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laoih · 2 years ago

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Middle-earth without Tolkien

Review of "The Rings of Power": Episode 1 & 2

I am a big fan of Tolkien's writings and the fictional world he had created. If you try to sell me a show that is supposed to be "true to Tolkien" and that is supposedly set in Middle-earth and uses the names of his characters and locations, I'm going to have expectations.

Unfortunately, in the first two episodes they were not met. While the show looks decent and could be an okay-ish start for an original show, at this point it does not work as an adaptation of Tolkien's writings at all.

Spoiler warnings for the 1st & 2nd episode under the cut.

The Production

Nice sets, overall good VFX and music

Let me start by saying that overall, the look of the show is mostly fine. This is especially true in regards to the sets and most of the visual effects: Moria looked impressive, Lindon has a few nice shots and the landscape shots are, of course, also beautiful. We also get some great VFX shots in the intro and whenever they introduce new locations. The music was good as well – for the most parts it was fitting for the atmosphere of the scene and was not distracting. However, I wouldn't say that it was anything special – only in seaso 2 I found one moment where the music really stood out for me.

Questionable character design

I wasn't a fan of the character designs when the casting and later the designs were announced, and this hasn't really changed:

Among the Elves, Galadriel's casting is probably the best of them, but the choices for her costumes are strange at times. Gil-galad is completely miscast in my opinion, and his golden costume just looks bad, especially the fabric. Elrond doesn't look the Elvish part, and especially his costume in Moria doesn't look good. Celebrimbor is way too old, and no acting can change that. And the fact that they make him walk from Ost-in-Edhil to Moria in his long robes is ridiculous. For Arondir, and other Elves, it's little details that sometimes just don't work or that are irritating – like the fact that most Elf-women besides Galadriel seemed to be veiled. And then there is, of course, the fact that all male Elves but Gil-galad have short hair, and I think this is a really really bad decision. Give the Elves their long hair back! Also, what's up with the Roman style of the Elves?

Among the Dwarves, things look a little bit better: Durin IV looks decent for a Dwarf, and most other Dwarves that we see look Dwarvish enough. But of course there is the issue of Disa, who according to Tolkien should also have a beard - which she doesn't. Her costume also looks not really Dwarvish at all. But since she is basically only in one scene in these two episodes, this can be overlooked.

For Men, the character designs are mostly okay – although Bronwyn sticks out in so far that she seems to be the only clean person in her entire village. The Harfoots have overall mostly fitting costumes, but the random plants in their give un unnecessary primitive impression.

Acting

The acting is overall decent – there is rarely a case where the acting feels off or pulls you out of the show. However, in these first two performances there wasn't really anything impressive to see either.

My favourite performance is probably Roberto Aramayo – his acting is charming, his line delivery is good and he displays the most interesting emotions. Especially in combination with Durin IV it's an enjoyable performance to watch. Notable is also Markella Kavenagh as Nori, who brings a lot of heart into her role.

My least favourite performance is probably Ismael Cruz Cordova as Arondir, who seems to have the same facial expression throughout the two episodes.

Writing

The writing and directing is, together with the weak character design, the weakest part of these two episodes so far, but unfortunately it's also the most important part:

The story and character treatment has many issues I will describe further below. The dialogue feels clunky at times, especially when its Elves talking. While I understand that they tried to give the Elves a certain way of speaking that probably tries to mimic Tolkien's beautiful prose, it sometimes tries too hard and too much. The best example is probably the following excerpt:

" Do you know why a ship floats and a stone cannot? Because the stone sees only downward. The darkness of the water is vast and irresistible. The ship feels the darkness as well, striving moment by moment to master her and pull her under. But the ship has a secret. For unlike the stone, her gaze is not downward but up. Fixed upon the light that guides her, whispering of grander things than darkness ever knew." – The Rings of Power, Episode 1

There are also times where it works, but the times it doesn't are more memorable because I had to stop and go back once or twice to understand what they tried to say in their convoluted way.

And last but not least: language. Something that should be vital to any series that tries to tackle Tolkien, yet here we are in a series with some really basic mistakes: we see at least two instances between Elves where they switch to Elvish for a couple of lines and then go back to seaking English. ... why? Aren't they normally speaking Elvish and it was just translated to English for the viewer? Apparently not. Then why are they speaking English anyway? Did anyone even thing about this? Why is this not addressed when it's hinted at?

More details about the writing I will discuss in the story section.

The Story

The Intro

The intro of the show takes about 8 minutes of the first episodes, and it was my first big disappointment. While it works as a short summary of the history and gives a good insight into Galadriel's current situation, it is also filled with small details that are simply frustrating for me as a fan of Tolkien's writings.

There is, once again, the repurposing of character lines right at the beginning of the show: "Nothing is evil in the beginning" is said by Galadriel as the first line of the first episode, yet it is Elrond's line in Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. And so far, this line stands without connection at the beginning and there is no follow up to it.

The first scene we see is Galadriel getting bullied by other Elf-children. The first of those children to speak sounds rather like Draco Malfoy than an Elf-child. It kind of sets the tone of how the Elves will be portrayed in these two episodes (and possibly in the whole first season).

Galadriel's conversation with her brother not only is written with weird metaphors (see above), it's also is illogical at times. "I won't always be here to speak them to you", her brother says to Galadriel, and she is surprised. In a voice over she than explains that they had no word for death – but then why does her brother believe he won't always be there? There are other instances like this, so I want to mention this one as an example.

The plot of the First Age is very quickly summaries with a few sentence. It's not very accurate, so not going too much into details is probably the best. The visuals combine several images that could belong to various different battles: the War or Wrath, the Dagor Bragollach, and the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. There are some really impressive shots here, but half of them had already revealed by the teasers. Since there is not really much more there, I think it was a mistake to use them in the teaser.

There is a shot of Galadriel on the battlefield after the battle is over, and she just wearing a delicate white dress while walking through the mud. It's a distracting in this moment because all I could think about was "who on earth picks clothes like these to go to a lost battlefield..."

After the intro part, the episode then transitions to the main storylines of these two episodes, starting with:

Amazon's Galadriel and her quest for revenge

Galadriel's storyline is probably the most frustrating to watch, because out of the four storylines it's one of the two where the character names actually come from Tolkien.

However, there is not much else left that could be attributed to Tolkien beside the names. Amazon's Galadriel shows neither the greatness nor the nobility nor the ambition nor the wisdom that were central to Tolkien's Galadriel. Instead she is brash, inconsiderate and driven by revenge.

She spends the 1st episode as the Cassandra in the story - warning everyone of Sauron's return, but nobody seems to listen. But there is never a good reason given as to why everyone ignores her – instead, apparently most Elves have forgotten the pain of the past, Galadriel's men think it's too dangerous to search any further in the North, Elrond has no better reason than Gil-galad-said-so, Gil-galad actually knows Galadriel is right but apparently prefers to deny reality.

This leads to Galadriel basically getting shipped of into the West against her will – massively breaking the lore because it ignores the Ban of the Valar completely. Seeing the ship almost reaching Valinor wasn't as impressive for me as the creators probably would have liked, because it's not earned: in Tolkien's Middle-earth, sailing West is a personal choice, it's not something any Elven-king can hand out as a gift or keep from any Elf. It certainly shouldn't be used to remove the uncomfortable political opposition. It has no emotional weight because while the no-name-Elves in the background are all very happy, Galadriel obviously doesn't want to be there. Which is why she eventually decides to turn back by jumping into the sea. This decision is absolutely nonsenical, because anyone with half a brain would then expect to drown and die. This storyline may be impressive visually, but it's purely build on dump decisions by Gil-galad (+Elrond) and Galadriel.

Galadriel of course doesn't die, most of the 2nd episode she spends with not drowing, and during that she gets aquaintend with the human man Halbrand. About Halbrand there is not much to say yet – this episode mainly brings these two characters together for further story development in the following episodes. The other humans in these scenes are quickly forgotten, and only used for a quick example of human racism against Elves.

Galadriel is not the only mischaracterised Tolkien character here: with Gil-galad it's even worse. He is one of the biggest disappointments because he is an unsatisfying combination of being miscast, having a flawed character design and being written completely unsympathetically: Amazon's Gil-galad is a it patronising, lets Elrond write his speaches, and ignores Galadriel's warnings even though he knows she is right. The idea of trying to pretend the thing he doesn't want to be true will go away simply by ignoring it is directly contradicting Tolkien's writings, since there Gil-galad was one of the first to notice the growing shadow, and one of the first who tried to do something against it. I truly hate Amazon's portrayal of this character so far.

Other little things that caught my attention:

Climbing ice mountains with metal gloves is a stupid idea.

The fight scene against the snow troll is really really bad, especially because it seems to be so easy for Galadriel, and everyone else is just standing around doing nothing.

I'm curious what Galadriel's plan would have been if they would have found Sauron at some point during that mission. Did she plan to fight him one-on-one? If he had Orcs with him, would his not-so-merry band of Elves be enough to take them on?

All in all, this plotline was frustrating and dumb in the first episode, and got boring in the second one.

Amazon's Elrond and the Dwarves

Amazon's Elrond, as mentioned above, has the advantage of an endearing performance by the actor, but he simply is not convincing as an Elf – or as Tolkien's Elrond at this point in time.

Watching his scenes with Galadriel was frustrating because although they claim to be friends they don't really seem to understand each other at all. Elrond seems to act, more or less, on behalf of Gil-galad, which Galadriel resents. She is unkind in these conversations, and Elrond deliberately ignores that her concerns are valid - Galadriel has found some proof for her claims after all. And since I'm not a fan of Amazon's Gil-galad, I dislike the scenes of Elrond with him as well.

A recurring element here is also the attitude of the Elves – Elrond is not included in a council meeting because it's "Elf-lords only". ...who among the Eldar would refuse to count the immortal son of Eärendil, grandson of King Dior, great-grandson of King Turgon, among the Elf-lords? That's just absurd, but continues what was shown right at the start of the intro: the Elves as stuck-up bullies.

Elrond becomes a lot more interesting once he is in the company of the Dwarves. For me, his relationship with Durin IV was the only emotional storyline that really interested me and that felt like there was actually some depths to these characters. Incidentally, the issue of the Elvish immortality compared to the rather short life of a Dwarf (250 years on average, according to Tolkien) is one of the few moments where the show actually picks up on a Tolkien-related storyline. Had something like this story been front and center I would have been much more invested in the this two-parter. While the initial refusal of Durin IV to speak with Elrond and the following Rite are a bit cringe, the scenes that follow work quite well.

Durin IV and Disa are used well in this context. Durin III, while looking very Dwarvish, is less welcome because he really shouldn't be there without breaking another part of Tolkien's lore. But who is counting anymore at this point, I guess...? What is not clear is why Elrond ignored Durin IV. I mean, surely he got an invetation to Durin IV's marriage or the birth of his children. Even if time feels a bit different to Elrond, he still should know about the importance of such occations and that one can't just come a coupld of years later to them?

For this storyline I also have to quickly mention Celebrimbor. He is not well casted in my eyes because he simply does not look the Elf-part at all. And apparently Celebrimbor is aware of that: he has decided that he quickly has to build a large tower, until spring, because apparently he has no time left to be patient for no further explained reasons? If there is peace now, why can't Gil-galad's Elves help? Shouldn't Celebrimbor be a Lord in his own right in Eregion? What are all his Elves doing? WHAT ARE THE GWAITH-I-MÍRDAIN DOING? Anyway, Celebrimbor and Elrond seem to walk from Ost-in-Edhil all the way to Moria on foot, and Celebrimbor still wears his long costume and that's just funny to me. So far nothing that they have done with this character works for me.

Some little notes:

Fëanor's hammer in this series looks like a toy. Please don't show or mention it again.

The close-up reaction shots of the Dwarves during the Sigin-tarâg are just really uncomfortable to watch. This is one of the times where the editing draws attention to itself – and this is always a negative thing.

Overall, this is the storyline that works best in these two episodes. It's not ideal by any means, but at least it has a bit potential. Just keep Elrond away from Gil-galad and never show Celebrimbor again...

Arondir and Bronwn

Arondir, Bronwyn and Theo are one of the two storylines that have no foundation in Tolkien's writings at all so far. The characters are an Amazon invention, the location where the story is set is only vaguely defined, and the story itself is going nowhere known so far. It is most likely a setup for something bigger, but at the moment this part of the series is among the most boring parts to watch.

Arondir is the most uninteresting character to me, thanks to the writing and acting. His romance with Bronwyn hasn't had much chance to be developed and their scenes together show them mostly in a state of awkwardness or miscommunication. Nothing there makes me invested in their relationship.

Arondir's plotline mostly seems to emphasis once more that Elves are stuck-up bullies. So these human people have lived there for 1000 years, peacefully, but the Elves still keep a military presences there because they don't trust them? How lovely. There is a scene between Arondir and another Elf that tries to reinforce just how badly the Elves think of these people. "The blood of those who stood with Morgoth still darkens their veins", this Elf says, and that they had to be watched over not because of what their ancestors did but "because of who they still are" and "be grateful that you need never see them again". OKAY, WE GET IT. This scene is horribly forced and annoying exposition, because there is no need to tell Arondir this if he has been stationed there for 79 years. Take your indoctrination somewhere else please.

The humans on the other hand call Arondir "knife-ears", which is also racist but probably understandable after 1000 years or mistrust and control because of the ancestor's crimes. It's not very fitting for Arondir though, his ears are barely pointy...

Anyway. The Elves here also pretend everything is okay now, everything evil has somehow vanished despite there being signs that it's just around the corner, and it makes everyone look stupid. Before declaring peace on earth, maybe check around the next corner?

Some other little things that annoyed me:

When Arondir comes into the village, he has his hood so deep drawn in his face that it's hard to see how he can see where he's going. It looks ridiculous, put the hood further back, please.

Arondir has been promoted as a Silvan elf, yet he is under the command of the High King of the Noldor? How? Why? Since when did Gil-galad's kingdom ever go past the Misty Mountains in the East or the Isen in the South. Surely not as far as East of the Sea of Núrnen. Why did the show make Arondir a Silvan Elf and then just ignore a majority of the Silvan culture? Silvan Elves didn't want to get involved with the Noldor, they stayed in their own little corners.

Bronwyn has a Cassandra moment in the 2nd episode, similar to Galadriel in the 1st episode. I think it would have been better if Theo had been the one to do it this time, because now it just feels a bit obvious in regards to what the message is supposed to be...

The cut from when Bronwyn kills the Orc to where she slams the head of the Orc on the table is really really bad.

There is more, but I have to stop somewhere. Theo could also be discussed, but frankly there is not much to say about him aside from the fact that Orcs digging tunnels under his house sounds like mice to him, and that he found a sword and is possibly being possessed at the end? Either way, I can't bring myself to care for the boy.

Nori and Meteor Man

The storyline that is probably furthest away from Tolkien's 2nd Age is the HobbitsHarfoots storyline (trying to convince anyone that Harfoots aren't Hobbits is laughable, so let's just note that they are Hobbits. At least they are not yet in Eriador but somewhere in Rhovanion).

The focus is on Nori, a HobbitHarfoot with an Elvish name. The scenes with her and her family and friends are charming in a way, but I also don't have much to say about it because while watching it I mostly wondered where the point of all this was.

The point comes in form of Meteor Man at the end of the first episode: Nori finds him and decides to take care of him, and from then on her storyline becomes less interesting. Her interaction with Meteor Man is simply not particulary interesting, because Meteor Man himself is not particually interesting at this moment. It's a setup for something further down the line, and for itself it doesn't add much to the current state of the story.

As Nori and her friend correctly notice: Meteor Man can neither be Man nor Elf, so he'll most likely be one of the Maiar – probably Gandalf or another of of the Istari, or Sauron – depending on which plottwist route the showrunner will take. Coming as a meteor breaks the lore once more, no matter who it is, so that's annoying. And since we won't get any solution to this riddle any time soon I lost interest in that plotline half into the second episode.

Two small notes:

I quite liked the music that played when Nori first hid Meteor Man and explained to her friend why she was doing it.

In that scene there is the other small hint at a motif from Tolkien: Nori says she somehow knows that this is supposed to happen and that she is supposed to take care of Meteor Man. This is an echo of Gandalf's words to Frodo: "I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought." Which makes the idea that this Meteor Man is Gandalf much more likely.

One question that remains for me when it comes to Nori: her father was hurt wenn he fell, so they said he wouldn't be able to migrate. But in the next scene that we see the HobbitsHarfoots in, Nori says that they'll soon migrate, so... what's with the father now? Is he healed? Did I miss something?

Pacing & story coherence

The show juggles with four storylines in these two episodes, and often a single episode suffers when it is split between more than two storylines: as a result not enough time is spent on each single storyline. Because of this the pacing is usually not that great – while the eisode jumps form storyline to storyline, the viewer has to follow constantly with their attention and emotional investment, and usually that doesn't really work. Whenever the viewer has gotten used to and invested in a storyline, the episode is already heading to the next part.

Another issue with the pacing is the fact that for all of the storylines these two episodes were mostly setup. But there are only eight episodes in this season, so 25% of the season are already spent on setup. At this rate, I'm curious how they want to get to the Last Alliance in five seasons without rushing it, but maybe they'll speed things up in the next episodes.

Conclusion

As an adaptation of Tolkien's stories, these first two episodes completely failed. As a story set in Middle-earth, these first two episodes also fail because they keep ignoring some of the most basic elements of Tolkien's worldbuilding. Of course is can and most likely will change in future episodes or seasons, but we'll see to which extend and in which quality.

As a fantasy series, it's not completely bad, but it's lacking a lot. The pretty visuals can't hide the fact that the characterisations and the overall writing is unconvincing, at times dumb and at other times boring. So far there is nothing smart or subtle about this show.

Most frustrating is the portrayal of the Elvish characters, and the Elves as a people in general. While the Amazon oirignal plotlines my not be particulary interesting, at least they can't get as many things wrong as the Galadriel or Elrond storyline.

Overall it was a disappointing start for this series, both as a show supposedly related to Tolkien's work and as its own work.

#LOTR ROP #LOTR TROP #The Rings of Power #LOTR #LOTR on prime #Amazon LOTR #lotr rop review #TROP spoilers #my stuff

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tootiredmotel · 4 years ago

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For @one-more-offbeat-anthem 's 1k follower celebration. The prompt was "sickfics" and I've never written a sickfic in my life so, naturally, I adapted a scene from one of my comfort movies (Fever Pitch, 2005). HUGE congrats on your milestone love!!!

read on ao3 or below (1.5k words)

Castiel should've known better than to listen to his brother regarding food. They have wildly different palates, and why he agreed to accompany Gabriel to lunch at some newly-opened new-age restaurant with barely any reviews, he'll never know. He wasn't thinking.

He could think even less that night, hunched over the toilet with food poisoning while his date knocked on his apartment door.

As soon as he could, Castiel scrambled to his feet and wobbled over to open it, his over-excitable golden retriever on his heels. Dean stood there in a nice leather jacket, all dapper and first-date-ready with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and it broke Castiel's heart to have to tell him:

"I'm sick."

He was sure it was evident in his eyes, death breath, hair sticking out in all directions from holding his head above the toilet, but he said it anyway.

"I'm really sick, I'm sorry. Come back tomorrow."

Castiel went to close the door, but Dean took a cautious step, bouquet forgotten at his side. "Sick how? You in pain? Do you need anything?"

"I just-" Castiel swallowed forcefully. "I ate at this new restaurant and-"

Just thinking about it made him run to the bathroom again, and he almost didn't make it on time. He barely registered Dean, still at the doorway, say something about Castiel (Cas, he called him) not needing to fake it if he didn't want to go out with him. A few seconds later, the door closed, and Castiel (still puking) thought that was that. He blew it with the handsome schoolteacher, all thanks to his brother's awful culinary taste.

His dog's wasn't so far behind. "Honey, please don't eat that," he reprimanded her, failing to shoo her out of the bathroom.

When he felt he was done, for the time being at least, he tried to stand. He was weak, and for a second he thought he might split his head open on the toilet seat, but then Dean was there, hands on his waist, helping him up. "I got you," said Dean, over and over again, and Castiel believed him.

Dean helped him to his bed where he tried to sit him down, but Castiel must've been weaker than he thought. He flopped backward, and then Dean cautiously lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath.

"Thank you."

"Got some more comfortable clothes? Something to sleep in?"

It's then Cas remembered he was already dressed for the date, slacks and a white button-up (probably grossly stained, he hated to think), and pointed Dean to a drawer.

A second later Dean was gently hoisting him back to his feet, strong hands at his sides, saying "Here, I'll help you change. Promise I won't look. Too much, I won't look too much."

And that actually made Castiel chuckle.

Dean unbuckled and took off his slacks first, replacing them with sweatpants. It was a slow, quiet process, and Dean only spoke up after he'd taken off Castiel's tie and shirt. "Alright, I gotta be honest, I'm looking. Sorry, Cas."

Cas couldn't help another chuckle. Dean was incredibly respectful through it all, careful not to touch any skin unless he had to, which was mostly to keep Cas from falling over. He slipped a t-shirt onto him and laid Cas back down on the bed, this time with his head where it was supposed to be. That's when things started to blur, when his head hit the pillow.

"I don't think there's anything left in there, but just in case..."

Cas, through hazy vision, noticed Dean putting his empty hamper next to the bed. He thanked him, repeatedly. Cas isn't sure how many times he said it, over and over again, thank you.

"Hey, no, you just get some rest," was the last thing Cas heard Dean say before he was out like a light.

Cas suspects he briefly regained consciousness three times during that night.

The first time, he's sure of. He felt a hand on his shoulder, slowly coaxing him awake. "Here," Dean said softly, placing a bottle of Gatorade with a straw in it on the nightstand. "Drink this if you can, alright? Get your strength back." Cas nodded and fell back asleep.

The second time was more questionable, and he only knows it was real because he saw the results of it in the morning. He slowly awoke on his own and saw Dean in his bathroom across from his bedroom door, wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing away at the toilet with a sponge. Cas tried to stop him, tell him no, please, you don't have to do that, really, but couldn't help sleep drag him back down before he could get the words out.

The third time is the most unbelievable. Borderline fantastical. If it was real, he might just have to marry this guy.

Cas thinks he saw Dean brushing Honey's teeth.

