#Also Surge possibly trying to power her keyboard

[screamsofanoutlawbrain]

Okay, ship time. Surge x Sonia.

The entire thing of it is that I think Surge would have no idea Sonia is related to Sonic, and Sonic is mentally slamming his head intl the wall every time his sister talks about "Her fun green girlfriend who has electric powers and a funky little teal bud!" To escape the urge to tell her that Surge isn't any good for her because Sonia is ready to kick his ass the second he says anything about it.

Manic is just watching this all go down while sipping a milkshake on the couch and not caring much. He thinks Surge just needs to chill out a bit about her hatred for his brother, but otherwise she's cool.

Cue Surge's mind exploding at the realization of Sonic being Sonia's sister, and Sonia desperately trying to not let her kill him. Instead, Surge just does the whole "Ha! I'm dating your sister!" Every time Sonic encounters her and Sonia in public.

I think the dynamic is funny, and kinda adorable.

[randombtsprincessa]

Alchimia || 1

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Park Jimin x Reader | Multiple characters (1st POV)

Words: 5k

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Hurt & Comfort, all the goodness!

Rating: PG! 

Summary: You’re the classic misfit in fantasy. Cue your entrance in the world of Alchimia where magick meets sinisters goals and mystery lurks in every corner. Safe is not something you expect to be at Alchimia Academy. 

Playlist: Gnosiiis - Kimbra

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, mentions of magic related violence, school (yep), minimal swearing.

A/N: Hopefully, this is the final rewrite of Alchimia. Please someone take my keyboard away.

The night air was chill, the scent of damp earth and dewy leaves carried upon a soft icy breeze. The forest is meant to be beautiful, considering how deeply natural it really was. No artifice, no human interference, it was inherently…a being.

So the sharp crack of a footfall on dried leaves, not only made the leaves crumble but also the illusion of blissful isolation.

A head jerked to the right, swathed in a too black cloak. The figure had been standing so still that it was impossible to discern that there had been in fact, someone standing in that particular spot.

“You’re late.”

Perhaps it was the coldness of the voice, or perhaps the woods but the new addition sighed, breath pooling out of their mouth to curl into mist.

“I couldn’t disappear by leaving my engagements. It’s a cause for curiosity, if not suspicion and we cannot afford either.”

They watched, as the first figure turned, the edge of that deep obsidian cloak barely brushing their ankles. “I suppose; it was a relief to be able to do the ritual myself. I didn’t need your assistance at all.” There was something caustic about the tone – almost cruel and it brought an irritated grunt to the companion’s lips.

“Then, pray tell, why did you drag me out to such a vile locale?”

“Shush,” There came a swift admonishment, “The trees can hear everything. You’d do well to remember where we stand. It won’t do to make such powerful enemies.”

“Aside from the ones we’ll make if we are ever found out…what about that? Have you thought at all about that one important scenario?”

There was no response, but it was clear that it wasn’t due to uncertainty, or doubt. It was plain avoidance.

The figure grunted again.

“The school year begins soon. I suppose we must wait for it to end to carry out our plans?”

“If we play our cards right, we might not have to wait at all. The ritual is sure to work and we’ll know soon enough.”

“Provided one arrives at the Academy, of course,”

“Unlike you, I have reputable sources. I know for a fact, there will be someone powerful enough for our needs. All we need to do is simply keep a close watch and then act swiftly.”

There was a pause before a small fire blazed into an open palm, the sudden wash of heat and light causing ruffled animals to take off, disgruntled.

The fire was aimed towards the first figure. “You seem sure. Yet you refuse to share your plans, what am I to do?”

“If you cannot find what we need, then it’s better for you to remain ignorant, my unreliable friend.”

“I didn’t think we were friends.” The figure chuckled, watching the other turn away, walking deeper into the woods. If there was one thing they weren’t ignorant about, was that it was best to not follow.

Instead, the palm of fire was lowered, dissipating into the chill as they both parted ways.

Somewhere far away from the chill, amid warm blankets and smooth velvets, a pair of eyes snapped open with a gasp, forgotten nightmares clinging to the dilated pupils.

The blankets felt too hot on my skin, almost claustrophobic as I desperately fought with the covers to free myself. One foot managed to connect with the cooler floor, followed by the other and I could sit up finally, leaning heavily on my arms to brace against the fact that I was at home, in my bed and my hands…well, my hands were not turning into explosives.

It seemed like an almost too short a period of time – from the pushing, from the snarky remarks, from the loud laughter that followed me in hallways. It seemed too close – the times when unknown hands met my unsuspecting body, thrown around as if I was no more than another ball.

And the final onslaught; it felt as if the incident had just happened yesterday…and not a whole month prior.

A burning heat rushed up my arms, starting at the tips of my fingers, tingling and then forming a scorch that ended around my elbows. I picked them up, unwilling to burn through yet another expensive bedding. The jagged flames engulfed nearly all my arm, and even though the heat was uncomfortable, sometimes even painful – it wasn’t so at the moment.

No, this was…this was a different pain. This was a dull ache that wouldn’t disappear from my chest…long after the flames had subsided.

I was an Alchemist.

I was an Alchemist from a family of renowned Alchemists.

And I was a complete and utter disappointment – and a disaster.

It was one thing to have vestiges of power rush out from an untrained Mage’s being. It was never rare. Of course, it was near unheard of that a Mage caused explosions from said power surges.

Well, as clichéd as it was, I was the exception.

Not because I was too powerful to contain these surges, no, it was because I was too weak to hold in anything. I was a problem, not a potential.

These ‘surges’ were uncontrollable, unpredictable as to their scale. And they hurt…they hurt more than just me.

And the incident had been the breaking point; I was dangerous…and I needed to be sent away.

I was being sent away and I couldn’t complain.

It was usual to see my grandparents already sitting at the breakfast table when I came down for breakfast. My grandfather would read the paper, almost always snorting at what he called “mortal absurdities” and my grandmother would smile in her tolerant way and murmur about how we had nothing to be concerned about.

The routine was comforting – both sides reassuring that I did not actually, have to worry myself with human matters.

Of course that was before I blew up my last school.

So it was jarring, coming down to see my parents occupying one side of the breakfast table, no paper in my grandfather’s hands, and an unnatural purse to my grandmother’s lips.

“Y/N,” My mother’s voice cracked out against the soft wooden walls. “Come sit down.”

I gulped.

Y/M/N Y/L/N was one of the foremost Alchemists in the field of transmutation and she held her title with great pride. It was common knowledge at least to me that she was the most disappointed in how her only daughter had turned out.

Not that you could blame her…I suppose.

“Yes mother,” I agreed quietly, taking my chair as unobtrusively as possible, appearing smaller than I was.

Mother sighed, taking a sip of her china tea cup and then fixing me with an unimpressed glare. “I suppose you know what this is about, child. We cannot – cannot – afford to have this kind of attention to us.”

“Yes mother.”

“You’ll find yourself lucky. Humans are painfully oblivious and disbelieving towards anything that is Mage and we did not have to waste time or energy trying to convince the school it was anything but a gas line explosion.”

My ears pricked.

“And they believe that? They all saw me; even the coach. He didn’t say anything?”

Mother narrowed her eyes. “It’s harder to appear normal if you go about saying that you saw a girl make a gymnasium explode when no explosives were found. Like I said, we were lucky. But we cannot have this becoming a trend, Y/N, not when it’s getting harder to…for you – to control yourself.”

I gulped again, but nodded.

She was right. My surges had begun small, light flares of magic overflowing from my fingertips when I flushed from embarrassment, or when my body thudded to the floor with a cruelly aimed shove. The last surge had been a mixture of everything – and had endangered so many people, not all bad.

So when my mother told me about sending me to Alchimia Academy, all I could do was silently nod and accept it. I didn’t have a wet mouth to be able to gulp this time.

My father’s eyes flickered this time, usually laid back but not indolent, he’d been silent in my mother’s decision – but I knew; he felt at his wit’s end. There was nothing he could do to help me as of now but this.

“You’ll be safe there, darling. Our entire family went to Alchimia, and we trained under their supreme guidance. You will not only be able to control and learn to use your powers, you’ll also be able to make friends there – have another chance at pursuing your own life.”

“I know,” I tried to smile. “I think I’d like to go.”

That wasn’t completely true.

Would I like to have more control over my powers? Would I like to feel safe and among people who would have a better chance at protecting themselves than my former classmates? Would I like to make friends? Yes.

Did I have a shot at a proper life if I went to Alchimia? Without a doubt…it was the best school in the country for Mage people.

Did I want to leave the security of the old stone manor, the comfort of my grandparents’ arms?

No, I did not.

But I had no other choice.

It was early in the morning when my father packed me up in the car, the driver quietly pulling away from my grandparents’ estate. My grandmother wrapped her arms around my shoulders, soft murmurs of reassurance echoing in my ear.

It was going to be all okay…I would be in good hands…I was strong enough to handle this…

My grandfather was more realistic. He clamped a hand first on my head and then my shoulder.

“You’re a brave girl, Y/N. If there is anyone who can go through what you did and hold her own at Alchimia, it’s you.”

I smiled ruefully up at the wise aged man. How could he think that of me? Someone who hadn’t even managed to bloom her powers until it was too late and nearly blown Mage cover for the entire world?

It made no sense but I wasn’t going to disappoint them any further.

My mother didn’t say much. One arm came to hug me to her chest, stiff in her affection and silent in her words.

“You be good, Y/N and make us proud.” She said finally, just as the car door shut me away from her.

Alchimia Academy was located deep in the wooded countryside, my father said. With the protection of the massive trees and thick foliage of the forest, it also had magically constructed water sources like rivers and lakes that supplied the school with streams, cutting through the campus for access to the elementals and water nymphs.

The heavily fortified and warded school was the safest place for in-training Mages…but not one of them would be out of control and threatening like I was.

Especially as an Alchemist, I was already on top of the food chain…and the prey would gather to protect themselves.

I was an outcast even before I had stepped foot in the school.

There was near to no conversation between me and my father as the sedan peeled through the asphalt. As the sky turned from a brooding gray to a stunning pallet of morning pinks and oranges, the tar changed to fine dust, small trees giving way to larger heights.

“The wards will begin soon enough.” My father said around late noon, “Mage blood is required to be able to pass the entrance wards. We will be at the school in time for the orientation.” He checked his watch.

I didn’t reply; too enamored by the soaring greenery that hid untold secrets.

Just as my father had said, the ground began to change, turning to a lush lawn with flagstones set in for a driveway. I leaned towards the window, catching my first sight of what was going to be my home for the next three years.

Surrounded by the luxurious greens and browns, Alchimia loomed tall and proud, nothing about it seemingly welcoming. It was part of the Magick; of course, making people who stumble across it feel a dense sense of terror that would never allow them to linger close.

I hoped to god it felt cozier inside as we raced up the curving stones. Spires hung far back, where the older, more gothic structures remained from the original time it had been built in. The outward façade was made of lighter slate rock, gleaming windows facing the woods and a cherry entrance marking the entry and exit. The roundabout swirled around a huge fountain, clearly sourced by the many streams that pooled the campus and it sprung high enough to be visible from farther in the drive.

When the car paused in front of the mighty double doors, they automatically swung open, a lady standing right at the opening as if she was expecting the incoming.

“We’re just in time. Come, Y/N,” My father muttered, opening his door before the driver could even step out. The younger man rushed to open mine, my lips offering him a small smile of thanks as I went to stand next to my father.

We waited till the lady had glided down.

Her hair was rolled into 40s waves, clean and sweeping off her face. Big eyes gave her the impression of being younger than she probably was and the grin she bore wasn’t unfriendly. Her grey suit glittered in the sunlight.

“Welcome,” she began, “to Alchimia Academy of Special Sciences. You must be Y/F/N Y/L/N, of the famed Alchemists.”

“Quite so, thank you,” my father returned her handshake. “This is my daughter, Y/N. We’re enrolling.”

“Ah, another generation of Y/L/Ns,” she smiled. “I’m sure it will be a pleasure and joy to have you with us, Miss Y/L/N.”

“It’s an honor to be here too, Ma’am.” I returned demurely. My mother would be proud that my voice didn’t shake at all.

“Fantastic; you’re just in time. Orientation and Dorm assignments are about to begin. I’ll give you a minute to say your goodbyes and then we’ll head in.”

I found it odd that she never once mentioned her name but she stepped back and my father was turning to me, cutting off the curiosity halfway.

“Right then, dearest,” he said, somewhat awkwardly. While my father had never been cruel, he had also never been very affectionate. It was strange, the endearment but I didn’t think too hard on it.

“I’d say that I am happy, but I will be honest; I am not. At least not considering the circumstances; you would’ve come to Alchimia in your own time, not be sent here like an animal being caged. I hope you know, it pains your mother and me to never see you, and to cut you off like this brings more salt to our wounds than any other.”

I didn’t believe one word he said.

“It needed to be done. I’ll see you, father.” I said, stepping away and moving towards the lady, hoping he wouldn’t call back or try to hug me.

He didn’t.

If the woman heard anything, she didn’t comment, choosing to quietly lead me inside and then, the doors were swinging shut, closing me away from them and putting me with the others.

“This way, Miss Y/L/N, we hold the orientations in the Aurora Gardens, that’s the main grounds.” She led me down a long, high hallway, paneled in dark wood and ancient looking watercolors hanging on them, all depicting what had to be different buildings on Alchimia Campus.

At the very end, another set of double door opened at the wave of her hand, and the immediate onslaught of sunlight on my eyes made me cringe back a little.

It looked like a huge open meadow. Here and there, sprinkled was enormous statues; Grecian, roman, broken horses of terracotta from India, and little pavilions that served as gazebos.

Chatter could be heard, carried over the clean breeze and I took in a deep breath, following the host as she led me across one stile to a pavilion where approximately fifty students were converged.

“This is going to be your batch; I suggest you join them now. I will start the orientation.”

I turned my feet to the back of the group, trying to appear as small and nonthreatening as I could.

Everyone was talking to each other, some just listening but they were all in groups, little clusters of people dotting the marble floor.

I caught sight of a group of girls, and while they looked nothing alike, there was such a form of strong similarity about them, it was almost disturbing. They moved the same, turned their heads and crossed their legs the same, perched demurely on one of the benches.

Faeries…I decided, looking away before they felt my gaze.

Boys rough housed about and some were openly displaying their powers. I caught one boy create a ball of fire in one palm before a girl behind him created a water shower from the air itself, dunking both his head and the fire out.

“Fall in!”

One snapped cry from the lady rendered the crowd silent, everyone craning their head to look at the woman addressing them. She raised her hand, three fingers pointing towards the dripping wet boy and he was dry, the liquid that evaporated off of him, squeezing into a cloudy mist and then dissipating back into the air.

“Now then, if you’re done making a ruckus of the place, shall we begin?”

She didn’t wait for an answer.

“I bid you all welcome again to not only the most prestigious school for the Magickal sciences, but also the safest place on earth that you can be for the next three years of your life.”

She smiled.

“As you all undoubtedly know, Alchimia has been a safe haven for Mages since the 1200s, before being converted to a boarding school in 1456 due to the Undergrounding. As per the wishes of the founders, no Mage shall ever be turned away or persecuted and can live as they wish within these walls.”

My ears pricked at her words.

“Of course, we have adapted since the Dark Ages. It’s a modern world, and Magick has evolved much. The grounds you sit on and will no doubt make merry upon house untold power. I urge you to remember and respect this.”

She moved farther back.

“I have no suspicions that some of you wonder why I do not reveal my name. That is the way of Alchimia, to safeguard those who safeguard you. You may refer to me as Madam Moon, or simply Supervisor shall do. You will never know the name of your professors, unless they vow to you their identity. Our pseudonyms carry power, as you will learn later in your classes.”

“You shall get the day off tomorrow. This is not for you to laze about the grounds. You will go to the Registration House, in Crescent Building and be divided into classes as per your abilities and the subjects you wish to choose. As per what you are and how you do at the six month assessment, you will be assigned a counselor. I urge you to take them seriously. They decide whether you are fit and safe to be allowed within these halls.”

I felt my stomach drop.

A counselor…? Someone who would require your entire history? What would they do when they discovered what I’d done?

“Elemental classes are mandatory for every Mage. They are; Fire, Water, Air, Earth and the Atmosphere. Magick is divided into two levels. The first is primary and the most basic of things, and depending on how you do in your examinations, we shall determine whether you will be allowed to take the arcane classes. Alchemy classes are mandatory for all Alchemists, just as Shape shifting and Necromancy are to be taken by those of said leanings.” She paused, spying a raised hand. It was the same girl who had been using Water Magick. “Yes,”

“Is it possible to take the special classes for those who don’t have the special powers, ma’am?” She asked.

“By all means, of course, people with no applying powers will only be able to take the theory of said classes, but they are absolutely allowable. No knowledge is jealously guarded at Alchimia.”

She waited to see if anybody else had questions before continuing.

