#*❈ ‣ isn’t that her shadow on the wall? — ( v. alternate )

[cagesings]

 @angelsweeps  /  riff  sent:  “you’re  the  best  thing  to  have  ever  happened  to  me.”

 it's  difficult  to  smile  at  him  in  the  doorway.  though,  it's  difficult  not  to  smile  even  as  the  corners  of  her  lips  waver  and  part  with  each  yawn.  staying  awake  this  long  to  be  able  to  see  her  husband  is  a  surprise  to  herself.  the  past  almost  eight  and  a  half  months  were  long,  to  say  the  least.  each  day  lasted  forever  and  was  shorter  than  the  last.  it  was  less  than  a  year  ago  that  they  found  out  they're  having  a  baby,  yet  it  feels  like  it's  been  at  least  a  decade.  especially  after  today  when  she  couldn't  fall  asleep  and  eventually  woke  him  up.  the  baby  coming  early  scared  her.  johanna  still  doesn't  feel  prepared  even  as  their  daughter  lays  in  her  arms.  

 ❝  you  should  find  a  better  thing,  then,  ❞  she  mumbles,  unable  to  raise  her  voice  any  louder.  ❝  come  here.  we  have,  um,  we  have  a  little  girl.  if  that's  alright.  ❞  the  last  words  sweep  through  as  habit.  no  matter  what,  they  have  a  daughter.  they  can't  change  that.  the  moment  they  laid  the  baby  on  her  chest  while  she  was  shrieking  and  flailing  her  little  arms  in  protest  of  coming  from  such  a  safe  place  to  joining  a  too  bright  and  scary  room.  johanna  can't  admit  now  that  having  a  little  girl  scares  her.  she  knows  she  should  hope  for  a  healthy  baby  --  that's  the  most  important  of  all  --  yet,  a  boy  she  can  protect.  girls  don't  have  that  same  luxury.  ❝  we  don't  even  have  a  name  for  her.  ❞

[cannotfly]

@o1dmoney's s.weeney t.odd says, ❛ you will always fall in love, & it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast. ❜

she thinks of bloodied throats and razors and haunting adoration. as a girl, she wondered if people could really fall in love so fast. as a woman just trickling out of girlhood, she is unsure. people describe love as a sort of falling. off a cliff. off the highest level of saint paul's. as one slips, they can admire the beauty of the cathedral: the spires and the marble. as people fall, do they admire the beauty around them? do they take a closer look at the curve of their lover's back and ache to touch their cheek? it felt that way with anthony. one breathless moment and she heel failed her; she was drowning. and she never wanted to inhale again.

anthony called her " angel " once. johanna laughed until she realized he was serious. how silly, she thought, as she laid her head on his chest, for one such as him to call her an angel. anthony has wings and a halo. he sings praises to god while playing a lyre. it is those wings, those melodies, that swept her up from the ground. someone can save another from falling, but nothing can save them from a slit throat.

❝ is that how you felt when you met my mother? ❞ my mother. never his wife. she is still wrapping her head around the idea that they idolize the same martyr. the woman johanna imagines as mother is both saint and sinner. marked by sin. bound for hell. growing her feathered angel wings. she hates her today, tomorrow, she is begging god to send her back. is that what it's like to have a mother? ❝ did it feel the same way as when you slit the judge's throat? ❞

[cannotflyarc]

@luckhissoul sent: we’re safe now. you’re safe now.

then why does her heart pound in her ears? why can't she stop looking over her shoulder every other minute? she clasps her hands over her ears, trying to push the world away. it always takes her a moment to recover from a nightmare. this is why she doesn't fall asleep. it makes her feel like a small child on the edge of her parent's bed, adjusting her weight on each foot as she waits for them to realize that she is in need of comfort. no one has ever made an effort to tell her that she's alright before. ( it feels nice. . . oh, it helps her heart to slow down. )

❝ how far away from london are we again? ❞ how far away from the judge are we? johanna tries to swallow. the empty air she breaths in stings her dry throat. ❝ we're far. we're, um, how many miles? ❞ her cheeks burn, but she doesn't turn herself into a stuttering mess, trying to assure mr. cauthon not to worry about it. memories haunt her and it feels like this is the only way she can escape from this ghost.

[raionmimi]

Wait, how the fuck is Titania a component of Kingprotea if...SHE DOESN'T EXIST?!?!

Hold on, I just had a thought, and while typing this, I came up with an extremely crack theory that is too insane to actually occur (but it's fun to me so I'm tellin' y'all anyways). I remember I talked about it at the time of the event, but in the Oni Land event with Magical Girl Shuten, a lot of the servants that were wandering around there were not actually real. They were created through counterfeit means, and they were basically acting more like a wonky "fanon" version of themselves

One of those servants was Medb, and Da Vinky analyzed it saying she was a counterfeit made of the fakey fake Kamuy's Gold. So she was more akin to a shadow servant. The real Medb was there on a date with Alter Cú

So, it's a possibility that may or may not have been foreshadowing an alternate Medbface that acts really different than what how she actually was. Knocknarea might not be summonable, but maybe someone else is

Now, here's where we put on our tinfoil hats, and go into LB6 part 3 spoilers from what's been datamined and go off the walls real quick with something that is obv so so wrong but still would've been a cool as a twist while I'm hyped up on caffeine before bed

We also know now from Oberon's profile that Titania was "created" with Mab, Diana, and Titan. But all psuedofaces need a base vessel, and while it would be easy to forge a fake servant, when you can use a faerie to create a changeling-esque servant?

Now, who would be the most compatible to pull of such a feat and merge with Mab, a fae that Knock happens to be a descendent of and parallels her story just enough? Combine that with the fact that Knock is dead, but maybe the wine has a similar story as Romeo and Juliet's poison...? Also that fae are apparently able to see different worlds and can cross them at will as Spriggan, the rancid rantsona Conchobar-vibe changeling has apparently proved.

If anything, Titania isn't real, she's just an artificially made servant that should not exist. Since Oberon V was yeeted into the void, and the Lost Belt was destroyed, it's a wonder who actually created her. Did he do it beforehand? Did he have his insects do it? Does Oberon V create her in Chaldea? Who knows

[you-have-made-a-fatal-error]

the case for a kapu cave easter egg

(for the case for a shadow ranch easter egg go here for p 1 and here for p 2)

as is the case with SHA we have an achievement:

and an egg listed in the developer box (this time in the ‘Inventory’ tab):

and we also have outside confirmation from the amateur sleuth blog c.2014 that there were plans to include easter eggs when the game was in development. but where does that leave us now?

first, let’s recap what the amateur sleuth blog covered - I took the time to check this out myself too. what can i say, it’s been a long pandemic. (I write as though this wasn’t the type of shit I was up to when we were allowed to do things like ‘go outside’ and ‘see people’).

the amateur sleuth blog noted that the egg might be connected to the trinkets at the immersion center and/or the lockers at the hilihili

the ‘trinkets’: all the non-essential things you can buy with your big island bucks (hula doll, coconut monkey, ukulele) AND the alternate prizes from the wiki-tiki game (key chain and ‘unlucky’ volcanic rock). (note: there is a seperate sassy detective award ‘Trinket Tycoon’ in the games files too, which suggests that trinkets and easter eggs might be different things, but that’s not confirmed)

the lockers: the employee info on dr craven’s tablet  includes the following listings which seem suspicious/promising:

but i’ve opened their lockers - and all the other ones - with no success. (note: the combo for locker 16 is not listed correctly in game. the correct combo is 2-7-6-4).

if you check the box next to the egg listing in the dev box it does show up in your inventory, at which point you can do the ctrl + v thing from dog, idk if there are any interesting messages to be had

--

so where does that leave us?

I want to do back to the Easter_Egg listed in the dev box inventory list. it’s interesting that most of the list is in alphabetical order, and that the potential egg is one of a few exceptions. they are: 1. nancy’s case file (picked up frm nancy’s desk at the start of the game) 2. Egg of Mystery 3. the ‘nose ring’ that unlocks the teeth in kapu cave (taken from quigley’s backpack) 4. melted shave ice (happens if frank or joe has a shave ice in their inventory for too long) 5. the eyedropper from QK’s lab setup - this never enters the inventory (you get an empty-but-clickable inventory box if you add it using the dev box), but nancy uses it when identifying the moth larvae’s food source 6. QK’s tape recorder 7. the number cubes from the kapu cave puzzle (also do not show up in inventory) it’s interesting, but do i know what it means? nope, sure don’t. likewise, no clue if/how it’s significant that entries 1->4 on this list are alphabetized while 5->7 are not.

