#I'm a completionist :D
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bloodyfeverdreams · 1 month ago
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Like I Could Pull Aside the Mask, and There Would be the Face of My Son, Diego
Soooooo I know this Zorro fandom is literally so dead, as the show's been over for literally over sixty years 😅 but I was watching the show for the first time since I adore Zorro, and as I went, I got an idea for this, annnnd then this happened. Whumptober let me finish this so it counts haha. If y'all don't mind reading fanfics for fandoms you're not familiar with, I'd be really excited if you could try this one. I'll give you a guide so you can follow the story.
Don Diego de la Vega - Zorro, the main character of the show. He's convinced the rest of Los Angeles that he's a dandy, completely inept with a sword in order to keep people from discovering he's Zorro.
Don Alejandro de la Vega - Diego's loving father, who doesn't know who Zorro is under the mask.
Bernardo - Diego's manservant, and best friend. He's mute, and also pretends to be deaf so he can help Diego with being Zorro.
Tornado - Zorro's horse, who's incredibly smart.
Sergeant Garcia - A soldier of the King of Spain, who's not the brightest, who's charged with arresting Zorro while also "secretly" thinking he's a hero
Corporal Reyes - Another soldier, who's probably slightly autistic lol who takes everything Sergeant Garcia says way too literally, and is as dumb as a box of rocks.
The Eagle - The main villain of the second half of the first season.
Juan Ramos - A guy I made up for the sole purpose of hurting Diego.
pueblo - What Los Angeles was before it really became a city. When they say pueblo, they basically mean the whole city.
hacienda - Alejandro's house, he's a rancher, Diego lives there with his father after returning from university in Spain.
cuartel - basically the police force/police station
Okay, now that we've got that out of the way, let's get down to the actual story.
Adrenaline really could be a powerful drug sometimes, Diego thought vaguely. It was why he never drank too much wine when he was drinking, he never liked his senses being dulled. But sometimes, as Zorro, he would get so caught up in the simple act of not getting killed, that his world narrowed to just what he was doing. Facing multiple enemies at once will do that to a person, even the most accomplished swordsman. And while the idea of Zorro could never be destroyed, that didn’t mean that Diego de la Vega wasn’t still just a mortal man.
The Eagle’s men were often very well-trained in swordplay, some even rivaled Diego himself, and this one was no different. Juan Ramon had been sent to smuggle a supply of weapons from Mexico to the Eagle’s men waiting in the outskirts of Los Angeles. As soon as he’d figured out the Eagle’s plan, Diego donned his mask and Zorro rode, and he intercepted the wagon full of the concealed weapons, redirecting it to Sergeant Garcia to prevent any of the Eagle’s men from getting their hands on it. The shipment of weapons had been stopped, but Ramon decided to ride with Sergeant Garcia to capture Zorro, citing the reward. It had been all too easy to evade the Sergeant, as it usually was, but Ramon wasn’t so easily misled, continuing to race after him as he rode on Tornado.
Tornado was the fastest horse in the pueblo, but it seemed nothing would stop Ramon from capturing Zorro. Ramon’s sword slashed at his back, slicing through some of his cape. So he’d turned Tornado around to fight the man honorably, though it seemed the man had none, and their swords began to clash in the darkness. Ramon was a fierce swordsman, a true challenger to Diego’s skills. Being Zorro for so long, he’d gotten very used to fighting in the dark, so he could parry Ramon’s strikes, though fighting on horseback was quite difficult. He didn’t just have to protect himself but he had to protect Tornado. He had no doubt that this man would strike Tornado just to get to him. As his blood thundered through his veins, his heart pounding in his chest, Diego felt the world narrowing to this fight, keeping himself and Tornado alive.
Luck it seemed was on his side though, and he could hear the rattle of a snake in between the crashes of their swords. Ramon’s horse bucked into the air, causing Ramon’s last thrust to veer off course as Ramon was thrown from his horse. Diego could sense that Tornado hadn’t seen the snake yet, though his good friend clearly heard it, and he used his new advantage to ride away before Ramon could get back on his horse to chase after him.
But something strange began to happen as he rode to the hacienda. His vision began to blur a little around the edges as his heart couldn’t slow down. Diego could tell that something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell what, this had never happened to him before. He tried to ignore it, hoping if he just made it home, he could deal with it then, but black spots began to dance across his vision as he rode. After checking that no one was following him, he had Tornado slow down, thinking that would ease his heart into something calmer. Again, it didn’t. Black spots still began to dance across his vision, actually if anything they got worse. At this point, Diego knew that something was terribly wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. He began to slump a little in his saddle, and he became aware of a distant throbbing in his right side. He urged Tornado home, never more grateful that Tornado was the smartest horse in the state, as he was losing the ability to guide Tornado himself.
The throbbing in his side was beginning to get stronger, turning sharper and fouler with a kind of pain he’d never felt before, and he felt himself getting weaker and weaker far too quickly. Diego’s hands then came to his right side, trying to ascertain what was causing his unusual and unpleasant feelings. He ran his fingers up the right side of his shirt, and found part of it to be wet for some reason. He didn’t understand, his sharp, witty mind moving unusually slow, and he looked down at himself.
Wearing all black often let him move around in the pueblo in complete secrecy, moving as one with the shadows. But something he’d never thought of before was that being dressed in black would prevent him from seeing things like blood when they started to stain through his shirt. It wasn’t until he noticed that his shirt was ripped that he even saw the wound. It seemed Ramon’s last strike had found its mark.
All at once, when he finally registered he was wounded, the pain slammed into him like a horse kicking him in the chest. He doubled over, crying out as his hand covered the wound, and his breath left him like he’d been punched in the stomach. His mind went a little dizzy at seeing his flesh sliced open, and he leaned on Tornado to keep himself upright.
“Tornado, take, ahh, take me home.” Diego murmured, his eyes having trouble staying open. But he trusted Tornado, as he was the smartest horse Diego had ever met, and he knew his friend would get him home.
Darkness started to pull at him a little as Tornado trotted along carefully, as if sensing his master was wounded. Pull it together, he thought to himself, the hacienda wasn’t far. He just had to make it back home, and then Bernardo would be able to get him a doctor. He was sure Bernardo would be able to make some excuse of why Diego had been stabbed that didn’t involve Zorro. Probably in a way that made his father disappointed in him again.
Diego’s thoughts began to stray as the pain became unbearable, his body lurching with every step Tornado took. He wasn’t sure why he was thinking of his father, and the disappointed look he always had in his eyes whenever Diego backed down from a fight. Maybe because he’d just fought proudly and honorably for the people he and his father wanted to protect, but his father would never know it. He preferred it that way of course, because he never wanted his father to get caught up in his adventures of Zorro, as he risked his life often and losing his father would absolutely destroy him. But that didn’t make disappointing him any easier.
Thoughts of his father drifted as his body got weaker, as his mind lost the ability to think beyond the pain. He was slumping further and further in the saddle, his body now laying against Tornado’s neck, as he was unable to sit up anymore. His blinks got longer, heavier, his eyes feeling like lead, and he was losing the strength to keep them open.
“Torn’ado, get… get ‘ernardo. Get help…” Diego whimpered, the pain overwhelming him to the point where he could barely speak anymore. The adrenaline that had kept him going this entire time was fading, and he was losing what little strength he had.
But Diego couldn’t see his horse’s answer, as his eyes slipped closed and stayed closed. His body went limp, and he slowly slid out of the saddle. He collapsed onto the ground with a soft groan. He felt Tornado nuzzle his face, heard the fright in his friend’s neighs, but he couldn’t respond beyond a low moan. Tornado tried to get him up once more, but Diego still lay unmoving on his side. With the little bit of strength he had left, Diego tried to reach out to Tornado, unsure of what he was even reaching for, but desperate to try and not give into this darkness. Even though Zorro was a fearless hero, Diego was still just a man, and he was scared he was going to die here in the dirt, away from anyone he loved. His hand trembled as he fought as hard as he could, putting all of his remaining strength into trying to move, but his hand went slack as the little strength he had waned, and he collapsed into darkness.
Originally, Alejandro had wanted Diego to ride with him this morning since he thought that getting some fresh air would do his bookworm son some good, but when he knocked, Diego hadn’t answered. He assumed his son must still be asleep, having stayed up late due to his books and poems, no doubt. Thinking that he’d just see his son at breakfast,  Alejandro decided to ride  across his hacienda alone.
Riding across the hacienda every morning had become a part of his routine when he’d sent Diego off to Spain to finish his education. He’d missed his son terribly, so he’d taken to riding in the morning to clear his head to start the day. Diego had always loved riding when he was younger, so Alejandro rode in the mornings to make him feel close to his son while he was gone. And even though Diego had returned from Spain, Alejandro still missed the young boy he’d sent to college. Diego had been such a rambunctious youth, always getting into trouble, always swinging his sword at every problem in an effort to imitate his father. He wasn’t sure what had changed in his son during university, but something had. So Alejandro still rode every morning to clear his head, to let him focus on the day ahead of him, and to think about his son. He’d tried to understand, tried to get Diego to tell him what had happened to him, but Diego had suddenly become very evasive over his true feelings, and he wouldn’t speak to his father the way he used to. Whatever it was that had happened, he hoped that Diego would tell him eventually. He wanted his son to trust him, regardless of what path he walked in life.
A horse’s neigh started him out of his thoughts, and he was stunned to see Zorro’s black horse riding up to him. He’d only seen the horse a few times when he’d run into the outlaw, but it seemed that Zorro owned the only black horse in the entire pueblo, and everyone would recognize the horse on sight. But something was wrong, as an experienced ranchero like him would immediately spot the tell-tale signs in the horse. The horse came up to Alejandro without fear, and bucked a little. Alejandro could tell the horse knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell what.
“Where is your master, horse?” Alejandro murmured, very confused as to why he was seeing Zorro’s horse without seeing Zorro. The horse still had his complete saddle on so Zorro must have been with him last night. Then the horse then nipped at his arm, gently grasping Alejandro’s jacket and pulling. The kind of control Zorro’s horse had of nipping at him without hurting him was incredible, and Alejandro wondered how Zorro had been able to train his horse so well. The horse nipped at him again, clearly trying to communicate through their language barrier, and he could tell the horse clearly thought whatever it was it was urgent.
“You want me to follow you, is that it?” Alejandro asked, and even though he hadn’t been expecting an answer, it seemed the horse was smarter than Alejandro thought and immediately took off. The horse turned a little, looking at him, and Alejandro nudged his own horse on, following Zorro’s horse.
When the horse realized that Alejandro was indeed following him, Zorro’s horse took off like a shot. Alejandro had to ride quickly to keep up, and the faster the horse ran, the more worried he became. Dread churned in his gut the more distance they covered, and Alejandro wondered what he would find when they finally reached their destination. Animals were often much smarter than most people thought, especially the ones who didn’t spend their lives raising them and training them. But Alejandro was an expert in horses, and he knew that Zorro’s horse wouldn’t have left his master without a good reason.
His eyes went wide when he finally saw what the horse had been leading him to. Zorro was lying on the ground, facedown, in a pool of blood, and he didn’t seem to be moving. Alejandro couldn’t even tell if the man was even breathing. Even though Zorro was a bandit, an outlaw, Alejandro respected him immensely for always riding for justice. He hadn’t forgotten how Zorro had saved him from Comandante Monastario, and how he owed Zorro his life. So Alejandro acted immediately, dismounting the moment he saw the still form of the hero, and he rushed to the man’s side. His hands hovered over Zorro for a moment, but then Alejandro grabbed the man’s shoulder and rolled him over, instantly leaning down to the man’s chest to check his heart. Alejandro could hear the soft thump-thump of Zorro’s heart, though he thought it sounded a little too fast, but the important thing was that the man was alive, and that meant that Alejandro could help him.
Even though Alejandro was getting up in years, he was still able to slide his arms underneath Zorro’s back and knees and he was able to lift the man into the air. He whistled his horse down, and with his horse kneeling, he was able to finagle the unconscious man onto his saddle and get behind him. Zorro was a little taller than he was, just about Diego’s height, so his head lolled onto Alejandro’s shoulder as they began to ride away. Alejandro had one hand on his horse’s reins and the other over Zorro’s chest, holding the unconscious man in the saddle as he whistled for his horse to take them back to the hacienda. Even though Alejandro hadn’t said anything, Zorro’s horse trailed after them, still upset and as frantic as a horse could get, easily matching his horse’s strides. Zorro truly had a magnificent horse, he’d never seen a horse so loyal before.
As they rode home, Alejandro wondered how long Zorro had been lying unconscious on the ground before his horse found Alejandro, how long his horse had clearly sought help. Zorro rocked back and forth limply in Alejandro’s arms as they rode, and Alejandro’s grip got tighter as they approached the hacienda. Even though he was being bounced around a little on Alejandro’s horse, Zorro still hadn’t woken up, and a pit of dread was starting to form in Alejandro’s stomach. With Zorro’s head on his shoulder, he could feel the man’s shallow breathing, and he prayed that he had gotten to the heroic outlaw in time to save the man’s life.
The hacienda was quiet as Alejandro approached, which was usual, as his vaqueros were already out taking care of the cattle and horses, and the servants were most likely still preparing breakfast. Alejandro rode into his hacienda, and he opened his mouth to call Diego down so he could help, but he thought better of it. He didn’t want to put any of his servants or employees in any danger by associating with someone who helped Zorro, even if they loved Zorro. But thankfully, Diego’s manservant exited Diego’s room, probably having just woken Diego for breakfast. Bernardo saw them almost immediately, and he ran down the stairs, coming right up to Alejandro and Zorro. Alejandro dismounted his horse, and Bernardo helped him ease Zorro’s limp body down from his horse and together, they wrapped his arms around their shoulders.
