#Ask her questions here on The Gunsmith Cat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

datarevived · 4 years ago

Text

-- Ⅳ : ᴢᴀᴠᴀʟᴀ

The feeling of the sun was warm today. Its' rays not too hot nor blistering; while being caressed by the gentle tones of the wind that brought in a cooling kiss upon ones' skin. The welcoming of a new day rests upon the horizon, its' luminescence peering through the vented windows of the building she called a home. Today was the day she'd stop sneaking around and hiding. Today was the day she'd make a decision.

The dull twilight of ones' skin twinkled in the soft sunlight of the room as she stretched herself awake to a new day. Body having sprawled against the mattress on the floor, as sheets seem to have tangled her lower legs in a midnight fret, causing a temporary distress solved by none other than viciously kicking until the cotton fell from her feet. A yawn -- or was it a groan? as she tumbles upon her side, lazy arm flung over her face as she debated greeting back the morning with tiresome gaze.

In the back of her mind, she'd blame the mattress being on the floor, that she should have stacked more blankets to make do for the lack of comfort. But in reality, it was a tiresome mind, too loud to cut off and too persistent to sleep peacefully. Numerous questions and scenarios that had rot through her head during the night -- her purpose, and what she now stood for among the people. What this power in her chest stood for and who granted it -- for what reason, why her -- she'd fail to get the answers she wanted; and so she'd try to get the answers she could, today.

A familiar whirl chimes in the air -- mechanical tick hovering over lifeless body as it queued an audible ' hum '. A single blink of ones' optic as if to consider the following, before its' voice cracked the air in such sharpness against the silence.

" Do you plan to stay in bed all day? " the light asked.

A rhetorical answer -- the Awoken lets out another groan, the tips of her fingers flexing in consideration before rolling onto her stomach and shoving her face further into the pillow. Arms cross over her head, her backside seeming to rise and fall with each breath. Already, the stress of being unreasonable and responsibility was weighing on her social meter.

" It's not healthy, you know. Even as a Guardian, you still have to take care of yourself. "

And her companion-for-life was not helping.

" Ihm ghttin' hmp. "

" ...Ah, what? "

" Ihm' ge'ttin' upppp, " the translation whines, pinched between pillow and cheek as Selene turns her head just briefly enough to inhale clean air and understandable vocals. A pause in her movements before getting committed, the woman then putting her hands at the sides of her head and pushing upward in a mean cat stretch, a few bones in her shoulder popping the excess air between joints as she did so. It was a satisfying yet dreadful feeling -- bringing her knees beneath her core and sitting on her feet, raising arms to the ceiling as she tugged each shoulder once at the opposing side before pushing her chest outward in another stretch following ' pop '.

A worn expression written across her face, certainly not the one of a full nights' rest but it would have to do. Dulled irises take point around the room, surveying the box-esq environment that had been gifted to her from Hawthorne before looking up upon her Ghost, its' shell hovering in plain sight. A half frown in return to its' original statement, that she'd rather much stay in the damp coolness of her room than go out another day avoiding Ikora's eye contact.

" Are you always like this? "

" Like what? " the Ghost blinked.

" Like... this, " she flips a wrist, motioning to nothing in particular as she comments, " You know, around. Just kinda... floating about. Do you not sleep or do activities yourself? "

" I... do not, " the reply comes with a vague confusion, " No sleep, no hobbies, well -- there is reading and decoding, but, most would say its' more a chore than hobby, " it rattles, " But, we Ghost don't exactly require the physical stimulation that you life-forms do. Nor do we have a purpose outside our Guardian -- hence, my hobby, is making sure that you have hobbies. And that you're safe, and kept in line. "

" Mmm... sure, " the Guardians' head tilts, the information only half making its' way to being processed. That the Ghost was more an unmovable thorn in her foot, than that of a best friend for life. Interesting, to say the least. At this point, not knowing if she'd be fond of the fact or not.

Matters to decide for later, she supposed.

