#(( it IS a little stinky to edit some posts but such is life... had to get used to it since it wont let me go back to legacy OTL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

syndxlla · 4 years ago

Text

Part eleven of the More To Love series

Summary: You get a chance to reflect on who you are, where you are with your relationships, and what you really want in life with the help of your mother, the Queen of Corellia. You meet some new seemingly friends, who quickly prove you otherwise.

Word Count: 7.1k, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: Non-consensual kiss, swearing, alcohol

Author’s note: i am LIVID. why tumblr only lets you have a certain amount of paragraphs in a post IDK! it’s dumb haha and the only reason i went over is because there is so much dialogue in this. BASICALLY. I am making the decision to go easy on myself. I know earlier today I said part 11 would be split into two, but i am going to just make the second half be part 12. SO. i made a new moodboard for this chapter! i hope you like it :).

i wanna say a big THANK YOU to @stinky-child for helping me edit this chapter and getting it out on time!

PART 12 WILL BE RELEASED THURSDAY, MAY 27TH AT 6pm PST, 9pm EST.

part ten

Koska escorted you back to your quarters, the castle corridors were finally starting to calm down a little bit, however, more and more special guests who would be staying in the palace over the weekend walked in and out of doors, most of them not paying any attention to you because of your drab attire. You hoped the knight made it to his meeting on time and dry. There was no way to know until tomorrow morning, however. Koska was silent as she walked behind you, her footsteps much lighter than the knight’s. Your hair was thick and frizzy from the effects of the elements, and you kept your face down out of a foreign sense of shame.

Keeping your face down can’t hide that sense of shame from everyone, however, and before you can make it to your room, you’re hearing a joyful gasp and footsteps pattering in your direction. You look up from your walk of shame to see someone very important to you, it’s not your Knight, it’s not even Soniee, no. It’s your mother, the Queen of Corellia. She’s accompanied by three Corellian guards and she’s wearing the most beautiful yellow gown you had ever seen. It was clearly a gift from Bo-Katan. You smiled brightly, relieved to see someone you love. It had only been a few weeks but it felt like an eternity. You had completely forgotten she would be coming to your engagement ball. You’ve been so preoccupied with the plans and teaching the Knight how to dance that it completely slipped your mind. Your mother had a wide smile on her face, too, and wore the traditional Corellian crown. You ran to her and embraced her fighting around the waist, something that was not appropriate for royalty in public like this but you couldn’t care less. You had been so emotionally confused over the last few weeks that there was nothing you needed more than a fulfilling hug from your parent. She hums with joy when you come into her arms, and she runs her slender fingers through your beautiful hair. You sigh of relief in her embrace.

“I had forgotten you were coming.” You admit, holding back tears of relief. She chuckles in response.

“You look a mess.” She replies and you’re the one to chuckle this time.

“I’ve had quite the day.” You smile, blushing as you remember who you spent it with. “Come, I have so much to tell you.” You pull away, holding her hands in yours and then leading her to the closest sitting room. You were finally starting to understand the layout of the Mandalorian palace, it only took two weeks. This room was the same blue as the royal color, you guide her to sit by you on the sofa, and Koska awkwardly follows. You look over to the handmaiden before standing and walking in her direction. “Lady Reeves, you are dismissed.” You nod while speaking in a regal tone, but after stating it, your voice hushes and you whisper to her, “Is he going to be alright?” You ask in reference to the Knight.

She nods once, “Even if he was late, he’s bound to duty by the Queen, he’ll be okay.” Your stomach twists.

“What does that even mean?” You ask, there is much he is not telling you.

Koska sighs, she seemed to regret saying that. “I’ll worry about him, you enjoy your time with your mother.” She nods to the Queen who was patiently awaiting your return. You smile a “thank you” and walk back to the Corellian Queen. When Koska closes the door finally, you slouch into the couch, feeling pure relief as you were alone with your kin.

“You look absolutely exhausted.” Your mother says.

“I am, life here is exhausting. There are so many rules, much more than back at home.” You awkwardly shrug.

“We miss you.”

“I miss you too, more than you know.” You were so homesick these days. “I had to spend four days learning all the rules and customs and I still take private lessons from the literal queen so I don’t embarrass her anymore.” You roll your eyes, knowing that you couldn’t express this arrogance to anyone else in the palace and taking advantage of the chance now.

“Oh, I'm sorry love, I worried that there might be a bit of a culture shock.” She takes your hand with hers, stroking the stop of it with her own cold hands.

“Is father here?” You ask, your eyes hopeful. That glimmer immediately fades when she sighs, her eyes leaving yours. “What? What’s wrong?”

“He’s not coming…”

“What? Why?”

“He’s… sick, I didn’t want to tell you but it’s your right to know. You would have eventually found out anyway.” She somberly explains.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, we think so. But traveling and socializing in his condition was not realistic. We understand that rumors will start, but his health is necessary before an impending war.” She frowns, and you try not to let it upset you too much. “Enough of that, tell me about this place.” Her tone immediately flips.

You smile, “It’s so hot, much hotter than Corellia. I mean the heat is exhausting and the dresses are heavy and the tea parties are always outside and I always feel overheated.” You complain.

“Do you at least like the prince?” She asks. “Is he cute?”

Now you must choose if you’re going to lie, like you have for the last fortnight, or be truthful with the only person you feel that you can be. You sigh, and just look at her, defeated, hoping that would be enough to tell her.

She hums empathetically. “Oh dear.”

“Yeah…” You sigh, happy she understood and you didn’t have to make the decision of communication.

“Well, keep your head up, I didn’t really like your father all that much until we had you.” She chuckles.

“What?” You ask, your eyes showing surprise. “I had no idea…” You weren’t sure how much you liked that thought, your parents had always been an example of a couple you’d like to experience for yourself. “Why had you never told me?”

“There was no reason for you to know before now. The older you get, the more you’ll learn what you need to hear.” She explains. You supposed she was right. “And remember, it’s supposed to be a partnership—marriage that is— it’s not so bad if you work at it.”

“Well, he certainly likes being solo.” You humph. “He’s very kind, and it’s clear he cares for his kingdom but-“ You knew you weren’t being completely truthful with her.

“But what?”

You debated your next words. You wanted to tell her, more than anything you wanted your mother to know what was really going on, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew she wouldn’t understand. This marriage is a diplomatic solution to an oncoming war of her home kingdom. She wouldn’t understand the strife. “Nothing.” You feel untruthful to yourself, but you can’t do anything about it. “I just feel like I will be unhappy in our marriage.”

“Marriage isn’t supposed to make you happy.”

You hated that, it wasn’t the first time she had said it to you, either. When an arranged marriage was first brought up, she said it then for the first time. The other time she said it to you was about three weeks ago, just before you were going to leave Corellia and come to this ornate prison. It was your last attempt to try and get out of it, but she uttered those words and you had to live with it.

This time, you pulled your hand away from hers. “But what about love? I thought you loved my father!?”

“I do love him, but that didn’t happen for a long time, like I said, not until you were born.”

“So then what’s the reason for all this? For sending me here for a big ball and a fancy wedding if I am not supposed to love the man I’m sharing these parties with? How am I to enjoy marriage before children then?” You stand up on these words out of frustration. You hated feeling like your only purpose in this world is to bear children, to produce an heir.

“Love between royals is not a natural thing, it can’t just happen between any two people. There must be that connection there and it often isn’t developed for a while.” She chuckles. “What? Did you think you were going to live inside one of those fairytales your wet nurse used to tell you before you went to sleep?” She asks, looking up at you, surprised.

“What do you mean ‘between royals’?”

“We must do what’s best for our people, it’s selfish to marry for love when you are royalty.”

You feel defeated.

“No… No, there's so much more to love. Love is not selfish, in fact, I believe that loving someone with our hesitation and unconditionally is the most selfless act one could ever do.” Your voice raises just a bit. You meant every word you said.

“If you feel this way about love, then surely you must love the Prince. What’s the problem then? We’ve been preparing you for this reality for years, it’s not a new concept that you would not love immediately, I can only imagine you would feel so emotionally because you have those feelings for someone.”

Did you?

You consider what she was saying, your eyes trailing to the side as you thought. You supposed she was right, there would be no reason for you to feel so passionately about it if you hadn’t experienced it for yourself.

But you weren’t having that experience with Korkie, the hell you weren’t.

Did you love the Knight? You don’t know his name, you don’t know his face, you don’t know anything about him and yet you are starting to think that infatuation has grown into adoration. Your legs feel weak, and you have to slowly lower yourself onto the couch again, feeling woozy from the realization. How did you let it get so far? Your confused face turns to look at your mother’s, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly open.

“I sense you realized something you didn’t already know.”

You slowly nod your head. Unsure of how to react, you fiddle with your fingers, trying to gain your bearings again. You expect your mother to speak up but she never does.

Before the conversation continues, however, the door is pulled open and three Knights are walking in, a Butler steps in, “Her Majesty, The Queen.” He says before nodding and stepping away. Bo-Katan glides into the room, regal as ever. You and your mother stand up from where you sat, curtsying for your hostess.

“Your Majesty.” She takes your mother’s hand, both of them smiling and kissing one another on either cheek. “I trust your travels were comfortable?”

“Yes, your coachmen were very hospitable.” Your mother nods.

Korkie then enters the rooms with another young Prince who you hadn't met before. He was blonde, and skinny as a twig. He wore a white and gold ceremonial cloak that covered his right shoulder. You smile at Korkie out of Obligation, and he and the other prince bow to the women in the room.

“Princess!” Korkie cheers, “This is my cousin, Prince Hugo of Bespin.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” He takes your hand and kisses the top of it, his smile charming and blue eyes bright. You were flattered by the gesture, humming.

“The pleasure is mine.” You follow royal protocol. Then, another woman enters the room. She’s tall, an intricate headpiece adorns long, black hair and she has hypnotic, black eyes hidden by deep set, hooded eyes. She’s beautiful, with toned skin and red dots drawn under her lips making her stand out from everyone in the room.

“Ah, Her Majesty Queen Clarya of Naboo.” Bo-Katan introduces. The Elven Queen Ahsoka then enters the room, and everyone, even the Queens bow out of respect before the door is closed. The parlor is suddenly very full, and your intimate moment with your mother is lost entirely. You are suddenly very aware of your disheveled look, and try to run your fingers through your hair a few times.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you.” Clarya says, smiling. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Taking your hand and giving you a friendly squeeze.

“Oh… I’m afraid I haven’t heard much about you.” You apologize.

“No troubles, You are all the gossip among the other Kingdoms.” The eastern queen explains.

“Yes, It appears you are.” Korkie says, moving to stand by your side. “How wonderful that my beautiful wife-to-be is regarded so highly across the world.” He tries to take your hand but you pull it away, not necessarily meaning to, but it was a reflex that you failed to suppress after realizing you were in love with an entirely different man. He clears his throat, and the aura in the room is awkward, you aren’t sure what to do, so you just say the first thing to come out of your mouth.

“Have any of you gone to the beach? It’s lovely!” You awkwardly smile before walking over to the drink cart underneath a portrait of a Manda’lor of a past generation. You try to ignore all the people, feeling a little embarrassed that they were all seeing you dressed like this. You didn’t even think of what suspicion could be born out of that phrase.

“Oh yes, our sandy beaches are widely loved by all.” Bo-Katan takes a seat on the sofa in the place you had sat at just moments before, crossing her ankles under her gown. You shakily pour amber liquid into a crystal glass, your hand shaking as you bring it to your lips, taking a sip of the alcohol.

“Nothing like the Corellian beaches, I assume?” Your mother asks. “Our beaches are rocky and often frozen over.”

“Ah yes, but the Corellian ship fjords are lovely, what a wonderful exposure to culture you raised your daughter with!” Ahsoka sings.

“She turned out alright.” Your mother teases and everyone chuckles warmly. You turn around after drinking, and sheepishly smile. Gods you hope she meant that.

“Well, we are all very excited for the ball tomorrow.” Clarya says, “My assistant worked on a mask for hours the night before we left. It will be an extravagant sight to see everyone dressed so festively.”

“Of course, but we all know none of us can compare to the fashion and extravagance of the Naboolians.” Korkie hums. Everyone chuckles again. You nervously looked out to all of them, you had just made possibly the biggest mistake of your life and none of them paid any attention to you despite it. You had just shown Korkie your first and only sign of true disinterest the night before your engagement ball and you desperately wished you could go back in time and take his hand instead of denying the act of affection, even if you didn’t feel good about it.

“I think you will all be pleased to hear that it was the Princess who came up with the Masquerade idea.” Bo gestures to you. You smile with your teeth, trying to act normal and not like you were secretly dying inside. There is general amusement when that is said, and you can’t help but fidget with the crystal alcohol glass, wanting to leave the room and return to the comfortable embrace of the Knight on the beach.

“Beautiful and smart!” Korkie’s cousin laughs, putting emphasis on the ‘and’. “It’s not every day you find a woman like that!” Everyone laughs again, and this time you force out a faux chuckle to seem more involved in the eyes of the others. “You better hang onto her, Kork!” Korkie smiled at his cousin's words, looking over to you. You feel weak, not liking all the attention. If this much attention was making you feel this way, what would the ball with hundreds of guests tomorrow night be like?

“Yes but, I can’t seem to remember going to the beach with you?” Korkie asks, his diplomatic voice cutting through the laughter. You nervously laugh. He knew something was up. How could you be so careless?

“What? Did I say something about the beach?” You try to play it off cluelessly.

“Oh come on, we all know you aren’t that ditzy.” His cousin groans

“Your fiance asked you a question, dear.” Your mother prods.

“Yes, did you go to the beach sometime during your time here?” Bo-Katan is the one to ask this time, and your legs are starting to feel unsteady.

“It’s not a bad thing, we just want to know.” Korkie takes a step in your direction, making you feel closed in. “We all love the beach here and we are happy you have gotten the chance to enjoy it.” You sensed there was an undertone with his true meaning.

You weren’t sure if you believed him when he said this, “Is it hot in here?” You chuckle, “I think I’ll have another drink, would you like one, Korkie? You ask before turning around and pouring another glass of brandy. He can see how shaky your hand is as you try to fill the cup. He stands behind you, wrapping his arm around you and cupping your hand with his in an attempt to make the pouring more steady. The action startles you, and you flinch as a reaction, dropping the crystal glass in your hand. It was already partially full, and it falls down to the floor in slow motion, golden drink splashing out of it as glass shatters on impact, making a loud, crashing sound that sends shards out across the floor and leaves a puddle of alcohol to soak into the bottom hem of Koska’s sister’s dress. The women of the room gasp from shock, and Hugo walks quickly over to see the mess. You look down at the glass in shock of what you just did, your heart sinking and stomach churning. Lady Tano is the next one to walk over to you, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to one of the arm chairs, helping you sit down. The room was deathly silent now, you could hear your pulse ringing through your ears. Ahsoka crouches before you, ruling your hand with hers and trying to comfort you from the unexpected shock. Korkies hands are balled into fists. Was he angry with you?

“No worries.” Hugo laughs, trying to be an entertainer, “Butler!” The Butler opens the door.

“Is everything alright?” He asks after bowing.

“Yes, we just made a little mess, would you be so kind as to clean it up?” Hugo walks Korkie, who seems to be just as shocked and embarrassed as you, over to another armchair. The butler snaps and then whistles and three young maids come in, each one getting on their hands and knees to pick up the pieces of glass.

“Princess?” Your mother says, “Do you have something you would like to say to the Manda’lor?” She awkwardly asks, clearly trying to make good from the situation, side-eying Bo.

Your pale face turns to look at Bo, who had that same disappointed frown that you always see on her.

“My deepest apologies, your Majesty.” You clear your throat before painfully looking over to where Korkie sat, his hand resting in his palm and expression down turned.

“Well!” Hugo takes the center of the room. “No use in sitting here in silence, mistakes happen! Right Auntie?” He says to Bo.

“Of course.” She smiles, physically accepting your apology with a reassuring nod.

“Lovely, would anyone like some music?” He asks.

“That would be lovely, Hugo.” Lady Tano says in her ethereal voice. He smiles and walks over to the baby grand piano in the corner of the room, the same baby grand that you played at for your Knight a few weeks ago.

“The Princess plays!” Your mother says, trying to alleviate any tension.

“She does?” Hugo makes direct eye contact with you. “Would you like to play a duet with me?”

“Hugo, she just-“ Ahsoka begins but is interrupted by your mother.

“Oh won’t you play for us Dear?” She asks, smiling.

“Please! I have wanted to hear you play since I was told you could.” Bo-Katan asks. It would be rude to decline a request from the Queen and the Host of the night.

You nod and stand up, that could be just the thing you need to feel better. You walk over to the piano, stopping just before Hugo.

“Bass or Soprano?” He asks, muttering so quietly that only you can hear it.

“Soprano.” You say. He pulls the bench out and sits first since he would be playing the lower part. You then sit next to him, your hands still slightly shaking.

“Do you know the ‘Dathomirian Waltz’?” He asks. You nod. “Lovely, key of D minor then, I’ll follow you.” He pulls his hands up to the keys, and you follow, taking two deep breaths, the first to calm your shaking hands, the second to conduct both of you in at the same time. Together you play a set of intricate chords, Hugo emphasizing on the bass notes, playing a complex scale that brought his left hand over his right several times. You carry the melody, playing just slightly louder than him and allowing yourself to fall into the trance of performing. Your hands finally quit shaking after a few phrases of the music, allowing it to soothe your nerves. Music has always done that for you. All of the nobles in the room smile, the Naboolian Queen sighing at the beauty of the complicated piece. You can’t keep the smile from pulling on your lips. Korkie’s cousin was very talented, much better than you. His hand brushed against yours several times and you couldn’t help yourself from thinking about the Knight when Hugo touches you.

This was something you would never get with him. You would never get to share a memorable moment with others, never get to rub hands against each other in front of three Queens, never get to look one another in the eye without shame or secrecy. The thoughts start to overcome your consciousness, causing you to play a sour note. No one seemed to notice, but you were more aware of it than you should have been.

A beautiful piece, carefully composed and rehearsed, performed with the intent to dazzle, the intent to impress. However there will always be the sour note, an incorrect chord that the audience might not hear but those giving the show will dwell on undoubtedly.

Like the Kingdom of Mandalore.

——————————————

“Rise and Shine your Highness!” A sing-songy voice calls out to you before pulling the long, draping curtains apart and letting the warm Mandalorian sun pour into the room. You groan and flip over onto your side, your body is still exhausted from yesterday evening and you would like to sleep in a little longer.

“Oh, don’t give us that.” A more brash voice groans and you recognize it as Koska’s. You can hear a number of other bodies file into the suite, maybe three or four. The handmaid's pull in the elven dress and a light breakfast. You can still smell the salt water on your forearm as you swing your hand over your eyes. You were not a morning person. Koska walks up to your bed before sitting on the edge of it, placing her tan hand on your shoulder. “We’ve let you sleep in long enough, we have to get you dressed and ready for tea with the Queens.”

“Queens?” You mumble, slurring the ‘s’ out.

“Yup, both Bo-Katan and your mother as well as the Queen of Naboo and Duchess of the Felucian mountain Kingdom are all eager to spend brunch with you in the Garden.” More guests arrived this morning while you were still sleeping, but it wasn’t until Koska explained to you about the women waiting for you that you remembered what day it was. You opened your eyes wide, flopping your arm onto the mattress beside you and looking up at her drowsily.

“The masquerade is today.” You say out of realization. She smirks and slowly nods her head. Soniee budges into your conversation, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

“We have two dresses for you to wear today! This one,” She pulls forward a gown that isn’t quite as full and round as the dress for the ball, but is still a lovely dress with a pretty skirt and pearls embroidered into the bodice. “And of course the elf dress.” She nods to the pink and gold gown that sat on a sewing-bust, shimmering in the light. “We won’t get you into the ball gown until later tonight.” She hums.