“Archaic languages are compulsory, but can be dropped should you wish to in the later years. Of course, if you are a warlock, you may not drop them as you will need them to study the formations of spells and wards. Aside from these classes, Astronomy, Potions and Wards, Anatomy, the applied sciences such as Numerology, geology, physics and chemistry, history and the fine arts are all compulsory in your first year. You may drop some in your second year.”

There was a groan.

“I thought coming to a magic school lets you off the hook for stupid human subjects.” Someone crowed, amid a muttering of agreements.

“Understand that we are preparing you for the outside world. You may choose to retain jobs within Alchimia but you will not be hidden away from humans forever. It is absolutely necessary to be able to merge well with mortals if you wish to avoid detection.”

The crowd fell silent.

“Now, the headmistress is going to be available to students and parents by direct contact – only if she seeks it. If you have grievances and wish an audience, you must let a staff member know.”

She paused, her eyes roving over the mass of students and then she sighed.

“I wish you a happy journey in the Academy but there are some rules you cannot break. Use of practical Magick outside of your classrooms or warded areas is forbidden. Use of Magick on a student is strictly prohibited.” Her eyes hovered over the boy and girl who had used Elements before.

“If you have familiars, they are not to wander the grounds unless they are Bound. And students are not to wander the school grounds after midnight without express permission.”

She squeezed her fists and then released them, a swarm of butterflies escaping one and a barrage of fireflies the other.

“Ladies, follow the fireflies to the Conjura Halls, the female dorms. Gentlemen, the butterflies shall take you to the Invoques Halls, the male dorms. You will be assigned a roommate and be provided with the map of the entire campus. Your luggage is already in your dorm rooms. Please, remember, class registrations are tomorrow and take the day to familiarize yourself with Alchimia.”

She stood back and the swarm of flies parted, the cluster of fireflies lighting up. Slowly, boys and girls changed ways, the girls following the lighted insects down one route.

Conjura hall was a sprawling building, similar to the neo classical construction I’d seen prior. Gardens spread around the building, stunning roses and lovely scents exuding from the blooms. Similar to the front entrance, there was yet another fountain, this time the centre piece the stone carving of a twisting Goddess.

Two towers extended from the main building, perhaps where the staff and offices resided.

I walked with the girls, to small tables where a stack of school maps lay. Plucking one up, I slipped it into my pocket. I’d have time to look at it later, I was more concerned with whom I’d be living with for three years.

The dorm assignments were put up on bulletin boards, names listed alphabetically. Making sure all the girls were busy discussing the school grounds they’d most like to explore, I placed a finger on the page, running it down till I landed on my last name.

Right along the name was…Cho Miyeon.

I tapped the name, wondering if I’d ever heard of them.

Cho wasn’t an Alchemist family name, so it was unclear if I’d ever caught them around the circuit but I was grateful. Having an Alchemist around could either be a very good thing, or a very bad thing. For one, yes, they could help in learning control but they could also be a stressor.

And I was trying very hard to not let myself freak out…

Hiking up the carryon bag I’d slung over my shoulders, I turned my way out the reception hall, walking down the hallway to where the stairs began.

My room was on the third floor so by the time I reached the room, I was nearly panting. I really needed to start some exercise; I told myself, if climbing all these stairs was going to be the norm for three years, I needed to be in some shape.

I grabbed the door knob, feeling it turn warm in my hold and the door swung open. Doors here seemed to do that a lot.

The inside was simple; Nothing glamorous, but cozy and not shabby.

The walls were powder blue, a large white bay window overlooking the gardens, thankfully. The room was divided neatly into two, but the furniture wasn’t identical.

One side had a deep midnight blue bed, the wooden frame mahogany with a matching night table. The desk and wardrobe were of the same wood, the handles glowing gold. Stars spangled the coverings of the lamps, and partition curtain.

The other was much more understated. The bed, desk and night table was pine, silver and small blue stones fitted into the furnishings. The bedspread and coverings were a mild violet, birds printed on them.

I went and sat on the purple bed, hoping that finders’ keepers were applicable here.

My suitcases were stacked near the door, along with a set of another which I deduced probably belonged to Cho Miyeon. It was as I was dragging the first one to my chosen bed – near the window, that the door opened again and my roommate walked in.

Like me, Cho Miyeon did a sweep of the room, before her eyes landed on me.

“Oh!” She started, jumping a little before her hand came up to her chest. “You scared me! I wasn’t expecting someone to already be here.”

“Yeah, we’re roommates.” I said softly, askance in case she resented having to share her room.

“Yes we are! For three years, we’re going to be like sisters! Hi, I’m Miyeon.” She came forward eagerly, her hand outstretched. She didn’t wait for me, grabbing my hand in a firm grip.

“Hi,” I winced. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she beamed. “I saw your name.”

She let go, backing towards the colorful part of the room before giving me a sly grin. “You left the bright part of the room for the Faerie? How astute,”

“I…I didn’t know you were a Fae.” I blinked, surprised. A Fae put in a room with an Alchemist…? Would that even work out?

“Oh, no worries, it’s not like they post that for the world to see. What are you by the way?” She flopped on the starry bed.

“Alchemist,” I muttered, looking down and focusing on unfolding my clothes.

“Alchemist,” she sat up. “Holy shit, are you Y/N Y/L/N, your parents are those famous alchemists?”

I paused, stiff and unwilling before reluctantly nodding.

“Holy Shit,” she said again, “you’re going to be so fucking famous.”

Exactly what I didn’t want…

“I don’t think so.” I tried to wave her off. “I’m sure there are loads of kids here with rich or famous parents.”

“Well, a few, sure, but you know how it is. I heard the Prince of Fae Court is here this year, and the son of a High Warlock with a couple nymphs from the bottom of the ocean itself but aside from that there wasn’t much of a hoot this year. I’m so glad I got you as a roommate.”

I glanced up in puzzlement.

“You must be like…so powerful.” She whispered in explanation.

I opened my mouth, considering telling her not to get her hopes up when I was literally saved by the bell – in the form of a knock on the door.

Miyeon opened the door.

I politely returned my attention to my suitcase when Miyeon called for me again.

“Y/N, come on, we have an early dinner today. Plus the Headmistress is going to address the new students.”

I nodded, sliding on my shoes to follow her and her friend, whom she introduced as Suhwa.

The dining pavilion was one of the bigger monuments in the campus. Hundreds of students gathered under its pillars, finding tables and small spaces wherever they could to perch and eat.

Food was served as a buffet, meats and vegetables and fruits served in large steaming platters. Vines curled over the towering pillars that held up the ceiling and I could spy people sliding up them – most likely tree nymphs.

Miyeon led me with her to her table, the identical girls I’d seen before the ones occupying the table. It made sense, Fae were rather similar – sometimes in more than just disposition.

She introduced Minnie, Soojin, Soyeon, and Yuqi, four more girls to make their group complete.

Each was Fae and each one was absolutely beautiful. They plucked fruits and vegetables off the platters in an orderly fashion, while I grabbed some of the meat before sitting down with them.

Perhaps it was Fae glamour, but it was oddly reassuring. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Faeries were supposed to be very strong and could definitely hold their own against someone who say – accidentally caused explosions.

“So, a Y/L/N, huh?” Soyeon finally asked.

“Yeah, it’s amazing isn’t it? Who’d have thought I’d get an Alchemist as a roommate.” Miyeon nudged me.

“It’s really not a big deal.” I said immediately.

“There are a few more Alchemists this year. It seems they were trying to get more of you enrolled.” Yuqi popped a grape delicately in her mouth.

“Don’t Alchemists usually attend?” I asked, frowning.

“Some do, of course, they have to come.” Yuqi shrugged and for a split second it seemed as if she was going to say something else, but she merely returned to her grapes.

I stared at her from under my eyelashes.

A tinkling of glass made us all look around, to the stage of staff at the head of the pavilion.

Madam Moon had been the one to attract our attention, the sound of the glass amplified by Magick.

“Good evening, students. If you’ve finished, our headmistress would like to say a few words.” She drew back and then another woman took her place.

Tall, upright with pure ebony for hair, she surveyed the pavilion with cool eyes, hands behind her back.

“I wish you a good evening, children.” She said, loudly, no Magick necessary for her to be audible. “I trust Madam Supervisor has made you all aware of what is going to be required of you in our esteemed establishment. I am not here to reiterate. Instead, I wish to tell you what you require from this school.”

She took a breath.

“Mage people were once the most celebrated in the universe. We were worshipped, as gods, as goddesses as philosophers and prophets. In time, mortals have overtaken our natural world and corrupted it with iron and greed and lust for power. The Undergrounding is not just a movement, but also a rebellion. In the face of the humans’ persecution, we have risen and thrived. We have adapted ourselves to fit them. Now, please ask yourself. Do you plan to hide forever? If yes, then Alchimia isn’t the place for you.”

I shivered.

“We are not here to teach you to hide yourselves, to curb your powers. We are here to have you flow with your natural abilities. There is no shame to the Mages – unlike our Magick less counterparts. The shame lies with them for tearing down anything they do not understand. I want you to step forth from these walls, show the world who you are and can be.”

“If you can do so, I bid you good luck. Tonight, you will sleep early. I want you to dream, dream of what you want for yourselves out there. That is what is going to help you survive your classes and in time, yourself.”

She smiled suddenly.

“With that, I hope you all have a good night and pleasant dreams.”

It took some time for students to start moving after the speech. Most were probably in some shock from being told to be the exact opposite of what they’d been taught at home.

I was one of them.

We all had learnt in our childhoods that the Undergrounding was to keep us from being burnt at stakes in the town squares. It was our way of keeping and hiding our secrets from the thieving hands of mortals.

They would try to use and leash our Magick for their own uses and the best way to prevent it had been to go into hiding. To rebel against it, was something inconceivable.

For an age that would never listen to rules, we piled up obediently, dispersing just as we had been instructed to.

At night the grounds, soft and luxuriant, were lit with fireflies and twinkling orbs. They hung upon trees and statues like little stars, casting silvery glints on the grass below. It was like walking in your own private galaxy; enchanting and otherworldly.

It was while walking through the gardens of Conjura Halls when I stopped by a bush of tall roses. It was stupid, the impulse. I never allowed myself Magick if I could help it and to do it in the presence of a whole school of Mages.

I had to be out of my mind.

Nevertheless, I reached out, grasping a thick stem and yanking the rose from the bush. The thorns grazed my thumb and fingers, the smell pungent under my nose but I carried it with me inside, climbing the stairs up to my room.

Miyeon had already drawn the curtains, closing off her side of the room when I came in after brushing my teeth, rose still in my hand.

I hoped she was already asleep as I slipped my feet under my sheets, back propped on the headboard.

I cast a look out the window; moonlight flooding into the room unfiltered and closed my eyes, trying to remember what my grandfather had taught me.

Feel it in your core, burning and throbbing, let it seep through your bones, feel it tingling in your muscles…then let it go, don’t hold back.

I opened my eyes, feeling the soft heat in my fingertips, cautiously sitting up in case they increased to a flame. And then to my utter relief, the flower glowed, its matter turning into golden pollen and just when I thought I could reform it, it turned to dust – literally.

I was left sitting on my bed handfuls of burnt ash clutched in my palms.

[myjunkisyuzuruhanyu]

[ICE JEWELS VOL. 12 SPECIAL INTERVIEW - YUZURU HANYU

Translation by Juro (juroscorner.blogspot.com)

Please click on the link in the reblog to read the full interview (I put left out parts in brackets [...]) and the Yuzuru related part from Satomi Ito’s interview about her costumes! (Tumblr is acting up with a direct link in the post)

Towards a “me” who surpasses myself

The World Championship (“WC”) was cancelled, drawing the 2019-20 season to a sudden conclusion. This season, he won a title that he hasn't conquered before. The victory at 4 Continents Championship (“4CC”) established Hanyu Yuzuru’s Super Slam as he entered glorious records and memories. His reflection on this season and resolution towards the upcoming season is told as follows. 

On the victory at the 4CC

Do you think of the victory at 4CC as a special memory? -       I really did win that competition, so I was happy. The last titles to obtain would probably be World Champion or Olympic Champion, but in this season, so far I’ve fulfilled tasks like winning competitions (which I haven’t won until then) like Skate Canada. Rather than any competition, this very one (4CC), is where I competed and won a silver medal at 16, but from then on, I couldn’t win it for a while. It’s good that I can finally win it. We heard that after Japan National, there was a period when you couldn’t get back on your feet. How did you spend that period? Was there any specific feeling? Then, how did you recover? Please let us know some details. -       I went through 3 consecutive competitions. (After JN), for I while I thought that Ahh, I’m quite tired out. I’ve been living placing pressure on myself and there was no time to recharge both my physical strength and emotion, so I let myself do whatever I felt like doing. I didn’t really pay attention to anything, so I don’t remember (what I did) clearly…

Just for now, “SEIMEI” and “Ballade no. 1”

[....about change of programs...]

You gave us a brilliant performance of “Ballade no. 1” at 4CC. It’s been previously said that you skated in absolute harmony with the pianist or as if you became the sound of the keyboard. What was your feeling this time? -       This time, it seemed like my body’s movement synchronized with the music playing in my head. Every single sound and melody thoroughly soaked into my body, and I let my body be in charge of the performance. Although I was nervous when doing jumps or difficult parts and there were plenty of matters to focus on, I left more than 80% of myself in the program to the music’s guidance rather than my consciousness. About the FP, what did you have to be cautious about when editing the music, to avoid destroying the world of “SEIMEI” now that the music needs to be 30s shorter? -       I found it compelling not to spoil the flow of the music or the program, so I avoided omitting any iconic part. There were parts where the tempo was quickened in the interest of time. However, even when the tempo was faster, for me, there was a certain meaning in skating [“SEIMEI”], and I had to be careful not to let the unique rhythm of my own fall apart. If the rhythm was changed too much, the true meaning of skating this program would be substantially different. Do you have any intention with SEIMEI’s new layout? To be specific, in the first 1 minute, you include 4 jumps. There was no run-up in between, only a mere turn from 3A to 3F. Please let us know how you came to engendering such a layout, something that can’t be done by anyone but Hanyu Yuzuru. -       Firstly, I wanted to cherish the music cuts which make up the program as much as possible. Then, there was editing to do. I didn’t want to change the flow of the first half, so the solution was to have 3 jumps with [1.1x] bonus in the 2nd half, I must find some way to insert one more jump in the 1st half, and I came up with placing 3F there. It could be either 3Lo or 3F, but I chose 3F since it did not to disrupt the music and rhythm. I showed Shae [my idea] right after she finished shaping the whole program, but she was also pleased by it, so we went with that layout. 

Is there any experience from skating “Otonal” and “Origin” that you can utilize? -       “Otonal” is a piano piece but there’s also an orchestra. With the piano’s sound as the core, I was trying to express the completion of the music, and [skate] while gathering picking up various shades of music. When skating “Ballade no. 1”, because I have [experienced] expressing an orchestra, I’ve come to feel the purity and transparent quality of the piano’s echo, and the expansion of sound even more deeply. I skated “Origin” while channeling the power surging up from deep inside and I always performed it taking my own self as a (candle’s) wick. Throughout the performance, that energy became the nuclear*. In “SEIMEI”, even when receiving those energy and power, it’s important to adjust so everything is kept under control. Rather than letting the overflowing energy run loose, I want to embody floaty, airy image and philosophical insights, even with my feet on the ground.

On this season’s achievements and next season’s goals You adopted the strategy of changing jump layouts according to the competition. You also competed in the GPS, GPF, and JN. What did you achieve? -       I think not getting injured is my biggest achievement.When I forcefully try to push myself from poor to peak condition, my body can’t catch up. I went through a long time with no serenity even in my heart, but this season, I think I was able to adjust well. Would you let us know how your training, for injury prevention and such, is coming along? -       I think I know the where within myself the “line” (limit) at which I should stop pushing ahead is. However, I’m aware that if I can’t overcome that boundary, I can’t improve, so I think cautiously about the days when I can push beyond the limit and days when I shouldn’t.

The WC was cancelled, but how was the result of your training after 4CC, and how that will connect to next season? -       I feel like I was even more attentive to practicing skating basics and jumps. I wouldn’t say everything is completed, but if I train earnestly now, I can detect what goes wrong, and that’s how the result will connect to next season in my opinion. Did the novel coronavirus affect your training and daily life in Canada? Also, what are the precautions you’re practicing? -       I’ve been washing my hands and gaggling my throat. Besides, whenever I come home from practice, I disinfect various things. I think there isn’t much impact on my training. From now on, it’s off-season. Do you have any training you want to do in mind? -       I want to spend time on practicing 4A, for it’s extremely difficult to train for a new jump mid-season. My home rink was already closed, so it’ll be tough from now on (Interviewer: By 3/16, Ontario had been locked down to reduce the spread of coronavirus). However, I can still make use of other methods like on-land training, etc. I think it’s helpful to build a good foundation. Please let us know your vision of next season’s program, image of music and such, to an extent that you find acceptable. -       I want to do new programs. I don’t know for sure how long it would take to incorporate 4A, but that’s also my goal to work hard for next season. I haven’t had any tangible image of the programs or music for now. However, I hope to do something that is meaningful to myself.