Unfortunately, Zorro’s horse had followed them into the hacienda, still very attached to his master, and Alejandro tried to gently shoo the horse away.
“Go on, horse.” Alejandro waved the horse away with the hand not currently holding the still unconscious Zorro. “We’ve got him, you’ve got to get out of here. It’s dangerous, you must go.”
The horse just neighed and bucked in response, obviously not wanting to leave Zorro’s side. But in order to keep Zorro safe, it had to be a complete secret that he was here, and this horse was far too recognizable. Bernardo turned to him and gestured for him to take all of Zorro’s weight. Alejandro was confused, but Diego trusted this man, and he trusted Diego’s judgment. So he held the limp Zorro in his arms as Bernardo approached Zorro’s horse. Strangely enough, the horse actually reacted to the deaf-mute. When the man put his hand on the horse’s chest, the horse calmed a little. Bernardo then pointed for the horse to leave, and miraculously, Zorro’s horse actually trotted away, obviously returning to where he lived with Zorro. Alejandro stared at Bernardo for a moment, completely bewildered by the man’s actions, but Bernardo then took Zorro’s other arm from him and wrapped it around his shoulders. Alejandro knew he could be confused as to why Zorro’s horse had reacted to a man he’d never met later, right now, they had to get Zorro into the hacienda where no one would stumble upon him.
“We need to find shelter for him.” Alejandro said, and then cursed himself as the man stared at him a little. Right, he couldn’t hear. Lord, he didn’t know how Diego communicated so well with the man. Bernardo then pointed to Diego’s room, and Alejandro nodded. Diego would have no issues giving up his bed for Zorro. He knew that Diego always spoke about how Zorro was a criminal, but he knew the twinkle in his son’s eyes when he was teasing, even if others didn’t.
So Alejandro and Bernardo carried Zorro’s unconscious body up the stairs, and maneuvered him into Diego’s room. Surprisingly, his son wasn’t there as he’d expected Diego to be. He wanted to ask where Diego was, but Bernardo couldn’t hear so that would have to be a question for later. Maybe his son had already gone down for an early breakfast.
Carefully, Alejandro and Bernardo laid Zorro down on Diego’s still made bed. Alejandro removed Zorro’s hat and torn cape, and Bernardo removed Zorro’s shoes and gloves. Then Alejandro gently pulled at the fabric stuck to Zorro’s skin, and hissed at the sight in sympathy. There was a roughly three inch gash in the man’s right side, dried blood mixing in with the dirt Alejandro had found him in. When Bernardo saw the gash, his face was extremely expressive in his worry. Bernardo placed his hand on Zorro’s forehead, and Zorro’s cheeks. He looked at Alejandro, clearly frightened and Alejandro gently touched the man’s skin around the wound. Dammit. It was already warm with fever. Alejandro cursed under his breath.
“Okay. We have to clean the wound, and no one can know he’s here.” Alejandro said slowly, trying to use gestures to explain what he was saying. Thankfully, the man seemed to understand, and he nodded. Alenajdro then gestured to the room, and the books that Diego loved so much. “Where’s Diego?”
Bernardo struggled a little, his gestures not making any sense. Alejandro sighed, wondering how Diego dealt with this all the time. At least his bookworm son had learned patience in Spain. Bernardo then shrugged, and Alejandro sighed. “I have no idea what you’re saying.”
Well, he could worry about where Diego had disappeared to later. Zorro needed him now. He trusted his son, Diego would be alright without his father and his manservant for a little while. His son was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.
“Go get some water and several soft cloths.” Alejandro said, and tried to mime that to Bernardo. Even though Alejandro was not used to communicating only with his hands, Bernardo nodded quickly, and slipped out of the room. Having been deaf his whole life, he was probably very used to understanding gestures.
Even though Alejandro only knew cattle and horses, and wasn’t a doctor himself, he’d seen enough injuries over the course of his life that he had a fair idea of what to do. He had to clean the wound, stitch Zorro back up, and let him rest for at least a few days so he could recover from the blood loss and fever. He hoped that that was all Zorro needed, as Alejandro wouldn’t risk bringing a doctor to the hacienda unless it was at the uttermost end of need. The less people who knew of this secret the better.
Bernardo was rather quick in his return, carrying a large basin of water with several soft washcloths. Alejandro cleared a space on Diego’s nightstand for the man to set everything down. Alejandro then tried to gesture for Bernardo to lock Diego’s door, and he nodded quickly. At least now no one would be able to come in unannounced. Diego would understand why he was locked out of his own room once he came home.
When the man returned to Diego’s bed, worry still written clearly on his face, he pointed at Zorro, and then pretended to undress himself. Alejandro nodded resolutely. “You’re right, let’s get his shirt off.”
Bernardo then came around to the other side of Diego’s bed, and carefully, they eased Zorro’s body into somewhat of a sitting position. Alejandro ripped the already torn sash around Zorro’s waist and removed his gloves, and Bernardo supported Zorro’s unconscious body as Alejandro began to slowly try to remove Zorro’s shirt. The man moaned softly in pain as he did so, and while it hurt Alejandro’s heart, he was almost glad for it. The heroic outlaw wasn’t too far gone if he was still able to make noises. Bernardo helped Alejandro wrangle Zorro’s limp arms out of his shirt before they managed to pull it off his head. The pull of the fabric pulled a little at Zorro’s mask and bandana, and when that happened, Alejandro saw Zorro’s eyes open a little. He must have trained himself to recognize anything trying to unmask him, even when he was barely conscious.
“No… n-no…” Zorro whimpered, his trembling hand trying to come to his mask.
“Shh, it’s alright, Zorro. You’re safe here.” Alejandro took Zorro’s hand and squeezed gently. Zorro weakly tried to pull away, his hand trying to come back to his mask. Alejandro could see the fear in Zorro’s eyes, so he spoke with pure conviction, his only goal reassuring the outlaw. “I give you my word, Zorro. We will not unmask you. You’re safe here.”
Zorro stared at him with brown eyes that reminded him of Diego, and he must have seen Alejandro’s sincerity even though the haze of his fever, and he nodded a little, his head then falling limply down as his hand clutched Alejandro’s as tightly as he could. It frightened Alejandro with just how weak Zorro’s grip was.
“... hurts.” Zorro moaned, clearly insentient from the fever, as Alejandro doubted that the masked man would ever admit he was in pain if he were fully in control of his wits.
Again, Alejandro was reminded of Diego, of a time when Diego had been about twelve years old, still young but trying so hard to be a man like his father. Diego had climbed a tree to impress the young Rosarita Cortez, but he’d been more concerned about showing off to the girl he was infatuated with than caution, and he’d slipped and fallen out of the tree. He’d landed hard on his left wrist, and Alejandro had immediately taken him to the doctor in town. As Diego had clung to him in the saddle, he’d made the same exact sound, whispering that it hurts. He’d been trying very hard not to cry, but constantly being jostled around in the saddle had overwhelmed the small boy. But Alejandro had promised his young son that admitting he was in pain was a strength, and not a weakness. Diego then started sobbing into his father’s shirt as Alejandro rode to the doctor, and he comforted his young son as best as he could. If he remembered correctly, Diego still had the scar on his left wrist from the break, even though he’d fully healed years ago. But now was not the time to reminisce about his son. He needed to think about the man in front of him now.
Somehow, as if sensing Zorro’s distress, Bernardo then pulled down Zorro’s mask so it properly covered his face again. The restoration of his mask seemed to calm the outlaw, and his eyelids fluttered as he struggled to remain conscious. Alejandro wondered if he should let the man sleep again, as what he was about to do was going to be painful, but he also didn’t want the man slipping into unconsciousness again to the point where Zorro wouldn’t wake up again.
“Lay him back down.” Alejandro said, there was silence and stillness for a moment, and then he gestured for Bernardo to lay him back down. Gently, Bernardo laid Zorro back down, careful with his head, until Zorro was once again laying flat in Diego’s bed.
Alejandro then reached over, grabbed a small cloth, and dipped it into the water. The water was only slightly cool, and Alejandro hoped that this wouldn’t be too much of a shock to Zorro’s fevered skin. Bernardo then got his attention, and gestured for a cloth of his own. He mimed placing something on his eyes, and Alejandro nodded, understanding. He handed Bernardo the cloth he’d had and grabbed another one. Bernardo folded the damp cloth and then placed it over Zorro’s eyes, over his mask. Alejandro hoped that would help ease the heroic outlaw into knowing that his secret was safe with them.
Taking a deep breath, Alejandro then brought the cool cloth to Zorro’s right side, starting with the skin around the wound. Zorro whimpered in pain at the touch of the cool cloth, but Alejandro knew he couldn’t stop even if his actions were going to cause the man pain. He slowly began to wipe away the dried blood and dirt around Zorro’s wound, trying not to use too much pressure but also trying to make sure he washed off all of the dirt around the wound. As he worked, he saw Bernardo out of the corner of his eye, gently stroking Zorro’s cheek, most likely trying to do what little he could to comfort the suffering man.
Stroke after stroke, Alejandro used gentle pressure to wipe away the dried blood and dirt around the gash in Zorro’s side. He tried to ignore the soft noises of pain that slipped past the outlaw’s lips, knowing that even though this hurt, he needed to clean the wound so Zorro could heal. But each noise twisted his gut a little, even if his hands remained steady as he cleansed the man’s skin. For a reason Alejandro couldn’t figure out, Zorro’s noises of pain sounded almost exactly like Diego. Alejandro ignored it, thinking that it was just his paternal instincts responding to Zorro’s pain as Zorro had the same eyes as his son. Though, Zorro clearly had much more muscle than his scholarly son, training to fence as well to be as skilled as Zorro was would of course build up that muscle. He wished Diego had put that much devotion into his fencing skills rather than his books. He’d heard from around town of just how hopeless his son was with a sword, which he didn’t understand. Diego had been a fine swordsman when he’d left for Spain. Even if he didn’t fence the entire time he was there, he shouldn’t be so hopeless now.
Even though Alejandro couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting to Diego, his hands moved just as they should. Slowly, carefully, he gently cleared away the dried blood and dirt away from Zorro’s right side. When he finished, he looked back up at Zorro. Bernardo was still softly stroking his cheek, and Alejandro saw droplets of water running down Zorro’s cheeks. Alejandro hoped that they were from the cool compress over his eyes, rather than the poor man being in so much pain that he was crying, though he knew it was probably the latter. Alejandro sighed. Unfortunately, it was only going to get worse.
“Bernardo, hold him down.” Alejandro said, trying to gesture to the deaf-mute. “This is going to be painful.”
He saw the fear on Bernardo’s face, as if he could hear the grimness in Alejandro’s tone, but most likely, he just understood what had to come next. Bernardo shifted a little, using his arm to pin Zorro’s shoulder’s to the bed. Using his other arm, Alejandro pinned Zorro’s waist to the bed, and he took another deep breath, trading the dirty cloth for a clean one.
Alejandro then brought the clean cloth to the wound itself. Zorro shrieked in pain as soon as Alejandro touched it, but Bernardo quickly covered Zorro’s mouth, trying to muffle the shrieks and groans of pain as Alejandro worked. The wound had stopped bleeding at some point during the night, but as soon as he began to try and wipe the dirt from the gash, it started bleeding sluggishly once again. Having been a ranchero all his life, Alejandro was very used to blood, human or cattle. But out of all the blood he’d seen in his life, this was the worst. This wasn’t some vaquero who’d been gored by a bull for getting too close to his mate, this wasn’t a man who’d accidentally cut himself as he was fixing the perimeter fence, this wasn’t a man who’d been kicked by a horse. This was a man who’d been intentionally injured because he fought for justice and cared about all people in the pueblo. Still, Alejandro had to do a job to keep the man alive, so he pushed away all thoughts of the cruelty of this wound.
With Bernardo muffling Zorro’s sounds as best as he could, Alejandro worked, trying to get all of the grime in the wound. He had to use a fair amount of his strength to keep Zorro pinned down, but he tried not to focus on that, on how much pain this was causing the man. He just did his best to work as quickly as he could without losing his caution and attention to detail. It felt like it took hours upon hours to make sure there was no more dirt in the wound, but just as he was finishing up, Zorro went completely limp in their arms. The poor man must have passed out from the pain. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, but at least the man wasn’t in agony anymore. Alejandro finished cleaning the wound as Zorro lay unconscious in Diego’s bed, and he sighed heavily when he thought that this would be as clean as he could get a wound like this.
Alejandro then stood up, taking the bloody rags, and threw them in Diego’s fireplace. When he turned back to the man, he saw silent tears running down Bernardo’s cheeks as he continued to stroke Zorro’s face. Even though the man couldn’t hear the horrid cries of excruciating pain he’d been trying to muffle, it seemed he could still tell just how much pain Zorro had been in, and tried to do what little he could to comfort the outlaw. Alejandro then placed his hand on Bernardo’s shoulder, surprising the man a little, but the deaf-mute just nodded at him. The man then started miming the act of sewing, and Alejandro motioned for him to continue. Bernardo then slipped off of Diego’s bed, and went to his desk. He ruffled around for a little bit before returning with some skin sewing thread, which confused Alejandro.
“Why does Diego have medical supplies in his desk?” Alejandro asked.
Bernardo must have understood the question even though he didn’t hear it, and he picked up one of Diego’s books, and pulled his hand back as if he’d been injured.
“He has sewing thread for the skin in case of a papercut?” Alejandro said incredulously, unable to believe that Diego would have something so extreme for something as insignificant as a papercut.