“Now, we have to get you cleaned up, your hair is a mess.” Koska stands up and pulls the heavy down comforter from off of you. The loss of warmth elicits another sleepy groan from your lips and you stare up at the ladies in waiting frustratedly. “Up!” Koska’s serious voice commands and you’re scared enough of her that you jump up out of bed, pulling the nightgown sleeve up that has been slowly slipping down your shoulder and showing more and more skin. “That’s better.” Koska hums, “Let’s get you a bath, yeah?” She walks towards the bath room, opening the golden gilded doors and into the naturally-light room. You will always admire the beauty and effort put into the Mandalorian palace despite the internal battle with living here. You follow her into the room, still sleepy and walking slowly but eventually making it to the tub in the center of the room. The bath has already been drawn, which they must have done in your sleep (they’ve never done that before). You strip out of the cream-colored nightie and dip into the warm water. It smelled of lavender and honey and you allowed your muscles to relax into the bubbles. It was perfect, exactly what you needed to clear your racing and stressful mind. Your muscles were sore from yesterday and the warm water and flowery oils soaked them blissfully. You sigh at the sensation but before you can enjoy it anymore, Koska is dumping the warm water over your head, wetting it completely. It’s unexpected and you gasp from shock, your eyes glued shut to keep the water out of them. Damp hands come up from out of the water to wipe your eyes but then another dump of water is pouring over your head and you’re back at square one. Koska was a much harsher bather than Sonnie was.

All is forgiven however when she starts massaging your scalp, cleaning your hair. You relax back into the tub and enjoy the seawater and wind getting rinsed out. The other ladies come in, one on either side of the tub who files your nails, and Sonnie brings in a towel and silk robe. The other handmaiden works at your calloused feet with a pumice stone and you try not to let it tickle too much. It was true pampering and you loved every second of it. Usually there’s only one maiden to bathe you but five was divine. You assumed this was the treatment the Queen always received.

After you are properly cleaned, your Corellian tea is brought in and you’re left alone for as long as you like. You slowly sip on the purple shaded drink, waking up from it’s comforting properties. You sigh deeply, allowing the fragrant air to fill your lungs while you look out of the tall, narrow window in the center of the outside wall. You could not see the ocean from here, but instead the distant roofs of Keldabe. It was a beautiful summer day, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and you could hear the birds who have nested in the nooks and crannies of the towers chirping. You knew you had a long day ahead of you, and you wanted to try and enjoy it as much as you could. You never really enjoyed the social aspect of royalty, and that’s all today will be, but you’re ready to brave it head on.

An hour passes before you are finally dressed in the first gown of the day. Your hair is braided back so that it will have a desirable wave for the ball tonight. You are snuggly tied into the pearled bodice of the dress, and you run your hands up and down the beading, allowing it to tickle your soft palms.

Koska pulls open the door, and you’re expecting to see the Knight standing there stoically as always, but he isn’t. The hallway is completely empty, in fact, and you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that overcomes your body. Where was he?

You clear your throat, and look back at Koska, who was adjusting the skirt of your gown as you walked.

“Where is he?” You ask, your voice hushed almost to a whisper but not quite. There were a million possibilities behind his absence and not a single one of them was ideal. Koska lifts up from her crouched position, smoothing the front pleats of her dress.

“What?” She asks and you sigh out of frustration, there was absolutely no way she didn’t know what you were talking about but you had to be vague because of all the ladies in waiting listening in.

“Who will be accompanying me to the garden?” You say with a forceful tone, trying to prod at a deeper meaning to the question.

Luckily, Lady Reeves picks up on it, and she looks behind you. You felt like she was avoiding eye-contact and it only made you more stressed and confused. “I’ll be escorting you, Highness.” She nodded, moving a step forward and then taking the lead down the corridor. You follow hesitantly, and wait until you are far enough down the hall from the other ladies back in your suite to speak again.

“Don’t horseshit me.” You mutter behind her. She keeps her chin up high as usual. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he.”

Koska doesn’t answer.

“Koska, you promised me he would be okay.” You try not to let the emotion show through your tone but that was a challenge. You felt guilty for some reason. If he was in trouble, it would be entirely your fault. The words shake in your throat and maybe it’s the tight corset and the fact that you are descending the stairs but you’re out of breath and it’s hot, so hot.

“He’s fine, I swear to the stars.” She whispers, saying it straight forward instead of turning back at you in an attempt to stay calm and unsuspecting to watchful eyes.

“Well then why didn’t you tell me that?” You ask, twiddling your thumbs.

“I couldn’t… there’s more to it but-“

“But what? What could be so secretive that you have to keep it from your future queen?” You say through gritted teeth and immediately after, Koska is spinning around on the staircase and looking up at you with a furrowed brow. You felt like you were being scolded by an impatient tutor despite the fact that you out-ranked her.

“You don’t even want to be the Queen.” She says in a whisper-shout, starting to sound as angry and emotional as you were just moments before.

“You’re right, I don’t-“ You bite back.

“So why are you here, then?”

You aren’t sure how to answer, the obvious answer is for Corellia. You were promised something in return for your ability to produce an heir and look like a porcelain figurine on a high shelf. But you also knew it would make your family happy, and your Kingdom. You would be making them proud by marrying so rich. You made a promise.

But now you think you’re starting to stay for an entirely different and unethical reason. Something that is inherently a trap and you know it, and yet here you are, fussing over it at every change you have.

Koska rolls her eyes and scoffs before continuing down the stairs.

“Who spit in your porridge this morning?” You reply.

“You did.” She groans in response.

“I’m sorry, but what did I ever do to you?” You ask when you complete the steps down and start down another corridor, one section of the massive palace closer to your destination.

Koska is the one not to answer this time.

It infuriates you that everyone is keeping secrets from you, your entire experience in Mandalore feels built on deception and being left-out. And now, the two people who finally seemed to be on your side aren’t with you in one way or another on such a big day. Koska is angry with you for no reason and you have no idea where your knight is.

The rest of the walk to the Gardens is silent, and before you know it, you are plopped down on an uncomfortable wicker chair in the hot sun, sipping on lukewarm lemon tea and wondering how much longer you have to suffer. Your mother and Bo were giggling about something, the rest of the court buzzing with conversation and ignoring you as always. Was it possible that you were the problem? You ask yourself this after another sip of the tea, a lemon slice bumping up against your upper lip a few times. As you think, you hold the dainty cup against your mouth, losing yourself in thought without realization. Your pretty eyes stare down at the green grass of the Garden. The grass never gets green back home.

You start subconsciously bouncing your leg as you thought to yourself. Everyone seemed to ignore expect for Korkie and your Knight— who both want to fuck you. Maybe that was the only desirable thing about you. This wasn’t the first time you felt insecure about the relationship you have developed with the Knight. He’s so quiet, so different from you. Were you falling for a trick?

Was he?

Tea must have gone by fast because just before the pearls of your dress start to burn against your arms from the heat exposure, you’re excusing yourself and wandering back inside.

“Strange girl.” One of the noble ladies says to Bo when you walk away. You don’t hear it, you can’t hear anything except for your deafening thoughts.

“Are you sure she’s the one for your nephew?” Another asks. If you had known your mother was silent for all of this in fear of losing her reputation or even the deal between Corellia and Mandalore, you would have been furious.

“Well his father was an outcast, too.” One chuckles. “I guess you Kyrze’s attract the wallflowers.” A few hummed in amused response.

“Well his father wasn’t just an outcast, he was a downright scandal-“

“My sister loved him, and that is all that matters.” Bo interrupts. The laughter quickly dies out.

“Don’t tell me you believe in love, too.” One laughs.

“You aren’t married, what could you know of love?” The same one bo interrupted says.

“I do believe in love, which is why I am not married.” The Queen reiterates. “And I don’t think she’s the right fit for my Nephew, she’s too… outspoken. He needs someone who won’t outshine him.” They chuckle again, all do but your mother, who is still meekly silent.

“Well with the engagement Ball tonight, it is far too late to back out now.” One teases, and the laughter only grows.

Bo-Katan stares in the direction you left.

You huff down the hall, your arms folded and neck sweaty from the heat. You are looking back and forth, studying the layout of the hall in search of something. You’re looking for the smallest idea of where the knight could be but you aren’t very successful.

While all the fully armored guards of the Mandalorian palace are dressed identically, you are almost certain you would be able to spot your boy in a crowd of a thousand of them. You aren’t sure why, but there is something different about him, something that sticks out from the rest. Somehow you two were connected, and it made it so he was always plaguing your mind, even when you are with your literal fiance. Even when you are far away from him and have no clue where he is for the first time in two weeks.

Separation Anxiety.

You aren’t watching where you’re going, which makes you run into a tall, lanky boy. You yelp out in apologetic surprise, looking up at the person blocking your stressed search. A blonde boy flips around to look at you and you’re half expecting to see Korkie but it isn’t.

His Cousin, Hugo, looks down at you with his same charming smirk as always.

“Princess!” He bows.

“My apologies, Hugo!” You exclaim.

“Oh please, you are perfectly fine. You looked distressed? I hope It was not something I did?”

“Of course not!” You reassure, awkwardly smiling. “Uh- may i ask what you were doing in the center of the corridor?”

He chuckles, “Admiring this art.” He nods to an expansive, framed oil painting on the wall. It was of a tall man with a long face and alarming smirk. What stuck out to you, however, was that he held in both hands the same black sword from the royal portraits upstairs by the war room.

“The art is beautiful here.” You smile.

“Yes, my Aunt Satine worked hard to make it culturally rich.”

“Did you know her?”

“Yes, I am a bit older than Korkie, and I knew her for several years before she passed.”

“Are you… second in line?”

“I am.” He says with a classic amused smirk.

“So maybe you can answer a question for me, then.” You ask as you look up at the art. “What in the world is that?” You ask in reference to the blade.

“That, my foreign Princess, is the Dark Sword of Mandalore.”

“The what?” You cluelessly ask.

“A sacred weapon that the rightful ruler possesses, it’s rather powerful.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You look up at it in awe.

“Hah, yes. It is made of pure obsidian. The white is enchanted quartz veins. It is practically invincible, an elven Mand’alor forged it when he was just a boy.”

“What? There were Mandalorians who were part elf?” You ask, your eyes peeling off of the art and onto your companion.

He looks at you almost confused, “There is much you do not know about my Kingdom?”

“No… I’m afraid not.” You shamefully admit.

“Most don’t,” He shrugs and returns to the conversation unbothered, “It’s history is rather complicated.”

The two of you were quiet for a long time. Your eyes were glued to the stern face of the man in the portrait. You wondered who he was. Hugo is the first to speak up.

“You played beautifully last night.” You doubted he didn’t notice the incorrect notes and mistakes you made several times, maybe he was just being polite by ignoring them. You turn to look at him and smile kindly.

“As did you.” You return the compliment. He looks at you, and you must have been distracted by something other than him because you weren’t aware that his eyes were darting between your eyes and your lips.

Hugo forces a kiss on you.

Just like how Korkie did a few weeks ago in the library. It’s fast because you angrily pull away just as fast as he placed it on you.

“What?” You say like an idiot, looking up at him in shock.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t feel it?” He gets defensive immediately. The worst part is that it wasn’t even that bad of a kiss, much softer than Korkies, but nowhere as tender as the kisses the Knight would lay on you in the water or behind a closed door. Your entire body seemed to seize up, and you couldn’t get any words out. Not any words that you wanted to say. You just looked up at him, vulnerable and confused. He leans down to do it again but you’re able to turn your head to the side, keeping his lips off of you.

“I am… in love with another man.” You say, clearing your throat.

“You and I both know that isn’t my cousin.”

No use denying it at this point, “yes, but I am still engaged to him. I cannot just be disloyal to the future Mand’alor.” You mutter, embarrassed but trying to keep your cool. You knew you were lying, because you weren’t staying loyal to Korkie. No, you were outright cheating on him and you were falling in love with the boy you were cheating with. You were falling in love. You were very exposed, after all. Anyone could turn the corner or look through the windows and see you. It was different this time, however. Usually hiding your kisses are exciting, but that was only with the Knight. “Please,” You voice betrays you, and the emotional shake is heard through your clenched jaw, “Excuse me.” You push passed him frustratedly, making sure to shove him over a little with your shoulder. You angrily walk back to your room, finally getting there without help for the first time.

When you turned down the Corridor to your suite, you were hoping to see the beskar-clad boy who held you last night, but he still wasn’t there. You hold back emotional tears, but not seeing the one who brings the most comfort to you makes you break. Two crystal tears roll down your cheeks.

You have been taken advantage of too many times in this forsaken castle.

You pull open the door, the golden afternoon light reflecting warmly off of the gold-leafed furniture and decorations is a stark contrast from the bleak hallway. Your bed has been made, and things have been tidied up since you were in here last. You flop onto the mattress, your arms stretched out from your sides, looking up at the sheer canopy above where you lay.

Two hours pass. You think you fell asleep but you cannot remember. If you did, no dreams were had.

Soniee opens your door with trepidation after two soft knocks, “Princess, It is time to prepare for the ball.” Her voice is so timid. You twist your head to look at her, the other ladies from this morning were behind her. Koska was not with them.

You sit up from the bed, rubbing a crook in your neck from how you were laying...

—

authors note (again): i know this isn’t the best chapter ending but ya know... IT WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE

Anyways..... see you tomorrow? i guess? haha

Taglist: @remmysbounty @snow30285 @what-iwish-you-knew @softly-sad @carbonated-beverage @frogllady @baileys-corner @song-of-sea-and-sky @leaiorganas @weirdowithnobeardo @ginger-swag-rapunzel @bewitchedbodyandsol l @mograh @justavolcano @theokatz @lowkeytesss @hallway5 @dat-girl-in-corner @news4bees @istealyof00d @songofcosplay @waffles4lif3 @mcueveryday @310ra @thatonedindjarinfan @songofseraphine @callmekane @theelilbritt @bbwithaknife @firstofficerwiggles @jedi-jesi @ironbabey @minttchipp @bel-ppa @honey-hi @cp11 @venomous-ko @bbwithaknife @lunatic-sunsets @1800-fight-me @foundtheavacados @elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @florenceivy @theanothersherlockian @spideysimpossiblegirl @mandomistress @floraandfrost @paradoxpictures @stinky-child

“if you are included in the taglist, you are expected to interact with the post you are tagged in (ex. reblogs, comments and notes), if I notice that you are not interacting with the applicable post, you will be removed from the taglist”

—

part twelve

182 notes · View notes

thisgusting · 2 years ago

Text

there was no denying that hawk was a girl's girl. or well... whatever she indentified as, at the moment. but... the point is: she will jump into a buring house and save every single woman's life, even if it meant losing her own. don't test her. or do, the outcome won't be nice. "somethin' along the lines of..." hawk trailed off, putting her free hand over her mouth, muffling the sound that was coming out of it, "blah, blah, blah... — they're being too boring, we need to..." a pause, more muffled sounds. god, she's annoying. "—... and we will edit it in a way..." and again... "the audience will love it..." after this ever so captivating performance, all hawk could do was walk further into the studio and rest her back against one of the mirrored walls. extending her arm out, she shook the tiny fries container, offering jiyoon some of the potato goodness.

"all i'm sayin' is that if we stick together and make vague posts on the social media, the people will see how scummy the shitheads are... — or well... i dunno how you idols do your phone shenanigans, 'cause i can do that alone, if you're not allowed to. i'm not about to have you putting your phone into one of your crevices and running for the hills just to write a silly little thing... —— what if the hills don't have signal, huh ??" realizing that she probably talks way too much without making a tinge of sense, dawon decided to stop for a moment, and look around. "whenever the camera is on one of us, or even pointing in the general direction of where we are, we gotta smile. a lot. full on cheese. smile so much that we turn into joker, you know what i'm saying ?? i'll talk to some of my friends who had dealt with that, and get as many tips as i can. because i can fuck up my career, but you ?? i would lose sleep if anything happened to you. the world is your stage, you're young... — you gotta take that stinky-ass-bull by the the fuckin' horns, and make it your bitch..." // @wcvensouls

well, that was very much alarming — but jiyoon was also someone that would normally get startled easily if she was caught off guard while being distracted with something else, so perhaps she wasn't the best person to judge that kind of thing. after all, shew as already on edge most of the time when it came to work related things — even more so when it was a competition. eyes widened rather considerably as she looked up at hawk, lips parting but no words coming out as she waited for the other to continue, chest tightening just slightly with anxiety and concern about whatever it might possibly be. it took jiyoon a moment or two to understand what hawk was saying, but once she understood, she couldn't say she had relaxed at all. " wait, wait... w—what did you hear them say? " the idol asked, concern now clear on her features. " how are they going to do that? " oh no, that didn't sound good. it didn't sound good at all. however, it was indeed a relief to know that it wasn't true, even if she would be the only one knowing that if the producers went through with it and succeeded. " i... i like you too, you know..! " she added, not wanting hawk to think otherwise too because of what they were doing. " but... how would we do that..? "

/ @allbettr

#wcvensouls #hawk y. threads.#and she wants people to take her seriously...

26 notes · View notes

incorrect-sdv-quotes · 5 years ago

Text

Okay so I know this is a SDV Incorrect quote blog but I really wanted to show off my SDV headcanon’s so you may ignore this post if you wish (I’ll go back to the normal posts after this, I have like 13 quotes queue’d up right now)

Headcanon’s under the cut:

1.Alex’s real first name is Alexander he just prefers to go by Alex

2.Alex is a trans male so he was born female but transitioned to male at age 13

3.The bachelors ages are (listed youngest to oldest):

Alex: 19

Sebastian: 19 (one month older then Alex)

Sam: 20

Harvey: 25-30

Elliott: 36

Shane: 38

4.Despite Sam being older then him Alex is taller (if you put them side by side Sam looks taller but that’s only cause of his hair if you flattened it you could see Alex was taller)

5.Sebastian is secretly a vampire (He does look like one anyway)

6. Haley and Alex kind of have a Hazel and Xander from Bunk’d relationship where they’re kinda friends but one of them *cough cough* Haley *cough* has a huge crush on the other to where it’s at yandere point- Haley is not QUITE as crazy about Alex that Hazel is about Xander and unlike Hazel Haley can hide the craziness she does have around people but when it’s just her and Alex she’s all crazy and clingy-

Like, she’ll call him pet names like “My jock prince” or “Alex-zandy-” or “My knight in shining armor” Etc. etc- or hug him and never let go until someone LITERALLY prys her off- Talk about nutty nutty nut-so-

7. My headcanon voices for the bachelors are: (Well some of them, if a name is in strike through that means I don’t have one for that one- yet)

Alex: Shining Armor from MLP

Sebastian

Sam: Rottmnt Leo/2020 Sonic the Hedgehog/Dewy from Ducktails (this one might change)

Harvey: Fozzie Bear (Harvey: WaKa WaKa (I’m sorry))

Elliott: Gunther from Shake It Up

Shane

8.Shane is basically the god of chickens he’s such a good caretaker of chickens that he could summon an army of chickens to peck the eyes out of everyone in town with one “Babock” CHICKEN ARMY!!

If you decided to read this post and you liked my headcanons then this is it for now more might be added later as I play the game and scroll through the SDV tags on Tumblr more

EDIT 1: More headcanons!:

9: Elliott is an amazing actor but a horrid horror-movie actor (It’s just his screams are unrealistic he will literally just say “Aaaah” otherwise it’s the same as the rest of his acting) (This scream-glitch is an easy fix if you yell “Ghost” more on that in 10)

10: Elliott is TERRIFIED of ghosts even those cute and/or clearly fake ghosts (Why else do you think Spirits Eve/Halloween has Skeletons every year and not ghosts? No one wants to scare anyone Too bad.) Actually Alex dared Elliott to watch the Disney Junior show Vampirina which went fine until Demi came on screen- Elliott literally wet himself and screamed for 3 whole hours- (Poor Alex who had to listen to that the whole time-)

11: Elliott treats his pocket crab as his ACTUAL son, not as his pet but as his actual biological son (it’s actually really cute)

12: The portraits in this video for a portraits mod is how the characters actually look to me (Excluding Elliott Sam and Sebastian they still live in my brain with their cannon looks): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmBW8BzSZpU&list=WL&index=1&t=5s

13: Krobus is Sebastian’s father (yeah you THINK it would not make sense along with Hc numb.5 but if you think about it if his father is a monster and his mother is human he’s gonna be born as a human-looking monster! Which is a Vampire!)

