“I’m going to go run an errand. I won’t be gone long, but until I get back, stay close to the ship.”

The two women shrugged. Law had been popping out to run various errands all day; at this point, none of the Heart Pirates gave it much thought anymore.

“Don’t worry,” Nami replied, waving away his concern as she sipped her tea. “If I never set foot on Grimm’s shores again, I’ll be a happy woman. The docks are as far as I plan to go.”

“Good to hear it. Anything you two want me to pick up while I’m out?”

“Being awful magnanimous there, Boss,” Ikkaku drawled, an eyebrow raising suspiciously. “You trying to butter us up? Bribe us?”

He gave an insincere, too-wide smile. “Maybe I just feel like spoiling my two most beautiful subordinates.”

“And now I know you’re up to something. Well, if you insist on buying our silence, you can get me a huge box of gourmet chocolates or something,” she quipped, smirking up at her captain challengingly.

“Make that two boxes,” Nami giggled. “One for each of us. And a case of the most expensive sake the island sells.”

Law rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Greedy wench. Should have known you wouldn’t settle for a coffee or something.”

“If you don’t like it, I take cash, too.”

“Speaking of, you still owe me—”

“Nope!” she cut him off. “You said I could pay you back in cash, or with a kiss. And guess what, oh Surgeon of Death? I distinctly recall kissing you last night.”

“Under the influence of a sex drug.”

“You never specified the circumstances of the kiss. As far as I’m concerned, we’re even.”

Law let out an annoyed tch, and it took Nami a ridiculous amount of willpower to keep from commenting on the fact that the infamous Supernova was basically pouting. “Fine. I should be back in a half-hour. If I’m not, avenge my death.”

“Will do, Boss,” Ikkaku replied as she reclined in her seat, unbothered by the concept of her captain’s grisly demise. Not that she had reason to be—word had quickly spread about what had happened to Jinzo, so even if any of his former subordinates wanted revenge, only the truly stupid would risk their boss’ fate.

A blue bubble encased him and Law vanished before their eyes. Not wasting any time, the engineer turned to her companion. “So, you kissed him, huh?”

Nami scowled half-heartedly at her. “Because of the uranos.”

“Sure, sure,” Ikkaku chuckled but didn’t press the topic any further. It was good that she was feeling comfortable enough to make the occasional joke about last night’s debacle, but Nami could tell she didn’t wish to dwell on it longer than needed. There was a moment of comfortable silence between them before Ikkaku sighed. “Damn, now that he’s mentioned it, I kinda do want that foot massage. I’m getting a little cold, too; I’m gonna see if I can talk Penguin into giving one inside. You in?”

“Nah, I’m good. I think I’ll stay here and enjoy the fresh air a little longer. Go treat yourself!” she laughed, shooing the engineer away.

Normally, Nami rarely said no to a free foot massage, but she had the sneaking suspicion that Penguin wouldn’t mind doting on just Ikkaku for a while. With all his hovering, concern, and fury towards her attacker, Nami was beginning to theorize that the first mate might just have a burgeoning crush on the beautiful engineer. And even if she was completely off-base, Ikkaku deserved a little extra pampering after the night she’d had.

As Ikkaku meandered back into the sub, Nami wandered over to the edge of the pier, giving Jean Bart and Shachi a reassuring wave when they made to get up from where they were resting atop a stack of crates. Making sure to stay in their line of sight and within shouting distance, she stood there for several peaceful moments and relished the feel of the ocean spray on her face. She hoped the journey to the next island wasn’t too long—Grimm was damp and chilly and grey and an overall miserable experience, but she certainly hadn’t been bored.

“You seem to be doing well.”

Nami whirled around to find herself face-to-chest with Drake. Instinctively, her hand went to her Clima-Tact—Law had practically strapped it to her leg himself, though she doubted she’d risk leaving the submarine without it again.

Drake looked down at her critically, blue eyes lingering briefly upon the Heart Pirate insignia on her breast pocket before snapping back up to her face, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realized exactly where he’d been staring. He coughed into his fist awkwardly, waiting a moment for his composure to return. “I heard you ran amuck of some uranos. I suppose it’s a good thing you had Trafalgar for a temporary captain. I loathe the man, but his medical skills are beyond compare,” he spat as if giving Law even the slightest bit of praise filled his mouth with a foul taste.

“Y-yeah, he really came through for me,” Nami said nervously, fingers twitching above her batons.

Drake noticed her disquiet and took a half-step back, putting a respectable amount of distance between them. “I’m not here to kidnap you, Miss Nami—especially not with your companions ready to attack if I so much as blink at you wrong.”

Her anxiety eased up at the reminder. Glancing at her shipmates over her shoulder, she noticed Shachi glaring daggers at the rival captain through his sunglasses as he polished his rifle. Next to him, Jean Bart cracked his knuckles meaningfully. Confidence returning with the knowledge that she had good people watching her back, she returned her attention to Drake, hand retreating from her weapon to rest elegantly on her hip. “Smart man, though if abduction’s not on the agenda, why are you here?”

“Partially to check up on you. I was concerned Trafalgar would want to take advantage of you in your drug-addled state.”

“Law would never!” she snapped, instantly offended on the Dark Doctor’s behalf. The man may have been a sadistic, flirty bastard, but she instinctively knew he had never considered using her like Jinzo had intended. After all, she’d basically offered herself up on a silver platter, and when he’d kissed her back, it had been for the sake of distracting her. Law was a lot of terrible things, but “rapist” was not among them.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Drake raised an eyebrow at her outburst. “You’ve certainly changed your tune. Just two days ago you told me you didn’t even like him and literally begged me to help you strip off his uniform. I’d hoped you’d be smart enough not to fall for his seduction techniques so easily.”

“I haven’t fallen for anything—I’ve just realized that, even if he is a creepy asshole, he’s at least got enough honor to keep me safe from other scumbags. He’s the lesser of the evils out there.” Biting her lip, she reluctantly brought up, “By the way, I heard that you’re the one who…took care of Jinzo.”

With a nonchalant shrug he replied, “Normally, doing anything that benefits Trafalgar turns my stomach, but I was willing to make an exception in this case. The lesser of the evils and whatnot. That, and Haiko offered me a rather impressive sum of belli in exchange. I certainly wasn’t going to turn down that kind of deal—especially when I found out what Jinzo had done.”

“You…said he owed you a lot of money for something. What was it?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Piercing blue eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. “You’re not accusing me of selling him uranos, are you?”

“Jinzo did sink a small fortune into getting his hands on enough to drug a whole bar. Maybe it wasn’t the only thing you sold him, but you did say he owed you 600 million belli,” she countered, though her heart wasn’t in it. Drake may have been a dangerous Supernova and attempted kidnapper but considering how he’d seemed rather shy around unclothed women, she highly doubted that he’d supply a drug that would turn girls into sex-slaves. Still, it didn’t hurt to check.

His answering glower put doubt into that thought, though. “Miss Nami, I understand you’ve been through a traumatic ordeal, and thus I’ll humor your idiotic accusation—no,” he stated, voice barely more than a deep, threatening growl. “What he and Kimo owed me money for was a job they requested assistance on, plus I had raided a merchant ship full of uncut diamonds, platinum, and silk. And considering how you relieved Jinzo of his cash, even if I did bring in the uranos, do you really think I’d hand it over without getting paid?”

Ice water ran though her veins at his tone. Drake was deeply offended at her allegation. She couldn’t blame him—despite the near-abduction, he’d been remarkably courteous to her since they’d first met. Besides that, even if he wasn’t a Marine anymore, it was clear he was far more honorable than most pirates. But every man had his limits, and if she didn’t lighten the mood fast, she might end up sharing Jinzo’s fate. Backing up a half-step and holding out her hands as if to calm down an angry beast, Nami simpered, “Hey, I’m sorry! You’re right—it was stupid of me to think you had anything to do with this. I-I’ve been through a lot over the past couple days and wasn’t thinking straight!”

Drake took a deep breath, and the tension eased from his shoulders as his hands fell to his sides. Behind her, Nami could hear the safety of a gun clicking, and she suspected her bodyguards had something to do with his new calm. “I may be a pirate, Miss Nami, but I don’t care for my honor being questioned.”

“I’ll remember that.”

His stern expression softened at her obvious fear. A large hand rubbed the back of his neck with a hint of embarrassment. “I confess, though, I do now feel a bit guilty for even considering selling you to that madman. Uranos is nasty business—rumor has it that the Navy briefly considered using it as a form of torture for female pirates in Impel Down, but Sengoku shot it down.”

Bile burned the back of her throat at the mere thought. “Dare I ask who proposed that option?”

“I believe you robbed his mansion last month.”

A disgusted shudder wracked her body. Of course that perverted psychopath would suggest such a thing. Considering Harpin’s low view of women and shady dealings, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he suggested it so he could get his hands on some for his own depraved use.

“God, the Navy employs the sickest people,” she groused. “How can they even look at themselves in the mirror?”

“People will go to quite the extremes in the name of Justice,” Drake answered, tilting his head down so his face was cast in shadow. “You can’t always stop evil by playing by the rules.”

Nami bit her lip. She probably shouldn’t be discussing such things with a former Rear-Admiral. Even if he had no love for his former leaders, she doubted such a conversation would go anywhere pleasant. She was trying to keep the mood light, after all. “Right. So, where are you heading next? Off to the New World?”

“No, not yet. It’s still too chaotic on the other side. Perhaps in a few months, when the waves of idiots looking to make a name for themselves have all killed each other. If I hope to stand out, I can’t just be another voice screaming for attention.”

“Not the worst plan in the world, I guess.” In fact, it was pretty similar to Law’s. Perhaps all North Blue pirates were this pragmatic—it seemed they were the only ones willing to wait for the best moment to strike instead of recklessly rushing into certain death.

“So glad you approve,” he replied sarcastically, though there was an amused tilt to his lips. “I may also be staying on this side for the sake of enjoying Paradise while it’s unusually peaceful—it’s almost like a vacation.”

Just like that, the rest of the tension between them dissolved like sugar in hot tea, and Nami found herself able to relax. Drake was an intimidating man, especially when he was angry, but like Law, he didn’t seem the type to cause trouble unless he could gain from it. Especially not with the Heart Pirates so close by.

That in mind, Nami gave him a small smile, intent of staying in his good graces. “By the way, thank you for…what you did to Jinzo. I’m sure getting payback on my behalf wasn’t a factor in your decision, but it’s good to have the peace of mind knowing he won’t be coming after me again.” Death and torture were never things she’d be able to condone, but it seemed smarter to praise Drake rather than condemn him.

Broad shoulders lifted in a mild shrug, but the large captain seemed pleased enough at her gratitude. “Honestly, while it wasn’t at the top of my list of reasons, when I was informed that he’d drugged you, it did help sway my decision. I thought perhaps my act of chivalry might help you see sense and convince you to join me instead of Trafalgar.”

A wry smile curled her lips and she jutted out her hip as she replied sassily, “Torturing a guy isn’t a great way to earn a lady’s affections, though points for creativity.”

Drake blushed slightly at the mild teasing in her tone, pulling the brim of his hat a bit further down to hide it the damning tinge of pink. “Perhaps not my preferred way to win you over, but I work with what I have.”

Intent on keeping the mood light, she teased, “Well, Captain Drake, how would you prefer to ‘win me over’, as you put it? A shopping trip? Candlelit dinner? A long stroll on the beach under the stars?”

“I’d rather appeal to your sense of reason—you’re an intelligent woman from what I’ve seen, and surely by this point Trafalgar would have shown you his true colors. While he might not be the absolute worst piece of scum sailing the ocean, you’re better off without him. That insane bastard will bring you nothing but trouble.”

Part of her appreciated the fact that Drake seemed even the slightest bit concerned for her safety—it was always good to have allies, after all. “Law’s a little unhinged, I’ll admit, but still far from the worst captain I’ve ever served under. He’s loyal and protective of his crew, and I guess that includes me now. That, and I have this sneaking suspicion that you only want me because I’m his.” She blinked before smacking her forehead with her palm, cheeks burning bright red. “That didn’t come out right.”

Drake let out a faint chuckle as he closed the distance between them with a few casual steps. “Whether or not you meant it that way, you’re not wrong. Considering all the times he’s gone out of his way just to screw me over, I wouldn’t mind the chance for some payback.” He leaned in, his voice a seductive growl in her ear as he continued, “And what better way to do it than to steal away the woman he clearly plans to fuck?”

“Wha—”

“Back it up there, Drake,” Shachi snapped as he audibly clicked the safety of his gun off again, raising the rifle meaningfully. “We cut you some slack when you badmouthed the boss, but trying to seduce our Cat Thief is a big no-no.”

Nami shivered as a puff of Drake’s hot breath danced against her neck when he scoffed. “Oh? Don’t you have faith in her loyalty to your captain? Or do you think she’d be so easily seduced?”

“Like you said, Miss Nami’s a smart woman,” Jean Bart replied, once more cracking his knuckles, ready to fight. “Smart enough not to fall for such an obvious ploy from a guy who tried to kidnap her just two days ago.”

“Then you boys have no reason to worry.” His attention returned to the woman in question when he felt her small hand lightly press against his torso. “So, what will it be, Miss Nami? Surely such a gorgeous, intelligent woman knows she deserves a better captain than an unhinged scoundrel like Trafalgar. Someone like me. Perhaps I could convince you over a bottle of wine in my cabin.”

Memories of the fantasy she’d shared with Ikkaku about how she’d seduce Drake popped into her head. She certainly hadn’t imagined he’d try to beat her to the punch like this. But while his attempt was admirable, the execution was unrefined. He had the proximity and the low, coaxing tone down, but he wasn’t even trying to touch her. He was smart to compliment her looks and intelligence, but he wasn’t quite making her feel wanted. Or maybe she’d just gotten used to Law’s much more patient, methodical approach. In fact, she couldn’t help but wonder if Drake was trying to imitate him but wasn’t quite comfortable enough to commit.

And too bad for him, when a Cat Thief like her sensed weakness, she took advantage.

“Hmm, I admit it’s a tempting offer,” Nami cooed, playfully running her fingers along the fur trim of his bolero. Large brown eyes gazed up at him through long lashes as she continued, “Having the famous X Drake so interested in little old me is certainly doing wonders for my ego. And what woman wouldn’t want to serve under such a big, strong, handsome captain?” For extra measure, she blew a light stream of air against the bare skin of his sternum as she drew a little heart on his prominent abdominal muscles.

Drake’s face turned the same shade as his hair, prompting Nami to laugh and drop the act, stepping away from him. “Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that if I ran off with one of his rivals, Law wouldn’t take too kindly to it. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

Growling faintly in annoyance at how easily she’d gotten under his skin, Drake sought to compose himself by dusting off imaginary dirt from his sleeves. “Hmph. Well, in case you do come to your senses, just know the offer expires when I leave for the New World.”

“Fair. Now, unless you were looking to say goodbye to Law…” she trailed off, suggestively wagging her eyebrows.

Any composure Drake might have regained fell away instantly. “It was bad enough dealing with that smarmy bastard over the phone,” he snapped, ears burning brightly. Given what she knew of their interactions, Nami could guess that call had been utterly dripping with Law’s smug, suggestive flirtations. No wonder Drake had waited until he was gone to approach her. “All I have to say to him is ‘burn in Hell’!”

