#I apologize if it is messy

[greeenchrysanthemums]

Thus Always to Tyrants

Chapter 1: The Start of the Fall

Gem is the commander of the Wintertide royal army, Grian is the leader of a resistance hell bent on taking the crown down no matter the cost. It was only natural that they would become enemies.

Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

Read on ao3 ❀ here ❀

CW: past/mentioned war, non-graphic violence.

Words: 6,493

Pov: Gem

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The tip of Gem’s sword punctured the dummy’s chest, right through the center of the worn out fabric X sewn into its burlap surface. She planted her foot right under where the blade was buried and kicked it away with enough force to send it crashing to the ground, freeing her sword in the process. The dummy rolled away from her,  it’s sewn on face frowning up at her sadly in an almost comedic way as it went. She panted and stood up straight, rolling her shoulders to release some of the tension they had collected in the muscles. 

Her ears were met with a round of clapping, and she turned to smile at the group of young knights and squires who had gathered at the edge of the training grounds to observe her sword play. She gave an elegant, somewhat exaggerated, bow before turning to look up at the sky. She shielded her eyes from the shining rays as she checked the sun’s position. It was just about noon by this point, if not nearing it. She should be on her way, lest she be late.

“That will be all from me, I’m afraid. I’m in danger of receiving a verbal lashing from sir Impulse.” She joked to the trainees with an apologetic smile. 

“Do you really have to go?” One of the younger squires asked with big, pleading eyes. The others echoed the sentiment, all trying to convince her to stay and show them more.

“Unfortunately, yes, I do,” She said, “It’s a very important day today, as you all know, and my presence cannot be missed. Why don’t you lot work on what I just showed you until you are called to join us, and then you can show me your improvement another day. How does that sound?” There was a chorus of disappointed vocalisations, but they got back to their own work pretty quickly after a stern look was thrown their way.

She walked over to the fallen dummy and took a moment to stand it upright so that it was ready for the next person to use. She jogged over to where she had abandoned her water skin at the edge of the training ring, expertly tossing the practice sword she had borrowed into the designated barrel behind the dummies as she went. She took a few greedy gulps of sweet, crisp water before wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on her brow with the hem of her sleeve. Her clothes were damp with sweat and sticking to her skin, but where she was heading would be just as hot, if not more, so she was not worried about it. 

She really should not have let herself be roped into showing off to the younger knights and squires, but how could she not? She simply could not resist their charms; she had no choice but to say yes when they came to her on her way out to beg that she show them a few basic forms. They reminded her far too much of her younger self, she supposed. Bright eyed, full of admiration, and ready and eager to learn. There had been someone once in her life that was willing to give in to her pleas and show her everything they knew, she only thought it fair that she be the same kind of role model in these kids' lives. She would just die if she didn’t live up to their expectations. If that meant she ended up a little late every now and then? So be it.

She hooked the skin to her belt and bid the young ones an enthusiastic farewell, which they returned with varying degrees of equal cheerfulness and disappointment, and with that, she was off. She darted through the servant's entrance and into the kitchen, where she quickly snagged a bread roll out of a basket on one of the counters, giggling at the indigent shout of “Commander!” from one of the cooks as she did so. She waved goodbye to them, and they rolled their eyes at her, crossing their arms as she rounded the corner into the hall.

She made her way through the corridors with the bread roll secured safely in her bite, the loud clanking of her armor bouncing off of the high walls. As she ran, she took the opportunity to fix her bun, which had gotten rather messy during her little showing off session. She tucked loose strands back where they belonged and tightened the binding holding the bun and the braid together. It probably still looked a right mess, but at least it was a little more presentable. With her hair out of her face, she took a large bite out of the roll, groaning at the sweet, buttery taste of it.

She haphazardly shoved the rest of the roll into her mouth and chewed as fast as she could without choking. She licked the flakey crumbs from her fingers and wiped the rest of the mess off on the skirt of her dress. Not the most polite or proper, and her mama would definitely scold her for doing it, but she had not the time to worry about manners. She was going to be late; later than she probably already was.

She waved to the on duty guard at the main door and he yelled for her to have a good time just as she exited earshot. She lifted up the hem of her dress as she ran down the front steps, trying to avoid tripping over the expanse of fabric. She stumbled a little on the final step, pinwheeling her arms in order to steady herself before carrying on her way. 

She squinted against the sun in her eyes and slowed her pace to a light jog, a smile coming onto her face as she caught sight of her friends and the small group of guards waiting at the front gate for her. Impulse and Scott looked up as she skidded to a stop in front of them. She put her hands on her hips and bent slightly at the waist as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Worry not, I am here!” She proudly declared as she straightened her stance.

“Here, and late.” Scott said from where he was leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and one foot propped against the stone. His long hair was pulled over his shoulder into a braid, a stray stand of the blue locks falling into his amused face. Impulse beside him stood more casually with his thumbs tucked into the belt around his waist. The eldest man stifled a laugh at her expense.

“I will have you know that I am barely late. It is hardly even noon yet!” Gem defended with her hands still on her hips, turning her nose up at him in a playful manner.