EDIT 2: Damnit. I was scrolling through this and I realized I missed a Hc and it slipped through the original post and the EDIT 1!

14: Alex has Dyslexia (this bugger Hc belonged in the original post but it slipped through both edits)

EDIT 3: MORE HEADCANNONS-

15: Both Abigail and Sebastian used to have hair to match their parents (Abby’s was brown (Like said in game) and Sebastian’s was Ginger) but due to their “Unusual” parents (Abigail: Wizard Sebastian: Krobus) their hair changed color when they got older and their mothers just pretended they died their hair so both the towns people and Abigail and Sebastian themselves would not freak out

16: Sebastian has snake bite piercing's but he only wears them when he’s alone (he got them in the first place cause 1: Sam dared him and 2: he decided it would be a fun way to rebel against dead to Sebastian Demetrius, he didn’t have to keep them but he ended up liking the look)

17: Sebastian owns a giant frog plush, it’s twice the size of him, is really soft and is incredibly fat (it’s to the point it’s just a circle that has stubby legs) he loves it more then anything Excluding Alex but he does not want anyone finding out he loves it let alone owns it so he stuffs it under his bed when people are in and/or near his room

18: Sebastian’s first word was literally “Froggy”

Ex:

Robin: Can you say “mama”?

Baby!Sebastian: ...Froggy!

Robin:

Robin: Out of all words your first word is “Froggy”? Really?

19: The shortest to tallest Bachelors are:

Shane

Sam (If you take his hair and go *Squishes flat*)

Alex

Sebastian

Sam (If you count the added height from his Mullet)

Harvey

Elliott (Tall stinky sea dude)

20: Sam got Sebastian to scream “Bubbles” for 5 hours straight

Details on that:

Sam: It’s impossible to say “Bubbles” threateningly

Sebastian:

Five munities later:

Robin: Uhhhh Sam? Why is my son on the roof screaming “BUBBLES”?

21: Sebastian owns a biker jacket but he only wears it when riding his motorcycle cause the jacket makes him look way more goth then emo and he prefers the emo look over goth look despite he acts more like a goth

22: One Feast of The Winter Star Sebastian got everyone an empty box and when they opened it Seb said: “It’s a void of nothingness. Just like life.” He did not get in trouble or nothing cause your allowed to give what you want but he did not do that again

23: Sebastian requires glasses to read, he can see perfectly but when it comes to reading on a computer or on paper he needs glasses

24: Sam does a perfect Darth Vader voice and Darth Vader breathing noises

25: Sebastian has vampire powers (cause he is a vampire (Hc 5)), he knows about them and is chill about it but he does not use them unless necessary cause he just does not feel the need to use them otherwise (His powers include, immortality (he also can’t be killed cause on my take on Vampires the stuff that “Traditionally” harms/kills them is just a mith and actually does nothing to them), super strength, increased speed, fast self-healing, telekinesis (I know this is not “Traditionally” a vampire power but Seb does have it) and the ability to change into a bat)

26: Both Sebastian and Elliott are actually pretty jacked (Not Alex level jacked but still) you just can’t see it unless they’re shirt-less (but in Seb’s case at least loose the hoodie)

27: Harvey’s doctor’s mallet weapon is just as heavy and as big as himself so he rarely goes into combat cause he has trouble welding his own weapon-

Harvey: Time to explore the mines! *grabs his giant doctors mallet*

Harvey: Nope going down. *falls backward with a thud*

28: Elliott carries at least one very sharp pencil with him at all times so if he sees a very annoying person or a slime that escaped the mines he’ll grab it and go *StAb*

29: Everyone else makes Hermit jokes around Elliott which he finds funny and annoying at the same time (They used to do the jokes about Sebastian as well but they stopped cause when they did Seb strangled them Darth Vader style) Ex of the hermit jokes:

*singing* Someone’s on the beach with a hermit! There’s a hermit on the beach I know I know! Someone’s on the beach with a hermiiiit! And the hermit’s name is Elliott!

30: If you think Elliott’s cannon SDV schedule is anti-social you should see how anti-social he gets when writing a book-

EDIT 4: Surprise, there’s more

31: Elliott is a mermaid merman (he’s a human by day half human half fish by night but he’ll change forms sooner if you dump water on him- found that out by Haley throwing water on him in hopes he’ll melt-)

32: When in ‘fish’ form Elliott’s tail is incredibly strong (if you get hit by it you’ll go flying 900 feet in the air in 5 seconds at full strength)

33:Elliott only lets Harvey call him “Elly” if anyone else does so expect Elliott to dump water on himself then hit you with his fish tail)

34:Vincent will sing The Little Mermaid song “Under the sea” around Elliott and Sebastian (Sebastian cause think about it and Elliott cause he’s an IRL Mermaid)

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #headcanons #not a quote #I have to edit this like 100 times cause I'm dealing with a strikethrough glitch

73 notes · View notes

samandmaxanotherway · 5 years ago

Text

i had planned forever ago to make a full fan soundtrack for AW (fic) but then never finished it/lost in interest in trying to find songs, so i figured instead that i would just share the songs tht were as insp for me while writing AW instead!! bc hey, why not lol. im just listing these in order on my playlist BUT im also gonna give context as to why these songs were insp if/when possible which will have spoilers to AW but tbh im assuming if ur traversing this blog u’ve already read it gkjhg. songs listed under the cut!!

-kira

ok so this was being written when i was like. rlly into hadestown & i kept making connections between the story & the songs sOOOOO we’re gonna list all the hadestown songs first gkjfhg

Doubt Comes In (mostly for the scene prior to sam’s revival, where max is questioning if he’ll even get him back)

Epic II (sort of like a song to depict max’s feelings of isolation & anger toward sam growing distant from him over the years)

Wait For Me (BIG song for sam whenever max loses his brain......)

Hey, Little Songbird (this song reminds me of the scene where skunkape’s trying to convince max to side w/ him ok)

Chant (Reprise) (listened to this song w/ the mental image of everyone pulling together to make their final move (primarily whenever sam’s fighting skunkape/trying to stop the maimtron to save max) & also specifically imagined this w/ sam as orpheus, superego as eurydice & skunkape as hades so ✌)

Epic III (takes place aFTER sam gets revived & idk i associate this w/ sam confessing that he got scared of losing max & that he let it consume him to the point of it damaging their relationship & apologizing to max for kinda neglecting him)

Wait For Me (Reprise) (u know damn well this happens between sam & superego before sam goes to stop the maimtron from killing max)

ok now we’re done w/ hadestown here’s some other songs now lmaO

I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab For Cutie (during the scene w/ sam & superego as sam’s fading away........idk im emo 😔)

I’d Give Anything - Tangled (sam song, specifically during the week or so when max is a monster & he misses him a lot)

Far Away - Tyga (I ASSOCIATE THis mostly with the part where sam finds out max had his brain removed, actually the pic for tht part is named after this song lmao)

I Bet My Life - Imagine Dragons (overall just a sam song, more leaning to right before he goes to skunkape’s ship to stop the maimtron)

Caraphernelia - Pierce The Veil (max song, post-breaking up w/ sam. it’s his angry break-up song basicall y gkJKHGKJGH)

Sleepwalking - Elliot Lee (also a max song, upset abt his rocky relationship w/ sam :( )

Better Than Me - Hinder (SAM SONG, lamenting abt the fact tht he realizes its mostly his fault tht him & max broke up & how he believes max deserves better than him. mostly during the week where max is mia bc Giant Monster)

Come Hang Out - AJR (this is mostly pre-AW but it kinda fits w/ sam progressively growing more distant bc he’s trying so hard to be careful)

Zombie - Damned Anthem (not really fitting for anything tbh but i DID listen to this song while writing skunkape attacking max & it WAS almost the trailer song as well so there’s that lol)

Sink or Swim - Castor Troy (i think is insp primarily bc of /scourgadow’s awesome s&m edits but i do remember listening to it on a loop while writing sam going through his ‘trial’ for the chthonic destroyer)

Main Theme - Pacific Rim (associate this a lot w/ the overall part when max is a monster)

Miracle - The Score (hhEY i’ve rbed this song on this blog before gkjfhgj. yeah this is a sam song, specifically during the week when max is a monster)

A Violent Encounter & Revived Power - Chris Baines (u already know damn well what this is for but i’ll say it anyway; whenever sammy’s scaling maxthulu. shadow of the elder god babey /j)

The Forgotten Children - Aranzazu Calleja (its the trailer sonnngggggg)

Army of One - Shelby Merry (i think i listened to this on a loop at some point, & also its a girl stinky song)

Saving Metroville - The Incredibles (put this bad boy on a loop while writing sam & stinky going up against skunkape bc it is, in my opinion, one of the hardest hitting final fight osts)

Happier - Marshmello ft. Bastille (sam song, specifically for the beginning chapter when he decides to break up w/ max bc all theyre doing is fighting....)

Trying to Save Stitch - Lilo & Stitch 2: Stitch Has a Glitch (this is during the part when max is transforming into a monster!!!!)

#music #another way fanfic #ask to tag //

10 notes · View notes

adultswim2021 · 4 years ago

Text

Ephemera Week (2002)

Continuing my posts about all the second-run garbage, one-off specials and other crap that aren’t technically Adult Swim originals. Tonight I’m going to cheat a bit, I’m gonna get all my John K trashing out on this post and then tomorrow we’ll do a lean and mean rundown of his (and other’s) Adult Swim specials.

The Ripping Friends (originally aired on Fox Kids, 2001-2002) The Ripping Friends premiered on Fox Kids, though wikipedia describes it as a “Canadian” cartoon. I think it aired on Teletoon simultaneously. Please don’t ask me to do more search on this; the wikipedia article seriously downplays Teletoon’s involvement and I simply don’t care. No matter, this is the only significant television product by John K outside of Ren & Stimpy, and it’s actually a fairly interesting show.

The show was about four superheros who live together and are friends, and they beat up weird gross bad guys and stuff. They’re like the Justice League, but instead of Snapper Carr they have Jimmy the Idiot Boy, a John K original character who had previously appeared in his shitty George Liquor webseries.

I’m no devotee of John K’s: most of his post Ren & Stimpy work is more bad than good, and he has this style that worships animation above all else. Storytelling, film-making, comic timing, good writing, etc. are all things that allude him. For a while his unique visual style was what brought all the boys (err, young teenage girls) to the yard. The cracks started to show when he started dedicating his life to shoddy-looking web toons and fleeting projects like... well, this. I had no serious intention of rewatching Ripping Friends before writing this blog post. But I did throw on the first episode and watched the first five minutes of it. Honestly? It wasn’t as bad as I remembered it. But, it was also five minutes. I would actually be interested in revisiting this series in a more fair state of mind. But that’s just it: the thing that makes John K good are the restrictions that evil corporations put on him. When he’s allowed to be his imperious self-proclaimed genius creator self the stuff he turns out is utter dreck. The Simpsons couch gags are like mean-spirited parodies of John K cartoons. Also, overlooking his being a rapist can be a lot for some. I mean, it probably should be, huh?

Ripping Friends is visually interesting. It’s got that digital animation clunkiness that’s pretty standard in this era, but it could be worse. The humor could be a little better. When I say that John K worships animation above all else, What I mean is is that his cartoon characters are like actors that chew scenery. Nothing is pithy, and you’d never describe John K’s style as “relentless” or “fast-paced”. The shows he does typically stop everything to ask you to appreciate just how good the drawings are. You can never get immersed in a John K project. He’s always asking you to PLEASE NOTICE HOW GOOD THIS IS. Ripping Friends could be better with tighter editing. As it stands, the show comes off as the opposite of what it’s trying to be. That is to say: it’s bland. All that other stuff is important, John.

Here’s how the episodes aired; NOTE: the bold episodes didn’t air on Fox Kids, but I believe they did air on Teletoon during the show’s original run. But don’t take my word for it:

Sunday Night @ 11:00PM:

October 6th: The Indigestible Wad October 13th: The Infernal Wedding October 20th: Flathead's Revenge October 27th: Frictor

Monday Morning @ 12:00AM:

November 4th: Rip's Shorts November 11th: Stinky Butt November 18th: The Ovulator November 25th: ManMan and BoyBoy

Sunday Night @ 10:30PM:

December 1st: The Muscle Magician December 8th: The Man from Next Thursday, Part One December 15th: Jimmy's Kidnapped December 22nd: The Ripping Friends Meet Dr. Jean Poole December 29th: The Man from Next Thursday, Part Two

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #ripping friends

3 notes · View notes

the-last-cuddlebender · 5 years ago

Text

Bigger Than the Bad Guys

“Bumi, I am very disappointed in you.” “I know…” “You could have been killed. You deliberately disobeyed me. And what’s worse, you put Kya in danger.”

...Even Auntie Toph had told them to stay away from the bad-place in the city. And Auntie Toph never told them not to do something. Bumi just wanted to be brave like Daddy and make his Mama smile again…

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

A/N: This is exactly what you think it is because f*ck me if DadMufasa!Aang and ToddlerSimba!Bumi in post-atla/pre-tlok are not so wholesome that I damn well might perish.

(very lightly edited because I was in a mood but mehhhh)

Rating: G (W for wholesome)

Words: 4,572

ArchiveOfOurOwn

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

Kya was having second thoughts, and Bumi would be lying if he said he wasn’t, too.

They’d been walking for forever in the almost pitch-black. It was really stinky, too, even by his standards, and the heavy air pressed against him like it was squishing him smaller and smaller as the tunnel got bigger and deeper. The damp stuck to his skin in a greasy film.

He couldn’t count how long they’d been walking—he couldn’t count a lot at all since he didn’t know all his numbers—but it was long enough to make him hungry.

It was also long enough for Daddy’s concerned face and Mama’s teary shouts to become clearer and clearer in his memory. The mind-picture made his chest itch like something was stuck there, and he kept swallowing and itching it like he might be able to dig it out.

It didn’t work. But for Kya, he pretended it did. He tried to walk like Daddy.

He wasn’t second-guessing their mission, of course. That was the utmost priority. Mama and Daddy had been worrying over the bad guys from ‘the underground’ for so, so long…

It made Bumi almost as frustrated as it made him sad.

He didn’t understand for the life of him why their parents didn’t go to ‘the underground’ with Auntie Toph and Uncle Sokka to beat the bad guys up and get it over with.

They were the bravest heroes ever.

And it wasn’t like ‘the underground’ was hard to find.

It was underground.

Duh.

Granted, he and Kya had to go through the old bad-place that Daddy had been helping Auntie Toph ‘clear out’.

Mama had told him—before his and Kya’s planning phase—that they weren't allowed to follow Daddy to his Avatar-work near that place.

Bumi didn’t understand why she was so serious.

Her or Daddy.

Especially Daddy.

The even worse part was that their father had smiled while he made them promise not to go to the bad-place. Then he had taken them for ice-cream, and Mama let them jump in the deep end of the oasis to practice their swimming.

Then Daddy paced throughout the night, and Bumi heard through his door (if he pressed his ear so hard it hurt) that Mama stayed up with him and talked with him in the gentle way she did when he or Kya had nightmares.

It made Bumi’s heart hurt in the ache-y way his lungs did when Kya dunked him in the water for too long and got in trouble for it.

He didn’t want Daddy and Mama to hide frowns with fake smiles anymore.

They were being brave, though. They always were.

‘The underground’ was a really, really big bad, after all.

But Bumi and Kya could be brave, too.

And their mission would help their parents way more than the extra hugs and kisses they’ve been giving them.

Maybe, after he and Kya return as brave heroes, Daddy and Mama will sleep instead of fidget and whisper when he and Kya curl in bed with them.

Bumi sighed. Kya held his arm a bit tighter. His sister didn’t care what people thought; if she was scared, she showed it.

Bumi wouldn’t admit that he was, though. Mama and Daddy wouldn’t. Especially not to Kya. Especially especially when his Sissy held his arm with both hands as their torch burned to its wick. He was teetering on a razor’s edge between thrill and terror, and he made himself smile at her even when his stomach felt all float-y.

Because even Auntie Toph had told them to stay away from the bad-place. And Auntie Toph never told them not to do something.

But Bumi could be brave like her, too. And Uncle Sokka.

He will be.

He and Kya were brave just like Daddy and Mama.

Plus, Bumi had his new knife that Uncle Zuko gave him for his birthday, so he was prepared for anything.

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

Bumi lost his knife and their torch as soon as he saw the first bad guy. His hands shook so much—the bad guy was so big—that he dropped them.

Kya could at least waterbend. He saw her (try to) push and pull the water with Mama the last time they swam in the deep end of the oasis.

If there was any water down here, then maybe she could have made them slip.

They ran. They hit a dead end. Bumi’s limbs were long enough. He could climb up into the next tunnel.

His sister’s weren’t. Kya’s whimpered panting—her lungs weren’t as big as his, either—broke free her first sob as she clawed the wall and kept slipping down.

She looked at him like Mama had when she watched him fall off the roof without knowing until she raced to the bottom that Daddy was there to catch him.

It made his insides turn to slush, and Kya’s small cry put daggers in his lungs.

His Sissy was terrified.

Bumi was almost just as scared, but he jumped back to the enemy-laden ground and glared like he was about to beat their butts all at once, just like Mama did in the stories Auntie Toph told them when their parents weren’t watching.

His Sissy’s tight grip on the bottom of his shirt—she had only ever held on to Daddy’s robes, and only if she was really, really scared—gave Bumi the strength to hold on to the last string holding his shaking limbs together.

His sister was smaller than him. He would not leave her, and he would not let the bad guys hurt her.

No matter how big the fourth bad guy was.

Or the eighth.

Or the twelfth.

Kya’s back hit the wall before Bumi’s did, and she slid to the ground. Bumi stood in front of her. The bad guys painted the wall with the inky cloaks of their shadows. Bumi was a broken leaf between his sister and a pack of devils who jeered new no-no words that, even though he didn’t know what they meant, by the way they said them to his Sissy gave him the feeling that even Auntie Toph wouldn’t use them.

The bad guys stepped closer. Bumi tried to stand like Daddy did a year ago when the other bad man and broke a hole through Kya’s wall and hurt Mama.

Daddy had stood over all of them in the middle of a storm of stone and fire and arrows and didn’t move an inch. He broke apart boulder after fireball like they were nothing as they waited for Auntie Toph and Uncle Sokka to get there.

Bumi’s legs shook, and he sucked in a breath and held it like maybe the air would keep him afloat and on his feet when his legs gave out.

Auntie Toph and Uncle Sokka weren’t coming this time.

Or Daddy and Mama.

Bumi and Kya were alone.

Bumi’s heart raced so fast that it felt like it was vibrating more than it was beating. He stopped breathing a while ago. His lungs were shriveling up and hiding in his throat like they were even scared-er than his Sissy.

Kya was crying on her knees behind him. She was shaking, too—he felt it from where she grasped his calf.

One of the bad guys had grabbed her arm the first time they cornered them. Bumi had bitten him and ran as far as he could while he dragged Kya behind him.

Now the bad guy was earthbending a boulder the size of Bumi six-times-over, and they all glared at him and his Sissy with smiles that were hungry to kill them.

They were big. So, so much bigger than him. Bumi barely reached his head to their mid-thigh on his tip-toes.

He was small.

Too small.

Bumi wanted to cry. His eyes did, too. They were hot and sting-y, and tears made his picture of the bad guys all blurry.

He couldn’t cry. He made a vow with Uncle Sokka not to cry unless he deserved it.

Kya was crying because she was hurt.

He had gotten them into this mess. He had no right to free himself of the sea-prune-sized sob choking him.

Bumi bared his teeth. His voice broke, but he didn’t let his tears fall.

“S-Stay away! I-I—‘M w-wa’rn’ yous!”

Kya held onto him tighter like she was deluded by his voice into some feeling of reassurance.

“Or what? You gonna throw dirt at us?”

“Daddy’s not here to save you, brat.”

Bumi swallowed. He would have been sick if he had eaten lunch.

One of the bad guys had his knife. He reached to grab one of them, and Bumi used the last of his strength to move in front of him and puff out his chest.

He still didn’t cry.

The wall adjacent exploded in a shower of earth.

The howling boom and hiss of all elements clashing were terrifying enough to bring more tears to Bumi’s eyes yet familiar enough to keep him from crying.

