#Doctor who Commander Decks

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Crisis of Conscience by Borja Pindado

[nat-20s]

Ohhh my god Donna's ability on her magic the gathering card is soul bond orz

[purpleskyliner]

🎁Happy Christmas🎁

[vivalavillain]

{The Doctor and Rose Tyler in the TARDIS, just as it should be.

Featuring the absolutely lovely custom sleeves a very dear friend drew for me.

SFW under the cut. Merely cutting for length.}

[karl-von-moor-official]

Why, MTG, why? I just want Clara, Twelve, Eleven and Ten all in one deck. Why would you rob me of this? Why are you so cruel? Why are you making me buy so many decks? WHY

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 285

Adjective: Rebellious

Noun: Tissue

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Rebellious: showing a desire to resist authority, control, or convention; (of a person, city, or state) engaged in opposition or armed resistance to an established government or ruler; (of a thing) not easily handled or kept in place

Tissue: any of the distinct types of material of which animals or plants are made, consisting of specialized cells and their products; tissue paper; a disposable piece of absorbent paper, used especially as a handkerchief or for cleaning the skin; rich or fine material of a delicate or gauzy texture; an intricate structure or network made from a number of connected items

[dravidious]

You're more awesome than hell

My scry commander card felt boring so I changed the ability to interact with the bottom of the library.

[buffout-buffers]

Aight so like, as a huge lesbian and Magic the Gathering nerd I feel like I simply must discuss the beauty of the latest MTG Lesbian couple printed. But like, I have so much to say about it I might just finally sit down and write a video essay script about it.

[darkbluekies]

GOLDEN TRIAL PT1: In the belly of the beast

Part 2

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: Its 1935 and you've been sent on the Liner Normandie to retrieve a stolen painting. You have six suspects and the clock is ticking — you only have four days before the ship reaches New York to find it. But soon, you find yourself caught up in something even more serious than you could have believed.

Warnings: getting hit in the head with a bottle, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, stalker behavior, light misogyny(?), guns, needles, violence

Word count: 11.7k

DAY 1 — Debark

The ship towers over you like a mad giant. Gray smoke rises from the two forward funnels. It’s the biggest in the world, bigger than any man made object that can float. You shake your head. Focus. You’re not here for pleasure. You continue your way over to the terminal. The agency sent you in hopes of finding the lost painting, no one else. You need to stay focused, they’re counting on you.

Without questioning, you give the fake ID to the man behind the desk. When you had started out as an agent, you were always nervous that your covers would be blown and you would be found out. Nowadays, you’ve noticed that if you look nervous, risk are that you’ll be asked questions. 

You walk over the gangway with your bag in hand. You have just above four days to find the painting — a very famous portrait of a woman with her head slightly turned to the viewer, wearing a big, blank pearl earring. It was stolen from the Mauritshuis in the Netherlands two weeks ago, and details have revealed that it has been taken to France, and will be moved to America on the SS Normandie. The painting itself isn’t insanely big, but the fuss about it’s disappearance is. You have to find it at all cost. 

Before you got here, you had time to take a look at the passenger list. There are six people you recognise, where of five could be your potential smugglers. 

Silas Achilleos, a mob boss wanted by the police, and his second in command. A man like him was probably not interested in paintings, but he could have clients who did. And those could pay him heaps of money. 

Edmund of Vesanus, a young king who likes the bachelor life. He surrounds himself with loads of women and alcohol, partying like nothing matters. He would take the painting because he doesn’t want anyone else to have it. He’s traveling with his doctor, a certain Karl Kry who you don’t know much about. 

Hedwig Carter, a young heiress who’s father is noble, and who's mother is famous in the acting business is traveling with a young woman named Jerry Kim, someone you guess is Hedwig’s chaperone. Hedwig is known for getting whatever she wants with a snap of her fingers, and if she wants a painting … she will get it. Jerry, however, does not have much information out in the open. Everything about her before she started to work for Hedwig is wiped away. You want to know who she is and where she comes from, and what she would want a painting for.

You walk down the stairs to your cabin on A-deck and start to pack up, using the second bed in the room to store your bag. After settling in, you decide to take a look around this magnificent vessel to get familiar with it. You make your way up to the promenade deck and give the open cinema by the stairs a quick look. You guess that they’re going to put on movies once the ship reaches open water. If you’re lucky you’ll see something interesting. And hopefully, you have the time to watch it. 

The promenade is enclosed decorated with a gray floor, comfortable deck chairs and clear windows. A line in the tricolor fashion runs along the floor, as if to show where to walk. You walk on the line, flashing a little childish smile. You’ve left Le Havre and are on your way out towards the Atlantic’s open arms. The clock is ticking. 

Your eyes lock onto someone walking towards you and you immediately realize that it is Hedwig and her chaperone, an east asian girl … wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt. You don’t realize how obvious it is that you’re staring until the woman opens her mouth and you realize that they’ve stopped right in front of you. 

“What are you staring at, sir?” she asks, raising her eyebrows and putting her hands in her pockets. “If you want to say something, do it.”

“No—no, sorry”, you say quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Tell me, do you approve of women who wear pants?” 

It sure looks weird, but is it? When you think about it, aren't pants just pieces of the same fabric as skirts, just sewn differently?

“Uh, I … suppose so.”

To that, Jerry nods approvingly.

“I don’t see why only men should wear pants”, she says.

“Well, I don't feel comfortable wearing them”, Hedwig chuckles nervously and smiles softly. “But they fit you, Jerry. They really do.”

“You must be miss Carter”, you say, as if you don't know, and shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, please call me Hedwig! Who are you?” 

“I’m Axel Ainsworth, I'm in the art industry.”

Hedwig’s smile widens. “That is very interesting, I love art. Especially portraits. Capturing humanity’s differences and details are magical. Don’t you think so, Jerry?”

“I’m more for that new thing — surrealism, I think it’s called — where everything is here and there and weird to believe”, Jerry says, shrugging. “But portraits can be okay too, depending on what type.” 

Hedwig has turned her eyes to you, glued them onto you as if you are the only thing she could ever see. “Are you traveling alone, mister Ainsworth?” she asks. 

You have remembered your entire forged background and learned it skillfully. Even your fake name rolls off the tongue as smoothly as if it was your real name. You're traveling alone because you're on your way home to your fiancé from a business trip. 

“I see”, Hedwig smiles and turns to the woman next to her. “Let me introduce you to my chaperone, miss Jerry Kim. You're always welcome to sit with us during dinner. We'd be more than happy to accompany you.”

“I'm grateful to know that, miss.”

With that said, the two women walk away. You frown and sigh. Hedwig seems like a very sweet young woman, it’d be a shame if it was her who was the culprit. Her chaperone, on the other hand, gives you weird vibes. Something about the look in her eyes … as if she’s looking right through you, scanning you. 

You continue down the promenade until you turn into the Winter Garden, a half moon-shaped room full of plants and lamps and big, wide windows, overlooking the special shaped bow that has given Normandie the speed it has. Passengers have already started gathering in the Winter Garden to talk to friends and family and watch how Normandie makes her way out onto the Atlantic. None of them resembles the men you’re looking for. You continue your way through the ship, eventually finding yourself in the smoking room on the embarkment deck, where you had stepped onto the ship. You had only glanced at the room before, but now when you’re standing in the smoking room — and very well the lounge since they’re connected — you realize how stupid you must have been to miss it. There must be ten meters up to the ceiling, you think, and bigger than a concert hall. A long, grey staircase leads up to the outside deck. The art deco interior is modern and sleek, but the whip overall has a classic, conservative design that reminds you of the great liners of the old age. You sigh while thinking of the Mauretania and the Olympic, Britain's biggest rivals which now are laid up in Jarrowtown, side by side, ready to be scrapped. There’s something melancholy about it all, and at the same time something beautiful, starting as enemies and now ending it all under the same flag, together. 

You shake your head. Focus. Your eyes catch someone standing by the windows, someone very familiar. Silas and his right hand man. You move closer, trying to hear what they’re talking about.

“I’m not complaining, I just think that it is annoying that it has to take four days to get to America”, Silas mutters and takes a whiff off his cigar. 

“Any other ship would take double the time, sir”, his second in command says apologetically. “I doublechecked.”

“I don’t like being in one place for too long.”

“See it as a vacation. You’re deserving of it. Let’s enjoy some good food, alcohol and some company. It’ll do you good.”

“I don’t like to be in one place too long. Especially when we know that they're on board!”

You furrow your brows. Who?

“Nothing will happen.”

Silas hums and smokes again. You’ve stood by the windows a few meters away, pretending to be interested in the horizon. Silas turns his eyes to you. 

“You, sir”, he says, pointing at you with his cigar. 

You look away from the ocean. Both Silas and his second in command have turned to you, their dark eyes looking right at you. 

“Yes?” you ask. 

“Is it true that the Normandie keeps her speed?” Silas asks. “No matter the weather?”

“I believe so, sir.”

Silas nods in satisfaction. “Good.”

You decide to try to get some information out of him. You know who he is, but he doesn’t know who you are, doesn’t know that you’re out to get him. To him, you’re just another first class passenger. 

“Are you in a hurry?” you wonder. 

“You could say that”, Silas sighs and turns his eyes out the window again. 

You hold out your hand. “I’m Axel Ainsworth.”

Silas second in command gives him a short look before his boss shakes your hand. His grip is hard, firm. 

“You can call me Silas”, he says. “No need for a surname.” He takes another blow on the cigar. “What brings you out on the ocean like this?”

“I’ve been on a business trip, but now I’m going home to my fiancé”, you say, pretending to smile at the thought of your made up fiancé.

“What business are you in?”

“Art.”

Silas lifts one of black his eyebrows. “Art?”

His second in command straightens his back. 

“Yes, sir”, you say. 

“Are you a … painter?” Silas wonders. 

“God no, I can’t handle a brush even if my life depended on it. I’m an art trader, I help people sell their paintings for the right price.”

“I see. Well, one can’t do everything.” He blows a cloud of smoke. “Have you traveled on this ship before, Axel?”

“No, it’s my first time. But I’m not unfamiliar with the ocean, I used to travel a lot on the older ships in my younger days.”

“Then I suppose you have a favorite?”

You think for a second. “I did like that Cunarder, the Lusitania … such a shame Germany sunk it.”

“You never know which ships are safe or not, just look at that Titanic fiasco. They thought it was the safest ship afloat. Yeah, sure it was.” Silas shrugs. “Wouldn’t surprise if this peace of junk also sinks. Why wouldn’t it?”

“Well …”

Silas’s second in command taps him on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear. Silas frowns and nods before turning to you. 

“It was nice speaking with you, but I have some business to deal with”, he says shortly. 

“Have a good day”, you say. 

Silas nods politely and leaves. You follow him and his second in command with your eyes until they’ve left the smoking room. He was nicer than you had anticipated. 

Your next suspect, you find in the dining hall that evening. You’ve met up with Hedwig and Jerry in the reception. Hedwig is wearing a pink evening gown with pink gloves. Her honey blonde hair is curled and put up with hairpins. Jerry is wearing a dark purple, sleeveless dress, showing a couple tattoos. In her short, black hair, there’s a little decoration that reminds you of a flower. She's wearing dark lipstick, in contrast to Hedwig who wears a Hollywood red.

“They wouldn’t let me in unless I dressed ladylike”, she mutters. 

“I think that you look gorgeous, Jerry”, Hedwig smiles and takes her hand. 

“I guess that it isn’t that bad.”

“I like your tattoos”, you say. “Where did you get them from?”