I’ve also wondered if the easter egg is tied to the mystery lever in the room behind the fertilization station at the hilihili

while the left and right levers trigger lights in the little plant cells along the back wall, the one in the center triggers nothing but a very unpleasant audiofile called “PigSqueel.his” - but I haven’t been able to trigger the egg with it either.

one more point before I finish up, there are definitely unused bits and pieces within CRE’s video and audio files. there are dialogue bits between nancy and the hardy boys that mention taking and sending photos of vegetation near the frass traps and the carved face in kapu cave- though these bits were recorded, nancy can’t even take pictures using her phone in this game. and then there’s this from the developer box ‘Events’ tab:

a crossbow?? what crossbow??? I’ve gone through the audio and video files and haven’t found a trace of one.

maybe the easter egg was just one more thing that didn’t make it into the final product? and yet it would be the only thing on the inventory list that isn’t.

for the record i have tried checking off every item on the ‘Events’ list and none of them caused an egg to pop into my inventory. 

for now, it seems the existence or non-existence of the kapu cave eater egg apparentely remains a mystery.

[cagesings]

 @angelsweeps  /  riff  sent:  “  you  look  too  beautiful  right  now  ,  it’s  too  dangerous  to  make  direct  eye  contact  .  ”

 ❝  i  am  completely  naked  and  in  the  shower  right  now.  ❞

 fingers  tug  the  curtain  up  to  her  chest  as  she  looks  at  her  husband  with  raised  brows.  locking  the  door  is  always  difficult  for  her.  the  final  thud  of  the  lock  twisting  into  place  brings  back  too  many  memories  for  her  to  be  able  to  do.  it's  a  miracle  their  front  door  gets  locked  at  night.  it  isn't  johanna's  doing  when  she  tries  to  twist  the  knob  in  the  morning  and  finds  that  it's  stuck.  the  bathroom  door  is  no  different.  she  can't  lock  herself  in  a  place  where  she  feels  the  most  exposed.  though,  she  hadn't  told  riff  not  to  come  in  like  she  had  for  the  first  year  or  so  of  their  marriage.  they've  done  worse  things  than  simply  exist  in  each  other's  sight  nude  before.  

 though,  she  had  instinctively  turned  the  water  off  upon  hearing  him  enter,  the  scent  of  lilac  still  wavers  through  the  air  from  her  shampoo,  something  she  takes  notice  of  upon  taking  a  deep  breath.  can  she  continue  bathing  now?  or  are  they  going  to  stand  here  staring  at  each  other  (  apparently,  riff  can't  even  make  direct  eye  contact  ).  there's  still  the  fear  of  dropping  the  curtain  entirely.  despite  the  fact  that  he  is  her  husband  and  like  she  thought  before,  they've  done  worse  things  than  this  before.  

 ❝  besides,  you're  wrong.  ❞  johanna  tucks  part  of  the  curtain  under  her  arm  to  keep  a  better  grip  on  it.  ❝  i  am  not  beautiful.  especially  completely  naked  in  the  shower.  you  better  not  be  so  called  unable  to  make  eye  contact  before  your  eyes  are  going  other  places,  rolf  lautmann.  ❞  she's  covered  herself  up  anyway.  ❝  i'm  about  to  turn  the  water  back  on.  ❞

[cannotfly]

@avilionea's t.heodore laurence says, “  i can stay, if you want.  ”

watching the dancers, she almost feels the gentle soothing of the ship. pools of people turning together in a rhythm that she will never be able to master, but instead of the calm sea salt air, she's practically breathless. air too stuffy. all sorts of conversation that she doesn't understand. some soldiers standing in their uniform smell of gunpowder. there are some who are hardly more than boys talking about beating a drum. america's war is her own. it shouldn't touch her. she shouldn't take a breath near it. yet, the more she hears about it the more worry floods her stomach: is it coming to massachusetts? will the laurence's home be converted into an impromptu hospital?

tugging at one of the ringlets across her shoulders, johanna shakes her head. ❝ it's alright, ❞ voice hardly more than a whisper. she misses the ocean. those weeks of freedom where she wandered across the dock and the seagulls above her. the judge warned her of the war on that dock, yet it seemed so much more far away. ( what is it she fears more: the war or her wedding? ) johanna wants to smile, to try to convince mr. laurence to rejoin the group, but all she can manage is a slight quiver. ❝ i'm just not one for dancing. they're doing the schottische now, i think. ❞ not that she can tell hidden away in the corner. she doesn't know one dance from another. ❝ you mustn't let any young lady become a wallflower and i shan't be the reason for it. go and dance. ❞

nevermind the fact that this is their introduction as an engaged couple. no one can expect them to be attached at the waist all night. it's hardly respectable for a couple to spend all night together, especially unmarried, isn't it? she doesn't know how these things work. not really. she manages an actual smile this time. ❝ it really is alright. i don't know anyone anyway. ❞

[cannotflyarc]

@avilionea's t.heodore laurence sent: ‘ i’m not going [out] today. i’m staying home with you. ’

she is not so easily stopped by the sudden inability to swallow or a chill that creeps up despite how many shawls and petticoats she layers. perhaps it is sheer stubbornness, which isn't awfully becoming of a wife though it is difficult to erase that from her now that he's across the ocean. mostly though, johanna finds herself motivated by fear. she doesn't want to be locked up again. body aching, she sits in the parlor fully dressed with two shawls around her shoulders as she attempts to sew in front of the fireplace. she made a promise to herself that she wouldn't get caught, that she wouldn't be shut under lock and key, though it seems she is more obvious than she thought. betsey caught her in the midst of a coughing fit this morning. she must have spread the news among the staff who then informed those she especially didn't want to find out. ( goodness betsey! couldn't she keep her mouth shut? )

laurie proclamation stops her in her pursuits at finishing a project. needle and fabric on her lap, she snaps up at him. ❝ mr. laurence, at the risk of sound like your grandfather, i simply forbid it. you've been locked away in here for far too long. don't force herself to suffer just for the sake of . . . ❞ what is this for? ❝ don't. you should go out and be in the world and --- ❞ what do men his age do? ❝ just live. ❞ a sigh fills her entire chest and leaves her exhausted. johanna picks up her materials, but doesn't continue working. her head has begun to ache. ❝ i do hope your grandfather didn't overhear me, but i meant what i said. i'm perfectly alright, as it is. in fact, i'll likely be going for a walk later today. you better take advantage of the doctor approving you to do things again, mr. laurence. if i hear that you don't, i'll be rather cross. ❞

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XIV

(A/N at the end)

Parts I-XIII:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII Part XIV

James and Matthew were hovering outside the Devil’s Tavern, which presented an august Georgian facade to the mundane eyes and was the site of many a municipal meeting and festivity. Or rather, as Matthew acknowledged, James was the one hovering, conspicuous in his anxiety, while Matthew leaned against the inn’s front wall, smoking a cheroot and gazing upward in the annoying way he did when he was overcome with boredom.

The Devil’s Tavern was the only place left in London that none of their parents knew anything about. Not even Will Herondale knew about his son’s inauspicious lease in the tavern and would therefore be the safest, most logical place for them to conduct their research.

“What time did you tell them to be here?” asked Matthew, still musing at something in the sky. “I do wish you’d stop fidgeting.”

“I told them noon,” said James. “But Christopher is not the most reliable man we know.”

“He is the most reliable when something is in need of exploding or a new specimen needs to be collected,” said Matthew. “Perhaps next time tell him that you have an enchanted box that needs to be unlocked.”

“Does this feel wrong to you?” asked James. “We’re supposed to spend this hour patrolling and we’re hiding in The bloody Devil’s Tavern from our parents.”

“This is, in a sort, patrolling,” said Matthew. “We’re conducting research on how to locate your demon granddad and kill the bastard, but in order to do that, we need to find a way for you to access the shadow realm again or it’s all for not. So, we’re doing our job, just not in the way we’re expected to be doing our job.” Matthew slapped James’s hand away from his hair. “I said stop fidgeting.”

“If we’re caught…” James started but couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. While the four of the Merry Thieves agreed that the risk was worth the reward of defying Charles Fairchild’s newly established rules, the risk still hung over James’s head like an anvil waiting to drop. He’d reassured himself time and time again that ordinary chivalry demanded action and that his indignation had more to do with Charles’s complete need for control than the punishment being fair or responsible.

“Oh for Raziel’s sake, we won’t be,” said Matthew. “We’re trained in being discreet, remember?” Just then the door to the Tavern burst open and a head attired with goggles, poked out.

“I don’t see them,” said Christopher before he turned his head to where James and Matthew were standing. He removed his goggles up into his hair, wiped his face with an emerald scarf, and shoved the door open with his shoulder. “What are you two standing out here for? We’ve been waiting for you in the Devil for nearly twenty minutes. Thought the parentals got a hold of you.”

