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courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

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Hallow ch XI - For CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns Ch 11 / ?? - In which a monster hides in plain sight

The library had several Kitsune in it when Killian arrived, but as he climbed to the upper level, his immediate concern became the Dragon in the corner. Haku was furiously scribbling down information from a stack of books, throwing them aside in frustration. Killian made the pointed note to stay far away from him and whatever had caused his anger.

The latest ledgers of the island census were missing as far back as five years, and many of the cultural or study of heritage scrolls were also missing as Killian searched for them amongst the rows. He found a few scrolls of painted art that showed depictions of what the rite aimed to do, though; a Fox spirit in full splendor attacking the barrier and breaking free, it's teeth and many tails shining on display. The actual rites were a mystery as he found those books missing too.

On a sneaking suspicion, he glanced over at the piles of books Haku had stacked at the desk where he worked, still frantically taking down notes on whatever he was studying. Seeing the same bindings that matched the books in the series, Killian sighed. Of course the Dragon was using them. Resolving to wait, Killian read instead the long history recorded by what once were the Dragon elders, long gone now from the world.

In the beginning, there was fire, ice, air, and earth. We came from all four, the blending of these elements making way to the subtler magics, but leaving us perfect in primordial effortlessness. From the blending of the four came the Old Gods, the Elementals, and then magic itself. After that, time, then light and dark, followed as the Gods and Elementals made this world, and all the vast realities between. We found no use for time, for light, or darkness. Only magic, and only the elements were as wild as we. At one time we too could traverse the planes of existences, but that gift has been long lost to us.

From magic and the elements came the old creatures, many lost to new as they burned too bright, stars bursting into a supernova, creating, changing and destroying the others. Kitsune, Draugr, Kraken, Gorgons, Sphinx, Harpies - they all come from the old magics, brought to life by their own will until there was either nothing left or just enough for permanence.

Fire and ice made water, which made seas; earth and fire made jewels and metals, it forced rock from the seas that cooled into land. Air, earth, and water made forests that towered above the hungry ground while ice and air made snow, and water, fire, and air created storms. The Old Gods created their own beings from the many new elements that were created; starlight and moonbeams graced Elves as sunbeams and breezes molded the first Fae, born with wings. Dirt and jewels made Hob-Goblins sparkle like quartz, Anisapi the first to stand guard of places of power. Merfolk and the sea dwellers came together as foam that topped great waves and salt, the Gods loving their children as long as they could before their ends befell them. By war, sickness, age, or simply choice, they left the world to who they hoped would treasure it.

The Old Gods did not teach their children enough, however. They did not teach their children to share, or warn them of the dangers they had kept hidden away. Trying to be like their creators, and with the last few Deities hanging on, an unknown coalition created mortals. While weak and without vitality, they were vicious, bred quickly in their short lives, and became impossible to eradicate. Before long, they were the dominant species of the world created for us. They learned our weaknesses, they learned how to take down the last of the Gods. They cornered us until something was done.

The first wars cut lands from mortal hands and placed them in our own, establishing the sacred places that mortals should not tread. Even amongst the non-believing, the superstitions and deadly reminders of trespass passed easily through their generations.

After that, space was limited amongst the races. A peaceful mountain dwelling species of Fae came under attack for their resources and labor by Jeoff N'lan, who imprisoned them. It wasn't until rumors of an insurrection came under the rule of his son, Jeorg N'lan, that their population was decimated. We know them now as -

"Reading something good?" Emma's voice made him jump, and he came back to himself with a jolt. She rested her chin on his shoulder, and he could practically taste the honey and sunshine smell that graced her. Coming out from behind him, she placed a picnic basket on the table as he closed the book and set it aside. "I didn't mean to make you jump, it must have been a good book -"

"Interesting, but not necessarily good," Killian shrugged. He took in her appearance, as she had changed. She looked even better than she had previously, a red gown which had a square cut neckline, her body poured into it as he tried not to notice how lovely she looked. How did she not know the effect she had? He wondered it idly, trying to understand why he was even feeling the effect of her beauty. Sighing, she sat next to him, slumping with her head in her hands. He hesitated when he went to lay his hand on her shoulder, his eyes watching her chest rise, the sigh making her bosom press up, freezing him.

"Killian, I am not sure how to say this," she began nervously, biting her lip. Under the light of the library, her eyes were sea glass in the sun, bright and sharp. Their appraisal snapped him out of his inappropriate trance, and he refocused quickly as he took in her words. "But I'm beginning to get a little bit scared. There's something off here, and after observing what they're proposing for this rite, I don't know -"

A book slammed shut across from them, Haku looking at them with his steely eyed gaze. Emma rubbed her temples, body tensing. The Dragon strode over to them, leveling his glare at Emma from across the table. She looked away, and Killian immediately felt ready to spring, coiled in defense of her.

"You know then, and you know that you could easily take her place?" Haku said quietly, his voice cold. Emma nodded, swallowing hard.

"What is there to know? Your people chose the Maiden, Emma has nothing to do with -" Killian argued, but Haku let out a yell, his nails digging into the table.

"You do not have any right to speak on this Dark One. If your grievances are absolved with this Royal, let mine be heard: Don't you feel any repentance for anything, or do you like the weight of your family's legacy on your shoulders?"

Emma closed her eyes, flinching when the Dragon brought his fist down on the table with a loud bang.

"That's enough -" Killian hissed, but the Dragon shook his head.

"It will never be enough. You were a hero to our people because you were the answer to the violence her family created, Dark One. We prayed for your return, your revenge on the Royal family, revenge on the Goblins - you were supposed to mete out justice. To think you were distracted by this, this silly girl!" Haku spat at Emma, and she yelped.

Killian ripped the Dragon across the table by his collar, blood pounding in his ears. Lifting his arms, he threw Haku, the Dragon stumbling into the bannister of the stairs down to the main level.

"Get away from us," Killian hissed.

"Gladly," Haku gritted out as he straightened, sending a pointed look at Emma.

Killian watched him walk away, Emma shaking in her seat.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" he asked, before sitting next to her. She shook her head, seemingly trying to find words to explain.

"These rites - Killian, I'm scared. I -"

"There you are! Oh how quaint, a basket lunch. Who knew royals as far up in status as you knew how to prepare one," Maleficent purred, walking up the stairs. Lilly followed, her head bowed as she nervously fidgeted with her hands, Isaac trailing behind her. "You ran out so quickly Princess, we weren't done talking about coming to an agreement."

Emma looked up at Killian, pleading with her eyes.

"The princess and I were talking about your rituals, actually, and thought we might have a moment alone -"

"Yes of course, but later in the day. There's still so much to show her!" Maleficent purred, yanking Emma back, Lilly catching her as she stumbled. "Princess Emma still has things to see, but I'll leave Isaac here to help you with any questions. Lilly, make haste, come now girls."

Killian smiled apologetically, Emma's look of panic blocked by Isaac's body.

"What do you want to know? I know almost everything in these books, and I'm the author of more than a few." The shorter man puffed up his chest proudly, and Killian inwardly screamed. Letting his jaw clench into something he hoped resembled a smile, he straightened.

"I would like to know a bit about the workers I've seen around. The ones that wear the masks and the black outfits, are they a servant class or some leftover of the plague?" he asked, quickly moving to grab the books Haku had been using. Carrying them over, Isaac wrung his hands nervously.

"Oh, the husks. The Dragons call them 'no faces' because of the masks and their woolen veils, but I think that's a tad tasteless," Isaac chuckled lightly. "They're those who have served us, starting back some sixty odd years. Those left live together with their attendants or with their families if their families so choose."

Killian narrowed his eyes. "Served you? They seem…" He trailed off, unable to find a way to make his meaning less blunt.

"They seem 'gone'? Well yes, of course they do, and they should! They are fighting, their very essence of spirit attacking the barrier of this prison." Isaac grinned, spreading his palms upward. "That's what the rites are for, they create a trance like state that becomes greater every consecutive turn. This is the year we break free, I can feel it."

"And you want Emma to do this? What are the risks? Is there danger involved -"

"Now now. The princess is surely capable of making her own choice or coming to you for counsel, yes?" Isaac asked, dropping his hands. His head quirked to the side, and he shrugged. "Besides - The only ones that fear are those who aren't faithful to our teachings. They believe that their loved ones are empty, faceless and lost, not that they are husks waiting for their successful return. The day comes that those still living will have a reunion of body and mind."

Killian thought about Haku's reaction, how vitriolic it was, and glanced at the stack of books. He returned Isaac's grin and nodded.

"Of course. Thank you for elucidating."

Isaac bowed, backing away. "It was my pleasure to illuminate. I must be off to see to final preparations. Should Emma return, see that you remember our chat? It would certainly help win favor for an alliance."

"Of course, of course. We'll go through the process together if she wishes, and make a decision." Killian watched Isaac's smile falter marginally, confirming his suspicion.

"Very good then. See that you do." Isaac turned, leaving the library, as Killian furiously began to dig through what Haku had left. The results were frustratingly vague answers about ‘glory to the Kitsune’, who in theory would break through the initial ward, but the magic didn't relate to any sort Killian understood or any ruminations that he was aware of. If anything, it seemed that someone with enough energy could potentially pierce the island's barrier, but any type of assault would need to be targeted, not blanketed as the current ritualistic attempts suggested. The ritual itself was vague, barely described besides a few mentions of a story being written that seemed to usher the chosen into some sort of astral state.

