#I like to think traveling through time changes you. That's why her mouth and sclera of her eyes are blue

[lemonandtheart]

My Favorite Timestress <3

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 17

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

-------

CHAPTER 17: LULLABY

(Mood Music: Quiet Beauty - James Todd)

One Chilly Sunday Evening

Chat Noir laughed so hard he was practically gasping for air, and his heart thumped like a drum in his chest.

How many times had they done this? Was it five? A dozen? A hundred? Racing Ladybug across city rooftops felt so normal, so natural, as if he’d done it a million times across countless different lifetimes. Whatever the case, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

“I win!” he announced, breathless, as he landed on the solid ground of the Dupain-Cheng bakery’s balcony, promptly followed by his partner.

The light of the moon illuminated her graceful frame as she caught her breath, and it took all of Chat’s willpower not to gawk as a bead of sweat made its way from her temple to her cheek, then trailed down her jaw and onto her neck.

“Only because you cheated!” Ladybug chided, trying (yet failing) to hide an amused smile.

Chat put a hand on his hip, cheekily cocking it to the side as he caught his own breath. “I bet you could’ve won if you really wanted to. Were you trailing behind me on purpose to check out my assets? Or don’t tell me that you’ve never been tempted to take a peek?”

Ladybug raised a quizzical eyebrow, and a beat later replied with an impish smirk, “Well... I never said I haven’t.”

Chat’s eyes grew wide, his bright, chartreuse-green sclera becoming more visible than Ladybug had ever seen, their faint glow a stark contrast with the red color that bloomed on his cheeks.

Ladybug giggled (How dare she be so adorable yet still so attractive?!) and stepped towards him, placing her finger under his chin and closing his mouth with a small click. When had his jaw popped open??

“What’s the matter, Chaton? Can’t handle when somebody flirts back?” she teased, her face mere inches from his.

Chat suppressed the urge to squirm under her touch. They’d flirted countless times before, but why did his chest feel so tight when they did so lately?

Trying to compose himself and insert as much confidence as he could into his voice, he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “I’ll have you know that I’m a very desirable bachelor in my day-to-day life! I happen to have more suitors than I can shake a stick at!”

He’d said it jokingly, expecting to get rebuffed; but Ladybug gave him an exaggerated pout, tapping her mouth with her fingers (a gesture he couldn’t help but follow closely with his gaze).

“Ohh, I see…. Should I be jealous?” she said as she looked up at him through her thick eyelashes. “Do I have competition?”

Chat reached for her hand, slowly bringing it to his lips with a slight bow. “Never,” he replied, with a bit more conviction and candor than he’d intended. “Nobody could ever hold a candle to you, Milady. Your wit, kindness, and beauty surpasses them all. It is you alone who holds the key to my heart.”

Now it was Ladybug’s turn to get caught off guard. His words were theatrical and over-the-top, as usual; but there was sincerity behind them. There was something about the way he’d said them that made it feel… real. She couldn’t help but shyly look away, her cheeks a bright crimson hue, and she tucked some hair behind her ear as she always did whenever she was flustered or nervous.

“Flatterer,” she said timidly, attempting to deflect the compliment.

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” he replied with a wink.

Ladybug stared slack-jawed, and could only stutter out an ever so eloquent “I-I-I...” By this point, her entire face was as red as her suit, and she covered her face with both hands in embarrassment. “Chaaaaaaaat!” she cried helplessly in defeat.

Chat let out a hearty laugh, giving her a quick, comforting squeeze. He’d won this round of impromptu chicken. Deciding to have mercy and spare her from any further teasing, he changed the subject.

“Anyway, it’s too bad I can’t be the one to drop you off at your house, Bugaboo. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do. But alas, I’m lacking in the whole ‘majestic white steed’ department,” he remarked as he crossed his arms and leaned against the brick wall.

She laughed lightly through her nose. “Well, we’re not exactly your average, run of the mill coupl– uh, partners. Plus, I already know where you live, so that’s easy to do.”

Chat ignored her slip of the tongue, since he didn’t dare to hope for more. At least... not yet.

“That’s for sure,” he replied with a small chuckle. “We’re a rather unique situation. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ladybug leaned next to him against the wall, pressing her back against the cool surface of the bricks as their shoulders bumped.

She hesitated for a few moments, seeming to gather her thoughts. He eyed her curiously, waiting for her to speak her mind.

“So…” she began, looking out into the dark autumn sky. “Which part is true? That you think I’m... beautiful, or that I hold the key to your... t-that I…”

A jolt of lightning traveled down his spine and he stared at her like a kid who’d just broken a window. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out– not even a flustered stammer.

He hadn’t meant to blurt out his feelings so casually a minute ago. In fact, he’d been working on an elaborate speech for when the time was right! It still needed lots of work; he was only on the seventh draft.

He paused to consider. Would it be so bad, though? If he were to confess to her right now?

It wasn’t how he’d planned it. There wasn’t an elegantly decorated rooftop full of roses and strings of lights, or soft romantic music, or any of the other things that would have made it perfect. He was supposed to carry her to a surprise location (bridal-style of course), her lithe arms wrapped around his neck, with a snugly placed blindfold around her eyes to amplify the mystery and anticipation.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d be impressed with his efforts enough to accept his feelings before she could realize that she was too good for him.

Truly his adoration for her knew no bounds. So much so, that he’d asked himself whether it was truly love, or if just an overblown obsession or infatuation.

And yet, he knew that wasn’t the case. He knew she wasn’t perfect. She didn’t need a pedestal. He’d placed her on one when they’d first become allies, but she pulled him up to her level, never allowing him to lower himself or place himself beneath her. She made sure that he always knew he was her equal, and not her subordinate. I mean, how could he not fall in love with her?

So, despite the fact that it wasn’t at all how he planned and he’d suddenly blanked out on his entire speech... he wanted to tell her. Now was as good a time as any.

Ladybug must have sensed the shift in his mood because she recoiled somewhat, jolting away from the brick wall.

She hastily began to backpedal, “N-nevermind, forget I said anything!! Um, anyway, have a good night!”

Chat shook himself out of his daze, then lunged forth to catch her arm as she reached for her yo-yo.

“M-milady, wait!”

She turned to face him, her face full of regret and embarrassment. “S-sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to tease you. Well– I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just–”

“No! N-no, don’t worry, you didn’t. It’s just that I’ve been… wanting to tell you something. Something important.”

He felt her stiffen at his words, and her eyes grew wide with apprehension.

Crap. He hadn’t meant to scare her.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise!” he tried to reassure her. “Or… at least, I don’t think it’s bad. I mean, I hope it isn’t. To you, that is. What I mean is…” He rubbed the back of his neck with a groan, then let out a nervous, shallow breath.

She quirked her head to the side, as she unknowingly did whenever she was feeling curious or inquisitive. He tried (in vain) to ignore how cute she looked so he could focus on the task at hand.

This is it. You can do it. Be brave like Marinette!! She’d believe in you!

The butterflies in his stomach multiplied tenfold; there was no going back.

And yet... how do you even begin to tell someone that you can’t imagine your life without them? That you’d sacrifice absolutely everything for their happiness; that you’d rather suffer a thousand deaths than to ever see them in pain? That the thought of losing them kept you awake at night more often than you’d like to admit?

How could he put into words that until she came along, he never imagined he’d be able to feel happiness again?

No; words could never suffice. There was nothing he wanted more than to grab his Lady by the waist and give her the most passionate kiss he could muster so that he could show her his love instead.

But he couldn’t. He had to know how she felt in return before he did something that rash, something that could potentially wreck their partnership if his actions were unwelcome.

He didn’t want to ruin anything. He was utterly terrified. And yet… he yearned for her to know.

He had to try. It might be selfish, but he had to tell her how he felt. Just in case she might maybe, possibly, someday, feel the same way.

Ladybug gently touched his forearm, her slender fingers skimming up and down the fabric of his gloves. “Kitty,” she began, concern written all over her face, her piercing sky blue eyes searching his own. “Is everything alright?”

Chat did his best to offer a reassuring smile, placing his opposite hand on top of hers. “I’m fine,” he answered. “I just have a bit of a confession to make.”

Ladybug’s face softened, and she returned a small smile as she waited for him to proceed, still unsure but relieved.

He swallowed thickly, and tried to steady his voice. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long. Well, I mean– technically we’ve known each other for years– but what I mean is that we haven’t really gotten to know each other ‘til recently. Uhh, that is––”

Ladybug gave a small giggle. “It’s okay, Chat. I know what you mean.”

Chat smiled back. “Anyway, I want you to know that our friendship means absolutely everything to me. And I would never want to do anything to jeopardize that, not ever. With that said, I still need you to know that I… that I...” he trailed off, looking away and biting his lip.

A few seconds passed, and he felt Ladybug’s soft hand touch his cheek, which gently turned his head to face her once again.

“Talk to me, Chat. You can tell me anything.”

Those eyes. Those big, gorgeous, absolutely amazing eyes. She was the sun and moon and stars all wrapped up in a tiny, polka-dotted package, and all he could offer her was himself. Was he enough? He silently prayed she hadn’t noticed how much his hands were trembling right now.

“I know I shouldn’t. I don’t know anything about your civilian self. Not really. Where you live, where you go to school, who your friends are. Whether you already have a special someone in your life. Or whether you–” he gulped “–whether you could ever feel the same way about me as I do about you.”

She stepped closer, sliding her hand down his arm and wrapping her fingers around his own (he’d never been as grateful that his suit had gloves as he was now, given how sweaty his palms were at the moment).

“And… how do you feel about me?” she asked, with a– dare he say– hopeful tone in her voice.

Her eyes bore into his own with such intensity and heat that he could no longer feel the chilly night air. He forced himself to hold her gaze, so she could be sure that his words were genuine.

“I wasn’t sure whether I should say anything or if it should wait until after we defeated Hawkmoth. I didn’t know if I was ready to… to open myself up and risk getting hurt in the process. Because I am so, so afraid of losing you.” He bit his lip, but continued, “But I don’t think I can wait that long. You have to know, because I might not get another chance...”

His posture straightened a bit, and he took both her hands into his. (Was it his hands that were still shaking, or hers?)

“I love you,” he finally uttered, his voice husky and low, as if it were a declaration far too sacred for others to hear. He heard her breath catch slightly. “I love you so much, My Lady.” Chat’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he let out a shaky sigh. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. When you’re with me, I can’t help but feel truly happy. Happy to be your teammate, happy to be your friend… happy to be alive. You make me want to become a better person, and I just needed you to know that.”

He shrunk into himself somewhat, taking an unsteady, quivering breath, having expended all his bravery with his proclamation of love.

He’d done it. He’d confessed.

...Now what?

A few moments passed in silence. He bit the inside of his cheek anxiously, unsure of how to continue.

Mayday. Mayday. The hairs in the back of his neck stood up on end; his mind nervous and uncertain.

“A-anyway, that’s all I wanted to say,” he blurted out. “I know it’s a lot to take in; you don’t have to say anything back.” He let go of her hands and crossed his arms, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable. “I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I’d prefer if you said something back just so I know where we stand, but you definitely don’t have to,” he continued to ramble. “I don’t want it to be awkward or uncomfortable between us, so I won’t mention it ever again if that’s what you want. I’ll always respect your wishes and do what you think is best, ‘cause I have complete faith in you and I–”

His nervous ramblings were cut short by warm, delicate lips delivering a featherlight kiss to his cheek, and Chat let out a small gasp despite himself.

“Was that alright?” she asked, her voice breathy and soft.

Chat practically swooned in disbelief. “More than alright,” he exhaled. “S-so… does that mean that you like m–”

Ladybug stood on her tiptoes and surged forward to capture his lips, answering his question in a way he never would have imagined when he woke up that morning.

There was no way this was actually happening. Was he still breathing?? The girl he loved not only liked him back, but was doing something he’d only ever dreamed about.

He decided to take a chance. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, to which Ladybug responded with a small, surprised moan, and then wrapped her arms around his neck. At some point, his hands had ended up on the small of her back, pulling her flush against him, and he was sure she’d be able to feel his heart pounding.

Several blissful moments later, they separated to catch their breath but didn’t pull completely apart. Chat was sure that if he let go of her, he would surely melt into a puddle on the spot.

Ladybug panted lightly. “So… does that answer your question?” she asked, still smiling, her lips almost brushing against his.

Chat cleared his throat, then managed to stammer out in a raspy voice, “Uh, yeah, that works.”

He bent his neck forward so she wouldn’t have to stand on her tiptoes anymore, pressing his forehead against hers and closing his eyes in contentment. Surely this was too good to be true, right?! Was he asleep??

But as always, the overthinker in him struck again and a thought came to him. He furrowed his brow in concern as he became acutely aware of the fact that just because she liked him back didn’t mean she wanted to become anything more than partners. Maybe the kiss was a one-time thing and she wanted to keep things professional? He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Why can’t I just be satisfied with what I already have? This is more than I could ever ask for, so why press my luck?

Ladybug, perceptive as ever, noticed his unease.

“What are you thinking about, Chaton?” she whispered with a slight frown.

Deciding to be honest, he loosened his hold on her and stepped back, his jaw tensed. A few thoughtful seconds later, he tried to explain, “I just… What do you want me to be to you? I know we can’t exactly act like a ‘normal’ couple. It’s not like we can go to the movies or amusement parks together, and you can’t exactly take me to your house to meet your parents. So, umm… what happens next?”

Ladybug reached for his hand, squeezing lightly. “If you’re worried that I’m only interested in a fling or a friends-with-benefits type of relationship, I’m not. I don’t know how this is gonna work, and I do want to take things slow, but… you are so special to me, Chat. All I know is that I want you in my life. As more than teammates. Do you want that too?”

“Yes!” Chat exclaimed (a bit more emphatically than he’d intended) and nodded. “I want to make this work! I really do.”

She reached up to cup his cheek, stroking it gently with her thumb, and he couldn’t help but lean into her caresses. “And, while I don’t think we really need a formal label for what we have, if giving it a name makes you feel better, then… What if we’re ‘dating’? What do you think? Sound good to you?”

