#But pretty much he likes to work with gemstones he finds and carve/cut/and such into shapes and designs

[fastfists]

Knuckles is highly skilled in Lapidary. He’ll often gifts any of the gems he has carved and such to others.

[chasingpj]

𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

summary: five ways he says i love you through his actions

warnings: implied nudity and s*x, discusses food and eating and nothing else, i think. oh, and maybe some typos

category: headcanons

love letters/notes

leo is a busy boy

he's always picking up new projects so he can spend all day in his workshop or the forges with his siblings

when you guys live together, he leaves small notes on the refrigerator for you

they're always short, saying simple things like "i love you" and "i miss you already"

for the love letters, he'll leave them in random places for you to find

if you're a big reader, i can see him hiding it between the pages of your book

one day, you pick up your book to read, and the note falls on your lap

it's a love letter written on a piece of blueprint paper; there’s a little bit of oil smudged on the side of it

he got distracted while he was working on something because you were the only thing he could think about

his love letters never fail to make your heart flutter

sometimes they make you cry

he's quite sentimental

leo always tells you he does better writing down his feelings than he is saying it out loud because he can organize his thoughts better

you know that leo has a hard time with that because of how he grew up

when you guys have an argument, which isn't very often, he writes his feelings down on paper

he's always quick to apologize if he did something wrong, and the notes help him form the apology that you deserve, and you're quick to forgive him

once, you were super angry after an argument, so you locked yourself in your shared bedroom

you needed to calm yourself down

the both of you much too angry and stubborn to make a compromise

as your recollecting yourself, 40 minutes in, a folded piece of paper slips from under the door

the letter has teardrop stains, and the ink is slightly smudged

on the paper, it's all his thoughts written out in the best way he can explain them

after reading what he wrote, you quickly deemed that whatever you were fighting about was silly, and you guys made up

you love his spontaneous notes so much that you do them back

you guys have a game of who can find the most creative hiding spot for your notes

one time you found one tapped to the inside of the toilet cover

you found it hilarious

you throw folded post-its with messages in his tool belt

he finds them during the day while he's working on something

after you joined in on the fun, he scatters notes in random places, and every few days, you find a new message hidden somewhere randomly

they're just so sweet; there’s never a time where they don't make you smile

gifts

this is a given

it's not a leo headcanon if gift-giving isn't included

he would make you things like roses from scrap metal to literal furniture

if you have a lot of jewelry, he will make you a cute jewelry box

if you're a big book reader, he'll make you bookcases to support your book collection

he's always giving you little trinkets that he made with leftover materials from projects

he loves making things for you and gets upset when you decide to buy something from ikea instead of asking him

"babe, why would you buy that? I could have just made it for you!"

when he's on his way from returning on his quest, sometimes he'll find something that reminds him of you in a store, and he'll buy it

when he has the money for it, he'd buy you a star :(

says that he spent even more money to buy an extra bright star

because "you're the sun in my universe"

brb gonna cry

also, he'd gift you a bond bracelet

you know, those bracelets where every time you tap on it, it makes the other person's bracelet vibrate

the both of you get anxious when one of you goes on quests, so the bracelets bring the other person who's at home comfort

because when you tap back, at least he knows you're alive and vice versa

one of the best gifts you've ever received from him was your engagement ring

he made it himself

he took so much care and effort into making it

imagine leo forging your wedding ring himself??? i'm in spain with no s

he was so nervous that you wouldn't like the style, so he had piper casually bring it up to you

piper was so nonchalant about it that you didn't even think twice about the question

the ring has the prettiest gemstone or diamond (whatever you prefer)

you cried so hard when he told you he made it himself that you couldn't even say yes to his proposal clearly

he makes both of your wedding bands too

he carves a saying that's dear to the both of you on the inside

this is nothing to do with anything but imagine when you guys have kids, he makes animals out of pipe cleaners for them i'm gonna cry, brb pt 2

overall, whether he makes the present himself or not, he puts a lot of effort and care into it

every gift has a meaning and a place dear to your heart

cooking for you

leo is canoningly a good cook

he loves cooking for you

and you love eating what he makes

he's usually busy on the weekdays, so he cooks on the weekends

you guys always joke that he'd be the cutest househusband

you got him an apron for Christmas as a joke gift one year, and he wears it all the time

there's something so charming about him wearing an apron with a funny saying like "Mr. Good Lookin is Cookin" or with like a ripped out shirtless guy in front of it

you giggle every time you see him wearing it

oh, no matter how many times you've seen it, it's still so bizarre when he takes out hot trays from the oven with his BARE hands

everything he makes tastes amazing

he makes all kinds of food and is always trying something new

if you tell him what you’re craving, he’ll cook it for you

once he woke you up to ask if you wanted ribs… it was 3 am but like, of course, you wanted some

unless you're vegetarian or vegan, sorry, HAHA

often though, he does make Mexican food

it reminds him of when his mom was alive

he always has some story to share

every time he makes caldo de pollo (chicken soup), he always talks about how his mother would make it in the summer and that when he was little, he would always complain about eating hot soup in hot weather

you know he doesn't notice his constant telling of this story, but you don't mind

it's so bittersweet when he talks about his mom

through the cooking of his traditional food, you feel closer to him and his late mother

the memories he shares with you makes your eyes sting with tears

especially when leo says how much he wishes that esperanza could have met you

sorry, that was a little emo

also, leo usually wakes up earlier than you

he knows you're a sleepyhead, so he'll cook breakfast for you

so that when you're running around in the morning trying to get dressed and your things together

you never leave the house hungry because there's always a tupperware filled with breakfast, and if he has enough time, he'll fix you something to take for lunch too

if you come home late from work or school, he'll make dinner even if he's tired to surprise you

so many times you've come home from a shitty day at work or school, and the small table where you guys eat your meals is all set up with your favorite food

leo greets you by peeking his head into the hallway from the kitchen, tossed curls, cheerful brown eyes, and a bright grin

"I hope you're hungry," he says, despite knowing that you are hungry

and then you guys talk and laugh together over a delicious meal

compliments

leo's really observant

he notices when you’re in a bad mood, even if you try not to show it

he also notices when you change little things about your appearance

if you get a haircut or you get your nails done, he'll comment on it right away

especially outfits

if you buy something new, he'll complement it

imagine standing in front of the mirror, looking at yourself in your new outfit

leo comes behind you, his hands coming around your waist

he'll pepper kisses on your neck, a soft hum leaving his lips as he meets your eyes in the mirror

"is this new, mi amor?" he asks, hands running up your sides

once you affirm that it is a new dress or shirt, he'll smile and tell you how beautiful you look in it

maybe says he'd rather see it off of you wink wink

there's never a day where he doesn't compliment you

he thinks you're the prettiest person in the world

you've caught him staring at you lovingly plenty of times

he's just asking himself how did he manage to get someone as beautiful and amazing as you

you always squirm under his gaze and playfully ask what is he looking at

"you're so pretty, mi amor. I can't help it."

AHHH!!!!

alongside the endearment of mi amor, he'd always call you bonita and hermosa

you're so sweet to him, and he can't help but tell you how much you mean to him every chance he gets

surprises

leo is an acts of service kind of guy

i think he'll spontaneously do things to make you happy

if you've been busy studying for finals or just beat up from a day at work

he'll draw you a bath

or he'll cut up some fruit for you and leave it at your desk

he randomly buys you flowers

he never needs an occasion to buy your flowers

it'll be a regular tuesday, leo just happened to walk past a store with flowers displayed in the front, and he thought about how bright your smile would be if he showed up with a bouquet

I feel like he's pretty introverted, enjoys being at home with you

the both of you are pretty broke for a while, so a lot of dates were at home

leo made the most of it

you guys will have nice dinners at home

he'll set the table nicely, set the mood with candles

he'll redecorate the space so well you feel like you're at an actual restaurant

and of course, his food is amazing

breakfast in bed is another thing he'd do for you unsolicited

especially if you guys had a looong night wink wink

you're woken up by his still groggy voice, fluttering kisses on your cheeks

you open your eyes to see he's set a tray with your favorite breakfast on top of the bed

the two of you will eat breakfast together, which usually leads to you staying in bed for the rest of the day

just enjoying the warm cocoon your sheets create around the both of you

overall, he's super observant and caring, and he goes the extra mile to make sure you're happy because he knows you do the same

anyways, does anyone know where I can get a leo?

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @Slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky

[oriigirii]

The Brothers reacting to an MC who likes to collect... rocks?

It was certainly a strange hobby to behold, but there were more than meets the eye within these rocks! If you crack them open they often hold such a wonderful design, and on the rare occasion they can probably even hide a geode or two, regardless, you were very passionate for these things and it just so happens that it catches some of the brother’s attention.

(A/N: Ill be doing 2 at the time for now UwU  

Warnings: none! 

Reader: Gender Neutral!)

~ 눈_눈 Lucifer ~

* Lucifer always kept an eye on you ever since you got to Devildom

* Cuz of this, he was probably the first to notice your... strange addiction

* He saw how you always seem to stop on your tracks to pick up a shiny smooth stone lying on the side of the gates infront of the HoL while he walked home with you.

* Or how you’d snatch a few from the gardens on an early Sunday morning when you think that everyone was still asleep

* Since it was harmless enough, he never really bothered to call you out on it 

* Lowkey does find it cute how something so small can already make you so happy, such an easy-to-please cutie you are

* It wasn’t a problem till he was told that you seem to be arriving late more often for your classes 

* At first he thought that maybe you were simply caught up in some mess from his brothers again 

* Maybe perhaps Belphie snuck you off to sleep again than go to class 

* But no, when he’d confronted you he was pretty surprised, and at the same time, confused at your answer.

* “There were these cool looking red geodes I accidentally found on the back, b-but I mustve dropped them at some point when Mammon and I were rushing to class...so I’ve been trying to look for more of them for my collection... Sorry...”

*To be fair you did look pretty apologetic for it and really didnt mean to botch up your schedule, but still.

* He lets you go pretty easily, with a small lecture, but thats about it. 

* Although you never did stop looking for that geode, you even pulled Beel to help with promise of a homemade cake to try and cover as much ground, but nothing.

* You came home that day a little defeated

* but much to your surprise when you reached your room, a small box was waiting outside your door and inside was none other than the beautiful red geode youve been so desperate to look for. And... well, you didnt have to guess who was kind enough to give it to you.

* The next day, you do go over to thank him properly for the help, and explain that you had been extremely captivated with that specfic geode because of how it reminds you of the first born’s eyes.

* This boi is highkey stunned but tryna make it lowkey though (pride 100)

 * Definitely amused and flattered. 

* From now on, he does continue to give you geodes to add to your collection, and would even accompany you on your little endeavors if his work load isnt too unbearing. Away from the eyes of his brothers of course.

* Hed definitely want to seek the perfect geode too that reminds him of you in return that he can decorate on his desk while hes working. Even better, maybe have the geodes crafted to a perfect ring that you two can wear.

-------------

~ ᕙ(`▽´)ᕗ Mammon ~

* Not like youre complaining either

* Today was another weekend, and weekends mean you guys get to hang out!  

* Not like you two were ever seperated in the first place anyways, he’s like an octopus that just wont let go 

* Anyways, He casually enters your room, phone in hand as he scrolls through various articles featuring his modelling work, he was gonna show off as usual, afterall, this man LIVES for your praise.

* “Oi! (Y/N) Check this out! They ranked me number 1 on the most handsome model in Devildom! And I didn’t cheat the system this ti---”

* You had been busy in your cabinet when he walked in, so you didnt have time to warn him of your mess on your bed.

* Hence why, when he was starting to brag about his latest achievement, it was immediately cut off by a pained yelp.

* Mammon, too busy on his DDD, didnt notice the shiny geodes and stones you had left on your bed to arrange for your new dsplay case, and because of this, (his dumbass) plopped on the bed, landing right on the sharp edges of the beautiful rocks.

* It wasnt fun.

* You had rushed to help him as he started stroking his back from the sting, he was a demon so he was pretty sturdy, but cmon, landing on a buncha hard rocks was still not good.

* You did rush to go get him an ice pack for his poor back, and when you came back, he seemed to have been healed almost immediately as he stares at your collection with a big shine on his own eyes, they can rival the geodes at this point.

* “(Y/N)! Why didn’t you tell me you had these? Don’t yknow how much these would sell? Hell, I can even probably sell them for an even higher price!”

* The rolling of your eyes was very intense that Diavolo could feel it from his castle and you pushed that ice pack on his face to make him stop.

* You did make it very clear that if he ever decides to try and get any of these stones, you were gonna be snitching him to Beel for eating his pudding the other day (You wouldn’t though would you?)

* Still that does shut down his money making plans, but he does question you for it, why hoard these valuable items when you could make thousands of grimm for it? You even seem to have a talent for finding these too, it seems like a huge waste, and so you proceed to explain to him your love for these shiny geodes.

* First image in his head was you being a relative to a crow, or you being a crow in general, because if anything, thats what his little crows do, they pass him shiny stuff they find along the day, of course theyre not as extravagant as these geodes, but it doesnt negate the fact you definitely have crow energy, and hes so down for it. His love for you just grew tenfold.

* But who knew it can grow further? Because you eventually explain to him that the geodes you collected, or the simple stones you had, all were special because all of them hold a special memory. One of the smoother stones you had was the same stone you used to display your mom’s favorite rose garden, it even had your initials that you scrapped on when your were 5, another was a geode you found on your field trip at the human world and so on.

* Mammon definitely had his attention to you the entire time, this boy is smitten and he just loves hearing you talk about each one, he grows a small appreciation for them now and he can understand why you wouldn’t want to sell them away. But then he noticed you reach for a much cleaner, tear drop looking geode, it was a blue-yellow mix.

* You explain to him that this was your first geode found when you went here in Devildom, the first you also carved as it was more jagged than this when you found it, and of course, you chose to keep it cause it reminded you for your first man.

* Mammon was so moved,and he was just sitting there, red as a strawberry and mouth open like a fish out of water, but hes not the only one because you too were blushing like an idiot as you held the special rock.

* He does end up trying to act his typical ways, but he was nothing but a stuttering mess, and much to his embarassment, he was also tearing up.

* Please hug him, he needs it, he just cant help but feel so flattered that you dedicated a geode for him and he felt that pride and love swell to incredible levels, you definitely have him yearning for you even more.

* Next time you go out to seek more geodes here in Devildom, he might just come with you along with his army of crows, and even cuter, his crows would just hand you special rocks every now and then.

* This boy might just start his own collection now thanks to you, but most his geodes will just be dedicated to you

----------

A h h h hope you guys like it! I know its a weird premise, but I honestly do love gemstones and stuff lol, also yes i did indulge too much on Mammon, hush,but yeah, ill do more of the others soon!

(Art by me!)

[themadauthorshatter]

OKAY!!!

You've seen my take on Toppat!Charles, so what's my take on Toppat!Henry?

First thing's first, I want to address that Henry joins the Toppats, gets arrested in The Wall, and meets Ellie, BUT the route he takes is more like The Betrayed. What changes is that when he runs past Ellie, who overheard that he was the leader of the Toppat Clan and wanted to make sure it was true. He meets back up with her and not only confirms what she heard, but also that he stole the Tunisian Diamond and Norwegian Emerald before getting arrested.

Ellie barks that he must be confused because she stole it first, or was about to before she got overwhelmed by law enforcement.

Henry still lets her out, honor among inmates, and they escape, though the confrontation against Dmitri has more hits to it with more kicking and punching and hair pulling before a head slam and choke hold by Dmitri that's stopped by Ellie with a stop sign.

Cue the Toppats going into the orbital and having to fight off the government, but let's add some tension and get a little shippy in here.

And let's give the Valiant Hero himself time to shine😉

When Henry and Right are picked up by Ellie, a certain pilot tackles Henry down and the two start to tussle.

Ellie goes to shot him, but Henry gestures for her and Right to get the rocket, and he'll meet them there.

Charles and Henry stand up and stand off before Henry races toward his old acquaintance and gets a hard, military grade kick into the stomach that sends him crashing back into the dirt; he's still sore from his fight with Dmitri.

Charles goes to cuff him, but Henry more pushes him away with his legs rather than kick him before noticing and going for a gun on the ground. Charles pulls him away from it, though, and takes it, firing two warning shots and aiming it at Henry, who's moved to his back and holds up his hands to show he has no weapons. Charles, ever the trained soldoer, only holds his gun to shoot, but then lowers it, as it sets in that Henry is defenseless and seems to be injured; courtesy of Dmitri.

He re-aims when Henry gets stupid and asks, "You're not really going to shoot your friend, are you?"

Soldiers are arresting Toppats and the rocket is starting to launch, so it leads to a perfect opportunity for Henry when Charles gets distracted by the takeoff.

Henry kicks Charles twice, once near his feet to knock him down and once right in the face to knock him out.

Like in the ending Toppat King, he hijacks a tank and launches himself into the orbital station, where he is welcomed with open arms as the leader.

As he and Reginald go to join the others, Henry talks about a heist targeting another priceless gem, but it will have to wait until they're in space and everything's under control. Reginald, admittedly, is more than happy to wait.

Back on Earth, Charles is shaken awake by Galeforce.

"Charles? Charlie!? Come on, son, wake up! Wake up!"

Charles groans and pushes himself up, saying, "I'm-I'm fine, General. I'm okay."

Charles looks at where the rocket used to be and remembers how he was extremely close to arresting Henry, the leader.

"Sorry, General. I almost had him."

Galeforce only helps Charles to his feet and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You did your best. Besides-" Glaefoce looks up to the sky, Charles's gaze following. "Something tells me they'll be back, one way or another."

Charles is reassured, but is still a little discouraged.

It doesn't help that when some other soldiers ask why he didn't take the shot over the next week, all he can say is that he was about to, but got distracted by the rocket taking off; it was much louder than he thought it would be.

Galeforce gets their attention back and says they need to be extra alert now in order to find an opening, which means keeping contact with anyone who has anything of value to the Toppats.

Charles is sort of paying attention, but it is clear to twins Calvin and Konrad, who sit on his left and right respectively, that he's not really there, ESPECIALLY when his eyebrows arch upward and eyes widen.

Calvin, with a nod from his brother, raises his hand and gets Galeforce's attention. "Hey, General? Maybe Charles has an idea."

The audible cue does not perturb Charles in any way, so Konrad has to tap his shoulder.

Cue some visible confusion from Charles and some annoyance from the other soldiers when he asks, "Sorry, what were we all talking about? With an opening?"

"The twins said you have an idea," Rupert replies as evenly as he can.

Charles turns to both twins, who nod and give an 'okay' to share what he's thinking, but Charles shakes his head.

"It's a stupid. I was just thinking."

"We're open to just about anything, Charlie," Galeforce affirms. "Any idea is a good idea, at this point."

Charles takes a breath and shrugs. "I mean, I'm just grabbing at straws, but maybe we should try targetting their next heist location. Like, some kind of museum somewhere?"

"But there's thousands of museums in the states alone," the twins say in unison, a habit that riles up Rupert and leads to some soldiers trying not to laugh.

Charles continues more to Calvin and Konrad, "What about ones that have an exhibit like the Tunisian diamond or Norwegian emerald? Or maybe even jewelry shops that have a large gem just for display? It's stuff like that that'll get the Toppats' attention."

The soldiers all muse aroumd, mumbling in agreement, before one asks, "Where do we go first, then?"

Charles scratches the back of his head and shrugs again. "I dunno. Where another giant gemstone is being held? Last I heard, someone found a pretty big sapphire." He turns to the Konrad and asks quietly, "Why even carve it that big anyway, then it's useless?"

"Alright," Galeforce calls. "Find out where that sapphire's at, and keep yoir eyes peeled for any other oversized gem or anything priceless."

The soldiers head out, leaving the room, but Galeforce isn't exactly finished yet.

"Charlie, can I talk to you for a second?"

The twins whisper, "We'll mourn you," as Charles approaches the general, giving them both 'cut it out' eyes.

They leave and it's just Charles and Galeforce alone.

"You... wanted to talk?"

"I did. Charlie, you've been quiet since the toppats got into orbit. Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah," Charles replies, with a shrug and with his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You're being a little harder on yourself than usual."

Charles nods. "Yeah. Sorry, I... I've got something to do," he says as he leaves hastily; no disrespect to Galeforce, he just doesn't like bringing up the orbital station. He almost runs into a higher up, apologizing as he continues leaving, but this higher up is Captain H.J. Canterbury, who's heard about Charles's near pristine reputation and the failed prevention of the Toppat launch.

He gives Charles the stink eye behind his back before approaching Galeforce with a scowl.

"I thought that kid was the most experienced on the field. Why'd he screw up stopping the launch?"

"Put him in the air and he's damn near invincible, but leave him on the ground and you'll be disappointed. The kid's meant for the air, not the ground, Captain."

Canterbury scoffs and takes another look back at Charles, who's almost left the base entirely now. "You're too easy on him. I get he's like a son to you, but that doesn't exactly mean you can coddle him for ruining the entire operation."

For context, Charles HAS been harder on himself since the mission. He's been training much harder in combat, in using firearms, and in piloting. He's still very aware, not forgetting to take his ADD medicine, but he looks much more stiff when he stands and walks because he's sore from training the day before; he knows he screwed up, and he's trying to make sure it doesn't happen again.

"I don't coddle him. I have done a lot for the kid, but that isn't one of them. If he needs space, I'll let him have it. He's beating himself up about it enough already. Don't make it worse."

"Don't let him screw up again," Canterbury rumbles.

The two men have a glare off before the Captain leaves, Galeforce tipping his head back and sighing once he's gone.

Cut to Charles sitting idly in his car and honking the horn repeatedly as he zones out(probably thinking about The Beatles), until he gets a knock on the window.

There stand the twins Bukowski, who gesture for him to roll down his window so thwy can talk, which he does.

"What's up? If this is about training, we can rematch tomorrow."

"Tempting, but we've kinda figured out we don't want our asses kicked," Calvin slightly jokes, even though he rubs his shoulder, where Charles threw him Jiu Jitsu style.

"We were just wondering if you wanted to go out and grab a bite, since we kinda threw you in the spot back there," Konrad asks, more than happy to plan a victory against Charles with his brother during lunch, and just wanting lunch with the bastard.

Charles gives a smile and shakes his head. "Thanks for the offer, guys, really, but I have to pass. It's been a really long day."

The two "Aaaaaw," sadly at him like little kids.

"Hey, I'll be back tomorrow."

"The General told us to tell you you're off tomorrow," they whine.

Charles's jaw drops to the ground. "What!?"

The twins take turns explaining, picking up where the other left off, starting with Calvin and continuing with Konrad:

"He says you're working too hard, which isn't a bad thing at all, really, it just- well..."

"He just thinks you're being too hard on yourself with what happened. I mean, it's weird because you were pretty close to arresting him, but HE knocked YOU out, so it's not your fault."

"Yeah! And that headset can only block out ao much noise; you were standing next to a rocket that was starting to take off!"

Charles leans back in his seat, absolutely speechless at the forced day off he has; he's tried talking to get out of something Galeforce told him to do once, but it resulted in him getting yelled at and made to clean the showers for a week.

"You good?" Calvin asks as he taps Charles on the shoulder to get his attention.

Charles nods slowly before nodding quickly. "Yeah," he replies, though it's in that reply you give when you're paying attention, but not ACTUALLY paying attention. When he repiles more naturally, "Yeah," he's back and has processed what the twins said.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Guess I really need time off."

"If you want, feel free to give us a call tomorrow. In case you rethink a free meal."

Charles narrows his eyes and smirks. "You two just want to cheat in training when I get back."

"How dare you," Calvin gasps as Konrad groans, "How did you know!?"

Either way, they all bid their farewells and, once the twins are gone and out of ear shot, Charles leans against the steering wheel and groans loudly, almost screaming; it'll help him in the end, but he's not looking forward to a mandatory day off.

He sighs and sits idly a little longer before relenting and driving home, actually play The Beatles to distract himself.

CUT TO HENRY ON THE ORBITAL STATION!!!

Henry is staring out at Earth, which is essentially his playground now that he can go just about anywhere and steal just about anything.

But he can't stop thinking about a certain government pilot, especially how said pilot could have shot him, but instead lowered his gun.

Call it whatever, Henry can tell there was some kind of reason for Charles not taking the shot.

As he stares and ponders, Ellie strides in and hands him a set of files from the government. "You said you wanted to see these?"

Henry accepts the file with a nod to say, 'thank you.' It's larger than he'd thought, but that just means more to learn.

Ellie reads the first page over his shoulder, and the two are surprised to see how many pictures were taken of Charles for his ID; the standard pose for a military/government ID is an expressionless face and a straight back, so they're a little surprised to see him smiling and laughing like a fool with his shoulders curled toward his ears. Even his most soldier-esque picture, the one actually on his ID, still shows he's hiding a smile, and most likely the urge to laugh.

It shows he's 26, he's got ADD, he's not just a pilot, he's possibly the best pilot, having passed a flight simulator at nine, got in the air and completed a mission and 15, and is basically a powerhouse. He doesn't really have a criminal record, as long as you don't count laughing too much as a crime, or being too good at his job.

"Guess we have someone to keep an eye on now," Ellie muses. "If we're in the air, that bastard's probably going to shoot is down."

Henry smirks and shakes his head. 'If he wanted us gone, we wouldn't be here right now.'

Ellie furrows her brow and then she grins. "Think we should expect him at the next heist?"

Henry takes another look at Earth and nods at Ellie.

'If he's there, he's off limits from anyone else. He's mine.'

Ellie holds up her hands, stating, "If you say so, he's all yours. Just be careful, if you do see him again, okay?"

Henry's smirk drops at the genuine concern on her face and turns to her, nodding as he says, "I will."

They go their seperate ways, Ellie going to check on how the other Toppats are adjusting, while Henry heads to his room to study on Charles, admitting that he's looking forward to when they meet again.

CUT TO CHARLES!!!!

It's the next day, and Charles, up early and dressed from forgetting his day off, is currently doing push-ups because he's bored.

And in the middle of a conversation:

"I mean, I get he's worried," he says through grunts as he continues his push-ups, "but I really don't think I need a day off right now. The Toppats are in orbit, Henry got away, and now everyone's convinced to go on a wild goose chase for a large sapphire." He stops and alternates to do crunches instead. "Maybe everyone's right. I should've just arrested Henry, but the rocket still launched with the previous leader and right hand man on board. It would've been pointless. And that rocket was really loud!"

There's a knock on the door and it makes Charles yelp and jump out of his skin. He wipes himself off a little, takes his medicine, and throws on a jacket before answering to find literal Dad of the year material Hubert Galeforce at the door.

"Oh, uh... Good morning, General."

"Morning, Charlie. May I come in?"

Charles sidesteps and nods, and Galeforce walks in.

"I heard your conversation. I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"No. I... I was just talking," he says with a side glance to the plants he keeps in his house, both living green ones and wire ones bent in the shapes of trees that took him FOREVER to do, but remimd him to just sit and get something done once in a while.

While Charles quickly leaves for a second to toss the towel he used into the hamper, Galeforce notes the rather intricate wire trees, especially one that looks more like a weeping willow than a bonsai.

"When did you make this new one?"

"A while ago. About a month, I think. I finished it last night, though," Charles calls before rejoining Galeforce. "So, uh, what are you here for? Just so you know, I did have breakfast."

Galeforce fights a chuckle at how sharp Charles has become and the two sit down on the couch.

"What's on your mind?"

Charles brushes it off. "It's nothing. I just..." When Charles is completely silent, Galeforce only watches him carefully.

"Don't try telling me nothing's wrong. You've been training yourself sick and then some. If you keep overworking your engine, you'll crash and burn."

Charles keeps his eyes on the floor when he asks, "Was it... really a good idea to try using Henry against the Toppats?"

Galeforce sighs and rubs his head.

"Knowing what I do now, no. If anything, throwing Henry to the Toppats only made them stronger."

Charles gulps and clenches his fists. "I kinda hoped he wouldn't join them."

Galeforce quickly turns to Charles, who keeps his eyes on the ground.

"I mean, I feel like we sort of asked for it, because we kidnapped him, but... I don't know, I just... Part of me hoped he'd see it as a 'lesser of two evils' thing. Sometimes good people to bad things, or bad things happen to good people or whatever. Maybe I was just hoping for the best."

Galeforce puts a hand on Charles's shoulder, which gets him to make eye contact.

"You couldn't shoot him, could you?"

With a lump in his throat, Charles shakes his head. "He wasn't armed. Even before all this, I guess part of me wanted a friend and not just a partner for a mission. Guess that part took over, too."

Galeforce can only remain silent, though he does grip Charles's shoulder a little more.

"If I see him again, I won't hold back like last time. If I have a chance to arrest him, I'll take it."

Charles is caught right off guard when he feels Galeforce ruffle his hair, who nods at him.

"Just don't get yourself killed, Charlie."

"I won't," Charles replies, after a second of silence.

Charles's eyes roam to the window, where he can just make out the Toppat orbital station.

On the orbital station, Henry stares out a large window at Earth and smirks at the idea of meeting Charles again.

If this was an anime or TV show, we'd get something like a split screen of the two, Charles looking slightly up and Henry looking slightly down, the split screens and editing making it appear as though they are meeting eyes with Charles ready to fight and Henry looking forward to when they see each other again.