There was nothing referencing any method in which a husk could be saved, Haku's notes in the margins seemingly indicating that he too had come to the same conclusion. A highlighted passage seemed to be confirmation of this, citing a tethered link being ripped away. Emma could not go through with whatever this was. The thought of her as a stumbling and soulless thing made him feel ill, the image in his mind of her eyes gone gray making him irrationally angry. The island's leaders had to know that this was wrong. A drawing Haku had made of a dome over what must be the island showed what looked like to be fractures, referencing another book on spellcraft, specifically breaking long lasting protection wards. There it showed a sketched illustration of an immortality enshrining spell being fractured while remaining unbroken, resulting in the shamaness inside not retaining her beauty as intended, aging as she should have whilst still remaining alive. Killian shuddered at the thought.

A dog eared page caught his attention. Haku was a methodical researcher, his notes precise as he followed this ritual to its origins. The marked page was out of place in that regard - a sleeping draughts of great potency, one similar to the sleeping death he himself had given the Queen of the United Realm's, Emma's mother, under the Goblin King’s command. She was famous for overcoming it during the war and her kiss with the man she would later choose to rule by her side had led to his capture. This was not quite that curse, which had taken a great deal of dark magic to create, and ingredients Killian did not want to deal in again if at all possible. It was lesser in its extremity, seemingly focused on lucid dreaming or actively blending the dreams of others with one's own. Did the ritual require some sort of unwaking sleep? That thought was chilling as well, dreams and the magic behind their power were widely known for their unpredictable nature, and Emma’s dreams were beyond powerful and erratic.

"It seems like you have had an easier day than me. Maybe I'll read, and you go play politics?"

Emma's voice startled him, and he turned as he stood, almost knocking her over. She looked different than he had last seen her, her eyes kohled and lips red. If the red dress he had seen her in earlier had not attempted to kill him with impropriety, the outfit she wore now had every chance.

The black dress was by all measure sinful in every facet of its design, and the exhale he gave was choked as she stepped in closer to place her hands on his arms. The pitch black velvet clung to every inch of her toned body, half corset tight but allowing the fullness of her curves, the neckline plunging, and the skirt slit on both sides. A red necklace hung heavy around her neck, the color a deep crimson that seemed to absorb the light. He’d been attracted to the princess before, she was beautiful as it were, but never had he wanted so much to act on it. Not only because of the dress, but because of the way her lips parted, the concerned way she looked at him through the dulled gray green of her eyes under the library lights, her red nails slightly digging into his sleeves -

As she steadied herself, Killian felt himself falling, unable to catch himself in the sudden vertigo.

"Emma," he breathed, and her eyes seemed to glint with mischief at how her name was practically wheezed out. He had to compose himself, had to get control -

Emma leaned in, rising on her toes.

"I've been waiting to get you alone all day," she whispered, smiling softly, as if she hadn't just made his brain explode. "About earlier -"

He cleared his dry throat, suddenly far too hot. "Yes, ah, about earlier; you shouldn't go through with anything they try to pressure you into -"

She laughed, looking at him with amusement. "Oh, no, I know that. What I meant is what I wanted to talk to you about earlier."

He blinked, and while one hand held her steady on his forearm, the fingers on her other hand played with the lacing of the collar of his shirt. Breathing seemed harder, requiring thought.

"It wasn't about your fears involving the rites here, and the alliance?" Killian asked, and she shook her head. Looking down for a moment, chewing her lip as she let go of him, Emma eyes flitted up at him through her lashes. Taking his hand and squeezing it lightly, she smiled warmly.

"So… Um. I was scared about talking to you, about finding the right things to say that would make sense. The thing is though… I'm not scared anymore. I feel like I know the answers to my fears just by being near you. You've been so different lately, and I feel like I know you so much better."

"I - I uh - Princess, what is it you're…?"

"You're blushing! Please I don't mean to - oh no -"

"I'm just not sure what you're trying to convey here, love," he managed to get out, her own face heating in time with his ears. The dress was again another hurdle to his calm, the black velvet slipped tight over the farthest curve of her breasts where it could sit at without being indecent. The color in her face was settling there too, and he dragged his eyes upwards with force.

Emma stepped forward, and he noticed that she had even streaked her hair jet black in a few places. His mouth went dry, and he licked his lips, trying to fight the wave of carnal thoughts that had suddenly bloomed in his mind. She was so lovely, would feel so right curling into him as he tasted her berry colored lips, finally chasing her properly. What was wrong with him? Where did these indecent thoughts come from - they had been contained when the Darkness had seemed to be held at bay, and yet here on the isle among the festival goers, it roared to life.

"Killian, you don't know? I've been thinking about what I want, what we mean to each other -" Killian snapped out of the fantasy with difficulty, as if it had tried to trap him or had used some sort of charm on him. Her words didn't seem real, and he rolled them over in his thoughts.

"What we mean to each other?" he asked. "Wait, Emma, are you suggesting that you - you feel - you want -"

"I'm not suggesting anything, Killian," she murmured, and he thanked the Gods for approximately six seconds, before her next words fried his brain. "I'm telling you that I think I want something more from you than friendship."

"I --- I -, er… I am -"

"Aye to you, too. Come find me later, and I'll tell you what I decided. I think you'll be very pleased." Emma twisted her red necklace in her fingers, looking up shyly at him through her lashes. "I know I am."

Another wave of want hit him, stronger than before, his mind going fuzzy at the edges. Emma was too close to him, and yet she stepped closer; he could smell the smokiness of her, the pine woods, soot, chilies, and rice wine. Vaguely he wondered why she didn't smell of her usual honey, vanilla, cinnamon, and rose, but the thought vanished when she pressed her lips to his cheek.

Quickly retreating as he cupped his cheek, she waved goodbye, leaving down the path from the library with confident steps.

Killian felt the small ember he carefully stoked inside the most protected regions of his being turn into a flame, hope surging as he tried to focus on anything but his confirmed feelings for the princess. For Emma. The books he tried to read could not hold his attention; nothing could draw him from his racing thoughts.

He found a note pinned on the outer side of the door as he was leaving, telling him to meet her on the high cliffs as soon as he could, which left him feeling elated, and he smiled at the thought of trying to figure things out with her. The Darkness had been under control, she was always nearby if it wasn't, and her magic was strong. She was smart, unfailing in her kindness, brave, and he had been denying his feelings for so long. Tonight he would deny her just for a few moments longer, all to court her properly.

There was a flower vendor for the festival he had seen earlier when walking with Mushu, her cart filled with crowns of marigold, chrysanthemums, eucalyptus and carnations. He had also seen a sweet vendor that had marzipan sculptures, noticing the swan immediately. He had planned to get it for her before they left, but tonight was much more perfect. Both in hand as fast as possible, he hoped Emma wouldn't mind his late arrival. If anything, she would be too delighted by the gifts, and Killian could finally, finally do what he realized he wanted for so long -

"Love, if you think helping the denizens of this isle is a worthy cause, who am I to ever argue with you?"

Killian froze, turning to the sound that sent chills down his spine. Someone was talking in his voice, a scarily good imitation of it as well.

"When have you been wrong, Swan? When have you not risen above your challenges?"

"You're right, Killian."

Emma's voice. His stomach dropped. Moving closer to the conversation tucked into a small aisle behind tents, he saw Emma in her red dress, and himself. Or, a poor facsimile of himself; there were a few streaks of white in his hair, and his nails seemed pointer even in the dim light. The doppelganger seemed to notice, carding a hand through, covering the white with his palm and burying them there. The other hand went snugly into his pocket.

"I know. I have no fear for you either, so take that as reassurance. After you succeed, it will be easy to take on the Darkness… and we could…" The fake slipped an arm around her waist, tipping her chin up and stroking her face. It was like a punch in the gut, the way she blushed and swooned so innocently, the reaction so sharply different than her earlier forwardness. Killian felt the growing suspicion that it wasn't Emma that had visited him but another, realizing with anger that his feelings had been twisted into vulnerability.

"We can talk about something more, what comes next. A future," his double whispered, laying his forehead against Emma’s.

"I'd like that," she replied as she smiled.

Killian began walking towards them, his rage boiling over at this deceit and jealousy that flamed into a blaze. The manipulation that was in play to create the idea she actually - that she could possibly feel something like that for him and that they could make something work; the idea was ridiculous when laid out. The princess being courted by the war criminal. Jealousy wasn't what he was feeling; he couldn't be jealous when she had been tricked, or when he had been weak. Emma didn't want anything from him, truly. He moved through the tents, following Emma to make sure that she put distance between herself and his fake, watching her through the gaps. In the cage he held tightly closed, the Darkness rattled. It took in a gasp of air, straining in its bonds.

No one could ever want you, stupid, weak, petulant man.

No one.

No one, and especially not her .

Someone so good, you would break her, you would never work.

Never .

Imagine what scars you would give her, imagine how easily she would see how pathetic you are…

He stumbled, felt the pressure of someone strong on his back as he struggled, albeit briefly. A cloth was pushed over his mouth and nose, a prick of some sort of dart hitting both sides of his neck one after the other. It took seconds for his eyes to go bleary, the world spinning as he fell.

Haku looked down at him, frowning.

"I'm sorry," Haku whispered. The words swam along with everything else in his vision, but Killian valiantly tried to crawl towards where Emma had been, following the sound of his voice, his voice used by another.