Out of everything that happened the night before, that is all he can think about as he steps out of the shower in the morning. He plans to call Dean, send a fruit basket to his school, invite him on the best date of his life to repay him for all he did, and ask him. It's going to sound ridiculous, did you brush my dog's teeth or did I hallucinate that, and Dean will probably turn down his invite. If not for the hell he went through that night, then for Cas being insane.

And then Cas finds Dean asleep on his couch, Honey snuggled into his side. And yeah, he's probably going to marry this guy. This schoolteacher who happened to pick him and his office as a field trip destination for his math kids. This adorable guy that came back later that same day, thanked him for getting through to the kids (which Cas didn't think he had, but he digresses), and then asked him out. This unbelievably sweet guy that Cas initially rejected, god knows why, but then called at his school and left a message for, Saturday at seven, here's my address, because he couldn't get him off his mind. This caring, thoughtful, heaven-sent guy who showed up with flowers, now in a vase on his dining table, found Cas with food poisoning and proceeded to take care of him, his dog, and his apartment the rest of the night.

Before Cas can think about marrying him again (which he was going to, the hopeless romantic), Honey startles and jumps off the couch, waking Dean. Cas doesn't move, just watches as Dean sits up, notices him, then sits up straighter.

"Hey! Hey, how you feeling?" Dean asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. He put products in his hair for the date, Cas notices, because it's now stiffly and adorably messed up.

"Much better. I won't be entering any pie-eating contests any time soon, though."

"Too bad. That was my next date idea."

Cas smiles, the words next date making his heart flutter in his ribcage. His question pops back into his mind.

"Did you, um..." Don't ask about the dog, he'll think you're crazy. He decides to go with "Did you clean my bathroom last night?" even though he knows the answer.

"Me? No."

Well. Cas thought he knew the answer. Probably dreamed it too. But then who-

"The vomit elves came in," Dean continues. "Real cute. Little hats, miniature vomit bags, adorable. Efficient too."

Cas is stuck somewhere between smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, and shaking his head while rolling his eyes. "Did the elves brush Honey's teeth too?"

"Oh no, that one was me."

And that has Cas laughing in earnest. At the sound of her name, Honey came bouncing back, settling next to Dean on the couch.

"Not letting the little bastards take credit for that one. This sweetheart loves me, and I earned that myself," Dean says, scratching Honey between her ears, enraptured.

"Dean, thank you." At that, Dean looks up. "Thank you. You could've just left, but you chose to stay. And you went above and beyond. Thank you."

Dean looks away and stands, trying to play it off with a wave of his hand. "Nah, it was nothing."

"It was everything," Cas says stepping forward, placing a beckoning hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean finally looks at him with a barely-there smile and a gaze that wants to escape, but he fights for it to stay on Castiel's face. Cas is glad he does, because he needs Dean to see, understand, how grateful he is.

"I uh... I got you these." Dean reaches for a paper bag on the coffee table, and that's when Cas takes his hand off his shoulder. "Some movies."

"Such as?"

"Mostly anime porn," Dean says, and Cas is doing it again, the chuckling/eye roll/head shake combo. "And some stuff I like to watch when I'm not doing great."

"Well, for me that would be documentaries."

"Wait." Dean blinks. "What? What did you say?"

"Documentaries. Preferably environmental, or perhaps historical in nature."

"No way, you're not gonna believe this," Dean says, a bit too much surprise on his face. "This is insane dude, check this out..."

He reaches into the bag, and Cas half believes he's about to pull out a copy of Disney's Earth. He's delighted to be wrong.

"Roadhouse."

Cas laughs again, and the beaming smile on Dean's face is what convinces him. He is definitely going to marry this guy.

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icyteaa · 4 years ago

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TCF HEADCANON

[Being alive is the best, isn't it?]

Part 1

White Star, their worst enemy that tries to bring despair to the world, have been defeated. Everyone on the battlefield saw his body slowly fall from above with root as big as a dagger stabbed his heart. And without them knowing the reason, the body gradually disappeared; like ash that swapped away by the wind. Left beautiful white embers in the air.

But there is no one who could shout to celebrate their victory. Nor they can hug each other out of the overwhelming feeling. It's like there is something chocking their throat and their body stiffly stands as their head focuses on the body that falls together with the enemy; it's their hero, Commander Cale Henituse.

The weak and pale body slowly fell after smiling when he finally defeated the enemy. But there is not a single one who was happy to see their dear hero fall as the last thing the alliance armies could see was the closest comrades of the hero shouting his name while rushed toward the unconscious body.

The one who was always beside Cale, Raon, panicked when he saw the body falls. But grown up to be more mature and composed in this kind situation, he didn't just freeze as he cast his human body so he could fall smoothly while Raon tried to communicate with all his family that rushed toward Cale to find the person that maybe could heal him soon, Saint Jack.

They were all transported toward one of the buildings in Puzzle city where Saint Jack healing the allied armies who were wounded while clashing on the battlefield. Everyone was crowded in the room where Cale tried to be healed by Jack. They felt as much pain as they saw their idiot young master that always sacrificed himself wail in pain while he fainted. All his body was filled with his own blood. There is a hole in his chest, where exactly the root had stabbed to his heart before; the sacrifice Cale should endure to make the weapon to kill White Star.

No, they didn't even know it was possible. And again, Cale always makes himself take all the heavy responsibility in his weak shoulder.

The only ones who didn't present there were Alberu and Rosalyn, because they should let all his subordinates, armies and mages know their victory. Calm the innocent citizen that felt terror because of this battle, and announce to all people that they had killed their worst enemy that could make this world filled with despair.

"I... couldn't heal him." All eyes move toward the Saint that uses his power in the last fifteen minutes to heal Cale. His body slumped as his breath got messy and irregular; his face and back full of sweat, but his eyes focused toward the red head that still didn't get any better even if Jack had used all his power. Why?— he felt so frustrated. Jack can even heal creatures with death attribute now, then why can't he heal the one who has the righteous qualified to be healed? Why is someone who always helps everyone, someone with a very good deed, should endure this pain alone?

Jack can feel someone putting their hand on his shoulder. He turned towards the person. It was Choi Han who was mute himself until now. He could feel the cryptic tremble in the man's hand, but Jack shut himself when he saw the serious look on Choi Han's face. "What do you think, Eruhaben-nim?" Everyone's eyes turned again toward the golden hair that just standing in front of the bed side with eyes just focuses toward the unlucky kid that he is always fond of. He sighed and closed his eyes tightly, "We can't do anything about him."

Everyone gets chaotic when they hear it. Especially the kids: Raon, On and Hong, who are already crying as they surrounded their beloved parental figure. But Eruhaben makes them shut again with his magic. They can see the same frustrated looks in the ancient dragon as he explained more, "I thought because the Saint's power gets stronger than before now, he can do something about it. But it looks like Cale needs to heal himself."

Eruhaben continued as he saw serious looks in everyone's faces focused towards him. "The situation in his body is really a mess right now. All his ancient powers were deemed because they tried to let his restoration power work as fast as possible. But because his heart, where the restoration power is placed, got damaged, it will not be easy." He turned toward Cale again when the man grunted with pain, "What we can do now is wait. He will pass out as long as he needs to heal himself. Just like anytime he fainted before."

Everyone wasn't satisfied with this situation, of course. But just like Eruhaben said, there is nothing they can do. Even after Alberu came with the best royal doctors Roan Kingdom has, the only thing they can do is treat the wound in Cale's chest with the hope that it will make the progress of Cale's restoration get faster.

The banquet was held as a celebration of their victory a few days later. As a face of the kingdom that contributes the most, Alberu the Crown Prince, Rosalyn as commander of mage brigades and a few commanders of their armies, as well as the head of another kingdom such as Toonka, Valentino, Litana and Jopis, need to attend the banquet even if they don't feel like they are winning already. Not before their hero woke up from his long collapse.

Everyone wants to know what their hero, Cale's condition is, especially because rumours have circulated about what sacrifice Cale's pull to kill the enemies. But Alberu keeps the information just for a few closest comrades and Cale's family. Cale's body is transported to the royal palace so the doctors can keep in check with Cale's condition, and Alberu lets the children as well as Cale's other comrades; Choi Han, Molans duo, Eruhaben, Mary, Rosalyn and Lock to stay in the palace as long as they want.

They felt worried, of course. But because this case—where Cale fainted for a very long time isn't the first time they have gone through, they can feel a bit calm now. Because Cale always woke up. Their family still breath. Their precious young master started to heal himself. They can wait as long as needed if it means they can see the tender, lazy AF but caring Cale waking up one day. That's too what makes the children still eat their meals properly and take care of their own health. They didn't want Cale to see them sick when he woke up.

One month. Cale is still in bed, fainting; breathing slowly and healing slowly too. The wound healed slower than the doctors predicted. It was assumed because the root Cale stabbed to his chest, not just any roots. But still, Cale makes progress.

The children are always beside him. Just wake up when they need to take a bath or get their meals. They like to feel a vague warm Cale gush from his body. Not as warm as he woke up, but still made them comfortable. Give them hope he will wake up someday.

Ron always takes care of Cale's body. Keeps him clean and changes his clothes once a day. He keeps Cale nutrients with infusion the doctors gave. Take care of Cale's hair as it is and cut it when the hair gets longer. Ron and Baecrox too were the ones who take care of their family who want to stay on Cale's side.

Choi Han always stands beside the bed or in front of the room to keep Cale safe. Alberu said Choi Han didn't need to do it because the guard had protected this palace, but he felt uneasy. Choi Han worried about Cale that it would make him want to stand or do something. The only thing he can do now is stand guard, to keep away from the bad thought about why he can keep Cale safe and why Cale never told them about his extreme method of stabbing himself. Choi Han had firm his resolve to keep Cale in check more thoroughly, so Cale can't do the same thing again in the future.

Eruhaben just stays still on the bed side. His eyes turned toward Cale or the window nearest him. Cursing the kid that always had unlucky fate but still refused when they told him to take a proper rest. He felt dumbfounded by himself; the thought of losing someone he is fond of really makes me uneasy. He was contemplating their conversation when Cale said, someday he will want to be healthy and have a long life. And now, Eruhaben wants it. He wants to see the children as well as the family formed—the gods know from when—and stay on their side. It's an amusing feeling, but Eruhaben admitted it's not bad.

Rosalyn, Lock and Mary did not stay as long as the others did. Rosalyn, as one of the heroes with the most contribution, is accepted as the new head of Magic Tower that will be built in a free city between Roan Kingdom and Mogoru Empire. That is why she is very busy right now. But still, she will take time to stop by in Cale's room.

Lock went back to the Forest of Darkness after a week. He still has siblings he should take care of. But everyone who stayed told him they would take care of Cale well so he could rest assured. That's the case for Mary too. She went back to the Underground City to help the dark elf to build another city on the surface because Valentino had agreed to give the restricted place for elves under Roan Kingdom territory.

Alberu is one of the busiest person right now. He wants to change the kingdom into an empire and there are lots of administrative things he should arrange to do it. He will keep busy with the coronation as the first emperor of the Roan Empire too after that. It makes him have migraines sometimes, but he always had time to stop by Cale's room with a box full of cookies. He felt a bit easier when he saw the cheerful looks on children's faces. Of course, as a sworn brother, he felt worried about his stupid sacrificial dongsaeng, but he would just stare at Cale and curse in his breath without sound. He didn't want the children to feel down if he mentioned all his complaints to their father figure.

Everyone who fought with Cale on the battlefield stopped in Cale's palace as much as they could. It just shows how much Cale had reached everyone's hearts without him even realizing. Saint Jack and Hannah come by often too. One day they brought the news about the coronation of Rex as the first emperor from a commoner family. It was controversial but at least the citizens of Mogoru Empire themselves had accepted it because there is no one who qualified more than him when it comes to saving them from the incident made by their former Imperial Prince, Adin.

Three months. It was very long for them, but Cale still remains the same. The wound in Cale's chest is closed now, but Eruhaben said inside Cale's body is still a mess. The clashes between ancient powers when he fought with White Star affected Cale's body and needed time to heal. It's okay, they tried to assure each other. They remember too, when the incident where they met White Star for the first time, it took Cale 3 months too to wake up. And Eruhaben said Cale was getting better. So it should be okay.

Everything except that remained the same. Everyone stopped by and went again. They have conversations, especially with children, to make their high spirit not go down and tell them to take care of themselves. Cale's family came by too with Raon's help. But time goes by and Cale is not awake even if everyone waits.

Six months. It felt too long already. Cale never fainted for this long time. It makes them worry. But doctors said his condition is getting better. But until when?— the older ones keep their worries on their own, because they know it will just make Raon, On and Hong feel more down. The children keep asking why their human is still not awake, but there is no one who can answer. They miss—miss Cale so much; the caressed Cale gave when they went to sleep, the warm Cale illuminated, his tender voice, and everything. They miss them all.

But still, Cale remains silent; laying down in bed with a slow breath. Still not move one inch or open his eyes. Cale was transported to the Super Rock Villa after six months. The main reason is because there is nothing royal doctors can do because Cale's body condition is at his finest already. His inside is the one that still needs recovery and it's not the thing medic can help.

The other reason is, they want Cale to feel as if he is at home. The children said maybe it will make him awake. Because he will miss their home, as much as others miss him.

>> continue <<

Next to part 2

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autisticcole · 3 years ago

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Why I Dislike The Idea That Solas Was A Spirit At Some Point

The Too Long Didn’t Read version is that I feel that removing him formally being just a normal elf removes one of the most tragic aspects of him and makes him more removed from the stakes of his story.

But here’s the long version.

Firstly it doesn’t really work with how he avoids out right lying but said he was from a town, hell we know that town existed at some point and that it is now ruins, why would a spirit say he grew up in a town when he was actually living in the fade? Like I’m sure the theories go into this but it always strikes me as a weak point in the whole thing.

Also with how he talks about spirits it really does sound more like an outsider who just has a good understanding instead of a member of the group. Like in Cole’s quest he doesn’t seem to really understand what Cole is, acting like Cole is still just purely a Spirit despite that really not being the case. Like you could say that maybe he was being protective of Cole since he knows what it’s like long term, but in that case I don’t know why he’d not know at all what was stopping the binding from working.

(There is also how spirit to motel stuff works, so far the ones we know of took on the form (& I think personality) of a mortal that existed before them, that’s mean there was a elf named Solas whom would have been replaced by this Spirit)

Now onto why I prefer the idea he was once a normal elf.

In short it makes him more like one of the pc’s, starting out mostly normal but do having great power he was noticed, raised above others and put in a place of power to change his world, he then had to fight a system much bigger than himself, likely with a few close allies only to after trying to save the day be remembered by his title instead of his name.

Does that not sound like what happens to our pc’s in these games? The only things that mark him as different is that we haven’t played as him and he failed, The Dread Wolf failed to save his people, he failed to save his fellow elf and now is remembered as a monster.

Hell the da4 teaser points out him being like the da4 pc with him commenting on how he is called the dread wolf and then asking what they will be called, he is well aware he is like the warden, like hawke, like the inquisitor, like the newest hero. I like to think he sees a bit himself in them.

I also feel that making him a Spirit removes his stakes in what happens to the elves, like it puts him higher above them (which is already an issue with his story and how removed he is from the modern elves) so making him even more removed by not truly starting off as an elf rubs me wrong

(it kinda reminds me of that Avatar movie where a guy takes over a body of local (like a body made in a lab to look like a local) to the planet to do something and then ends up saving said people from his fellow humans and then stays in the body that was made for him in a lab)

I just feel that while Spirits are impotent to Solas (he talks about how in his youth he spent most of his time in his dreams due to how much he preferred them to the world outside the fade) he isn’t one, nor was he. I feel like long ago he was a nobody like the warden or hawke and then ended up important without even really meaning to like inquisitor, he wanted to save his people, the elves and he failed.

Now all of this is to say why I dislike the idea, but really I could see the writers taking it the way of the theory, do I think that would be a good idea? No I think it’d only make the issue of how Solas treats fellow elves even worse and would remove some of the tragic aspect he has if he had just been normal before, but like it does seem like a thing they’d do & I know fans would take it in some interesting ways.

#solas #dai meta #my meta #dragon age meta #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #solas meta #I could more into the flaws of how Solas treats his fellow elves but #1. I feel like others have done that better and I don't really want to write that meta #& 2. it goes into the naive coding of the elves & I'm a white candain dude aka the last person to talk about that in da #i'd rather share what naive fans have said on the topic since they have more info & context than I ever really will

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misterewrites · 4 years ago

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Intro to Caitlyn 101 (Mirror’s Edge)

Summary: Caitlyn is a thief looking for the next big score. Used to taking wristwatches and wallets from rich folk, she's aiming to take down bigger game as she discovers the hidden magical world within her hometown. Her first mark is an unassuming shopkeeper and his collect of ancient relics. All set with a plan, Caitlyn makes her move. Though plans rarely go off without a hitch.

Hello everyone! E here, hoping you are all well and staying safe. So the next chapter of my little side project is here! Honestly wasn't planning on getting back to this so soon but I was having fun worldbuilding and character creating and here we are. You can blame my friend @hains-mae for enabling me.

Right so the next thing I write will probably be the part two to this then the next chapter of the Underground. Umm that's really it for me so have a great week, be safe, wear your mask, take care of yourself and your loved ones. Please feel free to reblog, share, leave kudos or leave comments with things you liked or feedback if you read it on a03. I promised I'd try to promote myself more and it feels weird haha.

E is out, have a great one everyone! and here’s the link to the doobly do

---> https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/76014323

There was an arrogance that seemed deeply etched into every aspect of the magical world. She stood among valuable, ancient relics from throughout human history: Vases from Greece lined the shelf above her. A row of Roman gladius blades in various states of decay with only a flimsy glass case between them and Caitlyn’s pocket. Tarnished Victorian era slivered lockets left about like loose change.

Millions dollars worth of the past and she, a stranger, was left unattended with it all.

Technically she wasn’t supposed to be in here with the locked door and close sign but the fact in the 5 minutes it took her to pick the lock and scout the first floor without a single soul attempting to stop her really was a testimony to the haughtiness of the ‘shopkeeper’.

It had been only few months since she saw past the false reality that was superimposed onto hers and she was still readjusting: Magic was real. Elves, dwarves, little halfing folk? Real. People shooting bolts of lightning and flames while riding storm clouds? Real. The guy who kept awkwardly hitting on her every time she tried to get a hotdog from the cart at the corner? Just a regular creep BUT could’ve been magical.

Even their currency was a show of their excessive wealth: Sliver, gold, platinum coins Actual platinum traded away like it was nothing! People starving and helpless on the streets and these bastards just walked with some of the rarest metal on the planet in their pockets like chump change.

Anger bubbled within her stomach along with self righteousness and a bit of her breakfast but she took a deep calming breath, closing her bluish gray eyes. ‘Calm down Cait’ she scolded herself ‘This isn’t the first time you’ve seen excessive wealth squandered and wasted. You’re here for a job so do it and never come back.’

She glanced around the waiting room she found herself in. It was off to the side of the shopping front andthere were very few things of interest in the tiny room: Some old, tattered chairs that had seen better days. A very, very tacky abstract painting hung over a bricked up fireplace. There was a scattering of magazines older than her with loose stables and free roaming pages everywhere.

A place of show and very little use.

“Hello my angel.”

Caitlyn seized up. She had been so caught up in her rage she hadn’t been paying attention to anyone coming down the stairs. Three stories with a handful of people about and nary a sound could heard. Must be some sort of magic.

She shook herself out of her stupor, slowly exhaling to calm her nerves. She forced her lips to curve into the cutest, lost smile she could muster. She opened her purple jacket a bit further so the guy could get a clearer view of her tight white tank top and running shorts.

“Helpless. Remember you’re helpless.” She whispered to herself before whirling about, her long black hair with dyed purple coloring flowed behind her gracefully as if she was an actress in those stupid hair product commercials.

“Oh!” she spoke with mock surprise, scrunching her face cutely as possible “I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m lost and the door was open and sorry!”

She leaned forward, sheepishly scratching the back of her neck as she gave whoever it was a better view of her outfit.

Hook, line and sinker.

“No problem sweetie. No need to lie to me.”

Hook, line and sunk apparently.

She blinked, unsure if she heard what she thought she heard. She glanced up to find a strangely dressed man with the goofiest grin.

He was cute in a ‘I dress as an obscure, indie character for cosplay’kind of way: His messy, unkempt black hair sat under a black fedora. He wore a long black trench coat that had seen better days. At least he preferred more colors than black on black. His collared shirt was a nice baby blue with an equally nice light brown vest. Black dress pants because men’s fashion is incredibly boring and shiny loafers to completed the look. Whatever the look was.

She expected him to be taking a good look at her attire.

What she found was him staring at her.

His warm dark brown eyes were soft, gentle and he refused to break his gaze from her bluish grays even though there were more tempting sights on offer.

She was on the back foot. No wandering glances, no self pleasured smiles. Not even a creepy chuckle. Just a strangely dressed, inch shorter guy looking like he just found the love of his life in this moment.

“I…” she cleared her throat “Umm….did you hear me?”

He gave a quick nod “Yeah. You broke in and you were trying to cover your tracks.”

It wasn’t that he guessed correctly what was she up to that threw her off. It was how casually he said it. More discussing the weather than committing a felony.

She raised an eyebrow, not sure how to proceed from whatever this was. There were always some people who caught on about her intentions fairly quickly but no one had ever been so….indifferent about it.

“I don’t work here.” the man offered, slowly closing the distance between them but leaving the doorframe wide open “I really don’t care that you’re here to rob the place.”

This has to be a trap. This had to be. No one was ever this….laidback. Were the other goons on the side waiting to jump her when she bolted? Was she on camera and he was letting her go knowing full well he had all the evidence he needed to track her down?

Or maybe he really didn’t care. He seemed more interested in talking than stopping her and there was this strange presence about him. A calm she’d never felt before even when her parents were alive. It was odd and foreign to her but she felt safe. Protected.

She shook her head, slowly inching closer to the doorway. The man made no attempt stop her. He just stood there, smiling, hands in his pocket.

The rational part of her brain said to run. This whole thing was botched and it was better to cut her losses than find out first hand what magical creatures could do to her. The less rational side of her head told her to wait, to talk this guy. Lying was obviously pointless but she had a feeling he would answer any questions she’d had and she had plenty.