“You’ve been here the whole time?” asked an exasperated James. “We’ve been waiting… never mind. Get inside, quickly, before someone notices us.”

“I must admit, I’m a bit tempted to see how red my brother’s face can get if he catches us deliberately disobeying him,” said Matthew as the sound of boots clambered up the wooden stairs.

“This coming from the one having a crisis over the thought of being strapped to his brother’s desk,” said James over his shoulder. Christopher laughed ahead of them.

“That was before I witnessed my mother make him cry after threatening to strip us of our marks,” said Matthew.

James paused. “She made him cry?”

“Weep,” said Matthew. “I believe the words ‘yes, Mummy’ were said at least twice.”

“You lie!” said Christopher ahead of them.

“I exaggerate, Kit,” said Matthew as they reached their door, “but I never lie.”

The door burst open like a tightly wound jack-in-the-box as the three boys burst into the room. James walked across the room and took a seat at a small table in the window nook while Matthew made himself comfortable on the long sofa. Christopher met James at the table and busied himself with turning over the pages of an old book.

“Where have you lot been?” asked Thomas from the couch. “We’ve been waiting for you for twenty minutes.”

“They were outside,” said Christopher, examining the pages of the book.

James stood, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to expose his forearms, as he walked to the center of the room. “All right, we have only forty minutes left of our patrol to come up with a plan on how to access the shadow world without the use of my useless power.”

“How’s that coming along?” asked Thomas.

“Am I in the shadow realm?”

“No.”

“That’s how it’s coming along.” He pressed his back against the wall opposite Matthew, Thomas, and Christopher. “It’s never felt like this before. Everything that usually works, isn’t. Chaos. Danger. Pain. Isolation. Even when I feared Lucie and Cordelia were trapped there, I still couldn’t push past this invisible wall.”

“Invisible wall?” asked Christopher.

“Yes,” said James. “That’s what it feels like, an invisible wall blocking me.”

“Perhaps you need more fiber in your diet,” grinned Matthew.

James squinted at him, unsure if he was joking, and decided to carry on without acknowledging  the statement. “We need to start researching a way into the shadow realm that doesn’t involve my ability.”

The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor turned everyone’s attention towards Christopher as he shoved himself away from the table. “I’ve read about this,” he stated, excitedly. “Pockets. Uh… uh… portals they were called, but they’re like pockets in our realm to other realms. You experienced something like it at the cemetery which allowed Cordelia to access the realm after you and for Matthew and Lucie to draw you back.”

“Brilliant,” said Matthew. “Now that we have an access point, let’s come up with a plan to kill the bloody bastard.”

“Well,” said Christopher, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “We don't necessarily have an access point.”

“You just said—“

“Allow him to finish, Matthew,” said Thomas, looking like a giant inside the low ceiling room. “Go on, Kit.”

“They move.”

“The pockets?” asked James.

“Yes,” said Christopher, his almost sapphire eyes, enlarged by his lenses, glanced around at the faces staring back at him. “They appear in a spot but only remain for 12 to 24 hours.”

“Brilliant,” grumbled Matthew and slipped lower on the couch.

“Is there any way to track these pockets?” asked Thomas, while watching James stand and pace the floor.

“I cannot recall,” said Christopher. “I read about them in the forbidden section of the library at the academy. I was researching alternative methods of travel and found an extensive research that featured combinations of dimensional manipulation.”

“In English, if you would please,” said Matthew, lolling his head to look at Christopher.

“I am speaking English,” said Christopher. “If you are requesting for me to simplify it for you, then be plain about it.”

Matthew rolled his eyes as Thomas asked, “Do you remember what book it was?”

“Of course.”

“Can it be found in a public library?”

“No.” The boys released a communal exhale.

“Well,” said Matthew as he picked a piece of lint on his jade trousers. “It appears we’re left with piss but no pot.”

“Not necessarily,” said Christopher, stepping forward into the center of the room. His eyes locked on his feet the way they often were when deep in thought. “There is someone who might be in possession of a copy or at least has the authority to access one.”

James and Christopher met eyes as they both came to the same solution at exactly the same moment. A smile curved on James’s lips and he chided himself for not thinking of it sooner before allowing disappointment to consume him.

“Are you going to leave us in suspense?” asked Matthew.

“Magnus,” said James. “We’re going to see Magnus.”

                                                             . . .

The girl who came through Cordelia’s bedroom door the next morning did not seem strong enough to carry the tray on which rested a cup of tea in a florid porcelain cup and a heavy jug of hot water for the washstand. She was hollow in the cheeks and narrow shouldered, her hair pulled back mercilessly into a single braid. Her dress and apron hung loosely, and her boots looked comically laced to such scrawny ankles.

She hummed to herself as she set the tray on the floor, transferred the jug to the washstand and brought the tea, her lips clamped in concentration to keep the cup from wobbling on its gilded saucer.

“Hello,” said Cordelia, her voice rough from lack of use. “Can you please tell me where I am?”

The girl looked up, her eyes expanded as the tea fell from her hands and shattered on the floor.

Cordelia gasped, as the girl let out a scream so loud, she nearly had to cover her ears. “SHE’S AWAKE! OH BY THE ANGEL, MISS CARSTAIRS IS AWAKE! COME SEE…”

Cordelia grimaced as she braced herself on her elbows and lifted herself up. Every muscle felt as if she’d went to bed sore and hadn’t used them again for several days. The light in the room seemed aged, as if it were late afternoon or early evening. She was used to the pale dawn hours, the birds’ thin choir accompanying her waking thoughts. Curiously, she did not feel guilty for sleeping so late into the morning. The room felt familiar to her. Not the emerald green wallpaper with gold etchings or the leather winged armchair, nor the desk with the stack of books resting closest to the window. A smell in the air reminded her of something. Wherever she was, she felt safe and glad to be there.

“CARSTAIRS IS AWAKE… HURRY! QUICK!” the girl’s voice carried down the other direction of the hall along with the shuffling sound of her absurd boots.

Cordelia shifted to swing her legs out from under the heavy covers when a sharp pain in her side stole her breath.

“Best to stay put,” said a familiar voice by the door. “Until one of the Brothers gets here.”

“Alastair,” cried Cordelia. “Finally, a familiar face. Where am I?”

“The London Institute,” said Alastair, as he stepped into the room in white pin striped pajamas. A wooden crutch tucked under his left armpit as he hobbled on a bandaged foot towards her. “Where we’ve been for the last week or so.”

“Alastair,” said Cordelia, looking at his leg. “What’s happened to your leg?”

“Broke it in three different places after being thrown through the air by that demon.” The bed dipped as he sat down beside her. “Don’t fret, sister, it’s nearly healed. The Brothers want me off it while the bones properly set. I should be good as new by next week. How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” She placed her hand on her rib cage and found an extra layer of padding beneath her nightgown. “Week? You’ve said we’ve been here for the last week?”

His dark eyebrows curved in concern as his eyes looked over her face. “Cordelia, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Cordelia thought about the last memory her mind could conjure. The picture looked muddy and weak in her mind. She’s a young girl running through a patch of daisies on a cliff’s edge, but that couldn’t be right. She’s a woman grown now. Another image of London through a carriage window as the moist air off the Thames hit her face. Ice cream dripping down her hand. Dancing under seductive lights with Cortana. James’s hands on her face as he kissed her on a desk. James kissing Grace. Saying goodbye to James.

“I left,” said Cordelia, closing her eyes to stop the memory. “We left, together. We were going to Alicante.”

“Yes,” said Alastair. “Do you remember what happened after? Do you remember the attack?”

“Attack?” asked Cordelia. “No, I don’t remember any attack. What happened?”

Alastair placed his on top of hers. “Maybe we should wait for Uncle to arrive.”

Cordelia gripped his hand in her own. “Alastair, what happened? What attack? Is everyone all right?”

He opened his mouth to answer when footsteps filled the hall and a chorus of people filtered in through the doorway. A sobbing Sona pushed ahead of everyone and enveloped Cordelia in a hug. Her mother felt weak, frail underneath Cordelia’s hands, she could feel the bones protruding from her shoulders and the bumps of her spine through the thick fabric of her dress. Her shoulder bone bumped Cordelia’s chin as she peered over it to see her Uncle Jem, dressed in his robes and quiet as a statue against the wall. In front of him stood Tessa Gray beside her husband Will. She watched the doorway, hoping and dreading, for James to walk through.

When he did not, she closed her eyes to stop the burn behind them and the pit that grew ever wider inside of her stomach.

“My darling, are you all right?” Sona asked, caressing Cordelia’s cheeks and hair. Cordelia noted the hollowness in her mother’s cheeks.

“I think so,” said Cordelia. “Alastair was just telling me about an attack?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No,” said Cordelia and looked to her Uncle. “I don’t remember anything past leaving the Institute with Alastair for Alicante.”