“A tattoo artist, of course.” She then twists her arm to show something on the inner side of her bicep. “Okay, I made this one myself.”

You step closer, seeing a small heart tattooed on her arm. 

“That’s cute”, you smile. 

“Thank you”, Jerry smiles smugly. “Hurts like hell though.”

“I can imagine.”

The stewards allow you into the dining room and — for what feels like the thousand time today — you’re amazed by the interior. Silver walls with golden ceiling and art decor wherever you could see. In the middle of the long dining hall, there’s a gigantic, golden statue of a woman. 

Hedwig and Jerry leads you to a table and sit down. That’s when you see your last suspects. They’re walking through the dining hall, dressed in tuxedos. The king can’t be more than twenty years old. His doctor is a minimum of fifteen years older. 

“You son of a bitch”, he says suddenly and looks at the table you’re sitting at. “Hedwig?”

Hedwig’s eyes widen in shock.

“Edmund, what are you doing here?” she asks with a smile. “Sit with us, please.”

The king and his doctor sit down at your table. 

“Good evening”, the blonde doctor says and shakes yours and Jerry's hand before introducing himself. “I’m Doctor Kry.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Axel Ainsworth”, you say. 

“This is king Edmund.”

You’re about to shake his hand, but Doctor Kry removes your hand. 

“I’m sorry, but he doesn’t shake people’s hands”, he whispers. 

“Oh, I see”, you say. 

The king gives you a bored look. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty”, you tell him politely. 

“How do you know Hedwig?” he asks shortly. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“We met today”, Hedwig smiles. “Axel, Edmund is my relative. It’s been months since we last saw each other.”

“I’ve told you to visit.”

“I know.”

“Are you that much of a hypochondriac that you need a doctor to accompany you while you’re traveling?” Jerry chuckles. 

“What are you doing here, Jerry?” Edmund mutters coldly. 

“She’s my chaperone”, Hedwig explains.

“Oh fuck me.”

“Your majesty, maybe you should think about your language”, Doctor Kry says. “We are around others.”

Edmund rolls his eyes before looking at you in a bored manner. 

“Tell me”, he says, “where do you come from, mister Ainsworth?”

You ramble your rehearsed background. Edmund nods along with you.

“I’ve always wanted to visit that place”, Doctor Kry says. “I’ve heard that it is a beautiful city.”

“It is”, you say. 

“And now you’re going to America”, Edmund says. “What were you doing in France?”

“I was on a business trip.”

“What type?”

It strikes you as odd. He doesn’t sound interested, but still he asks you curious questions. 

“I’m in the art business”, you say.

“What for?” Edmund wonders.

“Art is beautiful and should be getting what it is worth.”

“I like art”, Doctor Kry. “I would do anything to see the Mona Lisa.”

“Why didn’t you visit it when you were in France?” Hedwig wonders. 

“We didn’t have time … Edmund didn’t want to go there.”

“Why should I squash together with other people to see paintings?” Edmund scoffs. “If I want to see a painting, I get it for myself. That’s that.”

“But do you like art, your majesty?” you ask. 

“Everyone likes art”, Edmund replies nonchalantly. “That’s what gives life meaning.”

“Have you read a certain story, Edmund, called ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’?” Jerry asks with a teasing smile. “Thought that it’d fit you.”

The story is about a man who wants nothing more than to remain youthful … to the point where he has a painting of himself where all of his sins can be seen. In the end, the picture is as gruesome as can be, but Dorian himself is as youthful as he started.

“Oh, shut up, Jerry”, Edmund mutters angrily. “One day, I’ll teach you manners, believe me.”

Jerry smirks. 

You eat dinner together with the young king and the doctor. Afterward, to soothe your aching stomach, the five of you walk up to the outside promenade deck to get some fresh air. You strut under the lifeboats, under the stars. Above you, a big luminous sign spells out the name 'NORMANDIE’, casting a soft light on you. Doctor Kry has lent his blazer to Hedwig, and you’ve tried to offer yours to Jerry who refused before you had the time to open your mouth.

“Ladies, I think it’s time for you to retreat”, Edmund says, sounding sweeter than before. “It’s starting to get late.”

“The evening is young”, Jerry insists. 

“I’m tired”, Hedwig yawns.  

“Jerry, be a good girl and bring Hedwig to your cabin”, Edmund grits. “Please. I’m not fighting with you again.”

Jerry rolls her eyes, removes the doctor’s blazer and tells you goodnight. Hedwig gives you and Edmund a hug. Her flowery perfume clogs up your nose, dulls your head for a moment. The three of you wish the girls a pleasant evening and continue walking. 

“Hedwig is a stupid girl”, Edmund says, strolling slowly. “One can’t help but want to take care of her.”

“She seems very sweet”, you admit. 

“She is. Just very naive. I’ve promised her father that I’m going to take care of her whenever I meet her.”

“Her chaperone is … interesting”, Doctor Kry remarks. 

“God, yes, I hate her!”

“What is it about her that you don’t like?” you ask curiously. 

“I do not like girls like her. Did you see her tattoos? She often walks around in man’s clothing and I don’t think it’s fitting for a woman — especially someone that is close to my relative. I don’t want her influencing Hedwig.”

“I don’t think you have to worry, your majesty”, Doctor Kry says calmly. “I think Hedwig is going to be okay.”

“If there’s one thing I’m glad for, it is that Hedwig is predictable.” He groans. “I need a cigar. Let’s go to the smoking room.” Edmund turns around to give you a look. “Axel, are you joining?” 

“I don’t know”, you reply. “It’s the first day, I’m still tired from embarking.”

“Don’t tell me that you’re going to bed now.” He looks at his expensive watch. “The clock is ten. Stay one hour.”

You give up and follow them to the smoking room. Maybe it is for the best. If you want to get close to them, you’ll need to spend as much time observing them as you can. 

Sitting with them in the smoking room, you find that Silas and his second in command aren't here among the other men. You frown, thinking that they would be here since they were earlier. 

When you’re allowed to leave, two hours later, your mind is fogged up by smoke and whiskey. You make your way through the empty corridors to your cabin, closing and locking it behind you. Tiredly, you sink down on your bed and sigh out. You have observed them, and talked with them the entire day, and yet you haven’t figured out who could be hiding the painting. They all seem interested in art. They all could have taken it. 

There's so many questions. What kind of doctor is Kry? Where did Jerry come from and why is there no information about her? Why would someone like Hedwig hire her as her chaperone? And who is that person that Silas doesn't want on board? Is there someone you haven't accounted for, someone else that can have stolen the painting?

You hide your face in your hands and groan. Three days left.

DAY 2 — Sea

You wake up early, get ready and head out into the corridor. You lock the cabin door behind you, feeling the handle to make sure that it is locked and make your way to the Winter Garden to have a cup of coffee. The large windows give you a wide view of the calm ocean. The sun rises up from the blue water in a magical sense that has you hypnotized. It's all so very quiet and relaxing.

After your cup of coffee, you stretch your muscles, and contemplate going down to the swimming pool to take a few laps, to warm up your muscles and clear your head for the day's work. You pay the purser and make your way down to the swimming pool on D deck. The tile walls are covered with art that reminds you of ancient Greece and the new, abstract type of paint. The pool itself was formed as a long rectangle with curved corners, green steel ladders, and a steep and a shallow part. Throughout the shallow part, there were thick, dull spikes, likely to stop children from going out into the deep end. 

Despite being the early hours of the first morning on board, someone is already in the water. Doctor Kry.

“Good morning”, he says. “You’re up early.”

“So are you”, you reply.

“I always need to clear my head before starting the day.”

“What about the king? Is he swimming too?”

“Don't kid around. He doesn’t wake up until nine. I wouldn’t be able to get him out of bed before that anyways. He’s a very deep sleeper and hates getting woken up.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. 

“Where do you have your cabin?” you ask. 

“On the promenade deck, one of the suites. A-54.”

Bingo. 

“Why do you ask?” Doctor Kry wonders.

“I was just thinking that since the king doesn't want to be disturbed, choosing the right cabin place is important.”

“Did we choose a good cabin then?”

You nod, despite not knowing a single thing about cabin placements. The only thing you're aware of is to be as far away from the noisy engine room as possible.

Perhaps if you asked the purser, you could get the number of the other cabins. He, if anyone, should have the passenger list. 

You glance back at Doctor Kry who's still hanging by the side of the pool. This is your time to investigate him. You slowly get into the water.

“Such a shame that you didn't get to visit the Mona Lisa”, you say as you start to swim. “It's a very pretty painting.”

“So I've heard”, Doctor Kry says slowly.

“My favorite painting is ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’, have you had the opportunity to see it?”

He's quiet for a second.

“I haven't”, he says, sounding low. “I guess that, an art trader like you, must be troubled by its disappearance.”

“Of course”, you answer.  

At this point, a detective and an art trader don't seem like different things, especially since both would be looking for the same thing.

“Can I ask you something?” you wonder.

“It depends”, Doctor Kry says. “Go ahead.”

“Forgive me for being nosy, but why doesn't his majesty like Jerry?”

“He is very old fashioned. He doesn't think that women should be dressed in pants or have tattoos. Edmund is very self centered, yes, but he's also very possessive of the ones he holds dear — example being miss Hedwig. As you may know, his parents were murdered by enemies to the monarchy and ever since, the only relatives that have been in his life have been Hedwig and her family. They're very close in age too — Hedwig being eighteen and Edmund nineteen — which has been a very important thing for him. He sees her as a friend, maybe his only friend. So having someone that could potentially blemish his friend and only family is a threat to Edmund.”

“Then why does Hedwig have Jerry?”

“I don't know. It could be because of a teenage revolt. Jerry is different to everything that Hedwig has ever known … and now that she's eighteen she might want to try something new.”

“Do you think that Edmund is worried about her? Because of Jerry?”

“I wouldn't say worried, because the only thing the king worries about is himself, but I think that there's something along those lines. I think that he sees Hedwig as an extended part of himself rather than her own person.”

You nod carefully.

“I wonder where Hedwig found Jerry”  you say. “How someone like her could get the job as Hedwig’s chaperone. Do you know where she comes from?”

Doctors Kry suddenly laughs.

“You ask an awful amount of questions this early in the morning”, he says and gets out of the water. “I'm sorry, I don't have more answers for you, Axel.”

You look up at him, where he stands on the tile floor. He looks down at you with a small smirk.

“You remind me of a little boy”, he says and lowers his eyes onto your physic. “You're awfully trained to be an art trader. One could think that you were an Olympian.”

“Shouldn't a doctor be pleased that I am taking care of myself?”

“I am. You look good, healthy.  Just found it humorous.” He wipes away a few drops of water trying to go into his blue eyes. “I suppose that I will see you later. Goodbye, Axel.”

“Goodbye.”

You decide to do a few more laps around the swimming pool before getting up and drying yourself. Tomorrow morning, you will sneak into Edmund’s and Doctor Kry’s cabin to see if the painting is in there. But for now, you need to go to the purser. 

You change into your suit. In the front pocket, you keep a little commonplace book to take notes. You  make your way back to the pursers office. The man behind the desk gives you a service smile and asks how he can help you. 

“Do you happen to have the passenger list?” you ask. “I would like to know where some people’s cabins are located.”

“What is your name?” the purser wonders. 

“Axel Ainsworth.”

“Who are you wanting to find?”

“Hedwig Carter and Silas Achilleos.”

The purser disappears into his office. You wait impatiently, suddenly feeling watched. Carefully, you glance over your shoulder, but the only ones in eyesight are two men who are conversing. The purser returns. You fish out your notebook, ready to note it down. 