AND THAT IS TOPPAT!HENRY PART 1! Henry and Charles are going to be playing roles much like Will and Hannibal in the show Hannibal; even though we see more of Will, Hannibal is also the main character.

Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this first part and thank you for reading!!

[a-world-in-grey]

Galahdian Gemstones

@secret-engima because headcanons (and I’d like your input on gemstone selections). Two sections - headcanons on Clan Stones, and some history stuff.

-Clan Stones.

-Like Clan Colors, each Clan has a gemstone or pair of gemstones that identify them. These stones are worn in their Clan Braid, usually the first bead in the braid (though some Clans wear theirs at the end, like the Ostium joiners or the Furia), followed by personal beads.

-Certain Clans do share one of their Stones, but each Clan has at least one of their stones unique to them and them alone that serves as their main Clan Stone. So, from the top to the bottom (not including pictures because this post is long enough):

-Altius: Chalcedony/Sunstone. There aren’t very many grey gemstones, but grey Chalcedony is very pretty, especially when banded (striped). For an orange stone, I headcanon sunstone because of my hcs of them being blood of Ifrit’s Blessed, and because it’s a very pretty gem. I headcanon sunstone being their main Stone, because they are one of two Clans that have Orange as a Clan Color. (Second choice for the Altius grey stone would be grey moonstone, without the blue sheen, to contrast the sunstone.)

-Arra: Alexandrite. The Arra are one of the Clans to have a single stone that represents both of their Clan Colors, as alexandrite (though in-verse it’s probably called something different) changes color from green to purple depending on the type of lighting. A suitably subtle gem for a subtle Clan.

-Bellum: Carnelian/Dumortierite. Dumortierite is a pretty blue stone that I chose because of the name - dumortier is a French surname meaning death, though the in-verse name is likely different. Carnelian is their main stone since they are the only Clan with Red as a Clan Color (primary or secondary), and every Bellum is willing to Throw Hands at the drop of a hat.

-Bestia: Chrysoberyl. Again, probably a different name in-verse, but this pretty stone comes in both yellow and green. The yellow is likely their main Stone.

-Canere: Sapphire. Specifically color changing sapphire, which like alexandrite, changes color in different light. Color changing sapphire changes between blue and purple.

-Carduus: Moonstone. Blue moonstone is a silvery-grey stone with a blue sheen, representing both the Blue and Grey colors of the Carduus, as well as harkening back to their original Secondary Color of Silver. (My second choice for them would be Labradorite, which is a dark-grey stone with flashes of blue and green, though blue is the most common and what the Carduus would reserve for their beads.)

-Furia: Pearl. Pearls come in a variety of natural colors, though as a rule they tend to be fairly pale. I headcanon that the Furia are the only Clan to wear pearls as hair beads, and few outside the Furia wear pearls as jewelry, most of them being Lazarus, Arra, Praesidium, and the occasional Canere. Furia wear orange and blue pearls as their Clan Stones, and make quite the profit selling the white and pink pearls to the Mainland. 

-Khara: Purple/Yellow Jade. Purple jade (known as Turkiyenite) is only 40-60% jadeite and so not technically classified as such. However, this is fiction so we can do whatever, and it’s very pretty. The purple jade is their main Stone.

-Lazarus: Citrine/Quartz. Quartz comes in a variety of colors, including grey. Citrine would be their main Stone. (Alternate grey stone would be chalcedony, which they could feasibly share with the Altius, since chalcedony is really common.)

-Ornata: Lapis Lazuli. While mostly blue, lapis lazuli is known for its gold flecks. (While I really like this stone, I know it’s not necessarily a perfect fit, so another option could be topaz - which comes in both yellow and blue varieties.)

-Ostium: Tanzanite/Onyx. The Ostium are one of the only clans that place their Clan Stone at the end of their braid - the black onyx joiners are the hallmark of the Ostium Clan. Onyx also comes in green, which is what Ostium Braincells wear to designate that they’ve got an Ulric to cluck after.

-Praesidium: Azurite/Malachite. These two stones often form near each other and mixed together, resulting in a pretty and vibrant blue and green stone. Praesidium are the only Clan to have two Clan Stones they are known by, with azurite and malachite being worn in equal amounts alongside the azurite/malachite mixes.

-Tibiae: Quartz/Emerald. Contrary to what one might think, emerald is actually this Clan’s main Stone. Because that Clan needs a warning label, and it’s the only one they are going to give you. (Other options for green stones could be chrysoprase or peridot. Could also use chalcedony or grey moonstone for grey stones.)

-Ulric: Onyx/Charoite. Ulrics share onyx with the Ostium, the latter wearing it after picking up the Black Clan Color from the Ulrics. However, the Ulric main Stone is charoite. (An alternate purple stone is amethyst, but I think charoite is prettier and generally prefer semi-precious stones to precious stones.)

-(Astrum: Obsidian/Heliodore. Differing from the other Clans in that their Stones come from the Lucian mainland. Their main Stone is their obsidian joiner, similar to the Ostium.)

-History headcanons!

-Galahd is rich in gemstones and metals. Much like real-life Myanmar, Galahd has just about every kind of gemstone imaginable, with the exception of diamonds (which Galahdians don’t really wear anyway).

-As such, before the Burning it is very common for every Galahdian to wear precious and semi-precious stones for their braids and jewelry.

-Now, I headcanon that before Lucis folded Galahd into the Empire, mining was not a huge business in Galahd. Oh, it was definitely a viable profession, but the Clans didn’t use a lot of gemstones, and generally weren’t picky about what they did mine up. The best quality went to making beads, and the rest went to jewelry.

-After being ‘conquered’ by Lucis, well. Wealthy Lucians were highly interested in the ‘untapped resources’. Now, depending on how dark you want to take things, this could go a couple different ways. We’ll start with the least nasty, because why not.

-First possibility is that Galahd is able to dictate the trade of Galahdian gemstones. They present a selection for sale, and the Lucian traders buy what they want. Trying to pressure the Galahdians into offering more/higher quality Does Not Happen, because the first attempts are shut down hard by the Galahdians and the Crown slaps down any armed hostilities from breaking out because We Do Not Fight The Jungle Children FOR THE LOVE OF THE SIX. This likely results in some resentment from the Lucians and wariness from the Galahdians, but nothing too drastic.

-Second possibility, still fairly light, but a bit darker, is that the Lucians’ offers for high quality gems drives local prices up, making it harder for Galahdians to sell/buy their own gems. As such, local gems become much more scarce, until they are almost exclusively reserved for Clan Beads. This scenario is going to breed a fair amount of resentment from the Galahdians towards the Lucian mainland, specifically the nobility/wealthy.

-Third possibility, which is very dark, is that Lucian corporate interests manage to get a foothold in Galahd, and begin large mining operations - either with their own Lucian workers or with locals. Lucian workers would be paid more, lured by a promise of making money, but clashes between the workers and locals would be higher. Galahdian workers would likely be paid far less, and oh boy would that breed it’s own resentment, but there would be less possible conflict between Galahdians and Lucians, other than overseers management. This is going to breed a lot of resentment, to the point of possible outright rebellion from the Galahdians.

-Then we have Niflheim occupying Galahd. And things get a whole lot worse. Because Niflheim is only going to see the potential profit from Galahd’s gemstone resources and won’t care how they get it.

-In the darkest scenario, take that third possibility, and crank it up to eleven. Large scale environmental destruction, forced work in the mines, and pittance pay. Exploitation at its worst. Galahdians likely had to hide their Stones or have them confiscated by Niflheim overseers and sold overseas, and you can bet the Nifs would dig up the Galahdian dead just to get at those beads too. The Galahdians wouldn’t be allowed to keep any of the stones they mined either. Not even the inferior quality stone unsuited for jewelry - Niflheim would have dumped it in the sea just to spite them.

-(Look, there’s a reason Galahd hates Mors for pulling the Wall and leaving them to Niflheim’s ‘mercy’. There’s a reason the Galahdian refugees can’t go home, even after almost twenty years post-Burning. There’s a reason so many refugees left, even before the Burning. Why so many chose to fight for a mainlander king. Why so many Betrayed Regis when he surrendered to Niflheim. Why Luche and the others took Niflheim’s deal.)

-During the Occupation, there was probably resistance and rebellion everywhere Niflheim turned, until they decided to cut their losses and Burn it all. (Perhaps they were losing too many workers. Or perhaps they’d exhausted the mines and didn’t care to look for new ones.)

-In Lucis, any refugees likely had to sell their Stones just to survive. Those that didn’t wouldn’t be allowed to wear them if they lived in Insomnia, because of the Sumptuary Laws or for fear of being arrested on charges of theft. (And even if the charges were dropped, many of the stones confiscated as ‘evidence’ were coincidentally ‘lost’.) For those that lost their Stones, replacing them is near impossible - either they are too expensive, impossible to find, or in most cases both.

-Which is when carved and painted wooden beads become the norm.

[sithsecrets]

A Matter of Expediency - Part IV

After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

---

Part 4

2.6K words

Mentions: verbal arguing, physical fighting, swearing, vulgar insults

---

For the second time in a week, you find yourself surrounded by your ladies as you soak in the bathtub. It’s eerily quiet now, quieter than it was when all of you first did this.

Sabe’s bathing you again, more out of nervous need to do something than anything, you think, but everyone else sits in silence. You let her clean you, unsure of where you should start with all of this. You feel like your conversation with the Supreme Leader occurred days ago, yet he’s only been gone for less than an hour.

“Your ring is ridiculously big,” Sabe tells you, teasing in a rather subdued way as she run soap over your left hand.

“You’re just jealous that no man’s every given you a piece of space itself,” Joon counters, sticking her tongue out at Sabe when Sabe shoots daggers her way.

Joon’s smart remark cuts the tension, but Helda’s innocent little giggle breaks it entirely. You finally crack a smile, eternally grateful that all of your friends love to poke fun at one another.

“It’s not a piece of space,” you say, looking down at the prettiness of your ring. “It’s a gemstone. Not even the First Order is capable of capturing the stars.”

Sabe rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning as she does it. “One man buys her a piece of jewelry and now she fancies herself a poet.”

Lydia snorts at that, recoiling when you splash her with a bit of water for it.

“I love my ring,” you declare evenly, sinking down further into the water. Sabe pinches your side, grinning mischievously.

“Yes, but do you love Kylo Ren?” she teases. You splash her too, managing to douse the front of her dress fairly well.

Helda laughs at that, and you have to grab Sabe’s arm to stop her from attacking the girl with a splash of her own.

“I think that’s enough,” Lydia says, moving behind you to wet and wash your hair. Her touch is relaxing, and you let your eyes slip closed as she massages your scalp.

“What did the two of your talk about, besides your little piece of the galaxy?” It’s as close as Lydia will come to a jest, but you know that she’s far more concerned about the Supreme Leader’s treatment of you.

“Where he got the rings from, the wedding,” you answer, casual even as you remember how you nearly stormed out of the room when Kylo insinuated that he wasn’t excited for the ceremony.

“That’s all?” Lydia asks, still working the shampoo through your hair.

You hesitate at that, considering the implications of being honest for a moment.

“He offered me an out,” you admit quietly.

Lydia’s fingers still in your hair, suds slipping down her wrists and onto your shoulders. Sabe and Joon are slack-jawed, simply staring at you, and Helda twists her hands nervously in her skirt at the sight of everyone’s disbelief.

“What do you mean?” Lydia asks, seemingly the only one able to speak. You refuse to look at her or at anyone else, for that matter.

“He said he wouldn’t marry me if I didn’t want to be his wife,” you explain, biting your lip.

“Then why do you still have that ring on?” Sabe asks, and there’s an edge to her voice that makes the back of your neck prickle.

“Sabe-“ Joon begins, already sensing a problem. Joon’s always been good at that, cluing in on people’s emotions before they have chance to spike.

“No, Joon, shut up,” Sabe barks, jumping to her feet. She’s furious, eyes ablaze, hands balled up tight by her sides. “You aren’t seriously going to marry him now, are you?”

Lydia begins rinsing the soap from your hair, making quick work of the task. All you can do is stare up at Sabe, wide-eyed as your mouth moves of its own accord. No words come out, only short, aborted sounds that make you sound like a fool.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Sabe spits, shaking her head as if she’s disgusted by the mere site of you.

Lydia’s done with your hair now, urging you out of the bathtub. “What is that supposed to mean?” you counter, deeply offended by Sabe’s demeanor. Helda’s by your side now with a towel and your robe, already trying to dry you and get you dressed.

“Your uncle practically sells you off to the galaxy’s biggest tyrant, and you mope around and act like you’ve been sentenced to death. Fine, I can understand that!” Sabe exclaims, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “But then the Supreme Leader himself gives you an opportunity to call the whole thing off, and you don’t take it? What the fuck is that?”

Everyone’s trying to talk now, you and Joon and Lydia all cutting in at the same time. Only Helda remains silent, standing off to the side and watching on anxiously, still twisting and twisting her fists in the fabric of her skirts.

“Sabe, you need to calm-“ Joon tries to say.

“I cannot believe-“ Lydia hisses, cut off by you.

“It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be,” you tell Sabe. A feeling of anxiety clamps down on your chest, and you feel so cold in the warmth of the room.

Your statement incenses Sabe. “What makes it so complicated then, Princess? Hm? Because it seems simple to me.” She jabs her finger at you, almost accusatorily. “You were fucking terrified to marry Kylo Ren, but now you’re not, and all after one conversation with the man! Why is that?”

A wave of anger washes over you at that, it makes you shiver in your robe. “The Supreme Leader thinks I can help the Order,” you hiss, taking a step towards your friend. “He wants me to help him rule.”

“He said that?” Joon interjects, brows raised. You nod, at her, whipping your head around quickly.

Sabe’s scoff feels like a punch in the gut. “Why?” she asks, not looking for an actual answer. “Your uncle has you make appearances for diplomatic reasons and that’s about it. You’ve never led negotiations or organized a benefit. You’ve never commanded an army or drafted a peace treaty. You’ve never done anything.”

You don’t recognize the Sabe that stands before you now. You knew nothing of the cruel streak that she’s displaying, had no idea that she could behave this way. And what’s worse, she’s absolutely right— you’ve never done anything but sit beside your uncle and look pretty while everyone around you handled the real problems. Past your beauty and your womb, what do you have to offer your fiancé?

“Kylo thinks I’m a good fit,” you insist, but even you don’t believe what you’re saying now. Tears slip down your face as you cast your eyes towards the floor, ashamed of yourself for so many reasons in this moment.

Sabe laughs a cruel laugh right in your face. “Yes, a good fit for taking his cock—”

Lydia strikes Sabe across the cheek, and the sound of it is almost deafening. Helda and Joon visibly flinch, but you’re too shocked to move a muscle. One minute, Lydia was standing off to the side behind you, but now she in front of you, in between you and Sabe.

Lydia must be stronger than any of you knew, because the force of her slap throws Sabe into the countertop at her side. Sabe looks terrified, bracing herself against the marble. She goes to say something, possibly to apologize, but Lydia is in no mood to hear her talk anymore.

“You insolent, disrespectful, disgusting child,” Lydia hisses. Her eyes are bright with rage, and she stalks towards Sabe like an animal going in for the kill. “How dare you speak to your mistress that way? Were you dropped on your head, or are you really that stupid?”

“Lydia, I—”

“Shut the fuck up, Sabe,” Lydia spits. “I am so tired of your mouth. You have said quite enough! I cannot believe that you would talk to your friend this way. The Princess has loved you, and cared for you, and put up with every little thing that you do. And how do you repay her? By calling her a useless cocksleeve? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Despite Lydia’s rage, Sabe is still willing to challenge her. “I just can’t believe that she’s going to leave her home planet to marry that man!” She cuts her eyes to you, angry again, but your own rage burns underneath your skin like fire.

“There’s nothing for me here!” you scream. The fury in your voice is powerful enough to wipe the look off of Sabe’s face, and Helda retreats into the corner of the room.

“What do you mean?” Joon ask softly, concern laced into the nervous expression on her face.

“Well!” you exclaim, gesturing all about you. “What is there for me to look forward to? I have no power, no responsibilities of my own. My uncle doesn’t love me, that much is clear now. My cousins have never been nice to me, I don’t see that ever changing. I have no lover and no potential suitors, if you don’t count the Supreme Leader. I… I’m nothing here,” you say pitifully, losing stream now. You choke out a sob, unable to stop yourself, and Lydia lays her hand on your arm.

“I just…” you whisper, chin trembling. “I just want to be somebody, and I can’t do that on this planet.”

“Princess,” Joon breathes, coming to hug you. Lydia rubs your back, and even Helda cautions a comforting comment.

“You’re someone to us already,” she says, and you could burst into tears at the mere sound of her sweet little voice. You look at Sabe, thinking surely that her attitude has changed after your speech. But when you meet her eyes, there is nothing but contempt swimming in her irises.

“You’re just like your uncle,” she declares, and you nearly choke on the air of superiority wafting around her. Joon pulls away from you, surely turning to scold Sabe for what she’s said, but she doesn’t get the chance.

“You black-hearted little twit!” Lydia roars, and she’s on Sabe faster than you or Joon can stop her.

Lydia grabs Sabe by her arms, shaking her violently as she shouts right in her face. “Get out!” she screams, “Get out and don’t come back! You have no idea what the Princess is going through, and what’s worse, you won’t even try to understand! You’ve never known duty, or responsibility, and it shows in everything you’ve just said! If you hate her so much for what she’s decided to do, leave!”

And with that, Lydia lets go of Sabe, pushing her to the ground. Sabe catches herself on her hands, completely stricken as she tries to haul herself off the floor. “You’re not my mother,” she spits, and you cannot understand why she still insists on being so defiant. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Sabe’s up now, standing once more with a rigid posture. “You think you know everything because you’re older and you were married, but you don’t, Lydia. Your husband never loved you because you were a mean, spiteful, barren hag!”

Helda claps her hands over her mouth at that, and it takes everything you have to restrain Lydia. She fights you hard, no doubt bent on tearing out Sabe’s eyes.

(For a brief moment, you almost let her.)

“Sabe, get out!” Joon shouts, giving your vicious “friend” the final push she needs to flee from your chambers.

It takes just seconds for Sabe’s footsteps to fade in the corridor, and when they do, you, Lydia, Joon, and Helda are left to absorb all that’s just happened.

“What is wrong with her?” Joon demands, speaking to no one and everyone all at once. You suck in breath after breath, slowly relaxing your grip on Lydia.

“I have no idea,” you breathe. You feel like you should be crying, given the state of things, but you can’t make yourself sob.

You feel as though you’ve been hit head-on by transport ship. Every muscle in your body aches, and you feel like you could fall down at any minute. Joon must feel the same way, because she leans back against the countertop, rubbing at her temples.

In a moment of horrified clarity, you realize that Helda’s bore witness to every bit of the last twenty minutes.

“Helda,” you say quickly, looking over at her. She’s crowded herself in the corner of the room, as far away as possible from where you and Lydia fought with Sabe. Helda’s white as a sheet and trembling, hands still working nervously in the fabric of her skirt. You move to go to her, to offer her some comfort, but Lydia heads you off.

“Helda,” Lydia says, mimicking you. She walks to the child, arms outstretched, and the look of remorse of Lydia’s face is too apparent to be disingenuous. “Helda, I am so sorry I spoke that way in front of you.”

Lydia clutches Helda against her chest, and Helda lets her, not really returning the hug. “That was awful,” the child whispers, tears slipping down her face.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, to Helda and to everyone else. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have just talked about my engagement ring and left the rest of it alone.”

Joon shakes her head quickly, scoffing. “No,” she tells you, “you should be able to talk about whatever the fuck you want. Sabe should remember her place and try to have a little empathy for other people.”

“Precisely,” Lydia says, wiping at Helda’s face with a washcloth. Helda isn’t exactly perky, but her eyes have lost their terrified stare. “Sabe should support you and understand that not all of us get to galivant about without consequences or obligations.”

“I really could have broken the engagement off,” you say, letting Joon guide you to your vanity. She begins combing your hair, and Helda and Lydia come to gather around you. “But I just… I didn’t want to. I thought I did, but then the Supreme Leader told me that he wanted my help, and it made me… excited to get married. Maybe I am like my uncle…”

Joon scoffs, batting you lightly with the comb in her hand. “Don’t even say that,” she scolds, “you’re nothing like that man. All he wants it power and money. All you want is an ounce of respect and a fulfilling life.”

Joon moves aside at Lydia’s silent prompting, making quick work of braiding your hair.

“I want to be cared for, too,” you admit quietly, almost with shame.

“Well, who doesn’t?” Lydia asks simply. “You’re a kind, sweet girl, and you deserve to be treated as such.

“That’s Sabe’s problem.”

You’re surprised to hear Helda saying that, but yourself and the others turn to her nonetheless.

“What do you mean?” Lydia asks.

“Well,” says Helda, “everyone adores Sabe. All of the men and women at court think she’s pretty, and her parents are nice to her. Sabe’s never been disliked in her life, and it’s gotten to her head.”

It’s flooring to hear Helda talk with such mature clarity, and you can’t help but give yourself a jab for underestimating her. All this time, you and the others have thought of Helda as an inexperienced child, but it’s clear that she understands more than any of you thought.

“Let her go,” Lydia declares, tying off your hair as she casts an impressed look Helda’s way. “You have bigger things to worry about.”

[tabletopjourneys]

Session 29 Notes

Completing fae deals and sailing out to sea with magic whales and a fortune in ambergris. Tags: @aradow @gher-bear @telurin @epimetal

On this day we successfully trick our way into completing Ixayl’anu’s bargain with Diem’s patron without having to fight anything. Said patron then immediately turns around to have Diem hold on to the item retrieved for awhile - the chaotic deck of many things. Diem and Ixayl’anu then deliver the fungus sample and make arrangements for possibly more samples and by-journal communications with the fungus expert, Professor Whitskey. Afterwards, we all set sail the next day for Anesh to continue our main quest. On the voyage, we encounter weirdness that includes a vanishing crew member and a group of whales doing ancient singing magics alongside and under the ship for a part of the voyage. It doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the meteors though. Ixayl’anu helps us discover and haul in some ambergris that’s gonna be worth tons of $$$$.   *Details below the “Keep Reading” break*

(Additional details noted before we knock on Dima’s door.) We agree that at some point while we’re all in the room, Phi found a good time  to tell us about Averni being run by vampires. This will possibly get threaded into a previous notes session if I find a good place. Either way, it happened.

Phi would have also told us during fae deal planning that Dima is a follower of Selune the moon goddess and that he’s pretty much not very tolerant/caring about other religions/gods/goddesses

Together we all figure out what Selune’s about, slightly a trickster (but not really the aspect Dima follows), for sailors, the moon and the night, etc.

(The visit with Dima - ‘Waiting Room’)

Ixayl’anu walks up to the door, Alfred the butler opens the door and looks at our ragtag bunch, spotting Phi in the back. “Yes, can I help you?”

Phi: We were wanting to talk to Dima, something’s come up.

Butler: Mr. Lenkov is in a meeting with Aristin Pilwickin (cousin 2nd removed) currently, but you can certainly come in and wait until they are done.

Phi: Yes it’s that important, we can wait.

Rest of us: Yeah we’re okay with waiting.

Phi: How’s it going Alfred? 

Al: *steps back opens door, responds*

Phi continues making small talk.

As we walk past the doors down the long hallway, past the doubledoors Phi gets whispered what’s going on because she’s the only one with perception for it and on high alert.

The exterior walls are def stone, but interior walls are plastered wood slats (a note for Rana)

As we reach the room we’re ushered to we see a scholarly blue and white dragonborn and fucked up gnome chick, not related to Phi, def looks like she had a hard life, low London rough and tumble accent.

Phi parses this as odd because she doesn’t really ever see these two together and they were both doing whispery voiced arguing that clams up when we enter.

Gnome lady stays quiet

Payton (scholarly dragonborn): Ah, leaf pick, haven’t seen you in awhile.

Rana gives Phi a confused look because this is like name #15

He’s one of the more stable potion makers of the group (Payton) soooome minor enchantments

Phi: Hey! How ya doin, Payton?

Rana and Diem hug the wall together not feeling great about the group’s chances in this situation.

Phi and Payton have awkward chitchat.

Phi gives Bamfina Lockley (the rough and tumble London gnome) a nod: Hey.

Lockley gives her a cool look in response, something of a glare.

Payton glazes over that about how great it’s going, lots of shipments and good time for working on my projects.

Phi: Have you heard anything about the weird meteors we’ve been having, lots of sciencey people talking about that?

Payton: I have seen them but I’ve been really busy this past week so I haven’t been...why have you heard anything?

Phi: We were talking to some people at the university and it just sounded pretty crazy, right?

Payton: *quetioning look* I didn’t realize you were so interested in astronomy

Phi: New hobby of mine, been spending a lot of time outdoors looking up at the sky and it’s just become fascinating to me.

Neither Payton nor Bamfina look like they know what to do with that.

Payton takes interest in Phi’s friends, we briefly greet back.

Phi asks if they’re waiting to see Dima

No

Oh we’re just gonna go in then

Lockley stroms off

Rana: Bye!

Phi’s cousin walks out from a door in the side hall on the east wall. “Oh, Selphina! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Phi: Oh, hey *nickname for level 2 familiarity* Small chitchat in the hall about wishing their loved ones well follows.

He gives the rest of us a wtf are these people doing here look as he goes by but Diem doesn’t even notice him until he’s already past them while Rana tries to start obviously awkward conversation with Payton after Phi dropped him like a hot potato. (The meeting with Dima)

Phi knocks on door where Dima is waiting.

Dima: Enter

Phi peeks in “I brought my friends with me this time, is it okay if they come in?”

Dima gives her a look: It’s better than having them in the hall.

It’s a cozy little office with french doors leading into a garden/well area. 20x30 office

Diem comes all the way in and crosses with Phi to the french door area to allow room for Rana and Ixayl’anu, then sits in the chair on that side of the office.

Dima thinks this is unusual that Phi’s brought people in, but she’s not in trouble for it. He casually closes his books and sets them aside as we come in.

Dima: Phi what is this about, I thought we’d spoken earlier?

Phi: Yeeeeah, but it turns out my friends realized they have something to talk to *you* about and so I brought them here to talk about it.

Dima: Interesting *makes go on hand gesture*

Ixayl’anu: (rolls a 10 on persuasion) and she says something to the effect of “I’m on a mission from Selune, and you have something she requires to complete my quest.” Dima is intrigued

Diem doesn’t think he looks intrigued enough and decides to use phantasmal force to convince Ixayl’anu Selune is now talking through her to tell this story, and hopefully Dima that it’s true/help really sell the story. Sleight of hand casting succeeds/Nobody notices Diem cast it, but Ixayl’anu makes her save enough to know what’s going on and let it happen.

Ixayl’anu then rolls a nat 20 on persuasion with the rest of the story, letting herself believe she’s possessed by Selune. Diem adds a little moonlight prestidigitation to Ixayl’anu’s eyes to really sell it. Both trickstery deities involved probably fully approved and thought this was great fun (Dima’s and Ixayl’anu’s)

Dima: Yes, Ixayl’anu, whatever you need, name it.

“Selune���: Ixayl’anu will know it when I see it through her eyes.

He leads us to the basement where there’s a sleeping black dragon it looks up and snorts.

Peace Antimony, (words I missed).

It hisses some toxic green gas and lays back down.

Dima leads us around. “This is just general storage, but I’ve got a vault down here.”

Rana and Phi have been flabbergasted. We all stand back and just act like we’re not interested in snooping. 

1st item: metal globe with protection runes “thaumaturge’s orb.”

2nd item: A staff with a golden hand at the end with one finger extended “Staff of Midas”

3rd item: Multi-faced star-shaped cut glass/shimmery crystal reflecting light in prismy way “The sky crystal focus” about the size of a basketball.

4th item: Beautiful finely made silver circlet with a large multi-faceted, mostly purple gemstone in the middle with 3 little motes of light that float around it in diff shifting colors “Arcanist’s Circlet”

5th item: A tiny hummingbird out of enamel or jade, in flight “Valonte’s vitalium”

6th item: Another orb, jet black with 2 copper bands runes carved into the orb. “Orb of passage”

7th item: A sword longsword with kind of twisted metal and hilt is standard wrapped hilt that merges into the base of the blade like grasping vines, cross blade is thorny “constrictor blade”

8th item: Just looks like a deck of fine playing cards, kinda plain. “The Deck of Many Things”

9th item: Amulet on a jeweler’s bust, inside is a beautiful topaz (yellow), large cut to shine brilliant, around it 2 sphinx’s and a four winged angel on top with sunrays behind it. It looks very ornate. “The Sunheart medallion.”

If Rana was looking she might be able to say more about it, but she isn’t.

Dima: I did just acquire this as well. 

*shows wine decanter sized crystal vial with a metallic, shimmering in all the colors kaleidoscopic liquid, I’m not exactly sure what this does yet, I haven’t had it identified, but it may also be what you seek.

Arcana check of 22 to see if I know any stories about the item names: Enough to Cross off staff of midas, volantes vitaleum, and constrictor blade.

Diem manages to sleight of hand cast message to share not these 3, but my patron said you would know it when you see it, so maybe...communicate with your god in front of each one or something? “You can respond to this message”

Ixie: Maaaybe.