Chat grinned, lifting his hand to run it through her long, dark hair. “It’s more than I could’ve ever hoped for,” he replied, completely elated. “I’ll make you happy, I swear it.”

She stepped back into his space and wrapped her arms around him, letting her hands wander until they settled on the base of his back. And even though he was much larger than her, her hugs always somehow managed to completely envelop him in feelings of safety and comfort.

“You already make me happy, you dork.”

Chat shifted his body so he could make eye contact with his beloved once again. His hand wandered to her jawline, which caused her to shiver with what he hoped was pleasure and anticipation. He made his way down her jaw towards her chin, his movements slow and deliberate, relishing how absolutely beautiful yet adorably shy she appeared in this moment.

Tilting her chin upwards with his forefinger, Chat leaned down and Ladybug’s eyes fluttered shut, her blush still visible under the faint glow of the balcony lights. Chat shut his own eyes in preparation…

...Only to bolt upright in alarm. His ears twitched and he whipped his head around, searching. Without a word, he scooped up Ladybug and bounded up onto the rooftop, landing behind the balcony wall. Ladybug let out a less than dignified “EEP!!”, clinging to him as she was whisked away.

Upon landing, she was about to ask Chat what was going on but he gently placed his finger on her lips. Then he moved it to his own lips, shaking his head. Ladybug understood and nodded. Then they stood there, still as a statue, and waited.

Hinges creaked as the hatch door swung open, and the pair heard someone climb out onto the balcony. Said individual took a deep breath of the fresh evening air, then walked towards the railing to look out into the city.

A few minutes passed, and Chat finally realized the rather intimate position he and Ladybug had put themselves in during their hasty escape. There he stood, back pressed to the wall, with his partner essentially plastered up onto him, their limbs an intertwined mess, leaving not even a sliver of free space between their bodies. Ladybug seemed to realize this at about the same time, and they looked to each other with matching flustered grins, blushing furiously. She made to move away slightly and give him some space—

But her yo-yo had partially unraveled during their clamber onto the roof, and had wrapped around them, becoming tangled in both his cape and his tail. She giggled awkwardly, then began squirming— first lightly, then a bit more vigorously when it became clear that that was ineffective. Chat bit his lip almost painfully, trying very hard not to think about their current situation, lest he unwillingly embarrass himself in a more... somatic way.

A voice cut through the silence of the nighttime air, jolting them to a halt, and they ceased their struggles once again to listen in. Chat twisted his mouth, frowning. He wasn’t normally the type of person who enjoyed eavesdropping; but he didn’t exactly have a choice at the moment.

“What are you doing up here, Tom?” asked the voice of Sabine Dupain-Cheng as she climbed out onto the balcony.

“Oh, nothing. Just, uhh... getting some fresh air. No other reason,” Tom replied, with a tone that wasn’t entirely convincing.

Sabine made her way to stand next to her husband. “You wouldn’t happen to be waiting for a certain housecat to return from the akuma attack that happened earlier tonight, would you?” she asked knowingly.

Tom stammered, “N-no! No, of course not! I’m not waiting for anyone! And I’m certainly not worried! Nope, definitely not worried sick whatsoever; not at all.”

Sabine leaned into him with a playful giggle. “That’s what you say, dear. But I can tell you’re very fond of him.”

“I-I am not!” he sputtered. “I just… wanted to make sure he was going to show up at work tomorrow, that’s all. We have that big shipment of sugar coming in and—umm— my back is sore, so I’ll need the help! Yeah, that’s it. I’m just making sure he acts responsible.” He nodded solemnly, crossing his arms.

On the other side of the wall, Chat couldn’t help but crack a smile at Tom’s poorly-hidden concern. He’d never seen this side of him before, at least not as Chat Noir.

Sabine patted Tom on the back. “Well, you should come back inside. It’s pretty chilly tonight and we can’t have you catching a cold. He’ll be back soon. He’s probably just having some ‘alone time’ with Ladybug.”

Chat and Ladybug practically jumped at this statement, whipping their heads towards each other, then back down at their current predicament. Chat shrugged apologetically with a rather sheepish expression on his face, and it took all of Ladybug’s willpower not to laugh at how cute he looked.

“Hmph. You’re probably right,” they heard Tom say, and then footsteps as the married couple made their way back indoors.

“Come on, I’ll make us some tea.”

With that, the balcony hatch closed, and the pair remained still for a few moments to verify that Tom and Sabine wouldn’t come back, in case they’d left anything behind.

Chat was the first to break the silence. “So, uhhh… Now what?”

Ladybug did her best trying to find and figure out where the biggest tangles were, but the range of her movement was quite limited.

“It’s too dark, I can’t see anything,” she replied. “And even if I could, I can’t move my arms much.”

“Same, my arms are pinned down. What should we do?”

Ladybug scrunched her face, deep in thought. A few moments later, her brows raised as an idea came to her.

“Uh… I have an idea, but it’s a bit risky.”

Chat cocked his head to the side with curiosity, waiting for her to elaborate. “Go on.”

“Well, umm… don’t freak, just hear me out. What if we detransformed?”

Chat looked at her like she’d suggested that they throw themselves into an active volcano, and she quickly added, “W-with our eyes closed, that is! That way, we can re-transform and everything will be in its proper place.”

Chat pondered her words. It did seem like the simplest, easiest solution.

“Well… Okay,” he replied. “Let’s do it. I swear I won’t look.”

Ladybug grinned widely at him. “I know. I trust you.”

She leaned into him, placing her head against his chest.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah. Claws in.”

“Spots off.”

A flash of neon green and pink briefly illuminated the rooftop, and then it was dark again.

A detransformed Chat couldn’t help but let out a gasp. This was the very first time he’d ever touched Ladybug without the barriers of their near-indestructible suits. Her shirt was made out of some lightweight fabric, much too thin for this kind of weather, as if she’d been lounging at home when the akuma attack had begun earlier and she’d left her house in a hurry. He took the opportunity to savor this moment, wrapping his arms around his Lady’s shoulders, keeping her close and warm.

His fingers touched something silky and sleek, and he almost gasped again in awe. “Your hair is down,” he uttered, almost too quiet for Ladybug to hear.

He felt her smile against his chest. He took this opportunity to glide his bare hand down her long, thick locks, relishing the feel, knowing he wouldn’t be able to touch her like this again. At least, not for who knows how long. He wished with all his heart they could stay like this forever.

Her body shifted slightly, and a beat later he felt her fingers sneak into his own hair, massaging his scalp in a comical manner.

“If you get to touch my hair, I get to touch yours,” she stated, her voice impish and playful. “Good Lord, what shampoo do you use?! Your hair is so soft!!”

Chat let out a hearty laugh. “I bet we look ridiculous right now, just two people on a roof groping each other’s heads. Good thing it’s too dark to see anything.

Ladybug snickered as she lowered her hands, holding onto him to help keep her balance. The rooftop was relatively flat, but the physical contact made her feel safer regardless. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone could see us if they were to look out their windows; it’s a new moon tonight. But we should still keep our eyes closed, just in case.”

She laid back into him and they embraced in silence, enjoying the calm. His hand traced gentle patterns on her back, and she nuzzled even closer to keep warm.

“Your voice,” Ladybug said, cutting through the stillness.

Chat raised an eyebrow. “Hmm? What about it?”

“It sounds different somehow. Kinda… softer? I dunno,” she said, shrugging slightly.

“Now that you mention it, you sound kind of different too,” he agreed.

The glamour magic must be stronger when they’re transformed, he realized. The magic was still present while in their civilian forms, albeit weaker. Out of costume, Ladybug’s voice sounded more… familiar somehow? He tried not to think about that too much; this wasn’t the time or place.

“D-do you like it?” he added, his tone tentative.

“Yeah!” she blurted out. “I-it’s nice. Really nice. I like it.”

He made a pleased sound, then replied, “And yours is lovely. I can’t wait til I get to hear more of it in the future.”

“Same.” Ladybug let out a long, contented sigh. “We should probably get going. They’re waiting for you inside. But you heard Mr. Dupain-Cheng; he’s most definitely not concerned about you,” she said with a snicker.

Chat busted out laughing. “He’s pretty great. Just cautious, is all.” Then he added jokingly, “He probably doesn’t want to get too attached, just in case I suddenly decide to go on a feral murder spree one day.”

Ladybug blew a raspberry and smacked him lightly on the chest. “Noooooo, I am one hundred percent sure he does not think that! I’m sure he’ll warm up to you in no time!”

“I hope so,” he replied with a chuckle. He hesitated before speaking again. “Umm, Bugaboo… Before we transform back, would it be alright if… if I kissed you again?” Ladybug’s entire body twitched in surprise. “Just once, as our real selves.”

He felt her chest rise and fall as she let out some flustered noises. She managed to settle down a bit, and replied in a hushed voice, “Yeah. Th-that would be nice.”

He moved his hand, blindly feeling around until he found the side of her face. He cupped her cheek with a featherlight touch, his other arm snugly around her waist, keeping her steady. She placed both hands on his chest, craning her neck back, eagerly awaiting what was to come. He lowered his face slowly, to avoid bumping their heads together. Their breaths mingled, shallow and nervous. Their first kiss out of the masks… would it feel any different, he wondered?

Their noses touched, and then—

BONK!

They let out a simultaneous “Ow!” and he had to remind himself to keep his eyes closed in his confusion.

Ladybug reached up to feel his face, then gasped in disbelief.

“Chat! You… you wear glasses!”

He snickered at her surprised reaction. “Is that so shocking? Do you not like glasses?”

She sputtered, “N-no! I mean, yes! I mean, th-that’s not it. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all!”

Chat couldn’t help himself. “So would you say that you made a… spectacular discovery?” he said cheekily.

Ladybug let out a long, exaggerated groan at the pun as she plopped her head onto his chest, causing him to break into a barely-contained giggle fit.

“My soul just died a little from that terrible joke,” she croaked out.

“I apologize; that’s just how eye roll!”

Ladybug made an even more dismayed sound that resembled a deflating balloon, which only made Chat crack up even harder.

“You’re soooo awwwwfuuul,” she groaned, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Here,” he said, sliding his glasses off his nose and onto the top of his head, resting just above the hairline. “Now they’re out of the way.”

“Good,” Ladybug giggled. “Because I’d really like to try again.”

He chuckled, angling his head down. “Whatever My Lady desires,” he replied, more than happy to comply.

-----------

Marinette glided across her bedroom, half-dancing, half-skipping, humming along to the music coming from her computer while she brushed her teeth. She paused to pick up her mannequin, spinning it around as if dancing with an imaginary partner.

“Marinette, you probably shouldn’t do that with a toothbrush in your mouth,” Tikki advised, though an amused smile tugged at her mouth.

“Hnn-kay,” Marinette replied with a giggle, setting down the mannequin, then made her way to the sink to finish up her bedtime routine.

When she was done, she walked over to where Tikki was resting at the desk, in a little handmade bed that could pass for a stylish pin-cushion or phone rest.

“Ready for bed?” she asked in a chipper voice, scooping up the kwami into her hands then heading up to her loft bed.

Tikki snickered at her charge’s excitement. This was definitely one of her favorite parts of mentoring a Ladybug. “Today was a good day for you, wasn’t it, Marinette?”

“Gosh, you can say that again!” she replied, voice high and giddy. “I just can’t believe it, Tikki! It feels like things just keep getting better and better. Now I get to plan our dates, gifts, anniversary milestones–”

Tikki raised a brow. “Uhh… Marinette, what happened to ‘taking things slow’?”

The girl pouted. “I am taking it slow! It’s not like I’m planning our wedding or anything!” The kwami rolled her eyes fondly in response.

Marinette set Tikki down on the pillow next to hers and flopped down stomach first. She turned around, still holding the pillow, and screeched happily into it, kicking her legs into the air. Tikki couldn’t help but giggle.

“Think you’ll be able to sleep with all this excitement?” she asked.

Marinette turned off the lights and snuggled under her blankets, squeezing her giant cat plushie.

“Yep! Boy, am I beat! I’m totally gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”

Tikki smiled warmly. “Great to hear. Good night, Marinette.”

Marinette let out a long yawn and rubbed the top of Tikki’s head with her finger. “G’night, Tikki.” ------

(Mood Music: The Lonely - Christina Perri)

This was most certainly not a good night. Marinette’s bleary eyes glanced over at the clock next to her bed.

3:00 AM, it said.

She groaned inwardly. She’d woken up about an hour ago and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, despite being completely bushed.

Something just felt… off. Her stomach was churning and her skin felt like pins and needles. Should she check to make sure the front door is locked? Did she forget to do any homework? Was there a test tomorrow in one of her classes? She just couldn’t think of anything that would require her attention. Why was she feeling so stressed?? Frustration had set in, and she dreaded having to go to school tomorrow (or rather, later today, in a few hours’ time).

Maybe she just needed some water to calm down her nerves. Because that’s clearly what it was, right? Just some subconscious anxiety, maybe about the future, or getting into a good university, or having to defeat Hawkmoth.

Well… when put in that way, she supposed there were a few rather stressful things happening in her life. But even still! She hardly ever had a hard time sleeping before, because she was always exhausted!

She slowly scooted out of the bed, careful not to wake Tikki, and climbed down from her loft. Letting out a lengthy yawn, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Maybe that would help settle her stomach.

And yet somehow, now that she was here, the uneasy feeling intensified.

What the hell?!

The last time she'd felt this kind of unexplained restlessness and malaise was when…

...When she’d found Chat in that alley after his confrontation with Hawkmoth.

Panic sunk into her gut and she bolted towards Chat’s bedroom. She reached the door and was about to burst inside, but she paused. Maybe stampeding into someone’s room uninvited while they were asleep was a bad idea. Not wanting to wake him up, but not willing to leave until she was sure of his safety, she instead crouched and placed her ear against the door.

Expecting to hear nothing except maybe some light snoring, Marinette’s eyes widened when instead she heard whimpering and sobbing. Needing no further invitation, she entered the room.

