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istanleyff7 · 4 years ago

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TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 28-35

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 28-35 A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter) Scene 28

Aerith intended to find a job on her own, but Elmyra had already promptly sorted it out. It was to help the teachers at the Sector 5 House. Even though it was a job, she didn't feel that she was working because she spent most of her time playing with the children. She wanted to know about the world that she hasn't experienced. Yoko, who was older than her, had already left the house. She rented a house with a group of friends and made jewellery, which she sold in markets around Midgar. Jean and X collected machine parts from the scrapyard, polished them and sold them to people who needed them. Elmyra frowned when she told her this and ordered that she must never leave Sector 5 no matter what.

"You said that if you restrained me, you'd be the same as Shinra. Have you forgotten?"

"I can’t believe you said that kind of stuff to your mother."

Elmyra looked very tired. Her work probably took a toll on her. If she had continued her "business" with Carlo and the others, she would not have had to work this hard. No matter how Aerith thought about it, she felt Elmyra let go of the business because of her. They were not a real parent and child, and she didn't have to care for her in the first place. Aerith wondered if she really had those inner thoughts, and she sure did. Was the given circumstances the reason why she tried to hold herself back with unnecessary words? Now, she was retaliating as a way to get back at Elmyra for tying her down.

Scene 29

"That's really sick."

"Yup, I admit it. My rebellious phase made things worse. I didn't have things to pour my heart and soul into, unlike you, Tifa."

"I really recommend exercising."

"Yeah, I’ll do that eventually."

"Yeah right… I’m sure.... You’ll do that eventually…."

"So, even though all these happened, I continued to help out at the house. The kids were so cute. They loved me. By the time I was fourteen, I didn't have much to complain about. But..."

Scene 30

After finishing work at the Sector 5 House, Aerith headed down the alley back home and saw people within the Gainsborough property standing by the entrance, unintentionally blocking it. There were two men and two women, and they seemed to be looking at the garden and the house. She recognised one of the men. His long, beautiful golden hair had not changed.

"Rodin!" Aerith called out to him instinctively.

The face she saw when he looked back was unmistakably Rodin's.

"Yo, Aerith!" Rodin called back to her cheerfully, but for some reason, still looking about his surroundings.

"You've grown taller, haven't you? How long has it been?"

"It's been two years? Maybe slightly more than that?"

"Ahhh, yeah around that long."

She also looked at the other three to see if she knew them.

"Cheers."

Their eyes met. The young man with a large body and a boy's face raised his hand bashfully.

"Eh? Is that you, Marcellus?"

"Ah, you recognise me?"

"Of course."

Although Aerith replied that, she did not think that he was the same as back then. His physique became like his father's.

"I brought Marcellus here because, for some reason, he insisted on seeing you, Aerith."

Rodin took a step back, seeming like he made an excuse. There was a sense of discomfort. Marcellus darted his eyes from place to place and Aerith could sense his nervousness. He scratched his cheeks two or three times and started to speak in an awkward manner.

"Aerith. Firstly, I want to apologise for calling you a thief. Please forgive me. I was really a stupid kid. I hated anything and everything about the world at that time. I didn't even control myself."

"I had already forgiven you. I'm glad you seem to be doing fine."

Marcellus's face lit up.

"Yea, I've been doing fine, thanks to you. Some thugs were chasing after me, then I ran away before a monster attacked me, and I was dying. Then I had a dream that you came to save me. For the longest time, I thought that it was a dream. Even if you were close by to me, you had no reason to save me, and you definitely couldn't be close by. But I had heard it from Carlo the other day that you knew where I was. Carlo didn't believe your reason. That's why he didn't tell anyone about it for a long time."

Aerith gave a faint smile, thinking that it was best not to deny or confirm anything. Damn you, Carlo.

"So I did a lot of research, and I've been wondering if it was the influence of the Lifestream. It's the flow of Spirit Energy. Do you know about it?"

"Nope."

She pretended not to know anything.

"Mako Energy sucks away the Lifestream..."

"Marcellus!" the young lady had been quiet the whole time, rebuked at him. "You're not allowed to talk badly about Mako Energy. I'll tell Papa if you do."

She then looked over at Aerith—

"My brother can talk about this for a super long time. Hey, have you been well?"

It was Rona.

"Yup. It looks like you're doing well too, Rona. How's Mr Meguro?"

"I can't say he's fine, but he's doing better now than when we left the slums. The air is better on the plate. You see, it's polluted and cloudy here, isn't it? I didn't know that until we left."

Rona was the same as before. She hurts people without meaning to.

"What's Carlo doing now?"

"He's working hard and is managing the business well. But I do wonder how he was during The Sector 5 Clash..."

"The Sector 5.... Clash?"

"You don't know about it?" Rona was shocked. "After Papa retired and Carlo became head of the household, the Corneo's, and some other ambitious, unknown people, came into Sector 5. Carlo and the others tried to get rid of them, and there was a bloody clash. Marvin, Roger and Bowman died, unfortunately."

"Eh...."

Aerith wondered how she could not have known about that.

"Well, things have already settled down, so there isn't an issue. And everyone has settled down where they should be," Rodin said, looking around again.

"Well then, Marcellus, Rona, are you both done? You both still can send letters in the future."

"Elmyra will be back soon. Do you all want tea?"

"I'm afraid we can't have tea either. We're actually not allowed in the Special District."

"Special District?"

"It spans from the station until here," Marcellus said. "It was established by Shinra around the time the Clash began. We weren't allowed to fight in the Special District. Anyone who breaks this rule would be executed. It was the only rule that everyone obeyed."

"I wonder what made this district special."

"Eh? Of course, it's because you're here, Aerith!" Rona could not hide her shock as she said it out loud.

"Okay! That's enough!" Rodin panicked.

"You both talked too much. Well then, let's go." Rodin urged them.

Marcellus hurriedly tried to arrange another meeting with Aerith. It seemed that he wanted to talk about the "mysterious incident". Aerith gave him a faint nod and dodged his attempt to do so. Rona invited her to come up to the plate to play, and Aerith replied that she would ask Elmyra. The four of them began leaving the alley. But Rodin turns around and points to a woman beside him. She was the one who was not introduced until the end.

"This woman is Amber, and we'll be getting married soon. Would you please pass the news to Elmyra? It's unfortunate that I couldn’t introduce Amber to her."

Amber looked at Aerith with an angry look on her face.

↞↠

When Aerith got home, she looked at a stand, which had a vase placed on it. There used to be a television on that stand. She wondered when the television disappeared from the house.

"Ah..."

She remembered. It was a month after Elmyra severed ties with Carlo and the household. While Elmyra was cleaning the stand, the television fell over, and it broke. There was no television in the house after that. Aerith wondered if it was a coincidence or was it just to keep unnecessary information out of the house.

Elmyra returned home late at night, and Aerith talked to Elmyra about Rodin and the others.

"Oh my, it's been a while, hasn't it? Are they alright?"

However, Aerith could tell on Elmyra's face that she was on guard.

"Hey, Mum. Do you know about the Sector 5 Clash? And about the Special District too?"

"What have you heard? We are living in a different world from those guys. It's better if you don’t worry about every little detail."

It seems that she would leave things in the dark again.

"The Special District is right here, isn't it? It's because I'm here. That's why Mum, you wouldn't let me go far away. That's the promise you made to Shinra. A promise to shut me in the Special District."

Elmyra shut her eyes and shook her head.

"That's not it. But let's stop talking about this now. I'm tired, and whew, work was rough. The water tank in the café had broken down."

"Why don't you quit your job if it’s that tough? If you want money, why don't you get it from Shinra? You've been living on their money all your life. Nothing would change, wouldn’t it?"

Aerith knew she should not have said that, but she did. She could not see the look on Elmyra's face, and she then heard footsteps. Elmyra went up to the second floor and went into her own room.

Scene 31

"At that point, I thought that would be the end of my time in the house."

"But it had a happy ending, didn't it? I mean, you both went back on good terms."

Scene 32

Aerith thought that she could not stay in the house any longer and she was filled with emotions. Aerith firstly went back to her room, pulled out a suitcase she had never used from under the bed and stuffed a few sets of clothes, along with a few valuables, into it. Lastly, she put all the money she had earned from the Sector 5 House into her pocket and left the house. She walked down a familiar alleyway into a brightly lit street. A familiar face called out to her.

"Hey, Aerith. Are you going out at this hour?"

"I'm heading towards Sector 6."

She instinctively told a lie.

"Wait, what, no!"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to the Wall Market."

"Be careful, okay? Elmyra will cry if that happens."

As she walked along the street, she remembered her adventure with Ifalna.

『I wonder which direction is Sector 3 in?』

『Which direction is Sector 3 in?』

『I've heard that there's a church in the Sector 5 Slums. In the past, people gathered here and prayed to God, but nobody comes here anymore. I've been thinking that we should hide there a little...』

Aerith's steps became lighter. She still really liked this idea that Ifalna brought up in the middle of that adventure. The church should be far and beyond the station, outside the 'Special District'. It was the perfect place for Aerith's mood. The depressing feeling she had when she left home unbelievably cleared away.

『Never forget that feeling, okay?』

『The feeling that you’ll enjoy anything.』

The memories of Ifalna came flooding back one by one.

Scene 33

"When you fight with a parent, adrenaline builds up in you, doesn't it?" Tifa uttered and seemed to be reminded of something.

"Yeah. That's why I couldn't stop and think about it."

"Yup. I understand."

"I've regrettably hurt people."

Tifa swallowed her breath after hearing Aerith's confession.

Scene 34

A train just pulled in at the platform of the station. That was probably the last train from the plate. Aerith glanced at it sideways and went ahead to try walking past it. This place was where she left her birth mother, and because of that, she still could not look at it directly. She felt as though the scene was still there. Suddenly, thoughts that she would be making a wrong move flashed through Aerith's mind. Was she about to make a grave mistake? The adrenaline she had felt earlier had unbelievably disappeared. The "Special District" was to protect her. Once she crosses the station, she would no longer have the protection. She stood rock still, as though there was an invisible wall ahead of her. Only the surrounding areas of the station were lit up. If she went forth, the road ahead would be dark. She could not see the future.

"Aerith?" a deep voice called out to her.

She turned around to see a large man standing with his back to the station. He had big eyes, a big nose and a big mouth.

"Ahhh!"

"You've totally grown up, haven't you? You look like your mother."

It was Fuzz, and he was wearing the same white coat as that day.

"You've got the wrong person," Aerith lied at the spur of the moment.

Trying to get away from him, she turned her back towards the station and darted towards the darkness. She noticed that Fuzz was following her. She could not stop.

"Aerith, wait up. It's not what you're thinking."

Aerith wondered what other reasons could he try to stop her. She felt that she should not believe him and stop for him. He must have been angry and detest us. She wondered what would happen if he caught her. Aerith no longer knew where she was headed to. She was running along a narrow road, and the surroundings were a mountain of trash. By any chance...

"Jean! X!"

There was no response. Even if this were their scrapyard, they wouldn't be there at this hour. But she could not help calling out to them.

"Ahh!"

Aerith stumbled into something big and soft and fell. The suitcase she held dropped to the ground with a thud, signalling that it broke.

"Ouch..."

She did not know what was in the middle of the road at first, but it was the carcass of a dead monster. There was an unidentifiable sound coming out from it. It died not long ago. Its bodily fluids reached Aerith's feet and hands, and she felt a stinging sensation.

"You don't have to worry. That's harmless."

It was Fuzz. She looked up at him on her bottom. He was as big as she remembered him when she was seven. She noticed that the hem of her skirt was very crumpled, and she hurriedly fixed it. She looked for an opportunity to stand up and back away.

"Aerith, how could you do this to me? I've been worrying about you since then. Ever since you ran away from Shinra, I've been wondering if you've been living in terrible conditions. I heard about this from Amber, whom you met today."

"Amber!?"

Amber. Aerith met her in the evening, and she was introduced as Rodin's lover, and they were to be married. She had an angry face. Aerith then connected Amber to Fuzz.

"Looks like you don't remember her. She was the friend who unloaded you both from the cargo train at the Sector 4 Slums Station."

"Ahh!"

So Amber was the grumpy-looking woman in the dirty work clothes that day.

"I heard from her about where you were, and I hurriedly came over to find you. But what a close call. We almost didn't cross paths. I'm sure it was Ifalna who brought us together."

Aerith slowly stood up. Fuzz took two steps back, perhaps to assure her that he was not a threat.

"Are you going to church, by any chance?"

"What?"

"I've talked to Ifalna about it before. She seemed to be very interested in it. When I told her I'd take her there someday, she said she definitely did not want to go. After you both disappeared, I went to look for both of you several times at the church, just in case you were both there. I prayed, but in the end, it seemed to me that there was no God."

A roar of a beast could be heard somewhere.

"That's from a monster. Here's the danger zone, especially at night. Shall we go to the church? Since we came all the way here anyway. It's not too far off from here, and it's nearer than the station."

It seemed that Aerith ran away further than she thought.

"But..."

"I see. Are you more afraid of me than the monster?"

She nodded honestly. He should already know how she was behaving towards him, and there was no point in pretending.

"Well, I'll just walk ahead then, and you can keep a distance and follow me. If a monster comes up behind you, run away on your own. We can’t expect the vigilante corps to be here at this hour. And I must warn you, don't expect me to put up a good fight too. Just because I'm huge doesn't mean I'm strong."

With a thin smile, Fuzz walked away. His big white back disappeared into the darkness. Fuzz was right. She did not dare to go back alone on the monster-infested road. Just because they didn't appear on the way here doesn't mean they won't appear on the way back.

"Watch out!" Fuzz's voice came from a long way in front. "The monster is dead, but it's still fresh. Don't step on it."

↞↠

The "soon" was somewhat a lie, wasn't it? They had walked so far that she was doubtful of Fuzz, and after passing the carcass of the third monster, which was still fresh, they finally came to the front of the church.

"I wonder who brought them down?" Fuzz wondered as he walked up the stone steps and approached the door of the church. It was a big door. The style of the building was unlike anything Aerith had ever seen before. She could not see the entire structure even if she was looking up. She wondered what it would look like in daylight. The door opened with a squeak. Fuzz beckoned to her, and he went in. Aerith then went up the stone steps. A light, sweet scent wafted over from the church. It was a smell that Aerith knew. The inside was pitch black, but the floor at the back was slightly white.

"Look, the flowers bloom here. Regardless of whether there is a God or not, this is a special place," Fuzz said.

Aerith thought the same. Flowers bloom in special places. The same scent from the Gainsborough garden surrounded her, and she was soon faced with feelings of regret. She wondered what Elmyra was doing—wondering if she was looking for her daughter, who ran away from home. She wondered if she was going in the direction of Wall Market, taking the word of her acquaintance and believing him blindly.

"You can sleep on the bench near the flowers. I'll be near the exit.

"Thank you."

Aerith was not sleepy at all, but she did as he suggested and sat down on a bench near the flowers. She let out a big, quiet breath and felt every stiffness in the muscles of her body relax. She must have been tenser than she had realised. She felt like she was about to really fall asleep. She had to think of something. She wondered what would have happened if she had come to this church that day with her mother, Ifalna. What if the adventure had continued until the end? What would she have worked as? With little knowledge about the world, what would she have done? Would they have been able to live together on good terms? No matter how close they were, would they have disagreements? Since they were a real parent and child, would no problems arise?

"Aerith."

A voice came from a distance.

"Yes?”

"The house at Sector 3, it's still there. I've continued paying the rent since then."

"I see."

"Would you like to live together?"

She wondered what he just said to her. What did he mean?

"You'd like me to live together with you?"

There was no response.

"Fuzz?"

As she stood up fearfully, she saw that Fuzz was right next to her.

"Yeah. Let's live together, ‘I..fal...na…’"

Fuzz smiled. The pupil in his eyes seemed like it was not looking anywhere. A big hand reached out slowly towards her.

"Come here."

He was going to grab her! Aerith tried to take the suitcase and run. However, he caught her by the arm.

"Let go of me!"

She slammed the suitcase into Fuzz's face as hard as she could. Fuzz flinched. The handle broke, the suitcase came off and flew off somewhere.

"You're heartless, Aerith."

She did not care and ran away. Weaving her way between the benches, she ran for the door. Fuzz jumped over the benches and gave chase.

"Wait!"

There was no way she was waiting. The door was already nearby. She had to exit and run away. And what should she do after escaping? Fuzz knows where she stays. Amber, without a doubt, told him about Elmyra's house. Even if she ran away now, Fuzz would show up eventually. What should she do? Would she always have to live in fear? As long as Fuzz was around...

And Aerith eventually darted out of the door.

"Eh?"

Elmyra was there in front of her, dressed in her usual clothes as though nothing was wrong. Her face changed from surprised to relieved, and her facial expression changed a few more times. Finally, she turned serious.

"Aerith, move aside."

"Huh?" Fuzz sluggishly came out of the building, "Who’s out there?"

Elmyra hammered his throat with her weapon with all of her might. Fuzz let out a shriek of pain, collapsed and laid down motionlessly. Aerith was shocked to see what weapon Elmyra was using. It was a broom, and it seems that she had brought it here.

"Shall we go home?"

"Okay."

"You didn't leave anything behind?"

"Ah..."

She forgot her suitcase. There was something important inside of it.

"Quickly go get it."

"Okay."

She went back into the darkness of the church and went over to the flowers. She looked around and immediately saw a suitcase. The lid was open, and its contents were scattered outside. She gathered up the scattered clothes and put them back in the case, but she could not find her "treasure"—the pouch containing the materia.

"What are you doing?" Elmyra called out to Aerith, her voice audibly contained irritation.

"I can't find that materia."

Elmyra mumbled in annoyance and crouched down to join Aerith in finding it.

"It's in a little pouch made out of cloth."

"I know."

It's true. Elmyra knows everything about her.

"But, how did you know I was here?" Aerith asked while searching for the pouch.

"That's what I'd like to know too."

"Eh?"

"I knew that you ran away, and I soon went out of the house too. I thought about where you'd have gone as I ran. And then, while I was in the garden, I knew that you would have gone to the church on the outskirts of the slums."

"Why?"

"It just somehow came to my mind. Ever since you came to the house, I've had several strange experiences. I thought that it was this sort of experience again. So I went back home again and did some preparations before coming over."

"And what you prepared was a broom?"

"I wasn't exactly calm, you know. But it was useful, wasn't it? Look, Aerith, over there."

Elmyra pointed towards the densely grown flowers. In the middle laid the pouch that they were searching for. She parted the flowers away to not step on them, picked up the pouch and looked inside. The materia seemed to be glowing brighter than usual.

Aerith turned around to look at Elmyra and was about to ask her shall they go back.

Elmyra was seated on the bench, and she was praying. She had her hands clasped at her chest, and her eyes were closed. The sight of her took Aerith's breath away.

"I used to give thanks like this when I was a child," Elmyra said, opening her eyes as she stood up.

She seemed embarrassed by it.

"Is it different from a prayer?"

"It's different today."

"Who did you thank?”

"Whoever told me about this place. Well, let's head out of here."

Elmyra started to walk, and Aerith followed her behind.

"Mum."

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

"Aerith, you’ve been talking to me normally since just now, but I'm angry with you. When I get home, you will face the music and hear everything I want to say."

"Okay～"

Both of them were completely distracted.

Fuzz had regained consciousness and was hiding behind the door. Firstly, he kicked Elmyra and sent her flying.

"Mum!"

Fuzz tried to rush over to Elmyra and was drawing near her. She dodged his grasp, picked up the broom that she had dropped, turned around and struck the big man. However, the handle snapped right in half.

"Aerith! Come over here!" Elmyra called out to her.

Aerith ran towards her in panic. She saw Elmyra holding a gun with both hands and pointing it at Fuzz. That was the gun that Carlo had left behind. Fuzz stopped in his tracks and stared at the muzzle of the weapon.

"You take one more step, and I'll shoot you."