“Late is late, Commander,” Scott laughed, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming with delight at her defensiveness. Gem opened her mouth to continue the friendly argument, but was halted by Impulse’s hand’s clamping down on either of their shoulders.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you two. Let's be on our way before our absence is missed.” Impulse said. Despite being lower in rank than her, Impulse was the oldest out of them, and one of her best friends, so Gem took no offense when he gave her a light shove in the direction of the town.

Gem took the lead as they exited the front gates, bidding the guards up at the top of the tall wall a goodbye as she went. Truth be told, it really was not too much of an issue that they were heading out a little later than what they expected. She had long ago coordinated and dispatched another unit to go ahead of them early this morning. Not only that, but her presence was not something that was strictly required, it was a personal choice. Technically there was no way for them to be late to this event. Scott simply enjoyed pulling her leg, and she, his.

The journey to town didn’t take them very long - a journey that they could have made shorter had the capital not been too crowded to bring horses on a day like this -  and in the blink of an eye they were entering the crowded city. 

Stands and carts littered the usually empty streets, filled to the brim with rare goods and flooded by customers eager to get their hands on whatever was being offered. The decadent smell of cooking meats and spices filled her nose and caused her mouth to water, the faint hint of baked goods and perfumes lingering just under the surface. Lively music filled the air, as did laughter and conversation. Over the heads of many a passersby she could see a stage set up in the center of the city square, where a band was playing the jolly tune that could be heard. 

If one was to look even further, they would also catch sight of even more booths and carts, designated entirely to games and things of the like. There were even places set up for the trading of livestock and furniture. Buildings were lined with decorations that were vibrant in colour.

The event wasn’t to officially begin for another quarter of an hour, but it appeared things were already in full swing.

The Festival of Good Tides; a yearly occurrence in Wintertide that was first established several years back after a truce had been called to end a three-year war between the kingdom and its neighbouring lands, Coral Crest. What was originally created as a way of boosting post war morale had become somewhat of a national holiday that the people looked forward to with great anticipation. Its popularity was also helped by the fact that the many activities and wares sold brought a large increase of income to the kingdom, something that many now relied on for the coming winter season, where food and warmth was a bit hard to come by without a bit of extra coin.

Though the festivities only lasted one day, the most was always made of it. Events and trading started at noon and extended into the evening until the sun had set and the stars had risen, from which point the king would make his appearance, give a speech and his blessing for the coming winter, and then the feast would begin. This grand dinner would go throughout the night and into the early morning, with more than enough food and alcohol to satisfy the masses provided by the castle.

Though it had only been a few years since the tradition had begun, its rise in popularity had been swift and widespread. People would come from all over the land just to partake in the joyous occasion, and get a piece of the financial opportunities that it offered. 

During this time, Inns would become so crowded that people even took the opportunity to rent out rooms in their own homes to travelers. It was even common for those intending to sell to camp out with their traveling carts and stalls in the surrounding woods during the week leading up to the festival, so common that there were designated areas marked and prepped for them nearly a month in advance. 

Gem never really got to enjoy the festival as the celebration that it was, preferring to act more as security so as to ensure that things didn’t get too out of hand, but it was still something that she looked forward to every year. It was one of many highlights that came from living in the capital. It reminded her of who she was here for, who she spent every day of her life training and fighting to protect.

It wasn’t too long ago that this land would have been rife with paranoia and poverty, the war having taken its toll on the people and the land itself. Gem basked in every second of the happiness that she could, while also remaining vigilant that nothing disturbed it. She would do anything to ensure that this time of peace lasted.

“I’m going to split off here,” Scott said, interrupting her thoughts. He jabbed his thumb over to the left of the path they were walking to indicate where he was going, “I think Jimmy’s stall is somewhere over there. I’m going to go see if I can haggle him out of some of the high-quality leather he sells before it is all snatched up. Assuming it hasn’t been already”

“Alright, we will see you at the feast.” Impulse said, giving him a rough pat on the shoulder as a farewell.

“Don’t forget to actually do your job while you’re at it.” Gem teased, punching him in the shoulder. She then motioned for two of the other knights to break off from the group to accompany Scott, and motioned for two others to go in the opposite direction, where she knew more knights were already patrolling. She didn’t want them too split up lest something happen and they need numbers, but it is never a bad idea to have eyes in more places.

“You know me, I’ve always got an eye out,” Scott replied.

“Give Jimmy and Tango my greetings” Gem cheerfully told him as he began to walk away, only to be met with a grimace thrown over his shoulder at her. She laughed at the expression. She knew that Scott’s relationship with his friend's partner was strained and awkward at best, and it was too much fun to tease him about it.

“I think I’m going to head over to my parents' cart. Would you like to come with me?” Impulse asked, looking around the crowded area to try and spot them over the masses.

“I think I am going to hang around the stage. A vast majority of fights always seem to break out in or around this area, so it is best I stay here for now.” Gem said, crossing her arms and scanning the crowd for anything, or anyone, that might be out of place.

“I know we’re here to keep an eye on things, but do try to have a little bit of fun, alright? This is, after all, a celebration!” Impulse insisted, gesturing towards the festivities with a broad sweep of his arms.

“I will do as I please. Give your mothers' my greetings, yes?” Gem asked, shooing him away and sending an extra knight after him with a gesture of her hand.