Chat was curled up in a fetal position facing away from the door, shaking and crying. It was too dark to see clearly, but she could tell he wasn’t transformed.

Is he upset? Is he sick??

She called his name with a small voice, “Chat Noir?”

The panting and sobbing continued, getting stronger and stronger with each second that passed.

“Chat, what’s the matter?” She sat on the bed and placed her hand on his back. The fabric of his shirt clung to his skin; his body was drenched in sweat.

Again, there was no response. By this point he began to toss and turn, almost thrashing in distress and terror.

He’s still asleep, Marinette realized.

“Chat, wake up!” she cried, shaking him vigorously, trying to rouse him from his nightmare. “Kitty, please! Wake up!”

He turned towards her, hair covering his face and sticking to the damp skin, and she had to force herself to not look at him directly to keep his identity a secret.

Seemingly out of nowhere, he surged forward, seizing her by the upper arms, his grip tight as a vise, and Marinette cried out in surprise.

His head hung down, and he sobbed as he squeezed even harder, “No! I won’t do it! I won’t hurt them! You can’t force me!”

She ignored the pain in her arms and called, “Chat! Please wake up! It’s me, Marinette!”

“No!! I’ll never hurt Marinette! Not ever!” he cried in a quivering, desperate voice; then he groaned and hissed in pain, in a way she could only describe as the sound of someone being tortured.

“I’m here, Chat! Marinette is here! You’re safe at home! You’re having a nightmare! Open your eyes!”

He seemed to respond slightly, his hold on her slackening somewhat, and she took this chance to slip completely out of his grip. She threw her arms around his shoulders and he seemed to go limp. She whispered into his ear, “Shhh… It’s just me… You’re okay… you’re safe now. Everything is going to be fine. I’m here to help. Don’t be afraid...” She began to rub his back, making long strokes up and down his torso, hoping that touch would help to awaken him.

Her calm reassurances and rubbing of his back continued until Chat’s hyperventilating stopped, and he slowly seemed to come to. He let out a shocked gasp and threw his arms around her.

“M-Marinette?! Marinette!! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he cried, and she felt fresh tears drip onto her sleeve.

She cradled the back of his head. “Chat! Why in the world are you apologizing?!”

“For everything. For being so weak. For being nothing but trouble for you ever since I came into your life. I never meant for all this to happen. It would’ve been easier for you if you’d left me in that alley that first night. It would’ve been easier for you if you hated me, just like everyone else.”

“Minou, I could never hate you,” she reaffirmed fervently, which only made him sniffle harder. “No matter what you’ve done or what mistakes you’ve made, you are deserving of love. You’re a good person, and more people love you than you might think. Things will get better. I promise.”

She held him as he continued to cry quietly, the pair still wrapped in each others’ arms in the otherwise silent darkness.

After a while, she dared to ask, “You don’t have to tell me what it was about, but… How often do you have these kinds of dreams?”

She felt him hesitate, unsure of whether he should divulge this information; but a few seconds later, he relented, and answered in a small voice, “I’ve had vivid nightmares every night for as long as I can remember, ever since I became Chat Noir. But I haven’t had one this bad since before I moved in with you guys. And… I’ve always been able to wake up on my own.”

“Oh, Minou…” she lamented, then kissed the top of his head.

He sniffled a little, rubbing her arm up and down gently in silent apology. “Marinette, I’m sorry to ask, but… c-could you stay? Just for a little longer? I-I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Of course, Minou. I can stay.”

“Oh, Mari… I was so scared,” he cried. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never.”

She closed her eyes so she could lower her head and kiss his forehead, barely able to contain her affection for him; immensely relieved that he’d finally calmed down. They situated themselves in the bed, arranging themselves into a position that would be comfortable for them both, and she was careful to avoid looking directly at him. He nuzzled into her, hugging her waist, and thanked her quietly. She ran her fingers through his still slightly damp hair, hoping to help him get as relaxed as possible.

Before long, she noted that his breathing had finally slowed, and she was content to watch his torso rise and fall in a tranquil rhythm until, eventually, she too was lulled into a restful slumber.

Meanwhile, outside the slightly ajar guest bedroom door, a certain baker pursed his lips in dismay... and regret.

------

Discordant Sonata Music Youtube Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLcYhk0HianmrUJWi61Hkbux08qc9oCTdB  

[enigmas-artdeck]

The Cold Felt Familiar

(Skitters in) HEY Y'ALL WANT ANGST?

Related to this, it’s quite the time with his bud, but not for long~. Buckle up buckaroos, angst is coming.

Also on AO3!

He should've seen it coming, he's used the same trick before. Promises of improvement, strength, power-

"Wouldn't it be wonderful to get him back? You were so close back then, before he was granted his empty title-"

He'd wanted nothing more to burst in and pull 2 havocs in Heaven himself for the sheer disrespect from the Heavenly Court. Bi Wa Men, a lowly stable keeper, wasn't a wonder why he stormed out. Oh yeah, giving him the title Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, only as a way to keep him complacent, that won't turn out bad at all.

"-Being trapped under Five-Finger Mountain-"

He swore, he screamed, he declared, he did everything without care for volume and respect once he found out about the imprisonment. Scoured that mountain for decades, never finding a trace of his friend anywhere. Ran himself raw, searching and pleading for anything or anyone to grant him mercy and let him find his lost companion.

They never did like him anyway.

 "-Going on the journey with Golden Cicada and his disciples-"

His blood boiled at that, the journey being the sole reason Wukong was…different. He was still impulsive and hearty, going to Heaven for bi-yearly fights, unafraid to fight anything, chaotic as ever. 

But in the fight at the mountains, after stealing Monkie Kid's powers, he knew Wukong was holding back. He heard all the tales (however scrambled they became over the centuries), and had seen himself the power he held. He could've leveled the area and be done with the dispute in mere minutes. They fought, that's true, but the only reason he was beat was because of the kid.

Wukong didn't even have the dignity to strike him down himself, relying on a trainee who'd needed his powers locked up.

It was downright laughable, nay, pathetic at how Wukong was holding back because of one journey.

"-Before he struck you dead."

Oh. 

Ah, the one experience he had with death. The one where even after blotting out and ripping his name from the book had him checking over his shoulder and hiding in the shadows for a century in f- caution. It was that long before he realized Wukong did the same thing and no one went after him again (the others don't count, that was Heaven trying to remove his immortality).

Every time he saw his scar, he couldn't help but flinch. It still seemed fresh, still felt raw. His red facial marking didn't help either. (Keeping the glamor was second nature to him after all these centuries. He likes causing nightmares, not having them.)

Wukong didn't hold back then.

He took a deep breath, frosty air chilling his lungs as he turned to the young girl holding the spirit whispering promises laced with shards of ice and flakes of snow.

"Deal." He sneered.

(Macaque didn't want to think about the freezing light crawling down his throat. Too familiar. Too frightening.)

θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ 

Having a body mate was weird, but he learned to tune it out for the most part. Acquiring her ice abilities gave him an edge no one saw, and having her on energy sensory lookout helped with telling who's who and keeping tabs on the shady folk. Added a bonus in battle since she could warn him of any ambushers.

Though there were a couple...nitpicks he had.

Macaque had noticed with each new shadow clone, they turned just the teeniest shade bluer, thankfully not visibly noticeable to other folk yet.

Oftentimes when he summoned his staff, the spikes were coated in thin layers of ice. He rather let the blood flow from his enemies, thank you (though he rarely did more than a passing glance).

Even his shadow smoke form was tinged blue, frost trailing up the wrapping adorning it.

No matter, Macaque could handle this, he was flexible in his strategies (certainly helped with stealing Sun Wukong's power from the kid.) He would rather do without the personal physical changes.

Despite how many layers he covered himself with, his fur and skin stayed cool to the touch. Was a great help in traveling to the warmer sections of the area. With the drawback of visiting anything below 15 °C intensifying the chill. 

His face marking, the brilliant red he associated with power, ferocity, hurt, had blue creeping along his eyes. It looked to be icing out in crystalline patterns if he got close enough to reflections.

And his scar, the reminder of why he didn't just remove the spirit he was housing, stayed iced over even in his current setup in the Flaming Mountains.

Ah well, a quick glamor could fix those up. Right now he needed to strategize a way to get Wukong off Flower Fruit Mountain, separating him from the kid and the menagerie. 

(Macaque rose from sleep littered with some cuts and bruising. Didn't notice his camp was a few miles closer to Flower Fruit Mountain. Couldn't notice the blue fading back into gold sclera.)

θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ 

"What the hell was that?"

Macaque snarled at his reflection, the outline of White Bone Spirit staring back at him with nonchalance.

"I helped you win the battle and retreat, is that not what you wanted?"

It was going so well, Wukong managed to be separated with a few shadow clones and simple visual and vocal glamours. The recent attack (more like stolen power-high frenzy. Paint crudely helped hide the Demon Bull family's emblem) from the Gold and Silver Demon Brothers managed to split the group up. It was a simple send off of the right fakes to the right area after they split.

Once Wukong was below and far enough, Macaque made his entrance discreetly, ambushing him just as the other caught wind of something off. 

And it was going great for a while, without his staff Wukong was forced to fight harder. Wasn't close to the levels of Wukong back in the day, but more than the mountain battle. And the sheer thrill of it, seeing his "bud" let loose more, feeling the higher thrum of energy, oh gloriously maddening!

At least until a quick quip about the fake Wukong acting his part of the plan slipped out. Macaque found himself with too warm a liquid dripping out of his nose and mouth, from a punch and kick respectively.

The clarity at which he saw the unfiltered rage made the haze feel less like fog and more like a spotlight.

It was touch and go for a bit after that, but after a harsh, nearly numbing kick had Macaque gasping for breath, he asked for a boost as he wide eyed the threatening advance.

Blinding blues and white crept over his vision's edge, making Wukong's painfully shocked and horrified face the last thing he saw. Macaque regretted calling his power forth.

"I wanted a power boost, not a power surge blackout!"

"You received the power, but you were already on the verge of blacking out. I'm sorry it made you do so-"

"Excuses, excuses, that won't change the fact of what happened." Macaque turned away, only his eyes giving away his surprise, coming face to face with the cyan glow of White Bone Spirit.

"...Since when could you do that?" 

"When I'm not active."

"'When I'm not-' you mean to tell me you can pop out willy nilly? You didn't tell me this before?" Exasperation dropped in his tone, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

"It never came up, this situation is different from humans. With your power, I couldn't-"

"I don't care, you're out." Held up his hands, moving forward, wanting to be done and gone from her.

"I'm sorry-" She made no effort move out of his way, so he walked through. 

"I don't want an apology, I want you out, gone, see ya! Deal's off, get your ice and leave-!"

"-But the body isn't yours now." 

Realization dawned on him once he passed through. Macaque froze.

As in the body stopped responding to any movement he willed.

"Oh, what's wrong? Can't move what was yours?" Cyan and white passed around behind him, swirling in the air as she skimmed her chilled fingers up his neck.

"Well then, I suppose there isn't anything special about you." She cupped his face, drawing in close, her eyes filling his entire vision. In the cold white, he could see his own gold turn deep, icy blue.

"You're just a macaque with nothing left." With that she drew back into the body.

Hundreds of eyes gleamed from the shadows, some stretching out on shapes familiar- himself- but wrong. He willed his body to move forward, to turn, to fall, do anything to get him away from the twisted glowing outlines as they approached.

He didn't even so much as jolt when the screaming skeletal face flooded his internal vision, bringing an icy air with her. Forcing to stare at the eternally screaming maw, dark icy hands grabbed hold and pulled down, with him along. 

No sound left him, not even a gasp.

(The bleakness made him want to flee.)

(The chill made him want to scream.)

(The nothing made him want to cry.)

(Macaque did.)

θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ 

Wukong slammed into the volcano's side, smoke and ash obscuring his vision. Blue cut through the thick black, having him reach back into the lava. Red and black shot to the unwelcome color, but turned to white powder before reaching the target.

"Aw, what's wrong Great Sage?"

Okay, this was bad, this was wa-a-ay bad, but distance was key, if he could get distance he could vanish and regroup with MK-

When did the molten rock turn to ice?

Wukong feverishly tugged at his right side, the ice crawling up his limbs, spreading out over stone and lava alike.

He made the mistake of turning around.

 A blue eye with a pinprick snowflake iris nearly touched his own golden eye. Steam rose out past their fangs, doing nothing to help the chill rolling off.

"You look like you've seen a ghost!"

[bdfanfic]

Oak in Grey Hollow - 1

Chapter 1 - Enchanter For Hire!

He was an odd man, even for an Argonian. That much was certain - save for the ‘man’ part. Argonians were weird. She assumed he was male, but in the two months she had been travelling with him, she still wasn’t 100% sure. Things had transpired… weird things… that left her very confused as to that. Still, as a beggar quite literally, she hadn’t been in a situation to be choosy when they’d first met - and frankly, she didn’t really care. As the cart bounced and bumped along the road, she looked at Hollow and thought back to when they’d first met…

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

She had managed to stave off the more obvious but distasteful employment opportunities in the Imperial City only by cleverness and pure luck. Growing up on the streets, she’d gotten pretty good at scavenging. Now that she was maturing, however, things were tougher. Handouts to a street urchin were one thing, but those were harder to come by as she grew. Such offerings often came with favors. Favors that thus far she’d managed to refuse or elude.

However, she had finally been forced to try her hand at robbery, and that had been her undoing. It wasn’t that she was unsuccessful - far from it. She had managed to purloin quite an impressive collection of silverware that fetched a good price with a somewhat shady dealer she knew. However, too late she discovered that the house had been protected by the Thieves’ Guild, and it took the Guild little time to uncover her identity.

From a friend, she had fortunately discovered that she had been revealed to the Guild before they’d actually caught up with her - but that left her with only one choice: flight. She’d had no time to prepare, and hastily set out for Leyawiin as the most distant city still within Cyrodiil, catching the first caravan out of town immediately.