"Why don't you understand me!?" Fuzz yelled as he came towards them.

A shot rang. Elmyra had fired the gun. The dry sounds of gunshots echoed in the air. How many shots did she fire? Finally, they only heard the metallic click of the trigger.

"Ifalna..."

Fuzz approached them as if nothing had happened. His lab coat was terribly stained, but there was no sign that a bullet had hit him.

"I can't believe this gun didn’t do shit!" Elmyra swore and threw her gun at Fuzz, but it flew well over the big man's head.

"Mum, let's run already..."

A bang was heard, and it was a sharp sound that cut through the air. Aerith did not know what it was until she looked at Fuzz. He was holding his left shoulder with his right hand and moaning. His blood was running on his white coat as he had been shot in the shoulder. Who had shot him? From where? Aerith looked around, but there was no shooter in sight.

"Let's go," Elmyra uttered in an awfully calm manner.

Fuzz collapsed and was writhing in pain. Aerith was not fearful anymore. He just looked so pathetic now.

"I'm sorry."

"Aerith, let's hurry."

Without delay, Elmyra started walking, holding the broken broom with both her hands. At last, Aerith apologised to Fuzz once more. She then proceeded to hug her handleless suitcase and chased after Elmyra.

"Hey, Mum. I wonder who shot him."

"I'm guessing this, but the 'Special District' probably expanded."

Ah. That makes sense. As they walked on, Aerith looked around her surroundings, searching for a black suit. Just for tonight, she felt that she could give them her thanks.

Scene 35

"What happened to Fuzz after that?" Tifa asked with a concerned look on her face.

"I never saw him again. Though, till now, I still get nervous when I see someone big."

"I see."

Whenever Aerith thought about Fuzz, she would still have mixed feelings about him. She did not want to see him again. However, she also carried guilt. Fuzz became like that because of what Ifalna and her did to him. If she never pondered about this, these feelings of guilt would continue for a long time. She wondered if she would ever get the chance to atone.

"You can talk to me about everything, okay?" Tifa assured her.

Aerith was delighted by her compassion. She wanted to tell her more.

"Well then, next up is a big one!"

"You gotta be kidding me. There's something bigger than whatever you said?"

"For that, you're right. It's about my first love."

"Oh, that's definitely something big!"

―It sounded like someone walked into the cargo hold. Tifa seemed to notice it too. They put their index finger to their lips and looked at each other. The sound of footsteps was coming closer, coming from the other side of the cargo wall. Tifa moved noiselessly to the gap in the cargo. It looked like she was waiting for the owner of those footsteps.

The time passed slowly but surely, and the footsteps came to a stop.

"It's me."

It was the voice of Cloud Strife. Tifa's expression softened.

"I'll tell you next time. About the story of my first love," Aerith whispered to her.

Cloud walked in front of them and looked at both of them with a dubious look. He made a face as though he was investigating them, and he looked ridiculous. Aerith and Tifa burst into laughter, trying to keep their silence.

-fin- ↞↠ You’re on page 142/142 of Aerith’s segment of the Light Novel Word Count: 29322 The End. Thanks for the reading! Translator’s Note Previous Scenes: Scenes 22-27 Back to Content Page (click/tap here) Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 1 — Tifa (Coming Soon) Episode 2 ― Aerith Coda: The Investigation Unit Within the Painting follow @istanleyff7 on twitter for updates support the TOTP translation project financially here (click/tap here)

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luvlyrv · 4 years ago

Text

A Promise Under the Stars | Irene x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, idol au-ish but not really(?), romance is not extremely explicit

Summary: When you get to meet Joohyun again, you think back about a promise you two made long ago.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Whew. First Irene writing that I’m posting as a stand-alone rather than a part of a series. Also can I say thank you for two of my posts reaching 100 notes within the same week? My very first fic, ‘Second Place’ and ‘Troublemaker’ seem to be very popular, thank you so much fhksadjhfk,

Date: 2/19/21

You collapse on the ground, all your energy expended during several hours of practice. Lying down you can feel the wooden floor under you, your heart pounding as loud as your breathing. As much as you physically feel pain, there was a greater pain building in your heart and mind. Will you ever make it? You've been waiting so long now, how much longer?

With nobody around tears threaten to emerge from your eyes, but the moment is lost when you hear a soft creak. Quickly, you compose yourself just enough to make sure no tears fall. You don't bother turning your head to look at who it was, instead staring at the ceiling as you hear footsteps growing nearer and nearer to your body. Finally, a familiar face emerges from the corner of your eyes. The girl leans over your face, smiling at the sight of you exhausted and sweaty.

"I figured you'd be here." She says teasingly.

"When am I not?" You say as your breathing starts to become steady again.

The girl offers you her small hands and you accept. She helps you on your feet, and when you're finally standing up on your own she doesn't let one of your hands go.

"Wanna cool down with a walk?" She asks you. You lazily nod your head, following behind as your friend, Joohyun.

She takes you outside the building, continuing to walk hand in hand on the sidewalk. You don't know where you're going, but frankly you don't care. Joohyun's mere presence is enough for you to calm down, to feel comfortable and safe. So you take the time to enjoy the feeling of her hand in yours, the night air passing by your skin, and the sound of your footsteps against the pavement. The silence between the two of you making you feel happy.

Eventually the two of you reach a swing set. She let's go of your hand and sits on one, tilting her head to tell you to sit on the one next to her. You go ahead and sit down, gently kicking the ground to create a soft sway. Joohyun does the same with her two hands holding onto the chains holding up the seat. You stare at your feet until Joohyun speaks up again.

"Look up at the sky. It's beautiful, isn't it?" You listen to her command and turn your head up.

You're quite literally star-struck for a moment, a smile appearing on your face as you admire the sky. You've seen the sky and the stars nearly every day of your life. It's the same sky as always, yet somehow on this night it stir something inside you.

"Sometimes I forget how good it is to be living, I let all the beautiful things pass me by." You admit to your friend. You stop looking at the sky, instead turning to face Joohyun. Your eyes follow the outline her side profile as you admire the amazement glazing over her eyes, the curve of her nose, the way her lips pursed together. The nighttime casts her in darkness but the moon gives her an ethereal glow. She stops looking at the stars to give you a smile similar to yours, a smile filled with endearment.

"It's nice isn't it? I come here a lot, just to recollect myself most of the time. It's my space. One where I can exist without worry, without trying to change myself." She says it as she recalls the many nights where she wanted to cry, the nights where she found herself walking here without thinking about it. "I wanted to share it with you though. You seem more stressed recently..." Her soft voice suddenly became laced with worry. You sigh before you start talking again.

"I guess I'm getting bad at hiding it." You try to joke. "I've been training for so long, you know? I've seen so many people leave. So many switch companies, so many debut. Sometimes I wonder if the last several years have been a waste. I don't wanna grow up with this kind of regret." Joohyun looks down dejectedly for a bit at your response.

"I know." She whispers. "I've been feeling the same thing. Sometimes I doubt I even belong. I don't know if this dream is achievable anymore."

You look down, not quite sure what you could possibly say to comfort the both of you. As another wave of silence envelopes the conversation, you kick a nearby pebble, watching it skid as you begin to launch yourself off the ground harder. You feel weightless as you get higher and higher, a little free even, from this restrictive life you live.

Joohyun sticks to the ground, not enjoying the idea of being at such a high height. Still, she begins to smile at the sight of you having at least some sort of fun. Things continue like this, the both of you contemplating different things in the silence under the same worries.

"Hey Y/N." Joohyun breaks the silence by calling for you. You're still staring at the stars as you swing in the air.

"What?"

"Slow down for a minute." You listen to your friend and start to slow down your momentum. When you're finally settled, Joohyun leans over from her swing with her hand out. She has her pinky finger raised while you look at her in confusion. "How about we do it?"

"Do what?"

"Let's complete our dreams. Together." You chuckle a bit at her sudden childish-ness that was different from her mature nature. Despite how out of character it was though, you couldn't help but feel appreciative for the act anyways. You stick out your hand and wrap your pinky around hers.

"Alright. Our little promise, between just the two of us."

"I know I can do it if I have you by my side." A pink hue paints itself on Joohyun's cheeks, complimenting the adorable smirk she gave you. Your heart pounds a little and you laugh at her.

"Since when were you so childish and greasy?"

"I don't know, since whenever it could make you smile like that?" You look away, feeling warmth flood your face.

"Whatever." You scoff light-heartedly.

For the past several weeks you felt like you were in a rut. Motivation draining away from you. Your promise with Joohyun though, her words, her loving voice, everything about her made you want to stay. Perhaps now you can complete your dream.

You're waiting in line, a smile is plastered on your face that you can't seem to wipe off. Finally, you can see her again.

You can still remember the day she told you she would debut. There was a part of your heart that hurt, but otherwise you were ecstatic for her. Of course out of consideration she tried not to talk about it much, but you assured her it was something that was worth celebrating. That it was an event and feeling you wanted to share between the two of you.

Things didn't turn out as planned. You kept training, but seeing Joohyun debut with seemingly no results for another year was disheartening enough to make you quit. It also didn't help that as Joohyun got busier, the two of you got to talk and hang out less and less. Everyday you would compulsively check your phone, only to be gifted a response on a rare occasion.

After your trainee years you moved on in your life, getting a higher education and joining a career that you found pleasure in. As you focused on your career though, you also found yourself with less and less time. It seemed like at some point Joohyun changed her number and forgot to tell you. For some reason it left you feeling a bit heartbroken. Although she wasn't really a part of your life anymore your memories with her graced your thoughts often.

Now though, as time has passed, your work life has settled down more. You've earned some money and took some vacation time to attend a very, very important event.

The person in front of you finally moves and you're face to face with Yerim, a girl you spent a lot of time with under the same company. She looks up at you with a smile and a face filled with both surprise and recognition. She signs your album before gently nudging the member next to her.

You move on in the line to meet Seulgi. She's happy that Yerim caught her attention to tell her you were here. She gives you a familiar smile and thanks you for coming to see the group. You get your album signed by her and two other members who you didn't get acquainted with during training until you reach the end of the table.

There she was, Bae Joohyun, the person you were closest with during those grueling years training. As soon as you're standing in front of her your heart threatens to jump out of your throat. When your eyes meet you almost feel like crying.

"Hey." You barely get the word to leave your mouth. The sound could hardly escape the tightening of your throat. Judging by the look on her face, it seemed like Joohyun was overwhelmed with feelings too, nearly wanting to cry. Instead she gives a light laugh.

"I've missed you." She says. Maybe it's in your imagination, but she's staring at you so dreamily. You don't know what to say, so you decide to just be honest.

"I've missed you too. I've been waiting for this day." You pause for a second before continuing. "I'm sorry I didn't make it." Joohyun shakes her head at your apology.

"Don't be. As long as you're happy with where you are now then I'm happy too." She gives you her signature smile that had always managed to comfort you.

"Let's make a new promise." Once again she sticks out her pinky finger at you. You take it without hesitation. "Let's talk. Like old times." Even though you haven't talked to each other properly in years, the feeling of her pinky and yours made you feel just as close as you were back in those days.

The staff are ushering you to go, the moment the two of you were sharing was holding up the line for too long. Quickly, Joohyun signs your album and you notice that she opens it and scribbles something inside. Could she have possibly written a message for you?

When go arrive home you admire the album with signatures strewn across it. The question that you had for the entire day though was what Joohyun wrote inside of it. Within the privacy of your home you finally felt safe to open and check.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

let's stay together this time ♥

#bae joohyun #rv irene #irene x reader #red velvet imagines #red velvet x reader #gg imagines #gg scenarios #red velvet scenarios #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #bae juhyun #bae joohyun x reader #red velvet irene #red velvet kpop #red velvet

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 133

Whew. I finally get a chance two queue chapters and add to my buffer! Yayyy me! Kind of long author’s note, feel free to skip to the readmore.

Seriously, though, I managed to only work 5ish hours of OT this week instead of the 25/wk I’ve been clocking the last several weeks. It’s been a ride, for sure. Thank you for bearing with me through this frankly-insane time.

@baelpenrose and I have had more chances to write together in real-time, which considering both our schedules and living 3 timezones apart has been a delightful miracle and I will never take it for granted ever again.

@anotherusrname and @the-raven-fae have been very encouraging of my efforts to work less, which - it turns out - has been a huge concern for oh, my entire family... Sorry I worried you all. :( I’m trying to do better! Swear I have vacations coming up!

@charlylimph-blog has just been... such a support. She literally texts me every night at 10pm my time to tell me to take my most important medications. Sainted Eldritch Fae cannot be appreciated enough, and somehow I have two.

Final shout outs go to @snickerfritz, @just-a-pastel-bunny, and @eldritchmoths for love-bombing my inbox recently. Seeing anyone speed-run through this story lets me know that I’m not wasting my time.

Don’t forget to check out the podcast!! AhhhhH! I want to scream in delight each time a new episode is released!

Focus, I told myself, breath coming in short pants. It was easier said than done, with sweat dripping into my eyes while I constantly tried to pay attention to where I was safe to move to without putting myself in the line of fire. Seeing the incoming hit, I ducked and pivoted to my left -

“Oof,” I grunted as I took a blow to the ribs. I managed not to be winded or fall, but I was pretty sure something just broke.

A voice taunted me. “You have got to get better at keeping your guard up.”

“I am,” I panted. “My ribs are a lot tougher than my face.” Refusing to be distracted, I jumped back from the next hit and started circling wide.

“And I hit harder than your sister.”

Yeah, well broken ribs are for bitches, I thought to myself. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had a broken rib before. I was fine. Out of reflex more than forethought, I pivoted my leg and bent my knee to absorb the shock of the next hit - this one to the thigh. Grabbing the offending leg, I held tight around the calf with one arm before shoving upwards on the heel with the other, dropping him onto his back.

Unfortunately, the kick to the chin I got as a result also landed me on my back.

Like an exceedingly annoying ninja, Arthur sprang to his feet before holding out a hand to help me up off the floor. “You should have expected that.”

I scowled and rubbed my jaw. “Why am I sparring with you again?”

“Because Tyche’s busy and I’m the only other person willing to actually hit you hard enough to teach you anything.”

Rolling my neck, I tried to relieve some of the tension that was setting in. “It’s not like aliens are going to know Terran hand-to-hand combat,” I pointed out as I took my stance for the next round. This time, his movement was a lot more fluid, which told me he was going for grappling instead of striking.

The kick I almost took to the face told me that his stance was also a lie.

There wasn’t any time for trash-talking, this time around. I could barely find time to breathe as he aggressively attacked, although I barely managed to avoid him actually touching me. I wasn’t an idiot - if he got a hold of me, I would be waking up from a forced nap with a sore throat. However, after what felt like an eternity and was probably only about five minutes, the odds of keeping it up were dwindling. My heart was pounding in my ears, my lungs were searing with the effort of trying to keep up with it, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that I had enough stamina to outlast him. The man ran a 5k a day as a warm up. Even more humiliating, I had spent the entire time running and dodging without even a chance to mount a counter to any of it.

Finally, I was spent. Every time I tried to raise my hands, they shook so badly that there was no chance of landing a hit, even if I had the opportunity. My legs were trembling, my knees burned, and the broken rib felt like someone was twisting a hot blade into my side. Feeling defeated, I dropped my hands and squared my feet up. The blow to the solar plexus was unsurprising, as was the chokehold he put me in as soon as I doubled over. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time this had happened while sparring with him - or even with Tyche.

I was so frustrated. No matter how much I sparred with either of them, I felt like I hadn’t gained any ground. The whole point to training so hard was to prove that I actually could defend myself. Councilor or not, the thought that I was going to be shoved in the back of the Archives in the event of an attack was insulting. Not only that, it was even more insulting than the time I had round-the-clock guards. No one else had to put up with this, why did I?

“Tap out, Sophia,” he warned me. He wasn’t squeezing yet, but he had his arm locked tightly enough that I couldn’t get my head out. When I silently refused, he sighed and applied pressure, pissing me off even more.

I’m not helpless, I growled at myself. The anger at myself and the frustration with the situation flooded my mind, and I started pulling against the hold with my legs.

“You’re going to break your neck,” he grunted as he leaned the opposite direction. I may not have had his stamina, but I could also leg-press nearly five-hundred pounds. He could let go, or lean back, no other options.

Spots were floating in front of my eyes when I felt his posture change, and as soon as I felt it, both my arms swung up. Assuming I was going to hit his face, he leaned back even further…

Right into the path of my cupped hands, which hit his ears hard enough to bruise both my hands.

“Ow, FUCK!” he shouted, the pain of his ruptured ear drums distracting him just enough that I was able to pull my head free.

As soon as I stood, he reached up to one of his ears, only to pull his hand away and see blood. “Son of a - “ he stopped when he realized what happened. “Huh. That… that is a pretty neat trick.”

Oh, just you wait, I thought to myself.

Sure enough, as soon as he tried to shift his weight for another assault, he stumbled. Trying to compensate, he made it even worse and ended up falling flat on his back. Dropping his head to the mat in defeat, he splayed his limbs out to try to gain some sense of equilibrium. “Oh that is cool,” he muttered, obviously for my benefit since he couldn’t exactly hear himself.

I managed to get him to his feet and drag him to the corridor as the medical transport arrived - there was no way I was going to try to walk him to a medbay. Once his eardrums were restored - along with his internal balance - Arthur stood and stared me down. “That was a dirty trick, Sophia.” Without warning, I was suddenly pulled into a crushing hug. “I am so proud of you. Do that, a lot of it.”

“Can’t breathe,” I gasped.

He released me, stepping back. “Right. The rib.”

I tried to wave him off. “It’s just a broken rib. I’ll be fine.”

“Medbay.” He gestured around the room. “Stop being stubborn.”

“You’re overreacting - “

“If you trip and fall, which you will, you can puncture a lung.”

“Hasn’t happened yet.”

“It’s been broken all of ten minutes. Medbay. Now.”

I glared at him. “If you think this is the first broken rib I’ve had, you’re insane. It’s not even the fiftieth.”

“Stop reminding me that I can’t go back to Earth and kill someone who is hopefully dead anyway. You made me go to the medbay for some broken teeth after the fight with Jokul. Also, with your luck it’s a miracle you haven’t killed yourself by breathing, and I am not going to be the one who’s next up on Tyche’s shit list. Go. Medbay. Now.”

I opened my mouth to argue again, but was cut off by swearing and Arthur literally just picking me up and dropping me in the closest berth. With exactly zero shame, he pinned me down by my shoulders and hips while one of Noah’s avatars held me down from the other side and scanned, then healed, my broken rib - both of them, it turns out. Finally, they both let go of me. “Can I leave now?” I asked petulantly.

“Only if you tell me the eardrum trick so I can figure out how to use it on other species.”

Sliding off the berth and to my feet, I ran a hand through my hair. “Easy. You just cup your hands so there aren’t any cracks between your fingers, like this.” I demonstrated. “And then try to clap your hands through someone’s head, right over the ears. Force of the air ruptures the ear drums, and the trauma reaction kills their spatial sense and balance.” When he tilted his head at the simplicity of it, I shrugged. “Women’s self-defense classes.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Speaking of women and self-defense, we have got to get you more in the habit of striking and blocking with your legs. Pretty sure you’d kick like a horse if you tried.”

“If I kick you, I’ll break something.”

“Your legs are a lot tougher than you think - “

“I meant something on you,” I clarified, staring at the ground.

I didn’t look up, but I could hear the savage grin in his voice at what he said next. “Oh, we have got to try this.” When my head snapped up, sure enough, he was smiling. “If you can land a kick on me, I won’t even be mad if you break something. But that’s not what I meant.”

“You want me to test it on someone else?” That wasn’t exactly a better option.

He rolled his eyes. “Maverick literally does calibrations for a living. Pretty sure he’s got something that measures impact force. Then we do the math from there.”

“I feel like I’m on an episode of MythBusters,” I grumbled as we headed out of the Medbay and back towards my office.

“I know!” he agreed enthusiastically.