“So…” she rose a suspicious eyebrow “Not gonna stop me?”

He shook his head “I wish you’d stay but I understand if you don’t want to be found in Andor’s shop. He’s one of those new elves. Less honor more power.”

She blinked. He said elves right? Just threw it out there like it was an everyday matter of fact and not a deeply held secret of her hometown.

“Elves aren’t real.’ Caitlyn said matter of fact.

“We both know better than that.” The man gave a bright smile.

“What do you want?”

The words spilled out of her mouth despite her best attempts but this guy was throwing her off so badly she forgot how to function.

“Talk to you of course.”

The worst kind of people were the sincere ones. They were sappy and gooey. They just so happy it was sickening. They had to be up to something. They had to some scheme or scam or something they were waiting to drop on you. No one was that happy, that purely honest. They were the liars who were so good they convinced themselves they were good people. No one was good and everyone had a dark corner in their soul they hid from the world.

Caitlyn knew she had plenty in whatever was left of her ratty soul.

“And if we talk? Will you let me go?”

The man nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Caitlyn licked her lips anxiously “Promise?”

Promise? What was she 12? No one kept their promises. Not even her.

He placed his hand over his heart “Cross my heart.”

“Let’s talk,”

He jerked his head towards the door “Outside. Don’t want you to ruin your heist.”

-----

Today was not going how she was expecting. She was thought she was going to break into an elf ran front, scout the area and come back in the middle of the night. She hadn’t been expecting to have coffee and bread with a random stranger on the street.

Well she had coffee, mystery man opted for hot chocolate.

They stood in a strangely comfortable silence a block from Andor’s. The man offered to pay for whatever she wanted and she took him up on it. Couple of baked goods, a sandwich for lunch, some water and of course her cup of wake up juice. If he was mad at her for her splurging at his expense, he hid it well. He just took his coco and some fancy elvish bread. Looked good but Caitlyn wasn’t up for trying other beings food. She didn’t know how it would sit with her stomach.

The elf who ran the cart, a few months ago human to her, waved goodbye to the pair as he counted the human cash the man gave him.

The trench coat cosplay stood patiently, sipping his drink and waited for her to break the silence.

She refused to break the silence first. Not wanting to sound too eager. Eagerness was a weakness and this guy was already throwing her off her rhythm.

“I’m Finnrick by the way.”

She turned to him, unsure if he was messing with her or not.

He gave her the same goofy smile “Finnrick Drift, private investigator.”

“Ah huh.” She nodded slowly “So you’re a magical P.I.? Like elves cheating on their wives, dwarves dodging their taxes P.I.?”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged his shoulders “Ironically elves like dodging on their taxes more than dwarves.”

“Right.”

“You’re new to the whole other side of Newton Haven huh?”

She glanced at her coffee “Lived here my whole life. Really makes me wonder if I lost my mind.”

“Don’t worry, we’re all mad here Alice.”

Why was she talking to him? Why was she being honest? This was weirder and getting weirder every passing second.

Finnrick changed subject “So, robbing Andor? Any particular loot you are after?”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes “Trying to fish something out of me Finny?”

“Guilty as charged” He beamed with pure happiness “Don’t want you wasting your time on shiny trinkets he cares nothing about.”

Caitlyn remained silent. She wasn’t used to such transparency. Normally this would be the point where the guy would lie or pretend to not have heard or awkwardly switch the subject but Finnrick answered openly and honestly. So far.

“So” Caitlyn straightened up, pulling her jacket wide open “What do you think? Great outfit right?”

Finnrick turned to her with a grin, his cheeks turning a pinkish hue as his eyes locked onto hers “Your body is absolutely lovely but your eyes even more so.”

Caitlyn could feel the flush coming. She coughed loudly, focusing on her drink as she willed the embarrassment away.

Finnrick chuckled lightly but returned to his drink. The silence returned, still comfortable as before.

This is was bad whatever this was. She needed to regain some level of control and stop acting like a teenage girl on her first garbage fire of a date.

“So” she cleared her throat “Mister P.I. what would you recommend taking if not all those millions of dollars of historical items he leaves about?”

Finnrick crushed the foam cup effortlessly as he gestured to the third floor of the shop “His office has a pretty simple safe. He keeps loads of paperwork. His various contracts, accounts, treasure hoards”

Caitlyn scoffed in disbelief even though her eyes shone with excitement “Treasure hoards? Elves? I thought dragons were the hoarders. Weren’t elves supposed to be above all that lovely corruption?”

“No one is above corruption.’ Finnrick answered “Elves are just like everyone else.”

Caitlyn crossed her arms and leaned back with a cocky swagger “And why, pray tell, would I care about boring paperwork?”

“Because it really hurt him in the pride.”

Damn Finnrick was good. Not only she was eager to learn more, she could already feel the smug satisfaction of bringing a powerful prick down a peg fill her cause.

Finnrick seemed to notice this because he went on “Andor is a young elf. 100 years give or take.”

“A hundred years is young?”

“When you live a thousand years every other race is a child to you. Andor’s old man is a swell guy. He’s one of those good elves you see in Tolkien.”

“Tolkien?” Caitlyn furrowed her brow “He wrote the books that those Lord of the Rings films are based on right?”

“Yeah actually.”

“Oh and the Hob…”

“We don’t talk about that.” Finnrick quickly added “But see the problem is Andor’s old man doesn’t know his son has become the small time crime lord. Thinks he’s running an antique business selling off old junk that was gathering dust in the family’s attic.”

Something clicked into place for Caitlyn “Wait. Junk from the attic? You mean all those relics on the shop floor?! THAT’S OLD JUNK!?”

Finnrick gave a casual shrug “Elves are weird. Andor don’t know shit about selling, all his money comes from his illegal business practices. That’s how he keeps the shop afloat.”

“I see” Caitlyn spoke, her bluish grays sparkling with mischievous intent “If those records disappeared, his shop sinks and he has to run back home to daddy.”

“And out of the city” Finnrick finished with a smile “And those records are pretty valuable to loads of people. Easier to fence and less messy to explain than a long lost Greek vase showing up in someone’s private collection. You’d get good prices for those hoard locations alone. Better than trying to carry tons of stolen and lost treasure back to your house.”

Caitlyn eyed Finnrick carefully “And you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart? Trying to do your ‘civic’ duty to our fair city?”

“Among other things” Finnrick admitted “But mostly for the greater good.”

“Pfft, greater good? Yeah sure buddy. Like you know what’s the greater good.”

“Will you do it?”

Caitlyn paused, allowing all this information sink in. It was much better than she had planned and while she wasn’t sure of Finnrick’s angle, he seemed honest enough. Of course everyone seems honest enough the first time you meet them.

“Let’s say I do” she spoke, placing her hands on her hips to play the part “What’s in it for you?”

“A favor” He replied simply.

She rose a curious eyebrow “A favor? It’s not date with me, is it?”

“No, I plan to earn that one myself.” Finnrick answered cheerfully.

Caitlyn coughed “Fine, good. Not a date. Least you’re not a creep. But a favor is pretty vague.”

“It’ll be simple I promise.”

Caitlyn narrowed her gaze suspiciously “You promise?”

Finnrick put his hand over his heart again “Cross my heart.”

Caitlyn took a moment, weighing the pros and cons of the situation.

Caitlyn offered her hand towards the trench coat cosplayer “You got yourself a deal.”

He gently took her hand in his own and gave it a firm shake. She was surprised when, as he pulled back, she felt a strange metallic item left behind.

She looked at the crystal butterfly hair clip he placed in her hand: It was a beautiful with sliver hues and multi-colored shards of glass across its wings.

“What’s this?”

“A gift.”

Caitlyn felt uneasy with the ornament in her palm: It felt cold and distant like it was feeling her out and wasn’t liking what it found.

“It’s attuning to you.” Finnrick explained “It’s syncing up to your whole aura.”

“Aura?” Caitlyn shot him a glare of disbelief “This isn’t one of those new age hippie things is it?”

Finnrick shook his head “It’s a magical item. Yours specifically. Everything alive has a deep and very convoluted to explain connection to this plane. The hairclip is trying to match yours so you and only you can use it.”

“It feels wrong.”

“Because it doesn’t know you yet. It will.”

Caitlyn felt unease about whatever this was. Part of her wanted to toss it as far as she could. The worst part was she felt the item probing at her, changing temperatures as if trying find a comfortable setting for both of them. Burning one moment and too cold the next. This was magic and it made her felt like she knew nothing.

But part of her felt it slowly and subtly trying to match her, focusing on her and on her place in the universe. It felt more natural each passing moment and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious what mister detective over here was letting her borrow.

Caitlyn blew a strand of hair out of her face “How long does this usually take?”

“An hour.” Finnrick reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone “Oh shoot I have a meeting to get to.”

He turned to leave and suddenly Caitlyn felt alone. Awkward just standing in the street without someone to talk to.

“Wait!” She reached for him but quickly pulled back when he faced her “….any advice?”

Finnrick scratched his chin for a moment “Red tiles. Avoid them or they’ll blast you off the roof.”

“G-gotcha.” Caitlyn didn’t want to know what blast off the roof was code for “A-and the hairclip? What’s it do?”

Finnrick gave a cheeky grin and Caitlyn could feel her face flush “I guess you’ll have to find out angel. Bye for now. May we meet again soon.”

And like that, he was off. Strolling down the straight with a bounce in his step and humming a tune.

Caitlyn glanced at the ornate hairclip in her hand.

Turns out there was a lot more to this magical world than she thought.

#Mirror's edge #Original Work #original story #my work

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joshstambourine · 4 years ago

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Lover, Leaver Pt. 1

"Ooooooh, I love your music ask idea... could you do a Lover, Leaver one with Danny? 👀" - @anditsmywholeheart

Okay. So.

I probably took this in a total different direction than you were imagining @anditsmywholeheart , hopefully you still like it 💜

I fought myself for a long while which way to go with this song prompt as the tune is so rock and roll, so at first I thought something fun and gritty but... the lyrics for this song give me such mythical vibes!

So I opted to go for something magical and fantasy based (this decision may or may not have have been swayed by my playing a shit tonne of Witcher recently. As well as helping my S/O with his D&D Campaign.)

Annnnnd surprise this one is not going to stay a one shot either! You guys are getting a magical series hurray!

Warnings: Cursing, Slightly NSFW

Word Count: 2891

Paladin!Danny × Sorceress!Reader

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

The cold wind whistled over the heights of the keep. It was so crisp. Danny’s eyes drifted over the edge of the thick stone rail of the tower, snow beginning to dance down from the dark gray sky. Danny was fully aware of what was coming, it didn’t take a genius to recognize the kind of trouble that was coming towards him now with full speed.

Danny’s eyes were unmoving, locked on the horizon now. “Are you cold?” He soon let out, to the woman sitting on the ledge beside him. Or, I suppose I should say hovering over the ledge.

(Y/N) began to shake her head slowly, “Danny.. I can’t feel it…” She simply responds, her words taking to the air in a puff of curling mist. Many sorceresses like (Y/N) went through rigorous training so as to be unbothered by even the most extreme temperatures.

Danny was quiet for a moment, the only sound was the hanging bits of Danny’s chainmail clinking against his plate armor. “Ah… I almost always forget.” He admits with a weak laugh, his gaze fell upon her now.

He couldn’t help but stare as her hair was tousled in the cold wind, it was almost a strong enough wind to pick up the end of her heavy velveteen cloak and toss it up into the air. As long as Danny had known (Y/N), she had always been rather… stoic? That wasn’t quite the word. Perhaps simply serious was a better word. It wasn’t necessarily her fault, most mages and sorcerers had to go through many horrendous trials to be able to hold any place in the magic practicing society. Not to mention the amount of witch hunters roaming the land and pouncing on any person who practiced magic.

(Y/N)’s seriousness didn’t deter Danny, nor would it cause his affections to wain. The moment Danny had laid eyes on her… he had known.

Danny could almost hear the sound of the band playing again now. With a small blink of his eyes he was back in The Royal Curtain.

He was surrounded by happy music, and much happier people. Many were drunk out of their skulls, but of course that came with the territory. But these people were happy for reasons aside from just alcohol and good music; this tavern in particular was very well hidden, actually being in the cobblestone basement of the building. That meant, it was a safe haven for those who practiced magic as well as any who were nonhuman. There were many outlanders present here throughout the day: elves, dwarves, halflings, even a few lizard folk, the list went on and on.

The Royal Curtain was a place for people to just let their hair down and enjoy themselves for once without being spit at or much worse.

Places like the Royal Curtain also meant business for people like Danny; there were so many people wronged by others here, people who weren't protected from the monsters that were all around, and people who just needed help settling somewhere safe. This was the place he loved to be, a place where he could use his abilities and frankly his humanity for good.

Danny shuffled through the crowd, a smile always being clad on his features. He just couldn't help it when he came here. These folk deserved to be happy for a while.

He broke his way through the crowd and came to find a seat at the bar.

"Ah! Danny! What have we done to deserve this pleasure?" Inquired a tall woman from behind the counter, her skin white as a sheet, eyes a bland shade of gray. "Here to enjoy yourself for once?" She continued with a sly smile, long white curls falling around her paper thin figure.

Danny softly laughed, waving it off, "No, no, just business as usual, Nil." He explains.

Nil frowned a little, "You're going to work yourself to death you know." She tells him, beginning to reach for a glass. Nil was a part owner of this establishment, she worked at the bar in the basement while her partner tended to the upstairs level.

Nil was a being known as a changeling - a race that looked like it was created by someone who had a human’s likeness described to them but had never actually had seen one. They had no distinct features; skin, hair, eyes, they all were some shade of grey or a colour that was drained of most of its pigment. This of course, was for a reason. Changeling’s had the ability to change shape at will, and tend to have to learn to lie their way through their lives to survive; because of this most people assume that they are criminally inclined, which is almost never the case.

"At least it would be for a good cause." Danny cheerfully says, watching her as she poured him his usual glass of Fire Brandy.

Nil wore a warm smile, "We appreciate all the effort you put in. Honestly." She continues in a loving tone. She meant it, and Danny was well aware of this.

Nil had done many things herself in the name of protecting magic users and nonhumans. In fact she had led many revolts in her life. However, Nil was now a mother and certainly couldn't be expected to to stick her neck out as often as she had when she was young. Which meant people like Danny needed to step up, pick up the slack.

“So?” He lightly asked, hand taking the glass between his finger tips. “Anything…?” Danny continued, if anyone was going to know if someone needed help or something was happening, it was going to be Nil.

Nil lips pursed a little as she looked around the room, seeming to be thinking. Danny took notice of her hands, covered in scars and surprisingly rather bejeweled - a ring with the crest of a royal house on her hand, an odd thing seeing as she had never been much more than a street urchin. Danny never had the courage to ask Nil why she had the ring in all the time he had known her, he didn’t know if he would ever find out frankly.

“I know there is a family of dwarves needing an escort…” Nil lightly begins, “But… I don’t suppose you want to run the risk of having the guard notice your frequent travel out of the city lines…” She utters to herself, before biting her lip. “There is something actually.” She admits.

Danny leaned forward against the bar, taking another sip of the brandy. “Something?” He inquired,

Nil nodded, “It’s… not something I would normally expect you to get involved with. Sam is normally who I’d reach out to… he’s better with the arcane but…” She slowly muttered,

“I know… I still don’t know where he is Nil.” Danny lets out. Sam, a fellow clan member and friend had gone missing in the weeks previous. No one knew where he went, just that he left behind some form of note… all in the dead language. To this moment Sam’s brothers had been trying to find someone to decipher it, but it so far had been no use.

Nil frowns a little, knowing how important Sam was to him, but she continued on. “There is a Sorceress here somewhere. She is looking for help to find something... an artifact of some sort.”

Danny immediately grimaced, “Agh… Nil, you know I don’t get involved with that kind of bull---” He sighs, having already done too many errands for wizards promising to pay him a reward to fetch “a simple artifact”... it was always more work than it was worth. He had yet to meet a Wizard that didn’t short change him and proceed to complain about the “dings” on the item in question, as if it hadn’t existed for thousands of years before Danny came along.

Nil shook her head a bit, knowing how he felt about tasks like this. “I’m aware, but, I have been led to believe that this is different.” She continued, “Just help with hunting down some fellow sorcerers and getting more information. She had come in to ask if I knew a Vitalis Kein---” Nil explained, seeming to slow when it came to the name.

“And? Do you…?” Danny inquired with a perked brow, it was something about the way she had said the name, it just didn’t sit well with him.

Nil was quick to shake her head, “Not a clue. I have never had anyone by that name come through the inn.” She admits suddenly seeming at ease once again.

Perhaps Danny had imagined the little waver in her voice? He shrugged it off into the back recesses of his mind, ‘It was nothing I’m sure.’ He tells himself, hand moving to push back the few curly pieces of hair that had fallen from the ribbon holding his hair in place. “Is she still here?” He inquired,

“Upstairs I believe, Helgrim will know the room.” Nil says, lightly moving to refill a few tankards that had been slammed down on the bar.

Danny tossed back the rest of his brandy and began to stand, pulling a few coins from his satchel. “Thanks Nil.” He smiles,

“Come see me again soon! You still owe Syl a sword lesson.” She hummed, with a wide smile. Syl was her daughter, the girl was barely four years old but had a fire for swordsmanship.

“Tell her I’ll be her next week okay?” He laughed lightly.

Danny walked down the long hallway in the inn, searching for a room that was tucked in the far back corner, close to the back exit for obvious reasons. Those obvious reasons being that it was an easy escape incase of a raid. Danny’s armor rattled with each step he took, it was surprising just how quickly you could drown out a noise when it became part of your everyday life.

Finally he had found the door to the room; it was strange… the few steps that were closest to the door Danny had begun to notice the air get heavy. A soft… tingle? Yes, a tingle, running up and down his spine. His lips parted, ‘Magic?’ Danny thought to himself, recognizing the feeling. ‘She wouldn’t be stupid enough to be exuding so much here could she…?’

As his fingertips touched the door handle soft purple sparks climbed his fingers, they burned as they climbed to his knuckles. Quickly Danny recoiled his hand; his eyes watching as purple runes sizzled and glowed in the wood of the door.

‘Fuck--- a protection spell.’ Danny thought, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t dealing with a novice. Danny knew he wouldn’t be able to touch the door, that burn was a warning --- any use of force and he would more than likely be shot through the wall due to the reverb… he had learned from experience. Sam had once cast protection on his bedroom door… it wasn’t a fun time for anyone.

With a huff, Danny moved to begin digging through his satchel. Eventually tugging free a yellow crystal, holding it tight he moved it closer to the door --- within an instant it began to glow. He brought a second hand up, with both hands he moved the crystal to draw opposing runes in the air. As he did so the air got heavier and heavier, more electricity rising before---

CRACK!

The crystal shattered in his hands. However, the door had creaked open without any further opposition. With magic, things always came at a cost. You couldn’t expect something without giving nothing. Carefully Danny began to skulk forward, pushing the door open, it was dark in the room… pitch black almost.

Danny could see billows of mist brushing by his feet, he looked at it curiously. Hand reaching back for his sword with uncertainty, “Hello…?” He called, his voice echoed back as if the room went on forever. Danny’s fingers began to clutch at the hilt of his blade, eyes moving over the darkness keenly. Every step he took into the room he could feel the air get heavier and heavier, and… oddly enough to smell more and more like flowers. “Hello…?!” He called again a little louder, voice seeming to echo even farther.

A loud crack made him jump, quickly looking behind him to see that the door had slammed shut behind him. Danny felt his eyes widen as he quickly began to make his way back toward it, he only made it a few steps before he heard her.

“I’ve been expecting you.” A woman's voice echoed at first not seeming to have any particular location, almost rattling through his head more than anything. Danny didn’t know where to look, his lips parting unsure what to say, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Said the voice again, this time right by his ear.

Danny spun around, eyes wide with disbelief when he found himself staring at a now sunny space full of flowers, it… was almost a greenhouse or royal garden, but something about it told him that wasn’t quite it. As he looked up there was no glass ceiling… and no sun either, just a black sky full of stars. And yet this space was filled with bright and beautiful daylight, it causing the dew on the plants to glisten.

Danny looked back behind him but only found more shrubbery and flowers growing wildly; nervously he began to take steps forward. Danny had no idea where he was going, or where he was even… only that there were flowers of every sort and shape. Danny could hear the fine gravel under his boots crunch with each step, it was a change from the creaking floorboards of the inn.

A small purple butterfly took to the air as Danny passed, fluttering ahead of him softly. Danny watched it curiously, noticing that it seemed to fly in one spot for a time as if it was waiting for him to follow. Danny eventually did so, eyes staying open to anything that could happen. ‘I hate sorcerers.’ He thinks to himself, being all too aware of the kind of things they pulled to show their “unimaginable power”. It didn’t impress Danny in the slightest.

The butterfly made a few brisk turns, leading him down many paths until they came to a space where falling water could be heard. As soon as the sound was able to be heard the butterfly disappeared into purple mist; Danny could only sigh and shake his head. Everything here was most likely an illusion of some sort, many magic users created something of… a study den if you will. A place where they felt safe to practice their magic, though this place was all in their imagination… part of a meditation.

Danny continued forward to find a pond with a small fresh water waterfall running into it. “It’s about time.” The woman’s voice spoke again, as his eyes came to meet the owner his cheeks immediately turned a fiery red. Danny was quick to lift his eyes skyward; the woman before him stepped out of the water completely naked without any shame.

“Ah-- a shy one I see.” She uttered out loud, pulling her fingers through her wet hair.

“Not at all, just… a gentleman.” Danny responded, not wanting to look down at her until she was fully clothed.

“A gentleman would have knocked before entering my chambers.” She responded, with a subtle grin.

“I would have knocked, but I know better than to even flick a protected door.” He tells her, it was a strange feeling having his eyes upward. As a general rule Danny thought it safer to always keep his eyes on people he wasn’t sure could be trusted, somehow though, looking away from her came instinctually.

“Fair,” She utters, taking a seat on a large stone by the water. She didn’t seem inclined to put on any clothing at all, exuding all the confidence in the world. “Good god man, you can look at me. I won’t bite.” She tells him.