Leyawiin had turned out to be even less than hospitable to her, however, and her prospects there rapidly diminished as her funds ran short. Her own sense of self-respect kept her out of the taverns and brothels that seemed increasingly to be her only prospective source of employment.

It was in a dark mood that she now sat alone, fishing for her next meal at a small lake some distance from the city walls. A mile distant she saw a farmer toiling at his field, and she found herself envying the man. Backbreaking and meager as that occupation may be, at least he knew where his next meal was coming from.

She had kept her hair cut short and unkempt, and had kept her figure under wraps - often passing herself off as a boy to avoid unwanted advances. So far it had worked, but increasingly nature was making it more and more difficult to maintain the ruse. Tears began to well up as her thoughts of the future went from dark to black, and she wondered if suicide would actually be worse than following the only path she saw open to her. She cursed the mother and father she’d never known for bringing her into this world with no talents whatsoever.

Then she heard singing. It was so out of place here that it seemed to be magical, even if the words were foreign and unintelligible. Jel, undoubtedly. Yet they were sweetly sung and the melody was enchanting. She looked around for the source as it slowly became louder. The creaking of wheels accompanied it, and she left her makeshift fishing pole on the ground as she crept through the grass towards the road.

A covered cart was there, slowly creaking down the road, rolling away from the city with a sole Argonian swaying to the mismatched wobble of it’s wheels.  She was strangely drawn towards this odd character, with his wide-brimmed hat and long cloak left conspicuously open. But it was his eyes that really drew her own. They were black, but with the most enthralling blue sclera, recalling perhaps the ocean itself.  She’d never seen anything like them, and she had certainly met many Argonians, being so close to the Black Marsh.  

Suddenly he stopped, reigning in the old grey mare that drew his cart. She ducked low as his head swiveled towards her, though he didn’t stop his singing until he had finished the verse.

“Ah! A young woman, Anabelle! We have a guest! Come, don’t be shy. Come out from the grass there. You are no snake to crawl on your belly. Come, I am Oak in Grey Hollow! Traveling Enchanter and Mage Extraordinaire, purveyor of fine magical potions, goods and enchantments of all sorts. Known across Tamriel by the finer establishments! Perhaps you are in need of some magetallow candles? They are my specialty! Oh, come. I know you’re there, Miss. Hiding is rude and you are no brigand.”

She raised her head above the grass hesitantly.

“There you are! Come! My hat tells me you are in need of my services.  Oh yes, I can help.  But please, what is your name, Miss? I must know something of you, in order to best assist. Come and tell me, what can the great Oak in Grey Hollow do for you?!”

She stood, brushing the grass from herself. The Argonian brought a smile to her lips somehow, an expression that felt out of place. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled. But his own enthusiasm was infectious.

“Oh, sir, I’m just a beggar. I’ve nothing to pay you with.”

The Argonian squinted his eyes at her. “Oh, I see. Well… alas, that is a problem. Payment up front. Sorry, company policy. Can’t break policy, no.”

Her spirits faded as he confirmed her expectations. But he had not resumed his ride. He sat looking at her, as if thinking deeply.

“Wait a moment,” he said. “I’m getting an idea…”

She approached the cart, reading the badly faded painted words on the side: “Oak in Grey Hollow - Enchanter for Hire!”

“I’ve got it! My candle has come through yet again!” he said, and removed his hat and revealing the most marvelous thing. A candle sat perched atop his head, apparently firmly affixed by the melted wax that had flowed from it’s still-burning wick. His hand reflexively went towards it’s tip as if in a instinctive gesture.  

“Ah yes, still alight! It’s my Idea Candle, you know! Gives me great ideas!  Also helps with the hat’s enchantment, you know…  Magetallow.  Say, do you need any magetallow candles? I’ve got heaps in the back. LOADS of em!”

“Um… no. Sorry Sir.”

“Oh, no. Call me Oak. Or Hollow. No ‘Sir’s here! Not among the staff. Oh no, we have a relaxed policy here in the company. Management and Labor are united, you see? You’re not going to stage a strike, are you?”

She stood open-mouthed, more confused than ever.

“No? Good. Well then, hop aboard and I’ll tell you your duties.  Come on, come on up…”

“What?”

“Ah… I see. So that’s how it is… Holding out for more pay. No, no… I understand.  It’s just business. Okay, if you insist. The hat is never wrong. Okay, but only 20% more, and that’s my final offer!  Take it or leave it.”

“Twenty percent of what?”

“Why, your base salary of course! I can do no more than that! Please, I’m not made of money! I knew someone that was made of money once, but that ended badly for him. But I’m not him. Really, any more and I’d ruin myself! Please take the offer?”

“Um… what’s my ‘base salary’?” she said, but found herself crossing to the other side of the cart and smiling. The guy was obviously insane, and yet he seemed harmless enough. Maybe she could get a free meal out of him at least.

“Why, zero of course.  Okay, 25% more, but that’s it! Either stay down there or sit here beside me and take the job. What’ll it be?”

She didn’t hesitate. She had no other prospects. She climbed up and sat beside the insane Argonian.

“Ah, you drive a hard bargain! But a deal’s a deal. Now, let me tell you about the job…”

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

She smiled now, months later, recalling that day. The insane enchanter and the beggar - what a match!

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

“Up Anabelle!” called the enchanter as he whipped the reigns, and the cart started off again. Now perched on the seat beside Hollow, she had to hold on with one hand as the cart jogged back and forth.

“As you may have surmised, I travel these lands now, bringing joy and happiness through the power of enchantment to both great and humble here in Cyrodiil. But I could use an assistant, especially one of your beauty and talent.”

She looked down at herself and laughed. She probably should have taken a bath back at that lake. She stank. But he was continuing.

“I am - you may not have noticed - an Argonian. However, through circumstances too tragic to relate, I have come to Cyrodiil, which I find is peopled greatly by your own kind. Now, even as attractive as I am, it seems there are some locals who are somewhat off-put by my native race. Hard to believe, but it’s true. Why, just a few days ago, I was escorted most unceremoniously from my temporary residence outside a local village with the most rude epithets I’d never expect to hear from those whom I’d brought such joy and happiness to! Yet, there it is. Open racism can sometimes run rampant in the backwaters of even such civilized realms as Cyrodiil.”

“I can’t believe it,” she said, getting into the spirit of the moment.

“Oh, I know! But that’s where you come in, Miss.  Oh, say, did you ever tell me your name?”

“I have lots of names, Mr. Hollow. Never really knew my real name. Orphaned.”

“Just ‘Hollow’ please. Mr. Hollow was my father. Not really though. Orphaned you say? I’m an orphan too, did you know? But the world is my mother and the sky is my father. Between the two, I was nursed and raised.  Still, you must have a name. Do you want me to choose one?”

She smiled. She’d never much liked any of the names she’d chosen for long. She kept changing them. Her foster parents had named her Colena. She hated it worst of all.

“Oh, yes, please.  You make up a name for me!” she said eagerly, and meant it.

“Hmm,” he said, removing his hat. “Is my candle still burning?”

She looked at the glowing wick and nodded as he put the hat back on.

“Good. My best ideas come from my candle. Then ‘Mira’. I shall call you Mira.”

“Mira? What does that mean?”

“Hell if I know. I just like the sound.”

She considered it, and decided she liked the sound of it too.

“Then Mira it is,” she said happily. “Now, about this job…”

“Oh,” Hollow said, recalling his earlier train of thought. “Well, yours shall be the pacifying influence of a beautiful woman. You will display yourself prominently as my assistant. That should help alleviate the more racist tendencies of our potential customers, don’t you think?”

Mira scoffed, “Beautiful woman? Hollow, you’re Argonian and maybe not such a good judge of human female beauty.”

Hollow turned to her, his head cocked to one side and looked her up and down.

“You think not? Well, perhaps you are right. I do have some things that may help with that though. But that’s for later. For now, how’s your singing? Do you know any Jel?”

“Singing? Jel?”

“Ah.  Well, let me teach you a song. Best way to learn Jel. A musical language, even if your throat isn’t really built for it.”

“I… might be able to sing better, if perhaps I could get a bite to eat first?” she suggested hesitantly.

“Oh my! Oh dear! Certainly! One moment!” he said, handing her the reins as he fumbled for a pack underneath the seat.

“Hollow! I’ve never driven a horse before!” she protested, eyes widening in fear. As if sensing it, the horse turned back to her and seemed to give her a menacing look, but Anabelle kept on plodding along anyway.

“Just hold onto the reins, girl. Now do let me look. I know I left it… Ah! Here it is. Now, let’s see what I have here…  Apple? I have carrots too.”

She nodded happily, though she was too scared to take her eyes off the horse for fear it might bolt at any moment.

“Very good. I keep them for Anabelle, but I don’t think she’d mind sharing with you.”

She looked at him with menace that he apparently didn’t catch, but he took the reins back - and she took the apple.

An hour later, she was sated and happily singing along with Hollow. She found that, though she still didn’t understand a word she was singing, she did have a talent for harmony which Hollow praised with enthusiasm. The day fell into evening as the two whiled away the afternoon and Hollow taught her a variety of songs. Finally he pulled the old cart off the road and into a glade out of sight of the road.

She realized as they got down from the cart that, though she’d no earthly idea what the future held, she had never been happier in her life.

[potentiallymrsdevorak]

In Fields of Flowers (The Arcana)

Chapter Five: Tea Roses (I’ll Remember, Always)

Pairing: Julian x Nijah

Summary: Nijah has contracted the plague. How will she spend her last days? Will Julian find a cure in time?

Word Count: 4700~

Author’s Note: Long overdue but this is the final chapter in the series! I’ve really enjoyed writing it but will probably not do another series for a long time! They are a lot of work (if you know me from the last fandom I was in you would know lol). I really hope you guys enjoyed and I will still continue writing!!!

Tagging: @drunkenomnist, @rromanovv, @juliandevoraknsfw

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

The first day was not as bad as she anticipated.

Sure, her body ached a little bit, but without noticing the red sclera, she would have never known she was sick.

She was quarantined right away, in the same room she has been in ever since she started treating other patients. Funny how the tables have turned, she thought as Dr. Satrinava came in to run tests on her. Her thumb rubbed against the ring that sat on her finger, twirling the band round and round in anticipation.

“You too, Nijah?”

“Seems so.”

The doctor tisked and shook their head, looking over their notes. “So it says that you saw it this morning right after you woke up. Was there something you may have done to cause the spread of the plague?”

“I took off my mask right after my last patient died.”

“Ah, I see.” Satrinava answered, scribbling frantically in their notes. Nijah knew they were silently judging her, for that was something they had taught all the apprentices not to do a long time ago. “It spreads much quicker than we anticipated…” Muttering a few key notes to themselves, they folded the paper and placed it in their pocket.

The doctor began a series of tests and treatments - some that were quick and practically painless, and some that felt horrible and lasted all day. She was forced to lather herself in animal bile, dance until her feet nearly bled, drink an herbal mixture that tasted nothing like she had imagined, and a few other things that truly made her feel even worse than before.

“Dr. Satrinava...do you think that all of this will work?” Nijah asked as she inhaled the scent of a dead rat through her nostrils. She silently applauded herself from not gagging.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try…” They said before packing up their medicinal cart. “I will be coming back with your dinner soon. Thank you for being cooperative with me today.”

“No problem...as long as the cure is found soon.”

“By the way,” they added, “as you were changing into your patient’s gown, I noticed that there was a document left in here for you.” They handed you a piece of paper, folded ever so perfectly. She knew exactly what this was.

As Dr. Satrinava exited the room, she curled up in the corner of her cot, opening the delicate piece of paper slowly. The way the ink traveled across the paper made her feel a sense of relief, and she swore his scent was embedded in the paper itself. It was as if she was in his arms all over again as her fingers trailed over every single word he had written for her eyes only.

My darling Nijah,

It pains me so much to leave your side. I would even be upset if I was only gone for a day. However, I do not know how long I will be away from you, which breaks my heart the most.

If you are reading this, it means that I am already at the palace in Vesuvia. Funny, isn’t it, that the castle was what brought us together and now it is tearing us apart? It’s a bittersweet irony that I cannot stop thinking about.

But although I cannot be with you now, I want you to know that my heart only longs for you. You’re the one I want to come home to every night, to wake up next to every morning, to spend every waking moment of every day. I can’t stop thinking about it, a life with you is the only thing I want.

One might think how I fell for you so quickly. Call it fate, call it destiny...when I first saw you in the ballroom, I knew I had found the one. You’ve been so kind, so sweet, so caring and loving to a man who doesn’t deserve anything at all...when I’m with you, Nijah, I’m home.

I promise I will marry you. I have another ring picked out so I may properly propose to you. We can take our time or we can rush things...whatever you want. I’m going to give you the life you’ve always wanted.

Wait for me. Please.

I love you,

Dr. Julian Devorak

Nijah held the paper close to her heart and clutched her swollen stomach with the other hand, the tears overflowing from her eyes. She realized she could never give him the future that he deserved.

And that made her feel worse than the plague ever could.

By the second day, her spirits were already low.

When she fell asleep the night before, she felt nothing but emptiness. She missed having Julian by her side, let alone anyone around her, and she tossed and turned in the cot until she finally drifted off to sleep. However, her mind was only filled with nightmares, waking her up after what felt like a few moments of sleep. She could feel the eye bags bulging as she woke up, not even able to be cured by a fresh breeze.

She knew that her body was aching and trembling, so much that even Dr. Satrinava was concerned. They ceased to do too many treatments that day for her sake, but still made their best attempt to give her some relief. But even the leeches weren’t enough.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really.” Nijah eyes the parasite sucking her blood out of her. This probably isn’t good for the baby, isn’t it? “It just makes me feel a little more...drained.”

The doctor chuckled under her breath, eyes twinkling a bit as she carefully peeled off the creature. “Even at your worst, you’re still trying your best. I respect that, Nijah.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

They placed the leech back in it’s jar and prepared to leave until tomorrow. “I will have someone else bring your dinner momentarily. I think it might make you feel better than the leeches.”