With violet brows furrowing in thought, she then begins the day by prying herself from the floor. Pulling ones' self to feet, walking over to the nearby dresser, stocked with two sets of clothes as she changes from her sleep wear -- a tank with cotton shorts to a long-sleeve and fitting pants. The threads in the pocket of said pants prickled at the side as if only recently seamed. Nothing too spectacular, but it beat walking around the place bare. A cotton-braid pair of socks, with boots to match the fix, and she was out the door -- greeted by the rising sun on the horizon as the sounds of the busy Bazaar scurried awake.

" Are you going to talk to Ikora today? " the Ghost asks, keeping its' distance within the Awoken's head space. Its' optic ever so often looking back at its' Guardian, curious of what new actions she might take. Rarely did it seem to meet eye-to-eye, her attention always seemingly caught elsewhere.

" I'm not sure. "

An exaggerated way of saying, ' no ', she walks through the halls of the Tower before coming up to the opening of the balcony. The soft breeze causing her hair to flutter to the side, the sun once more striking a ray against her face, causing a set of star-aligned freckles to shimmer. The smells of the ramen shop just up the road begin to make way into her senses -- lunch prep ushering her to spend what few glimmer she carried.

In the corner of her eye, the Warlock is already at her post. Never a dime missed on the hourglass, it seemed. The mere thought of how a woman could remain so... poise, even in the front line of a war; it sends a chill down the Awoken's spine. A nervous swallow in the back of her throat as she considers her options -- her doubts. If such was true that Ikora was apart of the Vanguard, and that they ran things around here...

" ...I think, I want to talk to the other Vanguards. "

" The others? " her Ghost perks, a questionable expression lighting upon its' sensor. " Is that wise? "

" I'd have to meet them eventually, anyway, right? " Selene hums. " Plus... what if this whole place is just... some sort of recruitment shack. Like, they just... tell you what you want to hear. A bait and trap. "

" You don't trust them? "

" It's not that... " her voice cracks at an offended tempo, " It's just... this is still, just... I don't know, it's just so unreal to me. That this... this is what the middle of war looks like, that half these people have one life to live while the others are just, eating it up and doing whatever they want. That, who decides what goes on around here is driven by people who don't have any reason to fear, and that by any standard is just -- just -- "

" Okay, okay. Wrong term, my bad, " the Ghost interrupts, stopping the woman in her rant. " Ah, perhaps the use... ah, paranoid? I do believe that is the better definition here. You're weary -- perfectly natural. Humans are very weary creatures, always the unexpected. But! If I might be able to help weigh your options a bit, that the people here might be more of help that say so, whatever it is that they are fighting beyond the wall. "

" Yeah, yeah -- I get it, yeah, " she sighs, waving a hand in surrender as the other is raised to her head -- pinching the higher bridge of her nose as she breathed. Nothing to get the blood boiling like good morning conspiracy theories. " I know... I know here is right. It just, feels right. But I... I want to know what the others say. I want to see if someone says anything different. Or if this place is just... one big... "

" Recruitment center? "

" ..Was going with family, but yeah. That would be the alternative, I guess. "

The Awoken's mind settling on the latter, she then moves from the shadow of the halls and onward toward the courtyard. Vibrations throughout the pipes of the Tower, rattling in motion between docking ships and fired engines becoming more apparent the further she climbed up the various stairwells. The smells of burnt wire and steel work replace the scent of spices and broth -- the sound of tinkering tools echoing off the plated walls of the gunsmith's shop. To its' side, the sounds of soft tapping and page turning from the cryptarch -- the mans' gaze loitering over the passing Awoken for a moment before going back to his work in hand.

What could be rightfully labeled as the roof of the Tower -- vibrant in both color and life. Multitudes of Guardians walking about the place, as conversations dotted the corners and other shops. A booming voice that stood among the masses laughed near the edge of the walls, a man built tall and full garb in armor head to toe with hands planted at his hips. Occupied with several other Guardians in full suits, their chat too mixed between the masses to really listen in on the details.

Had his aura not been so inviting, Selene may have very well mistaken the man as the Vanguard she was here to see. But not too far away, stood another man who seemed quieter of the bunch -- matching a very fitting description of, ' big blue ', as his attention held tight to the city beneath the mass.

" That is very much a leader pose if I've ever saw it, " her Ghost comments, swerving a round.