Rolling a d6 at a 5 (for where she’s drawn): Ixie narrows it down to the skycrystal focus, the arcanist circlet, and the deck of many things.

Ixayl’anu tries to use divine sense in front of the 3. It doesn’t tell her any more.

She’s doing the slow loop around the room kinda thing, holding a hand out, dowsing rod kinda passing each one. Loops back around to the deck, decisively points at the deck “That one.”

Dima: Yeah, that completely makes sense, let me unlock that for you.

Phi rolls investigation to see if there’s a magic component to these keys or anything. As he puts in the key and turns it there’s a faint puff of coloured magic smoke that comes out, and she knows it’s just like a simple alarm spell - it would make a noise to alert something or someone elsewhere. Takes out the deck and hands it to Ixayl’anu.

Phi notices the back of these cards is an exact match to the card she’s been carrying. Dima’s deck is complete, Phi got it within a year, but not from Dima. Meta info none of us realize: Vizier: At any time you choose within one year of drawing this card, you can ask a question in meditation and mentally receive a truthful answer to that question. Besides information, the answer helps you solve a puzzling problem or other dilemma. In other words, the knowledge comes with Wisdom on how to apply it.

Ixayl’anu tries to give him a good faith I know it’s not enough token of 100gold

Dima: No, this is between us and the deities. (but he appreciates the gesture)

Ixayl’anu: May her light shine on you.

Dima: And you as well.

We don’t linger and follow Phi out.

He invites us to a drink after with some chitchat. With as little detail as possible and as much truth as possible (not sure what I meant by this statement lol). We get very good bourbon.

Charisma check for how Dima views each of us moving forward: Rana 15, Ixayl’anu 15, Diem: 10, Phi: nat 20 (22 total).

Level up!

We go back to the inn and Rana buys us dinner.

We talk about when we’re doing the professor meeting and will they meet us at night.

We both are like as soon as possible, but we’ll say it’s an emergency.

Rana exchanges a look with Phi.

Diem: What? Wait did you guys get message while I wasn’t paying attention?

Rana: Yes. Phi tells Diem the truth though (no, we didn’t)

Diem talks about maybe appearing on the boat after it’s already set sail - they don’t know how these things work.

Rana: Won’t the captain have questions?

Diem: Well we’re already paid for so it’s not like we’d be stowaways.

Rana and Phi talk about how mad her mentor might be, they talk about not knowing it wasn’t an actual message from Selune and what if Dima finds out. Rana doesn’t for a moment believe Selune was involved. 

Phi: That won’t be explained until the future either and if a catastrophe was averted by then it could make him less mad.

Rana: Let’s hope it was worth it.

Phi: Yeah, let’s take it one day at a time. Cross that bridge when we come to it.

Rana: Let’s just hope we don’t burn that bridge.

*cut to Diem and Ixayl’anu for a deal’s a deal scenes*

Diem does as last time, with the sense Ahrune heard.

Ahrune pops in “That was fast, what have you brought for me?”

Diem: We may have convinced him it was ordained by his goddess.

Ahrune: More interesting than what I had in mind.

Ixayl’anu *huffy*: It wasn’t exactly clear, but I brought you these.

Ahrune: *examines them* Yes, these will do quite nicely *hands them over to Diem* Why don’t you hold on to these for me.

Diem: *thanks in shock*

Ahrune makes us a door directly to the guy, and hands Diem a return portal orb to the inn when we’re done. “Forgive me if I don’t want to stick around for this part.” *disappears*

*Diem tucks the cards into their inner suit pocket before following Ixayl’anu through the door.*

As soon as we walk in he looks up: Oh! Hello I didn’t...office hours are closed!

Ixayl’anu: Forgive the intrusion but I need to talk to you.

Whitskey: You don’t look like one of my students…?

Ixayl’anu: No we haven’t met before, I have an unusual question...well...maybe *looks at all the vials of fungus and thinking maybe not* Wondering if maybe you can identify something for me.

I’m given to understand you’re professor Whitskey?

Whitskey: Yep that’s me.

Ixayl’anu: Do you...I think this question is self evident but do you happen to study lichen and fungus and things?

Whitskey: That is my specialty

Ixayl’anu: I have a substance that I - well a group of us found recently and I was hoping you’d know more about it.

Magical lichen - you understand magical lichen very well?

Whitskey: Yes do you have one you want me to identify?

Ixayl’anu digs in her pack and pulls out the vial to hand over

Diem: before you open this you should know *tells about it briefly and where it was sampled from*

Whitskey: Yeah I recognized it so I wasn’t going to throw magic at it but thanks for the warning.

You said you found this in the shadowood? You’re quite far from home.

One of us: We spoke to professor Leonis he wasn’t sure if it was native here or if they came with the meteors, he kind of led us to think it was native

Whitskey: Professor Leonis, I can’t say that I’m too familiar with him but I don’t get out much. I have heard all this hullabaloo about these meteors but I didn’t realize it would have anything to do with my work.

We talk about it growing directly on the meteor.

Diem illustrates it for him.

Whitskey: Hmmm *adjusts glasses* (has very large eyes behind the glasses)

Ixayl’anu brings up the dwarf too.

Whitskey: There was a dwarf? Tell me more about this.

Diem does a 22 on telling the story again and all the details they can remember.

Whitskey looks at the lichen in the jar and studies it. His excitement continues to grow as he looks up things in books and compares, etc. 

He keeps it in the jar and he brings the mage light closer to the vial. *Diem steps back*

The lichen grows toward the source of the magic with quite a speed, spindly bits and deeper colored. Whitskey quickly separates it out again.

Whitskey: This is quite a find! This is a very...I haven’t actually seen this before!

Diem would let him know what officials in Miova know, what little they don’t, or even the local Miovan professors about this fungus and that he might want to put a team together to stress the importance of this to his local magistrates/officials/etc, asks whether it might be wise to take a protected sample back there as well.

Whitskey: If I’m correct this line is very aggressive. Transporting it could be quite problematic, we’d have to set up a containment field, quite frankly I’m surprised it stayed in this method of containment.

Diem agrees on the point of transporting it back through another, different magical door and that it’s probably best to leave the whole sample with Whitskey after all.

Diem and Ixayl’anu talk about her mission and what they can do if they encounter more of it. Whitskey gets excited about the possibility of more samples then and happily gives us containers of his own.

Tips for future encounters: Bring someone who can create a null field, anti-magic area to contain it, and it is best you get the samples when they’re small, when they’re large they have a self-fulfilling mist about them and they become quite difficult to contain. At that point it can do certain things, take over other living organisms.

Diem: Like that dwarf - oh and maybe those gnolls.

*tells him about the gnolls now too*

Whitskey: Oh yeah some cults do use them to infect themselves with various forms of these lichens to become part of their deities. Usually those cults get found and irradicated. Some small discussion about that. We find out it’s common though with known species and not necessarily tied to this new one.

Diem asks about the care of the vessels

The containers are inert until you open them and put something inside, and once you shut them they become their magical versions and he wouldn’t recommend putting them in magic holding things like bags of holding or anything like that, but near those bags is fine.

(Rana:This guy is totally going to turn out to be evil

Leonis: "I can't just hand out University materials, I'd have to get permission."

This guy: "Take my personal vials.")

We get 3 containment units.

He goes around to the other side of his table and give us a small book of sending so we can keep in touch and we can coordinate how to get samples and such back and forth.

We verify we can send warnings through and not just notes, and he will contact us too about things he learns.

How durable are the contaminants?

More durable than glass, they can break, handle them with care, don’t smash them on the floor or throw them at things. They’re made of magical pyrex. Thick enough to drop from waist height and they’ll be fine.

Whitskey: You’ve made my whole night, my whole year, I have so many things to do!

Ixayl’anu has something else she wanted to ask but can’t think of it right now.

Diem makes sure it’s okay to ask him a question in the book later if she thinks of it.

Whitskey: Oh yes, so long as it pertains to all of this.

Diem: Can this book be stored in a bag of holding?

Whitskey: Yes absolutely.

Ixayl’anu: Anything else you can think of?

Diem: Nope I think we did a pretty good job.

Ixayl’anu smashes the portal and we go back to the room we were in, taking 45 minutes total.

Rana and Ixayl’anu played with their rats. *rewind a little (to prevent potential disaster lol)*

Before we left, Phi brought up that she had a similar card to the deck we got and she tells us it’s a deck of many things that have wildly varying effects that could be really good or really bad and she knows you have to declare how many cards you want to draw and select them. She has an enchanted card to be whatever card she needs and now that she knows this it’s revealed its true nature to her so now it probably doesn’t work as intended.

Phi asks if she can see the deck and Ixayl’anu hands it over (in the velvet bag Dima had tucked them in).

She puts them face down on the table “I have one of these cards that I thought was just a trick card. I use this to turn into a different card *she tells it to change by illustration* the fact my boss had cards like this tucked in his treasure room tells me this is more than just a simple trick.”

It’s def a trickster element to it. Diem realizes they know stories about these cards (21 arcana check), gives some examples of people dying, being lost, become more powerful or rich, getting wishes granted.

Rana makes a face when the wish spell is mentioned.

Phi: Sounds super dangerous but also kind of fun

Diem: Yeah, but also the epitome of fey fun, so it makes sense why you picked that one, Ixayl’anu.

Phi: *tucks her card away and talks about getting it identified*

*Phi and Rana time while Ixayl’anu and Diem are at Whitskey’s*

Rana: So how do you and Dima know each other?

Phi: He’s the head of an organization I used to be a part of.

My family is very involved still so I kinda don’t talk about being involved with it anymore so I kinda just go off and do my own thing but Dima is one of the people who knows I don’t wanna be a part of it anymore. He makes sure I don’t get any heat from not wanting to be part of it now.

Rana: Well your sister seems nice and he seems nice

Phi: He’s NOT nice, but my sister doesn’t know much about it, she’s just a family person, focuses on that. Her job’s not so intense (I have a lot of sisters though).

Rana: What do your other siblings do? *confused*

Phi: You know

Rana: No, I don’t.

Phi: Just stuff that isn’t necessarily on the up and up, you know, like...below the law things that you may not wanna do if you have kids you gotta feed. I don’t know, she’s just a different person.

Rana: Is that why she had so many kids?

Phi: Oh no that’s just normal and they’re not all hers.

Rana: Dima did help us. Well, we tricked him into it but he really did help us.

Phi: Yeah I was actually a little surprised by that. I think he’s just very devout so I don’t think he saw an option to not help if that makes any sense?

Rana: Either way if he’s been supporting you and he’s willing to help us out, he can’t be that bad right?

Phi: Sure. I mean he’s not supporting me out of the niceness of his heart, we made a deal.

*I missed Rana’s response, sorry*

Phi: It wasn’t like a favor it was a trade

Rana: At least we’re not making deals with the fae

Phi: That’s some crazy shit right? I’d never do something like that.

*Back to the present*

Diem stores coffee can sized containers in their bag with a tight fit and takes the sending book downstairs to meet the others after we decide to tell them about the deck in addition to the meeting with the prof.

They are cuddling very fat very happy rats right now when we find them.

Diem: Good news and...interesting news.

*we tell them*

*we go over our primary goal*

We decide to let the local lawmaster know our statement too and told the front desk lady. Rana didn’t come along, she went to bed.

Diem mentioned meeting them again for breakfast because they have last night of potential company.

Phi asks about that on the way and Diem dishes about the sexy librarian with his dark teal skin. 

Ixayl’anu got a 13 on her insight check to the first story she overheard.

Contested against 23, she believed it all, but it was definitely just singing the praises of Teagan and nothing revealing at all about Diem themselves. (Insight checks were arranged after, Phi’s is yet to be determined)

(Getting on the boat)

Next day Diem doesn’t make it to breakfast but they do make it just in time.

Rana on stone: I have your stuff and bringing it with me to the boat, be there.

Diem: I’m already on my way I promise, I’ll be there soon *flying clothes on totally not already on the way*  Diem also manages to get a pearl on the way for their new identify spell.

Rana is a bit grumpy as she eats her breakfast taco

Ixayl’anu tells Rana she has something that might help, even though she seems to have a handle on water forms now *hands over water walking ring*

Rana: If you don’t mind I would like to hold on to this for the journey.

Ixayl’anu: Sure

*brusquely nods*

Diem: Oh my pack is making up, you guys <3

Rana spent all night preparing all the water spells.

Ixayl’anu dumps 4 shark teeth

Phi: What’s with that?

Ixayl’anu: It’s so we have a safe trip?

Diem: What? What’s what about?

Ixayl’anu: Don’t you have anything to give too?

Phi and Diem: No, do we need to?

Ixayl’anu looks worried and gives us shark teeth and tells us to throw them in too.

We do so and I’m totally interested in the story behind it. Tell me Ixayl’anu, pretty please!

Ixayl’anu: You just do it for safe passage from the spirits.

Clearly the guardian spirits of the ocean are the sharks. This just insures nothing that’s beyond the sailors skills will happen on this journey.

Diem talks about that being fair - no shark teeth is probably why they ended up overboard in a barrel their last trip to sea.

*Ixayl’anu hands Diem a small bag of shark teeth just in case.*

Diem: Do I dump all these in now or for later?

Ixayl’anu: Later, you shipwrecked seems you’ll need them. Diem gives a fair point shrug and happily holds on to them.

During all this talk, Rana has tossed in one of the prettier stones from her pocket and while stressing out, is looking to spot it in the water. Rana manages to spot her offering.

Phi tries to distract by asking Rana about her homeland.

Diem internally pouts over not hearing Ixayl’anu’s story about how she lost her body guards the first time around that didn’t go so well, but is also interested in stories about Rana’s homeland (and distracting her). (I think I missed some of the initial talk)

Rana: Don’t wanna be caught out in the desert without protection either from the sun, cold at night, etc.

Phi: Well you just have to trust the experts that know about the place we’re in, like we trust these experts in the ship we’re in.

Rana looks over like “I know what you’re doing” Yes we do don’t we, let’s get on this boat before I change my mind. *Throws in all her shark teeth too*

When we get on, we mostly get ignored by the crew.

(Aboard the ship, talking about Anesh, Rana sees a new animal form!)

Phi does 14 perception, few new faces, mostly the same crew. “Hey how many shark teeth did you throw in the water today?” to the one she knows to be the nicest/most tolerant.

Person looks at her with sheer incredulity “what are you talking about?” and walks away.

Phi 11 retro-active perception checks superstitious stuff among this crew, but hasn’t noticed any.

When shown their rooms, Diem asks Rana if she wants to share a room since there are only 3.

Ixayl’anu attempts to bring her elk aboard and gets a few looks from the crew, but they don’t deny her. The captain is nowhere to be seen. It can roam around 9 or put it in 12 (the actual hold). She bought elk supplies bedding/food for the trip.

On their rush to the boat, I did manage to buy a pearl because my patron tipped me off to check my spell book.

We all hang out on deck, Diem tries and fails to come up with positive ship stories to distract Rana.

Ixayl’anu asks Rana about where they’re going.

Rana rolls 14 history check: She knows it’s a port town (Farford), they do a lot of the trade that comes in from Petarus rather than overland - specialty seeds, various animals (not the metals which come from Bouldergap). She didn’t stick around too much. Before she met us she didn’t stick around anywhere very much, sold her goods and moved on.

Ixayl’anu: What’s it like in Anesh?

Rana: It’s pretty dry, it’s a desert - most of it, near the mountains you have more brushy cover. You don’t wanna go to Lake Nitron.

Phi: Why not?

Diem: What’s wrong with Lake Nitron?

Rana: It’s pretty deadly, only a few birds can survive out there it’s not really a place that you’d want to live. Sunhame is right in the middle of it all but most of the towns are either on the coastline or nearer the mountains where there’s cover.

Ixayl’anu: And that’s where your home is, up in the mountains?

Rana: Yeah, that’s where I learned all my druid craft at too

Ixayl’anu: What do your parents do?

Rana: It’s just my mom, she’s a tailor. My dad died before I was born so I can’t really tell you much about him. My brother is a blacksmith.

Sunhame is not as large as Miova but the rest of the towns are about the size of Budelia.

I’ve been to Sunhame a few times, it’s heavily religious. I spent a lot of time traveling between them all between my mom’s business and my brother’s blacksmithing. We don’t have anything like the shadowood where we’re from though, that’s a you guys thing.

Ixayl’anu: Do you have trees?

Rana: Some, a few up in the mountains scattered near them, but not a lot of them. It’s not as green, you guys have a very green country

Diem: Do you prefer it that way?

Rana: I like both places, nature exists (I missed the rest of this) yeah it’s not as green as Rethwellian but I think you guys will like it, it’s a nice place.

Ixayl’anu: I get the impression it’s really hot though

Rana: Yeah, it’s warm. It’s a desert.

(Established that Rana’s staff is made of hazel, found in the mountains.)

(I may have missed some more things. You’ve probably guessed but even when I don’t note this, it’s probably true even for conversations that seem whole.)

Rana talks until someone stops her, but we’re all on team distract Rana, so we encourage it.

We have occasionally seen the captain if we notice.

Calm sailing so far.

Ixayl’anu rolls a d20 for us for mysterious reasons.

About 3 hours into the day, noonish, we see a pod of killer whales hanging out with the boat. 

Rana ventures closer to the rail by then and adds it to her animals seen list.

Diem asks how her animal form hunting went.

Rana: I found a loud seal.

Diem: Did you try swimming?

Rana: No I just transformed into one so I know I can do it and watched them swimming so I’m sure they can. It’ll be fine.

Diem: Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be just fine. (As text this sounds like sarcasm but it wasn’t lol)

Rana: Yeah we’ll be okay.

Diem: We will absolutely be okay. (Also not sarcasm, but let’s not point out she didn’t try swimming in that form)

(Aboard the ship, Diem has identify now!) 

Before the end of the day, Diem picks a time when everyone’s near enough to hear them to tell Phi “guess what I learned how to do?”

Phi: What?

Diem: *brandishes pearl* I can identify things now!

Phi: And what’s that?

Diem: Oh the pearl I need to cast it.

Phi: So does that mean you could find out what this card can do?

Diem: Maybe, wanna try?

Phi: Yeah *hands it over*

Diem starts trying 

Phi: Oh but I also wanted to ask you how your night went.

Diem: *tries to concentrate on ritual but gives up to just answer the question* do you want to know that now or after I cast the ritual?

Phi: Oh later is fine.

Phi leaves so they can concentrate.

Diem finds it out after 15 minutes instead of just 10 and tells Phi it is the vizier and what it does.

Phi looks disappointed (I think because the card also lost its ability to be any card she wanted at a thought but all I literally wrote here is “Phi looks disappointed scene” and then failed to remember details I was so sure I could fill in later :P) (Aboard the ship: Keeping company with spiderwalking elks, Phi and Diem have a talk)

Ixyal’anu goes to keep her elk company after awhile.

Before the end of the night, Diem and Phi go to Phi’s room to dish the details on Diem’s last night with Teagan. By the time they get there, however, Diem has a more serious, related topic on their mind that alters this discussion (Sorry at the time I was stuck in the “no live awkward rated R details” mode and forgot something happened that would give Diem pause over the “after hours” story time).

Rana casts spider climb on the elk again to make herself feel better.

Ixayl’anu, confused, asks it “did you do this? How do you do this?”

Elk: I’m on the ceiling, it’s great!

Unfortunately realizes he can’t swallow upside down so comes down to swallow his food.

Ixayl’anu: You need to teach me this trick

Elk: I don’t know how I do it, it just happens.

Ixayl’anu insight checks 18 *stares down the elk*

Elk: Sometimes when your friend comes around I can do this.

Ixayl’anu: Which One?

Elk: The copper one

(Aboard the ship - next day shenanigans, I think? Day 3 shenanigans? I didn’t make the timeline very clear in these notes) At some point during the day, Diem snuck in Phi’s room to take back the doll from her packs, then tried to sneak it into her arms that night 20 stealth vs 25 perception, Phi wakes to see Diem looming over her, reaching out. 

Diem quickly hides doll behind their back and is very awkward about this. Rana doesn’t cuddle and I wanted to see if you would.

Phi wants to know what they were doing, why they were reaching out for her face though.

They awkwardly try to explain that there was something on her face.

Phi tells them they’re being creepy. Diem: Oh, and who snuck into my room in Budelia just sitting on the end of my bed watching me? That wasn’t creepy? Deflection fails so Diem shows her the doll and pretends they were trying to get rid of it for her before she woke up and freaked out.  This backfires as Phi gets really really freaked out and Diem decides they can’t go through with that either and admits that they did it, they were actually trying to *leave the doll in her arms* to find later and it’s just one of those normal dolls of the queen they were handing out at the festival.

Phi: I changed my mind, you’re not getting cuddles tonight.

Diem *crushed to lose cuddles*: I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were that scared of it - What if I throw it overboard right now - an offering to the sharks?

Phi agrees to cuddle after all if Diem throws the doll overboard. We do so and then go sleep in the same room with Rana. Note: I think I forgot to note the passage of some uneventful days mixed up in this trip somewhere because otherwise we’d have only 2 full days out to sea, arriving in the morning of day 3. As such, I went back through the notes to note when an (the?) uneventful day(s?) might’ve occurred. (Ocean Voyage Day ?: What happened to Kelly?)

By the time the rest of us wake up, Rana is probably already on deck sitting miserably.

Diem tries to cheer her up but it’s mostly cause she’s not feeling well.

Ixayl’anu begins to notice how weird it is that this crew is quiet and antisocial

Diem doesn’t really notice but tries to encourage sea shanties. A few look my way (19 persuasion) and catch themselves humming before quickly cutting off and going silent again.

Ixayl’anu starts talking to phi about how strange this is

Diem agrees, noting how the ships they’ve been on always sing shanties and clearly some of this crew knows them…

Ixayl’anu: and they’re usually shouting back and forth about things they’re doing/seeing.

Phi: Maybe they don’t need to communicate like that?

Diem: Yeah maybe they all follow old ones...? Wait that sounded way more ominous out loud than in my head.

Rana is glaring at us.

Ixayl’anu: *Grumbling* it’s usually more lively than this, I just don’t like it.

Phi realizes something about something Tel whispered her: Wait a second guys, I wanna go ask somebody something *goes to find the guy who thought the whole shark teeth thing was weird*

Phi makes a 17 investigation roll, she does not see the person she was looking for, but she had seen him since launch.

Phi returns and tells us she can’t find the guy she spoke to yesterday when we set out.

Diem: Are all the little boats still here?

Ixayl’anu casts divine sense but doesn’t sense any celestial, fiends, or undead: Do you know his name? Maybe you could ask about him?

Phi doesn’t know why we’re worried, but she knows his name (Sean something I missed) and could go asking even though she’s not worried.

Diem messages: Are you really not worried or are you saying that for Rana’s benefit, you can respond to this message.

Phi: Well I’m not worried but I’m getting worried that you’re worried. You can respond to this message.

Phi goes off to ask the captain and knocks, hears sigh.

Cpn: What can I do for you Selphina?

Phi: I was gonna ask Kelly a question but I can’t find him, do you know where he is?

Peter gets quiet and then says “Oh no, Mr Kelly had other engagements and didn’t join us this go around.”

Phi: But I saw him yesterday…?

Cpn: You must’ve been mistaken.

Insight check 10. She knows he’s lying but doesn’t know anything else about it, only that something about this is not right. It’s also suddenly degrees colder in this room.

Phi: I guess I was mistaken.

Cpn: No worries it happens to everyone

Phi: How’s the trip going, are we on schedule?

Cpn: Oh we’re making excellent time, we should be there by morning.

Phi: Excellent

Upon returning to us, Phi: Guys I don’t think we should be talking near the captain’s door in the future, but I was clearly mistaken

Phi actively tries to get out of the conversation and drop it.

Diem suggests maybe it’s this crew’s own superstitions like “quiet passage for quiet passage.”

Ixayl’anu says maybe she’ll be be less worried about it then. (Aboard the ship: Ambergris!)

At some point during the day we see a lump of grey goo overboard about the size of 2 milk crates. Definitely smaller than a chair.

Ixayl’anu notices it first, rolls a 12 on nature check, it’s not something her culture uses but it’s whale vomit and worth its weight in gold.

She points it out, gives fancy ambergris name to us and looks for a bucket, Phi tries to help.

We found a bucket, it’s probably not big enough for this. Ixayl’anu hits the thing, but realizes the bucket is too small.

Rana casts control water to keep it with the ship. Diem runs to get their special rope. 

When they return with rope, it ties off successfully and Ixayl’anu manages to get it up to the boat, with all four of us pulling we successfully get it on board (mostly Rana’s 21 and no thanks to my 2 lol).

It smells not great.

Diem: Oh that’s awful *prestidigitations it to smell like flowers* (Except it’s old enough to be hard and not smell too awful anymore)

We talk about getting it in the black of holding and breaking it in pieces so we don’t rip our bag.

Rana asks about what it’s for, is it part of the meteor?

Ixie: No, it’s...well it’s whale vomit.

Diem: Oh, gross... *looks at their hands and casts prestidigitation*

Rana goes back over to sit where she was before like oh my god as the rest of us talk about it being valuable. She leaves the bag of holding with us to break it and stick it in the bag.

Phi: This is awesome, the best day ever, I’m going to throw shark teeth in the water every time!

Ixayl’anu: *excited* yeah the teeth just show up on the beach it’s so easy to find them. (not knowing if that’s true everywhere).

Diem: Or maybe the whale just saw that doll (as an aside to Phi)? 

Phi laughs.

We have a pleasant evening, no plans.

Ixayl’anu gives a heads up to the elk: Watch listen tonight so you can stay up. Keep your ears open.

Evening perception checks: me (literal 0), Ixayl’anu: (nat 20), Rana: 21, Selphina: 10. (Ancient Whalesong Magic!)

Rana can’t sleep tonight. She hears a low wailing that goes into a series of clicks. She hears it all night long.

Rana goes to Ixayl’anu’s room and asks “What is that?” It sounds like they’re following the boat or just all around us.  A lot of them and very close.

Ixayl’anu: It’s whale song

Rana: Why are they so loud?

Ixayl’anu: Well it’s...I don’t know what they use it for, but it’s communication

Rana: But why are they so loud?

Ixayl’anu: I don’t know *both go above deck to check it out*

Rana makes 7 perception, Ixayl’anu a 14. She knows what to look for - occasionally she sees a spout but they’re not hanging out at the surface, only coming up to breathe and going back down, unlike what she’s used to.

Looking out over the water for a little bit they speak with animals at about the same time. About 10-14 whales.

Rana or Ixayl’anu: What are you singing about?

A whale: We’re working

Another whale: We’re busy

Now that they can hear what they’re saying, it doesn’t make sense at first, it has a weird strange poetic cadence to it, it kinda sounds like chanting or a ritual spell.

Ixayl’anu makes an 8 on arcana check

Rana wants to see if this is natural and rolls an 18 nature check. It seems like a natural thing, these are natural whales.

Ixayl’anu: What’s the song about?

There are words they can recognize, but she didn’t pre-arrange the song (Bless you if you know what I meant at the end of this statement).

19 perception from Ixayl’anu to get the meaning through the overlapping song. It’s about wrapping something around things and tying things together and binding something, repetitive in the round song way (row row row your boat lol) about keeping something together, apart from everything else.

Rana is leaning over the railing intrigued by all this.

Ixayl’anu is looking for any visual signs, 14, little waves, but not enough to disturb the pretty view of moonlight on the water. She doesn’t hear any birds or any other splashing. Very quiet other than the whale song.

Rana excitedly runs below deck to wake Phi and Diem up to experience the whales too! Diem actually does manage to perceive whales. It is very cool.

Rana (to whales): Are you coming with us?

A Whale: No we have our own business to attend to

Rana: Where are you going?

Whale: Here

Ixayl’anu: Are you hunting?

Whale: No, we are not hunting. We are very busy.

Rana: Do you need help?

One of the whales spy hops, large whale between humpback and blue whale (fin whale).

Diem: Wow that is so cool.

Rana gets the sense it’s looking at her and comes back down with a snort: I don’t think you could.

Rana: You’d be surprised. I might be able to help if you need help, but what’re you doing?

Whale: It is old magic for our kind.

Ixayl’anu and Rana ask them more about it, find out they’re doing some kind of binding ritual.

Rana casts locate object looking for pieces of the meteor.

She does not sense anything within a thousand feet of her. 

Rana: Is it about a rock?

Whale: It is about the project

Rana looks at Ixayl’anu with an unspoken question.

Ixayl’anu shrugs.

Whale clarifies: The Great Project

Rana: Good luck!

One whale acknowledges with a little fin wave

Rana: They clarified it wasn’t about a rock

Diem knows of sailors telling a few tales of whales helping shipwrecked people and other species and some people say the whales seem to be very benevolent forces, not really heard of magic, just weird sailor tales.

Diem suggests maybe the great project has to do with the sharks teeth thing.

Eventually over the next half hour we get out of immediate range, but we hear them for the rest of the night.

Phi dozed off leaning against something.

We go back to bed and the whole thing puts us at a later rising time. (Farford on the horizon!)

When we wake up we see Farford in the distance.