As if right on cue, there was a knock on the door to the room. The door creaked as another plague mask with a plate of warm food came into view.

“Hello?”

Nijah knew that voice right away, her entire face lighting up. “Katja!” She sprung up out of her seat a little too quickly, making her knees wobble as she fell right back into her spot.

Katja rushed over to her side. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself!” She laughed as she helped Nijah get settled in. She placed a soft blanket over her legs and placed the plate in her lap.

Dr. Satrinava nodded at the two friends, a smile crossing over their features. “Then I will leave you to it, Doctor 193.” And with one last wave, she was gone for the evening.

“Nijah, Nijah...what am I going to do with you?” Katja crossed her arms over her chest. “How in all the seven hells did you catch the plague?”

“I’m not the smartest, you see,” Nijah said with a mouth full of potatoes, “and I took off my mask after my last patient died.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t want to fill it with my tears.”

“Oh, that’s right…” Katja remembered their conversation previously in the dining hall, and how Nijah’s best friend from home had to die under her care. “I guess that is valid. Didn’t think the plague would spread so quickly, huh?”

“Definitely not.” Nijah moved on to the meat, chewing it roughly. It was more tender than she was used to.

“Have you heard from Dr. Devorak since you left?” Katja wiggled her eyebrows and gave her a smug grin.

“No, but…” Nijah sighed. “He wrote me a letter that I read yesterday. And he wanted me to stay here until he came back from Vesuvia, but it seems like that will be impossible now.”

Katja’s eyebrows knit sadly, her gloved hand rubbing against Nijah’s leg. “I’m sorry, dear.”

“He wants to marry me, Katja.” She confessed, holding out her ring finger for her friend to see. “He wants to spend the rest of his life with me. And I can’t even give him that.”

Katja’s gaze trailed over to the golden band, shining in the dim light of the room. “It’s beautiful, Nijah…”

“Want to know the worst part?” She choked up, her right hand pressing her stomach. “I’m...I’m pregnant, Katja.” She squeezed her eyes shut, the vulnerability of revealing such a huge secret frightening her.

Katja’s jaw nearly came unhinged from her skull. “Nijah...when were you going to tell me?” She shuffled closer to her friend, holding her ear next to her friend’s stomach. “How far along are you?”

“I have no idea. Jul-I mean, Dr. Devorak and I have...done it many times.”

Her friend’s face twisted in confusion. “Wait a minute. Just how many times are we talking about here?”

“Well…”

And so Nijah told her the whole story, how she met Dr. Devorak as a stranger at the masquerade, how he quite figuratively (and literally) swept her off her feet. From the enchanting first night they spent together to the time he cornered her in his office, telling her to forget that there was anything even between them. How Luka had tried to kill her if she didn’t let him have her body for the night, and how Dr. Devorak saved her life. She didn’t leave out any details, any moments, any words that he may have said. She wanted Katja to know everything.

A huge weight lifted off her shoulders as she finished the story. “And then he had to leave. Just like that. And he still doesn’t know…”

“Nijah…” Katja shook her head and let her gaze cross across the floor.

“And there’s no way he’ll ever know. He’ll never be back in time...to give me the cure…”

Nijah’s eyes overflowed with tears once more, a sensation she has become quite familiar with. She was hopeless by this point. She would never see Dr. Devorak again. She would never tell him that she had been carrying his child for months. She would never get to marry him. She would never spend the rest of her life with him.

In fact, she would be lucky if she even got to take a step outside of the walls of her cell, holding her back as if she was a prisoner. Nothing could save her from this terrible fate.

Katja knew her words couldn’t help her friend this time. As Nijah cried, she held her friend close to her chest, at least trying to give her one last bit of comfort before she was gone forever.

The third day was the worst of them all.

Nijah could barely feel anything but fire burning through her body. It hurt to move, to blink, hell, it even hurt to breathe. The ring and the rest of the clothes made it feel like something was holding her underwater, not giving her any room to catch her breath. Every time she coughed, it was like she was being stabbed in her chest. The blood splatters on the floor and on her hand made it more believable, as well.

She curled up on her side in the cot, not wanting to move a muscle any longer. She was ready to leave this world.

Katja came and saw her one more time. She was surprised to see her dear friend in such a terrible state. It looked like she hadn’t eaten in days, her body was nearly skin and bones, and she looked much paler than normal. The red dots on the ground were what worried her the most

“Wh...what happened here?” She asked with a worried tone, getting down on her knees to examine the spots left all over her side of the room. “You didn’t try to...” she continued, looking at her friend’s wrists.

As if on cue, another cough racked Nijah’s body, blood spurting out of her mouth and landing right at Katja’s feet. She fell deeper into the cot, feeling defeated. She was essentially hopeless.

“Nijah…” Katja muttered, a gloved finger rubbing through the droplets, “This...we’ve never seen something like this in a patient before. Have you?”

Nijah shook her head to the best of her ability. She thought she saw Selene cough up blood, but she couldn’t remember in her state.

“This...this is the biggest breakthrough we’ve made yet!” Katja jumped up, immediately jotting down as many notes as she could. “We can take samples of your blood and run tests on them. Valdemar and Satrinava could send the data results to Dr. Devorak and it could get him closer to the cure for...for…”

Her eyes fell on her dying friend. She had never seen someone she cared for looking so malnourished, so horribly fucked over in this way. A wave of sadness crashed over her mind as she came to sit next to her on the cot. 

“Ah, Nijah...I have a lot to thank you for. Not just for this. But I think you’ve made me better.” Katja took her clean gloved hand and patted her on the back. Nijah winced a bit, taking a gasp of air (that, of course, made her feel much worse).

“Ah, probably not the best thing to do right now.” Katja placed her hand in her lap, interlacing it with her other fingers. “...I mean it, though. Your kindness to me has helped me not be so bitter. Involving me in your life has made me feel like a part of something bigger than myself. I will cherish this friendship forever and ever. I’ll…” she sniffed, holding back tears. “...I’ll never forget you, Nijah.”

As she stood to leave, she opened her coat pocket and pulled out an iris. “I saw this while I was walking the grounds last night...and I think you would want it more than me.”  She placed the flower in front of Nijah’s hands, giving her friend one last smile before she left her forever.

“Goodbye, Nijah. Sweet dreams.”

As she shut the door behind her, Nijah decided to follow her orders, closing her eyes as her fingers gripped the frail flower stem, hoping her dreams would be better than reality.

I’ve been in this place before, she thought.

It was the same flower field from her first time meeting Selene. The same one she saw when she spent her first night with Julian. This was her favorite place. This time, there was no cloudy red skies or thunderstorms. The flowers bloomed gracefully, the sweet fragrances flowing from their buds, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. The only thing she could see was life.

And she could feel the life inside of her, Julian’s child. She looked down and saw that her belly had swollen to twice its size underneath her cropped shirt and long pink skirt. She held it tenderly, rubbing it and wondering what her baby would look like when it was finally born. Had she and Julian talked about baby names yet? She kept on imagining that she would name him Azrael, but only time would tell who they will become.

Suddenly, she heard a voice come from behind her. She was surprised to see that Selene had reincarnated herself, wearing a flowing white dress, much different than her usual attire.

“Nijah! You’re here!” She shouted, hopping through the flowers to embrace her friend. She took great care to hold the baby bump, too. For Selene, the child would be like family to her.

As Nijah squeezed her friend around the shoulders, she felt someone else’s presence behind her. “Good to see you’re okay, hun.” That voice had to be Katja, she thought as her own arms held them all together, as if they were three peas inside of a pod. Their feminine scents overwhelmed Nijah’s nose to the point where she was almost dizzy.

“It’s so good to have you all here.” Nijah smiled as her friends released her, joining hands with each of them. These women meant so much to her, and she would be forever thankful for their roles in their lives. She just hoped they knew that.

Before long, a tall figure made their way through the flower beds. Nijah, of course, knew who they were right away.

“Dr. Jules!” She shouted, joined by the giggles of the women right beside her.

As he came even closer, she could see the happiness on his face. Finally, she thought, we can have the life we have wanted for so long. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, his hands cupping her face so perfectly.

“Ah, darling. You look as beautiful as ever.” He crooned, his hands moving down to the bump in her stomach. “And Odine is looking nearly as good as her mother.”

Nijah rolled her eyes. “How are you so sure it will be a girl?”

“I’m a doctor, my dear. I know these things.”

Her knees felt weak as he flashed his signature grin. She couldn’t resist it. He had a hold on her that she could never break free from, and she was just fine with that.

He turned around on his heel, looking back at her over his shoulder. “Are you ready for your next journey to begin?”

Without hesitation, she answered, “Yes.” And together, they all moved forward through the flowers, off into the setting sun.

And in that moment, her hurting soul finally left the world.

Julian was very busy at the palace, doing his best to find a cure. It turned out that Count Lucio had contracted it himself, although unlike the rest of the city, he had managed to have it for weeks and not die. It was a medical mystery to the doctor, but a pain in the ass for his coworker.

“Sometimes, I wish he would just die already.” Asra muttered under his breath as his fingers brushed against the book spines on the shelves in the library. 

Julian rolled his eyes, diving back into his work. For some reason, the magician rubbed him the wrong way. It was something about his cat-like smile making him think he was a suspicious person. His flat-out disdain for the Count was nothing but offensive to him, let alone the entire city. And the way his white hair bounced as he walked...Julian wished he could tame his curls to not have a mind on their own. He was completely jealous.

But, his mind trailed back to the woman who held his affections. He thought of her blonde, flowing hair, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the freckles dotting her cheeks and shoulders that he secretly loved, reminding him of the stars in the sky. He thought of her voice saying his name, her laugh directed at something witty he may have said or that he may have ran into a door frame. He thought of her fingers, touching him delicately across his face, making him feel at peace once again...

A knock on the door jolted Julian’s thoughts. A servant entered the room, a scroll rolled up in his hand.

“Dr. Devorak. This was sent for you.”

“For...me?” He asked, his cheeks feeling warm. He’s never received any sort of letters before, even when he was just beginning his practice.

He thanked the servant and unrolled it right where he stood. But, as he began to read it, he slowly sunk back into his chair, similar to his smile turning into a frown.

Dear Dr. Devorak,

I hope this letter finds you well. Unfortunately, I am writing this letter to bring you terrible news. Nijah has died of the plague.

She contacted it while taking care of her best friend, Selene, who passed after you left for the palace. Nijah may not have told you...she tended to keep her burdens to herself, didn’t she? Anyways, she caught it quickly after making a fatal mistake after her friend died. Although her mistake was tragic, her symptoms have given us further research to test and send to you in hopes that it will help you find the cure.

She is in a much better place now, Dr. Devorak. She spoke of you so highly, and she is so proud of your accomplishments. She loved you so much. Her final wish was to be buried with the ring you gifted her.

I hope that you continue to work hard so we can find a cure to the plague. We will be sending more research we have found once we have finished our tests. We are all looking forward to your discoveries, Dr. Devorak.

From,

Dr. 193, Katja Kuznetsov

Julian read the letter over and over again. He wished it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. He had been at the palace for less than a week…

And he already lost the one thing that would make this task seem worth it.

Feeling defeated, he slumped over his desk, crumpling the letter in his hands. He felt the tears soaking into the sleeves around his forearms as his shoulders quivered from his emotions. He didn’t care if his sobs were audible or not. He didn’t care what Asra or Count Lucio or anyone thought of him.

His heart had broken completely. The love of his life was gone, because he couldn’t find the cure quickly enough. He had lost the woman who had given his life meaning. And there was no way to get her back.

Unless…

A candle flame went off in his mind. His lifted his head up to face the other man in the room, eyes and face red from his tears. “Asra.” He shouted desperately.

“Dr. De...Julian, are you okay?” Asra arrived to his side, placing a hand on the doctor’s shoulder.

“You are a magician, are you not?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I…” Julian hesitated, his voice trembling. “...I just lost someone very near and dear to me. Is there...a way to bring them back?” His vision was filled with sadness, but Asra could see a small glimmer of hope deep in the doctor’s grey eyes.

“Hmm,” Asra contemplated. “There is one way I know how. But it will take a lot of work on my end.” The magician’s hand trailed from Julian’s shoulder to his cheek bones. “What would be in it for me?”

“Oh, please! I’ll do anything you wish. Just please...save her.” Julian got down on his knees, folding his hands together and shaking them pleadingly. He was a man that wasn’t afraid to beg. Especially for the one thing he truly needed in this world.

Asra chuckled under his breath, his hand moving up to the auburn hair and pulling against it roughly, jerking the doctor’s head back. He got down on his knees, pressing a searing kiss right underneath his jawline. Julian squiremed, his face flushing. This felt so wrong, but as Asra’s teeth nipped his skin, he moaned rather loudly. It was definitely feeling so right.

The magician’s mouth drew away, curled in his signature smile. “Meet me at my shop after sunset. There are a few things we need to discuss first.”

Julian’s fingers ghosted over the mark Asra left on his skin. Did that just happen? He thought as he felt the magician’s fingers untangle from his hair. His mind was in a daze. Never before has anyone touched him in such a way. His eyes glazed over as he watched the magician stand to his feet and begin walking out the library. He shook his head, bringing him back to his senses.

“D-do you...want me to walk you home?”

Three years later…

“Wow. What a strange night.” Nijah mutters to herself as she looked out into the dark streets of Vesuvia.

First, her magical master Asra has suddenly left on a journey to another unknown world, one that he was keeping a secret from her. These trips were not unusual to her, but the fact that he was keeping it so secretive made her more suspicious than usual. She knew he was hiding something from her, but what could it be?

Then, the Countess has visited not long after he left, then requested that she move into the castle to assist with some sort of grand plan after she had read her tarot cards. She didn’t mind the countess too much, but knew that Asra would not be happy if she were to up and leave the shop for such a long time. Then again, she was the widow of the wicked Count Lucio, so she may have some evil scheme up her sleeve as well. She wasn’t sure if she could trust her.