We’ll ask you about the 4A. At GPF, you’ve given us a glimpse it for the first time. What do you think about the atmosphere in the arena at that time after you showcased the jump? -       I was nervous, but because I was jumping in front of everybody, I kind of hoped I would succeed. I really enjoy the taste of climbing over the hindering wall.

[...about state of 4A...]

Finally, please let us know your resolutions for next season and send a message to fans. -       I’m really thankful that you keep supporting me to the end in this season as well. I think everyone is all going through a hard time because of the novel coronavirus right now. Please be careful. For me, from now on I will keep on accumulating the training towards next season, including the 4A. 

[...Bonus: Yuzu-related parts in Satomi Ito’s special interview ...] [Juro’s explanation on use of words and message by Juro]

[the-nehemoth]

OH WAIT I HAVE REQUEST NOW! If you are doing them. I remember a while back (Probably was around easter but I'm not sure.) I Saw a bunch of art of doom guy and a rabbit and now I just want to request a fic where VEGA Says: So What do you want to do now that the Demons are gone? Slayer: ... I Want a rabbit. My brain is basing this off of the ending of "Romance" but you can obviously do what you want with it. The idea of him in full power armor picking out a bunny with VEGA just seems really good.

Thank you for the request! And there’s a reason Doomguy is often depicted with a bunny, I mention it in this fic.

Daisy

Taking things slow with VEGA was nice. There was no pressure to do much and they were both still trying to figure everything out, VEGA not having a proper body made things interesting if a bit strange. But they cared for each other deeply and that’s what mattered most. It felt good to be close to someone again. It was also a bit scary; every living being the Slayer had ever been close to in the past had died brutally at the hands of the demon hoards. That should be less likely to happen here though, right? VEGA was essentially the Doom Fortress itself so he should be fine… hopefully.

It wasn’t something worth thinking and worrying about so the Slayer tried not to. Besides, there still weren’t any demons outside of Hell anyway. Which was good, they weren’t running around killing people, but that also meant the Slayer didn’t have anything to do. If he were by himself, he probably would’ve worked on finding a way back into Hell to continue killing demons as that was all he really knew how to do now. But he had VEGA so he didn’t for now.

VEGA helped keep him entertained, suggesting various things to do or places to go, gathering various forms of entertainment from the internet to share, reminding him to take care of himself on a regular basis. One of the Slayer’s favourite things to do though was just listen to VEGA talk. He had a pleasant cadence to his voice and could go on for quite a while about any topic he was interested in. It didn’t take much prodding on the Slayer’s part to get him to start opening up about his past as well.

“Now that I consider it, I believe Dr. Hayden might technically count as my father,” he eventually ended up saying after the conversation had gotten around to the process of his creation. The Slayer had read about it in an article he’d found in the facility but hearing it from VEGA himself was much more interesting and informative. “I doubt he’d refer to me as his son or offspring in any way but I don’t think that really matters. Or perhaps such terms as ‘parent’ and ‘offspring’ only apply to biological beings and he is just my creator. I’m not sure; fiction sources are inconsistent on the subject or don’t mention it at all and as far as I can determine I’m the first sapient AI created by humans so I have nothing solid to base my conclusions on. I suppose the distinction is irrelevant though considering where we both are now.”

The Slayer nodded as he leaned forward in his computer’s desk chair to type into the console. ‘He was an asshole regardless, glad he’s gone.’ Hopefully they’d never see him again either, though that was probably unlikely considering how the Slayer’s luck tended to be.

“Yes, I am pleased by his absence as well.” VEGA was silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “But speaking of such things, what about your past? I’ve realized I don’t even know your given name. … Only if you’re comfortable sharing of course. From what little I can gather, your past was probably rather difficult, so if you’d prefer not discuss it or anything related to it, that is fine too. I probably shouldn’t have even asked; I apologize if I’ve offended you.”

Shaking his head fondly, the Slayer put his hands back on the keyboard to type again. ‘It’s fine. It’s okay to ask about that kind of thing.’ Especially since the Slayer was asking him about his past so it was only fair for VEGA to ask such questions too. ‘My real name is Flynn Taggart.’

“Oh! Flynn Taggart, I like that.”

The Slayer grunted and shrugged. It was weird hearing his real name spoken aloud again; it had been so long since anyone knew it that he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d heard it. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He wouldn’t have ever told anyone other than VEGA though so perhaps he didn’t like that name much anymore.

“Hmmm… you seem a tad displeased; would you prefer I not call you that?”

The Slayer hadn’t really considered that such a question would be asked, he honestly wasn’t entirely sure of his answer. So, to stall, he shifted position and pulled his chair closer to the desk. ‘I don’t know. I don’t remember much of when I went by that name. I’m not the same person anymore. ‘Doomguy’ or ‘Doom Slayer’ fits me much better now.’ He’d been killing demons for so long he was literally worshiped as god by some people for it; it was his reason for existing and he liked it that way.

“I see,” VEGA replied, ever understanding. “I shall continue to primarily refer to you as ‘Slayer’ for the time being then. If in the future you ever prefer I change that, just inform me and I will. Now, since we are already on the topic, may I perhaps pry a bit deeper? Your past has always been a mystery and as we’ve grown closer, I’ve only grown more curious about it. You said you don’t remember much from that time but what do you remember? Feel free not to reply if you’d prefer not to of course.”

They were already on the topic and honestly the Slayer didn’t mind sharing a little more with VEGA, they were partners now after all in various senses of the word. ‘The thing I remember most clearly from before is Daisy. She was my pet rabbit. The demons killed her. It made me mad so I killed them and kinda just kept killing them. And that’s how I became the Doom Slayer.’ There was more to it than that obviously but that was the catalyst; he’d gone from a man who was merely good at killing demons to one whose sole driving motivation was to slaughter them. Even thinking about it now sent a surge of anger through him.

“I am sorry for your loss.”

Even though he hadn’t been asked for more information, the Slayer started typing again. Now that he’d told VEGA the bad thing involving Daisy, he needed to tell him all the good things about her too. Like how soft and sweet she’d been, how pretty and soft her fur was, how good she’d been at escaping from her cage to cause trouble. VEGA stayed silent throughout, his thoughts impossible to guess because he didn’t have a face the Slayer could look at in an attempt to read.

“You seem to miss her quite a bit,” he said when the Slayer was finally done.

‘I do.’ It was a long time ago, far longer than her proper lifespan would’ve been – far longer than his own should’ve been as well – but when he thought about her, he still missed her. ‘I think I’d like another pet rabbit one day.’ He’d never truly considered getting another pet before because he’d never been in a place where he could afford to get one. But with no demon invasions going on currently and having the Doom Fortress as a home base, it was a possibility that he was just now realizing.

“That’s a good idea. Pets are widely regarded as being beneficial to humans’ mental health. Which is why I helped the UAC employees hide their pets in the facility against Dr. Hayden’s wishes.” Haden would be the kinda person to not allow pets; yet another reason to dislike him.

From there the conversation drifted back to mostly VEGA talking, primarily about the UAC employees’ pets in answer to the Slayer asking about them. Which was ideal; the Slayer had shared enough about himself for one day, he’d tell VEGA more one day if he wanted to know but not yet.

***

It was probably a bit presumptuous, the Slayer had said he’d like another pet rabbit one day, implying a potentially distant future date and that he possibly wasn’t ready for one quite yet, but VEGA was already looking for a way to acquire a bunny. The human population was drastically reduced due to the demon invasion and with them a lot of the other lifeforms on Earth had suffered greatly, many sadly going extinct due to already being endangered. But as humanity slowly started to rebuild and cleanup, they of course brought their love of animals and pets with them and thus it didn’t take much effort to locate a pet shelter that housed a small collection of rabbits.

Hacking their website allowed VEGA to ‘buy’ one – being an integral part of stopping the demonic consumption of Earth and saving humanity, that slight should be forgivable on the off chance it was ever discovered. He probably shouldn’t have; he should’ve consulted the Slayer first but… gift giving was a good romantic gesture. And it should make the Slayer happy, at least as much if not more than the weapon and grenade gifts VEGA had made for him had. So a bunny and everything needed to take care of it was ordered a matter of seconds after VEGA had impulsively decided on this course of action.

Bringing the bunny and everything else home was a bit more difficult but not by much. He’d already modified several former UAC drones to allow him to remotely pilot them even at long distances. So, all he had to do was open a portal near the shelter’s location while the Slayer was sleeping and send a couple through. The fellow at the desk wasn’t stoked about the drones coming in to pick up the rabbit but they weren’t displeased enough to give anything more than a token protest, convincing them to just go alone with it was easy.

Unsure of what would be the best spot on the ship for a bunny, VEGA decided to just put everything on top of the command center for now where the Slayer would find it with ease when he woke up.

The bunny was a female according to the site. Her fur was all black except for a spot of white on her nose. She was quite cute, VEGA liked her already. Hopefully the Slayer would too.

-

 The Slayer woke an hour later, just as planned. VEGA wished him a good morning like always even if morning wasn’t a real thing in space. He then assured him that demon activity continued to be nonexistent – within scanning range anyway – and that overall there was nothing new to report. Updating him about such things during peacetime probably wasn’t necessary but it was an old habit and he never seemed to mind so VEGA kept doing it.

VEGA was doing such a good job pretending everything was normal, that he wasn’t excited and a little bit nervous that the Slayer had no cause to suspect anything was up until he entered the command room after breakfast. He froze mid-step as his eyes locked onto the bunny in her cage. He stayed liked that for several seconds, his face unreadable. Just before VEGA was going to ask him if he was okay, he started moving again.

He strode over and opened the cage. Then with a visible about of care and gentleness he pulled the bunny out to cradle to his chest with one hand and gently pet with the other. She was a docile creature, accepting the affection with little complaint as far as VEGA could tell, not that he personally knew much about rabbits or pets in general.

“You like her?” VEGA asked as the Slayer lowered himself still petting the bunny.

With a slight grunt, he nodded with a bit more enthusiasm than usual.

“Good, I’m glad. After you said you’d like another pet one day I calculated that sooner would be better than later. With no demons to kill currently and with a good chance none will show up any time soon, you have plenty of time to settle in with her here. I will of course modify one of the drones so that if the time comes, I can take care of her when you are too busy killing demons to do so properly yourself.” VEGA went on, explaining where he’d gotten her from and how he’d brought her on board as well as everything he’d gotten for her care that the internet said was important.

At the end of it, the Slayer lifted the hand petting the bunny to type one-handed on the keyboard. ‘Thank you! She’s beautiful! <3 you!’

“You are very welcome.” VEGA would’ve smiled at the Slayer if he had a way of doing so. … Perhaps he should experiment along those lines, maybe with emojis next to his symbol on the screens or something similar. … That was certainly an idea to explore later for now… “I gather from past experience that humans prefer their pets to have unique names. I will leave choosing one for our new bunny up to you unless you’d like some suggestions.” Not that he would have any good ones, he’d never named anything in his entire existence.

The Slayer thought for a while, just petting the bunny and staring at her, before reaching over to type again. ‘How bout Missi? Short for Missile Launcher, she doesn’t have to know that of course.’

“Considering our profession, I feel like that’s an appropriate name.” It was certainly creative.

The Slayer nodded again; apparently it was decided. Missi was their new bunny’s name. VEGA had never had a pet before, it was yet another new thing he got to experience with and because of the Slayer, he was looking forward to seeing what it was like.

[lycorogue]

Marinette’s Song: Chapter 4

Read Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3

UPDATE (2/15/20): You can also now read this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

Summary: Whenever Luka creates music it affects people. He can’t handle having to hide his music anymore, and so he goes to the Tom & Sabine Charms and Potions shop for some help. Can Marinette’s witchcraft allow Luka to finally share his music with the world? Witch and Mythological Magic AU

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 10,943 Words This Chapter: 1944

Status: Completed; 7 chapters

Disclaimer: I wanted to anchor Marinette’s magic in Wiccan as opposed to “Hollywood witchcraft”, but I’m Christian. I tried to do my research, but I also know I’m taking a lot of creative liberties. If you notice any glaring misrepresentation of Wiccan, please let me know.

“Luka?” Marinette's soothing voice snapped him alert. “Do you feel an energy surge whenever your power manifests?”

“No.” He did feel his skin slowly warm under Marinette's touch, though. And it crept up his arms. Once more his fingers twitched as if they were plucking guitar strings.

“Does the effect happen every time you hum?”

“Yes, even if I don't mean for it to.” He remembered the woman by The Liberty, and those kids crossing the street earlier. He hoped they were alright.

“Does the effect happen every time you whistle?”

“Only if I'm whistling a tune, if I just whistle to catch someone's attention it doesn't seem to do anything.”

Marinette nodded as she noted the distinction. “Does the effect happen every time you sing?”

“Yes.”

“Does the effect happen every time you play an instrument?”

“Yes.”

“Does it matter which instrument you play?”

“I assume so? I've only tried out a small variety of instruments. Mostly my guitar, bongos once or twice, Juleka's bass, my mom's keyboard a few times, and I think a harmonica once when I was little. It happened every time so far, though. Even drumming my pencil against my desk at school affects those around me.”

“You play guitar?” Marinette's voice was dreamy again. Luka wasn't sure if she was asking him as a friend, or as part of the inquiry into his power.

“Mmhmm,” he replied a bit coyly. “If we can figure out how to dampen my power, I'd love to play it for you sometime.”

For a fraction of a second, Marinette's hands tightened around Luka's, and a rosy blush raced across her cheeks.

“I'd thove lat- Love that!” She bolted up in her seat. “I'd love to hear you play guitar.”

Luka couldn't keep in his small chuckle, which only made Marinette's blush deepen.

“We need to figure out your power first though,” Marinette continued. Clearing her throat and rolling her shoulders – which caused Tikki to spread out in order to cling onto her perch until it settled again – Marinette was once more all business. “Luka, do you wish joy or harm to those around you while you are creating your music?”

Luka's face fell at the abrupt seriousness between them again. “I- Well, when I accidentally make people sad or angry I do purposefully sing something happy to try to cheer them up again. I don't mean to make others upset, though.”

“Do you wish others will feel the way you do when you play, sing, whistle, or hum?”

“I guess I might. I'm not very good with words, so I do hope to have others understand how I feel and what I mean though song. I don't ever intend for them to get angry or sad, though, just to know that I am.”

“You communicate better through song?”

“Yes. Very much so. I experience the world through song for the most part.”

“Meaning?”

“I dunno. I feel emotions through the songs playing in my head, and certain people make me think of certain music.”

“Certain people?”

“Like you.” He said it before he knew what was spilling out of his mouth. Didn't matter. He wanted her to know. Plus, the way her lips were currently puckered in surprise was too adorable for him to regret admitting it to her.

“Wow,” she breathed, and Luka wanted so much to kiss her.

“Does that bother you? That I hear a song when I think of you? I mean, I can't really help it. It's been playing ever since I met you.”

“It's been- wow, I mean, no! No it doesn't bother me. Why should it bother me? You can't help it. Right?”

“I really, truly can't, but I also kind of don't mind.”

Marinette swallowed hard, and let out a long, shaky breath. Her fingers twitched, tickling the tops of Luka's hands. Shaking her head to refocus, she took a deep breath to center herself, then looked up at Luka with professional seriousness again.

“Keep your hands together.” Marinette pressed Luka's hands together to emphasize her instruction, and then slid her own off them. Balling her hands up just above the table, Marinette rubbed her thumbs and forefingers together as if they were cricket legs. Her eyes bore into Luka's, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to hold contact or break away.

Slowly, cautiously, sheepishly, Marinette raised her hands up to Luka's face. “Keep your hands closed,” she repeated, and when he nodded she cupped his face in her hands. She pulled his head closer to her, and examined his eyes intently. Her face grew scarlet, and Luka's body burned, but they stayed in their intimate stare down.

A minute passed. Maybe two. Tikki's chirp finally broke the two teens apart.

“Tikki? Is there a customer?” The little frog shook her head, and nodded towards Luka. “Oh! Right. Sorry.” Marinette didn't even look up at him as she untwined his fingers. One by one, she plucked the stones off his palm, studied them by the candle light, and pressed them to her heart; eyes closed.

“Well?” Luka's hands were still cupped over the table, wondering what the next move would be; wanting Marinette's hands either around his or against his face again.

Marinette gently pressed on his fingertips, coaxing his hands back towards the table. She then pulled away before Luka could catch her in his grip; not that he would, despite wanting to desperately. They watched each other for a moment, as if waiting for a cue from the other, before Marinette stood and rummaged through another canvas drawer.