“It’s not uncommon for some memory loss to occur after the sort of head injuries she endured,” said a quiet voice inside of her mind, but everyone else seemed to hear it too as they all turned to Brother Zachariah. “With some rest and recollection of events, the memories may return to her.”

Sona sat on the bed beside Cordelia, their hands still joined. “You were attacked by a demon. It poisoned you with a barb in your rib cage. When Lucie and James found you, you were nearly dead from your injuries.”

Cordelia pressed her hand harder against her ribs until she felt the sharp pain of a recent injury under the pressure. “Why did it attack our carriage? Demons don’t normally just attack a random carriage.”

“We were hoping that you could tell us,” said Will across the room. “We’ve tried to locate it, but it left no other traces of itself except for the attack against you and your brother. No other sightings. No suspicious activity. Alastair can only recall up to the point of being thrown by the thing, but you were still conscious at that point. We thought maybe you killed it before succumbing to your injuries, but the lack of demon blood at the scene suggests otherwise.”

Cordelia closed her eyes and attempted to stumble through her memories again. She recalled arriving with Alastair to the Herondale manor. Alastair walking her to the door with an umbrella to shield her from the pouring rain. She was trembling at the thought of what she was about to do, of what she was about to lose. Alastair offered to go in with her, but she declined.

She couldn’t recall who answered the door or how she got up the stairs to the library where James often hid away from the world in the comfort of his father’s collection of books. She couldn’t recall knocking, but she remembered him answering the door and the orange glow of the firelight that matched the color of his eyes. She remembered the relief those eyes when it was she he opened the door to.

She could vaguely remember the words that were said, or when she left him, or finding herself back in the carriage with Alastair, but the look in his eyes when she said goodbye would remain with her forever.

“No.” She cleared her throat. “No, I’m sorry. The last thing that I remember is leaving here after saying goodbye to James.”

“It’s all right,” whispered Sona as she stroked Cordelia’s hair. “You’ve only just woken up. Perhaps after you’ve had something to eat and talked with Lucie, or James, something will return to you.”

The feeling of something she needed to do sparked at the mention of her old friend. She needed to talk to Lucie.

“Lucie stepped out for the morning,” said Tessa, eyeing Cordelia sympathetically, “but she’s due to return any moment. She’ll be overjoyed to know that you’re awake.”

“And James?” Sona asked.

“On patrol,” answered Will, with a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder. “He won’t be back until this evening.”

Cordelia looked away, at her brother’s bandaged leg, at the tear in the hem of her nightgown, at the rune etched into the top of her bare foot, as the memories of her last conversation with James crashed into her.

“I wanted so badly to marry you,” she said. “But a year with you, as your wife, is not possibly long enough.”

The thought of speaking to James after their last conversation left a stone in Cordelia’s stomach, but perhaps it was for the best if she were to be staying in London while they both mended. If any one in the room knew of what transpired between James and Cordelia that last night, they weren’t letting on. Rubbing at the wound on her ribs, she searched the faces around her and found only concern and sympathy looking on at her. A wood pigeon, always the cello in the orchestra of birdsong, gave out its low double coo from the open window, like a beat from a large drum, which began to vibrate in her chest, and she thought it would have been very pleasant just to have remained asleep. 

(Author’s Notes: Hello again everyone! I’m back. I hope you all are doing well. It’s been truly a strange couple of weeks dealing with the aftermath of the death of my beautiful niece (God, that will never get easier to say or write), but we are mending as a family and working towards moving forward through the grief. I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with my sister and my nephew, just trying to keep them busy, but the past few weeks have settled down a little bit allowing me a chance to write and get back into a few projects that I have in the works. Thank you all for the kind words, and well-wishes, and your patience. I’m really excited to be back writing and posting again. I hope you enjoyed this installment. If you did please reblog so others can enjoy it too, please give it a like, hit me with a lovely comment, and follow along with me. Next installment is coming Sunday 9/6.)

[thelittlestcheshire]

if it weren't for you meddling kids...

A collection of seven playlists about my character’s inner-muse dynamics with one another.

playlist i: you’ll always be the one i love the most

a general balo and ches playlist

team (lorde) [not very pretty, but we sure know how to run things. livin' in ruins of a palace within my dreams. and you know, we're on each other's team] // drag me down (one direction) [all my life, you stood by me when no one else was ever behind me. all these lights, they can't blind me, with your love, nobody can drag me down] // brave honest beautiful ( fifth harmony ft. meghan trainor ) [don't go and waste your precious time, with all the nonsense on your mind. no, don't criticize yourself no more, you got a smile worth fighting for]  // told you so (little mix) [girl, just come 'round mine tonight i've got wine and make-up wipes.  i'll hold you (i'll hold you),. we can put the kettle on, talk 'bout how he's not the one. i told you but, i'm never gonna say i told you so] //  friends (jasmine thompson) [who knows, who cares what we're gonna be. if you're near, i'm there. it will always be home, wherever we go.] // we belong (pat benatar) [we belong to the light, we belong to the thunder. we belong to the sound of the words, we've both fallen under. whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better; we belong, we belong, we belong together.] // safe & sound (taylor swift ft. the civil wars) [i remember tears streaming down your face when i said i'll never let you go. when all those shadows almost killed your light. i remember you said, “don't leave me here alone.” but all that's dead and gone and passed tonight] // buzzcut season (lorde) [cola with the burnt-out taste, i'm the one you tell your fears to. there'll never be enough of us] // unsteady (x ambassadors) [if you love me, don't let go. hold, hold on, hold on to me ‘cause i'm a little unsteady, a little unsteady] // i’ll keep you safe (sleeping at last) [don't be, don't be afraid. god knows, these mistakes will be made, but i promise you i'll keep you safe] // tell her you love her - acoustic (echosmith) [when she says she needs you, tell her you need her too. you tell her clearly, speak what your heart wants you to. tell her she's lovely, always tell her the truth. when she says she loves you, tell her you love her too] // nightingale (demi lovato) [oh, nightingale, you sing to me i know you're there. 'cause, baby, you're my sanity. you bring me peace, sing me to sleep]  // deep end (ruelle) [what can i do when it's pulling me under, pulling me underneath?] // hold your breath (ruelle) [hold your breath, don't let go. i feel it coming]  // my love won’t let you down (little mix) [we can sit on the edge of your bed, tell me all of the fears in your head. and i'll sing you your favourite song ‘til the pain and all the tears are all gone] // rainbow connection (sleeping at last) [have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? i've heard them calling my name. is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors? the voice might be one and the same.]

playlist ii: #squadgoals (aka balo and ches are sharing the aux):

8+ hours of music the girls listen to when they hang out, please remember to shuffle!

playlist iii: and if you were drowned at sea i’d give you my lungs so you could breathe

a general balo and zander playlist

shaking heads (foxes) [and if i turn around, there'll be no light. i know the danger, but it's alright. pick up the light and keep it, darling. you know that i can tell] // bottom of the river (delta rae) [hold my hand, ooh, baby, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river] // hey brother (avicii) [hey, brother; do you still believe in one another? hey, sister; do you still believe in love? i wonder.] // i hope you dance (lee ann womack) [i hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean. whenever one door closes, i hope one more opens. promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance...] // my wish (rascal flatts) [i hope you never look back but you never forget all the ones who love you and the place you left. i hope you always forgive and you never regret, and you help somebody every chance you get.] // echo (foxes) [look into my eyes, do you see something to defend? spinning in the lights, will i grow old before i die?]  // brother (kodaline) [if i was dying on my knees, you would be the one to rescue me. and if you were drowned at sea i'd give you my lungs so you could breathe] // get your wish (porter robinson) [so tell me how it felt when you walked on water, did you get your wish? floating to the surface, quicker than you sank. idol, idol] // icu {madison’s lullaby} (demi lovato) [sometimes i can see myself in the little things you do but i'm not afraid that you'll lose your way. 'cause i believe in you. you're gonna be the one who's strong enough, who can overcome, anything in your way]

