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harrowharkboygf · 4 years ago

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Game Night

a short post-season 5 oneshot. read on ao3

——

Catra liked to think of herself as a dedicated person. There were a lot of things she still hated about herself—the therapist Perfuma had recommended to her had said during their first session that it would take time to fully forgive herself, to get out of the “self-destructive mindset” she had spent so long embracing. But she at least prided herself on her resolve, her resilience, her determination.

However, it turned out that in terms of determination, she was nothing compared to the princesses’ crazed desire to hold as many social events as physically possible.

At first, during the initial celebration at Brightmoon and the stream of Thank You For Saving The World, Princesses! parties that were thrown in their honor as they traveled across Etheria to help with rebuilding efforts, Catra thought that this was just because of the circumstances. Everyone was clearly thrilled to be alive and happy that the princesses were back to being heroes, and they wanted to commemorate the occasion with festivities.

(It was still weird to think of herself like that. As a member of the Princess Alliance. Would it ever get less strange?)

But then Catra learned that the princesses were just like that. There were endless game nights and iceball tournaments and flower crown-making circles and picnics and trips around Etheria just for the purpose of seeing the sights. Late night planning meetings that turned into sleepovers, and visits to their allies under the guise of “checking in” that held no tactical purpose in the end.

This was so foreign, so beyond her reality; she had grown up in the Horde, where her idea of free time was just more training. Her only celebrations came in the form of stolen moments with Adora and extra ration bars, which she hoarded like it was water in the Crimson Wastes.

But despite how skeptical she acted, deep down Catra loved it, even the flower crowns. She discovered that she was very good at iceball—so good that she and Adora were banned from playing against each other on the grounds of being too competitive. (Thankfully, Glimmer and Frosta were equally worthy opponents.) Spinnerella and Netossa were more than happy to teach her all their tricks; Catra found the couple oddly comforting, a nice, stable, older presence that she’d never had before.

But above all, Catra loved the quiet moments the most. Late sleepovers with the Best Friend Squad (her attempts to change the name to something more badass, like the Kickass Comrades, had been shot down) had, much to her surprise, become one of her favorite things. The old Catra would have scoffed seeing her now, eating sweets and giggling late into the night, but she didn’t care. Arrow Boy and Sparkles had actually become her friends, dignity be damned.

And of course, there was Adora. Beautiful, amazing, wonderful Adora, with her sparkling blue eyes and soft lips and strong arms that always ended up wrapped around Catra. She could hardly believe it was real, that Adora loved her. She wondered if she would ever be able to wake up and not stare in disbelief at the sight of Adora lying next to her, staring at her with soft, loving eyes. If one day she would stop fearing that all of it was a dream.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Glimmer shouted. “Quit being gross and get over here so you can finish helping us!”

They had spent the last two weeks in what had formerly been known as the Fright Zone, and what was soon to become Scorpia’s kingdom. The still-newly-minted princess had decided to use it as a refuge for former Horde soldiers who were looking to turn over a new leaf. “After all,” Scorpia had said, “if Catra and Adora and I all changed, everyone else can, too.”

But unsurprisingly, the place was still, as Catra put it, full of shit. So the Princess Alliance decided to clean it up and redecorate.

“You said we could take a water break!” protested Adora.

“Yeah,” said Catra, smirking. “We’re so thirsty.” She blinked innocently up at Glimmer from her perch on Adora’s lap, one arm slung around her shoulders and the other hand playing with her blonde hair.

Mermista, who was carrying a stack of boxes nearby, rolled her eyes. “Yeah you are,” she muttered. Behind her, Sea Hawk gave them a thumbs up.

Glimmer put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “I said you could take a water break when Adora tried to lift a literal tank without shifting into She-Ra. But that was twenty minutes ago! Let’s go, you two. Chop chop.”

Adora’s gaze was fixed on Catra, a soft smile sliding across her lips. “Just a minute,” she told Glimmer, not breaking eye contact with Catra. Gently, she tipped her head upwards and kissed her. Catra let herself dissolve into the kiss, closing her eyes and exhaling.

They pulled apart only to press their foreheads together. “I think we’re annoying,” Adora stage-whispered.

Catra barely kept herself from giggling. (Giggling. What the fuck, honestly.) “You think?” she asked.

She heard Glimmer say, “Bow! Come help me!” Then she felt hands wrap around her as Bow and Glimmer bodily lifted her up off of Adora’s lap. She hissed in fake-annoyance, squirming in their grip.

“Don’t pretend you two are much better!” she shrieked as they deposited her onto a pile of stacked bedrolls. “I saw you feeding Sparkles at breakfast!”

Frosta scoffed as she used her ice powers to hang a lantern. “I get it, you’re all gross! When can we be done? I’m bored!”

Scorpia delicately set a plant down on a nearby windowsill, mindful of her claws. “Soon! Thank you so much for your help, guys. The place looks great.” Everyone beamed, pausing to look around and admire their handiwork.

It did look great. The walls had been painted a lighter color, and the hallways were now well-lit, filled with softer, more pleasant decor. The clanging of machinery still echoed, but gone was the smoke and pollution; Entrapta had spent a long time working on a more clean form of energy, one that was better for magic and the planet and whatever.

Speaking of the pig-tailed princess—“Where’s Entrapta?” asked Catra. “She didn’t want to come and invent some bot to help us?”

Perfuma adjusted her girlfriend’s placement of the potted plant, trying to give it as much sunlight as possible. “She’s very busy with all her new ethical science projects now—”

“Semi-ethical,” corrected Bow, rubbing the back of his neck.

“—But she was invited to our celebration tomorrow night! Hopefully we will see her then.”

“Another party? It never ends, does it?” Catra said to Adora, who had come back to stand at her side.

Perfuma clasped her hands together. “Oh, this one will just be a small get-together. We’ll throw a big party once all of Scorpia’s citizens move in, but this is just for us princesses!”

“And Bow and Catra and Sea Hawk,” Mermista reminded her.

Perfuma shrugged. “Honorary princesses!”

Adora cleared her throat. “Alright, team, let’s get these last few things in place. We can pick up the little bit that’s left tomorrow morning. I think it’s bedtime.”

——

“And then I said, “Uh, your ship’s on fire!’”

The room burst in laughter. Catra wiped a tear from her eye as she cackled—there was something about Mermista’s deadpan delivery that made all her stories way funnier than anyone else’s. “And did you ever run into that pirate again?” she asked.

Sea Hawk spread his arms grandly. “Why, of course! He approached us a short time later to tell us how our genius and fighting prowess inspired him, and how he had decided to become an artist and build statues in our honor. To this day, his children sing our praises around campfires.”

At the same time, Mermista shook her head and said, “Nope. Never saw him again.”

This unleashed another wave of giggles. Still snickering, Catra leaned forward in her seat and took a cookie off the plate on the table in front of her. As she did so, Frosta opened her mouth wide and pointed wordlessly at it. Catra rolled her eyes and tossed a cookie at her. She caught it in her mouth and gave a muffled cheer as she chewed.

Bow rubbed his hands together. “Okay, guys, let’s get started.” He gestured at the table in front of them, which would soon be the center of Scorpia’s strategy room. Tonight, however, it was covered with a big game board and several playing pieces, dice, and stacks of cards. “Here’s how we play—”

“We’re here!”

Entrapta practically bounced into the room, Emily close at her side, beeping cheerfully. Wrong Hordak followed close behind them, smiling his typical sheepish smile and holding a tray crammed with an almost-impossible amount of tiny pink cupcakes.

Adora stood up to greet them. “Hey, guys! Welcome to…”

Her voice trailed off abruptly as the last guest entered. Catra felt her heart begin to pound; she stood up too, curling her claws into fists. Melog, who had been sleeping next to the sofa the Best Friend Squad was sharing, sprang to its feet, hissing. The rest of the group froze, exchanging shocked glances.

Hordak (the real one) stood in the doorway, somehow managing to look both awkward and stern. “Hello,” he said shortly, his deep voice echoing slightly.

When no one answered for a long, tension-filled minute, Entrapta looked rapidly between the group and Hordak, her eyes wide with confusion. “Sorry we’re late,” she said tentatively. “Did I…did I bring too many people?”

Mermista buried her head in her hands and let out a muffled scream. Sea Hawk patted her arm sympathetically.

Catra struggled to choose between saying What is he doing here and Absolutely fucking not and just straight-up attacking him. Judging by her facial expression, across the table Frosta was thinking along the same lines.

Entrapta twirled one of her ponytails around her nervously, her smile slowing sliding off her face the longer the silence dragged on. Next to her, Wrong Hordak shifted from foot to foot. “Uh…”

Perfuma hastily jumped up, a fake smile plastered on her face. “We’re so glad you could come!” she chirped, flinging her arms around her.

Wrong Hordak joined the hug. “I have missed you, brothers!” he told them tearfully.

At Perfuma’s pointed look, Scorpia and Frosta made space for the newcomers, bringing over more chairs.

“Will you be joining us, Hordak?” Catra asked icily, sneering at him.

“Be nice,” Bow whispered to her.

“She has a point,” Glimmer whispered back.

Hordak glared right back at her. “Entrapta invited me. Am I not welcome here?”

Adora managed to pick her jaw up off the floor. “Uhhh…no, um, take a seat. Bow was just about to tell us how this game works.” She sat down, pulling Catra down with her.

Bow started to explain, occasionally being interrupted by Frosta, Perfuma, and Sea Hawk, who all had their own opinions on how the rules should be interpreted. Meanwhile, Catra hissed quietly, “Are we seriously just going to play a board game with Hordak of all people?”

“He’s changed, I guess,” Adora murmured back.

On her other side, Glimmer rolled her eyes. “Allegedly.”

After the war had ended, the Rebellion didn’t really know what to do with Hordak. Sure, he had saved Entrapta and turned against Horde Prime, but they weren’t just going to let him sit back on his throne. Originally Catra had been in favor of dumping his ass in the Crimson Wastes, but Huntara was having none of it.

So eventually the princesses settled on letting him live in Dryl with Entrapta, as long as he swore never to hold any political power or territory for the rest of his life. An oath they would make sure he held, with magic to ensure it, if necessary.

“I don’t trust him,” Catra murmured.

Adora placed a comforting hand on her thigh. “Me neither, but Entrapta trusts him. And whatever makes her happy, we’ll support.”

They watched Hordak sneer as Perfuma tried to offer him some fruit juice. She frowned back at his rude behavior, huffing in that trying-to-be-dignified-yet-offended way of hers. Frosta looked like she wanted to stick his head in an ice block. Meanwhile, Entrapta was in full science mode, spilling out a detailed lecture about dice and probability.

“Even if the thing that makes her happy is Hordak?” grimaced Glimmer.

Adora sighed, rubbed her forehead. “Even so,” she said glumly.

Bow clapped his hands, signaling the end of his rules explanation. “Okay, does everyone get it?”

“Yes,” said Catra.

“Totally,” said Glimmer.

“Yeah…” said Adora.

Bow gave them a look that suggested he knew they hadn’t been listening at all. “Okay, let’s get started!”

Thankfully, Catra was able to figure it out as she went. The game was fairly simple: the players had to try to be the first one to make it around a map of Etheria, while fighting mythical monsters and challenges along the way. She leaned forward, smirking, her competitive nature taking over. “You’re all going down,” she said, making a show of cracking her knuckles.

Glimmer scooped up the dice and began to shake them. “As if!”

Scorpia laughed and shook her head. “No, guys, Perfuma is the champion at this game. She’s beaten me every time, she’s that amazing.”

The flower princess blushed a deep crimson. “Oh, Scorpia!” she trilled. “You are amazing too!”

Catra watched this play out fondly. Despite her and Scorpia’s…rocky history, she was genuinely sorry for all the pain she’d caused her. Although Scorpia had said she forgave her, there was a while after the war where things had been awkward, uncomfortable. She was happy to see that the former Force Captain had found someone who could make her happier than Catra ever could.

Hordak made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. It took her a minute to realize that he was laughing. “This is a childish competition,” he announced, sounding annoyed.

Mermista rested her chin on her palm. “You’re just mad that you couldn’t conquer Etheria and now you can’t win this board game.”

Hordak stiffened. “How dare—”

“Okay!” Bow interceded, his voice hinging on hysteria. “Glimmer will start!”

They went around in a circle, their game pieces slowly advancing with each roll of the dice. Catra was not thrilled when Glimmer rolled four tens in a row and she kept only rolling ones and twos. Thankfully, she was able to get Sparkles back when she pulled a Brightmoon-themed card and “teleported” her to the little red and yellow spot on the board that was supposed to represent the Crimson Wastes.

Scorpia was, unsurprisingly, the best sport about this. While everyone else soon succumbed to playfully cursing each other out as they scrambled to keep their game piece ahead of the group, Scorpia was the one congratulating everyone even when they fucked her over.

Even Perfuma huffed when Frosta got her stuck in the “Northern Reach”. “This is a betrayal,” she sniffed dramatically, crossing her arms. “I will never, ever forgive you.” A moment later, she cracked a smile and winked at the younger girl to let her know she was joking.

Wrong Hordak landed on a “Magic Zone” square and whipped out a card. “Do not worry, sister! This piece of paper says the Sorcerers’ Guild has granted me the power of…time travel! I will reverse your plight!” he declared. He reached down and daintily picked up Perfuma’s piece so he could place it back on the path.

Perfuma giggled. “My hero!”

“That was supposed to be used for your piece,” Entrapta pointed out, fidgeting with a small gear as she waited for her turn.

Adora shrugged. “Eh, let him do what he wants,” she said. She leaned back and not-so-casually draped her arm over Catra’s shoulders. She leaned into her girlfriend’s touch happily.

Entrapta pulled out the recorder she clearly kept with her at all times. “Observation number two hundred and fifty-three: when playing games, rules are to be broken at the player’s convenience.”

“Now you’ve got the spirit!” chuckled Sea Hawk, who was currently attempting to steal alien chips off of Mermista’s plate. Every time she caught him, he gave her the most lovestruck eyes he could pull off until she let her snag a chip.

Wrong Hordak handed the dice to Actual Hordak. “Your turn, brother!”

Hordak took the dice emotionlessly and rolled it. A five. He moved his game piece to the appropriate square.

“You landed on a runestone!” Perfuma cheered. “That means you get to move ahead five spaces!”

Hordak frowned down at the tiny drawing. “This pathetic image looks nothing like the real Black Garnet. It fails to capture the strength, the raw power that eminented from my runestone. How comical.”

“Your runestone?” Catra repeated, raising one eyebrow. “It’s not yours anymore, Hordak.”

He glowered at her. “In a better life, it was.”

Glimmer narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that—”

Entrapta scooped up the dice. “My turn!” she chirped.

Adora hastily stood up, gripping both Glimmer and Catra’s arms tightly. “We are going to get more fruit juice!” she said. “Bow, will you come with us?”

His grin was particularly strained. “Of course!”

They both looked at Glimmer. “Fiiiine,” she sighed, before transporting the Best Friend Squad to the nearby kitchen.

Once there, Adora immediately turned to Catra and Glimmer. Melog slunk in after them, not wanted to be separated from its owner.

“He’s a terrible person!” protested Catra, already knowing what she was going to say. “I want him out of here.”

“Everyone did terrible things while they were in the Horde,” Bow reminded her gently as he poured more fruit juice into cups. Including you was the unspoken meaning behind that sentence. She looked down at the ground.

“But,” Bow said, handing her a cup, “what matters is that they’ve changed.”

Glimmer took the juice pitcher out of his hands, kissing his cheek. “I agree with Catra,” she told him as she poured. “Hordak might have said he was sorry, but he doesn’t act like it.”

“ And ,” added Catra, emboldened by someone siding with her, “he’s just straight up gross. How someone could possibly find that greasy-haired stick-up-his-ass attractive is just absolutely beyond me—”

“I know! He’s all—” Glimmer deepened her voice, hunched her shoulders. “—‘Pathetic princesses! You know nothing of true power! I am Hordak, Prince of Evil! Mwahahaha!’”

Catra laughed so hard she choked, and almost fell over.

Even Bow, who was rooting through the cabinets looking for more napkins, chuckled. “That’s cute,” he told her.

She winked at him. “ I’m cute.”

“You are.” He pulled her into a hug from behind, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

Adora took Catra’s hand. “Just please try to refrain from killing him for tonight,” she asked. “Afterwards, you and Glimmer and Mermista can start an I Hate Hordak club if you want.”

Catra tugged playfully on her ponytail. “Don’t tempt me. I will run that club.”

Her girlfriend poked her cheek in return before helping Glimmer and Bow stack the cups of fruit juice onto a tray. Catra grabbed another bag of alien chips, just in case.

“Alright,” said Adora, carefully balancing the heavily-stacked tray and ignoring everyone else eying her worriedly. “Ready?”

Bow winced as the tray wobbled dangerously when she took a step. “Adora, do you need—”

“I got it!”

Glimmer shook her head. “Maybe we’d better walk back to the strategy room. I don’t know if those cups can survive a teleportation trip.”

“We’ll be fine!” Adora assured her, and then promptly tripped, sending the tray flying.

——

“I’m really proud of you,” Adora told her as they waved goodbye to the group. They all had to return to their own kingdoms; it still wasn’t stable to be gone for too long.

Catra looked up at her. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you—” She was cut off by a yell of frustration coming from the direction of the skiff waiting to take their friends back to Dryl.

The two of them watched Wrong Hordak and Entrapta attempt to bodily lift Emily onto the skiff, which was hovering a few feet above the ground. The bot was nothing more than deadweight, beeping irritably.

“Her programming is due for an update soon,” Entrapta explained. “Sometimes she gets sulky like this.”

“She doesn’t wanna say goodbye to her friends,” Frosta said. She seemed particularly pouty herself. She had become particularly clingy after the war ended, and probably wasn’t happy about having to go back to her own kingdom alone after spending so much time with everyone.

Catra could relate.

“We’ll see everyone again soon,” Glimmer reminded her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re throwing a celebration once Perfuma and Scorpia get everyone settled here, remember?”

“Yeah,” said Frosta, sticking out her lip grumpily.

Wrong Hordak shrieked as one of Emily’s appendages kicked him in the face. He dropped her with a thud.

“Emily!” scolded Entrapta. “Not nice!” Scorpia and Perfuma moved to help them, which definitely made things more successful. Meanwhile, Hordak watched the whole scene unfold from inside the skiff, not bothering to offer his help.

“As I was saying,” Adora said, still chuckling, “I’m really proud of you, Catra. I—I know it can be hard to keep your anger in check when you’re dealing with…”

“With the former dictator of our childhood?” she finished. “I know.”

“You’ve come a long way.”

Catra laced their fingers together, leaned against her shoulder. “So have you.”

Mermista called Frosta over to their skiff, where Sea Hawk was helping her load up their bags. The game night victor gave Glimmer a hug, then Bow, Adora, and, to her surprise, Catra. “See you later, Horde Scum,” Frosta said, parroting her mentor.

Catra grinned back at her. “See you later, princess.”

From the skiff, Mermista tossed a wadded-up piece of paper to Catra. “I look forward to it!” she shouted as Sea Hawk helped Frosta into the skiff.

“Me too!” Catra shouted back.

Adora looked curiously at the paper ball. “What’s that?”

Catra handed it to her without saying a word, smirking. Adora unfolded it, revealing a flyer.

The I HATE HORDAK Club

Calling all Etherians!

Do YOU hate the former Horde Lord?

Do YOU fantasize about ruining his day?

If so, this is the place for you!!!

Meetings will be held at Brightmoon Castle. Any questions, please see Catra or Princess Mermista.

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raccoonpoptart · 4 years ago

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main six with a demigod mc

creds to the person who mentioned an mc that is a child of poseidon!! in this, the mc will be a child of ares (i made a post about this on my main)

gender neutral!

warnings: mentions of scars, bruises, wounds, fights

children of Ares tend to have telumkinesis (ability to adapt to various types of weapons quickly, and to sabotage an enemies weapon), odikinesis (aura that creates an atmostphere of anger, even bloodlust, within a person), limited necromancy, enhanced physical prowess (enhanced strength and swiftness, strong bodies that are basically built for battle), and all are natural fighters with an intelligence for war. (great with strategies and plans)

Asra

when he first found out, he genuinely couldn’t believe it

immediately teaches you barrier spells, and any protection spells (even though you don’t really need it, ares kids are built to withstand a fight)

worries a lot about you! obviously he doesn’t want to lose you again but knows you can handle yourself

tries to defuse tense situations to avoid a fight especially since he knows you won’t back down

once he learned that your aura can arouse anger and hatred in others, he made a charm for you that neutralizes it (but out of love!)

he does not want to change you, but would crumble if you were ever hurt which causes him to go into Mother Hen mode a lot when you get into fights

if you were ever injured in a fight he would immediately heal your wounds and make you promise to be more careful

Nadia

although she prefers that there be no violence, she would much rather not have you injured so she makes sure you have the best weapons

if you would like it, she would have the best armor made for you

always has nice long baths with you so she can tend to your wounds and bruises

leaves lingering kisses on your scars

you make a charm for her to neutralize your effect on people to avoid making her headaches worse

she would try to diffuse most situations, but if someone in particular pissed her off she would watch you beat them with an amused look on her face

adores when you offer to destroy someone for her if they even happened to look at her the wrong way

if you carry her bridal style to the bedroom in a dramatic fashion she’ll laugh and call you cliché

“mc, darling, vulgora will not stop pestering me about how they could defeat you in a fight. shall we prove them wrong?” cue the signature smile

Julian

honestly he would be too mesmerized by your strength to stop you from fighting

cue the “the gods are REAL?” conversation

100% would stare at you with heart eyes if you threw someone across the room

once the realization that you could potentially be hurt sets in, he jumps in to protect you

fails miserably, but loves seeing you beat the person who hurt him

wouldn’t outright ask for it but would hint at wanting to be carried around

“oh, mc! it appears my ankle is hurt, i cannot walk! whatever shall we do~”

very turned on by your Big Top Energy

has to make sure you don’t start too many fights once you start drinking because he’s not entirely sure if banning is a thing at the rowdy raven, but doesn’t want to risk it

(i like to think when he had the mark, it wouldn’t work on you but you don’t let him feel bad about not being able to heal you. you assure him that you will heal quicker than most)

Muriel

honestly would be super worried about you, he doesn’t want you to fall into the same situation he did

if it ever brought back painful memories for him, you would be there every time to remind him that you are there to protect him now

always makes sure you’re safe, and makes you promise to be extra careful

although he still worries about hurting you, he doesn’t panic about it as much, knowing how strong you are

loves that you both have scars, it helps him feel a little less insecure

bonus points if you carry him around (he’d get all blushy, but wouldn’t protest)

also makes a charm neutralizing your effect because he does not want to hurt anyone, especially you

keeps you from getting into fights, you both become masters of indimidating people instead

he also loves that you can keep up with him! if you help him carry logs or anything like that he’d be impressed

inanna pretends to be too tired sometimes just so you’ll pick her up and muriel will go heart eyes mode

if you’re taller than him you legally have to be big spoon for him

(in his route, you would totally destroy vulgora and morga would be impressed with how you can master any weapon within seconds)

Portia

legally you have to carry her all the time

“DID THAT PERSON LOOK AT YOU WEIRD? WE GOTTA KICK THEIR ASS, MC!!!”

if you are both short you are deemed the Hotheaded Gremlins of Vesuvia

would most likely join in any fight just for fun and to protect you, but she knows you can handle yourself

only stops you from getting into pointless fights

loves that you’re just as fiery as she is!!

would 100% play fight with you, but you make sure to be extra careful because she is soft :(

thinks your scars are SO COOL!!

“i wish i had scars :( then when i become captain of my own ship i’ll be more intimidating! mc, can you throw people overboard for me?”

begs you to teach her how to swordfight better

Lucio

won’t admit it, but he is kind of jealous of how intimidating you are and fears you might be a better fighter than he is (you are)

once saw you throw someone through a wall and fell in love, but also made it a point to make sure he never pissed you off

bonus points if you’re short, he finds it kind of hilarious seeing you try to fight everyone but knows you can obliterate anyone

begs to be carried all the time

“mc, please carry me!! put those muscles to good use! NO WAIT DON’T LEAVE”

has a blacksmith make the finest weapons for you because he refuses to let you have anything less

“i could definitely take you on in a fight! i’m the best there is, how could i possibly lose?”

proceeds to lose miserably, and whines about how you cheated because of your abilities but still loves practicing with you

requests are open!!

#the arcana #asra x mc #julian x mc #nadia x mc #muriel x mc #portia x mc #lucio x mc #asra alzanar #countess nadia #julian devorak #portia devorak #muriel #count lucio

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moose-goosey · 7 months ago

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If Haruhi was in a fighting game (I could see her in Blazblue Cross Tag), this is exactly how I’d imagine her playing. 👏 Her physical prowess is of course nothing to scoff at, she’s very well suited to wall bounce combos. And the SOS Brigade is here to help, but at a limit.

You see, if Haruhi isn’t attacking the opponent while her summons are out, they can’t attack. Because then they’d be showing off their in front of her, and that’s a no-go. They’ll come out and stand there, but they won’t attack until she’s not looking. After a few seconds they’ll leave if the conditions were not filled yet. A lot of her moves are suited to her not looking during the fight. A lot of spinning around, or looking away after she hits you.

She could also not notice her summons when she’s turned around (like she she’s in a cross up), or her taunt where Kyon distracts her (he can be in the background like Anita from Darkstalkers, reacting to the match). He of course could have fun reactions to everyone’s attacks.

Koizumi would have an energy tackle, similar to Charging Stars, one of Captain America’s moves in the Marvel VS Capcom games. Mikuru has Mikuru Beam, which would have to have some visuals for readability’s sake. You could have Yuki do just about anything so just make her Dragon Punch Assist. For balance reasons, the assists can’t attack when Haruhi is being hit or blocking. It would be annoying if you could just set up your reversal if you’re getting pressured. Although honestly, this could be the case, you just need to swap the rules around a bit.

I’d like if Kyon had some use in her Burst meter, like you could spend a little and Kyon will try to save Haruhi. Or jump in from one side and grab her out of the air, similar to what he did that one time Haruhi fell out a window in the light novels.

Ideas for supers

- an ultra combo where she launches you into the air at the end and one of those big blue giants smacks you back down to the ground, leaving Haruhi very confused at to how you came back down so quickly.

- a team up with everyone from the SOS Brigade, and they all do a run pulled right from the Super Driver OP, on their way to beat your ass.

- the aspect ratio of match changes to 4:3, similar to the super heroine Mikuru episode. this is very good for her, as she’s well suited to close quarters combat and wall bounces

And for victory she jumps into Kyon’s arms and hold a peace sign, like that one pic. Another victory, and probably a more necessary one, is the Brigade coming together to do the Hare Hare Yukai. <3

In Dragon Ball Fighterz, the playable character Captain Ginyu stood in for the Ginyu Force as a whole. Most of his special moves would have a different member of the Ginyu Force jump in and attack the opponent on his behalf.

This move summons Guldo to paralyze the foe. That move summons Recoome to hit the opponent. Etc.

Yuki Show episode 3 made a compelling argument that in a Haruhi Suzumiya fighting game, Haruhi's movelist should work like Captain Ginyu's. All of her special moves summon her minions to attack - With Yuki, Mikuru, and Itsuki attacking the foe of their own volition, while Kyon's attack consists of her reaching offscreen or behind her or something, grabbing him by the face, and hurling him at the opponent as her projectile.