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#the miys #found family #aliens #apocalypse #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #hfy #self defense #science fiction #sci fi #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing #my writing

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94monkeys · 4 years ago

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November, December and January were the worst months of my life that started out as the best months of my life. I am better, but I’m still not okay.

CW: death (not mine), medical stuff (no gore), emergency room experience

The first week of November was the election we’d been building up to, frankly, 4 years. I was basically eating, sleeping, breathing work from mid-August until the election, and then for several days after until we got the result that we wanted.

The second week in November, I found out I was pregnant. We were shocked and thrilled. (It was intentional but it was still, like, surprising that it actually worked???)

Turn back now because it only gets worse from here.

The third week in November, I find out I’m getting laid off. I was given a lot of reasons, none of which made sense, but basically a casualty of office politics way over my head. I was told that it wasn’t performance related, but it still felt brutal to have to do this after pouring myself into work. I’ve been laid off before, and it’s always a cold experience. You remember that your company only cares about you to a degree, and at the end of the day, they will always protect themselves and not you. I personally don’t understand why you would replace a professional with two part-time dilettantes on your public facing communications BUT ANYWAY!

I was asked to stay through the beginning of January and I accepted.

The fourth week in November was Thanksgiving. We were home about to make dinner for 2 (COVID). During the day, I started to feel sick and crampy. I called the urgent care nurse line and they told me to go to the ER. I live very close to a hospital, so I literally packed my biggest warmest sweatshirt and a book and walked there, leaving my spouse and the turkey still in the oven (luckily that was his purview anyway).

The ER was, surprisingly, very quiet. I was there for about 4 hours while they ran various tests on me. (They had to call a specialist in from their Thanksgiving dinner, which I felt terrible about.) Ultimately, they could not determine whether I had miscarried or not, so they sent me home with instructions to take it easy and to go in for more testing.

In December I had a doctor’s appointment where they confirmed that I was not pregnant any more. (The tech was very cold and impersonal… I was crying on the ultrasound table. I know that it was so early, but I was crying for myself and my spouse and the dreams we had invested that never came to be. I was sad because this was our first time, and it was so terrible, and we won’t ever have a first one.)

They flagged something in my blood tests that was troubling, so they ordered regular testing. I was going in about 3 times a week for blood draws. Luckily I’m not scared of needles so it was more annoying than anything.

I was also applying to and interviewing for jobs (without success) and also still working at my job where I felt literally invisible. It was a really dark time. I don’t know how else to describe it. I don’t know how I got out of bed every day. It felt like everything in my life had just collapsed at once. I didn’t feel unwell, but it was just like a big weight dragging me down all the time.

In the 3rd week of December, I had another ultrasound and then met with a new to me doctor, I’ll call her Dr. S. I had been going along with all the additional bloodwork, but I was starting to push back on why it was necessary.

It was a Friday afternoon when Dr. S met with me and said: We think that you have an ectopic pregnancy. I didn’t know, but I would soon learn that this was a pregnancy that was not in the right place, would not grow, but could rupture and kill me. She recommended surgery to address it.

Okay, I said. I had the next week off, so I assumed it would be either that week, or in January while I was funemployed (but still had my good health insurance).

I was thinking this weekend, said Dr. S.

So it was that I went to a Friday doctor’s appointment and found myself signing into surgery on Saturday morning.

It was my first ever surgery with anesthesia, and everyone took great care of me, but it was still EXTREMELY disconcerting. I had laparoscopic surgery so I only have 2 teeny scars, but I was in a lot of pain and confused when I woke up.

Work was closed all week, so I basically spent the whole week sitting in 1 chair in my apartment either watching movies or reading. I didn’t want to get into all the details with people, because a) 2020 was already so… 2020, b) I was still nominally job-hunting and I didn’t want to give anyone a dumb surface reason not to hire me or make them think I was a pregnancy flight risk (I love being a woman of a certain age!), c) I just didn’t want to talk about it. On the other hand, almost no one at work checked on me. I found their treatment very cold, again.

In January I put myself together for my last week at work, we had the runoff elections, we had the coup. I had my surgery follow-up where it was confirmed that it was an ectopic pregnancy. That was my January: medical follow-ups, but at least I don’t have to schedule them around the job I no longer have!

WHEW. If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for hearing me. I have since gotten a new job working on communications for politics, but also nonprofits and city agencies. My stress has been cut by probably 70 percent. In my job I’m doing a lot more writing, which is probably what enabled me to write this long overdue update with most of everything in it.

We are starting to explore our fertility options. I had a doctor that really catastrophized me in terms of how intense we need to go about it, but likely we will start slowly and see how it goes. They still don’t know why I had an ectopic (and probably won’t figure out), but I am at higher risk of having another one, so any potential pregnancy will involve a lot of testing and monitoring. That’s why we haven’t “started” “trying” again, because there are tests and there is my new job and so on. I had a hysterosalpingogram, which you should definitely Google if you’re not squeamish. (It didn’t hurt but it was totally weird!)

I am better, but I’m not OK. I’m still mad about everything that happened to me. There are moments when I get catapulted back to my surgery and everything, and I completely freeze. I just got my doctors’ records from November and December (which I had to pay $35 for!!! MY OWN RECORDS) and even though I didn’t learn anything new from reading those records, I still had a lot of emotional trouble processing what happened. It’s weird that so many of them start by noting that the patient was “not in acute distress.” Must be an automatic fill-in because that doesn’t match what I was feeling ever!!!

Dr. S literally saved my life and I think what was not clear to me at the time, because I was still mourning what could have been, is that I am still here. I am more than everything that happened to me.

I am looking for a new therapist and I am trying to look on the bright side. Unfortunately, one of my oldest friends in the world endured a similar health issue back in January; fortunately, we are each other’s best comfort because I know she won’t judge me. This summer may bring good news on this front or maybe not, but at least vaccinated we can do more than we have been able to do (picnics in the park! Visits to family!) I have to believe my luck is turning. It’s how I get by.

#very long life update #you know it's good if there's a cut #cw: death #cw: depression #cw: medical

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goldenhemmings · 5 years ago

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When You Love Someone | Streetfighter!Shawn (Part Four)

Whew. Hi. Not sure if anyone still cares about this series and I know Shawnblr isn’t what it used to be but I’ve had this part near completion for months and I finally just forced myself to finish it. Thank you to everyone who has still taken the time to send me messages of support for my writing over the past few months even though I’ve hardly posted anything. It means the world to me!

Also want to take this space to say very briefly that with everything going on in the world right now (especially for my fellow friends in the U.S.), staying out of politics/current events is a privilege and it is our responsibility to participate and to stay informed and aware. Do your part.

With that being said, here is 5.8k words of Streetfighter!Shawn. There’s naturally some violence and all that stuff, so please don’t read if that’s something that would bother you. You can find parts one, two, and three in my masterlist. Enjoy!!

“Hey,” was the first word Y/N heard the next morning, and she groaned as she blinked her groggy eyes several times to slowly let in the light of the room. The first thing she became aware of was Shawn leaning over her, his hand on her hip as he lightly shook her awake. The second was the splitting headache that she felt in her temples. She moaned, still half-asleep as she covered her eyes with her arm to block out the brightness of the room. She had yet to realize the situation she was in.

“I know you’re tired,” Shawn continued, slightly amused as he continued to shake her into full consciousness, “but you have class. You should get up.”

Class. It’s Friday. That realization alone was enough to have Y/N jolting up like she was waking from a nightmare. “What time is it?” she cried, not missing the way Shawn, looking like a deer caught in headlights, had jumped back with a start.

“It’s 10. You have an hour.”

“Fucking hell,” she grunted, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She flew around the room, familiar to her only as bits and pieces of broken memories from the night before flooded back, and noticed a pile of her clothes in the corner at about the same time she realized she was clad only in a large t-shirt that certainly didn’t belong to her. She dashed over to retrieve last night’s outfit. “I’m gonna be so fucking late.”

“Relax,” Shawn reassured, moving to place his hands on her arms in an effort to ground her. “You have an entire hour.”

“I need to get home and change,” she mumbled, raising a hand to her aching forehead.

“I’ll drive you.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I do,” he chuckled. “I promised you last night that I would.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, sheepishly, trying to ignore the small wave of nausea beginning to creep up on her. She didn’t remember that. “How are you, like, okay right now?” she queried, reaching to grab her phone from where it sat on the nightstand. “God, I feel like crap.”

He laughed softly. “I can obviously handle alcohol better than you.”

“No shit,” Y/N replied snarkily, laughing despite herself as she reached to pull her matted hair up into a hair tie. Wine always does you dirty, you idiot. What were you thinking?

Shawn grinned, flopping back onto the bed and reaching to rest his hands under his head. As Y/N went to tug on her jeans, she realized for the first time that morning that Shawn was shirtless. She didn’t even have time to appreciate it before a wave of panic had set in. My clothes are on the floor. I stayed the night at his place. I don’t remember anything.

Y/N looked up at Shawn, wide-eyed. She took a deep breath. “Did we…?”

It took him a second to understand what she was insinuating, but as soon as he did he sat up immediately, his wide eyes mirroring Y/N’s. “God, no,” he replied. “You were drunk. I was too, for what it’s worth. You just slept here.”

“Right,” Y/N mumbled, slightly humiliated that she even had to ask. She’d never done anything like this before, and especially not on a night where she had class the next morning. “Okay.”

Shawn propped his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his hands. “I can take you whenever you want to leave.”

She glanced around the room one last time to make sure she had all of her belongings, then brought her eyes to Shawn. “Now’s good.”

“Do you want some ibuprofen or something first?” he offered, not oblivious to the massive hangover she was undoubtedly experiencing.

But Y/N just shook her head, already out of his room and heading to the front door of the apartment. “I’ll be fine.”

Shawn laughed, pulling a shirt on and grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. “Whatever you say.”

He followed her down the dingy corridor towards the single working elevator, and they could hear it clanging to a stop on their floor before the familiar ding that preceded the opening of the doors had sounded. Shawn allowed Y/N to go in first, and he reached past her to press the button for the first floor.

Y/N heaved a deep breath, taking in the complex’s surroundings as she and Shawn stepped out into the parking lot. Just how run down Westgate was became so much clearer in the daylight--startlingly so.

Westgate was scary; there wasn’t a single person in the entire city that wouldn’t admit that much. In all actuality, Shawn made enough money from his fights that he could easily afford to stay in a much safer area. His current apartment was all he’d had the money for when he moved out of his parents’ house, but for whatever reason, he’d grown too attached to the place to want to relocate somewhere nicer. Additionally, Westgate was close to Dynamite, and it was where most of the people he ran with lived. He’d grown to not mind it; something he knew most people would never understand.

The ride to Y/N’s house was silent, for which she and her pounding head were appreciative. “I’ll be quick,” she mumbled as Shawn pulled into her driveway, fishing her key out of her purse.

“No rush,” he responded. He watched with a slight smile as she made her way up the driveway to her doorstep, almost amused at the possibility that she was angry with herself for behavior anyone else would consider normal for a college student.

Y/N turned the key into the lock of the front door, wincing at the creaking sound it made as she pushed it open. She crossed her fingers in the hopes that she wouldn’t run into her roommates, but her wishes were immediately denied as she heard Jade’s voice floating out from the kitchen. “Y/N? Is that you?”

Y/N didn’t answer, instead just turning to shut the door behind her. She saw Jade come into view, her curly dark hair pushed off of her face with a headband. “Woah. You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Y/N scoffed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Where were you?” her roommate continued, and Y/N leaned back against the front door and pressed a hand to her temple. “Brook and I were worried. We didn’t hear from you all night.”

“I was with Shawn.”

“All night?” she shrieked, and Y/N swore the sound made her brain rattle inside her skull.

“You’re gonna want to speak very softly to me,” she warned. “And as much as I’d love to stand here and have this conversation right now, I have class in half an hour and Shawn is waiting outside for me to get my shit.”

“And change your clothes, I’m assuming,” Jade chirped, and Y/N couldn’t even manage the energy to roll her eyes.

“Thanks for that,” she griped, moving towards the stairs that would lead to her bedroom.

“Want coffee?” Jade asked, but Y/N only shook her head no before disappearing down the hallway. After brushing her teeth and swapping her day-old outfit for some clean leggings and a freshly-washed hoodie, Y/N shoved her laptop into her backpack and swung it over her shoulder, silently praying that the computer was charged enough to get her through class. She clambered down the stairs and grabbed a protein bar from the kitchen despite the fact that even the mere thought of eating made her want to throw up, then threw it into her bag before retreating back to Shawn’s car.

“Have everything?” he asked, and as soon as he saw her nod he put the Jeep into reverse to guide it out of the driveway.

Y/N spent the brief car ride resting her forehead against the cool glass of the passenger side window and reveling in the silence that she knew would end the second she got to campus. Shawn eventually pulled up in front of the building Y/N’s class was held in, and she reluctantly pulled her backpack up into her lap.

“What time are you done?” Shawn asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had characterized the trip from Y/N’s house to campus. “I’ll pick you up.”

She immediately shook her head, already feeling guilty for all that he’d done for her in the past twelve hours. “Don’t worry about it, it’s okay.”

“I want to,” he insisted, and Y/N took a deep breath as she realized that this was a battle she’d surely lose.

“It’s supposed to end at 12:30, but the professor might let us out early because it’s Friday. I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” he nodded, already looking forward to it even though Y/N had yet to leave the car.

“Stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” she teased, and Shawn laughed.

“No promises,” he joked back, leaning in to kiss her quickly before unlocking the car door. He watched her slide out of the Jeep and immediately press a hand to her forehead as the unfiltered light hit her eyes, and Shawn sat behind the steering wheel with a goofy smile on his face as he watched her climb the steps up to her class.

When she set her things down at her usual place in the lecture hall, Y/N finally had a moment to breathe and process her thoughts; despite the rush, she’d made it to class with just over five minutes to spare. She had been so preoccupied with the hangover and her race to get to campus that she hadn’t even had time to reflect on the previous night; no chance to be excited about it, no chance to relive the memories that would surely make her stomach flutter, and no chance to even thank Shawn for all he’d done for her from showing her his secret rooftop, to telling her about his past, to sharing countless glasses of wine with her and allowing her to stay the night, and making sure she got to class the next day. She vowed to find a way to properly thank him as soon as the fogginess in her brain cleared up enough to allow her to think clearly.

Shawn, on the other hand, could do nothing but think about the previous night as he drove back to his apartment. He’d hated having to wake Y/N up that morning; there was nothing in his life that had ever made him happier than seeing Y/N’s peaceful face pressed into his pillow, her body curled into his sheets. He hadn’t wanted to be the one to put an end to it. As he drove he thought about getting her coffee, but decided it would be better to stop for it on his way back, so he pulled into the parking lot of his run-down apartment complex as planned.

From that point, however, any plans he had were out the window.

As Shawn turned into his typical parking space, he couldn’t help but notice a familiarly burly, blond-haired man standing in the spot and thus blocking Shawn’s path. Axel. Shawn froze, but he did his best to feign nonchalance as he shifted the Jeep into park and slid out of the driver’s seat. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his skin instantaneously crawling in response to the casual smile that crossed Axel’s mouth.

“I want to talk about the stunt you pulled with Damon at the bar the other night.”

Shawn sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. That little shit swore he wouldn’t say anything. “What about the stunt you pulled with me? Interrupting one of my fights to get some bullshit form of revenge because you still can’t stand that I beat you?”

Axel’s jaw clenched. “Is that why you ran the second I showed up?” he interrogated, sarcasm dripping from his lips. “Because you really seemed confident in your ability to beat me then.”

“That’s not how it happened, and you know it. You had me triple-teamed.”

“Get over yourself.”

“Could say the same to you,” Shawn laughed, but he took a threatening step closer to the blond in front of him. “Tell me what you’re doing here.”

The same sickening smile made its way back onto Axel’s face, and though he’d never admit it, it began to make Shawn uneasy. “I was waiting to confront you again until I had leverage.”

“What leverage?” Shawn spat, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Damon said your little dispute that night was over some girl he’d never seen before.”

Shawn ignored his instigative words. “Wouldn’t call it a ‘dispute’ so much as him getting his ass kicked. And for good reason.”

“Maybe so,” Axel conceded. “But we can agree that it was over a girl?” Shawn was quiet, but he swallowed heavily. “Right,” Axel continued, seemingly accepting Shawn’s silence as an affirmative. “So I had him and Rocco do some investigating, and--” Shawn’s heart plummeted.

“What, have you been following her?” Shawn interrupted, fists clenched at his sides.

Axel lit up with a sort of delighted expression, his sharp blue eyes unwavering from Shawn’s face. “So there is a girl.”

Shawn strode toward his challenger until he was less than a foot away from his face. “Did you have her followed?” he repeated furiously.

“At first,” Axel admitted, and Shawn’s blood boiled hot. “But then Raven decided to help us out. You know she’s never been one to keep her mouth shut.”

Raven. Of course. “I swear to God, Axel. She is a nice person and she doesn’t deserve any part of this. You lay a single fucking finger on her and I’ll--”

“Easy, Mendes,” Axel laughed, much to Shawn’s chagrin. “I don’t know what she looks like. Hell, I don’t even know her name. But I guess Raven was right when she told me that you really seem to give a shit about her.”

Shawn scoffed, incredulous. “What, are you running around with Raven now?”

“Jealous?” Axel smirked.

Shawn could only laugh at the assertion. “You two deserve each other, that’s all.”

“You’ve been there too, Mendes. What does that say about you?”

“What do you want?” Shawn demanded, ignoring Axel’s antics, but the phrase was flat and menacing; less of a question and more of a command. “Stop wasting my time talking about whatever leverage you think you have and tell me what you actually want.”

“Nothing, really,” Axel replied, making a dramatic show of shrugging his shoulders. “Just came to give you fair warning that the next time you decide to take on me or one of my guys outside of Dynamite, we have a pretty good idea of how to get back at you. And I have a feeling it’d hurt a hell of a lot more than a punch to the face.”

“Do not threaten her.”

“I mean it as more of a threat to you. Like I said,” Axel went on, ignoring Shawn, “I don’t know her name or what she looks like, but I could find out so fucking quick if you don’t stay in your own lane. Try me.”

Shawn didn’t realize he’d punched Axel until he recognized the pain in his own knuckles. Or maybe it was when he felt Axel’s fist collide with the corner of his mouth in retaliation. Regardless, Shawn’s mind was overwhelmingly clouded with rage and protectiveness and a thousand other feelings he was too emotional to pinpoint. Mentally Shawn was back at Dynamite, taking on a challenger as he had done so many times before. But now, for the first time in his life, there was a real reason why he was fighting. He didn’t care that he was in a parking lot; no one, not even Axel, would threaten Y/N and expect to walk away from it unscathed.

Armed with a motivation and an anger he’d never felt before, Shawn got to work. Axel was pinned on the pavement within seconds, thrashing under Shawn’s strength so violently that it was almost funny.

“Are we done now?” Shawn grunted, reveling in the way Axel struggled underneath him.

“Behind you,” Axel heaved, turning his head to the side to spit blood onto the pavement. “Cops.”

Shawn smirked. “Can’t take it?”

“I’m serious, man,” he groaned. “Look.”

Shawn was still tense, but he turned over his shoulder anyways only to catch sight of the squad car Axel was talking about parked across the street. “Shit.”

“We’ll finish this another time.” Axel turned to run off, but not before Shawn could grab him and immediately pull him into a tight chokehold.

“Why do you keep trying to fight me when I always win?” he sneered. “Give up.”

“Let me go before I flip you over my shoulder,” came Axel’s equally menacing reply, but Shawn knew he wouldn’t have the energy left to do so.

“When I do, you’ll leave Y/N alone,” he seethed into Axel’s ear. “Got it?”

“If you stay out of my shit, then yes,” Axel grunted, lacking the energy to fight back. He turned to face Shawn after being released from his grasp, his blue eyes narrowed and his lips pulled up as though something was curious or amusing. With his cockiness, it was hard to believe he’d just been in a chokehold. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Leave,” Shawn commanded, not at all willing to put up with Axel’s antagonizing words or draw unwanted attention.

