#....shoot myself in the foot because these were supposed to be fun little quick paints

[snackugaki-jestsjapesjokes]

wip li si hard mode vs easy mode

[misterewrites]

Intro to Caitlyn 101 (Mirror’s Edge)

Summary:  Caitlyn is a thief looking for the next big score. Used to taking wristwatches and wallets from rich folk, she's aiming to take down bigger game as she discovers the hidden magical world within her hometown. Her first mark is an unassuming shopkeeper and his collect of ancient relics. All set with a plan, Caitlyn makes her move. Though plans rarely go off without a hitch.

Hello everyone! E here, hoping you are all well and staying safe. So the next chapter of my little side project is here! Honestly wasn't planning on getting back to this so soon but I was having fun worldbuilding and character creating and here we are. You can blame my friend @hains-mae for enabling me.

Right so the next thing I write will probably be the part two to this then the next chapter of the Underground. Umm that's really it for me so have a great week, be safe, wear your mask, take care of yourself and your loved ones. Please feel free to reblog, share, leave kudos or leave comments with things you liked or feedback if you read it on a03. I promised I'd try to promote myself more and it feels weird haha.

E is out, have a great one everyone! and here’s the link to the doobly do 

---> https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/76014323

There was an arrogance that seemed deeply etched into every aspect of the magical world. She stood among valuable, ancient relics from throughout human history: Vases from Greece lined the shelf above her. A row of Roman gladius blades in various states of decay with only a flimsy glass case between them and Caitlyn’s pocket. Tarnished Victorian era slivered lockets left about like loose change.

Millions dollars worth of the past and she, a stranger, was left unattended with it all.

Technically she wasn’t supposed to be in here with the locked door and close sign but the fact in the 5 minutes it took her to pick the lock and scout the first floor without a single soul attempting to stop her really was a testimony to the haughtiness of the ‘shopkeeper’.

It had been only few months since she saw past the false reality that was superimposed onto hers and she was still readjusting: Magic was real. Elves, dwarves, little halfing folk? Real. People shooting bolts of lightning and flames while riding storm clouds? Real. The guy who kept awkwardly hitting on her every time she tried to get a hotdog from the cart at the corner? Just a regular creep BUT could’ve been magical.

Even their currency was a show of their excessive wealth: Sliver, gold, platinum coins Actual platinum traded away like it was nothing! People starving and helpless on the streets and these bastards just walked with some of the rarest metal on the planet in their pockets like chump change.

Anger bubbled within her stomach along with self righteousness and a bit of her breakfast but she took a deep calming breath, closing her bluish gray eyes. ‘Calm down Cait’ she scolded herself ‘This isn’t the first time you’ve seen excessive wealth squandered and wasted. You’re here for a job so do it and never come back.’

She glanced around the waiting room she found herself in. It was off to the side of the shopping front andthere were very few things of interest in the tiny room: Some old, tattered chairs that had seen better days. A very, very tacky abstract painting hung over a bricked up fireplace. There was a scattering of magazines older than her with loose stables and free roaming pages everywhere.

A place of show and very little use.

“Hello my angel.”

Caitlyn seized up. She had been so caught up in her rage she hadn’t been paying attention to anyone coming down the stairs. Three stories with a handful of people about and nary a sound could heard. Must be some sort of magic.

She shook herself out of her stupor, slowly exhaling to calm her nerves. She forced her lips to curve into the cutest, lost smile she could muster. She opened her purple jacket a bit further so the guy could get a clearer view of her tight white tank top and running shorts.

“Helpless. Remember you’re helpless.” She whispered to herself before whirling about, her long black hair with dyed purple coloring flowed behind her gracefully as if she was an actress in those stupid hair product commercials.

“Oh!” she spoke with mock surprise, scrunching her face cutely as possible “I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m lost and the door was open and sorry!”

She leaned forward, sheepishly scratching the back of her neck as she gave whoever it was a better view of her outfit.

Hook, line and sinker.

“No problem sweetie. No need to lie to me.”

Hook, line and sunk apparently.

She blinked, unsure if she heard what she thought she heard. She glanced up to find a strangely dressed man with the goofiest grin.

He was cute in a ‘I dress as an obscure, indie character for cosplay’kind of way: His messy, unkempt black hair sat under a black fedora. He wore a long black trench coat that had seen better days. At least he preferred more colors than black on black. His collared shirt was a nice baby blue with an equally nice light brown vest. Black dress pants because men’s fashion is incredibly boring and shiny loafers to completed the look. Whatever the look was.

She expected him to be taking a good look at her attire.

What she found was him staring at her.

His warm dark brown eyes were soft, gentle and he refused to break his gaze from her bluish grays even though there were more tempting sights on offer.

She was on the back foot. No wandering glances, no self pleasured smiles. Not even a creepy chuckle. Just a strangely dressed, inch shorter guy looking like he just found the love of his life in this moment.

“I…” she cleared her throat “Umm….did you hear me?”

He gave a quick nod “Yeah. You broke in and you were trying to cover your tracks.”

It wasn’t that he guessed correctly what was she up to that threw her off. It was how casually he said it. More discussing the weather than committing a felony.

She raised an eyebrow, not sure how to proceed from whatever this was. There were always some people who caught on about her intentions fairly quickly but no one had ever been so….indifferent about it.

“I don’t work here.” the man offered, slowly closing the distance between them but leaving the doorframe wide open “I really don’t care that you’re here to rob the place.”

This has to be a trap. This had to be. No one was ever this….laidback. Were the other goons on the side waiting to jump her when she bolted? Was she on camera and he was letting her go knowing full well he had all the evidence he needed to track her down?

Or maybe he really didn’t care. He seemed more interested in talking than stopping her and there was this strange presence about him. A calm she’d never felt before even when her parents were alive. It was odd and foreign to her but she felt safe. Protected.

She shook her head, slowly inching closer to the doorway. The man made no attempt stop her. He just stood there, smiling, hands in his pocket.

The rational part of her brain said to run. This whole thing was botched and it was better to cut her losses than find out first hand what magical creatures could do to her. The less rational side of her head told her to wait, to talk this guy. Lying was obviously pointless but she had a feeling he would answer any questions she’d had and she had plenty.

“So…” she rose a suspicious eyebrow “Not gonna stop me?”

He shook his head “I wish you’d stay but I understand if you don’t want to be found in Andor’s shop. He’s one of those new elves. Less honor more power.”

She blinked. He said elves right? Just threw it out there like it was an everyday matter of fact and not a deeply held secret of her hometown.

“Elves aren’t real.’ Caitlyn said matter of fact.

“We both know better than that.” The man gave a bright smile.

“What do you want?”

The words spilled out of her mouth despite her best attempts but this guy was throwing her off so badly she forgot how to function.

“Talk to you of course.”

The worst kind of people were the sincere ones. They were sappy and gooey. They just so happy it was sickening. They had to be up to something. They had to some scheme or scam or something they were waiting to drop on you. No one was that happy, that purely honest. They were the liars who were so good they convinced themselves they were good people. No one was good and everyone had a dark corner in their soul they hid from the world.

Caitlyn knew she had plenty in whatever was left of her ratty soul.

“And if we talk? Will you let me go?”

The man nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Caitlyn licked her lips anxiously “Promise?”

Promise? What was she 12? No one kept their promises. Not even her.

He placed his hand over his heart “Cross my heart.”

“Let’s talk,”

He jerked his head towards the door “Outside. Don’t want you to ruin your heist.”

-----

Today was not going how she was expecting. She was thought she was going to break into an elf ran front, scout the area and come back in the middle of the night. She hadn’t been expecting to have coffee and bread with a random stranger on the street.

Well she had coffee, mystery man opted for hot chocolate.

They stood in a strangely comfortable silence a block from Andor’s. The man offered to pay for whatever she wanted and she took him up on it. Couple of baked goods, a sandwich for lunch, some water and of course her cup of wake up juice. If he was mad at her for her splurging at his expense, he hid it well. He just took his coco and some fancy elvish bread. Looked good but Caitlyn wasn’t up for trying other beings food. She didn’t know how it would sit with her stomach.

The elf who ran the cart, a few months ago human to her, waved goodbye to the pair as he counted the human cash the man gave him.

The trench coat cosplay stood patiently, sipping his drink and waited for her to break the silence.

She refused to break the silence first. Not wanting to sound too eager. Eagerness was a weakness and this guy was already throwing her off her rhythm.

“I’m Finnrick by the way.”

She turned to him, unsure if he was messing with her or not.

He gave her the same goofy smile “Finnrick Drift, private investigator.”

“Ah huh.” She nodded slowly “So you’re a magical P.I.? Like elves cheating on their wives, dwarves dodging their taxes P.I.?”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged his shoulders “Ironically elves like dodging on their taxes more than dwarves.”

“Right.”

“You’re new to the whole other side of Newton Haven huh?”

She glanced at her coffee “Lived here my whole life. Really makes me wonder if I lost my mind.”

“Don’t worry, we’re all mad here Alice.”

Why was she talking to him? Why was she being honest? This was weirder and getting weirder every passing second.

Finnrick changed subject “So, robbing Andor? Any particular loot you are after?”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes “Trying to fish something out of me Finny?”

“Guilty as charged” He beamed with pure happiness “Don’t want you wasting your time on shiny trinkets he cares nothing about.”

Caitlyn remained silent. She wasn’t used to such transparency. Normally this would be the point where the guy would lie or pretend to not have heard or awkwardly switch the subject but Finnrick answered openly and honestly. So far.

“So” Caitlyn straightened up, pulling her jacket wide open “What do you think? Great outfit right?”

Finnrick turned to her with a grin, his cheeks turning a pinkish hue as his eyes locked onto hers “Your body is absolutely lovely but your eyes even more so.”

Caitlyn could feel the flush coming. She coughed loudly, focusing on her drink as she willed the embarrassment away.

Finnrick chuckled lightly but returned to his drink. The silence returned, still comfortable as before.

This is was bad whatever this was. She needed to regain some level of control and stop acting like a teenage girl on her first garbage fire of a date.

“So” she cleared her throat “Mister P.I. what would you recommend taking if not all those millions of dollars of historical items he leaves about?”

Finnrick crushed the foam cup effortlessly as he gestured to the third floor of the shop “His office has a pretty simple safe. He keeps loads of paperwork. His various contracts, accounts, treasure hoards”

Caitlyn scoffed in disbelief even though her eyes shone with excitement “Treasure hoards? Elves? I thought dragons were the hoarders. Weren’t elves supposed to be above all that lovely corruption?”

“No one is above corruption.’ Finnrick answered “Elves are just like everyone else.”

Caitlyn crossed her arms and leaned back with a cocky swagger “And why, pray tell, would I care about boring paperwork?”

“Because it really hurt him in the pride.”

Damn Finnrick was good. Not only she was eager to learn more, she could already feel the smug satisfaction of bringing a powerful prick down a peg fill her cause.

Finnrick seemed to notice this because he went on “Andor is a young elf. 100 years give or take.”