#I… love fighting games #and I love Haruhi #so this is a fun experiment that I find myself thinking about from time to time #tmohs #fighting games #me speaks #haruhi suzumiya

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lo-55 · 4 years ago

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Tilt The Hourglass Ch. 12

It occurred to Maul only when they were halfway to the mainland that he should probably tell Jango that they hadn’t died.

Maul didn’t know why he was bothering, exactly. However much Jango might fancy himself a would-be-father for Maul he wasn’t. He wasn’t a father, or a master, or anyone that Maul owed true loyalty to. Maul owed him for patching him up, nothing more. He did not ask to be adopted and he did not need a parent or anyone to take care of him. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He had been for years.

After this job that debt of his should be paid for, and Maul could go on about his life. He could find Kilindi and Daleen, fetch his brother from Dathomir before the witches could twist him into a tool for their use, and start building his shadow empire.

That was his plan, wasn’t it?

"Plans are fragile things, and life often dashes expectations to the ground."

Maul’s head snapped around. He’d heard something again. A woman’s voice this time, one that whispered to him from a space between shadows. In his mind it was painted pale purple and white.

Tiny, pin-pricked claws caught on his sleeve and one of the vornskr’s clambered up to rest on his shoulder, pushing her head against Maul’s cheek before she crawled inside his hood and lay herself around his neck. Her dark body was warm and fluffy with baby fur.

She hadn’t reacted to the voice, nor had anyone else in the ship of freed slaves. Not even those few who stood close enough to hear a whisper away from him where he sat next to a control panel in the galley.

Not a real voice then. Not one from a physical place.

Maul touched his temple, beneath one of his crowning horns, and felt his stomach twist unpleasantly. Was it returning, now, the madness he had spent so long entrenched in? Mother Talzin’s magics had stitched together his fragmented mind with green energy and her own will, and after her death he had been forced to learn to hold it together himself. Sometimes the insanity threatened to creep back in. Sometimes he woke up and it was too dark and he could hear acid rain hissing and see the scratched paintings that a lunatic had put on the wall in fits of rage that kept him living and breathing but not truly there.

It was a terrible thing, the madness.

Being not himself, or worse when he was lucid enough to almost grasp onto concepts more solid than filling his mouth with blood and filling his heart with vengeance but could not quite grab hold of the flitting knowledge of who and what he was, or even what he hated so much that it kept his heart beating when the weaker would have perished.

He’d lost a decade of his life to that haze, in the squalor and the garbage and the fire.

Thrown away like everything else on Lotho Minor.

His nails dug hard into his thigh, biting into the skin there until it threatened to break and grounding him in the fact that he was not there. He had legs. They hurt.

Maul took a breath, slowly, and wove the fear in his heart into a latticed shield that he’d been patching around his mind. It had done enough to keep him safe from the Jedi, but they hadn’t really been looking at him. They’d had no reason to prod his mind for more than superficial surface thoughts.

Sidious had done more damage than Maul wanted to admit, and it would take more time than he had to completely fix it. If he ever could. There were scars in his skull, deep claw tracks that his master had left for him when he lanced through his thoughts and tore them asunder.

He touched the small muzzle of his vornskr. Her companions, siblings, perhaps, found a place on his lap.

The voice did not sound like the mad hissing and the frantic, cloying whispers of his shattered self. For one thing, he had never had a woman's voice. For another, it was not dripping with loathing and desperate pain.

The scars on his palm itched.

Once he was centered again, and sure of the world around him, Maul input Jango’s comm code.

He answered a second later.

“Who is this?” he demanded. His voice was short and sharp and there was the distinct sound of metal being ripped apart in the back ground. What was he doing? Maul had the feeling he’d missed something while he was on the platform with Kenobi.

“Maul,” was all he said.

Jango’s tone changed instantly. “Maul! Where are you? Why didn’t you answer the call?!”

Maul rolled his eyes. Why was Jango so worked up?

“I used an EMP to kill the explosive charges in a bunch of slave collars on the mine I found Kenobi on. It knocked out the comm along with everything else.” Maul wasn’t sure why he wasn’t just telling Jango that he hadn’t felt like it.

“... You know what. I’ll ask when you get back. Where did you get the EMP?”

“I made it.”

Jango went quiet. Then, “Where did you come from?!”

Maul couldn't help it. He actually laughed. A rough, unused sound.

“Orsis,” he said finally. “I trained on Orsis.”

“Orsis. Fuck. That explains a lot. Okay. How did you make the EMP?”

“Battery, door lock capacitor, wire coil.”

“Kriff.”

“Why?”

“Long story short? The di’kut jetii’s wayward student planted a bomb on a timer in the ionite mines. It’s going to blow up the planet.”

Maul looked up to see Kenobi sitting across from him, horror on his face. “Cursed,” Maul said firmly.

“Wait!” Kenobi jumped across the gap to slap his hands next to the ships com, nearly knocking his little lizard askew from its place clinging to his ginger hair. It’s tail slapped Kenobi in the cheek. Maul leaned away from him.

“Ionite! Ionite disrupts electronics, especially clocks and sensors. Miner’s are afraid of it,” Kenobi said quickly.

“Ob’ika!” Jango sounded relieved. “You’re both safe?”

“Yes,” he said, a strange smile on his face, “But the bomb-”

“We’ll handle it,” Jango promised. “Can the two of you meet us at our apartment?”

“We can,” Maul assured, shouldering Kenobi behind him. “And Jango?”

“Hmm?” There was the sound of rocks being thrown against something metallic. Jinn shouted something too far away to be heard. Hopefully he got hit with a rock.

“I have dibs on the dar’jetti.”

“Absolutely not-!”

Maul hung up the com and sat back in the seat to shoot a crooked grin at Kenobi.

“What did you mean by that?” Kenobi asked curiously.

“I mean that Xanatos has royally pissed me off, and I have no intention of letting him go now. If he was at the mines I have a starting point. Go back to the apartment.”

“Not without you!” Kenobi grabbed his arm. “We go together.”

Maul looked at him. His blue eyes were bright and true. Maul’s mouth thinned into a line. It would be dangerous for him but… Kenobi was stronger than he looked. If he had survived this on his own before, he must be. Maul underestimated him.

“Very well. Together, then.”

Maul inclined his head to Kenobi, and ignored the way he burst into a grin. Force, he was so young.

Maul had the newly freed slaves drop them off somewhere where Maul could ‘commander’ and speeder for them. Kenobi sat behind him, holding onto his poncho while the vonskr piled into the front of his shirt and Kenobi’s little lizard hid inside the jedi’s pocket.

Maul turned them suddenly away from the mine. The Force, darkness whispering around his fingers, hissed at him that Xanatos was not there.

“Where are we going?” Kenobi shouted in his ear.

Maul didn’t respond. He sped faster, roaring through the crowded streets of Bando. If Xanatos had set a mine to blow up the planet then he wouldn’t still be around, and Maul had found the landing platform that Offworld used for its corporate members when he’d been poking around Xanatos’ files.

They shot onto the landing platform from the street, bursting past the security teams and weaving between blaster fire until they went tumbling off the bike and directly into the cargo hold of a shiny nubien transport ship. It certain didn’t look like it came through an Ion storm.

Kenobi landed on his feet and Maul at his side in a crouch. He forced the vornskr out of his clothes and shooed them off to the side.

They were like him. Fighters, angry and vicious down in their bones, hunters with sleak bodies ready to grow into muscle and danger. Venom coated their pointed tails.

“Stay,” Maul ordered harshly, pushing them between two boxes for their own safety. He could feel the little female in his mind, upset at being pushed aside. Their bond was already strong.

Kenobi put his little pet in with Maul’s future hunters and the pair turned around right as the door slid open with a hiss and Xanatos came out, his cloak billowing. He was flanked by two assassin droids of a much more basic model than the CIS had used. He moved with a natural battle prowess, and looked down his nose at the children before him.

Maul bared his teeth. Good. It would make it that much easier to kill him.

Maul drew his blaster and fired without warning. Xanatos ripped his lightsaber out of his sleeve and flicked it on with a buzz. The red blade hummed ominous. Maul eyed it derisively. He could sense it from here. The crystal had been bled, but not properly. Xanatos was full of hatred, but not enough.

Maul fired again and Kenobi ignited his own ‘saber. The little Jedi threw himself at the wash out with abandon. He was vicious and fast, the familiar forms he had used in the future nowhere to be found.

Maul ignored the off footed feeling it left him with and kept shooting, careful not to his Kenobi while he was at it. The bolts shot back and hit the walls, scorching them and freeing crates from nets to go falling around them. It gave Maul the leverage to climb higher and hit Xanatos in the shoulder, thoroughly ruining his fine cloak.

Good. It was gaudy anyways.

The assassin droids came after them alongside their master with electro-staves, forcing Maul and Kenobi to fight three on two. Enraged by his loss of fashion Xanatos snarled and launched himself clean over Kenobi to slash down at Maul, who ducked and rolled out of the way. When Kenobi tried to held the droids intercepted him and tried to cut him down, forcing him on the defensive.

He had to dodge and weave the slashes and jabs that Xanatos sent his way. He dropped and swept his foot out to knock Xanato’s feet out from under him.

Maul fired at him twice and had both shots deflected.

“Have you always had such sloppy footwork?” Maul asked dryly.

Xanatos rose to his feet. Kenobi circled him on the other side. Xanatos dodged between the two of them, trying to get them to slip up and strike eachother, but both of them managed to avoid it. The Force curled around Maul as his temper rose and impatience came with it, practically begging to be used.

Maul shot just over Xanatos’ shoulder and steam erupted in the ship, screaming through the hold. The steam burned Xanatos’ arm, forcing a howl out of his mouth.

Pathetic.

Maul caught Kenobi’s eyes and jerked his chin towards the ex-Jedi. Kenobi caught his meaning and abandoned his opponents when he launched himself at Xanatos with a powerful overhead strike.

Xanatos lashed out with the Force and slammed Kenobi into the wall so hard the metal dented. His lightsaber went out and fell to the ground with a clatter beside him while Kenobi’s body fell limp, just behind Maul.

Rage coiled through Maul’s body.

No, absolutely not.

He didn’t hear the speeder roaring closer. He didn’t hear his comm, recovered from the EMP, going off. All he heard was the echoing of Kenobi’s body and his own blood rushing through his ears.

“You shouldn’t have bothered with the Jedi,” Xanatos lectured, his voice slick. His Force slithered around Maul’s skull and tried to poke and prod him into listening. Maul snarled. “They don’t care about anyone or anything. They are cruel, and they will betray you in the end. They don’t understand true power.”

“And you do?” Maul snapped, his voice harsh and echoing through the coiling steam. Xanatos’ smile was a sickening sight. Maul was going to cut his face off and rip the mouth apart.

“I understand it better than any of them. Let me show you!”

Xanatos threw his hand out, intending to strangle Maul, but Maul batted the Force choke away. Xanatos was strong in the darkside, for someone who hadn’t been trained in it.

Maul was born to it.

Raised in it.

Suffered and bled and killed for it.

The Darkside hummed through his veins.

The ships ramp shook and clattered around the ground and the ship itself creaked as power filled it and pushed outwards, away from Maul. He lifted one hand and squeezed a fist to crush the droids on either side of Xanatos into nothing more than balls of scrap metal and wire.

The former Jedi stepped back, his eyes wide. Fear flickered through them.

Good.

Maul touched the barrels of his blaster. He unhooked them from the base and pulled them free. They swung apart, a hinge in the middle keeping them together until the bases met.

Red extended from one side, and crimson from the other. Maul held it in front of him, with Kenobi limp behind him and the darkness raging around the pair.

“You-” Xanatos gasped.

Maul met his eyes squarely.

“You speak of power as if you have it. You have barely scratched the surface of the Darkside. So you covet one scar and one loss above all else? You are weak. Pathetic. The Darkside is born of fear and hate and you seek to control all things. But the Darkness can never be truly controlled. You are weak, ex-Jedi. You were never even a Knight. I have killed Padawan’s, Knights and Masters. I will kill you too.”

Xanatos lifted his ‘saber up to block Maul’s first attack, but he was forced to defend. Each arching strike was powerful and intended to take his head. Each twisted and flash of red launched at his openings and weaknesses.

Over, under, left, right, Maul came from all angles. Xanatos was good, but not good enough. He was no Jinn, no Kenobi, no Tano.

Maul dodged and slash aimed at his shoulder and drove the edge of his ‘saber through Xanato’s chest.

It was quick. Quicker than he deserved.

Maul stepped back and let him fall to the ground with a hole smoking in his chest.

He stood over him, his lightsaber singing in his grasp of vengeance and satisfaction. It had met its first blood with a fallen Jedi of the same lineage that Maul had spent a lifetime battling. Maul’s hood fell from his shoulders and he turned at last to his fallen battle-partner.

He found pale blue eyes watching him. The pupils were dilated and Kenobi only uttered a weak groan. There was blood along his lips and his injured back had certainly been done no favors by the rough treatment at Xanatos’ hands.

Maul walked towards him slowly. He turned off his ‘saber and folded it back in half just as Jinn and Jango came bursting through the doorway in a clatter of armor and boots. Maul picked up his blaster and carefully clicked the ‘saber back in its place before he joined Jango at Kenobi’s side. The Mandalorian was checking him over, testing his ribs and stomach for broken bones and internal bleeding. He head bled sluggishly from a cut along the back of it.

“You found us,” Maul said, surprised.

Jango shot him a look. “I don’t know if you know this, but it’s my job to find people on the run. It doesn’t matter if their petty thieves or corporate hot shots. I’m very good at my job, Maul’ika.”

Jango glanced at Maul’s blaster. So he had noticed after all. He was still acting like everything was the same. Like Maul wasn’t a sith.

“Come on. Let’s get Ob’ika to a proper doctor. And stop shaking the ship.”

Maul hadn’t even realized that it was still trembling under the force of his anger. The ship shuddered and the lights flickered when he draw the darkness back inside himself and tucked it carefully into the ocean of his being.

He spared a glance at Jinn, who was cradling the body of Xanatos as if he hadn’t just tried to kill him and half a planet’s worth of people.

Had Kenobi held Jinn like that after Maul had killed him?

An armoured hand on his shoulder broke him from his thoughts. Maul looked up to see Jango standing over him with Obi Wan hefted onto his back. He still looked dazed, but with the weight of Maul’s anger lifted from him he was much more relaxed.

“C’mon. Let the jetii mourn. I’m trusting you to watch my back on the way to the hospital.”

Maul personally thought trusting a Sith was a terrible choice, but whatever. He nodded once to the Mandalorian before he went over to the shelter he had left their companions in. He came back holding three vornskr and Kenobi’s varactyl.

Jango stopped walking when he saw Maul approach with a bundle of tiny animals.

“... You’re cleaning up after them.”

Maul scoffed. “Obviously.”

The pair left Jinn to mourn his fallen apprentice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jango left Obi Wan to rest in Maul’s bedroom in their apartment before he made his way out to the kitchen, where Maul was feeding their new little guests. Three small feline creatures with puffy black fur and long tails that pointed at the end in a diamond shape.

The three were all equipped with tiny, sharp claws and razor sharp baby teeth.

Jango hadn’t even considered saying ‘no’ when Maul had pulled them out of a small space between crates in the cargo hold of Xanatos’ ship. The boy was a natural born hunter if he’d found the dar’jetii before either he or Jinn had arrived.

Jango hadn’t liked working with Jinn, and he liked even less tripping over him in close quarters combat with a coward who had no intention of fighting them straight. They had done more damage to each other than they had to Xanatos.

In the end it hadn’t mattered.

Jango’s kid had cut him down with a lightsaber of all things.

Jango couldn't say he was surprised.

The Manda had been very loud about the boy, and Jango had seen him building the strange blaster over the last few days. He’d known he’d been up to something curious, but he hadn’t been inclined to ask right off. Nothing had been put together in a way that looked like it would explode, and Maul had seemed to know what he was doing.

Now Jango knew why.

Orsis. Kriff.

He’d heard of the academy there. The headmaster, Trezza, had recruited a Mandalorian years ago. Meltch Krakko may have been Kry’tsad but he was a formidable fighter. When he disappeared for nearly a decade it had been enough to warrant Jaster looking into it and Jango after. Now he was back with the Kyr’tsad and a royal thorn in Jango’s side.

Had Maul been trained by Krakko? He’d been back for three years, and Maul looked much too young to belong to Orsis for that long. Yet, Maul was not a half trained student. He was well trained, a frightening thing. No child should be that good at killing.

It also confirmed… certain things.

Jango came to sit across the counter from where Maul was wrestling one of the felines with his hand, trying to ‘fight’ it for the small hunk of meat he was holding. The little varactyl that Maul said was Obi Wan’s was stretched out in front of a sunbeam that came through the window. Morning had already come and only Obi Wan had gotten any sleep.

Jango set his helmet on the counter and ran his fingers through his hair.

He was too young for this. He was too young for two kids and four animals, and more kids to come. He’d promised to help Maul fetch his brother. That would mean three kids. Four, maybe, Maul had used plural but he’d been vague.

Jango didn’t know that he could raise all of them on his own. He was only twenty two, and he was Mand’alor as well. He didn’t even have a riduur to help him. How could he give the boys all the attention and care they deserved?

Maul and Obi Wan were already independent for their age, and given when little Jango knew of them it wasn’t that much of a surprise. Apparently the jettii sucked at caring for their young. While that meant that he probably didn’t have to worry about making sure they got dinner and washed up it meant that he needed to be more present for other matters.

For the compassion and care they had been denied before. To coax the both of them into trusting him and letting him take care of them when he could. Would it really be fair to ask that they put up with a buir that had so many responsibilities to the Haat’ade?

Jango had been so sure of himself before. And he hadn’t changed his mind. He wanted Maul as his son. He wanted Obi Wan too.

But he had to think about what was best for the boys.

On top of Jango’s own issues there was also the matter of the Force.

Obi Wan had dreamed for so long of being a Knight, and his heart was crushed by the idea that it would never come true. Maul had already proven himself to be powerful in the magic, even more so tonight.

Jango glanced at his blaster.

He didn’t know what he’d expected when he arrived at Xanatos’ ship with Jinn, their alliance held together only by the common goal of ‘stop Xanatos’, but it certainly hadn’t been Maul standing protectively over a downed Obi Wan before he sprung into a fight so fast and vicious Jango hadn’t been able to keep up with it at the time. He’d been a blur of red and black rage that took Xanatos down in the time it took Jango and Jinn to cross the landing pad at a run.

“You are taking this better than I expected,” Maul said suddenly.

Jango pulled his gaze away from the blaster to look at the boy.

“Taking what?” Jango asked, laying his hands on the counter. He’d noticed Maul was more comfortable when he could see everyone’s hand around him. It was just the smallest easing of his shoulders. Jango understood.

“Me,” Maul said bluntly. Jango frowned. His confusion must have shown, or Maul felt it in the Force, because he elaborated. “My lightsaber. And the Force. You felt it there.”

“Well yes,” Jango tilted his head. “I knew about it already.”

Maul’s head snapped up and he sat straight, knocking his playmate on his back. The feline chirped angrily at him and snatched the meat. He went scampering over to his litttermates, and ended up getting knocked head over heels by the female. She was a scrapper, and she adored Maul.

“You what?!”

Jango’s heart softened. Maul hadn’t known. He’d been hiding it this whole time. Had he been afraid? Had he thought Jango was going to punish him for having such abilities?

Jango recalled the scars that painted Maul’s body.

It was very possible that that was what he expected, because that was what had happened in the past. The idea made Jango’s blood heat with anger.

Jango tamped it down so he could speak calmly to Maul.

“When I found you on that ship, the one that you were stowed away in, you lashed out when you were hurt. Every light in the ship exploded.”

Maul grimaced. “I see. Then why didn’t you leave me there?”

Jango didn’t even try to act like he wasn’t horrified.

“You’re a child! I wasn’t leaving an ad alone in the middle of space in a dead ship!”

“You have no obligation to me,” Maul snapped. “I’m not your son, you’ve sworn nothing to me. I’m not a Mandalorian-”

“But you can be. You know you can be.”

The weight of his words betrayed the secondary meaning behind them. Jango watched Maul’s breath catch and his eyes grow wide. His skin paled to pink and grey. Jango winced. He hadn’t meant to scare him that much. He hadn’t meant to scare him at all.

“You saw that,” Maul hissed, scrambling to stand up. Jango made himself stay calm. He made himself stay relaxed, his hands in sight and his eyes open and genuine.

“I did. It was the future, wasn’t it?” He waited for Maul to give a stiff, short nod. Jango stayed very still. “I heard that jetii sometimes see the future, and sometimes they read minds. Mandalorian’s who are more connected to it can sometimes receive information from the Manda, but it’s mostly feelings and intuition.”

“Beskar muffles the Force,” Maul said quietly.

“I didn’t have my buy’ce on when it started. I saw what could have happened, and I saw what you changed it too, with your friends. You’re going to look for the girls eventually too, right?”

Maul nodded slowly.

Jango quietly added two more to his growing list of responsibilities. If it took a clan to raise a child it was going to take the entire Haat’ade to raise Jango’s.

“You knew the whole time,” Maul realized, looking at Jango with new eyes. One of the barriers between them was starting to dissolve. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to scare you. If you wanted me to know you would tell me, eventually. You hate having to make yourself lesser.”

Maul grimaced. “Yes. I do.”

Jango leaned closer across the counter.

“I would never ask you to do that, you know. I would never ask you to pretend to be anything that you aren’t. You’re a feral nexu, and too smart for your own good. You’re a fighter the likes of which I’ve rarely met. Even if I wish that you didn’t have to be. I wasn’t lying, or joking, and I’ve known what you are and what you could be the entire time. I want you as my son, Maul’ika. If you say yes.”

Maul sat back. He looked lost, and confused, but Jango could see a new light in his eyes.

“My brothers. If you take me you take them.”

“I know,” Jango promised. He hesitated. “I wouldn’t try to keep you from family. My buir, Jaster Mereel, took me in. I was a foundling. My parents and my sister were killed by the Kyr’tsad.”

“Oh.”

The door to Obi Wan’s room hissed open and they both turned to see the boy standing there, looking pale and shaken but standing upright. Jango waved him over and Obi Wan came to sit by his side. His varactyle came running off and climbed quickly onto Obi Wan’s shoulder. Obi Wan smiled and pet her head, where a crown of messy feathers was starting to come in.

“It’s good to see you’re up,” Jango said fondly. Obi Wan shot him a shy smile before he sat up straighter. He was far too adult for Jango’s liking.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you like that.”

Jango’s heart broke. He dragged Obi Wan into his side. His armor lay on the corner, so he didn’t smack the boys head on his breast plate.

“It wasn’t an inconvenience, but I wish you boys had waited for us, or at least told us the plan. I would have helped, you know.”

Obi Wan flushed faintly with the simple affection, but he let Jango hug him for a minute more before being released to sit on the stool next to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “But we won! Right?” He looked between the pair. “I.. don’t remember everything. It was dark, and cold, and kind of hard to see…”

“Yes. We won,” Jango assured. “Xanatos is dead. Maul got him.”

Obi Wan looked to Maul in surprise. The zabrak boy hunched his shoulders. Obi Wan’s eyes got wider.

“The lightsaber. The red lightsaber, with two blades. It was real. It was yours.”

Maul nodded, once. His lips curled, ready to bite.

“Yes. It is.”

“But, how? You aren’t a jedi, are you? You’re too young…”

“I’m old enough,” Maul snapped, as he was wont to. Jango privately disagreed. From what he knew of zabraks, Maul hadn’t even hit puberty yet. He wouldn’t have even been eligible for his verd’goten yet.

“But you’re right,” Maul admitted. “I am no jedi. I am… I was, a sith apprentice.”

Obi Wan sucked in a sharp breath. “But the sith are dead!”

“Not dead,” Maul shook his head. “Hiding. A line of Banite sith have been in hiding for a thousand years, passing knowledge from Master to Apprentice.”

“That’s- But- We have to tell the Jedi Council,” Obi Wan said suddenly. Maul lunged across the counter and grabbed his arm.

“No!” He nearly shouted. The lights flickered and Obi Wan’s skin paled. Jango grasped both boys by the shoulders and pulled them apart. Maul spared him a brief glance.

“No,” Maul said again, his voice low and sharp and urgent. “You can’t tell them. They wouldn’t believe you, there’s no proof of what I say and even if there was there’s nothing they can do about it. My- The Master is too powerful politically to be touched, and a religion is not illigal. The Jedi serve the Republic’s whims.”

It was a messy, uneven argument, but it wasn’t wrong either. Besides that Jango had personal doubts about exactly how capable the Jedi Council was. Not just for Galidraan, but for Obi Wan too.

They were fools.

It was still a problem though.

“That’s not all, is it?” Jango pressed, squeezing Maul’s shoulder. He frowned, but nodded, slowly.

“No. It’s not.”

“We can’t let a Sith Lord run free though,” Obi Wan argued. “The Sith are evil! They’ll hurt people.” He faltered and looked at Maul, remembering that he had just called himself a Sith Apprentice.

Maul glared at the table.

“No. We will not let him run free. I will kill him myself. For the pain he caused me. For the life he stole from me. For the people he ripped from my arms and the blood I painted myself in for him. I will kill him for it.”

Obi Wan frowned.

“Revenge is dangerous. Master Yoda says it leads to the Darkside.”

“I’m already entrenched in the Darkside,” Maul said irritably. He tilted his head. “Do you even know the Sith Code?”

Obi Wan frowned. “Well, there’s only ever two of them. And they use that Darkside, and tried to take over the galaxy before. They’d angry and hateful, and evil.”

Again, he winced. Again, Maul didn’t take offense.

“Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.

Through Passion I gain Strength.

Through Strength I gain Power.

Through Power I gain Victory.

Through Victory my chains are Broken.

The Force shall free me”

Maul’s voice echoed with the words of a thousand Sith that came before him. Jango could feel it in his bones, the way the air shifted and the shadows lengthened in the corner of his eyes.

Obi Wan frowned. “That… doesn’t sound that bad.”

Maul inclined his head. “You’re not entirely wrong. My Master is evil. He’s cruel and vicious. And his own master still lives. He has broken the Rule of Two by teaching me. I will end the line of Bane. There is strength in the Darkside.”

“Although,” he added, reluctantly. “The Lightside is not without its own merits.”

“Don’t jetii preach about balance?” Jango wondered aloud.

“They usually mean only for the Light to be prevalent,” Maul said with a grimace.

“But, yes. We do,” Obi Wan said. His face fell. “They do. I’m not a real jedi now. And Master Jinn won’t take me and there’s no one else that would.”

“I told you I would help you, Obi Wan,” Jango reminded him. He hated saying it. He really did, especially given what Galidraan could have been if they hadn’t had the warning from two years ago. “If you really want it, I’ll help you find a teacher too, if you’re willing to put up with us for a while more. There have to be a few Jedi who have less of a stick in their shebs than Jinn does.”

Obi Wan looked at him with such fragile, heartbreaking hope Jango wanted to burn the Jedi temple to the ground. “Really? You think someone would take me?”

If they didn’t, Jango would.

Jango nodded at him with as kind of a smile as he could muster.

“I do. We’ll just have to start looking.”

Maul made a small sound.