“Miss Carter has cabin B-23 and Mister Achilleos has cabin A-11.”

You write it down. “Thank you.”

With that said, you leave to go to the staircase. You’re not sure where to go, so you decide to take a stroll down the enclosed promenade while thinking. Doctor Kry knows more, you think, but he doesn’t want to tell. 

You sit down on one of the deck chairs to write down what you have gotten to know, so that you won’t forget any important information. You write down the suspects' motives to steal the painting, Silas’s weird enemy, their relation to each other — which only connects Edmund, Kry, Jerry and Hedwig — as well as the answers that you have gotten from Doctor Kry earlier today. Who has the painting? Your first instinct says that Doctor Kry doesn’t have it, because he’s not interested in that painting. Had it been the Mona Lisa, things would have been different, but this painting doesn’t interest him. That doesn’t mean that the painting couldn’t be in his room, though, because Edmund could still want to have it. 

You stand up after a while and continue walking. Your eyes fixate on something in the distance. A woman dressed in pants talking to a man in a suit that seems to be hiding in the corner of the promenade. You frown. 

What does Jerry have to do with Silas's second in command? 

You want to move closer, but you don’t want to expose yourself. You’ll have to change the relations in your notes, because there’s clearly something more than you’ve been led to know. 

What if Jerry’s lack of background has something to do with the mafia? It would explain her tattoos … that or being a sailor. But because of what you've just witnessed you can most likely scratch the latter. A shiver runs down your spine. If Jerry is dangerous, then Hedwig could be too. You stop in your tracks. Hedwig? Really? Edmund said it himself, she's a stupid, naive girl. Could she be dangerous?

You walk up to the open deck in the stern of the first class accommodations where you find a few kids playing something reminding you of curling. You sit down on the zig-zag benches placed out on the deck and watch them. They notice you looking and ask you to join them, so you do. You decide that maybe you can pleasure yourself in a harmless children's game for a few minutes, and continue the mission after.

When lunchtime rolls around, you make your way down to the dining hall. It's emptier than yesterday evening. You find Silas and his second in command sit by a table. Silas notices you and waves you over. Your feet bring you to him.

“Sorry to cut our talk short yesterday, Axel”, he says politely and gesticulates at the chair in front of him. “Sit down. Let me buy you lunch.”

And so, he does. You sit down and try your best not to glance at the second in command who’s black eyes burn through you. Your stomach twists. 

You both get lamb, something you have eaten many times before. Still, it tastes better at sea.

“What did you say that you were here for again?” Silas asks suddenly as he’s cutting his meat.

His voice sounds different from yesterday. You clear your throat to make sure that your voice won’t shiver.

“I’ve been on a business trip”, you say. “And now I’m going home.”

“Yes, yes, I know that. What I mean is that you didn’t tell me why you were in France. What kind of business trip was it? What did you do? I know that you were there for art, but what do one do on an art business trip? You have to forgive me for being curious.”

“I was meeting some people from the Louvre.”

“I see. About what?”

“Art’s future, how to make sure they don’t break or smudge or get tainted by the sun. And how to protect them. You must have heard about ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’ missing?”

“Yes, of course. Isn’t it weird that someone would steal that painting? Why not a Monet painting? Or the Mona lisa?”

“I don’t know. Maybe taking one of them would be too big of a deal. Maybe the one taking the painting thought that since it isn’t one of the most cherished, they’d have an easier time taking it … that the commotion about it would die out sooner or later.”

“Perhaps.” 

You’ve noticed that you haven’t heard the second in command’s voice at all, beside the talk he had with Silas yesterday. He doesn’t speak to anyone else than Silas … and Jerry. You still don’t dare look at him, scared that he will see right through you and know that you’ve seen him talk to her. You wonder what they were talking about.

“Did you have a good time yesterday?” Silas asks.

“Yes, I did”, you reply.

“Did you meet someone?”

“No, I didn’t. I chit-chatted with some people here and there, but kept mostly to myself.”

“You do good in that. You never know who you can trust on a big ship as this. You never know who wants you good or not.”

“Why are you traveling, Silas?” you ask innocently. “You said that you were impatient to get to America. Is there a reason?”

“Of course. Everything has a reason. But I don’t think I can share that with you. At least I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Silas turns his black eyes to you and smiles slightly. His hungry gaze makes you freeze. He had seemed so sweet yesterday, but you finally see a slice of what makes him so terrifying. 

“Because someone like you shouldn’t know that”, he smiles. 

“I understand”, you say and take a piece of food into your mouth, to avoid speaking further.

“You have to excuse my man here”, Silas says and nods at his second in command. “He’s the shy type. He goes wherever I go, so you have to get used to him.”

“Is he your bodyguard?” you wonder. 

“You could say that. But I’m always prepared in case someone wants to attack me.”

He opens his blazer, showing you a revolver tucked into the fabric. You have your own in your suitcase. Walking around with it feels too risky, but maybe you’ll have to go get it. In case anything happens.

After lunch, you’re left with a weird feeling in your stomach. You have talked with him for an hour, about everything between heaven and earth … and yet it feels like you have been having two conversations in one — one on the surface and one real. 

You walk to your cabin and press down the door handle and walk into the room. The first thing that strikes you as odd is that there’s a new smell in the air. A flowery scent. You can swear that you have felt it before. Without a second to waste, you open your bag and pick up your gun, putting it in your suit. Quickly, you turn around, realizing something. Didn’t you lock the door when you went out this morning?

That evening, you spend dinner with the two girls and stay in the smoking room with Edmund for what feels like an eternity. Edmund wants to play a deck of cards with you. He seems a bit more relaxed than yesterday and even smiles a bit. 

After your games against Edmund, you decide to retreat. You walk down the long, dimly lit corridor. The narrow spaces feel almost ominous at night time, although barely any daylight reaches here at daytime either. You glance over your shoulder every tenth step, hesitating, can't help but feel watched. Your hand reaches for your gun, but before you have time to get it, someone reaches up behind you and smashes something heavy in your head. Everything turns black.

DAY 3 — SEA

“He's waking up.”

Your eyes feel like lead, and your head is even heavier. It takes a few tries to open your eyes and when you finally manage to, you want nothing more than to close them again. For a few seconds, you wonder if you're dreaming. They're all here, looking down at you. You look around and notice that they've tied your hands and feet, and left you on the floor at the end of the bed, with your back against the footrest.

You catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. Just a bit past one in the morning. The third day has begun. You have been blacked out for three hours.

Your head is pounding, making it hard to think clearly.

Jerry bends down, grabs your chin and turns your head back and forth to inspect the damage caused on your head.

“He'll live”, she says and gives your cheek a quick, but harsh, tap.

“Well, well, Y/N”, Silas says, smirking. “You're a bit nosy aren't you?”

The mention of your name causes you to twitch and widen your eyes. In your dulled stage, you wonder if you've heard wrong, but the smirk in their faces confirm that you have, indeed, not lost your hearing.

“So, you were the agent”, Silas continues and shrugs. “I gotta admit, I was hoping that it wasn't you.”

“You were smart-”, Doctor Kry starts. 

“But not smart enough”, Edmund cuts him off sharply with his arms crossed over his chest. “‘Art dealer’, yeah, sure. A detective dealing with art. That's not the same, Y/N, if you didn't know that.”

Silas picks up something from his pocket, a small commonplace book. 

“‘Suspects are all interested in art, could be any of them’”, he reads out loud. “‘J involved with S? Talked with SIC.’ Jerry? Involved with me? Talked with my second in command? You seem to have it all written down.”

“I was involved with Silas”, Jerry says. “I know his second in command very well.”

“How—How did you … know?” you ask, baffled. “Were you all in on it?”

“Not from the start, no”, Doctor Kry says. “I only knew Edmund and had met Hedwig before. I didn’t even know Jerry, Silas or his second in command.”

You quickly realize that Jerry is the linking chain between them. She linked Hedwig, Edmund and Kry to Silas and his second in command. 

“I had already been informed and knew that there would be someone on this ship out to get me”, Silas says. “I heard that Jerry was on board and caught up with her. She told me that she and Hedwig had met you. It was her that thought it was weird that you asked all of us about art. My men dug, and found out your real identity. My men saw you speaking with the purser, hearing you ask for our cabins and decided to tell it all to me and my second in command, who told Jerry … who told the others.”

“You have more men?” you ask and can’t hide how shocked you get.

“Of course. You don’t think I would go on board with only one man? Do you think I'm stupid, darling? You, on the other hand, probably should have had someone, at least.” 

“Awfully inconsiderate of your bosses, don't you think, to send you all alone?” Jerry says.

“You were looking for this, weren’t you?” Edmund asks and pulls out something from a wooden box behind him. 

You stare at it with wide eyes. The painting.

“Who—Who had it?” you can’t help but question, gulping between the first word. 

“Me, of course”, Edmund says with an offended, yet proud scoff. “It will do nicely in my castle.”

“Now, little Y/N, you know”, Silas says. “Are you happy now? Your mystery is solved.”

Your head hurts too much to answer. You’re not sure if you’re happy. You have learned where the painting disappeared, but you’re tied and hurt, and in the enemies’ grasp. A mixed bag, so to say. 

“I can’t watch the blood”, Hedwig suddenly says and stands up from the armchair she's sitting on. 

She has been the only one that hasn’t smirked at you and seems genuinely apologetic that you're here, but you don't trust that damsel in distress look anymore. She pushes through the others to reach you with a wet handkerchief in her hands. Carefully, she kneels down in front of you and wipes the wet cloth against your forehead. She wipes away the dried blood gently.

“What are you going to do now?” you spit, coming your head to the side. “Throw me overboard?”

“Not exactly”, Silas says, smiling menacingly. 

“Not yet, at least”, Jerry says, grinning.

“If I don't meet my contact in New York, people will know that something has happened to me”, you say coldly. “They'll hunt you down.”

“Oh, will they now? I didn't realize that we had stolen their golden boy.” Silas's cruel smile widens. “Well, Golden Boy, plans seem to have changed.”

You glare at him in confusion. Silas pets your head twice and you hiss at the painful touch. Whatever they hit you with, it must have caused a gigantic bruise.

“Seems like we have to keep you for a while”, he says. “But you will have to stay in here, I’m afraid. You probably understand that we cannot let someone like you wander around the ship.”

You glare at him.

“Do you really think ropes will stop me?” you ask. “I'll be out of here in no time.”

“I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free.” He gives you a testing look before turning to his new companions. “Oh, and one more thing …” He picks up a familiar revolver, spinning it around his hand. “... thank you for the free gun.”

You want to curse at him, but keep quiet for your own sake.

“It's late, the ladies should head to bed”, he says, gesturing for Hedwig and Jerry to leave. “We need to keep someone here to make sure that our little Golden Boy won't free himself and run around, causing trouble.”

“I can take the first shift”, Doctor Kry says and golds up a syringe filled with a translucent liquid.

“Do not harm him, you hear me?” Silas tells him warningly. “I want him alive, coherent and unharmed.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Edmund questions angrily. “In this cabin? Now that I'll have people staring at me?”

“You and Doctor Kry will take Y/N’s cabin”, Silas says.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Stop being so spoiled, your majesty.”

“Won't that be suspicious?” Silas’s second in command questions. “If they see the young king exit and enter someone else's cabin instead of his own?”

“No one knows his cabin”, Silas says as if things were obvious. “Besides, we're in New York tomorrow anyways. It won't be a problem.” He turns to the others. “Scatter.”

The five of them walk out, leaving you and Doctor Kry alone. The doctor sits down in one of the two armchairs in front of you with a long, tired sigh. In his hand, he twirls the syringe.