“Will do!” He gave her a two fingered salute before jogging away.

Gem would not lie and say she had not been tempted to go see Impulse’s parents with him. They were lovely people who adored her and always “snuck” handfuls of candy into the pockets of her dress when she wasn’t looking, but she had meant it when she said the city square and the stage were where 90% of the festival's problems broke out before the feast began, second only to the alcohol booths. Regardless of how rare issues actually were, though, she really would prefer to stay close so she can break up any altercations before they had a chance to escalate 

She did, however, make a pit stop over to one of the meat carts to buy her and the remaining knights with her a rabbit and potato skew from one of the stands a little ways away from the center of the festival. It was a divine bit of food, and she would be a fool to not get some before it was all sold out. The bread roll she had snagged from the kitchen had done little to satiate her hunger and it would be foolish to work on an empty stomach, she reasoned as she thumbed coins over to the vendor and was handed a couple of skewers in return for her payment. 

She distributed them among her remaining knights and then took a big bite out of the hearty meat as she led the way back towards the stage, just in time to catch the start of the next performance.

A stout young woman in a short sleeved, rose pink dress made her way up onto the stage with a bright smile on her face. A man followed behind her with a staff in his hand, and Gem grew giddy with excitement as she realized where this performance may be going. The man went down onto one knee and offered the woman the staff , which she accepted with a deep bow before he rushed off the stage.

She raised the staff, made of wood old and brittle with a glittering jewel entrapped in its spiraled tip, up towards the sky, and the crowd waited with bated breath. She whispered something under her breath, so quiet that it was sure not a soul in the crowd had heard her, but Gem watched her lips form the words, and she knew what was coming next.

For a moment nothing happened, and then light burst forth from the tip of the staff up into the sky in a coil of glittering gold. The strings of light rippled through the air before coming together to form the image of a bird big and grand, which spread its magneficent wings and flew over the crowd with a brilliant wooshing sound. The crowd screamed with delight and laughter as the bird let out a tremendous caw. It rose high into the sky before turning abruptly and diving straight for the stage floor. It exploded as it made contact with the ground, sending glittering shimmers of light, almost like millions of miniature stars, all across the wooden planks.

The crowd erupted into raucous cheers, which Gem joined in on, holding the now bare wooden skew in between her teeth in order to do so. The woman, her smiling face now red and shiny with sweat, bowed once more, holding her staff out to the side of her and placing a hand over her heart as she did so. She took a moment to wave to the crowd before rushing off stage to make way for the next performer. 

What a brilliant performance, Gem thought. Magic in this day and age was a rare sight to see, so even simple spells like that were enough to leave most in awe. 

Gem couldn’t even imagine what it had been like back in the day, when magic was rampant and widespread across the lands, when things like this were commonplace and about as impressive as someone tying their boots. Gem was well versed in what little there was to be known about magic, and it wasn’t a lot. There were very little records of that time long past, only a few books here, the odd fairytale there. There was barely even enough to tell the people of today that there was once a period of time where magic ruled the lands, and no one exactly knows what happened to it.

Now there were barely any folks left with any sort of magical inclination about them at all, and those who did had so little of it that they were barely able to do simple illusion spells like the one Gem just saw without being left utterly exhausted by their efforts. 

She watched several more performances after this, ranging from a man who juggled an armful of colourful balls, a woman who balanced herself on the tip of a tall, slim poll, a woman who sang a beautiful song accompanied by her husband’s lute, a man who did a magic trick involving balls of fire, and many more.

Hours had passed and the next performer was just about to come up onto the stage when Gem caught something out of the corner of her eye. A swish of red fabric that was all too familiar to her; one of the reasons she always preferred to stay on her toes. 

She inhaled sharply through her nose, sparks of anger already kindling in her chest as she whipped around to ensure it was who she thought it was, and without a doubt, it was him. There he was, standing there so close to the stage it would be no problem at all for him to climb upon it should he so wish to. He was eyeing the performer with an almost bored expression. Even with what little anonymity that stupid hood of his offered him, she would recognize him anywhere. 

She marched towards the person, her hand moving towards her sword despite knowing she could not, and would not, use it in such a crowded space. Not when so many innocent lives were at risk of getting caught in the crossfire.

His head turned in her direction, his inky black eyes lighting up with amusement as he spotted her, a smirk spread across his bird-like face. He turned away and took off into the crowd, and Gem gave chase without a second thought.

He weaved through the crowd faster and faster, seamlessly avoiding bumping into people as he moved in a way not too dissimilar to a snake in the grass. She shouldered past people, yelling quick apologies to those who shouted in protest as she tried to keep up with the smaller man, his distinctive red cloak being the only thing that allowed her to keep sight of him through the tightly packed crowd.

He led her all the way towards the bustling merchant’s area. This part of the festival was full of richly coloured fabrics that were folded neatly along the surface of the carts that sold them, and there was a large variety of rare clothing article, which hung from racks in tidy rows on either side of her, easy to knock down and cause a fuss should she not move carefully. The air was thick with perfumes and the smell of dye, the scent thick and almost overpowering to her hard-working lungs as she ran through the area with delicate movements. He threw her a devious smile over his shoulder as he ducked under a rack of brightly coloured scarves, which she darted around, knowing she would not make it under. 