What could happen next? She thought as she released the door, her attention turned back into the shop. It had been her home for so long. She didn’t remember how she got it, all she knew was that it was her and Asra’s home. It felt strange to her, though. She never thought she would own a magic store, let alone learn any magic from Asra. The past few years had really been an experience for her, and she felt like in a past life, she would have a calling doing something else.

Oh, dear, she thought. With all this trouble, I completely forgot to feed Gris. I must go bring her the cabbage I promised her. The thought of her manatee familiar all alone made her heart wrench. She started to make her way towards the kitchen to make her animal’s favorite snack.

Then, as the candle in her shop blew out, she froze.

The door had taken much longer for it to shut than normal.

“Strange hours for a shop to keep.”

What the…

She turns her head around, trying to see where the sound is coming from in the dark, only the light of the stars guiding her.

“...Behind you.”

Sure enough, when she turns, she sees a tall, dark figure looming against the door. He continues to speak, his voice muffled by his plague mask:

“Now, sources say that this is the witch’s lair...so who might you be?”

Nijah feels her heart racing in her chest as the masked figure comes closer and closer. What does this doctor want? She furrows her brows, concentrating on conjuring her magical powers. She twirls her fingers as she mutters a spell, a ball of water forming between her hands. She intended it to hit him right in the chest, a defense spell Asra had taught her a long time ago.

“Oh?” He laughs as he grabs her wrist with his gloves, the water between her fingers dissipating into thin air. He has her body trapped against the wall and his towering frame.

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

What the hell is she supposed to do now?

“He’s been teaching you all his tricks? Unfortunately for you, I’ve seen them all befo-”

Reaching behind her, fingers grazing along the windowsill, she grabbed a glass bottle and smashed it on his forehead.

“Ack!”

Knocked loose by the blow, the stranger’s mask clatters to the floor. He’s bent over on the stones by her feet, trying to regain his composure. Nijah points the what’s left of the broken bottle in his direction, waiting for the moment she needed to strike again.

Nijah didn’t realize until it was too late that the bottle had been full, the water soaking his hair and the single globe amaranth lying on the floor around him. Bracing herself for the worse, she tightened her grip on the bottle as he slowly brought his head back up

Her racing heart stops cold when he lifts his bloodied gaze to hers, nearly dropping what’s left of the bottle.

“You do have guts.” He stated, his eyebrows furrowed.

She knew this man once. Everyone did. But she felt like she knew him a bit better than others might. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but she assumed she must have known him a long time ago, before her memories were lost. Maybe they were friends? Curly auburn hair, strong nose, pale skin, and those eyes…even though one of them was covered in an eyepatch, she still knew.

The band she felt on her ring finger felt much heavier than it normally did.

“Do...Doctor Jules?”

He gets to his feet once again, brushing the glass off of his coat.

“Haven’t heard that name in years...Nijah.”

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

Photo Creds

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

[notlivingwithoutyou]

Questionaire

It’s a long’ne

Basic Character Questions

First name? - Rudiania

Surname? - Evermore

Middle names? - Lynn

Nicknames? - Rudi

Date of birth? - July 20, 1 L.C.

Age? - Died at age 25

Physical / Appearance

Height? - 5′5″

Weight? - 130lb

Build? - In life she had a LITTLE bulk. Functional core and arm muscles from work on the farm. She got a bit leaner, and more toned over her time in the military.

Hair colour? - Black

Hair style? - Variant of a pixie cut with long, side swept bangs.

Eye colour? - Black, including the sclera due to demon/fel taint at the site of her death. In life - brown.

Eye Shape? - ‘Upturned’ almond shape

Glasses or contact lenses? - None

Distinguishing facial features? - The skin upon her jaw is aftermarket so it doesn’t QUITE match up in tone. Her bottom lip is also slightly fuller than her original, top lip. This can sometimes make her look like she has an under-bite. She’s conscious of this and is usually positioning her jaw/mouth to try and hide it.

Which facial feature is most prominent? - Eyes

Which bodily feature is most prominent? - Nothing particularly extraordinary. She’s a bit pear shaped, her breasts being on the smaller side with wide hips.

Other distinguishing features? - Nah

Skin? - Very pale, ashen.

Hands? - Calloused from work. Has very short nails for the same reason.

Make up? - No, but she has new motivation to try it.

Scars? - Plenty of small nicks and scars both from her time on the farm and in the service. The largest is a crescent-like shape near her left hip. A kobold tried to take a piece out of her and her shield wasn’t in the best position…

Birthmarks? - None

Tattoos? - No

Physical handicaps? - Slightly near sighted - archery courses didn’t go well.

Type of clothes? - When she’s lounging around she’s content in breeches and a belted tunic.

How do they wear their clothes? - Comfortably? She has slightly over-sized tunics she enjoys relaxing in if she’s not donning armor that day.

What are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc) - She likes to wear large boots, they usually include an equally large sole to give her more height. They’re well worn from the soldiers life - probably due for a sole replacement soon. With all the walking she tends to “burn through” socks quickly too so she doesn’t always wear them. When she does, she likes to wear over-the-knee style as an additional set of padding between her skin and her boots/cuisses.

Race / Ethnicity? - Human Forsaken

Mannerisms? - She tends to carry herself with a rigid stillness when she is on the job/not among friends, pensive. All business. When around those she is familiar there is a visible shift in how she holds herself and she becomes much more animated and engaging.

Are they in good health? - …She’s dead? She’s in one piece.

Do they have any disabilities? - Some would consider undeath a disability. Healing magic is painful. All of her senses are dulled compared to the living.

Personality

What words or phrases do they overuse? - “Absolutely” is her go-to affirmative.

Do they have a catchphrase? - Closest thing would be what she chants when she’s asked to drill a new recruit on shield use, “Location. Location. Location.”

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic? - She’s pessimistic by nature with her thoughts leaping to the worst - but she’s working on it.

Are they introverted or extroverted? - She’s a bit of a switch. After a long assignment with her squad she really wants to shut herself alone in a room for a few days. However she’s also fond of big nights in the barracks while the living are still awake.

Do they ever put on airs? - Nah. She doesn’t care for those that do either. She transferred out of Silvermoon A.S.A.P.

What bad habits do they have? - She’s messy as far as her belongings/living space. In life she liked to drink but now it doesn’t taste right. She’s a fidgeter. Stubbornness. She will zone-out, deep in thought more often than she should. Even on duty.

What makes them laugh out loud? - Physical comedy. Puns.

How do they display affection? - Very physical. Hand holding, cuddling, small kisses. Gifts: practical things that are of use in the intended’s day to day.

Mental handicaps? - I think phobias is on this list too so I won’t list that um.. No I guess. She’s livin’ the dream as one of the able minded.

How do they want to be seen by others? - Respectable, tough (these are part of why she has a boyish appearance, to be taken seriously which is hard at 5′5″), dependable, sincere.

How do they see themselves? - Inadequate, unintelligent, uninteresting - but one hell of a scrapper.

How are they seen by others? - Her family viewed her as very willful and bright.

Strongest character trait? - Definitely her dependability. She’s a woman of her word.

Weakest character trait? - Boot Camp managed to iron some of the impatience out of her but as mentioned elsewhere she can be stubborn. Good luck changing her mind on an issue without a good argument.

How competitive are they? - Fairly. She’s always feeling like she has something to prove.

Do they make snap judgments or take time to consider? - She was really bad about jumping to conclusions in her youth. Now more often than not she manages to catch and talk herself back to not act on something but it will still be lurking there...

How do they react to praise? - She does the socially acceptable thing to smile and say thank you - but most of the time she’s dismissing it. Most of her life it’s been an unwanted type of praise or it’s sounded hollow.

How do they react to criticism? - If it’s something serious it hits pretty hard given her views of herself but she has to maintain that Front of strength.  If it’s something silly like they want to say her chin looks funny she’ll tell them off - and then go stare in a mirror for a half hour.

What is their greatest fear? - ....You mean pick ONE?

What are their biggest secrets? - She’s lived a pretty open and simple life so she hasn’t had need for them. The one Big one that might one day mean her True Death is her personal Oath to protect her brothers - even if that means facing down Ertrig...

What is their philosophy of life? - Well this is connected to her attempts to deter her pessimism. She’s trying to remember there is always going to be bad times - she was 7 years dead and the war she was in never really ended. So you have to try and get happiness where you can, in the little things because that’s what’s worth being alive for.  Time is wasted if you’re dwelling in darkness.

When was the last time they cried? - When she recently rushed to Ertrig, scared she had ruined everything.

What haunts them? - Oh boy. Alright so, why she goes stir crazy at night/off duty when others have the sanctuary of sleep. If she doesn’t have distraction she is trapped in her brain with what haunts her. All the little things she could have done differently in life. The people she’s left behind and can’t approach now because she’d probably be attacked on sight. She still really misses her parents. The fact she’ll never have a family of her own. The fact that no matter how hard she fights to stay alive she will one day turn into one of the things she regularly cuts down in The Scar. The day Ertrig does. The day the Alliance and the Horde quit dancing around each other and focus.

What are their political views? - In life she was very pro-Alliance - but she’s learned the mess that is the political climate is not that simple. So I guess Disillusioned. She’s not Ride-or-Die this go around.

What will they stand up for? - This is hard to put to words without sounding cliche but she stands for justice. That’s one reason she’s adjusted so well to fighting for the Forsaken. They deserve justice. But she also believes in fairness. Things must be tempered! Killing random humans is not justice. That’s why she saved the buried humans in Hillsbrad Foothills. The innocent don’t deserve to suffer in the crossfire.

Who do they quote? - She doesn’t. Her words are her own.

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy? - Both! She has hobbies of both domains.

What is their sinful little habit? - Ah.... she... oogles the Captain... if she thinks no one is looking.

What sense do they most rely on? - Hearing.

How do they treat people better than them? - With much respect, a bit of awe depending on the individual.

How do they treat people worse than them? - Barest civility (she has SOME class).

What quality do they most value in a friend? - Genuineness.

What do they consider an overrated virtue? - Orderliness.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be? - She wishes she had an exceptional talent to make her unique.

What is their obsession? - Right now she’s still trying to play catch up with the years she was dead. Books, music, the cataclysm, the new furry bear people, so much going on.

What are their pet peeves? - Spitters. People that cough without covering their mouth (ESPECIALLY fellow Forsaken. Keep your bits to yourself my friend). Being interrupted/talked over. Passive Aggressive Behavior, spit it out and confront her or fuck off.

What are their idiosyncrasies? - Mmm the definition of this seems to be a little vague so I will do my best. She’s obsessed with personal hygiene. She talks to herself fairly often, especially when she’s cooking or working with herbs. She also sings to herself, again when working or when traveling. When she comes across a flyer or poster she gives it a dramatic reading - though it might not be very loud (Again, talking to herself. She’d probably have more than 4 friends if she was as talkative to strangers as she was with herself). Her spaces are cluttered but her armor/boots/daily gear all goes into the exact same place in the exact same positions every night. If she’s presented with something new she HAS to touch it, inspect it, maybe take it apart, WHAT ARE YOU HOW DO YOU THING.

Friends and Family

Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of? - It’s small now. She simply has two brothers left. Her parents might be scourge or forsaken living elsewhere or simply dead. Erttie.

What is their perception of family? - Trustworthy. People that you love and love you in turn. Would come to your aid and have your back. Shelter in the storm.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? - Older, two.  Her brothers James and Eric were born in 6 P.C. and 4 P.C. respectively.

Describe their best friend. - Right now her best friend is a young, shying violet of a blood elf of all things. Maybe it’s because her young age and sheltered past have prevented her from picking up Blood Elven....social habits....

Ideal best friend? - Genuine, dependable, adventurous, honorable, loyal, witty, supportive but willing to call her on her shit. You said IDEAL.

Describe their other friends. - Quiet, steady, reliable

Describe their acquaintances. - Outside of the company, the most common face she sees is when she wills herself onto the Orgrimmar Zeppelin. Deathguard Lawson held the ship for her once so she bares a few moments of pleasantries on deck before hiding inside. He is often curt but never sour.  

Do they have any pets? - Ertrig noticed her affection for animals and gifted her a young firebat pup.  She’s working with it regularly in hopes of it being a companion around and away from HQ.

Who are their natural allies? - There’s this instant camaraderie among the Forsaken that she’s noticed and kind of grateful for. It’s Us Against The World.

Who are their surprising allies? - Annie is her surprising ally! She never expected to meet an elf of her ilk.

Past and Future

What was your character like as a baby? As a child? - She was very rambunctious and once she could crawl she was exploring all over the place if she was put down for even a minute. This continued as a child, following her brothers wherever they went.

Did they grow up rich or poor? - It was neither extreme. It was Enough. The weather was usually well enough for decent crops each season - though one year an odd fungus wiped out a good portion of potatoes.

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected? - Rudi was The Baby. She was nurtured.

What is the most offensive thing they ever said? - She’s not very hateful by nature but she did her share of anti-Horde jesting with other soldiers over drinks while alive.

What is their greatest achievement? - Getting to leave home. Her parents were fine with her brothers enlisting but it took some convincing for them to be alright with her departure. She wanted to leave home on good terms. And it ended up saving her…

What was their first kiss like? - Awkward. Hiding from her brothers in some underbrush when she was 13 with a boy from Pyrewood.

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved? - Chucked her brother Eric’s pocket knife into a knothole. Told him where he could find it.  Didn’t tell him it was a home to a group of bees. Her mother gave her quite the tongue lashing while treating Eric’s sting covered hand.

What are their ambitions? - Low. She’ll be happy if she can survive the war and be able to retire to a quiet plot of land.

What advice would they give their younger self? - Think twice. Hug often. Don’t walk away mad. Yes it’s been long enough to send another letter.

What smells remind them of their childhood? - Pine! Damp earth. Burning sage. Musty books. Water.

What was their childhood ambition? - She actually wanted to be a great mage, burn away all her foes and have ALL the cookies to herself!

What is their best childhood memory? - She was eight. Her brothers were older, their interests were changing. They were getting different hobbies and didn’t play with her as much. James took her out, just the two of them and gave her her first riding lesson. No matter what she did wrong he was never condescending or mean about it. He was patient and treated her like an equal for the first time instead of the annoying tag-a-long little sister.