“A hundred years is young?”

“When you live a thousand years every other race is a child to you. Andor’s old man is a swell guy. He’s one of those good elves you see in Tolkien.”

“Tolkien?” Caitlyn furrowed her brow “He wrote the books that those Lord of the Rings films are based on right?”

“Yeah actually.”

“Oh and the Hob…”

“We don’t talk about that.” Finnrick quickly added “But see the problem is Andor’s old man doesn’t know his son has become the small time crime lord. Thinks he’s running an antique business selling off old junk that was gathering dust in the family’s attic.”

Something clicked into place for Caitlyn “Wait. Junk from the attic? You mean all those relics on the shop floor?! THAT’S OLD JUNK!?”

Finnrick gave a casual shrug “Elves are weird. Andor don’t know shit about selling, all his money comes from his illegal business practices. That’s how he keeps the shop afloat.”

“I see” Caitlyn spoke, her bluish grays sparkling with mischievous intent “If those records disappeared, his shop sinks and he has to run back home to daddy.”

“And out of the city” Finnrick finished with a smile “And those records are pretty valuable to loads of people. Easier to fence and less messy to explain than a long lost Greek vase showing up in someone’s private collection. You’d get good prices for those hoard locations alone. Better than trying to carry tons of stolen and lost treasure back to your house.”

Caitlyn eyed Finnrick carefully “And you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart? Trying to do your ‘civic’ duty to our fair city?”

“Among other things” Finnrick admitted “But mostly for the greater good.”

“Pfft, greater good? Yeah sure buddy. Like you know what’s the greater good.”

“Will you do it?”

Caitlyn paused, allowing all this information sink in. It was much better than she had planned and while she wasn’t sure of Finnrick’s angle, he seemed honest enough. Of course everyone seems honest enough the first time you meet them.

“Let’s say I do” she spoke, placing her hands on her hips to play the part “What’s in it for you?”

“A favor” He replied simply.

She rose a curious eyebrow “A favor? It’s not date with me, is it?”

“No, I plan to earn that one myself.” Finnrick answered cheerfully.

Caitlyn coughed “Fine, good. Not a date. Least you’re not a creep. But a favor is pretty vague.”

“It’ll be simple I promise.”

Caitlyn narrowed her gaze suspiciously “You promise?”

Finnrick put his hand over his heart again “Cross my heart.”

Caitlyn took a moment, weighing the pros and cons of the situation.

Caitlyn offered her hand towards the trench coat cosplayer “You got yourself a deal.”

He gently took her hand in his own and gave it a firm shake. She was surprised when, as he pulled back, she felt a strange metallic item left behind.

She looked at the crystal butterfly hair clip he placed in her hand: It was a beautiful with sliver hues and multi-colored shards of glass across its wings.

“What’s this?”

“A gift.”

Caitlyn felt uneasy with the ornament in her palm: It felt cold and distant like it was feeling her out and wasn’t liking what it found.

“It’s attuning to you.” Finnrick explained “It’s syncing up to your whole aura.”

“Aura?” Caitlyn shot him a glare of disbelief “This isn’t one of those new age hippie things is it?”

Finnrick shook his head “It’s a magical item. Yours specifically. Everything alive has a deep and very convoluted to explain connection to this plane. The hairclip is trying to match yours so you and only you can use it.”

“It feels wrong.”

“Because it doesn’t know you yet. It will.”

Caitlyn felt unease about whatever this was. Part of her wanted to toss it as far as she could. The worst part was she felt the item probing at her, changing temperatures as if trying find a comfortable setting for both of them. Burning one moment and too cold the next. This was magic and it made her felt like she knew nothing.

But part of her felt it slowly and subtly trying to match her, focusing on her and on her place in the universe. It felt more natural each passing moment and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious what mister detective over here was letting her borrow.

Caitlyn blew a strand of hair out of her face “How long does this usually take?”

“An hour.” Finnrick reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone “Oh shoot I have a meeting to get to.”

He turned to leave and suddenly Caitlyn felt alone. Awkward just standing in the street without someone to talk to.

“Wait!” She reached for him but quickly pulled back when he faced her “….any advice?”

Finnrick scratched his chin for a moment “Red tiles. Avoid them or they’ll blast you off the roof.”

“G-gotcha.” Caitlyn didn’t want to know what blast off the roof was code for “A-and the hairclip? What’s it do?”

Finnrick gave a cheeky grin and Caitlyn could feel her face flush “I guess you’ll have to find out angel. Bye for now. May we meet again soon.”

And like that, he was off. Strolling down the straight with a bounce in his step and humming a tune.

Caitlyn glanced at the ornate hairclip in her hand.

Turns out there was a lot more to this magical world than she thought.

[thatonecurlygirl]

Navigating Nick Amaro [3]

Pairing: Nick x Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: mentions of sexual harassment Read other chapters  A/N: Sorry it took soooo long to get this chapter out. I know, I suck at this whole keeping my stuff updated, but I’m working on it. Hope you enjoy

“Hey, wake up,” Nick whispers in your ear, gently shaking you out of your dreams.

“Hi,” You smile up at him. “What time is it?” A small yawn follows your question.

“It’s eight, I figured we would go out and grab some breakfast and see what sights there are to see before we hit the road again.” He smiles and pats your leg before moving back to his bed to neatly put his clothes back in his suitcase. “The shower’s all yours.” “Yes,” You draw out your ’s’ as you stretch and dramatically slide out of the bed and onto the floor before standing up with your clothes for the day. “You saved some hot water for me, right?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He smirks playfully before nodding his head. “There’s plenty of hot water left for you.”

Smiling, you walk to the bathroom and close the door behind you before stripping out of your clothes and turning on the shower. You probably should have showered last night to rid your hair of the chlorine that soaked in overnight, but you didn’t. After the swim, you laid on your bed and Nick on his bed as you talked about what states you were most excited to drive through and places you needed to stop at to sightsee. That’s how you fell asleep. Nick, on the other hand, he fell asleep to your peaceful face and the soft, irregular snores that came from you.

You rinse the soap off your face, hoping that the sadness of your inevitable departure from Nick once this trip is over will be washed away with it… it doesn’t work. Instead, you turn off the water and dry your tears along with the rest of the water and along with your clothes, you put on a brave face and step out of the bathroom.

“Alright Nicky, let’s get some breakfast. I’m starving.” You smile, putting your dirty clothes in your bag and heading out to the car to load it up.

“What are you feeling, cariño?” He asks, taking your bag from you and putting it in the trunk before closing it and walking to the driver’s side.

“So many things.” You sigh under your breath, but hide it with a smile as you look up at him. “Anything’s good with me, as long as I get some food.” You slide into the passenger seat.

“IHOP it is.” He smiles at you before starting up the car and driving off. “How’d you sleep last night?” He asks, glancing over at you.

“Like a rock. What about you, Nick?” You look over at him, watching as the corners of his mouth twitch upward for just a second.

“I slept pretty well.” He nods his head, thinking of your sleeping form on the next bed over, and the light snores that he fell asleep to.

After breakfast, the two of you head over to a museum just to get the feel for the city you just spent the night in. To say you are unimpressed is an understatement. The older lady that was your waitress at IHOP raved about the place, said there were so many interesting things there. The museum was mostly filled with pictures and information on the town, how it was founded, the mayors and the educational systems, pretty much all the boring stuff all the teachers more than likely skip over teaching about.

“This is awful.” You giggle, running your finger across the picture and looking at all the dust that had accumulated. “It’s like the start of a slasher film.”

“Yeah, we should probably go,” Nick says in a low voice as he scans the big, empty room the two of you are standing in.

“That sounds like a great idea.” You nod, wiping the dust on your pants and walking with him toward the exit.

“Thanks for visiting.” A museum worker says with a wide smile as the two of you round the corner.

Jumping from the shock, you place a hand on your chest to calm your rapidly beating heart and grab Nick’s arm with your other hand as an anchor. With a quick nod and a small smile, you continue out the doors until you are in front of the cars in the parking lot. It’s then that you break out into a fit of laughter, hands shoot out and you brace yourself on the car as amused tears blur your vision.

“I- I thought we were dead for a minute.” You say once you’ve calmed down a little, wiping the tears from your cheeks as you look up at Nick. He is looking at you with a fond smile and soft eyes, the look that makes you melt every time. Your laughter completely subsides, replaced by a smile that mimics his before you open your door. “Let’s go, Nicky before they come looking for us.”

Sitting in the car, you buckle up and look out the window, away from Nick, and your smile falls. Sometimes the way he looks at you makes your stomach twist in knots, in all the good ways. The way he smiles at you sends you into a tailspin nearly every time. The way that he has always been there for you �� he’s always been present — it’s incredible. It’s also heartbreaking, heartbreaking to know that you are head over heels in love with your best friend and he doesn’t even know it. It’s heartbreaking that you’ve had so many failed relationships because they can never quite seem to live up to Nick. It’s devastating that you are traveling across the country to drop off your best friend, the guy you secretly love, and turning around and leaving.

Clenching your jaw, you quickly wipe away the tear that fell down your cheek and swallowed the lump in your throat as Nick began down the road.

“So, Nick, what’s your plan? I mean, I know moving into the house and actually get to see the kiddos, but other than that.” You ask, turning toward him to see him shrug his shoulders.

“Haven’t really thought about that, what about you? You going to try for that promotion when you get back home?” He asks, glancing over at you.

“No.” You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Why do you say it like that? I thought getting a promotion was a good thing.” He asks, slightly taken aback by your response.

“The promotion isn’t worth the trouble.” You shake your head, looking back out the window.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed and occasionally glancing over at you. “Y/n?” He prompts when you don’t answer.

“Quid pro quo, Nick. I’m already on thin ice with my boss as is. If I asked for that promotion… I don’t know if I could deal with any more of the—” You squeeze your eyes closed, raising your hands up as to block out the thoughts. “If I want to keep my job, I need to keep quiet. I sure as hell won’t be able to if in exchange for a promotion he wants in my pants.”

“Wait, are you saying-”

“You know exactly what I’m saying so don’t make me say it again.” You sigh, looking out the window. “It’s not like he’s done anything other than copped a feel a couple of times and been suggestive, not going to lie it was really uncomfortable but I work through it.” You shrug.

“You shouldn’t have to fucking work through it, Y/n. Why didn’t you tell me?” Nick asks, raising his voice as he pulls to a stop in a parking lot.

“Because you are my quick-tempered best friend that just so happens to be a sex crimes cop. The last thing I needed was you and the rest of SVU waltzing in and I end up losing my job, or you get in trouble for beating up my boss, or both.” You throw your hands up defensively as you explain why you never told him. “Plus, I can handle myself, Nick.”

“So you fucking drop this on me now! Now I’m going to be sitting in California, worried about you getting assaulted by your boss, all the way across the country.”

“I’ll be fine, Nick. I’ve always been able to take care of myself. Now can we please stop arguing? I wanted these last couple days together to be fun.” You groan, folding your arms over your chest.