“What is that?” you mutter.

“Something that will make you go to sleep if you're trying to escape”, Doctor Kry says simply, as if he was talking about watering flowers.

“Why did you hit me in the head if you had that instead?” you ask bitterly.

“Because it wasn't me, it was the second in command and Jerry.”

“Did you lie down in the swimming pool? About not knowing where Jerry came from?”

“No, Y/N, why would I? I told you that I didn't know anything. I didn't get to know until this afternoon.”

“And yet you're quick to jump the wagon to get me killed. I thought doctors were supposed to be nice.”

“I’ve never said that I was nice.”

“What do you gain from this? Why do you want to engage in collusion with people like this? What kind of doctor even are you?”

“Still, with all these questions … look, Y/N, it’s late. You’d do good in trying to get some sleep.”

“On the floor? With my head pounding in pain? With my hands and feet tied?”

“Suit yourself.”

There’s a deadly silence after that. You listen to the sounds the Normandie creates, and somehow wishes that she could save you, but you’re trapped within her, there’s nothing to be done. You rest your head back onto the edge of the footrest and sigh heavily. Doctor Kry looks at his syringe as if it is the most interesting thing he has ever witnessed.

“I'm thirsty”, you say after a while. 

Doctor Kry stands up, walks over to the dressing table where a crystal carafe is waiting and pours you a glass. He returns to you and holds the glass to your lips, making you drink. You gulp it down and breathe heavily. Doctor Kry returns to his armchair. 

You don't know how long you've been sitting on the floor before you start to fall asleep. You thought that you wouldn't, not in this position (figuratively and literally) but you somehow fall asleep. 

“Wakey wakey, Golden Boy.”

You feel someone poke your head to the side multiple times and open your eyes to see Jerry hold a stick in her hand which she's using to poke your head.

“It's morning”, she says.

You groan groggily. She imitates you and chuckles.

“Did you have a pleasant night?” she teases.

You decide not to answer, not to humor her further. Your eyes draft onto a silver tray on the table.

“Yes, that's your breakfast”, Jerry says and lifts the tray, putting it on the floor in front of you before sitting down. 

She picks up a piece of toast and holds it to your mouth. You take a bite, feeling more humiliated than ever. If only you knew that this was where you'd end up when you stepped on board in France.

“We will be in New York tomorrow”, Jerry says, holding the toast to your lips. “And we'll sneak both you and the painting past your contact.”

“It's just a painting”, you say cluelessly. “Why do you all want it so much?”

“I’m not particularly interested in the painting, but I know that Edmund and Hedwig are.”

“Why?”

“Art nerds.”

“Is it even selling for much?”

“It is — if you give it to the right consumer.”

“And you? What do you gain from this?”

“The thing isn’t about what I gain, it is what I lose … in case I let you roam freely. I don’t trust what you will do with the painting or it’s contents. Plus, you know who I am. If you wouldn’t have stuck your nosy head in everything, you wouldn’t have any problem with me.”

You suddenly realize something. 

“Jerry, I need to go to the bathroom”, you say. “I haven’t been to the bathroom since before you knocked me in the head.”

She sighs heavily. “Alright, come here.”

Before pulling you up on your feet, she unties them. You stumble, almost falling on Jerry. 

“Watch it, big boy”, she warns you. “If you knock me down I’m kicking you between your legs until you can’t have children.”

“If you hadn’t tied my feet, I would actually have blood in them. I can’t feel them.”

She unties your hands bitterly. You make your way into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hedwig had wiped away some of the blood, but there were still traces of it in your scalp. You sigh heavily. What should you do? Finally, your hands and feet are free, but you aren’t yet. And — after a quick look around — there’s no way out. The only way out is through the door which Jerry is guarding. 

You could perhaps get out by defeating Jerry, but you have something against fighting women. But, then again, she had knocked you with — what you guess was — a glass bottle. You look around for something that can help you and lay your eyes on a metal bar over the bathtub, used to pull one up. Without a second thought and will all your might, you rip it off. You give it a few squeezes, feeling if it could be strong enough to be used as a weapon and trying to find a comfortable, yet strong, grip. 

You open the door quickly and swing the metal bar towards Jerry. She tries to grab it out of your hands but you push her off and knock her to the ground with the bar. You're not sure how hard you are hitting her, but it's enough force to keep her down. Quickly, you make your way past her and storm out of the cabin, almost crashing into the opposite wall in the corridor. You look around quickly, trying to think of where to go. After what Silas said, that he has more men than just his second in command lurking around, you're not sure who you can be seen by. You need to find an officer. You need to get higher.

Shit, the painting!

Your heart is beating loudly in your chest as you scurry back into the cabin. Jerry is lying on the floor, unconscious, and you almost feel bad for knocking her, but you know that it had to be done. It was her or you. Quickly, you open the wooden box and fish out the painting, tucking it under your arm. You can't hide it in your cabin, not when they know about it. You have to dispose of it somewhere safe.

Every step you take is careful, planned and mortified. You clutch the painting tightly, as if it is life itself.

Moving through the long corridor, you're certain that someone will jump out behind a corner and knock you out, like yesterday. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, almost making you nauseous. You continue through the corridor, over to the hall with the staircases. Your suit has dried blood on it, you look (and feel) manic, will anyone take you seriously?

You freeze as you see a pair of eyes on you. Kry. His blue eyes seem to darken as he notices you, and the painting.

Quickly, you throw yourself into the elevator, and press a random button, wanting the doors to close before Doctor Kry reaches you. And they do, but when you look at the display beside you, you're going the opposite to where you need to go. New plan, you think, I have to sneak into tourist class — or third class, whatever gets you furthest away.

While standing in the elevator, you take a look at the painting to make sure that it hasn’t been damaged in this mess. You turn it around to inspect the canvas and notice something stuck in the corner of the wooden brackets. Carefully, you reach your fingers in and pull out a folded paper. Tucking the painting between your arm and your waist, you unfold the paper to find a list of names and locations … some of which you recognize. They’re all wanted criminals and you guess that the ones you don’t recognize are criminals as well. And the locations …

Your body goes cold and stiff. For a few moments, it feels like the entire world has stopped spinning. This is suddenly more serious than you could ever expect. Quickly, you put the paper in the pocket of your black pants.

You make your way through corridors you haven’t been in before, through doors you’re sure you’re not allowed through. You can’t help but look around at the new environment. Despite being one of Normandie’s lower classes, the attention to detail had been given to every centimeter of the ship. 

Focus!

You’re not sure where you’re going, but you need to find someone that can help you. You consider giving it to a random passenger and ask them to give them to an officer, but in your entire training, you have been told not to pull innocent civilians into your job. They could get seriously hurt and it would be completely your own fault. 

You make your way through tourist class, making sure not to be seen by anyone. If Silas have more people than you thought, why wouldn’t they be in multiple classes? You’re not even sure why the painting have caused this big of a commotion, but there’s no way you can give up the painting now — not after everything you’ve gone through. Your head is still pounding from the glass bottle and your heart beating out of your chest by the sight of Doctor Kry. He knows that you’re roaming freely, and soon, they all will know … and they will look for you. Silas’s words still ring in your ear; “I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free��� — well you surely don’t. But where can one run where the space is limited? It’s not like you can grab a lifeboat and sail your way to safety. The sea can be just as dangerous as the people you’re dealing with. 

You look around for someone in black uniform, desperately wanting to find someone to help you before you get a bullet through your head. Finally, you find a steward carrying a metal tray. Like lightning had struck through you, you barge forward and grab his arm. 

“Sir, you have to help me!” you hiss and pull him into an empty corridor. 

“What are you doing-?” he gasps. 

“Please listen and listen quickly”, you whisper in pure panic. The words fall out of your mouth incoherently, but you somehow manage to create the sentences you need for the steward to listen to you. “I have to get to the Captain! Like … now! It’s really, really urgent! Please, just trust me!”

You look around with wide eyes, heart now pounding in your throat. The steward nods in confusion and signals for you to come with him. You’re not sure why he decides to trust you, but you’re ever so grateful for it. He takes you through hidden passages used for staff so that none of the paying passengers will have to see them, up a couple of steep stairs and through some more doors. You hug the painting tightly against your roaring chest. Every corner makes your heart stop, terrified that someone will stand on the other side and knock you out the second you turn. 

The steward points at a door with a golden sign on it — ‘Officers’ quarters’. You pound on the door until you’re sure your knuckles bleed. A stern looking man in neat uniform opens, giving you a dark look. 

“Who are you?” he questions. “What do you want?”

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m an agent of the crown and this is the missing painting that has been all over the news … you have to keep it secure until we reach New York.”

The officer looks confused as he takes the painting in his hands and lets you into the quarters. 

“You’re bloody, what happened to you, sir?”

“There’s six passengers — Mr Achilleos and his man, His Majesty Edmund of Vesanus, Doctor Karl Kry, Miss Hedwig Carter and Miss Jerry Kim. They knocked me out and kept me in a cabin the entire night. They’re working together. They want this painting …”

… and probably my life by now.

“ … keep it safe”, you beg the officer and feel your voice quiver. “Please. If i can’t meet you at the harbor when we dock tomorrow, please give it to my contact — I will write down his name —  and tell him that he can find further information on board the ship.”

“I will tell the captain about the passengers, they will be taken care of and kept in arrest until we reach land where the police will deal with them”, the officer says.

“Thank you. A lot. Really.”

“You can stay here if you want.”

You feel for the note in your pocket and shake your head. “I have to do something first.”

The officer nodded. On shaky legs, you open the door and walk out into the corridor again. The steward is long gone and you’re alone in an unfamiliar corridor. You suddenly feel exhausted and decide to stay close to the door for a few moments to catch your breath, as if the officers’ quarter was a safe place. 

The note has to be hidden somewhere across the ship so that your contact can find it in case you don’t make it out alive. The note is more important than the painting and can, under no circumstances, go in the wrong hands. These names have to reach your contact. The group will look for the painting in belief that the note is still there, so the note has to be hidden separately so that they won’t find it. 

You make your way through the corridors slowly, making sure not to be caught with the list of names on you. In a weird, panic filled daze, you make your way through corridors, through lounges and dining halls where you hide the note. Underneath a chair, stuck to the corner. You deice to find your way back to the officers’ quarters and somehow find yourself out on deck. The wind is grabbing at you, pulling you left and right. You have a hard time keeping yourself on your feet. No one else is outside and you suspect it has to do with the fact that it’s early in the morning and the dark gray sky above you threat of rain.

“Y/N, don’t move.”

You turn to see the second in command with a gun in his hand.

“If you shoot me you'll ruin your life”, you say to him as confidentially as you can muster, but you can't help but worry if he's going to pull the trigger. 

“Do you think I care?” the second in command questions with a scoff. “I serve my boss until my last breath, I couldn't care less about other trivial matters. Where's the painting?”

“You don't care for the painting. Ask me instead where the note is.”

His eyebrow twitches.

“You know about the note, huh?” he says, eyes narrowing. “Seems like I'll have to get that out of you.”

“Why don't you have your boss do it? Or is he in arrest?”

“Don't worry about him, he always comes out on top. Come with me now or I will shoot you-”

“Shoot me then. The note is hidden and the painting is with trusted people.”

“Idiot. Do you think I was born yesterday? If I shoot you, I can't get the note. You may be stupid, but i dont think youre careless enough To sacrifice yourself for such a trivial thing. Get over here. Now.”