Again, Bernardo seemed to understand, probably going off of his facial expression, and he shook his head. He mimed getting another papercut, and Alejandro realized he’d gotten the wrong conclusion from his actions. Bernardo then mimed riding a horse, and Alejandro finally thought he understood. The man was just using a book to imitate the sensation of getting cut. He remembered how Diego had struggled to ride Princessa even though he was a fantastic rider, how sore he’d been after he’d slipped off of her. When he’d seen his son on the ground, he’d been afraid that Diego had been seriously hurt. Suddenly hitting the ground after being on a horse could cause any manner of injuries. Diego must have the thread because he knew just how dangerous it was to be thrown from a horse, and that sometimes the doctor couldn’t be reached immediately. If anything, his bookworm son had a good, logical head on his shoulders.
“I understand, come here.” Alejandro said, waving the man closer. Bernardo came to him, handing him the thread. He could see the hesitance in the deaf-mute’s face as Bernardo mimed sewing, clearly trying to ask a question.
“Yes, I can do this.” Alejandro nodded. He’d stitched up small wounds on cattle before, so he was confident that he could handle this. He then guided Bernardo’s hands to Zorro’s skin, lightly pressing the wound together. Zorro made another small sound of discomfort but he didn’t move, so Alejandro assumed the man was still unconscious, and Alejandro thought this was the best time to do this.
Alejandro threaded the needle, and with a fierce determination, he began to sew Zorro’s skin together. The process was arduously slow, and every time the needle pierced Zorro’s flesh, he let out another soft noise of pain, feeling the agony even as he slept. It broke Alejandro’s heart, but he didn’t let that affect him. Bernardo had turned away, unable to keep looking as Alejandro stitched the gash closed, and Alejandro didn’t blame him. Sometimes even the most experienced vaquero could be sick at the sight of an injury like this.
Puncture right, push through, puncture under the left, pull, switch sides, then repeat. The repetitive process of sewing Zorro’s skin back together was grueling, as the man had never stopped making those small noises of pain that reminded far too much of Diego. But eventually, after what felt like ten hours but was actually about ten minutes, and roughly twenty stitches later, Alejandro finished stitching the wound shut. Zorro’s skin kept twitching a little as his body adjusted to the stitches, but Alejandro knew that the man’s body would calm after a little while. Alejandro readjusted the cool compress over Zorro’s eyes, feeling Zorro’s warm forehead, but other than keeping Zorro safe and helping with his fever, Alejandro wasn’t sure what else he could do to help the outlaw.
As soon as Alejandro had finished stitching, Bernardo had let go, just staring sadly at Zorro. Alejandro grabbed Bernardo’s shoulder, trying to do what he could to comfort the man. Bernardo just looked at him. Bernardo then gestured to Zorro, and then mimed looking for something and then a question mark.
“I’m not sure,” Alejandro said, still speaking aloud even though the man couldn’t hear him. “I don’t know if the soldiers know he’s wounded, but I suppose it’s only a matter of time. So we must keep his presence here a complete secret.”
Alejandro tried to communicate his words in gestures, which was still a struggle, but Bernardo nodded, so he assumed he might have done something right. He then looked to Diego’s locked door, wondering where his son was. Diego wasn’t the type to go missing for such long periods of time. Alejandro noticed that Diego’s bed hadn’t seemed slept in, but he just assumed that Diego had gotten up during his father’s ride and Bernardo had just remade the bed. Of all the times to be off by himself reading his books or doing whatever it was that he was doing. His son truly had become a mystery since his return from Spain.
But now that the worst part was over, Alejandro was able to focus on other things again. Alejandro then got Bernardo’s attention.
He pointed at Zorro, and then tried to mime riding a horse, and then used his fingers trying to imitate how Zorro’s horse had listened to the deaf-mute. “How on earth did you get Zorro’s horse to obey you?”
Bernardo seemed to understand his question, and then he pointed at Zorro and also mimed riding a horse. He then mimed a lasso, and reached out and held an imaginary horse. Finally he mimed a spoof of one of the king’s soldiers.
“Ah, when Zorro’s horse had been captured by the soldiers, yes.” Alejandro murmured, speaking aloud instinctively. He nodded and then motioned for Bernardo to continue.
Bernardo pointed to himself and used his fingers to imitate walking and then the horse again.
“You were walking by where they were keeping the horse.”
Bernardo mimed the satirized version of a soldier again. Then he mimed a whip, and Alejandro gasped lightly.
“One of the soldiers was whipping Zorro’s horse?” Alejandro asked. “How dishonorable, attacking a defenseless animal like that.”
Bernardo continued as if he hadn’t spoken, miming the whip again, and catching it in the air. He then waved his finger from side to side in a fierce ‘no’.
“You tried to stop him.” Alejandro nodded, putting the puzzle pieces together in his head. Bernardo had been near the corral, and had tried to intervene when he saw the soldier whipping the horse. With as smart as Zorro’s horse seemed to be, that easily explained how Zorro’s horse knew that Bernardo could be trusted. “So he knows you as a friend. I see.”
It was very lucky indeed that Alejandro had been the one who found Zorro. The horse would’ve followed his master into the hacienda of whoever had found him, as everyone in the pueblo would have taken Zorro in, and they might not have been able to send the horse away. He did wonder where the horse went, but Zorro needed his attention more. He had wanted to wait a little to wrap the wound, wanting to give the poor man a break as his body adjusted to the stitches, but now it was time to continue.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Alejandro said slowly, trying his best to mime out his words. “I have some extra bandages in my room from when I was injured, I need to go get them.”
Bernardo nodded. Alejandro still marveled at how easily Bernardo was able to understand him, even though he couldn’t hear him. Alejandro then slipped out of Diego’s room, and carefully came to his own room. He searched through his drawers and found the bandages. As long as the wound didn’t reopen, he thought what he had would be enough.
A knock startled him, and he shoved the bandages into his pocket to hide them. He took a deep breath to steady himself before answering, “Yes?”
“Senor, breakfast is ready.” Alejandro sighed, recognizing his servant’s voice. He’d been afraid that it would be a soldier looking for Zorro.
Alejandro then exited his room. “I shall come down for it later, my son and I have some important business to attend to. I ask that you don’t disturb us.”
The servant nodded, and Alejandro just sighed, walking causally back to Diego’s room. But he trusted his son. Diego was a smart boy, when he returned if anyone asked about this ‘new important business’, his son would easily catch on that his father needed him.
He was beginning to become worried, as it was not like his son to go somewhere where he’d be gone for a while without telling anyone. But he trusted his son to be careful. He was sure Diego was alright. As his father, he felt he’d know if something happened to his son. Still, the longer Diego went without coming home, the more worried he became. Oh mijo, where are you?
Alejandro slipped back into Diego’s room, and pulled the bandages out of his pocket. Bernardo helped ease Zorro into a sitting position again, causing the man to again make a soft noise of pain as they unfortunately jostled his wound. Bernardo then got his attention and mimed a circle and then pointed at himself. It seemed Bernardo wanted to wrap the bandages. Alejandro nodded, seeing no reason to deny him, and handed him the cotton bandages.
Holding Zorro by the shoulders, Alejandro then adjusted himself so he was holding Zorro upright. Bernardo then began to softly wrap the bandages around Zorro’s wound. The man’s touch was incredibly delicate, almost reverent, like he was bandaging a close friend. Maybe Zorro had thanked him for rescuing his horse from that cruel, dishonorable man in some sort of way and Bernardo felt indebted to him as he did, as many did after encountering the hero.
Alejandro watched as Bernardo’s nimble fingers wrapped the white cotton around Zorro’s abdomen. Bernardo moved quickly but tenderly, making sure not to cause any further pain to the hero. He seemed very experienced in this, and a small part of Alejandro hoped that he’d just learned how to do this in his training as a manservant, and not because he’d bandaged an injured Diego before. He hoped that wasn’t what changed his son while he was in Spain. He’d seen the aftereffects of some battles that left men shaking whenever they held a sword again.
Swathes of white soon covered Zorro’s abdomen, and Bernardo tied the two ends together. Together, they laid Zorro against the pillows once more, and adjusted him so he’d be as comfortable as he could be. Alejandro sighed. At least now, all they needed to do was let Zorro rest. They shouldn’t need to cause him any more pain.
With Zorro taken care of Alejandro needed to tend to the hacienda as he always did, trying to assume a look of normalcy. No one could suspect that Zorro was here, that anything was out of the ordinary. And even though Alejandro wanted to remain with Zorro, to watch over the hero as he had watched over Alejandro, it would be better for him to keep the secret and act completely normal. That would keep him the safest.
“Watch over him.” Alejandro said, pointing to his eyes and to Zorro. “I need to tend to the hacienda, otherwise it will seem suspicious.”
Bernardo nodded, and Alejandro placed his hand on Bernardo’s shoulder before heading out. Even though he didn’t really feel like eating, he went down to breakfast anyway. Maybe Diego would be there, waiting with a smile that always calmed Alejandro’s heart.
Bernardo had been exhausted from waiting up all night for Diego to return, but the second he saw his friend in Don Alejandro’s arms, he’d suddenly become wide awake. It was as if he’d drunk a whole keg of coffee, his heart racing in his chest at seeing his friend so injured. Bernardo knew that being Zorro was risky for Diego, it was risky for him too when he joined his friend, but this was the first time Diego had really gotten injured. There had been that one instance when Diego had hit his head against a rock, but he’d been fine afterwards, except for a rather strong headache. He’d been perfectly fine after a little rest. This injury would not go away so easily.
Holding Diego down as his father cleaned the wound was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. Hearing Don Alejandro’s promise to not unmask Diego had been slightly comforting, but his friend was so injured, already afflicted with fever that it was hard to feel it. He’d had trouble keeping up the ruse that he was also deaf, especially when Diego had started screaming in pain. Covering his mouth to muffle his sounds broke Bernardo’s heart, but he knew it was necessary. Diego couldn’t be found here like this, unable to defend himself, and Diego certainly wouldn’t want his father being implicated in helping Zorro, no matter what state he was in.
When Diego finally passed out from the pain, Bernardo didn’t know whether to be grateful or distraught. While he hated to see his friend be in pain, he longed to see Diego’s eyes open once again, so Bernardo could see that he was alive, he was awake. But even in unconsciousness, Diego wasn’t relieved of the pain. He’d kept stroking Diego’s face as gently as he could, trying to bring what little softness and comfort he could to his best friend, trying to give Diego something to focus on that wasn’t the horrible pain he was in. Unfortunately, it hadn’t seemed to work, as Diego continued to make those soft noises of pain as Don Alejandro worked, even after he’d finally lost consciousness.
Bernardo had almost been sick at having to hold the two edges of Diego’s skin closer so Don Alejandro could stitch them together, but he forced himself to be strong for his friend. Diego had always been so strong for him, defending him from people who thought that his inability to speak was a deficiency and made him unintelligent. It was one of the main reasons he’d become so devoted to Diego, who never got frustrated with him because he couldn’t speak. In Spain, Diego had never let anyone speak ill of Bernardo, even dueling a couple of people because they insulted him. Diego was one of the kindest, most patient men he’d ever met, and Bernardo would do anything for the man who had become his best friend. He’d never thought he’d become best friends with someone who was sixteen years younger than him, but Diego was special. He’d never had such a good friend before. So no matter what, no matter how ugly or hard this healing process would be for him to watch, he’d see Diego through this if it killed him.
When Don Alejandro told him he was leaving to keep up appearances, Bernardo nodded, wanting some time alone with his friend. Bernardo locked the door behind him, so he wouldn’t be disturbed. Slumping a little in relief, Bernardo immediately came back to his friend. Gently, Bernardo removed Diego’s bandana and then his mask. This time, Diego’s eyes remained closed, knowing Bernardo’s touch even in sleep. Bernardo then dipped another one of the cloths into the water, and began to dab at the dirt still on Diego’s face, trying hard not to wake him. Judging by the dirt on Diego’s body, he must have fallen off of Tornado at some point. He wondered how long Diego had laid in the dirt before Don Alejandro had found him.
Tenderly, Bernardo began to reveal Diego’s soft skin from under the dirt. His friend slept on, unaware, only occasionally murmuring nonsense in his sleep. He’d never known Diego to talk in his sleep before, but fevers often did strange things to people. So he just focused on his task, gently cleansing Diego’s face with the cool water. This way, Don Alejandro didn’t have to do it and they wouldn’t have to risk Diego’s father potentially accidentally seeing under his mask. Bernardo knew that Don Alejandro promised he wouldn’t unmask Zorro, but still. He and Diego didn’t like to take risks they didn’t have to.
As he worked, little droplets of water ran down Diego’s face, mixing in with the tear tracks so obvious within the dirt that still remained. Bernardo softly stroked Diego’s face with his fingers again, looking sadly upon his friend. Seeing Diego cry was such a rarity that the memories were vivid in his mind. The first time was when Diego wept at the bedside of a good friend when he’d died unexpectedly of yellow fever, and the second was at a wedding as Diego (and most of the crowd) had teared up during the vows. And now this was the third.
Once Diego’s forehead and eyes were clear, Bernardo immediately put the mask back on. Even though the door was locked, he knew Diego would be more comfortable with it on. Despite his fever, Diego still clearly had enough of his wits to remember that he was Zorro, not Don Diego de la Vega. Bernardo hoped the mask’s presence would give Diego the emotional comfort he clearly needed to reassure him that his identity had remained a secret.
Bernardo’s touch was gentle as he brought the cool cloth to Diego’s cheeks, but it seemed that all the touches to his mask and face had woken his friend anyway. Diego’s brow furrowed as his eyes fluttered open. Bernardo could see the fevered glaze in Diego’s brown eyes, and his heart hurt for his friend.
“Ber… bern’do?” Diego whimpered, and Bernardo was grateful that Diego wasn’t too far gone to not recognize him. Bernardo cupped Diego’s cheek gently, and Diego whispered, “wha…?”
Bernardo shushed him gently by putting his finger on Diego’s lips, and then he took Diego’s hand. When he’d first become Diego’s friend, Bernardo had taught him a few hand positions to use as a way to communicate with him. He’d taught Diego the same signs his family had used for the alphabet. It wasn’t something he needed to use often, as Diego was unusually good at communicating with him, but it was what he used to spell out his words as a last resort.