She wasn’t a fool, she knew this was a game to him, and she wasn’t going to let him keep playing it.

The crowd was beginning to thin the further they got away from bustling city square, giving her the opportunity to increase her speed at last. Her armor rattled as she pushed herself to catch up to the nimble man, her blood rushing through her ears and her heart racing loudly. He attempted to duck into an alleyway, but she followed after before he could escape, turning sharply on her heels. She grabbed the back of his cloak, pulling him backwards and his hood down.

She ducked as a set of razor sharp talons ripped towards her face, messy pieces of her hair whipping past her field of vision as she grabbed the man’s wrist, bringing her palm up swiftly into his gut. He gasped as the air was knocked out of his small body. She took the opportunity to swing around into a kick, and her boot would have connected with his neck had he not raised his arms into a protective position in order to block the blow in the last moment. It was still enough to send him to the ground, however, and he hit the cobble with a bounce that sent him rolling.

He used the momentum to flip himself up into a crouching position, blood running down his chin from where he had presumably bit his tongue. His expression was still somewhat playful, but now had a much more serious glint to it. He kept his talons at the ready to counter Gem’s next attack, his body tense with anticipation. His sharp eyes were taunting her, waiting for her to make the next move as he always did.

“Grian.” She said, her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it at any moment.

“Commander” He said in turn, tilting his head unnaturally to the side, much like the owl he shared his attributes with.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, looking down her nose at him, her thumb inching her sword out of the sheath.

“Is it a crime to enjoy a national holiday like every other citizen in the kingdom?” He questioned in an almost teasing manner.

“Enough of your games! It is no mere coincidence that you would show up today of all days after months of silence.” Gem snapped, her shoulders rising in turn with the bubbling anger in her heart.

Grian, a slippery, troublemaking avian that she had been butting heads with on a near regular basis ever since she was a bright eyed squire fresh off of the snowy mountain she called home, eager to prove herself in her search for glory.  

He had made his entrance into her life in a flashy and grand fashion that was bound to leave an impression on just about anyone; an explosion in the castle's courtyard. It had been small, only enough to take out a tiny portion of the wall. It had been so clearly a distraction, but after years of war, it had been enough to cause a panic that only Gem had been levelheaded enough to power her way through. It was her quick wit that allowed her to act swiftly in the face of potential danger, and her friendly and outgoing personality that let her realize she’d never seen his face around the castle before and clock that he was an intruder. She’d taken him down before he was able to do whatever it was that he was planning to do inside of the castle, but he’d still managed to escape in the end.

Along with an increase in security and guards stationed on the outer walls, the royal army gained another knight that day. Ironic that it would be the man who would come to torment her any chance he could in the near future that would see to it that she was promoted early in her career.

They met many times after that first initial encounter, and with each one it only became obvious that his goal from the very beginning was to tear down the Wintertide royal bloodline at any cost and destroy the peace she tried so hard to protect. 

He sought to create chaos and disorder within the kingdom, and he would stop at nothing to see these goals met. It was only natural that they would become rivals, enemies that would be at constant odds with each other until the end of all things. Time and time again he would make his move against the royal family, and she was always there to put an end to it. It was an endless dance that they seemed to be trapped in indefinitely, for better or for worse.

As the years passed, he shifted his focus from the castle and the king to something else, something more attainable. He would commonly be found in the streets, yelling about injustices to anyone who would give him an ear. 

At first, no one would pay him any mind, and he would always make a break for it the second Gem showed up to put a stop to his public disturbances. Over time, however, as taxes were raised to cover the costs of damages done to the land and economy by the war, and tensions between their neighbouring kingdom rose yet again, his ideals slowly but surely gained more and more popularity. People were moved by his cause, rallied by a hatred for a monarchy they felt provided them very little protection or surety in their time of unrest. 

Suddenly he wasn’t a single person acting alone anymore; he was the leader of a group they had no way of knowing the scope of. 

They had tried to take him and his mysterious resistance down for years now, but by some feat of the gods they had managed to avoid detection, as well as capture, the entire time. Even now, it is unknown just how large his resistance is, or the names of those who operate within it, making it difficult to do anything in opposition to the group. They had only a few names for certain they could connect to him, but they have all been as untraceable as he. Every tip and clue that came Gem's way only led to empty houses and cellars with nothing but clearly fake plans and documents within them that led her and her men right back to where they had started; with nothing at all. 

All of this to say that he and his group are dangerous, effective people who should not be taken lightly, and his presence at The Festival of Good Tides bore nothing but ill tidings. 

The avian sighed in an overly dramatic, fake manner, no doubt playing it up to get a rise out of her. She was ashamed to admit that it worked.

“Fine, I suppose there is no point in hiding it from you,” He said, his face once again breaking into a wide smile, “I was looking for you, actually. I knew if I showed up to the festival you would find me within seconds and pursue me until you had me in your grasp.”

“And, why, in god's name, were you seeking to put yourself right into my hands? A bit of a foolish thing to do, if you ask me. You know as well as I do that you are no match for me, birdy.” She taunted. 