“Well, unless you plan on telling him that yourself, you should get going—he’s due back any minute,” she warned with a teasing smile. She’d never admit it out loud, but Law had been right—the best way to deal with Drake was to lean into the sexual tension to knock him off balance.

“Fine,” he growled, shoving his hands into his pockets and marching away with his head held deceptively high. “One last bit of advice, Miss Nami—I know it’s inevitable, but at least make him work for it before you sleep with him.”

Her jaw dropped in shock and outrage. “You—I’m not going to sleep with that jerk!”

“That’s the spirit,” he replied dryly over his shoulder, his large silhouette fading into the fog.

Once the former Marine was out of sight, Shachi was at her side, leaning his elbow on her shoulder. “You ok, Nami?”

The red haired thief was grateful for the cool air, as it helped her blush fade more quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for having my back.”

“No problem. Glad we didn’t have to fight him, though. I hate to say it, but Drake’s got a higher bounty than Law for a good reason—guy turns into a total monster during a fight.”

“Literally or figuratively?”

“Yes.”

“Of course,” she sighed. Not that she was surprised—she’d seen his hand become a green scaled claw back in the alley, and she’d heard rumors that he could transform into carnivorous dinosaur of some kind. “How long until we plan on leaving?”

“Probably no more than an hour,” Jean Bart replied, hoisting up one of the larger supply crates. “Why? Need to get anything before we go?”

A cat-like smirk curled her lips as she fanned herself with a wad of cash. “Nah. I’d just rather we be on our way before Drake realizes he’s missing a few thousand belli.”

Shachi immediately doubled over laughing. “Holy fuck! When did you pull that off?!”

“When you two were distracting him with your chivalrous display,” she said evenly, tucking the money into her breast pocket. Even if Drake did realize his wallet was suddenly empty, there was no chance he’d dare let his hand go anywhere near her cleavage.

“Seems you three are having fun,” Law said, appearing like a specter from the thick fog, Room dissipating around him. “What did I miss?”

“Just Miss Nami picking Drake’s pocket,” Jean Bart said with a chuckle, picking up the crate of sake that had appeared with his captain and hauling it towards the submarine.

“Dumbass tried to seduce her and got robbed for his troubles,” Shachi explained gleefully, though it was replaced with a low grunt as two massive boxes of assorted gourmet chocolate were dropped into his arms. He let out another oof as Kikoku unceremoniously landed on top of them.

“Drake-ya tried to seduce you?” the captain asked Nami, lips curling into a smirk. “Without my permission? I’m not sure if I should be pissed at him or proud.”

“Does he need your permission to seduce me?” Nami scoffed lightly. “Maybe I should have gone with him; having an actual gentleman for a captain would make a nice change.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to appeal to your desire for a more flattering uniform.”

“Wait, they have better uniforms? Drake, come back!” she called mockingly, making a show of trying to run off in the older captain’s direction.

Chuckling, Law caught her arm and pulled her back against him. “Shachi, bring those boxes to the girls’ room and check the cargo hold to make sure we have all the provisions we need.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Shachi replied, already halfway to the sub. He knew Law was just giving him busywork to get some alone time with the beautiful thief, but he wasn’t going to argue—if Law wanted to, he could easily just Shambles him to the other side of the island to get rid of him.

The Dark Doctor didn’t get to enjoy that alone time for long, though, as his second mate was quickly replaced by a second redhead, though this one was far more beautiful and curvaceous.

“Hello Law,” Haiko purred, her ruby lips curled upwards in a satisfied smile. In stark contrast to the sexy silver dress she’d preformed in, today she wore a smart black blazer with a tight pencil skirt, though her generous cleavage was tactically on display. “Your work last night was exemplary. I’m going to have to think of new VIP perks to give you. Maybe have Hiroshi write another song.”

Nami tensed at the appearance of the seductive club owner. She still had no idea what was up with her—if Haiko could be fully trusted. Law had said he’d look into it, but had he? Or had he just said that to appease his suspicious shipmate?

“Thank you, Haiko-ya,” Law replied casually, though it didn’t escape Nami’s notice that he placed himself deliberately between the two women. “How are Jinzo’s victims?”

The assured smile fell slightly. “I sent the ones you cured home to their families. The dead will hopefully be identified and given proper burials.”

“And the nymphos?”

“A few are going to try and return to their normal lives. The others…I’ve offered them employment at one of my brothels—if they’re going to crave sex for the rest of their lives, they might as well get paid for it. And at least with me they’ll be safe.”

“Very generous of you.”

Though she waved off the comment, Nami could see the subtle stiffness in her posture—as if she were an actress not entirely comfortable with the character she had to portray. “It’s the least I can do. If I’d taken care of Jinzo earlier, none of this would have happened.”

“I can’t argue with that. Though he must have done a great job covering his tracks to keep both you and Kimo-ya from realizing he intended to muscle in on your territory. What will happen to the black market trade now?”

Her easy confidence returned—when it came to talking business, Haiko was clearly in her element. “Well, since I’ll have my hands full keeping that from imploding, I’m entrusting Oscar with running the red light district. Hiroshi can manage Ruby 8 until things settle down. I admit, since so many of your peers have run off to the New World, the black market’s taken a bit of a dip in profits.”

“And with fewer pirates around, the island’s entertainment and legitimate businesses must have been more accessible to citizens and other visitors.”

“All the more reason to clean this town up, I suppose.”

“Kimo-ya won’t be happy about that,” Law said casually, studying his nails.

She shrugged, though her red lips turned in a subtle frown. “My husband’s a crime lord—to him, rampant rape, drugs, and murder meant that his clientele were happy. But when such a thing is the norm, it’s only a matter of time before you fall victim to it yourself.”

“Of course. It’s easy to rule the underworld when everyone else is a good, law-abiding citizen.”

Seductive smirk returning to her face, Haiko playfully stroked Law’s goatee. “Oh, don’t worry, Dr. Heart Stealer; you’ll still have a place to sell of your ill-gotten goods, and after last night, you can expect VIP treatment at any of Grimm’s fine establishments.”

The Surgeon of Death flashed a devilish smirk. “Good to hear. And without the risk of drugging, rape, and kidnapping, maybe next time we visit, Nami-ya will be able to actually enjoy herself.”

Pulling her hand away from Law’s face, Haiko turned to Nami, green eyes apologetic. “Yes, I heard you were one of the girls Jinzo’s goons drugged. It’s good to see you’re doing well. No one hurt you, did they?”

“I’m fine,” Nami replied, shifting uncomfortably. Though her concern over the thief’s welfare felt sincere, she still wasn’t sure if the island’s new Queenpin had a hand in the island’s drastic power shift, or if she was just taking advantage of the opportunity she’d been presented with her husband and Jinzo’s removal. Her goals at least appeared admirable.

“If you’re ever back in Grimm, you’re welcome at Ruby 8 anytime. In fact, next visit your meals and drinks are on the house.”

Law stepped between them again, and for a brief moment, Nami felt him run a reassuring hand over her back. “Perhaps by that point, Kimo-ya will have recovered—we can make it a double date.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Haiko stated, a nearly imperceptible tightness in her jaw. “My medical staff says that with the damage he suffered, even if he does wake up, he’ll be confined to his bed for the rest of his life. He took a tremendous fall down the stairs and broke his neck, you see.”

“Was that before or after he was stabbed in the liver?”

Green eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

This time, Law blatantly pushed Nami behind him, looming dangerously over the older businesswoman as they stared each other down. “Well, since I seemed to be in the habit of doing you favors, I thought I’d add to my good karma and stop by your house to see if I could do anything to heal your beloved husband. He certainly has a broken neck, and the bruises and cracked skull line up with your story, but that stab wound sticks out like a sore thumb.”

Haiko’s stone-cold expression would put a professional poker player’s to shame. “Well, the fall did break a few steps—perhaps he landed on a sharp piece of wood.”

Law’s own face was just as unreadable. “No, the size and shape clearly indicate that it was a knife. A small one that a lady could easily hide under her dress. I also noticed that your home doesn’t have any stairs.”

Her expression hardened, a fierce green fire flickering in her eyes. “Are you accusing me of harming my husband, Captain Trafalgar?”

“Haiko-ya, you’re a woman I genuinely admire—you’re cunning and determined, yet you still have standards higher than most of the criminal underworld. You’ve come a long way from that underground gin joint you started in the North Blue. You’ve spent years cleaning up the brothels and bars on Grimm; I’d certainly be upset to find my husband was conspiring to undo all of my hard work simply because he couldn’t adapt to the changing times.”

Nami held her breath as she and Law awaited her answer. This was the moment of truth.

“That’s quite the theory you have,” Haiko replied coolly, crossing her arms and raising an auburn eyebrow. The anger in her gaze dimmed down into a tranquil simmer. “Do you have any proof?”

“Nothing physical, nor do I really care—if you stabbed Kimo, I have no doubt it was well-deserved. Perhaps it was even an accident, or in self-defense.”

“Or perhaps you’re just making baseless accusations.”

“Haiko-ya, it doesn’t matter to me what really happened. If anything, I imagine you’ll be a better business partner than either of them. I simply don’t appreciate being used and lied to.”

When she gave no reply, Law gave Nami a meaningful look, gold eyes flicking down to her Clima-Tact before holding her gaze intently. “Nami-ya, why don’t you disappear for a bit? I think this is a conversation Haiko-ya and I should have without an audience.”

Catching on, she nodded, ducking inside the Polar Tang just out of sight. While Law distracted the club owner by leading her towards the edge of the pier, Nami quickly cast her Mirage Tempo, rendering herself invisible so she could sneak back over, footsteps silent as a cat’s paws. For extra measure, she crouched behind a nearby crate, peaking her head over the top so she could watch the duo’s interactions.

Law casually slung his arm over Haiko’s narrow shoulders, dropping his voice so only Nami could eavesdrop. “Look, I know power struggles are common in the underworld, and innocents getting caught in the middle happens. However, this little spat hurt two of my subordinates. I’m sure you understand that, if something like this were to happen again, I’d take it upon myself to wipe out both sides of the conflict in revenge, correct?”

The redhead stiffened. “Of course, Law.”

“Good. Because I respect your reasons—Kimo and Jinzo betrayed you. Tried to undo all your hard work because their own profits were down. Potentially even planned to slip you a little uranos out of spite. But I won’t stand for someone else’s grudge putting my crew in danger. Nor do I tolerate being used—if you want me to kill someone for you in the future, I expect you to be straight with me instead of treating me like a pawn.”

For a moment, Haiko stood in silence, staring out at the churning waves as they slapped against the pier. Finally, she spoke, voice tight and minutely vulnerable. “A few nights ago…Kimo came to Ruby 8 with a few of his thugs after closing. We argued about him helping Jinzo open a brothel under my nose—he said if I didn’t give the red light district back, he’d burn my club to the ground and put me to work as one of the whores.”

“Is that when you stabbed him?” Law asked, tone even and calm.

“Of course. Oscar and the band overheard the commotion and took care of the thugs while I ran, but Kimo followed me to the top of the stairs…”

“Well, that lines up with what Hiroshi told me. I appreciate your honesty.”

“You questioned Hiroshi?” she asked, angered at the musician’s betrayal.

“You forget—he owes me. I guess he also figured I’d be more lenient with you if I knew how you’d been backed into a corner.” Law paused, letting the tension between them simmer before he admitted, “He was right. Kimo deserved what you gave him, and if I hear he’s tragically succumbed to his wounds, well, I won’t shed any tears.”

Haiko sighed, shoulders sagging in relief. “I wanted to trust you, but you had a profitable partnership with Kimo. I couldn’t be sure whose side you’d be on—I just knew it wouldn’t be Jinzo’s.”

“A common enemy is a good hook for an alliance—I just hope you plan to be more honest with me if you intend on maintaining our partnership.”

“Of course.”

A shadow fell across his eyes as he turned the woman so she fully faced him. “Did you know about the uranos shipment?”

“No. Nor was I aware that Venus would be used to distribute it,” Haiko explained, looking him straight in the eye. “The owner was new but on the level; he had my full permission to host a Ladies Night to attract customers. When I went to confront him this morning, I found his body—he’s been dead for at least a few days.”

Nodding at her answer, Law’s somber expression relaxed. “Good. Because not telling me about Kimo and Jinzo’s betrayal is forgivable. Not warning me about the uranos…”

“I am truly sorry your girlfriend and engineer were subjected to that.”

Nami had to physically slap a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming “I’m not his girlfriend!” She doubted Haiko would appreciate it if she found out she was being spied on, and Law would be pissed that she’d ruined his plan.

Perhaps he could feel her rage, because Nami caught Law’s amber eyes glance in her general direction before returning to Haiko. “Pretty words aren’t the kind of apology I’m interested in. I expect compensation.”

Haiko’s confident, naturally seductive grim returned as she leaned in, running a finger along the Heart Pirate insignia on his sweatshirt. “Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?”

“I’m sure you’ve already thought of something—I doubt you would have come all this way just to say goodbye.”

“That I have; in fact, it’s exactly why I came down here. Two weeks ago, a man named Dira tried to sell Kimo and Jinzo some items. Most of it was junk, but there were a few things that stood out. One of them was a lovely white vase.”

“Are you seriously offering me a vase as reparations for Nami-ya and Ikkaku nearly becoming sex slaves?” he sneered, eyes narrowing in offense. Nami bristled in solidarity. She didn’t care how drop-dead gorgeous Haiko was; unless said vase was made of platinum and filled to the brim with belli and gems, she’d kick the older woman’s ass for being so cheap!

“Oh, no—the vase isn’t even here!” Haiko replied, smile never wavering despite the anger radiating from the Dark Doctor. “Once he realized what it was made from, Kimo turned it down and told the man to take his wares elsewhere.”

“And what, pray tell, was it made of?” Law asked sarcastically, patience wearing thin.

Her manicured hands reached up to smooth out the wrinkles in his sweatshirt. “At first, they thought it was marble or alabaster, but upon closer inspection, Jinzo realized that the white was just paint. It took a little arm-twisting, but Dira admitted that the vase originated from a certain tragic island in the North Blue.”

That immediately caught the surgeon’s attention, and the full focus of those golden eyes was fixated on the club owner. The hostility vanished, replaced by cool intent. “Where did he go?”

“Atifakuto. None of us wanted something coated in Amber Lead, of course, but I remembered you once mentioning that you had an interest in such items. In fact, I even have an eternal pose to the island—I took my last vacation there.” Reaching into her generous cleavage, she pulled out the hourglass-shaped device. As she handed it to the pirate captain, she fluttered her long lashes sweetly. “So, am I forgiven?”

“…for the most part. You’d better not be playing me, Haiko-ya,” Law replied, studying the magnetic compass intently, looking for anything that might give away whether or not it was fake.

“I think I’ve learned my lesson about leading on The Surgeon of Death. You did me a favor, so I’m returning in kind.” Standing up on her tip-toes, she brushed a kiss to his jaw. “I do hope you visit again soon. And treat that Cat Thief of yours right—maybe it’s the red hair, but she reminds me of myself at that age.”

“Unscrupulous and greedy?” he asked, taking her hand and pressing his own farewell kiss to her knuckles.

“And a magnet for dangerous men,” she purred as she flounced away. “Safe travels, Captain Trafalgar. Always a pleasure doing business with you.”