Carefully, Bernardo shifted Diego’s fingers into a fist, with his index and middle fingers raised, and he waited for Diego to recognize it. It took a moment for Diego to understand him through his fever, but eventually he murmured a breathless, “U…” Bernardo then crossed Diego’s fingers, and again waited. “R…” Bernardo guided Diego’s fingers into four successive letters, and when Diego didn’t respond except a confused noise, he did it again. “S-s-a-fe. Safe.”
Bernardo nodded, and cupped Diego’s cheek again. “‘ts good.”
Diego’s eyelids seem to hang heavy over his eyes, and Bernardo’s fingers softly brushed over his bandana. He then grabbed the glass of water he’d gotten earlier, and brought it to Diego’s lips, cradling Diego’s head to help ease him up. Diego wasn’t strong enough to hold the glass, but he managed a few sips of cool water.
“Tor… tornado.” Diego suddenly gasped, his exhausted eyes opening wider in fear, and Bernardo shushed him gently again, setting the glass aside.
Bernardo mimed himself sending Tornado back to their secret hideout, and then he softly stroked Diego’s forehead again. Diego nodded weakly, understanding that Tornado was safe too. Tornado was a smart horse, he’d keep himself out of trouble.
It seemed that the knowledge that he and Tornado were safe was enough for Diego to slip back into sleep, and Bernardo just stroked his cheek until he was sure Diego was deeply asleep again. Bernardo then brought the damp cloth to Diego’s cheeks, softly washing the dirt from Diego’s skin. His touch was featherlight, not wanting to wake Diego again when he clearly didn’t have the strength to stay awake.
After that, Bernardo worked in complete silence, just washing the dirt from Diego’s cheeks, and then Diego’s neck. His costume covered everything else except the wound, and that had already been taken care of. But just as Bernardo placed the dirty, damp cloth to the side, he noticed a thin sheen of sweat on Diego’s skin. He felt Diego’s forehead again, still feeling too warm as the fever burned within him. Hopefully it would burn itself out soon. Diego would need all of his strength to recover from this wound.
Diego hadn’t been at breakfast. He also hadn’t been home for lunch. Alejandro hoped that Diego was just in town, with his friends, and that he was alright. It really was not like Diego to go for so long without at least telling his father where he would be going. The only thing he could think of was that Diego had taken a spur of the moment trip, perhaps to the mission, as potentially someone in town wanted his presence. Still, Diego usually stopped by the hacienda to tell his father where he was going, but perhaps this was an emergency. Alejandro just hoped that Diego came home soon, he missed him.
It was evening by the time that Alejandro had been able to return to Zorro’s side without arousing suspicion. It took a little while for him to get the deaf-mute’s attention inside, but eventually Bernardo unlocked the door upon seeing him.
“You should get some rest, Bernardo.” Alejandro said, doing his best to mime, seeing the exhaustion on Bernardo’s face. “I’ll watch over him for the night.”
Bernardo seemed torn, looking at Zorro with forlorn eyes, obviously not wanting to part from the hero. Alejandro placed his hand on Bernardo’s shoulder, miming “I’ll fetch you if I need you.”
While the man clearly still did not want to go, he did nod. Alejandro wondered if the man had slept the previous night, but whatever had exhausted him was catching up to him. Bernardo took one last look at Zorro, but he went to the door. He knocked three times in a rhythm, and then again. Alejandro realized he was setting up a code for him to use, so he nodded, showing he understood. At least Alejandro could hear the knocks when Bernardo wanted back in.
Alejandro sat at Zorro’s bedside, watching the hero sleep with a worried expression. Zorro’s eyes darted around under his eyelids, his body restless and trembling. Alejandro pressed his hand to Zorro’s forehead, and frowned at the heat he found. All they could do now was hope that an infection had not taken hold and that what was causing this fever would not be as serious as that. An infection would mean Alejandro would need to fetch a doctor, and he hoped that he wouldn’t have to do that. Alejandro grabbed another cloth, it seemed Bernardo had restocked while he was gone, and he dipped it in the cool water.
Carefully, Alejandro brought the cool cloth to Zorro’s collarbone, deciding to forgo touching the man’s face since the slightest touch to his mask had woken him the last time. Tiny beads of sweat had formed across Zorro’s skin, and he softly wiped them away, hoping the cool water would help break the man’s fever. He brushed the cloth over Zorro’s chest, carefully avoiding the bandages around his waist.
As he brushed the cloth over Zorro’s arms, he saw something rather incredible. Zorro also had a scar on his left wrist that Alejandro could’ve sworn looked exactly like Diego’s. He lifted Zorro’s hand, taking great care to be as careful as possible, examining the scar curiously. It was the same length, same width, seemed just as old as Diego’s.
“You know, my son has a scar just like this.” Alejandro murmured. He wasn’t quite sure why he was talking to an unconscious man, but he hoped that his voice could bring the hero some kind of comfort as he slept. “Though, I’m sure you got yours a different way, being the master swordsman that you are. You probably got yours as you honed your incredible skill. My son fell out of a tree, heh.”
A soft moan filled the air, and Zorro’s eyes fluttered open. His brown eyes were glassy and dazed, and it took them a moment to focus on Alejandro.
“Father?” Zorro murmured, his voice weak and confused.
“Shh, it’s alright, Zorro. It’s Don Alejandro.”
Zorro just whimpered again, raising his hand a little. “Father.” Alejandro just grabbed his hand and held it tightly.
“Father… I’m sorry.” Zorro whispered, staring directly into Alejandro’s eyes. Alejandro frowned in confusion, pursing his lips, feeling a little discouraged that Zorro didn’t recognize him. The fever must be distorting Zorro’s mind into thinking Alejandro was his father. “I tried… tried so hard to make you proud.”
“Shh, Zorro, it’s alright.” Alejandro squeezed the hero’s hand. “You did everything you could. Even the bravest in battle get injured. I’m sure your father is very proud of you.”
“No…” Zorro slurred, his glazed eyes drifting softly to the wall. “My father isn’t proud of me.”
“Nonsense.” Alejandro instinctively started stroking Zorro’s hair over his bandana, as Diego always liked his father petting his hair when he wasn’t feeling well. He just hoped that Zorro took comfort from it too. “You’re a great hero. A savior of our people.”
“No… my father thinks I’m a coward.” Zorro muttered. “Always so disappointed in me. I can see it in his eyes.”
Unconsciously, Alejandro’s mind flashed to Diego, that first day when he’d returned from Spain and he hadn’t wanted to take up arms against Comandante Monasterio. How heartbroken Alejandro had been when Diego hadn’t wanted to draw his sword against the corrupt captain, or even draw his sword at all. But how could anyone think that Zorro was a coward? Zorro risked his life constantly for the people of Los Angeles. No one could dare call him a coward or a disappointment! He was tempted to ask who his father was, as he had a few words to exchange with the man. Zorro had risked his own life to save Alejandro’s, how could anyone ever say that he was a coward or a disappointment?
“Your father is wrong.” Alejandro squeezed Zorro’s hand again, his voice full of conviction, which brought Zorro’s fevered eyes back to Alejandro. “You are no coward. You are a hero to us all, Zorro, from the richest ranchero to the poorest peasant. Every day, you risk your life to save us from tyranny and injustice. If your father can’t see that, then even a blind man can see more than he can.”
Zorro’s eyes glistened as Alejandro spoke, and he saw a single tear slide down into the mask. Alejandro’s heart twisted in pain. His thumb came to Zorro’s face, softly brushing under Zorro’s eye. Zorro’s eyes fluttered closed, and Alejandro didn’t stop his ministrations until he was sure that the hero had fallen asleep once again.
Alejandro sighed softly as he gazed upon Zorro’s sleeping form. He hadn’t met the outlaw often, but he never would’ve guessed he’d had such a difficult family. He couldn’t imagine having a father who treated him so disrespectfully. Even he had gotten used to how bookish and unwilling to fight Diego had been since he got back from Spain. Truthfully, it had been hard, but Diego was his son. That meant that Alejandro loved him unconditionally, whether he was a master swordsman or a dandy. Diego was the best thing in his life, nothing could ever change that, even his son’s inability to handle a sword. But Zorro, he was a hero! He did more for the pueblo than anyone. How could anyone be disappointed in that?
Alejandro shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. As much as it hurt to hear that Zorro’s family didn’t appreciate him as they should, there was nothing he could do about that. But what he could do was do his best to help the man heal. He continued wiping the sweat away, brushing Zorro’s skin with clean cool water. He checked the bandage, and thankfully, he didn’t see anything that would indicate an infection. This fever was most likely caused by the stress of getting such an injury, Diego and his late wife had been prone to them as well, Diego especially once his mother passed.
A sudden knock on the door startled him, and he quickly composed himself, covering Zorro with Diego’s blanket and trying his best to hide his mask with a cool compress over his eyes. He then went to the door, trying his best to calm his nerves.
“Yes?” Alejandro answered, seeing one of his servants.
“I’m sorry to disturb you at this late hour, sir, but Sergeant Garcia is at the door and is urgently requesting to speak to you.”
Alejandro’s heart raced. What could Sergeant Garcia be wanting at this hour? Had something happened to Diego? Were they looking for Zorro? His stomach twisted with dread, but he kept a straight face, looking appropriately worried rather letting the terror and panic he was feeling show. He nodded simply, and then headed down to the entrance of the hacienda.
“Sergeant.” Alejandro said, fighting his every nerve to keep calm. “What brings you here this late into the night?”
“I’m so sorry to disturb you, Don Alejandro, but on our last attempt to capture Zorro, it seems he was wounded.” The Sergeant said. “ One of the swords that did battle with him came back with blood on it. So we’re searching everywhere in the pueblo for him, as he’d need help, and since we couldn’t find him in any place he’d seek a doctor, we’ve started searching all the haciendas to see if we can find him.”
“We want to make sure he’s still alive.” Corporal Reyes added.
“Babosa!” Sergeant Garcia shouted, smacking Corporal Reyes upside the head. “You’re not supposed to say that!”
“But you said-”
“I know what I said, Corporal, now be silent!” Garcia growled, and then turned and smiled bashfully at him.
Alejandro’s heart raced, his mind becoming a whirling dervish as he struggled to think of a reason he could deny them entry.
“Well, Sergeant, it is very late, perhaps you could come back tomorrow.” Alejandro said. “Most of the hacienda are already in bed, and I’d hate to wake them.”
“I’m afraid I must insist.” Sergeant Garcia said, sounding regretful. “We must check everywhere for Zorro, even this late at night. N-Not that I suspect you, Don Alejandro, but the Comandante would be very upset if I didn’t search everywhere, including your hacienda. But we’ll try to be quiet.”
Alejandro fought to keep his composure. He had to think, how could he keep them from discovering Zorro? There was no way to sneak him out without the soldiers noticing!
“Well, if you must, but I must ask you that you do not go into Diego’s room.” Alejandro said, hoping this excuse was enough to deter them. He didn’t have the time to think of another. “I’m afraid my son is sick, and cannot be disturbed. A-and I wouldn’t want you catching what he has.”
Sergeant Garcia looked surprised. “Diego is feeling unwell? Oh I’m very sorry to hear that. I was wondering why he hadn’t met me for lunch yesterday as we’d agreed. It’s not like him to miss our lunches together.”
Wait, Diego had made plans and then not kept them? Sergeant Garcia was right, that wasn’t like Diego. That wasn’t like his son at all. He almost asked when the last time the Sergeant had seen his son, but he stopped himself as he realized that he couldn’t. He was pretending Zorro was Diego. The Sergeant would find it very odd that Alejandro needed to look for Diego when supposedly he was lying sick in bed. He would send Diego’s manservant out tomorrow at dawn, and see if the deaf-mute could find his son. Bernardo knew Diego best since he returned from Spain, perhaps he’d be able to find Diego.
“Yes, he has a fever.” Alejandro said, trying to hide his worry for his missing son. “He’s asleep at the moment, and the noise of someone searching his room will most definitely wake him.”
“I do apologize, Don Alejandro, but I must search every room.” Sergeant Garcia said. “But I’ll check his room myself and just peek in there to make sure I don’t wake him.”
“I appreciate your understanding, Sergeant.” Alejandro said, a vice grip squeezing at his chest. The only thing he could hope for now was that the Sergeant wouldn’t recognize Zorro on sight.
With his heart pounding out of his chest, he followed Sergeant Garcia up the stairs while the other soldiers began to search the hacienda. He swallowed nervously as they went up the stairs, using every faculty he had to keep himself acting calm, even if he wasn’t inside. Quietly, Sergeant Garcia opened the door. The soldier peeked through the door, and Alejandro was so anxious about him finding Zorro that he could barely breathe.
Miraculously, Sergeant Garcia closed the door after just a moment. “I apologize for disturbing him, Don Alejandro. It’s obvious Zorro is not in there. Please let me know when he feels better, I would like to come by and see him.”
Don Alejandro smiled, and he actually meant it this time, knowing that Zorro was safe. “Of course, Sergeant. When he feels up to seeing visitors, I’ll send for you.”
Sergeant Garcia nodded happily, smiling broadly at him.
After that, Alejandro could act as he usually did around the soldiers, chatting with them as if nothing was wrong. He knew nothing else in the hacienda would give away that Zorro was here, so there was no chance of them finding Zorro here. Internally, he worried about Diego. What could’ve happened to his son to keep him away from home for so long? To miss plans that he’d made. Diego was not one to go back on his word. Alejandro had taught him the importance of integrity from a very young age. Where on earth could his son be?!