We’re gonna get 30k platinum for the amber gris (7500 each)

Next session: Jan 14th 5pm. (But really...tomorrow, it’s tomorrow!)

We don’t need to rp out selling whale vomit.

Phi kept a little jar of amber gris for future trade options.

Ixayl’anu tries to find more shark teeth.

(Omitted notes to self with note of omission so I remember to reference them for establishing some previous details)

Diem promises when they receive their cut of the amber gris, to name their firstborn after Ixayl’anu lol.

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 4.6K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which Greg receives some answers, Bismuth faces her consequences, and Steven really needs to go to bed.

First | Last chapter

While I’m cross posting all of these to tumblr, I’d love to have your support over on AO3 too! Plus, it’s easier to subscribe there. A win-win, I’d say. Excitingly, this is the longest chapter yet.

Chapter 5: Onward

“So… hold on,” Greg says slowly, raising his hand to cut off the others’ incessant yammering. “Just lemme- let me take a moment to see if I can properly wrap my head around everything. So you’re saying that—“

He turns on the one they identified as Bismuth, pointing at her with such ferocity that his finger might as well be a— what did they call it again? Oh, yes!— a ‘breaking point’ itself.

“—that she tried to kill my son by smashing his gem?”

“Mmmhmm,” Garnet nods.

As usual her eyes are entirely hidden behind her opaque visor, something that always made getting to know the Gem particularly daunting in those early days, but by now he’s close enough to infer her full disposition from her body language and tone alone. And as far as he can tell from the clipped words and stiff movements, she’s pissed. The full brunt of her anger is thankfully restrained… he imagines for Steven’s sake. He hugs his son closer, the boy currently nestled against his midsection and sitting on the fountain’s rim. Garnet sits on his other side, with Amethyst next to Steven. Pearl, meanwhile, kneels on the ground holding a surprisingly deep-cut gemstone in her lap, the very gemstone that by all rights should be embedded in his son’s navel but currently isn’t. He frowns and tugs at his hair (a bad habit of his, over the decades), finding his thoughts growing more and more fragmented over this by the second.

“But she only tried to kill him because she thought he was Rose… who bubbled her thousands of years ago because she wanted her to shatter Pink Diamond. But then Rose actually was Pink Diamond… all along? And somehow fake shattered herself?”

“Yup, that’s pretty much it,” Steven says with a faint laugh, no amount of falsified cheer able to conceal the conflict brewing within him. Greg watches him clutch at the bottom hem of his shirt, and his heart nearly shatters right there on its own. His boy’s grown worryingly savvy as of late, plastering on a brave face whenever he thinks the others can’t handle the full burden of a child’s stress. He probably assumes he’s getting away with it, too. His mistake. One of the many things fathers grow attuned to over the years is the habits and facial tics of their children. All that said, if this is troubling for him, he can’t begin to imagine how traumatic and confusing this upheaval is for Steven.

God, and he’s only fourteen! He shouldn’t have to deal with any of Rose’s war fallout.

“And then,” Greg continues, gesturing between his son and the pink gem Pearl holds, “before she could actually kill him he split in two?”

“It was almost like he abruptly unfused,” Bismuth supplies, maintaining a healthy distance from the rest of the group.

“But it didn’t feel like fusion at all,” Steven says, and shudders. “It hurt, it hurt really bad.”

“He was unconscious for at least a minute. The half with the gem, the pink one, started screaming and tried to fight me away from him but I knew I had to get him off the forge’s surface so he didn’t burn.” The rainbow haired Gem hangs her head in shame. “I was so worried he wouldn’t wake up ‘coz of me.”

“Yeah, sure ya’ were,” Amethyst spits, and crosses her arms.

Pearl’s eyes narrow with a precise intensity. “Amethyst, please. Not now.”

Contrary to whatever assumptions on her he held before, Bismuth shows no inclination to argue in any vain hope of saving face. Instead she stands stiff before the group, appearing just as haunted by the consequences of her actions as Steven is. While the back-and-forth between her and the Crystal Gems continues, her fingers twitch, desperately yearning for something to tinker with. As someone who frequently seeks out the reliable comfort of strumming improvised chords on his guitar in times of stress, he can relate. Of course, far be it for him to excuse this new Gem’s actions when they almost cost him his only son, but at least she has the decency to express remorse over it. He’s furious at her, he truly is, and yet… He also can’t help but feel a twinge of pity lighten his heart upon hearing her side of the story. Huh, funny. Normally he’s more apt to harbor a stone cold grudge over this sort of stuff. He blames his kid’s influence.

“I was angry at Rose, not Steven,” Bismuth says as he tunes back in to the conversation. “I was so sure that this was all just another one of her lies that I— well, you all know. But when I saw what I’d done…. When they split apart and he fell to the ground, I—!”

Her voice cracks, and he watches her nearly crumble like chalk.

“I- I made a terrible mistake, and I’m genuinely sorry,” she finishes.

“‘Kay, so you’re super sorry and promise never to hurt him again, we get it,” Amethyst says, blunt sarcasm oozing from her words. “But seriously, is no one gonna address the ginormous cluster hangin’ over our heads? Y’guys! New headline! We just found out Rose was a total sham!”

Steven holds up a finger as he interjects. “Actually, we don’t know anything except that she was apparently Pink Diamond, but…��

“Yeah, and Pink D’s like, the bad guy, Steven! She’s the reason they had to fight this whole stupid war in the first place! And then, what? She creates you just so she doesn’t have to deal with the fact she’s a liar?”

The young teen shrinks away from her anger, a lump forming in his throat. Greg’s jaw clenches. His hand tightens around his son’s midsection.

“None of this is Steven’s fault,” Garnet says quietly, firmly placing her sapphire laden hand on the purple Gem’s shoulder to quiet her down. She shrugs away at her touch, lips jutting into a pout.

“Or any of yours’," Pearl says.

Greg’s eyes lock on the slender Gem at her abrupt comment, and he watches with apt attention as her thumb glides across the largest facet of the diamond in her lap. Hearing her voice comes as a surprise, as she’s been unusually absent from this conversation thus far. It seems none of the others want to talk about it in depth right now, but apparently she’s forbidden from mentioning anything about Pink Diamond. It’s yet another betrayal, yet another reason why the sight of the rose blossoms growing wild around them and the delicately carved curly-haired statue at the fountain’s center leaves him with uncertainty gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

And yet… and yet.

What if he’s being a hypocrite about all of this? It’s not like he told Rose everything about his past, either. Rose was a diamond, sure, but— he’s a DeMayo. There’s a number of dark days attached to that name he’d rather let die in the past too. Are they really entitled to the full narrative of the life she left behind? Is anyone?

He scratches at his scalp. “Listen, Amethyst. I understand all of you are upset, and rightfully so. I can’t exactly say I’m thrilled to hear all of this either. But the bottom line is… I know the woman I loved. Maybe not for long, but I grew to know her in ways far more intimate than even some of you. And if there’s one thing I can say for absolute certainty, it’s that… despite her mistakes, despite everything else she probably lied about, her love and respect for all of you was not a sham.”

Pearl nods. “I almost can’t believe I’m agreeing with Greg of all people, but he’s right.”

“And you’re entitled to believe that,” Garnet says evenly. “But no matter what we believe, I still think it’s wise to try not to make assumptions about her in the first place. Either good, or bad. At this point, what we know is what we know, and I can’t see any easy way of changing that in the near future.”

“So, what are we supposed to do about all this now?” Amethyst asks, all her earlier anger dissipated in her exhaustion.

She considers this for a second, visor glinting in the glow of sunrise.

“Nothing.”

“What?”

The fusion doesn’t budge an inch. “We don’t change our tactics.”

“But- but if she was our leader, and we always just blindly followed what she wanted, then—“

“No matter her original intentions, the Crystal Gems, as a movement, is far bigger than one diamond,” she says. “We move onward. We thrive. Never mind Rose.”

Steven squirms in his embrace, and in a small, timid voice— a jarring reminder of the child he still is despite his recent leap in emotional maturity— asks the question he’s sure has been weighing on him ever since he got split apart in the first place.

“What about me, and my—“ he tries and fails to stifle a yawn— “my gem? What am I supposed to do now?”

“We’ll deal with your Gem half when he reforms, and he will,” Garnet says gently. “But right now, you need your rest. We all do. Pearl, Amethyst, help him to the temple and get him tucked into bed. Bismuth, Greg. I need to speak to both of you.”

Everyone nods at the Crystal Gem leader’s directions, and they all act accordingly. His eyes drooping just as much as his son’s despite the pink tinted skies and chirping meadowlarks, Greg helps him stand to his feet. Steven’s knees still quiver but thankfully this time he doesn’t crumple. Pearl loops one of her arms through his, still holding his gem in her opposing hand, and together they begin to plod towards the warp pad they arrived earlier. Amethyst follows them but notably lags behind, guilt written across her face clear as day. She delivers one final glance at Bismuth, razor sharp and flaring with hurt, and then disappears in the orchard’s shadow.

A palpable silence brews between the two remaining Gems then, uncomfortable enough that he’s almost left with sweat beading on his brow just watching them. Eventually doing so becomes too stressful, and he moves to retrieve the downy comforter that’s long since been forgotten on the stone midway to the fountain. He folds the bedding as compact as he can, and drapes it over his non dominant arm, distantly acknowledging that it’ll have to go in the wash. He wishes he could’ve gone home with Steven too. What does she need a human like him for right now, anyways? He’s no fighter, or mediator. The cool grey one blows a nervous puff of air from between her lips and wraps her hands around a few strands of her rainbow dreads. Garnet‘s expression twists into a frown. Stepping towards her, she crosses her arms.

“Bismuth…”

“If you’re going to bubble me away again, just say it,” she blurts out, hanging her head in resignation.

Ever so subtly, Garnet tilts her head as if caught off guard by the visceral hurt pooling in the other Gem's words. In any case, her tone remains steady.

“We’re not bubbling you.”

“What? You’re—?”

“It was avoidable miscommunication that led to that the first time. I won’t let that happen again, especially not to a friend. However,” she says, holding up a finger before the other Gem can interject, “as consequence for striking a fellow Crystal Gem in cold blood, until further notice you are no longer welcome in the temple. You will not seek us out. You will in no circumstance find yourself alone with Steven. If we require your help and you are willing, we’ll call for it. But for now, until we’re ready to begin to forgive, you’re on your own.”

Bismuth’s gaze turns up towards her once more, sober in silent acceptance. She blinks rapidly to stave away the tears, and her lips press together tight. Greg’s unsure if the emotion she’s desperately barring away is remorse about her exile or shell shocked relief that she won’t be bubbled away for another five millennia.

“I encourage you to explore this planet as you reflect upon your actions,” Garnet continues. “I think you’ll find a lot has changed since the rebellion… and I think that with time, so can we all.”

“Am I relieved now?” she asks, voice thick and wavering.

She regards her with a long, searching look as she deliberates. “Yes. You may go.”

At first Bismuth spins on her heels, making to leave, but apparently something else stirs on her soul because she pauses. Taking a deep breath, she whirls back around to face the fusion.

“I know this probably doesn’t count for much after all that happened, but. I truly am sorry, for everything.” She turns to regard him directly, her gaze piercing but sincere. “Tell Steven that I hope he can forgive me one day.” And, to the other Gem: “And tell Pearl I’m sorry for what she had to go through, with Pink.”

“I will.”

“Take care of them, would you? Yourself, too.”

Garnet nods. Perhaps as a final sign of goodwill between old war comrades, she offers her hand. The way she does leaves the sapphire on her palm fully exposed. Greg bets it’s a powerful and evocative gesture to a Gem who is being punished for almost shattering another. It’s a salve, an acknowledgement that you can become better, and I trust that you already are.

Bismuth links her broad fingers between hers, and exhales shakily. “Goodbye, old friend. I hope I’ll see you again one day. And hey, if any of you ever… bismuth me,” she jokes with a weak laugh, “you know where I’ll be.”

She gives her hand a gentle squeeze, and then breaks away. Her eyes can’t quite meet theirs.

“Go in peace,” Garnet says.

Greg and her watch in quiet respect as the rainbow haired Gem turns on a dime and departs from them, leaving both the fountain and the ranks of the Crystal Gems behind as she fades beyond the shadow of the grove. They wait. Not too long after, a bar of pure cyan light shoots to the sky, accompanied by that resonant bell like tone he’s long associated with the warp pads. At the sound some of the tension in his companion’s form finally eases. She reaches to wipe under her visor. Geeze, tonight’s really been a high emotion day for her as well, huh? First she’s reunited with an old friend she hasn’t seen face to face in millennia, and then later that evening she’s met with the terrifying threat of Steven’s mortality…wherein she learns that this same old friend is the reason he’s cleaved apart and cracked to begin with. And then there’s all of Rose’s lies, which— as much as he loved her— he’s sure he’ll also have to wrestle with in the coming season.

She sighs, and turns to him.

“And as for you...”

He scratches at his scalp. “Heh heh, am I in trouble too?”

She chuckles briefly, lips turning up in a soft smile. “No, of course not. The truth is, I need your help. I can’t always… be here, to look after Steven.”

His brow creases. Such oddly specific words from such an articulate person. ‘Be here?’ What does she mean, that she’s leaving the other Gems? That she’s going on some extended mission? And why now, of all times?

“What do you mean?”

“My future vision is clouded, incomplete, but I can sense we’re approaching a crossroads.” She lays both gems on his shoulders, and suddenly her visor flashes away, her three eyes intensely pouring into his, searching, beseeching. It’s the single most vulnerable expression he’s ever seen her convey.

“Greg. He trusts you with matters he doesn’t always trust us with. I know you’ve mostly kept your distance from Gem activities up to this point, but the time is coming when you won’t be able to separate these worlds anymore. I need you to keep a close watch on him. For me. Promise me you’ll do that.”

“O- of course,” he says, mind nervously whirring with an infinitude of uncertain futures based on this new information, and oh golly, does this even lay a finger to what she experiences every moment of every day? “But if you don’t mind me asking, what’s coming? What crossroads?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, her gaze falling wayward. “I can barely see the shape of our future anymore, only faint impressions. And… and that terrifies me. So much has changed so quickly.”

She’s nearly quivering, eyes blown wide, and Greg only now realizes the degree to which he took her unyielding strength for granted all this time. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his bare feet, reaching for an answer on what to do, what to say to support a person who until now, has never been in need of that support.

“Are… you handling things okay?”

Garnet clamps her lips together, taking a moment to ground herself once more. Then with a intentional flick of her fingers, her visor shimmers back into place.

“No,” she says evenly. “No, I’m afraid I’m not.”

He exhales with a prolonged, meandering sigh when the two of them finally reach the temple, solid crystal phasing into existence under his feet in a bright flash of cyan. Despite how long he’s known the Gems, a trip through the warp stream is a rarity for him. In the beginning that was mostly Pearl’s doing— with her staunch refusal of allowing humans anywhere near Gem structures vocal enough to convince Rose to leave him behind. Thankfully Pearl began to tolerate him enough in the later years of the relationship that she lifted the ban. After that he and Rose would occasionally steal away on dates in exotic locations only accessible by warp pad, and while he has many fond memories of his time with her in these breathtaking places he must admit he’s never been a big fan of this form of travel in the first place. He’s not keen on flying for similar reasons— it’s simply too disorientating. What can he say, he’s a wheels to the ground sort of guy.

He carefully steps down from the raised platform. In the loft, bundled under fresh bedding, Steven stirs awake and lifts his head upon hearing their arrival. Dark bags emphasize his puffy, reddened eyes. Greg’s heart seizes at the realization that he’s been crying all on his own, when no one can see him, in the dark.

“Dad, Garnet!” he whispers, forcing a weak grin. “You’re back!”

He tosses the dirty comforter on the floor next to the warp pad, and bounds across the room to him as fast as his weary joints possibly can.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, climbing up the stairs to the loft. He plops himself down at the foot of the mattress. “You all cozy now?”

His son snuggles even deeper under the sheets, clutching one of his stuffed bears to his chest. “Yup, all tucked in.”

“Good, good. I, uh- I’m really glad you’re okay.”

And at these words, exhaustion weighs Steven down like a twenty pound barbell, shattering his brave facade. He visibly deflates, his eyelids drooping.

“Yeah,” he sighs, blankly staring off into the distance.

Upon following the path of his glance, however, Greg realizes that he’s actually not staring at nothing. He’s watching Garnet first and foremost, who’s leaning against the fridge, but more importantly… Sitting smack dab in the middle of the kitchen counter is his inert gemstone, nestled within the cottony folds of a bath towel. Of course. He needn't a second guess of what has him so glum. He leans in to embrace him and Steven immediately reciprocates, flinging his arms around his neck so tight that given the option of comforting his kid or constant, steady airflow he’d choose to forgo the breathing every time.

“Can you sleep here tonight?” he asks, voice brimming with a vulnerability he hasn’t heard from him for a few years.

“Of course. I’ll never say no to a good couch, heh heh.”

“No, I mean— with me, up here. Please. I really, really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

His son pulls away, and peers at him with the most doleful, starry eyes one could muster. He can’t help but chuckle.

“You do know you ain’t gotta pull out the puppy dog eyes on me, right?”

“Yeah, but was it working?”

“All right,” Garnet interrupts, leisurely making her way up the steps to the loft. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

He nods in full agreement. It’s super late, and the kid desperately needs some rest after all the trauma of this evening. Working together, parent and guardian, they help tuck him back, snug and secure. Heeding to Steven’s request, he crawls under the covers as well, leaning against the far wall. Distantly, he notes that he left his van unlocked when Amethyst whisked him away to the fountain, but by this point he’s too comfortable here on this mattress to dream of making the trek across town to fix that. He’ll just have to trust it’ll be fine. Beach City is a small, secluded place, after all. Most residents barely lock their doors at night.

“Garnet, am I even able to fuse with my gem again?” Steven asks meekly, before she can turn to leave them to rest.

She pauses, balling her fist against her mouth as she considers.

“I can’t see everything, but I do know you’ll be alright,” she promises, and reaches down to brush through his dark curls. Delicately, she presses a kiss to his forehead. Steven’s eyes light up instantly. This time, he grins for real.

“Wow, homemade waffles? And we’re all sharing them as a family! Well, except Pearl, of course. But she’s still there with us.”

“That’s right. It’s together breakfast.”

The tension wound through Greg's spine eases at hope’s return to the atmosphere of this household. With a relieved smile, he rubs his hands together. “Guess I’m breaking out the ol’ waffle iron tomorrow, then!”

Steven throws his arms around the taller Gem. “Thank you,” he says, clinging tight. “I really needed that. Can you… maybe stay out here with us too?”

The puppy dog eyes return in force. Any weaker individual (himself included) would surely be powerless to resist this maelstrom of pure Universe charm, but Garnet’s no brittle Gem. From what little she confided to him back at the fountain, he bets she's in want of some alone time right now. True to his predictions, she smiles apologetically.

“I wish I could, but I have some delicate matters that need to be attended to in the temple.”

“Awwwww, man!”

“But I’ll see you at breakfast,” she adds before his burgeoning pout can fully reach his eyes.

This promise seems to placate the boy enough for him to relax into his pillow. His eyes droop as he watches Garnet amble down the stairs. He’s not the only one— Greg’s own eyes are beginning to ache from sheer exhaustion as well. A sudden spike of jealousy overtakes him, upon remembering how the rest of the Gems don’t get tired, and don’t require sleep. If only, if only. Oh boy, tomorrow’s going to be rough, isn’t it? It’s what… at least one in the morning by now? Squinting, he cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of Steven’s alarm clock.

It’s twelve forty-six. Close enough. With any luck he’ll drift off to sleep within the next fifteen or so minutes.

“I love you,” Garnet says from downstairs, directed at Steven. She shapes her fingers into a heart. His lips curve into a smile as he watches this. While he’s never doubted the depth of her affection for him, she isn't often this transparent about it. Perhaps she thought his son could use the reminder in the wake of a terrifying near-death experience.

“Love you too,” Steven chimes. “Goodnight!”

With that, the Gem retreats across the room to the temple door. She holds her palms up to the star insignia. The matching gems light up, glowing a vibrant blue and red, and the magical doorway slides open— almost as if dissolving from the middle— to reveal the private chamber held within. She steps forward and disappears into the bowels of the temple, leaving the two Universe boys bundled under the covers in an uneasy silence. Steven sighs under his breath. Greg can tell without looking at him that something is gnawing away at his son's heart, bubbling up within him like soda fizz.

“Dad?" he eventually asks, flopping onto his side to face him. "Where’s Bismuth? Did she leave from the fountain?”

Yup, there it is. He feared this was coming.

“She’s—“ he pauses, trying to determine how best to phrase this— “Garnet had a discussion with her. She’s not welcome here in the temple until further notice. As punishment.”

Understanding dawns on his face. “Ohhh, so she basically reverse grounded her."

“Exiled, yes.”

“Huh." Steven hugs his plush bear in the crook of his arm even tighter, and stares up at the ceiling beams with a concerningly numb expression. "Well... I guess that’s fair.”

Greg frowns.

“What’s eatin’ you up there, bud?”

“It’s just…" He tussles at the top hem of the sheets, his knuckles turning white. "Even though she tried to shatter me, and that was terrifying and all... I could tell she felt really guilty about it right after. And besides that, she was actually super kind. I hope she’ll be alright on her own.”

“You’re the one who’s super kind,” he says with a soft smile, and reaches out to ruffle his son’s hair. Steven playfully bats his hands away, cheeks flushing at the compliment. “Not everyone your age would ever stop to think about the people who harmed them in that way. Heck, not many adults would, either. I’m not sure I could.”

"But I've also been thinking... Peridot and Lapis tried to kill us when we first met them, too. And now we’re all friends, and it’s fine, right?"

Greg considers this, stroking at his beard. As much as Steven defends their oft-erratic behavior, he's not sure he personally considers those the ex-Homeworld Gems who are bunking in his family's old barn friends yet. The first time he met Lapis, she attempted to steal the ocean and broke his leg. And as for Peridot, she once pushed him off a roof with next to no warning. (God, he would've broken his leg again if it weren't for Garnet's future vision, huh?) But despite his current opinions on them, it's true that they both have a amicable rapport going with Steven (and for the most part, the rest of the Gems) these days. They've made an effort to learn, to grow with the lush Earth around them. Against the very unmovable nature of their kind, they've succeeded in the impossible. They've changed.

"So what if we’re being a little too hard on her?" Steven continues, eyes glistening. "What if it pushes her away forever?”

“Mmm. I understand where you’re coming from, but she didn’t just try to kill you. She almost succeeded. Sometimes there’s such a thing as being too compassionate, you know?” He chuckles, and props himself up on his elbow. “Heh. You really are like your mother, in that way. Y’see, once she told me about the first time she came across a pigeon, and apparently she—“

“Can we please not talk about her right now?” he interrupts, his voice strained.

“S-sure thing,” Greg stutters, mentally smacking himself for not considering the stress the topic of Rose has become for his son before he foolishly ran his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t think.“

Closing his eyes, Steven snuggles closer to him, scooting under the covers into his arms. “It’s okay,” he whispers, and yawns. “We’re okay.”

Notes:

-Amethyst reacts with more vocalized anger to the Pink Diamond bomb here because she has not yet crossed an integral moment of identity building character development- re: Beta/Earthlings. In canon, she tells Steven after A Single Pale Rose that none of the PD/rebellion stuff should even be their problem, and she’s absolutely right, but here I imagine she’s still at the point where she’s internally making it her problem when it doesn’t need to be. So she lashes out. Wrongfully.

-Meanwhile, Steven’s Gem self hasn’t reformed yet because he was only just healed from being cracked. I figure that takes a lot outta a Gem. He’ll need a bit more time before he’s ready.

__

Finally, when it comes to the long term plot, I’m very excited to say that I now have this one fully planned out. It’s gonna be a sort of alternate s4, with some original “episodes” and an arc forming the framework of the story. Should be fun. But anyways, your readership and support is so appreciated! From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

[fantasysamsclub]

Thought: Krav and Taako are on one of their many post story vacays and since they're actually quite relaxed, Taako has been burning spell slots like it's nothing. As a result, when the two get hassled by some baddies, he's defenseless for like the first time ever except for some shitty cantrips. This is how Taako gets to see Kravitz in full, pissed off, bard-turned-reaper mode for the second time ever and it's both hot and a little intimidating.

hey, anon? i accidentally wrote 2400 words of this. it went off the rails wildly. you know what you’ve done. this is going up on ao3 in a little bit, but first let’s just put this here

careful everyone, this one’s a bit mature. nothing adult happens, but there’s a lot of jokes about it!

So, here’s the thing. Taako?Not the type of guy to save his spell slots.

That would make him a Jenkins, andwho wants to be a Jenkins? No sir, no thank you. Taako’s the type of guy tothrow crab monsters via levitation at the Jenkins of the world. He’s not aboutto save his spell slots like they’re precious gems. Also? He’s level who the fuck cares after the apocalypseis all said and done, he’s got spell slots fordays. Which means he gets to take advantage of all the hella cool wizard powers twenty-four seven. Levitating groceries intohis house. Riding a magical binicorn to work every day. Using all manner ofdivination spells to magically telegraph dick pics into his boyfriend’s brainat work (he hadn’t had to do that in a while–photographs and texting were broughtover pretty shortly after he saved the world and opened communication betweentheir plane and the plane of Thought).

It’s not like he runs out of spell slots every day. Hekeeps a couple close to him just in case he gets the drop on him. But thatdoesn’t make him a Jenkins. It just makes him smart. The only time he runs hisspell slots dry is when he’s on vacation, because he knows impressive magicalfeats get Kravitz (you know, his boyfriend of ten years, the one he’s thinkingabout putting a ring on one of these days?)  hot under the collar, and of course he’s going to utilize that to its full potential onholidays.

They try to take a vacation once a year. They wrangle catsittersand clear out each other’s schedules for a week and a half. The Raven Queenmore than allows it. She loves that Kravitz has a social life now. Says hiswork is better now that he has something to fight for other than faith. Thisyear, they’re wandering all around, finding interesting geographical areas.It’s mostly an excuse to walk and have a good chat, something he actuallyenjoys with the guy. Crazy, right?

Kravitz deposits the two of them smack dab in the middleof a salt flat for a picnic. He’s been teasing at a surprise for a week and a half now, holding Taako’s hand just a bittighter every day. If he was going to spring some kind of surprise on Taako, hebetter do it here. Because, this place? Beautiful. Outstanding. Breathtaking. Theground reflects the sky, and it’s like walking on a big ass mirror. Or a hugegemstone. They’re both suddenly reminded that it’s been ten years since theyconfessed their love on a giant sapphire and saved the world, and Taako uses aspell slot to levitate the two of them while they’re kissing, and it’s just. Sogood.

He’s very liberal with his spell slots today.

‘Cause who’s going to attack them in the middle ofnowhere like this? Who even knows about this place? Taako sure didn’t. Kravitzjust whisked them both away with his goddess magic and for all Taako knew (orcared about) this was the (real) moon. So he uses magic to uncork the wine hebrought, and he uses magic to make shapes in the salt, and he definitely uses a spell slot or two tohop on Garyl with his man and ride off into the horizon.

And then they saw adragon.

A dragon made ofbones and brimstone.

He’s out of spell slots when this giant fuck-off dragoncomes along and ruins the oh-so perfect picnic spot with his hot-ass arm candy.Said arm candy presses two palms to his face, heaving out a groan. Of course work followed him here. He grumbles about plans andsurprises, kicks the salt at his feet like a child coming off of a tantrum. Taako’snot so sure why he’s this miffed, but, whatever. Dude always had a bit of atemper.

His attention was more on the dragon for now.

It hits him, as he watches the animated mass of bones andfire, that he miiiight have just usedhis last spell slot to conjure up that prismatic light show that reflected amoving scene from Paul Blart 3 into the salt flats.

And. Here’s the thing. Taako’s not defenseless, that would be silly. He’s an arcane engineer and onehell of an improviser, he can get him and his boyfriend out of this mess withhis god-awful cantrips and a little bit of elbow grease, right? He’s not a hugefan of hard work, but he’d rather do heavy lifting than dying, so. Elbow grease it is.

So he steps forward, places a hand on Kravitz’ shoulderand tells him to step back. Kravitz excitedly steps behind him, ready for ashow. The whole foundation of their relationship is built on the fact thatTaako bails Kravitz out when he’s in trouble. That’s how they met. He knows Kravitz thinks it’s hot,he’s taking advantage of that whenever he can. Taako has saved Kravitz’ niceass plenty of times, seen the stars in his eyes after executing a wellchanneled spell, reaped the many benefitsof showing off his power in front of his easily impressed man. It’speacocking, he knows, except a hell of a lot less creepy since he’s not a pickupartist and only doing it for his boyfriend’s benefit.

Also, the way Kravitz relaxes and shoots him a smile ashe watches Taako prepare his first spell takes away any concern Taako wouldhave about looking like an asshole.

But, as he goes over the list of cantrips he knows in hishead, and looks at the vast amount of nothingsurrounding him, no environment to manipulate with his shitty spells, Taakorealizes he’s in over his head. He could try blasting Ray of Frost at it abunch of times, but even though cantrips didn’t expend any slots, he couldstill get exhausted using them over and over again.

It takes one hit from the dragon for Taako to finally understandthe impossibility of the situation.