"Hurry now love. Don't leave Isaac waiting; they'll need you as soon as possible."

Emma's voice was bright as she called over her shoulder with a wave, unaware of Killian’s groan as he reached for her, unseen behind the many tents as Haku dragged him away.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Killian."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The amount of interference and pressure the combined Dragon royals and the Kitsune leaders held all day on Emma was absolutely unbearable. At the beginning of the morning, Lilly had dragged her to a bathhouse, the beauty and ornateness of the place overshadowed by the obnoxiously rude company. Emma was given a robe like wrap made of thick damask, golden fish swimming on the blue fabric. Lilly helped her put it on, ignoring Emma's objections at her intrusion while she was partially nude.

Chihiro wore a white gown, not making a sound even with bells tied in her long black hair. They glinted in the sunshine along with her braided ribbon as they all moved through the hallways, polished wood catching their many colored reflections. A paper screen door opened to reveal a large bath surrounded by rocks, a waterfall cascading into the steaming pool. One by one the women disrobed, dipping themselves, and Emma followed suit with a blush. The water felt heavenly, even if the conversation was not.

"So, the women as a congregation join the Maiden in her cleansing, where we all purify ourselves and commune with our ancestors," Lilly sighed, kicking her toes out of the water. From across the steam, Emma could see the great plumes of green smoke coming from where Cruella sat. When the steam parted, Cruella's eyes were focused solely on her, giving Emma chills even in the heat. "After this, we go get massages, then we get facials, then tea. Then we take a processional walk through the sand gardens, after which we do a lantern ceremony in the turtle pond. Lastly, we head to the cathedral for the final rites."

"I have plans to lunch with Killian -" Emma said cautiously, biting her lip.

"Because of course you do," Lilly said with an eye roll.

Emma smiled innocently. "Is there a way I can sneak away at some point?" She batted her eyes and Lilly snorted.

"Yes, of course there is," Lilly sighed, annoyed. "But getting a chance to while fielding my Mother and Cruella is going to be tricky for you. After this, that is. Enjoy the reprieve while you have it."

"Oh no, really?" Emma let herself whine. While unbecoming, it worked effectively well for Lilly, and was fair turnabout. "Lilly, will you buy me some time? You owe me for last night."

Lilly's eyes became more cool, and calculated. She looked at Emma conspiratorially, pointing up a finger before wagging it in her direction. "Alright. One condition though."

"Sure, I guess?" Emma said with a slight shrug. Realizing the current situation, she let herself float her toes up and down in the water in slow kicks, adding with a little edge of warning,

"Just don't be weird"

Lilly nodded, looking away. The Dragon collected herself, looking resolute as she began to speak in a slow and careful manner. "You've heard a lot about how much people want you to do this, but today you are going to hear some of the why. I want you to hear my reasons." Taking a deep breath, she continued while obviously trying to keep from speaking too fast. "I don't love Mushu. He's like a brother to me, a truly close friend, but I don't and have never loved him. I don't believe he feels anything for me either, but I don't care to know in fear of sympathy winning me over. We simply don't have any other options - the royal lineage either goes on, or dies with me. Unless we escape. Unless somewhere, pockets of dragons survived that did not follow the call of our elders - then I am like you, forced into a loveless marriage."

Emma had to bite off the urge she had to scoff.

"I mean, not quite, but sure I guess. What other reasons are there?"

"There's a lot, Emma. A whole lot. This barrier is killing us, and killing any chances of a future for the entire island." Lilly grimaced, closing her eyes. "I hate everything that the pressure from all sides under it has made us become; made me become. I hate what it's done to my family."

"I’m truly sorry, Lilly. I will try to consider this as I make my decision." Emma patted her hand, and Lilly smirked, pawing an eye.

"Yeah," Lilly bit out, the teasing quality in her voice softer. "As I pressure you. Fiore, there's no end in sight. Come, let us at least get this tension lifted from our shoulders."

She rose along with a few others, stepping into beautiful thick silk robe like dresses held by attendants. Emma followed, letting herself be ushered into a small room with a table in the center, a paneled paper divider opening revealing a room beyond that with the same layout as the first. With the divider pushed in to halve the start of the room, Emma was led to the further table while Lilly was disrobed. Emma's attendant followed by taking her own robe, laying Emma down so she could only see Lilly's head and shoulders her own attendant was pouring oil over her upper back. Emma felt the liquid slip over her own, flinching, before practiced fingers pressed long held tension away. She tried not to moan loudly, her body coiled tight since before she had fallen into this world.

Neither Lilly or the attendants were conversationalists, nor were there interruptions, leading Emma to daydream contently like she had done before falling through the portal into this world. After what felt like only a few minutes, Lilly's snoring joined the quiet sounds of hands working their bodies, and Emma let herself doze in and out, feeling safe for the first time in…

A part of Emma struggled to give the answer, torn. It should have been before Nil, and before her life was thrown off its natural course, but the truth that had popped immediately into her mind confused her. As did the fact her daydreaming kept leading her to strange places, and thoughts that were untoward, childish, and ridiculous. The last time she felt safe was much more recently, to only the last night Killian laid next to her. She'd woken from the same recurring nightmare, Nil advancing just a bit further each time, but Killian had been there immediately with his arms around her tightly.

He'd mumbled a mixture of soft, soothing things in a rough voice heavy with sleep, letting her face lay against his chest so she could hear his steady heartbeat, feel his breathing, bringing herself to calm as his nose buried in her hair. There was a sort of intense intimacy in that, and she had woken when he had begun to pull away gradually, slowly even. He began growing more fitful and Emma had struggled not to wonder if it was because he wasn't tired, but if instead… If whatever part of him that governed sleep, governed the way his innuendos had stopped, or governed the way he was when he was drunk enough to hold her close had wanted him to stay that way. Either way, she had felt cozy, and fiercely protected by him.

Her daydreaming was not protected from him though, and had been wandering to the feel of his hands on her thigh, the way she knew his lips were soft, the secret way his fingers trailing from her curls to trace patterns on her shoulder when he comforted her, and what it might be like to have the silly idea that he felt even the slightest attraction to her be not so silly. Graham had once brought her flowers, before her father's intervention, but Emma wondered if he would court her in the modern ways of the world outside the barrier, the ways of the strict rules her parents might expect, or even the traditions here that were bits of both with their own unique twists. Killian would be a gentleman no matter how long the path the courtship was, and for that reason she felt even more longing for him.

Maybe Lilly was right and they did both want each other? Emma drifted further into the pleasure of that idea, even as noise started in Lilly's room. The eventual heated tone and rising volume of an argument brought Emma back from her musings with quickness.

"She should meet her, Father Isaac says to have faith and I have. I've been faithful since both sets of our parents were taken, and I've been faithful waiting for Aurora. This is a chance for her. It's like she isn't even there anymore. I can't even remember the blue of her eyes, her eyes used to be blue, almost violet. Now they're that wretched, empty, gray - "

"Phillip, be calm and be silent, I'm working on it. I don't want to pressure her and all of you are making it very difficult," Lilly hissed lowly. "Trust me, I want this as much as you, but we can't just tell them that this is a potential outcome when they don't understand."

" I don't understand. I don't understand why it feels like Aurora isn't even in there anymore. I miss her so much; we were trying to start a family and then this happened. When she gets back, if she gets back, how much time will be left?" The man's voice was growing more plaintive, and Emma tried to control her breathing to maintain the illusion she was sleeping. Her attendant hesitantly moved away, and Emma risked a glance at Lilly's room.

The Dragon was in another of the heavy silken damask robe dresses speaking with an angry looking man, one who could only be Phillip. He was tall and broad, deep chestnut hair and a boyish face that was well tanned. Next to him stood a husk, its black cowl and mask still even as Phillip gesticulated.

Emma had felt the strangeness of the husks pull before, attributing it to the island's own unique feeling of arcane forces. Everything on the island pulled at her, as if the ground was trying to absorb the very elements it was created from, starved of its own power. The husks were like this, but with the force of a cyclone, a gaping maw of a vacuum that demanded to be filled. This husk was no different, the stillness of it betrayed by how it gave off a dark and desperate feeling of need.

"Please, you need to -"

"I don't need to do anything, especially when you aren't even included in the lottery!" the man yelled.

"Yes," Lilly drawled, sounding annoyed but dismissive. "Being on the door of extinction as a species is the epitome of an exit strategy. Bravo Phillip, you figured it out."

"Lilly, you know what I mean! I don't know how anyone else does it. She isn't Aurora anymore; she doesn't eat, doesn't sleep, doesn't talk or smile or sing - I miss her singing. I used to complain about her singing all the time and now, and now I -"

"We need to talk somewhere else; the princess is going to wake up and I'm going to have to -"

Emma's attendant closed the screen between their rooms, separating them once again, and leaving Emma alone as the voices carried out into the hall. The silence was not broken by any attendant, and Emma rose quietly to sit. A beautiful dress of her own sat out, in the same traditional style as Lilly's. It was a soft violet, patterned with swans, and cherry blossom blooms. Lilly had helped her tie the previous dress in the style they wore, a thick bow on the back accented with sparkling ropes that ended in beading or bells, but Emma found it was very difficult to do herself. With a few muttered curses, she managed to get it in some type of semblance just as she heard shuffling steps on the other side of the divider.