When the new Queenpin of Grimm was out of sight, Nami dropped her illusion, jogging over to Law. “Well, that was…quite the conversation.” Part of her was relieved—Haiko had done some shady things, but she couldn’t fault her reasons. Another part was flattered. She was a dangerous, stunning, formidable woman—someone Nami could certainly admire and wouldn’t mind becoming someday. Though, she hoped she’d manage to avoid marrying someone who’d betray her.

And one tiny, sneaky part of her burned with irrational jealousy over the fact that Haiko had kissed him. It shouldn’t matter—Law was obnoxious and arrogant and certainly not someone she had any intention of kissing when not under duress. But for some reason, she had been really tempted to use her Cyclone Tempo to knock her into the water.

“That it was. Seems a trip to Atifakuto is in order,” Law said lowly, the brim of his hat casting a shadow across his eyes as his tips twisted in a sullen frown.

Nami’s brow furrowed. She knew Law had some kind of interest in Amber Lead, but why would he want to hunt some down? “Is that our next destination?”

He rubbed his goatee in brooding thought as his eyes fixated on the delicate needle pointing towards the horizon. Nami could practically see the wheels in his head turning, an internal argument raging in his mind. His body was as stiff as a cadaver’s, the tendons in his neck straining as he held in whatever powerful emotions he was feeling.

Finally, he shoved the eternal pose into his pocket and answered, “Not yet. I promised you the next island we landed on would be far more relaxing, and I need time to plan, anyway. But don’t expect a long vacation; I can’t let the trail grow cold.”

She sighed in relief. After the horrors of Grimm, she was in desperate need of a breather. Especially if they ended up going after an artifact from Flevance; she’d only heard tragic stories about that place. How they’d once been prosperous and highly-renowned, until the whole country had come down with a horrible, incurable disease. A disease that, if Law was to be believed, hadn’t been as contagious as the World Government had claimed.

Before she could ask any questions, Law pressed his hand between her shoulders, gently but insistently leading her towards the Polar Tang. The darkness in his expression had faded significantly, and his sly smirk was back in place. It felt phony, though—like a mask. “By the way, I appreciate you staying close. Considering what she did to her husband, I half expected Haiko-ya to stab me and push me off the pier.”

“Yeah, I figured you only wanted me there so I could save your ass,” she snipped, though her heart wasn’t quite in it. Law had berated Haiko about being honest with him, yet it felt like he was putting up a front with her. Sure, it wasn’t quite the same—Haiko had been using him, while Law seemed to be just keeping his thoughts to himself—but the slight hypocrisy grated at her.

At the same time, she couldn’t entirely fault him for it. Their relationship and sense of trust in each other had certainly improved over the past twenty-four hours, but she couldn’t blame him for not enlightening her to his troubled thoughts. She only hoped he’d confide in Penguin or Bepo.

“The singular pitfall of wielding the awesome power of a Devil Fruit—water is your nemesis,” he replied sourly.

“Then why’d you lead her so close to the dock’s edge?”

“To make her feel less threatened. Her husband attacked in her own bar. Ruby 8 is as much home to her as the Tang is to us. People value that illusion of safety; when it’s compromised, especially by someone we should trust, it can turn someone into a skittish, feral animal.”

“Ah. Yeah, makes sense,” she replied as they stepped through the submarine door. He definitely had a point—if she’d been attacked on the Thousand Sunny, a place she’d always felt safe and secure in, she’d probably be on-edge for months. “It was still a risky move, though.”

“But a calculated one. Did you really think I’d accuse a woman as cunning and dangerous as her without a plan, or at least a basic understanding of how her mind works?” he asked, dark blue eyebrow raised in annoyance.

“No, but are you confident enough in that understanding to guarantee she’s not sending us to our deaths?”

“Another reason to take a slight detour and recover our strength before heading to Atifakuto,” he said nonchalantly, smirk becoming darker but more genuine. “I’m not particularly worried, though. Haiko and I think alike in many ways; she values long-term planning. She knows she only has one shot at killing me, so she wouldn’t risk it all on a scheme she threw together in a day. She’d wait until I least expected it, even if it took years, all the while carefully moving the pieces into place. And when she struck, she’d get the outcome she wanted no matter how the cards fell.”

“Do you…have someone you’re planning to kill?” Nami asked, a hint of nervousness bleeding into her voice. “Because you sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“No one you’ve met, and no one you’d miss,” he said vaguely, his hand finally moving from her back so he could climb down the ladder to the next level. “You should worry more about getting stronger and preparing for the New World; Bepo tells me you’re finally ready to start combat training.”

“Let’s just say Grimm’s been a bit of an eye-opener,” she replied, carefully climbing down after him. Her heeled sandals made a reverberating clank as she stepped down onto the metal floor. “Luffy can’t risk me being a liability—if I can’t handle myself in Paradise, I’ll stand no chance on the other side of the Red Line.”

“Exactly why I’m willing to train you—I’d hate to have put in all that effort into saving Mugiwara just for his crew to bring him down.”

Nami glared at him, but he ignored her all the way to his quarters. Upon realizing she’d followed him, his eyebrow arched upwards again, though this time in amusement. “Were you looking for something, Nami-ya? A private tour of the captain’s bedroom, maybe?”

She blushed slightly at his suggestive tone but held her ground. “You gave me crap about keeping secrets from you, and yet you spew out the most irritating non-answers when I ask you a simple question. Your hypocrisy is infuriating.”

“I gave you crap about keeping secrets relevant to your well-being,” he countered easily, slipping inside his room. “Your tenure as a Heart Pirate will be long done by the time I enact my revenge, so it’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over, sweetheart.”

Before she could reply or even get a good look at the inside of his quarters, he shut the door in her face.

Staring at the steel barrier, Nami felt her stomach twist uncomfortably.

She trusted Law. She knew he was sincere in his desire to help her train for the New World. That he would protect her until she returned to Weatheria at the end of the year.

She also trusted her gut, and it was screaming that he had ulterior motives. That this generosity, along with his rescue of Luffy, had something to do with some long-term plan.

Trafalgar Law was the lesser evil now, but how long until that changed?

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doritopaw101 · 4 years ago

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Arc1, book 1: Chapter 14

Sunhigh came and went as the cats made their way through Windclan's old hunting grounds. Their heavy silence showed that they were still sore after the rat fight. Icepaw felt scratched and bitten all over. He could see Graypaw limping, occasionally hopping on three legs to protect his injured back left leg. Ravenpaw was trying not to draw to much attention to his back and tail which were littered with bites. Leopardstorm's shoulder had been bitten harshly and it looked like he was favoring a paw. Tiger-roar was the only one really able to truly hide his pain but Icepaw knew that the large bite on his front right leg must hurt. But is was Bluestar who worried him the most. Her pace was even slower now, but she refused to stop and rest. The grim look on her face, clouded by pain, told Icepaw how much she wanted to reach the Thunderclan camp.

"Don't worry about any Shadowclan warriors" she mewed through gritted teeth as Tiger-roar paused to sniff the air. "You won't find any here today"

Icepaw wondered how could she be so sure but something dreadful clicked in his head, he dreaded returning to camp now but knew why they had to keep moving.

They picked their way carefully down the steep, rocky hill-side that led to Fourtrees and joined the familiar trail that led home.

"I can still smell the stench of Shadowclan" Graypaw muttered to Icepaw as they trekked through Thunderclan's hunting grounds. He slightly leaned on Icepaw and he let him.

"They attack us all the time, its bound to stick" he suggested, it was a lie and an excuse and he knew it.

Suddenly Ravenpaw stopped, he wore a look of horror "Do you guys hear that?"

Icepaw could hear it: battle-hungry yowls and the shrill squeal of terrified kits.

"Move now!" Bluestar howled "Starclan warned me about this, Shadowclan can not continue these attacks!" She tried to leap forward, but stumbled. She pushed herself up and limped onward.

Tiger-roar,Leopardstorm, and Icepaw pelted forward side by side. Graypaw and Ravenpaw followed, their tail fur bristled to twice its usual size. Icepaw forgot his soreness as he charged toward the camp. His only concern was protect the clan, his clan.

The sounds of battle grew louder and louder as he neared the camp entrance, and the stench of Shadowclan filled his nostrils. He was right behind Tiger-roar as the cats dashed through the tunnel and into the clearing.

They were met by a frenzy of fighting, Thunderclan cats battling furiously with Shadowclan warriors. The kits were out of sight, and Icepaw hoped they were safely hidden in the nursery.

Every corner of the camp seemed alive with warriors. Icepaw could see Frostbite battling with Boulderpelt while Goldenflower fought Lizardstripe. Even Brindleface was fighting, though they looked very close to kitting. Darkstripe was locked in a fierce tussle with Wolfstep. Smallear, Sparrowpelt, Patchpelt, and White-eye, were nipping bravely at a tortoiseshell who fought with twice their speed and ferocity. His heart stopped when he recognized the tortoiseshell as...his mother.

The returning cats hurled themselves into the battle. Icepaw rushed at the molly as Patchpelt flung her away when she tried to snap Smallear's neck. He tackled his mother to the ground. Front paws planted into her chest fur, claws digging in.

"Surprise mother" he sneered, planting more pressure

His birth-giver stared at him with shock, she then smirked "My little runt, what a surprise" she kicked his stomach with her back legs, her claws were unsheathed making him wince.

"Did you leave your new litter or have you tried to fuck them up like us?" He swiped at her ears, she still had milk scent on her.

"I've done what was best" Nutmeg spat, teeth bared

"Sure, maybe you told them to be something there not" Icepaw growled. Nutmeg's amber eyes blazed, she dodged his blow and disappeared into the fray. Icepaw huffed, this was not the time but he would get it later.

He felt himself pinned by Clawface, the tom's scarred face curled in a blood-driven smirk. He saw Lionheart stare at the display "Lionheart-" Clawface shoved his paw into his neck causing him to gag and the older tom flipped him and shoved him more into the ground. The golden brown was now fighting Tangleburr.

'Basturd' Icepaw hissed in his head

He felt the weight shoved off when he saw Nightshade pull the ragged tom off of him. Nightshade nodded at him before wrestling the brown tom.

'Great he needed Nightshade's help, she'll never let this go' he thought with anger

In his fury, Icepaw caught the hold of a cream and brown molly he knew as Rowanberry, she was not much larger than him but she was Shadowclan and they were on the smaller and leaner side. He sank her teeth deep into her left back leg. She yowled with pain and turned on him, lashing out with sharp claws and lunging at his neck with her teeth bared. He twisted and ducked to avoid her bite. She couldn't match his speed, and managed to grasp her from behind and pull her down into the dirt. With his hind legs he clawed at her back till she squealed and struggled away from, running headlong into the thick undergrowth that surrounded the camp.

Icepaw was tackled and was met by a familiar face of the newly named Whitethroat. He slashed at Whitethroat's cheek "Get out of here, hasn't your clan done enough to us" he spat

Whitethroat's blue eyes darkened "You think I wanted this?" the black tom replied nicking his ear

Icepaw was pissed. He ducked Whitethroat's next blow and went for the other tom's left back leg. He would've went for the black tom's belly if not for the fact it was clear the tom was expecting so he settled for the leg as he sank his teeth in harshly.

"The only reason you're not bleeding pools is because you're knocked up"

"Lucky me" Whitethroat hissed

He wasn't letting go when Whitethroat tried to buck him off. He let go and watched Whitethroat disappear into the fray, limping a little as he did so.

Icepaw glanced around to see that Bluestar had arrived. Despite her injuries, she was fighting Scorchfang. He struggled to escape but she held him tightly and clawed him so fiercely that Icepaw knew he would bear the scars of this fight for many moons.

Then, he saw Blackfoot drag Rosetail away from the nursery. The two deputies fought harshly, Blackfoot swiped at her but Nutwhisker came out of nowhere and ran past them to the nursery but he shoved Rosetail in the process making Blackfoot's blow go to her neck instead of her shoulder. Rosetail coughed and fell to the ground, Blackfoot looked slightly shocked while Nutwhisker began to reach into the bramble nest with one paw. The kits were squealing and mewling, undefended now as their mothers wrested with other Shadowclan warriors in the clearing.

Mossthorn was fighting Toadpelt, somewhat weakly but fighting with all she could. 'They must've kitten earlier' Icepaw realized

Icepaw charged at him with fury. He deserved to suffer, to die, as they say a life for a life. Icepaw leaped onto Blackfoot's back and sank his teeth in, he also clawed his right cheek a bit. He could have done more but Mosspaw and Barkfoot smacked him off. They held him down. Icepaw watched helplessly as Mudfoot and Nutwhisker began taking the kits, he saw Blackfoot dash in as well padding back out with Swiftkit and Smokekit in his jaws.

Suddenly in a flash the weight was knocked off him. He saw a dark gray pelt of Yellowfang. The old molly struck Blackfoot's cheek showing one deep claw mark making the tom drop the kits.

"Hiding with the mouse-chasers my dear older sister" Nutwhisker sneered

Yellowfang snarled and struck the tom across the face half-blinding him "You're no brother of mine Nutwhisker" she leaped on him and the two siblings fought.

Icepaw sprung upward as the warrior had been distracted by the confrontation. He showed no mercy, plunging his teeth into Barkfoot's shoulder. Barkfoot yowled and flung him off then dashed away into the undergrowth.

There were now only a few Shadowclan cats left in the camp. Sandpaw and Dustpaw were fighting side by side lashing out at Darkflower until she fled howling into the bushes. Leopardstorm and Darkstripe chased the last two intruders out of the camp, sending them off with a few extra scratches and bites.

He saw Nutmeg pinning Graypaw down, lifting an unsheathed paw. He didn't really think as he rushed at her and knocking her away from the gray tom. She tried to run for it but he wasn't letting her leave without injury. He bit her tail and clawed her back leg causing her to fall and he pinned her down "Where do you think you're going bitch?"

For the first time in his life he saw genuine fear in his birth giver's amber eyes "Get off me Splinter, I can't be here"

She only ever called him her brat or her spawn, never Splinter or son, not like she acknowledged his gender anyway and said it was a phase "Too bad" he scoffed "I haven't seen you in moons and this is the only time and reserve the right to rip into your pelt"

Nutmeg snarled but Icepaw had her firm in his grip. They were in the center of the clearing but no one was really paying attention.

Cats were moving to help others. Mousefur and Birchstep were helping Sparrowpelt and White-eye stand. Goldenflower and Speckletail were helping Lionheart, like the prick deserved it after he didn't help him with Clawface, at least he could depend on Nightshade.

"Yellowfang help, Cranepaw won't stop bleeding" Willowpelt called

Cats were surprised with her words but Yellowfang didn't hesitate to help. "Get me more cobwebs!" the old cat hissed at Dustpaw to which the tabby obeyed.

"Dewflare!" Robinwing spat causing everyone to turn their heads to the center "You have some nerve to show your face here after what you did?"

"She was attacking the elders" Patchpelt growled "Clawed Sparrowpelt real good in the face"

"She tried to kill Leopardfoot!" Miststrike screeched

"What?!" Tiger-roar and Nightshade hissed, the black molly made an enraged step towards Dewflare.

"No I didn't" Dewflare snapped "Nutwhisker tried to killed her, coward ran when she wasn't just a sag of old bones and fucked up good in the ear"

"You're Dewflare!?" Icepaw screeched

"Fox-dung should've died during the wolf attack" Dewflare sneered "Get off me Splinter"

"Fuck you" he retorted claws digging into her chest causing her to wheeze

"Icepaw" Bluestar mewed, her voice cold as her eyes which were set on Dewflare "Do you know Dewflare?"