You're unarmed and alone, but if there's one thing you've been taught, it is to not give up without a fight. Your eyes catch onto an officer patrolling the upper deck and whistle. As the second in command takes his eyes off of you, you dive head first into the swimming pool. From his perspective, you don't think — wish — that he sees the man above him. The water wraps around you like a cold blanket and for a few seconds you can't even feel the wetness, only biting cold that almost makes you gasp under the surface. Somewhere, you think that you can hear a gunshot and see something whooshing past you in the water. And then another, and another. And then nothing.

You don't return to the surface until you're sure that the bullet rain has stopped. Your burning lungs gasp for air and you grip the ladder to your left. The second in command has been wrestled down on the deck by the same officer you saw. A smile tugs at your lips as the second in command glares at you from the floor, smashed against the planks.

“Sir, are you alright?” the officer asks, panting.

“I'm okay”, you reply, panting heavier.

An ice cold wind cuts right through you.

“Go inside”, the officer tells you.

“Y/N!” the second in command shouts as you've started to walk. “Don't forget that there are more. You barely know half of the people we have on board. Don't think for a second that you are safe!���

You pretend not to hear him and make your way inside for warmth. Unsure of where to go because of the second in command’s words, you return to the officers’ quarters.

That evening, you make your way down to the arrest. There are still two questions you haven’t gotten an answer to. You've gotten your gun back from a steward and have tucked it in your blazer. Nausea is eating you up from the inside as you walk into the room, watching the cell and its habitants.

“Look who it is”, you hear Jerry snicker. “Change your mind, Golden Boy? Do you want us out?”

You don't even bother to answer.

“The painting is in a safe place, and so are the note”, you say. “I suppose that Jerry, Silas and your second in command wanted the note and not the painting … and Edmund and Hedwig wanted the painting … but what did the Doctor want?”

“Me?” Kry asks coldly and walks over to the bars with his arms crossed. “What I wanted?”

“Yes”, you reply.

“You, of course. Imagine, my own little lab rat that I could do whatever I wanted with … no one would even bat an eye if both you and the painting disappeared.”

“You won't get any of it.” You let your eyes wander over the six people. “Not the painting, not the note, and absolutely not me. Jail is what you will get.”

You can hear Hedwig start to sob in the corner of the cell. She has sunken down along the wall with her head hanging between her knees, body shaking with sobs. Edmund sighs and walks over to her side, grabbing her shoulders and trying to pull her up on her feet.

“Don't cry”, he says quietly. “We won't go to jail, I will make sure of that. I won't allow it.”

“Did you just come down here to revel in our misery?” Silas asks you. 

You're not sure why you came down here. Did you want to make sure to yourself that they were behind bars? Or make you feel more powerful? Or even just get to see them?

“You do know that we will have our revenge, don’t you?” Edmund says and looks at you. “This is not the end.”

“I hope that you like being a dog, because that's what you're going to be, leash and all”, Silas scoffs.

“Tattooed”, Jerry adds on with a tilted smile. “Marked. Would Golden boy like that?”

You ignore her, and walk over to the cells bars, eyes glued onto Hedwig. 

“What were you doing in my cabin?” you ask. 

She freezes, looking cluelessly at you through her teary eyes.

“What?” she asks in shock. 

“Your perfume was all over my cabin”, you say coldly. “Why were you in my cabin?”

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N!” she cries and runs over to the bars, reaching out for you. 

You back away.

“I’m sorry, I-I … I looked through your things. I couldn’t help it, I just … I really, really wanted to hold you. I didn’t take anything, I promise! Please believe me, Y/N, I just wanted to- … it doesn’t matter. Forgive me.”

You don’t answer. Maybe Hedwig isn’t as sweet and innocent as you thought. 

DAY 4 — End of voyage

After your hell night last night you couldn't be more grateful for the somewhat pleasant night you had. Every single sound and movement woke you up, preparing you to see one of the six criminals or their acquaintances. And since a ship is in constant movement and makes sounds only God knows about, you barely slept for an hour straight. But at least you were in a warm bed.

You can't eat anything during breakfast. You stare at the sandwich and steaming coffee in front of you with a twisted stomach. The room is filled with passengers, like normal, but the bright room can’t be more dark and sinister. It is as if someone has drained it of color. Any of the smiling guests can be one that want to put a bullet through your skull, and is waiting for you to rise from your chair and follow you outside.

When a waiter comes over to your table, the coffee has stopped steaming. 

“Good morning, sir”, he says politely and places a silver tray with a silver cloche on your table. 

“What is this?” you ask in confusion. 

“A gentleman told me to give this to you. He has paid for it and everything.”

With that said, he smiles and walks away to continue his job. You glance down at the dome looking metal and feel your heart sink. Although you don’t want to, your heart reaches out to pull it away and reveal whatever is lying on the silver tray underneath. You’re not sure what you are expecting but a small, folded paper is certainly not it. As if on autopilot, you open the paper to see only a line. 

“We will be waiting for you when we dock, you won’t get past us. We are watching you.”

You were right. A knot appears in your throat. Your legs go numb. You will be killed. 

The air is hard to breathe in and you have to get out before you suffocate. You get out on the deck with the lifeboats hanging above your head and lean against the railing. In a few hours, Normandie would dock and you would be caught. You’re not sure that the steward who had helped you before would be able to save you, and you don’t want to put him in more danger … but you can’t step off the ship in New York’s harbor. The lifeboat above your head gives you an idea. A stupid, right out ridiculous idea … 

You look around you before your shaking hands release the lifeboat from its holds. You have been taught the most outrageous things to rescue yourself — including lowering an ocean liner’s lifeboat. The davits slowly bring the lifeboat downwards and you climb in, lying down to avoid being seen. Your body trembles with fear, unsure of what this will bring you … or where it will bring you. 

There's nothing on the ship that you should bring with you. There's no guarantee that the lifeboat will reach the harbor safely, but its a try. The painting will be more secure with the steward. 

You feel a ‘thump’ from when the lifeboat hits the waves underneath you. You see how Normandie towers above you, the black steel never seeming to end. A pair of heads stick out from the side and something hits the water beside you. Quickly, you cover your body with your arms and legs, curling up until all vital organs are covered. Hitting you with bullets on this distance are harder than one can think, but not impossible. The second you’re sure that they can’t reach you, you get up and start to paddle. If the men tell a steward about the missing lifeboat, they’ll steer their ship over here to get you. 

Your arms quickly grow sore. From now on, you’re entirely alone. There’s no one to save you in case anything happens and you will have to find your way to land by yourself. But it's better than being on board the ship.

The sea around you feels abnormally calm. There’s no distinctive sounds apart from the waves hitting the side of the lifeboat. 

You sit for a moment, taking the time to think. This case has been different from all the others you have done. More personal than you could ever have anticipated. You’re not sure why, but something with this case told you that things wouldn’t be over if they got their way. It was more than just materia, they want you too … to use as they please. Doctor Kry was right. Who would bat an eye if you disappeared along with the painting? They wouldn’t call it a kidnapping, it would be a disappearance that could be explained by the painting. And now they have none of it. Not the painting, not the list of criminals and not you. Pretty successful, you think. Maybe you succeeded this mission after all? 

You hiss as you touch your sensitive head. You’ll have to find a doctor in New York.

Hours go by. You row, you rest, row, rest, row, rest. Throw up. Damn if you have gotten a concussion, you think, but it’s probably just the sea air making you nauseous. 

How things had turned out. You thought that you would have had to deal with one or two criminals … not six. Ad how Silas had seen right through you … 

It’s over now. It will be over soon. Is it over?

You continue to row. 

in the distance, you see a fishing ship pulling up their net and you wave with your arms in hope for them to see you, which they inevitably do. Your exhausted, cold body is picked up and wrapped in an old blanket. 

“What were you doing out in a lifeboat like that?” one of the old sailors asks. “Which ship has sunk?”

“It’s the Normandie!” another one says as he reads the name on the wooden planks. “Has the Normandie sunk?!”

You tell them that it hasn’t suck — in fact, it’s steaming on better ad stronger than ever — but that an accident had happened, which resulted in you all alone in a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean. 

They give you a yellow rain coat that you use to hide in and join the sailors to New York’s harbor that evening. In the distance, you see the different ocean liner piers. Cunard-White Star Line, United States Lines, HAPAG, Italian Lines, Swedish-American Lines … and finally, Compagnie Générale Transatlantique. Normandie was towering above all the other liners and you stood there on the pier, looking at it. Four days ago, you had been standing in the harbor at Le Havre and been excited to step on board. But now, that you are looking at it from afar, in the dim lights, there’s something unsettling about the her. It looks like she’s apologizing to you for everything that she allowed to happen between her walls. You almost start to cry. 

You turn around and walk without giving the ship one more glance, hoping that it will be the last time you get to see the Normandie. 

You meet up with your contact in a small warehouse that following morning and tell him what you have hidden on the ship. He promises to retrieve it. He already has the painting and has secured it, had gotten it from the very steward you had left it with. 

“I have something else too”, he says and gives you an apologetic look. 

“What?” you ask and watch him closely as he takes out a paper from his pocket. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You open the paper and feel your blood go icy cold. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the nickname you see written in black …

“Thought you could lock us in? Think twice, Golden boy, we’re already out. We’ll find you, be so sure of that. Don’t think that we will let you slip away. You will look good in a leash.

S.A”

You fold the paper just as quick and breathe out a shaky breath. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N, you will be protected”, your contact promises. “It will not be any problem, I assure you.”

With the six people’s contacts and power, you doubt that your protection will do much, but you nod. The painting is safe and the note is safe. They may have escaped jail and are looking for you, but you succeeded with your mission. And that is all that matters.

[markrosewater]

Hey there

Been scrolling back and seeing a lot of negativity about the UB standard stuff. I know you know all this from your data anyway, but just wanted to pipe up personally with the comment that: I'm one of the folks who got into magic because of Universes Beyond. I play Commander, because the Doctor Who decks were for commander. If they'd been for standard, or any of the other formats (which I won't claim to fully understand), I would have got into those instead.

I'm also a full convert. I looked back, found Ixalan, and adored it (and was very sad I was too late to find Veloci-Ramp-Tor at anything other than reseller rates). Read the lore, and got real sad at how they massacred my boi Etali. Saw bloomburrow coming out, and adored the new sets, and now I'm hooked on in-universe Magic stuff too.

Negativity there may be, but also me and I'm sure so many like me who found magic and leapt in like a baby seal's first swim, it genuinely is a fantastic pipeline and I'm glad I discovered this game through it!

Thanks for sharing.

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Weeping Angel by Anato Finnstark

[sweetbunpura]

Take what you can. Give nothing back...

I was looking at Jack Sparrow quotes (I love POTC 1-3~) and I can't help the idea of Yuu saying the quotes....but in a Pirate AU.

Yuu's been an absolute menace on the seas, out of the Eight Sovereigns of the ocean, she is the one the government can't keep tabs on. They hope to weed her out somehow, learning that Yuu rescues anyone stranded or people needing help from an sinking ship. The leaders of the government think of an idea and if it means sacrificing one of their own....they'll do it.

They command Rollo, one of the new captains, to try and find Yuu who will no doubt lead them to the rest of the Sovereigns. But unknown to Rollo, they load up his ship with explosives. While they're docked in the ocean for the night, the explosives go off, sending the ship and it's crew members into the ocean. Ramshackle, Yuu's flagship, comes to their aid as their lookout had seen the explosion.

Sadly, Rollo's the only survivor as the crew pulls him aboard, he passes out before he has a chance to see Captain Homura. He wakes up the next day in the infirmary, startles their doctor as he stumbles his way out onto deck to see he's been taken "prisoner" by the pirates.