“Fine, whatever.” He rolls his eyes, turning up the radio and pulling back onto the road without another word.

Over the next several minutes, neither of you say anything. The music that Nick had turned up, an attempt to mute the tension, plays as you chew at your lip. The lack of communication between the two of you at the moment is killing you, you can’t take it. Your hand shoots out, turning down the music before you turn to face him.

“I’m trying to find a new job, I just need to hold on to this one until I do.” You explain with a small sigh. “I just knew you’d flip your shit if you found out and really you don’t have to worry about me being there much longer.” You shrug. “He was pissed I took all this time off to spend with you. I won’t be there much longer.”

“You shouldn’t be there at all.” He says quietly.

“Well, I’ve gotta pay rent somehow.” You turn the radio up a little, bobbing your head to the music that plays.

At some point amid the silence between the both of you and the music acting as a buffer to fill the otherwise soundless car, you fall asleep. Head resting against the window, one foot tucked under a leg and your arms folded across your chest. It’s always been incredibly easy for you to fall asleep in cars, as a child, when you couldn’t sleep your parents would take you on a car ride to put you to sleep — it worked every time.

Nick smiles, glancing over as you as you sleep. Your mouth is slightly ajar and he turns down the music so he can listen to the quiet sounds of your soft snores. The corners of his mouth twitch upward as he takes a deep breath.

“You can tell me anything.” He says quietly to you, reaching a hand out to gently push a strand of hair out of your sleeping face. “anything.”

Nick lets you sleep for a couple of hours until he reaches a sight you would get a kick out of seeing. With a smile, he parks the car at the side of the road and leans over the center console to gently nudge you and whisper for you to wake up. When you do blink awake, he simply points out the window. There stands a wooden sign with the words “Used Cows for sale!” painted in black paint.

“U-used cows?” You ask in a serious tone before your bottom lip starts quivering and bust out into a hysterical laugh. “What the hell? Those poor cows.” You giggle, looking out to the field filled with cows grazing.

“I thought you’d get a kick out of that.” Nick chuckles, buckling his seat belt again.

“I sure did.” You smile, wiping the laughter produced tears off your face as you watch Nick pull back onto the road.

His smile is small but sincere. It hasn’t faltered, just continued to stay constant, just like Nick. That’s how you know he is truly happy. He has this joyful aura that fills up entire spaces, his smile will be stuck on his face and in his eyes. You feel the corners of your mouth upturn as you look at him.

“What are you looking at?” He chuckles, glancing at you.

“I just like seeing you smile.” You say honestly. “Seeing you really smile, not those fake ass smiles you give half the people you come in contact with.”

“How do you know they’re fake?” He scoffs.

“I know you, Nick Amaro.” You stick your hand in his hair to playfully scruff it up. “I notice these things because you’re my best friend.” And because I love you…

“You’re probably right.” He smiles softly, looking out at the road.

“Damn straight!” You boast. “I’m always right, Nick Amaro, and you better remember that!”

@sigh-me-a-river @kaybee87 @svucarisiaddict @babypink224221 @sonnysdoll

[sunshinetrappedinourhearts]

Nathmarc month day 18: Art gallery

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16491026/chapters/39076621 Yeah, okay, so yesterday I was talking about how my fics are either 800 or 1800 words and this is another long one. xD (Also will I ever actually finish a fic before midnight? Probably not. Oh well. 8D) @nathmarcnovember

It was crowded at the Louvre today. At times, Nathaniel had to grab Marc’s hand in order to not lose him. Not that he disliked the feeling of his soft hand, warm and safe in his. Marc didn’t seem to mind either, as he smiled a bit shyly at him, his cheeks slightly pink.

The crowd was annoying, though. It was the first time they had gone to the art gallery together, but there were more people around than Nathaniel had ever seen. Beside actual interested visitors like them, and tourists of course, there also seemed to be a lot of school trips mingled in the chaos. Laughter and casual talk were dominating the silence. Irritated, he wondered if those kids had never had a proper education in which they had learned museums were supposed to be quiet places.

Sighing, he hold onto Marc’s hand as he tried leading him to one of his favorite sections. In the process, a girl probably a few years older than them bumped hard into him with her shoulder, and he lost his grip on the writer boy. Alarmed, he looked around to find him, but instead found the girl screaming at him.

‘Geez, can’t you like, look where you’re walking? Hello! I’m talking to you!’

Nathaniel lowered his gaze. ‘S-sorry.’ He then quickly turned around and Marc was already back to his side, his bright green eyes relaxing.

‘It’s too busy today…’ he mentioned, sighing softly.

‘Yeah, I know… We should have come some other day. I never thought there’d be so many school trips here today…’

They had been free from school early today, which is why they had planned to go today.

Marc shrugged, smiling a bit. ‘We couldn’t have known… Maybe the section you wanted to show me is a bit less crowded...?’

His smile was adorable, and Nathaniel felt his irritation soften a bit.

‘You’re right. I hope so.’

Fate decided otherwise. From out of nowhere, a large group of people came running towards them, a few of them yelling to get out of the way. Nathaniel quickly got to the side, pulling Marc with him.

‘What’s going on…?’ His heart felt heavy, beating painfully loud as he let his eyes shift over the hall, searching for whatever was the cause of the chaos.

A fire?

Shooting?

Or… an akuma?

‘Nathaniel?’ Marc’s voice sound a little worried and he turned to look at him, then noticed he was squeezing his hand. He quickly loosened the grip, but he didn’t want to let go of him.

If I let go now… maybe I’ll lose him.

The weird thought settled in his mind and he breathed.

‘Sorry. Did I hurt you?’ he turned to him, smiling a bit awkwardly.

Marc shook his head, then turned his attention back to the crowd of people running away from their direction, furrowing his eyebrows a bit.

‘What… could have happened…?’

Nathaniel shook his head. ‘I don’t know, but we better get out of here as well. Don’t- uhm, l-let go, okay?’ He averted his gaze, biting his lip as he felt his cheeks darken a bit.

Marc squeezed his hand. ‘I won’t.’

They followed the people quickly. Behind them, a voice arose.

‘I won’t let anyone disturb this museum anymore! Get out of here you barbarians! I’ll turn you all into paintings!’

Nathaniel tightened his grip on Marc’s hand, increasing his pace. His heart was pounding loudly against his chest.

Akuma.

It’s an akuma after all.

Get away…!

Ladybug and Chat Noir will be here soon-

Just gotta run!

Fast!

‘Nathaniel!’

Marc pointed behind them, and just for a second, Nathaniel looked over his shoulder to see what he meant.

People were disappearing, and there were paintings on the floor everywhere.

Actually, Nathaniel could swear one of the paintings looked just like the girl that had bumped into him earlier, and her face looked terrified.

Oh, no…

Could this mean-

A loud laugh then echoed through the hallway, and behind them a man appeared, who was dressed in white clothing, but they were full of splashes paint in a huge variety of colors. His face was covered with them as well. He was wearing a headset.

‘If you won’t listen to my explanations I might as well just turn you all into paintings instead!’

Exactly as he’d been afraid of.

The man tapped on his headset, and as if sending a sound wave, he aimed at the person just behind them.

Within seconds, the boy vanished, and a painting appeared.

Nathaniel’s eyes widened.

The akumatized tour guide picked up the painting, laughing as he put it up on the wall, next to one of the classics in this section of the Louvre.

Ladybug, please…

Hurry up…!

He squeezed his eyes shut as he ran, focussing on the warmth of Marc’s hand in his.

Then, suddenly, it was gone.

Nathaniel froze in his steps.

Looked beside him.

Marc was gone.

Instead, there was a painting on the floor.

He didn’t want to look.

Couldn’t look.

He was too afraid to face the truth.

Everything went silent to him, but he felt his vocal cords protest- he was probably screaming, although he heard nothing.

The painting was in his arms, although he couldn’t remember picking it up.

He still didn’t look.

Couldn’t.

But he knew what he would see up there.

He turned around, the akumatized tour guide was walking towards him and he backed away, slowly, step by step.

His heart pounding loudly, feeling lightheaded as his arms trembled.

The eyes of the tour guide were piercing.

‘B-bring him back!’ The words were there, suddenly. Nathaniel wasn’t even sure if he had said them out loud.

Probably, because the guide laughed. ‘No can do! It’s your fault for disturbing the peace!’

‘We didn’t disturb the peace!’ he felt a spark of anger then, because that- That was unfair.

‘Marc and I never did! Those kids did! We just came here to see the paintings! Please!’

‘Yeah, right. You children are all the same. Short attention spans, no freaking appreciation for art, just focused on your stupid talking, stupid phones and stupid loud music! Get out of my museum!’

‘I am an artist myself!’

‘That, he is.’

Nathaniel blinked, and within seconds, a familiar figure appeared, jumping between him and the akuma, as graceful as ever.

Upon seeing the always reliable red-and-black, Nathaniel, finally, breathed, hugging the painting against his chest.

‘Ladybug-’ he said.

She looked at him over her shoulder, winking. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll handle this! I mean, me for now, but I’m sure the cat will show up soon!’ She smiled, and Nathaniel just knew everything would be fine.

‘Go hide somewhere safe, Nathaniel!’

‘Ah, he- Marc-’

‘He got turned into a painting, didn’t he?’

Nathaniel hugged the painting closer, a wave of discomfort spreading through his chest. He felt nauseous.

‘Keep the painting with you and get away from here, Nathaniel. Once we defeat the akuma and I use my miraculous, everything will turn back to normal, and he’ll be with you again. Don’t worry.’

Ladybug took out her yoyo, getting ready to attack the akumatized guide.

‘Tch! You’re always disturbing my museum as well, Ladybug! I’ll turn you into a painting!’ The man readied his headset, and Ladybug elegantly dodged the sound wave.

‘No thank you, I prefer staying real!’ she said, turning back again, locking her eyes with Nathaniel’s.

He blinked, a little startled. ‘Nathaniel! Quick!’

Right-

There was no use standing around, he was no superhero like his comic counterpart. He was just a teenage boy, and his most important friend, his- his writer, his-

Marc-

He got turned into a painting by an akuma.

He had to keep him safe.

Ladybug and Chat Noir would handle the rest.

Nathaniel nodded at Ladybug. ‘Be careful…!’

And he ran.

The only thing he know was putting one foot in front of the other, and holding the painting close to him with all he had.

He didn’t hear the akumatized guide anymore, so he figured he was fighting Ladybug.

Ladybug… She would handle this, wouldn’t she?

Marc would be just fine… wouldn’t he?

In a few moments, he would be there again, so he’d be able to look at his radiant apple green eyes, see that smile accompanied by a slight hint of pink on his cheeks. He’d be able to touch his hand again, intertwine his fingers with his own, soft and safe.

Nathaniel’s heart hurt.

Please, Ladybug…

I’m… counting on you…

He ran and ran, until he entered a section, which was his favorite one, the one he and Marc had been on their way too. It was quiet there, no people, no chaos, no akuma’s.

He stopped running, his throat burning and his lungs aching. Exhausted, he sat down on one of the benches, never letting go of the painting.