She swiftly pulled her sword from its sheath and put the tip of the blade to his unprotected neck. It was just long enough for her to close the distance between them without having to take so much as a step closer. His expression remained unbothered and playful, despite the obvious threats to his life.

“I wanted to give you a fair warning,” He replied cryptically.

“What in the hells does that mean?” She questioned, hackles once again rising.

“Something big is coming, Gem.” He answered. His eyes were wide and excited, almost manic even, as he said this. She had never seen him like this before in all her years knowing him.

“Something big? What in the blazes are you on about?” She asked, unease settling in her stomach like a heavy stone at the words

“You would do well to prepare yourself while you still can.” He said instead of giving her a real answer, “For all of our back and forth, I do not hate you. It would sure be a shame if something were to happen to you that could have been avoided.”

“Your mad rambles make little sense. Explain yourself before I have your head!” She threatened, pushing the tip of the sword against his throat further.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you anymore than I already have, but you’ll find out in due time, believe in that. The end might be closer than you think.” He said, and her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. 

He took advantage of her brief shock to sweep his leg out faster than she could react. The hard, scaly part of his taloned foot grabbed a hold of her sword’s blade and wrenched the weapon out of her hands, sending it to the ground with a metallic clatter. She shouted in alarm and leaped towards the fallen sword in an attempt to regain control of the situation, but before she could even get close, Grian pulled a bottle out from somewhere within his cloak and smashed it against the ground at her feet.

There was a flash and a popping noise following the shattering of the glass, and thick smoke billowed out around them, obscuring her vision and filling her nose with the overbearing smell of sulfur. Her eyes burned, watering fiercely as she coughed, trying to clear her lungs of the smoke.

She waved the air in front of her, looking around frantically for the avian but seeing not a single sign of him. There wasn’t so much as a feather on the ground, nor where there any footprints in the grime showing where he’d taken off to. All there was in the now vacant cobble alley was her sword, flat against the ground where it had fallen. 

“Gem!” She heard someone call out to her from behind.

She turned to find Impulse rushing towards her. He looked frantic, out of breath. A few other soldiers trailed behind him, visibly on edge as they looked around the smokey alley. Her old friend hurried to her side, grabbing her face and brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes as he turned her side to side to check for injuries. 

She pulled away from him, wordlessly moving over to her abandoned sword and picking it up from the ground. She examined the blade before turning her eyes up to the sky, where the smoke was still spiraling up towards the clear blue expanse. 

“The men that were stationed with you came to me in a frenzy and said you took off in a rush. They said may be in need of some help, and the thought of you of all people needing help against something on its own is a frightening, so I came as soon as I could.” Impulse said from behind her. “What happened?

“It was Grian.” She said, turning towards him. Then, as an afterthought, she tacked on, “And I didn’t need any help. You know me.”

“It hardly matters to me how strong you are, I will always worry for you regardless. It is in my nature.” He said with a smile, which dropped into a more serious look, “But, Grian, you say? Has he not been off the radar for months now? What’s he doing back in the capital on today of all day? Surely he is up to no good.”

She sheathed her sword, taking a moment to wonder if she should share the cryptid warning that the avian had given her. Her eyes flickered over to the nervous knights standing behind her friend. They were clearly new, fresh out of being squires if she had to take a guess. It was highly probable that they would panic upon hearing information such as this. Besides, anything pertaining to Grian and his resistance was more classified than what she was willing to share with just anyone. She would prefer to inform the king of the news, as well, and it was almost nightfall anyway so his arrival to the festival site was fast approaching. It was best she not have to repeat herself when handling such delicate information. You never know who may be listening.

“I think it would be wiser if I don’t share that with so many ears around. This is information better shared to a smaller group.” She informed him. He glanced back at the soldiers behind him and nodded in understanding.

“Let us return to the festival, this time with eyes and ears more focused.” She said, "If he shows his face again, he will not be getting away so easily a second time."

She turned on her heels and deftly made her way back towards the crowded square, the others following after all. She held her head high, posture straight and professional, but underneath the facade was a twisting feeling of unease that she couldn’t get rid of, and which threatened to force her lunch to make a second appearance. 

Her mind was racing, her chest was tight. What could her longtime rival have meant with that threat? No, that had been more of a promise than it had been a threat. But a promise of what, she didn’t know, and that is what scared her. Whatever it was that he had in store for the kingdom of Wintertide, he was so incredibly certain of its success that he was willing to seek her out to personally tell her of its existence. 

Either he was a fool, or there was something to truly worry about afoot, and something told her it was the latter since she had never known Grian to be a stupid man.

In fact he was quite the dangerous person. 

A harmless person could not gain the following and influence that he had over people in such a short time as he had. Even when the people above her had thought of him as little more than a fly buzzing in their ear, she had always taken every move he made seriously. She would be a fool herself not to treat him as the treat he really was. 

If anything, she was surprised it had taken so long for him to make his move. With the reach and numbers he seemed to have within the capital it was a wonder something “big” had yet to happen. Why now of all times? What was his game?

She looked over her shoulder at the abandoned alley one last time, her expression hardening into a determined glare. Even with her worry, she knew one thing for certain; whatever it may be that he was planning, she would put an end to it. 