playlist iv: i’m afraid of what i’m risking if i follow you

a general ches and zander playlist

into the unknown (panic at the disco) [what do you want? 'cause you've been keeping me awake. are you here to distract me so i make a big mistake? or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me, who knows deep down i'm not where i'm meant to be?] // carry you (ruelle & fleurie) [you are not alone, i've been here the whole time singing you a song. i will carry you] // bud like you (ajr) [kickin' in the basement, kickin' in the basement, hatin' all the same things too. if i need a pick-me-up, would you come and pick me up? i could really use a bud like you] // wilson {expensive mistakes} (fall out boy) [and when i say i'm sorry i'm late, i wasn't showing up at all. i really mean i didn't plan on showing up at all. don't you, don't you, don't you know i hate all my friends, i miss the days when i pretended. i hate all my friends, i miss the days when i pretended with you] // unpack your heart (philip philips) [show me something the rest never see. give me all that you hope to receive, your deepest regret dies with me] // where do you run (the score) [where do you run when you need to breathe? where do you run when you don't believe? where do you run when you can't face your fears? 'cause every time i run, i run to you] // twin skeleton’s {hotel in nyc} (fall out boy) [and there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on; up above our heads droning on and on and on. keep making trouble 'til you find what you love. i need a new partner in crime and you, you shrug] // maybe idk (jon bellion) [i wonder why i feel short when i know my money’s tall. i wonder why i miss everyone and i still don’t call. i wonder why i can’t run that fast in my dreams] // you are enough (sleeping at last) [you're enough, you're enough, you're enough, you are enough. these little words, somehow they’re changing us. you're enough, you're enough, you are enough. so we let our shadows fall away like dust] // midnight sun (philip philips) [oh my friend, look how time has changed the cracks in our skin. oh my friend, let go of the fear that’s inside your head. so stay strong, live on, and chase the midnight sun]

playlist v: beyond every bend is a long blinding end; the worst kind of pain i’ve known

a ches and zander playlist set during the aftermath of the jack posters with an alternating pov (track 2 is zander, track 3 is ches, etc etc. tracks 1 and tracks 12 are mutual)

the choice (gustavo santaolalla & alan umstead) // burning in the skies (linkin park) [i'm swimming in the smoke of bridges i have burned, so don't apologize i'm losing what i don't deserve] // the good in me (jon bellion) [one temptation sparked this, now i can feel the darkness. it's my own fault, but you had this planned. all of me, you take now, like criminals and shakedowns, yeah, you make me forget who i am] // another brick in the wall, prt. 3 (pink floyd) [i don't need no arms around me and i don't need no drugs to calm me. i have seen the writing on the wall, don't think i need anything at all] // bad blood (taylor swift) [did you think we'd be fine? still got scars in my back from your knives. so don't think it's in the past, these kinds of wounds they last and they last] // no light, no light (florence + the machine) [and i'd do anything to make you stay. no light, no light, no light. tell me what you want me to say. you want a revelation, you wanna get it right. but it's a conversation, i just can't have tonight...] // that won’t save us (against the current) [how did we become so numb? we just let it come undone, and i just started giving up. but that won't save us] // hard to say i’m sorry (chicago) [it's hard for me to say i'm sorry. i just want you to stay. after all that we've been through i will make it up to you, i promise to] // believe (mumford & sons)  [i don't even know if i believe everything you're trying to say to me] // second chances (imagine dragons) [quicker than lightning, whiter than bone. if you can erase it, then i can atone. oh these days, oh these days get heavy. i get older and life fades, but you remain] // swallow my pride (ramones) [loose lips sink ships, they said but isn't it always that way? swallow my pride, oh yeah] // roads untravelled (linkin park) [weep not for roads untraveled, weep not for sights unseen. may your love never end, and if you need a friend there's a seat here alongside me]

playlist vi: it’s mourning in america

a playlist for the luxor trio - balo, ches, and zander

heathens (twenty one pilots) [we don't deal with outsiders very well, they say newcomers have a certain smell. you have trust issues, not to mention, they say they can smell your intentions] // morning in america (jon bellion) [we're secretly out of control, nobody says it. when the class president overdosed, we all pretended tt was rare, it was shocking and all the town was talking. yeah, we're secretly out of control and everyone knows. oh, it's morning in america] // the kids aren’t alright (fall out boy) [and in the end, i'd do it all again. i think you're my best friend. don't you know that the kids aren't al-, kids aren't alright?] // more than words (little mix & kamille) [i find peace in every story you told, i think of you, i'll never be alone. oh, it's true, you know i do. oh, i need you more than words can say. oh, you save me in ways that i can't explain. always been there for me, now i'll do the same] // family (mother mother) [and when you’re standing on the ledge i’ll pull ya down, put you to bed. and if you’re bleeding from the heart i'll come around, and clean it up] // beautiful people (ed sheeran & khalid) [we don't fit in well 'cause we are just ourselves, i could use some help gettin' out of this conversation, yeah. you look stunning, dear, so don't ask that question here. this is my only fear: that we become beautiful people] // immortals (fall out boy) [they say we are what we are but we don't have to be. i'm bad behavior but i do it in the best way. i'll be the watcher of the eternal flame, i'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams. i am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, i try to picture me without you but i can't] // family (the chainsmokers & kygo) [when i am blind, in my mind i swear they be my rescue, my lifeline. i don't know what i'd do if i, if i'd survive my brothers and my sisters in my life, yeah] // walking the wire (imagine dragons) [oh, the storm is ragin' against us now. if you're afraid of falling, then don't look down. but we took the step, oh, we took the leap and we'll take what comes, take what comes] // take it out on you (ruelle) [i don’t wanna take it out, take it out on you, on you. it feels like i'm breaking down, watching my words cut you in two, in two. 'cause you are the only who saves me from myself when everything is caving. don’t wanna take it out, take it out on you, on you, but i do] // from now on (the greatest showman) [and from now on these eyes will not be blinded by the lights. from now on what's waited 'til tomorrow starts tonight. and let this promise in me start, like an anthem in my heart] // long live (taylor swift) [can you take a moment? promise me this: that you'll stand by me forever, but if god forbid fate should step in and force us into a goodbye. if you have children someday, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name] // i hope you’re happy (blue october) [there will be days when you're falling down, there will be days when you're inside out. there will be days when you fall apart, someone else will break your heart. they're never gonna hold you back, i'm always gonna have your back so try to remember that...]

playlist vii: those meddling kids

a playlist for balo, ches, collen, and zander - and their friendship

on my way (phil collins) ['cause there's nothing like seeing each other again, no matter what the distance between. and the stories that we tell will make you smile, oh it really lifts my heart], more than a band (lemonade mouth) [i never knew you could take me so far. i've always wanted the home that you are, the ones i need] // i lived (onerepublic) [hope that you spend your days but they all add up and when that sun goes down hope you raise your cup. i wish that i could witness all your joy and all your pain, but until my moment comes, i'll say...] // i’m gonna be {500 miles} (the pretenders) [if i get drunk, well, i know i'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you. and if i haver, yeah, i know i'm gonna be i'm gonna be the man who's haverin' to you. but i would walk five hundred miles, and i would walk five hundred more just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door] // tongue tied (grouplove) [take me to your best friend's house, ‘goin' 'round this roundabout, oh yeah. oh, take me to your best friend's house; i loved you then and i love you now, oh yeah] // i’ll be there for you (the rembrandts) [no one could ever know me, no one could ever see me. seems you're the only one who knows what it's like to be me. someone to face the day with, make it through all the rest with. someone i'll always laugh with, even at my worst, i'm best with you, yeah] // drag me down (one direction) [if i didn't have you, there would be nothing left, the shell of a man that could never be his best. if i didn't have you, i'd never see the sun, you taught me how to be someone, yeah] // miss americana & the heartbreak prince (taylor swift) [it's you and me, that's my whole world. they whisper in the hallway, “she's a bad, bad girl.” the whole school is rolling fake dice, you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. it's you and me, there's nothing like this, miss americana and the heartbreak prince. we're so sad, we paint the town blue, voted most likely to run away with you] // sharp edges (linkin park) [sharp edges have consequences, i guess that i had to find out for myself. sharp edges have consequences, now every scar is a story i can tell. we all fall down, we live somehow. we learn what doesn't kill us makes us stronger] // family (mother mother) [a motley crew, a rodeo. a goddamn zoo, a circus show. but oh don't you know how it goes, we are all walking each other home] // the story of tonight (hamilton) [raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away - no matter what they tell you. raise a glass to the four of us, tomorrow there’ll be more of us - telling the story of tonight.]

[vegetacide]

TaG: Bloodlines (Part 8.. )

Veg • notables: Any errors in this are strictly my own

Ty to @gumnut-logic and @scribbles97 for the brainstorming help and the encouragement.

Previous:

Part 1 | Part 2 Bit 1 & Bit 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Rating and General warning: Mature content head. If you are not a fan of medical issues of a female nature in relation to pregnancy please proceed with caution.

Characters: Virgil, Kayo, (V/K) 

Location: TaG-verse AU | Tracy Island

E N J O Y

8-8-8

Part 8 -  Susulan

Lady Penelope being true to her word found a wonderful woman who was well liked and sought after and she was one of several that Doctor Coxley had recommended to their Grandmother.  