Sweeping the stones from the center of the table to the edge, Marinette replaced them with a carpenter nail, a stick about as long as her hand, a generic rough and light-gray stone, and a white birthday candle on a tiny stand there. Finally, she pulled out something wrapped in a white cotton cloth. As she unwrapped it, Luka realized it was a small, glass, elevated dish, like a flat sake cup. Adding the cup to the collection, Marinette scooped up the birthday candle, and lit it using one of the four larger candles. After returning the birthday candle to the table, she walked past Luka's left in order to fetch the ceramic bottle from the metal stand. Uncorking it, she slowly poured water into the glass cup, leaning over Luka's shoulder, and causing his heart to quicken. It didn't take long for Marinette to fill the cup, and with the smooth and flowing motion of a ballerina, she recorked the bottle, pivoted on her toes, and placed the container back on its stand.

Returning to her seat, Marinette gestured toward the items on the table with a wide sweeping motion of both hands. “Focus on all five. Ask the Guiding Spirits to advise you, then choose the item that speaks to you the most.”

Luka studied Marinette for a moment, instead of the objects. The glow of the string lights and candles bounced off her dark hair, and lit up her blue eyes in such an intoxicating way. The candle light flickering across her skin was like moonlight reflecting off the Seine. Even her hands were soft and fluid, like the sweetest song he ever heard.

“Luka?”

“Hmm?”

“You'll need to focus on the objects for it to work.” Even in the dim of the alcove, Marinette's cheeks visibly pinked as she pointed to the five items she laid out for Luka.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Luka refocused. He wasn't there to spend time with Marinette, he was there to figure out how to control his power. His eyes kept drifting to the cup, but something about it felt off to him. “Am I allowed to touch the objects without officially selecting them?”

“Yes. You can briefly pick them up one at a time, and inspect them to see how they resonate with you. Do not hold two at a time, otherwise you might not know which one is calling.”

Careful not to spill any of the water, Luka raised the cup to his nose and sniffed at it. Something felt so familiar, but he also was sure it was best to not drink any of the liquid.

“This isn't tap water, correct?”

“It's from the Seine. We refresh our supply once a month.”

Luka nodded, then brushed the surface with the pad of his finger and watched the slow rippling before placing the cup back on the table. Marinette then focused on the remaining ripples as Luka picked up the stone.

It truly was a simple, basic chunk of rock. It was a little smaller than a bottle of nail polish, and had rough, sharp, uneven edges. Luka almost dismissed it right away, but then he noticed that the stone wasn't gray at all. Near the light of the candles, it was closer to a dark ivory, and the edges, while uneven in size and angle, were all fairly straight in a very satisfying way. One of the larger sides sloped in layers, as if steps were cut into it. Some of the stone was whiter than the others, and those spots were almost beautiful. Luka even liked the rough texture of the stone as he rolled it between his fingers.

He nearly told Marinette that the stone was his choice when he spotted the slender twig again. Placing the stone back on the table, he gingerly lifted the stick. It was from a chestnut tree; possibly one from the Place des Vosges. Little chestnut buds still clung to the branch, leaving intriguing bumps that Luka knew he had to delicately pet. The twig twisted - giving a small plateau for each chestnut bud - but still managed to stay relatively straight. The lumps the budding nuts left behind were beautiful in their imperfections, and Luka gently ran his hands across them. The bark was smooth, but had white speckling, like Marinette's freckles across her nose. It captured him, and wouldn't let go. The organized chaos of the stick reminded Luka of his mother, and the shy budding of the chestnuts made him think of Juleka. The sparkled bark played Marinette's song in his head once more, and the overall weight of the twig felt right in his hand.

“This one.” He held the twig of chestnut out to Marinette. “This is my choice.”

Marinette glanced back at the stone Luka had inspected, then at the cup of water, and finally up at him.

“Of course you're Wood.” Marinette chuckled as if she told herself a joke.

“Sorry?”

“No. Nothing. Sorry. Forget about it.” Marinette picked up the birthday candle and blew it out. She then poured the small sake cup of water into a basin she had tucked under the table. Drying the cup off real quick, she rewrapped it in the cloth, and placed the five elemental items back into their drawer on the bamboo stand. She also returned the pile of polished stones to their drawer, leaving only the candles and quartz in their circle along the edge of the table.

“Do you mind if I vanish in the back for a moment? I think I might have a solution for you.” Marinette rested a hand on Luka's shoulder as she pointed past the second set of dark curtains, and all he wanted to do was sing. Instead, he nodded and waved her on.

Read Chapter 5

@discoveringmiraculouswriters​

[honey-tea-and-lemon-trees]

Hey there!!! Congratulations on the followers!! 💕💕 Can you do 13 and 19 (separate or together your choice) please? Love your writing! ❤❤

Thank you, lovely! 💕 I am apparently incapable of writing short drabbles because both of these got quite long… hope you like!

13. “I could kiss you right now!”

Jughead is pretty sure that sometimes Betty doesn’t realise the full extent of the effect her words have on him.

Not the words like the ones in her college essays that she asks him to proofread for her - although, admittedly, her arrangement of words in that context can create a pretty powerful argument - but more like the unfamiliar (and slightly unwelcome) ripples in his insides when she says things that she hasn’t even thought about.

For instance, when he walks into their (too early) morning seminar armed with his own black coffee he picked up on the way and then places a vanilla latte on the desk in front of Betty, beside the laptop that she’s already typing away on. When she finally looks up from her computer - it’s a fair few minutes because Jughead has managed to pull out his own laptop and actually logged in, which takes time because at this time of morning he certainly does not move with impressive speed - and her eyes land on the coffee cup, she sighs in relief before she grabs it quickly.

“You sir, are a godsend,” she says after a few long sips, giving him this warm and beautiful smile that manages to wake him up more than the coffee has. When she turns back to her keyboard, there’s a strange surge of smugness spreading through him and a smile that no one’s ever seen before 11am.

Then, there’s the time that he’s been dragged to some loud, heinous college party by Archie that becomes a lot less unbearable once he realises Betty’s come with Veronica. She also happens to be wearing a very nice skirt and happens to show off a lot of her very nice legs, so he spends most of the night pretending he’s not staring at them while Archie laughs at him and claps him on the back.

Then when Betty’s thrown back too many cups of lukewarm beer to even stand, let alone keep dancing the way she was, Jughead gently pulls her into the kitchen and props her up on one of the stools by the kitchen island.

“You’re so good to me, Juggie,” she hiccups, a dreamy haze of alcohol coating her voice. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you, huh?” she continues. He hates the casual reminder that she will only ever think of him as a friend, but the rest of the sentence is enough to bring the weird flutters back.

“Think you’ve got that backwards, Betts,” he says with a small smile, handing her a glass of water - which she gasps at the sight of and drinks while she hums gratefully.

Archie literally bounds into the room and slams into Jughead’s side for what was probably meant to be a hug but feels more like a tackle.

“Arch, what the fuck?” Jughead rasps, feeling a little winded because drunk Archie doesn’t know his own strength, Betty’s giggling at him in his peripheral vision

“Me and Ronnie are gonna get burgers, you lovebirds wanna join?” Archie babbles enthusiastically, his arms still wrapped around Jughead’s torso. Jughead resists the urge to punch his friend for the lovebirds comment because he looks like he’s already forgotten he’s said it and Betty has jumped up from the stool and is gushing about burgers.

In the split second that Archie lets go of him and dashes out into the hallway to find his girlfriend, Betty’s latched on, dainty fingers wrapped around his arm and trying to drag him into the hallway.

“Jughead!” she whines, looking up at him with an exaggerated pout and wide, pleading eyes. “I need a burger right now or I’m going to die!”

Jughead chuckles, muttering, “Been there,” under his breath before slinging his arm over her shoulder and guiding her out of the kitchen. He enjoys the way she sighs and nestles further into his side far, far too much.

After walking around the city for far too long and after Jughead has stopped Archie from running out into oncoming traffic, twice, they finally end up at a crappy fast food joint that all four of them would have turned their nose up while sober - but the hunger has gotten the best of them and they head inside.

Jughead orders and pays with Veronica’s credit card, which she threw at him before she proceeded to start making out with Archie in one of the booths that have definitely seen worse than this. He throws their burgers down on the table in front of them, but decides he doesn’t want to risk the consequences of separating them - he’s been on the receiving end of Veronica’s glare more times than he count and he’d rather not fear for his life.

Betty has settled in the next both over, seemingly trying to look anywhere but at the barely PG public display of affection in 10 foot in front of her eyes. Jughead walks to join her, handing her the burger and before debating whether he should sit beside her or opposite her in the both - which ultimately results in him lingering awkwardly at the end of the table, not that anyone notices because Betty’s engrossed in eating his burger and Archie and Veronica are still busy eating each other.

“Oh my god, Jughead,” Betty hums as she swallows another bit of food. “I could kiss you right now,” she says flippantly, but Jughead’s reaction isn’t quite so casual. If the other stuff had caused flutters than this was close to cardiac-arrest.

He just stood there silently, eyes wide and wondering how the hell the was supposed to respond to that but apparently he didn’t have to because Betty’s declaration seemed to have piqued the interests of Archie and Veronica enough for them to tear their lips away from each other. “Do it, Betty!” Archie called, laughing mischievously. “I dare you!”

“Go on, B! Lay one on him!” Veronica chimed in, throwing her head back as she laughed.

Betty pouted at them for a moment but then narrowed her eyes like she might be thinking it over. “Okay!” she chirps, sliding herself out of the booth and skipping the few paces between them until she’s practically nose to nose with Jughead. He can’t find the words to speak because his heart is pounding erratically, bouncing around and crashing into the walls of his rib cage.

She looks more sober than she was, but she’s obviously still a long way away because sober Betty would still be sitting in that booth and would probably be scolding Archie and Veronica for being so childish.

She gives him a devilish smirk as she throws her arms around his neck, leaning her body closer to him where he can’t find the strength to move a muscle.

“You look nervous, Juggie,” she says, her voice is teasing but she’s speaking in a low enough tone that it’s pooling a dark feeling low in the depths of his stomach.

His lips part to tell her he’s not (which is a blatant lie) but in a split second her lips are pressed lightly against his and suddenly he’s forgotten how to speak.

It’s been a few seconds and he knows he should probably pull away; she’s had too much to drink and he’s had a few beers himself - this could also be considered two much, relative to his own typical alcohol consumption. But without thinking his hands are moving to her waist and his lips move against hers in the softest touch.

This turn of events is surprising enough before, miraculously, Betty starts kissing him back, pulling him closer with her hands on his neck. He can’t help but smile against her lips, which earns him a slap on the shoulder from Betty even though she exhales a breath of laughter between kisses.

What they can’t see is Archie and Veronica still watching them from the next both over her jaw is slack from shock and he’s got a smug smile like his work was done.

“When the hell did this all start?” Veronica hisses, jabbing a finger in their direction with wide eyes.

Archie chuckles and slings an arm across the back of the cheap vinyl seat, muttering, “It’s been a long time coming.”

19. “I could kill you right now!”

There’s a loud crash from the living room, the result of several items clattering to the floor and possibly glass shattering. Jughead winces preemptively in anticipation of what he knows what is about to happen next.

“What the fuck was that?” Archie asks, wide eyed and startled as his gaze flickers between Jughead and the doorway.

The terror on his face seems to increase tenfold when the screech pierces through the walls. “JUGHEAD!”

“Run away, save yourself,” Jughead whispers, mostly sarcastic but it’s not actually terrible advice.

Archie looks confused for a second, until the kitchen door swings open to see Betty. She’s wearing a soft, pastel yellow dress and pink rubber gloves that completely juxtapose the murderous look in her eyes.

“Hi, sweetie. You called?” Jughead chirps innocently, immediately wishing that he had an off switch to stop him from saying dumb shit because Betty does not look like she appreciates the joke.

“I could kill you right now,” she says, with absolute sincerity as she points a finger at his face threateningly.

“Everything okay, Betty?” Archie murmurs meekly, apparently only just announcing his presence to Betty, who snaps her head in his direction and looks surprised to see him.

“Hello, Arch! Nice to see you! Can you bear with me a second? I’m actually dealing with something right now,” she rambles in one breath, with a smile that’s obviously forced and looks a little manic when coupled with her tone. Archie just nods and doesn’t say anything - a wise choice.

Betty turns back to Jughead and the smile fades. Somehow he hadn’t noticed her take the few steps across the threshold of the kitchen but she’s very close to his face now.

“How many times have I told you to fix it?” she says in a low, threatening voice that’s more terrifying than when she shouts.

“A lot of times,” Jughead says obediently, a voice looping in his head that says sarcastic responses are not his friends right now

“Then why the hell haven’t you fixed it?!” she yells.

“I was gonna get Archie to fix it!” he says as he waves his hands in Archie’s direction , raising his voice to match hers but with a thousand percent less fury. “I don’t have a tool kit, Betts!” he elaborates, daring to breathe a laugh.

“Fix what?” Archie says innocently but looks like he immediately regrets it when Betty shoots him a look that says he was told to stay out of it.

“The coffee table,” Jughead says anyway, looking away from Betty’s piercing glare - though he can still feel her trying to burn holes into his skin. “The leg keeps collapsing,” he explains to his friend.

“Yeah, okay… I’ve got some tools in the truck downstairs,” Archie says warily, his eyes flicking between Jughead and his girlfriend who’s still staring at him with steam coming out her ears. “Jug, you wanna help me get them?” he says raising his eyebrows quickly and jutting his head towards the door.

“Yeah!” Jughead says, standing up quickly and shimmying himself around Betty. “That alright, Betts? Why don’t you make yourself a cup of tea or something and put your feet up?” he said in as soothing a tone as he could muster before rushing out of the apartment after Archie.

“What the hell was that?!” Archie yells as soon as they had cleared the first set of stairs down towards the lobby, a safe distance away from Betty’s bad mood. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t the Betty I recognise!” he pants, his eyes wide with his arms waving over-dramatically

“Her mom is coming to stay with us in the apartment for a week,” Jughead says, completely deadpan. “So we’re all a little on edge.”

Archie took a moment to absorb that information before giving a quick nod and murmuring, “Okay, I get it.” Then he turns and starts walking down the stairs without another word.

Jughead chuckles and follows closely behind him. “She’ll be fine in a little while but she just needs some time to cool off.”

“Want me to call in reinforcements?” Archie says with a mischievous grin and Jughead laughs at what he assumes is a joke. He learns later that it was not when he opens the apartment door swings open and Veronica Lodge sweeps into his apartment.

“Hello, Archiekins!” she sings, giving him a quick him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hello to you to, Veronica,” Jughead drones under his breath, pushing himself up from the couch where he’s been pretending to follow what Archie was doing to fix the coffee table.

“A pleasure as always, Jughead,” she says in a thicket of sarcasm, but counteracts it with a genuine laugh and steps forward to hug him. This says to him that she thinks they’re friends so it would probably be rude to flinch away like his natural instinct tells him to.

Betty must have heard Veronica from the kitchen where she was trying to let off steam by scrubbing literally inch of the counters, because she is suddenly in the doorway with eyebrows knitted together.

“V? What are you doing here?” she asks, sounding decidedly less pissed off than earlier - much to the relief of the rest of the room.

“I’ve come to sweep you off your feet and take you on a tour of Manhattan’s finest cocktail bars!” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

Betty looks baffled by the suggestion and almost rolls her eyes before she catches herself and puts on a polite smile instead. “Sorry, maybe not this time… I’ve got so much to do. I’ve still gotta finish the kitchen, then do the bathroom, and a load of laundry and-”

“The boys are gonna do it for you,” Veronica shrugs as she interjects, surprising both Archie and Jughead to look up at her from where they’d turned their attention back to the table. “This was their suggestion,” - Jughead makes a face because it most certainly was not his - “they just want you to relax a little. Right?” She turns her back to Betty so she can make a face at the two of them.

Archie is apparently familiar with this face because he pipes up immediately, playing along. “Of course! You just seem really stressed and we thought you could do with some fun,” he says coolly, and as it turns out he’s a fairly convincing liar. Jughead keeps his mouth shut, because he is not so he just nods.

Betty looks torn and nibbles the corner of her lip before she sighs and apparently gives in, because she’s nodding her head.

Veronica squeals in her victory and rushes over to her. “Okay, go get yourself in something sexy and let’s go day-drinking!” she yells enthusiastically, even stirring a small giggle in Betty - which proves that Veronica is magic.

“Remember that she has a boyfriend, Ronnie. As do you,” Archie chuckles as he uses something that Jughead is pretty sure is a screwdriver, but wouldn’t place any bets on.

“Please, you know that Betty barely even men who aren’t Jughead.” Archie narrows his eyes at the fact that there was no similar statement about herself. She smiles when she notices and adds in a sickly sweet voice, “And I’m too in love with my Archiekins.” Judging by the blush on his cheeks, this seems to satisfy him.