While the crew watches him, some faces Rollo's seen in the bounty pictures: Ace and Deuce from the Heartslabyul, Jack from the Savanclaw, Floyd from the Octavinelle, Epel from the Pomefiore, Ortho from the Ignihyde, and Sebek from the Diasomnia. There where three people he was unware of watching him from the mast. A ginger haired man with fox ears and tail, a tall man with white hair and black shades, and a young boy with cat ears and tail.

Before he could say anything, footsteps are heard behind him.

"Finally up are we?"

It was Captain Homura.

[licorice-tea]

Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet) Pt. 3

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: reader wears a bathing suit (bikini top, shirtless, etc not specified!!!), a tiny amount of cursing, jealousy, a little hurt/comfort, gn reader, strawhat reader

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: hey guys! sorry i’ve been sort of MIA for a few days, just got really busy and things. but, i finally had the time and energy to write today! law wants the reader so bad if you can’t tell… but he’s like waiting bc he’s unsure of how to the whole relationship, but like he’s learning!!! and they’re growing together!! so i hope you enjoy <3 (comment to be tagged in future parts!!!)

Part 2

It’s not uncommon for people to fall overboard on the Thousand Sunny. And by people, you mean Luffy, Chopper, and Brook. How was it that three out of the five devil fruit users currently on board were so clumsy? You weren’t quite sure, but it was something all the crew was accustomed to and therefore knew to watch out for.

On this occasion, it’s a Chopper who’s managed to be knocked into the sea below.

“Chopper, watch out!” Zoro calls to the young doctor, but it’s too late. He’s hit head on by a wooden plank under Franky’s arm. As the cyborg spins around in turning directions, he knocks the poor reindeer overboard.

“Shit! Quick, somebody go get him!” Nami commands.

You’re already stripping off your shirt and shoes (you’re wearing a bathing suit underneath, of course) as you run to the side of the ship. “On it!” The entire crew follows after you while Chopper is still falling, not even in the water yet. Your hands are on the railing ready to jump over, when you hear; “Room, Shambles” along with the sudden absence of Chopper’s scream. Sanji holds you back at the last second and helps you back down to the deck when you all realize; he’s back on the deck. The rest of your friends rush back to the center of the deck, where Chopper seems to be safe and sound. He clings on to his savior, Law’s leg, gasping and still catching his breath after his brush with death.

You and Sanji run to join the others, who are surrounding the youngest crewmates with hugs and crying. (You’re a very emotional group of people, after all.) Meanwhile, Law stands with his arms crossed off to the side. You run to him, instead, wrapping your arms around his neck in a brief hug.

“Thank you, Law.”

You could swear that you see a smile pass over his features before he coughs and shakes his head. “Don’t mention it.”

Laws hands remain on your hips after you’ve pulled back, and yours are still resting on his shoulders. You smile at him, and he wants nothing more than to just take your jaw in his hand and kiss you. The skin to skin contact from you being stripped down to your swimwear, and him shirtless as per usual, causes his cheeks and ears to flush a rosy hue.

Unfortunately, your rare, tender moment is disrupted by a low whistle, followed by teasing remarks and laughter. How could he have forgotten that your crew- your very obnoxious, childish, silly crew- is standing just feet away? Sure, you might not mind being so openly affectionate around them, but he does! So, with extreme awkwardness, he releases you and steps backwards.

*Ahem… I, uh…”

“They’re only, teasing, Law.” You laugh along with your friends.

He watches as you bound away from him and into the arms of your crewmates, playfully pushing them away as they sing some ridiculous song; “Law and y/n, sitting in a tree…” Even though you’re telling them off, he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how naturally you fit in with all of them. How easily they make you smile and laugh- had you ever looked so happy in front of him? The whole ordeal makes him feel self conscious. “I could never make you as happy as your crew does,” he thinks. “And you would never leave them for me.”

That’s enough for him to storm off, too annoyed to even wave “bye.” Of course, you take notice of this. Surrounded by people a thousand times more boisterous than him, your eyes still remain drawn to his figure. You excuse yourself from the others and follow Law, calling after him.

“Law! Wait up!”

There’s evident surprise in his expression when he turns back. He pauses for you to catch up with him in a narrow corridor below deck, while you slip your shirt back over your head. “What is it?”

You quirk a brow- his tone is colder than it usually is (with you, at least.) Had the jokes from your fellow Strawhats really bothered him so much? “Uh… nothing, I just want to go with you.”

He hums and continues walking. “I’m not doing anything very fun. Just going to study.”

With a shrug, you continue following him. “Then I’ll catch up on my reading, too.”

When Law stops suddenly and turns to face you once more, you nearly bump into his chest. “You don’t have to coddle me, y/n.”

“…What?”

“Go have fun with your friends, I’m fine.”

“What are you talking about? They were just kidding about us, Law, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“That-That’s not what I’m talking about! You don’t have to follow me around and pretend like you enjoy being around me when it’s so obvious how much you love being with your crew.”

“Is that why you’re upset? You’re jealous because I love my crew?”

“I’m not jealous, I just don’t like being pitied.”

“I don’t pity you, Law. We’re friends- isn’t that a good enough reason to want to be around you?”

“I don’t believe you.”

You scoff. Sometimes, you forget how sensitive his ego is. “Well, it’s true.”

“Don’t lie to-“

“I’m not lying! God, why is it so hard to believe that I enjoy being with you? That I like you?”

He goes silent, and you stare at each other- both with fierce determination in your eyes.

“I know that you don’t always get along with them… and you’re different from them, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, you know.”

“Well, you look really happy with them.”

“I’m happy with you, too.”

At that moment, Sanji rings the lunch bell, and Luffy and Usopp dash through the hall between you and Law. Usopp shouts, “Out of the way, lovebirds!” and you can’t help but giggle despite being in the midst of some sort of argument.

Law nods in their direction. “Go have fun.”

But, before he can walk away, you grab his hand. “Not without you.”

He would scowl if he weren’t so caught off guard by the feeling of your hand around his. With some grumbled reply, he complies, and trails after you all the way to the kitchen/dining room for lunch.

When you walk in and take your seat at the table, food is already being served. Law is right behind you (as he often is nowadays), so nobody pays the two of you much mind for being a little late. Sanji finishes serving everyone their plates, and the chatter begins to flow naturally once you’ve all taken the first bites of his delicious food. Law loosens up a little after a few minutes- it’s hard to stay angry when you eat Sanji’s food, after all. He makes a comment under his breath, hoping to clear the air between the two of you.

“This is nice.” You think he’s stating the obvious- Sanji’s food is always nice- as some cheap shot at an apology for his standoffish behavior. Then he adds, “Good food, too.” Law hopes that you’ll understand what he’s trying to say; “I don’t hate your friends, and I’m going to be better at getting along with them, for you.”

Luckily, your ability to read between the lines makes up for the lack of clarity in his apology. It still brings a bright smile to your face though, which grows into a grin after you reply. “It is, isn’t it?”

He simply smiles back at you and nods, a weight taken off his shoulders at the assurance you’re no longer at odds with him.

Robin takes notice of the quiet exchange, and decided to poke fun in her usual eerily-observant way; “You seem to be adept at making y/n smile, Law.”

Nami agrees, and adds on to the teasing; “Awww look! They have hearts in their eyes!”

Law’s cheeks flush as you launch into animated banter with Nami, but he still smiles to himself as he eats. Maybe it’s not so bad, learning to fit into your life alongside your crew family. The archeologist and navigator are right that you do seem especially happy around him, he had just been too preoccupied with how that happiness compares to the way you are with them. Still, it seems they had all taken notice of the increasingly obvious affection growing between the two of you. So, Law would learn to be more accommodating of your people- and to be less jealous (not that he ever was jealous, that’s just silly), rather than force you to favor one or the other.

After all, they were rooting for his relationship with you just as much as he was.

[kinglivv]

Leaving Her

Kate Stewart x g!n reader

Summary: When you and Kate’s relationship gets rocky, you run away with the Doctor. Four months later, your run in with the Toymaker forces you to confront each other.

Warnings: None

A/N: because not enough attention is paid to the fact that kate uses guns now ALL the time

You find her outside, smoking.

“I thought you’d quit.” You state.

“Yeah well,” she taps away the ash, “we all have our vices.”

You don’t really want to be out here on the helipad with Kate. It’s raining for one, and you’d been managing quite successfully to avoid being left alone with her. However, as the adrenaline of day wore off, you found yourself in desperate need to get out of the command room. The walls were closing in and you hadn’t breathed fresh air in 12 hours.

And there she is.

She’s a vision against the London skyline, blonde hair still somehow perfectly neat and brown eyes still longing, threatening to draw you in.

You remind yourself that you hate her.

You stand next to her for a few silent moments, leaving a healthy distance between you as you regard the view over London.

“You didn’t visit,” she says suddenly.

“Why would I?”

“I just thought…” Kate shakes her head, refusing to look and you and taking another puff. She waves a hand exasperatedly, “It was like you were there one day and gone the next.”

“There was a bit more build up to it than that and you bloody well know it,” you snort. “Late at the office every night. Cancelling our anniversary trip. Forgetting my birthday. It may as well been you who upped and disappeared.”

“You’ve seen my work here. You think I can just abandon it?” she snaps, waving to the building behind. The wind whips around you and her words are carried away.

“You have a second in command, Kate,” you snap back, “You’re allowed to delegate. Have an actual life outside your job.” You want to smack your head against a wall. Months apart and here you were, back again having the same argument you’d had a million times before.

“You knew this wasn’t a normal nine to five when you got with me.”

“Yeah but you changed, Kate,” you almost yell. “Look at you. Where’s the woman who used to take me out to dinner every Friday? Where’s the woman who used to drive me out to the countryside to stargaze? You’re a workaholic.”

“You don’t get to come in here and lecture me after running away with her for the last four months.” She spits.

And there it is. Laid bare. How nights sleeping on the sofa, endless arguments and weeks worrying she was having an affair had culminated in you taking up the Doctor’s invite to travel with her. It was her smile, her humour, her energy, her short blonde hair and brown eyes. If you squinted, the Doctor could be anyone you wanted her to be. You’d packed a bag and left not only your Kate but your planet. It felt like no where was far away enough.

And now the Doctor had regenerated, replaced by someone you didn’t quite recognise anymore, and that had only given you more time to think about all you’d left behind.

“The divorce papers arrived, by the way.” she breaks the silence, “Do you want me to sign them?”

That’s another punch to the gut. Distantly, it strikes you that you haven’t been home in so long that you hadn’t checked your mail. You opt not to answer her.

Neither of you say anything for a moment. Voices carry over from inside the command deck, presumably Ibrahim issuing clean-up orders or the Doctor catching up with his old friends. You shiver in the cold of the helipad. Horns honk in the streets below.

“Since when did you use guns?” You ask quietly, because the silence is agony.

It was something that had been bugging you the minute you got off the TARDIS. Kate Lethbridge Stewart, the woman who was supposed to be reforming UNIT, leading with science and not weapons, had been so eager to whip out a side piece the minute there had been any hint of danger. You’d flinched when she’d so breezily ordered her men to open fire, as if it were a well-rehearsed, familiar line. The woman you’d married had abhorred violence.

Her cigarette struggles in the rain, and she curses under her breath, pulling out her lighter. You watch her, really watch her for the first time that day. You notice the deeper crow lines around her eyes, the hair that isn’t as cropped as she usually preferred it.

“It’s practical,” she eventually offers as explanation.

“I seem to remember you saying you dragged UNIT kicking and screaming to get them to put down their guns.”