And waited.

Waited.

Waited more.

He closed his eyes, thinking of Marc.

He should… tell him… When everything was back to normal. He should…

Slowly, he drifted away as fatigue took a hold of him.

***

A soft hand on his cheek, and he was wide awake, eyes open immediately as he braced himself.

Marc-

The akuma-

Painting-

Where-

He blinked, and apple green eyes were right in front of him, staring into his slightly worried, but then they softened.

‘Nathaniel. What-’

Marc-

Nathaniel had no idea what had just happened, he only knew that he had suddenly wrapped Marc into a tight embrace, and that he was really warm and smelled like home and that he never ever wanted to let go.

Two hands on his back, and Nathaniel knew that the other boy was hugging him back.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the few stray tears that were falling down. He blinked them away quickly before he pulled away from him to look at him.

And breathed.

Marc spoke first. ‘Oh, we’re in the right section now, aren’t we?’

Nathaniel furrowed his eyebrows, then he understood, and he couldn’t help but grin. ‘Well, yeah. A lot happened but yes, uh, I actually got us here. And look, it’s just us here, peace and quiet. We have all the time to look around.’

Marc smiled. ‘I got turned into a painting, didn’t I?’

Nathaniel scratched his head. ‘Kinda, yeah. Wasn’t a lot of fun. I imagined our date a bit differently.’

Oh, whoops-

Had he just-

Betrayed himself?

As he carefully watched Marc’s reaction after his slight mess-up, he decided that it didn’t matter. Because the writer boy was blushing a bright shade of pink, and it was even more adorable than usual.

‘D-date?’

‘Well, if you… don’t mind thinking of it like that,’ Nathaniel said, scratching his head a bit, feeling the blood rise to his own cheeks.

Marc looked at him carefully. ‘I don’t mind.’

Nathaniel smiled. ‘Good.’

‘Then… let’s look around…?’

‘Let’s. Ah, let’s… have some dinner afterwards too, if you have time?’

‘S-sure.’

His stomach felt weird and fluttery, like little sparks of energy were spinning through it, and absently, Nathaniel wondered if this was what people meant by feeling butterflies.

He got up, holding out his hand, and Marc took it.

[proto-homo]

Okay I just reread the first chapter of my manuscript and I’m gagged. I don’t remember this story being this good!! I’m definitely rewriting this. Please join me in being stunned

The Slayers

First Inscription

The first thing they taught us at the Bard's college was that the strings of fate connect everyone in one way or another. Slowly turning and tightening on the lute of life, tuning until the right note is produced, the right event takes place. Tuning eternally until all the strings produce a glorious harmony. I thought it was a crock of shit. Though to be fair, one semester wasn't enough to indoctrinate me to their proposed way of life. Especially when my reasons for being there weren't my own. "Become a bard," my parents pleaded. "Please do something with your life." Their words were harsh but they had to be for high elf prodigal wizards with a son who could make a pint of ale disappear quicker than he could a copper coin. I wasn't a complete magical failure, I just had no knack for it like my parents. They had clawed their way up the hierarchical elven ladder in a world that shunned our kind. We were dusk elves, not quite dark enough to be dark elves and nowhere near fair enough to be the prototypical waifish elf. Opportunities were far and few between for our skinfolk but my parents were changing that perception one draconian ritual at a time. I wasn't so lucky and I could tell growing up that they felt the same. So I followed their wishes and attended the college, learning to focus what little ability and skill I had. Unfortunately that one semester came and went in a deluge of offensiveness. Those backwater mages acted as if they'd never met a dusk elf and I developed an eternal scowl. My skin was an autumnal  symphony of crushed leaves and my eyes were browner than the deepest of earth's hues. We were creatures of nature and magic. Why wouldn't I look this glorious? My question went unanswered and my need for the school went with it. I was out promptly that solstice break, but not without my books and several stolen silver pieces from the campus vault, using the skills they taught me. Needless to say, I was banned and designated  the Rogue Bard. My parents weren't delighted by the news. We don't talk much these days but things are better. Mostly because of the exploits tied to my name. I've played for Kings and Queens all across and below Alstaff, fought bravely against deadly scourges, drank Orcs under the table, and romanced men and women(and Kings and Queens on occasion). All this while chronicling my adventures and deftly avoiding those pesky strings of fate. Or so I'd thought until I received a most auspicious invitation. It was early and I was far from awake when I heard my name being shouted through the halls in a manner I wasn't used to.

“Eonis Everfall of the Highdale Archmages!” boomed the voice down the hall, rousing me from a drunken slumber.

Thin sheets clung to my sticky exposed chest as the sunlight streaming through my window wreaked havoc on my senses. It was summer in the city of Faeron and the sun hung high at an angle above the town that made for astounding harvests and horrible hangovers.

The voice shouted again and I was swiftly reminded that a night of debauchery wasn’t the best thing to do every night. I slid out of bed as coordinated as I could muster. My head swum in dreaming mist as I made my way to the door, only to stop when a realization dawned on me. Nobody knew my full name, hell most people didn’t know my first name, but to call me so boldly and mention Highdale was a sure sign that trouble was brewing.

I staggered to my pack and drew a dirk, trying my best to not be as uncoordinated as the ale was making me. I was never that great at bladed combat but as I inched the door and opened it a crack, I reminded myself that as a bard I was always supposed to be just good enough.

“In here,” I shouted in a half assured tone. Anxiety bubbled in my stomach until the blankets behind me stirred.

“Eonis,” groaned the pile of sheets, “If there’s someone here to kill you tell them to come back later. I’m trying to sleep.” Tavaris emerged from the sheets like a wraith hunting for souls, delivering a glare that nearly made me forget he was naked. His ebony skin shimmered in the light as he stretched, giving off an inhuman glow intensified by his crimson boring into me. He had a predatory gaze, no doubt honed from his decades in the Assassin’s guild but whenever he stared at me, there was a softness behind it.

“You’re the only one who knows I’m here and I doubt you’d let somebody else take up a hit on me. You like a good challenge.”

He snorted as he looked me up and down, saying, “Your stance is terrible. You’d be flayed alive in seconds.”

His eyes darted to the ground and my focus followed to an envelope shooting from under the door. I turned to open it only to be greeted by an empty hall and my unease increased.

“Calm down, it’s just mail,” groaned Tavaris before slumping back into bed. I closed the door and picked up the letter, tearing it open with my dirk.

He was right. It was just mail. Stamped with a royal seal, the letter disclosed information about a formal event taking place in Balethorn, just two cities away. It was to be a splendid debutante's ball and the young miss had requested the presence of the fabled ‘rogue bard.’

I sighed in slight relief. Requests like this were routine but the fact still stood that they knew my name. I sat on the edge of the bed and read the letter to Tavaris as he wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled his face into my side.

“Sounds kinda like a trap,” he said, gnawing at my exposed skin. “Your music’s not that great anyway.”

I nodded along before he said his last line, falling back on him in retribution. He was right though, he had to be in his line of work. Traps, tricks, and treachery were all in the assassin’s handbook and if not for my dashing good looks, I’m sure I would’ve fallen to his blade when we met.

A simple quest made our paths cross; recover the children from the Sin Eater demon and find the one who summoned it. It was all fine and dandy till Tavaris dropped out of the sky on me and strung a garrote around my neck, letting me know there was far more going on than I thought. That day I learned that not everybody wanted to be saved. Some people enjoyed feeding sheep to the wolves to keep them at bay.

It wasn’t all bad though. I at least picked up a few new skills and a new murderous lover.

I looked back to Tavaris and shrugged. “I’ll do it. I haven’t been sucked into a primordial evil soup in months. Could be fun. I’ll let you know when I get back.”

I hopped off of him and began to gather my things before he said, “I won’t be here when you get back.”

I rolled my eyes. It was the same message he repeated every time before he vanished. Sure enough, before I got a second to say anything, he was gone. If there was anything of his I coveted, it was his mode of travel. I shook my head and began to gather my things, bemoaning the burden of the bard.

Lute, flute, sword, bow and arrows, lockpicks, small shield, chainmail, magic totem, magic tome, magic wand, and dirks. I ran through the list of my supplies as I suited up and gave my room the thrice-over before leaving. I carried the letter in hand as I strolled out of the inn. I read it again for good measure.

The insignia was nothing I’d seen before and that was saying something. I was a walking compendium of knowledge, a seeker of truth and historical lore, but as I brushed a finger over the wax stamp closing the envelope, I felt out of my element. I could see the strings of fate winding slowly but this was a new note being played. My only choice was to finish the song.

Faeron was unbearable when I stepped foot out into the sun. Quick cooling incantations were my only solace in the face of summer’s embrace. Out in the world, people were hustling and bustling around the town. Harvest was fast approaching and with it came the panic of superstition and the festival fervor.

There was a tale that traveled through agricultural circles around this time of year, the tale of Lady Amoundour. A lowly farm maiden with the blackest of thumbs prayed to the heavens for a healthy harvest. Her prayers were answered by the Sun with a hefty bounty but the Earth grew spiteful that she didn’t pray more to the dirt and so by way of winding roads, it sent bandits to raid her farmland. Luckily, she held fast in her beliefs of equal reverence and the Sun aided her, bringing its fiery rays upon the bandits and scorching them to dust.

The farmers took it as a parable about having equal deference to the components needed for a healthy harvest. I took it as a sign that the gods were petty and enjoyed us dancing for approval.

Regardless of my beliefs, Faeron was far into the festivities. Wood-carved Sun plaques hung from every home and business. Fresh dirt was tracked all across the ground of the city, ruining my new boots. Bakers yelled for people to come sample their Sun cakes and Dirt puddings, bringing a deluge of child patrons and sending a twinge of disgusted intrigue up my spine. Knowing these people, there was definitely dirt in those puddings.

I snatched up a Sun cake, tossing a few copper pieces to the vendor before making my way through the shops to the square. While my romp with Tavaris had been a great reason to stop in Faeron, I had a real reason for being there.

A huge crowd filled the square, cheering at a man dressed in robes of spun gold standing high up on a stage. He wore a bronze crown painted gold and revelled in the crowd's cheering before urging them to be silent.

“Welcome to the Amoundour Festival!” he shouted and the crowd’s cheering picked back up. I crept through the droves of people lining the square.

Every year the festival was held all across the world but Faeron was special. Only here, they held a very real reenactment of Lady Amoundour’s struggles, much to the dismay of the local farmers. For decades, one farmer would be chosen at random to act as the Lady of this year, devising ways to rescue their crops from very real threats. For decades, they would endure this trial or watch their crops be decimated and their land destroyed thanks to a magical artifact these fools should never have possessed.

I watched in silence, arms folded as the faux-Sun made his way across the stage to his throne and took a seat, gesturing for his servants. Dressed in drab, gray robes resembling clouds, a pair of sullen kids carried a gilded case containing the artifact in question.