Her stomach is already twisting in an eager knot at the thought. The brief idea of hunting down the remaining Vanguard, first, then saving the king for last -- it's an option on the table but whether or not it'd place her anywhere different, is slim chance to none. To suck it up, get it over with -- she wanted answers, and who better than the leader of the pack to get them? It was a mental battle of persistence and cowardice, the Awoken's face twitching in discomfort before taking in a deep breath and flooring it towards the man with a staggered walk. Her Ghost, the small light which held plenty of commentary before, quickly popping out of existence as she approached, its' guidance silenced by the figurative means to observe and not heard.

Before words can leave her mouth, it was one step too late that the Titan turns his back to the city, his full attention held in approach as he meets her gaze eye to eye. As if sixth sense, or perhaps just the idle sound of footwork from behind -- the man replicates the traditional Awoken features, his skin touch of blue and eyes sharp as nails against night. An inquisitive look dosed upon his face, brow anchored upward in question as he stares back at the doe before him.

A silence is given in return -- the woman held hostage by her own nerves as she stares back. The height difference only just now dawning on its' intimidation factor, the Titan's shadow engulfing her like an eclipse. His face lacked the warmth of the Warlock's smile, and his voice remained unspoken, immediately lacking Hawthorne's charm. What was she thinking, just only having one foot in the den and already going towards its' pack alpha? What did she expect?

" Eh--Excuse me... " the two words slipping through her mouth, it feels as if it takes the remainder of her breath along with it. " I was... l-looking... "

" --Looking? " his jaw opens, curiosity piqued in favor as one brow raises higher. " Something I might be able to assist, Guardian? "

Ah. A traditional habit they seemed to have -- the disregard to names. A previous conversation held with Hawthorne echoing in the back of her head, it's just easier that way. Pensive expression slipping through the cracks of constraint for only a second, the Awoken regroups her words in full before trying again.

" I... I mean, I was looking... for the Van..guard. "

Pause is held for what felt like hours, the woman sheering away her gaze to something minuscule upon the ground as she waited. In return, the Titan's face softens momentarily, brow put at ease and corners of lips curl in interest. It isn't a smile, but a look of concern -- the nudge of ones' head as he speaks, his voice resonating in low cadence.

" We've not met, have we? " it's stated far less than a question, and more as matter of fact. " I would welcome you to the Tower, but it seems that someone else has beat me to it, and has already offered you space, " he motions, a hand raising in gesture towards her familiar attire. " I apologize that we've not been introduced earlier or I'd been happy to oblige... but I am Zavala, Commander of the Vanguard and seer to Guardian Military Operations. To whom I owe the pleasure? "

" I'm... I -- my name, is Selene. I'm... H-Hawthorne, actually, got me... settled in... " the Awoken fumbled, her eyes darting to anything else than to maintain eye contact with the other as her hands grabbed at the loose ends of her shirt. Her cheeks pinched in ache at the attempt to remain presentable -- a hallow hole in her chest nearly suffocating her by a whim. " I... don't mean to intrude... "

" Ease yourself, Selene. There are no enemies here, " Zavala spoke, this time cracking a soften smile. " I am unsure what has you so... perturbed. But I assure you, you are safe here. A place of solid peace and mind, may there be no safer place out there. "

How unfortunate that his words only fulfilled the opposite of what they mean to encourage.

" S-Sorry, it's just... adjusting, " she manages to speak out, one hand reaching towards the nape of her neck. Another survey of the courtyard and its' distortion before taking a breath and meeting back eye contact with the Commander. " I've... talked to Ikora Rey, and, wanted to.. speak with the remaining Vanguard if it was possible... "

" Ikora? " he repeats, quirking another brow movement, " A woman often too wise for her own good, but unmatched in the laws of Warlocks. I can only hope she remained positive in mentioning the remainder of the Vanguard, " a chuckle. " I am... right to assume then, as a New Light, she's given you some insight on the situation we find ourselves currently? "

" S-Somewhat... she mentioned a war. Something about, Cabal and the Traveler, " her eyes move up to the figure in the sky temporarily, " And that... Guardians are, typically the front line. Especially uhm... new Lights... "

Another pause -- the Titan works to process all of his words correctly, perhaps more in detail than the Warlock let on. As he, too, takes a glance at the chained Traveler, his expression is something Selene's already witnessed before upon the face of Ikora when she spoke all the same of the deity. A pained look of failing hope -- something so far to grasp, yet barely brushing the fingertips of the chosen.