The tall Haitian by the name of Cecilia had credentials as long as Kayo’s arm and had worked in some of the best kitchens in the world. Several of which had Michelin star ratings due to her amazing contributions and somehow they’d managed to scoop her. 

She was a true marvel and the whole family took advantage of her skills. 

The boys were in heaven and so well fed that often they found themselves all camped out in the living room  or out by the pool in various states of full bellied contended lethargy. Happily stuffed and satiated after a mind blowing meals.  Before long it was like Cecilia had always been there and things in the house seemed to settle down back into some form of normalcy.  

The two weeks following her arrival just seemed to coast by and as previously arranged the date of Doctor Coxley follow-up had come and gone with barely a hitch.. 

His trip had been a simple affair, the boys having been out on a call at the time.  One of their security operatives had shuttled the doc to the island with little fanfare.  

Kayo, though frustrated at being basically bed bound the last few weeks, found herself decidedly nervous.   She was eager to know if the improvement of her condition would be enough to appease the doctor. She’d done research herself as she’d had plenty of time on her hands but she was by no means an expert.

Her pressure was down,  bleeding tampering off to the odd bout of spotting. Energy levels were increasing daily and her appetite was healthy.  She felt better now then she had in a while despite the lingering morning sickness and she was twitching to do something other than staring at the walls all day.    

Grandma had been happy with the results as the forced rest seemed to have helped but there was no telling if she was going to be able to return to some form of duty or not.

Upon the Doctor’s arrival Grandma had shown him to their infirmary where Kayo had been waiting as patiently as she could.     

After a quick but thorough exam her doctor had snapped off his gloves and tossed them in a bin before making a quick note on his data pad.   When he’d turned back,  he’d handed Kayo a towel and given her a hand up from the awkward position she’d had to sit in.

The island medical facilities were top notch for basic injuries but for things of this nature,  not so much.   

“Well, “  He’s begun pushing his glasses up his nose.  “Things are looking good.  The bleeding has for the most part stopped through you may still experience a bit of spotting.  Typical of placenta previa.   

“Baby’s heart rate sounds strong and your weight gain is all within acceptable levels for your age and fitness level.”  

He’d paused as he’d looked over his note.  “I’m pleased to see you’ve taken appropriate measures the last couple of weeks and I do see a marked improvement in your BP but,” he stopped for emphasis.  “It’s still higher than I would like to see it. 

I know you’ve been eager to get back to some sort of normal activity level but I would have to recommend that for the time being you refrain from anything too strenuous.  At this stage of your pregnancy we don’t want to mess around as you still have some twenty odd weeks to go.”

Kayo had been disappointed by the results but she would do whatever needed to be done.  

“Additionally,”  He added, setting the data pad down to make sure he had her full attention. “Going forward I would like to be able to monitor you personally.  Allowing you to come home was the best course of action given the situation at the time but I have my reservation about you not being within east travel distance of a hospital.  It’s quite a hike out here even with access to the type transportation you have at your disposal but given the nature of your pregnancy I strongly recommend you relocate to the mainland.” 

That certainly hadn’t been what she expected and her hand automatically settled on her middle.  “Is there a problem?”  

Doctor Coxley gave her knee a pat.  “Just call me being overly precautious. I would rather have the necessary staff and equipment and not need it than need it and not have it.”  

He’d smiled at her then,  turning to gather up the equipment he’d brought with him. “I’ll advise Doctor Tracy of what we’ve discussed so arrangements can be made sooner rather than later. And I would highly recommend you make the move in the very near future as traveling any later could have detrimental effects that we would like to avoid.”  

He’d left shortly after with directions to call him if she had any further questions.  

It was definitely not what she’d been expecting to hear and her anxiety kicked up a notch. 

The island was a secure haven but the outside world was a different story.  If the media got wind that she was on the mainland and pregnant there would be no way to stop that shit storm that would follow. Their family privacy would be out the window in an instant and the vultures would start circling like that carrion loving garbage eaters they were. 

She’d cursed as she dropped her face into her hands 

“So, “ Virgil said,  stepping from the bathroom with a towel slung low around his hips.  “He wants you to be closer to medical help if need be.”

His wife gave a nod and he leaned a heavy shoulder against the door frame, arms crossing tight over his chest.  

It wasn’t idle that was for sure, security wise it was a nightmare and as for call out the logistics were .. well to say it wasn’t the best was putting it lightly. 

“We’ll talk to Scott and Dad in the morning.  We’ll figure it out somehow.”

Fiddling with the end of her hair, Kayo looked off out the darkened window.  “It’s not going to work with both of us being there.  Two isn’t something you can just park anywhere without it being noticed.  Even on a GDF base eventually it’s going to get noticed.  And what about the pods?”

Brows dipping, Virgil pushed off the door frame.  “What are you saying?”  

She braided and unbraided the end of her hair,  eyes distant and when she flicked her gaze up to him he caught on to her train of thought.   Shaking his head he walked the short distance over to her and crouched at her feet.  

“That is not an option and you know it.”

“Virgil,  we don’t have much of a choice here.  You’re needed here and we can’t just up and move Two and all her gear to the mainland for the next four months.  It’s not logical or safe.  It would be easier to set up a secure location for me.  I can take a small security detail with me. Logistically its a sound option”

Virgil shook his head, taking her hands in his.  “No,  that is not a viable option, Tan. It’s too risky.  Not with us having no idea where your uncle is or what he’s up to.”

“It’s been months since there’s been any sightings or news on him.. Maybe it’s time we stop hiding..”

Shocked, Virgil blinked at her.  Five months earlier she’d thought that not having the baby was a better option than having it because of the Hood and now she was doing a complete about face.  

“Kay, stop.” He gave her hands a squeeze running his thumb over the back of her knuckles. ‘What’s really going on here?” 

She pulled away and got to her feet to walk across the room.  Taking his shirt off the back of a chair she tugged it over her shoulder,  her small frame dwarfed by it and Virgil got a flashback of a morning so many months ago.. One he didn’t care to be reminded of when there had been a real possibility of them not being in the position they were in now.  Like having to make this sort of decision. 

He would take this though over any other option as difficult as things were at the moment the alternative was not something he even wanted to fathom. 

Her shoulders shrugged and she turned back to face him.  “I’m just trying to not.. I don’t know...”  Her shoulders slumped.  “It’s just that things are so complicated and having to worry about ‘him’ all the time is exhausting.”  

Going to her,  he wrapped her in his arms.  “We’ll figure it out. Let’s just not do anything rash before we’ve exhausted all the alternatives.”

Her slender arms slipped around his waist and she burrowed into his chest. When they were along like this was the only time he ever got to see this side of her.  The vulnerable one that she tried hard to hide from the others. 

Her confidence was always such a striking thing about her.  Standing out and making her bigger than life but in the closed confines of their space the masks peeled away.  Her guard came down and he got to see the woman underneath the warrior.  

Pulling back,  he took her chin in his hand and tipped her head up so he could see her face. Brushing his thumb over her pulse point, he kissed her brow and then each check reverently before skimming his lips over hers.  

She sank into him easily,  having long ago given up her internal battle against the feelings she’d hidden so well from him.  

He caught himself though as her fingers pressed into his back. It was late and he could tell by the shadows under her eyes that Kayo needed sleep desperately.  The emotional toil of the day having cost her considerably.    

Her breath ghosted across his lips as she sighed,  knowing like he did that stopping before things got out of hand was for the best right now. 

“Come on, we can discuss this in the morning when we both aren’t dead on our feet.”

Her nod in agreement was singular and concise.  A flicker of her confidence with the simple gesture returning behind the verdant green of her eyes.

She stood back, took his hand and tugged him towards the bed.  

8-8-8

TBC

NEXT

[leam1983]

Cyberpunk 2077 Thoughts

Having perused Dark Horse Books’ The World of Cyberpunk 2077 over the past few days, I’ve gotten a better feel for the various basic hooks that structure V’s inception as a protagonist. The short of it is the Polish wizards are on the right path to nailing Pondsmith’s treatment the same way they nailed Sapkowski’s works.

Consider the following as half a brain dump, half a series of prospective spoilers, and also half projection, so either skip this, find some other entry to read, or come back to this come late November.

I know I mentioned three halves, but it’s late and I don’t give a shit.

I’m serious - DO NOT PRESS ON IF YOU’RE THE TYPE TO BLOW A GASKET IF YOU’RE INADVERTANTLY SPOILED. 

The latest Night City Wire as of August exposed three incipient “life paths”, or starting branches of V’s path. I’ll tackle my personal narrative approaches to them in the order of my choosing.