It was called the Eternal Sun Rod in certain circles of collectors, a powerful gift from the gods on high. With it, the ruler of Faeron held a tight grip over farmland production, instilling fear into the hearts of any who would try to amass enough wealth to escape his rule. Every decade, he would wipe away the status of one family and every decade the people would cheer because it wasn’t them that time. This would be the last time.

I looked around at the painted on smiles and forced laughter as the faux-Sun did his dance up on stage. Sprinkled in the crowd were the broken faces of the farmers who banded together to hire me. Their offering had been a pittance but I wasn’t in this for the money. I was there to cut the strings of fate wound tightly around this town’s neck.

“The time has come, everyone!” decreed the tyrant as one his clouds dropped to one knee and presented him with a gilded box.

The crowd fell deathly silent when he reached into the box and began to rummage through it for the latest target. All I needed was a name. A name and I could start to put an end to this. I watched the people and saw the pain etched into their faces. Tyrants like this weren’t born in a day, not even a year.

They told me their festival used to be one of peace and joy, that at one point their lives were normal, but slowly it all unraveled until this was their way of life. I knew struggle, I lived it, and there was no way I’d let this happen to anyone else.

I felt the tension skyrocket as he withdrew his hand from the box and I began creeping back out of the crowd.

“Gilda Gletch!” He shouted, “Age sixty-two, childless widow. Oh this will be a quick one. Gilda, pray to the Sun for mercy and beg the Earth for forgiveness!”

Gasps rang out from the crowd. I raced to the edge of the town and hummed a bardic tune to myself. Song of Swiftness, spell number thirty-two in the overpriced pamphlet they gave me. With it, I was off, racing through the trees at breakneck speeds.

I could hear my father’s voice in my head. He’d told me to do something with my life and since that day I resolved to do everything I could.

I broke through the trees and out onto Gilda’s small corner of a farmstead. She was across the small field, sitting on the porch of her home in defiance.

“So it was me,” she called out as I approached her and delivered a strained smile. She nodded in return and waved me over. “It’s fine. Don’t be dismayed. I’ve lived through six of these festivals, seen them grow into something vile. I’m just happy it will all end today.”

Her tone was far from joy in the face of this impending raid and I could tell she had little trust in my ability. I didn’t blame her. We bards were seen as performers, consultants, skilled workers. Warriors were far from our image but that never stopped me.

I drew my sword and knelt at her feet, saying, “You’re right. It will end today. I’ll make sure of that.”

She looked into my eyes and for a split second I saw hope until fear snatched it away. I turned sharply to a band of six masked men emerging from the trees.

“What the hell is this?” asked one of them as he threw down a hololense crystal to project our images back to the town square.

They drew their weapons slowly, whirling them for effect. I stood and raised my sword, drew a wand from my belt and said, “Retribution, damnation, I honestly don’t care what you call me.”

They crept closer to me, closing the distance between us and I said, “Gilda...you might want to get in the house for this.”

A swordsman on my left charged as those words left my lips. I met his blade with my own, parrying the blow and leaping back before daggers sailed through the air. I traced their path to the slow moving Gilda and made a sharp dash to my right, blocking the daggers with my sword.

One by one they came at me, slashing as I leapt out of the way and blocked their strikes.

“Fancy dancer, are you gonna fight back?!” shouted one of the men as he swung his greatsword in an arc.

I ducked below his blade and raised my wand to his stomach, chanting, “Retch.”

He froze instantly, dropped his blade and grabbed hold of himself. He doubled over and emptied the contents of his stomach.

“Never fancied myself for much of a dancer. Playing music was much more my thing!”

I whistled and tapped my sword. Like a tuning fork, it vibrated, sending sonic waves cross the field. The men dropped their weapons and clutched their ears as I drew daggers from my belt and launched a shower of blades.

I sheathed my weapons as they cried out in pain and drew my magic tome, chanting, “Sleep.”

The words drifted through the air, heavy with arcane intent and the men collapsed. I let out a quick sigh and wiped my hands clean. I walked over to each bandit and drew my blades from their sleeping bodies, making eye contact with the hololense crystal.

I held my breath, waiting for the searing light of the sun to crash down on me. When nothing happened I could tell the sight of me dispatching these goons left at least one person in shock.

“I take it by the lack of death rays you’re still stunned at my assault. No matter, I’ll be making it back to the city in just moments for a face to face. Ah, and don’t worry about your little sun trick. This arcane barrier I’m erecting will block out the sun.”

I smirked and raised my tome, chanting once again. My blood was ice water and my breath frost as the tome began to float before me. Waves of ice emanated from me, encircling the little farmland in their icy grasp. I looked up to the sky as I began to run back to Faeron and had to stifle a laugh when nothing attacked my barrier. I’d bluffed to high heavens and he believed me. That barrier of hoarfrost wouldn’t even survive a warm dinner roll bumping against it.

The streets were deserted the second I stepped foot into the city. The tension was thick in the air but I held fast to my defiant image. These people had been pawns in the hands of a mad man for too long. They needed a rallying point.

“Little early to be ending the party!” I shouted as I approached the town square. “If I remember the tale right, the Sun and Earth have a special bond, right? Well maybe it’s time you two got more acquainted.”

The faux-sun sat atop his throne, looking down at me as he lazily turned the rod in his hand. His expression read unimpressed but I was well versed in reading people. My little stunt on the farm had shook him. He had sent his men as bandits to raid a defenseless old woman and met the swiftest resistance. Now he was alone.

“You know nothing of the tale, boy,” he said with a sigh, rolling his eyes in a dismissive manner, “But you will learn the Sun’s power today!”

He slammed the staff on the ground and I chanted a Swift Song before the blazing beam burned through cobblestone. Beams of light followed my every step as I ducked and dodged the blazing energy, much to his frustration.

“Why won’t you stay still?!” he shouted as he jumped up from his throne.

I drew my wand and totem, raising the little symbol to my mouth and chanting, “Solaris”

He slammed the staff again and I froze, letting him hit me head on. The totem chimed when the light hit me, exploding and reflecting a portion of the light back onto the stage. Chainmail singed my flesh but I bit my lip through the pain and focused as the faux-Sun staggered back.

“Larghissimo,” I chanted as I raised my wand and the explosion on stage slowed to a halt.

The faux-Sun froze with a look of horror on his face. I approached, tapped my wand on his nose, and whispered, “Allegro.”

Instantly his head returned to normal speed and his anger came with it. He thrashed in the slowed mass of light, grumbling as he shouted, “Release me at once! I will have your head for this!”

I ignored his blustering and took a seat on his throne before asking, “What’s wrong? You’re supposed to be the sun, no? I’m just helping complete the effect.”

I watched him float their helplessly and thought of the Bard college’s teachings. Our spells were to help, not hinder. Our voices were to be a guide in time of need. Even the spells I’d used on the faux-Sun were non-combative. I couldn’t have hurt him if I wanted and boy did I want to. I let him float in stasis for a few seconds until his anger melted into existential panic.

“I could leave you floating here forever, a ball of light untouched by time,” I whispered into his ear, telling blatant lies.

Most people never studied our power or our limits and the dread in his face showed he was one of these people.

“P-please,” he cried out, sweat pouring from his face. “I-I’ll stop it, I swear. I’ll stop it. I’ll never attack another person again.”

He pleaded before I tapped my wand on the throne. He dropped out of the air as the light dissipated and I grabbed the Eternal Sun Rob, saying, “Not without this, you won’t.”

I waved my wand over the length of the staff, whispering ‘shrink’ into the ether until the Sun Rod complied. It shrank to the size of a quill before I slipped it in my pocket and stomped on the stage.

“People of Faeron, throw open your doors and enjoy your harvest. Now your festival can really begin!”

I shouted and slowly the people took notice. Windows slid open and doors with them before cheering rang out. Finally, their town had been set free. I was greeted with gracious hosts and deep vendor discounts but I couldn’t stay long. Not with the party on my heels.

I refilled my supplies, rented a horse, and I was off. Travel between Faeron and Balethorn was quiet. It seemed I had fulfilled my karmic duty as neither bandit nor bandersnatch attacked me on the road.

In fact, nothing seemed to make its presence known to me along the road. The silence became palpable the further I rode from Faeron but I soldiered on. Curiosity got the best of me and trap or not, I needed to know how they knew me.

The sunlight began to wane and for the first time since I set out, I felt a pair of eyes following. Monstrous trees cast tall shadows all around me, threatening to swallow the path before me. Even the horse felt the tension, straying off the road in fear.

“Shh, it’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you,” I whispered into the ear of the horse, thankful no one was around to see me trying to console him.

A few people see you talking to animals and rumors quickly spread. As if druids are the only ones in touch with nature.

His whining stopped for a second and as I leaned back, I caught sight of a light in the distance, beckoning my presence. This was it, had to be it. The closer I rode the more grandiose the building presented itself.

Dirt roads turned to pristine cobblestone, clacking evenly beneath my horse’s hooves. The mansion was a bulwark of civility in the middle of a savage forest. Gold lanterns lit the path before me, shining bright against solid red brick walls. A low overture began to fill the silence of the forest as a pair of stablemen greeted me at the door.

I dismounted and nodded to them both before they took my horse. Laughter spilled from the opening doors, making me immediately regret coming here.

Haughty laughter and sour notes filled the pauses in forced conversations between noble men and women. There were people of power and influence littering the room, keeping their political rivals at arms length and I began wondering just what I walked into.

“I see I’m not the only one lost here,” said a voice to my left.

I turned to see a young woman smirking at me with plump lips and a viper’s gaze. Thick coils of jet black hair encircled her head, covering one lavender eye. She folded her arms over the low-cut black dress that hugged her more than ample curves, letting the light bounce off her deep umber skin.

Our eyes met and at once I felt like the prey staring down his predator. She stood barely up to my chest but there was something about her that made her presence monstrous.

“S-seems that way,” I stammered before she made her approach.

“Iris Glaive, explorer extraordinaire who’s apparently been tasked with teaching a brat how to go spelunking. And you are?” she asked before looking away from me.

Her eyes scanned the room, continuously reading and assessing the gathered partygoers. There was something dark about her, a sinister air threatening to choke me. I could tell she knew and relished it.

“Eonis...Everfall and yes, I am quite lost. I believe I’m to be the party’s entertainment but it seems they already have a musician.”

Sour notes and uncoordinated key changes threw the entire overture away, leaving nothing but its crumbs behind but no one seemed to take note. I glanced down to Iris and she smirked, saying, “That’s a shame. I would hope your playing doesn’t make my ears bleed like this current amatuer.”

I smirked back to her as she took notice of the talentless talent and felt that predatory gaze soften. She tapped my arm and my heart skipped a beat when she said, “Come, there’s mead, and it’s far away from this sound.”

She turned to walk away and I followed but even a few steps behind, I felt her eyes hard pressed on me. She shared that she had received the same strange invitation as I did and intrigue got the best of her but the idea of her being a plain old adventurer didn’t sit right with me. There was something dark lurking beneath the visage before me and it could tell I saw it.  

She turned on a dime, handing me a glass of mead before giving my glass a light tap in toast and saying, “So you’re a bard, I see.”