Alejandro wasn’t sure how long the soldiers spent looking for Zorro, but it was still a relief seeing them leave, Sergeant Garcia again apologizing for the disturbance as the rest complained to the Sergeant that they wanted to stop and go home so they could sleep. He bid them adios before returning to Diego’s room. There was nothing he could do about Diego since it was late in the night, and there was only moonlight and starlight to search for him. But the moment the sun rose, Alejandro would start looking for his son.
The moment Alejandro stepped through the door, he could tell something was wrong. Zorro was thrashing a little, having kicked off the blanket which was now tangled between his feet, with the cool compress laying on the pillow beside him. He was murmuring nonsense in his sleep, but it was clear that he was in distress. After locking the door, Alejandro rushed to Zorro’s side.
“Shh, Zorro, you’re alright, you’re alright.” Alejandro said, trying his best to sound soothing.
“No, no please,” Zorro whimpered, still lost in the throes of a nightmare.
“Zorro, wake up, you’re having a nightmare, you’re safe here.” Alejandro gently cupped Zorro’s cheek, hoping the touch to his face would wake him.
But Zorro kept thrashing, his head moving from side to side, his face twisted in fright. Alejandro tried again to wake him before suddenly going still, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Zorro’s thrashing had dislodged his mask, revealing part of his face. Even though he was asleep, Alejandro still recognized the face of his son.
Diego… Diego was Zorro??? His bookish, pacifist son was the hero of the pueblo who fought with the strength of ten men? Impossible. Yet here he was, staring at his son as he thrashed from a nightmare, clearly Zorro under the mask. Surely, it must be a dream, but he was wide awake, and this was no dream.
Alejandro then acted on impulse, his paternal instincts screaming at him to comfort his son. He took Zorro- Diego by the shoulders and brought him up to Alejandro’s chest, his arms wrapping around his suffering son’s body in a fierce hug, holding Diego close to him. He slowly began to rock back and forth, just as he’d done when Diego was a small child.
“Shh, Diego, it’s alright, Father’s here, you’re safe, shh, you’re safe.” He whispered, keeping one hand on Diego’s head, keeping him pressed against his chest. He knew his son, he knew what would comfort him. It had always worked when he was a child, he saw no reason it wouldn’t work now that he was an adult.
Just as he thought it would, Diego’s murmurs of fright softened as his father held him, whispering comforts as he slowly rocked back and forth. When Diego’s mother was alive, Alejandro would often find a sleeping Diego in his late wife’s arms as she sat in her rocking chair. He knew that the feeling comforted Diego, especially after his mother passed. So he just kept rocking back and forth, holding his son tightly until Diego’s cries quieted down. But even though the nightmare seemed to have passed, Alejandro didn’t let go of his son.
Carefully shifting Diego’s weight so he could hold his son with one hand, he gently pulled off the mask of Zorro. He figured, since he’d already found out it was Diego, he wasn’t breaking his word to not unmask Zorro. Gently dropping the mask and bandana onto the bed, he tilted Diego’s head up a little. Alejandro had burned his son’s face into his memory when he’d come home from Spain, having missed him so much. And here he was, in his arms, sleeping peacefully now.
How could he have missed this? How could he have not seen that his own son was Zorro? Obviously, Diego had gone to great lengths to hide his identity from his father, as well as the rest of the pueblo, but Diego was his son. Alejandro should’ve been able to tell. Now that he knew, the clues were rather apparent. No one had ever seen Diego and Zorro in the same room at the same time, Diego was never around whenever Zorro appeared, the fact that Diego was constantly being accused of being Zorro (even though previously it seemed so evident that he wasn’t), Diego’s sudden evasiveness over his feelings, how Zorro sounded so much like Diego especially when he was in pain, the scar on his wrist… it all made sense now.
“I fail to see what we can do.”
“We can stand up to him, fight him!”
“Calm yourself, Father. The use of force should be our last resort.”
“I hardly expected such discretion from a son of mine!”
Diego hadn’t been a coward in the face of Comandante Monastario, he just made Alejandro believe that. He’d seen the hurt in Diego’s eyes when Alejandro had been so vocal about his obvious disappointment when Diego had refused to take a stand against Monastario, but he’d been more concerned about his son becoming a coward after he left for college rather than comforting his son. It must have been very painful for Diego to let him think such low things of his own son.
“I’m sorry. I tried… tried so hard to make you proud… My father isn’t proud of me. My father thinks I’m a coward. Always so disappointed in me. I can see it in his eyes.”
The only time words had caused Alejandro to feel such pain was when the doctor had told him that his wonderful wife was dying. Never before had Alejandro felt such a sickening regret in his chest that consumed him so entirely. Diego, his incredible, precious son thought that he was a disappointment. That Alejandro considered him a coward. Admittedly, Alejandro hadn’t been very good at telling his son how proud he was of him when Diego constantly ran from a fight, not understanding how his amazing son could’ve become such a coward in a few short years. But… he understood now. Diego never ran from a fight, he just became Zorro to fight that fight.
“It is strange. So strange. It is almost as if I had known you. You seem so much like someone I know. I'm a foolish old man with foolish dreams. So often have I dreamed that my son came back from Spain and he would be like you. Now that you're so close, it is so much like my dreams. I feel almost that I could pull aside the mask, and there would be the face of my son, Diego. I would not pull away the mask. I would not have the courage. An old man must cling to his dreams as desperately as he clings to life.”
Alejandro startled at seeing tears run down Diego’s cheeks as he slept, but he soon realized that the tears were coming from him, dripping down from his face onto Diego. He tucked Diego’s head into his shoulder again, kissing his hair.
“Oh, mijo. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He held his son all night, unwilling to let him go. His only consolation was at least now he didn’t have to worry about where Diego was. His precious son was right here in his arms, where he should be when he was… wounded. It was the smallest of silver linings that he hadn’t known that this was his son when struggling to treat his wound. He felt nauseous just thinking of his son being so grievously injured, especially when all his son was trying to do was help people.
Dawn’s early light surprised him, as he was so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed that several hours had passed. Diego was still overly warm in his arms, but he seemed to be resting quietly.
A set of three knocks in a row startled him enough that he nearly dropped his son. There was a pause, and another three knocks. Alejandro’s shoulders slumped when he realized it was just Bernardo. He leaned forward, cradling his son’s head with the utmost reverence as he laid Diego back down. He got up to let Bernardo in before he hastily remembered to put on Diego’s Zorro disguise. He wasn’t sure if Bernardo knew, but if he didn’t, he wouldn’t reveal his son’s secret.
Alejandro then let Bernardo in, and the man immediately rushed to Diego’s side. Bernardo’s hand came to Diego’s forehead, his cheeks, checking on his fever. Diego didn’t stir at the touch, and now Alejandro knew what that meant. Even as Zorro, Diego recognized the touch of his friend. He wondered if that meant that Bernardo knew too.
Diego murmured nonsense in his sleep again, and Alejandro sat beside his son, stroking his hair over the bandana. “Shh, Diego, it’s alright, you’re alright. Sleep my son, shh.”
His son calmed, soothed by Alejandro’s voice. Alejandro just stared at his son for a moment, taking in his peaceful expression before he noticed that Bernardo was looking at him in panic. At first it confused him, before he realized that somehow Bernardo must have understood that he knew now that Diego was Zorro.
“You knew?” Alejandro said, his voice incredulous before it turned to anger. “You knew this whole time?”
Bernardo struggled again with nonsensical movements before he just nodded.
“You knew and you didn’t tell me?” Alejandro demanded. “I’m his father!”
Bernardo then pointed to Diego and pressed a finger to his lips, showing that Diego had asked him not to tell.
Alejandro groaned and ran a hand over his face. Then he stopped.
“Wait, you can hear?” Alejandro exclaimed. “You could hear the whole time too?”
Bernardo nodded again.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Alejandro asked. “Why deceive everyone in such a way?”
Bernardo pointed at Diego again, and then he covered his ear. He then mimed walking again, and used his hands to mime talking. Then he placed his hand behind his ear to mime the word listen. Then he placed his hand over his mouth as if he was whispering and pointed to Diego.
“Diego wanted you to pretend to be deaf so you could overhear others’ conversations and what, report back to him?”
Bernardo gave him a hand wave to indicate perhaps a maybe, and pointed at himself. “You wanted to do that?” Bernardo nodded again. “Why?”
He placed his hand behind his ear again, and then mimed running and then whispering to Diego again. He made a ‘Z’ sign, and then pointed to Diego, and then mimed a shield.
“So… you could overhear things that would indicate that Zorro needed protection?” Alejandro asked.
Bernardo nodded happily.
Alejandro sighed. “At least Diego trusted someone to help him.”
Bernardo frowned and patted his shoulder in what seemed to be a gesture of comfort.
“So Diego has been Zorro this entire time.” Alejandro sighed again before a terrible thought entered his mind. “Even… even when we drew swords against each other.”
He remembered dueling Zorro when he and the other landowners tried to rush the cuartel to free the unjustly imprisoned Torres’ women. He’d noticed back then that Zorro had seemed very reluctant to draw his sword against them, a sadness in his eyes that he hadn’t understood in his anger. And all the time, it was Diego. Diego forced to fight his own father. Even if Alejandro’s intentions were good, his actions had still led him to fight his own son. Poor Diego. Diego had never hidden how much he loved his father, even if he hadn’t told Alejandro his secret.
Bernardo nodded at his statement, pointed at Diego, and then mimed an obvious frown, telling him that Diego had been very upset at having to do that. He could tell the man wasn’t trying to make him feel bad, just trying to tell him that Diego had been just as upset as he was right now, that Diego hadn’t wanted to fight him, but that brought him no comfort. He couldn’t imagine the strength of will Diego must have had to make himself fight his own father on his quest for justice. He doubted he’d have been strong enough to be able to draw his sword against his son.
“We need to take off his mask.” Alejandro said, reaching over. Bernardo grabbed his wrist, shaking his head and waving his finger in a no gesture.
“I’m not doing this because I know now.” Alejandro said. “Last night, while you and most of the hacienda were asleep, the soldiers came here.” Bernardo’s eyes went wide with fear. “Don’t worry, I was able to convince them that Diego was ill to hide Zorro’s presence, but now people expect Diego to be ill. And… I suppose he really is. But if we cover the bandages with a blanket, and hide his mask, then no one will be able to tell that Diego is Zorro. We could let him rest without worry of someone discovering him.”
Alejandro could tell that Bernardo was still uncertain about his plan, but after a moment, he did let go. Alejandro tenderly reached over and slipped Diego’s bandana off, and then very carefully, his mask. Without his Zorro disguise, Diego looked so young, like the boy who he’d sent to university those few years ago. Alejandro softly stroked his son’s cheek, unable to tear his eyes away for a moment. His poor son. Having to shoulder all of that responsibility, all of that pressure to protect the pueblo and distribute justice all alone, unable to confide in his own father. He didn’t know how Diego did it.
They lapsed into silence for a while as Diego slept beside them. Bernardo placed another cool cloth on Diego’s forehead, and Alejandro just sat, brushing another cool cloth over his son’s skin. At least, now that he knew it was Diego, he knew how to help his son. Whenever Diego had gotten stress fevers before, when he was a child, Alejandro just had to give him water, and keep him cool. When they checked his wound as they changed his bandages, the wound showed no sign of infection. Alejandro was nauseous at the sight of seeing his son’s body torn up and stitched together, but he had to be strong for his son. If Diego could fight under his mask as Zorro, then Alejandro could take care of him as his father. When Diego was born, he’d promised to always take care of his son, and he wouldn’t let him down now.
Dusk was settling gently in the west when Diego stirred again. To Alejandro’s immense relief, and when Diego opened his eyes the glaze of fever was gone. He smiled softly at his son.
Soon, fear entered his son’s eyes, and his hand came to his face, obviously searching for his mask. “Father, what… why did you…”
“Last night, you were thrashing in your sleep.” Alejandro explained, his voice saddened by his son’s fear and confusion. As much as he was grateful that he knew, he would’ve wanted his son to tell him of his own free will, and he knew Diego would’ve wanted that too. “It disturbed your mask, and well… I could recognize your face from the other side of the pueblo.”
Diego just stared at him, with his fingers still under his eye. Bernardo then took his hand, and Diego startled a little, having been so distracted with Alejandro’s presence that he didn’t notice his friend. Bernardo smiled a little, but Diego didn’t seem to react to it.
“I am sorry, my son.” Alejandro said, and he knew his son could sense his sincerity. “I know this isn’t how you wanted this to happen.”
Diego slowly brought his hand back down, and he suddenly couldn’t meet his father’s eye. “Are you upset with me? For not telling you?”
“Of course not, mijo.” Alejandro stroked Diego’s hair as he did when he was a child. “I could never be upset with you because you decided to keep a secret. Even one so big as this.”
Diego met his eyes once more. It hurt Alejandro’s heart to see shame in his son’s brown eyes.
“I’m sorry, Father.” Diego murmured. “I didn’t mean to lie to you for so long. I hated doing it.”
“It’s alright, Diego.” Alejandro smiled down at his son. “I can understand why you did it.”
Diego tried for a smile but it didn’t quite make his eyes. He shifted a little, seemingly uncomfortable, and then he winced, frowning in confusion. “What…?”
“Diego, what’s the last thing you remember?” Alejandro asked quietly, as it seemed like Diego didn’t know what had happened to him.
His son paused, his brow furrowing a little. “Riding Tornado. We’d just gotten away from Ramon, the last man I fought. He was trying to smuggle weapons into the pueblo. I… I remember my side hurting, and I didn’t know why. After that, it’s a bit of a blur.”
Alejandro hummed slightly, nodding. That lined up with the timeline that Alejandro had been able to figure out from what little information he had.
“What happened?” Diego asked. “How did you find me?”