It also takes one hit from the dragon for Kravitz to launchhimself out of the spectator seat and into the action. This time, he’s the oneto place a hand on Taako, the one to tell him to step backwards with a cockywink and an overconfident smile. That dragon took about half of Taako’s hitpoints away in one swipe, so, yeah, he’sgonna step back, thank you very much.

Kravitz walks towards the dragon, sputtering insults upto its face. The dragon reels back with each one, and Taako remembers: right, he was a bard. Vicious mockery.He’s got about twenty different insults for this motherfucker and all of themare hand-tailored to the dragon like a fine suit. Kravitz is making these up onthe fly.

The closer he gets, the more magic Taako can see aroundhim. Magic distorts reality in a way that is visible to people who have a goodenough hold on it. Kravitz is bends the air around him and sends it flying inall directions, catching the dragon off guard and sending a gale of wind intoTaako. Blown away metaphorically and physically. Nice.

And then he gets out his scythe, and Taako can’t even process a nice dick joke to go alongwith that before he starts carving into this dragon. He knocks bones off thestructure in wide arcs. Taako would notice that the bones kept magicallyreforming onto the dragon if he wasn’t so enthralledby the performance. Kravitz wasn’t in his formal wear, just a nice tunic heput on for vacations like these, so there weren’t many layers in the way ofgiving Taako a show. His work uniformnever showed his arms exposed, and fuck, seeinghim work like that did things toTaako. That image would be appearing in his dreams and a few fantasies formonths. It didn’t look like Kravitz was winning, but he offered enough cockyjabs and overdramatic slices that Taako didn’t care.

But, eventually, even Kravitz could tell he was beat. He dispelledhis scythe and looked at the salt flats around him, taking a moment to think.Taako rose to the balls of his feet, worried. He didn’t have a moment to think, he needed to end this or call for help.

Kravitz’ body disappeared in a puff of black smoke,replaced by a softball-sized ball of white light. His soul. It pulsated in theair for a few moments before lowering down into the salt flats.

The rumbling beneath Taako’s feet made him grin from earto ear.

The salt on the ground moved upwards in a mass thatlooked vaguely humanoid. Just as big as the dragon. Bigger, even. Taako has abouta split second to admire the majesty of it all before it swings down on the dragonin one swift motion. The dragon and his boyfriend the salt monster duke it outfor an amount of time that feels too fast and too slow at the same time. Taakocould watch this forever. Sure, he’s usually the one doing the protecting outof the two of them. He’s the wizard that saved the world. But, damn, is it nice to get the same treatmentevery once in a while.

It takes a bit, but Kravitz manages to get the dragon’ssoul isolated. The bones fall to the ground and disintegrate into thin air. The sand shifts itself back into place and Kravitz’ souljumps out of it. He turns into a skeleton (also hot) and takes the dragon’ssoul in his hands.

Kravitz turns around and shouts off in Taako’s direction.“Is it okay if I go put this back real quick, babe?”

Taako grabs for the basket. “Yeah, I’ll set usup!”

“Don’t open the basket!” Kravitz stomps hisfoot into the sand and shrieks. “It’s a surprise!”

Taako rolls his eyes and sits his ass down in the salt.Realizes it’s probably a good thing Kravitz had to cut out and leave for aminute. He really enjoyed watching the show. Probably too much? Taako was aboutthis close to having to readjust hispants, 'cause that whole scene? That whole situation? The hottest hisboyfriend’s ever been, probably. Nice that hadn’t faded away after ten years ofdating the guy.

He thinks about it. Ten years. Eleven, if you count thechunk of time they dated before theapocalypse. They’ve been living together for nine of those years. Taako’s beenthinking about marriage for seven of those years, but just hasn’t–there wasn’ta good time to say it. Words are hard for him, okay? Cut him some slack.

Kravitz comes back, throwing Taako out of his thoughts,puts all his skin back on with his vacation wear. Taako launches himself ontothe dude, 'cause, again, that wasnice. Hot. A little intimidating? But in a hot way. Damn.

Taako says all that to Kravitz and he laughs, nuzzles hisnose into Taako’s hair. How can this asshole afford to be so cute when he justspent the better part of an hour taking down a fucking dragon?

“Now you know why I like watching you do it.” Hetakes Taako’s face in his hands and watches him with a look so sweet that it shouldbe banned by the Fantasy FDA for too much sugar content.

And. Okay. Listen. Listen.Taako might have had to hold himself back from pinning Kravitz up againstthe salt a couple seconds ago, but this? The way Kravitz is looking at him? Thelandscape around them? Fuck it. He’s ready to stop thinking about marrying Kravitz and actually do the damn thing. Hecan’t not marry him at this point.

Kravitz coughs, hands still on Taako’s face. “Hey,I–”

“Let’s get married.”

His boyfriend (hopefully fiancé, in a couple seconds, ifTaako didn’t royally screw this up) sputters out a barrage of laughter, botharms hugging Taako tight. Taako would be offended if he didn’t recognize thisas Kravitz’ fond laugh, but you spend ten years with a guy and you instantlyknow the difference between a malicious laugh and a loving one. It’s thatrecognition that forces Taako to do the same, giggling and tackling him in ahug, bringing him up close.

“I can’t believe you beat me to it,” Kravitzsays, eyes sparkling.

Taako sticks out his tongue teasingly. “Is that whatyou took me here for?”

“Yes.” Kravitz kisses him. “There’s a ringin the basket.”

“We can get to that in a minute.” Taakostraightens his back, pins his shoulders behind him, and frowns.“You,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at Kravitz, “did notanswer my question.”

“I thought it was obvious.” 

"I want to hear it.” 

"I would love to marry you,” he says, and itfills Taako’s heart so full it feels like it should burst. “If you’ll haveme.”

“If I’ll haveyou?” Taako snorts and blows a raspberry into Kravitz’ cheek.“Babe, you just–fuckin–that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.You–cocky motherfucker, just–going at that dragon. As a salt man.”

“It really should have seen that coming.”Kravitz gestures around the flats. “Go to a place like this and you’reguaranteed to be as-salt-ed.”

“Engagement redacted,” Taako says, unable tohide his smile, “stop that.”

Kravitz grins and leans in closer. “If you dislikethem so much, you can somersalt away.”

“Dumb! Horrible! Not even relevant!” Taakolaughs harder than he’d thought was possible, and then the hit from the dragonechoes in his torso. He starts coughing, and Kravitz fusses over him, handsgently roving over his abdomen, fingers finding the sharp marks from the dragon’sclaws.

“…Do you need to go regain your health?”

“Uh, probably.” He hangs onto Kravitz’shoulders for support. “Just, uh, a little woozy.”

“We’ll finish this picnic later. We need to get youhome.” Kravitz picks up the basket and summons his scythe. “I wouldn’twant to rub salt in the wound.”

Taako does kickhim in the shin for that one. “God, I can’t believe I’m engaged to you.”

“You asked for it,” he says, and takes themhome.

[wowerehouse]

Levaden flopped down against a rock with her usual grace.

“I swear that kid’s gonna break her hand,” she grumbled, ears twitching with agitation.

“That kid’s not much younger than me,” Velshada pointed out, not looking up from where she was carefully brushing out her griffon’s fur. Lightning obligingly raised a wing so that Vel could get at the mussed fur at her joint, and Levaden ducked half a second too late. “If she’s not older. Watch your head, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny...you know what I mean. It hurts watching her.”

Privately, Vel agreed, but there were enough people doubting Lin Tenderpaw right now. “Just because we’re all too soft to build up callouses through hard work that way,” she said, pitching her voice just loud enough for the young pandaren to hear, “doesn’t mean we should try to stop her.”

Levaden’s ears perked infinitesimally. It was a kind of smile, Vel thought, an approving one; but then they twitched back again. When she spoke, her voice was quiet.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Vel matched her tone. “But it has to be her choice. We all know that.”

“I wish this asshole could get it through his thick--”

Velshada threw a curry brush at her head and hoped neither of the pandaren had noticed.

“Sorry,” whispered Levaden. Taking a breath, she shook her head rapidly and sat up and gestured at the griffon. “You know, I was never introduced to her properly. You know I never pass on the chance to meet a pretty girl. You don’t see many like this lioness in Alliance requisition.”

“You’re awful, this is Lightning, and she’s mine.”

Levaden paused halfway through reaching out to scratch at Lightning’s mane.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know how much he meant to you.”

Velshada ducked out from under Lightning’s wing to smile at her. “Thunder’s fine,” she promised. “Talet wanted me to have a flying mount after we got back from--Northrend. Too many places where we had to leave the horses and either go on foot or borrow griffons, and that gets dangerous. She got me Lightning as a late birthday present, officially. I sold Thunder to a friend of ours. Well--a clerk who works for Talet’s fiancee, actually.” To punctuate the statement, she reached out and touched her stirrups, tilting them into the light.

Levaden’s ears spasmed wildly. “No kidding! Good for her. I mean, I’m assuming?”

Vel tucked her hair back in place and decided not to mention calm, graphic threats of death delivered high above Blade’s Edge. Talet was curled up in a sunny spot a few yards away, after all. “It’s good,” she said softly. “Rinda’s wonderful. They deserve each other.”

“Well, I’m surprised you think anyone’s good enough for Talet. Now I’ve got to meet her sometime.” Levaden said casually, though the tilt of her ears and a softness around her eyes said her happiness was genuine. Curious, she leaned forward to examine the stirrup cup Vel had pointed out. For a moment she just glanced at it; then her ears shot up in shock and she gave a low whistle. “So she’s a dwarf, I’m assuming.”

Vel dipped her head to confirm it. Levaden’s surprise was warranted; at first glance the stirrups were just a slightly shiny part of Lightning’s tack, slung over a low fence. A custom piece, to be certain; covered, with a wider base than was common, much better suited for draenei hooves and impossible to result in the rider being dragged, or a broken ankle from a hoof slipping through and being caught.

Any closer inspection, however, revealed nothing short of a work of art.

It wasn’t too much; Rinda was mother to five children under the age of thirteen, and even paladins weren’t that well-subsidized, even in Ironforge. But it was an engagement gift that met all traditional standards. No precious metals or gemstones; Rinda and Talet were practical people, and this was a tool. But it was well-tooled steel, etched in strong lines with symbols that had brought a lump to Velshada’s throat when she’d first seen them.

Draenei carvings--the kind of deeply sacred and traditional markings that she now knew adorned the walls of Shattrath, nothing a dwarf smith could have used so correctly on their own; either Rinda had consulted with a priestess of the Naaru, or her smith had. An intricate web that created the symbols for home, family, and freedom respectively; embossed at the apex of the roller was the symbol for mourning, faced on the flip side by one Velshada had actually needed to find a Vindicator to translate for her--”joy”.

Woven in and around these were glyphs of protection and haste; under the cup was a shaman’s sigil for fair winds. The glyphs themselves incorporated strains of sub-precious metals for the most part, to enhance the enchantments. There was one issue, which Velshada had noted immediately--properly, the fair-wind sigil linking to a Draenei “freedom” glyph should be laced with truesilver.

Whatever smith Rinda had used was a genius. The alloy they’d created matched the magical resonance almost exactly--and could never be used to harm a worgen.

Levaden couldn’t know the meaning behind half the symbols; but she clearly picked up enough, as she looked the stirrups over.

“Remind me,” she said finally. “Who’s she marrying again?”

Vel had to laugh at the sudden break in tension. “Long story,” she said. “It’s...where Rinda’s from, at least, you’re not actually engaged unless you’ve exchanged something, it’s not binding. Not...real. But for Talet the whole idea of an engagement gift is...bad luck, I guess.”

“Is that a Gilnean thing, or...?”

Vel lowered her voice, as if that would keep the half-asleep worgen from overhearing. “I think it’s mostly...a Talet thing.” When Levaden just nodded and waited for her to continue, she tried to contain a wince. “Things you own are...tools. Placing that much emphasis on a thing, anything...it symbolizes too much. It becomes a representation of your bond, and giving that much importance to something that could get lost, or broken, or stolen...”

She hoped Levaden wouldn’t make her spell out what a decade spent living feral in the woods, hounded every moment of every day by the ever-present threat of hunters in horseback, might do to a person’s willingness to grow attached to any single possession.

“So, they compromised,” she finished. “Rinda needed to give her something and Talet needed to not receive anything, so. She made weatherproof cloaks for all the kids, since she got...really good at that, in Gilneas. And I quote...since there’s no point telling me to keep my feet on the ground and she wouldn’t ask it of me even if I’d listen, Rinda wants me to carry some of Ironforge with me, so I’ll always be grounded somewhere.”

Something happened in Levaden’s eyes. It made Vel curl up against Lightning’s side to keep her stomach in one place.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Levaden said softly. “There’s some serious symbolism there, huh?"

“Yeah.” Nothing about Levaden’s voice was making Vel feel any less lightheaded. “Engagement gifts are meant to represent your commitment to each other, right? So. They’re taking care of each other’s...” She fluttered a hand self-consciously. “Dependents, I guess. That way the exchange is what’s important, not the gift itself.”

“You can say each other’s kids if you want,” Levaden pointed out, glancing at Talet. “Trust me. She wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s not that.” Vel could feel her skin burning and hoped Talet really was asleep. “I really don’t...she’s not my mother. I don’t really think of her that way. She’s my...mentor. That’s just the truth. I guess--” She cut herself off with a wince, but she’d already gotten this far. “Would it sound stupid to say that I don’t think of her as my mom but I think of myself as her daughter?”

Without so much as blinking, Levaden said bluntly, “You met Shandris Feathermoon, right?”

“Yes--what? What does General Feathermoon have to do with anything?”

“Ever see her in the same room as Tyrande?”

Smiling in spite of herself as they returned to solid ground, Velshada rolled her eyes. “Levaden,” she said. “When would I ever have been in the same room as Tyrande Whisperwind?”

Levaden threw her hands in the air, eyes wild. “She sneaks up on you!”

Vel couldn’t help it; she laughed so sharply she had to stuff a wad of robe in her mouth to not shriek.

“I’m serious, Velshada! The woman moves like a damn nightsaber! Look, I’m not joking this time--”

[kurokoros]

In the Bones: Part Two

Title: In the Bones

Rated: M (for violence and later chapters)

Words: 7K

Summary:  Natsu and Lucy are from warring clans, each acting as a powerful warrior for their people. Natsu’s clan consists of skilled blacksmiths, crafting weapons from the earth and enchanting them with lost elemental magic. Lucy’s people are Spiritwalkers, powerful seers who can make contracts with ancient spirits from the bones they leave behind. (enemies to lovers AU)

AN: New AU for @constellunaa‘s birthday! Happy birthday Shana! Have a lovely day <3 This one is based on her warring clans AUwhich is AMAZING.

*also on FF, so please be sure to drop a review there and follow the story if you want to!

One |

Natsu turns back to the forge, heat sweltering as he continues to melt down iron for another weapon, a request from Erza for something special. Sneering, he turns away from the fire, eyes rolling. Erza is good for their business, but he can't imagine where she keeps all her weapons or even begin to fathom why she needs so many. Natsu's first blade stayed with him for nearly a decade until he was forced to leave it behind at the lake, the weapon dull and chipped with age.

The weapons are ceremonial to his family, the Dragneel line older than most in the Dragonborne clan. In some stories they even founded the clan, learning their magic from the dragons themselves, their family a long line of fire users. Other legends state that a descendant of the Dreyar family stole lightning from the Gods to defeat a great evil. All are just stories, but the Dragneel line has always taken great pride in their name.

Each of them are gifted a weapon on their tenth birthday and taught how to enchant the metal themselves. Igneel still has his first weapon after thirty odd years, a small dagger with a pearl embedded in the hilt. He takes it with him everywhere, even if he no longer uses it. Even Mikhail, Gajeel's father, still keeps his very first battle axe, though he chose to take his wife's name.

It's odd to him, how Erza seems to discard her weapons when they dull.

Erza's a fierce warrior, even if she can't control elemental magic herself, he won't deny that, but she builds no trust in her weapons with how many she has. Learning to use a blade isn't the same as having faith that it will protect you. In the same way he doesn't trust weapons not made by his hands, he doesn't trust a blade he isn't familiar with, even if the design is similar.

He wouldn't dare tell her that, however. Erza's temper is an awful thing. Perhaps when he was younger he would antagonize her, but he's learned better over the years. He could only suffer so many hits from the older girl before realizing he'd had enough.

Of course, that doesn't stop him from running his mouth around her at times.

He settles into the old, wooden chair he keeps in the forge for slow days. Unlike Gajeel, he's nearly finished his orders for the week, spending nearly every waking hour in the forge since his encounter with Lucy and the Skinwalker. The fire is the only thing that keeps the image of it from his mind, the rotten flesh and inhuman muzzle of the creature burned into his thoughts. It haunts his thoughts and dreams, stealing into his sleep and waking him in the dead of night.

He never would have believed Lucy if he hadn't seen it for himself, and he doubts anyone else would believe what he saw. Gajeel would mock him for his stories and Igneel would think him sick, not that Natsu would blame either of them. He hardly believes himself at times.

The only good to come from the images plaguing him has been his work ethic.

Natsu rolls Lucy's pendant between his fingers, the bone smooth against his calloused fingertips, a calming presence at his side. A distraction. He's been playing with it more recently, ever since they met near the lake that day, nearly a week ago. Ever since he caught a look at their monsters and heard the stories Lucy told him. At times he can hardly believe what he saw and what he heard, a beast dressed in rotting flesh. And the sound it made.

His grip grows tight on the carved bone, a shiver wracking his spine. Natsu has dreams about that sound, the screaming that sounded more animal than man, but like nothing else he has ever heard. It rattled him more than Natsu would ever be willing to admit. And the thought of being chased by one of those things again, of having his skin pulled back and stolen from him, it makes him sick down to his very core.

They stayed in that thicket for what seemed like hours, until the last rays of the sun were dimming in the sky and Lucy warned him that they needed to leave. They hunt at night, she told him, afraid to see themselves in the light. She left him at the edge of the forest, her wolves circling the pair of them as they crept through Dragonborne territory. She was on edge the entire walk, one hand on her weapon, and it was only then that Natsu realized he'd forgotten his own by the water, though he didn't dare go back for it, not so close to dusk.

Cold fingers wrap around his shoulder.

Natsu surges to his feet, knocking over the chair as he whirls around, reaching for the knife at his side and ripping it from its hilt. He nearly spills the boiling metal resting over the fire in his rush, the iron slowly melting down into a malleable substance. It's a foolish move on his part. Despite the magic in his ring, molten iron would still scald him, leaving him scarred from the burns. There's no magic to protect him from that kind of heat.

He clenches Lucy's necklace tightly in his fist.

Natsu stills when he sees Gajeel standing before him, his cousin's hands thrown up in surrender, eyes wide as he stares at Natsu, startled by his near violent reaction. Natsu has been tense lately, though he's loath to admit it. This isn't the first time he's been surprised by Gajeel in the last week. Even Wendy managed to surprise him once, and she's the least threatening person he's ever known.

Gajeel, while concerned for his friends and family, is rarely one to pry unless he deems it necessary. Natsu can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen Gajeel truly ask about someone's well being. It isn't for lack of caring, quite the opposite, in fact. He's just never been the best with words.

"Bit jumpy there, Salamander?" Gajeel jokes, though there's a flicker of concern behind the amusement in his gaze. Natsu sighs when his cousin steps into the forge, peering up at the rows of weapons lining the walls, a greater amount than last week. Gajeel has been catching up, taking Igneel's reprimanding to heart.

Natsu wets his lips. "Something like that," he murmurs, shaking himself as he reaches for the tipped chair. Gajeel watches as he rights it, Natsu feeling his eyes follow the movement. "What do you want, Gajeel?" he snaps, gaze flicking to his cousin for a moment. Gajeel merely shrugs, leaning back against Natsu's workbench and reaching for a jeweled knife Natsu has been working on for days.

Gajeel twirls the knife in his fingers, the rubies embedded in the hilt flickering in the firelight, two dozen of them. It took Natsu hours to find a gemstone large enough to work with, and even longer to cut the pieces. He's better with metalwork than gem cutting, but he managed, not wanting to bring the stone to Jura. As kind as the man is, it would take him a month to cut the stone, ever the perfectionist, and Natsu simply didn't have the patience for it.

"For anyone in particular?" Gajeel asks instead, quirking an impressed brow at the knife. It's slim, more decorative than anything, but Natsu likes the look of it. There's a slight curl to the tip, and a decorative pattern etched into the metal, filigree following the curve of the blade. It's easily one of the nicest things he's made, though he has no purpose for it.

Gajeel weighs the knife in his hands, twisting it between his fingers to see every inch of the blade. "Why?" Natsu jokes, sliding his own knife back into place at his side. A smirk tugs at his lips, amusement flooding through him as Gajeel appraises the blade. His cousin always has been something of a collector. "You looking to make an offer?"

"Hardly," Gajeel scoffs, expression teasing. "I could do better." Natsu will give him that, but it doesn't mean he likes it. "It's pretty. Too decorative for my tastes, but nice enough." Natsu snorts, shaking his head as he turns to the boiling metal, noting that the temperature isn't quite high enough yet.

It's about as close to a compliment as he'll ever get from Gajeel.

Leaving the metal, he swipes the blade from Gajeel's hands, noting the shrewd look in his eyes. As much as Natsu respects his cousin as a forger himself, it doesn't mean he wants Gajeel stealing his designs.

Natsu slips the jeweled knife into his belt, just beside the other, Lucy's pendant still dangling from the hilt, slapping against his hip with every step he takes. He's grown more and more aware of it since he met her in the woods, the pendant heavy at his side, a familiar weight.

It thrums against his hip, flashing in the firelight.

"What do you want, Gajeel?" Natsu questions. "If you're here to criticize my work, you can leave." Natsu tosses him a playful look over his shoulder, fanning the fire with his magic. It's been growing colder lately, winter coming for them, if only briefly. The cold hardly reaches them this far south, nothing more than a nasty chill and the smallest of snowstorms, but in recent years the winter has been growing longer, harsher. Not enough to drive away game or destroy their crops, but it has been concerning.

It's been happening slowly over the last ten years: the nights colder, the snow thicker. It isn't a problem for them, not yet, but if it keeps getting colder…

Natsu shakes his head, raising the fire's temperature to one he likes. Sweat beads at his neck, slipping down his bare chest and dripping to the ground. The heat pricks at his skin to near unbearable temperatures, but he ignores the sweltering feeling, used to the forge's fire. He's been working here since he was a child, his skin has grown thick to the fire.

"Wasn't criticizin'," Gajeel argues, snorting as he glares at Natsu. He reaches for another blade, a hatchet, and surveys it with a critical eye, tracing the shape of it and weighing it in his hands. "If I was criticizin', I'd tell ya the design was weak." He quirks a brow, waving the small hatchet in his hand teasingly and tapping a finger against the warped handle.

Rolling his eyes, Natsu shoots Gajeel a nasty look over his shoulder, to which his cousin merely grins, shrugging off his annoyance. He decides not to respond, knowing better than to feed into Gajeel's mocking. They used to fight wildly when they were younger, tearing apart half the town on bad days.

"Yer mom 's lookin' for ya," he tells Natsu a moment later, still playing with the old hatched in his hands, one Natsu made years ago, back when he was fifteen, maybe younger.

He was going to bring it home for Wendy to look at, his sister nervous about crafting her own weapon for the first time. He's hoping to make her feel better, remind her that they all start out the same way. Gajeel isn't wrong, the design is weak on the hatchet, the proportions off and the blade too thin, brittle.

Natsu glances back at Gajeel, straightening as he frowns. "What does she want?" he asks lowly, brows knitting in concern. His mother rarely seeks him out, always trusting him to be off on his own. Natsu rarely leaves the shop most days, too busy with his work to go venturing into the woods like he used to, though he'd like to explore more of the territory around them.

For Grandine to seek him out something serious must have happened.

Gajeel shrugs, his eyes narrowing just a tick. "Fuck if I know," he grumbles back, crossing his arms and leaning further back against the workbench. He twirls the hatchet between his fingers, tapping the blade with his thumb. "I ran into 'er at the market earlier. Told me to come get you. I didn't ask." He places the weapon back on the table, rolling his shoulders. "Sounded important though, and ya know how yer mom gets."

Something bitter coils in his gut when he thinks about his mother. She worries, he knows, especially lately. He hasn't been home much this last week, spending his nights in the forge with the fires burning hot enough for him to feel it even with his enchanted jewelry. He gained a nasty burn the other night, just below his elbow on his forearm, a novice mistake on his part. He heated the flames with rare fire crystals from the quarry, fanning the flames to unimaginable temperatures, not even the magic in his blood able to protect him.

Igneel would be ashamed of him for it. He should know better after so many years, Igneel taught him better than that. He would never have done it, aware of how powerful the flames can be, but he remembered what Lucy said, about how those beasts fear the light.

Natsu nods, sighing as he turns away from the fire, the early morning glow casting flickering shadows on the walls, like monsters rising up from the earth to swallow them. He and Gajeel used to play a game with the forge when they were much younger, the fire would roar and they would scream back, fierce as they fought back the monster hiding in the fire, the pair of them great warriors for their clan.

Their fathers would only laugh and smile, encouraging them to fight the invisible monsters that only they could see. It was a game then, but Natsu doesn't see the fun in fighting monsters anymore, not when he's seen real ones.

He glances at Gajeel, feeling his cousin's eyes on him, and Natsu's met with a frown, Gajeel's expression pensive, shrewd. There's a question in his eyes, but Gajeel doesn't ask and Natsu doesn't answer. Their eyes lock for a long, heavy moment, and Natsu looks away first, unable to stand the concern in Gajeel's gaze. He doesn't want to make them worry, least of all Gajeel, his stoic cousin more likely to punch him than hug him.

"I should go," he murmurs, pushing away from the bench. Natsu takes a step towards the exit, only looking back to peer at the still melting iron above the fire, Erza's order still heating into something malleable. He can't just leave it to burn, not wanting to risk it spilling or setting fire to the forge. Natsu's gaze flicks to Gajeel, his cousin still staring at him. "Will you watch it for me?" he asks slowly. "The plans are on my desk." He jerks his chin towards the back, the wooden desk overflowing with plans, though only one stands out, spread across the wooden surface carefully.

Gajeel nods, but says nothing else, though Natsu wasn't expecting him to. He exits the forge without another word, leaving Gajeel behind. Natsu feels Gajeel's eyes following him as he goes, the weight of his gaze heavy as Natsu steps out of the forge and its sweltering heat. Sweat clings to him, a smoky smell hanging in the air, and he takes a moment to breathe in the sweet tasting air for the first time in days.

A violent cough wracks his body as the crisp, clean air tickles his throat and lungs. It takes him a moment to compose himself, but eventually the breeze becomes more soothing than harmful, his lungs adjusting to the freshness.

The walk back to his family home is long, but passes quickly, Natsu lost in his thoughts. The forges are located closer to the center of town then his parents home near the edge of the forest. They live in a quiet place, far from the bustle of town, in a house Igneel built himself near twenty years ago, back when he first asked Grandine to marry him.

It never used to bother him, the woods behind his home, the shadows cast by the trees, and the sound of the wind ripping through the leaves, branches tapping against the windows. Now, a small, irrational, part of him is afraid to go home, afraid to look outside and see the looming shadows behind his house.

It's silly of him, and Natsu feels a pull of anger in his gut whenever he thinks of his reluctance to return home, where there's nothing to do but dwell on his thoughts and picture the creature in the woods. It shouldn't scare him as much as it did. Igneel taught him to be braver than that.

He misses his family, and his cat, and he misses sleeping in his bed. He hasn't stopped working for days, hardly finding the time to rest, and only now do his limbs feel heavy, his muscles aching from overuse.

It's time he goes home.

A shadow moves across the window as he walks along the stone path, small and too far away to make out clearly, but he knows it's Wendy in an instant, the shape too short to be his mother and too solid to be a trick of the light. A grin pulls at his mouth, and Natsu presses his lips together to smother his smile as the figure disappears from sight.

He isn't able to manage it for long.

The front door is thrown open wide, wood crashing against the stone wall of the house with so much force it could splinter. "Natsu!" a familiar voice shouts, Wendy a blur as she bolts towards him, nearly tripping over herself in her rush to get to him. The smile on her face squeezes something in his chest, and the ache leaves his limbs as his sister crashes into him.

Natsu stumbles back, gasping as Wendy's full weight slams into him, her arms curling around him tightly. She clings to his neck, skinny limbs locking around his, as if afraid he might let go. Natsu chuckles as he wraps her up in a hug, lifting her straight off the ground and spinning her in a tight circle. Wendy giggles in his ear, shrieking with laughter as her hair whips around them, tickling at his nose.

Eventually, he settles, ceasing his swinging and lowering Wendy back to the ground. He's reluctant to release her entirely, gaze locked on the woods behind her as he keeps her tucked close against him. Similarly, Wendy refuses to let him go, squeezing him tighter when he moves to step away.

"You're back," she whispers against his ear, fingers twisting in the damp fabric of his scarf, looped loosely around his throat. Wendy pushes up on her toes to get a better grip on him, trembling with the effort to hold herself upright. A twinge of guilt stabs at him, Natsu wincing as he wraps his own arms tighter around her, unsure if she can feel the apology in his embrace.