"Lilly is that you?" she called quietly. The answering noise of a soft keen came from the other room. Emma huffed out a breath as she tried to adjust the bow again. "Oh, good. Will you help me with this? I'm afraid I have it a bit askew."

The footsteps shuffled slowly to the sliding door, waiting there. Lilly let out a small moaning noise, and Emma rolled her eyes as she walked to the door herself, holding the dress in place the best she could with one hand. She attempted to push the sliding door, but it did not budge, Lilly's side holding fast.

"Lilly, is your side stuck?" Emma asked, surprised at how quiet Lilly was being. As she thought about it, she wondered if the argument between Phillip had gone so poorly as to mollify her friend into contrition, a feeling of intense anger and upset pouring from the other side of the door. Emma swallowed hard, ready to hold knowing about the fight tightly to her chest until it could be used to her advantage. If Lilly was involved in any sort of trickery, it might be easier to coax it out with this information. The thought made her sad, but it wasn't as if it was unlikely.

Lilly rasped something on the other side of the door, Emma's ears unable to make it out. Another soft moan followed, and a strange 'Ah' sound was heard as the divider door rattled. Emma pressed again, but the divider screen stuck firmly on its track, not sliding to open at all. Lilly was holding it shut.

"Lilly, this isn't funny. What are you playing at?" Emma grunted, pushing harder, but the door did not give despite her best efforts. Lilly held fast on her side, her breathing heavy. Emma felt uneasy, letting go of the screen as a chorus of whispers and strange moans broke out in many voices behind the door where Lilly stood.

The lights in Emma's room, a few simple paper lamps, went out suddenly all at once as the divider door began to rattle. From the brightness of the other room, shadows showed against the paper, people filling the space as they pressed against the divider wall, hands silently beating and clawing. Emma's hands covered her mouth as she backed up further, until she ran into the table she had been sitting on, the rattling of the door becoming louder. The voices converged, no longer whispering but now many chanting the same words against the paper.

"Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungryyyy…!"

The rattling stopped, the lamps in the other room going out. The divider stood dark in the pitch of the room, everything silent but Emma's thundering heart. As her eyes adjusted, she heard the door slowly slide open, her panic at what lie behind too much, too much, something was in that shadow waiting -

The door slid open fully, revealing nothing on the other side. Emma let out a nervous laugh, her hands shaking as she lowered them. Taking deep breaths, she steadied herself, and began to put things together.

This was obviously a Kitsune trick, Lilly most likely involved as well. It wasn't as if she shouldn't have expected it; Lilly had warned her enough times about their prankster ways and Emma's own distinct lack of popularity.

Walking toward the door to leave, she was surprised to meet a solid black wall as she bounced back from it. The divider was blocked by a black surface, that when pressed was slightly opaque as it let her hand sink slightly. It reminded her of the Selkies flesh when they wore their pelts, the blubbery skin letting her hand sink a bit as she petted. This was not soft or furry like that however, but like that of a great mottled toad. Emma pulled her hand away and it came back wet, a black viscous slime sticking to her palm. She flicked it away, taking a step back and letting her other hand card over her face and into the crown of her hair.

Wet and warm gunk fell on her hand and into her hair, her fingers pulling away in shock as she examined the sticky, clear, bubbled slime. It looked like some sort of saliva, strangely enough - Another glob hit her head, and she looked up.

The husk mask was in the middle of the ceiling on a great thing , its mass huge and stretched. Black spider like arms pressed to the corners to hold its own bloated weight, its torso was stretched up through the divider, like some sort of slug. Under the mask, a dark mouth opened displaying broad, flat, teeth the size of dinner plates. A tongue lolled out slowly, dripping more thick dollops of drool.

A single small 'Ah' came from its throat, causing Emma's eyes to go wide with terror. She felt rooted on the spot, unable to move; a glance down quickly confirming another set of arms had wrapped around her, a hand with two long fingers encircling her body. The thing smiled at her with its uneven teeth, lifting her as she tried to remember how to scream.

"Hungry!" it roared, Emma finally shrieking in its grasp as its long tongue wrapped around her and she was plunged into its mouth.

Images assaulted her, the smell of the creature acrid, musky, and cloying.

An older woman sipping tea with deep wrinkles around her brown eyes. A dark haired man making smoke rings, his young son clapping at the shapes. A woman with a patient smile and raven curls tucking in the beds of children she has taken in to mother, afraid of nothing more than orphaning them again. A man with a beard and mustache the color of wetted stone, his eyes tired but posture proud. A beautiful maiden singing while gathering blueberries, her golden blonde hair catching on the sunlight as birds sung along. An older boy playing ball on the shore, shaggy hair in his eyes as he ran, his grin huge. A plump woman with reddish curls and a saucy smile, throwing tiles in some sort of game. A sullen young man with a shock of red hair, his tall height able to reach books in the library he needed.

The voices grew louder still, her head pounding and ears ringing.

"HUNGRY. HUNGRY!"

A soft, melodious woman's voice sung through the noise, overcoming it. Emma recognized it as the tune she had heard in the strange vision of the woman picking blueberries. Her pretty words were hurried as if she was out of breath.

"Help us. Please, help us."

The woman was swallowed by the noise again, the thing bellowing out its hunger as Emma felt its rage at being so hollow, desperate for anything to make it whole. It tore at itself as it screamed in fury, Emma's own screams lost under its cries. Hands clawed at her, shaking her as she struggled in the increasing pressure of the blackness; it would crush her surely, and soon she would be without air.

A hard pinch on her side made her yelp, the noise fading as she opened her eyes to meet Lilly's look of annoyance.

"What are you doing? Why are you down there freaking out like that?" she asked, pulling Emma up by her elbow. Shaking, Emma looked around the room, the husk standing in the corner with its face to the wall. Its mask lay on the floor between them, and Emma backed away as she pointed at it, unable to form words.

Lilly looked at the husk and shook her head. "Yeah, they do that sometimes. They like to be behind things, as if they find comfort in not seeing or not being seen. The masks help with that."

"No, no, that thing - it attacked me!" Emma blurted, and Lilly raised an eyebrow before laughing raucously. "Lilly, it tried to eat me or did, it was -"

"Husks don't do anything unless you patiently, and I mean patiently, teach them. Even then, it can't be a complicated task or they'll wander off in search of some wall or cubby hole to stick their head in." Lilly shook her head as she giggled. "They don't eat or sleep, don't talk at all, so if you saw something it was most likely not her."

"But she - it did! It was a monster Lilly; it spoke to me and told me it was hungry. I don't know how I -"

"If Aurora could speak, she would not have wasted her voice on you," a male voice said coldly. Phillip brushed past Lilly and into the room, sighing with frustration as he picked up the discarded mask. "If Aurora could speak, she'd talk to her husband who has been waiting for her to come back since she laid down in that cathedral and this took her place. She would answer when I ask her questions, where she went, if she's safe, and if she's coming back like she promised… she promised me… " His voice broke, and Emma looked down at her bare feet with shame.

"Phillip, it was probably a Kit trick on her; she doesn't know about how difficult it is -" Lilly soothed, moving closer to Phillip. He instead turned, pulling the husk from the corner and facing it towards Emma.

"Does this look like a monster to you?" he asked, his voice and body tense.

The husk's face was visible in its habit, everything else swathed in black. She was pretty, her features familiar to Emma although it was difficult to place them or why the woman made her neck hair rise in nervousness.

Emma shook her head indicating no, averting her eyes to once again look at her feet.

"Kitsune wouldn't cross the line with this sort of prank. It could have gotten Aurora hurt, and she wouldn't be able to come back. No Kit would dare." He prodded a finger at Lilly, and she shifted uncomfortably.

"If you're implying it was one of us -" Lilly began, her voice going steely. Phillip interrupted without pause.

"I'm implying that I want no part in games, or politics any longer. This was a mistake." He held the husk a bit tighter, running a hand over the black fabric that covered her head. His voice softened. "I only want Aurora back."

"I hope she comes back to you soon," Emma said lightly. "And I am sorry. I know what I saw, but never meant to -"

"Keep the rest of your apology, princess. The beginning was enough," Phillip said coldly. He ushered the husk to the far door, its habit now askew revealing long golden blonde hair. Once placed back over her head, he placed the mask over where only her face was visible. Emma watched them go, now convinced that the woman with the blueberries who had sung and begged for help was none other than Aurora.

Lilly interrupted her thinking. "So did you drink some special tea, or something? Or did you see smoke?"

"Forget about it, Lilly," Emma whispered. "I… I think I'm ready to go have lunch with Killian. Can you help me steal away with a picnic basket?"

"I can, but not for long. We slept through some of the minor traditions, so the next are really important. We have the communion with the spirits and the sacred tea ceremony before Chihiro drinks her own to traverse the veil." Lilly leaned against the table Emma had been massaged on, thinking hard. "My mother and Cruella surely have plans to grill you before that. You'll have to be quick, and leave as soon as we finish the bell ceremony in the cathedral."

"I can be. Also, not to be terribly rude, but…" Emma bit her lip and displayed her very askew and barely secured dress for Lilly's appraisal. "I would very much like to wear something that does not require so much tying and folding, please."

Lilly rolled her eyes, pursing her lips. Dragging Emma to a closet near the entrance of the bath house, she pulled out a few dresses before pushing them back in the overfilled space. Finally she found one that suited her discernment, giving it to Emma.