Icepaw was confused, he told Bluestar already. "She's my mother" he replied

The clan gasped in shock, Gingerblaze's looked the most shocked of all.

"You had more kits?!" Robinwing snarled

"You act like when I left I couldn't have more Robin" Dewflare sneered "You know me better than that old friend"

"Don't you dare call me that you traitor" Robinwing hissed. Icepaw never saw her so pissed, he was still in shock about the whole situation.

Bluestar curled her lip "Get out and don't come back"

Dewflare shoved Icepaw off her "Gladly" she headed for the entrance but she stopped for a moment "Eh Gingerblaze, say hi to your little sister" she then disappeared into the gorse tunnel.

Icepaw's felt his heart stop with those words. Gingerblaze was his brother? He lifted his head and his red eyes locked with Gingerblaze's. He looked just as uncomfortable. A yowl from Bluestar caught his attention. He saw Rosetail's body, blood pooling around her. Cherrypaw, Chestnutpaw, Ravenpaw, and Dustpaw were all crowded around her, Fuzzypelt was close by but Robinwing seemed too pissed about Dewflare to care.

"Spottedleaf? Featherwhisker?" she asked

"Rosetail was our only death" the pale gray tom answered, coughing as he did

"Who'll care for Doekit, Volekit, and Adderkit?" Patchpelt asked

"I'll do it" Embereyes replied "I'll care for them"

"My kits!" Frostbite wailed "My kits are gone!" she buried her face in Lionheart's mane who looked just as distraught "They took Brackenkit,Lichenkit, Thornkit, and Brightkit"

"They took Cinderkit!" Mossthorn cried, Leopardstorm holding them close

"Yellowfang probably helped Shadowclan attack us" Darkstripe snarled, pushing his way through the crowd

"Bullshit" Icepaw spat, thrusting his muzzle in Darkstripe's face "She helped defend the nursery and turned against her brother Nutwhisker"

"Bluestar" Lionheart called "we need to do something"

His leader wasn't looking at anyone, her head down.

Everyone was saying something to her and it was clear to Icepaw that it wasn't helping.

"Enough!" Icepaw was right "We can't do anything right now" she looked away, her head falling in defeat "Rest please"

"Who'll be deputy now?" Speckletail asked

Bluestar didn't answer, her fur spiked with anger and grief.

"Bluestar, Chestnutpaw and Cherrypaw fought well in the battle" Nightshade commented "We'll need more warriors if we ever go get the kits"

Bluestar stopped "Ravenpaw? Dustpaw?"

"Dustpaw's too injured in the leg" Thymepaw mewed "Ravenpaw is okay"

"I'll stay an apprentice" Ravenpaw mewed "So Dustpaw won't be alone"

"Fine"

The apprentices looked shocked but stepped forward.

Bluestar's voice while struck with grief managed it's proud and strong tone it always did "Chestnutpaw Cherrypaw do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect your clan at all cost even at the cost of your life" Bluestar drifted her icy gaze to the gray tabby pelt of Rosetail as she spoke.

"I do" They all mewed in mewed in unison

"Then by the powers of Starclan I give you your warrior names, Cherrypaw from this moment forward you shall be known as Cherrycloud your clan honors you for your level-headedness and your kindness and Chestnutpaw from this moment on you shall be known as Chestnutclaw your clan honors you for your strength and sharpness"

"Cherrycloud Cherrycloud Chestnutclaw Chestnutclaw" the clan cheered as the new warriors beamed in pride. Robinwing smirked off to the side while Fuzzypelt padded over to them with a proud smile.

"Thunderclan we have work to do we will fight back and get Mossthorn and Frostbite's kits back but first we must rebuild our strength and our camp, Chestnutclaw Cherrycloud you shall sit vigil later, The new deputy is Redtail, meeting dismissed "

The clan had spread out as soon as Bluestar leaped off the high rock quickly getting to work.

/////////////////

Whitethroat limped behind the group, Shadowstar's nine lives Icepaw can fight. He didn't know why he was surprised, Tiger-roar was his mentor.

He was lagging behind as the group quickened their pace as they wanted to get back to their territory as quickly as possible. He hadn't wanted to attack Icepaw at all but he didn't have a choice. They had come to fight but also for something else, kits, they got a few but Yellowfang stopped them before they could take more.

"I want Mossthorn!" a pointed dark gray kitten wailed

"Let me go!" a golden brown kit hisses

"Shut up before I snap your necks" Jaggedtooth snarled

"Don't say that" Clawface growled "Brokenstar determines if we do or not"

Whitethroat tired to keep up but he felt a sharp pain shoot through him and knew his kits were coming, he noticed Darkflower and Poppyflower slowly their pace to meet his. "How's your leg? Icepaw sure gave you a beating"

"It's still attached" he replied weakly as he leaned on Darkflower "I'll live"

"What about your belly?" Poppyflower asked

"They're coming" he mewed

Darkflower and Poppyflower kept close to him "Hold on, your mother's worried sick already"

His mother loved him very much and was on him like a hawk. He guessed it was because of how Shadowclan's condition was and how his father died before he was born. It was surprised many of how she had such a close relationship with her kit when most Shadowclan cats distance themselves from their kits over time. He knew she would probably be the same with Foxkit though he hoped less since Wolfstep was around.

"Your leg should be fine after a few days" Palecloud sniffed "Just don't put to much pressure on it in the meantime" he sniffed the kit at his belly "a healthy molly, our daughter is healthy though slightly smaller"

"He should learn to walk it off" Mudfoot growled "Real warriors bare pain in silence, unlike you Runningnose, why Brokenstar wanted you of all cats to breed is beyond me"

Palecloud curled his tail over his paws, he was shaking "N..not e...ev...every...everyone...i..is..l..li..like...y..you" he stuttered

"Good" Mudfoot spat slamming Palecloud to the ground "It separates the weak like you from the strong like me" he pinned Palecloud in a way which looked like mating.

Palecloud motioned with his paw for Whitethroat to leave with their daughter. Mudfoot won't kill Palecloud unless Brokenstar commands it, never mind that Palecloud is his son, he only calls Barkfoot and Tangleburr his kits, in his and Lizardstripe's eyes Palecloud was weak, dead weight on the clan despite being the only seer.

Whitethroat nodded to the white and gray tom and slipped away and made his way to the nursery. He saw Clawface and Cinderfur dragging Rowanberry out of camp. Her pelt was bleeding and left a blood trail behind but he smelled Jaggedtooth's scent on her. Punished

Wasn't the first time something like this happened but Whitethroat tried not to think about it.

"It's time she had more kits anyway" he heard Jaggedtooth sneer, licking his bloodied paw.

Whitethroat tried not to think out about as he ducked his head into the nursery entrance, his daughter mewling. The once proud looking den looked very wrecked. It still carried it's milk scent on the inside but also smelled awful at the same time, but not as bad as the apprentice and especially the elder's den did.

Dawncloud was laying close to the entrance, laying on her side. She looked so weak and frail, it was a miracle she could stand at all. Fernshade and Newtspeck did take some of her work load but Brokenstar liked having at them at his side constantly so it was mostly on Dawncloud to care for the kits.

"Whitethroat?" Dawncloud mewed weakly

"...I kitted and the Thunder kits.." he trailed off unsure how to continue

"Right here" Dawncloud lifted her bushy tail to see five larger kits sleeping soundly "They just went to sleep"

"Where's-"

"Brokenstar is having them train, I doubt they'll live through it" Dawncloud mewed sadly, she lifted her head to his daughter "What's her name?"

"Hollowkit" it matched the feelings in his heart

"She looks just like you" Dawncloud weakly smiled as she started groom Hollowkit

"I'll nurse her til I have to go"

"Are you sure?"

"If it helps you yes, I'll nurse some of the others too"

Dawncloud nodded and nudged Hollowkit to his belly to which the kit quickly latched on. She gently brought Flykit, Beekit, Foggykit, and a kit he didn't recognize.

"Who's kit-"

"Lizardstripe and Mudfoot's newest kit, Lizardkit to keep the tradition, they have two more: Adderkit and Muddykit"

"How'd you think the Great Lizardpelt would react to what his descendants have come to"

"Shame" Dawncloud muttered, Roachkit mewed weakly and was head-butting her leg. Dawncloud chuckled and started grooming the kitten.

Whitethroat craned his head "Who are you watching?"

"I'm watching Dewflare's kits: Roachkit, Beekit, and Flykit. Oak-kit. The Thunder kits are Thornkit, Brightkit, Lichenkit, Brackenkit, and Cinderkit. Marshshadow and Blazefang are watching their kits right now as well as Rowanberry's new litter in Beetlekit"

"Viperkit lived?"

"Yes she did, Blazefang refused to let her die after Brokenstar took care of Marigoldkit and Mintkit and with most of Rowanberry's litter gone already"

"Brokenstar knocked up anyone else?"

"You know Tangleburr and Dewflare's kits are his, He and Darkflower had a litter of Dirtkit and Rottingkit was born awhile ago, I believe Newtspeck is expecting his kits now as well"

Whitethroat sighed "Rest up"

Dawncloud smiled sadly "What else can I do?"

He padded back out of the nursery and headed to the fresh-kill, silently hoping something was there. He's eyes brighten when he saw a small mouse to which he quickly ate without any hesitation. It wouldn't make him full but it was a decent meal for now at least. Whitethroat tried to make it back to the warriors den, but he felt Toadpelt pulling his tail. He swiped Toadpelt across the face, hitting his eye.

"Fuck!" he hissed

The fur on Whitethroat's back rose with annoyance. "What do you want?"

Toadpelt stopped holding his eye and lunged at him. The two wrested on the ground, hissing and spitting. They were both trained by Brokenstar they knew the tricks. It went on for a few moments until they were separated by Clawface, Jaggedtooth and Cinderfur.

Cindefur pulled his brother away "Brokenstar gave you simple orders, first you attack Duskpaw instead of talking now this"

Duskpaw was a cat Brokenstar invited into the clan, a cat who fell for his lies. Brokenstar made it clear Duskpaw couldn't escape. Duskpaw was currently on rat duty as far as he knew.

Toadpelt said nothing, his legs buckled a little. Jaggedtooth padded to Whitethroat's side "Yes Toadpelt, Brokenstar doesn't want his niece injured"

"Excuse me?" Whitethroat hissed

Clawface turned his attention to Whitethroat "He wants you in his den"

Whitethroat nodded and padded over to the hollowed den. He saw Blackfoot and Boulderpelt standing guard and nodded to them.

"Anything bad?" he muttered

"Depends on what you mean by bad at this point in time" Boulderpelt replied plainly

"He's 'occupied' at the moment as a warning" Blackfoot added "Said something about you and a mate"

Whitethroat knew this was going to happen but didn't think it would be this soon after his kitting. He padded into the den, the scent of blood and mating hit his nose sharply. He saw Brokenstar but Dewflare wasn't beneath him like he thought she would be. He had Houndpaw under him, her sister Sootpaw to the side under Mossclaw. Brokenstar hated the names Dappleclaw chose so he renamed them: Mottle to Hound and Murk to Soot.

The two apprentices were wailing in pain and agony but their cries were ignored. Whitethroat could try to do something but...

He could Brokenstar and Mossclaw's release, watched Mossclaw pulled Sootpaw's scruff in the process.

Whitethroat didn't think he was scared of much anymore but he was wrong when Brokenstar turned his head and held this horrific smirk.

"Ah Whitethroat you're here" he pulled out of Houndpaw, the apprentice's whimpers never stopping. "Come here and play with your uncle"

Whitethroat backed up immediately but he felt something behind him, he turned his head to see Barkfoot and Nutwhisker.

"You think you're leaving" Brokenstar laughed "You're not leaving til we're all satisfied my dear niece"

///////////////////////////////////

Icepaw had worked to the bone with trying to rebuild the warriors den. The clan was tired and hurt and they needed rest so Bluestar called it and sent everyone to rest. They held Rosetail's burial afterwards. Cherrycloud and Chestnutclaw were having there vigil.

Though as everyone went to rest, Chestnutclaw had sounded an alarm when someone stumbled into camp. It was a Windclan cat named Whitetail. They already knew Windclan had been chased out but didn't think any of the cats were still in the forest. Whitetail, heavily pregnant begged Bluestar to her stay since Brokenstar had almost caught in her old hiding spot and Bluestar allowed her to stay letting her settle in the nursery.

He had been pretty tired himself. He actually ended up falling down in the middle of camp as rain began to pour. His eyes fluttered as he tried to fight to keep them open but he was failing miserably.

He heard a cat padded up to him and expected a sharp comeback in Tiger-roar but had been surprised when he saw white fur. His first thought was Leopardstorm but he saw the eyes and knew it was Frostbite. He felt teeth fasten into his scruff and drag him into the nursery. He was placed in a nest with Frostbite holding him close.

"Frost-"

"Shush Sleep" the white molly mewed softly, grooming his ears.

Icepaw sighed and let sleep flood over him as the world went black.

3 notes · View notes

f4liveblogarchives · 5 years ago

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Fantastic Four Vol. 1 Annual 1979

Thu Sep 12 2019 [09:09 PM] Wack'd: That's right, 1979, even though it's 1980 [09:09 PM] Umbramatic: THE 80S [09:09 PM] Wack'd: Marvel Wiki kinda has to cram these things back into canon whenever there's a break in the action [09:10 PM] maxwellelvis: Which there wasn't really for any of 1979, it seems [09:10 PM] Wack'd: Yeah [09:10 PM] Umbramatic: i would make an 80s joke but that was before my time [09:10 PM] maxwellelvis: Was that the longest arc they've had so far? The space adventure [09:11 PM] Wack'd: I don't know why this couldn't have happened before that but whatever. The alternative is that I create my own timeline and the team is excruciating [09:11 PM] Wack'd: The space adventure was pretty hecking long, yeah [09:12 PM] Wack'd: So we open in media res, with a Sandman fight. Resolved by Sue force-fielding him and Johnny using his fire to freeze him into crystal [09:12 PM] Wack'd: Which I'm pretty sure should kill him but whatever [09:13 PM] Wack'd: He'll be fine [09:13 PM] Umbramatic: sandman: "this is fine" [09:13 PM] maxwellelvis: Really shows the differing level of threat Sandman provokes between Spider-Man and the Fantastic Four [09:14 PM] Wack'd: The president of the bank Sandman was robbing gives the Four a reward: [09:14 PM] Wack'd: A cat calendar [09:14 PM] Umbramatic: cats [09:15 PM] Wack'd: This is canon forever now

[09:15 PM] Umbramatic: AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW [09:15 PM] maxwellelvis: It's priceless! Literally worthless! [09:15 PM] maxwellelvis: Oh, Ben likes it. I can't make fun of it anymore. [09:16 PM] Umbramatic: i love ben [09:16 PM] Wack'd: Also: Franklin wants to join the Four! Reed says maybe when he's older, as though that's a real thing that will someday really happens [09:16 PM] maxwellelvis: lmao [09:17 PM] Umbramatic: don't worry it'll happen once ash ketchum turns 11 [09:17 PM] Wack'd: Agatha has come up from Whisper Hill to invite the Four and Franklin to vacation with her to New Salem! I'm sure this can only go well [09:18 PM] maxwellelvis: We're only going on vacation to the haunted town we barely got out of last time with our skins, in a double-length issue. [09:18 PM] maxwellelvis: What could possibly go wrong? [09:19 PM] Wack'd: An interesting device that's been happening over the past four pages is that at the bottom of each page there's been a horizontal-one-panel cutaway to an occult ritual happening. [09:19 PM] Wack'd: I can't really screenshot that but it's really neat [09:20 PM] Umbramatic: oooooh [09:20 PM] Wack'd: Hahahhaahaa

[09:21 PM] Umbramatic: rip ben [09:21 PM] Umbramatic: he just wants to go to disney world [09:22 PM] Wack'd: So they land at the airport, rent a car, and drive to New Salem. But Ben has trouble finding it, naturally [09:23 PM] Wack'd: Oh look, I found Waldo

[09:23 PM] Umbramatic: but did you find his girlfriend carmen sandiego [09:25 PM] maxwellelvis: Dear lord, we've stumbled into a Renaissance faire! Everyone run! [09:25 PM] Wack'd: Some real good layouts here. George Pérez: great at his job

[09:25 PM] Wack'd: Also: Johnny nearly gets his soul sucked out [09:26 PM] Bocaj: It Happens [09:26 PM] maxwellelvis: Gordon and Susan from Sesame Street have joined Agatha's coven, apparently. [09:26 PM] Wack'd: Well, they're the baddies [09:26 PM] Wack'd: So that stinks [09:26 PM] maxwellelvis: Never trust people who hang out with puppets. [09:27 PM] maxwellelvis: Who know what all the people in your neighborhood do. [09:27 PM] Wack'd: Also if you notice from the two-page spread, apparently the only black people in town 😬 [09:28 PM] Umbramatic: oh [09:28 PM] Bocaj: Bad show, comic [09:29 PM] Wack'd: So the Ceremony of Renewal happens. And what is supposed to be a remembrance ceremony for people killed in the witch hunts and a way to re-energize all of the townsfolks gets hijacked by those guys from the blue panels, who steal all the magical energies to bring back...this dingus.