He twists to press a kiss against the side of her head. "Course I am," he murmurs against her, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "I've just been busy." It isn't quite a lie, but it feels like one. He hadn't meant to worry Wendy, or anyone else, he just needed time to think.

Wendy nods against his chest, fisting at his scarf, and finally pulls back enough to meet his eyes. Natsu stills when her dark brown eyes lock with his, an uncomfortable prickling sensation working its way up his spine. He has to force himself not to look away from her, unnerved by her intense gaze. Wendy always has had an odd way of seeing through lies, knowing exactly when something's bothering him.

It's why he's been so reluctant to come home recently, sure that Wendy would take one look at him and know exactly what he saw in the woods, why he's been hidden away in the forge all week. Only, he doesn't want her knowing, having to keep that image locked away inside her mind for days. What he saw in the woods rattled him to his core, and Natsu knows Wendy is more sensitive than him, afraid of her own shadow when it creeps up behind her.

Her eyes meet his, expression blank for a long moment as she stares, peeling back the layers of his thoughts. Natsu forces a smile onto his lips, trying not to squirm, pinned by her gaze, and Wendy suddenly smiles in return, the pensive look in her eyes disappearing as quickly as it came. Natsu releases a relieved breath, relaxing only the slightest, aware of her watching him, but Wendy only lurches back into his embrace, dragging him into another tight embrace.

"I'm glad you're home," she mumbles against his ear, squeezing him around the waist and propping her chin against his shoulder. Her breath puffs against the side of his face, something slick and wet slipping down his neck. It's with a wince that Natsu realizes she's crying.

Natsu cards his fingers through her hair, leaning back just enough to look at her face. "Hey now," he whispers, tilting her chin up with a gentle finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. "None of that," Natsu chides teasingly, wiping a wayward tear from her face. "You know I'll always come back, right?" Wendy sniffs, but nods, and Natsu grins down at her, ruffling her hair. "Atta girl!"

Wendy steps away from him, giggling madly, and shrieks when he reaches out to tug on a strand of her hair. She swats at him, puffing up her cheeks, and a surge of affection sweeps through his chest as he stares down at his pouting younger sister, her eyes sparkling with humor.

"Mom is going to kill you," she teases him, reaching out and catching one of his hands in both of hers, something reminiscent of a smirk tugging at her lips as she tugs him a step towards the house.

Natsu casts a wary look at the woods behind the stone house, watching the shadows as they flit through the trees, taking shape into a monstrous form. He blinks and the shadows are gone, sunlight spilling through the branches, the sun high in the sky.

He turns back to Wendy, a silly smile on his face. "Oh? And why would Mom do that?" he jokes. Natsu reaches out to pinch Wendy's nose, and she squeaks as she ducks out of the way, slapping at his hand, her grip tightening on the fingers laced through hers. She frowns at him, huffing, and Natsu chuckles, amused by her disgruntled expression.

Wendy rolls her eyes instead of replying, snorting softly, and Natsu knows he's in trouble even before Wendy pulls him in through the front door. His mother, Grandine, rarely ever seeks him out unless something serious has happened, trusting him to come home and take care of himself. For her to send Gajeel to find him is concerning, as is the sudden shadow that crosses Wendy's face.

Her eyes slip to the floor, hand tightening around his. Her nails dig into the back of his hand to the point of pain, and Natsu frowns as he follows Wendy into the dark house, the front room eerily silent and colder than usual. His gaze travels along the stone walls, the hearth devoid of fire and the room too quiet, as if he's stepped into a home for ghosts. Wendy releases his hand, but Natsu catches her before she can leave, unwilling to be alone in the home that doesn't feel like his own.

"Wendy," he murmurs, crouching in front of his sister so that he has to look up at her, only barely meeting her gaze as she stares at her feet, avoiding his eyes. He squeezes her fingers, a crease forming between his brows when he watches the rapid flicker of emotions crossing her face: confusion, terror, something melancholy that makes his stomach flip. He doesn't like the look that crosses her face, Wendy beginning to tremble as she clasps his hand between both of hers. "Wendy, what's wrong?" Natsu brushes his thumb along her knuckles, hoping to coax her into looking at him, but she only shakes her head.

Her eyes meet his, teary, and his breath catches.

"It's Acnologia, isn't it?" he whispers, a growl to his tone as he thinks about their clan leader. He hasn't seen much of the man in the last week, though Natsu hasn't left the forge most of the week. He should have been paying more attention to what was happening, but he's been so distracted lately. Acnologia always has been a tricky man, violent and brash, and he's threatened families before to get what he wants. Igneel is his greatest adversary for head of the clan, the rightful successor chosen by Makarov, and Natsu remembers being threatened before to keep his father in line.

Natsu trembles with anger, his lips curving back when he sees Wendy nod, her hands finally leaving his to wrap around herself protectively, making herself smaller. A lick of anger burns in his veins, Natsu clenching his fists tightly as he thinks of what the man may have done, who he may have hurt now.

His only relief is that Wendy is fine. Shaken, perhaps, but unharmed. And he thinks his mother must be as well, knowing Wendy wouldn't jest in such a poor situation. Acnologia wouldn't dare harm Igneel, not when everyone in town knows of their hatred for each other. The clan won't stand for murder.

"What did he do?" Natsu snaps. His nails dig into his palms hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn't feel it beneath the swirl of anger in his chest. The smallest flicker of flames lick at his knuckles, the fire harnessed within his bones spilling through the cracks in his calm façade. It tingles against his skin, warm, but not overwhelmingly so.

Wendy takes a step away from him, eyeing the flames warily, and he winces, trying futilely to calm himself, his blood boiling as white hot rage curls through him. Natsu takes a breath to calm himself, not wanting to scare her, but he can't stop his hands from trembling.

A floorboard to his right creaks, the only warning he gets before another presence enters the room, a willowy figure towering over him. "What he always does," a familiar voice tells him. Natsu glances up in time to see his mother sigh, her expression weary and her face more gaunt than usual, eyes hollow when she looks at him.

"Mom," he whispers, rising from his crouch and turning away from Wendy, who glances between them slowly, lip caught between her teeth. Natsu looks down at his mother, Grandine a head shorter than him, her pale, wispy white hair piled atop her head in a messy bun. She tilts her chin to look at him, managing a smile for only a moment before it disappears as quickly as it came.

She reaches out to him, hands so pale he can see the blue spider-veins tracing across the backs of her hands and along her wrists. She cups his face with gentle hands, thumbs brushing along his cheeks lovingly. Her fingers tremble so fragile, but he's seen those same hands shatter glass and snap bones.

Grandine pulls him down so that his forehead is pressed to hers, a familiar greeting between the Dragonborne, and Natsu sighs as she strokes his cheeks. "I'm glad you're home," she whispers, so soft he almost doesn't hear her, her words a caress.

He nods, throat closing as she releases him, dropping back to her heels to send him a tired smile. "I never meant to stay away," he chokes out, guilt eating away at his insides when he sees the fear reflected in her gaze.

Acnologia came looking for them again, he can tell by the look in her eyes. And when he didn't come home it must have terrified them. He winces, shame eating at him, but he shoves it back down, knowing it does them little good. Natsu should have come home earlier. Even if they knew where to find him, he still should have come back.

Grandine smiles then, hands slipping from his face. Natsu ducks his head, unable to meet her eyes, but she only grasps his hands in hers, squeezing him tightly. "I know," she tells him, releasing one of his hands to pat him on the cheek.

"Where's Dad?" Natsu asks her, glancing over Grandine's shoulder to peer into the rest of the house, searching for his father's tall frame. Igneel isn't there, the house too quiet because of it, and Natsu knows before his mother responds that the man is still in town, perhaps at another one of Acnologia's war councils, helping plot ways to drive away the Spiritwalkers.

For a moment his thoughts drift to Lucy, the way she helped him, saved him, and how her people are only trying to survive, running away from their monsters. A sick feeling curls in his gut as he imagines what Acnologia might do to her. Lucy is an influential figure in her clan, next in line after her aunt, if he remembers correctly, and Acnologia does wicked things to those who challenge his power.

Acnologia would kill her, or perhaps worse, and it leaves a filthy taste in his mouth. He hardly knows Lucy, but he would never enjoy seeing her hurt in such vile ways. Acnologia is renowned for his cruelty, a vicious leader that seems more animal than man.

It makes him sick to think about.

"He should be home soon," she tells him, smiling slightly. Wendy takes a step forward, and Grandine smiles down at her, reaching out to stroke her hair. "The was a meeting earlier," Grandine says lowly, the underlying meaning not lost to any of them. A war council.

Igneel always comes home furious after they're done, disgusted by Acnologia and his ways. Natsu rarely goes to the meetings, not wanting to hear such disgusting things coming from his clansmen: murdering children in their beds and burning people alive. He'll never understand how people can be so cruel.

Grandine takes a step back from him, eyeing him critically suddenly and places her hands on her hips, expression stern as she looks up at him. "You're filthy," she chides suddenly, squinting at him and wrinkling her nose. "Did you leave the forge at all in the last week?" It sounds less like a question and more like an accusation, Grandine clucking her tongue at him as observes his tired eyes and the layers of sweat clinging to him.

Her gaze makes him itch, Natsu shifting like a scolded child. She's always been able to do this to him, adult or not, he'll always feel a burn of shame when she observes him like this, picking him apart in the way only family can.

His silence must be answer enough, because she sighs, shaking her head. Wendy giggles beside her, expression impish as she looks up at Natsu, barely hiding her grin behind her hand. "Go wash up," Grandine orders, smile fond as she shakes her head in his direction. "Lunch should be ready soon."

Natsu grins and leans down to press a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek.

It's later, when Natsu is lying in his bed and rolling Lucy's bone pendant between his fingers that he allows his thoughts to drift back to the Spiritwalker and their curious meeting. It was unlike anything he would have expected, which says little. She's the last person he would have expected to find in the woods, their brief history enough to sour any previous thoughts he had of her.

Slowly, he glances around the room, gaze dragging along the walls and the animal skins tossed across his bed. A jar of dragon teeth sit on his desk, metal chains littering the space, necklaces waiting to be made. While he spends much of his time in the forges, jewelry making has always been a hobby of his. There's something cathartic about stringing the teeth together to create something special.

Teeth are what he mainly uses, though Natsu has takes stones from the quarry in the past, fighting through the sand vipers and their venom to find precious gems to carve. Typically, it's only those searching for betrothal stones that brave the quarry, no one else willing to risk such a task, but Natsu has ventured down the cliffs several times.

He enjoys carving stone, liking the feel of it beneath his hands, It's harder to carve than bone or tooth, but the challenge makes it more fun in his eyes. It seems to matter more, when the gem is harder to cut.

He's given them as gifts before, mostly to his family. Carved stones aren't meant for just anyone, only those most precious.

Natsu lazily drags a finger down the tuft of bluish-gray fur nestled against his chest, Happy curled tight against him. The little cat purrs in response to his touch, and Natsu grins despite himself, still playing with the bone between his fingers, observing it with a keen gaze.

For a moment, he wonders where Lucy found it, or if perhaps she carved it herself. He wouldn't doubt her skill, knowing better than to underestimate her. Perhaps it was passed down in her family, the bone seeming very old, though still strong. Natsu entertains the idea of asking her, but knows it's unlikely they'll ever meet again under friendly terms.

Natsu would never say he knows Lucy well, having only met her a few times in passing, during meetings between their people, back before Acnologia began rallying for war. The Spiritwalkers came to the Summerlands only five years ago, though there clans have a very long, very complicated history together. It was the Dragonborne that originally drove them to the north near twenty years ago, if the stories are correct. The returned half a decade ago, and the first real fights between their clans came soon after, mostly border skirmishes. Makarov and the Spiritwalker leader, Anna, came to an agreement that took three days and two nights to settle.

That was the first time he ever saw Lucy. She was younger than him, though not by much, and smiled when she saw him. There was a fox near her feet, but he didn't realize until later that she was a Bone Witch, the spirit a familiar to her, padding after her like a shadow.

She fascinated him, her and her summon, and at first Natsu wasn't sure what else to think. She didn't seem dangerous or violent or any of the other stories he'd heard in the past, and when she smiled at him he couldn't help but smile back.

The first true fight between their clans occurred only three years ago, during the turbulent period when Acnologia took control. The first thing he did was declare war on the Spiritwalkers, calling them vile things and warning them that if they didn't strike first, the witches would. Natsu was younger then, eighteen and so ready to fight, and he didn't think twice about starting a war. He would do anything to protect his people, even if some of the things Acnologia has done leaves a sick feeling curling through his stomach.

Back then, Natsu never had much interest in speaking with Lucy. Not at first, when all he knew was she summoned spirits through bones, a witch. As a child he'd been told stories of her kind, of the twisted things they could do to a person through their bones, using them like puppets, how they could raise the dead and force families to fight their loved ones. An unholy power, that's what Acnologia called it. He said if they didn't push back the witches, they would kill ever Dragonborne in the Summerlands. And they all believed him. And he certainly wanted nothing to do with her after she bested him in their fight, in part because of a wounded pride. He learned her name and that she walked with spirits and there was nothing else that mattered.

No, they never talked much besides clipped conversations and biting words from him, but he watched her.

There was always something fascinating about the way she moved, so light on her feet, expression always twisted into something like vague amusement despite the weariness in her gaze, exhaustion seeming to blanket her. Her smile was so bright that it always gained his attention, beckoning him closer. The first time she saw him after they fought, Natsu could swear he saw an apology in her gaze, some kind of shame when she looked at the scar on his throat, but it was gone before he could be sure.

He would never admit aloud the shame he feels deep in his chest whenever he sees the matching scar on her throat, smaller, thinner, but still marring her skin. He could have killed her that day, just as easily as she could have killed him, and that leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

War is war, but it doesn't excuse the things they've done in the name of it. He's always enjoyed a good fight, the thrill of battle, but he wouldn't relish in Lucy's death in the way others would.

As a child he was told stories of her people, of the wonders they could do. Makarov always respected them, speaking to the town children of their magic, it was only after Acnologia took control that the legends were warped into something more vile. He's only begun thinking about it recently, how much the stories have changed. It doesn't make him trust the Bone Witches anymore than he does now. He's seen them fight, how powerful and dangerous they are with their monsters that can't be killed, their spirits near unbeatable so long as their master still breathes.

They aren't innocent in this war. They've done terrible things: burning down homes on the edge of Dragonborne territory to make room for themselves, sending their beasts after hunters and leaving men ripped to pieces in the woods. And they brought monsters with them, lead them from the north to the Summerlands where they can feast and slaughter.

The Bone Witches may have started as refugees from the north, terrified and weakened from fighting the Skinwalkers, but their warriors are just as brutal as Natsu's.

He respects Lucy more than most, but as much as she fascinates him, he doesn't trust her. She may have saved his life in the forest, but only after threatening it.

Natsu rolls the carved pendant between his fingers again, lifting it into the light so he can see it clearly. He never took the time to study it, the bone feeling alive against his skin in a way that unnerved him. He never showed it to anyone, though the Dragonborne take spoils of war more often than not. If he showed it to anyone, Acnologia would take it, and the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

It's small against his palm, thin and curved, circular. The pendant is stark white and plain, save for a hint of faded blue paint, shaped into three tiny, curled waves carved into the bone. A symbol for the ocean. It's delicate, fragile enough to snap if he squeezed too tightly, but there's a power inside it. It thrums beneath his touch, something clawing to get out. He drags a finger across the smooth surface, wondering what sort of spirit remains locked inside.

A terribly powerful one, he would guess. He knows little on the Bone Witches customs, but he's learned that the more powerful the bones, the closer they're kept, made into jewelry or something innocuous, hidden in plain sight. Necklaces, bracelets, bone weaved into the fabric of their clothes, all easy to miss at first glance. It's why they were losing fights with the witches at first. They couldn't figure out how they were summoning their spirits, which couldn't be killed by their weapons.

The spirits can only be defeated when their masters are slaughtered or their bones ground into dust.

He's seen countless Spiritwalkers slain, their throats cut and their bodies burned until all that's left is their bones. Natsu isn't sure what becomes of their bones. He's never stayed to watch. Acnologia does something with them, buries them or grinds them up, he would guess.

Natsu's fingers curl around the bone necklace in his hand, tracing the wave pattern carved into the top and twirling the silver chain around his hand, the metal biting at his skin. The original yarn was severed and mangled years ago, and Natsu threw it out when the fibers kept snapping, afraid he might lose the pendant if he wasn't careful.

Not for the first time, he considers giving it back to her, but Natsu brushes the thought aside quickly. There's no sense in giving an enemy a powerful spirit to fight with, even if it does belong to her. She may have killed members of his clan with the demon inside this bone, perhaps friends of his, and she would simply do it again if he gave it back. While he doubts she would attack him outright, recalling what she said to him when they last met, but meeting in battle is another thing entirely.

He wouldn't dare put others at risk for a girl he barely knows or cares for.

Shaking himself, Natsu shoves the pendant into his pocket, holding the carved bone for a moment too long before releasing it entirely, the silver chain slipping from his fingers slowly. He doesn't tie it back to his knife, afraid of his fingers wandering back to it once again.

[preservationandruin]

Oathbringer Liveblog, Part One: Chapters 29-32

Alrighty! This is gonna be the last one for tonight because I have a class at 8:30 tomorrow morning and need to be coherent enough to analyse poetry. 

I realize how much I need a Bridge Four Ghost Hunters Mini-Series (guys it would be SO GOOD), The Gang Meets A Mother Of Sorts and find a treasure, and we see an old friend. 

Veil is in the market, searching. Nobody else seems to be able to hear whatever is in Urithiru like she can; it’s also, probably, a Radiant thing. She hears it as “the sound of a tunnel extending into the darkness. The feel of breath on the back of your neck in a dark room.” So that’s wonderful. 

There’s been a murder; it’s been three days. Apparently, Gaz and company think that Veil is just another of Shallan’s employees. Also, one of the men--Red, it’s one of their names, not Shallan’s, I fucked up last time--tries flirting with her and manages a half-decent line. She disguises how Shallan actually picked her up--which she didn’t, she’s just a persona,  but Veil is pretty much her own character. She’s referred to as Veil and not Shallan in narration. 

And as Shallan is thinking of the differences between Veil and Shallan, and Veil and Radiant, she hears screams in the marketplace. This time, the murder wasn’t imitating the first killing, a bottle to the head--it was the second, a hanging of the murderer. Perhaps...perhaps it only mimics deliberate violence? She charges after the thing into the tunnels, outpacing her guards, and Pattern notices shadows that are falling wrong--and as it runs again, she chases it. 

Shallan flips to Radiant to use Pattern and cut through the wall to chase it. She finds a hole--one that resembles her drawing of darkness. She tells Pattern to go get Adolin and soldiers. She thinks quickly and takes off Veil’s clothes, goes back to the Shallan persona--and is fairly alarmed that “Shallan” is a persona, not her. That’s...a problem to deal with later. 

ADOLIN BROUGHT ALL OF BRIDGE FOUR WITH HIM. Apparently, Pattern told Adolin that if he didn’t come soon Shallan would do something stupid. He knows her too well. Anyway, Renarin’s there--so that’s good, they have two Radiants. Anyway, as always, Bridge Four brings levity to any scene: 

“[the spren]’s able to imitate a person for a time--but it eventually becomes something else. A broken face, a twisted shape...”  “Sounds like that girl you’ve been seeing, Skar,” one of the bridgemen noted. “Ha ha,” Skar said dryly. “How about we toss you in that pit, Eth, and see how far down the thing goes?” 

Every time is a good time for Bridge Four Banter. Also, Shallan realizes that this think didn’t kill Sadeas--it just mimicked the murder. Also, Lyn--the scout--is chilling with Bridge Four. Hell yes. 

Also, Bridge Four has assimilated Renarin into their weird family. It’s very heartwarming. Slapping him on the back, commenting on who in Bridge Four is the weirdest. 

“So,” one of the men said, a handsome, muscled fellow with arms that seemed too long for his body, “I assume we’re heading down into this awful crypt of terror?” 

I just realized how much I would pay for a Bridge Four (plus Shallan and Adolin) Ghost Hunters series. I would pay so much for that. Also, Shallan’s had to illusion on her dress over Veil’s clothes. This area isn’t made of uncut, undamaged stone like the rest of Urithiru is; it’s got separate stones. 

I don’t like this place. Something very old and very dark is here. There are old portraits of the heralds, but enigmatic paintings on the walls that SEEM to be the shards: 

A solitary figure hovering above the ground before a large blue disc, arms stretched to the side as if to embrace it. Depictions of the Almighty in his traditional form as a could bursting with energy and light. A woman in the shape of a tree, hands spreading toward the sky and becoming branches. Who would have thought to find Pagan symbols in the home of the Knights Radiant? 

The woman sounds undoubtedly like Cultivation. Also I’m happy that my headcanon of her as plant-and-person-like is reflected here, although I pictured something less artistic and more bizarre. Well, this is art. Now, the question is: are both of the other ones mentioned Honor? Or is that figure Odium? 

Hard to tell. 

Shallan and Renarin are both pulled in the same direction--they sense whatever is there as not evil but wrong, “like the sight of a wrist hanging from an arm after the bone is broken.” Yikes. Glys is apparently frightened of it and won’t speak. Also, they note that Dalinar doesn’t seem to feel it. But Renarin and Shallan do--the two with the surge of Illumination. 

Light and Darkness. Is there a counter-creature to every surge? Is this the opposite of illumination, not creating anything new but copying the old incessantly? They find an old, destroyed library. The books of Urithiru--gone. Renarin and Lyn have walked forward and found something--something Bad. 

A large mass that reflected the light, like gleaming tar.  “We shouldn’t have come here,” Renarin said. “We can’t fight this. Stormfather.” He stumbled backward. “Stormfather...” [...] “She’s here,” Renarin whispered. “One of the Unmade. Re-Shephir...the Midnight Mother.” 

And of course in true D&D style, Adolin charges it. Also I hope none of my players read this, because it just gave me the best idea. But hooo boy, that’s one of the Unmade. The Midnight Mother. 

I was suspecting it was an Unmade. Renarin is nearly transfixed by it, but Teft’s commands--his sergeant--snap him back into his right mind. 

Shallan watched all this, feeling a numbing trance settle over her. “I...know you,” she whispered to the blackness, realizing it was true. “I know what you’re doing. [...] You try to imitate us,” Shallan said. “But you fail. You’re a spren. You don’t quite understand. [...] Your imitation is pathetic. Here. Let me show you how it’s done.” 

THAT’S WHY IT CAME TO WATCH THE PLAY. SHALLAN’S PERFECT IMITATIONS. Shallan brings them forth again, her collection--Palona, soldiers, the everyday people of Urithiru. They hold the darkness back. Shallan compares it to someone who doesn’t know who Adolin is trying to threaten him with a knife and getting met with a Shardblade. 

Threatening Shallan with imitations was never going to be a winning battle, because she’s the human embodiment of “good luck I’m behind 7 proxies.” Her personality is mostly an imitation. Actually, all three of her personalities are. 

On the other hand, Shallan is alarmed by the kinship she feels with the Midnight Mother. And Shallan sees that there are important carvings and murals in this place the Mother has claimed. 

She summons Pattern. She’s not Radiant, but she summons Pattern. 

Holding it immediately brought pain. Not the screaming of a dead spren. Pain inside. The pain of an Ideal sworn, but not yet overcome.  “Bridgemen,” Adolin called. “You willing to give it another go?”  “We’ll last longer than you will, gancho! Even with your fancy armor.”  Adolin grinned and slammed his faceplate down. “At your word, Radiant.” 

I. LOVE. THIS. 

Renarin is guarding Adolin’s back! They’re fighting together like brothers! And we note that they know how to fight men in Shardplate, but still fear Shallan. She creates an army of herself--young, old, all the Shallans. Some of them were ones that she’d lost with her collection. She even let Veil appear for a moment, and she realizes she’s every one of them and also none of them at the same time. She slams her safehand right into the pulsing mass of tar that is the Midnight Mother, and there’s some freudian work that could be done there, but fortunately Freud is a discredited hack. 

Next chapter: Mother of Lies. Shallan and this thing are open to each other. Re-Shephir (which sounds hilariously like “reshaper” which is kind of what it’s doing?) is drawn to pain and suffering--that’s why it replicates the murders, I assume. 

It tries to bond with Shallan instead of Pattern. That’s very, very bad. I don’t know what bonding an Unmade would do, but it can’t be anything good. Pattern and Shallan just cling to each other. Shallan just has one picture--her and Pattern clinging to each other, Pattern in his human form. I need to draw that. 

Again, the question: why does she fear Shallan and Pattern? 

This thing was ancient. Created long ago as a splinter of the soul of something even more terrible, Re-Shephir had been ordered to sow chaos, spawning horrors to confuse and destroy men. Over time, slowly, she’d become increasingly intrigued by the things she murdered. Her creations had come to imitate what she saw in the world, but lacking love or affection. Like stones come alive, content to be killed or to kill with no attachment or enjoyment. No emotions beyond an overpowering curiosity, and that ephemeral attraction to violence. Almighty above...it’s like a creationspren. Only so, so wrong. 

And Shallan draws on that part of her--the stone-cold killer, the Shallan that comes out when the chips are down, who killed her mother, who killed Tyn, who hates being diverting or clever or nice or sweet. And Shallan understands--a Lightweaver had trapped Re-Shephir before. And Shallan also realizes--Re-Shephir is going to understand her completely and know all of her secrets. 

Power can be an illusion of perception. Shallan tells herself she wasn’t afraid. She tells herself she is committed, and that is true. 

And Re-Shephir breaks and runs. 

And the thing that Re-Shephir had been coiled around? A pillar made of THOUSANDS OF CUT GEMSTONES. 

Well, that all certainly just happened. 

Over to Kaladin. He’s near Revolar, a city near Hearthstone, where the Parshmen have surrounded. His group of Parshmen--and he thinks of them as his--are carrying spears, have belts and hatchets and tinder. He’s proud of them, even though he knows he probably shouldn’t be. 

I mean, he’s Kaladin. You can’t give him a group of hopeless people and expect him not to forge something out of them. What would happen if parshmen became his squires? That’s not going to happen, probably, but it would be interesting. 

Parshmen have moved into Revolar. They have their own city, now. But there are no humans, which is worrying Kaladin. There are signs of a fight. But Sah and his daugher are awestruck. Their own city. 

Sah’s daugher is named Vai. I love them. There are lots of the yellow-white spren around, according to Syl; and humans are crammed--of course--into the old parshmen quarters and slave pens. And there’s another highstorm coming today, that nobody is expecting. Except Kaladin, because Syl can sense them. 

Kal’s going to have to make a choice. Stay with the Parshmen? Use the storm to leave? Help the humans? Will he find a way to make another option? And Yixli--the yellow-white spren of their group, apparently--spoke for Kaladin, and seemed impressed by him. 

Apparently, a human fighting alongside the parshmen isn’t unheard of. The listeners call the full Voidbringers--the red-glowing Stormform--as the Fused. 

Kaladin sees this and is just like nope I’m out, the storm is coming. She looked directly at Kaladin--she might have noticed he was a radiant. He’s not waiting around. He grabs the gemstones, tells them to get to shelter, thanks them for their kindness, and tells them he doesn’t want to be their enemy. He has the time to see Sah’s betrayed face as he launches himself into the air. 

Syl gets territorial and bats gloryspren away from Kaladin, which is hilarious. He also notes that his reaction to Parshmen in large groups is still unease, and is irritated at himself for that. He’s learning. 

Anyway, Kal and Syl realize they have no idea how to get to Urithiru, so time to hightail it back to the Shattered Plains. But he takes moments out of his time to warn the Parshmen and humans that the highstorm is coming. And he flat-up tells the Parshmen to do better: 

“Do better,” he said to her. “These people are your charge, now. You’ve seized the city, taken what you want. If you wish to claim any kind of moral superiority, treat your captives better than they did you.” 

And then he gets tackled by the Voidbringer. They’re giving off dark stormlight--like the darklit spheres. And these--they can fly. 

That’s not great. 

Fortunately, they’re not very skilled, and Kal just throws himself directly into the storm, figuring that it had worked against Szeth. And he starts yelling at the Stormfather to turn the storm away, because there are people down there. Kaladin Stormblessed, literally trying to yell a hurricane into moving because it will hurt people. Stormfather asks if he should have mercy for every single person who died in the winds, and Kal says yes. 

But the Stormfather says it’s something he can’t do. Kal doesn’t leave--he stays to try to help people through the storm. Syl reminds him that he can’t save everyone. Kaladin is damn well going to try. 

And he literally, with the help of a bunch of windspren, deflects the highstorm, opening a pocket of calm. Holy shit.

Everyone gets to safety before the Voidbringers--the Fused--return. Even Syl is surprised by what he managed. And Syl starts getting nudges to go in a certain direction, which she thinks is the Stormfather’s way of apologizing. 

And he flies in front of the storm to Urithiru. 

Back to Shallan. She suspects Sebarial does things just to irritate Dalinar because they seem extravagant. Sebarial is the best troll and I love him. Shallan doesn’t want to be alone--understandably. She was just attacked by nightmares.