Danny struggled to lower his gaze back to her figure, “Just--- can you put on a towel or something? Please?” He responded,

“You realize this is my realm, I don’t have to do anything you ask me to.” The woman tells him seriously, “In fact I could have removed your clothing if that was my intention.” She admits, arms folded, but abiding by his request. She moved to place a loose robe over her shoulders.

“Now tell me. Are you here to help me Danny?” She inquires, not bothering to tie the ribbon around the waist.

Danny cleared his throat as his gaze finally came upon her, “I… well I came here to get more information.” He tells her, eyes lingering a little on her facial features. It was true what they said about sorceresses… they were always enchantingly beautiful. Danny almost fell into a dream-like state looking into her eyes, “Like… what you’re doing here in a city that wants your kind dead first off.” He finally continues.

“Oh,” She hummed, “Nil didn’t tell you?” She says, no expression coming to her features. She slowly locking eyes with him,

“...I’m going to kill the King.” She says.

//So this was incredibly fun to write. I just got so freaking lost in it. It's up to you guys if you want me to do a separate fic series following the Kiszka brothers as this one is just Danny for now! If so, leave me some ideas for what race or role yall think they would have!

Fun fact is actually a character I play in a D&D session my S/O runs! You'll definitely get more information about her as the story continues on.//

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh gvf #danny gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner #danny wagner x reader #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet roleplay #gvf fanfiction #gvf magical #gvf imagine #lover leaver

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felassan · 4 years ago

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Dragon Age development insights from David Gaider - PART 4

This information came from DG on a recent SummerfallStudios Twitch stream where he gave developer commentary while Liam Esler continued playing DAO from where they had left off in Part 1, 2 and 3. I transcribed it in case there’s anyone who can’t watch the stream (for example due to connection/tech limitations, data, time constraints, personal accessibility reasons, etc). A lot of it is centered on DAO, but there’s also insights into other parts of the franchise. Some of it is info which is known having been put out there in the past, and some of it is new. There’s a bit of overlap or repetition with topics covered in Parts 1-3. This post leaps from topic to topic as it’s a transcript of a conversational format. It’s under a cut due to length.

The stream can currently be watched back here. Next week LE will be streaming a different DAO playthrough with commentary from another guest. Two weeks from now LE and DG will return to continue this playthrough for another stream session like this one.

(Part 5, Part 6)

[wording and opinions DG’s, occasionally LE’s; paraphrased]

The Loghain sequences, where it jumps out of the HoF’s point of view to let the player see what Loghain is up to, were added quite late on in development. Some of the dream sequences (like the HoF’s dream of the Archdemon) were also probably added quite late. Those sequences were added as they felt that they needed to have more indication of the larger goings-on in terms of what Loghain was up to, since they had cut some stuff that was meant to have shown this. Cutting things can be funny like that as you’re then left trying to explain the holes.

An original Archdemon concept drawing had them as a lot more demonic as opposed to draconic, with blank all-black faces, a giant ornate crown, smoke, tentacles and a Cthulhu-esque feel. Things change a lot during the concept phase however. At the time, DG wasn’t sure if he liked the changing of the ‘demon’ into a ‘dragon’, but over time he digs it - it sorta implies some things about the nature of dragons in the world that they later decided “yes, that is probably the case”. They then worked that more into the lore so that dragons weren’t just there to be huge lizards. Given the difficulty the team had modelling things like tentacles and snakes, the original Archdemon concept would probably have been iterated on and would’ve had to become something else eventually anyway.

Having the party camp was probably always part of James Ohlen’s plan. Originally, there was going to be different camps in specific places around the map. They then made it a sort of ‘pocket area’ that the player always ‘took with them’, but here they had problems figuring out things like what would happen if the player rested while in an interior location as opposed to somewhere out in the wilderness, “like, does that change it?” For a while there was a complicated system where the party members would do things in camp that would give the player items and help out in such ways - like a party member who made potions, ones that could be interacted with and asked to craft, a whole crafting system relating to that, etc (this all got cut). This was supposed to act as a reason for the player to return to camp and have more interactions at camp; they didn’t want the camp just to be ‘the place you go just to talk to followers’. A good portion of the team considered dialogue to be boring and not an activity that was engaged in.

As soon as hair/beard hair came past the ‘clipping plane’ of the neck, they had real trouble getting it to move due to lack of proper cloth physics and the troubles they had with hair. Beards were rectangular strips that dangled from the chin with the beard texture attached to it. Sometimes certain points were connected to the chest which is why there’s the weird stretching if models move in certain ways. This happens with robes as well. The reason they did this is so that there’s no clipping. For some reason the BW animation team was so averse to clipping compared to other games from elsewhere which sometimes have a bit of clipping that they’re actually not fussed about. At one point they had a big fight on the DA team because the art team said “We need to make every entrance and doorway [including tents] about twice the size that it is, about Shale-size specifically, because of Shale” because they were worried that there would be scenes where Shale would clip through the wall, and about how this would look to players. Others responded that it’d be rare where Shale would be seen going through a door and also that nobody really cares (as in it’s not a big deal). DG half-seriously suggested that instead of making every door bigger, have it so that after entering the door’s texture at the sides and above it would look cracked and have an outline of Shale’s arms and head as if she’d just barreled her way through the stonework. In the end Shale’s size was reduced as a solution to this (so Shale was originally intended to be a lot larger). This is an example of a place where different parts of the team had different priorities in development. It was pointed out that in the end having giant doors may not have made much difference, as every interior in DA is massive in terms of floor and ceiling-space, as well as items (huge jugs of ale etc) anyway.

Weapons and staves hover on characters’ backs due to the team’s aforementioned aversion to clipping. Originally there were plans for scabbards and straps, but they didn’t have the resources for these and they were also concerned about staves clipping through straps, especially when being ‘drawn’ for combat, even though that would just be a second or so. So this is why we instead have floating magnetically-attached-looking weapons.

DG wrote Nature of the Beast including all of the Brecilian Forest, it’s possibly his favorite plot/questline out of the ones he wrote for DAO. It’s one of the plots that survived best from first inception to final result. One of the prominent cultural features of Ferelden is the werewolves, and so DG had to make ‘the werewolf plot’. All the initial plots were split up like that (the werewolf plot, the dwarf plot, etc). Originally there was a separate ‘elf plot’ but it got joined together with the werewolf one. DG had an idea for a being that was like male and female, terrible and kind, beautiful and horrible and so forth - both at once, like the way nature is. This was the vague initial idea from which this plot grew. The nature spirit encountered is the flipside of the being. The spirit of the forest is both male and female, or something akin to being bigender (both rather than neither). There’s not much difference between the Lady and Witherfang. DG finds it so weird hearing the DAO Dalish elves’ American accents (since their accents were changed for the next game). The American Dalish elf accents bugged DG enough that when they got to DA2, he said to Caroline Livingstone “can we just retcon this” and she was like “yeah”. “I think we underestimated how weird prevalent American accents in the game alongside the British ones would be”. Zathrian is voiced by Tim Russ (Tuvok from Star Trek).

The Cammen-Gheyna plot is a fairly ‘nothing-y’ sidequest relatively speaking, but is so complex in terms of how many options and paths through it that it has that DG got a big of a finger-wagging for it and some people were not happy. LE commented that this quest is “an extremely Gaider plot”, as the player can ruin everyone’s lives in it. Gheyna’s pronunciation of Andaran atish'an is incorrect. This phrase is one of the ones that got mixed up in the pronunciation guide and one of the ones that when they got to DA2, DG was like “ignore what we did before, here’s the new pronunciation files”. One of the first ‘images’ the team had of the Dalish was that they had reindeer-like creatures that pulled the aravels. In DAO aravels look more like standard wagons than the ones in the ‘images’, and they weren’t shown properly. Aravels are wagons but they’re supposed to have big sails (not naval-style sails on top) all over the place to catch the wind, so that they look like a bunch of ships being drawn across a field. They got closer to how they’re supposed to be in DAI. At one point the artists sat DG down and asked him what should set the Dalish apart visually. “Funny you should ask, I have some very specific ideas about what the Dalish should look like that have just never been done”. [I think here he meant hadn’t yet been implemented in the franchise] “Oh, we just thought they were ‘people with wagons’.” “Nobody reads documentation...”

The lamps in the Brecilian Forest are a bit random. They put light sources everywhere and it seems like the Brecilian lamp thing was art-asset use that boiled down to “guess it’s an elven forest?”. The Deep Roads were supposed to be properly dark. The team had a lot of conversations over how dark they could or should make the Deep Roads. They constantly had beams of light coming from above and it was like “this is supposed to be like a mile underground, why are there sunbeams coming through cracks in the ceiling” - the answer is it looks good and they didn’t want to do proper darkness. By DAI, they got closer to the ‘look’ the Deep Roads are supposed to have. This is a recurring theme in the DA franchise lol. “This was a weakness in our team and processes, that it took two titles before we got on board with each other and with the vision.” But they had plenty of good strengths too! DG wishes they had iterated a bit more on the werewolves’ look.

“Evil options” was always one of the big conversations that they had. DG wasn’t a fan of the evil options because they mostly boiled down to being a big jerk. The reason for this is a lengthy design discussion that relies on interface - proper, smart evil usually implies some kind of deception, and how do you indicate to the player that the option they’re about to take has a more cleverly-sinister aspect to it (as opposed to simple Intimidate options)? They didn’t really enjoy just letting the player run around being an asshole to people, “do we have to service this hyuk-hyuk-hyuk, particular type of enjoyment?” DG wishes they had figured out how to do the evil stuff a little better (feeling that in a game, doing good has less merit unless there’s temptation to do evil, and that evil paths should be more materially rewarding).

DG wrote The Dawn Will Come with some help from PW and Karin Weekes. It was the first song he wrote. Trevor Morris sent him the tune and he listened to it many times and wrote out the lyrics. PW and KW helped him make it “less awkward and cringey”. “They’re very good at that”. PW is good at poetry, KW is more musical and knows more about music. “If you get something which is as ridiculous as it is memorable, it’s probably Sheryl. If you get something that’s beautiful prose, it’s probably Mary. Something in-between is probably PW.” The DAI bardsongs were written by an external party brought in specially to do so. This required a fair bit of review and revision to make sure they followed DA lore. “It’s a problem we’ve always had trying to work with third parties, they tend to think that anything that falls under the umbrella of ‘medieval fantasy’ would fit in DA”. (Here DG groaned a bit thinking about Orson Scott Card.)

On the Grand Oak and co: “After I finished writing this I totally regretted it. It’s a big dialogue and there’s a lot involved in this quest. Do you know how hard it is to make somebody rhyme in a way that’s not completely cringey for the entire dialogue? I was three quarters into it and I so wanted to stop but I was past the point of no return. But I did it! And it worked out.” The Grand Oak should have been a LotR-style ent-like being in terms of animations and presence. When DG sees the Oak’s stationary pose he’s reminded of Silence of the Lambs. When he finished the Grand Oak and hermit quest he was like “I make way more trouble for myself than I should”. The Hermit cycles through random animations outside of conversation because he’s supposed to be twitchy and weird.

The haunted empty camp side encounter was a pain for the tech designers to make work because there’s no NPC to talk to. It was a pain whenever companions had to offer critical information like in these sorts of parts in fact, as they had to write 9 versions of each ‘line’ (1 for each companion).

There are certain spells/abilities in D&D that can make a GM’s life frustrating, such as teleportation, telling the future, resurrection. The fact that death is not permanent, for instance, should be a huge thing that affects society and how the people in it view death. This is why they were thinking stuff like “If every low-level mage in the setting had a skill like ‘Charm Person’, what would non-mages make of that?” This ties back to discussions in previous part/s where there are lore rules like no teleportation. DA was originally envisioned as a low-magic setting, but this didn’t last long [this subject is also covered in previous part/s]. The rules of magic didn’t really change though, they just weren’t really communicated that well to the other teams in the early days. They slowly realized that it was incumbent on the design team to explain and sell to the other teams the vision, not just expect them to read documentation. They were also constantly fighting against their own presuppositions of “DA is like D&D”.

Desire demons were supposed to be genderless. DG isn’t a fan of how the Fade turned out in DAO. The quests themselves were too long; they couldn’t do all the original plans they had for them so there was a lot of iteration, “then we ended up settling for something not very exciting”. Another big fight the team had was about whether they should have permanent death since DA was a more realistic world? One side’s argument was that ‘if you don’t allow for resurrection then we can’t have death in combat’. DG wondered if there was a different dichotomy they could get to but didn’t want to dictate how combat should work or tell combat designers how to do their job, as he wasn’t the one doing that work.

One of the best moves they made when working on DAI was the concept artist consulting cosplayers. This was good work not only in a fashion sense but also in that it led to making outfits for characters that someone could actually wear (contrast those with Sebastian’s outfit, which DG remembers cosplayers having trouble making functional/wearable and putting together). DG really wasn’t keen at all on Cole’s hat. When designing the clothing-clothing in DAO, the artists were trying to get the most variation for clothing out of assembling pieces. For the sake of variation they allowed pieces to go together that really shouldn’t go together. This allowed for a larger number of clothing options to be made out of a smaller number of clothing models/textures.

In Neverwinter Nights they added a “jiggle mesh” to the engine, it was used in only one place (Aribeth’s cleavage).

Writers are the first ones that jump onto a project, so when last touches and polish is being added to a game they’re often not aware of it. Once the writing is more or less locked down for a game, they start working on the next project. On every project at some point they had to have what they called the “profanity meeting”, where they decide what types of profanity exist in that world, what level of profanity they’re accepting, establishing the standard on this front, etc. This leads to fun meetings where they go through every profanity that they know and try to create new ones. “Maker’s breath!” and “Void take you!” are some of these kinds of things. They needed exclamations akin to “Goddamnit” but which made sense in this fantasy setting (“Goddamnit” implies the context of God, and the concept of damning, for example, so it doesn’t hold up) and weren’t just word substitution like “frack” instead of fuck or something.

The Grey Wardens gained their trademark blue and silver uniformed look for DA2. When the new art director Matt Goldman came on before DA2, he wanted to re-approach a number of things such as the darkspawn (mentioned in previous parts) and the Wardens. He wanted factions like the Wardens to be more uniform and easily identifiable at a distance by silhouettes and colors. He wanted factions to be more visually distinct and to introduce more color in general, as DAO was very brown and muddy. This was something of a standing mission of his when he came onto the project. He disliked the idea that there wasn’t anything unifying or distinct or ‘easily identifiable as a DAO screenshot’ about DAO screenshots, other than that brown muddiness.

Deciding how to design the Lady of the Forest was a long conversation due to the potential nsfw elements. It was a long haul to get her to look a certain way.

The thing DG found easiest/least painful to write was probably Zevran’s dialogue. He felt less pressure about it and had a bit more fun with it. Zevran has a certain story about trust that DG found pleasurable to build on; Zevran had grown up with a certain expectation of deceit and trauma, and when confronted with earnest feelings, that was the more puzzling part for [Zevran] to process. “When you expect everyone around you to deceive you, you’re kinda like, okay, this is life. But then to figure out, ‘oh, I guess it doesn’t need to be that way’, well how do you even... not?” DG remembers straight male players complaining on the forum after accepting Zevran’s massage tent-invite and not clocking that that was an invite of a certain nature. Overall Zevran was a more relaxed piece of writing for him. Shale came later but writing Shale was also a lot of fun. Like HK-47, “you can string together a few quirks that you find amusing and people will still treat that like a character and love it”.

In DA2 there was an entire subplot centered around the Carta and Varric. It spanned all three Acts. Mary Kirby had written it to completion and it was good. DG had to tell her it was among the cuts they needed to do because it was written a bit later relative to other stuff and because cutting it offered the most return according to the schedule and resources/subsequent downstream work. In cases like these they sometimes take the cut plotbeats and put it in a ‘box’, in the hopes that they may be able to use it for DLC or something later on. In practise this doesn’t happen very often at all. On DAO it did happen once with Shale. Shale was cut from DAO and had to be moved to become Day 1 DLC. Work on Shale therefore took place after most of the game had been finished. If they hadn’t done this, she would have been cut completely. It also sort of happened on DAO with Loghain. It originally had a whole plotline in Denerim involving him which had the player figuring out his background, motivations and interacting more with Anora. All of that got cut (requiring the cutscenes mentioned at the start of this post being added), and this is where the idea came of writing a novel (The Stolen Throne). This occurred in the period when the game had been delayed and DG particularly regretted that particular cut. He thought, “I could take this story that you were going to learn about the history of Loghain and his relationship with Cailan, and rescue it in a way.” [source]

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[Part 5]

[Part 6]

[‘Insights into DA dev from the Gamers For Groceries stream’ transcript]

#dragon age #bioware #video games #cole #spirit boy

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niftybottle · 5 years ago

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Hey @tulipsandsake, I’m your @bering-and-wells-exchange person. I saw you reblog D&D and Critical Role stuff, so I thought I’d do designs for Myka and Helena as D&D characters. Helena is a half-Drow multiclass Bard (College of Glamour)/Artificer (Battle Smith), while Myka is an old-school (2e/AD&D/Baldur’s Gate era) human dual Kensai->Mage. (I don’t have races/subclasses for everyone, but Artie is a college of lore bard, Claudia is an Artificer, Pete is a fighter, and I’m not sure what Leena is). Helena is very much a “seduce anything that moves” ~D&D Bard~, while Artie is very much not - he leans hard into the collection of lore/jack of all trades angle, and while he can play music very well he borders on anti-social. This is the source of some of the tension between them, with his distrust for her Drow parentage occupying most of the rest.

At this point I’m going interrupt to give a blanket apology if I explain something you already know - it’s hard to judge knowledge levels with a gift exchange without ruining the surprise, so I’m going to err on the side of explaining things just in case.

Helena is a bard to capture the importance of her novels, but novel-writing isn't the most practical in a fight or as a live performance, so I gave her an instrument. I chose the hurdy-gurdy, which is a (real) instrument with a very silly name. I picked it because it is very complex and mechanical, like something she might have invented or cobbled together. It’s kind of like an automatic violin or fiddle - rather than being plucked or bowed, a crank on the side is rotated, which moves a wheel across the strings. Rather than frets there are keys which hold the strings at certain points when pressed. There are also “drone” strings, which play a given note (that can be adjusted using a tuning peg) whenever the wheel is turned. You can technically “play” a drone string by holding a sting as if a guitar string as the wheel turns, but that isn’t traditional. Both drone and melody strings can be adjusted using tuning pegs, and apparently you can adjust the exact note the keys play. Some hurdy-gurdys (but not Helena's) also have additional strings not played by the wheel that can be played like a guitar. Hurdy-gurdys do not have much standardization, and the number/presence of all the different kinds of strings can vary.

Helena's bard college I went back and forth with - the college of glamour is about charming, as in the magic, which does suit her, but the college of lore would also be good. Ultimately I decided that college of lore would be better for Artie. Battle Smith, her artificer specialization, I kind of chose to make the character a little more practical to play - artillerist might have suited her character a touch more, but not too much more, and the battle smith's ability to use intelligence for (magic) weapon attacks/damage reduces the important stats to two (int and cha) rather than three (adding str or dex for weapon rolls). Helena's Steel Defender is Dickens the Mechanical Cat, and he can turn the crank for the hurdy-gurdy, letting her play it with one hand.

I don't have her backstory completely pinned down; I feel like her Drow parent escaped to the surface rather than being a functioning member of Drow society, if only to reduce the sketchiness of the alternative method of conception. Christina is definitely a valid "reason for adventuring", but Endless Wonder or fleeing the consequences of a lab accident or charm spell wearing off are also possibilities.

In terms of the illustration itself, I tried to balance bard flamboyance, artificer practicality with a touch of mad science, and Helena's canonical slightly Victorian elegance. I definitely needed the fancy bard hat, because I am of the firm belief that every bard needs a fancy hat. She's wearing a cute pair of overalls (and I now have "stylish overalls" in my google search history), but they got covered by Dickens :( . With the more muted browns inspired by the artificer half as well as her canon style, she was looking a little drab for a bard, so I added a little cape. In terms of skin/hair/eyes and being half-Drow my thoughts were kind of: leaning in to the purplish/blue/lavender skin thing some illustrations of Drow have, because between the inherent problems of the evil elves having black skin and wanting to stay fifty feet away from anything that might come close to being a race-bend I wasn't going to deal with having her skin be darker. I think it turned out OK? For some reason Helena's eye color is significant to me, so they stayed brown rather than Drow purple or something, though they wound up a bit brighter thanks to my attempts to add a little purple. Jaime Murray's hair is iconic, but more for its smoothness and luster than its color, so I was fine making it white as long as I kept the style. The hurdy-gurdy was a bit of a nightmare (twice over, since I had to ink it), which isn't surprising - I kind of cursed myself with that instrument choice, but it was so perfect ;_; . In general, and especially in comparison with Myka, Helena's illustration fought me the whole way down. If you watch the time-lapse, you can see some of the references I used, but far from all - I streamed so much hurdy-gurdy playing youtube is still confused, and the pose went through some shenanigans.

Now, to Myka. Thinking of her pre-med before pre-law before secret service vaguely remembered quote, I thought of the old Baldur's Gate fighter(kensai)->mage cheese build, and thought it might be a good way to capture that simultaneous indecision and discipline/intelligence.

Going very briefly into Baldur's Gate/2e: Kensai, in BG, is a Fighter kit. Kits, in BG and 2e both, are a little like specializations in 5e, in that they are a kind of further customization beyond the class itself. The difference is, not every character has a kit - there is a base class (fighter) and a kit is a set of trade-offs, taking away base class features in exchange for various benefits. So fighter, the base kit, is pretty similar to the fighter in other editions - good at using weapons and armor and attacking a lot. Can equip the best stuff, and use it well, but doesn't get a lot of bonuses apart from that of equipment. Kensai (in BG), on the other hand, trades the ability to wear armor (and use non-thrown ranged weapons) for scaling bonuses to to-hit and damage (abstracting some things for you), and a minor one-time bonus to natural armor, as well as the Kai ability, which temporarily maxes out damage on successful attacks, usable a few times a day, depending on class level. In short, they trade off the armor portions of the Fighter class for additional weapon bonuses.