"This will work. Red protects from bad spirits, and collects energy. It gives power. It suits you." Lilly helped Emma out of her dress (what Lilly called a Yukata, and Emma sighed in defeat at Lilly's, pristine and tied tight) and into the red dress. It was barely corseted, which seemed to be in favor here on the island, with a square neckline and a flare at the hips that led to a full skirt. The red was a deeply pigmented crimson, the sleeves and way the dress fit on her body as if it was made for her.

Lilly walked with her to the cathedral, a picnic basket hidden between their skirts that they had pilfered from the kitchens in the bathhouse.

"So we drink this tea, to commune with spirits, and Chihiro drinks a special blend of it?" Emma whispered as they walked along the path to another ornate building. Lilly nodded. "Why?"

"The tea allows her to traverse the veil, gaining power and trust from the other spirits. She will undergo trials that allow her to command a targeted attack of the barrier, which can only be achieved by strengthening herself," Lilly intoned.

Entering the cathedral was like being thrown into ice water. The power that lurked there and the energy made her feel queasy, the ever present feeling of wrongness heightened and magnified under the splendor of its roof. She ran to see Killian, but was cornered before she could explain anything, led back by Lilly and her mother.

It was enough to send Emma into an uneasy conflict with herself and the power of her magic. The scope of how broken the barrier spell seemed to be, the chaotic anger of the spirits chipping away at it, how magic itself was decaying in swaths underneath it along with the population - the mounting pressure was enormous without the heavy handed encouragement of the involved parties. Later, she stumbled out of the cathedral without grace into the fresh air, her mind full of questions. A fair of sorts was being set up while the Maiden began her sleep, and Emma walked among the tents idly looking at the sugar sculptures, glass beads, dream catchers, and charms while trying to seek out Killian, finding him nowhere.

She saw him turn the corner out of the corner her eye, spinning to look to where he had gone, but he seemed to round the opposite corner in the reflection cast by a gilded hand mirror in a booth. Emma felt herself getting lost even among the small amount of vendors, following phantoms that turned out to be mist with frustration. A hand caught her shoulder, and with relief she turned to find Killian smirking at her.

"Looking for someone, pet?" he teased, and she sighed through a huff at his humor at her expense. In the light, his hair seemed to gleam silver, almost white, but she shook off the strange ideas that seemed to be whispered in the air surrounding them, surprised by the boldness of her imagination. It was not the time to think about how silky his uncut fringe would be between her fingers, or how soft he'd kiss below her neck if she was someone he wanted.

"Princess?" Killian whispered salaciously, as if reading her thoughts. Emma's knees seemed to grow suddenly weaker, to her great concern, but that only made her resolve grow stronger.

Straightening her shoulders, she spoke firmly as not to be tongue tied. "I felt unsettled, and I came to you. I have to ask of you to help me make a decision. Do you think I should take Chihiro's place and undergo this rite myself? Do you believe that it will help both sides?"

"It's the best thing we've got to get them allied to our cause. Give them everything you have. You have a reputation for being the Savior to live up to, after all." He was acting strangely, his usual nervous ear scratch replaced by scratching at his neck. His nails seemed sharper, but the light was poor as the sun fell. Emma laid a hand on his and he flinched away, bowing his head slightly. He buried a hand in his hair, looking bashful, before taking a deep breath to look at her with a sort of pride.

"Love, if you think helping the denizens of this isle is a worthy endeavor, who am I to ever argue with you? When have you been wrong, Swan? When have you not risen above your challenges?" He searched her face, and for a moment she thought Lilly might be right about him feeling something. The idea made her stomach flutter with hope.

Emma sighed. "You're right, Killian."

He stepped closer, and her heart felt as if it might pound out of her chest. He'd been so forward here, but she never thought or would have even guessed that he had any interest in her, or intentions. Emma let him fill her space, the idea of him wanting to court her, or the thought of the thousands of ridiculous romances she was able to have Ruby sneak her into the castle and the scenarios therein, made her think longingly of what she possibly wanted. That is, possibly wanted with him .

"I know. I have no fear for you either, so take that as reassurance. After you succeed, it will be easy to take on the Darkness… and we could…" Her heart skipped a beat, Killian slipping an arm around her waist, tipping her chin up and stroking her cheek. It was as if there wasn't enough air in her lungs. Blushing, she fell forward into him slightly because of dizziness. It was so warm, the night air not cooling her skin any longer, and indecent thoughts of everything he could do to her were like a spring garden's flowers, ready to be picked.

Emma tried to speak, but couldn't find the words to do so. She settled for breathing his name out on a whisper, watching him smirk. As the wind blew gently, his eyes softened.

"We can talk about something more, what comes next. A future." His whisper while laying his forehead against her own was so tender.

"I'd like that." She smiled.

"Hurry now love. Don't leave Isaac waiting, they'll need you as soon as possible."

"I'll be seeing you soon, Killian."

He gave her a wave, and she did not hear him whisper under his breath, his voice becoming a feminine purr.

"Sweet dreams, princess."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma was found wandering the beach in a silken gown, with no memories of how she had gotten there. The village on the island was abuzz with it; nothing like the strangeness that her arrival heralded happened in the Blackwater, excitement in short supply. Not only was she a wisp of a thing, but she could not be a day older than seven or eight to his eleven or Liam and Elsa's fourteen. Liam had taken him to the shore to watch alongside the others as Isaac held her hand, helping her off the small beach and up the cliff side. There, hidden in the trees where no one could see, Emma Swan looked at him for the first time, her green eyes like another forest he could lose himself in. His father and mother had chastised him over dinner - worrying about some peasant girl was not fitting for his social stance as a Blackwater lordling.

The next time he saw her, she was dancing at a harvest ball, her hair braided with autumn leaves and ribbon. It had been several years, his interest in girls going slightly beyond love notes and hand holding if that. She still drew his eyes, spinning lazily in her embroidered gown, looking like a falling blossom. Even Liam had been caught by her spell, and Killian had secretly hated him for his boldness and smooth confidence as he walked toward her.

She froze when Liam asked her for a dance, looking at him with such confusion, as if he was a ghost. Sir Isaac ushered her away, and Killian shrugged. Liam told him later that the petrified girl had told him that he wasn't real, and had asked for Killian by name. She hadn't used proper titleage or etiquette, just his name again and again more shrill in each utterance, until Isaac took her to rest at his home.

No one could say what happened, other than she was ill. Some said that she mumbled madly about both the future and the past, events that would come to pass or secrets that she should not know. Tongues wagged in the Blackwater; finding the truth therein was like finding a needle in a haystack.

The seasons changed, no questions answered, and Emma was rarely around to create enough intrigue for questioning. The questions stopped eventually as she became the village herbalist, sending her wares down the mountain from her cliffside cabin with her friend Lilly. His good friend and the Lady of the Baelfire side of the Isle, Milah, confessed she had never bought Emma's strange remedies - but she credited that to her renouncing witchcraft in all forms, her name safe from spells and mind safe from the sale of esoterics.

Magic ran rampant through the Blackwater, as they were all Fae, but it was taboo to do more than simple charms or common place spellwork. Potions, incantations, divining the future, enchanting, and the many manners of magic Emma did easily made her an outcast - and Milah agreed with the townsfolk that Emma was in league with a Demon, making her a witch. Rumors swirled that the Demon had stolen her sanity as payment for her skills. On some nights if you looked to the cliffs, a strange glow in many different colors radiated from Emma's small cabin. That did little to quell rumors.

Life in the village went on. Killian and Milah grew closer, and they fell in love in a whirlwind romance that seemed to take the entire Blackwater with it. Their marriage was expected, and easily approved. As soon as their small home was up near the library Killian dutifully cared for, his brother followed suit. Liam and Elsa married, much to his father’s, Ingrid's, and Nemo's delight. His mother was gone for several years now, but he thought she would be proud of her children.

Unlike the intimate affair Killian had held, the entire village was present for Liam’s marital feast.

Including Emma.

Her hair was in a wild braid, her dress without corseture or boning, flowing in swaths of mossy green cotton. Her fingers were stained in different colors, ranging from ochre to blackberry, crimson to indigo.

And her eyes. They were suddenly the brightest green Killian had ever seen.

Milah begged him not to say hello to Emma, making a symbol with her thumb, index and smallest finger that likened the woman with having horns. Like the rest of the villagers, her belief that Emma was a Demon-led witch held strong, even as they bought her herbal remedies from Lilly. Killian obliged, as not to upset his wife. In the end it was wise. As his brother stood to give a toast with Elsa looking on in adoration, there was a struggle in the back of the room. Emma was wild eyed, pointing at Liam and Elsa.

"This is - it's impossible, this doesn't - please I don't understand, this isn't real! Someone help, why is this being shown to me? I need to get out of here, these are ghosts, memories - They aren't real! You are dead! Dead!"

Emma's cries brought gasps from the crowd, with Nemo, Lilly, and Isaac pulling her from the room. Milah shook her head and muttered a prayer; the herbalist herself confirming the rumors that she had bouts of madness. Sir Isaac and Lilly desperately tried to keep her as rooted in reality as possible, but it was clear that she could not handle this event for whatever reason. She was calmed with a jacket and gag Isaac had made, sitting in the back where the sight would not disturb anyone. Although Killian thought it was barbaric to tie someone into sitting quietly (even in a wheeled chair), he thought that Emma was lucky enough to find an adoptive family like Sir Isaac and Lady Cruella.