“Actually,” he began, “I might have an idea where to start. There’s a reclusive Jedi Master…”

#Darth Maul #Maul #darth maul time travel #jango fett #qui gon jinn #obi wan kenobi #Star Wars #star wars the prequel trilogy #star wars time travel #time travel

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rwby-grimm-guardians · 4 years ago

Text

RWBY Grimm Guardians Arc 2: Beacon’s Fragile Light Ch XIII

Hey, everyone! This is the thirteenth and final chapter of Beacon’s Fragile Light! Here, we conclude the Fall of Beacon and go through the epilogue! As usual, please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Still own nothing!

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WARNING! THIS CHAPTER WILL HAVE GRAPHIC VIOLENCE!

IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THAT, PLEASE HEAD TO THE END NOTES AND I WILL EXPLAIN WHAT HAPPENED.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. THANK YOU.

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(In the vault beneath Beacon Academy…)

Evergreen knew this was a losing battle for him, but he didn’t expect it to go this poorly. ‘Fuck, she’s stronger than I thought…’ He thought. The headmaster wondered if it was because of the Maiden’s powers...or if Cinder was this strong naturally. “What’s wrong, Ozpin? Come out and play~.” The red-dressed woman said as Evergreen ducked behind one of the chambers. “Or are you going to let Evergreen do all the work?” The headmaster gave a sarcastic laugh, “This is my fight and school, not his.”

Cinder raised an eyebrow, before confirming, “So you’re willing to recklessly throw your life away when I’m after someone else entirely, huh.” “It’s my academy and they are my students. I will protect them with my life, regardless of who you’re after!” Evergreen shouted, before he dodged to another chamber as Cinder began roasting the current one. The Fall Maiden smirked, “Quite honorable of you, Professor. Though it’s unfortunate that I have to kill you to get rid of Ozpin.”

The headmaster raised an eyebrow. Was she unaware that Ozma was an immortal soul? He decided to not tell her anything. If she didn’t know, then Ozma could use that to his advantage if he and Cinder crossed paths once more. ‘She needs to be stopped now…’ Evergreen thought. He was aware what he was about to do would probably not work...and that Cinder would most likely survive. However, he had no choice now.

He summoned all of his remaining aura, before getting out from behind the chambers. “If I’m going to Hell…” He started, before smirking. “I might as well bring you along for the ride…” Cinder sneered, before unleashing a blast of fire at the charging headmaster. There was a blinding light and deafening sound as an explosion of aura, flames, and power erupted. As everything settled, all that was left...was an unharmed Cinder and the Long Memory. Cinder sighed, “ Afscheid, schoolhoofd. ”, leaving the destroyed room.

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(Meanwhile, at the landing pads…)

“They’re here…” Qrow said, lowering his scythe. Ember nodded, “How do you think Summer’s going to handle this...?” The gray clad man sighed, “I don’t know… But knowing her?” “She’ll probably want to kill whoever caused this…” He said, a little too honestly. “You’re aware that Summer barely cares about rules, right?” Qrow said. “Well, she doesn’t care about the laws.” The group went silent, chills going down their spines as Qrow said, “She WILL protect her loved ones. Even if it means killing the threats.”

“Whether they be Grimm, faunus, or even human….” The gray clad man sighed as Summer and Ruby went up to the group...

Ruby arrived where her teammates were, heaving and gasping for air as she collapsed to her knees. Weiss had called her and explained what happened to Yang. “How...bad is it?” The young leader asked. Ember sighed as Yang laid unconscious in her lap, “Well....she’s stable now…” “Sore…” Blake mumbled, gripping her unconscious partner’s hand as she too was passing out. “You’re going to be okay…” Ruby said, her voice cracking slightly as she told a hold of Yang and Blake’s hands. “You got too….”

Ember, Gambol, and Arktis looked at Summer, who was visibly shaken and horrified by what happened to her step-daughter. The tallest of the group removed her cloak and placed it on Yang, silently and tearfully begging that the blonde will survive. “Summer…” Qrow whispered, placing a hand on the tallest woman’s shoulder. “She’s going to-.” “She’s not going to be okay…” The elder Rose whispered. “Not after this.” The three Weapon Spirits knew she believed she had failed to protect her family again…

“I promise you both… They will be…” Gambol said, rubbing the young leader’s arm. Ruby gave a small nod, still holding her teammate and half-sister’s hands. “Where’s Pyrrha and Jaune...?” She asked. “Still wherever Ozpin brought them most likely.” Ren said as he sat on the ground, groaning from the soreness of his own injuries. Nora, who was also injured, rested against him as she nodded on and off due to exhaustion. Weiss and Ruby looked at each other and nodded, with the former saying, “We’ll find them.”

“About that…” Arktis started, pulling out her rapier as dozens upon dozens of White Fang members started to march towards the group like predators stalking their prey. Gambol’s eyes widened, “How the fuck did they find us….!?” “Don’t care how they found us…” Summer said in a low tone. The group looked at her, shocked as she said, “All that matters is that they saved ME the trouble of finding them.” Qrow put a hand on his former leader’s shoulder, whispering, “Sum, don’t… This is a bad idea.”

“Keep the girls and their friends safe please…” Summer ordered. “Same with you, Arktis, Ember, and Gambol…” She gave her old teammate a sad glance, “At least I know you won’t fail to protect them…” The former STRQ leader then walked towards the White Fang agents, growling. The faunus murmured amongst each other if the taller woman was insane. Then...there was a tearing sound as Summer’s clothes began shredding as the woman grew to nearly twice her size.

Her muscles almost doubled in size as black fur grew across her body. Summer’s eyes gleamed a deep red as an actual wolf tail formed from her tailbone and her head became more wolfish, growing wolf ears, a snout, and even claws. She had actually transformed into a Beowolf Grimm. Summer bared her fangs, before letting out a thunderous howl, alerting the nearby Beowolves and nearly deafening the group behind her. The group and White Fang agents stared, stunned at the woman’s transformation.

“What...the fuck…?” Ruby whispered. Qrow just nodded in agreement, his jaw nearly dropping. “Please tell me...that you didn't know that THAT could happen…” Weiss said, looking at her mother. Arktis looked at Gambol and Ember, who were just as stunned as she was. The two instinctively put their arms around their unconscious wielders as they just watched Summer charging at the White Fang agents. Ruby’s jaw dropped, before shouting, “HAS SHE LOST HER MIND!?” “QUITE CLEARLY!” Qrow shouted in panic.

The group was further stunned by Summer’s new physical prowess, as she was effortlessly ripping and tearing through the agents like a blender. She was dismembering them, biting their limbs and heads off, and crushing their bones with brute strength. Some agents managed to get behind the transformed woman, before climbing and jumping off the walls of the buildings to attack her. Though their attacks didn’t go unnoticed, as a couple of wild Beowolves bit and clawed them out of the air.

“She’s able to communicate with Grimm now…!?” Qrow asked, further shocked by his former leader’s new abilities. “Oh, we are SO fucked…” Ember said as several more Beowolves appeared and began joining Summer in the slaughter. After 20 minutes of chaos, the White Fang agent eventually retreated, signaling Summer to bark at the Beowolves to stop attacking. Summer then turned towards the group, before walking up and kneeling at Qrow. Finally, the Branwen smirked, albeit uneasily.

“Always made sense for you to be a wolf. You were the alpha after all.” He said, before genuinely chuckling as Summer boop-ed him with her snout, whimpering. “Easy, big girl. We’re all safe.” He said, scratching the back of the transformed woman’s ear. “Now then, could you please turn back into your...uh, human appearance?” Summer looked at herself, before nodding sheepishly. Within only a few seconds, the former STRQ leader reverted back to her human form, before collapsing to her knees, wheezing.

“Holy...shit…” She said, coughing due to the lack of air in her system. Her former teammate nodded, “That’s an understatement. Now, could you ask them to leave? Please?” Summer raised an eyebrow, before looking at the Beowolves behind her. Somewhat stunned, she cleared her throat, before going up to one of them and speaking to it. The Beowolf nodded and let out a few barks, signalling the pack to leave. The former STRQ leader sighed with relief, before asking, “How did they…?”

“You called them here with your howl...I think…” Her former teammate said. He then looked down, before his face went red and averted his eyes. Summer raised an eyebrow, “Qrow…?” He just pointed downward, before the taller of the two looked down...blushing furiously. “Now why couldn’t you have told me that I have nothing on to begin with!?” “And ignore the elephants in the room!?” Qrow shouted as Summer’s Grimm energy restored her clothes.

“Cres…?”

Summer paled as her attention was drawn towards Ruby. Biting her lip, the elder Rose just replied, “We’ll..talk about this later.” The young leader opened her mouth to protest, before ultimately didn’t. She could tell by the taller woman’s expression that there was no room for argument. Sighing, Ruby looked at Weiss, “Let’s get going.” The heiress nodded hurriedly, before she and Ruby went back to the Academy. Arktis looked at Summer, asking, “Are you going to be okay?”

The taller of the two paused, before shaking her head, “Honestly, I really don’t know…”

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(At the entrance to Beacon Tower…)

Jaune and Pyrrha exited the tower, before collapsing to their knees. “I think...we’re safe for now…” The redhead said, gasping for air. Jaune nodded, only for the two teenagers to feel a massive rumble underneath them and near the tower. The blonde paled, “What was that…?” Pyrrha shook her head, before Jaune asked, “Do you think...Ozpin is…?” The redhead froze. If the rumble was caused by the headmaster’s fight with Cinder, then it was possible the Fall Maiden was winning against him.

Jaune raised an eyebrow as Pyrrha got up and started heading back to the tower’s interior. “What are you…?” He asked, only to come to a startling realization. He then grabbed her hand, saying, “You can’t go up there and face her alone! It’s suicide!” “I have to try!” Pyrrha said, looking at her partner in the eye. The blonde sighed, resolving himself, “Pyrrha. You and I both know that we are no match for that woman alone.”

“We have to get the General and the other teachers. If we can get them here, then we might have a chan-...” Jaune was cut off when his partner shouted, “We don’t have time, Jaune! We need to stop her now before it’s too late!” The blonde shook his head, “We need to try! If either one of us goes up there now, we are going to die and there’ll be no one left to stop her...” He held Pyrrha’s shoulders, pleading, “Please. PLEASE don’t do this, Pyrrha….”

The redhead sighed sadly, kissing her partner passionately, before saying, “I’m sorry, Jaune…” She then shoved him into a locker as Jaune shouted, “Wait, Pyrrha! Don’t!”, before sending him to relative safety with her semblance. “I can’t let you or anyone else die...even if it means I have to go up there to die myself…” Pyrrha said, biting her lip as she brushed away her tears as she began to ascend the tower...alone.

The locker then landed, before Jaune kicked the door open and got out. He looked around, before noticing that Pyrrha was no longer outside. “Jaune!” Ruby shouted as she rushed towards him with Weiss and their respective mothers. The blonde sat down as Ruby asked, “Where’s…?” “Pyrrha went to face Cinder alone…” He said. “She...has the powers of the Fall Maiden.” Summer tightened her fists, “Has she lost her mind? Pyrrha is going get herself killed…!”

“That’s what I said too…” The blonde replied. He sat in silence, before saying, “I should’ve found a way to...get her to listen and get the other teachers…” “We’ll get her.” Summer said, placing a hand on Jaune’s shoulder. She then looked at Arktis, “Could you, Weiss, and Jaune search for any more survivors?” The former heiress nodded, before Jaune placed his hands on Summer and Ruby’s shoulders. “Please. PLEASE save her.” Ruby nodded, rubbing the blonde’s hand, “We will. I promise…”

She and Summer then ran towards the tower as the Schnees and Jaune split up to search for survivors.

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(In the headmaster office…)

Cinder sat in the former headmaster’s chair, smiling at the Wyvern Grimm outside the window. “Aren’t you a beauty…” She grinned. The Grimm made a grumble, with the woman smiling, “Shh…. This is your home now… No need to get upset.” Her attention was forced away from the beast by the elevator dinging as Pyrrha stepped out. Sighing, Cinder rolled her eyes. “You ants are becoming significant pests.” She growled, turning towards the redhead. “Would you like to avenge your precious headmaster?”

The Wyvern roared violently, destroying the top of the tower with its wings as Cinder and Pyrrha clashed. Pyrrha threw her spear, only for the Fall Maiden to dodge it casually. The redhead then rammed her with her shield, which Cinder successfully blocked and shoved out of the way. The woman fired a stream of flames at Pyrrha, who dove over it and retrieved her spear, before blocking the attack with her shield.

“You’re outpowered, kid~.” Cinder smiled, continuing the stream of fire. “Maybe you should’ve joined that blonde friend of yours.” The Wyvern growled and roared at the redhead, sending her into a wall as it sensed her fear growing. The battle continued, despite Pyrrha’s fear. For almost 4 whole minutes, the two clashed against each other, trading blows one after another. However, unlike Cinder, Pyrrha was beginning to grow exhausted, due to her opponent’s power.

The Fall Maiden ended the battle by firing an arrow in Pyrrha’s shin, causing the redhead to fall to her knees in pain and hindering her ability to walk...or even stand. Cinder smirked smugly as she created another arrow, walking up to her defeated opponent. “You really should’ve called for help… You might’ve been able to win. Oh well…” The red dressed woman sighed. Pyrrha looked at Cinder in the eye, saying, “Just one question…” Cinder raised an eyebrow, “Yes…?”

“Do you believe in destiny…?” The redhead asked, hissing in pain. Cinder growled, before aiming her arrow at Pyrrha’s head, “I do… And your destiny is to die here.” Just before she could release the arrow, Ruby and Summer rushed in, with Summer throwing the young leader at the Fall Maiden. After Ruby kicked the red dressed woman back, Cinder just laughed, “So Little and Big Red have come to join your funeral!” As the woman and young leader clashed, Summer looked at Pyrrha, asking, “Have you lost your mind?”

The redhead raised an eyebrow, before jumping as the elder Rose raised her voice, “You knew that you were no match for her. You knew you couldn’t stop Cinder alone. You KNEW Jaune was right about this being suicide without any help.” Pyrrha flinched at the taller woman’s words, though she wasn’t too surprised. Summer was a mother, so her disappointment and worry were justified. The tallest of the four looked at the redhead’s pained expression, before sighing, “You are not fighting this alone. Understand?”

Pyrrha blinked at her, before giving a small nod. “Yes, ma’am.” Summer nodded, “Good. Because you have really worried your friends and my daughter… And they want you home safe.” Ruby screeched to a halt in front of the two, saying, “We’re gonna die here if THAT keeps inferring.” Summer looked as the young leader pointed at the Wyvern, before nodding. “I might have an idea… It’s crazy, but it’ll work.” The two teenagers looked at Summer, queuing the taller woman to say, “Let me enter your body again.”

“WHAT!?” Pyrrha shouted. Ruby raised an eyebrow, “Haven’t we said that we would never do that again...unless…” She trailed off as Summer nodded, “Unless it was our only hope? Yep.” Silence fell between the three, before Ruby sighed and put her scythe down. “Alright. Let’s do this.” The tallest of the three nodded, saying, “I’m just going to unlock a bit of your potential. You’ll still be in control.” With Ruby nodding, Summer went into her spirit form, entering Ruby’s body through the center of her back.

“Close your eyes and don’t open them until I tell you to.” Summer instructed. The red clad teenager nodded, closing her eyes as the Wyvern roared at her, shaking the tower. Ruby could tell something was emerging from her eyes as she gritted her teeth in pain. “Please tell me when!” She shouted. The taller woman then shouted, “Now! Do it NOW!” queuing the young leader to open her eyes. Pyrrha and Cinder covered their eyesight as white light erupted from Ruby’s eyes, freezing the Wyvern and Cinder’s left arm.

As the light faded, Cinder went unconscious, while Summer and Ruby separated. “What...the hell was that…?” Ruby groaned, rubbing her eyes to soothe the pain. The taller woman rubbed her head as it ached, “An ability...from your mother’s side of the family… Explanations later.” The young leader nodded, standing and said, “Let’s get out of here.” Ruby then helped Pyrrha, who hissed at the pain in her wounded leg. “Sorry.” The younger teenager apologized with a small smile.

Summer smiled, “Let’s get home. Alright?” The two teenagers nodded as the three headed towards the elevator...only for two gunshots to ring out. The two leaders froze as Pyrrha’s eyes widened, before she collapsed to the floor, bleeding. “Pyrrha!” The youngest of the three shouted, noticing the gunshots in the redhead’s back. Ruby and Summer picked her up and brought her near the elevator, with the young leader asking, “Who was that!?” “Best guess? Lady Vampier.” Summer answered.

She bit her lip at the wounds, “She’s not going to survive those.” “We can’t just let her die!” Ruby shouted as Pyrrha’s body began going limp. The taller woman tightened her fist, saying, “There is a solution...but it’s not a good one.” She then sighed, “We have to turn her into a Weapon Spirit.”, before casting a spell and placing her hand on the redhead’s back. The youngest of the two bit her lip, “Will she...remember anything?” Summer sighed, “Gods, I hope so…”

With that, she placed the spell into Pyrrha, causing the redhead to turn into a red light and travel out the window. “Where is she going?” Ruby asked. Summer looked at her, “You know who…” The young leader went silent, before saying, “Jaune’s not gonna be happy.” The taller of the two gave a sad nod, “I know. But I would rather have her live then to die…” The two stood in silence, before Summer heard a shout, “ROSE! COME OUT SO I CAN FIGHT YOU!” “ Merde… ” Ruby whispered. “She’s hellbent...”

“Get back to your sister and our friends. Protect them.” Summer whispered. Ruby nodded as the woman tossed her her scythe, allowing the teenager to grab it and escape through the elevator. Summer looked around the empty and destroyed room, “Vampier! You wanted me, so here I am! Quit being a coward and come out for your wanted fight!” The black haired woman appeared from the shadows, clapping with a grin. “You certainly know how to impress a woman…” Vampier chuckled.

The tattooed woman was wearing only her sports bra and sweatpants,with her pistols holstered and giant bat-like wings protruding from her back. “I told you that you were just like me.” The sadistic woman said. Summer growled, “The only thing that’s similar between us...is that we are partially Grimm. Period.” Vampier sighed, “Please. We both know that you enjoyed slaughtering the White Fang agents that were about to kill your ‘friends’ and children…”

“You don’t know a damn thing about what my emotions are like, bitch…” The Weapon Spirit snapped, only to receive a chuckle. Vampier shrugged, “Perhaps… But I do know you take great joy in a good fight…” There was silence, before Summer clenched her fists. “Then I will take great joy in putting an end to your life again.” She growled, her wolf-like claws forming again. Vampier grinned, showing her bat-like fangs, “Then come and kill me with everything you got…”

The sadistic woman jumped from the window and took flight, with Summer jumping and grabbing onto Vampier’s left leg. The winged woman looked down and snarled, “You are very fucking persistent!” “So are you, Bat Bitch!” The Weapon Spirit shouted, climbing onto the Bat Queen’s back and tearing her wing open. Hissing in pain, Vampier turned and grabbed Summer’s arm, before headbutting her in the forehead. “Let’s see if you are a match for a monster bat, Queen of Wolves!” The tattooed woman shouted.

The Weapon Spirit grabbed Vampier’s hair, before punching her in the face repeatedly. “I’ll show you what it’s like to face off against a lone wolf!” Summer snapped. She knew that she was nicknamed the White Wolf and Queen of Wolves. She might as well live up to those names. As the two continued fighting, rain started to fall from the sky. Thunder started to rumble and lightning flashed from the clouds. Summer then ripped off one of the sadistic woman’s wings, causing them to crash-land on the roof of the Academy.

As the two laid on the roof bruised, Summer let out a groan, before standing up. She looked at Vampier and shook her head. She had no way to kill the Bat Queen...and she didn’t have time for it. Right now, getting back to Ruby, Qrow, Yang, and the others were the top priority. The White Wolf jumped from the roof, landing on the ground and running towards the landing pads. After roughly five minutes of pure running, she spotted Qrow. “Is Ruby…?” Summer asked, receiving a nod from Qrow as she slowed down.

“Just got back not too long ago. She’s asleep right now.” Her teammate said with a smile. “Shall we head home?” Summer nodded, before Gambol and Arktis came up to her. “We got some...bad news…” Gambol sighed. “We’re probably not going to be able to stay in Vale.” The faunus then explained that for their safety, everyone would probably have to head back to their home continents. “That means Weiss and I will have to go back to Atlas.” Arktis said. The tallest woman sighed, before nodding.

“I hope you will try to stay in touch?” She asked. Gambol smiled, “Without a doubt…” That smile faded when Arktis shook her head as the former heiress replied, “I don’t know… We WILL try. However, with Jacques, I don’t know if Weiss will be able to…” Qrow raised an eyebrow, “That much of an asshole, huh?” Arktis nodded with a sigh. “Well...you know who to call if you need guidance and help… Alright?” Summer said. “We’re all here for you two. For each other…”

Arktis gave a small smile, nodding as she gave Summer and Gambol a tight hug, “Thank you. Really...”

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(Some time later…)

Ruby awoke in her and Yang’s shared bedroom with a groan. “Good morning.” Summer said, sitting to Ruby’s right. The young leader hummed, “Have I been out long?” The elder Rose shook her head, “No. Only for a day. I suppose I should explain to you about that ability, huh?” Ruby nodded as Summer handed her a cup of coffee. The taller of the two explained that her silver eyes were a trait from her mother’s side, which was rare. “Those that have them are destined to be warriors.” She said. “And feared by Grimm…”

“And your...transformation…?” Ruby asked. Summer paused, before sighed, “I really don’t know WHAT that was… Not sure if it's linked to my memories.”

Qrow then came in, “Sorry for interrupting, but we need to talk.” He then showed the Long Memory, saying, “The headmaster’s…” He didn't finish the statement as Summer gave a sad sigh. “So now what?” Ruby asked. Her uncle shook his head, “I don’t know. I was investigating for him, but now that he’s gone…” He once again trailed off, leading the two Roses to assume that Qrow would be doing Evergreen’s...or Ozma’s work in his stead. “I told Yang and Ember this, but my investigations lead to Haven….” He said.

“In Mitral?” Ruby asked, before whistling. The taller of the three tapped her chin, before whispering in Qrow’s ear, “We’ll go when we’re ready… Right now, none of us are healthy enough for that trip.” Qrow nodded, “Agreed. Also...you might wanna talk to Tai soon…” Summer raised an eyebrow, before Qrow sighed, “I think he’s beginning to figure out your identity.” The Weapon Spirit sighed, “Alright… After Ruby and I talk with Yang and Ember.” The red-eyed man nodded, before giving her and Ruby small hugs.

“I’ll come by later to see how you’re all doing.” He smiled, before leaving with a wave. Ruby sipped her drink, waving back, “Where’s Yang and Ember anyway?” “Guest room.” Summer said, before she and Ruby left the room and headed to the guest bedroom. There, the two saw Yang in the bed with gauze wrapped around her right bicep, while Ember held her against her side. “Hey, little sister…” Yang said tiredly...and almost defeatedly…

Ruby hugged her half-sister tightly, letting out a shaking sigh, “I’m so glad you’re safe…” “You too…” The blonde whispered, wrapping her left arm around the younger teenager’s back. The blonde felt Summer cup her cheek and kiss her forehead, before rubbing her shoulder. Summer looked at Ember, who looked just as tired and defeated as Yang did. “Blake and Weiss left, right?” The taller blonde asked. Summer nodded, “Had no choice… They aren’t safe in Vale currently.”

“Blake texted me, saying that she and Gambol had just arrived back in Menagerie.” Yang said, her voice sounding a tad more energetic. Ruby nodded, “Good. Then they're safe.” The blonde gave a small smile, “She’ll try to keep in contact with us as often as she can.” The younger teenager nodded, “Anything on Weiss and her mom?” Ember shook her head, “They probably won’t be able to talk to us as often as they wish to.” “Asshole of a father.” Summer said as she saw the two teenagers raise eyebrows.

Nodding, Yang sighed, before asking, “What happens now?” “I don’t know…” Ruby said, not bothering to hide her honesty. They had lost Beacon, Penny, and the headmaster. Pyrrha was still alive, but neither of the four knew when she’d turn up again. The elder blonde sighed, “Why did this happen?” The tallest woman shook her head, “I don’t know… I really don’t…” “Was it planned?” Ruby asked. Summer tapped her chin, “Maybe. We have a lot of evidence to support that.”

“So...are we just going to stay here until everything blows over?” Ember asked. “We couldn’t save Beacon… How are we supposed to save Haven and the other Academies….?” The group went silent. It was a harsh reality, but it was true that they couldn’t save Beacon...and it was close to impossible to prevent the other schools from sharing the same fate. But Summer was silent for a different reason. She was shocked that this strong and stubborn woman… This courageous and determined blonde…

...Was forfeiting the battle before it began.

Yang sighed, “I can't stop you…” Ruby looked at her sister, waiting for the blonde to respond. “But I will do whatever I can to help and protect you… You know that.” The older teenager said. Ruby gave a small smile, tightly hugging her sister once more. “I know… And I’ll do whatever I can to do the same…” She said. After Ruby and Yang began talking, Summer brought Ember out of the room, only for the taller blonde to sit in the hallway. “Ember... “ The taller woman called out. “Ember, look at me please…”

The taller blonde just gave her a glance. The White Wolf sighed, “Ember, I won’t lie and pretend I understand what you’re going through.” Ember said nothing as Summer continued, “But I do understand what it’s like to be discouraged. To feel like all hope is lost.” “But you gotta keep fighting. Even when the chips are down.” The taller woman said. “Not all hope is lost. You still have reasons to keep fighting. To keep protecting...!”

After several moments, Ember finally sighed, “You promise me that you and Ruby will stay safe. Got it?” Summer nodded, “I promise.” After talking with Ember, she finally went to Taiyang outside. “You wanted to talk?” She asked the goateed man. He perked up from the garden, before nodding, “Yes. Sorry for not being direct about it. I...wasn’t sure if you were in a talkative mood.” The taller woman sighed with a smile. ‘Good to know that part of him hasn’t changed.’ She thought.

“It’s fine, Tai.” She smiled. “Now, what do you want to talk about?” The blonde man stood, before sighing, “I apologize if this is intrusive… But are you Summer?” The taller woman wanted to panic. She really did. Taiyang finding out who she was was the LAST thing she wanted right now.. Especially since she didn’t know what his reaction would be like. “I’ll be honest...it..kinda is intrusive…” Summer replied. Taiyang nodded, looking ashamed, “Sorry… It’s just...some things about you and her are...way too similar and identical.”

“Just give me some time, Tai…” She sighed. “That’s all I need. If I gain memories that prove that I am Summer, then you, Qrow, Raven, and the children will be the first ones to know.” “And if you’re not?” The blonde man asked. Summer shook her head, “Then I’m not.” She hated herself for that. She really did. She wanted to tell him the truth...all of it… But how could she when she was terrified by the possible angered reaction she would get from him and Ruby...?

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-Epilogue-

Winter settled in….and Ruby and Summer bid their goodbyes to Yang and Ember as they headed out, promising to keep in touch. The elder Rose regretted not being truthful to Taiyang, but now she wouldn’t be able to tell him the truth until she saw him next…

The two met up with the three remaining members of Team JNPR as the five departed for Haven, which is their only lead in Qrow’s fledgling investigation. Summer looked behind her, noticing Qrow transform into a corvid, before giving him a smile.

Yang cradled a napping Ember in her lap as she looked out the bedroom window, watching a raven fly away. Something in her hoped that that was her mother, Raven Branwen… One day, she’ll meet her and finally get to truly know her..