Once Axel had darted off around the corner of the building, Shawn, not bothering to address the fact that his Jeep was only halfway in its parking spot, ducked his head and dashed towards the lobby of his dilapidated apartment complex. He ignored the throbbing in his lip and the metallic taste of blood on his tongue as he maneuvered his way to the elevator without drawing the attention of the elderly woman working in the lobby, breathing a sigh of relief once he was safely behind the closed doors and en route to his floor.

Once inside his apartment, Shawn made a beeline for the bathroom. He took in his reflection and sighed; he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. He grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink, bringing it up to scrub at the blood around the corner of his mouth that was beginning to dry.

He didn’t bother to be gentle or work around his pain; after years of fighting, it was something he was oddly numb to. He could see his eye beginning to bruise, and as he clenched the cloth in his hand he noticed that his knuckles were, too. He laughed to himself as he wondered how much worse Axel would look.

It wasn’t until the last of the blood had been rinsed down the drain when realization dawned on him: he’d forgotten about Y/N.

“No, no, no,” he rambled, immediately pulling out his phone to find three messages from her that he’d missed.

12:24 Hey! I just got out of class. I know it’s a little early, so take your time.

12:40 Are you close?

12:57 I’m just gonna walk. Talk to you later.

And then nothing.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, dialing her number with no thought of what he was even going to say.

After sitting through a mind-numbing lecture for an hour and then walking home through a hangover, all Y/N wanted to do was shower, put fresh clothes on, and sleep for the rest of the day. She was just about to test the water temperature in her shower when her phone rang, so she reached for where it sat on the bathroom counter and took a deep breath when she saw Shawn’s name lighting up the screen. She didn’t realize that she’d made the conscious decision to answer the call until she heard herself saying hello.

“I’m so sorry I forgot,” Shawn blurted. “I promise there’s a reason.”

She sighed as she took in his words, too exhausted to bother with it. “It’s really no big deal.”

“Yeah, it is, though,” he responded. “Can I pick you up in a little bit? We can get dinner and I can try to make it up to you.”

“Not tonight, Shawn. I’m really tired. I’ve gotta go.”

Shawn groaned when he realized she’d hung up, pressing a hand to his forehead in frustration with himself. It didn’t take long before he’d grabbed his keys and decided to make the drive to Y/N’s house; he wanted to give her a real apology, and he wanted her to know that he cared enough to do it in person.

When Y/N got out of her shower, feeling significantly better than she had all day, all she could think about was going to sleep, even if it was only three in the afternoon. She changed into fresh, clean clothes and crawled into bed, heaving a sigh of relief after she felt every muscle in her body relax into the mattress.

It seemed that not even two seconds after her head had touched the pillow, one of her roommates was calling out for her from downstairs. At first Y/N ignored it, opting instead to pull the covers up over her face as though it would successfully shut her off from the rest of the world. But the voice, presumably Brooklyn’s, sounded again, and Y/N knew she couldn’t avoid it. Frustrated to the point of tears, she slid out of bed and trudged down the stairs, griping the whole way.

“You’d better be dying or something, Brook, because if I just dragged my hungover ass all the way down here for something stupid I’m--” Y/N froze as the front door came into view; rather, as the person behind the front door came into view.

“Shawn?” she questioned tentatively, squinting at the bright light coming in from the doorway. “What are you--Holy shit.” She strode towards him with a newfound energy as her eyes registered the wounds on his face, her hands immediately coming up to hold his chin for a better look. “What happened to you?”

“I’m gonna go upstairs now,” Brooklyn muttered, turning away from her roommate, but the comment was disregarded by both Y/N and Shawn.

Shawn pretended that Y/N’s wide, concerned eyes didn’t tug at his heart, instead simply shrugging his shoulders and gingerly removing her hands from his face. He turned away to finally close the front door. “It’s not important. Are you feeling better?”

“I saw you a few hours ago. You were perfectly fine,” she cried, ignoring his lame attempt to change the subject.

He sighed, running a hand with freshly-bruised knuckles through his hair, and followed her to the couch in the living room. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not being there to pick you up from class,” he started, still avoiding the only topic Y/N now cared about. “I told you I would, and I fucked up. I didn’t want you to be mad and think I forgot, or that I was ignoring you, or--”

“I don’t care about that,” she cut in softly. “Why do you look like this?” She shook her head slightly, in disbelief. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he defended, but Y/N wasn’t having it.

“You do not look like that for no reason,” she challenged, cocking her head to the side.

Shawn heaved a breath, leaning his head back against the sofa. “I know,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just--okay. Remember the night we met?” Y/N nodded. “I told you I was running from a group of guys, one of them being the asshole I pulled off of you. And I told you about the one who’s kind of their leader, too.”

Y/N nodded once again, curious as to where this was going. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Okay, well, he apparently didn’t like that I beat up on one of his buddies that night.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He was pissed off enough to show up at my apartment and threaten the hell out of me about not doing it again. I didn’t like what he was saying, so I hit him,” Shawn admitted, though there wasn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice. He paused. “And then he hit me back. And then...you know. So that’s why I forgot to come get you.”

Y/N inhaled sharply as she processed Shawn’s words. “Why did he wait so long to find you if he was really that angry?”

“I don’t know,” Shawn lied. Y/N didn’t need to know that there were men who had, at one point, been tracking her for the sole purpose of having something to hold over Shawn’s head. He wanted to leave her out of it, for her own sake. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Well how did you get him to finally leave you alone?”

Shawn sighed, reaching a hand up to the back of his neck. “We saw a cop car parked across the street, so we ran. Not trying to get involved with that.”

“I don’t understand,” Y/N admitted with a frown. “He chased you away from your own match with every intention of catching you and fighting you. Now, what? He’s mad because you defended yourself--and me--from some asshole who happened to be one of his friends? And then he showed up at your apartment to fight you over it? That doesn’t make sense. It’s hypocritical.”

Shawn could only shrug. “That’s just how he is. Always has to have the upper hand on everything.”

“But you’re still going to fight him again.”

“No idea. But if I do, it’ll be the right way.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “How is there a right way to fight someone?”

“Dynamite,” Shawn muttered. “Like, officially. In front of people.”

“God,” she whispered, reaching her fingers up to lightly trace over a fresh cut on his cheek. “Who is this guy?”

He breathed out softly. “Trust me. You don’t want to know.”

Y/N was quiet, and it made Shawn nervous. Seeing the physical effects of his pastime of choice made Y/N realize the true intensity and danger of what Shawn was involved in, and what she was seeing in front of her wasn’t even from a full, official fight--he had people trying to go after him on the side, too.

“What’s wrong?” Shawn asked softly, unable to withstand the silence for any longer.

“This just scares me,” Y/N whispered. She nervously fidgeted with her fingers, her eyes downcast. “Half your face is busted and there are people, like, after you and you’re acting like nothing even happened.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle. For me, this isn’t a big deal.”

“But I’m not you,” she pressed quietly. “For me, this is a little concerning.”

“You should see the other guy,” he joked, but Y/N just stared back at him, anxiously pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and biting down on it.

Shawn couldn’t ignore the crease in her brow, and he fought the urge to reach up and smooth it out. “Come stay with me tonight.”

“I-I don’t know, Shawn,” she stumbled, slightly taken aback. “I’m really tired and I have a lot to do and it’s not--”

“I won’t bother you at all,” he promised. “You can do homework the whole time, or sleep, or whatever you want.”

“But I can do that here, too,” she pointed out, the teasing glint in her eyes giving away that she was actually closer to saying yes than she was pretending to be.

“I just like having you around me,” he admitted, but it was only part of the story. The whole truth was that it would make him feel infinitely better if she was with him, because he could guarantee that nothing would happen to her. He’d never admit that out loud, and he certainly couldn’t mention it to Y/N. He knew it would scare her, and that’s the last thing he wanted to do.

He watched Y/N study his bloodied knuckles as she contemplated his offer. He couldn’t help but think about the fact that Y/N’s entire essence was the antithesis of his, to the point where it was almost comical. If it weren’t for the fact that she seemed to like him just as much, Shawn would feel selfish for wanting Y/N in his life; like he was dragging her into something he knew she deserved better than.

Y/N let out a heavy breath, carefully studying Shawn’s face. He raised his eyebrows at her, eliciting a small giggle before she finally delivered the verdict.

“Fine,” she said, trying to be stern but unable to fight off a smile. “But I’m going to bed the second I get there.”

“Okay,” he grinned. “My car’s in the driveway, so we can leave whenever.”

“Can I have a few minutes, actually? I should probably talk to my roommates before I just leave again, plus I need to grab some clothes and stuff.”

“Of course,” he answered, not realizing how annoyingly nervous he’d been that she’d say no until she agreed. “I’ll go pick up coffee and then come back.”

“I can’t drink coffee right now, I need to sleep,” she laughed.

“Right, okay. Tea then.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “I’ll see you in a few.”

With that she headed up to her room to begin throwing her books, some clothes, and a toothbrush into a bag, but Brooklyn was waiting in Y/N’s room for her.

“So,” Brooklyn started, watching her friend as she moved to grab her backpack from where it sat next to her dresser. “You gonna tell me what happened to your boyfriend?”

“I was about to come find you, actually,” Y/N sighed, softly shutting a textbook that was on her desk and reaching to put it into her backpack. “Have you already talked to Jade?”

Brooklyn nodded, offering a comforting smile. “I wanted to see if she’d know what was going on, but she was just as clueless as me.” She paused, seemingly considering whether or not she was going to continue talking. “I don’t mean to pry, it’s just that the protective friend in me is a little concerned that, the first time I’m meeting this guy, he looked like that. I’m thrilled that you’re happy, at least from what I can tell, but I want to make sure he’s a good person worthy of my best friend.”

Y/N smiled, and it was genuine. It wasn’t hard for her to understand why Brooklyn would be concerned on her behalf. “I’m going to stay with him again tonight,” she admitted, not missing the way Brooklyn’s eyes widened, silently prompting her for more details. “I don’t know,” she continued. “It’s just so easy to be with him, which is weird because most of the shit he does when I’m not around scares me to death.”

“Like what?” Brooklyn queried, carefully watching Y/N, but she didn’t answer right away.

“Jade?” Y/N called out, pausing to wait for a response. When her other roommate’s voice floated out from across the hall, Y/N wasted no time asking Jade to come to her room; she only wanted to explain this once, which meant she needed both of her roommates with her.

“Hey,” Jade said, moving to sit on the edge of Y/N’s bed. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just want to tell you guys about Shawn. I feel like I haven’t talked to you both in forever, anyways.”

“Shawn,” Jade imitated. “So he has a name now.”

“Shut up,” Y/N groaned, and both of her roommates laughed. “I really like him, you guys. He’s...I don’t even know, he’s just not like anyone I’ve ever known before. He’s so tough all the time but there’s also, like, this depth to him that…” She stopped, moving her eyes down to sheepishly stare at the floor. “God, I probably sound so stupid.”

Jade and Brooklyn exchanged looks, which Y/N did not like. “Okay, acting like you’re reading each other’s minds like that is stressing me out,” she laughed, but it was fueled by nervousness. She desperately wanted her best friends to like Shawn; without their approval, she wasn’t sure what she would do.

“You don’t sound stupid at all, and we’re not trying to stress you out,” Brooklyn reassured. “We just know what your last relationship did to you and I think I speak for both Jade and myself when I say that we never want to see you go through something like that again.”

“Shawn is nothing like he was,” Y/N insisted, unwilling to so much as say her ex’s name.

“If you say he’s not, then I believe you,” Jade chimed in. “I’m so happy to see you excited about a different guy, but I just want you to be extra careful of any red flags. And Shawn showing up at our door all beat up isn’t exactly the image I want in my head of the guy my best friend is spending all her time with.”

“It’s normal for him,” Y/N insisted, then immediately reconsidered as she took in the looks on her roommates’ faces. “Okay, so it’s not normal but it’s not shocking. He fights professionally so it just comes with the territory, I guess. He’s never worried about it, so I’m trying not to be.”

“Another fighter?” Jade interrogated, concern clearly taking over her features.

“I know, I know, but this is different,” Y/N jumped, quick to defend Shawn. Her ex had been a boxer, and so she could understand her friends’ concern over the strangely coincidental similarity the two shared. “Shawn doesn’t just go around looking for trouble outside the ring, and from what I understand his style of fighting is different, anyways. He’s different.”

Jade moved next to Y/N, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We just want you to be careful,” she said softly. “If Shawn makes you happy, then we’re happy for you.”

Y/N finally looked up at her friends and held out her arms for a hug, breathing a heavy sigh of relief that this long-overdue conversation had finally happened. Now that things were right with both Shawn and her roommates, Y/N felt like she could relax again. “I’m always careful,” she reassured, offering a slight smile once Brooklyn and Jade pulled away from their group embrace.

But no amount of being careful could have prepared her for what was yet to come.

Thank you for reading!! Feedback makes me very happy.

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missfay49 · 4 years ago

Text

Just Listen

Summary: The fam-ILY gets together for a Christmas celebration.

Warnings: Logan and Virgil get in a fight but they make up, obligatory interaction with relatives, alcohol, food, Christmas, cursing, countdown, mention of past injury, struggling with recent hearing loss

Word Count: ~3000

Oldest to Youngest: Logan/Remus/Roman/Janus/Virgil/Patton/Alec

Other Characters: Aunt Patty and Uncle Mitch, Aunt Mel and Uncle Jim, Titi, Grandma Sanders, Grandpa Sanders, Maman, Nico Flores

DD:HH:MM:SS - Days : Hours : Minutes : Seconds

AO3

Once upon a time, there were seven cousins born of four siblings. The oldest sister and her husband had twins and named them Roman and Remus. The second oldest sister and her partners had a child and named him Alec. The youngest sister had one child and named him Patton. And their brother, the youngest of them all, had three children named Logan, Janus, and Virgil.

00:16:02:32 until Christmas Day, 7:58 AM

Logan, the oldest cousin, was leaning against the kitchen counter holding a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and rubbing his right temple with the other. He blinked against the early morning sun of Christmas Eve streaming in.

“You’re up early!”

Logan jumped at the movement to his right and found his aunt looking at him.

“Good morning, Aunt Mel. I made coffee.”

“Bless ya, kid,” she said, turning toward the machine. When she came back around to grab the sugar, he was gone.

00:13:25:17 until Christmas Day, 10:35 AM

“Who took the last piece of bacon?!”

Roman froze in his spot on the floor in front of the T.V. If he were just very, very still, maybe-

“J’accuse!” Remus shouted from the kitchen door over the sounds of chatter and clinking kitchenware. Roman spun around to see Remus pointing at him menacingly.

“You already had some!” Roman yelled back, pulling his plate close. Remus, not breaking eye contact even once, methodically kicked off his flip flops and set his plate gently on top of a bookshelf. He crouched a little and rolled his shoulders.

“Remus, no, my juice, Remus! NOOO-”

00:13:23:03 until Christmas Day, 10:37 AM

From his cozy spot beneath the sheets in the spare bedroom, Virgil heard a scream and a thump. And then several more thumps. He blinked and stretched, smooshing his face into the pillow. For one precious moment, he imagined he could go back to sleep but the dream was pierced by Aunt Patty’s shrill voice scolding someone down the hall.

He shoved himself up on his elbows and sent a hostile glare at the general brightness of the room. Things quieted down but it was too late - he was up. He stretched for several more minutes before finally straightening his clothes and stumbling out to follow the smell of breakfast.

00:12:40:54 until Christmas Day, 11:20 AM

Virgil shuffled past the subdued twins in the living room and into the kitchen, stopping at the door as his brain tried to process what was happening. His younger cousin, Patton, was furtively opening and closing all the cabinets, searching each and every one. Apparently he found what he was looking for, because he started chuckling to himself and reached behind some cups to pull out a huge plastic bag of cookies. He opened it and spun around on his socks, walking headlong into Virgil.

“Ah!” Patton nearly dropped the bag, and a couple cookies fell out onto the floor. Virgil laughed as they picked them up together.

“Whatcha doing, Pat?”

Patton waved him close, whispering.

“My mom keeps hiding the cookies. She said if I keep eating ‘em she’s gonna have to make more for tomorrow. That sounds like a win-win to me!” He took the floor cookie from Virgil and pocketed it. They took turns peering into the dining room where the older folks were talking.

“You do you, cuz.” They bumped fists and Virgil scooped some cold leftover eggs onto a paper plate to take with him to the living room. Remus shoved past him coming back into the kitchen.

Whatever Remus had planned to do in here was lost when he spotted Pat.

“Oo! Cookies!”

00:11:22:49 until Christmas Day, 12:38 PM

“What exactly are we watching, Roman?” asked Patton, popping a couple Tums into his mouth and flopping down into a recliner. Roman was still planted in the middle of the living room floor, but now Virgil was keeping him company, fast asleep on the couch with an empty plate in his lap. Roman didn’t look away from the screen.

“A Christmas Prince. It’s about a journalist that falls in love with the prince of a whole Christmas-themed country! And the bad guy’s not too bad lookin’ either.” Roman squeezed a pillow to his chest.

“Oh, right, I thought it looked familiar! Did you watch Jenny Nicholson’s breakdown of it?”

“Who?”

Patton smiled at the look of wonder on Roman’s face as he followed the characters on screen. At the silence, Roman turned around to look at him, distracted but curious. Patton waved him off.

“Never mind.” Better not to spoil it.

00:07:12:24 until Christmas Day, 16:47 PM

“Dinner tiiime!” Aunt Patty peeked into the living room. “It’s all ready, you guys hungry?”

“Yisss!” Patton launched himself out of the recliner with Virgil following slowly behind. Roman tore his eyes away from the current Hallmark movie with great effort, checking his phone messages.

Aunt Mel was in the kitchen with their little cousin Alec. Just as they passed through he let up a screech, making them all jump. Roman’s phone went flying.

“AAAAA DON’T WANNA WASH I’M STILL PLAYING!”

“AH, sweet Jesus,” Roman clutched his chest dramatically as the rest started laughing.

“Alright, keep it together, ya hooligans,” Aunt Mel teased them. “Alec, I’ve had too much wine today for you to be screaming at the water. You told me yesterday you love playing with the water-”

Auntie continued to help Alec wash his hands and the cousins tumbled into the dining room where Logan and the grandparents were already gathering. Logan braced at the incoming chaos.

“What happened to you?” He asked them.

“Didn’t you hear Alec screaming?” Virgil deadpanned.

“Oh,” Logan straightened his glasses. “Yes, that.”

The rest of the family came up from the basement talking heatedly about the Saints and the Vikings. Who was winning or losing at that particular moment was unclear, but dinner would proceed regardless.

00:04:47:19 until Christmas Day, 19:13 PM

“Defuse!” Remus slammed a card down onto the table. “Whew, that was close. I almost exploded in a fiery, kitten-y death!”

“Boom!” Alec cheered. Nearly the whole family was gathered around the kitchen-table-turned-game-table, even the grandparents and great grandma, Maman. Aunt Patty and Uncle Mitch were downstairs watching the end of the football game, and Titi was just a few feet away putting a new batch of sugar cookies in the oven. She shot a good-natured stare at Patton.

“Sorry, mooom,” “Sorry, Titiii” he and Remus chorused. “Patton tricked me!”

“Hey!”

“That’s okay, you two can help me decorate these later as punishment. Remus,” Titi pointed to the person beside him. “Help Maman with her turn, remember?”

“Oh, yeah!” Remus leaned over the centenarian. “You got any actions, Maman?”

“Quel est ce dessin?” She held her cards up to him and pointed.

“That’s a cat dressed as a taco, Maman. C’est un mème.”

While the game continued around the table, Virgil watched Logan discreetly. Sitting to his left, something was wrong with his oldest brother. He wasn’t sure what yet, but it was definitely… something.