" ...We've lost many of our best. Ghaul having been a step ahead this whole time, and with it, leaving us to be hacked away by the masses. The Red War will not just be known for its' fight against the Red Legion, but the blood of our fallen brothers and sisters... we owe it to them to fight. To keep strong, and win against this threat that's taken away from us so many. " a hand moves in place as Zavala grips the railings of the Tower, the fabric of gloved mesh tightening against his figure. " This is not just a War for the Traveler, but for the very species of the human kind. Should we lose, risk extinction against the Cabal, and like a history untampered, we become like the rest we dare never meet. "

Put into a larger perspective, the decision begins to weigh twice as much upon her shoulders now. A grimace of features as she raises hands from shirt to arms, wrapping her own across her chest as she hugged at her own frame. A being so small, yet so full of power. The human race stood on the line, and the Guardians were the only ones who stood a chance to fight back. It was less of a heroic journey and more of an obligated fate, sewn between crimson string that fell indestructible to scissors of the Gods.

Anyone to chose any differently -- to decide that enough was enough and that they'd live their life normally, while those condemned to a single life worked tirelessly to survive, were they looked at in poor taste? Or were they shunned all together, nothing but rumors upon dirt to those who remained so cowardly and/or selfish to abide by the strengths they were given.

She didn't ask for this.

No one did.

But certainly, in her mind -- Gods, she didn't ask for this.

" Had it not been for the Traveler, I doubt even humanity would have survived past the Golden Age... " Zavala's words pick up, guiding the Awoken's attention back to his front, " But here we are. More alive than we've ever been. And I'll be damned I let the Cabal take it from us. "

His hand lessens around the railing in front of him, his gaze teetering back to the Guardian present. Selene's entire body seemed encased by uncertainty, so much so that the Commander could read it without question. He takes a breath before continuing, rephrasing the very same that had been spoken of from the Warlock days earlier.

" -- We do not ask that all Guardians fight. That is a choice for them to make their selves, and in doing so, your decision to make. We cannot ask you to risk life after life, fighting for something you do not believe in. But if I might be able to give one simple request, " his voice comes between a mix of empathy and solidarity -- " is that I ask you to think it over, Guardian. Not everyone can do the things that you can do... nor can they achieve the heights you can achieve. With this boon of the Traveler, it is my belief we owe it to those who cannot fight for themselves. That we are gifted in such a way that we are meant to do so much more. If you believe your strengths to be shone elsewhere, however... there is none to stop you. Nor will we see you as any less. "

It was a concern on its' own how contempt his face sat in the process of delivering a bold-face lie. His words thrown on her like a weighed cloak, sewn with half-needles as they gnawed into her skin. The repeating definition -- ' gift ' -- such things were given in joyous occasion, not bestowed upon those unnoticed. And yet, it seemed all the same here -- both between the Vanguard and other Guardians who seem to accept such responsibility so lightly.

Was she wrong, for being so callus?

Was she wrong, for needing time to decide?

" I... I'll think on it."

Right now, all she wanted to do was retreat back into her room. To dive back under the blankets, sink into the floor and melt away. What she wanted, answers to questions that plagued the back of her skull like a continuous tune, and yet what she got was a louder tempo. It was sickening -- she felt morally sick, her chest aching to explode at the lack of air and her arms wanting to bruise at the brute force her nails seem to dig against.

She didn't want to think.

She didn't want to be here.

She didn't want to be a Guardian.

She just wanted to be.

" It's all we can ask for, " the Commander nods, offering a plain smile. " Was there anything else I can do for you? "

" No, thank you. I'm... actually going to head out for lunch. Then... ah... "

" Rest easy, Guardian. Enjoy your meal, " he finishes the farewell for her. Whether its' to be polite and ease her burden, or be it for his own impatience -- she didn't know. He was but a temple, impossible to read in the ways she could others. Fatigue quickly zapping the rest of her energy as she turned and walked away, the mental capacity of all that was running through her head meeting the equivalent of informational override.

" That was... different, " her Ghost hums, sparking back to life as it weaved near her shoulder. " What do you think? "

. . .