A strange feeling of wrongness fell on him, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. They were Fae, they should be able to heal her, heal each other, even in matters of madness. The thought had barely crossed his mind when Milah pulled him into a dance. As they spun with the other guests, Emma's eyes met his, Milah and him both laughing at Ingrid's clumsy footwork as she danced nearby. To his surprise, Emma smiled at them with the saddest look he had ever seen before she was wheeled away, disappearing into the crowd.

That night he dreamed of Emma, even as Milah slept next to him in their marital bed.

"You have to. You have to, before she's gone."

Killian felt his mouth go dry, looking down at Emma's sleeping form. "This was a bad deal Lilly. You were supposed to be her friend, why did you let her do this?"

"I fucked up. Please. You have to save her before she turns her into a shell of what she was or worse; you have to get her out of there. There's a potion, a sleeping draught or something - I don't know. I tried it and was able to get to her; but it's dangerous. She can -"

"I don't care. We can't stand around here while she… While she… I can't believe you did this, and that she agreed. Of all the stupid ideas to follow through on -"

"Killian, it's not like I had a choice!" Lilly snapped. Killian glared, his anger threatening to boil over.

"Bullshit, Lilly. Whatever you have to tell yourself, right?"

"Just listen. I was going to get her out, but you don't understand. My mother, Cruella, Isaac - none of them have seen anything like this. You can lose yourself in there; it takes over everything, rewriting your entire existence."

"Then I'll lose myself happily. She'd already be doing that for me if it were me."

"And for me. I hope Emma never forgives me," Lilly sniffed.

Killian felt his jaw clench, something in his head clawing at his thoughts as he pushed it away. "That would make two of us, but she will. Emma is too good for the likes of us."

He woke with a start, Milah slightly stirring as he tried to remember the fragmented bits of the dream that lingered.

Years passed, and Emma interacted with the village in small, rare, interactions. She bought food sparingly, but more often than not, Lilly bought it for her. The village was quiet, and Emma was too unpredictable, too loud. Killian professed sympathy for her, and Milah agreed that the herbalist truly had a terrible fate.

Then Milah fell ill.

It was nothing like he'd ever seen, as if she was being erased, her body falling apart quickly and her vibrancy muted. She became a shell, her fatigue and pain without relief until Milah let him try Emma's wares. A salve gave Milah almost instant comfort, and Killian bought as much as he could. As Milah deteriorated, they required more and more until they were out both at home and at the small stall where Lilly peddled her wares. When he asked for more, Lilly raised an eyebrow.

"You could ask Emma. She does make the rare house call for extreme cases," Lilly whispered behind a cupped hand.

So, Killian climbed the mountainside, up to the cliff Emma's cabin stood on. He peered in, noting how sparsely furnished the space was. There was no one inside, so he made his way to the back, following soft singing. Wearing a paint splattered cotton gown that did nothing to hide her body's shape, Emma stood with a brush grasped lightly in her fingers. Her hair was long and thrown back into an unkempt tumble of curls with no bonnet in sight, no corseture around her waist, and her feet were bare in the warm evening as she sang.

Killian watched her paint in small strokes, tongue poking out as she finished and wiped her palms together with a clap. Her song abruptly ended and she turned to face him.

"You're here," she said quietly.

Her eyes were still so very green.

"I… Beg pardon?" Killian shook his head, confused by why she seemed to stun him. For the first time things felt real, the moss and rocky soil on his feet even more so. "I'm here for -"

"For Milah's medicine, yes. It's on the table there." She nodded her head to a small clay jar. He opened it, looking at the strange paste inside. Who had told her he was in need of it?

"How did you -"

"Not important. What is important, Killian, is that this will only help her for a day or two." Killian looked at the jar in his hand, terrified. Yes, Milah was getting worse, but days left? There was no way. Emma looked unflappable, her face empathetic.

"What's wrong with Milah?"

"It's complicated. She's wasting away, and I can't, she's - all I can do is slow it down. I'm so sorry, I know you both are so happy, and if I could do more I would. I can see how much you dream of a long life with her, and how scared you are of losing her." Emma seemed upset by his inquiry, and began to fidget. "I could possibly extend things longer if I was there, but… This will make things more comfortable. Less nightmarish."

"I'll ask Isaac, I'll beg -"

"Lilly is a better bet. She sneaks me out to the beach, or makes distractions, and covers for me. She could… cover for me to help you."

"I'll ask her to, and to watch out for Isaac for us, but you'll come, right? Please say -" Killian began. Emma hushed him quietly.

"Of course. I can't imagine how much of a torture this is, and I'm sorry. I'm trying to make it better, I don't want this fear to hurt you. I just - I don't know how any of this is happening, but while it is, I don't want you to -" Emma stopped and closed her eyes, lip caught in her teeth, as if collecting her thoughts. "I don't want either of you to hurt. I never want you to hurt, and I try to stop it when I can, when I see them try to punish me or you. You're real aren't you? If I can keep you happy, it will be alright, and you'll be alright."

"I don't - uh. I don't know what that means, Swan," he admitted, scratching behind his ear. Blinking out of her outburst, Emma sighed, kicking dirt with her bare toes. She nodded, looking downcast.

"Have Lilly send for me as soon as she can."

The look of tired misery in eyes that matched the moss haunted him the entire way home, sitting on his shoulder and whispering strange thoughts into his brain.

One whisper stood out from the others, and he wasn’t sure if it was true or imagined, though he’d swear it was truth : Emma’s canvas had been filled with one of his own, very blue, eyes.

#Courtorderedcake #12th #January #2020 #January 12th 2020 #Hallow #Hallow Chapter XI #Captain Swan #Captain Swan Fic

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dimples-of-discontent · 7 years ago

Text

Reporting in from Paleyfest

I have returned from Paleyfest (and some drinks with friends afterwards so sorry for the delay)! It was a great experience - the crowd was psyched and it was all super fun. I’m glad you all got the livestream so you can enjoy the whole panel too. I’m actually pretty surprised that there wasn’t some kind of announcement made, either about possible Season 14 (although Singer alluded to it with “maybe we’ll go there next season” it’s not a confirmation and he could just be assuming) or about Wayward. It seemed like with this much PR going on there would be something substantial to promote BUT the crossover ep itself is a big deal and a long time in the making so I guess it was the occasion.

Speaking of the crossover episode, I’m going to break the rules (or the very polite request that they gave us) to not spoil it for anyone else. @tinkdw asked me to and I’m guessing there are other people out there who’d like to know some the details in advance. (I’m also not a member of the press or anything or else I’d have more qualms about making public stuff they asked to keep on the DL since it would be job-related.)

SO - I am putting my thoughts on the episode below a cut. If you read on, know that I will spoil the whole plot and also give you my initial analysis of it from the perspective I usually have (Destiel-positive, endgame-positive). And if you’d rather not spoil, just scroll on.

@elizabethrobertajones @naruhearts @sactownbrowns3 @amwritingmeta @postmodernmulticoloredcloak @mittensmorgul @amyoatmeal and any other meta writers (who I forgot b/c it’s 4:30am to my body clock) I’m alerting you to the existence of this post in case you want the episode details ahead of time BUT in your position I probably wouldn’t so don’t feel in any way bad if you don’t want to read now. (I’ll reblog once it airs.)

***SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT LIKE WOAH***

I loved this episode!! It was a ton of fun. It was slapstick and silly but did some heavy lifting too. Honestly, it worked the way a lot of our favorite crack episodes did and alluded to at least one of them explicitly (”Changing Channels,” obvs, and I think there may have been more subtle references to others).

I’m too tired to do a full meta analysis but here’s a kind of bullet recap, first of the most plot-based elements:

The plot turns on the fact that the Scooby Doo world, suddenly, ends up functioning like the world Sam and Dean inhabit. The boys enter the cartoon assuming all usual cartoon rules would apply (and Dean’s ready to have a rollicking good time with them) only to discover that the first murder in the haunted house is real. Ghosts are real. Death is real. Sam wants to tell the Scooby gang about it from the get-go but Dean wants to protect them and preserve their innocence.

It’s already obviously about childhood, and losing it, but Dean makes it explicit by talking about how much he loved Scooby Doo because no matter where their dad had dragged them it would always be on. They were his friends and constant companions. He is really being thrown into the best part of his childhood....and you can see why it would be the best because it’s probably his fantasy and deepest wish that the ghosts, demons, etc. of the world he inhabits would turn out just to be bad guys in masks, death wouldn’t be real, etc. It’s Dean safe place in childhood because it takes his actual life (ghost hunting) and makes it safe and even fun. Dean wants to keep his safe place safe and is shocked and horrified when the rules of his universe invade.

It’s Sam who wants to tell them the truth about monsters from the word “go” even before it’s been revealed that death can come to Scooby Doo. (Dean laments, heartbreakingly, that it doesn’t matter if he dies...what’s important is that they make sure Scooby doesn’t die because clearly he’s such an innocent creature.) Sam, who did not have his childhood cut as abruptly short as Dean and who did not have to seek solace in a cartoon world because Dean helped him make a safe space in the real world, doesn’t see the point of lying about ghosts being real. Dean, who worked to keep Sam safe from this knowledge for YEARS of his own stunted childhood by acting as a parent, does want to keep the gang in the dark because he wants them to retain their innocence. It’s a huge lampshade to the different experiences Sam and Dean had as children and as sons.