“Nope!” Logan put a card down over Uncle Jim’s attack. Aunt Mel went next, then she helped Alec with his turn, and then, there it was; Logan’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. His eyes flitted back and forth between the players and the cards. He stared at their faces, but not quite at eye level. Patton’s, Roman’s, Grandma’s turns all passed the same - he was concentrating so hard. Why?

“Virgil?” Grandpa nudged him out of his speculation. “It’s your turn.”

Logan was staring at him expectantly.

“Oh.” Virgil glanced at two mismatched cats and drew. An exploding kitten. He was dead. “You’re turn, Lo.”

Logan spent a second longer waiting to see if Virgil was done, and then played his own cards. As they both watched Remus go next, Virgil leaned in closer.

“What is up with you?” He whispered. Logan didn’t take his eyes off Remus’ cards.

“Hey!” He kept whispering, jabbing Logan in the ribs.

“Ow!” Logan yelped, then lowering his voice. “What?”

“I asked you a question, don’t act like you can’t hear me.”

Logan squinted at him, then his face shifted. He looked stricken.

“I’m playing “See The Future”,” someone said. “Hand me the deck.”

00:04:22:44 until Christmas Day, 19:38 PM

VIRGE: what happened?

A new round had started and Virgil hoped that switching to text would let them continue their argu- debate without distracting the rest of the family.

BIG BRO: Nothing

VIRGE: bullshit

Logan ignored his phone, watching the game progress counter-clockwise this time. Virgil did not accept this strategy.

VIRGE: !

BIG BRO: Stop

VIRGE: tell the truth.

BIG BRO: (Seen)

They paused to take their turns, and when Virgil picked his phone back up, Logan was already typing. He tried to be patient, but the energy was clear in the way his foot tapped the ground.

BIG BRO: It seems my hearing has not entirely recovered since that explosion during chem lab a couple months ago. I’ve got tinnitus in my right ear. It is quite difficult to pick up sounds over the ringing when they’re coming from that direction.

BIG BRO: Or sometimes from any direction. So, I’m concentrating a little more. That’s all.

Virgil glanced between the texts and Logan several times, Logan staring with seemingly great intent at his cards.

VIRGE: THATS ALL?

BIG BRO: Calm down, it’s not a big deal.

VIRGE: have you been to a doctor?

Logan stopped to play another “Nope” card. Virgil was ready to scream at the delay. The chatter at the table seemed louder to him now and much, much different.

BIG BRO: Yes. And I’ve done plenty of my own research. There’s not much to be done unless I want to get surgery or start wearing hearing aids.

VIRGE: so wear hearing aids until you decide about the surgery

BIG BRO: They’re expensive, Virgil.

VIRGE: dads insrance must cover some of it and ive got some extra money

BIG BRO: No. Thank you. That money’s yours. You worked hard for it.

VIRGE: your e taking it

BIG BRO: That’s not the problem.

VIRGE: then what is.?

BIG BRO: (Seen)

VIRGE: why won’t you make it easier on yourself? you know none of us will care if you wear one. the explosion wasn’t even your fault, it was that other kid

Virgil sent the text and looked at Logan, waiting. Remus was nearly finished with his turn; Logan was next. The turns passed, but Logan didn’t pick his phone back up from the table.

VIRGE: why

Logan glanced at the text preview when it came up on the screen, still not moving.

VIRGE: i know you can see this

VIRGE: why

“Because!” Logan shouted, slapping his cards down. Everyone fell into a stunned quiet.

“Are you guys cheating? Mom says cheating is wrong.” Alec’s voice broke the silence a second later. Virgil stuck his tongue out at him.

“I assure you we are not cheating,” Logan smiled at Alec. “Virgil’s just being a pest.”

The game resumed, Patton taking an absurd amount of actions before drawing another Beard Cat card. Was it even legal to have that many cards?

Virgil leaned back in his chair, tired from the stress. His phone buzzed.

BIG BRO: This is my last semester. I’ll get one after graduation.

00:00:41:12 until Christmas Day, 23:19 PM

Roman carried two mugs of coffee into the living room as back-to-back commercials for 24 Hours of A Christmas Story played on the T.V. He handed one to Virgil and got back under the throw blanket.

“Thanks.”

“Whatcha doing?” Roman peered at Virgil’s laptop. There were at least a dozen tabs open. The current screen showed some kind of fancy earpods.

“Just killin’ time.” Virgil opened yet another tab.

“Yeah, it’s a bummer Janus picked a college so far away. But the train’s due in a few minutes! Then it’ll be officially Christmas.”

“I mean, he still has to, like, get here from the station.”

“Whatever,” shrugged Roman. He flipped through the channels. All commercials. He settled back on the Hallmark channel, laying down and closing his eyes while they waited for the latest must-have-product ads to end.

“Remember when we played dress up together?” Roman mused. “Mom taped all those toilet paper rolls together so we could have swords and we all fought over the two paper crowns from Burger King? Do they still make those?”

“I have no idea,” Virgil laughed. “That was so long ago, how do you even remember that?”

“Because I was a fabulous ruler! The kingdom prospered unendingly under my leadership!” Roman flung his free arm wide, not bothering to open his eyes. “It was glorious!”

“All you did was declare free love-”

“An important doctrine!” Roman jabbed at the air once before letting his arm flop back down and graze the carpet. “All Janus did was universally pardon thieves and liars, was that so much better?”

“Well, I was playing a thief. Maybe I’m biased.”

“You would…” Roman muttered. He didn’t finish the thought.

“Roman?”

A little snort was the only response. Roman was fast asleep, coffee untouched and the remote resting by his head.

00:00:00:03 until Christmas Day, 23:59 PM

00:00:00:02...

00:00:00:01...

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Virgil was stirring; he snuck like a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

in hopes that his brother soon would be there.

Christmas Day, 01:23 AM

“Wake up!”

Roman gasped. Someone was shoving him into the couch cushions.

“He’s here!” Virgil bounced on his shoulder again, almost knocking the laptop to the ground.

“Okay! Jeez, I’m up. I’m up!”

Virgil was already gone, shoving his boots on while a taxi drove away outside leaving two figures in the darkness with their bags. By the time Roman was on his feet, Janus was shouldering through the door with a backpack and giant suitcase, a cute boy following just behind.

“What is up, king?” Roman and Janus clasped hands and half hugged. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, you know.” Janus shrugged off the bag. “This is my boyfriend. Nico, this is my cousin, Roman.”

Nico stifled a yawn and waved. “Pleasure to meet you, Roman!” Virgil came in setting down two more bags and nudged Janus.

“I thought we all agreed not to bring dates again after what happened last-”

“Oh, sweetheart, you must be exhausted!” Roman interrupted as he picked up one of the bags. “I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”

“Thank you so much, our stuff took forever to load off the train.” Nico started to follow him.

“Hands to yourself, Ro,” Janus hissed after them. “I like this one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roman grinned, disappearing around the corner into the hallway. Nico hesitated.

“What…?”

Janus waved him off. “I’ll tell you later.” When they were both out of sight, he turned to Virgil.

“It looks like half the county’s parked in our front yard. Is dad up?”

“He didn’t stay.” Virgil shrugged. “He got into a fight with Titi last night and left after an hour.”

“I see…” Janus sighed, looking down the hall for a moment. “Can’t break tradition now, can we?” He smiled up at his little brother. “Did you get taller?”

Virgil answered by way of a bear-hug, squeezing the breath out of him.

“I missed you, too, Virge.”

Christmas Day, morning-ish

“Merci, Maman! Thank you!” Everyone spoke over each other, unwrapping the sweaters she had made for each of them.

“Yellow was very, uh, popular this year, no?” She teased them. “I hope that you like them.”

“Mine does not have yellow, it’s gold.” Roman corrected everyone. Aunt Patty scolded him. Janus laughed.

“Don’t complain, Roman, yellow is just the superior color,” said Janus, wrestling his own sweater on.

“Yours is more black than yellow!” Roman pointed out. Janus’ head popped up through the collar.

“Did I say yellow? I meant ‘black’. Black is the superior color.”

“Black’s not even a color,” Roman called after Janus shimmying away to grab a cookie with Nico in the kitchen. He came back a second later.

“Why does this cookie look like it’s frosted with vomit?” Janus held one up, looking affronted.

“Don’t suppress my creativity!” Remus shouted from under the tree.

Christmas Day, sometime, who cares anymore?

Logan stood in the hallway, reading an email from Virgil, sent at three that morning. It was lists of hearing aids, their pros and cons, and prices. And another email from Janus a few minutes ago with links on how to get disability funding. That would explain Virgil’s note at the end...

I love you. Please don’t be mad. I told Janus.

He rubbed a hand over his face and chuckled. Had he really thought he was going to keep this a secret for even a day around those two? He pocketed the phone for now and walked through the house.

There was Patton and Roman watching a girl in a beret talk on youtube. Roman had a horrified look on his face. Janus was in the kitchen teaching Alec how to play chess, and not going easy on the kid at all. Logan peeked downstairs. There were Virgil and Remus and Nico, playing charades with the aunties. Remus was making some obscene gesture that had Aunt Mel on the floor laughing and spilling her wine, and Aunt Patty was yelling at both of them.

Logan wandered to the couch and plopped down. It’s a Wonderful Life, was playing on the television. Logan hummed along with the closed captioning as the characters celebrated saving George Bailey from false charges. The vibrations in his chest felt right.

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet

For days of auld lang syne

The End.

@sanderssidesgiftxchange @kieraelieson

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keen2meecha · 5 years ago

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Novel Prep Tag: gifted

Thanks for tagging me, @aziz-writes! You’re a gem as always!

Note: I’m talkative, so most of my side comments are crossed out don’t mind me

First Look

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

After nearly failing the application test, a young girl rejected by a superpowered society for not having a superpower* of her own is accepted into Falks, a school that teaches kids how to be superheroes. But after an attack on the school nearly kills her and her classmates, she must learn to work with her new friends before one of her oldest friends is lost forever.

(*’superpowers’ in this universe are called Gifts, and those who have them are called Gifted. The minority who don’t have Gifts are called Ungifted. The title is ironic and also a reference to a running joke Sofia has with herself)

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Novella, single book, book series, etc.)

It’s the first book in a series! Right now I have four books, but since I’m a chronic overwriter, that may or may not have to be extended to five books.

3. What’s your novel’s aesthetic?

Honestly? Aesthetics aren’t really my thing, so I’m not sure. Maybe soft warm colors, that surprised flutter in your chest when someone gives you a thoughtful present, the ache after yet another workout, that scratchy feeling in your throat when your right on the edge of crying but no one else can tell? This started out as a lighthearted superhero story I swear-

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

If you’re an anime fan, you’ll probably look at the general premise of this and some of the basic details of some of the characters and go “Wait a second, that’s a lot like My Hero Academia” and listen. I know. It’s not the same plot though, I promise! Really, at this point, I’d like to think that it’s undergone so many changes that the two are pretty decently removed, but *shrugs*. I’m not as pressed about it anymore.

I was also loosely inspired by Harry Potter, simply because my book also takes place throughout a school year, so I’m using Harry Potter as a frame of reference for pacing (theoretically). That being said, trans rights and fuck JK Rowling am I right?

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for the novel

For the sake of saving space, I’ll not do that this go around. But imagine fireworks, a freshly brewed cup of tea, and an overwhelmingly expensive weight room and you’ve got a pretty good image of three important things in this book.

Main Characters

6. Who is your protagonist?

Sofia Smith! The Ungifted girl with a chip on her shoulder! Also an utter jock who usually wears athleisurewear and trust me, I’m as thrilled as you are about that. I don’t work out! I don’t even know what a healthy workout routine looks like! What have I done-

7. Who is their closest ally?

I’d say it’s a toss-up between Leona Kita, a girl she meets during the application tests who quickly becomes her new best friend and is not all that she seems, and Romilly Quirke, a teacher at Falks with whom she develops a close mentorship and is not all that she seems

8. Who is their enemy?

In the beginning, it’s Kyran ‘Kruze’ Cinege, Sofia’s childhood friend-turned-enemy. However, the turning point of the novel is when it’s revealed that while she and Kruze are always fighting (physically or not), there’s someone out there who’s actively trying to kill her and that person might be a more pressing threat than Kruze.

You may also see me occasionally mention The Prophet’s Daughter, who, like all of the important antagonists in this series, hilariously still doesn’t have an actual name. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

9. What do they want more than anything?

To become the top Hero it’s not bnha you weeb

10. Why can’t they have it?

She’s Ungifted, so no one believes she can do it. Not only that, but also every single other person in her class at Falks is highly qualified - they’re the most promising kids in the country, after all - and also highly motivated to do the same, so she’s got... a lot of competition.

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

That she can hold up the weight of the world on her own - worse, that she has to hold up the weight of the world on her own. Among other things

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

Not an artist, but I can freely say that Sofia’s face claim is Amandla Stenberg (especially Hunger Games era Amandla Stenberg because, you know, high school).

Plot Points

13. What is the internal conflict?

She’s desperately lonely, but to admit she needs other people is to admit weakness, and to admit weakness is to admit defeat - something she absolutely cannot do. I mean, not really and it’s okay to ask for help, but she doesn’t know that. We’re working on it.

14. What is the external conflict?

Sofia is fighting the entire world to become a Hero and also someone is trying to kill her and her classmates.

Oh and each book revolves around her relationship (platonic or otherwise) with one of what I call the ‘core five’ changing and developing in a radically game-changing way. In this book, it’s her and Kruze struggling to come to terms with elements of their past and maybe overcome their conflict to become friends again...? Except their both stubborn assholes and have been fighting for so long they can’t remember how to exist in the same room without one of them blowing up eventually (literally, in Kruze’s case) (I’ll probably talk more about the core five in a different post tbh)

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

Oof. Well. If someone died on her watch, that’d be pretty bad for her. Good thing that’ll never happen though! Haha...ha...hm.

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

Of this story? Shit maybe they weren’t after me after all. The story as a whole? Wait, you’re my what?

17. Do you know how it ends?

I actually have the epilogue of the last book already planned out! I will cry when I actually write it. But the end of the main plotline? Eh... I know who all is involved, and what all of the characters have evolved into at that point. But how Sofia and co. actually defeat the BBEG? I am... less sure.

18. What is the theme?

In this book specifically: it’s okay to step back and ask for help when you’re struggling - just because you can’t do it on your own doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be where you are.

In the overall series: something something found family something the power of friendship.

19. What is a recurring symbol?

Oh damn, this is a really good question. In fact, since I’m still in first draft mode (although I did write maybe a good quarter or so of a zero draft) I don’t think any have really emerged that I’ve noticed yet? But I guess I’ll come back and update this if I think of anything.

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)

It’s set in a very fancy, very modern private school that’s on the edge of a city somewhere near Washington D.C. I’m... not great at describing environments/settings, though, so that’s all you get haha

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

Oh yeah, plenty. I have this whole book outlined, actually, on a chapter-by-chapter level! I got excited and also bored during my three-hour-interim between classes, and there was a whiteboard just asking to be filled... I even have some disconnected scenes from future books floating around in my mind - some incredibly emotional and poignant, some glorified shitposts. Ah, writing. It’s such a magnificent hobby.

22. What excited you about this story?

The characters! No joke, there are sixteen kids in the Falks class including Sofia, and every single one of them has their own complex backstories, motivations, and character arcs - not to mention I’ve spent a significant portion of time outlining each of their Gifts and figuring out how exactly they work. I could ramble about any of them for hours.

And that’s not even mentioning Sofia’s family, the villains, the teachers... I just really love every single character in this book!

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!

Step one: watch or read something. Anything. A movie, another book, a commercial, a music video, a tiktok, I’m not kidding just about anything will do. Step two: think ‘oh, I could do that better’. Step three: jot down some early lines or general ideas. Step four: leave it to stew for a little while as you think ‘oh jeez maybe I can’t do it as well as I thought’. Step five: get suddenly inspired on it and feverishly carve out several rough chapters. Step six: let it stew some more. Step seven: get newly inspired, realize how much has changed in your mind about that earlier draft, call that the zero draft, and actually do an outline this time. Step eight: ...Write it for realsies this time!

Whew, that was a doozie! Super fun though! So, according to the rules, you’re supposed to tag the same number of people as questions you answered. So there are 23 questions, and it turns out I’ve got exactly 23 people who (I don’t think) aren’t opposed to tag games, so here, have something besides a last line tag for once! Enjoy!

REMEMBER! You are under no obligation to do this - especially since this one can seem overwhelming. I’ll be thrilled if you do it, but I won’t be disappointed or upset if you pass.

Anyways, tagging: @alcego-writes, @alanwrites, @ajbrooks-writes, @evergrcen, @jewellsfrommaruss, @brookswriting, @signedjordan, @writhoelogy, @the-violet-writer, @dustylovelyrun, @linarious, @cookiecutterwrites, @honeyprincerising, @acaptainandhisrunaway, @angelolytle, @dogwrites, @mxxnwishes, @magicalwriting, @bisexual-in-progress, @writerfae, @ocmaker, @fullydevoted, @hanboggsbooks

#tagged #and p l e a s e hit me up if you wanna opt out of tag games #or even just one type of tag game #but yeah #this was a lot #but it was fun!#there were some thing that I genuinely hadn't thought about before #can this function as my wip intro?#(kidding)#but there's a lot of info here #anyways i crave validation so drop a like if you read this whole thing #and i will smile for the rest of the day #edit: i CANNOT believe tumblr didnt tag aziz right #damnit #should be fixed now tho #sorry

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zeromorph · 5 years ago

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whew.

the shelter has gotten enough cats out to adoption or foster homes—we're down to under forty on-site—that for now, they're closing the cattery to volunteers.

intellectually, I know this is a good thing, and I hope we get enough dogs out that they also don't need volunteers coming in for shelter maintenance anymore; emotionally, I am both glad about it (I love! my city!) and already desperately missing my kids and my supervisors.

the rabbit shelter is a much smaller operation, so things are continuing largely as usual there, aside from staggering shifts so we don't come into contact with each other (and cleaning every surface we might have even looked at sideways before we leave the place). the rabbits don’t have a single clue that anything about life is different and being around them is very soothing.

one of the other Tuesday volunteers works for Amazon and has been pulling close-to-60-hour weeks; she says that she's being paid well and she wants to pick up as many hours as she can while she can, which I get, but she's also exhausted, and I worry about her. the third Tuesday volunteer and I are trying to pick up as much of her work as we can so she can get some rest.

tangentially: I’ve started wearing a scarf there because masks are (of course) in short supply (I’m allergic to hay) (I’m also allergic to cats*. the things we do for love.), and have learned that the masks they keep on hand are definitely not sized correctly for me, haha. the scarf is 300% more uncomfortable but I don’t sneeze at all wearing it, it’s like magic.

*only some cats, to be fair! depends on how much they make of some specific protein--it seems to actually not be the usual one, Fel d 1, because Siamese and Balinese cats produce less of that but tend to be the cats I’m most allergic to. anyway, I’m usually fine as long as I don’t pet cats and immediately rub my eyes, or wake up to find that one has slept in front of my face all night. (looking directly at you, cat I petsit sometimes who loves to smoosh right up against my throat.) (it’s okay, I still love you.)

non-shelter-wise,

have probably spent more time on the phone in the last two weeks than in the last several months combined. it’s good to hear my friends’ voices.

(it would be good if my childhood best friend was not 1749 miles away.)

(moving to New York: really, really, for real I swear really in my future. not immediately, obviously! depending on how things go, maybe not even remotely soon! but I’m mad at all 1749 of those miles.)

theoretically excited about TMA returning! intellectually know that I'm going to need to wait until way more of the season is out before I listen because I found listening to it week-to-week stressful enough under usual circumstances.

I'm in the middle of several books at once because what is focus right now, but I will return with further reading reviews! for now: I am very much enjoying Shadow of the Fox by Julie Kagawa. Yumeko is a kind soul and she deserves joy.