" I don't want to talk about it right now. "

#✦ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴ / drabble #destiny 2 #destiny 2 short story #destiny 2 rp #d2 rp

1 note · View note

wyrmguardcoalition · 5 years ago

Photo

The Rise and fall of Monsters.

Beasts and creatures of horrific creation were becoming more widespread - and so the call came for help! Amon roused the Wyrmguardians, and they came to the call... Hell a lot came to the call; lets see if I got everyone! F’lyn, Kiratai, llyirana, Zhalar, Avelaina, Sevyx, Tsuki, Prei, Amon, and Faelyneaux; Just a whole mess of people. Although, for the first portion of this.... Starr(Tsuki) and Sev joined this fight after these shenanigans...

To the Sagolii desert they went! For the mining camps in the desert, as they had already suffered an attack, where a gigantic beast had destroyed everyone and everything, except for one little girl, still clutching her mother's dismembered arm to her chest. Kira took the girl in immediately, while F'lyn scouted out and spotted the trail of the monster... It had traveled beneath the sand. Meanwhile Zhalar made the mistake of opening himself up and immediately discovering what was at work here... Magic... BLACK magic... Could it be? Forbidden, and thought lost, it had reappeared in this desert there was no mistake of that!

They followed the trail of this monster thanks to F'lyn's keen eye, leading them to another camp. All the while Kiratai would keep the girl safely upon her chocobo as they confronted a man in a black robe, who appeared to be... playing with the desecrated corpses of the bodies left in his wake. "Too soon." They were told, and as F'lyn made a break to attack - a monstrous sandworm erupted from the desert! Mouths and limbs covering it's entire body; it possessed endless gaping maws... As there was no stomach but the pure abyss of dark magic.

This beast was no match for the Wyrmguard though! As they took it on without fear, battling it down quickly before the turned their sights onto the mage. The mage who wove such intricate dark magic turned his attention to the Wyrmguardians in kind - and gave them exactly what they were asking for, a fight! If they wanted to stop his macabre creations, they would have to go through the darkness he could create! And that already twisted though dead creation was given new life... And as it sank beneath the sands, it rose again, this time with three swirling heads! (HAIL HYDRA!)

Lashing out, they pummeled the part upon entering, only to turn all their attention to the one that demanded it - F'lyn. If not for the swift healing of Zhalar and Kiratai, the party was in trouble, but most of all their cat boy was going to be killed! Eeep. LUCKILY DAMAGE WAS ON THEIR SIDE! Illyirana pummeled them with a massive fireball, while Prei concocted and unleashed RUIN upon the worm. Fae delivered punishing magical blows upon sandworm and mage alike! Amon went lumberjack chopping, while Ave turned the worm into a Brillo pad, the massive three headed creation however... Made mincemeat of F'lyn.

Ripping him to shreds, they were never prepared for the ultimate attack combination in the meantime! THE CERBERUS LIMIT BREAKER PLUS KIRA! F'lyn used up all the energy he could to finish one head, while Ave fired an arrow that carved another head in twain! Purple blood and guts filled the air! And something else?! PREI UNLEASHES METEOR HOLY FUDGE BALLS. Damn near crushing the tank in the process - almost seemed premeditated but considering the lack of him being as splattered as the worm was, the group got to witness the power of an ANGRY KIRATAI Calling upon the strength of a demi-primal, she cast a spell that many knew and feared... THE BLUE AKH MORN!

The mage who had suffered at the hands of Fae and Ave was burned into the ground as nothing more than skeletal remains... A staff... and the soul stone of a black mage... Woo... The fight... was finally over! Wasn't... it? WRONG.

Kiratai retreated with child and F'lyn, while the others sorted themselves out, looking on towards the black magic and mage in question. What were they to do about it? And then the trap was sprung. Amon's gunsmith, one who happened to know all of Amon's plans and just what it was all this time, had been secretly plotting. He needed the power of black magic, but how would he ever manage on his own? He had studied, he had sought it... but to actually FIND it.... there was no chance he'd pass this up, not if it were real... And considering the monstrous creations that had been about, what else could it be. The axe so graciously fixed by Kumo and returned to Amon... hissed with sleeping gas when it finally locked into place again, causing the remaining party members to drop much like stones...