Weiss laid against Arktis’s shoulder, napping as the woman avoided making eye contact with her husband, Jacques on an airship heading to Atlas. She prayed that she and her children would be able to escape from him... But that dream was burning out quickly...

In Menagerie, Blake and Gambol entered a clothing shop, picking out new clothes as the younger faunus sent pictures to Yang, receiving a chuckle from her sister and hoping she was healing well. She then removed her bow.

As Ruby visited Summer’s grave, Summer spoke with Jaune, Ren, and Nora about Pyrrha. She explained that the redhead was now Jaune’s Weapon Spirit, but she had no idea when the teenager would show up again.

Meanwhile, in a barren land, Salem sighed. “I didn't think this first step to end mankind would go this smoothly.” She whispered to herself. She knew that Cinder was injured, but the new Fall Maiden was healing...and she could tell that Cinder was furious, possibly at losing and at Mercury and Emerald. “In time, she’ll get her chance at revenge.” The ancient woman chuckled. “Much like I will patiently wait for mine.”

“Send your precious Guardians in Ozma.” She said to the dark red sky. “Your Huntsmen, Huntresses, even your ‘simple souls’. I will crush them all...using my pawns like you or doing it myself.” Salem grinned, “I will kill them in front of you and make you burn like the pest you always were…” She then tapped her chin, smirking, “Or maybe a more...disturbing and degrading execution would be more fitting for you.”

“As well as for the Queen of Wolves, Summer Rose…” She said. “The legacy of Sombre and Lumière Rose will be extinguished.... Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

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

Afscheid, schoolhoofd means “Farewell, headmaster” in Dutch.

Summer now is able to transform, thanks to her Grimm powers and slaughters the rest of the White Fang in Beacon. Though there is a mystery behind it...

Pyrrha’s fate has been made clear. She survives, but it will be a while before she interacts with the group again. Vampier is able to transform as well, but abilities are currently unknown.

Blake doesn’t run, but instead has to head home for her well-being. Blake (along with Gambol) is still in touch with the group via her scroll. Weiss and Arktis are the same, but their communication is far more restricted, thanks to Jacques (aka Mr. Total Abusive Douche of A Father).

Salem knows of Summer’s resurrection and is itching to get payback.

So yeah. That’s it for Beacon’s Fragile Light! I really hope you all enjoyed this arc and please leave you thoughts and constructive criticism as always. Thank you! See you for when I post Arc 3, which takes place during Vol 4.

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seawatersavior · 5 years ago

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Roma - Enchanted Tailor

If you were to count Roma in the order of who joined the SV Mercenaries first, she should of had the #1 spot. However she reluctantly takes the #3 spot. Roma met Titus when she was still part of her original clan, she was a noble with only one task, produce heirs to establish diplomatic relations. Her husband was stern, cold and distant. She lived the majority of her life hidden away in a silver pagoda, deep in the castle grounds, far from where anyone could reach her. She was banned from leaving and could only step out of her prison at night, when the guards weren't watching her. They weren't there to keep anyone out, just to keep her in. At night she would sit in her window looking over the palace walls into the dark forest that lay beyond. She would do this until one day, a pair of eyes would stare back.

Roma was a little stunned, she clearly noticed a pair of eyes, but she only saw them for an instant. After waiting and watching, she did not see them again. She would continue to watch every night, a little excitement would do her good, and so she never let her husband know. Winter was fast approaching, and as the trees began to loose their leaves Roma became discouraged. With no foliage she couldn't pretend like that creature was still there, the white snow made it clear that nothing was there. She sighed and went to close her window when she caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of her eye. She snapped to look but there was nothing. But she knew she saw it! She wanted to find it!

Roma wanted this more than anything, and without thinking jumped out on the edge of the window, while the pagoda stood higher up, there was a few ledges that protruded outwards. She shimmied closer to the edge, gripping the hem of her night gown in one hand and the wall with the other. And then she fell.

The ice beneath her feet had given out, try as she might she couldn't revert to dragon form to spread her wings. Her tears lingered in the air as she fell, was this it? Is this how she would die? Before she had the chance to scream, she felt a pair of hands wrap around her and they crashed onto an open room. She lay stunned on the floor, the air had been knocked out of her. She looked over at the person lying next to her, he was a mess of blue hair, rather thin and seemingly just as winded from the fall. The sound of foot steps rang out as the guards were alerted to the noise. Upon hearing their clamoring the boy shot up, he was young and lithe in appearance, his face covered in hair but unable to hide the secrets his right eye contained. That eye was dark. Dark lines spread on his face, all spreading from that point. She couldn't discern much more as he ran and jumped out the window into the snowy storm.

The guards burst in and found her laying there, instead of asking if she was alright they picked her up and tossed her over their shoulder. "She finally tried to escape!" they laughed heartily as they threw her back into her room. "Don't try that again little lady, the lord instructed us to kill you if you ever make the attempt to escape, consider this your last warning." She lay there on the floor, at least the floor was padded with many rugs, so she didn't hit it too hard. But she was certain she saw her curtains shift. She pushed herself up, arms weak and cold but the warmth of her room was beginning to thaw her. She had curtains, tapestries, quilts and throws scattered all through out her room. She walked over to her pile of blankets and gave it a poke.

A quiet, but started "ow!" rang out when she met something in there. She yanked off the top blanket to uncover the young man from before withing. He was covering his eye in pain, whoops.

"Ah I'm sorry!" she exclaimed as she sat down next to him and patted his back. "Are you OK? You're barely wearing anything and it was terribly cold out there."

The boy retreated into the pile and smiled, "Well these blankets of yours are pretty soft, so I hope you don't mind the company. I am in fact freezing," he reached out a hand in greeting and said, "my name is Titus, I've always wanted to meet you after seeing you peek from your tower."

Roma smiled sheepishly, "So I wasn't insane, I knew I saw something peeking through the canopy." The pleasant thought energized her and she stood. "Lets dress you up I can't have you freezing on me." She walked over to her closet and pulled out a trunk hidden within a mountain of linens. "I may be a useless trophy wife, but he can't stop me from sewing!"

The boy shimmied over in what can only be called a blanket burrito. When she opened the trunk a little gasp escaped his lips. "Did you make these?" There was an assortment of apparel of varying sizes and shapes, for children, for adults, for something remarkably tiny. She pulled out some varying pieces and pulled him aside. "Lets get to dressing!"

Time passed like this, Titus would come and visit her pagoda, Roma would dress him up, and he would hide whenever anyone would come for Roma. But it would seem that his presence would not go unnoticed.

Roma's guards came today strangely more polite than usual, Titus had taken his usual hiding spot in a pile of plush sheets and pillows. He could see through a small gap between the pillows, but he could not be seen. As Roma stood by the door she quickly dropped to her knees in a bow. "My Lord, how kind of you to visit this humble wife." She lifted her head with a smile on her face, "How may I be of service to you today?"

A tall figure entered the room, his presence making the air suffocating. "Where is he."

Roma was too good at playing her part, "Forgive me my Lord, but whatever do you mean. The familiar you provided for me has long withered away.

"Bull Shit." With a snap of his fingers the guards began tearing apart the room. They had no mercy, and used their swords to pierce each pile of downy material into scraps.

Roma scampered to her feet and pulled at the mans robe, "Stop! Stop! Why are you ruining my room!?" She was roughly pushed back onto the ground before she could inquire further, but she didn't need to.

The Lord stomped on her hands and pulled at her hair, "Tell me where he is or who he is or I will break these sinful hands of yours! How dare you frolic with another while I provide you everything!" He pressed down hard as she screamed in agony. "There is no one! My Lord there is no one but my thoughts to spend time with me!" Tears rolled down her cheeks, but these seemed to enrage him further as he puller harder. "My Lord I assure you, please, do not destroy the only happiness I have."

"Then how dare you defy me! There was no trace of magical prowess on you before, but now here you are before me, exuding magical essence to anger me!" He removed his foot from her hand and let her head drop to the ground when he released her hair. He grasped her bruised hand squeezed, the pain was intense, but Roma could only focus on the cyan aura radiating from her hands. Magic.

She wasn't supposed to have any, in order to keep her obedient, her powers should've been sealed as a child. She had never been able to use them, so how could she even understand when her magic began to surface? She couldn't control it.

"ANSWER ME!" he yelled as his boot rushed towards her face, but it never made contact. Dark tendrils wrapped around his leg holding it back. They glanced back to find the source and found that none of the guards were moving. Their eyes were dark, a malicious mana poured from their orifices as they began to hit the ground.

The Lord quickly took his sword and sliced through the dark tendrils, and watched as they retreated into a pile of pillows.

"What sort of monster have you been rolling around with?" the man exclaimed, but he couldn’t speak for long as a blast of water magic shot at him the pile. Titus emerged then, his markings spreading more and more, reaching out as if trying to find something to hold onto.

Suddenly Roma remembered what he had told her once, he wasn't entirely dragon, and it took a lot of his energy to keep his malice sealed in. In the midst of the chaos she had almost forgotten she had been trying to help him! And now he was trying to save her with the very magic he tried so hard to contain. She scurried over to her storage chest and began to dig while trying to avoid being blasted with magic. She had hidden something in there, something she was certain would help him! Finally her fingers felt the cool smooth surface she was looking for and pulled it out. Her eyes went wide when she finally saw its condition, the sealing mask her mother had worn and handed down, it had broken in half! She wasn't certain it would still work, but she had to try! She held the mask in one hand and looked at her other, she needed to try and use her magic! Sure enough a few sparks danced on her fingertips and she glanced at the two fighting behind her. The Lord was a light dragon , his attacks blast of light mana there was no "residue" to his spells, but Titus's water spells left puddles everywhere, that was her chance! Magic can't be so hard right? She just needs to unleash a strong concentrated surge, that should be enough.

"Titus!" she yelled, "Catch!" She threw the broken mask at him while grabbing onto the Lord's arm. Sure enough Titus was quick to catch the mask, and Roma did the only thing she could think of, she released a surge of magic from her hands, the lightning quickly took its form and coursed through the water on the ground. Titus jumped back as far as he could, avoiding the potent wave that could surely take him out. The Lord however, was being tightly gripped by Roma, his eyes white as the current ran through his body, the pain numbing his body and mind. As Roma stopped her haphazard spell she let the Lord fall, she herself had suffered no repercussions from the spell, physically at least. Mentally she was drained, her mana having been almost entirely released from her body. She staggered over to the window and stepped over any puddle, just in case. "We uh, need to go." And once again, she fell.Barely conscious she felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around her as she passed out.

When Roma awoke she was in a humble bed in a cramped room. A soft warm light came in through the windows lighting up the area. She was alone it seemed, but a plate of fruit was on the nightstand and a jug of water was there as well. She tried to stand, but her nerves were extremely sensitive, so she stayed in bed eating fruit. Night came and the door opened, waking her up from her sleep. She knew that blue hair all too well and she sat up as Titus walked in and closed the door behind him. From here Titus explained that she had been out for a few weeks, and he had taken her to a distant territory where he hoped her husband would not find her. She had depleted so much magic her body had gone into a state of shock it seems. In those weeks Titus had discovered that the mask did indeed work for him, but it had taken a lot of damage when she fell and he dropped it trying to catch her. But he came with good news! He was putting a small clan together in the hopes of trying to accomplish his goals of being a strong leader. While his current line up was currently seeking a good base of operations, he had returned to her every night to feed her his own mana. Due to her sleeping in she was now technically the third to agree to travel with him. What a shame, after all she would have been #1 had she been awake!

#c: roma #my lore #SV Mercenaries #flight rising #fr lore #i cant write and thats someone elses problem

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sunshineandfangs · 5 years ago

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Klarosummer - Baseball || Intuitivnaya Prozorlivost

@klarosummerbingo

Caroline’s money had been running low recently which was why she found herself at Fenway Park on a Saturday. Watching the Baltimore Orioles vs the Boston Red Sox in a baseball game was certainly not her idea of a good time, but betting promised funds. Plus, all those people? All those fans with their explosive energy? Sometimes bills got lost, caught by the wind, dropped in a crowd, people could just be unlucky.

She placed her bet, fluttered her lashes at the more confused witnesses, claimed she was her husband’s good luck charm and he was a rather superstitious man.

The Red Sox would win, she declared.

Nine innings later, and the Red Sox did indeed win and she went off to collect her money. Today had been a good haul and she had a slight bounce to her step when she finally made it out of the packed stadium.

Her good mood instantly plummeted, steps slowing some as she noted two men approaching her from her peripheral vision. She covertly peered at them from under her hair, mind rapidly analyzing their appearances.

Both had brown hair and were on the taller side at about six feet. One seemed a bit more severe, hair slicked back, darker colors and a leather jacket. The other held himself more affably and dressed more elegantly in a dove gray sports jacket and a light lilac button down.

She didn’t recognize either of them, which didn’t necessarily mean anything, but she had a sharp eye for the people who might hunt her. Ducking toward a more isolated corner of the parking garage, though still within hearing range should she need it, she felt them both follow her.

Without warning, Caroline whirled to face them, not even pretending that she hadn’t notice them.

Raising one perfectly plucked eyebrow she drawled, “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

The one on the left, the more severe looking one, offered a slight nod of acknowledgement, “I’m Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Charles Xavier,” said the other, a slight British accent in his voice.

“Good for you,” she replied, a bit annoyed, about to repeat her question when the British one - Xavier - spoke into her mind.

Please, forgive our abruptness. I’m sure we must have startled you.

Caroline’s eyes instantly narrowed, letting a tendril of her power seep into her mind.

Xavier let out a slight grunt, raising a hand to his temple. Though he looked to be grimacing a bit, he seemed strangely delighted rather than upset. “Marvelous! How are you doing that?”

“You think I’m just going to tell you?” She bit out, incredulous, shifting her weight when she noticed Lehnsherr’s stance change.

“What is she doing, Charles?” He asked, his hand twitching toward her.

She crouched slightly in preparation as Xavier replied.

“It’s like her mind suddenly got distorted, like a bad radio signal. Probably why I couldn’t sense her with Cerebro.”

From behind her Caroline felt the air stir as something rapidly approached, and she nearly attacked before she recognized the presence.

A familiar voice, one with a much more prominent British accent, sounded from her left.

“Two on one, gents, that’s hardly sporting, now is it? And against a lady at that.”

Caroline would never admit it, but she was somewhat glad to hear Klaus’ voice, knowing no matter their...colorful history, he would side with her over these strangers.

She angled her body a bit towards him as he came prowling out of the shadows, eyes carrying a glint of feral gold.

Lehnsherr looked even more wary and a bit annoyed.

“Charles are your powers broken today?!”

Xavier spluttered, looking a tad offended. “No! Both their minds are particularly unusual though. His seems,” he trailed off, looking a bit confused, before offering, “like an animal’s?”

Klaus smiled, teeth and dimples on display, hungry and hunting. “A wolf, if you want to be precise.”

Caroline refrained from rolling her eyes, exasperated by his dramatics. Sure it wasn’t a very useful bit of information, but must he?!

Irritatingly good at knowing the direction of her thoughts, Klaus shot a quick glance in her direction, a trace of mirth in his eyes, before he became grim and guarded once more.

“Well?” He asked again, his mien a mix of his typical faux-politeness and menace.

Xavier, clearly the less confrontational of the two (a piece of information Caroline filed away under potential weaknesses to exploit), held up his hands in a pacifying gesture.

“Wait, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. We don’t mean you any harm, either of you,” he said glancing between her and Klaus. “We’ve been searching for people like you, like us,” he emphasized, nodding to his partner. “But if you’re not interested we’ll leave, I promise. No one will bother you.”

Caroline suppressed a disbelieving scoff as Klaus mocked him.

“Isn’t that cute, sweetheart? He thinks they simply get to leave.”

That seemed to set Lehnsherr off as he threw his arm out, ignoring Xavier’s cries to wait, and metal beams shattered concrete, reaching out with a groan as they attempted to wrap around them.

General telekinetic or metal specific? Caroline wondered, even as she moved to dodge.

She leapt, knowing exactly where to land in order to jump on and over the beams. Klaus was flashier, flexing his suddenly claw-like nails and tearing through the metal like tissue paper.

Their attacker cursed, while Xavier got out of the way, still looking concerned. Another hand flex sent the metal pieces shooting back at them, and Caroline jumped in front of Klaus.

Probably just metal, she concluded, as she tugged at her power, every projectile inexplicably missing.

“That wasn’t necessary,” Klaus growled from behind her, his gruffness doing nothing to hide his concern for her. She smothered a smirk, cute, but hardly called for.

Though it surprised her not at all when he whipped out from behind her, form a blur as he slammed Lehnsherr against the concrete wall.

Xavier, hand once more at his temple, seemed to squint at Klaus. At first nothing happened, and then Klaus snarled, his body convulsing as his eyes flashed from gold to blue and back.

Caroline cursed her stupidity. How could she not consider mind manipulation, when he demonstrated clear and powerful telepathy?!

She glared, sprinting toward her new least favorite person, plucking more delicately at her power as she worked to undermine his control.

Klaus flexed his spasming hand, still pinning Lehnsherr to the wall. “I will take his bloody head off if you don’t stop!”

Meanwhile, Caroline barreled into Xavier, tackling him to the floor and expertly pinning him down.

She leaned down to snarl her own threat.

“I’ll take your head if you don’t release him.”

Klaus’ snarls quieted. “That’s more like it,” he drawled. Only to let out a pained grunt a moment later.

Caroline looked over to see metal had slammed into Klaus, though his enhanced strength prevented it from throwing him back as was no doubt the intent.

She watched as an angry, panic entered Lehnsherr’s expression more metal bombarding Klaus as he reached his own arms up to try to pry off the hand strangling him.

And then she had to refocus on her own opponent, a sharp migraine suddenly assaulting her as he turned his power on her. She bit down on her lip, drawing blood as she fought through the pain, struggling to counter his unexpected assault.

Suddenly, it stopped.

Caroline panted out a breath, sneered at Xavier’s apologetic expression before glancing toward Klaus, realizing something must have halted their fight.

She sucked in a breath as she saw what had happened. Lehnsherr’s sleeve had gotten torn in their scuffle, black numbers stark against the pale skin of his forearm. An empathetic pang twisted in her gut as she watched Klaus slowly shift his gaze from the numbers to Lehnsherr’s eyes.

He didn’t release his grip, but he did loosen it.

“We’ll hear you out.”

---

Author’s Note: Title means “Serendipity” in Russian. I made Klaus a victim of Russia’s actions during WWII rather than Germany’s like Erik. Additionally, as this was a fusion/cross-over with X-Men: First Class which takes place during the Cold War, I thought choosing Russian was appropriate when trying to find a thematically relevant non-English language. (I’m glad there’s only two more for me though because the language picks have been one of the harder things to do. Which is my own fault lol).

FYI, Charles and Erik more or less stumble into Klaroline after leaving Logan at the bar. Caroline’s power is extreme probability manipulation and knowledge. While Klaus has enhanced physical prowess drawing from wolf-like traits along with blood manipulation abilities.

#Klaroline #KlarosummerBingo #Klaroline Fanfiction #Klaroline Drabbles #Klaroline Edits #Klaroline Photosets #Klaroline Aesthetics #My Writing #My Edits

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imperiousphasmid · 5 years ago

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Hey!! If you're still doing the song asks thing, how about one or all of: Work Song, Almost, Movement, In the Woods Somewhere, and Sunlight. (Hope you're having a swell day!)

I am still doing it for sure!! Thank you so much for sending these; they’re so sweet and I had such a good time writing answers to them. I’ve had a pretty good day so far and I hope you have too, you lovely person. ♡

(I answered Work Song below and put the rest of the answers under the cut so it didn’t get too long for those of you who don’t want to read my walls of text.)

[Hozier Song Ask Meme]

Work Song- Is there anyone you’d sing a love song to, romantic or platonic?

Oh absolutely, yes. My capabilities with singing are at least decent. I spent a number of years in choir. I still sometimes think of returning to it. I think music is one of the most powerful forms of expression available to us as humans and it has the ability to portray emotion in a different way than the spoken word. (Which isn’t to say one is more or less valuable than the other. Just different.)

I can be a romantic when it comes to some things, and there is something undeniably sweet and pure about the act of a serenade. To open up your voice and be heard is to make yourself vulnerable. In singing, especially.

I am also an avid car-singer and am certainly not above belting out love songs to - and sometimes with - friends at any given opportunity. After all, I always want my friends to know how important they are to me. There’s something freeing about borrowing the words of someone else to loudly proclaim your feelings. I have also dabbled in writing songs before as well. Picking notes and crafting harmonies to set a mood. My lyrical prowess does leave something to be desired, however.

Almost- Do you ever dance alone to music?

Dancing is one of the most cathartic things in the world. Back when I was working, when I was the only one in the building, I used to put in earbuds and turn the volume on my phone to max and dance from room to room as I worked. I would move and spin and jump around until I was flushed and sweating and then dance some more. I loved every second of it. (I have a particular weakness for dancing to Florence and the Machine.)

I don’t do it as much at home, which is a shame, but I am prone to putting on music while I cook or bake and swaying across the kitchen floor, slipping around in socks. Even when I’m sitting down and writing, I have a tendency to wiggle to myself if a catchy song comes on, swinging my head and tapping my foot against blank air. (I’m doing it right now! As I listen to Hozier, of course.)

Music has a way of moving us both emotionally and physically that is inherent to some degree to every human. Not just humans, either! It’s been proven that various animals enjoy music and even have their own unique preferences. It’s a beautiful thing. I firmly believe that anyone can dance and, more importantly, no matter your skill level, it feels wonderful.

Movement- Do you perform in any way?

Back in my school days (before college) I used to be involved in about every artistic venture available. I can technically play four instruments, although I won’t claim mastery over any of them. The closest would be piano, which I started learning around 17 years ago. I was in choir up through my junior year, and I spent four years in show choir as well. (Singing and dancing… at the same time.) I also participated in the school theatre productions, as well as attending theatre camps in the summers. At one point, it was my dream to pursue a career in acting. The only actual on-stage role I got in our high school productions, however, was as an extra in Grease during the spring musical my junior year. It was incredible fun, but also probably pretty accurate to the C- I received in acting class.

Nowadays, I don’t do as much performing as I used to. Something about venturing out into the bigger world and leaving structure behind, I think. Now if I want to perform, I have to seek out opportunities to do so and there are so many options. I’m the tiniest bit more self-assured than I was back then, so I still hope to return to some things one day - acting especially. There’s something cathartic in being stripped of your own motivations, your own fears, and putting on a brand new face. I learned once that acting is not just about performing a role, but making it reality. In what other circumstance do you have the chance to truly become something else entirely? Something brand new and yet wholly formed.

In the Woods Somewhere- Have you ever had a supernatural experience?

Hmm. Nothing specifically provable, necessarily. I’m willing to give a lot of leeway when it comes to the unexplained, however. While I don’t put much stock in the typical ghost story, I do believe that some things tend to linger. The woods have power. Moonlight illuminates things previously unseen. Certain places and objects are unmistakably charged with a kind of energy. One that tends to be felt at its most restless.

I used to work at a movie theater and everyone who worked with me was convinced it was haunted. On one memorable occasion, a couple of coworkers came in to open for the morning and classical music was playing from one of the projectors like a radio. (Projector Two. I still don’t know how. It shouldn’t have been capable of that.) Going upstairs at night, sometimes you could feel the prickling of hairs on the back of your neck as if you were being watched from the flickering shadows in the darkest corners. One side of the room always seemed more unnerving than the other. (The side with Theater Two. It always seemed to be Theater Two.) Once or twice when I was alone, I could swear I heard the whispersoft sound of a voice over the mechanical hum of wires and towers, speaking just one word, maybe two. I could never tell what it was it had said. Or tried to say.

But I was never too scared. I greeted the empty halls of the building in the mornings and bid them goodnight when I wandered out the door long past midnight. I offered them kindness, and in return they always felt like a second home.

Sunlight- Do you prefer sunny or rainy weather, or somewhere in between?

Rain. I live for rainy days and nights. The weight of the sky before it lets loose, the fingertaps of thick raindrops against windows and rooftops. Living in the midwest, I’m no stranger to the roar of a real storm. But I am the kind of person who will keep the temperature inside steadily at 64 and bundle up in layers upon layers - sweaters, and blankets, and soft things. I’ll bake cookies to eat while they’re still warm and gooey, fresh out of the oven. While I wait for them to cool, I’ll check the lanterns. Fill them up with oil if it’s needed. Then I’ll huddle up in a corner of the couch in front of the wide picture window and turn the lights off to watch the skies flash above and count the seconds. The matches stay a short reach away. Just in case.

In the instances when thunder doesn’t rattle the windowpanes and the clouds don’t drip with inky lifewater, I am also the kind of person who waits for the summer rains to pour in sheets before running out with bare feet to join it in pattering against the grass. I love everything about the rain. I love the smell of it on the air when you can feel it coming (Won’t be long, now.) and the way small rivulets splash at your ankles as you walk through them after it stops. I go out of my way to wander through puddles just so I can watch them ripple out and then change into fresh, clean, fuzzy socks when I get home.

#anonymous #heiress answers #thank you #i love these questions #and they were so much fun to answer

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korkrunchcereal · 6 years ago

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Abandoned

Not for the first time, Aurelian wondered if he was in fact cursed. It was the only logical explanation for the situations he kept finding himself in, as he stood on the precipice of a great, molten ravine that led down to bubbling lava. Perhaps the universe had heard his hatred of Volcanius, for once more the elf had found himself on that wretched demon world. It was from here the demons had been reinforcing the Eastern Plaguelands, anchoring itself to Azeroth. Aurelian was among those sent to break the anchor.

Aurelian was also alone now.

Aurelian and his comrades had succeeded in slaying the lord of Volcanius amongst a host of other demons as well as disabling the link between Volcanius and Azeroth. Through fire, rock and brimstone they had fought and bled to secure a hard-won victory…until a newcomer arrived. Emerging over the remains of Volcanius’ slain warlord, a new host had arrived to scatter the Sunguard. At their head strode a gargantuan demon that bristled with raw power, who smote the Sunguard and forced them into a panicked retreat. The survivors had escaped…all except Aurelian.

He had fallen behind securing a retreat for several others, and now found his path blocked. A sole bridge led to safety, yet the demon lord that had forced the Sunguard to retreat now stood in his way. Aurelian could barely look at the demon, his eyes watering from both the smoke and ash from the molten fire beneath his feet, and the demon’s very presence. There was malignant power in this creature; a dark radiance that sapped Aurelian’s will the more he stared.

For the first time in quite a while, Aurelian was not certain he would live. The air itself crackled around the demon, as if reality itself screamed at its presence. Behind Aurelian, he could hear the howls and war cries of more demons approaching; the remnants of Volcanius and the host of this new warlord. He was alone on this foul world.

No, not alone. Abandoned. Aurelian’s foolhardy heroism had left him stranded, and no one would come to save him. Light it was hot; he could feel the sweat on his brow beneath his helm, though whether that was from the heat or fear he was not certain. His body screamed at him to run, but where could he run too? He could face the demonic army behind him, circle all the way around and find himself blocked again. Suicidal.

He could also face the demon lord, but even he doubted his capabilities against the monstrous tyrant. As he stood on the edge of the molten ravine, he looked across to the other side. Perhaps he could make the leap? No; it was at least ten feet across. He would need a running start without being weighed down by his armor to make it at least half of that.