He would not succeed. 

                                                ❀     ❀     ❀

“Was it necessary to toy with her like that?” His hooded companion asked from beside him, tone high and amused.

Grian stood upon the roof, the smoke bomb having given him just enough time to escape out of view. His cloak fluttered in the wind behind him and his hands clenched into fists, his sharp nails digging into his palms. His expression was blank, his black eyes watching as the commander of the royal army grew smaller the further she got from them. She’d almost seen him when she glanced back. Almost, but not quiet. 

“Not that I am complaining,” His companion pushed further upon not receiving a response, “It is rather funny, I must admit.”

“I am not toying with her,” He stated, not daring to take his eyes off of the commander until she was well out of view, “It was a real warning.”

“Even worse,” Was the reply, which was then followed by a laugh, “Now she’ll be wary, more prepared than she would have had you said nothing at all. I have to agree with the Commander on this one, Grian, this seems an odd move to make so early into the plan. After all of the work we put into this, it seems entirely counterproductive. Are you not worried she could put an end to this all before it has even begun?”

“Let her try and interfere,” He said, a smile spreading across his face as the wind picked up speed, “There will be no stopping what is to come.”

[razcascade]

big fan of grian's threatening aura this session

[hamsternamedmarinette]

Don't ask how it got into his room

[xlandloud]

some defender huh

[just-null]

a funny because i lost my file and then life began to test me

[jajatoc]

A bunch of eldens rings sketches I've drawn in the last months and that I will never finish

[maplecoffee]

Its 6 am im so tired

"OH LITTLE BILL WORE VELCRO UNTIL HE WAS SIXTEEN"

[lacquerheadd]

buckle your knees looking up at me, and beg me to spare thee the back of my hand.

[queruloustea]

a sketchy hornet and shade lord :)

not exactly sure what i was going for when i started this piece, but that's alright :)

i will thank @mxyzptplk for the rough idea, too! big shadow critter my beloved

[turnipoddity]

I need more chainshipping drawings, they are like food for me.

Please feed me

ask and you shall recieve

[ironunderstands]

Sunday’s worldview sucks, his outlook and perception of himself and others sucks… and that’s why he’s so interesting

In honor of his drip marketing releasing tonight (or maybe yesterday for you depending on when I get this out), I’d like to talk about why I think Sunday’s beliefs and perspective is very, very flawed and how his own biases rather than the actions of those who oppose him are what led to his downfall.

Sunday is entirely responsible for his own failure, and that’s exactly why he’s incredible.

This contains mentions of leaks and spoilers for the Penacony quest line… you have been warned

To start with, oh my lord do Sunday’s preconceived notions kick him in the ass. 

I think the best example of this is his conversation with Dr. Ratio in which Ratio pretends to betray Aventurine, selling out his plan to Sunday. Now, what’s incredibly interesting about this exchange is that Ratio doesn’t fully lie to Sunday once in this exchange, rather he says half truths and makes vague statements which Sunday himself interprets as being in support of him. 

Take what Ratio said the whole, “A scholar knows their position and wouldn’t forsake it for the sake of petty pride.” In retrospect, we know this line is actually referring to Aventurine- aka Ratio is saying he’s not just going to sell him out to Sunday for the sake of information about the Stellaron (which he would get anyways if the IPC attained Penacony, plus Mr. Incredibly Dedicated Knowledge Spreader probably has other means of gaining it then through The Family). 

However, since Ratio answered the invitation Sunday gave him, Sunday assumes that Ratio is on his side, believes his cause is righteous, and that he won Ratio over with offering him information about the Stellaron, therefore making that previous statement of Ratio’s null, because Sunday interpreted it as, “convince me this is worth my time + prove to me you’re correct,” when it really meant, “there is no way in hell I’m about to sacrifice my friend to you, and there is nothing you could offer me to make me do so you crazed lunatic.”

But why did Sunday not weigh the options? Why did he unquestioningly believe his perception of the situation was the correct one?

Well- partly it’s because Ratio and Aventurine were doing their damndest to make it seem like they hate each other and that their plan was going off the rails.

But the more important part is that even without Ratio saying a word or even accepting the invitation, Sunday already believes he’d be on his side. 

Let me demonstrate this through Sunday's perspective:

I am a righteous person, I am doing the correct things, my worldview is the correct one. Dr. Ratio is also a righteous person who seems to be doing the correct things. Therefore, since we are both on the side of good, and Aventurine is clearly not on that side considering his status as Stoneheart and his negative relationship to Ratio, then Ratio will naturally want to be on my side. After all, the good guys work together, do they not?- and together will vanquish this evil villain.

This perspective is a simple one, but Sunday’s unshaking belief (up until the end of 2.2) that he is 100% in correct and in the right, that any and everyone who he also perceives to be in the right (like Ratio) would believe/side with him without truly needing to be convinced. Sunday doesn’t come out the gate offering the Stellaron information- he only keeps it as a backup just in case. 