Bumi threw himself over his little sister. Kya held him so tight it hurt. Dirt and rocks hit his back, and heat threatened to blister his skin even through his clothes. His Sissy screamed, and it sounded like she was calling for Mama.

He held Kya tight. He closed his eyes even tighter.

He didn’t open them even when Daddy, out of breath and smelling of ash and earth, slid to his knees before them and herded his whimpering, shivering children into the protective circle of his arms with soft coos and gentle assurances.

Bumi knew it was him; he heard the smile in his voice.

Daddy’s shadow swallowed them both like a too-big cloak. He patted them down from head to toe, muttering to himself between kisses to their faces and dozens of jumbled concerns before relaxing, a mountain leaving his shoulders as he sagged over them. He smiled like he might cry—Bumi felt it from where Daddy pressed his trembling lips against his cheek.

Daddy rubbed their backs and kissed their foreheads as he gently, but urgently, pressed between their shoulders to encourage them to his chest. Bumi and Kya were too filled with panicked goo to move on their own, otherwise.

Daddy crouched closer, as unmoving and safe as an iron shield but inviting like his smile would blind anyone who would do them harm. He curled deeper on his knees and bent around so he had to look up at them. He made himself small, like them, and he was smiling that smile that drove instinct to herd themselves into his arms.

Bumi still hadn’t opened his eyes, though. He heard the smile in Daddy’s voice. It was safe.

Bumi clutched his father’s robes, and he breathed again. Daddy was safe. His scent and his voice and his touch wrapped them in a bubble that unwound their grip on each other and massaged away the primal fear that had them flinching wherever he had first touched them. Now they leaned into him like they were trapped in a frozen shell and his hands were torches. Even the air around Daddy bled comfort into them; it was as potent as the sleepy-shots Mama used to help people feel better.

Bumi and Kya latched onto him like they were built to be there, and Daddy cradled them like he was made to hold them.

Bumi melted against his chest like he was sinking into warm water. Daddy’s arms were stronger than the ones that had hurt his Sissy.

Daddy was bigger than the bad guys.

He was stronger and braver, too.

He was their hero.

Bumi fisted Daddy’s robes so tightly that his hands shook and his fingers tingle. Beside him, Kya shook even harder and hiccuped little sounds that made his chest hurt and his arms itch to hug her.

Bumi still hadn’t opened his eyes. He didn’t want to open them and be in front of the bad guys again. He didn’t want to open them and suddenly be out of Daddy’s arms.

He held his father tight. Daddy held him even tighter.

Bumi didn’t open his eyes even when he smelled fresh air and heard the sounds of outside again. He tasted metal, sharp and cold, before he heard Auntie Toph. She was yelling so many no-no words that it made him cringe, and metal clanked as dozens of police-people ran by and around them.

Uncle Sokka yelled his relief and then an alert, and Mama’s voice was far away and then in his ear before Bumi took his next breath.

Her warmth hit his back and wrapped around him in a force heavier and tighter than an iron net. Mama hugged Daddy and pressed Bumi and Kya between them so snugly that all Bumi knew in that moment was his Mama, his Daddy, his Sissy, and the warm-fuzzy feeling that bubbled under his skin and felt like home.

He and Sissy grabbed tight handfuls of her dress. Mama grabbed them even tighter.

Her soft coos and million kisses lassoed his heart and broke it tame. Daddy rubbed his back and scratched his beard on his neck as he kissed his hair, Mama’s face, and Kya’s hair over and over again.

Daddy was big enough to hug them all. His voice was soft, even for him. It wound around Bumi like a warm breeze on a cold day.

Bumi kept his eyes closed. He tried to focus on Mama’s heartbeat. It was fast and light like Momo’s. Her face was wet when it pressed to his, and he tasted salt when he kissed her cheek on instinct.

Mama’s arms were comforting. Daddy’s arms were safe. Bumi wanted to have both of them again, like when Mama first appeared.

Kya whimpered. He got his wish.

He wished he hadn’t.

His Sissy was hurt.

Daddy’s arms were shaking when they held him again. His lap was warm as they rode Appa home.

Bumi’s eyes were still closed.

He only opened them when he tripped.

Mama tried to help him up, but Daddy lifted him to his feet before she could.

Bumi looked up and wished he hadn’t.

Mama was sad.

She looked hurt.

Sissy was in her arms—she looked a bit better, but she held her arm close to her chest and bit the inside of her cheek.

She was hurt, too.

Daddy’s hand was on his back and between his shoulders when Bumi could hear again.

“Katara, take Kya home.”

Bumi flinched. He’d never heard Daddy talk like that. His voice was hard and flat and forced like a piece of measured timber sawed out of the corpse of an ancient tree.

“Aang, sweetie, maybe right now isn’t—”

“Katara.” The hand on his back urged his shoulders to turn away from Mama. “Please. Take Kya home.” His voice lowered to something even more foreign. “I need to teach our son a lesson.”

His tone struck Bumi like a whip. Mama didn’t say anything. It was quiet for a while. Bumi wished he could see her, but he couldn’t think enough to even move his eyes off of the grass and setting sun that framed the ocean opposite the city.

The soft crunches as Mama walked away made the silence even heavier. The hand on his back didn’t move until she was far beyond the courtyard.

Bumi wished it wasn’t so quiet. His Daddy stood behind him, and the awareness of where he stood increased gravity ten-fold.

His father ground his teeth so hard that Bumi heard it, and he exhaled a breath that burned the air and poured smoke over the back of Bumi’s tongue.

The hand left his back. Daddy walked ahead of him. His shoulders were raised like a bristling tigerdillo, and waves of heat leaking from him and rolled over and into Bumi like thick licks of lava.

Daddy clenched his jaw and didn’t look at him.

The Avatar was mad.

“Bumi.”

His spoken name wound around him and tugged him along like a leash. The sky was pinker now, bordering on purple. Daddy’s face was bordering on red.

Bumi swallowed, but his throat wouldn’t move. The wind whipped around them and bent the tall grasses in an amber-green wave. It was cold. He hugged himself, wishing for his parents’ arms again.

The wind blew harder as they neared the cliff. Bumi slowed down. He had to lean into the wind. He had to fight it.

Daddy was unmovable even when a violent gust hit them. He didn’t even break his stride. Bumi had to crouch to keep from being blown over.

He looked up. Daddy was so much bigger than he was.

Bumi’s chest rang hollow, and something cold blossomed from his stomach and crawled into his chest like creeping fingers of ice. It curled around his heart in an unforgiving fist.

His limbs ached, filled with frozen webs. Even his breath came out cold from his closing airway.

His Daddy was a hero.

Bumi couldn’t protect his own Sissy.

“Bumi.”

Bumi flinched. He hugged himself tighter and walked towards his father, who was sitting facing the ocean with his arms and legs crossed.

Bumi swallowed. His throat burned. He crept around Daddy, passing through his shadow, to curl up beside him. The few inches between them yawned like a few oceans.

He hugged his knees and tried to think he was bigger than he was, but he had to tilt his head all the way vertical to see his father.

Daddy was tense like a loaded bow and drawn to his full sitting-height like he was ready to jump up into a fight. His arms were still crossed, but his face wasn’t bordering on red anymore. The sky had settled on a navy velvet, and Daddy’s eyes looked up instead of at him.

But then he looked down.

And Bumi wished he hadn’t.

He wished his father would have kept looking at the sky.

He wished his father would have stayed angry at him.

Because the laughter and warmth in Daddy’s eyes were muted by something sad and caged behind something upset. A frown had moved in where his smile should be—where it always was.

The hot coal in Bumi’s throat made his eyes wet, and it threatened to sear a hole in his neck.

“Bumi, I am very disappointed in you.”

His words were arrows, and Bumi hugged his legs so hard that the bony bits of his knees hurt his chest.

“I know…”

“You could have been killed.” Daddy got louder, and his words bellied something like he was choking on a hot coal, too. “You deliberately disobeyed me. And what’s worse, you put Kya in danger.”

Bumi’s tummy flipped. The night had swallowed up the day, and his father’s shadow blended into the inky night that covered Bumi and all that he saw and knew.

“I—I-I wa’...w-wa’ ju’t—” Bumi’s lip trembled, and he wiped his eyes in hurried swipes, rushing to speak his defense before Daddy yelled at him.

Daddy had never yelled before.

But Daddy had never been this angry before.

Bumi wanted to wake up already so he could sneak into Mama’s bed and fall asleep in his parents’ arms.

The Daddy beside him curled over, just a bit, making himself smaller. He waited for Bumi to catch his breath and his words; though the searing heat of his stare burned his head, his shoulders, and everywhere else he looked.

Bumi’s voice was little more than a gasp, a leak of air from a broken pipe.

“I-I was just trying to be brave like you.”

Daddy uncrossed his arms. He looked down at him in every sense and meaning of the words. He was so much bigger than Bumi. His eyes looked down at him as distant and as powerful as the stars beyond him.

“I’m only brave when I have to be. Bumi...” Daddy sighed, and he suddenly looked like he had been beaten to within an inch of his life and slapped into manacles heavier than mountains. Bumi looked away. Daddy’s eyes were still upset and sad, and the gentle bass that leaked into his voice—the deep sound that cooed him after bad dreams and whispered their inside jokes behind Mama’s back—as he said his name nearly made Bumi break his warrior-vow to Uncle Sokka to never to cry unless he deserved to. “...Bumi, being brave doesn’t mean you go looking for trouble.”

Bumi looked up and couldn’t look away. Daddy’s eyes had locked onto his own and held him like a too-tight hug.

Bumi couldn’t curl up anymore, either. His knees were bruising his chest.

He wished so badly to crawl into his father’s arms.

“B-But you’re not scared of anything.”

Daddy hesitated. Bumi didn’t notice that the wind had long since died until his father’s voice became quiet. It was hardly above a whisper.

“...I was today.”

Bumi hesitated, too. He looked at his father, who had curled over a bit more and made himself a bit smaller. Their eyes were almost on the same level. The tension in Daddy’s shoulders unwound into an almost relaxed position, and Bumi would have thought they were just sitting there and talking like they always did if not for the lack of smile on Daddy’s face.

“You...You were?”

Bumi’s voice cracked, and the small break of his words shattered the cage holding Daddy’s eyes prisoner. They were clear grey and rippled with a thousand unspoken words.

Bumi almost cried for him.

“Yes.” His father bent down some more. The hand Bumi hadn’t realized had been wrapping behind him gently curled around his shoulders. His father kissed his hair. He held there for a few seconds while he rubbed his arm.

Bumi unwound and leaned into the touch on instinct; his father lifted him into his lap. He was small, but Daddy was big, and Bumi grinned and hugged his father’s light-y-blue-arrowed arms as they pulled him close to his chest. Daddy curled over him like he was trying to mold himself into armor around him.

His warm voice was soft and small, like Bumi, and rumbled like smooth stones against Bumi’s back when he spoke. “...I thought I might lose you.”

“Oh…I’m...’M sorry, Daddy...”

Bumi dared to glance at his father. Sunshine curled across Daddy’s face in a small grin that called Bumi’s lopsided one out to greet it. His Daddy smiled wider. Grey eyes softened to a wordless ‘I love you’. He touched his brow to his and held him even tighter.

Bumi’s squirmed like he was tickled. He fiddled with one of his father’s hands like it was taking the place of his habit of twisting his shirt. Their grins fed off of each other until they were both smiling stupidly. A giggle bubbled into Bumi’s next breath and shyly bled into his words. “I guess even Daddys get scared, huh?”

“Mhm.”

Bumi sank dramatically into his father’s robes and hugged tighter the arms that were curled around him like shields. “But ya know what?” he whispered, glancing about like he was hiding behind enemy lines.

Daddy looked around just as dramatically, matching Bumi’s theatrics step-for-step like he always did. (No one else ever did, and no one else ever could.) “What?” he whispered back.

“I bet those bad guys were even scared-er.”

His father laughed, and color came back to Bumi’s world. The night felt less like a shadow and more like a blanket, especially when Daddy pulled him closer and smiled like playing with Bumi would be the only thing that would ever matter.

“That’s because nobody messes with your dad.” He laughed evilly. “C’mere, you.”

Daddy roughed his already roughed hair, but Bumi wiggled away. They were both on their feet, and the chase was on. His father’s laughter was loud and airy like happy thunder, and Bumi’s choppy giggles raced after him like sheets of rain.

The cold night became so bright with his Daddy’s smile and so warm with his father’s hugs that Bumi thought he might cry without breaking his warrior-vow to Uncle Sokka.

“Gotcha!”

And even though his Daddy was bigger—much bigger—Bumi somehow managed to catch him. He rolled him over with his little arms and sat on his shoulders like a lionbear over its kill.

They laughed some more. They laughed until it hurt to breathe, and they kept laughing until it ached to move their faces into anything but a smile.

Bumi hugged his father’s neck and smiled like accidents could never happen. He forgot why he was ever upset. There was no reason to be upset—to ever be upset.

He had his Daddy.

Bumi was small, but his Daddy was big.

And when Daddy was with him, Bumi didn’t feel small.

He felt big.

He felt bigger than the bad guys.

And besides, he had won! He had captured the Avatar and winded an airbender!

He couldn’t wait to tell Mama and Kya and everyone else this story.

“Hey, Daddy?”

Daddy caught his breath, and Bumi could hear his smile. “Mhm?”

Bumi plopped his head on his father’s and hugged around his chin. His beard scratched his hands in a familiar way. “We’re pals, right?”

Gentle thunder rumbled beneath him. “Right.”

“And we’ll always be together, right?”

His father hesitated again.

Daddy pushed up on his arms, making Bumi slide down his back. A gentle hand reached around and found the scruff of his coat, and Bumi, all-to-familiar with this maneuver of theirs, climbed around his father’s torso while Daddy sat cross-legged again. He curled his arms around his neck and tried to wind his legs around him even though they were too short to reach across his chest, let alone meet up behind his back. He was too small.

But Daddy held him close and held him up, all with one arm. His free hand rubbed his back with a few swirling scratches before hugging him close.

Bumi hugged him even closer. He pressed his face into his father’s neck and smiled into the robes that smelled like home and felt safer than a steel wall. Bumi heard his heart just like he’d heard Mama’s heartbeat earlier. Daddy’s was slower and harder, though. Like Appa’s.

“Bumi, let me tell you something that Gya—that my father once told me.” He nudged his head up. They both looked up at the sky. “Look at the stars. The bravest heroes of the past—like Mama’s mama and Uncle Zuko’s uncle—look down on us from those stars.”

“Really?” Bumi shifted his weight and held on tighter.

“Yes.”

Bumi looked at the shiny brave people. He liked the stars before. They were pretty.

Now he loved them. They were safe.

And they were always there.

They would always be there.

...But they were also so far away.

“So whenever you feel alone, just remember that those brave heroes will always be there to guide you…” Daddy held him tighter and gently rocked them.

Bumi’s eyes drooped. Daddy’s breaths were slow and strong and lifted him against his chest like the beats of large wings.

He smiled through his yawn.

Something sad moved into where the smile in Aang’s voice should be.

He kissed his son’s hair again.

“...and so will I.”