Nomads: CP2077 is set in a world where much of what we understand to define a family has been blown up, tossed around by climate change and nuclear fire and then stitched back together using grit, resourcefulness and the last dying embers of human decency. Nomads are less a group of people defined by blood relations and more a cadre of individuals that share something more significant than mere genes. It might be a common history, a set of shared hardships, a yen for similar automotive and engineering-related projects - whatever it is, that something pulls people together in ways Corpo rats and street kids will never experience.

This seems to define even the average Nomad’s degree of education. Surprisingly, Nomads are the most well-read group in Coronado Bay’s greater area, some caravans reportedly including entire RVs packed with books. Nomads generationally elect teachers and record-keepers and seem to care for those cultural remnants of the old world, before Pondsmith’s paranoid alternate sixties kicked off more than a century’s worth of technological progression and rampant dehumanization. To a Night City native, a Nomad’s speech patterns appear precious and uselessly florid, while they might appear almost normal to us - maybe slightly touched by the fact that Grandpa Joe or whatever really wanted you to have your Greek classics down before you were old enough to repair your first CH00H2 carburetor on your own.

That new, mega-clustered version of family matters immensely to the Nomads. You identify to yours the same way Orcs in Shadow of War might refer to their clan, or the same way a Scottish clan might design specific visual cues identifying its members. In normal circumstances, Nomads live, thrive and die in service to the clan - and the opening segment for V’s Nomad origins suggests that something happened to his clan. They’re gone, or so the narration says, without going into further detail. Is V responsible? We don’t currently know. As it stands, however, he is a lone Nomad in a clan of one, and soon finds himself pushed out of the Californian wastes and into Night City’s neon-drenched streets.

Seeing this, I considered the narration as an admission of guilt on V’s part. He feels responsible, and hopes that grinding his way to success will in some way atone for what he’s done. Consequently, my Nomad V would be as gruff as could be, but as moral and upstanding as the setting allows. He considers himself as having been invested with an example to set, and would intend to set his sights on more than just filthy lucre. Honest filthy lucre is what matters to him, if that concept even is possible: he might deal in unsavory types and illicit activities, but he always does so with a certain moral rectitude - as a tough and gruff, lean and stringy type you can occasionally catch in his battered Thornton pick-up truck with his feet up on the dashboard and a dog-eared copy of Plato’s Republic in hand. Jackie honestly wonders how he can put up with that Greek pendejo’s endless words and the lack of scrolling animations, while V keeps his Kiroshi optics’ News ticker locked onto grassroots Leftist RSS feeds that stoke a bit of an ignored Rockerboy ethos in him. Quoting Marx in Night City might feel like trying to teach lab rats in the finer points of string theory, but it at least feels genuine to him, compared to the predigested sociopolitical pap Militech, Arasaka and their ilk are more than happy to spew on the airwaves. 

There’s a lot to be pissed off about in Richard Night’s failed utopia, a lot of fat cats to gut and buildings to burn. Still, he leaves the glowering act and the churning rage to Johnny Silverhand’s imprinted ghost. Being more of a down-low, gun-toting choomba than a classic Street Samurai, Vincent “V” Carson thinks first and strikes second.

Vinnie isn’t much for electric guitars and anarchy in the UK, much less in the Free State of Southern California; but he does love the occasional Leonard Cohen ballad or the occasional shot of Johnny Cash’s melancholy. Having picked up something of a Northern Texas drawl while cruising, he might feel like Harry Dresden’s Good Ol’ Boy cousin, magic tricks here pushed aside in favor of a measure of dermal plating and a good ol’ fashioned twelve-gauge and revolver combo. Not being much of a techno-fetishist, he considers his optics and his skull jack as being begrudging concessions to an era that looks down on fully “ganic” types. Having grown up with TV serials and the occasional visor-based Braindance all depicting cyberpsychosis as something vile that utterly dehumanizes its sufferers, he’s naturally wary around anyone who seems a little too giddy with the prospect of taking a few scalpels to perfectly decent muscles and bones.

His Thornton is where most of his Eddies go, and yes, he’s named his truck Suzie. Suzie’s done right by him, and he’ll do right by her - unless someone else with a pretty smile and a working moral compass makes him swoon.

Street Kids: if you weren’t taught on the highways or in corporate arcologies, odds are you became a positive blip in an otherwise grim statistic, one of the myriad fucked-up kids raised by other fucked-up kids with more seniority than you. With no roads and paid-for nannies, you survived off of grifts, grit, violence, deceit, smarts and gumption - and that, in its own screwball way, creates its own blood ties. You’re wise by Heywood’s standards - streetwise, that is - and you speak the back-alleys’ lingua franca of threats, insinuation and casual intimidation like no other.

If only Jackie hadn’t fingered that Rayfield, huh? This beaut could’ve been paydirt! Well, at least for a week or so, judging by the fact that hundreds of car thefts are reported across Night City on a daily basis. At least, Dean - who also goes as “V” - got to make a new friend while out in the pokey, and managed to shake a few proverbial trees... They’ve got a short-lease in with Trauma Team’s frequency and could maybe hook themselves up with a sweet finder’s fee for anyone who’s on the verge of death at the hands of the city’s Scavengers...

Little does V know, that’s selling Trauma Team as well as their clients painfully short. Shows of gratitude don’t mean anything if you’re not packing the right social status. He barely remembers his birth parents as it is, and grew up the fifth grubby prospect of one of the Valentinos’ “school clubs” (hence the nickname) - where the points of study refer to the proper observances to be held in Jesus Malaverde’s presence, intensive Chicano and Spanish immersion, as well as the handling of common types of weaponry.

Vincent and Dean would be likely to shoot one another, if placed in the same room. One clings onto nearly-lost value systems, while the other commodifies what can be discarded like so much flesh - only inasmuch as his efforts to pacify his unofficial five or six abuelas force him to forego extensive modifications. His knives and wrist-mounted data port are his main tools of the trade, although Dean keeps his hacking creds along the bare minimum. Why bother, when melting an ATM’s ICE wall and whacking the cops with a baseball bat is all you need? There’s a type of gun for nearly anything else, if someone knows where to look...

Dean has no last name, and is consequently registered as “Dean Smith” in the city’s Census records. That doesn’t suggest, however, that he wouldn’t want to make one for himself. As he’s less focused on the city’s legends than on its kingmakers and pawn-movers, Dexter DeShawn strikes him as someone to emulate, watch and learn from - all with a decent degree of caution.

Being on top matters a little less to him than eventually pulling Heywood’s stings. With a little fear and a lot of persistence, Dean “V.” Smith knows that one day, he won’t go hungry on a weeknight. To that end, he’s certainly a hearty eater, here paired with extensive free-weight training regimens and the use of anabolic stimulants. Oh, sure, he’ll speak of family and blood like the best soldier festooned in Santa Muerte visual codices, but his friend Jackie’s got a mind like a slow and steady steel trap.

Either Dean blows his new fellow Street Samurai out of the pond, or he does. Unlike Jackie, however, Dean isn’t realistic about it. Friendships are a rare gift in Heywood, if not the rest of Night City, and Dean’s convinced that Jackie could conceivably look past his final betrayal.

Corpo: nowadays, we’re mostly familiar with the idea of one-percenters creating a bubble of affluence for themselves. Boarding schools, private villas, prebooked vacations across the globe’s priciest spots, access to the hottest trends on the minute of their inception - what this tends to forego is the level of social disconnect that’s required in order to stay relevant. We’re only just waking up to the consequences of letting an aging, crusty first-generation Yuppie be crowned the ruler of the free world, and even someone who’s behind on their Bret Easton Ellis could tell you that Donald J. Trump is a sociopath and a narcissist.

Take that mindset, and cultivate it into an ethos that’s taught to children from a very early age - children who live, eat, shit and breathe in accordance with their parent corporation’s tenets. The more placid, mid-tier lifers in the genre are called sararimen, in reference to William Gibson’s use of the term to designate low-level company workers in Chiba City. A bit like Shenzhen’s factory workers and execs, everything in a corpo’s life is in service to the corporation.

In Night City, as of 2077, two major players have installed this culture of total obedience in their roster. Their names are Militech and Arasaka. One is a juggernaut in the field of military-grade personal defence, the other has a wider grasp and reach, but is more fragile. Arasaka owes that fragility to the last fifty years having involved its re-establishment and reconstruction. Fifty years ago, Night City’s Corpo Plaza was blasted open by a thermonuclear discharge that sent the Japanese giant packing. The charges had been set by three Edgerunners: Rogue, Morgan Blackhand and Johnny Silverhand - accessorily a well-respected Rockerboy and front-line member of the band SAMURAI. Only Rogue survived that fateful night, or so the street lingo goes, having gone on to start a legitimate consultation business as well as a fruitful career in the hospitality business. Her bar, the Afterlife, is Night City’s hotspot for every techie, script kiddie and accomplished cyber-spelunker.