In Baldur's Gate, if you want to build a dual fighter/wizard, kensai is a great pick for kit, since wizards can't cast in armor anyway, but they can cast spells to boost their AC, mitigating some of the disadvantage of the kit. Mage is a base class and basically what would be called a wizard in later editions. Mage kits, with the exception of wild mage (in BG), which is a whole thing I won't get into, are pretty much picking a school to specialize in - they get bonuses to spells of that school, but there is an "opposing" school which they can't use at all. I wouldn't be terribly interested in those specializations even if I could use them for Myka, but I couldn't, because of how dual-classing works.

Dual-classing in BG and 2e is one of two methods to have more than one class on a character. Which one you can do depends on your race (as does a lot of things in 2e). If you're human, you dual-class; if you're not, you multi-class. Multi-class characters are more what you'd expect from multi-classing in other editions - you have two classes, you gain levels in both. There are differences (exp is divided evenly between classes, rather than choosing what to level, class and combination restrictions), but most relevantly, you can't use any kits with multi-class characters. So, we want to dual-class, not multi-class, so that Myka can use the Kensai (BG) kit, which makes her human, which is fine.

Dual-classing, compared to multi-classing, is weird. Basically, you start off in one class, with a kit if you like, and level normally in that class/kit until you decide to switch, at which point you are done with the first class and can't level in it anymore. Then you *start over* in your new class (which cannot have a kit), as if you were a level one character in that class, without (effectively) the ability to use anything from the previous class (except hp). This continues until the number of levels in the second class exceeds that of the levels in the first class, at which point the character regains all the qualities and abilities of their first class. Dual classes can wind up quite powerful, but they require both planning and a willingness to be weaker for a time to be more powerful later (which I feel suit Myka well - she's a planner and has the patience and discipline to accept temporary weakness to be stronger later). So, given that we want to use the Kensai (BG) kit, Myka needs to start with it, and then switch to mage later, since the second class can't have a kit.

At this point I want to clarify why I keep specifying Baldur's Gate and/or D&D 2e for things. Turns out, Baldur's Gate does use D&D 2e as a base, but makes some modifications. One of the changes it makes, which I didn't know when I started this, is the Kensai kit itself. Kensai is not officially a 2e kit, and technically isn't in 2e at all. There is a (fighter-ish) class in the "Oriental Adventures" book for first edition, but it isn't quite the same, more it's own class that happens to share some tables with fighter. Since the end goal is character design, not creating a legal 2e character, I won't go too far into it, but I did create both a (cheated to level up) Baldur's Gate kensai -> mage and a (1e-ish)Kensai->(2e)Mage, using the rules from 2e for most things not directly in the Kensai class description (and ignoring the stat requirements for dual-classing since I didn't roll any 17s); screenshots of both should be in the supplemental reblog, in addition to a link to Helena's dndbeyond character sheet.

Fortunately for me and my lack of foresight, both BG Kensai and 1/2e Kensai have similar flavor: a heavily "eastern" inspired warrior with even more discipline and asceticism than standard fighters, focused on their weapons and unable to wear armor, with a restriction to either lawful (1/2e) or at least not chaotic (BG) alignments (if this sounds a little monk-ish WotC agrees - kensai is a monk specialization in 5e, being a monk that can use a not-monk weapon). Also fortunately for me, mage is wizard is mage, regardless of edition. Magic from book learning/intelligence. Not too complicated.

In terms of character narrative, in canon, I feel like coming to the Warehouse was a significant breakpoint in Myka's life and worldview. Not being a writer, this small essay notwithstanding, I'm going to sum it up as a break from tradition and from seeking the approval of her father. Where joining the Warehouse crew was for canon Myka, I want dualing from Kensai to Mage to be for DnD Myka, with reaching the point where she can use Kensai features again representing the peace with her past she eventually reaches at the warehouse in canon. What I'm picturing is: Myka is from an isolated and very traditional mountain village where the kensai tradition (and 2e mechanics) has been preserved. Myka is trained in this tradition, and has both the mental discipline and physical capabilities to excel. The people of this village are purists and don't believe in using magic, especially in conjunction with being a kensai. Somehow (at this point my having thought this through starts to fail) Myka gets ahold of some spellbooks, and with her love of books and curiosity, begins to read and reread them, until one day she casts some magic. This is against the rules, and she's kicked out of the village for "corrupting" their traditions, and now she has to make her way through the world with only her fledgling mage talent to rely on.

Talking about the illustration/design itself: given the heavily eastern vibe, I'm trying for a samurai/ronin style based on my recollections from my weeb phase. I wanted in particular with the robe/kimono to make something that would be in between the plain practicality of Myka's kensai kimono and the flashiness of wizard robes (if you watch the timelapse, you may spot the part where I accidentally took a left turn into fallout's vault boy coloration before tweaking it a bit). I also wanted to have her using magic, and I think the magic effect turned out well. Really, this illustration just came out really easy. I was just … drawing hands. If you watch the timelapse, I even saved a third hand for a while because it was so nice (but at the wrong angle). I don't know what happened. Really the only snags were the aforementioned Vault Boy Moment and coloring Myka's hair (although I did decide to leave her face as a sketch rather than try to ink it).

I think maybe I've babbled enough for now. I'll reblog this in a moment (since tumblr hates links) with character sheets, timelapses of the drawings, and a bonus doodle that came to me reading the artificer specializations.

#Bering and Wells #Warehouse 13 #Bering and Wells Holiday Exchange #tulipsandsake #my art #wow I sure can write when that's not the focus of what I'm doing #ask me about dnd apparently

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hufflly-puffs · 5 years ago

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Chapter 20: Lord Voldemort’s Request

“‘Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up over it,’ said Harry, still trying to sound casual. ‘Or are they still together?’ ‘Yes, they are – but why are you so interested?’ asked Hermione, giving giving Harry a sharp look. ‘I just don’t want my Quidditch team messed up again!’ he said hastily, but Hermione continued to look suspicious, […].” – Please Harry, you should know Hermione well enough by now to know you can never hide anything from her. Girl knows what is up.

“‘Nice commentary last match!’ said Ron to Luna, as she took back the green onion, the toadstool and the cat litter. Luna smiled vaguely. ‘You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘Everyone says I was dreadful.’ ‘No, I’m serious!’ said Ron earnestly.”- Luna is so used that other people make fun of her that she doesn’t think Ron’s compliment is meant genuine. But it also says a lot about Ron, because he did make fun of her in the past quite often. Or as Luna said, “he can be a bit unkind”.

“‘No,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Divination is turning out to be much more trouble than I could have foreseen, never having studied the subject myself. I cannot ask Firenze to return to the Forest, where he is now an outcast, nor can I ask Sybill Trelawney to leave. Between ourselves, she has no idea of the danger she would be in outside the castle. She does not know – and I think it would be unwise to enlighten her – that she made the prophecy about you and Voldemort, you see.’” – Imagine you run a school and the reason you can’t fire a teacher is because otherwise they would be in mortal danger. And I think it is fair to say we can add Slughorn to this list as well. But at least both Firenze and Slughorn are aware of the danger, whereas Trelawney is blissfully oblivious, which puts her even more at risk.

“A hot, prickly feeling of shame spread from the top of Harry’s head all the way down his body. Dumbledore had not raised his voice, he did not even sound angry, but Harry would have preferred him to yell; this cold disappointment was worse than anything. ‘Sir,’ he said, a little desperately, ‘it isn’t that I wasn’t bothered or anything, I’ve just had other – other things …’ ‘Other things on your mind,’ Dumbledore finished the sentence for him. ‘I see.’” – Ironically my mother used the same tactic on me – she was never angry with me, but simply disappointed, because she had expected I would do better whenever I misbehaved. And I think Harry is used to anger; he spent years confronted with the anger of uncle Vernon and it is also how he reacts whenever something doesn’t go the way he wanted it to be. And anger can be very cathartic; after Sirius’s death Dumbledore gave Harry the chance to let out his anger because he knew it was what Harry needed at that moment. But he did not give him the satisfaction to be angry in return and he is not angry now, and Harry, who is so used to fight back, doesn’t know what to do. And of course Harry has had other things on his mind, as every teenager does, and Dumbledore is painfully aware of it. It is Dumbledore’s dilemma: he wants for Harry to be a normal teenager, to be concerned about Quidditch and schoolwork. And he wouldn't have asked if it wasn’t important, if there was any other way to get this memory.

“‘Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home.’ Harry felt slightly uncomfortable at these words, for this was exactly how he felt about Hogwarts, too.” – This isn’t just a parallel between Harry and Voldemort but between Harry and Snape as well. The three boys without a home, because they either were orphans or came from an abusive family, or in Harry’s case both. But while both Voldemort and Snape wanted to stay there as teachers Harry was ready to leave his first real home behind because he had found a home and a family outside Hogwarts. (Though one has to wonder why Snape wanted to become a teacher; clearly not because he loves children that much)

“‘And thirdly, as a teacher, he would have had great power and influence over young witches and wizards. Perhaps he had gained the idea from Professor Slughorn, the teacher with whom he was on best terms, who had demonstrated how influential a role a teacher can play. I do not imagine for an instant that Voldemort envisaged spending the rest of his life at Hogwarts, but I do think that he saw it as a useful recruiting ground, and a place where he might begin to build himself an army.’” – Slughorn is presented as a character who might not be the most sympathetic because of his favouritism but who appears to be harmless. Dumbledore himself said that while Slughorn seeks the attention of the powerful he does not want power for himself. However he could use his power and influence in a much sinister way, and the young Tom Riddle surely had realized that. He had worked his charm already on most of the adults in his life (with the exception of Dumbledore) and it would have been much easier to influence children, to gain new followers, or as Dumbledore said to build an army. Teachers are in a position of power, especially at Hogwarts, where children are far away from their parents, and Tom Riddle would have abused this power.

“‘But he didn’t get the job, sir?’ ‘No, he did not. Professor Dippet told him that he was too young at eighteen, but invited him to reapply in a few years, if he still wished to teach.’” – We already know you don’t need any sort of extra education to become a teacher; Hagrid is a teacher and never even finished school. And obviously Tom Riddle was perhaps the most talented student Hogwarts ever had (next to Dumbledore), so clearly Dippet saw no need for him to study or anything (are their universities in the Wizarding World?). The only reason he did not get the job was his age, so perhaps Dippet thought Riddle was not mature enough yet.

“‘Which job did he want, sir? What subject did he want to teach?’ Somehow, Harry knew the answer even before Dumbledore gave it. ‘Defence Against the Dark Arts.” – Another Harry-Snape-Voldemort-parallel. Both Voldemort and Snape wanted to get the job of the DADA teacher, and that is the subject Harry taught in his fifth year in the DA. Both Voldemort and Snape are fascinated by the Dark Arts, they are drawn to it, and according to Hermione Harry is as well, at least a little bit (Snape’s speech at the beginning of the school year reminded her of what Harry had told the DA). Harry’s fascination however is based on the fact that he has to understand the Dark Arts in order to survive and has no wish to use them on others.

“‘How do I look?’ said Hepzibah, turning her head to admire the various angles of her face in the mirror. ‘Lovely, madam,’ squeaked Hokey.” – This is not the first time Riddle visits Hepzibah Smith, and it is obvious that she is very smitten by him and tries to look nice for him. Obvious Riddle has used his charm on her as well, but he had also used his good looks to his advantage. From what we know about Voldemort he is not interested in personal relationships and I can’t imagine him to be interested in sex as well (yes, ignoring ‘Cursed Child’ here). As Dumbledore already told Harry Riddle/Voldemort never had any friends, I don’t see him having any kind of romantic or sexual relationship either. And yet he is very aware of the effect he has on women (and perhaps some men as well); he does not care about his looks (otherwise he would not have transformed himself) but he sure uses his attractiveness to his advantage.

“His greedy expression was curiously mirrored on Hepzibah’s face, except that her tiny eyes were fixed upon Voldemort’s handsome features.” – It is interesting that Hepzibah is described here as a predator, when she in fact will become the victim.

“‘That’s right!’ said Hepzibah, delighted, apparently, at the sight of Voldemort gazing at her locket, transfixed. ‘I had to pay an arm and a leg for it, but I couldn’t let it pass, not a real treasure like that, had to have it for my collection. Burke bought it, apparently, from a ragged-looking woman who seemed to have stolen it, but had no idea of its true value –’ There was no mistaking it this time: Voldemort’s eyes flashed scarlet at her words and Harry saw his knuckles whiten on the locket’s chain.” – Is Riddle angry because Burke had betrayed his mother? Because he thinks the locket is rightfully his? We know that Riddle hated his father, because he was a Muggle, because he had left his mother, but what does he think about his mother? Did he changed her mind about her after he learned that she was a witch, an ancestor of Slytherin on top of it? Or did he look down on her, because she ran away with a Muggle, because she chose the human weakness of death even though she could have saved herself? I can’t imagine that he felt any kind of sympathy towards his mother for those very reasons, and that his anger here is clearly based on thinking the locket belongs to him.

“‘Yes, that is my conclusion, too,’ said Dumbledore. ‘And, just as with Morfin, the Ministry was predisposed to suspect Hokey –’ ‘– because she was a house-elf,’ said Harry. He had rarely felt more in sympathy with the society Hermione had set up, S.P.E.W.” – If the ministry really suspected Hokey it shows how little they understand about house elves. Most of them are devoted to their masters and even the ones like Dobby who dislike their owners are programmed to obey and do as they are told. It is against the very nature of every house elf to hurt their master in any way. Despite being free Dobby still struggles to speak bad about the Malfoys and still wants to punish himself, so even if Hokey had a motive (and she seemed to like her mistress) she simply could not have killed Hepzibah.

“The one difference between the present-day office and this one was that it was snowing in the past; bluish flecks were drifting past the window in the dark and building up on the outside ledge.” – Clearly it is winter, so why would Voldemort try to get a job as a teacher in the middle of the school year?

“Harry let out a hastily stifled gasp. Voldemort had entered the room. His features were not those Harry had seen emerge from the great stone cauldron almost two years before; they were not as snakelike, the eyes were not yet scarlet, the face not yet masklike, and yet he was no longer handsome Tom Riddle. It was as though his features had been burned and blurred; they were waxy and oddly distorted, and the whites of the eyes now had a permanently bloody look, though the pupils were not yet the slits that Harry knew they would become. He was wearing a long black cloak and his face was as pale as the snow glistening on his shoulders.” – I guess this is what happens when you repeatedly rip your soul apart. The less you become human the less you look human as well.

“‘They do not call me “Tom” any more,’ he said. ‘These days, I am known as –’ ‘I know what you are known as,’ said Dumbledore, smiling pleasantly. ‘But to me, I’m afraid, you will always be Tom Riddle. It is one of the irritating things about old teachers, I am afraid, that they never quite forget their charges’ youthful beginnings.’” – It is such a small thing but Dumbledore’s refusal to acknowledge the name Riddle has given himself means so much. It means he does not accept and furthermore does not fear the monster Riddle has created of himself. And he reminds Riddle that he does know him longer than most, and that he has always looked right through his façade. By calling him ‘Tom’ he reminds Riddle that he is still human after all, no matter how desperate Riddle tries to become something less human. Later of course people would become so afraid of the monster they became afraid of the name itself. Dumbledore refused to call Tom Riddle ‘Voldemort’ and later refused not to use the name ‘Voldemort’ when everybody else did. He does not give Riddle/Voldemort any kind of power over him. And then of course in book 7 Voldemort will use his name as a weapon, as he will trace down everyone brave enough to say his name.

Also, imagine little first-years calling their DADA teacher Professor Voldemort.

“‘Three times at the last count, actually,’ said Dumbledore. ‘But the Ministry never attracted me as a career. Again, something we have in common, I think.’ Voldemort inclined his head, unsmiling, and took another sip of wine.” – Of course in book 7 Voldemort does infiltrate the Ministry of Magic, but he never becomes Minister of Magic, but rather uses a marionette to do his bidding. He could have gained power in a legal way, could have built up a terror regime as a Minister, but he was never interested in politics.

“‘The old argument,’ he said softly. ‘But nothing I have seen in the world has supported your famous pronouncements that love is more powerful than my kind of magic, Dumbledore.’ ‘Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places,’ suggested Dumbledore.” – First of all Dumbledore and Riddle seemed to have a similar conversation before. Second Dumbledore here tells Riddle exactly what will be his downfall. First defeated by the sacrifice of a loving mother, later (and finally) by the boy who cared too much, who was protected and did protect others with a magic Voldemort never understood: love.

“‘And what will become of those whom you command? What will happen to those who call themselves – or so rumour has it – the Death Eaters?’ Harry could tell that Voldemort had not expected Dumbledore to know this name; he saw Voldemort’s eyes flash red again and the slitlike nostrils flare. “ – Dumbledore himself admits how little there is to know what Voldemort did between the years when he left school and the ten years later when he appeared at Hogwarts again. So how come Dumbledore knew about the Death Eaters? Had he already been suspicious of Riddle when he left school and tried to gather as much information about him as he could? Voldemort still tries to keep up the façade of a young charming man; nobody is supposed to know yet he is the leader of a secret cult. But Dumbledore is already three steps ahead. He must have known or suspected that Riddle would become someone dangerous.

“‘No, nothing,’ said Dumbledore, and a great sadness filled his face. ‘The time is long gone when I could frighten you with a burning wardrobe and force you to make repayment for your crimes. But I wish I could, Tom … I wish I could …’” – Dumbledore was Riddle’s teacher, so in a way perhaps he saw him as his responsibility, and saw what had become of his student as his own failure.

“‘Oh, he definitely wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts job,’ said Dumbledore. ‘The aftermath of our little meeting proved that. You see, we have never been able to keep a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for longer than a year since I refused the post to Lord Voldemort.’” – So, the job is cursed, we know of one teacher who died (Quirell) and others who got seriously hurt (Lockhart, Moody, Umbridge). It seems Lupin did get away the best. But with that knowledge it does seem a bit irresponsible to offer anyone the job. I wonder if Snape knows the job is cursed or had his suspicions. And maybe that was another reason Dumbledore refused so long to give him the job: he had tried to protect Snape.

#Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince #Lord Voldemort's Request #chapter notes #hbp

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unstabletable69 · 5 years ago

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How I would fix Dragon Prince Season 1 Episodes 1-3

I really do enjoy the show and the story but there’s some minor things that just make the writing a BIIIIT weak to me. Now I realize being that each season is only 9 episodes means options are limited but I really feel like most things that needed to be better established could have been done with a few small changes in lines. Hindsight is 20/20 though so naturally writing this knowing what happens in season 3 means it’s a little different than if I didn’t know what was going to happen... now you would think most of the bigger plot points would be preplanned but some of the writing leads me to believe that a lot of the story has been made up as it progressed which isn’t a super bad thing but does leave a lot of messier ends and motivations that aren’t clear and not in a way that’s “oh wow this is so morally gray” more in a way of “oh wow that seems like a bunch of bad choices” ANYWAY here’s the first 3 episodes of season one and what I would change... might do more if anyone gets into this.

Season One Episode One- let’s still have the intro, but let’s have the moonshadow elves tell it; let’s show them putting their flowers in the water and talking about their targets, King Harrow and his son Ezran. Let’s have them talk about their plan to sneak in, get their targets and get out alive. Maybe talk about how much of an honor it is that the queen choose them for the mission. Let us have a group shot of the elven assassins to really show off that Rayla is significantly younger than the others. Now let’s cut to Callum and Ezran We could keep their scene the same but now when you see which one is Callum and which one is Ezran you’re automatically going to worry about what these elves are gonna do to Ezran because Oh FUCK he’s really really young and they didn’t talk about the king’s son as if he was really really young! Just like that the stakes feel higher. We can keep the scene with Rayla sparing Marcos the same now but because we included the moonshadow elves at the very beginning you don’t need to be told how badly she’s fucked the mission up for them by sparring him. Viren and Harrow’s first scene can stay but i do have a problem with Pip. There’s a rule in storytelling about not showing something if it’s not significant to the plot and while you may argue that Pip COULD eventually be significant we’re 3 seasons in and he’s had yet to do ANYTHING. but god I love birds so I don’t want to get rid of him. but we’re going to actually do stuff with him. So this scene stays totally the same including Pip Rayla’s scene with the fake blood stays the same Ezran, Bait and the Jelly Tarts? Let’s keep that the same it’s a perfect scene to establish their teamwork dynamic.