#plague anchorite challenge #in which Ruth makes text posts

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charissekenion · 5 years ago

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Several reasons why you’re dealing with skin issues during lockdown

I think I can say with some conviction that every single person I know has seen some kind of skin issue occur during lockdown. And don’t get me started on those of us who have to deal with skin complaints on the regular.

As a regular subscriber to the Time Of The Month Hormonal Breakout Club, I’m used to dealing with temperamental skin. But a couple of weeks before lockdown, things got different. Just a month before lockdown I was loving the effect that my Dermatica subscription prescription was having on my skin. That every other night, with a night or two of Paula’s Choice Skin Perfecting 2% BHA Liquid Exfoliant, and my skin was looking good. It felt so smooth. But then it didn’t. I noticed a rash on my neck, jaw line and cheeks. The only time I’d seen something similar in the past was when I had gone overboard with a Glycolic Acid Toner. Tons of tiny little bumps came up. My skin didn’t feel irritated at all, which made things even more weird. In a Carrie Bradshaw tone, I asked myself: “what has changed in my life recently?”

#1 You’re stressed; your skin’s stressed Whew, life is really throwing everything at us right now. Turn on the TV and it’s all about the latest Covid-19 related ‘numbers’; scroll through Twitter and it’s a war zone of everyone telling everyone else what a piece of shit human they are. Scroll through Instagram and you’re likely to come across a still taken from a video of George Floyd being murdered by a Minneapolis police officer that comes with no trigger warning.

It’s a lot.

And it keeps coming, in waves. For me, it comes in the form of tension, all along my jaw, and it lasts for days, ending up in the form of the most intense, painful headaches. When I finally get out of bed, I feel drunk. I haven’t been drinking, but I wish that I had. Instead it’s like my body has been through so much, it needs another 10 hours of sleep to get all the chemicals back in order.

Every time our eyes see something triggering, our body goes into flight or fight mode, readying us to get away. It’s your body trying to protect you, and, due to current events, it’s going through this function several times a day. Each and every time this happens, the chemicals/hormones within you get stirred up, but as there is no actual reason for you to ‘take flight’, so that energy/adrenalin gets reabsorbed, creating tension and confusion in the body. The result? Equally confused skin. What can you do? Protect your energy when you can. No-one’s telling you to go bury yourself under the duvet until 2021, but the odd day under there, spent with your favourite books and no phone, will do you the world of good.Social media is not going ANYWHERE, so please, for your spirit, delete your account for a day, or just turn your phone off. Failing that, try some breathing techniques to bring yourself back into the here and now, because that’s all there is.

#2 You’re dehydrated I know, you probably thought that by being indoors more often you’d easily slam it when it came to staying hydrated, right? Instead, that pint glass you filled up this morning is probably still sitting there, because you’re taking it for granted that you’ll get it done. I mean, what else is there to do during lockdown… While there’s much push and pull on whether drinking more water is good for your skin, the fact is, you need to hydrate your body, period. As your skin is the body’s largest organ, it only makes sense that it’s gonna need hydrating too, but actually, it’s at the bottom of the list when it comes to how your body distributes the water. Your brain and blood get first dibs on the water you ingest, so if you’re sticking with one litre a day, it’s highly likely that your skin could be looking dull and lacklustre. Speaking from personal experience, I can literally feel when I’m dehydrated; it often starts with a headache, and my skin will feel almost papery dry, and I get minimum 2.5 litres per day. Whether you believe in the whole’ 4 litres a day for glowing skin’ thing or not, I’m pretty sure that if you try and drink even 300ml per hour while you’re awake (that’s a Coke can!) you’ll be sufficiently hydrated. I’m not telling you to go drink crazy amounts - just enough to make you go pee more frequently. What can you do? Whatever your water intake is currently, tell yourself you’re going to increase it by 50%. Then measure out that water into how ever many glasses that is, or into a large jug, and keep it on display. Every time you get up to do anything - like go to the fridge - drink a glass. Speaking of pee…

#3 You’re blocked up, down there… Let’s talk shit. No, but really; the amount of articles I’ve read talking about ‘Lockdown Skin’ and ‘How Quarantine Affects Your Skin,’ and no-one is talking about poo. So let me do it for them. If you are now sitting down for prolonged periods of time, more than ever, your digestion is gonna take a hit. But really it should be taking a… Gosh sorry, let me focus. With our commutes to and from work gone, and no more morning drop-offs and evening pickups for the kids, and definitely no extra trips to the shops, the cinema or any activity that you’d usually do, we are definitely moving less. Add to that the fact that the only place we’re visiting on the regular is likely to be the fridge for another snack, and we’re more than likely adding way more sugar or junk food than usual to our diet. On a good, pre-Corona day, you could probably put away a Five Guys meal no problem; but during lockdown, when you’re ordering simply because you don’t have any desire to do ANYMORE WASHING UP, and your poor digestion starts to slow down. On a ‘regular’ day, digestion is no quick thing - especially if you eat meat, it can take hours - but if we’re just sitting there, there’s nothing to get things up and moving. So we slow down, we start to feel sluggish, then we realise, we haven’t had a bowel movement for five days, and it’s easy to understand why your skin’s looking angry. What can you do? Set a timer for yourself; if you’re now working from home, like the vast majority of us, it’s vital to take regular breaks. Set a timer for an hour or 45 minutes, then reward yourself by getting up, stretching, moving around, walking, drinking some water. Spend at least 5-10 minutes away from your work environment, then get back to it. Throw a couple of workouts or long walks in, and you’ll be in a better position to get things moving down there.

#4 Your skin’s not getting the air it’s used to It’s not just movement that we’re missing out on by no more commuting to work - it’s fresh air too. I think one of the biggest ‘little things’ that many of us have realised we take for granted, is pure, unadulterated, no-time-limits fresh air. Feeling the sun on your face, getting that vitamin D, and just being able to breathe in gulps of air, can have a huge effect on our skin, but also our mood. Also, think about what else happens when we’re out and about; all those tiny human interactions, like saying hi to a barista or chatting to someone in the supermarket, can add up to us just feeling better about our day. The air indoors has also changed; at the start of lockdown many of us were having the central heating on all day here in the UK, because it was so cold. That’s a skin dehydrator all by itself. Now that the weather’s warmed up a lot, we’re now struggling with another form of dehydration! What can you do? Now that lockdown measures have eased, take advantage of your time outside. Maximise that fresh air and go for a run, grab a skipping rope or play a ball game with your new-found ‘friend bubble’. All at the correct social distance, obviously - don’t be a dick.

#wellness #selfcare #George floyd #skin issues #lockdown #depression #hydration #acne

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lazyyogi · 6 years ago

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the liminal tornado between 3rd and 4th year

Wow I just got put through the mill.

On Wednesday I had an eight hour simulated clinical exam. I had to drive three hours to Philadelphia because that was the closest testing center. I left Tuesday and spent the night in Philly.

Twenty minutes before I hit the road, my iphone went dead. I was mid-text and it just went black. I frantically tried all the reset techniques. All it did was show the apple icon. About to head to Philly for this standardized exam and I suddenly lost a huge resource.

So I picked up my friend and we drove to Philly. The airbnb we got was not as advertised. The place was a disaster and there was no AC while the temp was 90 degrees. It was in a dangerous neighborhood and there were homeless people sleeping on the doorstep. Also, in my sudden onset iphone shookness, I forgot to pack deodorant and a change of underwear.

I got a total of 2 hours of sleep the night before the exam. The suffocating heat made it difficult to get any rest. Luckily the exam went smoothly (I think) and afterwards we drove back home.

When I finally got back, I was exhausted. I had taken my final exam of 3rd year and finished by OBGYN rotation the previous Friday and I had been going nonstop since then. Upon returning home, my girlfriend came over and we watched a scary movie and drank wine and relaxed.

Then afterwards we did something I had been wanting to do for a while now: we shaved my head! I have been losing my hair since early on in college. And while it took me several years to stop feeling insecure about it, I never really liked the way I looked. I knew shaving my head would eliminate the issue. No hair, no problems. But I never had the guts to do it. My unbelievably supportive girlfriend volunteered to do it herself. She loves the result and I couldn’t be happier!

So, this coming Monday I will begin my fourth and final year of medical school by starting the first of three months rotating at different hospitals in my chosen field, Otolaryngology. With the few days I have left before then, I tied up some loose ends and tried to get rest and spend time with my girlfriend.

This inbetween period between third and fourth year is physically disorienting. I’ve felt groggy, out-of-it, tired, and pulled in many directions but all these details I have to juggle. Stuff my school wants me to do, stuff these three hospitals/schools I’m visiting want me to do, applications for residency after med school, balancing my own finances and personal life, and so on.

Yet these uncomfortable and confusing times of transition are also powerful periods of transformation. They often include rites of passage and initiations, sometimes super shitty ones like what I just went through. But whether they are pleasant are unpleasant isn’t the point. The point is the extent to which you can allow it all to happen, to deconstruct and rebuild you.

The dust has yet to settle. I’m still groping about in the cloud kicked up by all this craziness. But there’s nothing I need to do. Dust can’t be made to settle. Only with patience and mindfulness can I allow that to happen on its own, without prolonging it by kicking it up more with my own resistance.

Whew! Onward.

Namaste my friends :D I hope your summer is going well.

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tessatechaitea · 5 years ago

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Black Canary: New Wings #1

Nothing says Seattle more than a fishnetted woman in a blond wig and bustier preparing to kick your ass.

I remember being excited about this series when it came out but I can't remember why I felt excited about it. Is that a metaphor for life? Why can't I feel the joy in the remembrance? I look at it now and just think, "This looks fucking boring." And that's me being boring! Usually I'd say something like, "If this comic book were an imaginary genetic disorder, it would be reverse Prader-Willi Syndrome because I don't want more of it ever." Holy shit that was terrible. Especially since "reverse Prader-Willi Syndrome" is probably Angelman syndrome. And this comic book isn't that at all because it doesn't make me happy or thirsty. I never actually said I was funny! The words, "I have a great sense of humor named Marcus," never passed my keyboard. That's what you chose to believe! But that other thing you believed, the one where I'm a terrible person who would make light of serious genetic disorders for the sake of a truly terrible metaphor? Yeah, that's true. I own that one. "Black Canary" is an anagram for "Crack by anal." I'm suddenly more interested in this comic book because it must secretly be about doing crack through your butthole or else why would that anagram exist? I just realized what I've been doing wrong my entire life. It's more fun to live by Coast to Coast AM midnight caller logic where you believe every thought that enters your head must be true rather than have to live within the confines of reality! The issue begins with the host of a Seattle radio station asking callers this question: "Does migrating gang activity threaten Seattle's Asian neighborhoods?" Probably! I bet it's all that anal crack coming up from Southern California! If you're not a American, I added that so you understand where all the gangs migrate from in the United States. Seattle is too overcast and wet to come up with its own gang activity. Nobody would be threatened by The Puddle-Jumpers or The Caffeine Splashettes or Pike's Place Bass Solos or The Ardent Un-Umbrellaists or We Love Trees, Bitch. At first I was going to be upset about the "migrating gangs" comment because I'm the stereotypical Californian who wound up living in the Pacific Northwest. But it's not totally my fault since my divorced dad moved up here and I spent a lot of time up here and I fell in love with it up here. So I guess that's one thing I can think my father for! The radio host calls for the people in the Asian community to rise up and kick gang ass to help make their streets safer. And he doesn't just talk the talk! He kicks the ass the kicks the ass! Why doesn't that work like "talk the talk"?!

I don't know how the drug dealer managed to give his money to the buyer and get his ass kicked to boot. What a lousy businessman.

Even though I don't recognize her name, I'm glad to see a woman is writing this comic book. That probably means we won't have more than two scenes where Black Canary is wearing a towel or kicking ass in her underwear. Oh wait! I'm a male infused with male gaze! I meant to say, "I'm sad to see a woman is writing this comic book. That probably means we won't have more than two scenes where Black Canary is wearing a towel or kicking ass in her underwear." Whew! I almost betrayed my gender for a second! I must be low on testosterone! I'd better go out on the street and "accidentally" bump into a guy smaller than me so I can start some shit! Okay, I'm back! Did you know small guys are pretty tough? Also, do you think I need to make an appointment with a dentist if several of my teeth feel lose? Do they just naturally stiffen back up if I stop wiggling them with my tongue?! I sit staring at the page following the one I scanned for several minutes. I don't know if it's just too confusing with all that's happening or the kick of testosterone my body just received from the fight. It could also be head trauma from totally winning the fight.

The terrible business man drug dealer is a black guy working for a white supremacist Neo-Nazi. He calls the radio host a China Doll which seems weird although kudos to him for not being gendered in his racial slurs, I guess? According to the footprint patterns on the ground, they were also practicing a dance while wrestling over drug money. The drug dealer admits to having lost his money in a drug deal for the third time this week because I don't even know how that happens. He hands the money to the buyer to let the buyer make the change? Nearby, Dinah can't sleep because the birds outside of her window are too loud and maybe the dancing going on under her window but she looks to the sky when she sticks her head out of the window so what am I supposed to believe? She decides to read some relaxing literature about the feminist politics of housework and then gives up to go practice her judo. That's a fucking lot going on in one page!

Later, Dinah does her budget for the month and discovers Green Arrow is spending too much money on boxing glove arrows. Apparently being a Seattle vigilante doesn't bring in much cash and Dinah has been paying all the bills with her Sherwood Florist flower shop. I guess Oliver Queen didn't have any money in 1991? Maybe Crisis on Infinite Earths wiped out his bank account and he wouldn't get it back until Zero Hour? Anyway, Dinah is pretty pissed with Oliver's spending habits.

I know Dinah is chastising Ollie for being a brutish pig here but technically he wins the argument because she describes his sexing as hot.

Dinah heads up to the Quinault Indian Reservation to get some mystic wisdom from Aunty Wren, an elderly Native American woman. Her advice is "Ask the douchebag for help." It comes across as a critique of Black Canary being too prideful to ask for help because she's a strong woman who doesn't need anybody. But I like to think the point of the advice is this: if Oliver isn't helping out, ask him to help. If he doesn't help out after asking him to, you now know he's a useless piece of unforgivable shit that needs to be thrown in a dumpster. If I don't think that then I have to think this: Oh, sure! Blame the woman for needing to be too strong! How about blaming the man for being a grown ass man child that won't take responsibility without being told to take it after which he'll only grouse about how much he's being nagged. But then again, I don't need any more reasons to dislike Green Arrow than this one: he's a fucking Robin Hood cosplayer with stupid facial hair who fights against modern weapons with a bow and arrows. Aunty Wren introduces Dinah to Gan Nguyen, the radio show host vigilante. He's also an Asian translator for the Quinault. Gan and Dinah flirt a bit while getting to know each other before heading back to Seattle on the ferry. While Dinah is in the toilet, Gan gets jumped by some gang members who have been looking for him. Dinah changes into Black Canary, kicks some ass, and saves the day. Later, Gan is all, "I know it was you who saved me but I won't say that explicitly! Just so you know you can tell me if you want to tell me and I won't say anything but I know and you know I know!" Dinah is all, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." And that's almost the end except for an epilogue that's some pretty damn fine and insightful writing about our country and what the fuck has been going wrong (and gone wrong) with it.

Fucking hell that's good stuff.

Black Canary: New Wings #1 Rating: A. This is why I'm sad comic books are no longer really affordable. In 1991, this comic book was $1.75 which was easily cheap enough to pick it up and see what it was about. Doing so let me read a really great story with a point of view and something to say. If this were on the shelves today at $4.00, the only people giving it a chance would be Black Canary fans. That's a fucking shame and the main problem with print comics today. They're just too fucking expensive to take a chance on anything that isn't already in your fandom alley (or by a writer or artist you love). Not to mention how the cover didn't excite me at all! But I still picked it up to see what was going on with Black Canary and apparently past me liked it as much as current me because I got the whole mini-series and at least a few issues of the series that followed it. Well done, Sarah Byam!

#Black Canary #DC Comics #DC #Sarah Byam #Trevor Von Eeden #Dick Giordano

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mavenmemnon · 5 years ago

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It is the end of another year - which gets me wistful, usually. The New

Year offers a demarcated line indicated the passage of time, and it serves

as a somewhat painful reminder of things that we haven't done that we

said we would. Additionally, though, this is also the end of decade - it

is the end of the teens, and we are moving into the 20s. What a concept.

This gets me thinking about the course of the last ten years and the fact

that in contrast to the rest of my life, I have spent the entirety of

this decade as an adult.

Comparatively, 2000-2010, I began the decade as a child (you could say

pre-teen) , and I distinctly remember sitting in my fathers house in

Jacksonville Florida when the year 2000 came. I had a vague sense of Y2K -

but nothing happened, and it was spoiled a bit by the earlier time code

countries that also didn't have any problems. I was a lump - unformed,

half-formed, by the end of the decade, I was a, or nearing college

graduation, had build social supports, had jobs, and buried relatives. The

breadth of my teens was 2000-2010.

As above, I've been an 'adult' for the entirety of this decade which makes

me introspective. How far I have come, how far I am going. Shiny, new

college graduate me, had no idea of what was to come, so like the previous

decade had all of my teen years, this decade has had all of my working

years except a handful of odd jobs in high school. But working, daily, in

a workplace that is this period.

I am...moderately better off than when I graduated. I haven't moved the

needle on my student debt at all - and I've moved from being impoverished,

to poor, to working poor, I am on the cusp of lower middle class. But how

far have I come? I have moved 1/2 mile in 10 years. I bailed out of law

school (for what I can now recognize as a mental breakdown). The county

paid me just enough to avoid jumping ship earlier, and even then it took

nearly two years to find my current job.

I love this job - I have realized one of my dreams which is I get paid to

think and learn, particularly about process and outcomes. And that's

amazing, but it feels like I have spent the decade stalled *waiting* for

this job. Now, I qualify here because of City Year (which is another thing

I did this decade) and my experience mentoring young people, but there's

nothing about my job that requires the several years of work experience I

have. I'm better for it, but again, in terms of gains, I've spent the last

7 of 10 years in neutral or 1st gear, and only recently been able to claw

some tenable financial security.

But - goddammit - it's precarious AND I've still got a number of bad habits

that I thought I would be done with. Way too much fast food. I'm better

with money, but still have a hard time sacrificing free time for chores.

My weight nor my body issues are anywhere near resolved. I am beginning

the process that people in my life, particularly older people aren't going

to be around forever and that what you don't know when they go, you'll

never know.

I know that often hold myself up to impossible standards - I have to do

this and that, work, and write, and be a union rep and go to school and

clean and learn a new language and and and, in so doing set myself up for

failure. I suppose the fact that I have less tangible proof then other

people contributes - I didn't make an offspring (whew), have only been

published a few times, don't own a house, etc.

So I'm comparing my wants with other people's priorities and there's an

obvious mismatch. I have learned *a lot* but I feel like I'm the same

person only with new bad habits and relieved of some baggage. I can't

provide my own barometer, and because my mind is moving walkway, I can't

remember how I used to think, which makes it hard to compare. I only

started keeping daily pages regularly 4.5 years ago. And non-performative

writing 3 or so. So that's question one (1) have a grown and changed as a

person appreciably (1)a is that growth and change for the positive?

Which goes to the second and more morally thorny question (2): have I done

enough? [to what rubric is the counter-question] I have always had a sense

of earning my rent on earth so to speak - despite introversion I want

deeply for others to be and my utilitarianism makes me want to help lift

others up in counter-point to the invisible advantages I've accrued. I did

City Year, and I was volunteering at the animal shelter, and now I work

for this non-profit. So the equation should be more equal.

But, the more I learn about the world, and history, and listen to the

experiences of the people I serve, it doesn't seem that way. I get to set

in comfortable chair with electricity, heating, groceries, mostly by

virtue of a genetic coin toss. Which goes to 2(a) is this a measure that

matters to anyone other than me? I think if I stopped trying to do

advocacy and learning about things tomorrow I would go crazy. The county

tried to shove me into a data entry box and it made me miserable. Law

School is all about how law does not equal justice, but law for laws sake

- quotidian and without mercy - and that made me suicidal.