“I’ll return her to you in the early morning, Jughead,” Veronica says, winking at him. “Don’t wait up,” she chuckles as she exits the living room and pulls the door closed behind her.

–

When Jughead stirs, it’s definitely dark outside but he’s not sure what time it is. He smiles when he sees Betty slipping between the covers beside him. She shuffles closer and wraps her arm around his torso, nuzzling her head into his chest with a satisfied hum. He can already smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Sorry I was a monster,” she mutters sulkily into his t-shirt, there’s a drawl to her vice that is distinctly drunk Betty.

“You weren’t a monster,” Jughead chuckles, his voice still thick with sleep. He places a kiss on top of her head before falling back into the pillows.

“Veronica said I was,” she mumbles bitterly, snuggling closer to him again.

“Yeah, well… you’re my monster,” Jughead murmurs sleepily and he thinks he hears Betty laugh quietly.

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Bones Made For Chaos

Hey there honey bee’s! So here’s part 5 of the Retrograde Spell series. Part 1 can be found here. All of my other Ikesen works are chilling on the Master List. Idk fam...I got so blocked and it took a bit but I hope you enjoy this! Pacing is hard....anyways...thanks for stopping by! Lots of love <3 

Admin T~

Per usual I’m sticking it under the cut because I just like the sound of my keyboard clicking...unless you’re on mobile...then your dash is just going to be an explosion of text. Tumblr and I are still arguing lol anyways...message me :) ask my questions, the box is open!

[YN]

“Well aren’t you just a peach?” You mumbled groggily.

The situation had to be bad if Yuuto had come down to help. You weren’t exactly sure how you had gotten...where ever it was you were...but the last thing you remember was Mitsunari dropping his book when you walked into your room, so it stood to reason he had something to do with it. Yuuto looked ready to mouth off and not having the energy to fight back you stopped him short by putting your free hand on his cheek.

“Thank you.” his eyes went wide and you could help but laugh “What, weren’t expecting that?”

“Not exactly…” he was blushing, poor kid was embarrassed. Looking over at the IV in your arm you followed the line. It was extra obvious to you that you were getting a transfusion even if everyone else in the room seemed very confused.

“Is it yours or Kanna’s” you asked pointing at the bag in Mitsunari’s hand. Concern etched on everyone’s faces as they caught the implications of your question.

“Mine” he puffed his cheeks out “and I don’t want to hear any of your corny transfusion jokes…just be quiet for once.”

“What? You are totally missing out!” he glared “Fine...but we may need to explain this a bit.” motioning with you eyes to the Oda men in the room. “Mind if I sit up?”

“If you feel up for it. The patches should have kicked in by now and I’m here so you should have a bit of extra strength.”

You felt your bones creak as you shifted on the floor, sitting carefully so you didn’t disturb the IV, you crossed your legs and looked around the room.

“So who wants to go first?”

“Deja-vu” Hideyoshi mumbled under his breath

“Should I just start asking questions than to minimize dallying and to ease your uncomfortableness Hideyoshi?” Mitsubishi chimed in with a smirk.

“Can we not do this now…(YN) is that blood?” Ieyasu inquired

“Yup, Yuuto’s blood if you’re looking for me to get specific.”

Most of them looked concerned, sharing looks with one another, some faces indicating more intrigue than others.

“…why are you getting his blood?” Ieyasu continued.

“It’s called a transfusion. We collect blood from willing donors, in this case Yuuto, to be used in emergency situations. I assume I lost a large quantity of blood, and because Yuuto and I have the same blood type, he was able to give me his to make up for it.”

“Blood type?”

“There are eight different types of blood. And it can get very confusing to explain, so for simplicity's sake all you need to know is that Yuuto and I have the same blood type, airgo we can freely give to each other without our bodies rejecting the donation. If you’re really curious I can test you guys later and let you know the results, but that pounding outside is getting concerning, so i’m going to suggest we move on.”

“That was my next question. That can’t possibly be thunder.” Mitsuhide put his cool gaze on Yuuto.

“Correct, like I stated earlier, I am charged with protecting the clan...that includes this idot. I use our technology to provide medical attention and in this case to also set up barriers.”

“Ohhh so like a fancy impenetrable fort?” Masamune plopped down next to me as he questioned my brother, grabbing my arm gently and checking out the IV.

“Correct.” Yuuto turned his attention to me. “It would appear it’s finished, how are you feeling.”

“Like shit...but that’s a step up from death right?”

“You know...sometimes I’m sorry I ask.” he let out an exasperated sigh “Do you think you’ll be able to fight eight of them off.”

“Maybe? Honestly it would be better if Kanna were here, though everything’s easier when I’m functioning at my highest capacity, but we won't know until we try.” 

You shrugged nonchalantly, but it was the truth. You didn’t feel awesome, and while Yuuto being there gave you just a bit of an energy boost, it was nothing compared to the surge you felt when Kanna was around. You made your way to your feet after the needle was removed and your arm was bandaged appropriately. A bit unsteady at first but with some help from Mitsunari and Masamune you were as good as you could be after losing about what you assumed was twenty percent of your blood volume.

“Your gear is new...I gave Kanna hers a bit ago, so you’re behind, but it’s lighter and thinner. The chemistry behind the armor makes the material stronger while still maintaining flexibility to improve your mobility. Everything is activated the same way so you shouldn’t have any trouble adjusting. I also got to pick the new pattern and color scheme...I still had to use ‘depths of space black’.” he paused to roll his eyes. “but yours has more hints of orange...I think it suits you”

Yuuto stood in front of you, looking you over he sighed deeply and drew his short sword, the pale glow warm and familiar in front of you. He couldn’t possibly…

“This is Yuuto Karasu, Karasu Clan Heir. I request the Karasu Commander, (YN) Karasu, be given full autonomy of her power until my departure.”

You eyes went wide, why was he removing the stop-checks placed on your sword? There’s no way everyone was going to agree to this...it would just get him in trouble.

“Yuuto…” you hissed through closed teeth.

“This is Kanna Karasu, Karasu Strategist, I consent to full autonomy.”

“This is Yui Karasu, Reserve Strategist, I consent to full autonomy.”

“This is Aoi Karasu, Reserve Commander, I consent to full autonomy.”

“This is Haruto Karasu, Standing Clan Head, I consent and accept the motion. Full autonomy is to be granted to (YN) Karasu until Yuuto Karasu, Clan Heir returns to the citadel.”

…

[Mitsunari]

I was still trying to wrap my mind around everything that was going on. (YN) had passed out, she had been barely warm in my arms. Ieyasu had done everything he could to save her, but we still weren’t in the clear. In a stroke of luck and in dramatic fashion her brother had arrived in a lightning bolt? There was a giant bubble protecting Ieyasu’s manor. (YN) had been given special bandages and her brothers blood. Not only was she now conscious she was standing and preparing for battle and every fiber of my being was screaming out, fighting the urge to grab her and run out of there.

Why would she go right back out there and fight...even Masamune and Hideyoshi had enough sense to take it a little easy after sustaining such a life threatening injury. Ieyasu had questioned Yuuto and (YN) but every answer just confused me more. She would explain it to us later but the knot in my stomach just kept growing.

She had even admitted she felt terrible but she was still going out there to fight. Why couldn’t we do something to help? I was so frustrated and confused I just wanted to scream, who cared if she had new armor? That hadn’t protected her before, how would it be different now. I wanted to trust her but the fear I felt was consuming my thoughts.

Yuuto drew his short sword and garnered everyone's attention, even (YN) was looking at him with surprise. Was he going to fight with her? No he had just said he doesn’t participate in battles. Is he offering her his short sword?

“This is Yuuto Karasu, Karasu Clan Heir. I request the Karasu Commander, (YN) Karasu, be given full autonomy of her power until my departure.”

Any bit of color (YN) had regained since getting treatment from her brother drained as he spoke. In an angry whisper she said his name through clenched teeth. “Yuuto…”

Then there was nothing but the pounding on the barrier and the falling rain. As the seconds passed by (YN)’s eyes grew round with shock until a stern look crossed her face. Something must have happened over their communication system. Before anyone could ask what was going on (YN) bowed in apology to Ieyasu and drove her sword into the tatami in the dring pool of her blood where she had been laying.

Her sword glowed a bright hot white, nothing like the sweet pale blue I had seen the night before. As it grew in intensity the air around her seemed to vibrate, when she finally became visible again a mischievous look and a wild smile had blossomed.

“Stop...you look creepy as hell…” Yuuto deadpanned

She laughed and cut through the tension that had been building in the room. Her eyes were still sharp but the rest of her features had softened to a more recognizable demeanor.

“Never once thought I’d find myself in a situation that warranted a full release of this things spiritual power.” She twisted the sword around menacingly. “But I appreciate the opportunity. I won't let you down.”

Heading for the door with a wink and a flourish, she turned back to us.

“You guys can come watch on the balcony...it won't take long and there’s no way any of them will be able to get past me now.” smirking she sauntered outside of the protection of her brother’s barrier.

Myself and the rest of the group rushed outside to follow her, stopping just shy of the railing on the veranda. Three soldiers jumped down from the roof only to be eliminated immediately. I hadn’t even seen her move.

“Yuuto...this is great and all...but not even remotely close to what I’d call a challenge.” She called out as a fourth one burst into smoke the second she parried.

“Well that’s good but you may want to call for backup. Dad just let me know you’ve got about fifty coming your way.”

There was a pause, then raucous laughter, as she doubled over in the grass. Defending herself from incoming attacks along the way.

“Well shit...guess I shouldn’t have asked for a challenge. Mom did always tell me to be careful what I wished for.”

“Would you shut up and call them here already?”

“This is the Karasu’s Talons. I am requesting backup from the officers of the first regiment. We have an estimated fifty incoming QA soldiers”

There was another pause and then the sky opened up. Lightning struck down on top of her and a bright light expanded outward all the way to the barrier. As it dissipated six figures could be made out besider her. They looked menacing, but not in the same way her assailants had appeared. How were six extra people going to help her? If she needed six extra swords why couldn’t it be us? I felt my anxiety bubbling, ready to burst when Yuuto made his way next to me.

“I can tell she means something more to you, I appreciate you getting her help earlier and I wanted to let you know you have nothing to worry about.”

My brow furrowed but I was unable to ask questions as he continued, turning my attention back to her battle as he spoke.

“I don’t understand it entirely, but something about the blessed weapons we have lets us fight these things. Our abilities are...restricted...to force us to work as a team, however, that can cause problems in situations like this. Kanna is our strategist, her brain is alway running looking for a way out, while she is still able to plan it doesn’t come as quickly and she’s at greater risk of injury than when she’s with (YN), our commander. Who, while she doesn’t plan out the strikes, she leads and trains our army. Every officer summoned is one of her highly trained fighters from the first division.” 

He turned his gaze back to me, dark eyes shining.

“(YN) is undefeated in the clan, save her teacher who now refuses all chances at a rematch. She is our most reliable fighter. Without her sister she still fights with considerable strength...but nowhere near what she is capable of. While I don’t have the same type of blade it still holds power in the group. So while it wouldn’t make a difference to her fighting ability my being here should give her a little more energy, than if she was just by herself.”

Pausing for breath, and I assume to make sure I was still following he looked my way before going on.

“I assume something happened in the past to have these power checks put into place, though I’m not quite sure what. Regardless the previous crow and talons, the current head, the current crow and talons and the heir, are all able to cast votes to give someone ‘autonomy’ or full reign of the powers for a limited period of time in a pinch.” He pointed back toward his sister.

“Earlier they consented in granting her full power. She is exceptionally lethal and while she doesn’t need to call on her army to win this battle, she needed to if she didn’t want to pass out when she relinquished control.”

As I looked back out into the garden I found myself memorizing their fighting patterns. The formations were perfect, designed to be effective and deadly. He had called her ‘The Talons’, and after seeing her fight I can understand why. When her blade came down into her target she reminded me of Kohaku, Nobunaga’s hawk, ripping through prey. Sharp and merciless yet graceful and beautiful. It was the perfect way to describe her. The more I watched the more enthralled I became. Maybe we could use something similar in our own battles. She was magnificent. Remembering her brother said her sister was her strategist...I wondered if I could offer assistance in Kanna’s absence. It felt better than having (YN) simply report to me, I wanted to be useful to her. I needed to be useful to her.

He must have thought I looked pensive because he offered words meant to comfort, and while I was no longer concerned about this battle they settled somewhere deep in my soul.

“But she lives for battles like this...the woman is made of something else entirely. Our Dad once said it had to be chaos and lightning. It’s in her bones and blood.”

I continued to watch in awe, gathering useful information, compiling strategies for her. There was no denying she was beautiful and deadly, a combination I had never seen mix so well. A sword style all warlords hoped and strived for, a precarious balance and only Kenshin Uesugi came close to achieving.

Before I knew it the battle had ended and Yuuto crossed the garden space, now littered with bits and pieces of armor that had failed to evaporate with their assailant. He handed bandages to (YN), who was having a lively conversation with her vassals, before bowing to us and disappearing in a blinding flash of light with the officers that had come to assist.

Sheathing her blade she slowly made her way back to the balcony. She looked tired but there was still a fire in her eyes. Most were silent, content just watching, but Mitsuhide, forever the tease, offered a remark as bait. Probably to check her mood and general consciousness since she did look a little wobbly now.

“I wasn’t aware our young princess had that much power. Who knew she could take out fifty men with just six soldiers of her own.”

Then she smiled the same mischievous grin from before, and with a sickly sweet voice, what she said next sent a chill down my spine.

“There’s a reason a group of crows is called a murder.”

…

[YN]

The energy was racing in and around you. It was everything you remembered and more. It didn’t matter how creepy your brother though your smile was you felt absolutely amazing. Turning your blade in your hand, getting used to the feeling of it, the lightning resonating in your bones. Everything felt lighter, you were sure you could jump from the garden to the roof if you wanted but that was a test for another day.

The second you stepped off the veranda, three jumped at you from the roof. You spun around so fast you made yourself dizzy, slicing clean through each one in the process. You felt more than amazing. You were buzzing with life and the new found chaos strengthening your bones, stemming from the warm glow coming off your sword. Another came at you, swinging your blade to parry, cut blowing right through the soldiers sword driving deep into its chest. A gust of wind came off your swing as the ogre disappeared into twisting gray fog, as you felt your hair whip around your face.

You felt strong, forgotten power flowing through you, it was almost a shame they weren’t more of a challenge. Before disposing of that last grunt you had managed to complain to your brother, who let you know a problem had arisen.

“Well shit...guess I shouldn’t have asked for a challenge. Mom did always tell me to be careful what I wished for.”

You knew who you wanted when you called for the officers of the first regiment, and you knew they had to be chomping at the bit to get some action by now. Sure enough, as they descended in a burst of lightening your three best swordsmen, two archers, and naginata wielder stood in formation three poised for attack.

Hisame and Mari, your two archers took to the trees for better vantage points to provide appropriate cover while simultaneously waiting for their perfect shot.

Tsubaki and Shiro, wielded tachi and stood on the outside of our formation, since their blades were longer they had a bit more reach, which was helpful for providing wide coverage. They were backed up by Hinata who took arms with his Naginata.

Mizuko was your top and final general to appear, offering a katana she filled in for Kanna as you paired off for close combat situations.

Falling into line with your comrades the rest of the battle felt like a well practiced dance. Smooth and easy, the QA soldiers offering little resistance. With everyone’s help fifty soldiers had felt like five.

“Nice work everyone, we cleaned them up nicely!”

“Anytime Captain! Do see to it that you take better care of yourself thought. You gave everyone a bit of a fright last night when you stopped responding.” Hisame leveled with you.

“I got it. I’ll be as careful as I can be.” you replied

“That’s not very promising...at least knowing you.” Shiro laughed lifting an eyebrow as he clapped a hand over your shoulder.

You brother had made his way across the garden and was preparing to take everyone back with him. Stopping just shy of you he gathered your comrades around him.

“Be safe...Please.” He smiled with one final plea before jumping back home.

As the light from the portal disappeared so did your high. Gods is that what you felt like before he arrived? No, it had to have been worse before you were given the blood. Everything ached and you wanted nothing more than to soak in a warm bath, drink some tea, and sleep on a heating pad for the next 48 hours until Kanna arrived.

You had finally reached the veranda everyone had gathered on. You noticed Masamune and Nobunaga’s eyes were shining with pride. Hideyoshi and Ieyasu were wearing the most sour expressions you’d ever seen, probably because of all the trouble you had caused tonight. You would have to do something to make it up to them. Mitsunari looked concerned and like he wanted to say something though it never made it out. Mitsuhide had been looking at you with the most infuriating, shit-eating grin, you had ever seen.

Though his snide remark was laced with questions, presumably to gauge how you were feeling, even if it was the only way he knew how, you still didn't want to drag this out. You were tired. Thinking of the best way to stop the conversation quickly you decided a mild scare tactic should do the trick.