Panic began to grip him. He was trapped, on a barren wasteland of a world he hated. He wouldn’t even die on Azeroth, and the thought infuriated him. He wouldn’t die in his bed, old of age and surrounded by his wealth and possessions. There would be no family to mourn him, no wife to cradle his head or children to hold his hand. He wouldn’t even die in battle, saving Azeroth and his home like a hero of yore. No; he would die abandoned and forgotten on a miserable rock, with no stories to his name or legacy left behind.

He glanced between the demon lord that drew closer, and the cliffside. Fear kept him in place. It was a strange sensation; he couldn’t recall a time he had ever been so frightened. Part of him wondered if this was an instinctual reaction, or a trick by the demon. Its stare…by the light its stare sent a chill down Aurelian’s spine. What could he do? What cou-

A shrill sound pierced his ears, breaking his contact with the demon as he turned to investigate the noise. So too did the demon, both watching as a shapeless mass of void rushed forward to slam into the demon. Aurelian’s confusion was greater than his fear as he watched the thing ram itself in a suicidal charge against the demon.

“Jump!” The void creature’s voice was both feminine and familiar, Aurelian blinking in surprise as he recognized it. It was Sare’wen. He had thought he saw such a creature by her side earlier, the priestess having accompanied Aurelian in the journey. The two had grown friendly with one another, Aurelian finding they worked surprisingly well together. Her voice broke through whatever had gripped his heart in fear. He watched as the demon annihilated the void beast with a singular blow, tendrils of smoke and oil being dispersed into the air.

“Does your heart know fear?” Aurelian had turned to consider jumping the cliff once more, pausing as the demon’s voice filled his mind. Every word seemed to overpower his senses, booming like thunder yet soft as a whisper. It played tricks on him, rooting the elf in place. Slowly, Aurelian turned to watch the demon approach. Each step sent cracks into the stone, yet the demon did not lumber forward. No, there was grace in each step.

“Your friends have abandoned you. Leaving you to die.” The demon spread its arms out, stopping at the end of the bridge. He was a mere ten yards from Aurelian now, who had to crane his neck up to meet the demon’s gaze. “Even the others were sacrificed, but you remain." Aurelian nearly dropped his sword as he winced from the voice, realizing he still held it in a vice grip. The demon’s eyes wandered to the sword, spotting the fel blood dripping from its tip.

“What do you find of power?” The demon continued. “Does it call to you? Why die for those who are unwilling to die for you?” It extended out a hand to Aurelian now, a ball of raw energy hovering in its hand. “Power is overwhelming. It is beautiful. It is pure." Its voice had changed, to one Aurelian recognized. It was his betrothed now speaking to him, repeating the words as visions pierced his mind.

Overwhelming.

Beautiful.

Pure.

He saw himself not for what he was but what he could be. He was horrifying and beautiful; a lord of legions unending. A crown of felfire rested upon his brow, his form twisted and corrupted, retaining his physical prowess and yet appearing as so much more. Worlds burned before his eyes; a million, million lives snuffed out at his whim.

He was a dark lord of terror. Here was the power he so sought. His very name brought fear and recognition. He would be remembered for all time among the very cosmos of reality. Dying cultures brought to ash would remember him as their slayer. Worlds exalted by the Legion would hail him as a redeemer and savior. Time immortal would know his name.

“You can be a god, Aurelian.” His betrothed’s voice filled his fears, seductive and sweet. Soft hands fell over his body, causing him to realize he was naked. “The very universe will bend to your every desire and will. Name it, and worlds will burn to see it done.” He felt her voice against his ear, breath hot. He blinked, the world changing around him.

He stood now in a meadow, a soft breeze falling over his skin. He felt cracks in his skin, raw fel emanating from his form. His eyes that burned with fire looked down to his hands, gnarled and clawed. Fingers neither gnarled or clawed closed around his own, his eyes looking up to gaze at his betrothed. Light she was beautiful.

“Anything you desire, my beloved, is yours. Accept this gift; this great and glorious gift. Become more than you can be Aurelian. Become a god.”

Kneel.

Aurelian blinked, the visions fading from his mind as he found himself once more upon Volcanius. The heat of the lava below him was not like that of his vision; the felfire there had been soothing, but this was harsh and unforgiving. As a mortal, he could do so little before dying. The demon still stood before Aurelian, simply staring to hear the elf’s answer. How long had Aurelian been standing there? He did not hear the howls of the other demons, wondering if this creature had bide them stay their hand.

They wanted Aurelian. They wanted him to aid the Legion, to turn against everything he knew and protected. He did not care for the lives of the others; they had shown they did not care for his life either. What future could he find amidst being a mortal, when godhood was at his fingertips? A wisp of something shadowy fell over his glazed eyes, and like lifting a veil he realized what he was thinking.

They asked him to betray everyone he cared for. His siblings, his friends, his betrothed? They demanded he abandon his principles. He was not a servant, nor would he ever be. He was the lord of House Indaris. He could be a god of the Legion, but even godhood came with shackles. There would always be the Dark Titan in his path of ascension…and there would never be Calithielwen in this future. Slowly, Aurelian lifted his sword towards the demon.

“You know, that’s a damn good question and when I get out of here I’m going to ask all of them why they abandoned me.” A golden aura formed around the elf as he continued to speak his defiance. “Frankly, I never liked the Legion’s fashion choice. Chains and felsteel? The orcs never wore it well, and neither do you.” His tone dripped with sarcasm to mask his nervousness. He had made his choice. For answer, the demon simply sighed.

“A pity. Now then. Let us see if we can char that pretty armor of yours.” The demon was swift, leaping upon Aurelian with all the fury of its kind. Aurelian brought a hand up, a wall of light building around his form. The demon’s fist smashed into the shield, shattering it as it slammed into Aurelian’s body. He was knocked back, armor battered and body reeling from the blow. His magic had barely saved his life, and he knew it wouldn’t again. His defiance with the light had-

The light. Aurelian grinned as he pulled himself up, wincing as he felt several ribs either cracked or broken from the force of the blow. He realized how he could escape now, cursing himself for not thinking it earlier. His hand fell to his side, the other weakly holding his sword. The demon seemed unamused that Aurelian still lived, brow furrowed.

“That’s the best you can do?” For answer the demon charged forward again, fel magic behind the blow in case Aurelian tried to shield himself again. He didn’t, weaving himself around the blow. Taking the opportunity, he ran past the demon. He couldn’t take to the bridge, knowing the demon would simply leap across to block his path again. Instead he made for the ravine, cursing aloud as he ran for it. Behind him he could hear the demon charging after him.

With a cry he lept off the ravine towards the other side. He knew he couldn’t make it…at least not by physical means. He waved his hand, feeling the light pull him forward. Brief, avian wings formed from raw magic flapped brilliantly behind him, creating a flash of blinding light as it pushed him forward. With a crashing sound he slammed into the other side, rolling across the rocks. He shot up, watching the demon move to jump across.

“Remember me demon, for we shall meet again!” With a laugh born of relief Aurelian ran through the portal to safety. A maddening display of colors filled his vision, before he stood not on molten rock and ash, but on iron. Voices called out as he wearily glanced to the figures before him, grinning as he recognized his allies. Light, he hated Volcanius.

“So you escaped from Baal himself?” Balasar had ordered more wine for the two, simply assuming Veridan did not want any. For answer Aurelian nodded, smugly grinning.

“Of course. I didn’t know who he was at the time, but I was able to fight him back long enough to make my escape.”

“You went toe to toe with a high-ranking demon lord, a lieutenant of Kil’jaeden himself and lived?” Balasar’s tone was filled with doubt.

“Do I hear doubt in your tone?”

“You do not strike me as that impressive, Aurelian.”

“You wound me, Balasar. It is true, however. It’s why he sent his elite guard after me, though that’s much later in our story.”

“Yes, it is. Whilst you were away in the Plaguelands and this ‘Volcanius’, did you have any idea of what was going on in the Gilded Lands?”

“No, not at all.”

#World of Warcraft #Aurelian Indaris #Skullcrusha writing #Tales of the Gilded Lands

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dumbledearme · 6 years ago

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chapter forty-two—death boy

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act V — Walking On Water

Part V — Through the mist, through the woods, through the darkness and the shadows. It's a nightmare but it's one exciting ride.

Andy sat on the cold stone floor wondering if Hades's dungeon was airtight. She felt completely miserable. She was going to die there. Alone. Andy closed her eyes and thought of Typhon and how it was her fault he was looming free. She also thought of Anthony, trying to focus on her good memories, but the only thing she could think of was the fact she hadn't even said goodbye.

Then a voice hissed, "Jackson!"

She lunged blindly and pinned Nico to the floor of the cell with the edge of her sword at his throat.

"Rescue..." he choked.

"I wouldn't need rescuing if you weren't a liar! Why should I trust you?"

"No... choice?" he gagged.

Andy sighed and let him go. Nico got to his feet, eyeing her sword warily. His own blade was sheathed. "We have to get out of here," he said.

"Why?" she sneered. "Your daddy wants another word with me?"

Nico winced like she'd just slapped him. Andy immediately felt bad. "I swear on the River Styx, I didn't know what he was planning. He tricked me. He promised-" Nico held up his hands. "Look... right now, we need to leave. I put the guards to sleep, but it won't last."

In part, Andy still wanted to strangle him, but unfortunately the boy was right. He pointed at the wall. A whole section vanished, revealing a corridor.

"Come on," Nico led the way. Every time they came to a skeleton guard, Nico just pointed at it, and its glowing eyes dimmed. But the more he did it, the more tiredhe got. They walked through a maze of corridors filled with guards. By the time they reached a kitchen staffed by skeletal cooks and servants, Andy was practically carrying Death Boy. He managed to put all the dead to sleep but nearly passed out himself.

Andy dragged him out of the servants's entrance and into the Fields of Asphodel. Then she heard the sound of bronze gongs high in the castle.

"Alarms," Nico murmured.

"What do we do?"

He frowned like he was trying to remember. "How about... run?"

Andy closed her eyes and concentrated. With a poof, Mrs O'Leary appeared before them. "Good girl," she yelled. "Can you give us a ride to the Styx?" Without waiting for an answer, Andy pushed Nico onto the dog's back. She climbed behind him, and Mrs O'Leary race toward the gates. Nico leaned back resting his head on Andy's shoulder and she fought the urge to push the traitor off Mrs O'Leary. His forehead was sweaty and he seemed about to fall asleep.

Mrs O'Leary leaped, sending guards sprawling and causing more alarms to blare. She didn't stop until they were far upriver and the fires of Erebos had disappeared in the murk.

Nico slid off Mrs O'Leary's back and collapsed on the floor. "Your powers drain you too much," Andy noted.

He nodded sleepily. "With great power... comes great need to take a nap."

Andy caught him before he could pass out again. "Whoa, Death Boy. I need you to walk me through this."

Nico took a deep breath and struggled to his feet. Andy looked at the black water. "Should I... jump in?"

"You have to prepare yourself," Nico said, "or the river will destroy you. It'll burn away your body and soul."

"Oh, joy."

"Don't worry. I have complete faith in you," he said softly and his tone was so honest Andy was left speechless. "There is only one way to stay anchored to your mortal life. You have to—" his eyes widened.

Andy looked behind her and found herself facing a Greek warrior. He was handsome and blond, like Anthony, but he had a brutal look in his pale green eyes. For a moment she didn't know who he was, then the bloody arrow stuck out of his left calf, just above the ankle, kind of gave him away.

"Achilles."

"I warned the other one not to follow my path," the warrior said. "Now I warn you."

"You spoke with Luke?"

"Do not do this," Achilles said. "It will make you powerful, sim. But it will also make you weak. Your prowess in combat will be beyond any mortal's, but your weaknesses, your failings will increase as well."

"You mean I'll have a bad heel?" Andy asked. "Couldn't I just... wear something besides sandals? No offense. I mean, your sandals are beautiful, just not very practical..."

"The heel is only my physical weakness, demigod. My mother, Thetis, held me there when she dipped me in the Styx. What really killed me was my own arrogance. Beware. Turn back!" And he meant it, she saw. Andy could hear the regret and the bitterness in his voice.

But Luke hadn't turned back. No one could defeat him because he'd actually done this.

"I have to," she said.

Achilles studied her. "Let the gods witness I tried. Heroin, if you must do this, concentrate on your mortal point. Imagine one spot of your body that will remain vulnerable. This is the point where your soul will anchor your body to the world. It will be your greatest weakness, but also your only hope. No man may be completely invulnerable. Nor woman," he added. "Lose sight of what keeps you mortal, and the Styx will burn you to ashes. You will cease to exist. Prepare yourself, girl. Whether you survive this or not, you have sealed your doom!" And with this, he disappeared.

"I think he's nice," Andy said.

Nico grabbed her wrist. "Perhaps he's right."

"This was your idea!"

"I know. But... I don't want anything to happen to-" his voice faltered.

Andy didn't listen to him. She was ready. She thought of Anthony was last time and then concentrated on the small of her back – a tiny point just opposite her navel, this little spot where her boyfriend would put his hand to pull her to him. She pictured a string, a bungee cord connecting her to the world from the small of her back.

Then she stepped into the river.

She submerged completely and the pain was unbelievable. Andy wanted to scream but, for the first time in the water, she couldn't even breathe. Panic filled her stomach. Every nerve in her body burned. The pain was so strong she was losing consciousness; she couldn't focus on the cord. Her soul was being ripped from her body.

But then she heard his voice, very faintly in her head. "Hold on, Seaweed Brain."

Andy couldn't remember her own name, but she knew exactly who he was. Wonder Boy. The cord strengthened. Memories came to her. Memories of him. Memories of Sally Jackson dancing in the kitchen. Grover playing his pipes. Tyson hugging a hippocampus.

She wasn't dissolving anymore. Her name was Andy Jackson. She was the child of land and sea. She was in love with the son of Athena. She would see him again. She would find him. She would always find him.

Suddenly, Andy burst out of the river. She collapsed on the sand gasping for air, and Nico knelt beside her. "Are you okay?" he stammered. He looked pretty shaken. "Your skin... Oh, gods. You're hurt."

Andy's arms were bright red. She felt like every inch of her body had been broiled over a slow flame. Andy looked around for Anthony, even though she knew he wasn't there. "I'm fine," she panted. The color of her skin turned back to normal. The pain subsided.

"Do you feel... stronger?" Nico asked.

Before Andy could answer, a voice boomed, "THERE!"

An army of the dead marched toward them. Behind them came Hades riding a black chariot pulled by nightmare horses. "You will not escape me this time, Andy Jackson!" he bellowed. "Destroy her!"

"Don't!" Nico shouted, but it was too late. The dead advanced.

Andy got up. She was done with Hades's bullshit. She let out a yell and the River Styx exploded. A black tidal wave smashed into the ghosts and they began to dissolve. Andy uncapped Riptide and charged at Hades. The god raised his staff and a bold of dark energy shot toward her, but she deflected it with her blade. Then she slammed into him and they both tumbled out of the chariot. Next thing she knew, her knee was planted on Hades's chest. She was holding the collar of his robes in one fist, and the tip of her sword was poised right over his face.

Hades swallowed. "Jackson... how did you..."

"You've reached the limit of my otherwise questionable patience," she told him. "So as soon as I let go, you will get out of my face. Got it?" Hades nodded. Andy let go of his robes and Hades disappeared in a black cloud. Andy glanced back at Nico. "Close your mouth, Death Boy."

"You just... with a sword... you just..."

"I think the river thing worked."

"You think?" he chuckled.

"Go back to your father," she said. "Tell him he owes me for letting him go. Find out what's going to happen to Mount Olympus and convince him to help."

Nico stared at her. "I... I can't. He'll hate me now. I mean... even more."

"You must have courage," Andy told him. "Besides, you owe me, too."

His ears turned red. "I told you I was sorry. Please... let me come with you. I want to fight."

"I need you to do this for me," she insisted. "You're the only one who can convince Hades to help."

"But-"

"Nico." Andy walked up to him. "I have complete faith in you."

A roller coaster of emotions crossed his face and Andy couldn't discern any of them. In the end, he just sighed. "Fine. I'll do my best. What are you going to do?"

"Oh," she gave him a wicked grin. "Imma get this war started."

On her way, Andy stopped at a phone booth and left a message to Anthony. He was furious and worried out of his mind, but mostly furious. Still, Andy hoped he'd do what she asked.

It was late afternoon when she reached the Empire State Building. Soon after, three white vans pulled up to the curb. The doors slid open and a bunch of campers climbed out followed by Chiron in his wheelchair. Only the Ares cabin wasn't there.

Anthony shook Andy by the shoulders when he managed to get a hold of her. "Where the hell were you? We were so worried! You can't just vanish like that! What were you thinking? Andy... Why are you looking at me like that?"

Andy didn't answer, 'cause they were being watched by everyone else, but she was so damn happy to see him. She turned to the rest of the group. "Thank you all for coming. Chiron, you go first."

Chiron shook his head. "I came only to wish you good luck, Andy."

"But... you're our leader!"

The centaur smiled. "You summoned the campers, Andy. You're the leader."

Andy wanted to protest, but everybody was looking at her expectantly, even Anthony. She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm. "Alright. Like I said in my message, something bad is going to happen tonight. We need an audience with Zeus to convince him to defend the city. And we just won't take no for an answer."

No one was guarding the way to the throne room, but Hestia stood by the hearth. "Hello again, Andy Jackson," she said. "You and your friends are welcome."

"Thank you, my lady," Andy bowed and her friends did the same.

"I see you went through with your plan," the goddess said. "You bear the curse of Achilles." The other campers started muttering among themselves. "You must be careful," Hestia warned. "You gained much in your journey. But you are still blind to the most important truth. Perhaps a glimpse is in order."

Andy stared into the goddess's eyes. There, she saw Thalia and Luke crouched in the shadows. Luke carried a bronze knife; Thalia had her spear and Aegis.

"Are you sure?" Thalia was asking him.

He nodded. A curtain of corrugated tin quivered as if something were behind it. Luke ripped away the tin, and another boy flew at him with a hammer. "Whoa," Luke said. The boy had tangled blond hair and couldn't be more than nine years old, but Andy recognized him immediately. Luke grabbed his wrist and the hammer skittered across the cement. The boy breathed heavily.

"We're not going to hurt you," Thalia assured him. "I'm Thalia. This is Luke."

The boy hesitated. He studied Thalia and Luke with quick gray eyes. "Tony," he finally said.

Thalia smiled. "Are you alone, Tony?"

"I ran away," he said.

"Well, you can come with us then," Luke invited him. He turned his knife and offered Anthony the handle. Anthony gripped the hilt carefully. "Knives are for the bravest and quickest fighters, my brother," Luke told him. "They don't have the reach or power of a sword, but they're easy to conceal and they can find weak spots in your enemy's armor. It takes a clever warrior to use a knife. I have a feeling it's perfect for you."

Anthony stared at Luke the way he sometimes did at Andy.

"We need to go, boys," Thalia said. "We have a safe house near. We'll get you some clothes and food, Tony."

"You're not... You're not gonna take me back home?"

Luke put his hand on Anthony's shoulder. "You're part of our family now. Home is wherever we are. We keep each other safe. And we won't fail each other like our families did us."

The vision shut off. Andy's knees buckled, but Anthony, the real Anthony, held her. "What is it? What's the matter?"

Andy glanced back at Hestia, but the goddess's face was expressionless. Andy could feel everyone's eyes on her. She straightened up.

That's when Hermes showed up. Hestia nodded toward him and went away. Hermes's brow furrowed as though he was annoyed. He asked the others to take a walk around Olympus and only Andy and Anthony stayed behind.

"Hermes," Andy started. "We need to speak with Zeus."

"I'm his messenger. Leave a message."

"Sir," Anthony said. "Kronos is going to attack New York. My mother must have foreseen it."

"Don't get me started on your mother, boy," Hermes grumbled. "She's the reason I'm here at all. She insisted it was a trap and someone needed to be here. She wanted to come back herself but, of course, Zeus sent me."

"Did she give you any messages for us?" Anthony asked.

"Messages," Hermes muttered. "They said it would be an easy job. Not much work. Lost of worshipers. Hmph. Nobody cared what I have to say. It's always about other people's messages." He stared at Anthony. "Your mother said you are on your own. You must hold Manhattan without the help of the gods. As if you didn't know that, right? Why they pay her to be the wisdom goddess, I really don't know."

"Anything else?"

"She said you should try plan twenty-three." Anthony's face paled. "And she said to you," Hermes turned to Andy, "that you should remember the rivers. And to stay away from her son."

Andy grinned. "That does sound like something she'd say."

"Thank you, Hermes," Anthony said. "And I'm sorry. About everything. About Luke."

Hermes's eyes turned cold. "You should be. You were the only one who could've saved him. You and that Thalia girl. But she chose the Hunters and you chose this fishy demigod."

"Well, it's not his fault if-" Andy tried to say but Hermes cut her.

"Don't defend him, Jackson. He knows exactly what I'm talking about."

"You know, maybe you should stop pointing fingers, Hermes, and take a good long look at yourself," Andy said. "You were the one who left him. You left them. And his mom-" Hermes grabbed her by the neck and pulled her close.

"Hey!" Anthony tried to get between them, but the god gave him the death stare.

"Jackson," Hermes said, trying to control his voice, "because you have taken on the curse of Achilles, I must spare you. You are in the hands of the Fates now. But you will never speak to me like that again. You have no idea how much I have sacrificed, how much-" his voice broke and he let go of her neck. "My son. My greatest pride. My poor May..."

"What happened to her?" Andy asked carefully. "She said... And her eyes..."

Hermes glared at her. "You shouldn't have gone there," he said and then disappeared.

"Are you okay?" Anthony said.

"Yeah. And it's not your fault. He's just looking for somebody to blame. You saw the guilt in his face."

"Why did you went to see Ms Castellan?" he asked in a whisper.

"I... Nico and I... We had to ask her..."

"You..." his voice faltered. "Did you bathe in the River Styx?"

"Anthony-"

"Did you or not?" Knowing she had no other choice, Andy nodded. Anthony shook his head in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how dangerous-"

"I didn't have a choice," she rushed. "It's the only way I can stand up to Luke."

"He did that, too, right? That's why he didn't die when... He went to the Styx... What was he thinking? What were you thinking?"

"He didn't die and neither did I. That's what matters. Now I'll face him. And we'll defend Olympus. Together."

There seemed to be a war going on inside his eyes. "Plan twenty-three," he said, letting of the subject, which definitely wasn't like him. He rummaged in his pack and pulled out Daedalus's laptop. "We have a lot of work to do. If my mother wants me to use this plan, she must think things are very bad."

Just then, the Stoll brothers ran into the throne room. "You have got to see this," Connor said. "Now."

#andromeda #andy jackson #anthony chase #nico di angelo #genderbend #fanfic #dfcrosas #child of land and sea #walking on water #fem percy jackson #andony

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powmanok · 6 years ago

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One

The sweat burned in his eyes as he lay in the mud. The antagonizing sun was merciless. His clothes were stained with the sweat of his hard earned lead. But as he looked up at the grand statue of Sayvior, Austin realized that he couldn’t stop here. The only reason he had the privilege to be alive today was due to the sacrifice that Sayvior, the greatest hero of the superhero age, made for the good of PowManok.The statue almost seemed to look down upon him, instilling Austin with a guilty feeling. Heroes don’t quit. Time to gut it out.

It took all his might but he was not about to quit here. Austin knew he must finish this race. As he rose to his feet, he had a new drive. The adrenaline was pumping. And with that new motivation, Austin started running. Ahead he saw the high wall. A straight forward sprint up the wall could get him up top. But then he noticed the sides.

With some quick hops Austin was up the wall and going. A quick look back and no one in sight.

“Good,” thought Austin. He was in the lead and if he could just hold on to this lead, he would be a shoo in for the top cadet in his class.

The rope bridge was easy. After years of free running all across PowManok, Austin was pretty good at the hard stuff, and this was a breeze. Next was the ladder and monkey bars, and again Austin found his way with some ease. The upcoming net looked tough though, reminding him of his old game system and all the cords. Tangled in a knot that was not worth the organizing. But as he passed the statue of Kunoichi, the famed deadly female ninja, it gave him a thought. She was nimble, like he. Surely he could take his scrawny frame and with some skilled navigating, finesse his way through the web of wire.

Upon getting close he dive headfirst into the mess, making even better time than he thought getting past it.

Another glance back, no one in sight.

“I got this,” he thought.

Final stretch. A quick sprint and a long high jump and he would be champion. And with a full sprint he grabbed the pole and put his all into one final thrust. The moments in the air felt completely natural to Austin. As he flew thru the air, he noticed the stern yet protective face of Captain Pilgrim looking toward him. For some reason, on this day, it seemed to Austin like even he was proud of such a valiant effort.

As he fell down to the finish, he felt like a true hero, like his Dad. Finally, after taking a quick rest, Austin slowly pulled himself to his feet, awaiting the celebration. But he looked up to see... disappointment.

There stood Saul. With the platinum trophy held over his head. Austin came in second. How? He trained, practiced this course. Followed all the instructions. Watched the videos. Studied the superheroes advice. How could he not have done the best?

Austin sulked over to take his second place trophy. Even though he felt salty, at least he had the written portion of the exam ready. He was sure a perfect score was on the way in that, at least. Nobody in the Kingdom of PowManok could touch his encyclopedic knowledge of the Hero’s Bible. He knew it practically word for word. And yet he beat himself up a little inside. Even though they were just statues, Austin felt like he let them down.

Akira came up third with a light jog. He never seemed to take any of this seriously. If he only applied himself then maybe he could be better than third place.

The announcements didn’t even help him to feel better. As they broadcast the results by loudspeaker it seemed like the whole arena echoed the words “second place” in Austin’s ears. Like it just bounced off the wall. As he looked up at the titanic statues all around of the superhero legends, he felt all of a sudden less than.

“Don’t take it so hard, it’s only the beginning of your hero’s journey.”

Austin turned his head to see Akira’s optimistic face looking up at him. Maybe Akira was just trying to cheer him up. But what could he have to say of importance? Akira never took anything seriously, of course he’d be okay with a subpar performance.

Still, a true hero is still courteous. So Austin responded with the tact and encouragement that a hero in training should.

“No matter what the obstacle, a cadet is not here to make excuses, but to remove them. I will be fine, I just need to try harder, that’s all.”

Akira just looked at him. He seemed clueless to Austin. Always lost in a dream world. Then he turned to Saul.

Saul always seemed like he didn’t want to be there in the first place. How could he lose to someone like that? It’s such a waste of good genetics, Austin thought.

Just then, an loud cheer rang through the arena. Austin turned to see what the fuss was about, curious.

In walked Captain Pilgrim, the last remaining original Siege member. As he grabbed a microphone, Austin grabbed a front row seat, ready to feed off every word.

“Attention, young cadets.” Captain Pilgrim’s veteran voice reeked of confidence and pride. His uniform shined in the light from the sunroof, showing each battle scar and every tear from war.

“This is the first step to being one of the official peacekeepers of The Isle of PowManok. Every step you take, and with every ounce of energy you have in you, and every brain cell rattling around in your heads needs to be dedicated to the safety and order of this nation. Crime doesn’t want to follow order. Crime doesn’t want things to be safe. The evildoers of society aren’t worried about unity, or a system. What they want it to succeed the easy way. They are a cowardly lot. They don’t want to put in the work. They don’t want to sacrifice for the greater good. They don’t want the hard working citizens to feel safe, they want them in fear and servitude. They come filled with hatred and anger. And that’s why at the end of the day, WE ALWAYS WIN!!”