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

Hope you enjoyed!:D

~~~~~EL FIN~~~~~

19 notes · View notes

gerrydelano · 5 years ago

Note

What are your opinions/hcs on Jon's personal grooming habits and wardrobe? I've seen people say he dresses well but always has greasy hair, I've seen others say his clothes are shabby but he showers and brushes his teeth every day because he likes to feel clean, etc.

i can see either of those examples because there’s a line drawn, y’know? i just get really unhappy when i see the Smelly Stinky Gremlin Man headcanons taken way too far for him, and i don’t want to spend a lot of time explaining why because i think most of us are already on the same page there.

he’s tired and disabled, not lacking in all areas of personal hygiene? i personally do think he’s pretty fastidious about it, yeah. i think he’d have a really hard time with feeling Dirty especially after prentiss and the buried, like? that Feeling is Awful to most people who DON’T go through the shit he’s been through and even without them i do genuinely feel like he’d have been pretty good at keeping himself fuckin Clean. hell, after those incidents i wouldn’t find it hard to believe if he went overboard sometimes because of the Phantom Yuck feeling, too, and would need to cope with that/dial back down to healthier behaviors. from the start he definitely always cared about how he presented himself and i don’t think those inclinations die so much as get more difficult to maintain depending on circumstance and certain challenges, which he Does face.

clothing wise i think he’d try to dress well overall (namely before Shit Went Down, Yeah) but have some difficulty maintaining it after he loses such a big chunk of his hand function post-jude perry. like, buttons are way harder but that doesn’t mean he just Completely Stops Trying y’know like there are alternative methods. nice excuse to wear more dresses, even, which i also like to hc he’s got a bit of anxiety about but overall it makes him feel a lot better, so it’d be nice to see him embracing something that soothes and fortifies him in the face of being in a bad place because of something else. even if he’s wearing casual clothes that are more on the sleepy side (which i also see him doing, for sure) i really just refuse to accept Stinky Garbage Man in any capacity for, again, a lot of reasons. there are a lot of really helpful tools and tricks that can be used when you lack the spoons for certain types of upkeep and i like to think he’d care enough about it to actually look into those methods and apply them?

plus, if he’s got virtually No control over so many things in his life, over his own body in a loudly existential way, the least he can do for himself is utilize this kind of everyday body-focused control to just feel like he has himself together, feel a little better, focus on something, maintain a routine. mr autism over here Definitely had a routine and i think sticking to it is a coping mechanism he’d hold onto as best he can in the absence of so many other forms of consistency and agency. also he’s grown ass, y’know, like. he takes care of himself in this way.

EDIT: this anon brought up a good point that i THOUGHT i included here, but i definitely misremembered how clear i was in this response here. OBVIOUSLY if someone is approaching a portrayal of jon through the lens of “his neurodivergencies make keeping up with hygiene hard sometimes” and are like, reasonable + respectful + most likely venting, that’s? nowhere NEAR the same thing as someone just being Gross like, i still just stand firmly on “draw a line somewhere” and that’s about it.

#jon #hc #this is just my feeling but i really am deeply uncomf with the whole Smelly Feral Animal Man thing #just. draw a line pls #anon #asks

97 notes · View notes

skekheck · 5 years ago

Text

30 Days of the Dark Crystal Challenge

Decided to do poultry-blocks Dark Crystal challenge because it looks like a lot of fun to do. However I’m cheating and I wrote all of this within a couple of days. Warning: fairly large post with pictures and fan ramblings.

EDIT: I FORGOT TO INCLUDE DAY 16 WHOOP. It’s in there now.

Day 1. Your favorite skeksis

Idiot, feral, wildman who stole my heart. How? Why? Who knows. *chef kisses* Beautiful stinky bastard.

Day 2: Your favorite gelfling

Bless her and her skeksis cosplay. What a queen.

Day 3: A character that you love that everyone seems to hate.

The tides are changing for her it seems. I think people are appreciating her more, but she still faces her fair share of controversies. Not that I don’t think it warrants discussion nor am I excusing her actions. But she’s way more complex than what a lot of people are making her out to be.

Day 4: A character that you hate that everyone seems to love.

Hate is a strong word as I don’t hate him, but I don’t really care for Amri. He feels like a bootleg Deet mixed with a little bit of Kylan and Gurjin. Wasted potential and honestly shouldn’t have been the POV for Tides of the Dark Crystal. Seems I’m alone in this opinion, though. Maybe the book warrants rereading?

Day 5: Movie or TV Show? Why?

TV Show by miles! I think the series accomplishes way more than the movie does, like establishing lore, better written characters, and a more engaging story. I actually cared about the gelfling and it really fleshed out the skeksis in an interesting way outside of “oh they do evil things because they’re evil!”. Doesn’t mean it does everything right, but I’ll get into that later.

Day 6: Something you wish that happened in the series but didn’t.

Just a few things. I miss the gelfling intermingling with the mystics, particularly urVa. I love everything that happens with urGoh and skekGra, but some of the bonding moments Naia had with urVa are precious and I wish we had more of that. I also wished the gelfling got the message out to the other clans like they did in the book where Kylan dreametched their message onto the Santuary Tree’s blossoms and scattered them all throughout Thra. I also wished Tavra and Onica were an established couple, but maybe it’s not too late for that.

Day 7: Favorite gelfling clan

The Sifa! It was the Dousan at first, but the more I learned about the Sifa the more I grew to love the clan. If I were a gelfling I would probably be a sifa myself LOL.

Day 8: You opinion on Aughra

She’s a fun and fascinating character! Aughra puts a unique spin on the whole beautiful, wise earth goddess trope by making her ugly, old, and cranky. She’s also a character with her own flaws, even having a mini arc about neglecting to take care of her planet and doing whatever she can to make amends. Not to mention she’s wildly entertaining. Much love for Aughra!

Day 9: Skeksis or Gelfling?

Both!

Day 10: Your opinion on podlings?

They’re just funky little potato people who just want to have fun, dance, and drink all day and I respect them for that. They’re great. Also Hup exists and he’s just an amazing character so there’s that.

Day 11: Your The Dark Crystal unpopular opinion

I think it’s okay to sympathize with the skeksis as long as one is not excusing their actions. I see a lot of people say you shouldn’t because they’re evil and they commit atrocities. Which, yes, it’s true, but I think both can co-exist. I mean, skekTek’s whole cycle of abuse is written very sympathetically yet the show doesn’t coddle him. It shows the ugliness of his character and what happens when someone isn’t capable of cutting off from said cycle. Also the writers consider the skeksis as tragic characters due to their broken nature so I don’t think it’s wrong to be a little sympathetic. But once again with great emphasis, sympathy is fine as long as their actions are judged. They are awful bastards and no amount of sympathy will change that.

Day 12: Something you dislike about the series

I think the stuff I don’t like about the show is a result of its pacing and cluttered cast. There are so many stories going on and while I liked how they handled it for the most part, you can also see how the show rushes to get through all of them. A lot of important moments where a character should reflect or something that should simmer more is pushed aside for the next thing. Maybe if the show was given more episodes and time to breath it would have been better off.

Day 13: Most disappointing thing about the series

SkekMal and urVa didn’t have enough screen time and we were honestly ROBBED.

Day 14: Your OTP

Speaking of which... . Its a crack ship, but I’m all about that allegory for self love (and I just want these two to be alive). Day 15: Favorite quote

Listed plenty of my favorite quotes before, but I’ll pick this one:

“ Life is my paint. Death is my canvas”

Day 16: Rate the skeksis from least favorite to favorite OR rate the gelfling from lest favorite to favorite [or both!]

And if you want my gelfling hot takes, here’s this list (just backwards in context to this post)

Day 17: Opinion on Raunip?

Raunip is a fantastic character. I loved him in Creation Myths and I can’t wait to see what role he’d play in the resistance. And I absolutely love the parallels between him and the urskeks it’s great.

Day 18: A character that is most similar to you.

I too am a dark-dwelling gremlin who constantly forgets where I put things and crack a few dark jokes at my expense.

Day 19: Which character do you strongly dislike, why?

This is entirely based on the books, but I find Mera to be awful. I think it’s because she’s so fake and condescending? When Naia arrived in Sami Thicket, she was acting nice and polite but when the Drenchen asked her why the skeksis never visited Sog Mera responded “It’s only worth counting what’s valuable”. She continuously disrespects her by calling her pet names even when Naia became maudra. It doesn’t come off as cute, it’s gross. I don’t recall Mera ever apologizing for any of the shit she did to Naia... or Kylan for that matter. She was a pretty neglectful step-mother to him. She doesn’t have an excuse being busy with Maudra stuff because Laesid was a kickass mom to her kids. So in conclusion, fuck this bitch.

Day 20: What do you like so much about the Dark Crystal?

The better question what’s not to love about the Dark Crystal? It has amazing creature design, an expansive world that feels real and alien from our own, having complex and interesting characters as well as villains, the fact that it relies heavily on practical effects a.k.a puppetry... . There’s nothing like it and that’s what makes it so wonderful and unique. It needs to be appreciated more.

Day 21: Favorite music piece from the soundtrack?

Can’t beat that opening theme.

Day 22: Your opinion on the sequel comics [Power/Beneath the Dark Crystal]

They have cool concepts and ideas, but they’re not written well. Power is just the movie if it was put into a blender and shredded and ignoring a large portion of established lore for the sake of plot. And Beneath is just a generic fantasy story with the Dark Crystal logo slapped on it.

Day 23: Which character from the YA novels/comics do you wish we would see more of?

There are plenty of characters that are a given to appear in the series at some point (skekSa, skekLi, urSan, etc). And of course I want to see them, but I really hope Periss shows up (and his brother too). He is one of my favorite characters from the book series and we could use some more Dousan rep!

Day 24: Your opinion on the Age of Resistance comic?

I have yet to read the comics. I’m waiting on them to be part of a collection so I don’t have to buy all of the volumes at once (I prefer owning physical copies). I’ve heard good things about them, especially the story with Hup and the current Mayrin arc. I’m excited to get my hands on them.

Day 25: The best moment/scene in the series?

There are a lot of great moments, but Rian and Ordon’s fight with skekMal is still my favorite in the entire series. The "Speak For the Dead” scene is a close second.

Day 26: The death of a character that hurt you the most?

He did not deserve this. Fuck you, skekMal.

Day 27: Your favorite episode from the series?

It’s got to be 4. Not just because a number of my favorite characters debut in this episode, but it’s an important one for the plot. Stakes are being raised, we’re seeing set ups to major story elements and character arcs, and events that impact the rest of the series. It also has a handful of my favorite character moments and interactions.

Day 28: Your favorite non-skeksis and non-gelfling character? Why?

I’ve come to realize the reasons why I love urVa are the same as why I love skekMal (incredibly appropriate I might say). There’s enough information about him that we get a good understanding on who he is as a character, but still mysterious enough that there’s interest in wanting to know more. Much like his skeksis, he’s unique from the other mystics and thus giving him unique experiences that are fun to speculate. However, the YA novels are responsible for my current fondness of him.

Day 29: Do you like the urru and skeksis apart or like them as urSkeks together?

A main theme of the Dark Crystal is unity and balance. The main conflict of the franchise are the skeksis, the broken fragments of their urskek self who, according to the writers, “...[have] a dire need for the qualities they lack”. Their only salvation is to become urskeks again and unfortunately many of the pairs never achieve this. They’re basically a giant allegory for the self and self-love. While we don’t really know what they were like when they were an urskek (aside from SilSol perhaps), we can get some understanding when we look at their pairs and see what traits they share. Speculation is also fun! So as much as I love the skeksis and mystics as individuals, I prefer them to be whole again.

Day 30: What are your wishes for a possible season 2?

A whole bunch of things. I want to see them explore more about the mystics and their lifestyle, having Raunip play a big part in the plot, seeing more of skekSa’s fall from grace from her perspective, the beginning of the Garthim Wars, and more.

#the dark crystal #my posts #long post

17 notes · View notes

dreamsarelikedragonflies · 5 years ago

Text

Which of your fics...

(eeeeeee!) I was tagged by @nikibogwater for this one, and I’m super grateful for that, because boy oh boy do I have things to say. Without further ado...

...did you think would get a bigger reaction/audience than it got:

Well, I have to say I thought Uneven Days would be getting a lot of attention, seeing as, yknow, Douxie dying at the end of Wizards would have been one hell of a turn. But, the more I think about that one, the more I realize it’s really pretty dark and downright painful to read even for me, so I can understand why it wasn’t bigger. At the same time, I still regard it as one of my better heavy-angst pieces because of how I was able to make it concise but impactful.

...is your funniest:

Hmm! I think that I tend to keep a balance of humor, fluff, and angst in my writing (and personally, I think that’s what makes it so appealing to me to keep writing) but Witch Hazel was by far one of the more fluffy and just all around funnier ones. I mean, really, a stinky moppet!Douxie who is overjoyed to be running simple errands for his master, sassy Zoe who doesn’t know what to think of this tall, cute, albeit dorky guy, immediately followed up by a time skip to the future where Zoe is soft about sweet Douxie and the roles are sort of reversed. It’s just so stinking cute (pun fully intended.)

...is your darkest/angstiest:

Well, previously mentioned Uneven Days probably has to take the cake on that one, simply because of how dark it is. Originally, Fundamental Experiences was going to be a lot heavier. I had actually considered having him accidentally kill his father, and had touched on going more in-depth on the abuse suffered. But...I have an idea to incorporate a quite uncomfortable moment where he sees his father for the last time into that series somewhere...

...is your absolute favorite:

Why on Earth would you make me choose?!?!? Not to mention, my perception of good or not is heavily influenced by reactions and comments, lol. If I had to pin down ONE, I would maybe say that at the moment, chapter 8, “Did You Know” of Saudade is my favorite. In fact, that whole work is my baby. I really enjoyed making them hurt over the course of 25k words, and then of course, writing out my own pining and yearning into these characters I’ve grown to love so much, well, that was cathartic. I think it’s what finally pushed me over the edge of getting over a semi-recent breakup and a heartache for a crush that was never going to go anywhere(the crush in question once sang me all eight and a half minutes of American Pie by Don McLean at work and my obsession with McLean songs took off from there). I self-project an unhealthy amount, but it leaves my writing astonishingly real.

...is your least favorite:

Yeesh. Well, I wrote Not Just Happenstance for a “The Dragon Prince” AU thing in a contest-type of thing that was going for a while, and it just felt so rushed and cringey. And this work is what led me to realize I really don’t like writing heavily canon-divergent AUs where just about everything is changed. AUs in general are not my cup of tea, but recently I’ve found a few I really vibe with, but I’m only going to write ones with minor changes. I’m down with reading a few here and there, however.

...was the easiest to write:

Hmm. I think mostly because of it’s simplicity and short-and-sweet style, A Friendship of A Thousand Lifetimes. It was one of my earlier pieces posted, back when I thought I’d get away with uploading under 1k pieces to that series. It came pretty naturally to me, and it was actually a little inspired by HTTYD in the trap aspect.

...was the hardest to write:

There’s a couple of answers to this question. Emotionally speaking, Uneven Days killed me. I had to take crying breaks to write it. And when I finished it, I wasn’t even relieved, I just felt...numb. But logistically speaking, I’ve done wayyyyy too much research on dancing in the 12th century for one of my WIP Zouxie week fics, lol, for it to only be a super minor aspect. I did a lot of research on that one for acceptable words to use, what clothing would have looked like, and so on, and then I only used a tiny bit of that info in the work. I really struggled to pair it own, too, and it’s almost deserving of it’s own mini-series. If you want the sequel to it, you’ll have to comment requesting it when it goes up Nov. 2nd!

...has your favorite line/exchange/paragraph (share it):

I have a couple answers to this one. In regards to fluff:

“Well,” he starts, running a thumb down her cheek and to her jaw. “Twice in nine hundred years is nothing. I was thinking I’d like to make up for some lost time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” Zoe answers. She meets his lips with a grin.

I mean, that one is just so freaking flirty and adorable, it makes me feel all AHHHHH on the inside. If not for knowing it’s better unwritten (and that I just,,, I mean,, I would write a scene with them making out but I just don’t know if I should yknow. if you think I should, well, by all means leave a comment here and consider it done) I would have delved into that more lol. I am soft for that sort of super sappy flirting. Saudade, Chapter 8.

In terms of humor? I LOVED writing that email interaction/skype call into my Saudade chapters. I just thought it was so freaking funny and fun to write, not to mention there’s so many lines that are gold in there, I can’t just pick one.

But in regards to the angst and pain??

Archibald feels numb and senseless to even the warmth of the sun on his fur. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing does. Everything has been taken away from him. Archie feels like a celestial body that had orbited a star all it’s life, only to have it suddenly wrenched away from him. He’s now purposeless. Directionless. The gravity is gone and there is nothing to keep him securely in place.

This one is from Uneven Days again, and whoooo boy does it hurt. I think I managed to capture Archie’s own perception of himself in regards to Douxie. Without Doux, Archie doesn’t know who he is anymore. And that in itself is a powerful thing.

...have you re-read the most:

I’m not sure. Just for perspective, I reread my fics nearly every time someone comments so I can get a feeling for it again, lol. Though, I have only reread Uneven Days twice. Once to edit, and once after posting and that is all. But I think I’ve reread chap 8 of Saudade over two dozen times. I worked so hard to get that one just right. It wasn’t difficult, it was just that I seriously wanted it to be perfect.

...would you recommend to someone reading your work for the first time:

Start with Saudade! It will always be the best place to start, and actually, if you read along with my series updates, they weave together quite well. If you really wanted, you could read A Wizard’s Beginnings first simply because of the chronological order, but it’s not necessary.

...are you most proud of:

Saudade will always be my magnum opus of fics that I’ve written for ToA. It has everything in it and more. But really? A Sinking Memory is by far the best piece I’ve written for ToA. If you haven’t already, please go read this. There is so much I could go into detail about the ways I tied that whole work together. And in fact, I plan to make a post talking about that because so help me Powers that Be, I am not letting it go under-appreciated. (because holy shit the symbolism and raw fucking emotion in there is WILD)

Tagging(with no pressure, but I’d love to hear from you!): @alovesongshewrote, @constantconfusion14, @feather-dancer and @sammyheroes. Thanks so much for the tag again, much love!!!

9 notes · View notes

artemis-entreri · 6 years ago

Photo

[[ This post contains Part 2 of my review/analysis of the Forgotten Realms/Drizzt novel, Boundless, by R. A. Salvatore. As such, the entirety of this post’s content is OOC. ]]

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Generations: Book 2 | Legend of Drizzt #35 (#32 if not counting The Sellswords)

Publisher: Harper Collins (September 10, 2019)

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

Additional Information: Artwork for the cover of Boundless and used above is originally done by Aleks Melnik. This post CONTAINS SPOILERS. Furthermore, this discussion concerns topics that I am very passionate about, and as such, at times I do use strong language. Read and expand the cut at your own discretion.

Contents:

I. Introduction

II. Positives II.1 Pure Positives II.2 Muddled Positives

III. Mediocre Writing Style (you are here) III.1 Bad Descriptions III.2 Salvatorisms III.3 Laborious “Action”

IV. Poor Characterization IV.1 “Maestro” IV.2 Lieutenant IV.3 Barbarian IV.4 “Hero” IV.5 Mother

V. World Breaks V.1 Blinders Against the Greater World V.2 Befuddlement of Earth and Toril V.3 Self-Inconsistency V.4 Dungeon Amateur V.5 Utter Nonsense

VI. Ego Stroking VI.1 The Ineffable Companions of the Hall VI.2 Me, Myself, and I

VII. World Breaks VII.1 No Homo VII.2 Disrespect of Women VII.3 Social-normalization VII.4 Eugenics

VIII. What’s Next VIII.1 Drizzt Ascends to Godhood VIII.2 Profane Redemption VIII.3 Passing the Torch VIII.4 Don’t Notice Me Senpai

Mediocre Writing Style

I admire some authors for their lyrical phrases, some for their poignant imagery, some for their rapid-fire dialogues, and with so many others, for their ability to show a true mastery of language. I have never felt this way about Salvatore's literature, which will probably never win any awards for its diction if it remains consistent to its current level of quality. Salvatore has his moments, which I've described in the previous section, but sadly, they range from being vastly to overwhelmingly dwarfed by the rote and tedious writing practices he employs. It doesn't help that in addition to the employment of unimaginative diction, Salvatore writes a lot of long and laborious scenes full of words that serve little more than to fill up space. There is so much telling instead of showing, a problem further compounded by the exhausting amount of poorly-chosen anecdotes which he relates that, despite being a nonstop action book, Boundless is very hard to pick back up after putting it down. And, of course, there's the repetition of the same themes, of the same kind of things happening to the same characters, that certainly doesn't help the predictability.

Bad Descriptions

For every good turn of phrase I mentioned earlier, there exists a score of bad ones. If I were to give examples of all of them, with the other things I'd like to discuss, this article would end up being as long as the novel itself, so I'll simply point out the most cringe-worthy ones.

The metaphor that takes the cake for the worst of the book is, "The horde had come, and now it pounced upon them misshapen humanoid forms, the wretched lesser demons known as manes, shambling out of the brush like an army of humans risen from the dead." Basically, what is happening here is that Salvatore pretty much wrote, "those demons came shambling out like zombies". It doesn't matter how much one dresses up a turd, the most one gets from the effort is a fancier-looking but just as stinky piece of excrement. Furthermore, the dressings that Salvatore uses in this example are flimsy and unsatisfactory in substance, with the vague adjective "wretched" that's as descriptive here as his customary usages of "magnificent"/"fine" and the tedious repetition in "humanoid" and "human". Additionally, it begs the question of why Salvatore specified an army of humans in a world in which the undead of all races would shamble, or, better yet, why not simply say "zombie", for a zombie is a prevalent and known theme in both the Realms and our world. It would've been one of the few ways Salvatore uses a shared concept without incurring a world break like he normally does.