They do eventually have to tell the Scooby gang and, wonderfully, it induces an existential crisis in them. Watching Daphne question the existence of God based on what she has inferred about the afterlife is amazing. It is not what I expected. Dean brings them back from the brink by reminding them of all the good work they had done before.

I’m going to tell the ending now and then double back to some other observations: the phantom they are chasing is the ghost of a small boy who is being manipulated, through a cursed object (a pocket knife given to him by his beloved father before he died), by an unscrupulous man (the real estate agent who we met in the beginning) who unleashes the boy’s anger on whoever he chooses for his own purpose...to scare people off of property he wants to buy. This way, the villain of a typical Scooby episode actually becomes the villain of this SPN episode...the evil real estate developer.

Before heading back to their world, where they burn the pocket knife and free the ghost, Dean convinces Sam and Cas to lie to the Scooby gang and tell them that they were right initially--ghosts aren’t real. He goes so far as to stage the unmasking of the cartoon villain (the one from the original Scooby episode) and helps them to explanations involving wires, cornstarch blood, etc. Sam is grumpy about it but does it anyway. It’s crucial to Dean that they leave the Scooby gang as they found them and not saddle them with the world the Winchesters live in.

Let me just reiterate...the ghost that has been terrorizing them is frightened little boy. Who kept a pocket knife (much like the one we see being used to carve the Winchester’s initials into the Impala) as a token of his dead father. His father is symbolized and memorialized by a weapon. The weapon is the object the little boy is tied to and that another man--a bad man--can use to manipulate him into hurting others because “I just get so angry sometimes.” To be free, the knife (weapon, father’s legacy) has to be burned. There are closeups on a very sad Dean while this happens (some sad Sam and Cas too).

It is blindingly obvious that the little boy, who is wreaking havoc on the cartoon safe space of his childhood, represents Dean. To stop the destruction Dean has to let something go (he starts the episode referencing Elsa and EXPLICITLY SAYING THIS LINE I CAN’T EVEN). Something that is keeping him angry. Something that is tied to his father. Something that can be used to manipulate him, employed as a weapon to hurt other innocent people (Mark of Cain/Demon Dean plot lines). Dean is full of anger and of self-loathing and it’s coming from the same source. That source is toxic masculinity. Let it go, Dean. Let it go.

Is it also tied to issues of sexuality? I think so. I’ll reflect a little bit below, but I wanted to do the whole plot-based analysis first.

And now the less plot-based stuff:

Ok, so can the ghost represent repressed sexuality/a different form of masculinity? SO MUCH YES. Point one: Cas is the only one who stops to take a look at the ghost and is thisclose to seeing through it’s big ol’scary disguise and finding a vulnerable child. He stops and squints at it, Cas-style, and says “I’ve never seen a ghost wear such a ridiculous costume. Unless...” and then he reaches out to it, starting to push aside the veil only to be pulled away. Now if that isn’t metaphorically precisely what Cas did, and does, for Dean and his performing facade I will buy a hat so that I can eat it.

Point two, there is a scene where the ghost is chasing everyone through a series of doors on either side of a hallway (you know the scene...they run across the hallway, doors open and shut on either side, feet flying everywhere). They successfully shut the ghost in a closet with iron chains, though it’s close to breaking out. Daphne presses her body up against the door to hold it. Dean checks her out very obviously in a way that is both superfluous to and inconsistent with the plot. This means that the silhouette of a conventionally sexy woman is QUITE LITERALLY holding the closet door closed on the ghost. Metaphorically, it shows how Dean is able to use his attraction to conventionally sexy women to hold back what’s haunting him...attraction to men, ideas about a certain type of masculinity. Does it work? BIG FAT NO. The ghost breaks out anyway. (<Puts on professor cap> Have you guys read “The Beast in the Closet”? It’s by Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick and is about "intense male homosocial desire as at once the most compulsory and the most prohibited of social bonds.” It’s about Henry James’s work but I think you would all dig it. <Takes off professor cap.>)

I wanted to start with that because I can tell that people are going to be very upset about Dean’s excessive flirtation with/pursuit of Daphne. And, yeah, I almost injured my eyes by rolling them so hard at some of the things he says. BUT THAT’S THE POINT. What he’s saying is a child’s idea of how a grown man would act with a woman he likes. And it bears a great deal of similarity to how Dean does act sometimes. We call it performing!Dean and wonder to what extent Dean is conscious of his performing. Given this episode I’d say..maybe .not that conscious? I feel like the overstated heterosexual dudebroness was done specifically to give us an over-exaggerated literal cartoon version of heterosexual Dean to compare to regular Dean so that anyone who doesn’t know Dean performs in his own life will have a lens through which to see it.

Also, Daphne is his childhood crush. OF COURSE he’s going to act like a moron around her. If I encountered [insert childhood TV crush here...for me it was Kevin from “The Wonder Years” for whatever reason] I’d act dumb as fuck! But you have to remember that she represents innocence for him...it’s established that all the Scoobies do (heh - puns!). Even if he’s kissing her hand or putting an arm around her or whatever there is no danger there, just like there’s no danger in the ghosts. Sexuality to Dean isn’t scary in Scooby Doo because it’s simple: it’s just a girl he likes. Except, just like how the ghosts are also dangerous, the love plot isn’t going to be that simple or that straightforward (heh - straight). You see where I’m going. Dean would rather be in a universe ghosts weren’t real because it’s safer and easier and kind of a fantasy land but they ARE real and he will have to deal with them; Dean would also rather be in a world where he was a suave, irresistible ladies’ man because it’s safer and easier and a kind of fantasy....but he’s not. Jensen even said so in his interview. Granted, Jensen’s comment may have just meant that Dean’s not suave like he thinks. But the actual episode draws a parallel that’s pretty damn clear.

Another reason to not worry: Daphne is zero interest in Dean at all. She has negative interest in Dean. Her lack of interest in Dean has created a void that is sucking all the air out of the room. She may not even know that Dean is hitting on her. She is so focused on Fred that no one else exists for her as a romantic interest. They are so obviously a pair, even though they are never shown to be together as a couple explicitly. <Stares directly into the camera like I’m on The Office.> Can Dean not see that? Is he blind? Well, he does see it, but he thinks Daphne is “settling” for Fred who represents a kind of masculinity that makes him uncomfortable (more in a sec). In point of fact, no one is romantically interested in Dean in this episode...unlike Sam who gets a lot of appreciation (and an eventual kiss) from Velma.

As for Fred, Dean begins by really hating him (so much that Sam remarks on it) and when pressed about why he attributes it to Fred’s self-confidence despite things like his “stupid ascot.” Dean comes to like and admire Fred and, ultimately, have the confidence to wear an ascot himself BECAUSE HE LIKES IT. It didn’t make Fred less of a man. It doesn’t make Dean less of a man to wear it with his plaid shirt. Fred helps Dean along the way to some self-acceptance. It’s nice. Fred is there to serve as a contrast to Dean’s overblown notions of what is “masculine” and offer another form of masculinity that is, manifestly, still appealing to the ladies.

Now, remember the Scooby Doo universe doesn’t have sex in it. It’s a cartoon. And they bend those rules only the tiniest bit here. All of Dean’s advances and even his jokes are PG. That innocence on the part of the Scoobies is played for laughs, Daphne remarking that Dean is silly for not knowing that “boys and girls don’t sleep in the same room” for example, but it’s also integral to the plot. (There are some other jokes too and, for a glorious second, I thought that they were legitimately going to reveal that Daphne and Velma were a thing but sadly not.) No one would want to ruin the Scooby universe by telling them about sex...not even Dean. Again, it contains a child’s conception of relationships.

I’m imagining some people will also be upset about how the episode treats Cas. I was especially stung that, right at the outset, Dean says flat-out that “Cas is basically a talking dog.” I made a noise of indignation that made people look at me. BUT let’s also remember how much Dean loves that talking dog. He’d die for him. He wants to protect him at any cost. He doesn’t want to spoil his innocence. So, yeah, that’s not a nice thing to say but it’s also not the whole story. Cas is grouped with Scooby and Shaggy the whole time and he bonds with them, SMILING (ALERT ALERT CARTOON CASTIEL KNOWS HOW TO SMILE) AND LAUGHING when he has to leave. He thanks them for showing him the importance of humor even in dangerous times. I think it’s a good lesson for Cas and his real affection for them reminds me of what a soft character he is inside, wanting to get a cat or save monkeys or keep bees. That’s been missing from Cas lately (even though I do LOVE bamf!Cas) so maybe this will help him recall it.

I want to say again that Cas is the one who can see through the ghost and its “ridiculous costume.”

Interestingly, both his entrances (his first appearance after Fred and Dean take off to drag race; when he reunites with the boys in the haunted house) frame him as a scary villain. The first is from behind and you just see the coat billowing out (though this did remind me of the girl running the drag race in “Grease” which...lol); the second he’s silhouetted in a window, approaching it in the rain, and is then covered with a sheet before he’s “unmasked” by Dean and discovered to be a friend. This is...pretty much Castiel’s character progression always. Looks like a threat but is discovered not to be.