I swallowed my mead and nearly choked when she made her quick assessment. I squinted and she raised a hand before saying, “How can I tell, you ask? There’s a little arcane trick they’ve taught you kiddies for centuries and it always makes my nose itch when you try it on me. Don’t you worry. There’s no need to read me. Our meeting won’t matter after tonight.”

She took a slow drink from her glass, smiling softly and I stared in silent contemplation. Who was this woman? What was she?

She smirked as if she’d heard my thoughts before delivering a sly wink. She leaned in close and stood on the tips of her toes, whispering, “Don’t worry bout a thing. Nothing sinister was meant. I was just saying it’s back to adventuring after this. Besides….even if it were sinister, there are plenty of guards here to stop me.”

She tapped my shoulder as she leaned back and her eyes darted around the room. Sure enough, there were several guards covertly stationed around the room at several windows and doorways. At a gala such as this, it wasn’t a strange occurrence to see a slew of guards spread around the place but Iris’ wicked tone seemed to suggest something sinister.

“Enjoy the party,” she curtsied and walking away.

I watched her disappear into the party, greeting high society types as if she’d entertained this sort before. She seemed right at home in this atmosphere of glitz and glamour. Neither gold leafed hors d’oeuvre nor jewel encrusted finery could dismay her sense of status. I found myself unable to take my eyes off her until a guard stepped in my path, causing me to stagger back in alarm.

“Sir Everfall, yes? You’ve been invited to a private dinner with the guests of honor,” he said through the iron helmet covering his face. I stood straight up and shook away my nerves before he said, “Do not worry about the entertainment. You will be compensated for your time here. Please, follow me.”

The guard spoke in a monotone voice, not once waiting to see if I was taking in anything he said. He turned and walked away with the suggestion to follow. I scanned the room for Iris to ask what she’d make of this new private invitation but she was already gone.

By now the room was lost in its revelry and as I passed through the dance floor at a brisk pace behind the guard, I could hear nothing but a string of sour notes being played. I could tell fate was giving me a sign but curiosity got the better of me. If only to see the guest of honor, I followed the guard into a large dining hall separated from the dance floor by a set of towering oak doors.

Inside I was greeted by an assortment of new faces and sure enough, Iris sat among among them. She raised a glass to me with a smirk before turning back to a heated debate between political rivals, instigating their argument.

The guard closed the doors and walked ahead to pull out what had to be my assigned seating. I followed, taking a seat only after noticing the ball of nerves dressed in ornate robes seated next to me. A lithe young man with cheekbones sharper than than the edge of a claymore fidgeted in his seat with his head down. He was a statue carved of red granite, moving incrementally before returning to his starting position. Tendrils of coarse black hair hung loosely over one side of his head while the other side was pinned back, revealing an elven ear.

“Nice to meet another elf here. I’m Eonis, Eonis Everfall,” I tried my best to start up a conversation without having him die of shock.

He nearly leaped out of his skin when he heard my voice, turning slowly to look at me with amber eyes through thick lenses of glasses. He cracked a smile that quickly faded to a grin before he looked back down and nodded.

“R-right. Yes, nice to meet you as well. I’m B-belia, Belia Borfin,” he stuttered before wincing and saying, “S-sorry. I’m nervous. I’ve never been to an event like this. I attended with my Professor and other students but it seems I’ve been separated from the lot.”

His voice rattled worse than his body did and I attempted a grin to ease his nerves, asking, “So you’re a mage?”

He inhaled a sharp breath before looking up and nodding quickly.

“Y-yes, well, I’m attempting to be...I’m not that good right now but my Professor says it’s to be expected of apprentices. I just hope to do my best”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. At least your not the son of archmages who can’t even make a coin disappear. You’ll do just fine.”

I winked to him as he looked into my eyes and he let out a nervous laugh that seemed to ease him a tick.

“Thank you.” He looked around the room, mouth agape in awe, asking, “Any idea exactly who’s party we’re attending?”

I shrugged at his question looking around in awe just as he did before taking another sip of mead. The room seemed to be filled with a hodgepodge of guests. An armored knight sat next to a cobbler and a craftsman on one side of the table while a drunkard, political figures, and socialites sat on the other side of the table. I spotted another patron, masked and lost in prayer before the grand doors slid open and gasps abound from all gathered as a familiar face made his presence known.

“Welcome,” said the tall high elf, dressed in extravagant robes of gold painted moons as he strolled into the room. Whispers spilled from the crowd as he tapped his staff on the ground before taking a seat at the head of the table.

“I’m not sure if an introduction is needed here but I will make one either way. I am Moridon Highwater of the Rolling Glens, Grand Magus of Alstaff.”

He nodded and closed his eyes as the crowds whispering grew but I could only stare in shock. Of course there was no need for introduction.

Moridon Highwater was known throughout the lands. Advisor to the King of Alstaff, Moridon’s power was unparalleled in the field of sorcery. Not even my parents held a candle to his might. He had been born the son magicless vagrants and quickly became the most powerful self-taught mage of our time. He was my mirror.

He opened his eyes slowly and I could feel his gaze brush by briefly as if he’d heard my thoughts. He looked around the table and grinned to the gathered before saying, “I must apologize for the lateness of our young miss. She has asked me to continue the dinner in her stead. It seems her dress was not quite right so we’re having the Modiste Magus conjure up a new dress.”

He chuckled and the room exploded in laughter but I watched in silence at his strained laughter. There was a venomous aura about him, a power he tamped down just to be around the gathered mundane. I could hear Belia’s dinnerware clatter as he put a hand on the table before pulling it away with his other hand.

He was pouring sweat and no doubt trapped between shock and horror at the power before him. I placed a hand on his and looked him in the eye, breathing slowly and nodding for him to follow. He took a few deep breaths before nodding quickly and I let go of his hand. It seemed he had yet to be trained on refining his aura and at his current rate, he was only seconds from being devoured.

My focus darted to Iris and from across the table I spotted her cold intentful stare focused squarely on Moridon as she sipped from her glass. As I looked around, it seemed the whole room was unaware of the power we faced, all except the three of us and the masked knight lost in prayer.

I turned back to Moridon and caught a fraction of a grin before he tapped his staff on the ground. Light flickered from the rose quartz crystal atop an angelic pair of wings that gilded the top of his staff before filling the room.

“Shall we feast?” he said with a smile before the doors opened up and several waiters poured into the room.

A buffet of the finest meats and cheeses littered the table as they brought out more and more entrees and desserts. People began jumping at the food before placing could even finish. They were ravenous, insatiable, and I couldn’t help but lose my appetite at the display.

My focus drifted to Moridon who sat stone-faced, watching the carnage without taking a bite to eat and I swallowed hard before asking, “This is nice and all, but who exactly is this ‘young miss’ we’re here to meet?”

His eyes darted to mine and I nearly collapsed in my seat from his predatory gaze. I could feel him, wriggling through my thoughts, through the entirety of my being before Iris cleared her throat.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” she said in defense of my questioning and the room seemed to take a break from eating all at once.

Moridon delivered a strained grin and I tried to hop out of my seat to no avail. I was paralyzed in fear.

“Oh you may know of her. Prestigious royalty from a land far from here,” he began to say as his voice lilted. “She was once the Queen of an entire realm, you see, but as you know, not everything lasts for everyone. Not even the eternal.”

He cut Iris a sharp glare before his face returned to a grin in seconds. I could see her shaking slightly but not once did she move to put down the glass in her hand. The mead vibrated with her nervous energy before Moridon continued.

“It seems not everyone was satisfied with her rule and so, under the cover of darkness, like the spineless wretches they were, her royal court committed a heinous act. You see, the young miss couldn’t be killed, no, not with the power she possessed. Her court knew it and to see her deposed, they hatched an ingenious plan. A crystal was forged with the power to capture a god and on that night they did as such, ensnaring her and shattering its pieces….Only, they thought this would be the end of the young miss but as the crystal shattered into endless shards, so did her essence, dispersing into the world and finding homes in the oddest of places. Knights, cobblers, craftsmen, and bards.”

His voice boomed as he said his last line and the room was frozen in horror before one of politicians screamed in terror and leaped from her seat. The whole room erupted in a panic and screams could be heard from the hall just beyond the doors. All the while, Moridon remained seated, smirking coyly.

“Oh there’s no point in running. Now that you’ve ingested the flesh and blood of the young miss, you won’t make it far,” he said before one of the guests jumped from their seat and doubled over, grabbing his stomach in pain.

He grabbed his throat as figures moved up it and tendrils shot out of his mouth. I leaped from my seat as Iris grabbed her stomach, brandishing my wand and shouting, “Wretch! Wretch! WRETCH!”

In rapid succession, I fired several spells around the room before my stomach rumbled and the doors flew open. I turned the wand on myself and fell to my knees as the searing pain of bile raced up my throat.

I pulled Belia under the table and grabbed a dagger from my boot as the marching of the guard’s feet filled the room.

“Don’t move!” I shouted before several hands pulled me away.

I turned my dagger on the armored hands of my captor, shouting, “Allegro!”

The spell took off, sending my dagger hand rocketing through the air with enough force to pierce metal but the guard barely registered the pain. My eyes darted around the room and I spotted Iris’ blood covered mouth before I looked to the still seated Moridon. Stoned faced and silent, he watched as the guards swarmed everyone before tapping his staff on the ground.

Darkness filled the edges of my eyes and then before I knew it, I was gone.

[tacticiansquill]

Tides Unknown - Chapter 1: it begins

A reincarnation AU that comes after Birthright canon. Xander is a sailor of Nohr that meets Corrin who longs for adventure, and is headstrong despite the situation. Together they'll embark on the seas, meet both old and new allies, face their inner turmoils, and discover the link that binds them both.

Note: there are certain quirks that may be different from the original Fates verse, due to the Birthright having a lingering effect that will be explored in time.

Fluffy white clouds filled the sky, and the sun took mercy on the town below, and yet the Corrin mourned as she watched strangers throw her rent money away without a care in the world.

She strolled in the nicer area of town that drew the merchants in and stimulated the economy. The walls were always painted in fresh coats, and the pillars stood strong in contrast to the dirtier sector in which most residents made their homes. The shops and restaurants made it a good area to sell flowers, but intense wanderlust struck her as she watched them come and go, even as she stood out in her plainer dresses than the noble folk. Sometimes those that took a liking to her brought her back trinkets from abroad that she stashed away with great care. She went so far as to create elaborate security measures for her precious treasures. She couldn't fault the people for playing a small game, as they did take kindness on her (she assumed her looks played a part in this).

For that reason she eyed the large, gaudy wishing fountain in the square with disdain. It held a small fortune that would actually solve her problems, yet it would all just rot away uselessly.

Corrin didn't put much stock into superstition, for fun or otherwise. She certainly didn’t have lady luck on her side in her years. But even before her luck took a darker child, as a child, she never bothered with eyelash wishes or blowing dandelions. Birthday wishes were a waste of time, and she didn’t spare shooting stars a second glance.