I am...haunted by the idea that I haven't done enough. The equation of

deeds and actions is not equal to the suffering of others and that’s just

what I am able to perceive - there is a vast edifice of human suffering

that makes smart phones and diamonds and sneakers. We are all part of this

web and systems - can I ever do enough? You can not serve from an empty

cup - but rest feels like an excuse. And then there's the metric in that

every hour I devote to the service of others pulls me away from friends

and family and the maintenance of my relationships. That's an internal

measure - being 'enough' but as before I'm bad at internal measurements.

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takerfoxx · 6 years ago

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RD Walpurgis Nights 8, Part 7

Then…

“Hey, Kriemhild?”

Kriemhild didn’t looked up. She didn’t react at all. She just stayed where she was, slumped over and staring at her legs, which were splayed over the grey, stone tiles.

“Kriemhild?”

What was the point? They were stuck, trapped in the middle of a waking nightmare, doomed to die quickly of a long fall or slowly of exposure.

“Kriemhild.”

She should have just let them drop. Free them from the barbed wire, yes, but drop down immediately afterward. Then it would all be over. They were going to end up dead anyway, so why not-

“Kriemhild!”

Sighing, Kriemhild brushed the wet locks of hair hanging down around her face and glanced to the side at her companion. “What?” she said.

Homulilly was sitting on her haunches, looking down at where Kriemhild’s legs were lying like soggy noodles. “I’ve been thinking. We’re…pretty strong, right? I mean, stronger than we look.”

“So?”

Homulilly picked up one of Kriemhild’s limp legs. “So how far do you think you can jump with these?”

Kriemhild frowned. “What does it matter? Down is down, and we’d still die if…”

Her voice trailed off. She looked down at the rest of her legs. Three of them curled upward. She waggled their ends.

“Huh.”

Kriemhild stood up. The way her legs were arranged around her was kind of like the wire support of a wide Victorian gown, or a birdcage. She bounced a bit with them experimentally.

“Huh.”

Then she and Homulilly looked back out at the city. Yes, the clock tower they were on was the tallest building, but not by that much. And while the next rooftop was too far to leap for a normal person, it…might not be outside her ability to reach.

Might.

She and Kriemhild exchanged a glance. Then she took a deep breath, hunkered down low, and then pushed herself up with all her might.

Kriemhild shot into the sky like she was strapped to a rocket.

“Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” she screamed, arms flailing and legs writhing like a den of snakes. The roof of the clock tower got smaller and smaller and smaller…

Then it stopped.

And then it started to get bigger again.

“Kriemhild!” Homulilly screamed from below. Kriemhild barely heard her. She was falling and falling and falling as the rooftop rushed up to meet her-

Kriemhild closed her eyes.

Then she stopped.

There had been no impact, no painful collision with the concrete. In fact, as far as she knew, she was still in the air. Still, she kept her eyes closed. Maybe it was like those cartoons when one of the characters would run out over open space but not fall until they actually looked down and saw-

“Kriem-Kriemhild?”

Wait. Come to think of it, she did feel the rooftop. At the ends of her legs, to be exact.

Kriemhild opened her eyes. She had come to a stop a little over a meter before impact and was hovering in place. She glanced this way, and then that way.

All twelve legs were again extended around, arresting her fall and dispersing her momentum.

Somehow, without her thinking about it, she had saved herself on pure reflex.

“Heh,” Kriemhild giggled. “Heh. Hehehehehe. Okay. Okay, th-that was…um, that was…”

“Er, Kriemhild?!”

Kriemhild looked over her shoulder. Then she blushed. Homulilly had fallen back in a heap as Kriemhild had come down toward her and was staring up at Kriemhild’s butt, which was mere centimeters away from her face.

“Oops!” Kriemhild hastily scurried around away from her. “S-Sorry about that.”

Homulilly slowly breathed out. “S’okay,” she said as she sat up. Then she brightened. “And…hey! We might have a way out of here!”

Maybe so, but Kriemhild was still a little dubious about their chances. “It’s still a long way,” she said.

“Better than staying here.”

No arguments there. The two of them went over to the edge of the roof, just behind the gargoyles. Kriemhild lowered herself down, and Homulilly climbed onto her back and wrapped her arms around Kriemhild’s shoulders. Holding tight to her companion’s legs, Kriemhild rose up again.

“I’m not too heavy, am I?” Homulilly asked.

Kriemhild did a couple of experimental bounces. Homulilly was as light as a pillow. “Nope! You’re fine. Just…close your eyes and hold on tight.”

Homulilly didn’t say anything, but her tightened just a little.

Even though she knew it was a bad idea, Kriemhild still shot one last look to the abyss. She gulped. This was going to be incredibly dangerous and terrifying, and if she screwed up, it was going to be a long way to the streets below.

…

Now…

The sky had been iron grey in the morning, but still bright enough to constitute a cheery day.

In the space of only a few hours, that changed.

The clouds had multiplied, growing larger in number and size, choking out the sun until the whole of the land was wreathed in shadow. A powerful wind was blowing in from the sea, bending trees and scattering anything not tied down, increasing ever in strength. Lightning was already starting to course down from above, so far only striking the sea, but it would not be long before it started to seek out targets on the land.

And out in the open Hitomi stood all by herself.

She was on the edge of a sheer cliff, staring down into the sea below. The wind was tearing at her clothes and hair, and she had to brace one foot against a small rock to keep from being forced back. Directly beneath her were several jagged rocks, worn smooth by the waves. The surf was being hurled again and again at the rocks and the stone wall, as if they were an army trying to tear down a fortress’s wall. Even as high as Hitomi was, some of the spray was still reaching her.

The storm was going to be a bad one. And Hitomi had nowhere to go. She had no home, no friends, no place to turn to for shelter.

Pausing her chewing for a moment, she glanced down at the umbrella still clenched in an iron grip. Well, no, she had quite a few places to go. She could come crawling back to the FIB and beg them for forgiveness. She could throw herself to the mercy of Madoka and her friends in hope that they would grant her sanctuary. She could head back to Old Town and figure out where all those homeless girls went when the weather got bad. Honestly, she could go wherever she wanted.

Except she had nowhere she wanted to go. She couldn’t show her face at the FIB again. She couldn’t risk the wrath of Madoka’s friends either. After all, if Homura had been that scary, then she could only imagine what the others were like. And she sure wasn’t going to Old Town! That was completely out of the question!

Maybe she could go find Marisa again. The renegade vagabond probably had a…tent or something. She spent all her time out in the world, so she probably had some sort of ready system for storms. And out of all of Hitomi’s options, she was the least likely to hurt her.

Lightning suddenly split the sky in front of her, striking at the sea. Thunder boomed seconds later.

Hitomi froze, and then started chewing her finger again. No, no, no, no. She couldn’t do any of that. Because even if she found a safe place, she would still be in the same predicament after the storm had passed. Homeless, friendless, without a path or purpose.

Suddenly the distracting pain of her teeth flared up, and Hitomi felt something tickle the top of her mouth. She popped her finger out of her mouth and stared. She had finally managed to break the skin, and now a trickle of green mist was seeping from the wound to get blown into oblivion from the wind, like an emerald thread stabbed into her fingers.

Then she looked back down at the sheer edge, just a few kilometers from her toes.

Well, there was one path she could take, and it was getting more and more appealing. Could people die here? If they destroyed their bodies, broke them beyond repair, what happened then? Would she just simply pass on to wherever her soul was supposed to go in the first place? Was Freehaven and the rest of this crazy world simply a waystop for those who didn’t care to make the whole trip?

Hitomi had to admit, she was starting to want to find out.

Lightning cracked again, closer this time.

Hitomi lifted a foot and started to move it forward. However, as she did so, the wind somehow redoubled in strength, pushing her back. She winced and ended up taking several steps back.

Then her face hardened. No, the storm was right. She couldn’t end it now. She still had her mission, her reason for coming here in a first place. She had traded her soul for a wish, and she was going to see it fulfilled!

The rain started to fall…no, wait, that word is insufficient. The rain wasn’t falling down, it was crashing down, growing stronger and stronger in force until Hitomi felt like she was standing beneath a waterfall.

How appropriate then that she had an umbrella.

Hitomi opened the umbrella’s canopy and set it against the rain. The wind threatened to rip it away from her, but she gripped it with both hands and stood her ground.

“Take me to Sayaka Miki!” she ordered, shouting as loud as she could to be heard over the storm. “Right now!”

Lightning struck a third time, and when the thunder boomed, there was no one to hear it.

…

The gale hit just as they were reaching home.

Holding onto each other’s hand, Homulilly and Gretchen ran as fast as they could as the forest began to bend. Loose leaves and other debris started to take to the air.

“What’s going on?” Gretchen said. “The storm wasn’t supposed to hit until the day after tomorrow!”

“I don’t know,” Homulilly said. “I guess they held it back for too long.”

They hurried across the backyard toward the back door. Once they were inside, Homulilly shut it fast and locked it.

Moments later the side of the house started to get pelted by rain.

“Whew,” Gretchen said. “Just in time.”

Cheese came flapping through the air to land on her head.

“There you are,” she said, reaching up to move him to her arm. “Glad you made it too.”

Ophelia came in from the other room. She looked pretty harried. “Hey, thanks for coming back. Sorry to cut your walk short, but-”

Then she got a look at the rain pelting the windows.

“Oh, what? What the hell?” she said. “That’s not supposed to happen for two more days!”

“We had noticed,” Homulilly said dryly.

Ophelia shook her head. “Jesus. It just figures. Even with magic and alien technology, the weather report still isn’t worth a damn.” She put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Anyway, like Charlotte said, we had a bit of an…incident.”

“We know,” Gretchen said. “Is Candeloro all right?”

“She’s fine, all things considered. We already put her to bed. Charlotte ran out to grab some-”

Then she froze. “Oh. Shit.”

“Huh.”

Ophelia turned toward the front door. “Well, Charlotte ran out to the convenience store to grab some hangover medication and Spiritade for when Candy wakes up.” She sucked in air through her teeth. “Yeah, she’s…probably not happy right now. Damn.”

Gretchen and Homulilly exchanged an uncomfortable look. As unfortunate as Charlotte’s situation might be, there was something else even more pressing.

Homulilly tilted her head meaningfully toward Ophelia. Sighing, Gretchen cleared her throat and said, “Um, Ophelia? There’s something else you need to know-”

Right about then the front door banged open. Lightning crashed, illuminating a panting and haggard silhouette that was standing on the doorstep, water dripping from its limbs and a bag clutched in its hands.

“Why,” Charlotte said as she stumbled into the house. “The fuck. Is it raining now?!”

…

The place Hitomi’s umbrella had taken her was far different than any other place she had seen so far. It was a stark and narrow corridor of steel with a pale blue floor and silvery grey walls and ceiling. The doors were all metal that curved at the angles, and there was a metal railing along each wall.

She shook her head. Well, it made sense that a mermaid would be working on a ship. And didn’t Sayaka say something earlier about hunting for a sea monster? Why the supposed afterlife even had a sea monster, she couldn’t fathom.

Regardless, she was for a reason. She just needed to find Sayaka and…well, she would figure things out from there.

Fortunately, she didn’t need to look far. One of the cabin doors was open down the hall from her, and from it she could hear her long-lost friend’s voice.

“…sounds like it’s bigger and stronger than everyone expected. Probably a side-effect from keeping it back so long for the graduation.”

Hitomi took a deep breath. Then she crept along on tip-toe over to the door.

“Anyway, they said they’re just going to let it get all of its raging out of its system the old-fashioned way. Unfortunately, that means closing down all the docks until it’s done. Which means I am kind of stuck here until that’s over with.”

Raging? Closing the docks? Just how big was this sea monster?

“That’s…God, we have the worst luck sometimes,” said a tinny, yet recognizable voice. It was Ophelia. Hitomi froze. What was she doing here? How was she here?

“Tell me about it,” Sayaka said miserably. “Stupid weather. Couldn’t have waited a week or two before tearing shit up. But no, it just has to go piss all over everything right at the most inconvenient time possible.”

“Well, I mean technically, it was supposed to do its tearing and pissing a few days ago…”

“Oh, you know what I mean. Let me bitch.”

Oh, they were talking about the storm. That made sense. It had been a big one.

Summoning up her courage, Hitomi sidled up to the edge of the door and peeked in.

Mermaid Sayaka was there all right, though her shirt and hat were gone, replaced with the upper part of a black-and-blue wetsuit. She was seated in that spider-legged chair of hers, facing toward a desk. And hovering over the desk was what looked like a glowing computer screen, minus an actual monitor. Though Hitomi couldn’t get a good look from her position, there did seem to be someone’s face on it.

Hitomi quickly retreated out of sight. Oh, Sayaka was talking to one of those sci-fi…holographic…viewscreen…thingies. That made way more sense than having the girlfriend be around.

Well, okay, she just had to wait until Sayaka hung up to talk to her! Hopefully nobody was going to show up before then.

“Are you sure that’s safe though? I mean, you’re kind of stuck out in the middle of the ocean when there’s a fucking hurricane blowing.”

“It’s not quite a hurricane. But anyway, I’m fine. The Aurora Borealis has some kick-ass storm protection. Better than the docks, actually. I’m actually safer here than you guys are back home.”

“Gee, thanks for that thought. But that means you’re stopping the search, right?”

Search? Hitomi’s hands tightened around the umbrella’s handle. Did they mean the search for her?

“Nah, we’re using the submersibles until the topside calms down. Means we can’t cover as big an area, unfortunately. But we’re narrowing that thing’s feeding area down, so there’s that. We’re actually heading back out in about half an hour.”

“Damn.”

“Sorry to disappoint. But we really do need to catch this thing.”

“I know, I know,” Ophelia sighed. “Just…get back safely, okay?”

“Of course I will,” Sayaka said. Then she paused for a worrying long time. “Okay, what’s the part you’re not telling me?”

Hitomi tensed up.

“What are you talking about?” Ophelia said with forced cheerfulness. “You’re the one in peril!”

Peril? Peril from what? From her? Did they really think that she was that dangerous?

Then Hitomi glanced at the steel ship around her. Maybe it was the storm, or maybe this sea monster. If so, then coming here was probably an even worse idea than she had thought.

“Ophelia…” Sayaka sighed.

“Ugh, damn you and your weird perception.” Ophelia paused for a moment before saying, “You know, maybe this should wait until you’re back. I don’t want you distracted.”

“Ophelia!”

“Fine.” Ophelia sighed. “Okay, well, don’t freak out, but a couple hours ago, Candeloro had a relapse.”

Hitomi blinked in confusion. Okay…that wasn’t exactly what she had thought she was going to hear. Candeloro? That was…Mami Tomoe’s new name, right?

“Had a…” Sayaka repeated in confusion. Then her chair made a rattling sound as she apparently jerked up in surprise. “Wait, she fell off the wagon?”

“Yeah. Me and Charlotte had to pick her up from the pub. She was kind of a mess.”

Oh, a drinking relapse then. Their friend Candeloro had a drinking problem apparently, and something made her succumb to temptation.

Hitomi swallowed. She had a good idea of what that something was.

“Oh no,” Sayaka said softly.

“She’s sleeping it off, and we’re all with her, so she should be fine. But I guess the stress of everything just got to her.”

“Shit. This must’ve hit her harder than she let on.”

“I think that applies to everyone.” Ophelia said grimly. She hesitated, and then said, “I had kind of a weird episode when I was practicing with my spear.”

“Yeah, and I had this weird mental hiccup when I was listening to my music earlier. And yes, it was violin music.”

Hitomi gasped. Then she clamped a hand over her mouth when she realized how loud it had been. Sayaka didn’t seem to hear though.

Still…violin music? Was she remembering? Was this happening?

“This is getting scary,” Ophelia said.

“Yeah. Yeah, no arguments here.” The two stopped talking for a moment, and when Sayaka’s voice returned, there was a slight edge of suspicion. “Um, say, things didn’t turn out the same way they did the last time Candeloro got really drunk, did they?”

Another pause, longer this time. “Okay. That’s not fair,” Ophelia said at last.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Sayaka sighed.

Hitomi frowned. She leaned in a little closer.

“It’s fine,” Ophelia sighed, though her voice indicated that whatever it was that Sayaka’s comment had referenced, she was not at all pleased that it had been brought up. “This whole thing has us all on edge. Which…brings us to the other problem.

“Oh, hell,” Sayaka sighed.

“Okay, brace yourself. Apparently your old friend Hitomi ran away from the FIB.”

This time, Hitomi had to clamp both hands over her mouth to keep from making a sound.

“What? How?”

“Apparently she can teleport! Who knew, right?”

“Oh, that is so not good.”

Hitomi felt like she had been kicked in the stomach.

“Yeah, apparently she had a little sit-down with Gretchen until Homulilly showed up and chased her off. Can’t wait to find out how much damage that caused.”

“Wait, why didn’t Gretchen…”

“Because she’s Gretchen, and Gretchen is compassionate to a fault. That kid, sometimes I swear…”

Hitomi’s fingers curled into shaking fists. Was she really that bad after all?

“So, let me get this straight: since I left not five hours ago, Candeloro fell off the wagon for the first time in years, Hitomi got loose and is now free to knock any one of our minds loose with forbidden knowledge, and Gretchen just up and…let her?”

“Didn’t you see her face at the meeting the other day? As soon as Charlotte mentioned her having a baby brother I knew something like this was going to happen.

“If I told you that this was really starting to scare me, would you laugh at me?”

Sayaka…was scared of her. They were all scared of her.

But why?! Okay, she knew why: Homura Akemi had been pretty to the point on that. But why was it that way in the first place? She had died to find her friends, and now, just by showing up, she was somehow destroying their lives.

“If I told you that I’m scared too, would it make it easier?” Ophelia said. “Anyway, I didn’t want to dump this on you, given the job you still have to do, but-”

“No, no, it’s better that you did. Besides, my part is honestly pretty minor in all this. Odds are, someone else will spot the damned thing before I do, so…”

Her voice trailed off. For a moment, Hitomi started to wonder if she had hung up, but then she said, “So. Hitomi can teleport, huh?”

“Watch your back. And tail. She might show up over where you are.”

“Good thing she didn’t a couple hours ago. She would’ve ended up at the bottom of the ocean. Unless she did and we just didn’t notice.”

Hitomi swallowed. She hadn’t even thought of that.

“There’s a cheery thought. Are you going to be all right with this?”

“I…guess? I don’t know, supposed old friend suddenly pops up out of nowhere, and I guess she might be the reason we all witched out? And she’s out there looking for me? Like, I don’t even know how to begin to start processing that.”

“You’re not…curious about it, are you?”

Hitomi held her breath.

“Well, I mean…”

“Tavi…”

Tavi? What was a Tavi? Was that some kind of weird phrase they had around-

Oh. Oh, wait. Sayaka’s…new name. Oktavia, wasn’t it? So it was probably just a cute little nickname.

Yes, a cute little nickname between two people in love with one another who had been living a perfectly nice little life right up until Hitomi showed up to ruin everything…

“I know, I know,” Sayaka sighed. “It’s just, you gotta feel for the kid, you know?”

And now Sayaka was feeling sorry for her! This just kept getting better all the time.

“Feeling for her is one thing. Putting yourself in danger is another. Promise me you’ll play it safe. If she somehow does show up, don’t engage, okay?”

“You make her sound like an invading army or something.”

“More like a trojan horse. Look, just be careful, okay? I don’t want to hear about you surviving the sea monster just to get psychically walloped by Little Miss Disaster Area.”

“I will. Take care of Candy, okay?”

“Promise.”

There was a winking out sound as Sayaka ended the call.