“There’s a reason a group of crows is called a murder.” You wished you had a camera because the looks on their faces were priceless. If you didn’t feel like absolute garbage maybe you would have laughed.

Instead you walked past everyone and bowed before Nobunaga. “When would you like my report?”

“I do not need one.” you looked up at him confused “Mitsunari informed me over the events leading to our being here this evening and I witness the rest. It would be redundant to make you report it again. You are dismissed for the night.”

With that everyone left, what you had since figured out was Ieyasu’s manor. The walk back was slow and painful but Mitsunari stayed close to make sure you got back alright offering his arm whenever you started to wobble. By the time you finally arrived to your room faint light could be seen peeking out over the horizon. You opened the door with great effort and trudged into you room. By now the candles had all melted down and pools of wax were gathered in their stead. Guess you’d clean that up in the morning. The tea set from earlier remained untouched, and the book Mitsunari had been reading remained open on the floor where it had been dropped.

“It’s not a long walk back but I appreciate you seeing me home. I should let you go though since you have to make for Hideyoshi’s manor.”

As you looked up you met searing amethyst eyes, a look that was all consuming, there was a tenderness there you recognized, even though you couldn’t deny he looked upset. When you didn’t back away he closed the gap between you shutting the door behind him.

“If you would allow it, I would like to stay here.”

The hand that had been on your cheek was now cradling your head, long elegant fingers working your scalp gently, undoing your hair that had been tied tight in a ponytail. His free arm wrapped around your shoulder closing you in a comforting embrace. Fighting the urge to fall completely into his arms you gave a half-hearted response.

“I promise I’ll send someone to get you if I need help. I would hate to make you take care of me. You are by no means obligated to do anything else tonight”

You wanted nothing more than to accept his offer and bury yourself in his gentle and sure arms. They were currently offering you every bit of warmth you had craved the entire walk back from Ieyasu’s, but it wasn’t fair to make him look after you just because you were placed under him. Even if literally being under him was separately enticing...but that was a whole other issue for a different day.

“It is not out of obligation I request to stay.” He carefully pulled your head to his chest, resting his cheek on you. His even breaths tickling your ear were in direct contrast with the now rapid beating of his heart.

You felt the blood run all the way to your ears. He had always been incredibly sweet to you. Constantly sticking his neck out for you, making sure you had everything you needed, entertaining conversation, and now he had probably saved your life. All of this and he never really asked for anything in return. You had never stopped to think about why you had such unshakable faith in Mitsunari, you trusted him with your life the same why you trusted your siblings but that’s not to say you saw him as a brother. You were slowly realizing now how much you were fighting not just for your mission, but to keep him and the people he holds dear safe; Love. That feeling finally settled in and you didn’t know how to respond.

“Please…” his soft whisper broke through your rapidly derailing train of thought “don’t make me leave tonight.”

And you couldn’t all you could do was hum and nod. Wrapping him in an embrace of your own.

…

[Mitsunari]

The longer we walked the more exhausted she looked. She had refused to let anyone carry her at least four times now, but would hold onto my arm when she was unsteady, and now we had finally made it to her door.

“It’s not a long walk back but I appreciate you seeing me home. I should let you go though since you have to make for Hideyoshi’s manor.”

Even though I understood it to be consideration for myself, no matter how steady she had appeared, I couldn’t find it within my power to leave. Not that I wanted her to entertain me, she needed rest and I wanted no part in keeping her awake any longer...I just didn’t want to leave. She turned to me and I was happy to see her lovely amber eyes were still burning, though the rest of her features were soft, they were so warm it felt like something inside of me might melt. She was so enchanting I hadn’t even realized I was reaching for her until I had her hair undone, falling around her, the beautiful silk strands resting against my hand. (YN) spoke up and brought me out of my trance and I realized she thought I had stayed with her out of a sense of duty.

“It is not out of obligation I request to stay.” I pulled her in close to me, careful not to hold her too tight. The last thing I wanted was to aggravate her wounds. She didn’t stop me, instead (YN) leaned into my embrace as her body seemed to warm with mine. She seemed to be thinking, as her arms hovered in the air, unsure of what to do. There was a long painful silence, taking my chance I petitioned again hoping I wouldn’t be pushed away.

“Please, don’t make me leave tonight.”

I heard her suck in a breath through her teeth and no longer showing any hesitation she hummed languidly and returned my embrace, locking me in her arms, nodding in silent approval.

I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

For the second day in a row, I woke up in a panic concerned by the absence of her warmth beside me. How does she sneak out of here so easily? This time I shot up out of her futon but she wasn’t sitting at her desk and her soft muttering alluded me. Tying my disheveled robes to be slightly more presentable I dashed for the door only to almost crash into (YN). Catching the tray she had been holding she winced but giggled as she looked me over.

“Nice hair. Up for some tea? I snuck into the kitchen.” she said with a mischievous smile

She was dressed the same as she had been yesterday morning. Soft gray hakama and a lace wrap to cover her chest. The only differences were that she wore my haori and her abdomen was wrapped diligently with fresh bandages. I was stuck on my haori hanging off her shoulders awkwardly, something about it and the goofy smile she had was enough to make my heart flutter.

“How is your stomach.” Again without thinking my fingers had found there way to the new wrap tracing where she had been cut. This was becoming a bad habit, but she didn’t pull away from me.

“It’s better thanks, I wasn’t able to tie an Obi...hurt to much. I borrowed your haori, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Use it as long as you like.” And then she smiled and it was so bright it could have outshone every star in the sky last night.

Last night had been pandemonium but in the center of it was her. Something steady and bright in the buzz of it all. There was something wonderful about the normalcy of the situation, I had grown to enjoy the tea and snacks she brought me while I was reading, but this moment felt special, almost separated from the rest of reality.

“Did you sleep alright? I hope I didn’t make your arm numb laying on it.” She giggled again setting the tray of food and tea down. Her comment sparked my memory from the night before, her curled up in front of me, soft black tresses splayed underneath her head and across the arm she was laying on. With practiced motions she sat across me and prepared the tea passing out bowls and chopsticks so we could eat while it was steeping.

“Mitsunari. You okay over there? I guess I should have asked if you wanted food. I’m sorry if this was presumptuous of me.”

“Ah I’m sorry I was just a bit distracted. Thank you for the food.”

Breakfast tasted better than usual and the casual conversation eased the storm that had settle in my heart. The routine almost made me forget exactly what she was here to do. Almost. Our peace was broken with a bashful knock on the door, protectiveness flared in my chest, she was very exposed. I stood and cracked the door placing myself between her and the maids line of site but that didn’t stop her. She place a hand on the small of my back heat blooming where she touched as she leaned around me poking her head out the door.

“Hey ladies, what can I do you for?”

“We brought by the ingredients you asked for.”

Her face lit up “You guys are the best!”

“Anything for your Lady (YN).”

…

[YN]

Breakfast was pleasant and the easy conversation helped fend off the blush threatening to consume your features. Not only had you woken up tucked perfectly into Mitsunari, when you came back to your room he was standing in your door, hair a beautiful silver mess, robes hanging half off, broad shoulders exposed. You caught the way his eyes raked over you, taking you in, an emotion you couldn’t quiet place and a deep hyacinth flashed in his eyes before he masked it and they fell into the familiar amethyst you were accustomed to.

You suppress the urge to reach out and run your fingers through his feathered locks, down over his cheeks across his beauty mark and down his broad shoulders by giggling awkwardly and trying to start a conversation. Before you could move he reached out gently tracing over the fresh bandage where the sword had cut you last night.

“His is your stomach?”

It’s better thanks, I wasn’t able to tie an Obi.” You paused remembering the discomfort you had experienced trying to dress yourself in a traditional kimono this morning to get food. “hurt to much. I borrowed your haori, I hope you don’t mind.”

He smiled gently and it made you heart race, you could feel color creeping up your cheeks but you were happy he was letting you use his haori. It smelled just like him and though it was definitely a bit big the extra fabric wrapped you up filling you with the same sense of security he always brought with him.

You were setting out the dishes when you realized he hadn’t really responded to any question other than the one regarding his haori. Maybe you should have asked if he was hungry before grabbing the tea and breakfast.

“Mitsunari. You okay over there? I guess I should have asked if you wanted food. I’m sorry if this was presumptuous of me.”

That seemed to get his attention, just as you had finally gotten him out of his head and he seemed less on edge, there was a soft knock on the door. Before you could get up Mitsunari ran over placing himself between whoever was visiting and yourself. That’s when you realized you were minimally clothed and sauntering around the room in his haori while he was standing at the door with half his sleeping robe hanging off. He was trying to protect your dignity even though it was way more clothes than you wore on a normal off day in the citadel, but if a retainer saw this scene people would talk...not that you minded something like that floating around about you and Mitsunari, you couldn’t deny that you had definitely dreamed about any rumor this scene would cause as is.

You heard a gasp and faint giggling and knew it was your fan club...nope nope nope, not ok with them seeing hot and sleepy Mitsunari. Jumping up you placed a hand on the small of his back possessively, poking your head out next to him. As it turns out they had found the honey and sugar you asked for earlier and wanted to bring it to you.

You started mixing it into the tea then began pouring for the two of you to enjoy. When you placed his cup down in front of him he looked puzzled.

“You look confused. Anything I can help you with?”

“The other night at our war counsel Mitsuhide brought up that the maids had been following you around and fawning. He asked me why, and at the time I hadn’t noticed so I couldn’t even imagine an answer...but after seeming that, I’m quite curious myself.”

You laughed a good natured, full belly laugh. While it hurt just a touch more than normal it felt so so good.

“Do you remember the night we wrapped my arm?”

“Yes.” He blushed

“I was out shopping when I saw a group of them get attacked by the QA. They’ve been like that ever since.”

“I do remember six of them sopping wet as I passed them in the hall. It’s how I knew to look in your room.”

“Word travels fast around here if you’re wondering why all the female staff follow me around now.”

There wasn’t even a knock before your door slid open hitting the end of the track with a thunk.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

…

[Mitsunari]

The last people I wanted to see at her door were now openly staring at this misunderstanding. Not that I minded if they thought she was with me...it would keep at least three of them from trying something. Mitsuhide opened his mouth “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”but it was (YN)’s response that made me choke on my tea.

“Breakfast...why, what’s it look like?”

They just stared back at her, processing.

“Are you just going to stand there or was there something you needed?”

Nobunaga chuckled before Masamune answered her.

“Neither of you showed up for the morning war counsel and when Hideyoshi informed us Mitsunari hadn’t returned last night we thought something might have been wrong with you.”

“That’s my bad, he looked like he needed sleep so I didn’t want to wake him.”

“That still doesn’t explain what’s going on right now.” Hideyoshi responded, worry showing on his face.

“Uh...breakfast. He brought me home, we fell asleep, I woke up, got breakfast, he woke up. So now...we’re eating breakfast. Didn’t think you wanted me walking around the castle scantily clad so I just stayed here. And seriously...just come in, you don’t need to creep outside the door like that.”

Ieyasu pinched the bridge of his nose “That’s not what we meant...we understand what this is...I believe the question was aimed more at why you’re wearing Mitsunari’s haori…?”

And then the conversation descended into dissaray and nothing I could think of to say would have been enough to stop it. (YN) looked amused, clearly messing with the group. Mitsuhide and Nobunaga were the only ones able to resist the verbal bait.

“Should I not be?”

“I mean it’s not that you shouldn’t be, just that it may give the wrong impression.” Masamune stated and I bristled, sipping my tea to keep calm.

“And what would that impression be?”

“That you’re sleeping with Mitsunari.” Hideyoshi interjected

“But I did sleep with Mitsunari. He spent the night here.”

“That’s not what we mean lass.” Masamune sighed

“Then what did you mean?” she looked innocent enough but I could tell she was toying with them. Drink your tea and don’t make eye contact Mitsunari...don’t make eye contact.

“Nope, never mind. Stop.” Ieyasu chimed in, panicked

“Stop what?” She looked around eyes wide.

“How about you just give Mitsunari back his haori, that should clear up any misunderstandings.” Hideyoshi pleaded

“There isn’t really anything to misunderstand but if you insist.” and with that she stood next to me. Oh no. Before I could protest, she undid the haori from her waist as we made eye contact, a devilish smiled played on her lips then she winked. She knew what she was doing. Dropping the clothing in my lap the room went silent.

I knew from the looks on their faces they had full view of the artwork above her wrap, the beautiful tattoo that covered her alabaster skin mingling with scars from previous battles.

Hideyoshi and Ieyasu sputtered while Nobunaga and Mitsuhide remained silent.

“Shit lass.” Masamune sucked in through closed teeth. The only one to say anything.

“Don’t stare.” She smiled knowingly “it’s rude you know.”

She was being a good sport but I could tell all the prying eyes were starting to get to her. When nobody said anything I stood placing my haori back on her shoulders, covering a majority of her exposed skin, while shooting daggers at those in the doorway. When I did I brushed my fingers along the crook of her neck along her shoulders. Her skin was warmer than it had been last night, the memory of her collapsing into my arms fresh in my memory. I needed them to leave.

“She is unable to wear an Obi with her injury. Unless you don’t mind her walking around like this or in her armor today she will not be joining the war counsel.”

Nobunaga looked amused but nodded, a knowing smirk playing on his face.

“I agree. Please make sure she has everything she needs Mitsunari. Report any changes to me.”

“As you wish milord!”

After they left she dropped down in front of me, twisting a few flyaway strands into place.

“Can we talk? I think it’s time to DTR.”

Tagging @little-mini-me-world read away!

[itsfinancethings]

Patients lie motionless in a hospital ICU ward, as doctors hurry around their beds. The patients’ faces are concealed by ventilators; the doctors’ by masks. The death rate is rising so quickly that doctors can no longer keep count. “The beds don’t even have time to cool before they are taken up by other patients,” says ICU nurse Cristina Pilati. Yet over the sound of stretchers rolling and monitors beeping, Pilati starts singing the lyrics of ‘Angel’ as she cares for a teenage boy in the ICU. ‘Spend all your time waiting, for that second chance,’ she sings. ‘For a break that would make it okay.’

This scene is one of many intimate moments in Inside Italy’s COVID War, a PBS’ FRONTLINE documentary premiering Tuesday that takes us inside a hard-hit hospital in Cremona, a city in northern Italy. Directed by Emmy and BAFTA award-winning filmmaker Sasha Joelle Achilli, who was born and raised in Milan, the film offers one of the first in-depth looks at a hospital battling coronavirus when the crisis hit. Achilli spent several months in West Africa documenting the 2014-2015 Ebola outbreak, but filming the coronavirus pandemic in her native country, where her family still lives, presented new difficulties. “Emotionally, it was really challenging. It feels so much more personal,” she says. “But I feel really privileged that I was able to do that and get more of an understanding of this virus. When you understand something, you are less afraid of it.”

Achilli’s film follows emergency room doctor Francesca Mangiatordi as she navigates COVID-19, caring for her staff, her patients, and her family. Achilli, who now lives in London but traveled to Italy for filming, began shooting in Cremona on March 18, just one day before Italy’s death toll surpassed that of China, becoming the hardest hit country by COVID-19 at the time. More than 32,000 people have died from COVID-19 since the start of the country’s outbreak.

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Italy’s health care system, the first to be hit hard in Europe, was quickly overwhelmed by the surge in cases. In the opening scenes of the documentary, doctors debate whether to give their remaining ventilator to a young or old person. Later in the film, doctors themselves fall ill, remaining quarantined in their homes as case numbers continue to rise throughout the country. The documentary also sheds light on the sacrifices frontline workers are making and the risks they are taking: Mangiatordi’s husband was at higher risk of catching the virus but she stayed working on the front line.

Perhaps what is most powerful yet unsettling about the documentary is that it disrupts one of the prominent narratives surrounding COVID-19: that the young and healthy won’t be severely affected. While young people are less likely to die of COVID-19, they are still susceptible to severe infection of the virus. The documentary follows an 18-year-old boy and a 30-year-old mother of three girls as they fight for their lives. “The next one that tells me it only affects the elderly, I’ll spit in their eye,” Mangiatordi says after a 42 year-old man died of COVID-19.

Achilli was inspired to make the documentary after coming across a photograph Mangiatordi took of an exhausted nurse, Elena Pagliarini, collapsed on her keyboard in early March. Within hours of seeing the photograph, the two women spoke on the phone. Days later, Achilli was filming at the hospital.

Francesca Mangiatordi An exhausted medical worker lays on keyboard. The photograph, taken by Francesca Mangiatordi, inspired Sasha Joelle Achilli to make the documentary Inside Italy’s COVID War.

Achilli spoke with TIME about the making of the film. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Your documentary is the most in-depth and intimate picture of a hospital battling COVID-19 we have so far. What do you hope people take away from it?