Soren and Claudia’s scene with Callum? keep it the same too. Keep the scene with Harrow and the princes I’m sure you’re seeing a trend by now, keep the scene with Viren Soren and Claudia Cut out the scene where Callum attempts to go with Soren, it makes NO sense to have because 1. Callum DOESN’T know what’s going on| 2. Callum JUST said they had to obey Harrow 3. Callum’s already been very honest about his lack of skill in these things and would understand that he’d be a liability. 4. It’s not exactly consistent with Soren’s character, yeah we saw him tease Callum but we also saw him try to help Callum impress his sister; he’s not the nicest guy but we’ve got plenty of opportunities to establish that. 5. Adding the moonshadow elves at the start means SOMETHING has to go. Keep the binding scene the same but make one change- when Rayla asks Runaan about what happens if the humans know their coming have him say something about how it’s a good thing she’s fixed that and how he’s proud of her. A change in the dialogue with this is gonna make more viewers worried about Rayla. We have a problem with Callum here, somehow he knows about the moonshadow elves but we’ve NEVER seen him get this information. Change one of his lines in his exchange with Ezran to include something about hearing the guards talking about moonshadow elves and how they’re in danger. Keep the moth scene, and cut the elves exchange short because now we don’t need Runaan to spell out the severity a simple “Rayla, you didn’t do it.” and end the episode Episode 2 Cut the elves and just open with Ezran and Callum Have Callum still try to apologize to Ezran but also throw in there about how he’s sure things will work out because Soren is handling stuff. Let’s establish that Claudia, Soren and even Viren are people he’s been raised around and people he trusts. Now show Runaan talking to Rayla, the exchange is the same and nothing of value was lost except elves polishing weapons which we’ve already seen Keep the scene with Callum and Claudia but maybe have Claudia suggest Callum just learn magic since he’s so interested- have Callum respond with King Harrow not giving her permission and squeeze in the changing places line. This way we establish that king Harrow isn’t exactly a fan of Dark Magic and we give Callum the seeds of valid interest in the subject and Claudia a willing teacher. get rid of the scene with Harrow and Viren We don’t need it now because Callum just said “king harrow doesn’t really like dark magic” Keep Claudia’s exchange with Viren

get rid of the scene where the guard tells Callum to go speak to Harrow, there’s way too much jumping around here and it’s not necessary. but cut on over to Rayla moving in on the castle and put in her lines about how she knows she can do it and Runaan is wrong about her Keep the scene with Harrow and Callum the same Replace Rayla’s scene with guards actually forming a party to take the princes to the banther lodge. Seriously the king ordered this in the morning and it’s afternoon now and originally the show pretty much just seems to forget about this which makes the king’s troops look REALLLLLY disorganized, like sure Ezran and Callum could be anywhere in the castle but originally we don’t see them making effort. now- FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SHOW EZRAN INTERACTING WITH PIP! Establish a reason for this bird to exist other than viewers to assume that it and Harrow trade places! If nothing else at all this will further establish Ezran’s fondness of animals. now keep Callum’s introduction to Rayla the same

Now because Rayla didn’t kill the two guards when running after Callum there SHOULD be some chaos in the castle, guards SHOULD be looking for the boys frantically Harrow should know that an elf has been spotted and this will make his less patient for Viren’s talk about using the soulfang serpent. Keep the scene with Ezran’s introduction to Rayla Before Harrow responds about the Soulfang Serpent plan have him ask if anyone has the wearabouts of the boys and if they were out of harm’s way Have Viren tell him that the boys are fine. The viewers can either take this as Viren being confident in the guard’s ability to keep the boys safe, Viren being more concerned with Harrow as an established target or as Viren being sketch. This is us seeing Viren do something questionable for the first time. now keep their argument the same Keep the scene where Ezran shows them the egg. Episode 3 We don’t need Harrow’s sadtime music march- we need to see the soldiers frantically searching for the boys and MAYBE we need to see Viren dismiss the guards in their concerns over the boys, maybe have him point out that the boys will be in danger on the roads, maybe have him say that the boys aren’t in danger at all because he genuinely doesn’t believe that they would be a target. Have his exchange with Caludia stay the same but end the exchange telling her he needs her to go protect the special asset in the basement. Keep all the scenes up till Callum goes to tell Harrow and Viren comes out. Keep Soren’t hesitation about grabbing Callum, but have the other guards still follow through keep it so that they look just as chill about this as they did originally not questioning Viren or his actions or even questioning why Callum isn’t away from the castle since it’s elf-attack o’clock. Make Soren look a TINY bit conflicted about this exchange! but every other guard is accepting it, every other guard is listening to the exchange and don’t bat an eye let’s really establish that CLEARLY a LOT of the crown guards trust Viren and might be more loyal to him than to Harrow because god knows if that wasn’t the case there’s no way Viren could get away with the things he gets away with. Hell maybe have Viren tell Callum he needs to go because it’s elf-attack o’clock and when the elves show up have Soren also tell Callum to go because he’s straight up in the way of the king’s defense. These aren’t big changes but it is gonna give Soren’s arc more ground and makes us question if Viren wanted Callum out of the way for his safety and maybe he was frustrated instead of us just going “wow look at this dick”

#the dragon prince #dragon prince #callum #ezran #soren #claudia #viren #rayla #season one #tweaks #rambles #language #strong language #i like cusswords #tdp

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araminia16 · 6 years ago

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Illness or Not? (Part 2-First Trimester) Rated T (Not an Illness After All)

“Wait, Rayla. Let me get that.” Callum hurried over to her and lifted the box in his stick-like arms. He struggled a little to put it up on the shelf and Rayla sighed softly in annoyance. She had been with child all of two weeks now and Callum as well as the rest of the male population seemed to think she couldn’t lift but a wee pinky lest she crumble like a castle made of sand. The first few days she thought it was adorable and sweet he wanted to make sure she didn’t overexert herself. Her energy level hadn’t improved with the past two weeks either though the nausea came and went at odd times.

He turned to her and his eyes widened as she took on a green tinge. He had darted across the bedroom to the lavatory as Rayla hurried before she began to heave up the contents of her breakfast. Callum took her pale hair in hand and held it back from her face as he rubbed her back in circles. The motion soothed her as the heaves subsided. He hated to see her sick but knew from what the healers had told them it should pass in a few weeks. “Water?”

“Yes.” She panted out and he handed her the glass next to him for just this situation. It never hurt to be over prepared. Rayla took a few swallows from her seat on the floor and sighed. “This little beast is already going to be punished before it’s even born.”

“It’s not the baby’s fault.”

“No. It’s yours.” She grumbled and stood as he let her hair fall back. “You and your--.” She gestured to his groin. “I wouldn’t be in this mess without that.”

“Excuse me. It takes two to make a child and you didn't’ complain when it happened. In fact I think I heard the words ‘Callum please. I need you.’ So don’t give me that.” He realized he had probably said the wrong thing when her eyes narrowed.

He didn’t wait for her to land her blow to the side of his head. “What did you just say then? I think I misheard you.”

“Sorry, Rayla. I didn't’ mean it. It’s just I’m--.” He dodged a projectile thrown his way as he darted across the room.

“Ya didn’t mean it? Well how about you carry this wee creatures inside ya then? Have it upset your stomach and breasts and make ya feel so tired you can barely keep yer eyes open? I could sit there and spout about how it takes two.” She lobbed pillows and clothes at him mostly until they both were winded. Then after a beat tears began to pour down her cheeks and she wailed. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to try to hurt ya.”

He approached then more comfortable with her tears than her rage. He managed to sit onto the bed and pull her into his shoulder as her body heaved with sobs. “Shhh. It’s okay. I shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He rubbed her back as she wet his clothes and sniffled.

The mood swings were something they were both now used to. Her rage, then sadness, then happiness and nausea were interchangeable at the drop of a hat. Callum could usually navigate them decently well and keep her happy but there were times where he couldn’t.

“I’m hungry but the potions aren’t working to keep me from being ill. I can’t eat and I just want ta sleep but I can’t. I need ta train and keep up watch for Ezran.”

That had been a topic of discussion since her pregnancy had been revealed. Her work as a member of the Crownguard. More than qualified when she came to live in Katolis Ezran had fervently agreed to her appointment and she had more than proved her worth in the past few years to him. She wanted to continue to train and serve and Callum had some concerns about both those things.

“Will you want to guard him up to when it’s born?” He asked quietly.

“Well no, of course no’.” She mumbled into his shoulder, “Just fer now. I’m not even showing and it’s barely bigger than a seed from what they told us. The healer said I could do everything I did before.”

“I know but maybe you should think about taking a few days to rest.”

She didn’t reply and he looked down to find her eyes closed and in a light doze on his shoulder.

Callum bent down to kiss her head, “I love you.”

She mumbled something back to him as he shifted her around and laid back onto the bed with her head still cradled atop his shoulder. At least she slept now.

But as they thought the nausea had improved one day a week later they were proved wrong as every little change in motion, scent or just a stray wind had her at the lavatory. Callum sat at her side and offered her sips of fizzed water with crackers. A remedy for nausea one of the older ladies had given him. Rayla tried to take in the water she lost with each upheaval to her digestion as best as she had been able and they thought they could beat it. The tonics didn’t work and each day she weakened.

Bedridden now at a solid week of nothing but vomit Callum carried Rayla to the physician and once the healer laid eyes on her he rushed over and barked orders to his assistants. Callum couldn’t hear them for the way Rayla’s chest seemed to rise and fall too fast and the thready way her heart beat in her wrist as he pulled it up to his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Rayla croaked out to the healer. “Is the bairn well?”

Callum cared about the baby. Of course he did but the baby was nothing compared to her. Whatever this was would kill her if it kept up. “Let’s worry about you right now.”

“You seem to have one of the worse case of morning sickness I have seen yet.”

“What does that mean?” Callum didn’t mean to sound harsh but he couldn’t help it.

“It happens sometimes to mothers. No one is quite sure why. Something their bodies make too much of is the theory. Most recover with time.” The unspoken end to his sentence set Callum’s heart to ice.

“How do we fix it?”

“How long has she been this way?” The physician pinched up her skin and watched as it tented and fell back into place slowly. He took stock of her eyes, then of her mouth where she bared her teeth at him. “

“A week. I thought we were keeping ahead of it.”

“Apparently not. She should have been brought here on the third day. Has she been eating?”

Callum already felt as if he had failed as a husband and now a father in name only. “No. Of course not. She keeps throwing everything up. Water. Crackers. She’s dry and hungry and nothing comes up but bile anymore.” He half yelled as his fists clenched and the air around them sped up.

The healer put his hands up in placation as Rayla extended a weak hand to Callum to reassure him and he tried to relax.

“There are things we can do. Try hydration, a topical mixture, to attempt to contact Elven healers aside from the one who treated you before.” He trailed off and looked uncomfortable then cleared his throat. “Or the most drastic would be to induce a delivery and your symptoms would resolve after the--.”

“No.” Rayla struggled to sit up and put a protective hand over her belly. “No. I will not do that to my child.”

“You heard her. Now fix her.”

“Surely you could find some way to heal her as a mage, Prince Callum?”

“Healing has never been my strength.” Callum stroked her wrist with his thumb.

“Very well.” The healer nodded. Lycas. That was the healers name Callum remembered now.

“Thank you, Lycas.” He nodded and looked back at Rayla who offered him a smile of reassurance.

Luckily, after he spoke via ravens with the healers from the other kingdoms he crafted a hollow needle and tube connected to a bag of water with components within which should calm her nausea. Callum wasn’t sure what it all was about by Lycas seemed confident it should work.

The first day yielded little in result and Rayla continued to vomit up whatever in her stomach she attempted to eat though the assistants had to keep her arm straight as she moved.

The second day was better. She was able to drink and eat a little. The third even better and the by the fourth she had devoured breakfast, lunch and dinner and wanted more food. Ravenous had been the word of the day while Callum brought her every little morsel of food he could. Ezran came to visit a while on the second day and they joked and played cards. It was a favorite pastime between the two of them he hadn’t had much to do with. It had always been better with the three of them.

Rayla smiled at Callum. Her husband and all the love she felt for him doubled, tripled every day and she leaned over a kissed him when he seemed distracted. “What are ya thinking about then?” Her eyes were bright and her skin a healthier sheen.

“Too much.” He offered with a smile and kissed her back. “You almost died. And I can’t help but think it was my fault.”

“No. Not yours.”

“I thought about it.” He confessed softly. “To sacrifice it to save you. I thought maybe elves and humans were never supposed to have children and this was a sign.” He looked down at his hands in shame.

“I know. I was so miserable I even thought about it for a moment. A heartbeat. There’s always another way and we found it again. We are really good at it. Just look at us. An elf and human. With a bairn that could have pinkoes and horns or even a tail for all I know.”

“A tail?” He arched an eyebrow at her.

“Well. Maybe not a tail.” She laughed.

Footsteps and a throat being cleared brought their dual attention to Lycas with a smile on his face. “I am going to release you. But if you should feel even the slightest bit like you did before I want you to come here right away. Don’t wait. Until then you must rest and recuperate. I have given strict orders to the King about your well being and he knows about your bedrest.”

Callum grinned triumphantly, “See. Rest.”

She punched him in the shoulder, “Fine. Get this thing out of my arm. I want to go back to my own bed to ‘rest’.” She spat the word out as if it were a dirty thing.

“I love you.” He whispered in her ear as Lycas left after he pulled the hollow tube from her arm and covered it with a bandage.

“You too, my dumb human. Let’s go.”

XxOxX

As requested here’s a part two. I will do four parts. Each covers a trimester and then birth with some newborn stuff. I’m not sure if this lived up to the hype but I just followed my muse. There will be another chapter in a few days so just keep an eye out. :) Second trimester comes a lot more fluff. It’s more fun without all the fatigue and nausea. Trust me.

#the dragon prince #fanfiction #rated t #rayllum #rayla x callum #callum #rayla #pregnancy #hyperemesis gravidarum #medical talk #fluff #angst #talk of ending pregnancy #ezran #tdp #Illness prompt #Illness or Not?

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dargonwriter · 6 years ago

Link

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)

Relationship:

Runaan/Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)

Characters:

Runaan (The Dragon Prince)

Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)

Original Characters

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Alternate Universe

Slow Burn

Friends to Lovers

Bonding

Team Dynamics

Action/Adventure

Minor Character Death

Language: English Published: 2018-11-20 Updated: 2019-05-07 Words: 38956 Chapters :9/? Comments: 57 Kudos: 84 Bookmarks: 11 Hits: 1101

CHAPTER 9 IS UP!

It took me longer than expected, since it’s one of my longest ones yet at over 8000 words, but it was fun to do I guess! You can click the link to read on AO3 or you could read below!

Gray followed the young man easily down the maze of hallways and doors. In truth, he didn't need an escort to find where they were heading, nor did he need a companion in case he was attacked, Gray simply found it amusing how the guard acted. He was clearly afraid, on edge. Gray could see in in every step, every glance back, every breath even. Good. Gray preferred people to fear him than to like him. It prevented an uprising, if people decided their debt to Gray didn't matter then it would be a mess for him to clean. Gray wasn't one for undue messes.

This young man likely had no true debt to Gray, likely it was the boy's parents who owed and he was simply trying to help. Gray found that those who only wanted to assist their parents in paying off their debts were more useful than those who owed directly. Sure, the loyalty could waver, but they would be willing to go far in order to help. Like the one who had stolen the Unitum from Xadia, Morti. His parents had owed and all of their children were helping, but Morti had the most conviction of his siblings. A shame he died... He would've made a great man one day.

Gray continued to follow as they descended some steps and the halls got colder and darker. The usual flames were changed and swapped out for blue fire that sucked the heat out of the room and only barely provided one the ability to see a few feet in front of them. The soldier in front of him shivered. Gray could see both of their breaths at every exhale. Perhaps, Gray thought, the cold this far from their destination was a bit excessive, but he didn't want to run the risk of his special prisoner escaping. The best way to do that was by cold.

They stopped at a door of stone, not iron or steel or any metal. Thick, heavy stone that the guard had to push out of the way with all his strength. Gray waited until the door was fully opened, and the guard was standing beside it, all but heaving as more puffs of hot air left his mouth. Gray entered.

The room was even colder in here, despite the real torches in each corner of the room. Gray had a feeling he knew as to why.

He scanned the room. Two beds on either side of the room were empty, the thin sheets for blankets still thrown around in the same position as the last 3 times Gray had visited. They hadn't been touched in weeks. Not since the first elf had died. So Gray began searching the corners and there he saw who he was looking for.

Huddled in a corner, shaking as he all but pressed himself into a flame was a male sunfire elf. His black hair had long since become a mess, so different from the shine of it when Gray had first gotten him. The bright yellow markings snaking down the elf's arms contrasted sharply with his dark skin, yet it seemed... off. The markings seemed to have dulled since the last time Gray had seen them. Almost as much as the elf's eyes had. His ears were arched downwards, his head rested against a wall. He was sick. That much had already been clear, but seeing the elf like this only confirmed what Gray had been told.

He walked forward, noting how the elf didn't even respond but to look up with weak eyes. At one point, this elf had been a warrior, and each time Gray got close the sunfire would attempt to attack. Even as the cold did as Gray had intended it to and broke down the elf's resolve, the elf usually at least flashed a snarl before giving in. Now, he barely flinched when Gray reached forward and grabbed the elf's chin. The elf closed his eyes in defeat, even pressing into the touch. Gray squeezed, hard enough to leave bruises, but all he received as a reaction was a weak whimper. This elf wasn't going to survive much longer.

Gray knew what caused this, it was obvious. The cold. The frigid temperatures. Sunfire elves were terrible with cold. Like heated metal suddenly dipped into a frozen lake, they tended to break after being faced with the cold long enough. But one problem with them was that if they warmed again, all that work went to waste. So they needed to constantly be in cold in order to not fight. But... Being in the cold after so long began making them sick, to a point where they couldn't generate their own heat at all anymore and thus only continued to freeze. They all died soon after.

And it probably didn't help that Gray stole their magic in short bursts as well. Elves were one of the few beings who could withstand having half of their magic taken away and survive it, then even replenish it after some time. That's why the flames were in the cell, so magic could be regenerated. But the flames only worked so well. And this particular elf was already so upset after the other elf, a female sunfire he had been captured with, had gotten sick first and had died not a month ago.

It would be best to put him out of his misery now.

Gray pulled out a pocket watch from inside his cloak with his free hand. The sunfire elf opened his eyes slightly, a mix of emotion in his eyes. Fear, curiosity, pain... But one unmistakable one was the pleading, hopeless expression. He was begging for Gray to end it.

Who was Gray to deny someone their final wish?

He let go of the other's chin, only to go to the broken horns of the warrior. He grabbed onto one, pulled the elf's head back and brought the pocketwatch down so it was barely below the other's lips, then softly began chanting.

The elf barely screamed as the last of his life drained into the pocket watch, and he fell completely limp.

Ephraim the guard peered into the room at exactly the wrong moment. A gasp escaped his lips as he saw the sunfire elf drop, terrified green eyes going wide. Then Gray turned to look at him.

Gray was suddenly pale, with what seemed to be dark blue cracks going over his face. Veins. He looked like he was the one sick, instead of the sunfire elf, with dark circles under his eyes and cracked lips as well. Ephraim looked away before he did something he'd regret, but it was already too late.

Gray walked out of the cell, not even batting an eye at the dead body he left behind, and fixed his dark-eyed gaze on Ephraim. He reached up with a hand, also pale and cracked and terrifying, and placed it on Ephraim's cheek. It felt like sandpaper. "Thank you for telling me."

Gray said with an almost smile, but twisted beyond recognition. Ephraim suppressed a shiver from both cold and the creeps.

"We should head back up." Gray said suddenly, leading the way out and clearly expecting Ephraim to follow. He shot Ephraim another smile, then said "Your family would be most disappointed if you never returned to them."

Ephraim was unsure of what the other meant, but disobeying was a death wish.

Another breath, another step.

Another shiver.

"...Tinker..."

Apollo whined as he was shaken awake by a firm hand, pressing into it on instinct but still keeping his eyes closed.

"Tinker."

He knew it was Runaan, trying to wake him up, and Runaan wasn't the type to wait about waking someone, but Apollo also knew the sun wasn't even rising yet. It was too early for this... "No." He whined softly, burying his face into one of the bags he had reclaimed from Spiel's little nest.

"We have to get up. The humans have already set up their booths and carts again, we need to go." Another shake.

Apollo worked open one eye, only to glare at Runaan with it. At least the assassin looked tired as well... "Can't it wait? I'm hardly any use before sunrise." He turned over so his back was to the other.

"No." Runaan said simply. Apollo groaned and closed his eyes again.

...It was too early for this kind of thing...

Runaan ended up having to half drag Tinker out of camp before the sunfire finally began walking on his own. At least he had settled into a tired compliance.

It was quiet, which was a change not unwelcome after travelling with the other elves for so long. He took the time to look around him while Tinker continued to on, half asleep behind him. Tinker hadn't been joking about being useless before sunrise...

The sun was barely rising now, the trees were changing from the dark purple shade they often took at night, to the normal brown of the day. Deep blue leaves turned to green as small rays of light shot through the many trunks. Birds began chirping shortly afterwards, filling the forest with lively noises.

The pair pulled up their hoods and put on their gloves before following the gravel path leading to the human town. As Runaan pulled on his left one, he felt the cold of metal inside. The ring. He had put it in there the night before when he fell asleep, as to not mess up the puzzle. He glanced over at Tinker and the thought the night before returned: Maybe the sunfire would be in higher hopes if Runaan presented the ring back to him...

He slipped the circular, metal puzzle out from the glove and looked over it once more. It had been rather complicated, he had to admit. He had barely gotten more than a few hours of sleep the night before because he was trying to figure it out. He looked at Tinker once more, then spoke up.

"Tinker."

The sunfire's bright eyes lifted and found Runaan's quickly. He looked startled.

Runaan fought off a small smile at the expression, instead holding the ring out in his flat hand. Tinker stopped walking. "You solved it." He observed, his started expression changing to simple surprise and... Was that Pride or something else?

Either way, the smith took the ring and looked it over with a smile. Cute. "It was rather difficult." Runaan admitted with a hum. "But yes, I did." Before the sunfire could say anything else, Runaan watched the path through the trees and took the sunfire by the shoulders, then all but steered the elf towards the town.

The town was lively even at this early hour. Unlike when they had first arrived the day before, when the sun had already been up for hours, the town was calm, quiet as people set up carts or booths and spoke to one another or set out merchandise. Perhaps it had been a mistake to arrive this early after all. People were barely setting up, which meant very little would happen until more people began waking up.

Tinker hummed. "It seems we have some time to spare." Indeed they did. "Well, yesterday I saw a little area perfect for sleeping in for an hour or two so you have fun being your broody assassin self." He did a salute like Spiel and Runaan did, apparently it was unconscious as the sunfire turned away without second word and walked away. Runaan watched the sunfire disappear behind a house, arms crossed, an amused smile on his face.

Tinker was certainly something else.

Astil didn't dream often.

In fact, she hardly slept much at all, but when she did it was always something of note. Good or bad, it almost always had something to do with the future.

First, she stood low on a tree, watching a fortress with glowing torches lighting the whole night around it. Runaan crouched beside her, holding one of the two swords Tinker had made such a fuss about. "We need to get past the guards." The assassin said, watching the fortress. He seemed tired.

Astil looked up at the moon. Full. Yet, a blink later and it was new, and there were nothing but stars. Astil and Runaan were no longer on a tree, instead on rocky soil behind a large rock, and with a look around she realized his weapons were not the same. "Astil?" The moonshadow asked, looking at her. She looked back at him quickly. He was worried now, but determined, and with something in his eyes that hadn't been there a moment ago. Care.

Astil opened her mouth to respond, but everything faded to the very stars above and a moment after she was in an empty hallway lit with dark blue torches. She felt cold. The walls were of stone, so was the ground. There wasn'tr a single star here. "Astil!!" A scream erupted from somewhere behind her. She whirled around, only to be in another hall, this one with walls of wood and red carpets. Runaan approached, a frown on his face. In his arms was an unconscious Tinker.