“UNIT is a military operation. We’ve always used guns.”

“Yeah but I mean you, Kate.” You reply, “That handgun is new.” You glance at it holstered on her hip.

She shifts self-consciously, shrugging so that her blazer falls over it, obscuring it from your view. It’s a nice blazer. New you think, and it suits her very well. You blink, trying not to get distracted by her figure or that strong hand clutching the cigarette.

“The Colonel and I thought it would be wise for me to carry one after the Cyberman siege on our old office.”

“The one you blew up?”

“Yes,” she laughs bitterly.

“Why now?” You argue, “You’ve seen off the Zygons, the Master, Sontarons. Why start carrying a weapon now?”

She twists her wedding ring. She’s still wearing it you realise, and you look down at your naked fingers in unexpected guilt.

“They tried to convert me,” she confesses. “They were this close to managing it and I only just got away. Had me tied to the chair and everything.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You stare at her, this women who you knew inside and out, who you had dedicated the last three years of your life to. This woman who had seen you cry and laugh. This woman who held you in bed at night and this woman who you had run from. You want to reach out to her, to promise her she’s safe.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask instead.

“Didn’t know how,” she shrugs. “Kind of worst case scenario, isn’t it? Nothing compares to a cyberman.”

You silently agree with her. Of all the monsters in the universe you’d come across, none could strike fear into you quite like the metallic, robotic Cybermen could. There was nothing more violating than the prospect of having your emotions stripped away and your body turned into fodder.

“I think I started working longer to stop thinking about it,” she adds. “I mean, there was the big clean-up operation afterwards which took a lot of time, and after that I just found it easier to not stop.”

Shame floods your body. All this time she’d been hurting and you’d abandoned her. You can’t help yourself, you slide an arm around her waist, and then another, pressing your front to her back and burying your face into her shoulder. She still fits in your embrace perfectly, and her hand - the one that isn’t clutching the fag like a rubber ring - cautiously reaches to cover yours.

“I’m sorry Kate,” you murmur. “I should’ve known. I shouldn’t have left you.”

“No,” you feel her shake her head, “God I hate you for it but leaving me forced me look at things. I haven’t been good to you. I am a workaholic. And somewhere along the line I stopped being a wife.”

You blink back tears and press a kiss to her jaw.

“Don’t sign the papers,” you whisper.

[arcane-vagabond]

It’s been a while since I’ve pestered you for a good ole fashioned Jake POV, but I HAVE to know what happened when he found Guppy asleep on deck and carried her to her room 👀

(Does Bradley see????? Does Nat????? Does anyone?????)

Your wish is my command, my love! Note to everyone, this drabble takes place in the middle of Chapter Five!

Word Count: 1,056

Jake was frustrated. Frustrated that he lost another three crew members to expired contracts. Frustrated that he hadn't managed to get replacements for the last crew members who left. It was a wonder that there were enough men on the ship to keep it running at all at this point.

He ran a hand through his hair as he trudged up the gangway, coming to a stop at the top at the sight before him.

You were slumped across a barrel, barely hanging on as your body draped across the one beneath you. Your cheek was smashed against your forearm, and it was clear that you had fallen asleep while waiting for someone. Your brother, no doubt.

Jake pursed his lips at the sight of you, mind already racing with the number of things that could have happened had it been anyone but him to have found you like this. He'd scold you later for your carelessness, but for now, he needed to get you to the safety of your bed. His boots sounded against the wood of the deck as he came up to stand beside you, heart softening at how peaceful you looked.

Your lashes fluttered against the apples of your cheeks, eyes darting beneath your lids as you dreamed. Your chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, hums leaving your lips every few seconds as you talked in your dream.

Jake's skin itched as it always did, but as he moved to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the sense of relief that overwhelmed him nearly brought him to his knees before you.

"You really should have a talk with her about everything."

Jake turned to see Javy leaning against the railing of the stairs leading to the upper deck, his usual stoic expression still firmly in place. The blond let out a tired sigh as he cradled your face gently against his palm.

"She went to see a physician today," Javy continued, and Jake looked up at him in concern. Javy shook his head. "For that brother of hers. She thinks he's sick."

"No doctor can cure what ails us," Jake noted, thumb stroking the smooth skin of your cheek. He'd stay like this forever if it meant he'd know peace.

"Right," Javy drawled, and though Jake wasn't looking at his best friend and first mate, he knew the man was rolling his eyes. "And she doesn't know that, so you need to tell her before she does something more drastic and foolhardy."

"She's a sprightly, little thing, isn't she?" Jake said, smiling at you fondly as you stirred in your sleep.

"Jake," Javy sighed, frustration evident in his voice, and Jake looked up to see him pinching the bridge of his nose. "She needs to know what kind of danger she's in. She needs to know that there are men aboard this ship that might hurt her because of the effect she has on all of us. She needs to keep her guard up so that she doesn't fall asleep out in the open. What's going to happen if one of us isn't here to watch her next time?"

"I know," Jake snapped, shooting a glare at the other man, jaw clenched so tightly, it was a wonder his teeth didn't crack. Sighing, he shot his friend an apologetic look. "I know."

"I'm not telling you this as your first mate, Jake," Javy said, and to anyone else, it would have looked like he was devoid of emotion, but to those that knew him well - like Jake - the worry was clear on his face. "I'm telling you this as your oldest and best friend. This could end badly if you aren't careful. The curse is already driving some men mad, driving them to do things they normally wouldn't. Having her here could be dangerous, mutinous even."

Jake sighed once more, nodding silently as he scooped you up in his arms. Your head fell against his chest, and you nuzzled your nose into him, sighing contentedly in your sleep, and Jake felt his heart constrict.

He'd be the first to admit that he'd always been the bed them and leave them type. Of course, that's how he landed himself in this mess to begin with. But, seeing you in his arms made him entertain the foolhardy notion that maybe he could allow himself to feel something for someone, that maybe he could even learn to love that person. Of course, he dared not go further with that thought, knowing that he was straying into dangerous waters when it came to the strong feelings he already held for you in his heart.

He began to walk towards the cabins, determined to make sure you were tucked away so that no one could see you. For your safety or his jealousy, he wasn't sure. Javy stopped him with a hand to his shoulder, and Jake peered at him from the corner of his eye with an arched brow.

"We need to find the treasure," Javy implored, dark eyes boring into him. "We need to lift this curse."

Jake said nothing. What was there to say? They already had the Soul of Polaris, and that was the greatest treasure that Jake could think of. A gem that held the soul of the north star itself, calming raging seas and guiding men to what they need most. Jake hadn't looked at it since Phoenix had brought it straight to him, a proud smile on her face at what all assumed was the price of their freedom. Jake kept the gem on him at all times, tucked away in his breast pocket.

Javy let his hand fall from Jake's shoulder without another word. Jake shifted you in his arms, heart melting as your fingers gripped his shirt and you muttered in protest, settling back down as he shushed you. Jake felt a sense of dread at telling you all the details of the curse, couldn't bear the thought of you realizing that he was not, in fact, a good man. The reason for Davy Jones's anger filled Jake with a sense of shame he had not felt once in the past six years, not until he looked at you.

He'd talk to you. He'd tell you only what you needed to know.

[jasper-pagan-witch]

The Modal Commander Servitor

An approach to a Magic: The Gathering servitor subtype. This is one of my UPG-filled personal projects.

There are many approaches to making a servitor. There are ways to advance that servitor straight to thoughtform. There are even ways to make an egregore with other magic practitioners. So that’s not what this post is about, though I will leave resources at the bottom for that [1]. This post is about using pop culture in tandem with magic to make a servitor even more powerful. I’m warning you now, we get well into the mechanical weeds of Magic: The Gathering in this one.

The thought came to me a while back in a Discord server with some magic-practicing pals. I got the idea to use my Magic: The Gathering Commander decks as modal spells (more on this term later), which then turned into ideas for making them servitors. To quote myself,

But more to the point, the idea of a Commander deck is that you have a central Guy in charge of particular Things and you typically build the deck around that, so why not treat the central Guy as a servitor empowered by the tools built into the deck (in the form of supporting cards) to accomplish a goal, and it’s empowered every time you play the deck. It’s basically outsourcing magic bullshit to eldritch monsters from between the planes, a toddler cactus person, several pirates, the gods’ most unfortunate bisexual, and a lawyer.

And then I put the idea aside for a while. Summer, my fallow period, happened. But when I came back to my practice near the start of autumn, I found myself revisiting servitor/thoughtform ideas, which prompted me to return to my old notes on Modal Commander Servitors, the Hireling Sliver Hivemind Linking Sigil System (SHILLS), and Echo Summoning. We’ll only be focusing on the first in this post.

But let’s start at the beginning. The crux of this servitor is that it is the Commander of your Commander deck, so let’s talk about the Commander format.

The Commander format (as officially known by Wizards of the Coast aka WOTC) is also called Elder Dragon Highlander or EDH. It is a casual multiplayer format with a competitive form known as cEDH. You have a deck that is 100 cards strong, and with the exception of basic lands, you can only have one copy of a card in your deck. Commander is centered around a Legendary Creature (or, more rarely, a Planeswalker) who exists in the “command zone” separate from the main deck but that still counts towards that 100-card limit. Under certain circumstances, you can have two Commanders (such as with the Partner, Partner With, Friends Forever, Choose a Background/Background, or Doctor’s Companion mechanics). You start at 40 life, and if you end up at or below 0 life, or you take 21 points of Commander damage from a single Commander, you lose the game. Your deck’s available colors are restricted only to your Commander’s color identity – every color that appears in their card, not just the ones in their initial mana cost. [2]

There’s a lot more to it than that, but for the purposes of this post, we’ll be focusing on your Commander itself rather than its format.

Depending on your approach to pop culture entities (PCEs), you may already see them as faces of existing entities (such as Karametra being a face for Demeter) or as embodiments of archetypes (such as Bertram Graywater embodying the “corrupt lawman” of the Western genre). However, these are far from the only approaches. My personal approach is “everything is already so goddamn weird, so why wouldn’t they exist”. Luckily, when creating a servitor, we’re not drawing on an existing PCE. Instead, we’re forming our energy into the shape (and sometimes personality) of one!

In the meta sense, a player of Magic: The Gathering is a planeswalker (a mortal with a spark in their soul that allows them to travel to other planes and access the magic of other planes even if they aren’t there), battles with other players are duels with other planeswalkers, and their deck represents their allies – other planeswalkers they can call in favors for aid with, creatures and allies they can summon for help, and spells and other resources they have at their disposal. [3] Therefore, your Commander is your greatest ally who can help you in this duel, one whom you can keep resummoning easier than others (as seen by the command zone being a separate zone from the graveyard). The crux of this format, in a meta sense, is that your Commander wants to help you. So why not make it into a servitor, a type of energyform, so it can help you for more than merely games?

Okay, so we’ve covered the Commander, and you presumably already read up on servitors and thoughtforms recently. But what about that other word, modal? Modal is an MTG mechanic that gives you the choice of two or more effects of a spell or ability when it’s cast or otherwise put on the stack. Modes are the different effects you may choose on a modal spell or ability. There are keywords that add onto it (escalate, entwine, and spree) that allow you to pick more or all of the options at once. [4] If you’re worried about what “the stack” is, don’t, it’s not actually relevant for what we’re doing with this servitor. Not even MTG players understand the stack. The point is, modal means options, and the only thing better than good stuff is options for good stuff.