Amon himself out cold~ Fae held on barely, as did Ave, while Prei and Zhalar joined Amon in his old man cat nap. The gas spread and spread, until it began to disappear as quickly as it had poured out - though now there was a disturbing new trend... The shadow of a seated figure in the midst of the smoke. Kumo had been lying in wait all along, knowing what was at stake, he appeared, warning the Wyrmguardians to stay out of his way...

But Fae and Ave weren't stooges, they knew what this man was here for... He was here for the black mage soul stone! Fae stood in his way, and delivered an amazing right hook into Kumo's face... Only to be responded with what could only be described as thundra magnified throughout Fae's being, sending him sprawling away... - And only Ave to fire her arrow, right through his shoulder! As the Auri stumbled he fell into reach of his goal, picking up the Soul Stone that he so desperately desired.... And unleashing fire unto Ave immediately. The call was already out - the Wyrmguardians couldn't let this man escape so easily, not just yet. IN COME! STARR! (Tsuki) AND SEV! (Sevyx) - are riding in to help save the day!

And boy did they. Standing off with Kumo, the group attacked, revealing him for who he was as they ripped away that yellow hood, 'Kumo' the spider among them revealed, he quite rapidly unleashed havoc by attacking Starr, only to have hand and arm sliced apart by the encroaching Sev - followed by chakram from Starr in a combination attack that left the man scrambling for answers on how to preserve the situation.... And so he channeled not one but two spell works worth of Aether from the land about him.... Prei, still dazed, could barely find herself, while Zhalar got up, and decided... Time to settle the score for back at the cave - as he threw a full stone pillar into the auri, sending him topsy turvy!

But this was a trick, for as he lay on the ground he finished the groundwork for his spell - then standing up unleashed it! FIRA FROM THE HEAVENS, the kind of FIRA only a black mage could do... The burns would not last, but this was all a delaying tactic - for Kumo had vanished in the aftermath of his spellwork... Warning the Wyrmguardians that their choice to impede him, would turn his attention to Them... As Kumo's plot to destroy lesser races now involved the whole of the free company, and every Wyrmguardian to go along with it - for now though, they could count themselves safe... Or could they? FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFIND OUT NEXT TIME!

1 note · View note

badgerpride96 · 5 years ago

Text

A Wild West Experience Part 10

Part 10 is here! I actually made a writing tracker in my bullet journal for September to guilt myself into actually doing any writing ever. So here you go! Part 11 will (hopefully) be out soon!

Gio sent Sam on ahead to tell Mary that they had a guest for dinner. Mary graciously tipped him, and put an extra loaf of bread in the oven. She then hurried to the Sean’s butcher shop, for some additional stew meat, and at home browned and added it to the stew already cooking. Her husband had said they would be home at 7, 7:30 at the latest, and it was nigh on 6. She hurried about the house, duster in one hand and her latest design portfolio in the other. Mary was a woman who appreciated order, even if their guest was a literal outlaw who’s last worry would be the state of the house. But Mary cared.

Thus, an hour and a half later, Kelly was ushered into the parlor by Gio to see everything comfortably neat. Her first impression was that she wanted to sit down and stay for ages. Mary had hit an excellent chord, making everything neatly lived in.

“Honey!” Gio called. “We’re here!”

“Right on time.” Mary came sweeping into the parlor. She kissed her husband, and turned to her guest. “It is lovely to meet you, Miss Rose.”

“Kelly, please.” Kelly let her hands be seized and herself be led into the living room.

“Dinner will be ready in only a few minutes, the bread is just cooling. Is beef stew alright?”

Kelly nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, anything but sausage. I see and eat it all day at the Goose.”

Mary smiled, sitting across from her on the armchair. “Oh, I understand. There was a year where my parents’ corn crop simply exploded. I remember telling my sister, ‘if we have one more creamed corn dinner, I shall go to bed hungry!”’

Kelly laughed. “Gio was quite right. You are a woman of fortitude. If I had said that, there would have been a shouting match of unrivaled volume.”

“You shouted at your parents?” Mary said, a somewhat surprised note in her voice.