Once they get back to their regular world Dean makes a remark about how that was the most fun he’s ever had “including that time with the Cartwright twins.” Cas studies him and asks “What did you do with the Cartwright twins?”. There’s a long beat in which Dean looks shifty and grins and shakes his head and turns away. Sam says “I don’t think I want to know.” Cas says nothing. Cas does want to know. This is new and part of a general progression that @amwritingmeta wrote a great analysis of where Cas is becoming able to think something like Forget that sacred oath...I must know what Dean did with those twins.

There was probably more, you guys, but it’s super late for my poor body clock. Please feel free to pass this on to anyone you think would like it but bear in mind that a) there are MASSIVE SPOILERS, b) this is just my interpretation of the episode, and c) I only saw it live once so my details may be wrong.

I thought this as a fantastic episode the more I think about it and I’m SO EXCITED for all of you to get to see it too so I can hear your thoughts!! <3

#13x16 #13x16 meta #SPOILERS #dean is bi #doubles and mirrors #villains as exposition #things that look like other things #toxic masculinity ruins the party again #brother feels #parental unit dean #maybe more tags to add later not sure #paleyfest 2018 #my meta #long post for ts #spoilers for ts

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morshtalon · 6 years ago

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Dragon Quest

What would be the consequence in the videogame industry if Dragon Quest never existed?

For those who somehow don’t know yet, Dragon Quest, released as Dragon Warrior overseas due to some complications with trademarks, while there is some controversy as to what was truly entirely pioneered by it, is credited as the first game to embrace and present the common tropes we associate with classic, console jRPGs today. Even if those credits can be contested, however, it still bears undeniable meta importance within the zeitgeist of japanese gaming, and countless upon countless games can have their origins traced back into DQ’s legacy...

For example, Mr. Shigesato Itoi would use it as direct inspiration for his mother series (the first game bearing many similarities to Dragon Quest with some fresh coatings of paint), which later went on to itself inspire a certain game called Undertale, don’t know if you’ve heard about it?

For further example, there’s this one series called Final Fantasy that basically owes every aspect of its existence to Dragon Quest, considering most of its own games are improvements and twists on mechanics taken from DQ’s own installments. How’s that one doing now?

Also, if you scroll down a bit, you’ll come across my Lufia 1 review. Give it a read while thinking about this, if you could.

In any case, it’s interesting to form this “genealogy” and view just exactly how powerful an impact one thing can have within its medium.

That said, it is essentially a 1986 game with few guidelines driving its design, drawn from its own inspirations in the Wizardry and Ultima series of western RPGs, which can have their lineage traced back to dungeons and dragons, which emerged from tabletop wargames, which... anyway, I digress. Nowadays jRPG gaming has evolved into something far, far apart from DQ’s idiosyncrasies, going on to develop idiosyncrasies of its own, and therefore with modern eyes the game doesn’t even feel like it belongs in the same place. I’ve read reviewers having trouble distinguishing nostalgia from things that are actual merits of the game, and the answer to the question of whether it is an antiquated piece of vaporware belonging in a museum or the aforementioned different approach to concepts that have drifted away over the years is difficult to answer with that state of mind. The first time I played DQ to completion was in 2018, so bearing absolutely no nostalgia for it, I will aim to answer this question in the clearest manner possible.

Dragon Quest is the story of one lone dude with historically inaccurate viking headwear on a bloodline-driven quest to square off against a not-ancient (!!!) evil dude, who took an incandescent lightbulb (that really has no point being there at all), painted it black so the light wouldn’t shine through the coating and that resulted in the land being overrun with monsters conveniently spread out from his fortress to the hero’s starting position in a balanced scaling level of difficulty, in order to provide the hero with the opportunity to build up his muscles and learn healmore eventually because you can’t win the game without it. In the way, there are no plot surprises, there are no rivals, heck, there aren ‘t even any friends (though there is one quite friendly character), you have one major goal given to you right at the start that never changes and one minor one that’s entirely optional and also pretty much given to you at the same point, a cute little world to explore, a few puzzle-esque minor hoops to jump through in order to reach the final dungeon (which together probably don’t amount to half an hour) and tons and tons and TONS of level grinding to do. But how does it execute it all?

Depending on what you’re looking for, holding dragon quest up to scrutiny with the most recently released wizardry or ultima at the time is akin to comparing a book to a movie: many of the complexities and raw content of the formats being used are eschewed in favor of a simpler, trimmed-out experience with a more visual approach (which is humorous now considering the intense density of text contained in DQ in comparison to modern games). Yuji Horii intentionally designed the game to be an experience that newcomers would find easy to learn but veterans would still dive into the intricacies of the mechanics. There is only one party member, only one enemy per battle, only 2 stats besides HP and MP, spells are few and perform simplistic effects, equipment follows a straightforward progression with no multiple choices to he found and the list goes on. To that end I must say I don’t agree with the second part or Mr. Horii’s statement: of course there ARE people who dissected the entire game and have figured out, mattered and exposed every single assembly line there is about this product, but only liminal knowledge of the mechanics is required for one to complete the game, and there is an at best marginal need to even know what’s going on in order to play it with reasonable success; there is just THAT little to it. The most complex strategies involved in the battles amount to casting sleep or stopspell beforehand to prevent enemies from murdering you if you are at a suboptimal level and otherwise wailing away until one or the other gives in.

Is it possible, then, that one of the pivotal and more dearly beloved games in history only achieved its success due to favorable circumstances and a nice (at the time) coating of paint hiding an otherwise non-daring and understimulating product?

...Yes. It is entirely possible. It’s happened many times before with other media, and it’s happened many times since. So is the game a piece of shit? Well... that’s a more complicated answer.

You see, with many future dragon quest games; there’s always something or other I can pinpoint as being a particularity pioneered or otherwise codified and popularized by dragon quest. For example: 2 made popular the common party member progression utilized in many RPG’s throughout time; 3 brought party customization and archetypes (mostly reworked from its blood fathers) into the mainstream; 4 had that AI controlled party member thing and a creative chapter-based method of storytelling (not to mention having a plot back in the day), and so on. Up until now, I hadn’t been able to do the same for the first installment; as previously showcased, the game doesn’t really have innovation, it’s just a simplified version of older stuff.

Then it hit me: the keyword I’ve been looking all along is structure. It’s so obvious to me now that it baffles me I hadn’t thought of it beforehand.

Allow me to illustrate: Ultima barely knew what to even do with its numbers. Levels didn’t serve any purpose for at least 2 games, HP was gained extremely arbitrarily and so were weapons, dungeons also served little to no purpose and there were more red herrings in the game than not-red herrings. Wizardry was more functional but no less loose; party members were these transient things that sort of mattered but sort of didn’t, stats rose and fell in a completely arbitrary fashion and it was once again difficult to discern any practical function in them whatsoever (there are still discussions nowadays about what exactly they do, with only at best vague answers based on more common sense things). Dragon Quest, in its simplicity, had a clear-cut, very obvious flow, everything does exactly what you think it does, nothing is ever lost arbitrarily and items and equipment are beseeched and acquired in 100% non-obtuse, sensical and understandable fashion with no need for peripherals outside the game. This set the base for further development and complexity as the series went on without ever losing track of the main, core design principle of “anyone could pick this up and spend very little time internalizing the concepts herein”. As the complexity began to accumulate, Horii’s statement forged its path to full realization, and along with Dragon Quest, basically every single jRPG followed suit in its advances.

Therefore, this game’s -practical- importance is still, in my opinion, entirely credulous and valid; it’s a stepping stone and a filter, in its reductiveness refashioning dated concepts and sculpting the mindset of players for the ushering in of a new, refined design philosophy, one which would be built upon by its own successors too, but also its peers, all collectively working to fully inject and transform RPG gameplay into the idiossyncratic identity it retains in electronic gaming to this day.

So, that’s all nice and good to discuss, but what is one’s emotion and response when actually playing the game?

There’s no way to answer this question outside of 100% personal input, so in my humble opinion, it’s enjoyable-ish for the right mindset. I already went into it knowing that I would have to appreciate some stuff more conceptually than practically, and I did in fact get enthralled by its offbeat quirks, for what it’s worth. The game really is one “big” item collection puzzle, almost a simplified King’s Quest if you took out the battles, and this worldwide exploration quest would go on to dominate early DQ’s core mindset, with 5 being the first one to break away from it and offer a more linear progression. Frankly, I really enjoy the fact that these old games can get away with disregarding logic sometimes in favor of making the puzzles more interesting (i.e. abusing map boundaries to circle around city walls and access a secret area), and I’m glad the precedent, for a while, was set with DQ, without going overboard with oblique design the way point and click games usually did - perhaps as a byproduct of the memory being busy handling the RPGness of it - and becoming far more fun for it. As previously stated, there is a lot of level grinding, and nothing can really prepare you from the hours of boredom walking left and right waiting for a random encounter, which does act in the game's detriment, but the remakes have softened up the chore I guess so there’s always that option.

Synthesizing the museum piece and actual game aspect of it, Dragon Quest, to me, deserves a 6 out of 10. It is, unfortunately, too simplistic to warrant any higher a rank, and focuses far too much of its time on gameplay that isn’t fun, almost enough to surprise me that the game fared so well, being so intimidating with its earlygame grinding. As I said, however, its importance hoists what fun the gameplay does have into bearably numbing status, and it will give you a feeling of accomplishment when you do strike that death blow against the final boss, like you completed an initiation ritual. I’d recommend it if you’re a genre enthusiast, but you probably already played it if you are so...

#game #rpg #review #criticism #dragon quest

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