[09:30 PM] Wack'd: Of all of the things you could've possibly done with unlimited magic energy, really? This guy? [09:30 PM] Umbramatic: dingus [09:30 PM] Wack'd: Oh right the blue panel guys were his henchmen. His impossibly dumb-looking henchmen

[09:31 PM] Wack'd: Was the one third from the right always so...Marge Simpson? [09:31 PM] maxwellelvis: FEED ME EGGS, HOMER [09:32 PM] Bocaj: oh hey i recognize some of these dinguses from the scarlet witch vision miniseries [09:32 PM] Bocaj: When Vision dryhumped babies into Wanda [09:32 PM] maxwellelvis: Somebody brought them back again?! [09:32 PM] Bocaj: 'pparently [09:33 PM] Wack'd: Fight fight fight [09:34 PM] Wack'd: Marv Wolfman: A Man Who Knows A Lot About Gazelles

[09:37 PM] Wack'd: Reed, shattering or otherwise bypassing force fields is a fucking gimme power for your villains. You say you want to fight the Fantastic Four and you get "ignoring force fields" in your complimentary gift bag

[09:37 PM] Bocaj: Reed is dumb [09:38 PM] Wack'd: So the Four get their asses thoroughly kicked [09:39 PM] Wack'd: Normally this would be the part where we cut away, and they all wake up in a prison cell which they break out of, and the plot proceeds [09:39 PM] Wack'd: But this time is different [09:39 PM] Wack'd: And Marv Wolfman is not going to just ignore the fact that this small child has just seen his entire family get beat unconscious [09:40 PM] Wack'd:

[09:42 PM] Wack'd: Franklin uses the power of inconsolable sadness and fear [09:42 PM] Wack'd: It's...*sniff*...it's super-effective [09:43 PM] Bocaj: huh [09:43 PM] Wack'd: Seriously. I like this scene a lot [09:43 PM] Umbramatic: awwwwww [09:44 PM] Wack'd: I like that we're being forced to reckon with the danger Franklin is regularly in. And the fact that he's just a kid. And that for him to use powers he doesn't know he has--for him to be the deus ex machina we routinely mock--he has to be in a real dark place [09:44 PM] Wack'd: And I like Agatha acknowledging that this is hard for him and comforting him [09:46 PM] Wack'd: So uh. Meanwhile. The Salem Seven are conducting a ritual on the roof of the Baxter Building to destroy the Four and give Nick Scratch corporeal form [09:47 PM] Wack'd: This for some reason involves generating a massive force field, gradually pushing all the people of Manhattan back as it encompasses the city [09:48 PM] Wack'd: Spider-Man, the Avengers, and the Defenders all try to break through, but fail [09:49 PM] Wack'd: Only Agatha and Franklin can break through--after all, Agatha's more powerful than her son. (The comic takes this as a given, despite Franklin's existence. Maybe it's a magic thing) [09:49 PM] maxwellelvis: It's gotta be the combined power of the entire Salem Seven that's locked Dr. Strange and Silver Surfer out of the bubble. [09:50 PM] maxwellelvis: Fewer than that and either of them could have broken through no prob, assuming that's the Defenders line-up we're talking about [09:50 PM] maxwellelvis: the Dr. Strange, Silver Surfer, Hulk, and Namor team [09:50 PM] Wack'd: It's not. [09:50 PM] maxwellelvis: Oh [09:51 PM] Wack'd: There's whoever the fuck this is

[09:52 PM] maxwellelvis: I know that guy but I can't remember his name. [09:52 PM] maxwellelvis: Oh, it says right there, Nighthawk [09:52 PM] Wack'd: So forgettable I forgot his name moments after reading it [09:53 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, the Salem Seven's spells are easily deflected. So are the ghostly Nick's attempts to stop her with hail, fire, and lightning [09:53 PM] Bocaj: Nighthawk: strong as two strong guys at night. Owns a jetpack. Is Batman but Somehow Worse. [09:54 PM] Wack'd:

Nick: Why won't you die, blast you?! Agatha: Because I am your mother, Nicholas.

[09:54 PM] Bocaj: Hah [09:54 PM] Mousa The 14: Damn [09:55 PM] Mousa The 14: Someone call the cops, I’d like to report a familicide [09:55 PM] Umbramatic: ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh [09:55 PM] Mousa The 14: This woman completely obliterated her son [09:55 PM] maxwellelvis: Oh snap [09:55 PM] Mousa The 14: Yes he deserved it, just figured you’d all wanna know [09:55 PM] Wack'd: Agatha and Franklin make their way into the Baxter Building where a brainwashed Fantastic Four are waiting. [09:56 PM] Wack'd: Franklin 🥺

[09:57 PM] Mousa The 14: This is legitimately genuinely terrifying [09:57 PM] Mousa The 14: Like, jesus christ that's horrifying [09:57 PM] Umbramatic: y i p e [09:57 PM] Mousa The 14: Like this big friendly ol' teddy bear unle Ben Grimm crushing a child to death [09:57 PM] maxwellelvis: "Thank you, Nicholas Scratch, I feel much better now" [09:57 PM] Mousa The 14: has to be one of the most horryfing ideas in my mind right now [09:58 PM] Wack'd: Fortunately, Franklin manages to break their mind control with the power of love. Also being a god [09:58 PM] Umbramatic: Jesus Christ, how horrifying! [09:58 PM] Bocaj: Unleash your annihilation of love [09:59 PM] Wack'd: And Agatha sets right what has once gone wrong

[10:01 PM] Wack'd: And so the story ends with...Ben complaining there's no reward? I guess?

[10:02 PM] Wack'd: Probably should've ended on a more Franklin centered note [10:02 PM] Wack'd: But overall I like this one a lot [10:02 PM] maxwellelvis: Agatha erased the cat poster from his memory, I assume [10:02 PM] Mousa The 14: I can’t believe we let this woman fall into lost history, she should be in every F4 adaptation [10:03 PM] Wack'd: She's great, yeah

#1980 #Marv Wolfman #George Pérez #The Main Book

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sinfvls · 5 years ago

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hey all you cool cats and kittens ! it’s carole desi from big cat rescue and i’m here to deliver a tubular trio to this glorious group. i’ve been on the hunt for a solid supernatural rp for idk how long and i’m so stoked to find a home in bloodshq & begin writing / plotting with every single one of you ! admittedly, their backgrounds are pretty underwhelming because they’re all new muses ( lord help me ) and i’m still getting a feel for them, and i have just a few wanted connections up for grabs listed at the end of each of their blurbs, so if you see any that strike your interest please feel free to slide into my ims ( but i’m also super open to anything, so feel free to hit me with your ideas too ! ) & now without further ado, i give you DAMON BELMONT , NICHOLAS SPENCER & VERONA ADLER.

damon belmont has been seen walking the seattle streets. the werewolf has been in town for one week, and are known to be aloof but also very loyal. the thirty seven year old is the vice president of the mongrels motorcycle club. if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble charlie hunnam. their pronouns are he/him. damon’s werewolf gene is triggered.

statistics & connections

doesn’t know who his parents are / were. he was found abandoned in the woods of hayfork, california as a wee babe by a pair of hikers. tossed into the social system, he hopped from foster home to foster home, until finally sticking with a woman named delilah belmont, who eventually opted to adopt him.

she lived off the grid, in the backwoods, where she fended for herself by hunting for meat, growing her own produce, and even tended to livestock. damon thrived in this lifestyle, learning how to survive in the wilderness. he didn’t go to public school. instead, he was homeschooled by delilah, who taught him only what she valued to be of great importance. she wasn’t gonna raise no soft, yellowbelly who couldn’t fend for himself.

however, one day while out hunting, the two were attacked by a grizzly bear and it mauled delilah nearly to death before damon put a few rounds of bullets into it. there was no saving her, and she knew it. instead, she begged damon to end the pain. out of mercy, he killed her, and thus triggered the werewolf gene he didn’t even realize was in him. the confusion he had to deal with alone as a result was heartbreaking. he didn’t understand what he was, seeing himself as a monster whenever there was a full moon to unleash his inner beast. damon thought he was the only one of his kind, until he met a group of mysterious travelers.

the mongrels motorcycle club, what everyone assumed to be a band of criminals. damon first met them at a dive bar in town, where he’d been planning to drink himself into a stupor. they knew what he was immediately and offered him a home; a new family with them. while he had so many unanswered questions, the young werewolf also had nothing to lose, and so he joined the bloodmoon pack and never looked back.

the acceptance and relief from knowing he wasn’t an abomination was overwhelming. never did he think that he would develop such a strong bond with another person, let alone an entire pack of werewolves. the bloodmoon pack has been travelling just about everywhere, stopping in areas to rest before carrying on again, living as vagabonds, and picking up “strays” / other packless werewolves along the way. he’s been with the pack for sixteen years.

( more tba yikes )

wanted connections

bloodmoon pack / mongrels mc members. still need a president, sgt at arms, road captain, enforcer, chaplain, etc. info can be found on the wanted connections page on the main !

soulmate. listen, he’s been around the block and i think it’s safe to say he’d have found his mate by now asdjkhg. she could have already been with the pack when he joined, or joined after him at some point. completely open to plotting all the details. filled by cleo clarke

( more tba maybe sdjhfg )

nicholas “nick” spencer has lived in seattle for twelve years, and are known to be broody but also very altruistic. the twenty one year old human goes to school at seattle university. if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble finn cole. their pronouns are he/him. nick is unaware of the supernatural.

statistics & connections

born in los angeles, california to a pair of admirably gifted parents, nicholas spencer lived a fairly privileged first eight years of his life. his mother, a soap opera actress, and his father, a talented chef, gave both nick and his older sister a life full of love and luxury. yes, everything was absolutely perfect in their world. until it wasn’t.

at barely eight years old, nick was violently thrown along with his sister into one of the most traumatic experiences any child could go through; they lost their parents to a fatal car accident. being forced to move to seattle with his sister to live with their aunt, he didn’t fully understand what it meant; he couldn’t properly process what was going on. the pain of his loss was expressed more out of anger, feeling as though their parents abandoned them. and thus, nick’s out of control behavior was born.

suicide mention tw. he struggled in school. his emotions betrayed him. instead of relishing a happy childhood, nick found himself pushing everyone away, getting into fights, sneaking out late at night to run around the city with his friends and get into all sorts of trouble with them. he couldn’t count on his hands how many times the police picked him up and brought him to his aunt’s doorstep. it only got worse once one of his best friends was found dead, written off as a suicide, though it didn’t add up in nick’s eyes and seemed so much more sinister. the young man was nearly deemed to be a lost cause, until he discovered his passion for writing.

language arts or literature was the last thing anyone would ever think to group with nick spencer. he was quite eloquent, sure, but the one thing he always did was play basketball at one of the outdoor courts in seattle. anytime he needed to blow off steam, to contemplate life, or just to shoot hoops, you could always catch him at the court. but his english teacher noticed how well he could articulate his thoughts and feelings on paper, and submitted one of his pieces to a writing contest, which earned nick the win and three thousand dollars as a prize.

bewildered by a talent he hadn’t even realized was in him, nick embraced it. he started writing in a journal ( which he keeps safely tucked away beneath the mattress of his bed ), documenting every feeling and thought as a way to express his emotions in a more productive manner. this talent earned him a full ride scholarship to seattle university, where he’s now a literature major with plans of either becoming an author or perhaps an english teacher, to follow in the footsteps of his high school teacher who he came to idolize.

( more will be added later oop )

wanted connections

his three best friends ( see listed in wanted connections on the main ! )

someone he doesn’t see eye to eye with, maybe opposite in personality or morals. most likely someone he went to high school with or someone who also attends seattle university ( bonus points if they’re supernatural )

some bad folk he may have accidentally gotten mixed up with, either in the past or current ( or both sdfhkjg ). could literally be ANYTHING, maybe he saw something he shouldn’t have, maybe there’s some drug scandal he got mixed up in and now can’t get out of ??

more tba eventually !

verona adler has been seen walking the seattle streets. the fae has been in town for three years, and are known to be restive but also very fervent. the twenty four year old works as a bar & grill waitress. if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble dove cameron. their pronouns are she/her.

statistics & connections

oakdale, louisiana. born and bred. she was raised middle to two brothers, one older and one younger, but was the absolute apple of her mom and dad’s eye, being their only daughter. her family was reputable, as were the strawberry fields they owned. people from all over the state would pay a petty price to pick a few cartons full of the famously juicy adler strawberries.

at a very young age, verona had to learn how to better control her emotions, which is very difficult for a child to understand and do. she was known for glowing tantrums, and levitating when particularly elated over something. however, in due time, the young faerie learned to hide these paramount parts of herself from the world surrounding them, out of fear over the potential backlash of human ignorance.

she’s been very personable her entire life, much like a light in a dark room. excelling in school, she mastered both academics and the social aspect, she was on the school’s yearbook committee as well as the cheerleading squad, and played an active part in her community as best as she could, generally through volunteer work. a true southern belle, through and through.

however, verona was exhausted. she couldn’t stand pretending to be something she wasn’t; hiding her true colors from the world just because the world was deemed to be much too censorious when it came to being different. while she adored her family and friends, she wasn’t being true to herself which left her unhappy behind closed doors. so, at the age of twenty one, she found an ad in the paper for a roommate in seattle and the city was evidently huge in comparison to her small town. the thought of living somewhere that was hopefully more accepting was an absolute dream, so she packed her things and made the move.

she’s been living in seattle for three years now, working at the same bar & grill she started off with as a waitress and she loves it. she loves meeting people that come from all different walks of life, the mixture of humans and supernatural is perfect. though she’s still a little put out by hiding her true self, she enjoys being surrounded by a bigger populace of supernatural beings that she generally doesn’t have to hide around.