A rousing cheer filled the air from the crowd.

“Let me tell you guys a story,” Pilgrim continued. “Evolution favors the order that allows us all to live free. In the past, there were many countries on many lands called continents. And over time the old society let their guard down and let the the few greedy ones take over. They brought war, and enforced their will on the general public. While the common man slept, they corrupted the world and turned the law into their own private armies. Then evolution fixed the balance, granting intelligence and gifts to those with the power to change the world. But it was too late. Nuclear war swept the land. Those heroes, found that instead of taking on one city at a time, that unity was the key to their strength. And so the Siege was born. Sayvior, granted with more powers than you could even comprehend. Kunoichi, a nimble tactician with deadly accuracy and precision. The Doc, with the intelligence of a thousand men. And the Strongman, Mule; able to hold a building on his mighty shoulders. And finally myself, Captain Pilgrim with a virtue as great as my physical prowess. Together we helped found a safe land. This Isle of PowManok, where a hard working citizen can feel protected and earn a good living the old fashioned Ameri-, I mean, the old fashioned traditional way.”

As the crowd roared with approval, a steady rumbling silenced them. What was that? Suddenly, a crash broke the silence as a tank broke thru the wall, knocking the Captain to the floor.

A lone person climbed upon the top with a megaphone.

“What’s up sheep!” He said loudly. “My name is Samson. We are the Vermillionaires. Everything that man told you is nothing more than a shallow lie! This facade will end soon, and the mask will be ripped off! You are the best soldiers in all the land. Make your choice now, we will take over from this sham of a monarchy and reveal all its dirty little secrets to the public! You have one week, and then if you aren’t for us you are against us. Join the rebellion, or watch progress pass you by! The clock is ticking. And here is a sample of what we can do.”

And with that, the tank shot a ear shattering blast directly at Captain Pilgrim who was just rising to his feet. Being the hero he is, he flipped out of the way.

“That the best you got, terrorist?” He shouted.

Samson replied, calmly.

“No.”

Captain Pilgrim looked up to see his statue tipping in his direction. Within seconds, he was buried under the rubble of his giant image as it crashed down upon him.

“See? Look how feeble the old guard has become! You have one week to make your choice. We’re done here. For now.”

As the tank rolled out, the cadets ran over to clear the rubble off the fallen hero.

This could be the first real battle he faces. Samson and the Vermillionaires are a very real threat. What would a hero do? This is what he trained for his whole life. It’s time for action. But first, he needed a plan. This is messed up, but maybe it could be the thing that makes him the best hero cadet. It was time to make moves. Samson was going down.

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doomonfilm · 4 years ago

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Thoughts : Penitentiary (1979)

Week two of the I Saw What You Did podcast’s celebration of Black History Month marks my first foray into Blaxploitation for 2021, and luckily, it’s a film I knew little about and had yet to see. Penitentiary had been on my radar in the past, but I somehow seemed to overlook it in my past viewings of Blaxploitation films, but based on the recommendation from Millie and Danielle, now felt like as appropriate a time as any to jump on that watch session.

Martel Gordone (Leon Isaac Kennedy) is a grifter living on the road when he hitchhikes a ride with Linda (Hazel Spears), a prostitute traveling, living and working out of her van. Linda announces her intentions to bed Martel, but stops at a diner beforehand to meet a client, where Martel gets into a conflict with two strangers that land him in jail. He is immediately thrust into a volatile situation involving Jesse Amos (Donovan Womack) and his cadre of muscle : the unhinged Half-Dead Johnson (Badja Djola) and the sketchy Sweet Pea (Wilbur White). The group, along with notorious inmate Magilla Gorilla (Will Richardson), are terrorizing a young and naïve inmate named Eugene T. Lawson (Thommy Pollard), and due to Martel’s bunk assignment with Half-Dead, he finds himself involved. Martel quickly gains a reputation in the prison, along with the nickname Too Sweet (due to his love for Mr. Goodbars), and his reputation is cemented when he bests Half-Dead in an attempt to break him. After being moved into a cell with longtime inmate Hezzikia Jackson (Floyd Chatman), known by some as Seldom-Seen, Too Sweet begins to learn the true stakes involved in the crooked game he has become a part of.

Penitentiary is one of those rare cases in Blaxploitation films where the stylistic exploitation surpasses the Black aspect of the genre. The film is presented to us with all of the gravitas of a Greek tragedy, with a brief introduction to our protagonist presented in a worldly aspect ratio before he is abruptly plunged into his hero’s journey and reformed as Too Sweet. The supporting cast (and location, for that matter) fills in the proper roles as well… the institution in itself plays like the labyrinth, with Half-Dead serving as a Minotaur. Linda sends Too Sweet down his harrowing path in a manner similar to that of a siren. Hezzikia leans more towards the “Seldom Seen” Dionysian scale (pun intended), while Gene is an approximation of Demeter. Even Jesse exerts Zues-esque characteristics, albeit it with more mental manipulation than outright physical prowess and might. These are certainly not the only framing aspects present, as this device seems to be deliberate and deep rooted.

This framing mechanism is not used at the expense of the natural drama that comes from using prison as the subject of your film. Multiple aspects of prison culture are given deep examination, including institutionalization, machismo, order, sexuality and violence (and their intersectionality), pride, respect and personal discipline. Lots of visual shorthand is present in lieu of clunky expositional passages, and in turn, the indicated subtext is immediately understood without disrupting the forward momentum and pacing present in the film. The film is certainly a reflection of the times both visually and narratively, but because it is so well directed and precisely executed, it exceeds the range of the goals it likely set for itself (similar to The Warriors, which came out the same year).

This film has some of the best lighting I’ve seen in the Blaxploitation genre… budgetary constraints tend to make most of this films a bit of a struggle to watch, but Penitentiary not only has strong lighting, it’s incredibly dynamic as well, setting a very grim mood from the outset. The writing has an inspired, lifted quality to it, but is not without the absence of humor or heart-racing tension connected to the more violent sequences. The score swings between more traditional symphonic turns and tribal-inspired sequences, helping to ratchet the deeply primal emotional swings connected to prison time. The slight use of Dutch angles not only symbolizes how skewed the world of the film is for the characters trapped within it, but it brings to mind the existentialist nature of German Expressionism. The writing is by no means flat, but the actors cast are able to elevate what was on the page into richer emotional depths.

Leon Isaac Kennedy channels a lot of the same energy that makes Ice-T so popular, including unwavering confidence, a gift of gab, distinct looks and a badass streak a mile long. Thommy Pollard is so awkward that you immediately fear for his safety, giving his character room to find confidence in a place where character is a must. Floyd Chatman channels Mister Miyagi energy years before Pat Morita did, handing out bits of sage wisdom from the few cracks present in the walls of sternness and privacy he has built up. Donovan Womack plays the coy and calculated kingpin antagonist, surrounding himself with a wall of muscle and minions to separate him from his foes. Badja Djola ratchets up menace right to the boiling point with a very ground approach to psychopathy, making him genuinely scary in terms of screen presence. Will Richardson finds a very unique way to channel fear into comedy, with a payoff occurring once he allows himself to be painfully vulnerable in defeat. Hazel Spears, Wilbur White, Gloria Delaney, Ian Fox, Chuck Mitchell, Cephus Jaxon, Dwaine Fobbs, Ernest Wilson and more round out the large ensemble cast.

With the half-life of the Blaxploitation era spanning just under a decade, it makes sense that Penitentiary (a film that unofficially marked the end of the era) would be the truest glimpse at how well made films of the genre could truly be. This film is not only rich in all the aspects that make a good movie, but it is strong in all of the most enjoyable aspects of exploitation film as well, and it unashamedly aims for targets well beyond any it has a right to… more often than not, it hits the bullseye.

#ChiefDoomsday #DOOMonFILM #JamaaFanaka #Penitentiary #LeonIsaacKennedy #ThommyPollard #FloydChatman #DonovanWomack #BadjaDjola #WillRichardson #HazelSpears #WilburWhite #GloriaDelaney #IanFox #ChuckMitchell #CephusJaxon #DwaineFobbs #ErnestWilson

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grither55 · 4 years ago

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The Princess and the Peasant - (An Azula Epic) - Chapter 89 - The Potential Within

The Sentinel Tree now rapidly repaired itself while cracks of light penetrated the deep underground cavern below.

Just as Silah slid down from the side of the cavern wall with her angered blue eyes staring out from underneath her mask.

While Nako rasped on her knees with her eyes agape in trauma while Ty Lee patted her back.

"It's going to be okay Nako." Ty Lee assured in a supportive voice as Nako stared down at her hands with terror-stricken eyes.

All the while as both Azula and Zoe glared at Silah through their corner of their eyes while the artist dropped to the ground below.

"So…. you are alive after all Mava." Silah stated with her masked face gazing back at her old friend's wrinkled countenance while Zoe fired her line into the rock above.

"Had you not been so single minded with your twisted perversions you would have noticed that sooner." Mava answered in a gravely voice as she leaned heavily under her staff while the group gazed at her in fascination.

"I must say old hag. I truly thought that you kicked the bucket. Though by the look of it that may not be too far off." Azula spoke in a snide voice with her cold eyes glancing down at the hunched over sage.

"Azula!" The brown-haired woman chided while her friend just rolled her golden eyes in response.

"By Agni. What a deranged beast you have become. I had known that you lost your way…but this…" The sage trailed off in an almost saddened voice as she raised her glowing staff into the air.

And just like that the tree roots began to spill out towards the cornered artist.

While the princess rose a brow beside her equally intrigued companions just as the captain's line embedded in the rock above.

And then the enraged warrior soared towards the artist with steam blowing off her body.

"You only say that because you have not been enlightened…like I have." The puppeteer remarked with her pale hand on the wall while the captain plunged down above her.

Only for the two Fire Twins to slam into the furious captain from both sides as the seething woman slid across the rock in her anger.

Just as she skidded to a stop with her sword in hand while her hazel eyes boiled over in rage.

"P-princess…she's…." Nako coughed as she rasped for air as her comrades turned to her with attentive eyes.

While Azula turned to stare down at her with even more approval in her callous golden eyes.

"Take a moment to catch your breath Nako." Mai advised in a marginally kinder voice than before she got to know the girl while the pilot coughed once more.

Although she couldn't help but stare at the demented puppeteer with hidden fear in her tawny eyes.

Even with the tide seemingly turning in their favor with the old woman's return she wasn't comfortable being anywhere near that maniac.

As far as she was concerned the sooner.

The sooner they get as far away as possible from that monster the better!

"She's…using wires to control them!" The royal pilot shouted with her eyes wide in terror while her comrades spun around to gaze down at her in surprise.

As the princess and the captain's eyes widened as they watched the puppeteer leap away onto the rock above.

And that was when they saw it.

There was a faint glimmer of silver in the sun’s rays that glistened in the air between the puppets and their master!

Azula's callous golden eyes narrowed into a hawk like gaze as she glared murderously at her enemy's concealed face.

'So, it wasn't just my imagination! That was a wire!' The princess thought with her brilliant golden eyes taking on a predatory gleam while turned to gaze back down at her devoted pilot in recognition.

"Wires? That's insane! She is doing all of that with wires?" Saro asked in a stunned voice with his golden eyes gazing on in astonishment.

'So…that's her secret.' Zoe thought with her hazel eyes taking on a fixated gleam while her harsh gaze followed the movements of the backpedaling puppeteer.

"I am going to tear those wires out one by one and then we'll see just how formidable you are without your toys." The captain stated in a ruthless voice as she propelled herself into the air while the artist's lips curved into a devious smile.

"Be careful captain! It's…not as simple as it sounds!" Nako advised as she sat up on her knees while her companions listened attentively.

All the while as Zoe gazed over her shoulder with her hazel eyes paying mind to the young pilot's words.

What the girl lacked in physical prowess she more than made up for in strategic wit.

And that was worthy of her respect.

"Explain yourself Nako." Azula ordered in a strict voice with her callous eyes studying the puppet's closely as they jumped down in front of their master.

"I…found a wire chamber! It was…like an enormous web of cables. There were hundreds…maybe even thousands of them! And she was shifting them away from your location every time that you and the captain attacked!" The royal pilot exclaimed in a hurried voice with her companions now gazing down at her in shock.

While the princess's golden eyes now shone with renewed aggravation as she put one boot forward.

Before she watched with narrowed eyes when Zoe lunged through the air at the smirking puppeteer.

Only for Silah to yank her fingers on something unseen while the captain fell down above her.

And not a second later…

The warrior's eyes widened in surprise when she felt small threads swiftly wrap around her arms and legs.

All the while as the twins now jumped down above her from both angles.

"If you think my artwork is that simplistic then you are a fool. My art is much more intricate than that." Silah spoke in a sanguine voice as she swung Zoe in the air while the captain gritted her teeth in her ire.

"Of course, nothing with this freak would be simple." The markswoman muttered as she stood up with her knives in hand.

"And somehow…she is able to render them nearly invisible…" Nako trailed off as she fell silent when Silah's terrifying blue eyes met her own.

And just like that she was once more swallowing in terror as sweat dripped down her brow.

Before she found herself jumping in surprise when Azula's commanding voice shouted in her ear.

"Stop that cowering Nako!" The princess barked in her usual domineering voice while she glared down at her shaken pilot.

"I apologize princess! I am trying but I am afraid." The royal pilot answered in a skittish voice while the acrobat offered her a sympathetic look.

"Azula…try to go a little easier on her. She…went through a great ordeal." Ty Lee explained in a soft voice while Azula's lips still pursed into a regal scowl.

"I would have thought that I have made it abundantly clear by now that I am not going to let you die." Azula spoke in a callous voice as she turned to direct a murderous stare at her enemy while Nako soon found herself smiling in relief.

"I…will remember that princess. Thank you." Nako stated in a quiet voice as she stood up while the ground continued to rumble all around them.

All the while as she gazed up at the ancient tree in wonder as its branches repaired at an astonishing rate.

While Azula briefly regarded her loyal subordinate through the corner of an impressed golden eye.

'To think that Nako was able to decipher all of that in a few mere minutes…which is to say nothing of that little invention of hers. There is no doubt about it…this peasant pilot of mine is an indispensable resource.' The princess thought with her icy eyes turning to gaze ahead while her burning fists clenched at her womanly hips.

She will have to keep a close watch over that one.

It would not do to lose her.

And then she watched with stoic golden eyes as they were pulled back on a platform of tree roots.

Just before the furious captain was flung away into a pile of rubble while she ground her teeth together when her back slammed into a wall of rock.

"We must be done with Silah fast so we can conclude the ritual." Mava stated in a hurried voice with her staff held high as the tree repaired itself while Azula's possessive golden eyes peered down at the dozing girl.

"If anything happens to that girl…" Azula trailed off in a menacing voice with her golden eyes now gazing down at the sage in a terrifying stare that had her companions shuddering beside her.

"If anything happens to her you're all going to die eventually so it really doesn't matter. Now do me a favor and shut up! Brat!" The sage snapped as the others listened in a floored silence while the princess's angered eyes stared back at her in loathing.

'What does that mean? If something happens to Elle…we all die?' Mai thought with her tawny eyes gazing down at the girl in concern while rocks continued to explode into the air.

'Damn her! There are far too many cables. It won't be easy finding which ones are powering her puppets.' Zoe thought as she sliced her arm free of cables while her stony hazel eyes glared back at the artist's masked visage.

And then not even seconds later.

The sound of a piercing explosion of tree roots below shattered into the air as they all spun around to gaze down below.

As Silah's pale lips curved into a smug smirk while Team Azula's eyes flashed with frustration when they saw the mechanical badgermole bursting free of its restraints.

Azula and Zoe shared a look of aggravation while they quickly glared between the puppeteer and her metal monstrosity.

While their eyes grew wider in alarm when the creature opened its mouth once more with its cannon aimed up at them.

Just before the projectile fired high into the air while the princess's forced stared on with their eyes agape in fright.

Only for Azula to take them by surprise when she swiftly generated lightning at her fingertips.

And then the monarch released her gathered energy before it impacted with the cannon fire mere moments later.

And then a booming explosion echoed into the air while they watched in awe with their elbows shielding their eyes.

While the princess now held her smoking hand before her merciless face while she glared at Silah through the corner of her icy eye.

"Nice shot Azula!" The brown-haired woman exclaimed as she gazed at her leader's tall back in amazement while the princess's lips twitched into the barest hint of a smirk.

'How is she controlling that vehicle? I don't see any cables connecting it to her…does she have an accomplice?' The princess thought with her full lips pursed into a tight scowl while she glared back at the puppeteer's smiling lips.

"Indeed princess…well done." The captain commented as she stood staring hard back at her opponent's concealed face while the artist's visible lips curved into an even larger smirk.

"Nako...if I recall correctly you hail from Tengshu…is that right?" The puppeteer questioned without warning while the pilot's golden eyes grew wide in horror.

And even the others fell silent in a state of shock that the woman had the gall to threaten a Fire Nation village.

Even the princess and the captain could only stare back at the masked woman in a margin of disbelief.

"H-how…do you know that?" The royal pilot responded in a trembling voice while the two noblewomen shook in fury behind her.

"I make it a point to know everything about my prey. Even the small ones. It is a scenic little impoverished farmers village. Your parents own a small bakeshop…and the majority of their earnings go straight into the pockets of your gracious new friends…just like every other peasant in this pathetic nation." Silah remarked in a taunting voice with a fist upon her hip while the pilot's eyes shook in a rare moment of conflict.

The effect of the artist's words was instantaneous.

Mai and Ty Lee were now gazing on with the anger in their eyes having transformed into a deep shame.

While they now stared at Azula's glowering face while the royal woman glared at them through the corner of her ruthless eye.

And Zoe's fury in her eyes began to boil over even further while she crushed a rock beneath her fist.

It was obvious that the sadistic artist was trying to sow discord in the minds of Azula's companions.

And what angered the princess more than anything was the fact that it was working.

"You are such a good dog. Standing by your master while your fellow villagers suffer to line her many palaces with gold. Maybe if you're a good girl she'll throw a few more treats your way. Or maybe…you should join the rising anti-monarchy movement." The puppeteer purred in a devious voice with her heartless blue eyes staring back at their stunned faces.

While Azula's eyes were now agape in utter rage as she balled up her fists in rapidly rising paranoia.

First her father deceives her.

And then she learns of a peasant rebellion.

And now she hears that there is an anti-monarchy movement!

The highborn women present stared on in a state of shock while the puppeteer licked her lips perversely once more.

"Anti-monarchy movement!" Azula snarled with flames spewing from her lips while her enraged eyes glared ahead.

And her childhood friend shivered in growing pity for the rebelling peasant class.

"You didn't know Azula? There is growing negative sentiment towards you and your friends…talk of purging all highborn nationwide." Silah informed in a gloating voice while Azula's eyes continued to bubble over in outrage.

Both Saro and Nako were wisely silent as they swallowed quietly.

While Ty Lee and Mai exchanged a knowing look.

Judging by the way that Azula looked as if she was salivating in fury, they could only shiver when they imagined what the princess would do when she confronted the peasant mob.

'Azula…I truly hope that Elle's presence will continue to persuade you to be a better person than your father…' Ty Lee thought with a look of great discomfort in her brown-gray eyes while Azula lips shook in a glower.

"And people call me a thief." Jiao snorted with her arms folded over her breasts while Azula spun around to glare icily her way.

"These peasants will be dealt with. I am done with being questioned. There will be no mercy for the disloyal!" The princess spoke in an unforgiving voice as she angrily clenched a fist before her seething face while her lifelong friends swallowed in fear behind her.

"And she wonders why I do not consider her worthy." Mava scoffed under her breath as she paid no mind to Azula's petrifying glare.

Only for the princess's anger to grow even further when her captain had the gall to glare up into her eyes!

"This will not stand. You will fix this. Or I will fix you." Zoe stated with her hazel eyes staring fearlessly back into Azula's now beyond wrathful gaze.

A shudder spread throughout the air while the puppeteer chuckled as she clenched her fingers along her cables.

"How dare you threaten me Zoe. I suggest you remember that you are only second in command and it is me that is in command." Azula retorted in a much colder voice than her usual while Zoe still stared defiantly back at her.

And somewhere deep down inside of her.

Even though she would never admit it aloud.

There was a tiny part of her that was strangely bothered by the woman's anger.

Dare she say it…that she actually considered her warrior her friend?

"Of course, I also recall that particular province is somewhere…that way. It shouldn't be too difficult for me to make it there in under seven days. And I would say…that it wouldn't take me any longer than ten hours to kill all one thousand villagers." The puppeteer announced in an utterly monstrous voice with her pale finger now pointing across the horizon.

And just like that the group froze up in a state of sheer speechlessness while the pilot trembled in her tracks.

"No! You leave my village alone!" Nako blurted out with great terror in her shaken voice while her companions stewed in anger beside her.

And the princess pursed her lips together with fire flaring to life upon her fingertips once more.

'How dare she…act as if she is to be feared more than me and Father!' The princess thought with fire escaping her nostrils while the artist lapped at her lips.

And the captain gripped her katana as she began to march furiously towards the smirking woman.

"But then again…they are already living in considerable misery as is. Killing them could be seen as an act of mercy. Why waste the energy to kill people that will suffer more living under Azula's rule than they would dying at my hands?" Silah sighed with an uncaring wave of her pale hand as the group listened in revulsion while Nako's short hair hung in her traumatized eyes.

And the two noblewomen continued to stare pointedly at their friend's ruthless face while the princess now stared imposingly back into their judging eyes.

Only for the pilot's voice to take them all by surprise when she shouted out in anger.

"I…won't fall for your shit! My Crown Princess gave me her word that she would help Tengshu! Maybe I am just a dog! But I believe that she will make a just ruler to the loyal! So, go play your games with someone else! If you defeat her, you're going to kill me anyway so why should I listen to you!" The royal pilot shouted at the top of her lungs with a spark of bravery flowing through her veins.

All the while her companions stared at her in a taken aback state of shock.

Azula turned to stare back at her loyal subject with her cold eyes expressing uncharacteristic approval.

And then a faint smile returned to her beautiful lips before she took her friends by surprise when she placed a hand on the angered girl's shoulder.

While Nako also gazed up with surprise into her golden eyes as she stood with her hand on the taken aback pilot's shoulder.

"Well said my royal pilot. Know that your Crown Princess recognizes your loyalty. Worry not about your little village. I will mend it." Azula spoke with a pleased smile on her lips while her palm lingered on her pilot's moved shoulder.

"Y-your Highness…I don't know what to say." Nako answered in a still shaken voice as she stood proudly with her princess's hand on her shoulder.

Just as a small smile formed upon her lips as she gazed up into the other woman's charming golden eyes.

Her princess truly is her friend! She knows it!

"Then just obey Nako…and I will take care of the rest." The princess purred as she patted the smaller woman's shoulder while her pilot hurriedly nodded her emotional head.

"I will princess! I will." The royal pilot assured as she stood more confidently under her princess's mighty hand.

Before the tall monarch turned to stare imposingly at the masked artist once more with her glacial eyes still burning in deep fury.

Only for another explosion of tree roots to launch into the air while Team Azula's forces now gazed on in renewed amazement when the old woman raised her staff once more.

And then the stunned captain turned to watch as the branches shot over her shoulder and straight at the puppeteer.

In seconds the vines slammed into a wall of rock while the group stared at the sage in returning wonderment.

While the masked puppeteer now stared coldly back into her old friend's angered glazed over golden eyes.

"You are a far cry from the woman I once knew! They used to call you Silah the Wise! Now you are nothing more than a demented killer!" The sage hollered out in anger while the others listened in bewilderment.

"To the contrary Mava. I am wiser than I have ever been. I create beautiful art that does not rot or fade. But I wouldn't expect you to understand true art." The puppeteer retorted with a sneer while she swept her hand to the side.

And just like that the Fire Twins lit up their bending while the princess's forces gazed between the two in confusion.

And all but Zoe and Azula shuddered as they gazed at the two siblings' lifeless faces in boundless disgust.

It was obvious from the moment that the masked woman appeared at the old woman's hut that the two knew each other.

But the context of that relation was still a mystery to them.

"Old woman. You still haven't explained your relation to this…freak." Azula hissed with her frigid eyes glaring in hatred back at Silah's still smug face.

She has long since decided that she despised her smile.

Even though she could only make out her eyes and lip.

She could tell that it was the look of someone who thought that she knew more than her.

And that was something…that she intended to find out!

"Are you aware of the nature of the enemy that seeks to destroy the young Component?" Mava pondered with her wrinkled hand clutching her staff while the group listened in rising intrigue.

While the princess still gazed between the two with her cold golden eyes searching for something unseen.

"I am. I am also aware that the child's chance of survival is…abysmal to say the least. Which is why I am going to use her for my purposes before her time runs out." Silah stated in a heartless voice with a dark smile pulling at her pale lips while Azula's golden eyes now burned with indescribable wrath.

As did both Mai and Ty Lee as they now stared back at the twisted woman with protectiveness in their sisterly eyes.

"No. No, you will not. The girl is mine." The princess snarled as she put one boot forward while she glared furiously at the puppeteer's chuckling face.

Only for the old woman's staff to intercept her before she could proceed any further.

She turned to stare coldly at the sage through the corner of her eye while the hunched over elderly woman hobbled forward.

"And just what would those purposes be?" The sage inquired in a leveled voice while the masked woman turned to point up over her shoulder into the distant sky.

Everyone on Team Azula gazed up out from the underground cavern into the far away distance.

Only for their eyes to widen when they saw a faint light spiraling upon the horizon.

"The portal to the Component's homeland is growing even as we speak. I want…her to take me there and show me the wonder that await in this foreign land." The puppeteer announced in a voice of great longing while the group listened in astonishment.

"A portal to Elle's homeland." Zoe commented with her hazel eyes wide in awe while Azula also gazed on in grudging fascination.

While Saro, Nako and Jiao could only stare on with utter bewilderment in their eyes.

It went without saying that there was much about the young girl that they had not been told.

'So…that's how those soldiers were able to invade into my domain…I must establish control over that vortex! But how?' Azula thought with fire escaping her nostrils while her brows furrowed in frustration.

"What is that you seek there Silah?" Mava queried in a graveled voice while Silah stared back at her with emotionless blue eyes.

"Isn't it obvious? After I harvest my final targets then I will have exhausted all the use that I have left for the four nations. And then…" Silah trailed off in a predatory voice with her tongue running along her lips while she took a step closer.

While a deep sense of silence spread throughout the air while the group stared at her in shock.

"You will not be harvesting my corpse! Because I am going to vaporize you!" The princess shouted in a venomous voice with her golden eyes wide in murderous fury.

The mere notion that this woman had the gall to not only openly declare that she coveted the bending of the Princess of the Fire Nation.

But that she also had the nerve to claim that the Fire Nation was of no further use to her was made her flames boil in fury!

"I shall hunt anew in a new land!" The puppeteer declared in a maddened voice with the veins in her blue eyes bulging out in her bloodlust while the princess's forces stood in a speechless silence.

"She…wants to terrorize Elle's homeland?" Mai asked with her tawny eyes wide in realization while Azula's lips pursed into a thin line.

"Azula…we…we can't let that happen!" Ty Lee cried out with horror in her voice while she shook in rage.

"I already know that Ty Lee!" Azula scoffed with her fires burning on her imposing fists once more while she hardened her callous eyes.

Just as Zoe put another heavy combat boot forward while her hazel gaze narrowed into focused slits.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Silah. You haven't defeated us yet. Until then I suggest you stay focused on the battle at hand." The captain remarked in a merciless voice with her katana gripped in her fist while steam once more rose off her tense muscles.