Our gal Vivian knows this. She knows this, because Vivian “V.” Banks lives two lives.

In one of them, she’s a lean and hungry Junior Executive in Arasaka’s Counter-Intel division. In that line of work, you either fuck someone’s prospects or protect your own, or ensure that no up-and-comer just out of the company’s Law School program manages to push you off the board. She knows full well that in centuries past, corpo-speak was made up of mild euphemisms that at best referred to destroying a rival’s prospects or lifelihood. Taking a life was something that required careful deliberation, especially when tossing a fat severance bonus into an aging CFO’s three-piece pockets and letting your erstwhile rival snort cocaine off of the rolling hips of Tahitian dancers was so much cheaper...

Nowadays, zeroing someone is commonplace.

You’re born for Arasaka, and chances are you’ll die for Arasaka just the same. Viv’s killed, lied, cheated and even stole her way to her position, remorse being this vaguely churning sense of coldness in her gut that keeps one-night stands coming in and out of her bedroom. She only remembers her parents as being credit-chip enablers and personal enhancement drug addicts, cutting ties with them so completely on the day of her official hiring that it felt more like a tacit understanding.

On most days, sex and booze keep the cold at bay. On most days, Vivian Banks is a class-act of a sociopath. The stronger she gets, however, and the more paranoid her targets become - which reinforces her own paranoia. Before long, playing the part of one of Arasaka’s several poisonous flowers won’t work anymore.

Unfortunately, she trusts no-one. No Fixer could put her in contact with any hacker she’d trust, no rando fresh off the street with a retro-tinted National Arms plinker would satisfy her. To climb up the ranks and maybe share tea with Old Man Saburo himself, she needs a spotless performance record. She needs skills.

More importantly, she needs a reputation. That means leaving Arasaka Tower and mingling with the experts in their own field - and it means filling out her back book of successful hits. The drinks at the Afterlife are decent enough, but what she’s after is an official in.

If she can get to Rogue, or maybe even hook up with a ripperdoc not bought and paid for by the company, she might be able to score both new skills and increased performance...

If it were as simple as slitting Janet’s throat in HR and diving her way to an orgiastic performance review quite innocently left on the department’s server, she would’ve done that already. Viv is my obvious Pure Stealth build candidate, my main-line hacker and would-be engineer with a thing for black power skirts and designer offensive augments.

With that said, we’re months ahead of schedule, all the good shit’s already come out, so we’re stuck playing the waiting game...

What are your own character or build ideas for Cyberpunk 2077?

[cagesings]

 @angelsweeps  

 sometimes,  she  forgets  how  they  come  from  two  different  worlds.  they  do  in  a  way.  her,  having  come  from  london  (  a  city  she  does  not  remember,  though  with  the  different  phrases  and  vocabulary  she  uses,  he's  quick  to  remind  her  ).  though,  mostly  the  reminders  come  when  they're  standing  in  line  to  buy  a  ticket  for  a  movie  or  when  he's  licking  an  ice  cream  cone  that  she's  politely  declined  from.  today,  the  reminder  comes  while  johanna  is  looking  through  a  collection  of  blankets  put  on  sale  when  he  whispers  that  in  her  ear.

 for  a  moment,  she  freezes.  had  he  really  just  --  ?  in  public?  there  could  be  people  listening  in.  nosy  people,  yes,  but  people  nonetheless.  all  color  drains  from  her  face.  surely,  she  heard  him  wrong.  surely,  he  couldn't  have  said  something  like  that  in  public.  out  of  nowhere.  could  people  be  arrested  for  that?  people  can  get  arrested  for  public  nudity  and  what  he  just  said  sounded  something  awfully  close  to  committing  such  an  act.  perhaps,  even  worse.  hands  are  still  frozen  over  the  fabric  she  was  looking  at.  oh.  he  really  had  just  said  that.  in  her  ear.  as  if  it  was  nothing.  

 ❝  i'm  not  speaking  to  you,  ❞  is  all  johanna  says  before  resuming  her  task.

[cannotflyarc]

❝ i thought you were going to be an old man on his deathbed. ❞ perhaps, not the wisest choice to be so terribly blunt about it, but she can't bring herself to care in front of mr. laurence. in the back of her mind, the judge glares at her with the disdain of someone who bit right into a lemon. as long as that image is only in her head and not her reality. ❝ that's how he made you out to be. i even thought your grandfather was my suitor at some point. ❞

upon further inspecting the ice skates, her legs seem to give out on her already --- despite sitting on the bench. how is she to balance her entire body weight on just that? ❝ we're just . . . i think my skirts are too long. they're going to get caught once we're on the ice and i'll trip and since we're on the ice --- ❞ johanna stops before further embarrassing herself. she takes his hand, but doesn't make an attempt to stand. brows furrow and she gently chews on her lower lip. ❝ are you certain, mr. laurence? how are we supposed to get to the lake from here in these shoes? ❞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ* ARRANGED MARRIAGE SENTENCE STARTERS

@cannotfly ASKED: “Am I not what you expected?” (JOHANNA)

"Not at all, Mrs. Laurence." Laurie said, helping her tighten the laces on her skates. He had already sat down in the snow to put his on, but stayed down there to help her with hers.

Ice skating on the lake had been his idea, and he had begged her to go. He needed out of the house. it was the first that his grandfather ( and his doctor) approved.

it only seemed right to take her with him. "We should stay near the edge, the ice is thicker there." with that he stood back up and extended his hand to her, "It's quite fun, I promise."

[cannotfly]

tags; verses

*❈ ‣ look at you pale and ivory-skinned‚ look at you looking so sad — ( v: canon. )  

*❈ ‣ poor child‚ she needs so much correction: she sings if left alone — ( v: foggs. ) 

*❈ ‣ and we’ll sail the world and see its wonders‚ from the pearls of spain to the rubies of tibet — ( v: post. ) 

*❈ ‣ isn’t that her dainty footstep on the stair? yes‚ isn’t that her shadow on the wall? — ( v: alternate. )  

*❈ ‣ i lived this one wild life‚ i ripped it apart‚ i pushed through the corners with no apologies — ( v: modern. )

*❈ ‣ and though my soul will die with you‚ our child will not be left alone to spend a lifetime wondering how — ( v: single mother. )

*❈ ‣ i have to run away‚ i have to sit and stay; i'm gonna live a life where i'm proud of the way that i spent my days — ( v. hawkins. )  

*❈ ‣ this was an escape plan‚ carefully timed it‚ so let me go and dive into the waves below — ( v: panem. )

*❈ ‣ don’t need a ring for my finger‚ just need a steady hand to hold — ( v: main. feat. anyfight )    

*❈ ‣ chasing our heart’s desire but we go on pretending stories like ours have happy endings — ( v: affair. feat. anyfight ) 

*❈ ‣ if you love me tell me that you love me; if you don't just tell me that you do — ( v: workhouse. feat. anyfight ) 

*❈ ‣ wasn't it gonna be the two of us? weren't we birds of a feather?— ( v: feat. arthur / notefinal. )  

*❈ ‣ for somebody i thought was my savior‚ you sure make me do a whole lot of labor — ( v: feat. riff / notefinal )  

*❈ ‣ i had this feeling as i was falling the sound across the bay was the sound of you calling — ( v: great gatsby. feat. notefinal )

*❈ ‣ only we know what we’ve both been through‚ if i save you will you save me too? — ( v: main. feat. art / notefinal ) 

[cannotflyarc]

@luckhissoul sent: ‘ i got us a place to stay for the night. you have to get out of this rain. ’

there were the subtle beginnings of an illness when she finally agreed to fly with mr. cauthon. an ache under her skin, the slight struggle to catch her breath, all signs clearly pointing to the warning that she should not run. but if the universe was telling her that, then johanna would defy it. she is going to escape from the judge, despite whatever pounding in her head. she didn't expect to get this much worse this quickly. johanna tried to hide it --- she did, tucking any hint of a cough behind an embroidered handkerchief and keeping talking to a minimum ( other than expressing gratitude for helping her get away --- mr. cauthon had no reason to help her ). he shouldn't have figured out.

❝ i like the rain, ❞ she mumbles back. it isn't wrong. she's always tended to enjoy such a consequence of cloudy skies. ❝ i'm alright, sir. ❞ an unsuccessful attempt at biting back a cough. johanan quickly turns her head into her sleeve to prevent from sneezing on him. ❝ i don't mind keeping going. i'd like to! ❞ the further away from london, the better. they've been traveling for hours, yet they aren't far enough. just a few more hours . . . think about how far they could get in a few more hours! ❝ i don't have anything to repay you for the room anyway. ❞ as much as johanna wants to bury her face in her heads and rub the exhaustion from her eyes, she doesn't. ❝ let's just keep going. ❞