“Oh yes. We are a volatile family. Everything was always forgiven, and I’m grateful for that fighting. It taught me to hold my ground. Much to my father’s chagrin, I’m sure. He probably thanks the Lord every day I’m an only child.”

Mary made sure Gio was out of hearing range, having gone to change his clothes. “If this is too personal a question, please don’t answer, but do you miss them?”

Kelly smiled. “Ask personal questions, dear. It means you’re interested in me as a person, and I appreciate that. Yes, I miss them dearly. I can’t even write them, as they couldn’t reply. I hope they don’t believe what everyone says about me.”

“You’re close, then?”

“Oh, very. It’s just the three of us, and the dog and cat. Everyone was involved in the other’s business, which you think would be aggravatin. But really, when I married, I would call on them at least three times a week, just to get out of the house. They never liked John anyway, they’d have much preferred someone like...well, just someone more attentive and carin.”

Mary laughed. “My parents were alarmed at how attentive Gio was! They thought for sure he was makin a show of it.”

“Well he certainly isn’t!” Gio had come back in time to defend his honor. “Are we gossipin already?”

“Oh yes we are dreadfully vapid,” Mary assured him. “Nothin but the most scandalous tidbits for us.”

Kelly laughed. “Speakin of tidbits, is there anythin I can do to help with dinner?”

“Well you could help my husband set the table, if you’d be so kind.” Gio helped his wife to her feet, gave her a kiss, and led Kelly over to the silver drawer. He passed her the steel set (the true silver was all antique, family heirlooms. He quite hated the design). Mary and Kelly chattered between the dining room and the kitchen; Gio noticed Mary tactfully did not mention the trial. He assumed she knew of the other sheriff’s arrival, as word had spread like wildfire. Mary asked her what she would like to do as a vocation, if she could. Kelly seemed surprised, but answered that she would like to write; “Books and articles and such. Maybe I could take up art.” She said as Mary pulled the bread from the oven. “But in any case, I would like to stay in Haven. Perhaps move my parents here. My mother would be right at home. My father would certainly enjoy the Goose, he loves a good pub. And he could find work here. He’s a builder.”

“Oh, certainly, folks are fixin up left and right these days.” Mary brought the breadboard out, Gio following with the tureen of stew.

“You both are so kind for havin me.” Kelly said as Gio handed her a steaming bowl.

“No no, we love havin dinner guests. And please forgive me for saying this, but you are the most interestin dinner guest we’ve had in a long time!” Mary quipped. Kelly laughed.

“Hey, Sass is interestin!”

Mary rolled her eyes at her indignant husband. “Oh, Sass. We’ve known him since childhood, we know everythin already!”

“Have you really?” Kelly exclaimed enthusiastically, poised with her wine glass. “Oh tell me everythin! What was he like when he was younger? Was he quite as grouchy?”

“Oh he was positively wild,” Mary said, buttering her slice of bread. “Always running off these two, to some big adventure. Though I must admit, I tagged along more often than not.”

“More often than not, my hat!” Gio cried. “You were the chief architect in those adventures. Why, you built our carts! Our slingshots! This woman you see before you,” he appealed to Kelly, “could hit a fly out of the air at 50 paces with a slingstone! She built a raft for us, and when the springs were no longer full enough to sail, she turned it into a sleigh for haulin supplies for campouts. Sass and I were but her lowly subjects, toilin in the hot hours of the day, lest she sent a stone at our -”

“Now see here, I’ll sling that stew right over your head!” Mary chided as Kelly cried with laughter. Gio threw his hands in the air with an enormous grin. “Do ye remember the time we had to rescue Elek from the schoolhouse before Miss Heather caught him writin dreadful messages on the blackboard?” Mary asked him.

“He didn’t!” Kelly giggled. “Did you succeed?”

“Oh yes, but we had to sneak him out in a cart full of dirty chalk rags! He looked like a ghost for a week, clouds comin off him every time he sneezed!” Mary told the story, Kelly laughing and Gio objecting, and they passed a very pleasant evening.

“Have you always been friends?” Kelly asked them over dessert.

“Sass and I were raised together, and Mary moved to Haven when we were 7 or so.” Gio said. “I never thought I’d be so lucky.”