“Your horse, actually, he’s incredibly intelligent.” Alejandro explained. “You must have fallen out of the saddle as you rode, and your Tornado went looking for help. He found me and brought me back to you. I found you lying in the dirt with your side sliced open. I brought you home, and since Diego de la Vega wasn’t in his room, I thought we could use it as a place to keep Zorro safe. Bernardo and I took care of you from there.”
“Oh.” Diego said softly, his hand coming to his right side. “I wondered what hurt so much.”
“I can send someone into town for laudanum tomorrow.” Alejandro said. “I couldn’t risk it when you were Zorro, but since the soldiers now think that Diego de la Vega isn’t feeling well, we can ask for it without repercussions.”
“The soldiers?” Diego asked, becoming afraid. “Why were the soldiers here? Is everything alright?”
Alejandro explained how the soldiers had come looking for him and left easily enough, thinking that a sleeping Zorro was a sleeping Diego. That calmed Diego visibly.
“Thank goodness.” Diego murmured. “I never wanted to put anyone in danger.”
Alejandro cupped Diego’s jawline, brushing his thumb over his cheek.
“Bernardo,” Alejandro muttered softly, and the man turned to him. “Can you give me and my son a moment alone?”
Bernardo looked to Diego, who nodded. Alejandro wasn’t sure of what had happened to make Bernardo so loyal to Diego, but he was glad his son had someone who would always stand by his side. It was clear Bernardo didn’t want to go, but he still listened to Diego, and he stood. He mimed getting Diego some water and food, and Diego smiled gratefully.
“That would be nice, Bernardo, thank you.”
Bernardo smiled at his son, and then he slipped out of the room. Now that he and Diego were alone, Alejandro sighed heavily.
“Why didn’t you tell me, mijo?” Alejandro murmured, asking the question that had been burning within him since he found out. “You know I wouldn’t have told anyone. You didn’t have to make me think that you had changed so much since I sent you to Spain.”
“Because I knew being Zorro would put you in danger, and I couldn’t risk that.” Diego whispered, his voice tinted with shyness and shame. “I knew I had to become someone I’m not to fight Comandante Monastario, I had to become someone he would never suspect. A scholar who couldn’t wield a sword couldn’t possibly be Zorro, and it worked. I knew if we took open action as you wanted to do, your life would be in danger. And I had to protect you.”
“You’re my son, Diego, you’re not responsible for protecting me. “ Alejandro said. “I’m responsible for protecting you. I swore to your mother that I would protect you until the end of my days and I will keep that promise. Even if it means dying for you.”
“I couldn’t risk that.” Diego said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. Seeing you get shot was one of the worst days of my life. I’ve never been so scared, not even when I’m fighting the whole of the cuartel at once. I couldn’t knowingly put you in danger, and being Zorro is nothing but danger. I could choose to risk my own life, but I could never ask you to risk yours. I had to protect you, Father, even if it meant lying to you about who I was. I’d rather be a disappointment in your eyes than the reason you were killed.”
“Oh, mijo.” Alejandro sighed, stroking his son’s cheek. “You could never be a disappointment to me. You’re my son, I will always be proud of you. Yes, it was difficult to understand why you wouldn’t fight alongside me, why you suddenly had become so interested in books and music when you hadn’t been before. But that never meant that I thought of you as a disappointment.”
“Father-”
“Diego.” Alejandro said firmly. “Whether you’re a scholar and a diplomat or a dueler and an outlaw, I will always be proud of you. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that. You’re my son, I love you more than life itself.”
Diego smiled again, and this time, he could see it in Diego’s eyes. “I love you too, Father.”
Alejandro smiled in return. This was probably the most honest talk they’d had since Diego returned from Spain, and he was glad that his son could finally be honest with him.
Diego huffed quietly, slightly smirking. “I will say, I’m not looking forward to the worry and fretting you’re going to do whenever I go out at night.”
“I see no reason to do that.” Alejandro laughed, seeing Diego’s attempt at humor for what it was, but going with it anyways. Diego looked surprised at his answer. “You’ve bested me in a duel, my son. Not to mention you constantly fight the curatel and always escape unharmed. You… do escape unharmed every time, right?”
“Yes, Father.” Diego nodded, soothing Alejandro’s worry. “This is the first time I’ve ever gotten seriously hurt being Zorro. Usually, I’m very good at avoiding it.”
“Then I have no need to be worried.” Alejandro said. “I trust in your skills.”
Diego smiled. “Thank you, Father. I’m glad Zorro is skilled enough to earn your trust.”
“I did wonder what happened to your skills when you came back.” Alejandro mused. “When you left, I was sure you’d become the best swordsman in California before age thirty. But I suppose I wasn’t wrong, I just thought it would be under the name de la Vega.”
Diego chuckled. “So did I. I wish I could’ve shown you the medals and trophies I won back in Spain for fencing. You would’ve been so proud.”
“Medals and trophies?” Alejandro asked, confused. This was the first time Diego had ever mentioned anything of the sort since he came back.
“Yes.” Diego nodded. “I won several. I was one of the best swordsmen at university.”
“Where are they? Did you hide them?”
“Yes… at the bottom of the ocean.” Diego said wistfully. “I was warned our bags would be searched when we arrived in Los Angeles, so in order to keep up the illusion that I was completely inept with a sword, I had Bernardo throw them out the port window.”
“That’s a shame.” Alejandro said. “I would’ve liked to have seen them. And shown them off.”
“I can always go swimming the next time I go to the coast.” Diego smirked, and they both laughed together. A somewhat heavy tension between them dissolved softly into nonexistence.
Bernardo soon returned with some soup and a glass of water for Diego. His son went to sit up, before he immediately fell back into the pillows, whimpering in pain and clutching his right side.
“Easy, son.” Alejandro soothed, helping Diego adjust, sliding behind him so he could keep Diego up, maneuvering him into a sitting position. “You’re not ready for that yet. Just let us help you.”
“I don’t seem to have a choice in that.” Diego muttered, and Alejandro could hear the slight bitterness in Diego’s voice. His son had always been independent, and Alejandro knew how difficult it was for him to accept help sometimes.
“The more you rest, the faster you’ll heal.” Alejandro murmured. “I can certainly attest to that.”
Diego huffed quietly, still obviously upset at his situation, but he didn’t protest further. Bernardo could also clearly sense Diego’s desire to not be dependent on them, as he fed Diego as quickly as he could without making him sick so Diego wouldn’t have to deal with being so weak for longer than he had to. Alejandro could tell his son’s strength was waning as he finished, and when Diego was finished, he gently moved so Diego was resting against the pillows again. It took a moment for Diego to adjust and get comfortable again, but his eyes were half-lidded by the time he was done, clearly exhausted.
“Sleep, my son.” Alejandro whispered. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
It was barely a few minutes between Diego nodding softly and Diego’s breathing evening out as he slipped back into sleep. Alejandro stayed with him the entire night, promising himself that he’d watch over Diego until his son was fully healed and riding for justice again.
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razzek · 1 year ago
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This is going to be hard to find so, to anyone else who was on James Somerton's Patreon until last night, can anyone help me find out the sources of his Revolutionary Girl Utena video? I really enjoyed that and I'd like to give whoever he got it from some love.
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hiraganasakura · 2 years ago
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Been playing Octopath, I finally have all eight characters!!!
There are definitely some stories I'm more invested in than others but nonetheless I've been pleasantly surprised to find that I'm pretty invested in all of them! Like they do a lot to make you care about the characters just within their first chapters. From what I've seen so far the writing seems to be a step up from the first game imho
Also a small little detail I noticed: I love that the character's say one another's names in battle! They didn't do that in the first game! Like when a character Breaks an opponent the next one that has a turn will praise them. Or when a character's low on health another will concernedly call out their name. It's such a little detail but it makes my heart so so happy <3
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alexis-royce · 1 year ago
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I can see some folks in the notes going "Oh no, I don't recognize this or that genre, I guess I'm not sicko enough to call myself a horror fan yet 😔"
And no no no! Kill this fan culture that demands you have a doctorate in your favorite subject before you're allowed to call yourself a fan! As you can see here, Horror is an exceptionally varied genre, and that's due in large part to how accessible it is! Anyone with a camera, a few free weekends, and the imagination to say "Hey, wouldn't it be fucked up if [blank]" can make a Z-Budget romp!
Whether you've seen a handful of classics, or hyperfixate on one franchise, or enjoy a scattershot clutch of films, you're a fan of the stuff that YOU enjoy, and that is the only prerequisite to calling yourself a fan.
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acsylia · 2 years ago
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this is my botw update, link has been stuck halfway into Vah Rudania since xmas, i have been distracted... that's not even mentioning how much time i still spend on 14 and abex (and my new dos2 game, this is like the 5th time i'm going through fort joy if not more oops), but i'll at the very least pick the game back up once everyone starts playing the sequel
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kirider · 14 days ago
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Your art for it is so cute, what's Kamen Rider SD? I want to get into it :D
yesss.... fall into my trap... mwhahaha >:3c (also thank you ^v^)
SD in general means Super Deformed, it's a chibi style that's not unique to Kamen Rider (Gundam also has a bunch of SD stuff, mentioning it here bc i love those models :3)
But since you're asking in relation with my art, here's the ones I made art for:
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SD The Great Battle
A series of videogames that's a crossover between Kamen Rider, Gundam and Ultraman characters, all in the SD style. An original character called Fighter Roar joins the team from the second game on. They're very fun and wacky game that don't really have a coherent plot but we love them for that :3 In IV they get a giant robot (Compatible Kaiser my beloved) and in V they're cowboys. I love the cowboy outfits so much. Games one to five have english fan translations, now I need someone to translate Gaia Saver because apparently that one has the Rider Killer lore....
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Kamen Rider SD: Strange!? Man Spider (or simply Kamen Rider SD OVA)
If you've been around the fandom you probably already know this one. It's a 30 minutes short where RX and the other Battle Riders (Ichigo and ZX) have to rescue RX's crush from shocker, with the help of the Mechanic Riders (V3, X and Super1). Wild Team (Stronger, Amazon and Nigo) appears for like. 3 minutes total at the end but they're my darlings and I love them. Other very important thing in this short is the Rider Carrier, a giant robot grasshopper that acts as their base and I think every version of the riders shoul have a giant grasshopper base not just the SDs u.u This short is apparently an adaptation from the Mighty Riders manga, but I haven't investigated it yet so I can't confirm that. It's also connected to a couple more SD videogames, Sortie!! Rider Machines and Run! Mighty Riders (the team names come from here as far as I can tell)
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Kamen Rider SD: Hurricane Legend / Kamen Rider SD: Legend of the Stormy Age
(listen. I know the direct translation is the first one. But the second one is on the back cover so if they gave it an official english title I'm using that :P)
This is probably the one you're asking for, but I wanted to use the excuse to talk about the other two :P
I'll be honest, going in blind on this one is probably the best experience. Do not look up panels you will get spoiled. The basic plot is V3 and Riderman travel around to recruit the other Riders to defeat Shocker. I want to talk about it more but again, I had so much fun going "WHAT!?!" while reading it that I must resist- Might post more about them but will tag it as spoilers
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Other SD stuff that I care less about, for completionist sake:
• there's a third SD manga (Kamen Rider SD: Roaring Laughs School) that I know nothing of (I think it's a 4koma gag manga? I'll be honest I'm not very interested in it so I haven't done much research);
• the most recent SD game is SD Shin Kamen Rider Rumble, a game for the movie, but that one seems to be simply a side scroller so again, no interest from me;
• Lost Heroes 1 and 2 technically use chibi-ish versions of Riders, Gundams and Ultramen, and are part of the Compati Hero series (the same series as The Great Battle), but they don't have SD in the title;
•there's. sooooo many sports games in the Compati Hero series. I like the Battle Dodgeball ones :3 Also speaking of Compati Hero, special mention to Super Hero Operations because that's the next one I wanna play, I get to meet Zubat, Metalder and a bunch of others there :3
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nachosncheezies · 3 months ago
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In defense of late-canon x files (including the revivals)
I was thinking about this poll after I commented on it, and I kinda want to be brave and say more.
Short answer to the poll's question before I go any further: If you're a new fan and a sensitive sort who thinks you'll struggle with your blorbos Really Going Through It and you really need a happy ending, I suggest you stop at the end of season 8. Do not pass go, do not look at spoilers. Disregard this post entirely, close the internet, and go look at something that makes you happy. (Also fuck every part of society that characterizes sensitivity as inherently weak and bad and some kind of personal failing, you are valid.)
That said, "quality" as a concept is entirely subjective, and the question of whether or not there's a decline in quality for any story is wholly subjective, too. In the case of x files? I'm not convinced there is a decline. I am going to be upfront that I haven't yet watched past season 8, though I am almost completely spoiled on events after that - and the reason I haven't watched yet is not because of how I know events are going to unfold, but simply because I don't want it to end!!! Ohh, the tension between "I CAN'T WAIT!!!" and "Nooo don't be over D:"
When I first came to txf fandom on tumblr and gradually became spoiled about what happens in late canon though, I was often left uncomfortable and tbh kinda queasy about it. As I said in my comment on the poll, the hate for especially the revival and IWTB, or to a lesser extent even seasons 8 & 9, is very well documented. But! There are other takes to be found here on tumblr if you figure out where to look, and my feelings have changed!
The thing is, I have yet to find myself in any fandom where there isn't a vocal subset of fans who dislike the story after a certain point. I am not joking when I say that no one hates the things they love as passionately as sci-fi and fantasy fans. In my experience, it often hinges on the extent to which a viewer has strong notions on where they would like the characters to end up. In particular with series where shipping is a dominant component for the bulk of a fandom, I have almost universally found that there comes some turning point in the story where "let them be happy you cowards" is the dominant view, and things that compromise the attainment of a degree of romantic stability and/or domesticity are, to many fans, annoying at best and despicable at worst. But! As one tagset on the linked poll said:
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and I think for any fandom, that last tag especially is so so so important. (I think that's harder for people watching a weekly series live, bc you have so much time to analyze and speculate and dream before the next breadcrumb drops, but I digress.)