If she wanted something, she would get it herself. That was that. Yet, her stash all held items she’d sourced from others. Clips and books, toys and spices, things she yearned to see with her own eyes in markets she’d never been able to go to herself. 

To see so many tourists having their merry time throwing coins into the fountain always had her envious. How frivolous, to be able to travel the world and wish for what one already had! To spend at her leisure, and not have to rely on someone else to get a taste of the world. Just as she felt another pang of envy, a most delightful sound reached her ears. A stray coin that rolled away from the fountain, and towards her feet. Well, no one seemed to be missing it greatly--

 She snatched it up between her fingers and grinned at it’s glimmer. How generous of its owner. She did feel bad about robbing a wish… she turned her head from coin to the fountain that so irked her, when someone bumped into her and sent the coin flying in the air.

The loss of her prize made her mind up, and she took quick strides over the hot cobblestone to retrieve the gold coin. “Butterfingers!” she scolded herself as she fumbled with it, and just as it flew into the crowd, another hand grabbed it with ease. And as soon as she felt ease, she felt loss once more.

The man who was her temporary savior deposited the coin into the fountain with ease, and his golden locks shined brilliantly as he looked at her. “Well now, it certainly would have been unfortunate should you have lost your wish. You offered a handsome amount there.”

“My wish ,” she pouted, “was to keep that. I’m no noble, to be able to spare such wealth for a tourist attraction. Oh,” she added when the man’s smile froze in place as he realized what he had done. “I’ve spoken rudely haven't I? I suppose I should thank you for at least trying to help me.”

“''Twas my mistake to assume your intentions. May I rectify my error? I've incurred you a great loss, I imagine.” He extended his arm to her, and she looked over him to judge his character.

His brow was not furrowed, yet appeared stern all the same. He had strong features and looked older than she, and he was handsome for certain. He looked like a man that kept a level head, yet his actions showed some form of ineptitude that she couldn't analyze from a short glance. His loose clothing and kerchief gave away that he was a sailor of sorts, and the scent of the sea clung to him to confirm so. Even if there was the likely risk of him being a flirt, she was intrigued. After all, how could she have any adventure if she never tried anything.

Said all those who died stupidly , she thought dryly.  

“And how are you making it up to me?” she inquired.

 “What do you wish for?” 

“To travel the world.” Her eyes lit up as she said so, and her annoyed countenance melted away just a little.

He gave a loud laugh that prickled at her. Was it so silly for a man like him to hear. At her frown, he quickly sobered and explained himself. “Please do not misunderstand...I don't laugh at you. It's just pleasant to hear something so pure and naive.” 

“It's not pure, nor naive. What, will you buy me some necklace that I can pawn off later. Or simply spare me the trouble and pay me back?” She held out her palm with an expectant look. 

“You know,” He scratched his chin, “I don't think that coin was of your possession to begin with. A hefty sum wouldn't be something you would play with so carelessly, after all.”

Her ears pinked. Damnation, the man was more observant than she gave him credit for. Perhaps he knew so, and devised this entire plot so they would chat. “Then why do we still converse?”

“Because you have piqued my interest.”

“Ah,” she said with mock remorse. “A flirt after all.” She turned on her heel when his next words had her pause.

“So you wish to travel the world?” 

“What is it of your concern?”

“None, perhaps. It is a pure wish. However, the world has great evils.”

She gave an impatient exhale and glanced to the side. “It's not exactly sunshine and daisies here either. At least you get to escape to a boat at night, with only the sea to stop you.”

“I do not wish to turn the conversation heavy--”

 “Do not stop for my sake.”

“Very well. It is as you say. You can escape trouble by sailing away….but burdens are never easy to stop bearing.”

“Then teach me. Take me with you,” she challenged him, and the man sighed.

“You don't even know my name, yet you decide to embark to god knows where with a strange man. What if I were to sell you off and rid my hands of you.”

“I can handle myself in a scuffle,” she muttered, her pride taking a dull blow. After a short while

of silence, her curiosity got the better of her. “Where would you take me anyways?”

“Would you like to see?”

“Yes,” she said and stepped ahead of him. “Let me see where my unfortunate fate will take place. I do think I’d fetch good coin.”

He didn't offer his arm again, but he took a leisurely pace beside her as he guided her to his ship. The docks were situated nearby, as they wanted to draw all the sailors and travellers to the bazaar they were in. “Are you trying to convince me to put you on the market?”

 “Well you won't hire me. Do you not take women in your crew?”

 “On the contrary. I have formidable women that have saved me in many a fight. You, however, seem to be a worrisome hire. To put it kindly, naive.”

 “Unkindly?”

 “A fool,” he laughed, and she pouted at him once more. “I jest. You eye me with much  skepticism, yet you follow me easily. Truly, you’re an odd character.”

 “I am very skeptical,” she said as they reached the docks. They walked to a rather handsome ship, and she wondered just what fortune it cost to buy it. He dressed much shabbier than his boat-- ‘twould make a fine vessel to travel in. “I told you, I'm very capable. I beat up some boys the other day.” She climbed up and on to his dock, and admired it. She had never stepped foot on a boat before, especially not one as fine as this.

He smirked. “Had their voices cracked yet?”

She scowled for a moment, then returned to gawking around. “Hey, are you the captain?” She narrowed her eyes as she judged his attire again.

“Indeed I am. Care to see my quarters?”

“A risky proposition. But I’ll take your bait.” She dashed in front of him and asked to see every part she’s ever read about in books. Maps, and compasses, navigation devices and ship tools… everything was so fascinating to her, it already felt as though she were in another world. “Where is your hat?”

“Pardon?” he paused as he was in the midst of moving aside some barrels so she could look in the storage.

 “Don’t captains wear hats?”

“I… am not that sort of captain.” He spoke honestly.

“Then, are you a pirate?” That too, sounded true. 

“Not that either. I simply make deliveries and run errands,” he spoke as though it were the truth, yet deep down Corrin knew he was hiding his true occupation. She didn’t think of him shady… but she was dying to know the truth.

 “Then there should be no problem if I tag along then? You don't do anything dangerous, right?”

 “If that is what you think. You should be going home now.”

 “Are you… leaving today?” She spoke with reluctance. Though she knew him not long, nor had much reason to be attached, deep inside she wanted to get to know him better.

 “In the morning. So I’ll be taking your leave once I see you off.” With a nod he indicated that they should make their exit, yet they both dragged their feet as they left the boat and went their way back into town.

 They walked together in mostly silence. She stood at his side closer than before, and pointed out places of interest to him. He listened with genuine attention, and just as they went back to a cheerful banter, they arrived at the shabby little neighborhood she called home. Dilapidated and dusty, it wasn't somewhere she was proud to show him.

 “Ah….well, don't get into any more trouble,” she kicked away a pebble as she stood away from him to wave him goodbye.

 “Don't wander on to any strange ships.” He hesitated, then gently patted her shoulder before he turned away. The sight of his retreating back wasn’t pleasant to see… but it wouldn’t be long until she saw him again. She couldn't just ignore the niggling feeling that she couldn't let him leave. Like she would be left behind if he were to go. And beyond that… this was her chance to explore. Even if they dumped her at the next port, it would be a hell of a lot better than being stranded in the same place forever.

 Luckily for Corrin, he gave her a time frame to make her move, intentional or not. Until morning. That was the time she had to sneak onto his ship and stay hidden.

 She gathered her clothes, necessities, life savings, and her beloved souvenirs into a bundle. With some rope in hand and a candle, she slipped into the night and said goodbye to the home she lived in for so long. She didn't hold much attachment to it. She had grown up with her family somewhere else after all. This place did nothing but remind her that she just had herself.

 Though it was a risky move to abandon all and stow away on a ship that didn't want her, she didn't hesitate. She felt an unreasonable amount of trust towards the captain… yet she didn’t even know his name yet. A voice murmured in her head as she thought that. It was fuzzy, and annoying. She bit her lip and stood still to focus. Her head cleared, yet she felt as though she had just lost something. “Ah… I must be tired.” Corrin ignored all else and retraced her steps back to his ship.

 What luck! They were hauling merchandise onto the ship. She could sneak in easily! She crept around some crates, and knelt into a box of cheeses. “Stinky… Do they really eat this?” Even as she wrinkled her nose she nibbled on a variety to pass the time. Finally, she felt the crate lift and hoisted into the ship. This was it--now or never to make a run for it. She felt more excitement than trepidation, and the adrenaline of it all had her running on a high. After a while she was set down, and all was quiet.

 Now she would just have to wait out the ni--The lid was being slid off and light filled her little hiding spot. Oh no no no! She didn't think they would indulge in dairy so late in the evening! She peeked up very, very slowly and saw a familiar wooden room, and an even more familiar face.

 “Ah, there you are,” the man held out a hand to her. “Having a feast are we?”

[jackcarson-foxfutureworks]

I'D LIKE TO TALK ABOUT | PREY (Casual Game Review)

A THRILLING & PARANOID DAY IN THE LIFE OF MORGAN YU & HIS TYPHON TURMOIL ABOARD TALOS I

As anyone is when they are passionate about something, they like to talk about it. It isn't any different with myself and games.

These "casual reviews", as I like to call them, are in no way professional or official. I may try to sound and look like so, but believe me, this is simply me trying to coordinate my ramblings on stuff I enjoy or don't enjoy in games. I won't cover every last bit as there will be parts I miss or haven't experienced. On to it.

Beware of minor spoilers.

I don't quite remember the goings on of the original Prey of 2006, nor did I have much interest going forward when Prey 2 was announced, so I had little reaction to hearing of its cancellation. Fast forwarding to E3 of 2016 and the Bethesda conference where Arkane Studios revealed Prey would return but as a rebooted franchise, there was a strange part of me that caused my ears to perk up and think "Oh wow, Prey is back, can't wait to see what it's like" upon seeing that logo creep in. It would seem I did have fond memories of the original after all or was I just in a nostalgic stupor of late for games of days gone making their grand returns?

With MachineGames' Wolfenstein: The New Order kicking off this resurgence back in 2014 and then id Software and DOOM taking 2016 by the scruff of its neck and ramming a double-barrelled shotgun down its throat, would this new lick of paint for Prey really keep the ball rolling for Bethesda Softworks, Arkane Studios and reboots for decades-old franchises?

It is with great satisfaction that I say yes, Prey does exactly that.

I think the moment Prey stole my complete attention for the next several days after release was the immediate departure early on in the game from the every day bright and tranquil life of luxury that protagonist Morgan Yu woke up to each morning, filled with high-rise apartments and executive helicopter rides through a glistening and almost literal golden city. You begin to realise something is not quite right here, and you almost wonder why you'd ever get aboard Talos I in the first place with things not exactly running smoothly down on this side of Earth for TranStar, the company responsible for the research and development of neuroscience, run by yourself and big brother, Alex.