Mary smiled at her husband, and Kelly sipped the last of her wine, closing her eyes and letting herself enjoy, perhaps only once more, the feeling of safety and peace and softness of friendship.

With the trial looming, Elek released Kelly from her official duties at the Goose and offered the bar as a workspace. In the two days leading to opening statements, the Admiral and Kelly poured over every aspect of the case. There were few photos of the crime scene, but the Admiral said he could still glean information. His list of witnesses included several of Kelly’s relatives, in-laws, a banker, a renowned gunsmith, old friends. A few names had not responded, and some witnesses the Admiral refused to tell her about. They hadn’t even been on the list of addresses he asked her for.

“Trust me, my dear, I have a plan. Now, about this clause of the will…”

The day of the trial, Kelly awoke at 5:00 on the nose. She heard the front door close, and Jones whistle to his horse. She sat on the edge of her bed, looking at the grey frock she’d chosen last night. She felt quite numb. The sound of birds outside, carts going by, seemed dulled in her ears. She wondered for a brief moment if perhaps the universe outside her room had stopped existing, and she was hearing echoes. She fervently hoped it had. But then she remembered Gio smiling at Mary over dinner, Sass laughing at her jokes, Owen’s stories at the bar, the Admiral’s reassuring voice, Persephone’s gentle nudge for more oats. She put on the dress.

As she looped a ribbon around her frenched braid, there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” she said. Gio stepped into her room.

“Oh, good morning,” she said, smiling at him in the glass. “I’m ready. I thought this-” she gestured to herself “would look right.”

“You look lovely. Deceivingly demure.” Gio nodded. “I just came to see if you needed anything.”

She let her smile fade. “No,” she said quietly, “no, I’m not quite sure what I'm feeling right now.” She rubbed her side. Walt had taken the stitches out the day before, but it still ached.

Not for the first time that morning, Gio was glad he was not acing as judge, as he did for small cases. He had grown to like this young woman, and feared for her. She was a good friend for him, even with the unorthodox situation. “Shall we?” Gio opened the door.

“Gio,” she said. He turned back to her. “If I come through this...that is, if I am found innocent and free, I was wonderin...I don’t know where to go and-”

“Kelly,” Gio said, in the most heartfelt interruption, “Haven is, and always will be, lucky to have you, and a home if you have us.”

Kelly made a choked squeaking noise and flung herself at him for a hug. He hugged her back, and laughed. “Oh little lady, I wouldn’t have it any other way. And neither would Mary, nor Sass. We’re here for you, ye know that, don’t ye?”

Kelly nodded into his shoulder. He patted her head and she pulled away, hastily dabbing at her eyes, though smiling now. “Now let’s get some coffee and a good breakfast in ye. You’ll need it.”

The courtroom was packed. Nearly all of Haven had turned out to see the trial. Kelly nervously walked to the council desk. Mary reached out from the rows of seats to squeeze her hand as she passed. The Admiral was waiting at the gate separating the onlookers from the proceedings; he opened it for her and pulled out her chair. Just 20 paces to the left, Thomas and his council leered at her.

“An excellent choice of outfit, my dear.” The Admiral whispered to her. “Very understated.”

“It’s the only thing! Look at all these people! My god, Admiral, less people were at Jesus’s trial!”

The Admiral chuckled as the courthouse usher called out, “All rise for the Honorable Judge Fauna!” A stately, purposeful woman strode into the room. Kelly was unsurprised; the Admiral had told her before the Haven had elected one of the first female judges in the country. Thomas, however, looked livid.

“What is this?!” He burst out. “I will not be handed a verdict by a mere woman pretending to wear the robe!”

The judge, not yet at her bench, turned to him frostily. “Then,” she said in a clear and cool voice, “You are fortunate in that I am no mere woman. I am a judge of American law, certified and with better credentials than any other judge in 5 counties...including your own. You may sit, Sheriff.”

Thomas sat, shaking with rage. Kelly smiled. The judge sat at her bench, smacked her gavel, and commanded, “Let this case, 331, State v. Rose, commence. Opening Statements!”

And with that, the trial began.

–

Buy me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/badgerpride

-–

For more Content, check out @contentcreatorshaven or www.contentcreatorshaven.com! We are a creator collective dedicated to helping each other make it in this very crazy world.

0 notes