So why am I saying this and how do I apply it to x files? Well, I eventually found that there are also a subset of fans who find redeeming things right up to the very end and actually quite like the whole thing! The things that I had seen people rage and ventpost so much about honestly never quite sounded to me as "out of character" or "untrue to the story" etc as those same ventposts made them sound. And I've discovered I'm not the only one who felt that way. Do I love that the spooky squad had to go through all of those things? No, those poor guys D: Life is hard and they have been through so much trauma. But do those events and their choices make sense to me in light of everything that came before? Yes! And I honestly can't wait to see them fight to overcome those things, breaking, healing, always learning, always growing, always getting better.
So if you're wondering "where does it go wrong"... well, I'm a completionist, as many people who've answered that post are, but also my personal opinion is that I don't think it does go wrong. If you're new and interested in exploring why I've gone from "vaguely queasy" to "excited" about the whole thing, or want to maybe balance out the impressions you're getting about the later seasons before deciding whether or not you want to see the whole thing, I'll put a few blog names in the comments.
Final admission: even once I started feeling a little more confident in the possibility that "actually ok maybe I'm not crazy, maybe this all kind of is in character and does make sense", there was one big plot point that I was NOT looking forward to and I thought I would never be comfortable about. In hindsight, I think my discomfort came from the negative responses being SO seemingly universal that I hadn't stopped to let myself truly consider other possible interpretations on that point. (I mean my initial instinct when I first read about it was, why are we mad about this?? CSM is literally the most unreliable narrator in history???? it's obviously fake news?????? this must be either a fever dream someone's having or it's a misdirection ploy against whatever shadowy forces might still be lurking?????????????? but for whatever reason I guess I had halfway written that off.) Happily, just last month there's a new post-s11 novel out, and although reviews for the book as a whole are mixed, it seems to have laid the groundwork for resolving that plot issue in a way I think most fans would be broadly happy with. If you're interested in being spoiled about that and seeing how, I recommend searching #perihelion on @agent-troi who liveblogged reading it with receipts, scroll back chronological-style to the first post on the subject and see how it unfolded. (And never forget that Dana Katherine Scully is the queen of denial as a coping mechanism lol)
Everyone's mileage will vary. Each person can feel however they want! But for anyone new, I wanted you to know that the very many ventposts you might be seeing are not all there is to this show or its fandom. Some of us love it despite - or even because of - all the things that went "wrong". I think we just don't talk about it as much.
#i don't talk about it much because tbh it can get *fraught*. and i've had that in other fandoms too.#i added and deleted so many qualifiers from this post over it lmao#people are passionate about fandom which is great! as a concept#but it sucks feeling like most people hate the thing you love or that - however diplomatically it's phrased - you should hate it too#or that folks think maybe you *would* be mad if you just looked at it a certain (sometimes seemingly cast as the 'correct') way#basically it's insane that half the time when i see people standing up and praising the revival i'm like 'damn bruh. you brave'#and feeling that way is partly a me thing. but i've seen posts that also lead me to believe it's not JUST a me thing yaknow?#i always wonder whether the 'vocal subset' in any given fandom who hate a thing are really the majority that they appear to be#or if they just appear to be the majority because they've needed to be vocal about it as a sort of internet support group thing lol#which fair enough i mean anyone's entitled to be disappointed or have feelings#for me? i don't think i can remember ever being mad about a series i liked#i'm just here for the vibes man i very rarely have fixed notions#i say to the writers: go ahead and surprise me. i'll make sense of pretty much anything they throw at me#i also think about a dd quote i saw ages ago that as an actor you (paraphrased): can't say 'the character would not do that'#...because if it's in the script then by definition they *did* do that. it's right there on the page.#and that's kind of me as a fan too.#p.s. i fucking love season 8 i love angst and holy shit it delivers. the new characters are fantastic the journey is *chef's kiss* and#yes i consider certain temperamental even assholeish behavior to also be *chef's kiss* there's so much trauma so much reason for it#it's be-yoo-ti-ful 💕 season 8 my beloved 😍#anyway watch it all watch none do what you want. just know that there are people who would cuddle the whole damn thing from start to finish#like a floppy wet lil raggedy ann doll if only they COULD#x files#the x files#txf revival#txf thoughts#i love you floppy wet raggedy ann doll
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juneofdoom · 5 months ago
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Ze End!! 💣💥
Doomers! Congrats on making it through June of Doom 2024!
Our AO3 collection has a whopping 255 works in 113 fandoms! That is insane to me (last year was 31 works in 25 fandoms)! I'll keep it open for a bit longer and warn you when it will close.
On tumblr, I reblogged 801 works by 64 participants! I'm so proud of all of you and the hurtin' you dealt out to your blorbos, whether you did one, some, or all of the prompts — or life got in the way/ you got a late start and you're still making your way through the list!
But for those of you who did 30 prompts in 30 days, congrats on being a 2024 June of Doom Completionist:
@astaldis
@autobot2001
@bleeding-handprints
@bloody-bee-tea
@candyfloss-kittens
@crimsonlyinglilly
@daryfromthefuture 🎖️
@evangeliamerryll
@firlalaith
@hummingbird-of-light 🎖️
@kamryn1963
@serickswrites 🎖️
@starry-night-author 🎖️
@tafeekafee
@tildeathiwillwrite
@waywardwizzard
🎖️ denotes second year completionist!
If your name is not on this list and you feel it should be, it's entirely possible I made an error, so just let me know!
You guys made this such a successful challenge! Thank you so much for participating! As a treat, I will divulge that I already have next year's list ready to go, so:
Thanks again, guys! I'll reblog your submissions so long as you keep tagging @juneofdoom! See you all next summer! :D
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qwertyprophecy · 4 months ago
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hi !! i recently played storyseeker and really loved it !! i was curious about how you went about designing the story for it ?? was it hard to keep track of all the moving narrative parts ?? how did you decide where to reveal what info ?? hope you dont mind me asking -- i really love your art !! have a great day !!
I'm glad you enjoyed Storyseeker! Old as it may be, out of everything I've made it's still the game I'd most like to make a spiritual successor to.
Answers to narrative design questions after the cut:
It's funny, Storyseeker's design process was so organic that realistically it should've turned into a right mess. But just as organically it lead into design principles that made organising the story a breeze, honestly.
What I mean by organic: As touched upon in this reply regarding worldbuilding, the story kept writing itself as long as I kept asking it questions, so I just let it do its thing. The player is meant to experience the narrative in much the same way, with me imposing as little control over them as possible while they travel as they please and narrate to themselves the story of what they see.
It sounds freeform and terribly unstructured, but I established a principle of design that aims to help the player connect the dots instead of feeling lost in a cacophony of random details. While making the game I called them "paths": routes the player is likely to take or subtly guided to take, that connect together related parts of the narrative. Visually some are literal paths or roads, but they could be anything that the player might follow. Footprints, streams of bubbles, the line of sight of an NPC, the sight of something irregular peeking at the edge of the screen...
A path presents both a question and a direction to go look for the answer. Oftentimes, the exact questions I was asking myself when building the world piece by piece. Where does this road lead? Where are these weasels swimming to (or, approaching from the opposite direction, where did they come from)? What dislodged itself from this hole in the ice and where did it go? What kind of a body are these giant toes connected to? Ie., to answer your question of when to reveal information: when the player asks for the information by moving towards where it's revealed, whether on purpose or unknowingly.
If the player follows the direction they must end up on another path because good answers beget more questions. The single most important design document I had was a piece of scrap paper with a rough sketch of the map and a whole lot of coloured lines flowing across it to mark the paths I was prepping for the player. (Lines, not arrows, since I couldn't predict which direction they'd be traveled in.) By visualising them I tried to make sure none of them stopped abruptly or looped in a circle, and that all the places of interest were covered.
(The biggest exception to this design is of course the dead end of a room that is the game's final area: the temple interior that can only be found by completionists. That's why it "completes" the game by being a narrative dead end, too.)
I genuinely didn't even plan it this way on purpose, but it turns out that it really helps keep track of a narrative when you make a game where webs of cause and consequence are all visually illustrated on a literal map. :D If you're the type of person who benefits from visually organising things, I don't see why you couldn't draw abstracted maps of your narrative even if it's not so visual in nature.
I know I definitely need to do more of that! Just last week I rescued my current project's dialogue rewrite with visualisation and arrow doodles. It had grown into an overwhelming mess of unplanned splitting and rejoining branches and microreactivity, so to have any chance of looking at it without inviting a migraine, I closed the document and instead mapped the whole script into a single page outline of what each conversation is supposed to convey to the player. It's so much easier for me to think about the shape of the story when I can see it in one glance!
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aingeal98 · 2 months ago
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Ask Meme: 9 People you'd like to get to know better.
Thanks for tagging me! @mysteriousbeetle
Three non romantic duos: Superhero brained at the moment so Babs and Cass obviously but also May and Daisy the best dynamic the mcu ever created. And finally I'm gonna go with Logan and Laura because they've been on my mind since the new deadpool movie.
a ship that might surprise others: For comics fandom the main one I can think of is bbrae since it's usually viewed in comic circles with the same contempt/annoyance as all other comic dynamics that change deliberately and clunkily because of tv/movies. But fuck it the teen titans cartoon was my entry to dc and they made little teen me feel so many emotions. Sorry to raven fans I can't hate them even though I would join u throwing wolfman era gar into a spike pit.
last song: begin again by Purity Ring and Run Away by Tzuyu.
last film: deadpool and wolverine. still think its mediocre still don't regret it
currently reading: just finished The Midnight Library and currently debating which book to start next. In terms of comics there's the orv webtoon and wfa weekly and tec and bop monthly and that's about it at the moment.
currently watching: can't actually remember the last tv show I watched lmao it was probably hotd. I'll just go with youtube right now. Currently going down a Supacell rabbit hole so that might be the next thing I watch.
currently consuming: Every Cass fic on ao3 and every good mom Talia fic. Bookmarking all the Cass fics so I can have my own personal library. Also playing the Sims Medieval a ton because I'm a stubborn completionist and I need ALL the achievements.
currently craving: Sleep and the ability to write more words without needing to stop. Whyyy can't stories just write themselves especially oc lore that's existed in my head for years.
Still too timid to tag anyone so I'll just say as usual, if you feel like piggybacking off of this then please don't hesitate! :D
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wildymoon · 9 months ago
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if I hadn't slept at 4am last night and played for 8h today I would do more, here is my recap
(act 2-3 spoilers)
I GOT THE FUCKING LEVELS BUT THE ACHIEVEMENT DIDN'T PROC
on the bright side because Siffrin's at max I get to obliterate everything in sight and that makes fighting funnier
OVER 1000 ERASED SADNESSES. I AM GOD /silly
obliterated the King very easily (forgot I had the bomb too but shhh)
and flames and flood that glitch effect. oh by the stars above. oh wow. YES. but also that was spooky despite me having been spoiled for that
the fact that the smell of burnt sugar was so prominent and yet Siffrin hasn't commented at all on the nostalgie (AND THE TEARS???) smelling sweet is driving me up the wall
adhd moment everything gets a speedrun
ghost jumpscare is very fun, I read through the achievements but seeing one still gives me the urge to just go "WHAT THE FUCK."
Bonbon. is going to make me cry. help they're so cute and they just wanna help and not see their found family get hurt and then shrug it off forever, Siffrin-
this image. by the skies. look at them.
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I do not normally actually laugh out loud at my computer when not on voice call. "we have one of those at home" in Mirabelle's hangout got a big laugh out of me. Well played, game <3
poor Odile went on a wile-d goose chase (this pun was a stretch but I Had To)
impatience moment from me but it's easier to manage than the sugar thing
Isabeau trans moment??
this and Mirabelle's hangout make me really want to stream this game to a friend of mine. they may end up crying tho.
urge to murderhobo. but scared. ask multiple sources and places whether it's a loopending thing if I go feral. get no answer. chicken out because the anxiety always wins in this scenario because FAMILY ON THE LINE. this is probably in character tbh
otherwise vibe through loop as normal
temptation. to pineapple. cause completionist and "what does the button do". but I don't wanna upset them. and I'm scared. hhhhhhhhhh
WHAT THE FUCK?
CHANGE GOD??????
change god is an uwu I'm going to explode (it's hilarious but I am lowkey dying here)
ring ring ring ring ring, banana fone!!!!
oh
oh god oh fuck
....
you BITCH /lh
the final snacktime of this run nearly killed me I don't usually cry but this nearly made me tear up. found family really do get me
giving the King a flower may not have been the Smartest idea, but for some ungodly reason it's giving me Hollow Knight vibes and that makes it worth the confusion
I know this isn't the end but new dialogue!!!
ISABEAU YOU CHICKEN. PLEASE. I am too soft to call you a useless gay even in jest but COME ON MAN
welp here we go again
poor Siffrin
uh
oh
FUCK
GUYS????????
I stopped after the loop ended but it feels like a cliffhanger.
MAN. MY BRAIN. I wanna keep going but it's been 8h and now that I have the memory of family there is literally nothing keeping me from going for OP 2 Electric Boogaloo when I get back to playing. and I don't wanna stay up until 4am again.
I don't have to chain fam runs in order to get You Are Loved, right? I mean I probably will but I'm tempted to make Odile suspicious of me and that might fudge it a bit.
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shallow-between-stars · 16 days ago
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As I said yesterday, I have beaten the game. I've slept on it and chewed the fat of my thought processes and now am ready to talk about it under cut.
Huge endgame spoilers beyond this point.
So let's start with the big one. Varric.
They actually foreshadowed this really well - when I got to that part of the game and heard Varric's voice for the first time in the regret prison I went "Oh," very sadly and the reveal wasn't so much a shock but a confirmation of what I'd already worked out.