( more tba probably ... eventually )

wanted connections

exes / flings / one night stands. her friends calling her a slut is just teasing and gets a laugh out of her, a stranger calling her a slut will put vee in a full on rage, but all in all .... girl gets around. NOT because she’s a sex fiend, but because she loves the idea of being loved, and therefore looks for it in all the wrong places sdfahkfjg.

best friend ( supernatural only pls ! ). she needs someone she can fully open up to without worry of being judged, rant / vent to each other about all the shit in their lives, talk about things they wouldn’t normally be able to talk about in the public, etc. a good wholesome friendship.

someone she annoys / who annoys her / or both. girl is basically a constant ray of sunshine & agonizingly curious / nosy, and that probably presses at least one person. she can’t stand some who’s a grump without a cause & has an insatiable need to pick people apart in order to find out wtf happened to them / the reason why they are the way that they are.

maybe her brother(s) ? i mean, if anyone wanted to pick them up, they’re free to snag !!

more tba later !

#bloods.intro #* 𝙙 . 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩 ╱ intro .#* 𝙣 . 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧 ╱ intro .#* 𝙫 . 𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙧 ╱ intro .#suicide tw #murder tw #death tw #made individual intro tags thinkin i was gna post individual intros #i played myself

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cartoonjazzlover · 5 years ago

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Summer 2019 Shows First Impressions

My first impressions for kids shows that premiered throughout summer 2019. Nickelodeon 44 Cats: Italian show, but based from what I seen, it's a cute filler show when nothing's good on. With the first few episodes, I thought it would get repetitive with the rival cats, but thankfully that doesn't happen every single episode. The theme song screams preschool, but it grows on you. The cats eating spaghetti is weird, but it's good timing now that Nick finally acquired the rights to Garfield. The English dub is even more interesting: it's recorded at New York and if you still watch the Pokemon dub, some familiar like Sarah Natochenny, Suzy Myers, Erica Schroeder, are involved. 7/10 All That: I'm almost caught up with the 2019 revival of it, and it's decent so far. It wasn't a surprise that Nick would brought it back due to Brian Robbins being the creator and is now running the network. Once Henry Danger ends for good, this will be Nick's main live-action show. Who knows if they'll start giving the actors their own shows, just like they did in the original run? My favorite actors so far are all the girls, while Lex Lumpkin is probably my favorite male cast member. Nathan Janak and Chinguun Sergelen should need major improvements in their acting while Ryan Alessi is okay. The Good Burger and Loud Librarian sketches return for this revival and they are just as funny. Unless you're into randomness, I recommend this and you don't have to watch the original series to prepare for it. I do wish NickRewind would air it again. 7/10 LEGO City Adventures: One of the acquired show, and it's as random and episodic as you get. Definitely worth a shot for kids viewers. I like how it focuses on different characters instead of focusing on the same ones. My favorite episode so far is the Sky Police/Father's Day Parade segment for its wholesome story, especially the latter. On another note, I love the shading to the animation. The theme song is quite memorable as well, especially the extended credits theme. Definitely a show worth your time if there's nothing good on. Not sure why Nick suddenly stopped airing new episodes for awhile in favor of LEGO Jurassic World. 8/10 Disney Channel Amphibia: To tell you the truth, when I first about this show, I was anticipating for it. I liked the idea of a human girl entering a world of amphibians. But what's the end result, you ask? An utter disappointment. I mean, I still stand what I said when I saw the first happened, but this show ended up being a borefest. Even as it progresses, I still don't see any improvement. What doesn't help that it's hinting a possible recurring story, and you know what that means. Yep, another cartoon that needs to be story driven in order to be mature. Just great. There's a few good things about it, but my memory is rusty. 5/10 Just Roll With It: Disney Channel's latest live-action program. What surprises me is that it's rated TV-Y7 (a few other live-action programs has that rating higher than G). Also, it's even produced by It's a Laugh Productions, but rather it's done by a different studio. It's still mult-camera, but it is filmed in front of a live studio audience rather than using laugh track. And this show suffered a case of "bad first impression." The first couple episodes were horrible, but I've watched a few more and it isn't bad. Maybe because the plots were less cringeworthy. It just got renewed, so maybe this is okay if you want to pass the time. 5.5/10 Cartoon Network Mao Mao Heroes of Pure Heart: CN's only new show during this summer. And it happens to be one of my favorite new cartoon of 2019. As a cat lover, I'm biased and also consider this the best show I reviewed here, because the main character is a black cat with a sword, fighting bad guys. And yes, before people answer, Mao Mao does resemble Mr, Blik from Catscratch. I like his chemistry with his roommates, especially Badgerclops. Their relationship is more aggressive than Grizz and Panda from We Bare Bears. Acrobat is basically her name, but while I find her funny at times, she's too hyperactive and loud. The pacing is one of my biggest issues with the show. It can be too fast at times. CN is on a roll with original ideas and if you want to be a real funny superhero cartoon, please watch Mao Mao. 9/10

#nickelodeon #disney channel #cartoon network #44 cats #all that #lego city #amphibia #just roll with it #mao mao

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tartareus · 5 years ago

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CAOS MUSES CANON DIVERGENCE; not unlike many here, i too found the third act of sabrina’s adventures a bit…lacking, to say the least. bad writing got me more and throwing character development to the bin made me finally decide that i am not going to accept most of what happened as true - i will, however try to keep the changes to mininal as a say to make canon complying muses’ interactions with mine run smoothly.

for starters: my edward, salem and my della are primarily based on the comics (the chilling adventures of sabrina and sabrina the teenage witch) + my own head canons, therefore do expect their nature to be a bit darker\different than the show presents them. with that in mind…

edward did not die - he was in a circle of hell trapped inside a tree. once lucifer’s power over hell waned, the prision that kept the warlock there started to weaken and, thus, eventually he got out, finally free… only to find himself in…

queen lilith’s hell - yes, i am not going for that idea of lilith not being their queen, more than anyone else she does deserve the title, she worked for it and there is no point to not make all the effort during pt1 and 2 to go without a reward; for that to happen, though, i still accept the plot that sabrina went after nick, but instead of just taking satan back to earth…

edward becomes the morningstar’s host - besides being more than capable of taking him, edward is a known, talented, conjurer, had a somewhat deal or even relationship with empusa (a shape shifting demon), he knows how demons work. he knows what to expect and, other than that, he knows the boy will struggle. he won’t. although his very own existence is kept a secret from sabrina, in a similar fashion of b.ckwood, instead of struggling for dominance, edward will try and strike a bargain with lucifer (unknown to anyone else), if only to be sure that everything goes along with his own secret agenda…

he still helps zelda, though - as he is in hell and is not dead but trapped there, he makes use of some of lucifer’s powers to cross the veil and go for their aid.

della still remains a head witch - that is, still works for the council in rome, but with a slighly different twist. she herself is a hedgewitch. i’ve thought about this, and what it would mean for her character (originally in the sttw comics as sabrina’s mentor and the one that tried to guide her to the path of night, and them also as the queen of sabbath in the tcaos comics) and it seems that it just might fit her character altogether. hedgewitches are, after all, very old, powerful, lone witches who are but a few - which was what i was going for her originally. with that in mind, i have come to an hc that

della has her own very unique abilities - much like gryla, sycorax, and pesta, della possesses her own abilities as her own deal was slightly different. instead of having an aggressive ability like pesta and sycorax, she has a spiritual one - although not too similar from gryla’s ability to gather the spirits of her lads - that is very subtle: she can walk through the veil between the living and the dead, roaming in the in between without the fear of never returning (unless, of course, it is her time). that means that in her astral projections the psychopomps do not acknowledge her presence at all, one of the reasons she was hired by the council.

her age is hard to determinate - she is clearly younger than the members of the council, but way older than the spellmans. to maintain her youth and looks, and not require a powerful glamour that would make her tired and weak if she kept holding for years, della consumes babies, mostly mortal orphans, in order to survive. that ritual is only required after some centuries (if it is a witch baby) or after the lifetime that mortal would’ve had. for that, it is needless to say that…

her relationship with gryla is of mutual hate and disdain - for the two of them are rivals in their quest for younger souls. although gryla herself has no choice but pick orphans, della prefers them because it usually avoids the whole ordeal of stealing a child. imagine how complicated it must’ve gotten when she answered the distress call from the coven in greendale…

although she is part of not coven, per se, della goes to their aid - or rather, is summoned against her own will, but she’s never going to admit that. particularly taking great joy at hunting the pagans, chasing them off greendale in the timeline that was fixed. in the broken timeline (aka the end of the world), not unlike ambrose (however using slightly shadier strategies) she managed to survive and remained hidden, safe in a witch’s cell in the vatican’s necropolis. sadly, she does end up going a little mad, but before she loses it all…

she manages to send ambrose some books that once belonged to the council - in hopes that these unholy scriptures, that had never been to the access of other witches and warlocks other than the scholars of rome, would help, hoping that he would be able to do what she had failed to: figure a way out of this mess.

salem is not a goblin but, in fact, a mortal curse by a witch he scorned centuries ago. cursed to become her familiar, after the witch he was forcibly bound to died during the salem trials the dark lord himself appeared before him, telling him that he would only lift the curse if he sold his soul to him - which he did, however what samuel (his mortal name) failed to realise was that he had not been specific as the date he should be free and, as such, the father of lies told him he would only be free once he had met, served and protected a white haired witch that was and was not daughter of night. it took centuries for him to find her, but when he saw sabrina he knew inside his old bones that it was her.

he has come to terms to his current situation - he used to be a good christian, yes a bit reckless and an asshole with how he treated women, but he changed. it was a hard lesson he had to learn. as he learned to repent, he also learned to understand the nature of witches better. they reacted with what they had. as such, he started to grow fond of sabrina and her family, even her friends (although he does not fancy being treated like an ordinary house pet).

he never liked robin nor lilith (when she was pretending to be ms wardwell), hissing soundly at them as he deemed them a probably threat to his witch.

lucifer granted him a couple of gifts to endure his long life - magical abilities akin to a warlock’s (but never enough to turn himself into human again, at least not for a long while) and speech (although he spent such a long time silent that he wonders if his throat still can produce anything other than a felinesound), as well seven lives. he is currently on the begining of his last life.

in both timelines salem tries to protect the spellmans - in the broken timeline, salem is dead (with satan no longer on the throne to secure his powers, the cat, much like the witches he served, started to weaken), probably trying to find sabrina and failing miserably. in the fixed timeline, he stays with zelda and mambo, refusing to leave her side. as they escaped, salem found that a good way to distract them was by attacking blackwood with the last remnants of his strength, unaware that faustus beared the mark of cain. wounded, he hides behind vinegar tom, trusting that the protective magic surrounding zelda’s old familiar (which she insisted that was still alive, just his vessel dead), would keep them from fiding him. he eventually recovers his strength and rejoins the spellmans, but feels something off, as if there was something wrong with sabrina.

overall, my main pet peeve with this season was how poorly handled some archs were. as much as i love the new order of hecate (which btw sounds very pagan to me but okay), i wish they had kept the church of lilith and, as such i will accept both realities and place them in different timelines, especially for hilda.

i do hc that she still prays for her, away from zelda’s hearing of course, because when she was in the pit (unaware that they were praying for hecate) and in the in between when zelda and edward left, she prayed for her even though she is not the religious type, and came out of it alive. it was only after all that mess that she realised that maybe her prayers were in vain, but she didn’t mind at all.

i also hc that, after her spidey-incident she's been getting a bit uneasy near her own familiars (and they seem to notice that too, being slightly worried for her), she also decides to take a break from her relationship with cee; even though she loves him, and he proposed, she almost killed him ( and may or may not have tried to make him fertilize her eggs , unholy fuck that sentence shall haunt me for some good while) and that starts to make her realise that their relationship might be too dangerous for him, as a mortal. he already faced a witch hunter to protect her and now this? the last thing she wants is to cause him harm.

with mambo being around to look after zelda, hilda just might look for a place of her own, perhaps a little cottage in england as she so desires. it's not that she doesn't want to be part of the coven, or better the order, but even for her, non-religious and almost skeptical, bouncing off from deity to deity is not proving to be a good thing. besides, she's grown quite a backbone (about damn time) and she will no longer endure how she has been treated by her sister - i will elaborate further on the domestic abuse and the ptsd hilda suffers from being killed so many times and the mutual codependency of her relationship with her sister on a separate post, eventually

sometimes hilda puts a few drops of a soothing draught on zelda's food, because apparently if she asks for her sister to take a deep breath or watch her blood pressure it is a reason to receive a dark look. Sl instead of fretting and being pushed away, she just gets it done anyway. it is also comforting for her to know how easily she could kill zelda by putting something lethal on her food. whilst she does entertain herself with these thoughts, she knows she would never be able to kill her ow flesh and blood.

she raised ambrose almost mostly by herself, back when she lived in England. as her first child,she did spoil him rotten. Hilda never really thought of having kids herself, being demiromantic/demisexual she couldn't find it in herself to partake on the coven's festivities and enjoy lupercalia with a random witch or warlock, zelda was the baby crazy one, who had held sabrina almost possessively. she spoiled sabrina as well, perhaps due to Edward's recent death or because she knew how much her murders took their toll on her young niece, but not enough to "ruin" her as zelda always made sure.

although she could easily wear glamours to look more like the rest of her family (tall and slender), hilda learned with time to love herself, being more positive both inside and out.

#m; e. spellman \ hcs #m; della \ hcs #m; s. saberhagen \ hcs #m; h. spellman \ hcs #theres so much shit in this season that i dont even know where to start #its 5 am and i am sleep so dont mind if none of it makes sense ok

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grumpyhedgehogs · 6 years ago

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Lay Me to Rest in a Bed of Wildflowers

Summary: Various citizens give The Judge flowers. Dep realizes a few things.

Part One: Here Part Two: Here

Notes: This one was a long time in coming. I started work on it a week or so after the first part, had to split it in two, lost the draft, started a new one, found the old draft, stitched them into some Frankenstein’s monster, and spent another three days finishing and editing. At this point, if there are any grammar mistakes they’re just gonna have to stay there. But I had a lot of fun finishing this trilogy and I hope you enjoy some angst/fluff/flowers! As always, spoilers for Far cry 5 and Far cry New Dawn, please do not read if you are not finished/mind being spoiled.

P.S.: The titles of the trilogy refer to a trial, execution and funeral.

”You remember the people here. They’re your friends, and you want to help them.”

Carmina

Carmina started with cherry blossoms. It was a cherry tree she so often found Dep leaning against- it was the farthest tree on the property, just on the edge between the ranch and the treeline. She knew it made her parents nervous whenever they saw Dep leaning against that old trunk, staring distractedly into the darkness of the forest. Hell, it scared Carmina plenty.

But Dep wouldn’t run now. Not after Carmina’s mother had asked them not to.