However, this is complicated because Sunday is also not an idiot, and he’s extremely paranoid, so he’s going to make sure that the way he views the world is 100% correct on the off chance he’s wrong which could foil his plans- which is why he invited Ratio in the first place. Nevertheless, this isn’t him hunting for new perspectives, but rather him desiring to prove himself right again, which is a bad thing because Sunday is very much not right. 

A perfect world is a perfect pris- *gets shot*

Reference that approximately 2 ½ people will get beside, Sunday’s ideology that he is fully confident in.. sucks. It sucks ass, it’s terrible, and let me explain.

I’m not going to try going over all the little intricacies to how the dreamscape works because I a) don’t know and b) don’t particularly care because they aren’t relevant to the argument I will be making- which is that Sunday’s ideology is inherently flawed and immediately falls apart under scrutiny.

Essentially, he desires to create the perfect fake reality, enveloping the whole galaxy in Ena’s dream and fulfilling their every desire and whim within it, with himself as the sacrifice to allow it to exist. The seven rest days, no illness, no pain, no challenge, you get the idea. 

And, this perfect world paradoxically sucks ass because of its perfectness.

Improving society is great, eliminating hardship is great, increasing quality of life is great.

But declawing reality itself- absolutely not.

I’m going to try to explain this through my favorite strangely specific anecdote- the process of obtaining diamonds in Minecraft.

Stay with me now.

You essentially have two options- go out and mine them yourselves the hard way, which takes hours, gives you less diamonds per the amount of time spent on it, and likely with you exhausting some of your resources like food, torches, and tools which you will need to replenish.

Or.

You can just.. get them from creative mode or commands, and you can get as many as your heart desires.

However, despite the fact that option one is harder, gives you less diamonds and takes significantly more time, I, as well as hopefully you, would pick it every time (at least in a survival world, although honestly idk why you would even need pure diamonds in creative).

And that’s because the first option is rewarding. 

You did not earn the diamonds you easily and magically summoned into your inventory, there is no struggle, no journey, no challenge to it, therefore it feels entirely unremarkable, as compared to the feeling you (hopefully) get from mining diamonds, which makes you happy because you earned it. Yeah, it was harder, but the process itself is fun- the anticipation of not knowing when you’re going to find them, if at all, the danger, the fighting and digging and mauvering you will have to do in the process.

And with this unconventional example, the fatal flaw with Sunday’s ideology is revealed- it’s boring. 

It’s boring as shit.

Yeah, for the first few months or even years it might be enjoyable- having everything you could ever want served on a silver platter. However, humans are a) inherently a bit greedy and b) desire challenge, and this scenario fulfilles neither of those things. Naturally having everything means your desire for more can never be fulfilled, leaving the wanter forever unsatisfied, whereas in the real world, things are truly out of your reach, meaning that even if you never end up getting them, they are still a tangible thing just out of reach… as strange at it sounds, we like being tantalilus-ed more than you think. After all, if what you want is so easy to get, you will never run out of things to want, and eventually that gets draining. 

Continually, if everything is easy, if everything is just right there whenever you want it- existence itself no longer has stakes. 

And that’s the problem, because much like how a story with no stakes is extremely hard to find compelling, a life with no stakes feels boring at best and downright pointless and meaningless at worst.

I’m just saying, there is a reason why the Nihility was such a strong presence and problem in Penacony.

Anyways, like with the diamond problem, a lack of stakes means that nothing you do feels rewarding, because you didn’t truly earn it. 

Which is where the Sunday’s idea of a “perfect” reality falls apart, because the most enjoyable reality for humans to live in is not one literally devoid of any possible flaw.

So why does he believe in it? When it’s so clearly flawed?

Well, it’s because Sunday doesn’t think a better alternative exists.

The world made you this way.. and you chose to continue what it started.

I’m sure I don’t need to repeat the story of the Charmony Dove all over again because trust me, we’ve all heard it before. Nonetheless, it reveals something important both about Sunday’s personality and his ideology- he’s fundamentally a defeatist.

He doesn’t believe that there is any alternative for the dove, that it could ever be able to fly again with its deformed nature, so instead of being “cruel” and letting it “inevitably fall to its death,” he’d rather keep it in a cage all its life where it has no freedom, but at least it would he alive and “happy”.

And this is where his defeatism reveals itself- Sunday doesn’t believe reality itself can get better because improving it when there are so many factors and things out of your control is hard at best and impossible at worst. Therefore, he resorts to creating an escapist, false version of it- a perfect golden cage, because constructing that is far, far easier than trying to help the dove fly again. 

The universe has endless possibilities, if Robin and Sunday had tried hard enough, they probably could have found a solution. Sure, they were both children, so the capabilities necessary to even attempt that were likely far out of their reach. However, it was still possible, but Sunday doesn’t believe in possibilities- he believes he’s right above all else, which is where that stubbornness and arrogance comes into play again.

Sunday doesn’t think better solutions than his exists, and he believes everyone would could possibly stand in his noble way are either villains, or horribly misguided; so it’s his job to show them the light.

This is why he lets the Express Crew + Firefly try to change his mind- Sunday wasn’t actually interesting in shifting his perspective, or really what they wanted to say. Rather, he just wanted to let them say there peace, because well, Sunday’s a good, righteous person (at least from his perspective), and good, righteous people listen to others. Good, righteous people will let these poor, ignorant souls offer their foolish words before exposing them to the harsh truth- or at least that’s how Sunday sees it. 