Partly this was because I read a lot of fiction and a lot of mystery fiction in particular, and had already twigged that a) Bianca being broken was symbolic, b) No-one else visited Varric except Rook and Varric didn't visit anyone at all c) No-one other than Rook had a Varric nickname and d) During table meetings no-one asked for Varric's opinion and Varric was being very quiet, flat and weird in these moments. Highly social, sarcastic Varric was being neither highly social nor sarcastic. The foreshadowing was enough that I absolutely knew something was off from quite early in the game and the reveal, for me, was much more of a confirmation of what I already half-knew than so much a reveal.
I don't like that it was Solas manipulating Rook, I think the story beat would have been a lot stronger if it was Rook failing to deal with their trauma properly and would have been more meaningful without the 'it was blood magic!' handwave but I can also see why the devteam put it in the way they did.
Moving on from that.
My endgame.
I chose Davrin, without realising what that choice would end with and goddamn was that a gut punch. It wasn't helped by the fact that Davrin was my Rook's best friend out of all of the companions. And Assaan added salt to the wound. I'm clinging to "They haven't found their bodies" like it's a lifeline although I know there's probably going to be something that makes "They haven't found their bodies" even worse in potential DLC like "They've been turned into Darkspawn Emissaries". I was literally ready to restart the whole mission to save him and send Harding but decided to google it before I did and -yeah- the game only took my two absolute favourite cast members and went "Pick one."
And fuck me, I'm still questioning that choice now and wanting to go back and change it but I also don't want to do that to Harding, because she's my best girl and has been my best girl for ten years.
I chose Bellara to break the wards, and she survived. There was something eminently satisfying about Bellara looking at Elgar'nan and shouting "You are not my God!" At him with this mix of anger and betrayal. This was definitely helped by the fact that my Rook wore Elgar'nan and I can imagine the affront that the arrogant prick would have experienced with "I was defeated by a slave???? My slave???" Which kind of added to the sweet irony.
I must admit though, when I saw Bellara get taken I shouted in dismay. I chose Bellara mostly because Neve was hardened and I didn't want Neve to die and then - well. I wanted to punt someone into the sun for that.
I managed to get through without losing anyone else - I chose Taash for the golem fight and to protect the Inquisitor, Emmrich to dismantle the wards (again I didn't choose Neve because hardened) and Lucanis to assassinate the mage (because, well, assassin.) Everyone had their missions completed, so they were all Heroes of the Veilguard, and the lowest rating I had with the factions was with Shadow Dragons who were only just at three stars (because I found a shop in the crossroads where I could sell valuables and get SD reputation and exploited the FUCK out of it after choosing to save Treviso.) All my other factions were maxed out. Because of my completionist tendencies.
Romance
I chose to romance Lucanis, and thought it was a really satisfying, if basic, story. I would have loved to see more layers in terms of Lucanis housing Spite, and does Rook love Lucanis in spite (lol) of that, or do they embrace that? I've headcanoned that my Rook has her boyfriend, Lucanis, and her other boyfriend Spite who sometimes possesses her boyfriend and they're in a slightly-unhealthy polycule, but it would have been nice to see the game treat Spite as less of an afterthought (not even really even an inconvenience, just there) and explore that with a tighter hand. But, y'know, that's what fanfiction is for!
And like... the game indulged my wing!Kink, what can I say.
In terms of the other companions - Taash hooked up with Harding which was ridiculously cute, and absolutely I've headcanoned that my Inquisitor and Lace are swapping stories about their respective qunari. And while they're at it they discover that the two are really similar and timelines are such that a young!Bull could potentially have had an accident in Par Vollen and we never found out who Taash's father is and the conversation gets a little awkward quite fast. Sorry, what? Oh. I think my speculation is showing.
Emmrich caught me by surprise by starting a relationship with Strife, but it was also really cute. I love when stories have older people finding romance - it's a reminder that it's not just for the young. And then Strife worrying about Emmrich in the final mission was icing on the cake.
Other choices
I'm not going to outline every choice I made in detail, but the cliffsnotes are:
I had Lucanis spare Illario for Lucanis' sake and because I thought that choice might mellow Spite out a bit. If it weren't for Spite, Illario would have been DEAD dead, and I'm still quite surprised that Lucanis bowed to my Rook's wishes here. Lucanis isn't a wee woobie rookie assassin, I don't think that my Rook's opinion on this choice should have mattered. But, y'know, game mechanics.
Taash embraced their Rivaini heritage. Of all the companions, Taash felt the least likely to make their own choice, given that they are early-twenties at the oldest. (I'm headcanoning like... 23, 24, to make me feel less icky about the fact that Harding is in her thirties.) And yeah, I've seen a lot of the comments going around that giving a nonbinary character a binary choice like that is... not great... but I'm also trying to remember that Taash's writer is nonbinary, and they were written as baby's-first-experience-with-a-nonbinary-person in order to appeal to a mass audience. Taash is written to be a character to teach people about enbies, rather than to be about every single enby experience out there, which, you know, every experience is different and there's only so much you can explain in half an hour of game content.
I gave the griffins to the Wardens, but if I played the game through again as Nala I would change this choice. Maybe. Because unchecked Blight and Darkspawn with no archdemons controlling them sounds like a bad time.
I got Harding to embrace her compassion because she's fucking Harding. This one was a no-brainer for me.
I got Emmrich to chose Manfred because I felt that Emmrich wasn't really becoming a lich because he wanted to, he was becoming one because he was afraid of death and that's not healthy. Also because Manfred.
I made Bell destroy the archive. Mostly because at that point my Rook was all "THIS IS SHIT. ANCIENT ELVES ARE SHIT. EVERYTHING ANCIENT MAGIC RELATED IS KILLING PEOPLE."
And Neve didn't give me a choice in her mission.
Final thoughts
I said yesterday that this game is a Mass Effect game in Dragon Age cosplay, and I stand by that. I enjoyed the game while I was playing it and will probably play it again at another point, but right now I'm in a bit of a hangover from it. It's very, very raw and the edges are a bit sore when I poke them at the thought of playing through the last mission again. I'mma let it sit for a bit before I pick it up again, if I do.
For now though, it wasn't a bad game, it was actually really fun! I'm a bit disappointed that all I got in terms of Bull content was a lousy letter but that's a step up from a singular name drop (Fenris) and not being mentioned by the game at all (Zevran) that I've gotten before. I also went in expecting to get nothing from Bull given that FPJ is on the outs with the studio and Bull could, y'know, die in Inquisition.
I think a lot of the issues people are having is because they have solidly embraced Death of the Author in the past ten years, and in this case the Author reminded us that they are Very Much Alive and are still Making The Same Choices as they always have. We have brought a wealth of headcanons and analysis and fandom essays to Dragon Age the past ten years and this game kind of stripped a lot of that back and tried to appease it at the same time, which left the world really struggling for nuance. By trying to make a world in which everyone could apply their headcanons, the game made a world that was no longer rich in the societies and cultural nuances that Dragon Age usually embraces, which also had the unfortunate side effect of making the cities and cultures seem sterile and under-defined.
However, there was a lot of environmental storytelling to fill the gaps. I've already talked about this in another post so I'm not going to go into it now given that I've been typing away for about an hour and a half now, but it basically boils down to the game showed us a lot that it didn't explicitly tell us. And that jarred with people because we're used to a clickywheel and explicitly laid-out opinions, and that was missing. I actually think this game would have benefitted a lot from a clickywheel! A lot of the gripes people have could have been fixed by Rook going to Neve "What about slavery?" And Neve responding "In Dock Town? Don't be daft. Dock Town is where the slaves and servants live. It's too poor for people to own slaves, if they even wanted to." Like, obviously, you can work that out from context but one thing I've learnt after being in the Dragon Age fandom for so long is that Dragon Age fans have two favourite games - Dragon Age and Jumping To Conclusions. So yeah. Clickywheel would have helped.
Anyway, that's it from me! Feel free to (respectfully) agree or disagree with me! I love chatting and debating with people, even those who don't share my opinions because that's how I learn to be more openminded. If you read this far, thank you so much.
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hywenhei · 25 days ago
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ASKING FOR HELP: Therapy | Making Amends | “I’m alive, I’m just not well.”
CW: Gaslighting
Every member of the team talks to a therapist to help work out the trauma and toll hero work takes on their mental wellbeing, except Hero. Hero is very cagey about their traumatic experiences, and when asked about it, simply says they don't need therapy. Over time, the team integrate their therapist more and more into the team, and Hero begins to isolate themselves a lot more as they're slowly being replaced...
"I-I'm going to try going to therapy. To see if it can help me with my... trauma." "Trauma? What trauma could you possibly have? If anything, I should be going to therapy for the problems you caused me."
A living weapon Whumpee who slowly learns what it's like to have a proper support system. Learning to ask for help from teammates, with Caretaker glowing inside every time they do. Deconditioning them to let go of the trigger words that hold them back, progress showing in the resistance Whumpee gives to their reactions. Whumpee making amends with some of the heroes, who were initially sceptical of Whumpee's true loyalties, but over time have grown to appreciate Whumpee's presence, and definitely their intel. Whumpee is finally learning what it means to be a team member, and it feels good.
"It's going to take a long time for me to be- well, my old self again. Do you really want to wait that long?" "As long as it takes. We're going to do this - together."
wow. um... whumptober is over... woo?... yeah that's all the deep commentary you're getting from me (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠)⁠・⁠・⁠・
seriously though i'm pretty proud of myself for sticking with this and being a first-time completionist :D see you guys (not tomorrow, but soon!!) for my ultimate whumptober 2024 masterpost!!
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mellosdrawings · 3 months ago
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I hope you’re having a good day! 💕 I shall ask questions 6, 9, and 25~
6. First SSR? Most recent SSR?
My very first SSR was Dorm Uniform Leona who still, to this day, tends to carry my team (except at STYX. Surprisingly Leona and Jamil kept dying even though they were together and my two strongest cards while Azul and Cater carried the two other teams :'D)
My most recent is GloMas Azul!!!
9. What changes would you like to see implemented in the game?
Well, the game is very stingy with rewards. Not just gems. It takes forever to reach friendship lv 20 and forever to max spells for SSRs and forever to have a hundred pulls to have at least a guaranteed on banners and forever-
I like the pacing, it's slower than other games so I can take my time, I don't feel drained because of the constant onslaught of events (I'm a completions sadly) but that also means rewards are even more absent. Plus that means reruns are very few and far in between.
I'm also terribly bad at the Twistunes that ask you to tap precisely on the notes. I just can't finish Scarabia's twistunes at 100% because of it (and, once more, I'm a completionist TwT)
Other than that... I like the game well enough. Maybe a few other gameplays here and there? I liked the minigames in Book 6 (even though I also can't complete them x') (yes I am a completionist xDDD))
25. Which character(s) would you actively avoid?
IRL?
Ace. I don't take shit from people anymore so I would've blocked him immediately. Can't be bothered with his mean tsundere stuff.
Idia would be a hard one too for my own mental health.
And I could never manage Sebek's loud voice. My hyperacusis would kill me immediately around him.
(Also Crewel. I already had a teacher pull a baseball bat while in class and it fucking terrified me. I couldn't handle the whip.)
Other than that, while I would probably keep some distances at first, I think I could manage. Maybe.
Also I am having a good day! Thank you for asking!
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susandnymm · 9 months ago
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The whole little family! Lan, Nynaeve, Mandarb, and Caba - character art as I imagine them for Reborn.
And now that I have the whole set, though I'm tempted to redo Book Lan now that I've had practice, the project temporarily feels complete enough to shift back to writing again. (No joke, I am kind of a completionist I guess and couldn't settle down until I had done them all :'D )
Reborn (178827 words) by Susan_D_Nymm Chapters: 36/? Fandom: The Wheel of Time (TV), Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Nynaeve al'Meara/Lan Mandragoran, Lan Mandragoran & Mandarb
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rainmustfallts4 · 4 months ago
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Let the rain wash over you...
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👻 SIMBLREEN INFORMATION 👻
Blog Information
This blog was created for the purpose of finally tackling The Sims 4 in all of its entirety. This is basically the Super Sim challenge completionist mode where I’ll be doing every single thing there is to do in the sims, and its expansions, with just one sim. This is heavily inspired by James Turner’s Super Sim playthrough and Call Me Kevin’s Jim Pickens series.
I have tried this many times in the past and have failed many times in the past because I struggle to commit to stuff. I really want to do this, do, so I hope this blog will help me out. I hope you’ll join me on this journey!
I also reblog a lot of cats, rain and halloween. If you don't want to see these posts, you can block the tag #not sims c:
Do not ask me for money. You will be blocked.
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◇ Tumblr Links
I now have a navigation page! =D You can find it here. For now, I'll leave the links up on this post until I'm sure it's working properly and everyone can see it regardless of what device they're using.
Tig Speaks | Quizzes & Fun Stuff | Favorite Scenery | Sims Question of the Day | Challenges To Do
Not Sims | Rain | Cats | Halloween
A Legacy of Legends (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces (Tag | Index)
Project Pisces F1: Rainhawk (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces F2: Wu (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces F3: Bustos (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces F4: Huynh (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces F5: Cason (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces F6: Ashley (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces F7: Carr (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces F8: Scanlon (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces F9: Gee (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Project Pisces F10: Breen (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Rain Must Fall, Story Ed. (Tag | Index | Prologue | Episode 1)
Rain Must Fall, Commentary Ed. (Tag | Index | Episode 1)
Tiger's Guide to Losing Your Mind (Tag | Index | Part 1)
Dovah Sims (Skyrim based legacy challenge information) (Gens 1-50 | Gens 51-100 | WordPress)
◇ Super Sim / 100% Checklists
Found here on my WordPress.
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