Just before the grinning artist flicked her fingers backward while the hooded puppet extended his arms out to his sides.

And then not a second later.

The earth itself began to rumble with such force that the group could only stare on in astonishment.

While the mysterious puppet stood with his arms held out while rocks began to rain down from above once again.

All along while Zoe's hazel eyes once more widened with reminiscence as she stared all around her in wonderment.

'This power…it's like…' Zoe thought as she now stood frozen in her tracks with that same familiar sensation of glory rushing down her spine.

Could it possibly be…

"What incredible earthbending…" Saro spoke in amazement as he gazed around him with awestruck golden eyes.

Just as an explosion of azure fire flooded forth from the princess while her companions turned to gaze at their leader in unhidden marvelment.

"Please. This doesn't even begin to compare to my evolved flames." The princess boasted with blue fire accentuating her beautiful features while her defensive veil of flames blazed to life.

While the heat from her intense flames licked at her skin.

All the while as she stared imperiously back into Silah's equally monstrous blue gaze.

And with that a malicious stare down began with the two mighty female firebenders glaring coldly back into the artist's voraciously greedy eyes.

Only for it to be broken by the old woman as she shuffled forward with her staff clanging the stone ground of the stone ground.

"Stay back you two. I will handle her." The sage announced as she stepped past the princess while she let out a derisive snort.

"And how exactly are you going to do that old woman?" Azula snorted as she stared down at the crone's robed back.

Yet she found herself unable to suppress a spark of intrigue from gleaming through her icy golden eyes.

While the rest of the group also gazed at the bizarre old woman in puzzlement as she slowly advanced closer.

The captain gazed over her shoulder at the sage with her focused hazel eyes conveying a deep curiosity.

All the while as the earth continued to buckle underneath the ominous force of the hooded puppet's powerful earthbending.

Rocks large and small continued to drop down from above while the sage now stared back into her old friend's strikingly cruel eyes.

"Yes, how do you plan to accomplish that Mava?" Silah pondered in a smooth voice with her unfeeling eyes gazing out from underneath her mask.

"As I am now, I cannot defeat you. And if this battle continues. The chances are greater than not that you will make off with the Component before I awaken her chi." Mava remarked as she made her way forward with her robes flowing behind her.

Azula's possessive golden eyes stared out from her wall of raging flames as she defensively stood over her young girlfriend's motionless body.

While her childhood friends remained crouched over the girl with their glaring eyes keeping a close watch on their enemy.

"Once again you take your Crown Princess too lightly. She will not get past my flames." The princess hissed with fire exuding from her nostrils while her callous eyes glared ahead.

Although she could see the merit in the old woman's tactic.

And as much as she was loathed to admit she couldn't deny that the sage was shrewd.

In some respects, she even reminded her of her wretched fuddy duddy Uncle Iroh.

"Then you admit that you cannot defeat me." The puppeteer purred as she advanced forward with her bloodthirsty eyes staring at the faces of her enemies.

Before her gaze turned back to her old friend's glazed golden eyes while the sage held herself up by her staff.

"No, I cannot." The sage agreed with a nod of her head while the princess's group gazed on in bewilderment.

And Azula now stared at the old woman with deadpan golden eyes.

'Just what is her ploy?' Azula thought with her calculating gaze lingering on the crone's aged back.

"What is the point in standing against me if cannot fight as my equal?" Silah taunted with annoyance lacing her cold voice while she gazed at her old friend's worn face.

It was a question on the minds of all present.

But before anyone could even so much as open their mouth to voice it.

They found themselves gazing up in shock when the ancient tree rose finally finished rearing up above them.

Just as a great light shone into the air while the sage thrust her staff into the air as she began to glow in unison with the tree itself!

"But I can repel you from the Forgetful Valley!" Mava called out with her staff tightly grasped in hand while a great power erupted into the air behind her.

All the while as Silah's blue eyes grew wider as she turned to gaze all around her.

"Repel? The Sentinel Tree is only as strong as its user! You are dilapidated and feeble Mava! You cannot possibly harness its full power as you stand now!" The puppeteer scoffed in a dismissive voice as she gazed up at the ancient tree.

Only for her blue eyes to grow even larger as she shielded her face beneath her sleeve.

While her pale lips fell open in an expression of disbelief when the tree began to radiate with a long-buried power.

All the while as Team Azula stared on in unbridled fascination as they all watched the mysterious tree emit a blinding light in the skies above them.

"So that's it…her power comes from the tree…" The princess muttered in a stunned voice with her golden eyes staring up in uncharacteristic fascination.

"Under normal circumstances no but not if I use my trump card!" The sage shouted with her staff now humming with magical power while the artist gazed back in disbelief.

And then with every fiber of her being she raised her staff above her head as its power began to shoot out all around her.

While the princess's group stared on in a speechless silence.

All the while as Zoe and Azula watched with their eyes agape in wonderment as turned to stare up at the pulsating tree.

Just as a crimson barrier swept out into the air while they watched with surprised eyes as it encircled the ancient tree once more.

And then not a second later the artist gazed down at her ghostly white hand with her blue eyes widening in realization.

And then she felt a jolt of pain travel throughout her body.

"What…did you do?" Silah asked in a baffled voice while she turned to stare into her old friend's eyes as Mava lowered her staff.

"I enacted a stronger barrier than the one you destroyed. I don't have the power to chase you. But if you do not leave this barrier you will die." Mava replied in a firm voice with her words causing the others to stare on in shock.

Before the artist found herself being pushed back by the ethereal barrier while she stared on with her blue eyes wide in incredulity.

"U-unbelievable! She truly is everything that the stories say!" Nako exclaimed in awe with her golden eyes staring on in bewilderment.

"Amazing…" Zoe breathed with an arm over her face while she watched Silah start to slide backwards in the erupting barrier.

'The pressure of her barrier can kill…her enemies?' Azula thought as she stared up in awe while her masked enemy seethed as she pushed back against the barrier.

"You…cannot push me out Mava!" The puppeteer yelled as she slammed her fists into the barrier while its energy crackled over her squinting blue eyes.

"Oh, but I can! Now tell me what you know of the enemy forces! Has Vega begun her march!" The sage hollered with her hand trembling upon her staff while her once friend stared back with cruel blue eyes.

While the four highborn women listened with their eyes wide in alarm having recalled the name from the mystic flames!

"I will tell you what I know! If you surrender my harvest! I will tell you where you shall meet your doom! I will even let the nonbenders live! But first you must take down your barrier!" Silah yelled out with her mask starting to crack under the power of the barrier while the benders in question bristled in paranoia.

"I am not your harvest! I am the Princess of the Fire Nation and I am going to butcher you!" The princess roared in a terrifying voice with her childhood friends shuddering behind her.

They weren't sure who was more frightening…Azula or Silah.

"My thoughts exactly princess." The captain stated in a low voice that promised great pain while she glared at the puppeteer's eroding mask.

"Poisonous words! You would kill us all anyway!" Mava retorted with anger in her frustrated voice while she watched her former friend release a howl of pain.

"Give me the Component!" The puppeteer snapped with the hooded puppet bracing her body from behind while the highborn women glared venomously back at her.

"Never!" The sage howled in a panting voice as the others gazed at her back in concern.

Just as a spark of energy flared into the tense air while the artist was sent sliding back on her slipping feet.

"Give her to me!" Silah repeated in a malicious voice as she clutched desperately to the barrier.

"I am sorry that it has to be this way! But the Silah that I knew is dead! And you leave me no choice!" Mava called out as she clutched her staff while her old friend's furious blue eyes met her gaze.

And then just like that Silah and her puppets were sent hurtling through the barrier while the artist's shouts echoed throughout the air.

"Mava!" The puppeteer protested in defiance as her mask split down the middle while her eyes trembled in bloodlust.

Only for a thick stream of azure fire to smash into her chest while she rapidly glanced up into the princess's merciless eyes.

Azula pursed her lips into a cruel sneer while she gazed down into her attacker's delightfully aggravated eyes.

And then mere seconds after that an explosion of blue fire and red energy sent the artist soaring through the combusting rocks.

While the group gazed out in a disbelieving fascination as they watched their demented new enemy plunge through the air below.

And then there was a speechless silence followed as they all gazed in wonderment at the exhausted sage's panting back.

While a new barrier now glowed majestically around the ancient tree in the sky above them!

"Is…she actually gone?" Mai asked at long last while she stared on in still present shock.

"How…did you do that?" The captain questioned in a speechless voice as she turned to stare at the old woman with great respect in her eyes.

Just as Azula lowered her hand while she also turned to survey the sage with her callous eyes conveying a little more respect than before.

"Yes. I was wondering that myself hag." The princess spoke up in her usual strict voice just as the acrobat slapped her shoulder.

"Azula would it kill you to be respectful to your elders?" Ty Lee chided as she stood up on her good heel while Azula rolled her haughty eyes at her.

"I am the sovereign of this nation and I will do as I please Ty Lee." Azula huffed as she sheathed her katana at her hip.

"There…is no time to answer that. I must finish the ritual. It…is not meant to be interrupted." The sage responded as she turned to hobble back towards the sleeping teenager's side while all but Jiao turned to gaze down at the girl in concern.

"And what exactly may I ask happens when its interrupted?" The princess demanded in a possessive voice as she stomped up behind the old crone.

"If Elle stays in a hyper induced meditative state for too long… there is risk of her presence being detected by a malevolent spirit. That is why I sent you four along to accompany her." Mava answered as she came to a stop over the unconscious blonde while the group spun around in alarm.

"What! And you didn't tell think to tell us this beforehand!" Azula snarled with her mighty fists blazing in blue fire while she smacked her lips together in a seething thin line.

Just as the crone reeled around to glare up at the younger woman's overprotective face with glazed golden eyes.

"You should consider yourself fortunate brat! I withdrew your minds sooner than anticipated when I sensed Silah encroaching upon the Sentinel Tree! Had I not done so you would have been as defenseless as a newborn infant!" The sage barked as she prodded the princess's stomach with her stick while golden eyes seethed down at her.

"Finish your ritual old woman. And know that any harm that comes to my servant will be repaid to you tenfold." The princess commanded in a callous voice as she folded her arms over her breasts while she fixed the sage with a nasty glare.

"She's…she's going to be okay, though right?" The brown-haired woman asked while gazing down in worry at the younger girl's unmoving face.

"Calm yourself. The girl will be fine." Mava assured as knelt down with visible discomfort while the group stared on in a bated silence.

"Are we actually safe from that lunatic?" Jiao queried in a rightfully shaken voice while she glanced around with paranoid blue eyes.

It was a question that everyone on the princess's team had been pondering.

"For the time being yes. Until you leave the Forgetful Valley that is. Then Silah will resume her hunt." The sage replied with her words causing everyone to stare on with varying levels of trepidation in their eyes.

It was absolutely insane to think of the sheer terror that they just went through in the caves below.

And know that they may well find themselves repeating it again someday soon!

"Joy. Something to look forward to." The markswoman muttered in a monotone voice with fear still present in her tawny eyes.

"N-no kidding. I was hoping that I would never see her again." The royal pilot stated in a still distraught voice while several of her fellows offered her a pitying look.

"Let her stalk me. The next time will be her last." Azula sneered in a pompous voice as she stared down at her handmaiden with callous golden eyes.

Now that she knows that she has information on the functionality of Silah's puppets…

The disgusting commoner won't have the element of surprise on her side in their next encounter.

"I can't say I disagree. I am not one to shy away from an opponent…I've seen a great deal in my days of military service. But never anything near as revolting as that." Saro remarked with a slight shudder as he stood beside his contemplating captain.

Just as Zoe turned to her comrades with her hazel eyes once more taking on her trademark focused gleam.

"No. No, she will not. This battle is not over. As soon as young Elle is concluded here, I am going to hunt her down and finish what we started in the cavern." Zoe announced in a razor-sharp voice with her words causing the others to gaze at her in surprise.

While Azula now glanced over her armored shoulder with her stony golden eyes conveying approval of her subordinate's words.

Her warrior truly was indispensable.

There were many benefits to having a soldier that stood as her equal who could be trusted to hunt down her enemies when she was unable to do so herself.

"Whether you do or do not is none of my concern. Regardless of whether if you win or lose against Silah. The only reason I intervened was to ensure that the Component was at least able to defend herself in the event that you lot fell in battle." Mava commented bluntly as she set her staff down while the others gazed at her in a shaken silence.

While the princess now spun around with her golden gaze brimming in anger once more over the old woman's stunning words.

"You…don't care if your Crown Princess falls in battle?" The princess hissed out with ire seeping through her regal voice while her friends gazed on uncertainly behind her.

Before the crone turned back to gaze in the proximity of her direction with her wrinkled face meeting her furious stare.

"I may not care much for the Avatar but that does not make us allies. You are only here because you are with the Component. It is pure circumstance that I am aiding you at the moment. My one goal…my only goal is to see the Component's mission to completion. My loyalty is not to the Royal Family. It is to the Earth itself." The sage answered in a matter of fact voice while the princess's golden eyes shook in offense.

All the while the others stood in a state of quiet gazing at the mysterious old woman in a mixture of bewilderment and unease.

"If the situation was reversed…and the Avatar was fighting beside you. And the Component beside your brother. I would aid your brother in place of you and do all that I could to remove you from the throne." Mava explained in a curt voice while Azula's eyes now boiled over in bubbling fury.

"You admit that you would plot treason against your Crown Princess? Consider yourself fortuitous that I need you. If not, I would tear your tongue out for your continued disrespect." Azula spoke in a positively ruthless voice with her hardened eyes staring down at the old woman in judgement.

While her childhood friends sighed behind her.

"Do we really have to do this right now Azula?" Ty Lee asked in a soft voice while Azula's lips pursed into a tight thin line.

"You want my respect?" The sage pondered in turn while the princess glared down at her.

"I don't want it. I demand it." The princess quipped in a hubristic voice while even her captain sighed under her breath.

And the seductress even rolled her eyes outside of the royal woman's line of vision.

"You are a slaver. Your father is a slaver. And I do not respect slavers. You have a long way to go if you want my respect." Mava stated in an unyielding voice with her words causing the group to stare at her in an unsettled silence.

While Azula's proud golden eyes once more shook in her royal fury as she exhaled a carefully controlled flame through her nostrils.

All the while as the two noblewomen stared at the princess's tense back with pointed expressions in their ashamed eyes.

"She…has a point Azula. You can't lie to Elle forever. Maybe you should consider liberation after you become Fire Lord. It's…it's what Elle…would want." The brown-haired woman advised in a quiet voice only to find herself flinching when the princess turned to glare at her from over her shoulder.

But before the prideful princess could snap out a response.

Her attention was regained when she saw the old woman lower her aged hand over her young love's innocent face.

"It is time to complete the process Elle. But I need you to listen to me closely." The sage spoke with her aged hand hovering over the teenager's forehead while the others stared on in growing fascination.

While the princess's cold gaze never once left the blonde's dozing face as she observed with a look of profound protectiveness in her eyes.

All while finding herself unable to suppress her grudging intrigue over the nature of her servant's unknown enemy.

'If the old woman believes our nation to be evil and the Avatar just…what manner of enemy could possibly prompt her to aid me against the Avatar?' The princess thought with her intelligent eyes flickering in ever rising curiosity while she held a flawless fingernail under her chin.

"The Avatar Cycle must fall at all costs. It is an unnatural blight upon this world. The time has come for it to come to an end." Mava stated in an enigmatic voice with her hand taking on an ethereal glow while the group listened in bewilderment.

And the captain exchanged a momentary look with her princess before she glanced back down.

Unnatural.

Blight.

Those were strong words to describe the Avatar.

"Why is it unnatural?" The brown-haired woman pondered in a taken aback voice while she gazed on with spellbound brown-gray eyes.

"It is a state of forced peace. It is better to endure a century of tyranny from a human tyrant such as Azula or her father that will fade to the winds of time just like the rest of us. Then tens of thousands of years of false peace by false balance." The sage declared in a conclusive voice while her audience gazed on in astonishment.

It was impossible not to be puzzled by the old woman's words.

She almost made it sound as if the Avatar was a greater tyrant than Azula or her father!

While the princess's crimson lips now curved into the barest hint of a smug smirk.

"So, my conquest is for the good of the world. Well then. I will not rest until I dominate this entire planet." Azula purred in a gratified voice with an elegant hand under her chin while her childhood friends shivered behind her.

Indeed.

This was working out wonderfully in her favor.

'Elle is my pet and she obeys me and me alone. We will destroy the Avatar together and then we will crush all who stand in our way. And then…I shall take my rightful seat as the ruler of this world with Elle right where she belongs…at the foot of my throne.' The princess thought as she smiled with a lovely fingernail now twirling subconsciously in her hair.

While she found herself unable to resist the tiny sliver of a blush from developing upon her regal cheeks.

Only to shake her head quickly not a moment later with her full lips pursing into a proud scowl once more.

Now was not the time for such distracting thoughts.

Right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand.

And that was watching over her little peasant.

"Now Elle…it is time that we brought out the potential from deep within." Mava commented with her glowing hand now resting upon the young girl's forehead while the others gazed on in a transfixed silence.

Just as a faint light shone into the air while the princess's forces found themselves unable to look away.

And then Elle's youthful face lit up with a magical glow while her silent friends stood crowding around her in wonderment.

While inside the teenager's mind scape…

Elle's amber eyes were still brewing with tears after witnessing the deaths of both of her parents as well as the secret behind her mother's power.

Only for her awestruck eyes to widen when a bright light flashed before her stunned eyes.

As she covered her face with her elbows only to gaze out from underneath them in amazement to find that she was now floating through some kind of astral plane.

Her mouth dropped ajar in the shape of an o while she now gazed all around her in rapidly rising marvelment.

"Where…where am I?" The blonde-haired girl pondered in a bewildered voice as she bit her lip while she turned to glance over her shoulder in astonishment.

While her wide eyes stared on ahead as she heard the old sage's voice suddenly flow all around her.

"Now Elle…it is time that we brought out the potential from deep within." The sage spoke into the teenager's awed ears.

"B-but how do I bring out my potential?" Elle asked in a voice that was brimming with wonder only to find herself crying out in surprise as she was suddenly plunged through the depths of the vast void.

All the while as her innocent amber eyes grew even wider as luminous light blinded her eyes once more.

"You have a great purpose Elle Turner." Mava called out as Elle gazed out with confuddled eyes from underneath her sleeves.

"I-I still don't understand wise sage? What exactly is my purpose?" The blonde-haired girl inquired in a lost voice as she gulped while she fell through the seemingly endless void.

Only to find herself gazing on in amazement when visions began to rapidly flash before her disbelieving amber eyes.

Just as her mouth opened up in awe when a long line of apparitions appeared for as far as her eyes could see.

Their eyes were glowing a ghostly white that was once more sending a chill down her spine.

'What is it about those eyes that makes me feel so unsettled?' Elle thought as she swallowed nervously with her amber eyes agape in contemplation.

"The Avatar Cycle is an unnatural force that should not be." The sage stated in the young girl's ears while Elle's spellbound eyes gazed at the faces of all of the past Avatars.

"W-why shouldn't it be wise sage?" The blonde-haired girl stammered with great confusion lacing her voice while she floated through the astral plane.

While her wide eyes watched with growing unease when the phantom faces began to encircle her on all sides.

She floated backwards with her feet seemingly free falling through the endless void while a shiver began to travel down her spine.

"The Avatar is a perpetually reincarnating being that has been misdirecting the fate of humanity for ten thousand years. In order for humanity to grow the Avatar Cycle must cease to be." Mava lectured all around the teenager while Elle gazed on with stunned amber eyes.

"A perpetual force…than hinders human development…" Elle mumbled in an attentive voice with her hair blowing in her eyes while she stared on in astonishment.

"But the true threat young Component…is what dwells beyond the Avatar." The sage informed with her aged voice flowing through the air while the handmaid shook as the past Avatars surrounded her from every angle.

"W-what dwells beyond the Avatar?" The blonde-haired girl questioned in an increasingly frightened voice as she stared back at the ghostly faces of the phantoms that were enclosing around her.

She truly wished that her princess and her big sisters were hear to stand beside her.

But she knew that Azula-sama would want her to be strong.

And therefore, she resolved herself to do her best so that she can return to her princess once more.

And just like that she gazed on in rising wonderment when the astral plane flashed before her widened eyes.

Just as more specters flickered before her while she stared on with speechless awe.

And then a face from the mystic flames before her eyes once more.

It was the shadowed image of the third person from the flames that the sage told her would cause her great pain.

It was…the woman called Vega.

Haunting golden eyes now seemed to be staring right back into her own while she gulped as she floated backwards in fright.

And if she didn't know any better the woman's lips almost seemed to be curving into a horrible smile!

And then just as quickly as Vega had come, she vanished within seconds while another specter took shape before the handmaiden's frightened amber eyes.

Just as Elle staggered back with her paling hands falling to her hips while her widened eyes stared back on when she watched a pair of large wings form in the distance.

While the face of a terrifying creature with a half dragons helm covering its ghostly head now manifested before her.

All the while as two great horns now protruded from the back of the monster's helm while crimson eyes stared back into her quivering soul.

And then not a moment later she let out a scream of fright with her eyes growing to the size of dinner plates as she gazed back at the winged beast.

Only for her amber eyes to stare on in terror when the monster vanished into thin air.

Just before she suddenly felt as if she was falling once more while her hair blew wildly in her terrified eyes.

And then she saw it!

Something just as hideous lurking in the depths of the dark void!

Much of it she was unable to make out.

But the one detail that she could see clearly was a large inhuman eye!

"The Primordial One…that is what awaits beyond the Avatar." Mava responded in a mysterious voice while Elle cried out into the depths of the abyss.

"P-please take me out of here sage! I don't want to be here anymore!" Elle pleaded in a terrified voice as she plunged through the astral plane while she cowered under the gaze of the horrifying eye.

"Look deep within yourself young Component and bring out the power within." The sage advised in a mystical voice while the teenager fell through the air with her eyes wide in panic.

"B-bring out the power within?" The blonde-haired girl repeated in a dumbfounded voice as she trembled under the stare of the penetrating eye.

"Indeed, my child. And once you do…you must cut the veil that lies beyond the Avatar." Mava answered in a gruff voice while Elle fell with her amber eyes agape in wonderment.

"C-cut…the veil?" Elle stuttered with her golden hair blowing about in her awestruck amber eyes.

"The lives of your friends…your princess and everyone that you care about depend on it." The sage spoke in a wise voice while the young girl dropped through the void with her mouth hanging open in tremendous emotion.

"Nako…Zoe…Mai…Ty Lee…and Azula-sama's lives…depend on it." The blonde-haired girl murmured in a devoted voice with great emotion flashing in her amber eyes.

"Do it for them Elle…do it for your friends." Mava concluded in a grave voice while Elle's blonde hair blew before her emoting amber eyes.

"For…my friends…for my family…" Elle trailed off in a sentimental voice as she spiraled through the void with her amber eyes reflecting her loyalty to her adopted family.

And more than anything else…

Her undying allegiance to the Princess of the Fire Nation!

'I…won't let you down Azula-sama…' The blonde-haired girl thought with her hands falling at her sides while she gazed up into the seemingly endless depths of the astral plane.

And then her wide amber eyes gazed up at the ominous eye once more while a shudder ran down her spine.

Before she resolved herself with her fists clenched at her hips while her hair blew in her motivated eyes.

"I…will do it for them…for Azula-sama." Elle whispered with indescribable loyalty shimmering in her amber eyes while she fell through the air.

And not a second later a beam of white light erupted forth from her falling spirit while she gazed up with transfixed amber eyes.

And then just like that a powerful chi exploded into the depths of the astral plane!

Aang abruptly sat up from his spot on the deck of the ship with his gray eyes gazing on in alarm while a chill now ran down his spine.

While Zuko and Sokka turned to gaze at him from where they leaned on the rails in concern to see the startled expression in the Avatar's eyes.

"Something wrong Aang?" Sokka asked in a wary voice with his blue eyes on in poorly hidden worry while Aang turned to gaze at them in a panic.

"That girl Elle! I can sense her presence in the Spirit World!" Aang exclaimed with Momo perched on his shoulder while the two gazed at him in alarm.

"She's…in the Spirit World?" Zuko questioned in returning dread with a pale expression in his golden eyes.

"Yes!" The Avatar answered in an equally unnerved voice while his friends stood in an unsettled silence behind him.

"Can things possibly get any worse than this!" The tactician shouted in a dreadfully dismayed voice while the firebender shuddered beside him.

Only to receive no answer from Aang when they watched the monk slip back into meditation once more.

All the while as Zuko gazed on with horror in his wide golden eyes.

'This girl has the power to travel into the Spirit World and distort it according to her will! And she serves Azula!' The former prince thought with terror like never before brewing in his eyes while his hands fell to his sides.

By no means could he abide by the deaths of his loyal countrymen.

There was also no way that he could accept ever allowing Azula to stay in possession of such a terrible power!

Unspeakable conflict now flashed in Zuko's golden eyes while he stared out into the crashing waves with his fists balled up at his hips.

There must be some way that they can stop his sister without spilling further Fire Nation blood.

But how? That he did not know.

And then mere moments later…

The Avatar dropped through the dense void of the astral plane with his widened gray eyes making out a falling shape in the distance ahead of him.

He gazed in alarm at the girl's plummeting body just as a bright aura exploded from her spirit!

And without even giving it any further thought he propelled himself through the air while his shouts now echoed into the air.

Just as Elle turned to gaze at him through the corner of her surprised eye while her eyes widened in realization.

"Elle, I need to talk to you! Please! I beg of you! Hear me out! Azula is not who you think she is!" Aang yelled as he fell through the void with his clothes blowing in the wind while the young girl fell across from him.

The Avatar and the Component dropped through the Spirit World several feet apart from one another while they gazed back into each other's eyes.

"You can't turn me against Azula-sama Avatar! I will not betray her! She's my home!" Elle cried out with profound emotion in her loyal amber eyes while Aang stared back in utter bewilderment.

And then they fell through a mystical cloud.

While the alarmed Avatar floated opposite from her with his startled gray eyes never once leaving her face.

Just before they felt their spirits start to pull back into their physical bodies.

And in seconds their spirits began to fade from the astral plane while the distressed monk yelled out to her once again.

"Elle!" The Avatar shouted with his evaporating hand making a futile effort to grasp ahold of the vanishing girl.

Only for his fingers to slip right through the teenager's arm while her emotional amber eyes gazed up at him for one final time.

Before the two of them disappeared from the Spirit World and reemerged back into their bodies once more!

Team Azula gazed on in a speechless silence when an explosion of chi erupted from their young friend's body.

While Naoki watched from high above with her brown eyes widening in comprehension as the girl's chi exploded into the air.

'I knew it Elle! I was right all along! You have…it!' The scarlet-haired girl thought with her machinelike eyes observing the release of the younger girl's chi.

As the bright light flooded before their awestruck eyes while the old sage still held her wrinkled hand over the teenager's forehead.

While the mouths of the highborn women dropped open in disbelief.

Azula and Zoe gaped at the scene with uncharacteristic amazement in their eyes as they studied the chi bursting forth before them.

While Mai and Ty Lee stood rooted to their spots with their eyes wide in amazement.

And the others too found themselves unable to look away from the astonishing sight.

Just before Elle's amber eyes abruptly snapped wide open.