Hitomi slowly breathed out. What was she going to do? She couldn’t talk to Sayaka now, not after hearing all that. What if she did end up hurting her somehow? She had already apparently already wrecked Homura Akemi’s mental health and made a complete stranger succumb to alcoholism. And here she was, about to do the same to Sayaka when her friend was already in danger…from sea monster, apparently.

Hitomi couldn’t decide whether to be more distraught or confused by that last detail. Her long-lost friend Sayaka Miki was now a mermaid who professionally hunted sea monsters. How exactly was one supposed to even begin to react to something like that?

Hitomi was out of her depth. She was completely in over her head. She felt like she was sinking into a deep sea, and the harder she tried to swim for the surface, the deeper it became. Around every corner was some new rule that was completely terrifying, made no sense whatsoever, or went out of its way to screw her over. It was like everything had been deliberately set up just to tear her heart out.

It would have been better had Sayaka and Madoka not been around at all. In time, she could have adjusted, could have come to terms with how things were. But instead, this new world was so cruel that it dangled them right in front of her, tempting her with the one thing she had literally given up her soul to obtain, only to tell her that she was some kind of terrible person for reaching for it. It wasn’t fair!

Maybe she should…no. No, she couldn’t leave now, not when she was so close! Sayaka was right there! All she had to do was go in and…

And what? Sayaka had already been warned about her. She would probably just sound the alarm or something. Besides, anything Hitomi had to say would just make things worse for her! She had already wrecked enough of their lives as it was.

But surely, a simple “sorry” ought to be fine. Just say that she was sorry for the burden she had put upon her when they were both alive. It didn’t matter if Sayaka didn’t understand what she was talking about, the real Sayaka would still hear. She would still understand, right?

But what if she didn’t? Or worse, what if she did hear, and that triggered…whatever it was that Homura Akemi was going through? What if her selfish desire to be forgiven just made things even worse?

Hitomi balled up her hands into fists and banged them against the ground. “Damn it!” she said, swearing for what was probably the first time in her life. “Just decide! For once in your stupid life, just-”

“Uh, what?”

Hitomi froze. Oh no. That had been out loud.

“Someone there?”

Hitomi’s hands started shaking. Without even thinking about it she started to chew on her finger.

Then there came the gentle hissing of the mechanical chair’s legs. A moment later they stepped out of the cabin, bringing the mermaid with them. “Hey,” Sayaka said. “Sorry, but…”

Then their eyes met.

Sayaka frowned. “Er, sorry, but have me met? I don’t…”

Then she stopped talking. Her eyes went wide.

“Oh,” she said. “Uh…”

Hitomi swallowed. “Hi,” she said in a tinny voice.

“You…You’re…”

Hitomi slowly nodded. “I…I…uh…”

Sayaka looked around nervously. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Um. Shit. L-Listen, could you please not…”

Oh God, Sayaka was actually scared of her. She was scared of her! Hitomi had traveled across the boundary of life and death itself to a whole new world to find her, and when she did, her friend was scared of her!

And she had good reason to be.

Hitomi closed her eyes and sighed. She had done enough harm. It was time to go.

She grabbed her umbrella and stood up. Sayaka stiffened, almost as if she were anticipating an attack.

“I’m sorry,” Hitomi said. That much should be all right, right? “For everything.”

Then, before Sayaka could reply, Hitomi opened her umbrella and whisked herself away.

…

Become a witch…or die.

Mami Tomoe awoke to the sound of falling rain.

She was lying somewhere in darkness. Not complete darkness; there were still shadows and silhouettes, but dark enough. Where exactly, she couldn’t say. It was somewhere…soft. And warm.

A bed. Her bed? No. No, it was too big. Her bed was a simple twin, the one she was in was easily large enough for two people and then some. Then it must be someone else’s bed, someone else’s…

No. No, wait. She…it was her bed, the one that she shared with…she shared with…her, her wife!

I’m married?

Well, of course she was married! To…To Charlotte! Yes, she was married to Charlotte, and they lived in a big house with…

Kyo-

…with Ophelia and…

-yaka-

…and Oktavia! And their young friends…

-adok-

…Gretchen and…

Homu-

…Homulilly had just moved in as well.

As for herself, she…she…

She sighed. She had done it. She had fallen off the wagon. She had gotten herself blackout drunk. So many years of self-control, and now look where her one slip had gotten her. Humiliated, miserable, dry as a desert, sick to her stomach, and oh her head…

She groaned and pressed a palm to her forehead. She hadn’t even remembered to stay hydrated. It was the one thing she always got on her friends about whenever they went out drinking. Don’t forget hydration! You don’t want to wake up with a splitting headache.

Well, now she was the one whose head felt like it was filled with feverish pudding that was swimming and swirling and sloshing this way and that, filled with regrets and names that made no sense to her, names like…

Mam-

…like..

-omo-

…uh…

Candeloro blinked. The name had simply evaporated out of her head, as had the others. She tried to snatch them from disappearing into oblivion, but they were simply gone.

She sighed. Oh well, it was probably just hangover-induced delirium. She had enough to worry about to go clinging to dissipating dreams.

Then she looked to her left. There seemed to be something on the nightstand, something that wasn’t supposed to be there.

Squinting, she reached over to touch it. It was vaguely cylindrical, with a tapered top and a fat body, and it was cold…

Oh. A Spiritade bottle. And next to it was a bottle of what was probably something to help with her headache.

Candeloro sighed. Charlotte and Ophelia had brought her home, tucked her in, and had left her everything she needed to deal with her hangover. And all that after she had let them down. She didn’t deserve any of them, she really didn’t.

Part of her wanted to just leave it all for later and go back to sleep, but no. She couldn’t hide from this. She had been the one to screw up, now she needed to face the music.

Candeloro groggily fumbled around until she found the cord of her bedside lamp. The sudden onslaught of light stabbed into her eyes and seemed to ignite the tempest inside of her head. Wincing, she grabbed the bottles of pills and blearily squinted at the label. Okay, this stuff was for her stomach, and that…and that one was for her headache.

The lids had already been helpfully cracked (thank God, her ribbons really weren’t suited for that sort of thing), so she shook out a couple of each, popped them into her mouth, swallowed, and then gulped down two-thirds of the Spiritade in one go.

Oh, it felt so good going down…

Once she felt well enough, she got up. Her legs were still a little woozy and her sense of balance a bit off, but she managed to make her way to the door and open it.

Most of the lights in the house were off, and it was surprisingly dark outside. What was more, the rain was now coming down hard. Wasn’t that supposed to not happen for a couple more days? How long had she been out?

Candeloro rubbed her head. She could figure that out later, but for now, there was another matter to take care of, and was that if she didn’t pee right now, then her drunken escapade wasn’t the only humiliation her friends were going to have to clean up.

She stumbled her way into the bathroom and toward the toilet. Moments later she was sighing in relief.

She flushed, and then went over to the sink. Her ribbons were fortunately waterproof, so she wet their ends, lathered them with soap, and washed her face, trying to clean away the last of the sickly feeling. There was still some mouthwash, so she gargled that and spat.

Then she looked at herself in the mirror.

She looked…much the same as always. Round face; long, blonde hair that hung around her shoulders; large golden eyes with heavy lids. True, she looked a little more haggard than usual, but that was to be expected.

What was odd was how disquieting her own reflection was making her.

Candeloro squinted. Her reflection squinted in turn. She tilted her head one way, and then the next. Her reflection mirrored the movements. She stuck out her tongue, and saw a pink tongue in the mirror. She lifted her right ribbon and waggled it. Her reflection lifted its right hand and-

Wait, WHAT?!

Candeloro jerked back away from the mirror, her illusionary heartbeat pounding away. Her own face stared back at her from the mirror, eyes wide with shock.

She looked down. Her ribbons were there, same as always. She looked back to the mirror. Also ribbons. No arms or hands to be found. She waved her ribbons back and forth, and saw the motion duplicated.

Candeloro groaned. Oh no. She didn’t need this, not some next level spiritual dissonance on top of everything else.

Shaking her head, she left the bathroom.

Gretchen and Homulilly’s door was closed, but she thought that she could hear them inside. Wincing, she left them alone and went downstairs. No need to rush that conversation.

Most of the house seemed empty, but she found Ophelia sitting at the kitchen table, a soda in one hand and the idly scratching Cheese under his beak. She was just wearing a pair of workout shorts and a white tank-top, and was staring out the window, watching the rain.

Hearing Candeloro approach, Ophelia turned toward her and raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’re up faster than I expected. Feeling okay?”

Candeloro wondered if she ought to mention her little episode in the bathroom, but decided against it. That was something you really had to build up toward. “Not really,” she said. “Where’s Charlotte?”

“Using my shower. We figured you’d need the bathroom when you woke up, so we decided to keep it free. Anyway, I put some tea on earlier. Want some?”

Candeloro sat down at the table. “Yes. Please.”

Ophelia got up and poured a cup. She brought it over and set it down in front of Candeloro.

“Thank you,” Candeloro said, and she took a sip. Ginger. Oh, just what she needed.

She set the cup down. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

Ophelia shrugged. “No problem.”

Candeloro looked down at her reflection in the murky liquid. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, all things considered, I can’t blame you.” Ophelia picked Cheese up on her arm and gave him a small toss, sending him flapping over to his jungle gym. Then she turned her seat around to face Candeloro. “You wanna talk about it?”

Candeloro pursed her lips. “What is there to talk about? I screwed up. I talked a big game about…about sticking together and how we’re going to get through this, but the second I was left alone…” She tapped the end of her ribbon to the surface of her tea, sending ripples out to distort her reflection. “I broke down. I knew it was a bad idea, I knew where it would lead, but I did it anyway. I let you all down.”

Ophelia looked at her for a good long while without saying anything. She fingered the tab on her soda for a bit, rocking it back and forth. Then she looked down and sighed.

“Homulilly’s already exhibiting signs of spiritual dissonance,” she said softly. “I had a weird little freak-out earlier today. Apparently Oktavia’s getting weird reactions to her own music. I don’t think any of us can throw stones about not being our best.”

Candeloro felt her stomach twist up. “Mine’s more serious though. I can’t afford to let myself slip. You of all people should understand that.”

Ophelia shot her a hard look. “We were young and stupid, Candeloro.”

“We hurt the people we cared about the most because we were stupid,” Candeloro said, staring down at her reflection. “And I think the consequences of this situation could be quite a bit more serious than simply you and me getting drunk, sleeping together, and lying about it for two weeks straight.” She shook her head. “I should have known better. No, I did know better. And I did it anyway.”

“Well, you’re not the only one. And speaking of which, there’s something you ought to know…”

Right about then a door opened in another part of the house. Moments later, Charlotte showed up, her hair still damp. She was yawning widely. When she opened her eyes, she saw Candeloro sitting at the table, and her face brightened immediately.

Candeloro smiled weakly. “Hey.”

Charlotte didn’t say anything. She just went to her knees and threw her arms around her wife.

Candeloro was more than happy to return the gesture. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“No, I am.” Candeloro felt her throat tighten. “I should’ve…”

Charlotte moved back and laid a hand on Candeloro’s shoulder. “Beat yourself up later,” she said. “Right now, I just need you whole.”

Then Ophelia cleared her throat. “Um, sorry to cut in, but there’s something we really need to talk about.”

Candeloro sighed. “I know, Kyoko. But could you give us just a minute?”

“Huh?”

“I said, could you-”

“N-No, not that. I mean the first part. What did you call me?”

Candeloro frowned. “I called you Ophelia. You know, your name?”

“No. No…you did not.”

Candeloro paused. She looked at Charlotte, who had a look of confusion on her face, one that slowly morphed into one of dawning horror.

“How did you learn that name?” Charlotte whispered.

Candeloro didn’t have anything to say. She then turned toward Ophelia.

Her normally unflappable friend was sitting stock still, frozen in place. If it weren’t for how badly her body was trembling, she could have been mistaken for a statue.

Lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating Ophelia’s bright scarlet eyes.

“Who,” she said in a hoarse whisper, “the fuck is Kyoko?”

…

Twang.

The rain had started off bad, and it was steadily getting worse.

Homulilly and Gretchen sat in their room, listening to it hammer the window and the sides of the house. Homulilly was sitting in the loveseat, fiddling with her shield. There was something weird about its construction. The front plate sat on a swivel, allowing it to be clicked into place one direction or the other. What that was supposed to serve, she couldn’t guess. Whatever it had done was gone now though.

As for Gretchen, she was sitting on the bed and staring out the window, bow in her lap. Every few seconds she would pull back on the string and let it go, making it vibrate like a harp.

The two weren’t talking. It wasn’t out of anger or resentment with one another, though Homulilly had to admit that she was more than a little frustrated with Gretchen for the situation she had allowed herself to be put in. There just seemed to be a feeling of anticipation and dread hanging over them, one as dark and thick as the actual clouds that were blotting out the sky. Something was very wrong, something in addition to the spiritual dissonance that was started to invade their household. Homulilly couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming, something big.

Twang.

To distract herself, Homulilly continued to poke around the shield’s workings. In addition to being able to turn back and forth, their seemed to be a small compartment nestled within its back. It wasn’t very large though, barely big enough for her to fit her fist in. What use was something like that, and what had it been for originally?

She sighed. Maybe she had been too harsh on Gretchen. Sure, pumping Hitomi for information had been all sorts of dangerous, but playing with her old shield had to fall under the same category. But she had to do something to take her mind off of things.

Gretchen pulled back on the string again, but instead of releasing it, she just sighed and brought it back. “I hope she’s okay,” she said, staring out into the rain.

Homulilly paused. “You mean Candeloro?” she said, a hint of warning in her voice.

Gretchen winced. “Well, of course I hope Candeloro is okay! B-But at least she’s here, safe and warm with people to take care of her! But Hitomi’s out there all alone!”

Homulilly looked back down at her shield. “She wouldn’t be if she just went back to the FIB,” she muttered.

“She’s just scared.”

“Fear often leads to stupid decisions. And she’s making a lot of-”

Suddenly Gretchen straightened up. “Oh my God!” she gasped. “She’s outside!”

“What?!” Homulilly leapt off the chair and rushed over to the window.

Sure enough, there was Hitomi, standing where the backyard melted into the forest. She had her hood up and umbrella open above her, though that didn’t seem to be providing much protection from the rain.

However, she didn’t seem to notice. She was just standing there, staring up at the house, looking right at Gretchen and Homulilly’s window. Her face was completely blank.

“What is she doing?” Homulilly said.

Gretchen shook her head. “I…I don’t know.”

Hitomi saw that she had been noticed. She took a deep breath through her nose, as if bracing herself. Then she let it out and smiled sadly. She waved, and mouthed the words, I’m sorry. Goodbye.

With that, she turned and walked away, following a dirt (well, mud now) path through the woods.

“Oh no,” Gretchen whispered. “She isn’t.”

“Isn’t what?”

Gretchen hastily popped the window’s lock and threw it open. Immediately the two girls were buffeted by the hammering rain and howling winds. “That path leads straight to the cliff!” she called. “I have to stop her!” And with that, she threw herself out of the window into the storm.

“Gretchen, wait!” Homulilly rushed after her. She slipped out of the window onto the roof, slid down its length, and leapt.

…

Candeloro felt so twisted up. That name…that name she had just called Ophelia. Where had to come from?

“That’s my name, isn’t it?” Ophelia said, staring daggers at Candeloro and Charlotte both. “My old name. Kyoko. I’m Kyoko, right?”

Charlotte swallowed. “Um, yeah. It is. Ky-Kyoko Sakura.”

“You told her?”

“No, I haven’t told anyone! You all said you didn’t want to know, remember?”

“She hasn’t,” Candeloro said.

“Then how the fuck did you-”

Then they heard a thump on the roof.

Their quarrel forgotten, Candeloro, Charlotte, and Ophelia all looked up to the ceiling in puzzlement. “The hell was that?” Ophelia said.

Then, out the window, they saw Gretchen fall from the sky onto the backyard. Without missing a beat, the pink-haired girl took off like a woman possessed, all twelve of her legs carrying her along at incredible speed.

Three sets of jaws dropped open. Charlotte started to say, “The fu-”

Then there was another loud thump. A moment later Homulilly came down as well. She hit the ground in a parkour roll, bounded to her feet, and rushed off after Gretchen.

The three women at the table stared after them. Then they all turned to look at each other.

Less than a second later they were leaping into action. “Charlotte, you’re the fastest, you go after them!” Candeloro shouted.

“Got it!” Charlotte bolted for the door.

“Grab your phone, grab your phone!”

Charlotte braked hard on her heel, hopped herself the other way on one foot, rushed over to where her phone was lying on the living room table, and then rushed out the door.

“Ophelia, you’re backup! Take your phone too, try to keep them in sight, and keep me informed!”

Ophelia was already moving. “What about you?”

Candeloro was already at the kitchen phone and dialing numbers. “Calling for help! If that’s what I think it is, we’re going to need all the backup we can get!”

…

They found her at the edge of the cliffs, staring down at the sea.

The storm was now in full force, the sky above almost completely blacked out, while sheets of rain were nearly coming in sideways with how hard the wind was blowing them. Below, the waves of the sea were crashing loudly against the stone walls, angrily trying to tear them down. Every now and then lightning would strike, briefly lighting up the sky.

And Hitomi was just standing there, umbrella spread over her head, mere centimeters away from the drop. If the wind had been blowing out to the sea instead of from it, she would have been thrown right in.

“Hitomi!” Gretchen screamed. “Wait! Don’t!” She scurried to a stop, the points of her legs digging into the mud to arrest her momentum. Behind her, Homulilly burst from the trees and stumbled to a stop next to her, panting heavily.

Hitomi slowly turned to face them. The look on her face was terrifying. She was smiling, but there was no happiness in it at all. Her large, emerald eyes were tired and empty.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” she said, the smile remaining fixed. “But I understand why you did. I suppose I shouldn’t have shown myself, but I wanted to see you one last time. To say I was sorry.”

“What?” Gretchen said. “Hitomi, wait. Look, j-just step away from the-”

“I went to see Sayaka,” Hitomi went on, as if Gretchen hadn’t spoken. “I wanted to talk to her, like I talked to you. I wanted to apologize to her for breaking her heart. She was working, over in that big ship. I saw her talking to her girlfriend on the phone. And when I was listening, I realized something.” She shook her head and giggled. “Sayaka is happy now. She’s happy being Oktavia. She’s happy having forgotten…forgotten her name, forgotten Kyousuke, and forgotten me.”

Homulilly’s teeth were chattering, though whether it was from the cold or from fear she couldn’t really tell. “And th-that’s great, but could you please-”

“And if I had talked to her, if I tried to make her remember, that would just make her…unhappy. Like I’ve made you two unhappy.”

“You haven’t!” Gretchen cried. Homulilly shot her a look, but didn’t contradict her. “You haven’t, Hitomi! None of this was your fault!”

“I’ve made everyone unhappy,” Hitomi said. “Not just my friends, but the friends of my friends. It’s like what you said earlier, Homulilly. You were doing just fine until I showed up.” She looked up at the green canopy of her umbrella. “It really would have been better had I become a witch as well. Maybe then I would also be happy. Maybe the world would have been happier without Hitomi Shizuki.”

“Okay, I said a lot of things,” Homulilly said. “That’s true. But believe me, standing on the edge of a cliff during a hurricane is not the place-”

“Oh well. I guess I can only do the next best thing.” Hitomi released her umbrella. It was whipped up by the wind and sent sailing over the treetops. “I mean, I’ve already died once. It has to be easier the second time.”

“Hitomi, don’t!” Gretchen begged. “You can’t.”

Hitomi spread her arms out to her sides. “I’m really sorry. Gretchen. But it is better this way.”

“No, she meant it literally, you idiot!” Homulilly snapped. “It doesn’t work that way! You can’t-”

Hitomi let herself fall backward and disappear.

…

Well, that was quite the journey. Wasn’t this story slice-of-life at one point?

Then again, if you’re a dead lesbian monstergirl with superpowers living in a magic city with aliens, you have to expect your drama to get…weird.

Until next time, everyone.

#walpurgis nights

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