That didn’t mean they didn't think about it; Carmina could practically see it in the air around their head as they leaned against the trunk of the cherry tree, unheeding of the twigs and leaves getting caught in their hood. She could feel it, an aura around them when she got too close, needling at the skin.

When Dep got like this the whole house seemed to grind to a halt. She’d caught her father with his hand on the doorknob, frozen between rushing out and leaving them be. Her mother’s grip on the counter as she watched through the open window was white-knuckled and rigid. It was a storm brewing, demanding to be seen but too far away to be touched, too powerful to be warded off.

Carmina plucked a few blossoms from a low-hanging bough as she passed and held them to her nose, eyes never wavering from the dark figure. The tree rarely ever produced fruit these days; it was too old, too twisted, too broken by the bombs to do more than survive. Maybe that was why Dep liked it so much. They’d found a kindred spirit.

They were silent- so out of character!- as she stepped up beside them, but they accepted the flowers readily enough when she offered them.

“You should smell them,” she prompted but wasn’t too disappointed when they simply tilted their head at her. At least Dep wasn’t looking at the dark anymore. “They’re my favorite scent. Besides Mom’s cooking, I guess.”

Dep’s fingers played lightly over the petals for a moment, as if memorizing their texture. They held them back out doubtfully. Carmina smiled, fondness tugging at her chest, and folded the gloved fingers gently over the flowers. “Keep them. They’ll remind you of me.”

Cherry blossoms meant renewal. Carmina figured Dep already knew that.

She gave them lavender next.

Ever since her mother had pointed it out, Carmina couldn’t help but jerk awake every time she heard them creeping out at night. They never seemed to remember the floorboard to the right of the top stair creaked like something out of a haunted house.

She’d lay staring at the ceiling, wide-eyed yet unseeing, until the screen door’s hinges whined again in the early hours and cat-like footsteps crept back up the stairs. Only then did Carmina’s heart stop thumping so very hard against her ribs.

She dropped a sprig of lavender in their hands the next morning. “You’re keeping me up,” she told them, and refused to feel guilty about the slump of their shoulders. The bags under her eyes were heavy. “It helps sleep.” They also meant peace, but again, these were unneeded explanations.

The apple and orange blossoms she actually felt a little bad about, seeing as they could easily have turned to fruit. But- well. The Dep was a little more important.

“For peace,” she murmured when they looked up at her. The summery early evening was just beginning to chill, and Carmina could feel the tip of her nose numbing. The flowers in their yard were fragrant; Dep looked as at peace as she’d ever seen them. Not that that was saying much. “And family. Now come on, Mom’s let Dad break out the grill and I need you around to help put the fire out.”

Carmina didn’t have to look back to know they were just a step behind her the whole way.

Grace

Grace found them crouching in the dirt. They were not trying to be sneaky now- she could hear them crunching around in the drying, dead leaves of the late summer. The whole yard around what used to be John Seed’s ranch smelled of green and damp and growth; Grace suspected that just might be what Dep needed right about now.

(She had Nana help her with the flowers. The old woman was surprisingly patient, explaining every color, helping her with textures and structures and arrangement and Grace had never put this much thought into a bunch of dead plants in her entire life.)

It was quiet out in the yard except for the ambient noise of the wilderness. Dep liked birdsong; they used to go out in the early morning and sit on the porch of the Rye’s home, just waiting to hear which bird would be the first to wake. Grace would come around with coffee sometimes.

“Do you remember the birds, Dep?”

They stilled and Grace could hear their labored breathing.

(Kim, when she led Grace outside, had quietly explained the Deputy was trying to build a garden. “It’s the only time they’ve been calm out here,” Kim had confided and Grace’s throat had tightened at the strained tone in her voice.)

They must have been tilling the earth for the new seeds; Grace could smell the fresh soil. It was nice.

Leaves crunched underfoot as the Deputy stood slowly. Grace could almost see their shoulders, thin under such a large jacket (“Like a goddamn bear hide or some shit,” Nick had told her over the radio once, months ago now), tensing up somewhere near their ears. They never liked to be snuck up on.

“Do you remember the bluejays?” She asked, loud in the uneasy quiet. Grace’s ears were straining harder than ever, unseeing eyes darting from side to side; she felt them moving, unbidden, in her skull. But she wasn’t scared of anything but the Dep running. They were so very good at running.

“They were your favorite, Dep,” Grace said, something desperate and hot rising to the base of her throat at their silence. She had never hated the quiet so much as now. “You would point them out every time we hunted together- you- you liked when they were the first ones to sing in the morning.”

A noncommittal grunt. A foot shifting in the dirt. The crunch of dry twigs. Birds singing, branches clattering in a slight breeze. A soft exhale.

“I brought coffee but you preferred tea because caffeine made your hands shake when you held a bow,” Grace tried.

Footsteps padded towards her but stopped a few yards- too far, too far- away. She heard their breath hitch violently in their chest.

She couldn’t cry. She never cried, not even at the end of the goddamn world. “You liked jasmine tea because the flowers were pretty. We shared it. You taught me about the birds every morning.”

Nothing. The birds wouldn’t stop singing. She didn’t know whether that was such a good thing anymore.

Finally, heart in her mouth, Grace stepped forward and thrust out her fist. The flowers would be crushed at the stems, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Nana said you’d probably know what they mean,” Grace’s voice was too fast, too high, God she felt like an idiot. “But I think you need to hear it. So- so, edelweiss for courage and devotion, wallflower for faithfulness in adversity, hyssop for sacrifice, lemon balm for sympathy. And- and magnolia, for- for love of nature.”

She came forward again and again and again and held up her hands when she heard them shift back. Fumbling, Grace caught one thickly gloved hand in hers and wished desperately that she could touch skin, just for a moment. The heat at the back of her throat was spreading, pushing at her mouth, the backs of her eyes, lighting her scalp ablaze. Her legs were gelatinous.

She curled her old friend’s hand gently around the flowers and held their loose fist in both of hers. Grace wished that she could see, that they could talk, that none of this had happened.

“Maybe next you could teach me about the flowers,” she whispered hoarsely, and ignored the lump in her throat at the soft sob coming from somewhere in front of her.

Kim

Kim gave them a flower for each day they stayed.

The first one she made a production out of, giving it in the exact same way they left hers for her all those months ago. Dep seemed surprised to come in from their early morning wanderings (it never failed to give Kim a heart attack, seeing their bed empty and made up, crisp cool air where her friend was supposed to be warm and safe- Goddamn Joseph Seed better be rotting in Hell) and find a small bunch of pink and purple petals at their honorary place at the family table.

“Statice,” Kim told them, carefully not looking up from the eggs she was scrambling, “there’s a lot around here. For sympathy. And success.”

The next day, it was peach roses. “Those were a little harder to find,” Kim admitted. She didn’t particularly want to remember that dirty, cramped trek through the woods, or the cursing, or the thorns. “You’re supposed to give them to someone you miss.”

Dep had trembled at that. They’d left the table and were gone for most of the day, the screen door banging shut behind them; for hours, Kim had thought that was it, she’d fucked it all up. But in the end, the sun’s rays were scarcely fading when the Dep had stepped quietly into the kitchen and pressed an apologetic lily-of-the-valley in her palm. Kim kept still as they bowed their head.

“Yes,” she said finally, having to violently tamp down on the overwhelming urge to reach out. “You’re forgiven.Tell us you’re leaving next time.”

Freesia was next. “Thoughtfulness- I thought it was a good fit for you.”

Yellow roses- “Oh, you know you’re supposed to give them to friends. That was a pretty easy one.”

White tulips, which she placed in a box on their windowsill. “For the worthiness part, not the seeking forgiveness part,” Kim had had to justify quickly when the Dep’s head swiveled around as if looking for an exit, “You know you've got nothing to apologize for.”

But they didn’t know, and Kim knew they didn’t. Back to the drawing board.

“Dahlias,” Kim told them later, “they’re for lasting bonds.”

Finally she settled, comfortably, on sunflowers. Hell knew there were tons of them around the house.

“You like yellow, huh?” Kim ventured one day, unsure if the question would cause Dep to flip out. Instead, she got a moment of consideration and then a slow nod. They were a child, unsure if they were going to be granted approval or disappointment. The acid in Kim’s stomach roiled and she hoped the fire burning Joseph Seed’s soul was blistering.

Kim grinned. “Good. They’re supposed to mean happiness.”

She kept a vase of sunflowers on the table after that, and put another one in their dreary bedroom- she’d have to get Carmina’s help redecorating.

And if she had to plant even more sunflowers to keep up a steady flow, well, it’d be worth it when Dep finally took off that damn mask.

Hurk

“I didn’t, uh- I mean, I just kinda thought this was better than trying to rip up some weird flowers and accidentally poisoning you or something.”

Dep tilted their head the same as they’d always done- it was reassuring, almost, that the little things hadn’t changed. It at least gave Hurk the strength to keep going.

He hefted the flower pot between his palms and wished the leaves were long enough to obscure his hot face. “Gina said this was fucking stupid, but then she said maybe it’d help you cause she was thinkin’ you got fucked up, like really life-changing fucked up, and I mean, with Seed and all, and you runnin’ around in that mask maybe she was right, right?”

Dep’s mask did not look impressed. They shuffled back a few steps and looked like they were considering shutting the door on him. Somewhere in that house Kim Rye was thinking about throttling him.

“I’m talking too much,” Hurk stated. Dep did not disagree. Their fists were clenching and unclenching slowly at their sides; they were fighting to keep still. “Um. Sorry. Here.”

He shoved the flower pot into their hands unceremoniously. They fumbled, stumbled under the sudden weight, and finally got it secured against their chest. They huffed angrily at him when dirt spilled into their collar and Hurk was suddenly rethinking the whole ‘let’s-give-our-old-friend-who-is-now-a-little-crazy-a-bunch-of-plants’ idea. Carmina had a good heart but Hurk wondered if she thought more with that than her head.

The Deputy shifted the pot in their hands, looking down at it before jerking their head questioningly at him.

“It’s a fern,” Hurk explained helpfully.

They blinked. It was weird to see the mask with only one eye lens in it, but the eyes weren’t as disconcerting as the dried dirt and who knows what else smudging the white painted surface.

“I, uh, didn’t know anything about flowers, so I got you a fern,” Hurk repeated. He desperately wanted to slap himself in the face. “Like I said I didn’t want to poison you or anything. Knowing me, I’d find the only Bliss left around and end up naked and hogtied alone on the bank of a river somewhere. Uh, not that I’m speaking from experience or anything. But yeah, I thought this fern looked nice. I mean, it is a nice fern. Do you like ferns? Am I saying the word ‘fern’ too much? I feel like I’m saying ‘fern’ too much.”

The Deputy set the plant heavily on the floor between their feet. They tilted their head for a moment and slowly reached out to pet one of the fronds lightly. Then Dep backed up and crossed their arms over their chest tightly, like they were hugging themself. Hurk felt as if iron bands were squeezing his ribs.

“It means humility and uh- shelter. I think.”

Dep paused and then nodded. They held themself tighter. Hurk wished fiercely for this all to be a nightmare- couldn’t he just wake up and realize that none of this had ever happened and he was on his mom’s couch waiting for the Dep to come by and take him to fuck up some Peggies just for kicks?

But what was done was done, and all that was left of his friend was going to shatter apart if he didn’t give them this fucking fern.

“And confidence too, apparently. And like, sincerity. That part is about me, too. Cause, like, I’m sincerely your friend and shit.”

Dep’s head hung low; he couldn't tell if they were looking at the fern or not.

“Hey, Dep?” They shuddered. His voice was strained on the next words. “I, uh- I’m really glad you’re back man. Wasn’t the same without you.”

Silence. He wasn't going to get anything else from them today. Heart like stone in his chest, Hurk turned and reached out to close the door behind him. At least he could tell Gina and Blade he’d tried.

A hand on the door stopped him from closing it. When Hurk turned around, Dep was standing only inches form him- it was always freaky how softly they could move.

Dep hesitated for a split second and then reached out to lay their hand lightly on his bicep. They patted a couple times and then stopped, seeming unsure of what to do next.

His vision blurry, Hurk reached up and closed his fingers around the other’s, movements slow and exaggerated. They blinked at him. He blinked back and ignored the wet warmth on his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he croaked, “I’m real glad you’re back.”

Jerome

“I once told you I didn’t know how to speak to you, old friend.”

Jerome came to a careful stop at the edge of the garden; he could sense a sacred space when he was near it, and this was the Deputy’s. The earth was freshly dug in furrows, and holes pockmarked the yard here and there, heralding in a season of new growth for next year.

He hadn’t known that Dep liked to plant vegetables as well, but Jerome could just spy a bag of what looked like pumpkin seeds sticking out of the basket Dep had by their side. A filthy trowel and a shucked pair of torn gloves lay beside them.

Dep looked up sharply at him before straightening (the lethality in that movement was all catlike grace and most likely completely unintentional) slowly. They dropped the last few seeds from their worn palm into the furrow and nudged a bit of dirt into place above them with a boot.

Jerome waited until he could see the glint of a single eye. “I told you our paths had diverged and that I could no longer think of what to say to you because of what you had done, what you had been through. And for that, Deputy, I can only sincerely apologize.”

Dep’s shoulders hitched upward by a fraction of an inch, but Jerome was watching too closely not to notice. They slid one foot back and ended up kicking their basket over. Jerome could see their hands starting to twist together, an old nervous tick he remembered stopping many a time with a calming palm on theirs.

His stomach flipped; it was almost a certainty that Dep would never let him do that now. Maybe never again.

Jerome sighed passed the tightness of his throat and raise a hand, palm out. “Please, let me finish. Please don’t let your past- what he made you think of yourself, perhaps what I helped reinforce through my thoughtlessness, get the best of you. Can I ask that of you, my friend?”

The Deputy visibly wavered for a moment; Jerome could feel his position here, fragile as the last fall leaves clinging to the branches, ready to be swept away at any second. His tongue felt as dry as the Sahara.

After quite possibly the longest pause of the pastor’s life, the person who had once turned out to be the most true friend he’d ever had nodded twice, quickly, as if they were pulling off a band-aid.

Jerome shifted on his feet. “May I-” He didn’t know quite how to finish, how to communicate the deep urge to reach out, the need to be close to someone he’d thought lost long ago, the wish to make sure this wasn’t some dream from which he would be ripped away at any second. The Deputy was sure to reject the confession, anyhow.

Instead, they beckoned with one hand, crossed their legs, and thumped down into the dirt unceremoniously.

Jerome suppressed the bizarre impulse to laugh. There was something softer about them now, surrounded as they were with flowers and gardening equipment. Their pale face- what passed for their face, anyway- tilted up at him expectantly; it reminded Jerome absurdly of a child waiting for storytime.

Cautiously, wholly frightened of appearing aggressive, he took a seat across from them Indian-style. He abruptly found it hard to meet their eyes over the row of leaves of the freshly grown carrots between them. Instead, he dropped his gaze to the flowers in his lap. They seemed a meager offering now, no matter how much time he’d spent finding them.

“I brought you these,” Jerome told them hoarsely, lifting the bunch halfheartedly. The Deputy was tracking his movements intently, and tipped their head to the side briefly, that single eye blinking slowly at him. It made Jerome’s chest squeeze tight at the sight. This was what Nick meant about the Dep’s old habits shining through at the strangest times.