So let’s put all of these definitions and mechanics together. A Modal Commander Servitor is an energyform stored in a Legendary Creature (or Planeswalker) card in charge of a Commander deck who uses the cards and resources in the deck (or otherwise given to them) in order to adapt to whatever you need it to do. They’re created like normal servitors and can draw on the same energy sources as normal servitors, but they can also draw power from the lands in their Commander deck. They can be empowered by both magical and in-game usage. The deck theme and archetype (such as an Otter Typal deck for Bria, Riptide Rogue or a Ninjutsu Theme deck for Yuriko, the Tiger’s Shadow [5]) also tie into and empower the Commander as both a Commander and a servitor. Sure, you can build a deck completely divorced from its Commander, but you’re kneecapping yourself and your Commander by doing so.

Let’s circle back to the Partner mechanic. It appears in multiple forms – Partner, Partner With, Friends Forever, Choose a Background and Background, and Doctor’s Companion. These abilities give you the ability to have two Commanders for your deck, with caveats.

Let’s start with Partner, the broadest form of this mechanic. Any Commander with Partner can team up with any other Commander with Partner. While most are monocolored (and there’s a colorless one that you get to choose the color of), there’s also quite a few that are dual-colored, meaning that your deck can have up to four colors with two Commanders. Of course, you could absolutely use two Partner Commanders with the same color identity to make a monocolored deck. There are definitely benefits to that approach, depending on which Commanders you choose. (Cough, Akroma, Vision of Ixidor partnered with literally anyone.)

“Partner With” is similar, but it restricts you to premade pairings. This was seen in the Battlebond set, the Ikoria: Lair of Behemoths set, and several Universes Beyond (aka, officially licensed crossover cards) sets like the Lord of the Rings Commander decks, the Doctor Who Commander decks, and the Assassin’s Creed set. “Partner With” is just a chunk of its keyword. Part of the keyword itself is the card that the Commander is...well, partnered with. “Partner With” is not the mechanic fully, because the full mechanic is “Partner With [specific card]��.

Choose a Background and its partner, the Background Enchantment subtype, were introduced in the Commander Legends: Battle for Baldur’s Gate set that came out well before Baldur’s Gate 3, leaving most of us confused about all of these named Commanders like Shadowheart and Karlach and Wyll. Backgrounds were a new way to add something to the Command zone that wasn’t necessarily a Creature or Planeswalker – instead, they’re Enchantments that boost your Commander. Even better, they work as part of the normal Commander deck, so they can still boost your Modal Commander Servitor even if they’re not in charge of it!

Friends Forever is a type of Partner originally tied to the Stranger Things Secret Lair cards that was brought in-universe with the Innistrad re-workings of those characters into more lore-accurate cards; any card with Friends Forever can team up with any other card with Friends Forever, but this one can even give you access to all five colors of mana.

Doctor’s Companion is a Partner keyword from the Doctor Who Commander decks that allows the cards with that keyword to partner with any Commander who has the subtype line “Time Lord Doctor”. My coworker, who is way more into Doctor Who than I am but knows very little about Magic: The Gathering, was absolutely giddy when she saw how that worked.

I understand that this is a lot, so let’s circle back to the primary point: using Partner Commanders means that you essentially have two Commanders to try and deal with in a Modal Commander Servitor context. I can think of a few ways to handle this, personally. One way is to just have two servitors and allow them to work together or separately to accomplish goals. Another is to treat them as two sides of the same servitor, drawing on one side at a time. A third that I can think of is to just address them as one unit, since that’s what your Commander deck is – a fusion of their two abilities to create a stronger whole.

There are also the Companions to consider. The Companion mechanic debuted in Ikoria: Lair of Behemoths in 2020, and it was panned as a mechanic. Even being reworked for the Multiverse Legends in 2023 reprint didn’t help the mechanic much. Notably, Lutri, the Spellchaser was banned in Commander the moment it was previewed [6] and Yorion, Sky Nomad can’t be used in Commander because it requires your deck to have more than the 100-card limit the format has. [7] But the other eight Companions are able to function as Companions (provided you have that Rule 0 talk with your pod about allowing a sideboard) within the constraints of the Commander format [8], thus giving you a 101st card and, potentially, an additional servitor. While they may not necessarily be an additional Modal Commander Servitor, they can be crafted as an additional, lesser servitor to aid your Modal Commander Servitor.

And no, you can’t use it as both a Commander and a Companion. The “only one card” rule still applies, so you have to choose one. However, provided that both of your Commanders meet the Companion’s requirements, you can absolutely have two Commanders and a Companion.

Do you see what I mean about getting into the weeds?

So what about when you’re done with your Modal Commander Servitor? My approach is to use a built-in “kill switch” to dissolve the servitor and, since this is tied to a specific Commander deck, to dismantle the deck and cleanse the Commander card. Simple and to the point, because I like simple and to the point.

I also made it easy to activate and dismiss my Modal Commander Servitor. I build all of my energyforms with activation phrases that will pull them out of “hibernation” and dismissal phrases that send them back to it. This allows them to rest and regain energy without having to be actively used. I used this same method and theory for my own Modal Commander Servitor.

I am also in a pod that believes in using every card we own, so even if a card is officially banned in Commander by the Commander Rules Committee (before they recently disbanded) or Wizards of the Coast, we still use them. (I feel the need to mention that I primarily play against my mother, who was a Magic: The Gathering player from the early days and does not believe in mercy.) Naturally, if you play with a specific group, you can talk to them about in-pod bans and allowances, but if you play against random people, it’s probably best to listen to the existing banlist. Of course, with WOTC in charge of the bans now, there’s going to be a whole power scaling thing... Lowkey, this format is kind of a mess right now because people lost their ever-loving minds recently. [9] But this is a post about pop culture occultism, not...that mess, so let’s move on!

For the rest of this post, let’s step through a theoretical Modal Commander Servitor. We’ll pick Yorion, Sky Nomad [7] because I feel bad for it. Although it can’t be a Companion, it’s still entirely legal as a Commander! Yorion is a White and Blue Legendary Bird Serpent for five mana, getting up into the pricier side of a Commander. It has four power and five toughness, meaning it can hit your opponents decently hard and take a pretty big hit. It has the Flying keyword, meaning that it can only be blocked by creatures with the Flying and/or Reach keywords. When it enters the battlefield, you get to exile any number of other, nonland permanents that you both own and control; they then come back to the battlefield at the beginning of your next end step. This is commonly referred to in MTG as “blinking”.

So this is pretty good, at least to me. You can bring it into the battlefield and exile any number of things that also have “enters the battlefield” triggers to get them to pop off once more. And looking at Yorion’s EDHRec page, a lot of people had the same idea. As of writing this, there are over one thousand decks on EDHRec that focus around blinking with Yorion at the helm. But blinking isn’t the only thing Yorion can do. Plenty of deck themes also feature cantrips (cards that draw you cards in addition to doing something else), those damned Persistent Petitioners (who can make your opponents mill their deck until they die from running out of cards), cloning, Flying, and so on, though none of them have nearly the number of Yorion decks that blinking does. Personally, I’d build a Bird deck, because I’m predictable and like Typal decks. I would add cards like Skycat Sovereign, Watcher of the Spheres, Favorable Winds, and other cards meant to boost Birds or Flying creatures. Ultimately, I would focus on making this a functional Commander deck first and foremost, because I’m not going to keep a deck around if it sucks ass. That kind of defeats the point of the Modal Commander Servitor – in order to make it more powerful, you need to use it for both kinds of magic.

So that’s the “Commander” part figured out. Let’s shift focus to the “Servitor” section. I have a fairly quick yet simultaneously detailed approach to making servitors. [10] The important things to emphasize when building this Modal Commander Servitor are to name the servitor for the card (including any epithets or surnames on the card you’re using), to give them the ability to draw on the cards/resources in their Commander deck, and to specify that your Modal Commander Servitor is just that when you are speaking it into existence. Give them the ability to adapt and whatnot.

So now we’ve got a Modal Commander Servitor. Personally, I would focus on pouring energy into it and giving it simple tasks at first so it can get its feet under it. Being spontaneously brought into existence is disorienting, even for things that can’t think for themselves and aren’t sentient, so I give my servitors a chance to exist and hang out in their “dismissed”/hibernation state so they can get used to existing.

Now, let’s talk about potential specificity. Even though I keep my Modal Commander Servitors extremely vague and adaptable, you can outline the particular modes you need them to function in more specifically. For example, Yorion can be given different “modes” focusing on categories of magic typically aligned with White and Blue, such as protection, scouting, travel, and elemental air and water. This can help if you want the Modal Commander Servitor to be more specific than “do whatever”. If you follow the “all entities are ultimately facets of a bigger entity” approach, you could have Yorion channel parts of the Bird overspirit or the Serpent overspirit, if that’s your spiritual cup of tea.

Ultimately, the point of the Modal Commander Servitor is adaptation and flexibility. Sometimes, you just need to outsource a problem and you don’t have the time to make a more specific Guy for it, but if you already have one of these handy, you can just point them at the issue and wait to see what happens.

I hope you enjoyed this post! It got...pretty long, but I think that’s ultimately for the best, since it enabled me to pack more detail in. If you end up doing this, please let me know what you do and how it goes! I’m eager to see what other people experience with this deeply UPG-based approach to servitor creation and usage.

Citations, Resources, And Further Reading

[1] “Jasper’s Servitor/Thoughtform Resource Post”, compiled on Tumblr by jasper-pagan-witch: https://jasper-pagan-witch.tumblr.com/post/762988504970100736/jaspers-servitorthoughtform-resource-post

[2] “Commander (format)” on the MTG wiki, compiled by Fandom users, through a Breezewiki mirror: https://antifandom.com/mtg/wiki/Commander_(format)

[3] “Planeswalker” on the MTG wiki, compiled by Fandom users, through a Breezewiki mirror: https://antifandom.com/mtg/wiki/Planeswalker

[4] “Modal” on the MTG wiki, compiled by Fandom users, through a Breezewiki mirror: https://antifandom.com/mtg/wiki/Modal

[5] “Bria, Riptide Rogue (Commander) – Otter” and “Yuriko, the Tiger’s Shadow (Commander) – Ninjutsu” on EDHRec: https://edhrec.com/commanders/bria-riptide-rogue/otter and https://edhrec.com/commanders/yuriko-the-tigers-shadow/ninjutsu

[6] “Lutri” on the MTG wiki, compiled by Fandom users, through a Breezewiki mirror: https://antifandom.com/mtg/wiki/Lutri

[7] “Yorion, Sky Nomad” on Scryfall: https://scryfall.com/card/mul/64/yorion-sky-nomad

[8] “All Companions” on EDHRec: https://edhrec.com/companions

[9] “On the Future of Commander” on the official Magic: The Gathering website, by Wizards of the Coast: https://magic.wizards.com/en/news/announcements/on-the-future-of-commander

[10] “Entity Creation Worksheet” adapted on Tumblr by jasper-pagan-witch: https://jasper-grimoire.tumblr.com/post/763362895377694720

Condensed Chaos: an introduction to chaos magic by Phil Hine: A good beginner primer on chaos magic, with a fairly extensive chapter on servitors/thoughtforms and a willingness to explain things that I just gloss over and build red string boards about.

Magickal Servitors: Create Your Own Spirits to Attract Pleasure, Power and Prosperity by Damon Brand: A very thorough book on servitor creation, though not necessarily from a chaos magic lens. I found it very funny to read how much the author was frothing at the mouth about chaos magic. Yet, it’s still hands-down the best book dedicated entirely to servitor creation that I’ve read thus far.

EDHRec, a website for comparing Commanders and seeing the most commonly used cards in particular decks: https://edhrec.com/

Scryfall, an MTG card searching database: https://scryfall.com/