Another blink, it was Rainy in Runaan's arms. She was covered in blood and burns. Astil gasped and tried to rush forward, but something grabbed onto her leg and she fell. As she struck the floor, she found she struck mud instead of carpet. She realized soon enough that she was surrounded by human soldiers. Everyone but Rainy was present. Spiel and Runaan were both on their knees, held down by multiple men with swords held at their throats. One of Spiel's wings were wrapped in a messily made cast of sorts, and by his expression, the guard who held onto that particular wing to keep it still was pressing hard enough to make it hurt.

Astil was still on the ground, a hand was pressed on her back, forcing her down even as she struggled. Dustin stood, but had his arms roughly held behind his back. In the center of the half circle formed was Tinker, who wasn't being held down at all, but in front of the sunfire elf stood a figure of a man. Astil couldn't make it out in the darkness. They were speaking, but the words were lost on Astil. Behind the man was some sort of weapon...

The unitum.

The figure said something, then seemed to smirk as the sunfire suddenly turned with wild eyes toward Runaan and Spiel.

"Wait- NO!"

Blood pounded in Astil's ears as she saw the flick of motion and one of the two elves held by the soldiers was released. He fell to the ground. Astil couldn't see which one it had been as her vision blurred, and the only thing clear was the dark crimson of blood as it slowly pooled out of her friend's neck. She fought and shook, struggling just as Tinker rushed forward towards the body, only to be held back by the figure.

She watched in horror as Tinker was yanked back into his conversation with the figure. Someone grabbed one of her horns and pulled her head up, then placed something sharp and cold against her neck. Her breath hitched, then she stopped breathing altogether. Tinker turned to look back, his eyes meeting Astil's. As soon as he had looked at her, though, he went back to his conversation with the figure. His ears moved and twitched as he pleaded and negotiated.

Astil watched, pushing past forming black spots in her vision. But soon, darkness overtook her and everything faded to black.

She woke with a loud gasp, shooting up and looking around, panting as she tried to regain her breath. She was still in the forest, but it was sunny and she wasn't in the same clearing. She relaxed with a soft sigh, reminding herself that it had been a dream.

No. Not a dream. Startouches didn't dream. That had been a vision.

She began shaking, and hugged her knees to her chest to keep some semblance of balance when her arms shook too bad to hold her up. Her breathing became uneven, and for the first time in a long time, she felt tears well in her eyes. She had never had a vision before, they were rare even among elders...

Visions showed things that were set in stone, not up to probability.

Which meant that someone would die.

Tinker hummed as he awoke again, soaking in the light from the sun now above him. He had specifically chosen this spot because of its position. The wall was rather rough, but it was in the perfect spot to sit if one wanted to absorb the sunlight.

There was a quiet noise above him and he looked up quickly, only to find a certain assassin standing on the roof above him, looking down at him. What was it with the moonshadow and being high up? "I would think you part skywing with how you constantly choose the sky over the ground." He called, receiving a chuckle from Runaan.

"That would imply that I like heights." He jumped down suddenly, landing with a quick roll and coming up to his feet easily. Tinker wondered how he could do that without being phased at all. If Tinker tried that, he'd probably break something. He wanted to ask.

Instead, the comment about heights caught his attention. He watched Runaan come closer. "You don't like heights?" He was an assassin, how did he not?

"It's an odd fear, isn't it?" Runaan asked, as if he wasn't phased by Tinker's surprise. "I've never been interested in being in high places. Yes, I can easily catch myself or break my fall if I need, and I haven't fallen since I was younger, but it's the idea that I could fall. If I lean over the edge of something, it's much like a tingling feeling, as if my head will suddenly lose its wits and force the rest of me to slip. It's an odd feeling to describe." He lifted his arms and scooped his hair into his hands to pull it back behind his shoulders, he didn't have a string to tie it back with so he let it go, only for a few stray pieces to fall around his face again. He gave a small sigh and tried to flick them back. Apparently he was done explaining because he said "Let's head back the buying area. We still need the map."

Tinker followed happily, now that the sun was up and his energy was back he didn't mind going back to what they had left off doing the night before. Except this time he had a different idea. He pulled out a dagger from, grabbing the moonshadow's attention next to him. "Where did you get that?"

The dagger was silver, with a deep fuller on either side. The guard was designed to look like wings, wrapping around the base of the blade some with carefully designed feathers. In the center of where the wings met was a single blue crystal surrounded by a thin circle of darker gray silver. The grip was just a deep blue ribbon wrapped tightly around the tang, but Tinker had made sure it wouldn't come loose. The small pommel was another blue crystal attacked to a metal piece that screwed in, as the hilt itself was hollow and could hold most liquids without any escaping unless someone were to press the crystal on the wings.

Tinker was rather proud of it. Still, he shrugged. "I grabbed it beforen we left. New plan."

"If you plan to stab someone with that, I just want to make sure you know how little damage that thing could do."

The comment drew a small laugh from the sunfire as he quickly shook his head. "I intend to trade it." Upon receiving a curious look from the assassin, he began explaining. "Last time, we had nothing obvious that we were willing to trade, today I have something I'm willing to part with." His excited smile turned into a small frown when Runaan made an amused noise.

"By all means, go up to a human whilst holding a dagger like that, see what happens."

Tinker sighed but placed the dagger back in its sheath on his belt and followed as the assassin led the way through the crowded streets, weaving between around men and woman who were either talking to one another or simply checking through their bags. The first three places they tried were dead ends, and the fourth nearly got them arrested because, yeah, apparently humans didn't take calmly to other people pulling out knives.

That didn't stop Tinker though. "Okay, what if we just sold the dagger?" Tinker suggested as they hid between two buildings while some guards walked by. They were so close to getting arrested.

The look he received from the assassin ignited something in Tinker, and the response even more so. "I doubt anyone would know who buys and trades goods like weapons."

After that, as soon as Runaan said they were clear Tinker darted through the streets. Despite Runaan's surprised shout, Tinker kept going. He had seen a sign earlier about buying and selling goods.

He stopped, practically panting once he reached said cart, run by a happy looking man who didn't have to try to remind Tinker of Riku when he had been younger. He smiled. "I heard you bought other people's things."

"Yes, we do." The man looked surprised, to say the least. "But I have too many thing right now to purchase anything else." Tinker frowned and suppressed a whine.

Well there went his idea. "Okay. Thank you for your time..." He mumbled, about to leave, ears lowering beneath his hood,

The man's eyes widened as he quickly added "But if you need money or to sell something, there is an auction start here in about an hour, you could try that. It's run by a friend, he'll walk you through the process."

Tinker's ears lifted again, as did his mood. He smiled and barely thanked the man before he headed back to Runaan, dodging men and women alike as he did so.

As he got closer, he slowed down to make it seem like he wasn't excited, instead putting on a smug attitude. Luckily, Runaan had barely moved from the alleyway and just glared as Tinker approached.

"I found a solution."

Great lakes it was burning up...

Rainy fanned herself with a hand desperately, but the air did nothing to help her. She needed water. It was hot enough in the ocean during the summer, but of course on land she was dried out, exhausted, and overheating. Their little boat ride over lava hadn’t helped either.

Dustin crossed his arms as he glared at her. "What are you doing?" Maybe she was being a little dramatic with the hand waving thing but it was just common sense to not let an oceanmist overheat.

"I'm dying..." She answered back, falling back onto the ground behind her. "It's too hot. I need water." Something cold tapped her shoulder, and she looked up to see Spiel behind her, holding a water can to her arm. She couldn't help but smile at his goofy expression. "Not like that, like something I could swim in, but thanks."

Dustin scoffed. Actually scoffed. "Well, we can't leave camp so you'll just have to wait until Tinker and Runaan come back."

"Astil left."

The way Dustin froze, it made Rainy giggle some despite the heat. "Yes- well... Astil's doing-"

"Girl stuff?" Spiel offered in a monotone voice, but Dustin quickly corrected.

"Startouch stuff."

"At least he didn't actually agree with girl stuff." Rainy shrugged to Spiel, who held up his hands in a defensive gesture. His wings rose a little as well. A growl from Dustin took her attention, and she glanced back at him to find him standing from where he sat on a log. "Where are you going?" She asked, tilting her head as he turned and began heading to the edge of the clearing.

He didn't glance back as he answered "To find Astil."

"What happened to-" Before Spiel could even finish his sentence, Dustin was gone "-not leaving camp... Ass."

All day Gray had been searching for whatever had drawn him to stay here, yet still, nothing presented itself to him. Everything was the same as before, the people greeted 'Ronin' without even questioning who he was, the shopkeepers sold nothing different, there wasn't even rumors of a shipment of new magical items coming in. And yet... That feeling of expecting something here still stayed.

He soon began aimlessly wandering about, hoping that perhaps whatever called him would just jump out at him at random.

How right he had been.

"Any minute, folks!" Someone shouted, drawing Gray's attention from the cobble street below him. He looked up, finding the voice. And announcer stood on a makeshift wooden stage made out of some pieces of wood nailed together, but it worked to let him be seen, even over the crowd of people already gathering to see what the announcer was speaking about. Gray had to admit: The man's enthusiasm was quite a feat. "Five minutes until the auction starts! And this one, I have a feeling, is one you wouldn't want to miss!"

Well… Gray had nothing better to do with his time he supposed.

He stepped into the crowd, pushing past people until he was in a comfortable spot to see everything that would be presented. “Thirty seconds!” The announcer called later. Someone suddenly bumped into Gray, and he turned to see a dark face under a hood.

“Sorry.” They said, before a second hooded man grabbed his arm and pulled him closer into the center with a gloved hand

Cloaks and hoods on such a hot day? Intriguing.

He glanced back at the pair, studying them even though their back was turned toward him. One dressed in primarily greens and teals, with multiple layers of clothing it seemed. There was a cloak wrapped around his shoulders, hiding most of his shoulders and upper arms underneath it. He was taller, practically towering over everyone else there, even his companion. Gray was perplexed.

The other one dressed in primarily red, orange, and yellow, colors mainly found in the upper class, yet their hood was made from leaves, sticks, and even feathers it seemed. So different from his clothes. His arms were also covered in a cloth of a brown color than anything, not exactly off from the red, but certainly contrasted. Almost as if these two didn't understand fashion at all. They did seem completely out of place here.

He moved closer, making sure to keep his distance. The taller one kept his head down, hiding every part of his face except for his mouth and just the shadow of his nose. The shorter, though, had his head up and was looking around, every once in awhile whispering things to the taller stranger, who frowned and muttered something having to do with 'attention' each time. Most of the short one's face was hidden as well, but he could at least see the other's eyes, they practically seemed to glow after all.

What was more interesting, though, were their hands. Both of them wore gloves, as he had seen earlier, but the taller one had his hands clasped together. The interest in that: Only three fingers and his thumb were clasped on each hand, the pinky was sticking up.

Gray checked the other one as well, and though it took some watching, it was similar that when the stranger closed his hand, his pinky didn't even move. How odd...

He reached into his bag and pulled out the dead shell of a lady bug, then held it close to his mouth and prepared to speak words over it, but the announcer speaking stopped him.

"Alright, folks, bidding's open." The announcer said, making even the taller stranger look up. Gray muttered a curse under his breath and pocketed the ladybug again, then looked up at the announcer continued. "The first thing on the table today is a previously used but well taken care of saddle. Bid starts at twenty pieces! Twenty, twenty, can I get- Twenty! Alright, twenty five? Twenty- Yes!-" Gray sighed and blocked the announcer's voice out, instead going back to studying the hooded strangers. While shorter seemed interested in the saddle, he did seem interested in anything that moved, so Gray ignored him and shifted to look at the taller again instead. He had looked down again, apparently not interested in the saddle.

The entire time the saddle was on the block, neither bid, nor even discussed it.

Three other things were bid as well: A clock, a vase, and some sort of tool that Gray could care less about, but none of those times did either man seem even remotely interested.

The fifth item that came up though...

"Next up is a beautiful little dagger, pure, real sapphires, made solely out of steel and silver." People whistled as the weapon was brought forth, some gave interested 'oohs' as well. Even Gray's attention was captured, the way it caught the sunlight made it almost seem to glow.

It was silver in color, the part around the blade itself looked like wings, wrapping around the sharp metal some with carefully designed feathers. In the center, a single blue crystal surrounded by a thin circle of darker gray sat alone, soaking in and reflecting the light around it. The bottom half of it wasn't as intricate as the first half, with a simple blue ribbon as a grip and and another, rounder, sapphire pommel. Still, as a whole it was stunning. And more than likely very valuable. Gray wouldn't be surprised if the starting price was up in the twenties, or possibly even the thirties.

"It's up." He heard the shorter stranger say. Gray managed to take his eyes off the weapon to look at the pair, to find the one dressed in red lightly pushing the other one. The taller looked up, then nodded.

So these two were connected to the knife in some way.

That made it infinitely more valuable to the curious mage.

The announcer let people gawk, then shouted "Bidding starts at six pieces!"

What?

The people around him had a similar reaction, wondering why it was so cheap. Some became weary in that moment, others became excited at the price they could afford.

Gray glanced at the pair, only to find the short one practically beaming from where he stood, and the taller making a tight line of his lips.

He expected them to be the first to bid, they looked as if they would, but alas it was someone else who raised his hand when the announcer prompted for six. Then ten. By the time the number reached fifteen, Gray knew for sure. If these men weren't trying to buy the knife that only meant one other thing.

They were trying to sell it.

Which meant they needed the money or they needed to get rid of it.

Either way, Gray wanted the weapon even more now. It was the key to unlocking who these two strange men were. He raised a hand and shouted “Twenty-five!” then smirked when the announcer pointed at him.

“Twenty five, we got twenty five, can we get a Thirt- Thirty!” He pointed at another young man who had raised his hand.

Another shouted out “Thirty five,” And received recognition from the announcer.

“Thirty five, let’s go up to fort-” Gray raised his hand pointedly, noticing quickly how the first man frowned and dropped his own hand. So forty was the limit for him. How much was the other one’s limit?

He spoke up, looking at the other challenger as he shouted “Fifty!” As loud as he could. He smirked as he saw all the hope leave the man’s eyes, replaced by disdain. There it was.

“Fifty, fifty? Can we jump another ten? Sixty? No? Very well! Going once, going twice!”

A beat of silence. Gray found himself focused not on his prize, though, instead staring at the strangers again. Even the taller one was now watching, intent. Gray could now see his eyes and nose as well as just his mouth, in fact. Something was off now that he saw the taller one’s face… Gray couldn’t tell what, but his face seemed darker than Gray had thought a moment ago. Almost like…

“Sold! Come get your prize after the auction!”

Gray sighed, the thought being cut off by the announcer’s ‘announcement.’ He merely nodded at the man on stage, then glanced back at the tall stranger. His head was down again. Gray nearly cursed under his breath.

Oh well. Soon he would meet these two strangers.

And figure out why they were here.

“Astil?” Dustin called, weaving through the trees in search of the startouch, his frustration growing with each step he took. They had orders to stay and for once he had to agree with the one who dealt them. They couldn’t afford to be separated, especially not this close to a human town. In case something happened, it would be better if they stuck together as much as they could so no one got hurt.

Which was why he was searching for Astil.

He had never been good with trees, not as much as he was good with dirt, but he at least knew how to track.

There were various dips in the dirt and the decaying leaves, caused by Astil no doubt. She stepped lightly, and it was difficult to make out a bootprint and prove it was hers, but Dustin had figured it out after a moment. Now he followed.

He froze when he pushed past two trees, entering a clearing, and in that clearing was Astil.

She was clearly upset. She had her knees pulled to her chest, her arms resting on top of them, and her head buried in her arms. Her hair fell against her back, messy and filled with dirt and sticks. Had she been laying down?

“Astil?” He asked, the frustration melting away to worry as he heard a few sobs escape the startouch.

Her head shot up, she looked at him. A few trails of almost glowing tears ran down her face, dripping onto her pale clothes. Her eyes were wide, revealing the pale yellow they were. She actually looked surprised. Dustin’s anger melted more.

He stepped forward. “Hey… You alright?”

“Fine.” She shot back, wiping her face and getting up quickly enough. Dustin didn’t believe her. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You disappeared on us.” He pointed out, lowering his voice some when he heard how defensive she sounded. “Rainy was worried. Do… Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” He sighed when she shook her head. “Astil, please. As your teammate, I have to know.”

She glared at him. “It’s nothing I can tell.”

“A vision?”

She released a shaky breath and merely nodded, but nothing more

Whatever she had seen in that vision… It wouldn’t be good.

Rainy was getting worse.

At first, it was just some mild complaining, now she had gone silent and was practically panting as she practically leaned over the water canister Spiel had handed her. She was not okay.

Spiel sighed. His flapping was barely helping at this point, and he could fly quite awhile without getting tired but just flapping for no reason except to push air? That was a different story... So he slowed the wing beats until he stopped completely, taking care to make sure she hadn't noticed. Both to his relief, and to his concern, she didn't even make a noise of acknowledment, only panting more.

She really needed to cool off...

He looked up at the sky, partially blocked by the branches of the tree overhead but otherwise clear of even a single cloud. The sun was nearly completely above them. "I'll be back." He told her, only recieving a hum in response.

He didn't want to go, in case something happened he wanted to be there to help, but it would only take a few minutes to find the river nearby, then he could return and take her there. With a plan in mind, he spread his wings, nodded at her once, then took off into the sky.

He hadn't left.

Astil was happy for the comfort, but at the same time, Dustin hadn't left which gave Astil no time to think over the vision and try to sort it out. Visions were never that straight forward, she heard. There were mixes, twists, sometimes one situation was actually at another place in time and other times they were in the same time, but with the wrong person involved. It was all so confusing...

Dustin had apparently sensed her shift, why was her ability to mask emotions so difficult to reset? "Astil?" He asked softly. They had only known each other for a few days but the one word was the quietest he had best since they met. She couldn't help but give a surprised look. He must have taken it wrong, because even softer, even with a tinge of worry, he asks "Are you sure you can't talk about it? It may help."

"I can't risk you trying to change anything, or telling anyone." She responded with a soft shake of his head. This was a burden of her-

She couldn't even finish the thought as he grabbed her by the shoulders and looked straight at her with meaning filled brown eyes. She froze, shocked at his movement and even more shocked at how serious he sounded as he said, very carefully. "I won't do either. I swear it upon the very earth we sit on, I will even swear it on your stars if I must. Even if I have to swear myself to complete silence, I will still do it if it helps you." A pause. Neither spoke for a moment, Astil frozen by his words, Dustin because he looked like he, too, was about to start crying. Then, softly, "I don't want to see you, of everyone else here, upset."

Astil had been told when she was younger that she could only tell the elders if she ever had a vision, that they would always help her sort it out. However, they weren't here. Dustin was. He wanted to help...

She took a shaky breath, looking down to avoid his gaze as she decided.

Then, hesitantly and with a sense of worry so unlike her, she told him.

Everything.

“Rainy?” Spiel asked as he landed back into the center of camp again. His eyes widened when he saw her, and rushed forward. She was resting against a tree trunk, looking like she was about to pass out. Oceanmists really could not handle the heat, could they? “Hey, hey,” He said quickly, gathering her in his arms.

She hummed, managing a confused look before going limp against him, completely out of it. She needed to cool off now.

“Hold on.” He said, sliding off the pair of goggles he wore and securing them over his eyes. Man… It sucked when he had to fight the wind getting in his eyes… But it would be worse for her. He made sure to hold on to her with his arms, then spread his wings and took off again.

He broke through the trees above him with more power than the last time, practically shooting into the air like a loosed arrow. The extra wind startled her into a more aware position. She gave a loud shout as she looked down, grabbing onto Spiel tighter. Admittedly, it was freaking adorable. “SPIEL!” She yelled loudly, clearly terrified. Even her ears seemed to straighten and lower some at the same time.

As he gained altitude, he slowed them and only flapped his wings enough to keep them in their current place in the sky. Like any reasonable elf in Spiel’s position, he laughed.

“Spiel!” She shouted again, this time more indignantand less terrified. That was good, at least.

He gave her a goofy smile, then asked with the best shit-eating smirk he could muster "How's this for cooling off?"

If looks could kill, he would be dead and she'd be fallingto her own death.

"Okay, well, this is only half of the experience!" He continued, keeping his cheery tone. Before she could ask, he folded his wings around her, and they dropped.

Her screams were loud, but the wind around them was louder. He watched with pure amusment as she shut her eyes tight and held onto him harder than he knew she could grip. Her hair blew up around her face, the ponytail coming loose as air rushed through it. That would be painful to brush out later...

He looked down, then spread his wings suddenly to slow them, wincing a little at the sudden force upon them, but pleased when her screaming was suddenly cut off, instead replaced by a small "Uh-" As they suddenly stopped dropping.

Freaking hilarious.

Well... Until she banged on his chest pretty hard.

In hios surprise, he lost a little more altitude and they dropped some more, again Rainy screamed for the duration of the drop and again, she seemed surprised when he was able to slow them and regain height. She growled once Spiel had slowed them, again batting at his chest.

"Warn me next time, you idiot!" She shouted, clearly distressed.

Spiel hummed, amused still. "No promises." When she growled again, he chuckled at her. "Oh come on, you can't be that afraid of heights, can you? I hear flying is just like swimming."

"Except the water will support you and you don't need wings or help to swim!" She snapped, looking down. Her hair was a mess in general, but the side he saw when she turned her head was so much more than just 'a mess.' "In the sky, there's nothing supporting you! The moment you're without a thing that can fly, you drop!"

Well... She did have a good point he supposed. "Then I suppose you should be lucky you're with me." He recieved another bat to his chest for his words.

"Put me down." She insisted, then again, this time highlighting every word with another hit. "Put. Me. Down."

"I'll have to drop you~"

"SPIEL!!"

"Okay, okay," He shrugged, then began gliding down easily so to not give her a mini heart attack again. He landed on the shore of the river easily with a chuckle, noticing how she practically jumped out of his arms. "Never again?" He asked with a chuckle.

A scoff. "Never."

"I'll try to note that." He gave a mock wing salute with a smirk. Yeah, he was so doing that again sometime. "Now... turn around." He took her by the shoulders and pointedly turned her so she could see the blue of the lake.