What is their worst childhood memory? - One morning she was the first to wake up and decided to start feeding the livestock. She walked out to a gory scene of blood, dismembered dairy cows and their maimed shepard dog, Tobias. Her father had to put him down.

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend? - No

When was the last time they were crushed with disappointment? - Ah... when they were first resurrected.

What past act are they most ashamed of? - What she did to her brother Eric. Now that’s she’s older she knows he could have died either from the sheer amount of stings or falling from the tree.

What past act are they most proud of? - She entered an infamous Dark Portal. She stared down demons. She died honorably.

Has anyone ever saved their life? - Yes. To her embarrassment James fished her out of Lordaeron Lake.

Strongest childhood memory? - The previously mentioned horse-riding lesson. It was a turning point for the better for their relationship.

Love

Do they believe in love at first sight? - A bit

Are they in a relationship? - Yes!

How do they behave in a relationship? - She’s very affectionate and doting, faithful to whom she is with.

What sort of sex do they have? - Her dulled sense of touch is making her feel more adventurous since some extra intensity is required.

Has your character ever been in love? - In the past, she thought she was but it doesn’t compare to what she has right now.

Have they ever had their heart broken? - Yes

Conflict

How do they respond to a threat? - While impulsive she’s learned that its best to gauge the severity of the threat, especially on duty when you represent Others. So she will Wait And See but she’s not above sending a gauntlet into someone’s face.

Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? - She’s really not big on mind games. That’s more suited to elves. If you REALLY want to throw down she can meet you when her shift is over.

What is your character’s kryptonite? - Her loved ones. She really dreads the possible day she looks across a battlefield and sees her brothers.

If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be? - Most likely she’d be sharing a house with Erttie so…

How do they perceive strangers? - She does her best to treat everyone with the same level of civility regardless of race. Even Blood Elves. Which can be dangerous because by nature she’s more trusting than she should be.

What do they love to hate? - …..it’selvesokay…

What are their phobias? - Acrophobia. Grew up with her feet firmly planted on the ground and she prefers it that way thank you very much.  

What is their choice of weapon? - Long sword and shield.

What living person do they most despise? - Right now she really doesn’t like what she’s heard about Stormwind’s new ruler… She feels like humans have become an absolute mess while she was ‘gone’. But who knows? Maybe she’s falling for biased propaganda again...

Have they ever been bullied or teased? - Of course, she had two older brothers. When she was 6 they thought it was hilarious to trap her in the outhouse. She was there for about 2 hours until her mum found her.

Where do they go when they’re angry? - She takes walks. She can’t stay still when she’s worked up/agitated.

Who are their enemies and why? - It sounds cliche but really her biggest enemy right now is herself. She’s living and helping people that she was fighting tooth and nail against. She’s trying to be better informed about events and not let former prejudices sway her. Quiet nights are an enemy because her brain runs away with thoughts of her fears. She fears True Death. She fears fighting her family. She fears becoming a mindless husk, of something happening to Ertrig, of the horde turning on The Forsaken - There’s a reason she has her fingers in so many pies hobby wise.

Work, Education and Hobbies

What is their current job? - Deathguard in the Forsaken Military. She’s under the banner of a specific company: Tranquillien Expedition. It was set up as a line of defense against the remaining scourge in the Ghostlands and Eversong Woods.

What do they think about their current job? - She is content. She’s not on any major Front as of now but she is still sent out to do what she feels is good.

What are some of their past jobs? - Her adolescence was spent on the family farm. After that she joined the alliance military until her death.

What are their hobbies? - Reading, fishing, trying foods, experimenting with herbs and how they effect her new body, day dreaming.

Educational background? - She was homeschooled by her retired-schoolmarm mother.

Intelligence level? - She’s not mage level but she is smarter-than-the-average-bear. Her mum accredited this to the fact she was always an avid reader (being a former schoolmarm there were plenty of books at home).

Do they have any specialist training? - Martial training in sword play, use of a shield, riding, fully literate, able to complete minor armor repair.

Do they have a natural talent for something? - Not really. She wishes.

Do they play a sport? Are they any good? - If swordsmanship is a sport they are pretty okay. I mean she still has all the parts she was pulled out of the dirt with. Actually she has extra!

What is their socioeconomic status? - Soldier. I guess that rates to like a low middle class?

Favourites

What is their favourite animal? - Goats!

Which animal to they dislike the most? - Slimes…

What place would they most like to visit? - She’s crossed a lot of places off her list on assignment but recently she’s seen a race of…bear….? People? (Pandaren) She’s curious where they come from.

What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? - The ocean at sunset.

What is their favourite song? - As much as she dislikes elves, their choirs left her awestruck. (A group did a morale tour once. She couldn’t tell you the name of any song. She doesn’t know elvish!) Not a lot of canon in-world music to pick from so... This would be playing a lot lately. https://youtu.be/m3lF2qEA2cw

Music, art, reading preferred? - Since metal bands exist in Azeroth I am going to say Big Band/swing orchestras do too. Whatever equates to the romanticism period of art in Azeroth. And she loves to read action adventure. Some romance every now and then. Bonus if both!

What is their favourite colour? Dark green, purple a close 2nd

What is their password? - I guess in a modern AU her pass would be something like LordaeronRefuge26

Favourite food: In life it was cottage pie. Hasn’t had one since she was Raised and hasn’t made anything particularly amazing in her cooking experiments.

What is their favourite work of art? - She doesn’t get the opportunity to admire a lot of fine art but she’s reading an adventure series about a bounty hunter witch that comes up against extreme obstacles and is struggling with self acceptance and the ways of the world. She obviously identifies pretty strongly.

Who is their favourite artist? - Probably whatever the most popular orchestra group is.

What is their favourite day of the week? - She’s been ‘up’ about 5 months now so she’s still in the ‘happy to be living’ phase. Also given her occupation there’s no set work week?

Possessions

What is in their fridge: N/A!  But she would probably stock one with random ingredients and soft drinks. She likes feeling the fizz.

What is on their bedside table? - Candle. Books. Maybe an empty bottle or two.

What is in their car? - In the saddle bags: Scroll case with lots of parchment/stationary. 2 stoppered Ink wells. 2 fountain pens. A few coal sticks (’pencils’). A bottle of patchouli oil. Flint and steel. 3 Candles. Soap. A torch. Coil of hempen rope. 2 changes of smalls bundled in a towel. A pair of socks. Whatever book she’s working through. Two wineskins of water.

What is in their bin? - Lots of aborted letters and would be recipes.

What is in their purse or wallet? - Her coin purse holds only coins. She would forget about anything else she stored there and if she was hit by a cut-purse she wouldn’t want to lose something else.

What is in their pockets? - We’re going to go with like, belt pockets instead of Bags. She’s got money, a handkerchief, a ring, a small, carved skull roughly the size of a ‘worry stone’, pocket knife, herbs if she’s spotted interesting ones. There’s an old worn invitation to a blood elf’s party she’s kept because it was the first friendly thing extended to her at Silvermoon (and helps her fight her prejudice).

What is their most treasured possession? - The first gift Ertrig ever gave her was a ring. She isn’t able to wear it often because of her occupation/armor. But sometimes at night/when off duty she’ll take it out and put it on. She’ll experiment with how Rudiania Lasthollow rolls off her tongue.

Spirituality

Who or what is your character’s guardian angel? - He’s large, very quiet and wears captain’s bars.

Do they believe in the afterlife? - Ha…ha ha ha…HA HA HA HA.

What are their religious views? - She was never very devout about the light. She’s fairly practical in that most things happen because people made it so. That they can take steps to prevent the bad in their life/the world - she does!

What do they think heaven is? - In her opinion she has it. She’s gotten a second shot at living and someone special to spend the time with.

What do they think hell is? - Nothing. It’s nothingness. She was there.

Are they superstitious? - Yes. If she spills salt, she does the counter move. If she spots a stray black cat, she leaves it some food so it doesn’t will the bad energy onto her. For the best yield a crop should be sown north to south. Never number livestock with a 13. When she was a girl she broke her mothers hand mirror and you can bet her life was hell for a while. She believes in karma.

What would they like to be reincarnated as? - She’d be good with doing the human thing again.

How would they like to die? - She’s already had the honorable death in battle.  She tries not to think of True Death.

What is your character’s spirit animal? - Probably the little farm animal she loves, the goat. They are energetic, playful and awkward at times. They can also be stubborn and make use of their horns when necessary.

What is their zodiac sign? - She’s a Leo!

Values

What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? - We’ll go with what would probably be the worse thing that could happen to her which would be to have all of her loved ones tortured and killed in front of her while she can do nothing.

What is their view of ‘freedom’? - Being able to shape your own future to what you desire.

When did they last lie? - She told the High Executor over her unit that she owed Ertrig a favor and requested his last reported position.

What’s their view of lying? - Mixed. She feels there’s no good reason to seriously lie to anyone you are close to. Most lies just end up hurting people in one way or another including oneself.

When did they last make a promise? - She too readily uses the phrase “I promise” when she’s asked to be careful. I imagine she’s had the exchange with Annie plenty.

Did they keep or break their last promise? - Broken. She’s a little reckless going into a fight because of her higher tolerance of pain in undeath.

Daily life

What are their eating habits? - Forsaken don’t need food or get hunger pangs. However she’s kept a habit of dining roughly once a day - especially if she’s keeping company with the living. And she drinks a lot of water. She’s noticed differences in her physical condition from hydrating.

Do they have any allergies? - The Light.

Describe their home. - She doesn’t really live outside of a barracks long enough to have a proper home.  When she’s not in duty rotation at the Tranquillien HQ & they need bed space, she would most likely just set up a tent on the grounds.

Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder? - Cllllllutteeerrrrrrrrr.  Not trash just things she owns. She does her best to stow it away in a steam trunk when she’s away from barracks on assignment so her mess doesn’t get in others’ way.

What do they do first thing on a weekday morning? - She likes to go outside and watch the sky light up. She finds comfort in watching the world come back to life after a long night of trying to distract/occupy herself.

What do they do on a Sunday afternoon? - Could be curled up reading or out fishing - or maybe taking another turn at training her firebat pup. Keeping Ertrig company while he files reports. She has lots of options.

What do they do on a Friday night? - See previous. She doesn’t drink like she did in life. The Forsaken don’t seem to be very big on parties and the blood elves of silvermoon can be insufferable at times. If she’s in a new place on assignment she would spend time exploring until the locals made her uncomfortable.

What is the soft drink of choice? - Moonberry Fizz is her new addiction.

What is their alcoholic drink of choice? - It used to be dark rums.

Miscellaneous

What is their character archetype? - I feel the one she is closest to is The Innocent. The naming of it can be deceptive. But with all her struggles coping with her new state, she made the decision She Was Going To Be Happy. So many undead are understandably upset and depressed but she wasn’t going to waste her 2nd chance on being that way. She is definitely worried about making a miss-step as a Forsaken and she isn’t as suspicious of people as she probably should be - especially considering her job. She tries to see the good in others.

Who is their hero? - She’s rather idol-less at the moment. Coming to “the other side” has shown her uncomfortable truths about people and she’s in doubt about a number of things. Closest thing is probably Erttie? Before they were involved she respected him a great deal.

What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween? - A skeleton. She couldn’t NOT.

Are they comfortable with technology? - She likes learning so she embraces new things.

If they could save one person, who would it be? - The lazy answer is Ertrig but there’s so many people important to her. If we’re counting her entire circle… Rudi would most likely go to Annie’s aid because all the others in her life have extensive training and experience she would be praying paid off.

If they could call one person for help, who would it be? - Ertrig Lasthollow

What is their favourite proverb? - …Like from the bible? While superstitious she wasn’t particularly religious while alive, so no words from the light really speak to her.  As forsaken she’s getting curious about The Shadow the more she hears about it around her.

What is their greatest extravagance? - Their fanciest, smanciest possessions are probably her 2 fountain pens. And she shells out for scented oil.

What is their greatest regret? - Her family was sizable so every once in a while it hits her kind of hard that she’s not going to have one of her own now that she’s dead. She also regrets not speaking with her brothers more the last couple of nights before the attack on the Dark Portal.

What is their perception of redemption? - Mmmm… Rudi’s personal quest of ‘redemption’? Now that she is a Forsaken, she is doing her best to serve, support, and protect them in this unlife. She’s ashamed that she was one of the many living that turned their backs on their own people and mistreated the Forsaken.

What would they do if they won the lottery? - Land. House. Goats. Seed. Book shelves. BOOKS. Cheese making press. Can you imagine how long an Undead could age a batch of cheese and live to enjoy it?

What is their favourite fairytale? - Hard to find Azeroth fairy tails so we’ll go with real world. Grim’s Fairy Tales! - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Story_of_the_Youth_Who_Went_Forth_to_Learn_What_Fear_Was Makes her laugh.

What fairytale do they hate? - She dislikes tales similar to Cinderella. The ‘princess’ does little to shape her own life. Others basically did everything for her and she get’s this supposed happy ending. You only get things when you work for them.

Do they believe in happy endings? - It’s kind of what’s kept her going.

What is their idea of perfect happiness? - Curled up with Erttie, reading a book in the ambiance of a roaring fire in the home on a little farm.

What would they ask a fortune teller? - A MILLION THINGS because she has faith in that kind of thing - especially now? Hello? Living the Unlife?  How will the war go?  Will her unit survive?  Where are her brothers?  What happened to her parents?

If your character could travel through time, where would they go? - If she had one shot - she would go home to not long after she left and convince her parents to take a trip.

What sport do they excel at? - Uhhhhhh in life she was REALLY good at drinking games. That takes Constitution.  It counts right?

What sport do they suck at?  - Jousting and it was a big disappointment for her in life. The gear was so cumbersome she was easily dismounted. The knights look so majestic when they do it!

If they could have a superpower, what would they choose? - To Heal with a touch, without pain, to ALL people.