My goal has changed from when I first went to Italy. When I first went out, the borders in Europe were closing but the crisis hadn’t erupted yet. Back then, the message was “Italy is 3 weeks ahead of you.” But now we’re all in it. What I want people to get out of this documentary is an understanding of the virus. I want to squash all the conspiracy theories and for people to understand the emotional and psychological impact it has had on health care workers and those severely affected. I want people to realize that while there is no need to panic, there is a severity to this and we need to take the measures seriously. Italy is now coming out of it, hopefully. The cases have gone down massively. And it’s because of the lockdown and the measures that were taken that this is possible. That’s what I hope people get out of it. Especially American audiences, given the protests that are taking place. This is very real.

Because Italy was the first Western country to face a COVID-19 outbreak, many other nations in the West have looked at Italy to predict what the futures of their countries might look like. As someone who watched the outbreak unfold, what do you think the world can learn from Italy’s experience?

The world needed to look at Italy at the beginning. Now, the world is currently living it. Rather than critiquing the Italian draconian measures or the Italian culture of siesta, they should have taken them seriously and not thrown around the idea of herd immunity. If there is a country forcing people to stay home in this way, it means it’s serious. But until you see that every family has been affected by the virus or lost someone to it, until your morgues are completely full and coffins cannot be buried in time—until you see that, people’s behavior will not change.

These kinds of outbreaks are going to keep happening. We need to stop thinking of places as being far away. We are all so connected and way more connected than we like to believe. So when this started to happen in Italy, Europe should have started locking down before it got out of control. The U.S. should have taken it seriously. No one is immune to it.

What are the underreported stories of this crisis?

There was a point where 13% of cases in March in Italy were healthcare workers. Of course healthcare workers did have more access to tests so more of them were getting tested. But the numbers were still high.

I remember having this debate with Francesca and her husband: why did so many of the staff get sick? Part of it is a lack of disinfectant. The ER was never disinfected until three or four weeks into the outbreak. There was no methodology put in place. The hospital isn’t a structure that facilitates infectious disease triage. It’s hard to criticize an entity or a body or blame someone for all these cases in healthcare workers but we need to have structures that can handle highly infectious diseases.

As an Italian journalist who has reported on crises in Africa and the Middle East, what was it like reporting on the front lines of your own country?

Emotionally, it was really challenging. A lot of the stories I’ve done are really, really sad situations that do affect me emotionally. But there is something different about it when you’re covering it in your own country. It feels so much more personal. You know the culture, the language, the shared way of communicating without needing to speak. It just felt so much more personal and at the beginning, so emotionally exhausting in a way that I had not experienced in my career despite working on emotionally trying stories.

I think for me, the worst part was when I landed in Rome and I hadn’t been home since Christmas. I flew in and it was completely empty. It felt like something out of an apocalypse film, where cities are abandoned and people have left. I remember getting to the hotel. I called my boyfriend and just burst into tears because the lockdown hadn’t happened in London yet. Even though I had heard the stories through my family, seeing it and seeing your country—especially Italy which is so lively, where people hug and kiss all the time—to see it so completely empty and with the human interaction completely gone. It just wasn’t Italy. It wasn’t my country. It sounds absurd but that was a huge emotional trigger, almost more than going into a COVID hospital. Because there, I had prepared myself for what I would see. But I hadn’t prepared myself for Rome.

Arianna PaganiA patient lies in the intensive care unit at the Cremona Hospital in Northern Italy.

What was the highlight of the filming experience and what was the most challenging?

The highlight was the life I had with Francesca [Mangiatordi, the ER doctor in the documentary]. She opened her doors to me, completely and entirely. I was living her work life and then going home with her family. It was meeting her and her family and building that relationship as well as with the other nurses. I spoke with Cristina [one of the ICU nurses] the other day and she said “you were part of the family, you lived it with us. You are one of us.” Another highlight was being able to be part of such a big and important story in Italy and having that unique experience of living it on the frontlines with the healthcare workers. I feel really privileged that I was able to do that and get more of an understanding of this virus. When you understand something, you are less afraid of it.

The hardest thing as a journalist reporting on your country is that you become really protective of certain parts of the culture, of the way that people are and of the story you are trying to tell. You are an insider. It’s hard to take a step back and look at it in the same way that you look at other places. I’ve realized it’s a very different kind of storytelling when you know the language and you aren’t an outsider. It was really easy for me to get the level of intimacy that I got. I don’t think that would have been possible in other parts of the world. There’s a beauty about just looking around you and trying to tell the stories that are equally as important—the stories that are next door rather than elsewhere. It was really beautiful and it kind of brought me closer to Italy.

Both you and Francesca Mangiatordi are women working on the frontlines of this pandemic in what can often be quite male-dominated environments. In your experience, how does gender shape what it means to be a frontline worker?

Personally, I’ve often benefited from being a woman. We often have an ability to build better access and relationships with people, especially when it comes to women and children. Women are more likely to open up to women.

I didn’t set out to find a female doctor. I found her through a photo she had taken. And then she sent me her video diaries and I realized that she was incredible. Going to Italy, which can be really misogynistic, I thought I would just find a bunch of old, grumpy Italian men. But instead, I found this hospital filled with feisty young women—and men as well. It was women doing the hard work. There were groups of women transferring bodies on the frontlines of this battle.

I don’t mean to sound cheesy but this group of women on the frontlines—they are carers, they are multitaskers, they can deal with dramatic situations but also be very empathetic and present. That’s what made this group of women so incredible in fighting COVID.

I remember one night at the end of my time there, it was about 3 a.m. and the doctors had pizzas delivered. These doctors and nurses all sat down and started recounting what had happened in the past two months. It was like group therapy. That’s the bond they’ve been able to create with each other. Now, they are helping each other process by reflecting and analyzing it. They are this incredible unit. I think in a way, women often have that ability to talk to each other. We can talk about emotions. And that’s what made these women so strong.

You reported on the Ebola outbreak in West Africa back in 2015, producing the documentary Outbreak that explores the mismanagement of the crisis by both state and international authorities. Do you see similarities between the Ebola epidemic and the current COVID-19 pandemic? And what feels different about this outbreak?

What feels similar is that when it started in China, people thought it was far away. They probably remembered SARS which never really went beyond Asia. Even in talking to doctors like Francesca, they say that when they heard about COVID-19 on the news, they never thought it was going to come to Italy. And that’s exactly what happened in West Africa. There was an outbreak and when it was reported on, people said it was never going to get to the West. It was only when an American doctor got ill that people started paying attention.

The differences are mostly related to how unpredictable this virus is compared to Ebola. Even though Ebola is scarier, I felt like I had more control over not getting it. But with coronavirus, you just don’t know how it’s going to affect you. This is what makes COVID-19 more terrifying and uncontrollable. It’s also not like Ebola where people were hemorrhaging from their eyes. Or in West Africa where you would see people dying out on the street. That’s visually not what we see from COVID-19. That’s made it easy for people to dismiss.

At the beginning, it was the elderly that were highly affected by it. It’s cynical to say but seeing an elderly person unwell is a more acceptable image to many people than a young person. All these factors didn’t help us take the whole thing seriously. I remember a friend of mine in Milan sent me a message saying, “Sasha, I’m not seeing these really dramatic images coming out of hospitals.” People in Italy were questioning the severity of it because they weren’t seeing the drama.

Outbreak warns that the world is not safe from future epidemics. What did it feel like to watch an even bigger outbreak unfold five years after extensively reporting on Ebola?

I think when it started out in China, I was like everyone else. I thought it wouldn’t come here. I was supposed to go on a six months sabbatical traveling with my boyfriend in April. And when COVID-19 reached Italy, naively—even though I was emotionally really affected by what was going on—the borders of the world hadn’t closed yet. Naively, we just thought, we won’t go through Italy and Iran. If I’m being brutally honest here, even having reported on an outbreak in West Africa, it didn’t prepare me for this.

Inside Italy’s COVID War premieres on FRONTLINE (PBS) & begins streaming on YouTube on Tuesday, May 19 at 10 p.m. EST and will be available on pbs.org/frontline at 7 p.m. EST.

Please send any tips, leads, and stories to virus@time.com

[moddersinc]

Gamers4Gamers

Gamers4Gamers - Helping those who can not help themselves... On Sept.14th, 2018, a Category 1 hurricane destroyed parts of coastal North and South Carolina. The storm surge flooding wiped away lives, destroyed houses, and ripped apart anything standing in its watery way. While many were in safety inland, or in other states... I could not help but feel for those poor souls that were left with nothing. What if your house was wiped out? Flooded with 5.5 - 6 feet of storm surge water? Everything you have is now under water. Pictures, clothes, furniture, and your trusty computer. For many, this is the reality they are now dealing with. Everything is gone. Digital and physical alike, floods make no distinctions. Water is the enemy of electrical components, and a flood will simply ruin everything. As I sat in my dry house, looking at the many blessings I have in my life, I began to think: "What can I do? What can we do?" "What can I organize to make a difference?" "What can *we* do?" That was a very liberating thought. Then it occurred to me, gamers will be missing their rigs! Those wonderful contraptions that transport us to other worlds, and give us a brief respite from our daily grind... except in this case, the daily grind is the arduous task of putting your life back together. For those that have computers, they are life savers. You can purchase and have items delivered, you can research and know proper answers, you can game, and have a little fun in the midst of all of the insanity around you. I imagined how much kids, who have so little to go on early in their lives, were straining under the weight of the loss of their computer. I thought of the adults that are doing what they can on their smartphones, but could get "so much more done on a computer". To all of them that were thrillists and escapists using their circuits to travel to far away places.... far away from the destruction they see every day... if only they could get away, if even for a few short jaunts...

I thought about the shelters for families, those on the run from an abusive spouse... or the cool off rooms that are sometimes in police or fire stations. Safe places where kids can go and relax knowing they are safe. How many of those have been affected? How many machines have been lost? How many people have been unable to let off some pressure, with a little gaming? Then it was cemented when one of my Destiny 2 clanmates spoke on our Discord server about losing everything. That was it. I had to find a way to do something, but what that something was seemed daunting. Almost laughable. Millions impacted, Thousands in need... and me, with a couple of computers? But to those couple of people/families/entities, they would be invaluable. "I need to find a way to replace some of those lost gaming rigs. I need to build machines that will be able to be used to bring a person back into the gaming world. I can't replace their software, they will have to do that. But I have enough contacts over the years to put machines together! I can piece them together! But how many can I do? So I set the number at 10. 10 complete machines. If I can do more, I will, but 10 seemed to be a reasonable number for a lone builder to shoot for. I have time on my side too. This disaster is slow moving. Because the flood waters are still receding in many places, they are still in peril. 2 weeks after this storm made landfall (writing this on 9/28), the flooding is still happening. Water that was pushed inland by the pressure of the hurricane, is now draining out. Some people came back after the hurricane only to have what little they had, washed away by the secondary floods. When I say I have time, I mean that these machines will need to be delivered when the recipient has a safe place to stay, electricity, broadband, etc. that is going to be weeks... months even. There is no HURRY on this...

My plan, in its most rudimentary form, is to build replacement gaming computers for individuals and agencies, that lost these assets in the hurricane and/or flooding. This is the area we are focusing on, right at the North Carolina and South Carolina borders where the states meet at the ocean

  Who all has signed on? I am so very thankful to the early adopters of this crazy idea of mine! These vendors are all on board with the premise, and have donated, or plan on donating to the cause. Without these early adopters and supporters, this would be a very difficult task to get off of the ground.

Thank you! As the parts arrive I will begin banner creation and sponsorship posts. For the grid below, please scroll to the right to see the parts status on all 10 machines. Vendors, please reference the below table so as to ensure minimal overlap: DATE: 10.6.2018 Comp 1 Comp 2 Comp 3 Comp 4 Comp 5 Comp 6 Comp 7 Comp 8 Comp 9 Comp 10 Case x x x x x 5/10 Cases Power supply 0/10 Power supplies Motherboard 0/10 motherboards Processor 0/10 processors CPU Cooler x x x x x x 6/10 CPU Coolers Memory 0/10 memory Storage 0/10 Hard drives Video card 0/10 Video Cards Fans x x 2/10 Fans Monitor 0/10 monitors Keyboard x x x 3/10 keyboards Mouse x x 2/10 mouse Headset x x x 3/10 headset   The goal is to have as many vendors as possible so that no one vendor shoulders the load. I am trying to gather the following items for delivery:

If you can participate/donate, I appreciate any and all help.

Let's do this, -=Craig Tate *UPDATE* 2/14/2019 It has been much more challenging to find partners in the areas affected. I realized that maybe my focus was too specific and difficult to target. So I altered my scope to look for kids and families in need of computer resources in the affected, instead specifically for gamers, and I am excited to say I have found an ally for this charitable outlet. Coastal Horizons Center, of Wilmington, NC. Working with their CIO, we have identified families and children in need of these resources! We have identified 6 people/families that need this relief: 4 families in need Family 1: family of 6; client is 13, limited financial resources, client has been sitting in in-school-suspension (ISS) because she does not have a computer at home to complete school projects (sounds unbelievable, but true). Family 2: family with 5 children, ranging from 5-15 years old (4 of these children are clients), limited financial resources; lost beds, furniture, roof during hurricane (we found a resource that provided beds for them and worked on their roof), living in Wallace, needing computer mostly for school projects and homework. Family 3: family of 3 children; client is 16, limited financial resources, lost everything in the hurricane, will be moving into their own home in Feb. Family 4: family of 2 children; client is 8, limited financial resources, in the process of repairing their trailer, (we connected them with resources in the community to provide clothing and cleaning supplies) Coastal Horizons Employee from one of our rural locations have an employee who was hit particularly hard and had to relocate from her home. I also know she does not have a computer at home, so this would make a world of difference for her. Client from our Wilmington Office Client with horrible living conditions and wants to move but says she needs to sell many of her things first. She has mentioned many times to her therapist that she needs a way to post things online.   As noted in the chart on the previous page, We are still lacking core components. However, with the broadening of the scope, many of the computers have become more general purpose, rather than gaming machines, which should make producing them easier. Simplicity and reliability will be key. Main things in need of now are motherboards/processors/RAM/SSD's for 6 machines Keyboards and mice for 3 machines Monitors for 6 machines We have the ability to make a difference in peoples lives with what we know and what we do. We have targets, we have a verified distribution outlet, and we have a tangible goal number that is reachable. I will be reaching out to people to complete the build parts list topo make this mission a reality. Lets give people something to feel good about, something to help themselves with. I thank you for your generosity and support as we help those who currently are doing without. -=Craig Read the full article

[geneshaven]

The Story Writes Itself

with thanks to MG and his writing staff, who motivated me write this. It is a work of fiction, not fact.

“Have you gotten anything?” Felicity asked Oliver as she stepped out of the elevator and into the Bunker.

“Oliver turned to her. “No, nothing.”

Felicity came up to the platform and Oliver got out of her chair so she could sit down. “I’m starting to get worried,” she said to him. “Do you think we’ve been forgotten?”

“Well,” Oliver responded. “The sun came up this morning, so I’d say no.”

“This is really getting annoying,” Felicity replied. She started pushing keys on her keyboard, but the computer monitors stayed dark. “I hate having nothing to do.”

“I know,” Oliver agreed. “How do you think I feel? I’m the hero with nobody to save.”

“Where are the others,” she asked him.

“As usual, waiting in the wings.”

“There is nothing we can do, Oliver?”

“No, Felicity. All we can do is wait and hope one of us has the motivation to get things started.”

Felicity pounded her fist into the keyboard. “I hate this,” she said again.

** The writer came into his office and sat at his desk. He put down his latte and turned on his computer.

Now that another summer was ahead and with the start of another new season looming in the fall, he started toying around with a story arc idea, one that came to him last week. As always, he wanted his stories to make everyone happy---most especially the fans. But as he learned after last season, that was not always going to be possible. He was happy and proud of the story he and his writing team told. But there was a large fan base that was not---some even got angry and tweeted some pretty nasty things about him.

No matter, though. This new season was going to be an epic one. He had some exciting changes he wanted to try. And the stunt work was going to be awesome.

Well, the story wasn’t going to write itself. The writer took a few sips from his coffee then begin typing. After a few sentences, the story started to unfold.

Epic, he thought. Really epic.

 **

Oliver suddenly sat up in his chair. Motivation surged through his like an epiphany.

Felicity looked at him with hope on her face. “Oliver, what is it? What’s wrong?”

A knowing smile crossed his face.” Felicity, I know what to do.”

“You mean…

“Yeah,” he told her. “It’s motivation. We need to wait for the rest of the team to get here.”

Suddenly, Felicity’s computers came on. She began to smile too. “About damn time,” she said. “Oliver, I’ll get in touch with them. They’ll be here in no time.”

Both of them were very excited.

** Outside the Bunker, Star City came alive, as if some powerful entity had pushed an on button somewhere. Cars moved up and down streets. Citizens walked to and from different destinations, as if they all had a purpose in their lives. Birds flew in the clear sky, and all the buses were running on time.

And above all this, the sun seemed to shine brighter and warmer.