A close second in the diction mediocrity contest is, "as if Yvonnel's breath, blowing them out, was that of a magical dragon, one designed specifically against the life force of a demon." Why a "magical dragon"? Are there non-magical dragons that breathe magic? Not that there exists a type of dragon in Forgotten Realms lore with a breath weapon that is specifically designed against the life force of a demon. However, as is par for his course, to counteract lore not agreeing with his lazy constructions, Salvatore doesn't bother to research an appropriate in-universe analogy. He completely invents one but doesn't actually develop it, not that doing so would be appropriate in this context, but the creation of it is wholly unnecessary for the sake of a poor analogy.

Another awful passage is, "with horrid creatures -- half drow and half spider -- all around the drow women and filtering back through the many shadows of the forest. Scores of these horrid mutants milled about..." It's bad enough to use the adjective "horrid" in an empty and vague way, but to do it twice in quick succession makes it seem like Salvatore doesn't know how to describe driders. By itself, a half-drow half-spider creature isn't inherently abominable. There's an increasingly large number of art pieces featuring dark elf arachnid centaurs, with beautiful humanoid faces and torsos attached to streamlined spider bodies that would even give arachnaphobes pause. What makes driders menacing, which Salvatore has described himself in the past, is that they're not these romanticized images of spider centaurs. Their humanoid torsos, rather than looking like they should belong to supermodels, are bloated and misshapen such that they're more reminiscent of the flesh beasts of nightmares. They have vicious mandibles protruding from their cheeks, sometimes multiple insectoid eyes, making their faces look more decidedly non-elven even with pointed ears. Admittedly, the physical appearance of driders has fluctuated through the D&D editions, but it's as though Salvatore couldn't be bothered to look up what their current iteration is. Maybe he did try and couldn't find a definitive answer, in which case he could've approached the drider's description in a more evocative way, for example by describing how the tips of their arachnid legs were sharp like swords digging into the earth, or perhaps by mentioning their aura of menace as they regarded the dwarves whom they towered over with hungry anticipation, as though the shorter folk were their cocooned victims waiting to be devoured. Or, even referencing how the driders came to be, the excruciating transformation process and fall out of favor with their goddess, both of which would've rendered them at least slightly unhinged.

Some descriptions consist of fewer words, but are just as bad. For instance, Jarlaxle's bracers are at one point described as "magical wrist pouch". This evokes an imagery of literal pouches hanging from around his wrists, dangling like a pair of testicles in the wind, testicles that shoot out magical daggers into Jarlaxle's hands. Another similar example doesn't contain an analogy but is just as bad is, "a smallish man dressed in finery worthy of a noble house. His face was clean-shaven, his hair cut short and neatly trimmed." This description is so ambiguous and features adjectives that have been applied so frequently to other characters that it could have easily been Artemis Entreri, except it is someone quite different (Kimmuriel Oblodra). Putting aside how jarring it is to use "man" to describe male drow, there's a world break here in that drow shouldn't need to be clean-shaven, as they can't really grow facial hair, but at least there's the nice detail that Kimmuriel is apparently short-haired, contrary to what many assume of him to have long hair. Nonetheless, what happened to the usage of the word "short"? Furthermore, why not just state a height for Kimmuriel and put it into his character bible? To be fair, I've speculated that Salvatore doesn't use character bibles, but it's never too late to start.

Salvatorisms

Boundless sees a return of what I've dubbed “Salvatorisms”, which are clichés and poor sentence structures that Salvatore abuses frequently. In Boundless, there's more than just those Salvatorisms dragging the narrative down. It's disappointing to see a professional author, especially one who'd been working in the field for over three decades, fail to follow a rule taught to amateur writers. Making the New York Times' Bestsellers' list does not make the usage of clichés, such as "merry band of misfits", acceptable. Especially considering how it's not even appropriate in the context that it's used for, namely, describing Bregan D'aerthe. Even though it's a priestess of Lolth who is considering the mercenary band this way, it's so incredibly unlikely that she'd think they were jolly, which the meaning of that cliché specifically includes.

In Boundless, we also see a return of the “how [character] [action]ed!” sentence construction, after a refreshingly complete lack of any in Timeless. This is one of Salvatore's favorite ways to tell and not show, for stating how a certain thing performs a certain feat doesn't, ironically, actually ever convey how that thing is done. There's a new overused Salvatorism to add to his cliché stable, namely, the “up went”, “down went”, and other similar ways to open a sentence. There's nothing wrong with these kinds of phrases when used sparingly and with variety. As it is, the flavor of the text is quite intolerable, seasoned as it is with an excess of one type of additive. By the same token, in a fight scene between Arathis Hune and Zaknafein, Zaknafein's superior prowess is indicated by the sentence, "Except Zaknafein wasn't there". This sort of device can be effective to convey surprise and the unexpected, again, when used sparingly, but unfortunately, it is yet another one of Salvatore's favorite writing practices. The sentence is hardly even a proper sentence, but is used as its own paragraph.

The telling and not showing approach in Boundless extends beyond the diction. On numerous occasions, it's almost as if Salvatore couldn't be bothered to actually demonstrate how something is true, but instead, just tells us that it's the way it is. One way that he does this is through the usage of rhetorical questions, for instance, "Could anything be more invasive and traumatizing than having your body stolen from your control and turned against you?" I'm not sure if any of his readers can actually answer that question from personal experience. It's almost as though Salvatore did that purposely to minimize the possibility of someone realizing that different strokes exist for different folks and that the most traumatizing scenario for one person could be very different from that of another person. That aside however, a question like this leaves little room for imagination, and is even a bit bullying, for it corners the readers into having to answer "no" even while the scenario painted prior to it was not powerful enough to solidify that impression.

Another way that Salvatore tells rather than shows is to use empty comparisons that lack a frame of reference. For instance, the reader is to understand Athrogate's strength and resolve through, "A lesser fighter would have fallen away in terror. A less sturdy person would have simply melted before the reeking horror." The problem with these statements is that they don't serve any purpose. They state the obvious, and are a poor attempt at being evocative. They have the same effect as simply stating that Athrogate stood his ground and didn't falter, except being more verbose and less effective.

It's not just word usage that's repetitive. Boundless sees a continuation of the theme of having the same sort of things happen to the same characters. It's as though each character is a designated target for certain motifs, with those motifs not being applicable to other characters. For instance, Entreri appears to be the go-to target for torture, and after being made the one with the repeated childhood sexual assault, the sexual victimization in Menzoberranzan, the victim of rape by a succubus in Neverwinter and the over seven decades of enslavement, I'm getting very sick of seeing him the victim of yet another long-term grueling experience. Meanwhile, Drizzt is as holier-than-thou and full of sanctimony as he was in Timeless, and it's not a flattering look for him. I'm not sure if Salvatore thinks it is, but it isn't so much character consistency as stubborn obnoxiousness. In Drizzt's journal entry, he writes, "I fear that Zaknafein's transformation will not come in time to earn friendship, even familial love, from Catti-brie or from our child, and in that instance, it will not be in time to earn the love of Drizzt Do'Urden." Drizzt then goes on to state, "But he is my family by blood, and she is my family by choice. I have come to learn that the latter is a stronger bond." While the message that's attempted to be conveyed here is a very important one, the validity of it is harmed by the context. It's very unfair for Zaknafein to be presented as though he were more akin to the other Do'Urdens instead of the unconditionally loving father who didn't hesitate to put himself in harm's way, including dying in excruciating and humiliating ways so that his son could have a chance at freedom. This is yet another scenario in which Salvatore creates unnecessary drama while ignoring facets of his story that have genuine dramatic potential. Zaknafein is not the type of character with whom Drizzt should have to choose between family by blood and family by choice, as he's already shown that Zaknafein is trying his best to adapt to the new world. It is true that there are few opportunities for Drizzt to flaunt his moral beacon in Boundless, but there's nothing wrong with that, and should've just been left as it is, but it's as though Salvatore can't write a Drizzt novel without Drizzt having to be sanctimonious and preachy. It was wholly unnecessary to villainize a non-villainous character to repeat some of the same old tired writing practices.

Also in the category of repetitive and tired themes, albeit one that doesn't further butcher the characters, is the catching of projectiles in one's cloak. This is a phenomenon that happens so frequently in the Drizzt books that had a reader no knowledge of the purpose of cloaks, they might think that their main purpose is to act as an anti-missile system. Cloaks originally became common because they protected the wearer from inclement weather while allowing access to the wearer's worn possessions. In D&D and other games, it became an additional equipment slot and as such, gained an practical value as well. A cloak without enhancing properties would actually serve as a detriment in a fight, acting as a loose and difficult to control extension of one's body that can be easily grabbed by the opponent, something that's accurately made a point of in The Incredibles. I suppose that there could exist a magical item like a Cloak of Missile Catching, but this isn't what any of Salvatore's characters ever wear. It's difficult to give Salvatore points for coming up with a creative use for what's basically an aesthetic item because it's just so impractical and unrealistic. It doesn't help that he repeats this motif so much that it approaches ego-stroking levels.

The second most major contributing factor to Boundless' tediousness is the obscenely large amount of recollections strewn throughout the book, making them overall more unsightly than the plastic polluting our modern day oceans. In the scenes set during the current timeline, almost at every turn we're given a history of what so-and-so is, or who so-and-so have associations with. These reviews, although brief, make up for their concision with their frequency. I can understand why Salvatore does this, for Timeless wasn't as standalone as he'd hoped, but his attempted method to rectify this fact in Boundless is more distracting than enlightening. Especially considering that much of the reviewed content is along the lines of, "Drizzt, trained in the ways of the monk by Grandmaster Kane", ergo, telling us how awesome Salvatore's protagonists are rather than shedding light into the significant events that shaped what is happening in the current book. When a significant event is mentioned, it is done so in such a cursory way that all a new reader would know is that something happened in the past that relates to what is happening presently, but otherwise it's like explaining different colors to someone who's never had vision before. For instance, "this was a trick Kimmuriel had used before, and very recently with Drizzt in Menzoberranzan, creating a telekinetic barrier that absorbed the power of every strike, magical or physical, holding it in stasis, ready for the magically armored person to release it back." This recap does manage to explain the relevant mechanic, however it also alludes to a very significant event, yet it's unclear what the purpose of it doing so is. The reference to what Drizzt did in Menzoberranzan doesn't say enough to allow anyone who hasn't read Hero to understand, but someone who's read Hero should remember the details of the climax of the book. So much of what Boundless presents is like this, retreads that make the novel tedious to read for those who have been reading, and probably only serve to further confuse those who haven't. Who is Salvatore writing for, then? Those who continue to throw money his way but never pay enough attention to what happens in his books to remember the climaxes? Are these the kinds of people that any author should point to as "proof" of their literary excellence?

Laborious "Action"

The one aspect that drives most of Boundless' tediousness is the sheer amount of long and boring action sequences that are wordy and not much of anything else. Salvatore's action scenes are more reminiscent of IKEA furniture assembly instructions than descriptive imagery, except that IKEA instructions are actually visual enough for one to use in constructing a pragmatic (and sturdy) physical object. Salvatore's action scenes are reminiscent of the type of smut in fanfiction that gives fanfiction a bad name, namely, cut and dried descriptions that are more like making a grocery list than painting a picture. At the very least, Salvatore's action scenes are not too anatomically ridiculous (yet), which makes them slightly better than the kind of fanfiction referenced.

An example of a grocery list action scene is as follows:

There's so much going wrong in this passage. The inconsistent specificity of each element makes the whole feel like an incongruous collection of parts. Jarlaxle hooking his fingers on a jag in the stone is clear enough, as is flipping over, and rolling his feet can be understood even if vague, but how all of that ties together is as clear as a chunk of obsidian. How Jarlaxle pulled himself around the base of a mound isn't articulated, other than that he did it while keeping his momentum, which is superfluous because any acrobatic maneuver would keep its momentum because momentum is what makes those maneuvers possible. It's like the only basic physics concept that Salvatore understands is gravity, because "he fell with gravity" is one of the few things he doesn't spell out in his action scenes. In any case, specifics like if Jarlaxle went left or right aren't what's needed, but rather, how about some evocative imagery like, "he snapped like a whip around the sharp turn"? I'm not saying that's the correct analogy to use, I honestly don't know, because I have no idea what's supposed to be going on in this passage. The same is true of what's said of Zaknafein, which while a bit better, is still painfully dry. Some of the stuff doesn't make sense, for instance, how did Zaknafein leap on the wide base of the stalagmite? The base of a stalagmite is that which the stone formation grows out of, inside the rock itself, does Salvatore mean that Zaknafein propelled himself off of the side of the stalagmite near its base? The rest of the sequence, it's unclear what Zaknafein is flipping over and running along. Is it still the same stalagmite, or a different stalagmite? All of that is just words words words, except, of course, the one thing that's clear enough: that Drizzt is awesome and so is his dad.

Another grocery list action scene is, "A glance left, a glance right, and off he sprinted, up the side of a stalagmite mound, leaping, spinning, somersaulting, to hit the ground in perfect balance and at a full run." What this scene brings to mind is more along the lines of a Driver's Ed course followed by the Sky Dancer toy from the 90s rather than the agile moves of an acrobat. Again, an excess number of words are used to little effect, and all that's conveyed is, "Zaknafein is awesome". I almost feel like he should be clad in skin-tight black leather and be wearing high-tech sunglasses.

Yet another example of writing that only conveys how awesome Salvatore's characters are is, "the barbarian came to realize that this foe was far more akin to Drizzt or Entreri than to what he'd expect from a pampered Waterdhavian lord. The man's sword worked in a blur, every movement sending it at Wulfgar in a different angle, sometimes a slash, sometimes a stab, sometimes a punch from the hilt." The first sentence in this passage, although not describing any action, tells us a lot more about Wulfgar's opponent than the second sentence, which does actively describe the man's actions, even to a new reader whom wouldn't know about Entreri's history and what makes him what he is. Furthermore, there's a stuttered nature to the second sentence, with the "blur" description disagreeing with the choppy rhythm of the specified attacks. Rather than a blur, the noble's attacks feel more like a predictable pattern of programmed thrusts from an automated training dummy.

Boundless wouldn't be the first Salvatore book in which I'd wondered if he'd confused himself with his writing. One example of what leads me to think so from this novel is:

What is even going on here? Did Salvatore switch Zaknafein and Jarlaxle's names by accident, intending for Zaknafein to be the one caught by surprise? Zaknafein's "don't wait for us!" suggests that he knows what's going on and has some level of confidence in the circumstances, yet as is demonstrated later in the passage, this is not the case. Indeed, later in the sequence (not shown), Jarlaxle is the one in control, deploying a back-up plan to guarantee their safety amidst the chaos. Yet, it's unlikely for Jarlaxle to scream, and Zaknafein to gasp, so perhaps Salvatore meant what he wrote. It's all too convoluted to tell, however. Further, while its a trifle nit-picky, wouldn't the command to "Let 'em fly, boys!" come before the quarrels were discharged? I mean, these are quarrels that do make things like stalactites explode, both powerfully AND beautifully, but dwarves have a lot of discipline.

Perhaps the most tedious action sequences are Zaknafein's extensive training montages, like the one in chapter four. It takes up literally forty percent of the chapter and proceeds in excruciatingly dry detail. The entirety of it is too long to quote here, but there are a lot of statements like, "hands across his belly to grab the hilts of his swords at his hips, right forearm over left", "he turned his right wrist as that sword came across bringing it vertical in its sweep, then shortening the cut, while the left went across perfectly horizontally, with full follow-through and even a step with the left foot in that direction", "he went to a series of same-hand, same-hip draws, where he brought forth the sword on his left hip with his left hand, right hand for the right", and so on. It's like Salvatore is writing The Dummy's Guide to Drow Swordfighting, as these sentences are more like step by step guide points than flowing combat moves. It's actually worse than that, because more than likely, these moves are more theatrical than actually practical, such that anyone who followed such a guide would indeed be a dummy, and quite a dead one at that if they expected to survive in drow society like that. And there's just so much of it, such that it begs the question of if Salvatore had a word count quota that he had to fill.

Finally, after a refreshing break away from it in Timeless, the standard Salvatore C-rated Hollywood stop motion fight scenes are back. Speaking to many members of the SCA and historical combat re-enacters and fencers, including ones who have read Salvatore's books, have taught me that most of the combat scenes, specifically concerning the usage of swords, are totally wrong. A consensus among the actual martial artists is that there's a lot of slashing when there should be stabbing, and the way that the characters conduct themselves in combat is more akin to sports than martial arts, being particularly evocative of hockey. It isn't surprising that Salvatore's inspiration comes from hockey, that is what he knows after all (more than swordsmanship and D&D anyway), but it seems that rather than improving his knowledge with research, he supplements it with popular themes in movies. Something like, "slowly they closed, though, until they were but a few strides away, when both, as if some silent understanding had passed between them, leaped into the air and roared" feels more like a transcription from a live action sequence, for in reality no purpose is served for two combatants to leap at each other roaring. It's a waste of energy, especially as the two have been aware of each other's prowess for a while and are not easily intimidated. If this scene was something that we were watching rather than reading, the sound effects might enhance the the drama, and while imagined sound effects can do the same for a written scene, something as bland as simply "roaring", just makes the whole scene banal.

#ooc #Boundless #legend of drizzt #Forgotten realms #R A Salvatore #book review #Generations Trilogy #Artemis Entreri #Jarlaxle Baenre #Kimmuriel Oblodra #Yvonnel Baenre #Arathis Hune #Drizzt Do'Urden #Catti-brie #Athrogate #drow #drider

5 notes · View notes

coffeetreesandhoneybees · 6 years ago

Text

A-levels!

Hi everybody! I’ve been very dead on this account recently, and I’m sure you all understand. Exams are tough, but I finished today! Here’s just a little post I wanted to make about my time doing A-levels at Sixth Form in the UK for any year 11s or anyone who wants to know a bit more from someone with the benefit of hindsight.

My Subjects

I began my 2 years doing five subjects - Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Music and AS Maths. I knew I was a scientist from GCSEs and I couldn’t bear to leave music behind, so I was lucky enough to know straight away what I was going to pick. My school also allowed us the option to take AS maths as a fifth subject, but after about 2 weeks I ended up dropping this as I knew my heart wasn’t in it - I was just taking it because I could. And you know what? There’s no shame in taking a subject to see what it’s like, then dropping it. After this, I kept all my others because I felt that I could keep up with them and enjoyed them all. I’m so glad I did - don’t feel like you have to drop down to three if you don’t want to, but on the flip side, if you really feel like one of your subjects isn’t working out for you, don’t feel guilty about dropping!

Studying

I don’t know about other places, but my school certainly turned up the pressure when we started each new year. They would constantly tell us that we needed to be putting minimum 5 hours per subject extra per week at home or during frees, but realistically, this is not always sustainable. Especially if you’re still doing four or five subjects. You need to learn pretty quickly to prioritise, and put out fires as they crop up. And relax! You are not a work machine, and I promise your teachers will understand if you miss one or two pieces of homework occasionally. However if you’re like me and have one teacher who’s really totally unforgiving, the only thing you can do is prioritise work for this teacher. It’s likely that their method of teaching revolves around using the fear factor to make you learn things, and, as much as it sucks, in my experience it does tend to work if you just get on with it. Hang in there - a lot of the time it can feel quite overbearing, but I promise it’s temporary, and if you stick it out, more often than not it will pay off. Just do your best and that’s all anyone can ask :)

Universities

UCAS is a terrifying word at the start of year 12, and people will be chucking the term “personal statement” around a lot too. The important things here is to, maybe counter-intuitively, take a step back from academia and think about you, and what you want to get out of your studying career. If you are passionate about a particular subject already, like I was, great. Find that as a degree, or a degree in that field, and talk about why you love it. If you’re not so sure, the deadlines probably feel really intimidating. There’s a lot of choice, but in this case, why not try picking a university before you pick a subject. A guy came to our school and advised us to make a list of all the qualities our dream uni has, and there is probably one in the uk (or abroad!) that fits the bill. Once you’ve found one, think about the courses it has to offer, and if one takes your fancy. But having said all that, here’s a tip - there is more to life that higher education !! Square peg in a round hole - if you don’t think uni is your thing, don’t force it to be!

Other Commitments

Ok, I won’t brag, but it’s fair to say I know a good deal about signing up for extra-curricular commitments. Firstly, as an A-level musician, a lot of my time was spent in the music department, helping out with clubs, school productions, even starting my own ensemble, for which I did all the arranging. The key thing about this though is that it didn’t feel like a chore, because I really loved music and enjoyed helping out, so even though I spent so much of my own time doing these things, my fondest sixth-form memories are in that department. Point being, extra-curriculars aren’t just things to put on your personal statement and then ditch - if you find something you’re really passionate about, you’re winning. Outside of music, I taught myself Japanese and took JLPT N4, took an EPQ and became deputy head girl. All of these things also took considerable chunks of time out of my week, but again, I enjoyed them. Ok, the EPQ was a tough slog with all the editing and researching that went in, but I’m so glad I did it. (Let me know if you guys want a post on research reports or my EPQ experience as well :P)