Immediately, he saw her anger cool into surprise. "We should get back to camp." She said with a soft shake of her head. "We shoudln't-"

"No way. You were suffering back there. Go, have fun." He began pushing her towards the water, folding his wings against his back so he didn't get them wet at all.

He watched her frown, then look at the river, then back at him. He only nodded, and she sighed. "Only if you swim with me."

Wait what?

"Oh, no, I don't swim."

Rainy scoffed again, taking Spiel's hand and dragging him closer to the water, despite him struggling away. "And I don't fly, yet you still dragged me up there. Come on, wuss." Of course she would use that against him. He was just trying to have fun!

"Rain! I really can't swim!" He argued, worridly lifting his wings to keep them out of the water.

She stopped suddenly, then turned to look at him with almost offense. "You can't- What? What happened to the whole 'flying is just like swimming' thing??"

"I HEARD!"

She shook her head, a small sliver of him hoped she would say alright and let him go, but instead: "Then I guess today's the day you learn." She dragged him further into the water, making him give a loud groan/whine hybrid.

"I honestly don't understand why skywings swim! Or how! Like do they use their wings, or just their arms, how do they keep their wings dry?" He could tell she wasn't listening, but these were ginuine questions he had and by the Azure heavens he needed answers! No one ever taught him to swim!

As he expected, she ignored his compaints, and the way that he lifted his wings to keep them out of the water, instead holding on and dragging until she was satisfied with where he stood in the water. It was at least up to his chest. The bottom part of his wings were soaked, and he sighed.

"Well now we'll have to walk back," He said, finally folding his wings behind him again with a pout. He cringed and looked back to the shore longingly, though he stays put once she let go. "My wings haven't been preened since the morning we left Xadia and now they're soaked." He told her.

She actually rolled her eyes at him. "Okay, well, maybe soaked wings are good." He shot her a look to tell her she was dead wrong. "Oh well. So, the first thing when learning how to swim is to-"

Dear cloudy skies... This was going to suck.

Spiel sighed as Rainy continued to talk.

Neither of them noticed a super-sized fish coming towards them until it was too late...

Dustin frowned once Astil finished. That.. That was bad. Very, very bad.

The startouch released a breath, then said "I've never had a vision before, but it's crucial we figure out the meaning. Visions aren't always straightforward, sometimes they're filled with symbolism that makes it hard to figure out whether it's just a weird dream, or an actual vision."

"Well, I'm not sure how much help I'll be with the non-obvious answer," He crossed his arms and tilted his head in her direction to highlight his point as he said "Earthblood elves aren't exactly well known for much else than being straightforward."

Astil nodded. "I'm aware. But... With this vision it may be better to have a more... Obvious mind." Obvious wasn't the word Dustin would pick, he couldn't argue as she continued. "It seems like a simple one, more 'straightforward' than some I've heard of." She placed a knuckle against her cheek and was clearly biting at the skin there, a behavior Dustin didn't expect to see from a startouch. Nervous ticks, or bad habits, were something he assumed the 'regal startouches' wouldn't do.

"Noted." He said, still rather surprised by her, well, Normal behavior. He quickly shook off the surprise in favor of a more serious mood. Someone was going to die, right now was not the time to be confused by the actions of a startouch elf. "So what's the first plan of action?"

"A timeline."

"A... What?"

She sighed and shook her head. "A timeline, a series of events put together on a line depicting points of time?" By the look she gave him, he assumed she thought he was an idiot. He crossed his arms indignantly.

"Okay, noted. How do you go about making this timeline?"

Suddenly, she was standing. She walked over to a tree, then took quite a few leaves that had some sort of deformity, whether it was size, holes, or a different color, none looked like the others she grabbed. She found a patch of dirt, then drew a long line with it and set the leaves to the side. "We start by probability. First, there are two different possibilities, based off of who we see... I-In the forest." It was obvious what she meant: Who she saw die. But if she wanted to call it that, then that was alright. "First, there's the chance of Spiel," She held up a leaf with two more leaves seemingly attached. "And then there's a chance of Runaan."

She held up a thinner leaf with her other hand. “There is also a chance of both, since I in truth couldn’t see anything, but I think it’s only one.”

“And how do you know for certain when you got one and not the other?” Dustin asked, preparing for another… however long he’d have to listen again.

Astil put down the two leaves, on the opposite side of the other ones. “Process of elimination. We need to find literal time pointers or indications, landmarks in time.” Dustin paused, thinking back to what she had told him about the vision.

“The moons.” A pause. He looked her straight in the eye as she gave a look that he took as ‘explain’ “You said one time it was full, but another time it was new. Those are your ‘points in time’ right?”

She sighed. “I was thinking of saving those for more figurative use later, often times moons are used as things to be interpreted through symbolism, but… I think the straightforwardness would work here. Yes. Though I’m unsure which would come first.” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Maybe I’m being too obvious with it, but the full moon’s first, and the full moon’s coming up, and the new moon’s next.”

A sigh, then a “Very well, that would work.” Dustin smiled and nodded for her to continue.

She didn’t right away, instead picking through the leaves until she found two leaves with holes in them, one on the very tip, one right in the middle. She placed them on the line, placing them a good distance away from each other, but neither on the exact end of the line, leaving them a smaller distance away from the ends.

“So these are our points.” She said, placing a hand on each. “Now, the next step is finding anomalies.” A pause. He waited for her to speak again, but once she did not, he sighed and began trying to search through what he knew as well. Only for her to speak up as soon as he tried. “Tinker.”

“What?”

“Tinker.” She said again. “I saw him badly hurt, Yet he was fine in the forest. So the forest has to happen before he gets hurt.” She took two more leaves, one badly ripped and one bright yellow, then placed the bright yellow one in front of the ripped, somewhat off the line.

Makes sense. “Okay.” He waited a moment, making sure she wouldn’t say anything else, then began speaking his own mind. “Well, I think that you and Runaan are retaliating or something in one of those moments, like something happened and you’re reacting. The other one might involve the Unitum since you said you saw it behind the mystery man. Maybe… Maybe that retaliation has something to do with Rainy being hurt?”

“Not to mention that I only saw her once, and that she wasn’t in the forest.” She suddenly froze, going rigid even as she said, “Y-Yes, It would make sense… She would likely not… survive those burns I saw…”

Oh. He… hadn’t implied that… “I-“ She cut him off quickly.

“Yes. That would make sense… If the full moon involves Rainy’s injury…” She went silent suddenly as she began moving different leaves to different spots. Dustin could do nothing but watch as she worked.

She didn’t stop until almost all of the leaves were somewhere. He looked at her expectantly, then swept his hands over the timeline to spread his point. “Care to explain?”

She looked it over, again biting on the inside of her cheek, before nodding and speaking up. “If Runaan is the one in the forest, it would put the event after both moons, which of course would cause an anomaly with Tinker’s injuries, as I think the full moon was actually a retaliation of some sort involving Rainy and the forest actually takes place between the new and full moon. So it has to be Spiel.”

Unfortunately.

Not that Dustin has anything against Runaan, but if he had to choose between the assassin and the lively skywing…

“SPIEL!” Someone shouted, far off. Dustin’s eyes grew wide and he looked at Astil, who looked equally surprised.

“That was Rainy.” Astil said, getting up urgently and running to the edge of the clearing, theory forgotten. “They’ll need help.”

Dustin nodded and sprinted behind her.

Already things were happening.

“Spiel!” Rainy shouted again as the giant fish turned back towards her. It was nearly three times as large as the largest fish found in the oceanmist home! Still, she wasn’t worried about herself. Instead, she watched the skywing anxiously.

The fish had come out of nowhere, just coming up and attacking Rainy. Spiel had tried to help, but the fish’s tail had struck him and sent clean onto the other side of the river, where he had landed against the struck of a tree with a sickening CRACK noise.

He fell forward. She saw him flinch as he moved his wings, only to fold one and drop the other back into the previous position. He was hurt.

She didn’t have time to ask as the fish sped forward and she had to dive out of the way to keep away from its mouth. Even sharks were less aggressive than this thing!

She gave a loud shout as it again swam towards her. She swam away again, feeling like frightened tuna when someone swam towards a school. She cursed softly from under the water, trying to find some sort of direction as to which side of the river she was closest to, and which side Spiel was one. She needed to get to Spiel. She needed to make sure he was okay.

But as the fish sped after her again and again, she was stuck only swimming away and never gaining her sense of direction. Raging rapids! The ocean was so much easier to figure out than this! Especially with the current, it was hard enough.

She barely broke the surface and glanced around again before she was forced to flee again. But that look was enough to catch one glimpse of the bank.

This time, she dove towards it.

She dodged three more attempts from the fish before she reached the edge of the river, then pulled herself up, whirling around and giving a loud yelp as the fish tried to jump out of the water to get her. Naturally, she jumped a few paces back to keep away from its mouth.

Soon enough, she realized she was still on the wrong side of the river, and Spiel was still where he had been a moment ago, though now he held onto the injured wing with a hand.

Oh no.

“You need to fly to this side!” She shouted, only to receive a shake of his head.

He stretched his hurt wing a second time, only to quickly fold it again with another pained expression. “I- I can’t fly.” He said, looking straight at her with a serious expression. Were those tears in his eyes, or just remnants of the water?

“What’s going on?”

Rainy turned, only to be met face to face with a very mad but worried Dustin, and an equally urgent and ruffled Astil.

She quickly motioned to the fish and the skywing. The fish was now swimming back to Spiel’s side. Spiel didn’t have as much room to go anywhere as her, and flying was out of the question…

“Spiel needs help.” Rainy said quickly. “We were swimming and we were attacked. I think Spiel’s wing is broken or just really badly sprained. He can’t fly.”

Astil and Dustin shared a worried look, but nodded. “Understood.” Astil said with a nod, looking over the scene before her. Her abilities were… off currently. She couldn’t tell the exact possibilities, just the opposite ones. Well… better than nothing…

“Rainy,” She said, not glancing back and instead focusing on a path between the two banks. “Dustin and I will distract the assailant, you swim over and help Spiel get back onto this side.” She ordered. Rainy nodded, just as Dustin’s ears fell.

“Is there a problem?” Astil asked expectantly at Dustin.

Simply put; Yes. He crossed his arms with a small growl. “I don’t do water.” To which Astil sighed.

“Then I suppose you will have to get over it. No one is dying today.” The words struck like daggers. The look she gave him, it was clearly meant to be more than just throwaway words. Of course he’d have to do shit like this…

He gave another growl. “Let me try to do something from shore, earth and all.” He wasn’t even close to a mage what was he thinking?

Still, she seemed satisfied with that answer and nodded, then took a step back and turned toward the river as Rainy prepared to dive in. Astil drew some sort of Rune with one hand, creating a flash of white light. A moment later, a staff appeared in her hand. Silver. Simple.

Huh. Who would’ve thought a startouch would use a weapon in general, but one so simple?

Weird.

“Hey!” Astil shouted suddenly, nodding to Rainy before jumping into the water just as Rainy did. The splash caught the fish’s attention. It turned. Dustin could see the realization in its eyes as it registered that there were easy targets now. It swam forward, first going for Rainy, but Astil struck it in the side with her staff instead, causing the fish to turn towards her.

There was no way even she could handle this alone.

Okay, how did earth mages do this? They drew runes and said words, right?

But he didn’t know words, nor runes…

A few miners could move rocks and stones to find gems, Dustin had watched them do it a few times, and they never used runes…

Wait.

Without constantly being attacked, Rainy found it infinitely easier to get the other side, and sped there, practically jumping onto the shore and coming close to Spiel. “How bad?” She asked, lifting an arm to help him onto his feet.

“Terrible.” He responded, frowning and closing his eyes tight as he tried to show her.

She stopped him with a light hand on the feathers. “It’s alright, I know you’re serious. Okay, look, we need to get to the other side.”

“What about the-“

“Astil has it covered.” She cut him off, sneaking a hand under one arm and around his back, then underneath the other. “You’re going to have to help me swim, probably, but I can get us to the other side. It may hurt, though.”

There was a pause, and he looked scared for a moment, before he shook his head. “No, No, Let’s do it. But I can’t swim still.”

“It’s alright, just kick. Come on.” She led him to the water’s edge, then slowly eased him in.

There wasn’t as big as splash as when she had literally jumped into the water, but it did send ripples throughout the water.

She kicked off, making sure to go slow and to support Spiel. The skywing made soft, hurt noised each time his injured wing moved in the water, but he adjusted to the water and did as she had told him about kicking and nothing else.

Rainy focused solely on Spiel and their path, not realizing that the ripples she sent had grabbed the attention of the fish.

If Astil were any less refined, she would have cursed in that exact moment she realized the fish had seen Rainy and Spiel. Of course…

She swam forward and whacked it again with her staff, receiving a bat from the fish’s tail instead, which she narrowly avoided.

Dear stars, this was getting difficult. She needed to get her abilities back under control.

“Rainy, watch out!” She shouted, as the fish came even nearer to the pair and she struggled to keep up. Why did aquatic beings have to be so fast?

Dustin fell to his knees and sunk his hands into the mud, thinking back to how the other miners did it. They closed their eyes and it just happened.

He sighed and closed his eyes, ears straining to hear the other over his own pounding heart. He had barely become a miner. He was one of the newest members, in fact. And the miners he saw had years of experience…

He heard Rainy give a surprised shout, accompanied by a following wave and a loud “HEY!” from Astil. Things were escalating. He opened his eyes to find the three elves and the fish in the middle of the lake. Rainy was struggling to hold onto Spiel while also fighting alongside Astil to get the fish away, but the attacks weren’t effective. Rainy splashed a large amount of water at the fish, but it did nothing.

Fuck.

“C’mon,” He said, looking back at the ground and shutting his eyes tighter. He had to do this. If something happened, and someone got hurt before they needed to, then Astil would probably think he had forfeited his promise to her. For some reason, that seemed to be what was on his mind the most, not just the worry about his friends not dying at the hands of an ugly fish.

“C’mon.” He said, more forcefully as he opened his eyes and glared at the ground. “What’s your deal? I am trying to make you move! So do it!” He watched a moment longer before his frustration grew. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” The ground, of course, showed no responses what so ever.

He looked up towards the three again, eyes going wide. Spiel was separated from Rainy, and was struggling to swim with one wing, his arms, and his legs. Rainy was trying to reach him, but the fish had her foot in its mouth and no matter how Astil pried with the staff, the giant mouth didn’t budge.

He growled, finally giving in and standing so he could jump in, but froze when he felt something tug on his hands as he lifted them. He found a single vine wrapped around his wrists, holding him in place. When he placed his hands back down, the vine withdrew.

Suddenly, the screaming stopped. More like it was muted. He was confused, but soon that confusion gave way to… Nothing.

He felt tired.

He tried to shake his head, to dispel the feeling, but it held on and forced his eyes closed, stubborn.

So was he.

And so the two stayed, the earthblood and the invisible force, fighting between conscious and unconscious…

Then he felt it.

There was a tremor in the ground. Then another. And another. Slow at first, minimal, then suddenly powerful.

His eyes shot open, astonished.

The earth was moving!

Waves crashed around the trio.

Rainy forced a circle of water around them, preventing the waves from rising over the three elves. The ground shook again.

She give a strained growl as she fought against the raging water and kept the circle, expecting the rumble to die down after a second like the last two times, but it didn't. It continued.

Suddenly, a giant rock platform shot out from the water, directly below where the fish was. It shot the creature up and into the air with enough force to kill. She couldn't help but smile. Ha.

That smile vanished as she looked down and saw another rising platform directly beneath them. Thinking it would be just as harsh, she tried to back away, but the rock extended to match her position.

It lifted slower than the other one, catching them all. Spiel, who had been holding onto Astil, practically fell once the startouch let him go. He was soaking, they all were, but his wings especially looked like they were weighed down heavily by water. As if to prove her point, Spiel tried to move his uninjured wing, only to drop it to the platform a moment later with the other, hurt one.

Astil had lost some of her glitter, but she lifted her head as she got to her feet, then smiled at the earthblood elf on the shore. Even Rainy couldn't help her smile. Still she couldn't help but shout "TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!" to the idiot.

The only response she recieved back was a laugh. Neat.

"Sooo.... What do we do with it?" Spiel asked from his place on a fallen tree, looking over the dead fish on the bank. "Ow, ow," He warned to Rainy, who shrugged with a soft 'sorry' as she wrapped a bandage around his wing. It was definitely broken. That wasn't good at all...

"We could always just push it back into the water." Dustin shrugged.

Rainy growled and threw a twig at the earthblood "Absolutely not. It could get stuck. We'll just have to leave it there. Some other animal can have it." Suddenly she tied something, putting a little too much sudden pressure on the wing. Spiel gave a loud, surprised squawk noise, naturally flapping his other wing to get her to back off. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry again. Okay, that should hold it into place until we get back to camp and stuff, but it'll work, right?" She looked up at him expectantly.

He couldn't help his own smile as he nodded.

"Are you done wasting time or-" Rainy threw another stick at Dustin as he spoke, but this time the earthblood came prepared and ducked out of the way. Spiel's eyes widened as the stick went straight for Astil, only for the startouch to reach up and catch it.

Even she seemed surprised as she looked at the stick in her hand. The light frown that had been adorning her face ever since they got out of the water suddenly changed into a bright smile. She stared at the stcik a moment longer, then smirked and said something in Dustin's ear, then promptly stepped back as Dustin himself smirked.

Yeah, no, not risking whatever they had planned. He fell behind the tree, only peaking over as Rainy looked back at Dustin, only for the ground to shake and knock the oceanmist to the ground, right into a pile of sticks.

"Hey-Ah!" She yelped as she fell, then growled once she realized what he had done. Spiel practically fell over laughing as Rainy suddenly got to her feet and began chasing the earthblood with eyes ready for the kill.

Even Astil looked amused, but there was... something else there too.. Something sad hid behind her smile...

What was wrong?

Finally.

The auction was finally over.

Gray released a sigh and prepared a bag of coins. Fifty... Not great, but in exchange for knowledge on who these strangers were? It would be worth it.

With a hum, he closed the bag and found his way to the area beside the stage, where the exchanges were being made. He waited until he and ste strangers were the last one there, then cleared his throat as he stepped forward. The shorter one seemed to light up as he saw the other. "There he is." He said to the taller, who gve a hum and followed. He was the one holding the weapon, but he was carrying it to be presented, not to be used. Good. "Fifty, right?" The smaller asked as Gray closed the distance as well.

Gray put on his kindest seeming smile. "Yes, indeed." He offered the bag, and the shorter stranger took it, while the taller handed over the dagger. It looked.. Smaller than Gray had been expecting. The grip was a thinner, as if it was made for one less finger. Like an elf's. He hid a grin as he looked it over again, closer. Thin lines danced over the silver of the blade, and upon an even further inspection than that, he realized that the dagger was, in fact, elven in make. His suspicion rose as the gears turned in his head. Again he was reminded of the ladybug in his pocket. He sighed. Not now. "I do have a few more questions about the blade if you are willing-"

Both 'men' had different responses at the exact same time. While the shorter happily said "Of course!" The other answered with "Absolutely not." Gray quirked an eyebrow at the pair. So many odd things.

"Well why not?" He asked the taller curiously and with a chuckle.

The smaller, in that moment Gray decided to call him Sunshine, looked at the taller, whom Gray opted to call Mystery and asked "Yeah, why not?"

Mystery went silent, before giving a scoffing sound and waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Three. No more."

Gray sighed, but nodded. Three questions. What could he accomplish with three questions?

Well... Perhaps he could find out if these two truly are what they seem to be...

"Where did you get this dagger?" He asked, looking it over and pretending not to see the way sunshine practically beamed.

"Actually, I made- Ow!"

Sunshine was cut off by a jab to the ribs by Mystery, who explained "We found it in an abandoned elven village by the border." Obviously a cover up... You would think possible elves would be smarter about their word choices.

Still, Gray nodded. So sunshine had made it. Which meant sunshine must be a smith. That idea filled Gray with excitement, actually. An elven smith. A sunfire smith even. And so soon after the last sunfire died. Not to mention that he had never had a sunfire smith before, only soldiers and an occasional mage. Smiths were far more rare, and infinitely more powerful in Gray's opinion. Especially with the ante unitum.. Now was the perfect time!

He paused when the two strangers shared an uneasy glance. Or, well, more precisely sunshine looked at Mystery and Mystery's lips tightened into a line. Gray cleared his throat, picking another question. "So it is elven?" He asked expectantly, receiving a hum and a nod from sunshine. Good. Now for the final test to see if sunshine was, in fact, a smith. Blacksmiths and Sunfire's alike were very prideful, so a sunfire smith should be double, correct? So if his creation were insulted... Gray gave a hum, fixing his attention to a spot on the blade where an odd scratch was placed. "It looks relatively bland to me."

A beat. Gray had to fight off a smirk as the pleasant smile slowly changed to the absolutely most offended look Gray had ever seen on anyone.

"Bland?" The sunfire asked. Then again, "Bland? That dagger is made with pure Xadian steel and polished with oils only found in-"

So he was, in fact, the creator. Mystery gave a growl, then roughly grabbed the sunfire's arm and began pulling him away. "That is enough." He said, even as Sunshine tried to keep himself planted in his spot.

"Do you have any idea how long it took to-" As Mystery dragged the yelling sunfire around the corner, a bit of sunshine's hood moved, revealing a circular, thorny mark on his cheek with the same tell-tale yellow as any other sunfire elf. There was no room for doubt now. This stranger was a sunfire elf. And what about Mystery? He certainly couldn't be sunfire, too cautious... But perhaps... Perhaps a moonshadow, judging by his wardrobe and quieter, more cautious attitude.

He expected a backlash for stealing the Unitum, of course, but this? This was better than he imagined.

He stalked away, finding an alley to hide in before he pulled out the ladybug as before. He laid it flat in his palm, then lit it on fire, letting the small thing turn to ash.

"Meht wollof." He said, then tossed the ash into the air and watched as a slick black ladybug with red spots took to the sky, following the same path Sunshine and Mystery had taken moments before.

He chuckled, already thinking of the possibilities these two elves could provide. A sunfire smith and what was likely a moonshadow assassin. The possibilities were endless.

"I do so hope we meet again, sunshine."

#tdp tinker #tinker elf #tinker #tdp runaan #runaan #runaan x tinker #mod madi writes #searching

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