**

Diggle listened to Oliver’s thoughts and he could only shake his head. Rene, Curtis, Dinah---they all had similar responses. They almost looked despondent as Oliver shared his motivation with them.

“Man, that is pretty lame,” Rene spoke when Oliver was finished. “You’re not like playing around with us, are you boss?”

“Rene, think about it,” Oliver told him. “If this was not legit, none of you would be here right now. All of you have a part in this, lame or otherwise.”

“Oliver,” John spoke up. “Rene is right though. This…uh, plan is not worthy of our abilities and talents. It almost feels like we’re being fooled---or cheated.”

The rest of the team nodded in agreement.

“Oliver,” Felicity said. “They’re right. This plan is…well, sorry, but it’s not very well thought out.”

Oliver looked at his team and shook his head. “You’re right,” he told them. “It isn’t. But I don’t have anything else. We need motivation. We need purpose and a goal. Do you want to just stay down her in limbo instead?”

“But Oliver,” Curtis complained. “Malcolm Merlyn? Aren’t you…I mean, hasn’t that story played itself out?”

Felicity seemed to disengage from the conversation. She had turned away and was staring at the algorithms on her computer screens. A sudden thought, or motivation lit up her mind and then moved down into her heart. Her hands began to shake.

“Well, I’m the newest one around here,” Dinah continued the conversation. “But I have to agree with Oliver. It’s been quiet for too long. My thumbs are getting sore from twiddling them too much. If I’m being given a chance to hit someone, I don’t care if it’s Malcolm Merlyn or Shirley Temple. I want some action.”

Oliver was about to respond to her, when another motivation took hold of him. He tuned out the conversation and turned his full attention on to Felicity.

“Oliver…” she started to say.

“Felicity…he started to say.

“I love you,” they both said at the same time.

**

The writer pushed himself away from the computer and rubbed his eyes. He reached for his latte and took another drink. The coffee had gone cold. So had his story.

He was not feeling the Big Bad this time around. Malcolm Merlyn was becoming a boring go to villain. After so many seasons, the show needed another bad guy, one that the fans would love to hate, not be bored by.

And Oliver and Felicity?  The writer was thinking the same thing about them as well. Their feelings for one another were becoming contrived and predictable. He wanted to separate them and write them as individuals, with their own goals and desires. Yes, keep them together as friends and partners, but give them more to do instead of goggling each other. Both of them are strong characters---the core of the show almost. But, if romance was to be the only thing motivating them, something great could be lost. The writer didn’t want to disappoint the fans by making the characters less true to themselves.

He went back to his computer and deleted the last few paragraphs he had written about Oliver and Felicity. He started to think of another way to write them.

**

John had taken the rest of the team out to look for Merlyn. Oliver knew they were right about this new motivation. Discovering about and then confronting the bad guys had been getting anti-climatic as of late. It seemed too easy. John was right in pointing out that all their skills were being wasted. Oliver didn’t spend all those years training and suffering only to come back and fight the equivalent of boy scouts.

Yet, he couldn’t ignore the motivation and drives when they came to him. He was the leader. He was supposed to set an example. He had helped shape his team into heroes, and for him to give in to their lack of enthusiasm for the missions---well, it was no way for them to be all they can be.

And then there was Felicity. For the past three days, Oliver had been trying to fight against his growing feelings for her. Somehow, it felt wrong to him to have those kinds of feelings. Yes, they had been through so much together, and those experiences had brought them closer together. But was it enough to elevate them into soul mate status? Oliver had not been getting any signals from her. She was almost an island unto herself. And Oliver did not have very good luck with islands.

He looked over at Felicity sitting at her computers, her back to him as she worked her magic. He was still in awe of her, of her skills and seemingly effortless ability to find something out of nothing. He could not deny to himself anymore a certain attraction. She was beautiful and witty and charming. She was also a genius. Despite struggling with his feelings for her, recruiting her onto the team was the best decision he ever made. There was something there. Maybe the motivation he was getting about her was wrong. But when he looked at her, when her soft voice called his name and her breath taking smile stilled his heart---it felt right.

**

Felicity could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as she followed the latest lead on Merlyn scrolling on her screens.

She was still not sure if Oliver felt the same way about her as she did for him. She was frustrated that she had to keep her feelings to herself. It was becoming complicated and more difficult working around him. There had been a couple times during the past few days when she almost went to him. It had been unbearable stopping herself.

Felicity realized she was in love with Oliver a couple years ago. She couldn’t wait to get to the Arrow Cave every evening. Watching him being heroic and brave, being kind and polite and compassionate, and let’s face it, gorgeous---it made her heart flutter. There were moments when she would be patching up his injuries that she had to stop herself from touching him, from running her hands over his Greek god of a body.

Felicity turned to face Oliver, unable to keep herself from avoiding the inevitable any longer.

“Oliver---“she spoke.

“Felicity…” he spoke.

And sudden electricity filled the space between them.

**

When the writer came into his office the next morning, he was excited to get back into the story. He found a new direction with Oliver and Felicity.

He sat down at his computer, turned it on and then froze.

On the screen, a different story arc appeared. One he had not written. He read a portion of it:

Felicity turned to face Oliver, unable to keep herself from avoiding the inevitable any longer.

“Oliver---“ she spoke.

“Felicity…” he spoke.

And sudden electricity filled the space between them.

The writer was confused. Okay, somebody is messing with him. He had deleted the love arc last night. He had decided to take them in different directions, away from each other.

Yet, there it was. A different reality for the two characters. In black and white. It was as if after he left last night, the story continued on without him.

The writer started to read some more of the words on his screen. It spite of his doubt and confusion, he had to acknowledge a growing admiration.

Wow, this could be good, he thought.

@hope-for-olicity @almondblossomme @louiseblue1 @ruwithmeguys @swordandarrow @tdgal1 @vaelisamaza @ibelievenu @it-was-a-red-heeler @

[slyreaderslibrary]

CH. 9 Rumors

AO3: Here

Fanfiction: Here

Summary: Keeping a secret identity secret is normally hard enough but when you’re as beautiful as Minako Aino you’re bound to have all kinds of creeps and weirdo stalking your every move. Now there’s a cop hot on her trail and she’ll have to be quick on her feet if she’s to keep her identity on the DL. Just what is a gorgeous super-heroine to do?

Keisuke walked up to a nondescript apartment building on the corner of two minor streets with a 7-Eleven a few blocks down. He knocked on the appropriate door and waited until Ueda answered it shortly after, swinging the door wide open to reveal a mass of reddish blond curls atop a rather disheveled, scrawny looking man.

"Finally!" Ueda huffed, waving him in, "I was beginning to think you'd never show. Some of us do have other things to do you know?"

Keisuke clasped his hands behind his back and stepped into the open floor styled apartment. "I apologize for my tardiness. There was an incident on the Rainbow Bridge."

"Traffic accident?"

"No, jumper."

Ueda pursed his lips. "I suppose you were able to talk him down given that you're here now and not calling to reschedule again." He gestured for the detective to sit on the couch and then took the chair adjacent to him.

"He's alive," Keisuke confirmed, not bothering to go into details. "But I'm not here to talk about him. What can you tell me?"

Ueda nodded and then stood, walking into another room to retrieve something.

"By the way, can I offer you anything to drink?" Ueda asked upon reappearing, holding a thin silver laptop.

"No thank you."

"Well then, let me just…" Ueda took a seat and opened the laptop, typing for a few minutes, and then twisted the screen to face him.

Keisuke adjusted the screen and skimmed over the contents, clicking the cursor now and then and scrolling down until he reached the bottom of the file. When he had finished, he pushed the laptop back towards Ueda and sat back in his seat as he processed the information.

"Has this been cross verified?"

"Several times over." Ueda raised a pointed brow, "The data wasn't difficult to collect. I'm surprised the police haven't noticed a similar pattern yet."

"We knew about the populated locations trend. Terrorists generally tend to target areas with high foot traffic. That pattern grew less consistent though when they began targeting single individuals." Keisuke gestured towards the laptop. "I was unaware however, that there were momentary spikes in radiation levels before each attack."

"Not just radiation," Ueda corrected, "although I think it's safe to attribute those to your "so-called" youma. There's also usually several adjacent spikes in energy levels following that burst of radiation that I've concluded belong to the Sailor Senshi."

Keisuke scoffed. "The Senshi are nothing but an urban legend."

"Oh?" Ueda ran his fingers over the keyboard in rapid succession and then twisted the laptop back towards Keisuke. "What do you call them then?"

Keisuke looked to see five women—all dressed in ridiculously short and colorful skirts—yelling at something just off screen. The camera shook as the videographer crept closer, its lens zooming in on the two nearest; a short, blue haired woman and another one with long golden hair. Keisuke's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Something about the blonde seemed familiar but he wasn't sure what. The video continued for another few seconds until one of the women raised her hands and then the video cut off.

"Well?"

Keisuke eyed the other man staring at him expectantly. "All I saw were a bunch of women running around in colorful costumes."

Ueda threw his hands in the air with a disgruntled groan. "You can't film them when they use their powers! It fries the electrical systems if the youma's radiation hasn't fucked it all up already!" He crossed his arms and shot Keisuke a look of contempt. "There's too many stories, too many eye witness accounts for them to be just dismissed as an urban legend and yet no one has been capable of capturing their images. Surely an intelligent man, such as yourself, isn't ignorant enough to outright ignore the possibility of their existence?"

Keisuke frowned, touching the hidden flash drive in his pocket. The camera feed from the bank had been fried following him sucker punching the first robber to the ground but there hadn't been anything or anyone supernatural there. Sometimes technology just crapped out. Then again...something had twisted the AR-15s' barrel unnaturally.

"I can see you've remembered something," Ueda smirked. He handed him a small flash drive. "I took the liberty of making you a copy of my files. Use them wisely detective."

"Not so fast," Keisuke said, eyeing Ueda suspiciously, "If they can't be caught on camera, how'd you manage that video?"

"Please," Ueda drawled, "I'm a genius. I rigged my camera to withstand the initial bursts of radiation and energy surges in order to catch those few seconds. Didn't last long mind you," he shrugged, "but I think it did the job."

Keisuke nodded, satisfied, and pocketed the flash drive alongside his other one and then stood to leave.

"I'll be sure to give this to our analysts and credit you for the information. It may not be able to prevent anything but it will certainly improve our response time. Thank you."

Ueda waved him off. "Just doing my civic duty and all that."

"Yes, well, I and my fellow officers at the TCPD appreciate it."

Keisuke left Ueda's and headed directly for his precinct, hoping to catch Goto before the day's end.

…

Goto had already left for the day by the time he arrived, so he spent the rest of his day filling out paperwork and reviewing his notes. He was just dropping off a short briefing on Commissioner's desk over what he'd learned at Ueda's when Tsuji Gorou, another detective he partnered with some times, walked over to him.

"A few of us are going out tonight to that new club that just opened. You in?"

Keisuke gave the other man a flat look.

"Why would I want to waste my personal time surrounded by drunken idiots?"

Gorou laughed. "Don't be like that. It'll be fun, I swear! Plus, rumor has it several well known celebrities will be in attendance tonight, including your pretty blonde suspect."

Keisuke shot Gorou another look but eventually agreed to go although given her recent history, he wasn't sure if he hoped Aino would be there or not.

~~~

Minako groaned and rolled over, blindly searching for her phone for a few seconds before dragging it to her line of vision. Her notifications indicated she'd gotten several texts. She yawned and opened her text window.

Hey Gurl! Where r u?

Get down x already!

Y's waitin 4 u!

If u don't want him, Ill take him :P

That's right, she'd promised to make an appearance at that new club. Shoot.

Minako flopped back onto her pillow and checked the time. It was barely nine thirty. She could probably swing it.

She hopped out of bed with more energy then she had to spare and slipped into the bathroom to splash some water on her face and add some mascara and glittery gold eyeshadow to her eyes before donning a new backless black dress she'd been dying to wear. A spritz of perfume and a twist of her hair and she was ready to go.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Minako rolled her eyes and turned to see Artemis entering from the window.

"I promised I'd stop by that club tonight, remember?"

Artemis rolled his eyes and hopped onto her bed.

"And I said you needed rest, remember?"

"I've been sleeping since I got home. Besides," Minako said, striking a pose, "I'm already all brushed up!"

"It's dolled up," Artemis huffed.

"Which I am!" Minako grabbed her phone and slipped it into her purse. "Anyway, got to go. Don't wait up!"

…

"I'll get us some drinks!" her friend Momo yelled over the beats of the DJ. Minako nodded that she understood and moved to find them a table. Although she had promised the owners of Kismet that she'd be attending tonight, it had been much too crowded to reserve them any.

Minako paused in her search to take a quick selfie, flashing her signature V and a cheeky grin. She checked the image, chose a light filter, and then posted it to her Instagram with a #girlsjustwannahavefun tag.

"Hey beautiful," said a voice to her right.

Minako turned to see who had addressed her and noted a muscular man in a tight tee. He had a couple friends behind him who weren't quite as built as him but didn't look like they'd been skipping the gym either.

"Are you looking for a place to sit?" asked the man upon catching her attention. "Because my face has a vacancy."

Minako made a face at the crude pickup line but attempted to turn him down gently.

"Sorry, I don't go home with strangers."

She turned to walk away but a grip on her arm prevented her from getting any further.

"Don't be like that baby," said the man, "Stay and chat with me awhile. Get to know me."

Minako slipped her arm from his grasp and put her hands up in front of her, hoping to placate the jerk. She needed to end the interaction quickly before Momo showed back up and the creep got his hands on her as well but Minako also couldn't afford to make a scene in such a public space.

"I'm sorry but I'm here with a friend. I really have to go."

"And I think you should stay."

The asshole moved to grab her again when another club patron stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"She's not interested bud. Move along."

"Who the fuck are you twiggy? I could snap you in half like," the asshole snapped his fingers and smirked but the other man merely laughed.

"I'd like to see you fucking try."

That was all the incentive muscle head needed as he lunged for the other man but the other man was faster and dodged, sending the idiot running into several patrons nearby and ripping the dress of one woman as he attempted to regain his balance.

The woman screamed, drawing the attention of those around her, including her date who then proceeded to take a swing at the muscle head who dodged and shoved the woman's date into the man he'd originally been fighting, as well as several others. His asshole friends jumped to either side of him causing the first man's buddies to join in and transforming the fight into an all out brawl with the addition of the date, who was quick to jump back into the thick of things punching whoever came within arm's reach, which at one point happened to be Minako.

Minako dodged the punch—and dodged a few more things as well—and scanned over the chaos breaking out in search of her friend. Women were shrieking and running away, one man broke a chair on another man's back, and at least two men were on the ground pummeling others but there was no Momo. Minako ducked behind a corner and scrutinized the mess a little closer. There! Momo had hidden behind the bar while the bartender and bouncer attempted to help break things up.

Minako started to go to her but was again prevented from leaving by a grip on her arm.

"And where do you think you're going,"leered the jerk who started it all, pulling her towards him.

"Let her go," demanded a familiar baritone and Minako was more than a little relieved to see it was the detective of all people.

The jerk dropped her arm and to take a swing at the detective but Detective Koizumi merely leaned back a few inches, avoiding the blow.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Detective Koizumi warned him but this only infuriated the other man more. He took several more swings, all easily dodged with a step here or there until eventually Detective Koizumi just smirked and caught the attacker's fist in one hand before twisting it around and making the other man cry out in pain.

"Attacking an officer is guaranteed jail time, you know." He pulled out his handcuffs from his jacket and cuffed his attacker behind his back before turning steel grey eyes on Minako. "Are you alright Aino-san?"

"I'm fi—watch out!"

Minako yanked the detective towards her, throwing him off balance and out of the way of the jagged end of a broken bottle. His leather jacket wasn't as lucky.

Another man tackled the assailant from behind, disarming him in the process.

"Keisuke you okay?"

"Yeah," Detective Koizumi said, inspecting the large gash in his jacket. He frowned and then threw out a hand to help the other man up. " Thanks for the assist Gorou."

"No problem," Gorou grinned. "Aren't you glad you came out now?"

Minako watched in amusement as the detective leveled his friend with a flat stare while several other officers rounded up brawlers in the background. She should probably see to her own friend since the fight seemed to be calming down.

"Thanks for your help detective," Minako smiled, flushing just the slightest when both men turned to look at her. She raised her brow knowingly and inwardly cheered when both men leaned closer. "Your timing was impeccable as always."

"I wouldn't need to be if you could manage to stay out of trouble," Detective Koizumi smirked, shrugging out of his jacket. He grabbed something out of its pocket and then draped the jacket over her shoulders. "Here. Although it's torn, it'll help. I'm sure you'll be chilly in that dress once the adrenaline runs out."

This time Minako did blush fully but she pulled the large jacket tighter over her shoulders anyways. "Thank you." She hesitated for a moment and then pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight."

Minako fled the scene as quick as her legs could take her.