Moreover, this also explains his arrogance. If he believes his worldview is the sole correct one, then why listen to anyone else? He’s this world's savior, or at least he’s been raised to believe that- so why not relish in it? He enjoys punishing Aventurine, enjoys the bastard who stood in the way of Sunday’s plans, shrinks away in “defeat” and get what he “deserves.” Despite how miserable it sounds, Sunday also takes pride in having to be a martyr to bring about his beautiful dream. The belief that he is a selfless, good person is a selfish desire of his, even if a genuine one, and it’s what leads to his downfall.

Sunday could have actually listened. He could have reevaluated his loss to Aventurine and realized it was not through the others clever deception, but through his own biases. He could have actually taken the Express’s and Firefly’s advice. He could have looked for other avenues to help the people he truly does care about. 

Despite Gopher Wood’s manipulation- Sunday’s decision to go forward with the pain is entirely his own, because he truly believes- even with all the evidence for the contrary- that he is correct.

And that’s why he fails. Not because of the Express. Not because of Ratio. Not because of Aventurine. Not because of Gopher, or even the rest of The Family.

No, Sunday fails because he is flawed, and he is wrong, and he is the arrogant, selfish and biased one, and his worldview is wrong.

So what now?

This might have seemed like I think Sunday is pure evil and irredeemable, but I think it’s quite the opposite.

He has very good intentions, and he does genuinely care about it the well being of other people around him. He gives Aventurine a chance to prove his innocence, even if he never intended on changing, he does listen to what the Express + Firefly have to say. He pauses when Robin shows up, as she’s the one person (until the very end) he’s actually willing to accept the perspective of. The whole reason he ended up here in the first place is because Gopher Wood twisted Sunday’s good intentions into a fatal arrogance and utmost belief in a flawed worldview. 

However, what really sells me on Sunday’s goodness is when eyes widen at that final moment, the light draining from him as he realizes he is wrong. 

And once Sunday realizes he is wrong, those flaws that bind him can finally be examined and improved upon, as they all stem from that worldview he no longer believes in. 

His whole life, Sunday has been enacting out someone else’s plan for him, even if he’s come to internalize it over time, at the end of the day- it was never his, and without it, he’s empty.

Which is exactly why the only place he can go now is the Express, and the only thing left for him is redemption and growth.

Dan Heng is right- Sunday has a noble soul, and now that he has stopped believing in himself, he’s no longer shackled by the past either. Improvement or utter demise (in a likely nihility-flavored manner) are his only options remaining.

I understand a lot of people want to see him become a Stellaron Hunter, but imo, that just does nothing for him. He’d still be following someone else’s path/script, and Mr. I Will Sacrifice My Whole Existence To Become The Sun To Illuminate These Wandering Souls probably wouldn’t be so on board with the whole.. terrorism part of being a SH. Like yeah, they are our friends (kinda), but they absolutely kill innocent people and cause millions of dollars in property damage to people who don’t deserve it. 

Also, being on the Express Just Makes Sense. This is a game about choices, a game about accepting the mistakes of your past, but not letting them define you in order to move on and forge a better future for yourself and others- with the Astral Express + Trailblaze as a concept being the literal embodiment of it. There’s a reason when you switch to the Trailblazer’s POV in stories, it includes Kafka’s most important words to us- “When you have the chance to make a choice, make one you won’t regret.”

Therefore, I hope the choices Sunday will make in 2.7 are ones he’s proud of, and I can’t wait to see how exactly they get him on board with the crew, because there still is a LOT of development he needs to do before then. 

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and if you have any thoughts I’d love to hear them. This was a stream of consciousness mess, but I hope it was still valuable nonetheless! Also if you are reading this on the day it was written, I hope we don’t get disappointed by his drip marketing!

[cryptocism]

You think just anybody can qualify for a crush on Superboy? There's a vetting process. You have to submit an application to the board.

I continue to draw the silly bits of Frequency (this one is from Chapter 5, if context is a thing you like to have)

[cheerioskid]

skyblings!! (i firmly believe jimmy belongs in the skyblings)

closeup & no color ver vv

the inspiration ^^

also please pretend that 1) grian is just hanging onto the side of the cart with his bird feet or whatever and 2) that jimmys wings DO EXIST and that they like show up whenever he needs them or something bc i couldn't draw these without losing readability or my mind :)

[k3yboi]

WE ARE GOING NONANON FOR THIS ONE!! GORT!! HELLO!! I LOVE UR ART SO MUCH IT MAKES ME INSANE!! but.... you can use this as an excuse to dump ALL your Will art (and you know. anything with will and his duplicate. if you want as a treat... they are best friends!! :DD (definitely. definitely))

LOTS OF WILL DOODLES!! IDK IF IVE POSTED THESE ALREADY BUT GAH

some will and won’t. and.. a few other aus… and also cough syrup and whiskey ig bc i’ve had them lying around

[divinemachina]

ULTRAKILL OC

AMIT REFERENCE SHEET.

[twilight-spargle]

needs new formalwear every week princess gf + personal stylist plus one gf