Shallan also muses that something about Re-Shephir seems like she was trying to search for something she herself had lost, and wonders if Re-Shephir had once been human. Well...they’re called the Unmade. If something has been unmade, it has to have been made first. Shallan also notes that Re-Shephir may have been the only one that was captured--by a Lightweaver like Shallan. She notes that the spren like Re-Shephir won’t be strange to people, because they’ve been with them always. It will just be the way things have always been. 

And Shallan thinks, for once, she might actually deserve the praise she’s getting. She feels, a little bit, like she’s an adult. She also is trying to forget that basically all of bridge four saw her safehand, but listen. Sometimes you do embarrassing things in battle, like the cultural equivalent of flashing a troop. 

And Adolin says that someone just arrived at the tower,  and Shallan assumes it’s Kaladin, just like the reader does. 

And then Jasnah Kholin walks into the room. 

And part one ends!

[the-jade-goblin]

Butterfly Effect - chapter 1

It wasn’t often Shaye found herself in danger. Not any serious danger anyhow.

There was always a chance a spy could go awry, or she could wander down the wrong street and get lost, but the consequences of that were seldom dire.

This time wasn’t like that.

Oh she didn’t go looking for trouble, it had been a stroke of bad luck. Although she seemed to have a lot of bad luck these days.

Asra had always been worried about losing her in crowds, but without him around she could wander as she liked, and the sudden freedom invigorated her as much as it worried her. Maybe Asra kept her close for a reason.

The Countess had no need of her that day, and having retired from a sudden bout of headaches she had given Shaye the liberty to check on the shop.

As much as Shaye liked the palace, she did miss the familiar feeling of home, and was excited to go back for a little bit.

Of course nothing could be as simple as that. That would be too easy, and fate couldn’t have that, it might get bored.

Her old clothes had been forever stained by that courtier, so again Shaye was clad in rich fabric she would never dream of wearing under normal circumstances.

This time it was a sapphire blue outfit that the Countess insisted brought out her eyes. Well, the one blue eye she had anyway, the violet one complimented it she had said.

It must so difficult for the Countess to find colours to compliment Shaye’s mismatched eyes, but she managed to do it quite well, not that Shaye had any particular opinions on her appearance either way.

The silk of her outfit was light and airy and nothing like anything she owned.

She had her emerald necklace hidden securely beneath her blouse, and Asra’s card deck packed into her satchel.

The only thing she wore that wasn’t borrowed or given were her anklets and bangles.

She had acquired many over the years, some with different gemstones encrusted in them, some plain gold, and some with tiny little bells that tinkled while she walked.

She was quite proud of her collection, and Asra said it made her look quite the perfect fortune-teller.

However, her jewelry, coupled with her brilliant clothes, drew much unwanted attention.

No one usually bothered Shaye when she wore her plain, cheap clothing, but of course she had to be wearing the expensive stuff while she unescorted and only half paying attention to her surroundings.

Shaye took a shortcut from the markets to her shop, down a secluded alley. Not the wisest choice in hindsight.

A sudden bolting cat startled her, streaking through her steps like a whirl of black ink, and causing her to trip and drop her bag.

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Shaye got to her knees, brushing off her scraped palms onto her skirts.

She sighed, and reach for her bag, when a foot stepped in between them. She paused.

“Well, what’s a lovely lady like you doing down there?”

Shaye glanced up to see an unfamiliar face. A bald man, with a grizzle beard towered over her.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned her head back, to see another man with wild blond hair stepping out from the gloom.

Shaye reached for her bag again, but the bald bad grasped her wrist, and dragged her to her feet.

“Those clothes looking mighty expensive, you wouldn’t want to soil them in the dirt would you?” he said. “I should carry you instead, keep your feet out of the muck.”

“I am fine thank you.” Shaye said stiffly. “I just need t oget home.”

“Home? Where’s home then? The upper district?” the blond man squeaked. “You got someone waiting for you? Someone who might pay a hefty price to get you back?”

“No!” Shaye cried. “No, I don’t have anyone waiting for me. Let go of me!”

She pulled against the bald man, but he just shook his head and tutted in disapointement.

“Now little miss don’t be so rude, we’ve only just met.”

Shaye glared up at him, and summoned heat to her skin, burning the hand that gripped her arm. The bald man leapt back with a pained cry as Shaye dived for her bag.

“What’s that, magic? You’re a witch!” the man snatched Shaye’s bag out of her hands, and she whirled around to take it back.

“Give me that!” she demanded.

“Oh I don’t think so. A pretty little witch will fetch a fine price in Prakar,”

“I’d wager.” The blond man grinned. “But surely we can have a little fun with the witch first?”

“I don’t see why not? Here miss, your bag.”

When Shaye grabbed the bag back off the man, he pushed his body closer and closer until she was backed up against the wall.

She held her bag tightly to her as if to shield herself from him, staring up at him in a sudden panic.

The bald man groped the exposed skin of her belly, his other hand digging into her hip painfully.

Panicked, Shaye brought her knee up sharply, connecting to the man’s delicate parts. He went down with a groan, and Shaye took the opportunity to run.

It wasn’t long before she heard the two men in hot pursuit. Shaye ran as fast as she could, her breathes coming in short pants and her body heaving with strain.

Looking back to see how far her pursuers were behind her, she made a series of quick turns and twists, before realizing she had run into a part of town she wasn’t familiar with.

She continued to run, the men close behind her, even as she ducked and weaved into and through an all-manner of different streets and alleyways, until she was so hopelessly lost and so frightfully tired she couldn’t do it anymore.

But she kept going, trying to ignore the straining of her limbs as she ran.

The chase couldn’t have lasted forever though. Eventually, she hit a dead-end.

Oh no, oh dammit no! Think fast, quick Shaye think of something! What would Asra do? What would Asra do…

She turned as she heard footsteps catching up to her. The bald man chuckled darkly.

“Looks like it’s the end of the line witch.”

“Aw, she looks all tuckered out. Why don’t you take the load off your feet sweetheart and lie down for a while?” the blond man smirked.

Shaye backed up against the wall, still trying to think of a way to escape.

“I have spells that can freeze your face off, don’t come any closer.” She threatened.

She was bluffing, and the men knew it too.

“You would have already done it by now if you did. Now just be a good little witch and hold still, it’ll be over soon.”

She gasped as he grabbed her, pulling her away from the wall, the blond man ripping her bag away from her and roughly removing the shawl from around her hair, making it tumble out over her shoulders.

“Help!” Shaye shrieked. “Someone help!”

“No one can hear you little witch,” the blond man said producing a carving knife and working his way at the buttons of her blouse.

With her struggling the knife cut through her blouse easily, and nicked her skin quite a few times too. The pain and the fear only made her struggle harder.

“Get off me! Let me go let go!” she hollered.

The bald man snickered. “Or what?”

“I do believe the lady told you to let her go.”

And then Shaye felt for sure she was dreaming, that voice sounded so familiar. She was dropped to the ground, and there she stayed.

Everything was a blur after that, a whirl of black leather and the sounds of fighting.

“That’ll teach you to prey on innocent women! Now then – Shaye? Oh my – Shaye is that you?”

She felt, rather than saw, her savior fall to his knees beside her fallen form.

But she paralyzed with shock on the cold cobblestones, and clumsily reached up to her tattered blouse to cover herself before looking up.

“Julian…”

His worried face came into her view, though her vision was blurred by unshed tears. His hands hovered, itching to touch, to comfort, but unsure if he should touch her in this state.

He seemed to decide checking her for injuries the priority, and reach forward to examine her.

“Are you hurt? Are you alright?” he asked feverently, looking up from his inspection when Shaye didn’t answer him. “Shaye?”

Shaye didn’t speak, nor did she shy away from his inspecting. This behavior was most unlike her, and it unnerved Julian.

“Shaye. My dear, please speak to me. I need to know if you’re alright.” His voice was pressing, but gentle, most likely practiced through his bedside manner when dealing with patients.

She swallowed thickly, before turned her frozen eyes towards him.

“I’m…not hurt.” She rasped.

Julian let out a sigh. “Well that is a relief. Can you stand Shaye? Can you get up?”

Shaye got to wobbly feet with Julian’s help, but shivered violently and fell forward slightly, Julian catching her in his arms.

Shaye desperately sought the warmth of his embrace, the steady arms locked around her to calm her down. She needed to feel safe.

“Woah, hey now it’s okay.” Julian held her tightly in his arms as Shaye buried herself closer to him, his hands gently stroking her hair and back. “You’re okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Shaye let out a small whimper, shivering uncontrollably.

“Shaye? Shaye sweetheart you’re scaring me. Are you okay? What can I do? Tell me what you need.”

His concern touched her, and it brought a hesitant smile to her lips. She shook her head against his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m okay I’m just…a bit shaken.”

“Understandably.” Julian sighed, running a hand through her hair soothingly. “Come with me, I’ll take you home and you can get cleaned up. You’ll feel much better trust me.”

Shaye let out a shaky ‘okay’ and pulled away from Julian. Julian looked down to see blood and cursed.

“You told me you were fine Shaye, this is not fine,” he scolded as he came to inspect her wounds.

“Julian please I’m fine really they’re just little – ”

“No Shaye, you are not fine, do not call this fine.” Julian’s voice was hard and almost cold, taking Shaye aback.

“You’re bleeding and in shock because of the vermin that dared to lay a hand on you. If I wasn’t so worried about you I would have gone after them and made sure they were sent to an early grave.”

The rage in his eye frightened Shaye, even as his hands were ever so gentle in their mending of the cuts along her abdomen.

“Julian you’re no murderer,” Shaye murmured.

“It’s not murder. It’s pest control.” Julian hissed. “I will remember their faces, and if I see them again they’ll get what’s coming to them for daring to hurt you. That’s a promise.”

“Julian…”

Julian finally sighed, and pulled away from Shaye, blood seeping from fresh wounds that mirrored hers. She watched her cuts disappear, and Julian’s grow. It wouldn’t last, but it never made it any easier to watch him put himself in pain.

Shaye pressed a hand to his chest. “I wish you didn’t have to do that just to help me.”

Julian covered her hand with his and looked into her eyes with a fiery look. “I would do so again in a heartbeat my dear Shaye.”

Shaye felt her face flush at the declaration. Julian released her hand, and removed his coat before handing to her.

She murmured a thankyou before covering herself with the coat, and following close behind Julian as he silently lead her out of the alley.

She gripped his arm to keep herself steady and calm.

Shaye suddenly felt very tired, and her feet were dragging as she walked, which didn’t go unnoticed by Julian, who stopped walking, making her look up quizzically.

“May I?” he asked. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentlemen if I made you walk on such shaky legs.”

“O-Oh. I – I um…sure?” Shaye flushed beet red as Julian scooped her up in his arms, and carried her out into the street.

Her eyelids drooped as she made herself comfortable in Julian’s arms. It slightly concerned her how quickly she’d become accustomed to the feeling of being in Julian’s embraced.

If she was more awake, she’d probably make a joke about it, but she was far too weary for that.

She nestled herself against his chest and closed her eyes, her fists tight on the cloak that covered her. It wasn’t long before she was unconscious.

[zippdementia]

Part 28 Alignment May Vary: The Rocks Speak

Welcome to post 28 of our long running adventure! We started back on the Moonsea coast with three prison ship survivors who washed up into adventure. Since then, there have been many twists and turns and only one of the original party is still alive, Karina the Tiefling Spy. Her path has taken her with two others towards the legendary Tomb of Haggemoth, where she hopes to find riches and (more importantly) answers to questions that have plagued her since she was betrayed in the war. Meanwhile, her companions have their own quests: Tyrion the Halfling Bard needs to record a tale to impress his college directors and secure his place in the famed halls of song, and Abenthy seeks the ultimate justice in the name of his father, a Fallen Angel. This post marks the beginning of the last dungeon of the campaign and will walk with the players through each room, detailing what they discover and what adjustments I have made to the dungeon. I hope players of D&D find it entertaining and dungeon masters find it helpful in running their own dungeons!

Haggemoth is a conversion from 3.5 and I’ve talked about some of my methods for conversions to 5th edition in the past. Monster conversion, in particular, is more of an art than a science, with the end goal not being perfection so much as it is to capture the correct feel for a scene or battle. One hard and fast rule to keep in mind, though, is the rule of DC. You can pretty nicely get an appropriate DC from 3.5 to 5 by taking the original DC, subtracting ten, cutting the number in half (rounded up) and then adding ten. For example, if the DC for avoiding a trap from 3.5 is Dex Save DC 19, then the conversion is

19 - 10 = 9

9/2 = 4.5 (round up to 5)

5 + 10 = 15

New Dex Save DC = 15

I use this method for every DC conversion so I want to throw it out there immediately so that it is assumed throughout the remainder of the adventure.

Anyway, the bridge across the chasm is destroyed, Tyrion is unconscious, and Karina and Abenthy are badly hurt from their battles with the Bugbears. Verrick is gone, the three soldiers are dispirited, and everyone is hungry. After eating and then collapsing, exhausted, into a long rest, the party awakens the next morning to find themselves staring at a massive door in the cliff face:

Built into the side of the mountain is an immense portico that features a pair of gigantic stone doors, each one twenty feet high and ten feet across. There is a single massive, steel-reinforced stone bar across the door, but a great deal of stone and wood debris has been piled up against the door as well.

It doesn’t take long to clear the debris, I assume this was placed there by the designer in case the players try to run past the Bugbears without stealth or fighting them: then the Bugbears can charge them, or lob arrows at them from across the bridge while the players try to clear the debris. A nasty end for anyone who thought to rush past the fight!

As it is, the players clear the door and enter the first hall. It is moldly inside, and damp and cold, with a smell like age and decay. Every so often earth tremors rock the place and bits of rock and dust fall from the ceiling:

Beyond the main doors is a large vestibule with a vaulted ceiling. The walls look like they once bore runic carvings, but these have all been defaced. Plants from the hillside have infiltrated the tomb here, and bits of root and moss hang from cracks everywhere. This chamber is filled with refuse of all kinds: plant matter, the carcasses of small animals and insects, and the desiccated corpses of several species of humanoid. As light spills into the chamber, the floor comes alive with movement.

Attacking the players are some giant centipedes. This is the first adjustment I have to make. Insect creatures are treated very differently in fifth edition than they were in third. In third, poison was a really big deal, a threat to even high level parties. It’s still not great in Fifth edition, but saving throws are all around easier and because fifth edition has done away with the touch attack (which ignores armor) creatures like this have a much harder time landing hits. So even though I can (and do) describe gross bugs falling over Karinna from the ceiling, I can’t really simulate them being “on her” as I could in Pathfinder, and as the module intends.

I compensate by bringing back touch AC for this fight, letting the centipedes crawl inside armor and up leather jerkins to get their attacks. It’s not a perfect solution, but it keeps the proper difficulty for the fight, letting the centipedes land some hits while still bring pretty tame. In the future, I’ll probably take insect fights and use swarm statistics for them, as this seems to be the way that Fifth Edition “buffs” its insects at higher levels. That said, the only rule I miss from Pathfinder is the touch AC—it just makes so much sense in certain circumstances and creates a nice difficulty balance for parties that have a mixture of speedy rogues and tankish paladins. I don’t think it necessarily needs to come back as a hard rule applied to every combat, but it would be cool to see some monsters in future DnD 5 supplements gain abilities which ignore armor and rely on pure dodging by targeting AC + Dex directly.

Mine! Mine! Mine!

Tomb of Haggemoth is my favorite kind of dungeon, in that nearly every room in it (and most of the monsters) has a reason to be there. I love dungeons that are more natural settings, rather than just endless turns and twists of caverns. My earliest experiences with Dungeons and Dragons was when my father bought Undermountain for me when I was four. I didn’t play the game, but I read through each description of every room. They were like short stories, and one of the joys for me as a player to this day is when I come to a room in a dungeon and can ultimately puzzle out the history of what this used to be and how it came to be what it is now.

There is a really interesting logic to Haggemoth that results in the first half of the dungeon being harder than the second half, but as my players aren’t there yet, I’ll talk more about that later. For now, they come to the next hallway, after cleaning bug gunk off their boots:

This hallway is similar to the vestibule. All kinds of miscellaneous debris is scattered over the floor. The doors to the south and east have been battered and smashed beyond hope of repair, but the door to the north seems to be somewhat solid. The corridor narrows to the west, proceeding deeper into the mountainside.

There are a few dead ends here. West is the actual path forward. To the north is storage, but a vicious mold has overtaken it, turning everything to poisonous rot. To the south, a Xorn has recently burrowed into the area. Originally from the Elemental plane of Earth, he covets the gold and gems in the mountainside and has stayed, slowly gathering some precious rubies and diamonds. If he ever spots Karinna, he’ll lust immediately after her “Eye of Callax,” as it is an extremely large, extremely rare, and extremely beautiful gemstone. He also knows, intrinsicially, some of the secrets of this place, and can be compelled or bargained into sharing them if treated with proper respect and offered rewards. He knows one of the biggest secrets that my players still don’t know...

My group takes the North route and almost immediately is overcome by the mold, taking massive damage as the spores tear at their lungs. Fire kills the stuff, and one of them uses a torch to light up enough of the mold to render it harmless, but the damage is done. They decide to pull back and take a rest before adventuring further. And during the night, the Xorn attacks, snatching one of the soldiers (Biggs) and pulling him back inside the tomb. The players awaken and give chase and a quick combat ensures.

Xorns are cool. Old school DnD monsters, they represent a nice bit of world building in that they come from the elemental plane of earth, thus suggesting the larger universe that the fantasy game situates itself in. They can be a tough kill in DnD 5 because of their burrow ability, in which they disappear into the earth around them, becoming completely immune to all attacks. In one round, therefore, they can disappear into the earth, appear right below someone, and get an attack off. If they wait a round and successfully make a hide check, they can get the attack off at advantage for surprise. And depending on how you want to play it from there, you can add all sorts of bonuses to their attack and/or defense because they are burrowed (DnD 5 is intentionally loose on how these things work, letting DMs adjust the rules to their own style and game). I like to add some defensive AC bonuses, but I also like to be fair about retreating: if they reburrow while they are right underneath someone, it counts as a movement and gives the players opportunity attacks. Picture all the tentacles disappearing into the ground while the players hack at them...

The players don’t seek to barter with the Xorn, but go at it headlong, getting off some very good strikes very quickly. Before long, they have defeated it, even with it burrowing and opening up right under Abenthy (that crazy high AC is helping him immensely here).

Sadly, Biggs has perished in the attack, leaving them with only two of their NPCs to carry on through the dungeon. Which brings me to another topic.

Character Cards

Our campaign has never been without allies and helpers. some may remember the half-orc barbarian woman that the group hired in Ottoman’s Dock, who lost her life to Rose of Ottoman’s Dock, or the bodyguard of the Butcher of Skagos, who perished in the Icy Wastes during a fight with Worg Riders. These early NPCs were stated out fully, like Player Characters and taken over by one of my players. I didn’t like this system, because it made a lot of extra work for us. I had to create the characters, which made it difficult to throw in improvised NPCs and companions at any given moment, and put an extra burden of roleplaying and stat tracking on my players that I felt left either the NPC or their own PC with a little less investment. At the same time, just having NPCs be “background extras” that fit into description but had no actual effect on gameplay, didn’t feel right either.

My solution was to create Character Cards. I talked about this back around the time the party was going through the Desert of Thud but since then I have refined the process. Character Cards now give a multitude of in-combat and out-of-combat options for players to use. The current cards look like this:

Xaviee, Human Fighter

Once per combat: do 1d6 slashing damage to any opponent.

Once per combat: roll 1d6. If the result is a 5 or 6, then +2 to all ally attacks and damage this round.

Reaction: Block an attack completely. Roll 1d6. If the result is 1-4, Xaviee is permanently dead.

BLAZE OF GLORY: Sacrifice Xaviee to add +4 to all ally attacks and Damage this round.

Samuel, Human Guard

Once per combat: do 1d6 slashing damage to any opponent

Once per combat: do 2d6 slashing damage to any opponent. Roll 1d6, if result is 1 or 2, Samuel dies, permanently.

Once per combat: do 3d6 slashing damage to any opponent. Roll 1d6, if result is 1-4, Samuel dies, permanently.

Reaction: Block an attack completely. Roll 1d6, if result is 1-4, Samuel is permanently dead.

You can see how Xaviee is a little more powerful, because his abilities carry less risk of dying when he uses them, representing his higher level. This is a quick and surprisingly clean way for me to represent a usable NPC/retainer with very few stats. We don’t worry about placement of the NPC on our maps, or try to simulate enemies targeting them in combat. If they die because of their roll, it’s assumed they were hit enough times by the enemy to perish. If there are certain situations where it just doesn’t make sense that they can be used, like the heroes are fighting underwater and Xaviee has been left on shore, then we take them out of use for the combat. Simple is best.

It also builds more of a connection I feel between them and the players, as these are decently powerful “items” that they do not want to lose. I am reminded of Final Fantasy Tactics, where most of your party never have a single word to say during the story, but yet you care about them simply because you use them in combat. Because they are a part of your gameplay they actually end up being more a part of your story than the actual story, as for the most part 70% of an RPG is combat and gameplay and only 30% is cutscenes and exposition. Possibly that number is even lower in Dungeons and Dragons, depending on your play style.

The character cards will continue to morph and change as we continue to play and I seek the correct balance between gameplay and function.

Halls of Bone

Progressing forward, after a brief mourning for the lost Biggs, the players come to a gigantic hall filled with bones:

This large, columned hall is replete with various carvings and relief sculptures depicting traditional Dwarven motifs: the forge, the anvil, the pick and axe, the tankard, and so forth. What was once a reflecting pool down the center of the hall now contains a thick layer of slime. At one end of the room is a 10’ tall statue of a clean-shaven dwarf, wearing a studded belt and a rune-encrusted crown with three black gems set in it. To either side, a balcony looks down on the central chamber. Phosphorescent mold on the walls and ceiling provides a dim, greenish light. What strikes you most, however, is that the floor is littered with bones – uncountable skeletons of man and beast lay scattered around the room, some still clutching to the tattered and rusted remains of armor and weapons.

“This is a trap,” Abenthy says, and the others quickly agree.

They aren’t wrong, though it is an unusual trap.

In the original 3.5 module, crossing a line within 30 feet of the statue activates the bones, which become 3d6+1 miscellaneous skeleton creatures and 1 large skeletal creature. This happens every time the line is crossed, up to a maximum of 50 skeletons and 5 large skeletons, all armed differently. These are stated out so that the little skeletons are weak hitters but very hard to kill (with damage reduction and very high AC) and the large skeletons are brutally heavy hitters and also pretty tough to kill. The design of the trap is that the players will be surrounded and overwhelmed by a bunch of regular undead who soften them up for the killing blow done by the big skeleton. When this horde emerges, some players will fall back to ranged position, while others will move up to tank and deal damage. Problem for them is, every time they cross that invisible line, whether retreating or advancing, the trap reactivates. Soon players will be terrifyingly outnumbered. Quick thinking players will realize that the statue is creating the effect and target that, but even then, the summoned skeletons don’t disappear, and players can be left in a whole heap of trouble.

Overal, the intended effect of the trapis to terrify players and set them up to be wary moving forward. They do have the option of running away deeper into the tomb, but the very next hallway is filled with spinning blades. If the players can roll high enough dexterity, they can pass the blades and effectively put a unpassable barrier between themselves and the skeletons, but it will be a tense moment, as failing the roll does grave damage and knocks them backwards, right into the waiting hands of the undead.

Translating this encounter into a 5th edition battle appropriate to six or seventh level characters is a challenge. Skeleton hordes don’t pose quite the same threat in 5th edition. In 3.5, a horde of this size could roll enough dice to grapple or trip even high level characters, setting them up for deadly coup-de-graces by the large skeletons, or weakening their AC enough to allow even the weaker skeletons to get hits off. Trip doesn’t exist in 5th edition, though, and while grapple can set up for a deadly “grapple, force player to prone” combo, it doesn’t give all the bonuses or options that exist in 3.5. I could emulate this by giving the skeletons bonuses to their grapple checks and some special abilties once they have the players grappled, simulating the “Night of the Living Dead” aspects of this encounter, but it feels like it will cause this room to devolve into a series of mindless rolls, the players rolling much less dice than me, but with bigger bonsues. That game quickly can become old, especially if they are facing fifty skeletons.

Instead, I try to figure out what frightens me. I think of the Silent Hill games and those twitchy nurses. Then I think about a room with dozens of them and I have my answer.

I design three skeletons for this encounter. The basics are below:

Twitch Skeletons

These skeletons are small in statue and their arms end in sharp points rather than hands. They gyrate as they move across the floor towards you, their jaws clicking open and closed in a silent protest of the horrors their afterlife has become.

The Twitch skeletons make up about 16 of the skeletons in the room. They have a very high dexterity and a 40 ft movement speed. They also have multi-attack, letting them get off two attempts to deal damage. The damage is not high, nor is their life, but their attack bonus is +8 and their AC in the high teens. The point is that they can close quickly and surround a foe, and after that, they can easily wear them down. As an added bonus, if enough of them are killed, the rest of them do something... interesting...

Normal Hitter

Out of the bone piles emerge skeletal warriors, wearing tattered remains of armor and wielding rusted weaponary and ancient bows. As you watch, one reaches into the bone pile at its feet and pulls free a straight arm bone, which it then nocks to its bow and fires at you from across the balconied room.

Basically regular skeletons, but I improved their attack a little to let them get off the occasional hit. These guys are truly here to hamper and physically get in the way. I also give them a little bit of an interactive option with my third skeleton...

The Minotaur Colossal

Lying broken against the dwarven statue is a large creature, tendons and strands of muscle still connecting its various bones into a humanoid shape with a massive bull’s head. The horns of the skull are stained a dull red with dried blood and across its lap lies a massive axe. As the humming in the room subsides, you see to your horror the creature stirring. When it stands, it is nearly eleven feet tall. It moves its head about and one of its empty sockets fixates on you. With a grunt, the creature begins to move forward, slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed to a charge.

This is my version of the “big hitter” in the room. I only use one of him, and as such I’ve buffed him up a little bit. He is, at core, a Skeletal Guardian as described in the monster manual, but with boosted stats and I added in a bull rush ability that can gore a player and knock him prone. His big weakness is his size, making it hard for him to manuever around the room and easy to hit, and while he hits hard he is not as accurate as his twitchy buddies. He does have the ability to heal however by grabbing a normal hitter and reworking their bones into his own, healing himself for whatever hitpoints they have left (but of course destroying them in the process).

A Clean Sweep

Unaware of exactly what the trap is, the players proceed cautiously. First, they clamber up onto the balcony, thinking that will at least give them the higher ground if it comes to a sudden fight. Then they start using Abenthy and Tyrion’s shields as makeshift brooms to sweep the bones in front of them and off the balcony as they move, trying to avoid having any behind them. This proceeds well for a good long while. There are rooms up here, too, each one leading to a small chamber carved with murals that represent the journey towards power in Haggemoth’s life. There is a depiction of him learning all the schools of magic, there is a room showing his accumulation of massive wealth (it also holds a mimic that gives them some brief trouble), there is a room showing him forging great weapons of power (including, oddly enough, a set of scales that he seems keenly interested in), and there is one showing the banishment of Haggemoth from his people and his sailing on a golden ship towards the remote island of Rori Rama.

Eventually, the players come close enough to trigger the trap. They end up triggering it twice before Karinna finally has the idea of putting an arrow into its gemstones, smashing them until she hits the correct one. This stops the trap, but not the 36 or so skeletons that have arrisen to fight them, including the massive minotaur skeleton, who easily clambers on top of the balcony to give battle.

“Hold your ground!” shouted Abenthy, placing his shield in front of him and staring down the massive bone creature that stalked the upper balcony towards him. Behind the minotaur, the masses of twitching skeletons gathered like the sea held back by a dam.

“Fuck that,” Tyrion shouted in his shrill, nasally voice. He began to play his lute and light exploded suddenly behind the minotaur, so bright that Abenthy squinted and turned away. When he looked back, the skeletons were stumbling into each other, swiping at nothing, and had stopped making any forward progress.

“They are blinded!” Abenthy called out. “Now is our chance.”

“They are distracted,” Tyrion corrected, and then followed as Abenthy moved forward, the two of them raining down blows on the minotaurian skeleton until it leapt off the balcony to escape the onsault. Even as it leapt, though, skeletons gathered below it, climbing up onto it, shifting and becoming part of it. Here, a rib that Abenthy had shattered regrew, and there the arm that Tyrion had knocked sprawling as the creature leapt was reforming out of the bones of another skeletong. Meanwhile, more skeletons were clambering up the steps to the upper levels, and they shook their twitching fellows free of their spell and turned them towards the companions. Xaviee and Samuel were the first to see them coming and the two soldiers shouted warnings before falling back towards Karinna, who was quickly disappearing inside a cloud of darkness.

Karina has used this trick before, to strong effect, in the battle against the Bugbears. The skeletons are a little more “programmed” though; when they can no longer see or hear their targets, they quickly revert to “stand by” behavior, all except the minotaur who is in a rage and goes wandering around inside the cloud of darkness, searching for the players. He finds Abenthy and takes a swing at him with a huge axe. Samuel jumps in front of the blow (using character card here) and miraculously survives, but is tossed backwards by the force of the swing, disappearing deeper in the darkness. With no hope of finding him, the players beat a haphazard retreat, making their way up the stairs towards the tomb entrance. The minotaur follows for a brief moment but after finding himself surrounded and taking some solid hits, he flees back to the bone room to recover.