Exams

Across my four subjects I had 10 exams - 3 for each science, and 1 for music. Music was mostly coursework (performing and composing), which is why there was only one. Exams season is obviously a stressful time, but what I found really helpful was that your teachers are there to help you and if you approach them, they will, 9 times out of 10, go out of their way to do so. Ok, there may be some stinky teachers who won’t be so helpful, but even if they don’t teach you, approach your head of department, or a teacher your friend recommends. Having a good teacher who you can count on to help you really relieves the stress, and makes working through past papers and stuff much more productive, as you don’t have to wind yourself up for hours over 1 really tough question. With regards to actual exams - it’s a total gamble what’s going to be on the paper, so if you’re on those forums that tell you what’s going to be on it, forget it. Exam boards like OCR and Edexcel love to throw curveballs, so you’re better off not psyching yourself out over it. You’re going to get some rough ones - I had one today. And it feels pretty terrible at first. But I promise you won’t be the only person who found it rough, even if your friends didn’t. If you’ve put in the work and you’ve done your best, that’s fine. You are not a failure for skipping questions or running out of time.

And I will leave this very long post there! Hopefully this was a bit informative?? Just wanted to share some of my experiences. Well done to all my fellow Yr 13 on making it through, enjoy the rest of our very long summer! (Also if anyone else sat the OCR Chemistry Paper 3 and wants to talk about how stinky it was with me hit up my inbox lol)

CTandHB :)

#alevels #a levels #a level biology #a level chemistry #a level physics #a level music #student #uk studyblr #uk student #exams #advice #studyblr #studying #students #year 13 #year 12 #year 11

15 notes · View notes

galli-writes · 6 years ago

Photo

Anything at All

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

(Click here to listen to the podfic!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21....and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like...a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he'll ever need.

a/n: Hello everyone! This is the first fic I've ever actually completed, and I can't wait to finally share it! I had a lot of fun writing it. I'm currently in the editing process and hope to post roughly a chapter a week. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Beginnings ( words: 5,680 )

Beast Boy watched as raindrops pounded against the side of the common room window, the sky a turbulent whirlwind of grays and blacks. Various equipment dotted the field far below, carelessly abandoned the moment Robin had called off training ‘due to weather conditions.’ The TV hummed quietly in the background against the rain, the kitchen lights glowing like street lamps in the dead of night.

“Finally ,” he said proudly, his hands and face pressed up against the cool glass. “The weather’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” a tired voice said a few feet behind him. “For what?” It was Raven, bundled up in the corner of the couch under a thick wool blanket. She was currently the only other person in the room, a large black book perched at the end of her hand like an enormous bird. “I thought you hated the rain.”

Beast Boy pushed off the glass, returning to the warmth. “I hate getting wet . Wet dog is not a good look. Even for real dogs.” He walked over to the coffee table in the center of the room. “But this," he said, getting on his knees to pull a large cardboard box out from underneath, " This is great."

He heaved the box onto the table, scooting magazines and abandoned plates off to the side. "I’ve been waiting for it to rain—and I mean really pour —for a while now.”

“Because...?” Raven asked, as she watched him begin to dig through the box.

“Becaaaaaaaaause,” Beast Boy said, drawing out the word dramatically. “This time, I'm gonna come out on top." As he said this, he lifted the box, shaking out a dozen items or so onto the table. Among them were a slingshot, an roll of chicken wire, some old hot wheels, and two empty milk cartons.

“Please don’t tell me this is another one of your ridiculous pranks,” Raven said begrudgingly, adjusting her position.

Beast Boy shot her two finger guns with a click of his tongue. “Hell yeah it is, baby.”

“Do you really think I want anything to do with...whatever this is?” she said, vaguely gesturing toward the items on the table.

“Nope,” Beast Boy said, a little too enthusiastically.

“Then why are you showing it to me?”

“Because,” Beast Boy said, starting to arrange the treasures before him. “I wanna run the idea by someone while Cy's busy fixing his car. And since I know you don’t actually care, I don't have to worry about you ruining the surprise. Which--side note--" he said, pulling away from the growing structure to examine it, "Never give Starfire the nuke codes.”

Raven rolled her eyes again. But just as she was about to lift her book back up to block him from view, Beast Boy stuck his hand out to stop her.

“No, you’re gonna wanna see this. Trust me .” He grabbed a well-worn Batman figurine that he’d set off to the side. "Okay, so pretend this is Cyborg," he said, planting it at one corner of the mousetrap-like schematic.

Raven just frowned. "Is that...Robin's?"

Beast Boy squinted at the figure, biting his lip. “Eh...Not important." He planted the figure in a square marked off with string labeled 'GARAGE.' One of the hotwheels sat parked in this section.

"Cy's been so busy lately, he'll never see this coming'," Beast Boy said with a smirk. "Next time he heads down to the garage, I’ll have everything already set up. First move--he’ll trip this wire right here.” He pointed to a piece of string as he said this. "And that's when shit hits the fan."

"Please tell me you don't mean that literally," Raven said, wrinkling her nose.

Beast Boy just flashed her a devious smile. “We’ll get there.”

The demonstration took at least two minutes to run through, Beast Boy talking the entire time. By the end, most of his props were either on the floor or halfway across the room.

“...And to wrap it all up,” he said, not pausing to take a breath, “This catapult will trip this switch here, opening the window over here, and then the wagon from over here will send him sliding out into the mud, rolling down the hill and into this huge puddle riiiiiiight...here.” He pointed at a spot on the table marked with a fridge magnet 'X', a huge grin on his face. "After a storm like this one, that whole area's gonna be a lake. A super gross, slimy, stinky lake of prank legend. It’ll take him at least a week to get the stench out.”

Raven stared at the exhibit before her. Her eyes had followed every one of Beast Boy's movements in complete silence.

“So? Whaddya think?” he asked, rising and breathlessly plopping down on the couch beside her. “Pretty impressive, huh?”

Raven glanced at the table, then at him, then ultimately, back down at her book. “Yeah. You’re a genius.”

“Oh come on , Raven!” Beast Boy whined, throwing his arms out, gesturing back to the miniature metropolis. “That took me like...a month to come up with!”

Raven turned the page with a sigh. "Maybe if you weren’t so busy investing all of your time and energy into coming up with useless pranks, you’d actually have some left over for important things.”

“Like…?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” she said, holding out her hand with a shrug. “Things like doing the dishes or checking the mail--or maybe actually learning how to carry your weight in a fight. Don’t know how to help you with that last one though.”

Beast Boy frowned. “Just because you can’t appreciate art doesn’t mean it’s useless,” he said, leaning over to the table and using his arm to corral the items back into their box. The ones scattered on the floor became enveloped in small clouds of purple. Beast Boy held the box open, as Raven directed them into the container.

“And I do too carry my weight!" he said, sliding the box back under the couch.

“That’s...debatable.”

Coming from anyone else, he might have actually been hurt by the remark. But coming from Raven, it was a challenge more than anything else.

“Oh yeah?” Beast Boy said, a determined smile crossing his face. “Then carry this !”

With a running start off the cushions, he jumped off the back of the couch and into the air, morphing mid-flip. When he landed, the ground shook and the ceiling lights swung back and forth violently. The TV remote and discarded plates clattered off the coffee table and onto the floor. Beast Boy shook his head, flapping his huge green ears. He reared back and stomped down on the kitchen floor, proudly lifting his elephant’s trunk to let out a loud trumpet.

Raven glanced over her shoulder at him, clearly unimpressed. She turned back to her book, lifting a hand in the air as she did so.

Suddenly Beast Boy found himself surrounded in black shadow...and his feet began to lift off the ground. He automatically began to squirm in a half-hearted attempt to bring himself down, but it was a lost cause.

Raven lifted him higher and higher until, when he was barely a foot from the ceiling, the shadow disappeared in a flash--and he felt himself hurtling downward. With one last elephant screech of alarm he quickly shifted again, plopping onto the ground with four nimble tabby cat paws.

Without missing a beat, he crouched down and leapt up onto the back of the couch and then down onto the cushion beside Raven. He transformed back, kicking up his feet on the table, arms folded across his chest. “Smartass.”

Raven was still looking down at her book, but Beast Boy could see the faintest hint of a smile on her face.

After a moment, he felt--and heard--his stomach growl about as loudly as any animal he’d ever been.

“Eugh, I’m starving. Pranking really does take a lot out of ya,” he said, springing to his feet once more. He headed to the kitchen just behind them--where there was always at least one bag of chips to be found in the pantry. This time it was Fritos--not a bad option at all.

“You want anything?” Beast Boy called over his shoulder, opening the fridge.

“I’m fine.”

In Raven’s secret, minimalist language, he’d learned that that usually meant ginger ale.

“Behind,” he said, chucking the last can of Canada Dry cranberry over his shoulder. Raven caught it and cracked it open in the air, all without even lifting a finger.

Beast Boy grabbed a root beer for himself and swung over the back of the couch again reclaiming his seat.

He looked up at the TV, which was still on in the background. He hadn’t paid any attention to it since he’d entered the room. The images that flashed by on the screen were dark and dramatic. It was mostly just video footage from a shaky night vision camera, rounded out with low budget murder re-enactments. “So what’re we watching?" he asked, shoving a handful of Fritos into his mouth. A doll with bloodshot eyes and a cracked face appeared in the corner as it cut to commercial. "Er...pretending to watch?” he asked.

“Ghost Adventures,” Raven replied.

“Seriously?” Beast Boy said, cracking open the root beer. It immediately started fizzing over, and he tried his best to lick up the extra foam. “You know that stuff is like...totally fake, right?”

"Of course it is," she said, not even looking up at the screen. "If opening interdimensional portals of that magnitude were so easy, my dad would've destroyed Earth ages ago."

“Then why do you watch this garbage?”

Raven let out an exhausted sigh. “I dunno. It’s kind of like...when you have so much actual demon shit going on in your life, watching the fake stuff is kinda...refreshing.” She flipped to the next page in her book. “You can change the channel if you want. I’ve already seen this episode.”

Beast Boy swiped the remote off the floor and was about to automatically click to one of his few go-to channels when Raven quickly interjected.

“—Just as long as you don’t put on American Ninja Warrior. Or The Carbonaro Effect. Or anything else in that vein.”

Beast Boy slumped in his seat. “What else is there?”

Just like the soda can and hot wheels before, the remote lifted out of Beast Boy’s grip and floated to the other side of the couch, landing in Raven’s free hand.

"Houses or food?" She asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Uh..." Beast Boy said, rubbing his chin. "Houses?"

The image on the screen changed drastically, cutting to a montage of different townhouses, highlighting their pros and cons. Then it flashed to a generic couple at a generic restaurant, two generic margaritas sitting in front of them.

Suddenly, a familiar, flighty voice echoed down the hallway behind them. “Hello, friends!” Starfire proclaimed as she entered the room. “I heard a loud crashing noise and came to see if everyone is—Oooo!” she squealed, the worry immediately dropping from her voice. “Are we watching the hunters of houses?”

“We are now,” Beast Boy said, taking another sip of his soda and setting it down on the table.

Starfire flew over to the couch in a heartbeat. “I have already seen this episode but it is enjoyable nonetheless,” she said, taking a seat next to Beast Boy, along with a handful of Fritos. “But I do love attempting to guess which house they will choose!”

“Didn’t you just say you’ve already seen this episode?” Beast Boy said, forfeiting the bag to Starfire, who was about to finish it off.

“Of course! But I do not remember which one they picked,” she said with a smile. “I hope it is the one with the crown of molding. It has so much character . At least, that is what the female voice always says.”

“Crown molding isn’t character,” Raven said, lowering her book again. “Character is when the realtor tells them that the former owner was a serial killer, and if you squint you can still see the blood stains in dining room where she chopped up her victims." She paused, exchanging a glance with a confused Starfire and disgusted Beast Boy. "And it has the original wood floors," she added hastily.

“But Raven!” Starfire exclaimed. “The with the mold comes with access to a pool of community swimming!”

Beast Boy shook his head. “You guys’ve both got it wrong. Character and pools aren’t important to them. They just said so,” he said, gesturing to the screen. “They need to pick the one in the suburbs. It’s the most realistic and the best bang for their buck.” He began counting off the assets on his fingers. “It’s close to downtown without being in it. Finished basement. Renovated kitchen. Plus they said they’re planning on having kids, and it’s in the best school district outta the three.”

The two looked at him, wide eyed and blinking.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Raven said. “I just never realized you actually possessed critical thinking skills.”

Beast Boy stuck out his tongue at her with a grimace.

Starfire giggled. “Well, I only hope that no matter which residence they select, they will live a joyful and prosperous life together!” Saying this, she clasped her hands together over her chest, looking off somewhere far away.

“I give it six months,” Raven said flatly.

Before the final reveal, the TV flashed to commercial again, now advertising soap and vacation cruises only old rich people could afford.

“Hmm..." Starfire hummed. "I forgot why it was that I originally came down here." She tapped her finger at the corner of her mouth. “Oh! The big thud! No one is hurt then?"“

“If you don't count hurt pride,” Raven said, a subtle smirk on her lips.

“Haha very funny,” Beast Boy said, crossing his arms.

But he immediately perked up as the ad on the TV switched. Now a chorus of joyful screams came from the speakers as a steel roller coaster completed a loop. Next it cycled through the images of a huge Ferris wheel and streets crammed with food carts and games.

“Oh, dude! I totally forgot!” he said, jumping to his feet. “The state fair opens this weekend!"

“Fair?” Starfire questioned, the same look of confusion still on her face. “As in the just and right?”

“No, no, no,” Beast Boy said, shaking his head. “Like the fair. You know...” He waved his hands in front of him as if painting an imaginary picture. “Sketchy rides, rigged games, shitty oversized stuffed animals..." He counted off the pros on his fingers once more. "And anything and everything you can think to eat--deep fried.”

"Deep...fried?" Starfire asked, her finger still at the corner of her mouth, eyes open wide.

Raven looked at Beast Boy, skeptical. “Is that your sales pitch?”

Beast Boy ignored her, continuing to talk to the one captivated member of his audience. “They also have performances, and auctions, and hella fuckin’ huuuuge vegetables. Stuff like that. Usually around the same place where they keep the farm animals.”

“Farm animals?!” Starfire said, her eyes lighting up with an intensity Beast Boy had not anticipated. “Do you think they will have...GOATS?”

“Uh...probably?” he shrugged.

“Oh, excellent!” Starfire said, jumping to her feet as well, tackling him with one of her trademark rib-crushing hugs. Luckily, she released him before he forgot how to breathe. “Oh how I long to see the small sideways-eyed sheep!” she said, hands shooting up to either side of her face.

“I mean,” Raven shrugged, “if you really wanna see a goat that bad...you don’t have to go to the fair to do it.” She nodded in Beast Boy’s direction.

“Oh, but Raven,” Starfire said, now flying over to her, claiming a corner of the blanket as her own, “It would be much more exciting to see multiple goats of many shapes and sizes simultaneously. Besides,” she shook her head with a pout, “Beast Boy cannot transform into the baby goat! At least, not that I am aware of.”

“She’s got a point, Rave,” Beast Boy said, taking another sip of his root beer.

Raven hunched her shoulders. “Fairs are just dirty, overcrowded, unapologetic government cash grabs.”

“But they have goooooaaaats,” Beast Boy said tauntingly, his comment immediately followed by another squeal from Starfire.

Raven just shook her head, returning to her book again. “We have more important things to do than go to the fair.”

“Like what?” Beast Boy said. “Sit around and read dusty old books all day?”

Just then, the three were interrupted by yet another voice, this one deep and mellow.

“Jesus. Well that was a shitshow.”

Cyborg walked into the room panting, covered in grease, with a towel in one hand and a large, techy looking cube in the other.

“What happened?” Beast Boy asked, hanging over the back side of the couch, turning to address him.

“This fucking battery,” Cyborg said, dropping the cube on the counter, “decided to short circuit on me, right when everything was coming together.” He sighed. “Fried the whole system.”

“Oof,” Beast Boy sighed.

“I am very sorry to hear that,” Starfire frowned.

“It’ll take me at least two weeks to get all the parts I need to fix it,” Cyborg said, cracking open the fridge. He pulled out some sandwich essentials—turkey, provolone, tomatoes. Then he grabbed some bread and mustard, generously coating the former with the latter. “Which means we’re gonna be out of a ride for a while. At least in terms of low profile transportation. Because I don’t think we can count Robin’s bike in the mix.”

“That is quite alright, Cyborg,” Starfire said, a little too enthusiastically. “I have always wanted an excuse to make use of the system of transportation for the public,” she beamed.

“Starfire. You can fly,” he said flatly in response.

“Yes, but the complicated schedules and routes of the buses is such a fascinating concept to me. And I would like to experience it with my first hand.”

Cyborg just blinked as if attempting to get rid of the thought altogether. He turned back to the fridge. “Aw man, are we all out of ginger ale?”

“Raven got the last one,” Beast Boy said, nodding back at her.

“Sorry,” she said, actually sounding a little bad about it.

“And we’re also out of pickles...sriracha...and,” Cyborg took a bottle in his hand and gave it a shake “ my seasonal, limited edition pumpkin spice creamer ?”

Starfire immediately ducked behind the couch, a pout on her face. “My deepest apologies, friend,” she said quietly. “I have quite a weakness for both the pumpkins and the spices.”

“This is chaos,” Cyborg said, giving up and closing the fridge door. “What are we? Animals?”

Beast Boy smiled, but before he could make a move, Cyborg pointed directly at him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, dude,” he said, sitting back down. “We’ll go shopping later after it stops raining.”

“And how do you suppose we get there? Drive? Fly? How’re we gonna carry all the groceries back?”

Starfire gasped. “The public transportation!”

Just then, the airlock door slid open at the other end of the room for a third time, and the only other person who could have walked through it did.

“Oh, good, everyone’s already here,” Robin said, making his entrance. In his right hand, he was gripping a large, rolled up sheet of paper of some sort. Something like a map.

“Uh...yeah man, we live here,” Beast Boy laughed.

Robin just stared at everyone for a moment, and it became clear he had been referring to something a little more specific. His brow furrowed. “Really guys? You didn’t remember?”

Everyone just stared back at him silently.

Robin ran his hand over his face, as if wiping away his exhaustion. “We’re supposed to be having a team meeting right now.”

“Hey, I remembered,” Cyborg said defensively, between a bite of his sandwich.

“Only because I ran into you in the hallway on my way up here, and you asked me where I was going,” Robin said, crossing his arms.

Cyborg just smiled sheepishly.

Robin sighed, heading over to the couch. “I know these things sometimes seem redundant, but for once I actually do have something we need to talk about.”

“Washing machine broken again?” Cyborg asked playfully, looking at Beast Boy as he said it.

“Hey, that wasn’t me, and you know it,” Beast Boy retorted.

“Well it wasn’t me ,” Cyborg said, gesturing to himself. “I don’t even wear clothes.”

Robin lifted a hand and the two fell silent immediately. “Unfortunately, this is a little more serious than blaming each other for not taking out the trash or cleaning the bathroom.” As he said this, he pulled out the paper, spreading it out on the table, scooting Beast Boy’s root beer carefully to the corner.

The sheet of paper, more like an architectural blueprint really, showed detailed layouts of specific areas throughout Jump City. There were multiple lines drawn here and there connecting one section to another, notes scrawled in the all of the margins.

“The technology we have is pretty good at keeping track of our battles,” Robin started. “Who the main aggressor was, if they were alone or accompanied, what seemed to be their ultimate goal in the battle. Their predicted attack patterns based on past fights…” He paused. “But there are some things a computer can’t tell you--no offense, Cy,” he said, with a subtle smile.

“None taken,” Cyborg laughed in return.

“Anyway,” Robin continued, turning back to the map, “sometimes you just feel a certain way about something. The data might not show it outright, but your gut is telling you something’s off.” He sighed. “Usually these battles are a one-time thing—we get in we get out—and the criminal is acting either alone or with a relatively short term goal. But the past two or three missions, I’ve been noticing some patterns.”

Robin pointed to one of the circled locations in the bottom left corner of the map. “Lower East side, about three weeks ago today. We were attacked by that group on androids at that EPA lab. I went back to ask some questions the next day. The woman I spoke to seemed just as surprised about the attack as anyone else. All of the EPA’s data is in the public domain. The building itself is on a pretty tight lockdown due to standard government procedures. But there isn’t really much there to...steal. At least not information wise,” Robin said, hand on the back of his neck. “Those assholes left behind a pretty big mess, but they only stole one thing. A piece of equipment called a mass spectrometer. From what the woman explained to me, it’s a pretty standard piece of machinery in their line of work. Nothing incredibly special. She said it was probably one of the more valuable machines in the lab--some of them can be worth up to 100k. But that just doesn’t settle it for me,” he said, shaking his head. “If the criminals just wanted money, they would’ve robbed a bank. They have about the same level of security.”

“I mean...they probably wanna use it for something then,” Beast Boy suggested. “You know, cut out the middleman.”

“She told me these machines are most commonly used to test drug metabolism rates, or analyze blood samples. Forensics stuff,” Robin said, staring back down at the paper. “Stuff that would be useful on our end. Not theirs.” As he said this, he reached into his pocket and took out a small coin-like object. “The woman said that they found this jammed in one of the machines the morning after.”

He placed the coin onto the table. Everyone automatically leaned over to reach for the shiny silver circle, but Cyborg was the one who got hold of it first. It was bent poorly out of shape, but still had some faintly legible lettering visible on it. Cyborg zoomed in as far as he could with his one eye, the lens taking a moment to focus on the miniscule letters.

“A....R....S....E…” he read aloud. “And then something else. That’s all I can make out. Shit’s pretty worn down.” He handed it to Starfire. Raven leaned in to look at it over her shoulder.

Beast Boy quickly clasped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The laughter was already erupting out of him. Everyone turned to look at him.

“May I ask what’s so funny?” Robin said, unamused.