It's rare in my experience for a game to have such a standout opening that makes me question everyone and everything immediately and for the remainder of my time with it. I did just that when you literally break down the walls of your supposed reality and find yourself actually on Talos I, and for the past three years too. It's an incredibly strong opening that not only thrusts Morgan into the thick of it but it also never feels like the freedom that someone would experience from breaking loose of the simulated confines of Morgan's faux happy-go-lucky lifestyle.  It's this intrigue that creates a continuous need to delve deeper into Prey's background and uncover what life was like aboard Talos I before its Typhon infestation that kept me putting one foot in front of the other. If only moving forward wasn't my biggest fear.

While Prey's earliest moments are brimming with confusion and hesitation, nothing emphasises the latter more than the dastardly Mimics. Mimics are the first variety of Typhon you'll come across in your jaunt around this ghastly space station, and you'll start to wish they weren't. As the name would suggest, these creatures are very apt at blending in, and it's not just coffee mugs and lamps you'll be squinting at with increasing suspicion, but even the more enticing of items may not be the friend you're looking for. Even after the paranoia set in of watching my every move and pointing a great big finger at any object that even struck me as marginally out of place there were still moments throughout Prey, including late on, where I'd fall victim to a mimic in a disguise followed by varying profanity, most commonly of the "I f***ing knew it" kind. A heated firefight would often lead me to retreat for nearby health or cover, only to recoil in horror as my salvation bursts into a spindly black spider-like monstrosity. It's these moments where Prey becomes the tensest video game experience, although the feeling becomes a little dampened later on when access to mods for the binocular-esque Physcoscope allows detection of hidden mimics.

As for the rest of the game's line-up of deadly enemies, I'd get ready to see a whole lot of black shape-shifting goo of varying size because there's not much more to see outside of the Typhon organisms that stalk every corner, aside from a few mind-controlled humans here and there. Even if the aesthetic of each variation of these creatures isn't something to be marveled at, the difference between them always forced me to switch up my playstyle. The lesser evils such as Mimics and Phantoms are your run of the mill type, fast and dangerous, using a simple technique such as freezing them with the GLOO Cannon (more on that shortly) and then beating them to a pulp with the wrench will suffice. Moving on up are Telepaths and Technopaths, big floating cubes that either control people or machines. Blasting out your own Typhon abilities or the selection of ability blocking grenades against these menaces can do wonders. And then there's the Nightmare...which I'd suggest throwing everything you've got at it. Eventually, you'll come across other strains of Typhon and variants of familiar faces, such as a stronger Mimic, or a Phantom that harnesses electricity or fire, but dispatch method tends to be the same, albeit a few more whacks with the wrench or extra shell from the shotgun. Beyond the Typhon and humans, you'll meet operators, which are best described as desktop PC cases. These sometimes helpful robots can become corrupted and will fight against you, but as is with most of the enemies, not too out there in the realms of imagination.

In your bid to wipe out the Typhon threat from Talos I, you're given an arsenal that ranges from the standard gun-toting Silenced Pistol and Shotgun to the absolutely ludicrous Recycling Charge Grenade. While the selection of weaponry isn't wholly unique, there's a charm to some. Most notable of all is the aforementioned GLOO Cannon, a gun that can shoot big blobs of...glue, but this super tough and quick hardening glue is useful for stopping those pesky Mimics and co. in their tracks, perfect for any wrench flailing madmen to pummel. What the GLOO Cannon has over the rest is versatility, as it triples up as a puzzle solver and platforming device thanks to its ability to stick to most surfaces. Can't quite reach a ledge or balcony high up? Then just create a staircase of GLOO. Is a corridor blocked off by oil on fire due to a burst pipe? Simply plug up the hole and extinguish the fire with the power of GLOO. It's no surprise that I found myself relying on the GLOO Cannon more often than not to get myself out of a jam or into a tiny compartment that was otherwise unreachable. Think of it as Prey's Gravity Gun or Portal Gun, however, don't expect it to reach similar heights in the best ever video game weapons. In addition, each weapon (With the exception of the wrench and silly nerf inspired Huntress Boltcaster crossbow) can be upgraded using the countless upgrade kits laying about the station. The system isn't as in-depth as let's say adding a scope to the Q-Beam or Dragon's Breath ammo for the Shotgun, but it does allow for increased firepower, larger ammo capacity, better handling and faster reloading, with some relevant replacements for the more Sci-Fi weapons.

If a happy trigger finger isn't your style, or if you're looking to mix and match like a shapeshifting, elemental bending John Wick then Prey gives you the option of working through two distinct skill trees. Using these skills allows for some tailor fitting of whatever playstyle you're going for. There are paths for hacking and repairing if you're the kind who wants to see beyond every door or cash in on the goodies hidden in each safe. A junk hoarder would benefit from the suit skills which grant extra inventory space or maybe it's as simple a choice as wanting to soak up more damage with increased health. If that's not enough flavour on your plate then soon enough you can travel down the path of the Typhon. Here you can literally fight fire with fire with Superthermal as you lay down explosive proximity traps that roast Phantoms and Mimics where they stand, and even bend them to fight alongside you for a short duration with Mind Jack, which is also a useful tool outside of the Disrupter Stun Gun to incapacitating mind-controlled humans. Not all the Typhon abilities are of the aggressive kind, like Mimic Matter for example, which allows Morgan to beat the Mimics at their own game by morphing into most objects, including turrets further along the path. Another useful ability for getting into locked rooms should you not have the right hacking skill or keycard. I had fun figuring out which object to morph into in order to squeeze between security bars or split doors. Plus, a bouncing coffee mug is as about as much levity Prey can amount to. I personally kept to the human skills more as I never felt the need for many of the Typhon abilities, especially the powers for battle as I felt the guns did enough to dispatch most enemies I encountered. And upon learning that there were consequences to giving into the Typhon side of me, I was slightly disappointed to find that all it amassed to was the turrets would eventually recognise me as Typhon material and turn against me, forcing me to either break or hack them. I would've appreciated a little more consequence for dabbling in alien arts. That being said, I enjoyed the freedom and change of pace these skill trees gave me.

However, in order to use said skills you'll be needing Neuromods Luckily, just like the weapon upgrade kits, they are littered around Talos I, usually hidden away or rewarded for completing quests and you won't be starved of these precious upgrades. Finally, chipsets can be gathered and installed to your suit or PsychoScope to improve Morgan's combat prowess. Increased chance of criticals with a shotgun or resistance to energy attacks are just some of the many benefits from finding these. It literally is "play Prey your way".

And maybe you're like me, that inner treasure hunter that rises to the surface, eager to find every Neuromod, every upgrade kit, and other special items to improve Morgan as a whole. So chances are you'll be bounding back and forth across the numerous facilities that Talos I has to offer, once they've become available of course, and thanks to non-linear level design, Prey's environments, despite the limitations you might think of for a large tube in space, are sprawling. The likes of BioShock and Deus Ex come to mind, and obviously, Arkane's other franchise Dishonored, with regards to exploration in Prey. In that, Prey encourages you to stray from the beaten path, scoping out alternate routes to your objective or uncovering a dark secret within a restaurant kitchen. It's simple in thought, you have three doors to one room but each door presents a different challenge, whether the challenge you pick is easier or harder than the others, is up to you, but Arkane have woven it in a way that not only feels complex but super rewarding when you reach that tiny hidey-hole in the rafters of a common room crammed with supplies and gadgets galore. In what most would experience as an around estimated fifteen hours long game, my play time reached an unexpected twenty-six hours, because I was drawn to every inch of Talos I, and I'm still sure I have much to discover on a second playthrough. Movement around the station is smooth sailing thanks to the abilities and tools you'll acquire but if I had to have one gripe with my voyage through Prey's bountiful space station it's that the sections involving zero gravity were often clumsy, disorientating and slow, never more apparent than when floating in the outer space of Talos I's exterior where items of interest are few and far between.

If at any point the idea of retracing your steps through the same environment over and over again sounds about as appealing to you as a slap with a wet fish then I don't blame you. You'll be pleased to hear that roaming Talos I is far more appealing than that. Prey is definitely not a powerhouse in terms of graphical fidelity but the pseudo-alternate history angle really lends itself to the aesthetic. It's a perfect blend of progression, exploration and environmental story-telling that I haven't seen in a long time. Every part of Talos I has something to offer. Whether it's the opening hub of the Lobby with many layers of elevation or the colourful plantation and thick forest sections of the Arboretum to the chilling emptiness of the G.U.T.S, I was never tired of returning to each area as I was always discovering something new. Each location, big or small, had a story to tell about the people of Talos I before most of their unfortunate demises. You'll collect audio logs, notes, read emails and more as you start to piece together how things went terribly wrong, but it's also more personal than that, as you'll be stumbling across interrupted games of Dungeons and Dragons, complicated and typically doomed love affairs, and echoes of your own past. In some cases, I become more engrossed with characters I'd never meet and their intimate and tragic stories than the living, breathing survivors I saw.

Morality is a massive theme throughout Prey, as you can be faced with many an ultimatum and as Morgan, you're tasked with destroying Talos I in hope to prevent the Typhon spreading to Earth so I was happy to be faced with a choice regarding the outcome of this supposedly doomed space station and the passengers on board. I'm certain I'm in the larger demographic with my choices, as I found I'd often choose to save as many people as possible. This, coupled with my mission to destroy Talos I, made for some interesting weighing up of each of my choices. At one point I had the option of allowing a ship, that left Talos I just before the outbreak of Typhon, to safely make it back to Earth, or blow it up due to the possibility of Typhon presence onboard. This isn't a decision which has a right or wrong answer, nor does it allow you to find evidence to further lean towards saving them or killing them. It is a decision you must make then and there and it's refreshing to be confronted with a question that isn't morally black or white. In hindsight, not only did that choice completely contradict my decision with a similar choice further down but upon reflection, I still wasn't sure why I changed my mind. Was it because the latter choice leaned more towards a typical black or white choice? Or did a sense of regret have me looking for redemption? It's a testament to Prey's open decision making which has me still looking back and questioning if I made the right choice when the credits rolled.

And when they did I initially felt a little let down by Prey's conclusion. If it wasn't for a pretty standard main story, which is totally outweighed by the personal ones, then I'd be sticking Prey way up there, possibly even higher than the likes of BioShock and Dishonored. Yet, it's hindered by a jarringly sudden end with little resolve right up until the quite predictable post-credits reveal. There's enough to warrant a second and maybe even a third playthrough with more abilities to test, stones yet to unturn and choices to make but don't expect an entirely new experience.

MY VERDICT

Prey won't please everyone, and it certainly will miss out on a few game of the year nominees from some, but that doesn't stop it from being a solid, sci-fi action adventure. Only slightly let down by a par for the course main story, some sluggish zero-g and pedestrian combat, Prey is best when things quiet down and you're whisked away from the fight to poke your head into every nook and cranny of Talos I and the very personal stories it's once thriving community have to tell. As for me, this thrilling and paranoid day in the life of Morgan Yu and his Typhon turmoil aboard Talos I is well worth the trip to the stars.

Reviewed on PC

Until next time.

Stay inside. Play video games.

Just another reason to hate Mondays.