Now there is a moment to breath. The players have been badly hurt. No one has fallen unconcious, but their spells are depleted (from healing, mostly) and their two companions do not seem to have made the escape with them.

“We cannot leave them in there,” Abenthy states. 

Tyrion doesn’t share his dedication to companions. “They’ll be fine,” he says in his heavy accent. “Just let’s get some sleep and I’m sure they’ll find their way back to us.”

But Abenthy is implacable and begins making his way back towards the room. The others hurry to follow, Karina’s cloak of darkness wearing off and trailing wisps of ink-black fog behind her as they descend the stairs towards the bone room.

It breathed. There in the center of the room, crouched with the other skeletons crawling over it like ants on a hill, it breathed. The creature had grown two extra arms, fashioned from the bones of its fellows. And it looked up as they entered.

“Shit,” Karina said, nocking an arrow to her bow. But Abenthy was already striding forward, his arms flung wide, roaring a challenge that was answered in kind by a shriek from the minotaur. It rose, stamped its bony hooves, and then it charged.

Karina was not sure how it happened, but suddenly Samuel was back at Abenthy’s side, and Xaviee was charging out from behind a pillar as well. The blow that would have skewered Abenthy, armor and all, instead shattered Samuel’s spine. The horn that impaled him was wide as a man’s arm and long as a spear. Samuel was lifted into the air as the beast raised its head and shook from side to side until the body of the poor soldier was flung away. Then Xaviee was there, striking at the creature’s back, and Abenthy was moving now, too. His blade shimmering with dark flame, he struck at the creature’s four arms as they reached for him to pull him apart. Behind her a mournful song was being song. Tyrion had pulled free his lute and was singing, each word soudning like sobs, like childhood, like wine spilled in rain, like sadness. She was crying, whether from the song or from everything that had happened to her in her entire life, but she was also fighting, loosing arrow after arrow at the great skeletal beast. And finally, with a mournful sound like the wind escaping a dark cave, the skeletal minotaur collapsed and was still.

Abenthy ran to Samuel, preparing a spell to heal him, but the damage was too far gone. The man was broken beyond basic healing and was taking his last breaths.

“There is another creature,” he said, blood bubbling between his lips. “One formed of the many. It escaped, into a crack in the wall. It is waiting, watching...”

Nothing more did he say. His final warning hung over them and they all felt cold.

Next post takes our players deeper into the tomb, as they encounter deadly traps and deal with the Things Left Undone in the Halls of Bone.

[jean-the-demolitionist]

While Barbara and Stricklander going out on a date to the costume party of the hospital, Jim and his friends want to use the night of Halloween to have some fun time. But Jean and Rico (NotEnrique) have their own idea of fun and cause trouble wherever they can.

Yeah, a Halloween themed story in spring, I know. But I really got attached to that random idea I recently had and wanted to write it down. I plan on doing 5 chapters for this, two with Barbara and Stricklander, two with Jim and the group and the last one with them all together. Let's see how well this goes. This would be actually in the timeline of my Redemption Story.

The first dozen times it was amusing to watch the humans using all kinds of excuses to dress up in either a very fancy way or to scare others. In his first years as human Stricklander even participated in the dress ups with eager. But with the decades it got more and more tedious and lost its appeal. What was the joy in dressing up and pretending to be someone else, when it's something you do all day long? Even when he wasn't lying about his true self anymore, he hardly could find the joy of such festivities as Halloween again, since the traditions had changed so drastically in a way he wasn't very pleased with. 

Albeit, there were still a few things he enjoyed from this holiday, the pumpkin carving as example. He had joined this activity to show Jim and his friend how to properly carve a pumpkin, but somehow it ended with him and Jim having some kind of competition who could carve pumpkins the quickest. Stricklander had been able to declare himself the winner, which was most satisfying, but hadn't saved him from cleaning up the mess with the others. 

Another amusing event had been, when Draal had opened the door for some early trick-or-treaters. He had refused to give the children candies, mostly because he didn't know about this tradition. As a result they had thrown rotten eggs at the Troll, when he had been out in the garden. Stricklander and Jean hadn't been able to hold back and laugh at Draal when he had looked like a stunned mullet, while Jim had to stop the Troll from either attacking the children or the Changelings. 

As soon as the sun had completely set the Human teenagers, Trolls (besides Draal) and Changelings had left the house to watch the Halloween parade and go on a short trick-or-treat round. Stricklander couldn't help the sense of unease sliding through him at the thought of letting Jean go outside on a night where playing pranks was the norm, but he hadn't want to rob the girl from her only opportunity to be among human crowds. He just had to trust Jim and the other to have a watchful eye on her. 

Right now Stricklander sat on the couch in the living room, nervously fidgeting with the newspapers. He hated being nervous, but he couldn't help it. 

A few days ago Barbara had asked him, if he would come with her to the Halloween party of the hospital. He had been very surprised by this, for one because he was pretty sure she was still - of course justified - mad at him for what he had done to her and he hadn't gone out since he only had his troll form now. But Barbara had a good point, people would simply assume it was a costume and when she dropped the word 'date' during her speech he readily agreed to come. 

While his Troll form covered the costume for him, Barbara hadn't told him yet what she would dress up as, saying it would be a surprise. Stricklander knew that she was a proper woman, so he doubted that she would wear one of these indecent things that a lot of Human females liked to wear this age, much to his dislike. He had no problem with admitting that he was old-fashioned. It simply was his opinion that those costumes shouldn't be worn in public. 

Barbara had been up in her room since afternoon, when she had ordered them to clean up and Stricklander started to wonder if she would need help with her costume. He had just stood up, when he heard steps from above leaving Barbara's room. 

"Sorry that I took so long. Should've kept in mind that the body paint takes a while to dry up," Barbara called to him, while she walked down.

Body paint? With a raised eyebrow Stricklander left the living room to meet her at the staircase. When he spotted her at the last steps of it, he stopped dead in his track and his eyes went wide. 

Barbara wore a black, long-sleeved, fringed dress that only had laces to cover her sternum and back. The skin, that wasn't covered by the dress, was colored in a shimmering teal color, which made her hair - which she currently wore open, only tied up together at the tip of it - stand out so much more. It took him several seconds to notice the little horns on her head and the drawn markings on the teal skin. She looked like a...like a...

"So, what do you say?" she asked him after she had descended the stairs completely and turned one time around so he could inspect her from all sides. "I have the feeling that the dress might be a bit too fancy for a troll costume, but I hadn't had a chance to wear it for years."

Stricklander was still so flabbergasted by her appearance that he didn't react immediately. The dress wasn't cut in any risqué way, but his heart still thumped very hard in his chest by the sight of her half covered legs and back. She looked utterly attractive right now and her glasses, that she still wore, gave her whole look an adorable note. Only after a few seconds he was able to react by shaking his head and stammered slightly.

"T-Troll?" 

It was rather obvious with how accurate Barbara had made this Troll costume, even when it would be more correct to label her as a Changeling for her more human shape. But Stricklander couldn't care less about this little detail right now. In his eyes Barbara had always been one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his long life, tho he had to admit it always had been the human part of him who thought so. With her looking like this it was now the turn of his Troll side to appreciate this gorgeous sight before him.

"Since half of the family is going out as Trolls, I wanted to follow the trend," Barbara explained with a shrug, but then looked to the side with a nervous smile "And well....I thought it would be a nice idea to have some kind of...couple costume."

When his heart had thumped hard before, it was now leaping up to his throat. He wanted to be happy about this, because when this wasn't a major hint then he didn't know what it was. But he hard such a hard time right now to comprehend this, why Barbara was still so nice to him, after all the things he had done.

Meanwhile Barbara was misinterpreting his shocked state and started to fumble with her hands.

"Oh boy, I really hope I didn't do something offensive with this. Maybe I really should've asked before." she mumbled, when Stricklander suddenly talked again.

"Why?" The question was asked rather quiet and Barbara looked up to him with a confused expression. He continued with a sigh. "Why are you doing this Barbara? I mean...I don't want to appear ungrateful, but there is certainly somebody more suitable you...you could go with to the party."

"What do you mean with more suitable?" Barbara asked with a frown.

"Someone who's default state isn't a monster!" Stricklander pointed at himself, voice gone rather angrily. But than he deflated and looked guilty to the ground. "Someone who hasn't taken advantage of you to protect their own sorry life."

"And that's all?" she asked almost nonchalant, which makes him looking up puzzled. "Walt, you are living here for months, I'm used to the way you look now."

"Being used to and...that are two different things," he grumbled, not really clarifying what that exactly was. 

"Still, I'm a grown woman and I can decide for myself, if I like this true form of you or not." Barbara stepped closer and started to poke his chest "And yes, you did a lot of horrible things. Using me as shield, threatening Jim and his friends, wanting to kill him and god knows what."

With every poke Stricklander went back a step and made himself smaller. Guilt was clear on his face and he looked ashamed to the side. Barbara stops with the poking and smiled at him again.

"But you are showing remorse and trying to fix things. You are protecting us with your life." He dared to look to her and her smile grew even more warm. "Maybe Jim and I won't never really forgive you for the things you've done in the past. But we trust you now that you won't do these things again." Carefully she took his hands in hers. "Besides I do remember saying that I like spending time with you. And that hasn't changed."

"Barbara..." His voice was hoarse from all the emotion that were caused by her words. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then looked at her again, expression full of gratitude, but still with a hint of doubt. "I'm really not sure if I deserve this..."

"You do. You have earned yourself some good things, so get used to it," she grinned and squeezed his hand, whereupon he had to chuckle. Since he seemed to be okay again, Barbara changed the topic back to her costume.

"So, you still haven't told me how I look like. I need the opinion of a professional." she said and looked expectant at him. Stricklander hummed, but before he answered he leant down and raised her hands to his lips to kiss them. 

"You look more beautiful than any gemstone I've ever seen," he gave his opinion in a deep tone. His voice and the way he looked so enamored at her made Barbara blush and giggle a bit bashfully. 

"I think I like this trollish smooth-talking." 

"Well, I could go on all evening, if you want to," he said in a suave manner, his confidence - and also hope - boosted after Barbara's little speech. His reward was another cute giggle from her, but before she could reply the loud bang of the backdoor interrupted them. They looked into the direction of the kitchen and heard Draal's distinctly mumble of "Fleshbag children."

"He calls himself the Deadly, but is afraid of a few human children," Stricklander scoffed and straighten up again. Barbara let go of his hands and put her's on the hips.

"You would also be afraid of them, if they would aim with eggs at you." she said with a smirk that he returned. 

"Can't argue with that." He then went to the front door and opened it for Barbara. "But for now, we should go. Fashionably late is good, but we don't want to be too late, right?"

"Of course not," she said and rolled her eyes in fond annoyance and grabbed her purse to follow him outside to the car.

[axolotiels]

Kick in the Head Ch.4

We get Doug’s perspective today and take a trip to a bazaar. Thanks to @actingwithportals for giving me a spellcheck!

   Chell had been absolutely right: Doug did not like markets in the least, much less markets like Kaltag. They weren’t even all the way there; in fact, they had a few hundred feet to go. That did not stop the din of it from reaching his ears and ringing them from here to what used to be the state border.

   The sun beat down on their backs from high in the sky, occasionally crossed by a cloud and having its harsh rays pushed away, but most of the time it was as bright and garish as it had always been. To the left of them was an overgrown forest, and to the right there was a mostly flat field with high grass and the occasional bush. Doug decided to walk closer to the field, even if it was in less shade than the left side of the dirt track; the grass of the field was only knee-high and could barely hide a decently sized rabbit, but the forest…

   Doug was what you may call cautious, which means that he took every precaution to every problem that he could ever think up. Unless you are a supercomputer you may find this a difficult task, but Doug was not a supercomputer (Though he had worked on one, quite briefly) and he seemed to find more solutions to possible problems than one could find lawsuits at a bootleg movie company. It stands to reason that any number of dangerous animals were waiting in the forest, from mountain lions, bobcats, wasps, easily disturbed owls… He shuddered to think of it.

   Chell normally wasn’t talkative unless she wanted something or he’d done something wrong, the latter happening more than the former, but it was still a rare occurrence. Nonetheless, Doug was still very nervous with Cube nowhere in sight. He knew she was fine back at the shed, but he didn’t like having nothing on his back, and he wasn’t allowed to carry the knapsack with all the trading goods in it. He settled for carrying two loaves of bread that he’d made earlier that morning before the sun came up.

   They rounded a marking rock and made a turn toward the market, it’s noises getting louder as they grew closer. He grimaced and hoped that Chell didn’t notice said grimace through his beard, and cast a nervous glance to his left. She was focused on the marketplace with her eyes squinting against the glare of the sun, her backpack clinking with every step. She’d cut her hair short recently when she found that keeping short hair clean was much easier than keeping long hair untangled, and though in some spots the cuts were a bit uneven, Doug found that he liked it.

  Almost on a dime, Chell cocked her eyes toward him in a silent dare, the rest of her face unmoving, and he looked away quickly. She was so frightening most of the time. Being a head taller than him and being able to elbow drop a weightlifter without so much as breaking a sweat didn’t help his case of ‘try not to be scared of her’. Another fact that did not help him be any less afraid was that he knew for a fact that, should she have the desire to, she could throw him a good few feet if he wasn’t fast enough to avoid it. Luckily, he had been fast enough to avoid it after the first time.

   They finally got away from the stretchy fork of forest and into the more open field area where the market was situated. The high-pitched laughter of one of the usual sellers there could be heard, even some distance away. If Doug remembered correctly, she usually sold things like salvaged jewelry and carved bones, rocks, and wood. It was all useless but very pretty, especially some of the things she carved herself.

   He tried to casually feel around in his pocket, ultimately looking like someone who had tried to pull a knife but had failed miserably, but Chell paid him no mind. He felt the hollow top half of a cat skull and grimaced again. It wasn’t as if it was dirty or even recently killed, he just disliked dead things.

   Doug, unlike Chell, was not a person who was prone to hating. There were very few things in this world that he truly hated. For all of its atrocities and murder, he could think of at least one or two mildly redeeming things about Aperture before the collapse, but he’d bring about hell if he ever said such a thing out loud. The rest of Aperture he wished to see rot in a boiling pit that sort of looked like hell, but they were away from it now, so that was past them.

   Admittedly, they were not as far away from Aperture as Doug would have liked. He knew the facility spiralled on down for miles, but not that it reached all the way out into the countryside like some sterile and deadly Willy Wonka factory that only mass-produced problems. They were about five or so miles from the wheat field, if he could remember correctly; either way, he remembered that it was not far enough. He didn’t wish to cause any more scuffles than necessary.

   They’d gotten closer to the market so that they could see a little inside the tent’s open flaps. A short fellow with red hair and tan skin was walking back and forth between the two booths at the entrance with what seemed to be a much taller lady with pale hair watching him with her arms crossed. He trained his eyes toward the ground as they neared the tent and held the loaves of bread close to his chest.

   “I’ll be around Booth C if you need me.” Chell said at him, not really expecting a response. She did not get one.

   He’d only been to Kaltag market once, over a year ago. Now that he had a space that was at least half-his and was not trying to kill him, he didn’t like leaving it too often. Of course he’d go outside and tend the the clearing where Chell had planted her tiny wheat field when it needed it, or the slowly-growing vegetables, but he was much more at home in the shack. He had a tiny little workspace there with a few rusty tools, assorted bits of paper, and pretty rocks that he insisted upon keeping. There were only a few and none of them were gemstones, but he still liked them. The best ones were always found in the nearby river, either washed up or just regular rocks that were worn smooth by the flow. He didn’t like going to the stream alone, so he didn’t go often and only had a few rocks.

   The stream was where he had found the cat skull as well, on one of the few outings that he’d been on by himself. He left it wedged between two rocks for a few weeks before finally gathering the nerve to pick it up and sell it. If he didn’t need to sell it, he might have buried it.

   Suddenly, it was much easier to see when they finally entered the tent and the scathing rays of the sun were cut from view, excepting a few slim streams where it slipped between sheets in the tarps. The tiny red-haired man was speaking rather intensely in a heavy accent that he could not discern, and when Doug dared to spare him a quick once-over, he thought that the man might have attacked him if he looked any moment longer. The woman that seemed to almost be chaperoning the little man did him no-less disease, so he moved along.

   Chell had parted ways with him as soon as she’d entered the tent, and was now indeed at booth c; it was a weapons dealer she looked to be haggling with.

   Doug kept his head down as he walked past  and toward booth d; this was not his destination, but something had caught his eye nonetheless. It was crammed full of shelves, and each of those shelves were crammed full of books, which were in their turn crammed full of something that he could actually read. Most of them he didn’t pay any mind to however, seeing as most of their titles were things like ‘30-Minute Dinners’ and ‘Mexican Food and You’, none of which particularly interested him for multiple reasons. He couldn’t make the recipes in them and thinking about food he didn’t have made him hungry, even if he was marginally well fed compared to two or so years ago.

   The shopkeeper, a young bright-eyed girl with curly hair and dark skin, looked up at him from her tattered book and smiled. “Morning, Mister! What can I help you with?”

   It took him a moment to find his tongue after glancing about the shelves and finding only recipes. “You wouldn’t happen to have any books that aren’t um…” He waved his hand in a fathoming motion, struggling to meet her gaze but feeling like it was the least he could do since he wouldn’t end up buying anything. “Cookbooks?”

   She put her hands on her hips and looked around the lower shelves thoughtfully. “Uh… maybe. What were you looking for?”

   “Not a cookbook.” He answered simply, and set about leafing through the myriad of them.

   The shopkeeper crouched down behind a stack of cardboard boxes (Both of which were labeled ‘Southern Cooking for Northern Chefs’) and began rummaging, kicking up dust and the smell of old books. Doug squinted at a few titles and repositioned the bread that he was carrying, not wanting to put it down..

   With a victorious ‘ah-hah!’, the book-keep brought out 4 moth-eaten hardbacked books. The front covers were mostly intact but discolored with time, some in better condition than others. Doug’s bushy gray-streaked eyebrows furrowed for a second.

    “I hope you like horror.” The keeper tittered, pushing them in his direction.

   He didn’t say it and hoped that his hair would hide the obvious non-verbal cues, but Doug did not like horror in the least. He’d lived through horror, he didn’t want to read about stuff that may or may not have existed doing who-knew-what to people. One of the few things in this world he found absolutely safety in was words, especially the ones he had written; quite a ridiculous concept, to find safety in simple words, but words told him what he wanted to hear and absolutely no more than that. At least, the ones that Doug  wrote. He knew that nobody wrote what he wanted to hear but him, and the idea that his safe little words could morph into something that could fill him with terror was an abhorrent thought that he did not like spending time entertaining.

   Still, he politely thumbed over the books and their beat up and often minimalistic covers. A book about a vampire, one about a dark tower consumed by roses, one about someone with an odd name, and… puzzled, he squinted at the book’s cover.

   “Miss, I think you left one in.” He said softly, and took a step back. Some dust swirled in the air before his eyes in a streak of the sun as a gust of wind tugged viciously at the tent.

   The shopkeep picked it up and looked at him, bewildered. “It isn’t a cookbook. You’ve never heard of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?”

   Doug said nothing, and in his confusion, actually looked a bit angry.

   “It’s a kid’s book. Silly but sweet.” The keep explained, and slid it back toward him. “I read it as a kid. I don’t think this is my old copy, though.”

   He picked up the book and looked through the summary; he had indeed heard of the book but only through the grapevine. He was more familiar with the film that had come out in the 70s, though he’d seen it but one time and didn’t remember much about it. Everything that wasn’t happening to him at the moment was a dismal blur.

   Her lowered his head in a violent jerk as both the man at booth c and Chell laughed rather loudly, interrupting the buzzy sounds of the bazaar. He wrinkled his nose and squinted his eyes, one of his many visual cues to indicate discomfort, and went back to studying the book. Oh you made her laugh. Diamond in the rough, aren’t you? He thought with no small trace of bitterness.

   “You alright there, bud?” The book keeper asked, and before he could nod, he saw Chell’s heterochromic eyes peer over the divider curiously and squinted at the book in his hand. She returned to her business in booth c.

   Doug looked at the scrawly illustrations by the author and found them quite charming. He started calculating things in his head and wondered whether or not he could afford the beat-up little thing after buying what he came to Kaltag for in the first place. He’d noticed, much to his dismay, that the shopkeeper was eying his bread and hiding it very badly.

   He put the book down and tapped it several times, not looking back up but gesturing over to the lady who sold bones in booth h. “I-I’ll be right back.” And off he went.

   The bone lady was mystical in the fact that she did not act like a real person. She was a portly old white woman, one of the elderly people that could be heard talking of times before the surface collapse about things like swing music and tax collectors. She sat at her booth with her hands laced together in her lap, appearing to be asleep. When Doug approached, however, quiet as a church mouse, she opened her eyes.

   They were vivid gold that matched the almost gaudy earrings that she wore, as well as her four or five bracelets. Her hair was a mousy dull brown that hung over one of her metallic eyes, though he knew the metallic illusion was his imagination. She said nothing, watching him intently.

   Doug looked down at her table nervously, surveying the goods that ranged from carved rock and wood to bones and gemstones. There were rat skulls, several chips of quartz and what appeared to be red jasper, but he was never well-versed in stones, and as he scanned it nervously with his hand on his chin, he was glad to find that he saw exactly what he was looking for.

   “I was wondering if we could trade, miss.” He said, looking the shopkeep in the eye.

   She raised her eyebrow and sat up in her chair, resting her elbows on the table which Doug now noticed was covered in black velvet. “What have you got?”

   Doug held the bread out, looking for a place to set it, and settled on a chair nearby. It’s wrapping crackled as he set it down and he saw that the woman was a bit impressed but not quite enough to warrant major trade. He felt his hands begin to shake as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the top half of the cat skull, turning it away so he wouldn’t have to look into the hollow sockets where its eyes had once been.

  He was a squeamish man who couldn’t handle the sight of blood; it made him ill to see any more than a shallow papercut or a pinprick. In fact, he didn’t like anything that made him think about death anywhere in his immediate vicinity. Even though the skull was clean and free of anything resembling flesh or tissue, he didn’t enjoy looking at it. This wasn’t for him, after all.

   The shopkeep at least looked a bit more interested now. She took out a magnification eyepiece and the skull from Doug’s hand. Turning it in her palm several times, she threw a haphazard glance at the loaves of bread. “What do you want?”

  Doug remembered, perhaps from some old business class, that the first person in a haggle to name a price always lost. He pretended to ponder greatly at the things he knew were pretty expensive, staring at the candy reds and greens of the actual gemstones that once would have been faceted into fine jewelry.

   Somewhere else in the tent he could hear a radio that was much more clear of static than theirs piping out something about jingle-jangle-jingling spurs. He swallowed and focused on the beat; it wouldn’t really help all that much but it gave him something other than the transaction to pay attention to. “What can I get?”

   The lady gave him an expression of suspicion, one that probably helped her in many of her transactions, but Doug was quite used to people looking as though they wanted to shove him to the ground, so he didn’t flinch. Doug was quite used to a lot of aggressive mannerisms, and as long as the mannerisms didn’t escalate into actual fighting, he could take them.

   The shopkeep took out a piece of paper from behind the table and placed it flat over the section that he had been looking at with fake intent, and his eyes brightened a bit. “Whatever isn’t covered by the paper, hon.”

   Doug knew exactly what he had been looking for, but nonetheless pretended to glance around the table some more for a few seconds. When he felt satisfied with his acting, he pointed a quivering hand at a rose quartz carving with two chunky thrown-in onyx eyes. Or at least, he thought it was onyx.

   The shopkeep picked it up and squinted at it, almost like she hadn’t known it was on her table. “You don’t seem the type who’s looking for something like this.” She said nonchalantly, her gold jewelry shaking and sending little showers of light across the cubby.

   He was about to answer when his voice dwindled away as another’s spoke from the booth across the way. “Alright Doug, time to go.”

  He gulped audibly and raised a hand, hoping she would see it. Through his stringy black hair he looked from the shopkeeper to booth c and jerked his head, hoping that was all the explanation she needed. And it was.

   With a sly wink, she wrapped the little carving in some dirty tissue paper and took the cat skull and both loaves of bread, waving him goodbye as he slinked up to the booth where Chell was standing. She had her arms crossed and was leaning against a stack of books, leaving Doug momentarily bewildered. She had been at the weapon booth, hadn’t she?

   He was going to ask when she strode out towards the exit and the question left his tongue.

   Doug did not do well with many things. From someone being angry at him, attempting to gas him out, jumping long distances, to judging when he put too much sugar in his tea. He had learned to deal with this fact about himself quite tolerably for the most part, but something he had not quite learned to deal with was yelling. Yelling was a foremost sign of aggression which was definitely something that he did not do well with. He hadn’t even met Cave Johnson, the founder and CEO of Aperture Science Innovators, but just hearing him project his voice through recordings made him wither at the sound.

   Needless to say, when the man in the gun booth where Chell had been yelled out at him from across the tent, he flinched hard and crouched a bit, looking behind him with a horrified questioning expression on his face.

   “Hey, buddy… aren’t you the guy she almost threw into a concrete wall?”

   This gained the eye of everyone in the market, and if Doug could have vanished into thin air then he gladly would have. He felt the dozens of eyes now focused on the both of them and his head started pounding, his arms crossed and shaking.

   Not only was being the center of attention not something Doug wanted, another was also to remember the rather unfortunate way that he and Chell had met above the surface. Remembering it in a panic was completely different from mulling over it on a regular day when he had too little to do, and he saw it in flashes. It was like watching choppy animation. She was charging toward him close to the ground, he’d barely gotten out of the way. His throat tightened, remembering being yanked back by the lab coat and then her eyes…. Whatever feeling filled them it was not a positive one, and they glittered against the dark color of her hair.

   He felt a hand on the small of his back push him forward, and he hobbled on blindly out of the tent. Doug gritted his teeth and tried to breathe, I got what I came for. This was not a waste of time, this was not a waste of time, this was not a waste of time….

   The harsh sun struck the top of his head and he squinted his eyes shut, opening and closing his hands while trying to regain feeling in them.

   He couldn’t look up; he knew she’d be staring him down like a babysitter at a disobedient child. He found it hard to meet her gaze on a good day but he just couldn’t do it now. He shuffled along, just wanting to get back to the shack and perhaps pass out cold when he got there. Chell followed behind him, saying nothing, as she often did.

   To become lost in one’s thoughts is a very scary thing, and when one has several mental illnesses all kicking your brain while it’s down, it becomes even scarier. Doug tried not to focus on what he was thinking and instead concentrate his attention on the sounds his shoes made when they hit the road, rather miserably at that.

   Chell could be heard rustling around a bit, and she soon tapped his shoulder.

   He looked up, hunched and glassy-eyed, to see that as they walked that she was holding out a book.  It took him a moment to focus enough on it to see that it was, in fact, a book rather than some letter of dismissal. It was the book he’d been poking at in booth d; he’d honestly forgotten about the thing amongst all of the different signals his brain was giving him.

   Doug took the book and stared at the cover as he walked, finding it hard to comprehend. He blinked several times, furrowing his brow and ignoring all the impulses that were telling him to walk faster or otherwise collapse.

   “Thank you…” He managed to say, still sounding very confused.

   He almost jumped out of his skin when he remembered the whole reason for his trip to the market and Chell flinched a bit defensively. Doug pawed the wrapped carving out of his pocket. He’d initially meant it as a  long overdue peace offering but now he felt a bit obligated to give it to her now.

   When he held it out, Chell mirrored his confusion from moments before. They reached the fork of the forest and once again she started walking closer to it. When she unwrapped the crinkling dirty paper, her eyes opened in surprise; in her hand was a carved statue of a raven, perhaps a crow, made out of rose quartz with beady black eyes. Once it would have cost a decent amount of money, so Doug counted himself lucky that two loaves of bread and a cat skull would net him such a thing.

  He looked at her expectantly, waiting for a reaction. She held it up to eye level and looked at it closely, turning it over in her fingers.

   For about perhaps the third time that day, Doug had a heart attack. This particular heart attack was forced upon him when the oh-so familiar and oh-so earsplitting caw of Chell’s pet struck him like a bucket of cold water. Aleu flapped her ink-black wings and cawed again from the underbrush of the forest before bolting out toward them and landing unceremoniously on Chell’s shoulder.

   Doug eyed the bird warily, his book clutched close to him.

   The raven leaned her neck out and she studied the rose-quartz doppleganger from every side she could manage, and once she was done with that she looked at her human’s companion with another startlingly loud call. Doug did not like this one bit.

   Chell, on the other hand, must have thought that this was hilarious, because she snorted and looked at him from the corner of her eye. “She’s jealous. You brought me a better shiny.”

   This was most likely not what was going on, but Doug still thought it could have gone worse. “So… you like it?” He asked shakily.

   “Mhm.” Chell responded, and with Aleu swaying on her shoulder whilst giving Doug a dirty look, she continued down the road.