[rainsonata]

Again

Fandom/Pairing(s): Elsword; MMDE Rating: T Word Count: 3,024

Summary: Despite how much they changed over time, they were still the same person, right?  Mastermind is conflicted over the reappearance of Diabolic Esper. 

Author Note: Fic for @dezimaton!  Happy birthday!  I hope you celebrated that special day with lots of friends and thanks for everything!  Here are your gay sons.    

“You know how to play?” Arc asked when he caught Time sitting on the bench and tapping on the keys.  

He couldn’t blame Time.  It was a black upright piano with a gloss that made it shine when they moved it into their apartment shortly after purchasing it.  He was more surprised that Time bought it than with the musical instrument itself.  It was rare to see Time wanting to buy something since he didn’t own many things.  

“A little,” Time replied.  “You?”

Memories of listening to Mother play on a similar looking piano flooded back when he first laid his eyes on it.  Arc remembered sitting at the piano with Mother, who leaned over his shoulders to gently correct his fingers while learning to play a couple of simple songs to fill the halls of the quiet mansion.  He wondered if that was why Time bought it on impulse.     

“I practice as much as you do,” Arc jested.  He doubted that Time had much time to think about something as petty as playing an instrument when he always locked himself in his room mumbling equations to himself.  Not like there was time to pick up a hobby playing a musical instrument when it had been years since either of them came into contact with a piano.    

“You should play with me,” Time wasn’t discouraged by the other’s attitude.  “It’ll be fun!”

“It’s in your room.”

“You can drop by when you’re done with work!”

It was unusual to find Time so enthusiastic and cheery about something outside of his research.  He didn’t understand why, but that didn’t stop a smile from finding its way on his face.  

“Only if you provide the music sheets,” Arc said smiling.

Time laughed, “Like I always give you the blueprints for stuff?”

“And I help you with double checking things?” Arc pulled his arms over Time’s shoulders to reach for the keys to play a few notes.  The notes were off and jarring to the ear.  “We should get this tuned first.”

Time nodded and opened his mouth to say something, only for his voice to be cut off when he started coughing, pulling his head down and placed a hand over his throat with teary eyes.  He rushed over to the bathroom down the hallway to let out a choking noise.  Time clutched one hand over the sink for support and stayed there for a few minutes.  His shoulders shook when Arc touched his forehead to check his temperature.  

“Did you remember to take the potion Echo gave you?” Arc asked with concern.

Time numbly nodded, unable to say much with heavy breathes.  He said in a raspy voice, “It’ll go away soon.  It always does.”  His laugh was forced, lips spread out too wide to be genuine.  The time traveler gripped the glass cylinder too tightly, enough to see his veins sticking out through his pale skin.

“Echo told me someone else went through the same thing, but the medicine she gave me isn’t working any more. I guess the guy before me never progressed far enough for her to consider this.” Time ripped out his eyepatch to reveal his left eye with pitch black sclera.  He grinned, but Arc failed to smile back.

“It’s a bad idea to wait,” Time mumbled.  “It’s not getting better.”

Time placed his hand on Arc’s shoulder and lifted his chin up to force the researcher to look at him in an attempt to cheer the other up, but it doesn’t.  After weeks of seeing Time’s condition worsen, Arc was quick to spot the symptoms of black starting to taint the edges of Time’s other eye.  He wanted to ask Time if Echo told him the outcome of the last person that had the same condition, but something told him that it wasn’t a happy ending.       

“Are you leaving?” Arc asked without thinking.  He flinched at his poor choice in words, but Time was unphased.  Too used to Arc’s bluntness, Time remained composed and continued.    

“To be honest, I thought you would run away the first time I showed this to you.”  He pointed to the black sclera, “I guess that’s one of the many things I got wrong.”

Time covered his mouth, but a dark laugh slipped from his lips.  Although the time traveler didn’t say it, Arc heard disappointment in the other’s tone.  What about his feelings?  Did Time know how much it hurt to see him like this?  

“Get some rest,” Arc wanted to stir the other away from the topic.  Yeah, Time wasn’t getting any better, but that wasn’t a reality he wanted to face.  Not today.  He pressed his hand against Time’s back, “I’m sure you’ll feel better tomorrow morning.  Maybe we can find a song from the library to try out.”  

“Yeah,” he felt Time’s eyes fall on him again.  “That sounds great.”

He didn’t want to point out that Time never answered his question, but at the same time, he was almost grateful that the time traveler didn’t.  Time didn’t say anything, but Arc felt like he already knew what the answer would be.         

It was hard to enter this room.  Arc, no, Mastermind used to come in and vacuum the carpeted floor and sometimes rearrange the pens at the desk to see if their owner would notice.  It should have been like any other time the owner disappeared for trips to gods know where.  Days has flown by since the other left, so he couldn’t stop but wonder if there was a purpose in repeating this routine when he hasn’t heard a word from Time.

When he went to check the desk, there was a thick layer of dust glazed over the wood.  He drew a line with one gloved finger and sneezed.  How long has it been since he cleaned the room?  Judging from all the dust, it had to be several weeks at least.  Maybe a few months?

Given that its former occupant has not been home for some time, there wasn’t much to clean, but that didn’t make the job any easier.  He found himself twiddling with Time’s pencils again, all of the mechanical pencils and had cute designs with white bunnies and cats as caps.  Aside from the dust and dirt, it was like Time never left.  Even some of his clothes were left behind in his in closet.  Not that Time owned a lot of attire to begin with, but it was something that saddened Mastermind when he was reminded of times past.  Without Time sprawling over his bed with scattered pages and pencils around him, the room felt soulless.  

It won’t take long, Time promised back then.  I’ll be back soon.  Traveling far enough into the past to find a way to stop it, he argued.        

Mastermind closed his eyes tight in response to the memory, his breath grew faint as he placed his hand on his forehead.  What was Time thinking?  Time traveling was what caused the toxins to appear in his blood.  He should have been more stubborn and stopped his counterpart from leaving.  Was he a fool to believe that Time would come back?      

Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye when he finished cleaning the desk to move onto another part of the room.  Sitting in the corner of the room, next to the closet on the opposite side of the bed was the upright piano.  Its age really showed when Mastermind walked over to see that dust had reached in between the joints and even on the seat cushion.  He opened the fallboard and removed the velvet like cloth from the keyboard.  Dust accumulated in between the black and white keys, some of it smudged on his hands when he tapped on a few keys.  He started to play a few chords when there was a loud crash from the front porch.    

Mastermind abruptly stood up and ran over to the window to lean over to see what it was.  Lying in front of the house was a tall man in a black armored suit with white hair flopped over his face.  Black tar oozed around the man when Mastermind approached him with caution.  Flipping the stranger over to reveal that his stomach was the source of the black tar, the researcher stared at the familiar face, with eyes like the night.    

“Time?” Mastermind voice cracked.

“I found you,” his voice croaked and he reached out to him.             

It was like having a stranger in the house.  Time’s room remained to cleaned, so the time traveler occupied the couch in the living room.  Even though he was there, his presence unnerved Mastermind.  He was too quiet, didn’t say much except for a few words when needed.    

“What happened?” Mastermind asked.  

“I failed again,” he said.  “In the end, I couldn’t go back to the right time.”

He turned away when Mastermind tried to talk to him, refusing to show his face and covered his mouth with the blanket from his lap.  His eyes no longer had black sclera and Mastermind had helped him change his clothes into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.  On the coffee table in front of him sat a tray of food, much of it untouched.  He finished the grapes set aside in a small bowl, and nibbled on a biscuit with care, but the soup was going to get cold if he didn’t eat it.

“Time...” Mastermind touched his shoulder, but was pushed aside when he tried to comfort the other.     

“Don’t call me that.  No one calls me that any more,” his voice was flat, not too different from Time when he was losing patience when asked about a simple concept.  A tinge of black flashed on his eyes, but it was so brief that Mastermind thought he imagined it.  “It’s Esper.”

Esper.  The name felt foreign on his tongue when Mastermind repeated it to himself under his breath.  It didn’t sound remotely like Time at all, but what was he expecting when he also changed his title to Mastermind not too long ago?  He couldn’t be calling Esper out on something as petty as that.  He bit his lip down, but he saw his counterpart’s eyes widen in response to the visible hurt on his face.  

Esper moved his lips, but no words formed.  He threw Mastermind a blank expression, but his eyes didn’t match, wavering between emotions that made it hard to read what was on his mind.  Under his shirt was his stomach wrapped in bandages that had to be changed every few hours along with medication.  He stared longer than usual whenever the medicine was within his view.  Mastermind couldn’t help but wonder if Esper still had to take the potions Echo used to prescribe to him as a tracer.  

Esper broke the silence with a quiet sigh with an attempt to change the subject.  “You look different,” he stared at his counterpart, eyes scanning over to see the vest and the hooded jacket Mastermind had on.    

“You look different too,” Mastermind said.  

“I know,” he thought he heard regret in Esper’s voice.  “I’m sorry.”  

Despite being months apart, it was surreal to believe that Esper was here.   He wasn’t sure what to tell the time traveler.  Welcome back?  I miss you?  All of those phrases sounded generic and pathetic in his mind.  He was never good at words, at least when talking about his emotions.  Neither of them were, it seemed, because Esper had yet to say anything that suggested that they once knew each other aside from his last statement.  

The sound of static buzzed from below and pulled Mastermind’s attention away when he felt something nudge against his leg.  Looking down to see what it was, Apocalypse approached him with a soft meow and came up to rub its head under his hand.  Mastermind patted it on the head before scratching behind the ears and saw that the cat cube was running low on battery because its meows were quiet.   

“Apocalypse?” Esper asked.  

“Yeah,” Mastermind smiled when the cat cube purred.      

“Huh…the other Mastermind had one too,” Esper mused.

“The other?” Mastermind echoed.

Esper’s cheeks turned pink with embarrassment (If his blood was a mix of black tart, how did that work?  Mastermind wondered.), looked down at his lap and twiddled his thumbs.  

“I ran into others like us,” Esper admitted.  “They act like us, and yet they’re not exactly us.  Their personalities are sometimes different and even their fighting styles are different.”

“So...there’s another Esper too?” He tried to imagine two Espers, but all he could see were them crawling out of a portal and cackling something about time and equations.  

“...what’s going through your mind?” Esper gave him a funny look.  “Are you thinking of something weird again?”

Mastermind coughed to cover his nervous laugh, a part of him tempted to humor his counterpart.  He was going to have a hard time mentally shaking that image off.  But Esper made it sound like he had met multiple versions of themselves, which was a definite possibility with his abilities.         

“How do I know you’re my Esper?” He took Esper by the hand and rubbed his thumbs over the other’s palm for a reaction.  If Time was pale, then Esper was stark white.  His skin was almost transparent, in which Mastermind could see his veins running through when pressing his fingers over his hands.    

Esper frowned at his question, but didn’t pull himself away from his touch and whispered, “I’m still me.”

Mastermind buried his face and ran his hands through his hair, gripping the roots and twisting the strands into knots before undoing them with a soft sigh.  Why was he so bad at talking to people?  He found himself sitting on the floor of Time’s room again.  The researcher closed his eyes tight and rested his head against the wall behind him.  He wasn’t ready to go back outside to find Esper and explain himself.  It wasn’t fair to throw a hard question at the time traveler when he was still in the middle of recovery.  But still, although he was aware of alternative universes thanks to Time, he never questioned the possibilities until Esper brought it up.  Would it matter if this was his Esper since they were all the same person anyway?

The room was warm when he opened his eyes again.  In front of him was the damn piano again.  For all the dust it gathered, it still looked beautiful under the sun’s glow peeking through the windows.  It was like it was mocking him as a reminder that he and Time never progressed far enough to play a full song.    

No longer caring about how dirty it was, Mastermind stood up to take a seat on the dusty chair and placed his hands over the keyboard, careful not to breathe in too much dust.  No longer accustomed to the pressure of the keys, Mastermind felt awkward when he pressed on them.  He jolted in his seat a little when the notes came out louder than what he was used to.  He tried again, but with less pressure to the keys.  The researcher tried a couple of scales and ran his fingers across the keyboard.  His fingers felt stiff from months of neglecting practice.      

Mastermind then took his index fingers and played a couple of notes on the far sides of the keyboard.  He played a couple of chords when a finger pressed on the wrong key, the sound clashed against his ears and made him cringe.    

He pressed his foot on the soft petal as he raced through the keyboard with exhilaration.  Although there was no audience, his heart soared as he played, caught up in the music and for a moment forgot about everything.  It felt like nothing else existed except himself and the piano.  It almost felt like Time was beside him like when they were tracers, fiddling around with the piano and figuring out how to play a new piece.  He came to an abrupt stop when he heard Esper’s voice.

“You know how to play?”      

“A little,” Mastermind turned to face him.  “You?”

“I practice as much as you do.” Esper wiped through a thick layer of dust on the piano and rubbed his fingers.  The time traveler scanned the room to see a dusty bed and furniture before teasing, “A messy room?  How unlike you.”     

Mastermind felt his face turn warm and uttered, “I was in the middle of cleaning it!”

He fought every ounce of control in himself to stop from wanting to smack Esper when the other giggled.  The time traveler laughed so hard that his sclera flashed black for a few moments before he forced it back to white.  When did Esper learn to do that?  Esper sealed his lips tight, but his lips were spread too wide to fool anyone that he wasn’t laughing.      

“Want to give it a try?” Mastermind asked when he noticed that Esper was still looking at the piano.  

“I don’t remember much,” he mumbled after calming himself down.  

“I don’t either.” Mastermind moved to the side of the bench to make room and gestured to the other to join him. “Let’s learn together.”

Esper’s eyes widened at the invitation and pointed at himself.  Me?  He awkwardly walked to join Mastermind at the bench, careful not to sit too close and gripped the bench with his left hand.  His attention moved over to the music sheets on the stand and back to Mastermind.  

Seeing Esper’s confusion at the mess of music notes, Mastermind gently placed his hands over Esper’s.  Still the same, Mastermind didn’t miss the blush appearing on Esper’s cheeks and smiled.