“It’s just--” Beast Boy said, struggling to hold another cackle in .”Oh, come on! Arse? Like Ass?” he said, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

“We are fighting ass monsters?” Starfire said, disgusted.

Cyborg couldn’t hold back a laugh at that and snorted along with Beast Boy.

Raven rolled her eyes.

“No,” Robin said with a completely straight face.

Beast Boy reeled himself back, his laughter suppressed for now, but a grin still firmly on his face.

Robin cleared his throat. “Anyway...that brings me to my next point.” He reached into his pocket again, this time pulling out a small chip, like an identification tag. He placed it on the table. There were several letters missing on this one as well. “S, E, N,” Robin spelled out aloud. “They’re made of the same metal.”

Beast Boy looked down at the tag. This fight he did remember. It had taken place just a few days ago--at the local aquarium of all places. A break in that had escalated into a full blown hostage situation. They’d handled it, more or less, and no one had gotten hurt. Still, it all seemed like a lot more trouble than some fish were worth.

“But those were real people we fought at Franklin,” Cyborg said, frowning.

"We don’t know that for sure,” Robin replied. “And even if they were, that doesn’t mean the two attacks weren’t related.” He scanned some of the notes scribbled in the left hand margin of the map. “When I went back to Franklin Aquarium post battle, I decided to also check in with their adjunct Marine Biology research and conservation lab. Robin stared down at the tag. "I asked the researchers if they'd heard anything about the break in at the EPA. They hadn't--but said they’d worked on projects with them in the past. Again, no one had a good explanation for why anyone would want to target the aquarium like that. Besides property damage, the criminals didn’t leave much of a mark. At least, not one that they could prove.” Here, Robin flipped over the sheet of paper, revealing that the other side was covered in even more notes, even some crudely drawn diagrams.

“A man working at the head of R&D told me that they’d recently come into possession of a rare species of cuttlefish,” Robin continued. “And after the attack, it had gone missing. They said missing because they weren’t sure if it was stolen or killed during the general destruction.”

"Excuse me, Robin, but what is a fish of cuddles?" Starfire asked.

“A cuttlefish,” he repeated. “It's kinda like a squid. I didn’t understand exactly what was so important about it at first. Not until I took a look at the remains of the exhibit for myself." Saying this, Robin reached into his pocket and took out his phone, scrolling through it for a moment. "Most animals that change their color for camouflage do so on a pretty superficial level. Something to do with having specialized cells for changing color or creating patterns on their skin. But the species they lost at Franklin had only been discovered about a year ago. It was one of the only ones in captivity."

Without a word, Robin stopped scrolling and looked at Beast Boy. He handed him the phone, not even glancing at the other three.

Beast Boy grabbed the phone without asking questions. On the screen was a clear picture of an information sign under a vacant exhibit. Robin’s eyes still on him, he got the silent memo that he was supposed to read it aloud.

"Sepiida omneforman,” he started, having no idea what the words were supposed to sound like, “otherwise known as the South-African clay fish, is one of the rarest species of cuttlefish in the world. First discovered in 2017, by a group of researchers from Johannesburg, the clay fish is widely believed to be similar to the common cuttlefish in diet and habitat. Like their octopus kin, clay cuttlefish hide from enemies with chromatic camouflage and clouds of ink. However, they are one of the only living creatures suspected to also possess limited 'shape-shifting' abilities.” At this Beast Boy paused--just a beat. “Named so for these abilities, the clay fish is capable of reorganizing its structural DNA in order to create false appendages and skin textures/colorization at will. These abilities may help the clay fish to intimidate possible predators or allow it to better blend in with its surroundings. Scientists are currently researching the clay fish’s unique genome, with the hope of discovering more efficient ways to conduct gene therapy in modern medicine."

Beast Boy lowered the phone. He raised an eyebrow. “That's what everyone's so worked up about? Some fish that can kinda shapeshift?" He tossed the phone back to Robin. "Pffft. I figured that party trick out ages ago,” he said, kicking up his feet on the table, closing his eyes. “They coulda just asked,” he said with a smile. “I’m always happy to help the greater good.”

“I don’t know, Beast Boy,” Robin said. “They told me that they were eventually planning on breeding them. So that they’d have some to...experiment on.”

Beast Boy instantly perked up. He caught a glimpse of Raven in his peripheral, who drew a finger across her throat.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, swallowing hard. “I see your point.”

Starfire was looking down at the floor. She had been for most of the meeting.

“Is something wrong, Star?” Robin asked, looking over at her.

She met his eyes, but she still seemed a little distraught. “Why did you not tell us sooner?”

Robin rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I just...wasn’t sure they were really related. And I guess I’m still now a hundred percent sure.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to give you all anything more to worry about.”

“So...what should we do?” Raven asked, also breaking her silence. But for her, silence through an entire meeting was pretty normal.

Robin bit his lip. “Well...that’s just it. I don’t know that there really is anything we can do differently.” He furrowed his brow, deep in thought. “All I’m saying is to keep on your toes. Unlike regular missions, if another one of these attacks happens, it might be something we can anticipate. And if we can predict it, we might be able to shut down before it really gets off the ground. Being even just half a step ahead of the game could save lives.”

“Don’t worry, Robin,” Beast Boy grinned, leaping up to his feet. “I got eyes like a hawk and ‘m quiet as the mouse he eats for breakfast.” He started to take a step forward to clasp a hand on Robin’s shoulder. But as soon as his foot hit the ground, a sharp pain shot up his leg and he started to wobble. Beast Boy crashed forward, his left arm slamming into the edge of the table on the way down. The whiz of a neglected hot wheels car faded as it zipped under the couch.

“Beast Boy! Are you the alright?” Starfire started with real concern in her voice.

Cyborg was busy looking under the couch to try and find the source of his fall.

“Eughhh...” he groaned, sitting up. He looked up at the table, where his half empty can of root beer had finished itself off. Beast Boy grit his teeth as he watched the sugary liquid crawl to every corner of the table--and Robin’s map.

Robin just stood there for a moment, looking down at it. He sighed, then hesitantly reached out and lifted the sticky brown paper from the table, watching as the excess root beer tricked off of it. “I guess I’ve made my point.”

“At...least it didn’t get on the carpet?” Beast Boy said, on his knees now. But that was a lie. It was on the carpet too.

“We’re doomed,” Raven said from the other side of the couch, rubbing her temples.

Beast Boy wasn’t sure why, but this time, Raven’s offhand remark actually stung--even more so than Robin’s.

But before anyone had time to say anything else, the room suddenly went dark. A blaring noise cut through the air. The TV flashed from suburban homes to a complex status report screen, showing a grid map of the city honed in on a specific location—the West Regional Bank. In the bottom left, a popup window began to stream security camera footage, showing several shadowy figures running down a hallway. One stopped for only a second, pointing a gun at the camera, which consequently short circuited and faded to static.

Without a word, Robin started running. Starfire and Cyborg followed close behind.

Raven sighed, as if she really weren’t in the mood, but turned to follow as well.

Beast Boy looked back up at the TV screen quickly. “I never even got to see which house they picked,” he mumbled to himself.

“Beast Boy!” Robin’s voice echoed down the hall.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he yelled back, as he begrudgingly turned to bring up the rear. The sidekick slot, they called it. Beast Boy sighed as he took off. He’d been ending up there a lot lately.

#teen titans #bbrae #bbrae fanfiction #beast boy #raven #dc

51 notes · View notes

katalyna-rose · 7 years ago

Text

The Journey of a Soul Chapter One

I spent some time editing as a way to calm myself a bit between the wake and the funeral, and I was writing while waiting for my connecting flight, so now I think this is finally ready to post. I introduced Salshira as a concept a while back but I was very slow getting substantial content written for her due to a lot of reasons but mostly my need to write commissions instead of my own work because I’m just that poor. I couldn’t focus on commissions if my life depended on it during this whole trip, so here’s the official introduction of Salshira’s story. Please enjoy!

~3,100 words, under the cut

Read on AO3

The night felt alive, more so than usual. It was a good night for a walk, despite the humidity. A full moon hung heavy in the sky and she was sure all the crazies were out to play. She wasn't one of them, hadn't been since before she was of legal age. But who had to know that she'd gotten it all out of her system before she was supposed to? It didn't matter. She walked into the forest, if it could be called that, that bordered the apartment complex she called home. Well, for the past two years, at least. Maybe for one more, but that itch was coming back.

The night was dark, darker there because there weren't any street lights of any kind, but she knew these paths, had walked them in day and night both. This forest was no stranger to her and it welcomed her into its embrace as she contemplated where she might move next.

It always happened the same way, her wanderlust. She'd be on her way home from work and find herself procrastinating. Stopping at shops or for a snack or just to walk around so she wouldn't have to go home yet. Driving in her car, she'd start to get the urge whenever she saw a highway sign for somewhere far away to just get on that road and drive and drive until she couldn't drive anymore and see where she ended up. But that wasn't a practical way to move to from place so she never gave in to those urges. But that was how she knew when it was time to move again.

Maybe someday she would go somewhere and never get that urge again, but somehow she sort of doubted it.

She sighed heavily and leaned against her favorite tree, an ancient and gnarled willow that had done her many favors. She patted the bark affectionately and loosely braided a few dangling branches near her for something to do with her hands.

“What do you think, is it time to leave the country?” she asked the tree, smiling up at the branches. “I'm thinking Asia. What do you think about Asia?” A breeze blew gently past and she closed her eyes and smiled, the scent of summer much nicer in the presence of her friend. “Europe, then? I've been thinking about Finland. But I'm not sure I'm crazy about being so cold.”

This time instead of a breeze a sudden gale of wind almost knocked her off her feet. She gasped and choked on the sheer force of air, stumbling to catch herself before she fell. That was not normal and she gazed around in fright as the willow branches whipped at her face. She'd never see anything until she got out from under the tree. She almost suspected a helicopter maybe as she struggled through the tangled mass of branches, except that she didn't hear it and no way would there be one this close to her. She was still puzzling through what could be happening when she finally managed to fight her way out of the tree and found herself falling.

“Fuck! Fucking shit fuck fuck fuck!” she shouted on the way down, until it occurred to her that she was going to die if she managed to get out that many expletives without touching anything solid. Wind rushed past her ears and she started to shriek. None of this existed where she'd been standing. There was no cliff she could have fallen off in the middle of the city. There was no possible way that this could be happening. Yet she was shrieking as she fell and fell and fell and she was definitely going to die when she hit the bottom. There was no way that she wasn't.

Except there was no bottom and she didn't know what finally broke her fall because she couldn't see anything and couldn't feel anything and there was nothing for a long time except her harsh breaths and her pounding heart.

Until there was pain. And then that pain became all there was. She screamed again, convulsed, tried to escape it but there was no way out, no purchase to cling to. There was nothing but the pain. Her bones made an awful noise as they rubbed against each other, cracked and moved and reformed and then cracked again. Her face split apart and reformed and her ears fell off and regrew. And then her left arm was on fire. It started in her palm and she screamed as it traveled up her arm all the way to her shoulder but no other part of her caught fire. Panic was going to engulf her and if she could breathe through the pain she'd be hyperventilating.

And then it was gone. She ached all over, worse even than when her fibromyalgia was kicking her ass, but the grinding in her bones and the tearing of her skin and the awful agony in her arm were only a memory. She had a moment to just breathe, and then she was falling again.

She screamed and clawed for anything to hold on to, but there was nothing, nothing, and then there was a light at her feet and then before she could react she slammed back into reality, broken stone under her hands and knees and a choked gasp escaped her and the dim light felt blinding after so much darkness and then she was falling again, but not very far at all, and it was a relief when her head hit the stone ground beneath her and she lost consciousness.

***

The first few moments of consciousness were slow, groggy, like she was swimming through molasses to get to the surface, but when she finally managed to open her eyes she gasped and tried to sit up. The aches in her body took that moment to remind her of their existence, particularly in her back, and when she tried to use her arms to help they wouldn't move. She gave up and laid back, then frowned when her arms still wouldn't move. She looked down at them and found metal shackles around her wrists. Her breaths started to come faster.

“Find Seeker Cassandra and tell her the prisoner is wake!” she heard called from nearby. She looked up, toward the voice, but what she saw made no sense.

Damp stone floors with broken mortar between the blocks, a person dressed in armor on the other side of thick steel bars, no windows and only a few torches to break up the darkness. Where was she?

Shouts came down stairs she couldn't see and she didn't hear them because she stopped listening, wasn't trying. Everything was so loud, so very loud in this place. Was it because of all the stone? She could hear the water trickling down the wall beside her and that was odd, she shouldn't be able to hear that so clearly.

The door to the cell she was apparently in opened with a creaking groan of metal that made her ears hurt and then she was hauled up despite her cry of pain. She was then thrown into the center of the room, told to kneel, and the four people with her drew swords to point at her, of all things. Swords. She blinked at them in confusion, blinked at the room.

It was so clear. There were only a few lights but she could see it so easily, as though it were perfectly lit. She could hear rodents scurrying around the walls and the door far above open and then close. She could hear the whispers of people on the stairs and none of that should have been possible. She could never hear so well, even with her hearing aids! And her contacts never let her see this clearly! What was happening?

It was so strange and she began to panic, and then the pain in her hand returned, muted, more like she was holding a ball of pure static shock in her palm. She gasped and looked down and found that her hand was sparking green. Her hand? It looked different, smaller, slender, but there was the freckle on her knuckle and the curved scar from where the knife slipped while she was making dinner. Three stitches to hold it together, long since healed. The hand was hers, but not. She breathed a little faster, though she tried not to, closing her mouth to breathe through her nose.

Oh shit! That smell! Piss and rotten things and the damp dark and fucking hell she'd never smelled anything like it! She fought to urge to gag, fought the panic that tried to take her, fought for calm she knew she wouldn't find.

Hard, stomping steps on the stone stairs, lighter ones beside them, and then two figures appeared and she gazed up at them in fear. Another sword was drawn, this one brought to her chin.

“Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now,” the one who threatened her demanded, and that voice, those words, no. No, she knew this. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you!”

Now there was no controlling the panic, no way to stop it, and her breaths came faster and faster until they were wheezing from her throat. “No! No, no! This isn't happening, you're not real! You were never real, it was a game!” She was screaming, she knew she was, but that panic had hold of her and she was cold and shaking and yanking at her restraints and the sound bounced and it hurt and her ear twitched and why the fuck did her ear twitch? “It was just a game and I loved it but it wasn't real! You can't be real! No!” The people around her looked spooked but she saw it through hazy vision and she couldn't breathe and there was a call, a name to summon but she couldn't hear it, couldn't see, there was nothing but her breath and the pounding of her heart in her ears and then she returned to blessed blackness.

***

This time she woke slowly from the abyss, like it was trying to hold on to her, wisps of dark shadows trying to keep her unconscious until she pushed past them and forced them to release her. She didn't move this time because she could tell she hadn't truly woken yet. It had to be a dream, this stinky, cold, damp dungeon in a game she loved. It had to be a dream. It wasn't real.

“You are awake,” a soft, lilting voice she knew too well said from beside her. She flinched from it, flinched again from the warm hand, chapped around its calluses, that came to rest on her forehead. That hand felt more real than the stone beneath her back, and she didn't like that. “Be calm, I am only attempting to heal you.” A warm current, at once like water and electricity, softly flowed over her skin, and she flinched away from that alien sensation again with a quiet whimper. It stopped.

“You are not accustomed to healing magic, are you?” he asked as his hand fell away from her skin. She took a deep breath and bit the bullet, opening her eyes to what seemed to be her new reality.

There he was, in glorious Technicolor with all the realistic rendering of reality and full surround sound, her favorite fictional crush. Solas, bald and way more fucking gorgeous than she'd really known he would be. His ears were so sharp she thought they might cut, his jaw really was carved by angels, and his cheekbones could make anyone's knees melt, and that fucking chin was too good to be true. Damn it.

“Not GDL…” she muttered to herself and watched his head tilt to the side. She sighed before he could question her and answered his question. “No, never had healing magic.”

He nodded as though that answered several questions. It probably did. Shit, she had to come up with a story fast. Hey, Solas, let's take a page out of your book, shall we? she thought at him. Vague and always the truth, but only some of it. She could feel an interrogation coming, and she scrambled for her memory of the game, of the fandom she'd been part of, of her accumulated knowledge of this world and a name she could claim as her own because that was definitely coming next. Not her real name, it didn't fit here, didn't even really fit her, so something else.

“What may I call you?” he asked her next, and she wondered if he knew that he all but gave her permission to lie about her name. Probably.

“Salshira,” she told him, a name she'd been using to roleplay with a friend. Oh fuck, her friends… No, no time for that now, those thoughts would only make her panic again.

“A journey of the soul,” he translated, and she was somehow surprised that it translated the same here. Well, no, not if this was her dream. Oh, look, he was wearing the hobo clothes! Amazing. She had the absurd urge to giggle and tried to suppress it. “It seems apt, given the circumstances.”

She hummed to let him know she was listening and just stared at the ceiling so that maybe she wouldn't freak out again. She was probably going to freak out again. Soon. Nah, just breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Panic attacks suck, let's not have another. Even her chest ached now, from the force of her hectic breaths.

“Why were you at the Conclave?” he asked mildly, as though they were having a pleasant chat over tea. Except Solas hates tea. She couldn't suppress the slightly hysterical giggle this time. She cleared her throat awkwardly right after.

“I don't know,” she told him, and it felt more like the answer to everything than this specific question. Was she at the Conclave? Where did she fall out of that portal? Or did she? Was she dreaming? Was it real? It felt oddly like her memories were from long ago and the only thing that was real was this moment. But that was probably just the shock.

“You don't? Why not?” His voice was so gentle at all times and he was oddly good at this, but it made her want to scream.

“No, I don't! I don't remember!” she cried, rolling onto her side away from him. Follow the narrative, she told herself. Like it was that easy. She would be expected to fight, wouldn't she? Fuck.

For a while there was only the crackling of torches and the trickling of water and the stench of the dungeon. He didn't try to ask more and she was grateful for the reprieve. She needed a story, needed to remember the story she was given in the game, but mostly she just needed to try to process the fact that this was either the most realistic, most lucid dream she'd ever had, or she'd somehow fallen through a portal into Thedas.

“I will leave you to rest, Salshira,” Solas said, and she heard him get to his feet to leave. He was so quiet, just the slight rustling of cotton and wool clothing, and she shivered her discomfort because she shouldn’t have been able to hear it. Her hands were still in those awful manacles but she managed to lift one to touch the spot behind her ear where her hearing aid should have rested, but instead of touching her scalp beneath her shaved hair she just met more ear. And more ear. And still more ear. She finally found the end of it and had to bite her lip to suppress her shriek at the fact that her ear was pointed. Oh, what the fuck? Her industrial piercing was still intact, moved up the length of her now stupidly long ear, but there was the little silver bar she’d had for years. Curiously, she touched her eyebrow and found the little curved metal bar there, too. Did she still have all her piercings, even though her ear had changed shape? What the fuck…

Finally, she got around to touching the back of her ear where the bulk of her hearing aid was supposed to rest. She liked the ones she had, they were a dark red that complimented her skin and her style. But instead of finding the tiny device, she found a slightly raised bit of skin, a slightly different texture from the rest of it. Had her hearing aid melted into her flesh? Ew. Then why could she hear so clearly? Apparently all that breaking and reshaping of bones might have actually done something to her, and for the first time it occurred to her to look down at her body.

In addition to the new elongated ears and oddly slender fingers, she now had an abnormally slender body. She’d always been a bit chubby, just an accident of genetics, with wide shoulders and wide hips. But now she was skinnier than anyone she’d ever met, and the world sort of tilted for a moment, making her glad she was lying down. It took a few minutes of deep breathing, pushing back another panic attack, before she realized that her newly slender body was actually about the same shape, proportionally. Her bones had shrunk but she was still her-shaped. Hips and shoulders wider than her waist, big tits, thick thighs, strong calves. It was all somewhat familiar, at least. Just narrower and without the padding she’d had most of her life. In fact, she was oddly muscular. Not buff, but stronger than she’d been. What the fuck? No, she was saying that too much it. Or thinking it, whatever. Reality was warping again and she was worried she was about to fall back into hysterics.

No, she couldn’t afford to. She had to keep calm. A story, she needed a story. Follow the narrative, sure, but what else? The narrative certainly didn’t cover everything, did it? She’d have to fill in the blanks. There would be personal questions, more than there’d been in the game. Less exposition, more personal stuff, questions she needed to think of answers to. Well, maybe she could deflect most of them for the time being. But not forever.

Forever? Was she stuck here forever? In Thedas? In a game? Was it even a game? Shit, more questions without answers…

#katalyna writes #mgit #salshira #long fic #idk how to tag this chapter so use your imagination #i'm tired okay i just got off a plane #planes give me headaches #i didn't know that until this month

13 notes · View notes