He held the first one out over the carrots, watching the petals bob and sway in the breeze. It was a moment before ungloved fingers curled tentatively over the stem just above his own. “Gerbera, for loyal love, innocence, and purity.”

There was a quiet exhale from his companion, but still Jerome refused to lift his eyes. “I should have tried harder to communicate with you; I should have known it was you from the start, or figured it out like Nick Rye did. But I think maybe I did know, or I wouldn’t have pushed the notion away so vehemently. I didn’t want to see what Joseph Seed had done to you- what he molded you into. I didn’t think I could take knowing what had been done to so true a heart.”

He passed two more flowers over. He had to wait a few moments before they were accepted. “Sweet William and sweet woodruff mean gallantry and humility. You- you were a hero to us, I hope you know that. You were a hero to me. And I- I wish I’d not turned away from you when you came out of that bunker. You needed us, and none of us realized it until it was almost too late. We left you to fight your demons on your own because you weren’t fighting our battles for us anymore, and you cannot understand- I cannot express to you the shame that brings me.”

Jerome was having a hard time speaking by now, vision blurred into a swirl of watery colors. He persevered, but not for his own sake. “Pink stargazer lily. I know it looks ostentatious, but it- it means honor, prosperity. Deputy-”

He tried to lift his head this time, made a herculean effort to withstand the grief threatening to drown him, but the current pulled him under and he could not meet their eyes. “The sacrifices you made before the bombs dropped, the torment you must have gone through for the sake of us, all to be rewarded with the time you spent under the ground with him- and to come back and help us, and then, to find the strength to fight back against Seed- the story of Job does you justice.”

Finally, the last flowers seemed small, insignificant, a tiny drop of water in the ocean of things he need to spill out to the Deputy, the things they deserved to hear for which Jerome had no words.

“Bachelor buttons,” He said tightly, breathing harsh. They were not accepted for a long moment and Jerome realized they might not ever be. But if this was the last thing he could say to a hurt friend, then by the Lord Almighty Himself, Jerome had better make it count. “For single blessedness. Whatever has been done to you, whatever Seed or I or anyone else has made you believe about yourself, whatever you think about who you are, know this, my friend. You have fought righteously, and you have stood in the way of harm that would have befallen innocents. You’ve withstood hell. Know that you are free now; know that in the eyes of your family and of the Lord you are not damned. You never were.”

There was a moment where Jerome was alone, choking on the silence, drowning in shame and blame and self-flagellation. The garden was still and time could very well have stopped.

And then the flower was pulled from his grip and replace with a hand. Fingers laced with his, and their bare knuckles dropped to rest together on the sun-warmed earth.

Jerome sat with an old friend submerged in a place of growth and life, and let the wind lift the weight from his shoulders, let the sun dry the tears on his face, let the earth turn on and on, inexorably turning away from the past. He hoped the Deputy was doing the same.

They stayed with him (he stayed with them) until the light faded from a friendly sky.

Sharky

This was worse than that time when he was fourteen and bought his crush a bunch of flowers to ask her to the Spring Formal. Okay, so he’d swiped them from the neighbor’s yard. Whatever. Point was, he was less nervous back then, when he’d been holding out the stupid flowers and staring her football player boyfriend in the eye, than he was right now.

The Dep’s hood was up like always, but the height of their shoulders and the way they were leaning as far back in their chair as they could told him enough to guess at their expression. He was sweating.

Kim, sitting at the table in her kitchen across from Dep, looked ten seconds away from throttling him. Sharky recognized that vein beating a tempo in her cheek. “Chives, Sharky? Really?”

“The, uh, the book said they mean, like, usefulness and stuff.”

Kim wrinkled her nose. “You busted into my house to tell Dep they’re useful?” Her tone was deliberately calm. Sharky’s heart was beating so fast it might have simply stopped. He didn’t waver from the Dep, though. He wasn't gonna give up his shot now.

“Hey, I know my best friend, all right? They like to be all helpful and useful to people and shit.”

Their shoulders were lowering centimeters at a time. They’d begun breathing again, having stopped when the door slammed against the wall. Nothing like a dramatic Boshaw entrance to get the blood pumping. The hood moved in their classic head tilt. Their fingers twitched against the worn wood of the table.

“There- there’s dill too,” he piped up helpfully, ignoring the urge to scrub at the back of his neck. Drops of sweat rolled into his facial hair. “Just cause, that book- we’ve only got like one fuckin’ book on flowers and plants and shit in the entire county, how fucked is that, huh?- uh, the book said dill means ‘powerful against evil,’ and I mean, that’s you all the way man, so I thought, you’re all flower power these days, maybe you’d like ‘em! I dunno, I guess I should speak your language and shit.”

There was a second of the loudest silence he’d ever heard. That usually didn’t bode well for Sharky.

Kim let out a long breath. “Sharky, I think maybe you should-”

The Dep’s chair scraped back so fast it tipped backward and landed upside down with a clatter. Kim jumped in her seat. The birds outside the windowsill took flight. The Dep’s glass of water was upturned.

Dep took two large steps over to Sharky and threw their arms around his middle. They squeezed too hard and Sharky wheezed for a second, but when they started to withdraw in alarm he planted a firm hand on their back.

“Oh hell no man, you’re good, you’re good.” They smelled like firewood and rich, healthy soil. At first they held themselves away from his body by a few inches until Sharky gently pressed down between their shoulder blades.

His friend almost collapsed boneless against him; Dep was shaking in his arms and Sharky felt the vicious need to dig Joseph Seed’s body out of his grave and set it on fire. Instead, he held very still and let Dep tentatively rest their head on his shoulder. The skin of their forehead was warmer than any fire he’d lit in months; the warmth seeped through the mask and into the cloth of his shirt, burning pleasantly there.

Their shoulders were trembling, although Sharky was unsure if they were actually crying. He tried not to let the plants get crushed by leaning the fist with them in it gently against the back of Dep’s head.

“I, uh.” He croaked, cleared his throat. Kim was frozen on the edge of his vision, hand over her mouth. “I’ve got coriander too; it means ‘hidden worth.’ I thought it was funny, cause like, you hide your face all the time and you're super cool? But, I couldn't find any coriander flowers. So I put coriander powder on everything.”

The Dep huffed against his flannel. Kim snorted.

“Wait til I tell Nick you got the first hug,” she told him, shaking her head ruefully. “He’s gonna be so pissed.”

Sharky grinned wildly.

Nick

Nick barely had time to realize that he’d grabbed the wrong wrench and would subsequently have to haul himself out from under the truck to go get the right one when it appeared in his field of vision as if by magic. A gloved hand was wrapped around the handle.

“Oh,” He said, suddenly realizing he’d forgotten how words worked. “Uh. Thanks.”

In the three months they’d been staying with the Ryes, Dep had had trouble staying in the same room as Nick. They still couldn’t look him in the eye. It made something dark and cloying claw at the base of his stomach most days.

The hand retreated and there was a shifting of fabric near his feet. Working mostly on memory and instinct, Nick continued to fiddle with whatever was jamming up the undercarriage of the truck, keeping most of his attention on the dark, dirt-covered boots he could barely make out beside him.

After a relatively companionable five minutes, he couldn’t stand the silence anymore. Nick found himself wishing for the days when Dep knew just the moment to crack a joke to ease his tension. Maybe that was selfish. Yeah, it was probably selfish.

“Hey, uh.” He cleared a suddenly clogged throat gruffly. “I uh, jumped on the bandwagon and got you something. They’re over by the tools, you probably saw them. Go grab them for me, would ya?”

The feet shuffled a bit before their body dropped down with a thump that jarred him badly enough that his knees jerked into the truck’s underside. Nick hissed a little but shook off the concerned noise Dep made. “Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it- happens all the time. You got ‘em?”

Two taps on his shin, and the skin there prickled under his jeans; they hadn’t wanted to look at him, much less touch any of the Ryes in so long...

They were sitting quietly beside the truck now, leaning against the passenger-side door. He could just barely spy the bright splash of color he’d worked so hard on in his periphery.

It must have taken weeks to get the canterbury bells alone. Nick had been afraid he’d do something stupid- spill oil on them or drop ‘em in the mud or something. It was a relief just knowing they’d gotten safely into Dep’s hands.

“Listen,” Nick paused when the wrench clanged loudly against metal. He stilled until the silence rushed back in.

There was a single tap on his leg to signify they heard him. This was the most they’d touched him since he’d tried to tackle them out of some misguided attempt at a peace-offering all those months ago. “I know this is the part where I explain all the flowers to you, but I got something to say first, yeah?”

A moment of quiet. Nick tightened a lug nut and ignored how slippery the wrench had become in a matter of seconds. Two taps on his shin.

“Cool,” He replied, and had never felt this hot and agitated in his life. The car seemed to be bearing down on him, threatening to crush his lungs with its bulk. He focus instead on the hand tapping light patterns out on the concrete by his knees. “I ain’t gonna sugar coat this, buddy- Joseph Seed got you fucked up.”

A huffed breath and a light shove, barely enough to jostle him. In the old days, Nick might’ve grinned, wrapped an arm around their neck, ribbed them a little more. Now, his heart was beating too loud in his ears to even think straight. “I mean, there are probably better ways to say that, but it is what it is. And I just wanna say- I don’t care.”

Nick was struck with the acute desire to see what the Dep’s expression was at this moment, but it wasn’t like being out from under the car would help him much with that mask still in the way. He thought maybe the truck hiding his face was the reason Dep could even stand being so near him now- that night with the knife really messed them up. Seems like that blade did more harm to them than it ever did to Nick.

“Aw, I don’t mean it like- like that, you know I- I’m not any good at this, at talkin’. You knew that a long time ago, huh?” Nick was wheezing, just slightly. A hand squeezed lightly around his ankle, and he focused on centering his breathing for a moment.

“Thanks. But I mean it, I don’t care. I don’t care what he did to you, or who you think he made you be. I don’t care if you think you’re dangerous or evil, because you know what? You’re wrong. Seed was fucking wrong about you from the start, and he was wrong about you in the end, too. You didn’t start out evil and you’re not ending up evil either.”

The hand withdrew, and over the roaring in his head Nick could hear them stand. For a moment cold fear drenched him with the certainty that they would run; but all they did was begin pacing.

That was pretty much the best permission to continue he was gonna get. “I don’t care what happened because it doesn’t change who you are to me. It don’t change the fact I’m not gonna leave you alone in this- not ever again.”

He wasn’t seeing the undercarriage anymore, not really; in his mind’s eye, Nick could perfectly render the last time he’d seen their face, all sweaty and grave and ready to bring the fight to Seed if it was the last thing they did. In a way he guessed it was, at least for a while.

“You’re my family,” Nick told them simply. “Pretty much always have been. That ain’t ever gonna change, you hear me? Ever since you strolled in here with that stupid Deputy uniform and a smart-ass grin and told John Seed to go fuck himself, you’ve been one of mine. And I ain’t never gonna give up on one of mine.”

The pacing had stopped, and so had the wrench. It was time- he couldn’t put it off anymore. Feeling incredibly undignified and not really giving a shit, Nick rolled on his back to the edge of the truck and scuttled out from underneath it. It took him a bit of a struggle to get himself upright, back twinging in protest all the while. But he got it done.

The flowers lay carefully abandoned by the tools Nick had discarded earlier. Dep was a few feet away, wearing a furrow in his barn’s floor. When they heard him stand they stopped abruptly, back to him. Their shoulders were hunched inward, trembling. They usually cut a pretty imposing figure without even meaning to; now they just looked small, like a kid playing dress up with their parents’ clothes. They were swamped in the black of their jacket.

Nick hated something about that coat on them- all dark and furred and too heavy. It reeked of corruption, or dominance, and he could just fucking bet it was gifted to them by none other than Joseph fucking Seed. But mostly, Nick hated it because it kept him from seeing his friend in there.

Quietly, careful not to disturb the fragile peace, Nick scooped up the flowers. “Canterbury bells, ‘faith, gratitude.’” He spoke passed the fear clawing its way up his throat, threatening to spill out from his lips. He could just see it, an oil slick down his chin and front, congealing and growing and obscuring his friend from his very eyes. But for every flower Nick took a step forward, surging passed that fear and swallowing it back in defiance.

Dep hadn’t moved.

“Queen Anne’s lace, ‘sanctuary.’ Tiger lilies, ‘happiness, prosperity.’” The last stem Nick offer to them over their shoulder. It was a second before they accepted it. He let his hand fall tentatively- softly so softly, they were like a newborn fawn, ready to bolt at any second- on their shoulder. The coat wrinkled slightly under his fingertips and the fabric almost physically repulsed him.

Instead, Nick gripped just a little tighter, to remind them he wasn’t going anywhere. His palm tingled- this was the first contact with Dep he’d had in- he didn’t know. Hell, for all Nick knew, he could wake up tomorrow and find they’d actually done it, they’d actually run off in the night. Every day he realized it could be the last contact he had with them.

The thought ate away at Nick.

He squeezed lightly again, cleared his throat and in a gravelly voice explained, “Lilac. It’s for family, and innocence. ‘Cause that’s what you are Dep. You’re innocent. And you’re family.”

He couldn’t seem to let go now. Their shoulder moved beneath Nick’s grip, but not quickly, not violently. The muscles shifted, bone creaked. They put their hands to their face, still holding tightly to the bloom he’d given them.

With a larger effort that Sisyphus ever exerted on his stone, Nick dropped his hand; his fingers grazed their hood on the way down. His gaze fell, and he wiped a hand over his own face; he was so very tired.

“So, uh, I guess that’s what I want you to know.” Nick told them, as confidence fled. He kept his hand over his eyes. “I don’t care what happened to you, I’m still with ya to the end of the line. And it’s- it’s okay if it takes a long time. I get it, if you can’t- be around us yet. Be around me yet. I know it’s- it’s gotta be fucking tough as shit. But you’re not alone. You've got me, however long you need, buddy.”

When his hand finally fell from his eyes, Nick was almost too tired to register the eyes looking back at him.

The pair of eyes looking back.

All breath shot out of Nick’s lungs but his body must have realized the importance of the moment, because his muscles locked up before he could ruin it by flailing. He stood, frozen like a deer in the headlights, feeling as if he suddenly acquired lockjaw.

Slowly, deliberately slowly, the Deputy lowered their hood; their hair was rough, and long, and matted as a rat’s nest; it badly needed a cut and it so dirty it could have been any color. Their face was streaked with grime, and pale from lack of sunlight, creating a resemblance to a raccoon around their eyes.

They looked tired.

Dep took hold of the hand Nick had placed on their shoulder and gentle pushed the mask into his palm.

“Fuck that.” Nick sputtered, hurling the mask to the ground. He didn’t even look down to see it shatter to pieces before he’d swept Dep into his arms.

His hand were clutching too tightly to that damn coat, he was leaning too close, probably suffocating them engulfed as they were by his hug, but Nick wouldn’t- goddamn couldn’t- let go.

“You have no fucking clue how good it is to see you again,” Nick told them, and meant it with his whole heart.

They huffed into his neck, hands coming up to hold on just as tightly.

Then the Deputy who had been still stiff, still scared- would that Nick could see the day Dep wasn’t scared anymore- the Deputy who had fought and died and been reborn for them, the Deputy who had run and hid from them, the Deputy who had refused for so long to see the family waiting for them to come back, settled carefully into his arms.

And the Deputy came home.

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