And then she sprang up from the floor while her friends stood over her in a stunned silence.

#Azula #Avatar The Last Airbender #yuri #ty lee avatar #mai avatar

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wittystiles · 7 years ago

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Blame || Mitch Rapp

Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader (y/n)

Description: A mission takes a terrible turn, and this is the outcome. Aka: Mitch is terrible at giving bad news.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of blood. Angst, I suppose?, Death.

A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my very first fic ever written for Mitch/this blog and I am very nervous to share it. I hope you enjoy it, and your feedback would be greatly appreciated. Also, I am open to taking requests, should you have any! (-:

Your fingers danced in the water pouring from the spout of the bathtub, waiting for the water to heat up enough for you to switch it over to the shower head. You felt like it was taking forever, slowly winding its way through the pipes of the presumably old hotel with less gusto than even you could muster right now. Just as you were about to resign yourself to a cold shower the temperature picked up and you fiddled with the knob for a second before pulling the little stopper. The shower head kicked on, sputtering before thin steady streams began pounding against the floor of the tub.

With a grimace you tugged the tattered remains of your black henley over your head, dropping it into the sink with a wet splosh. You were soaked, head to toe, in various liquids. Rain. Blood, some yours some others. Sewer water, good for your cuts you imagined. Gasoline. And maybe a few of your own tears were straggling on your cheeks. In all, you felt disgusting.

Your jeans were next. The button fought with you for a second before popping free, the zipper sliding down easily. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband and pushed then down your legs, your underwear hitching a ride as well. Adding them to the sink with your shirt, you half thought about how to get rid of them. That’s a problem for later me, you concluded while unhooking your bra. It joined your other clothes, looking the most prestine. You wondered how.

You didn’t risk looking at yourself in the mirror above the sink. Couldn’t face how battered you must have been. If the throbbing in all of your body was any indication, you’d look like a dalmation tomorrow with all of your cuts, bruises and scrapes.

When the warm water of the shower hit your body, it took everything in you not to whimper. You hurt. Really hurt. Not just physically, though that was the most demanding at the moment. Your heart was also aching, tears trying to fall at any given second. You’d watched a new requite die beside you, and it had shaken you, for whatever reason. He’d perished before the mission even really got under way. It was odd for that to happen. It threw you off.

You felt stupid. You’d been on plenty of missions before, dozens upon dozens. But this one. This one mission was the worst you’d ever been on. You felt like all of your training had been removed from you. Like you had forgotten it all in an instant. You were making so many mistakes, fumbling every move, every counter attack.

You watched the water swirl around your feet as it flowed down your body, thumping against your tense back. The color of it was a dark red, indicative of the dried blood and dirt clinging to your battered skin. You turned your body around, keeping your head ducked so your face wasn’t being assaulted by the water. You could feel a nasty welt on your cheek bone from a particularly sour contact with someone’s fist and you didn’t need it being aggravated.

You stayed, ducked under the stream, for what felt like years. Your breathing was steady but you could still feel your heart whapping against your ribs with the remains of adrenaline. You wondered absently if it shouldn’t have been snuffed out by now.

Before you lost the last little bit of your energy you decided to do an examination of your injuries. You were bruised, which you had already known would be the case. Angry purple splotches had formed on nearly every part of your body. With a scoff you muttered, “I’m gonna look like fucking Barney tomorrow.”

You had a few cuts as well. The worst of them was along your hip, not deep enough to be a risk, but it still hurt like a bitch. You couldn’t decide if it would need to be stitched or not. You examined another cut on your left forearm, noting that it would only need to be cleaned out and wrapped.

You hadn’t suffered any gunshots, nor any stabs, and you couldn’t consider yourself luckier. Not that you’d escaped so seemingly unscathed by your own prowess and combative skills. No. You knew exactly who you had to thank for your life at this current moment.

Stepping out of the shower you loosely wrapped a towel around yourself, tucking it so that it wouldn’t fall off. Your hair hung in wet tendrils around your face, which you made quick work of tying in a wrapped bun on top of your head, secured tightly with a rubber band.

Opening the bathroom door, you were startled to see Mitch standing in front of the mirror hung on the wall. His hair was wet from the rain, and sticking to his head like a helmet, the ends curling as they were beginning to dry. His shirt was off, you noticed it discarded at his feet, and he was fiddling with a piece of gauze.

Cautiously you approached him, hoping he had heard the bathroom door or seen you in the mirror. Since he’d ordered you to leave back in the sewers, you weren’t sure you should be particularly forward or friendly with him.

You placed your hand on his shoulder blade as gently as you could, making sure to keep your voice soft when you spoke. “Would you like some help?” You asked.

“No,” he snapped. He shifted his shoulder forward to give you the hint to remove your hand. You did.

You could practically see the emotions written on his face when you caught a glimpse of it in the mirror. As much as he tried being a stone, he wasn’t very good at it.

“Did you clean that?” You indicated the wound to his right side. It was nearly 4 inches in length, and looked like it was extremely painful. You noticed his jaw clench before he spoke, “of course I cleaned it. I’m not a fucking idiot, y/n.”

You recoiled from him completely at this point, making a point to walk to your suitcase rather than stand behind him. “I never thought you were, Mitch,” you said in defense while searching for a pair of underwear. You tugged them on before continuing. “I was just asking you. I was going to offer to clean it for you if you hadn’t.”

“I already said I don’t need help,” he reminded you. You sighed, pulling on a pair of black stretch pants from your suitcase and a spaghetti strap tanktop that had been bleached stained when you had to dye your hair for a mission a few months prior.

Mitch got the gauze taped over his wound before turning to look at you. “I’ve honestly got nothing I want to say to you right now, y/n. And I certainly don’t want you trying to be nice to me, or offering to help. Just, leave me the hell alone.”

You bit on your bottom lip. Sure, you’d been trained to kill, but that didn’t mean your emotions had been stripped from you.

“No.” You said flatly.

Mitch’s eyes narrowed into an intimidating glare. “Excuse me?”

“I said,” you cleared your throat. “I said ‘no’, Mitch. I’m not going to leave you alone, and I’m not going to stop trying to be nice to you. Regardless of what went down tonight, we’re still partners. You can disregard me as a confidant, as a friend, as a lover, as anything else. But you can’t deny that we are in this together, until this mission is completed.”

Mitch balled his hands into fists, speaking through a clenched jaw, “This mission is over.” You raises an eyebrow at this statement, sitting down on the bed, becoming once more aware of the cut on your hip.

“What do you mean the mission is over?” You asked. You were well aware that you’d made some mistakes, and the opposition had gotten the upper hand on you, but. The mission hadn’t been lost, you didn’t think. When Mitch had yelled for you to return to the hotel, you had figured he just didn’t want you managing to fuck anything more up.

“I mean, it’s been terminated. Kennedy called it. After you left, I -” Mitch stopped mid sentence, shaking his head. He turned abruptly, punching the wall beside him, leaving a whole the size of his fist. You didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as blink. You were trained not to jump at sudden movements.

Mitch’s tape on his gauze bandage had come loose, the bloody swatch of gauze flopping over to reveal the wound which had since begun trickling blood. He didn’t seem to notice. After waiting a few breaths, you finally managed to speak. “You what, Mitch?”

He took a deep breath. “I diffused the situation that you had done nothing but make worse. Then I got in contact with her. Reported what happened.”

You swallowed hard. “What did you tell her?”

“Exactly what happened.” He said, completely cold. You remembered the fighting, the screaming, the knife that was coming straight for you before -

“What happened after I left, Mitch?” You tried, hoping to finish the narrative that seemed worse than you imagined.

Mitch shook his head, looking down at his knuckles. They were already scuffed from the hand to hand he had done earlier, but now the knuckles were split open. He flexed his fingers, making sure nothing was jammed. He was fine, you assumed.

“Mitch,” you pressed. “What happened?” If there was one thing Mitch was, that was stubborn. When he closed himself off, he was harder to pry open than a dog's mouth when they were hoarding a treat.

“Mitch!” You near shouted, anger and worry bubbling inside of you.

“Stan died.” He screamed at you, the vein in his neck bulging. “That’s what happened, y/n. Stan fucking died. I held him in my arms as, as -” He shook his head and you watched his eyes well up before he scrunched them shut.

Your heart began pounding, your throat instantly feeling dry. You took a moment before you could find your voice. “Mitch, he didn’t. This is cruel, even for you. Don’t - don’t lie about someone’s death you asshole.”

Mitch took a deep breath, “I’m not lying.” He found his way to the chair opposite the bed, sitting down in it heavily. “When he -” Mitch cleared his throat, struggling with his emotions. You sat closer to the edge of the bed, feeling weak.

“When he stopped Jackson - that was the name of the main antagonist as Irene called him, by the way. I learned that after digging his throat out with a blade. When he stopped Jackson from shooting you, he took the shot instead. It was silenced. You were busy with someone else. He didn’t notice the gunshot until after he’d managed to keep you from getting a knife to the spine. The forearm wound, the one you witnessed, that was practically a flesh wound. He would’ve been fine. God! He would have been /fine/, y/n. But-” Tears were freely rolling down your cheeks as you sat staring at Mitch who was visibly upset, gettig choked up on the story.

“The bullet - it must’ve punctured his lung somehow. It had to have.” Mitch was looking at his hand at this point, and you noted how distant his gaze looked. How far removed he seemed. He was back in the sewers where the majority of this incident had taken place.

“I watched him fall to his knees as I was finishing off that blonde that kept disappearing during the fight. He’d managed to knock Jackson, he was the last of them alive then, unconscious before dropping down. He was clutching at his chest and throat,” Mitch began picking at the fabric on the arm of the chair he was sat in. You pulled your feet up onto the bed, wrapping your arms around your legs to hold yourself.

“When I got to him, he couldn't speak. He couldn’t even breathe. Just kept making this wet gurgling noise. Blood was starting to leak from the corner of his mouth. I was trying to figure out how the fuck to help him. I had seen a way to release the blood from the lung with a pen, clear up the air way or whatever.” Mitch was tears at the fabric with his blunt nails and the tips of his fingers, his body tenser than before.

“I couldn’t remember it though. Couldn’t barely fucking think. I just, sat down next to him and tried to prop him up. Keep the blood from choking him completely. Wanted to try and clear his airways. It wasn’t working. He started coughing then, blood splattering out, covering his cheeks and mouth in red. It coated my chest…” You watched pieces of the foam from the arm of the chair float to the ground like snow. You would later wonder who have to pay for the damage Mitch caused.

He wiped his face with his other before continuing. “He gripped my shirt and I kept trying to reassure him things would be fine. Because that’s what people do right? That’s what people do. They sit there and tell people everything will be fine, and no one believes it. But they hope it makes them feel better. And God. I sat there and held my mentor, our mentor, up while he choked to death on his own fucking blood. Blood that was only in his lungs because of a fucking bullet he shouldn’t have taken.”

Mitch dragged his hand down his face again, inhaling sharply through his nose to clear it of mucus. “Stan died. He’s dead, and…” Mitch’s voice trailed off, bigger chunks of foam falling to the floor.

You let out a sob against your knees as you held them tighter against your chest, your arms constricting around your legs even more. You were still trying to tell yourself Mitch was lying.

That the man who you had been training and working under for roughly three years wasn’t dead. That he was just testing you again, that it was all in an effort to make you stronger. Tougher. More callous.

“Stop lying to me,” you sobbed. You were getting yourself more worked up. Your brain trying to decide whether to be crushed or angry. Deciphering if it was really the truth or a vicious lie.

Mitch snorted, shaking his head. A shiver ran down your spine when his nails scraped against the wood of the arm on the chair. “I’m not lying to you, y/n. Do you really think I would sit here and make this up? You’re disgusting if you really believe that.”

Your heart skipped a beat, tears pouring down your cheeks faster. “He can’t have died, Mitch. He was supposed to go peacefully, alone in that stupid fucking cabin. Not in some disgusting sewer in fucking Paris of all places!”

Mitch snorted, “I know. Don’t you think I thought that? Don’t you think that ran through my head as I watched him die. Listened to him fight for his last gurgling breath?”

You sniffles, shaking your head. “How could this have happened?”

“You.” Mitch said, simply. He had no emotion to his voice.

“Excuse me?” You asked, suppressing a hiccupping sob.

“You heard me,” Mitch said. He lifted his eyes to look at you. “You’re how this could have happened. You were a fucking fool out there. Useless. It was like you had never been in the field before in your life. A new born baby trying to fight her way out of a paper bag. You’re how.”

His voice was starting to sound a little more venomous as he spoke.

“It wasn’t my fucking fault!” You near shrieked, letting your legs go. “Stan knew what he was doing!”

“It was you.” Mitch said again.

“No! God, I don’t know. I don’t know what Stan was thinking. How could he be so carele-” Mitch cut you off with a deep voiced shout. “Stop!” He sat forward in his armchair, glaring at you. “Don’t you go trying to say Stan was responsible for his own death. He took a bullet to keep it from hitting you. To keep you from undoubtedly dying in that sewer instead of him.”

He stood from the chair then, trying in vain to fix the bandage he had just remembered was there. “Stan is dead, and it’s because of you. Stan is dead, and it’s all your fucking fault!” He sounded vicious as he spoke, his voice like knives skinning you.

“Mitch! Please stop,” You begged.

He rest his hands on his hips, having given up on the bandage. “No! You need to hear this, y/n! You need to know that the only reason Stan died is because of /you/. Because you’re careless, and reckless, and you shouldn’t be in the fucking field. You should pack your shit up, tell Irene you resign, and get fucking lost. Somewhere far away.”

Your heart, which was filled to the brim with sadness from the discovery of the loss of your father figure, now thrummed with a vein of anger.

“Mitch Rapp, I will not fucking tolerate you talking to me like that! We are in this together! It isn’t my fault that Stan died! Stop treating me like this!” He watched you with a cold stare. “You’re hurt! I know that! But you’re not the only one who just lost Stan, Mitch! You’re not the only one who has a monopoly on loss and sadness.”

Mitch set his jaw, balling his fists again. “In this instance, I am. The person who caused someone’s death doesn’t get to be sad about losing them!”

“I’m not the reason Stan’s dead!” You screamed, breathing heavily. “I’m as much the reason for Stan’s death as you are for Katrina’s!”

The moment her name left your lips you knew you’d gone too far. In the year and a half you’d been Mitch’s partner (per Stan pairing you up), you’d never once uttered her name. You knew she was off limits, even on a particularly good day for Mitch. You could nearly see the hurt and anger rolling off of him on waves.

Mitch snatched a shirt from his suitcase, yanked it on, and quickly stuffed his pockets with his important things. He didn’t even look at you as he did so.

“Mitch,” you whispered. “Mitch, I’m sorry.” You said a bit louder.

Nothing.

“Mitch! I’m sorry! I’m just… I’m overwhelmed and I didn’t mean that… I’m so sorry. Please, what’re you doing?”

Mitch walked towards the door. “I’m leaving.” His voice sounded almost clinical. “I’m not about to have you be the cause of my death too. Stan was enough.”

You watched Mitch pull the door open, and kept your eyes trained on the spot he left out of, even after the door had shut. ** It took nearly three weeks for the CIA to clear the funeral for Stan Hurley. Irene had called you herself to tell you the date.

You could barely get out of bed. You felt as if your world impolded. You’d lost your mentor, someone you’d spent such a grueling part of your life with. You’d lost your partner, the man you shared more aspects of your life with than you thought you could. You lost your nerve, feeling you’d never be able to go on a mission again. And now. Now you were faced with the reality of everything. Stan’s funeral would make everything feel real. Feel concrete. You couldn’t force yourself to pretend it was all some big, elaborate, terrible lie. *

You arrived to the funeral location early, hoping to be able to pay your respects and leave before anyone else showed up.

Who else would show up though, you thought to yourself. Stan wasn’t married. Had no children. And most of his trainees were either murdered or wouldn’t risk showing up here. You were busying yourself with smoothing out your dress when out of the corner of your eye you saw movement in one of the pews.

You stood up straight, reaching for the gun on your thigh holster, when you processed the movement as a person. And then quickly who that person was.

“Mitch,” you whispered.

He turned his head, noticing you for the first time since you arrived.

“Hello, y/n.” Mitch said. He sounded formal, like he was greeting a college professor and not someone he’d spent the better part of a year sharing his bed with.

“It’s nice to see you again.” You said softly, sitting down in the pew on the other side of the church as the row he was sat in.

“Likewise.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a moment before standing up. “I’m just. Going to say my goodbyes to Stan, and then I’ll leave…” You said, motioning to the casket.

Mitch nodded and watched you walk for a few seconds before speaking. “I’m sorry, by the way. For saying it was your fault. Stan’s death, that is. I was hurt, and I was blaming you. And I’m sorry.”

You stopped, turning to look at him with shock. “Oh… I uh…” You cleared your throat. “Thank you, for saying that. And again, I’m sorry for what I said to you that night.”

Mitch shrugged, “you’re forgiven.” You gave him a soft smile. “Would you walk up with me? I don’t want to see him alone.” Mitch nodded, standing from his seat on the pew. He joined you, taking your hand in his, before the two of you made the rest of the walk to the open casket. You peered in, tears flooding your eyes immediately as you looked down at Stan. Your hand tightened around Mitch’s. The world around you froze.

You’d seen hundreds of dead bodies before, but none like this. None that affected you this deeply. Your cheeks became damp as you spoke.

“Thank you, Stan. Your guidance has changed my life in every way imaginable, and I owe you the world. Thank you for teaching me, nurturing me in your tough love kind of way, and for saving my life. I’ll never be able to repay you, and I’ll never stop being grateful to you. I love you, Stan Hurley.” You sobbed, clearing your throat a bit. “May I see you again. Goodbye, Sir.”

Mitch squeezed your hand when you stopped speaking, looking down at Mitch. He pulled something out of his pocket, and placed it on Stan’s chest. “Goodbye, Sir.” Mitch said, sounding emotional.

The two of you stood before Stan’s casket for a moment longer before turning and walking out of the church hand in hand.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp imagine #dylan o'brien #sams work #sams post #sams fic #sam writes #mitch rapp fanfic #american assassin fic #mitch rapp oneshot #mitch rapp one shot #mitch rapp fic #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien fic #dylan obrien imagine #mitch rapp x reader

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phthalology · 7 years ago

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HZD: Winter’s Bargain Chapter 3

Read here on AO3

This fic is becoming a jigsaw puzzle of a project, so the posted chapter numbers may change, but not likely by much. This also seems like a decent time to say thank you to the people who have reblogged or commented so far. Especially in a small ship in a small fandom like this, comments can make a big difference.

Marad had suspected. The Eclipse had been scattered, its leadership slain in front of Avad’s eyes. Those people still held their grudges, though, as Dervahl had done. Some, with efforts at restitution, could be bought back into the Carja proper as quiet citizens who could live their lives, tilling their ground and nurturing their children or their village’s children. Recovery was a steep hill, but one that could be climbed.

Others would not turn aside from the mission they had been told was holy. Marad sighed, lifted his hand against his forehead to shield his eyes and steel his nerves as he stood at one of the golden railings near Avad’s canopied throne. He had foiled eight assassination attempts in the parlor stage in the last year, eight people or groups of people who had wanted to see Avad’s young blood on the golden floor. Marad’s agents had ensured those plans never got past the parlor, never got past drunken boasts. When people were guided home and the bottle eased from their hands, a knife held to their throat or an embarrassing secret whispered in their ear, that attempted revolutionary would go to sleep into nightmare and wake up sick and ashamed of jumping at shadows. Most political furies could be eased this way, with the right pressure point of embarrassment and threat.

Avad did not carry out the threats, of course. Avad’s anger was patrilineal and sated. That was a valued trait in a ruler, true sanguinity and true kindness. Marad was fond of Avad for it.

This was why Avad gave the spy work to Marad and his agents. This was one of the reasons Avad chose not to hear every record of Marad’s work.

Another reason: it helped the king sleep.

Aloy’s return had spooked the dissidents. While not many were left after the attack on the Spire had torn up everyone’s carefully planted plans, Marad had been beginning to see new signs of anger. He was not yet certain whether they had come from a central source, an idea person, or whether they were working on their own. They could even be newly adult hunters, flush with too much energy and not enough work in the fertile maizelands. Whoever they were, Aloy would find them. The Sun shone gently onto him as Marad thought it, and his own mild religious devotion stirred vaguely godward and rolled back to sleep.

He just had to be sure that she did not become the claw of the Carja such that when she left — and she would — people perceived Avad as defenseless again. Her companion seemed savvy but harmless; Aloy had had to rescue him from falling off a cliff, Marad recalled. He shook his head and turned to go back into the halls at the center of the plateau, there to walk down to the library near the cliff’s edge. Aloy and Vanasha would reach the top of the hill soon.

The library in the palace at Meridian had not been sacked during the coup. This had been a matter of apathy, not choice: the Sun-Priests had burned and exalted other books in their day. Many were the scrolls that had burned in the city’s public braziers for the crime of mentioning the prowess of kings before Jiran. The king’s private library, inherited and redecorated by Avad and his advisors, had remained a sanctuary for older texts in which records of Meridian’s founding had been given the newly fashionable, more amicable political slant. Meridian’s expansionary wars were reframed as noble explorations under both regimes.

Sylens enjoyed the quietude of the place. Tightly rolled scrolls wrapped in neat ribbons sat in cubby holes made of wood stained red and bronze. Books were open to delicate drawings and detailed maps. Even the pieces in places of honor were not chained down. The library occupied a cool stone vault inside the plateau palace, and it would take just a day more of casing to figure out how to walk out with the best of its works.

Aloy moved ahead of him, following Vanasha, both of them loping along the neatly organized walls as comfortably as Aloy had moved in the maizelands. She touched her fingers to her Focus, holding the scan for just a heartbeat before marking off any reactive data for later. Vanasha did not seem to notice. They quickly outpaced Sylens and the Kestrels.

Avad, Marad, and Nasadi met Aloy at the other end of the room. Sylens had not seen Nasadi since Sunfall; the queen looked as if she had aged backwards, becoming more radiant and straight-backed after her captivity. She spread out a map across a table and began to weigh its edges with stones.

“This isn’t the first attack.” Avad, barely more than a boy-king, looked nervous. In the oppressive heat he acted as if he was cold, arms crossed and jaw tight. His gaze skimmed over Sylens, more concerned with Aloy and Vanasha. Good. Would it not be a nightmare to be recognized here? Sylens had travelled to the furthest outskirts of Carja territory and now stood here, back inside by some law of physics that demanded objects in circular flights stay in circles. If that track was interrupted, the forces released would be terrible.

If Bahavas or Helis were still alive and spotted him here, he could be executed on the spot … but he and Aloy had made sure that they were not.

Sylens kept half of his attention on Avad as the king explained that Eclipse marks had recently been found on gates, on masons’ stones, on wells poisoned by corpses of dead rabbits. Marad cautioned that it could be copycat work, an unsubtle attempt at mockery now that the wars were officially over, the Eclipse mostly scattered, and the rumors of the attack on the Spire running wild. Or perhaps it really was remnants of the Eclipse, shorn of their leaders, trying to rally around delinquency instead of or in advance of genocide.

Aloy, concerning herself more with logistics than motive, began to trace lines where machines had come from. Nasadi conferred with her about where traders or refugees entered the city, and Marad offered quick summaries of where people had been displaced after the fighting. Marad had been in Jiran’s court while Sylens was recruiting Bahavas, but he had not been a spymaster then. Bahavas had remembered him as a clever page, one whom Behaves had eyed as a potential for priesthood. Marad’s own inclinations had never lead him that way, though, and Bahavas had moved on to recruiting toughs and dead machines.

Aloy and Vanasha muttered at the war table in the corner. “A new break in the tree line here —“

“—not likely to come from the city if —“

“—searching around the waterfalls —“

Sylens examined the scrolls nearest to him. What could Meridian possibly have from before the attack that HADES itself did not? Had anyone measured how machines behaved around it? If the method of transmission could be understood in more detail … He had been inducted into some of the mysteries of spectrum, but some studies needed to be put aside because they did not involve the specific frequency through which the Focuses spoke to one another or, Sylens remembered with a chill, HADES spoke to its FARO Scarabs.

There was something in the cubby among the scrolls, a black machine claw like the tread of a Corruptor. Sylens glanced at the guards. He might pick it up just to see what they would do. How much did they know about what secrets this library might hold?

The claw was half way inside one of the shelves. Sylens reached in and slid it out without wrinkling the paper to either side.

Yes, this was something important. The guards reacted quickly, a coordinated flinch across three men. The man nearest him reached out a hand but did not quite touch him. “Excuse me. Do not move the artifacts.”

Sylens turned the claw over. “This?”

“Do not …”

“I find both your hierarchy and security to be disappointing, if removing two Bellowbacks is not enough to allow one the privilege of touching an artifact set out in the open.”

“It was inside the shelf,” one of the guards attempted.

It was this that seemed to finally draw Marad’s attention. He glided over from the king’s side. “What’s this?”

“Captain said we aren’t supposed to let anyone touch anything in the library, except the king and queen-mother.”

“Remind me of your name,” Marad said softly.

Sylens opened his hand. “I am an interested wanderer.” The Corruptor claw thumped onto the table. With no power source at all and not even a way to connect to one with the ends sheared clearly apart, it was as heavy and lifeless as a rock. “Aloy and I worked together, before the attack on the Spire. You have us to thank for some of your walls holding.”

Marad’s expression smoothed out, replacing an increasingly sour look with an envoy’s blank one. He looked over at the table. “Is that right, Aloy?”

She had been bent over the map, pointing at a location nearer to Nasadi. While Avad hovered like a frightened bird, Vanasha had almost blended into the background. Uncannily for someone so striking, she could lean against a table and project an aura of astonishingly convincing boredom. Just a citizen visiting the library. No information here at all.

Aloy’s gaze was even more unsettling as she turned to Marad. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Your friend says that we owe him for our city still standing. Is that right?” I just saw him palming the artifacts, Marad did not say. The Carja could be so courteous about their cruelty.

Not the reaction Sylens had wanted, but neither a problem he could not solve. Aloy, though. She caught his gaze and stared, her cheeks flushed, clearly feeling as blind under the Sun as he had been when he thought about his orbit around the library too long. She would hold information over his head, but which part exactly? That he had founded the Eclipse? That he had worked with HADES? That he had taught Bahavas and cultivated Helis through inaction? Helis could have been talked down from his mad devotion. Sylens had not done that.

Aloy narrowed her eyes. “Why?” Her suspicion was cold and fiery at once. “Sylens. What did you do?”

Marad raised an eyebrow.

Ah, so now Aloy was suspicious. That was a problem — and he felt guiltier about it than about dislodging the work of an anonymous librarian. She had rescued him. She had tied both of them together in their deals and plans, risked death for one another. The world owed them both, and the pressure of it made them into diamonds.

He gestured at the claw. “I examined that.”

Aloy’s cheeks flushed. She knew something. Maybe she was thinking of Ban-Ur, of the theft that had unlocked the very first door to the Metal World that Sylens had ever known. “Your examining is going to get us into trouble.”

“And why is that?” Marad said.

“He’s a tinker,” Aloy said. “He used to work with the Eclipse, too. But we have a deal, Marad. You won’t break it.”

Sylens felt cold. Aloy’s regard was like water seen through ice: distorted, shifting. He had the sudden and terrible sense that she might reveal him. What would that give her? She would lose a partner in the research. He was certain that she would not risk their alliance. Or was he? He knew himself to be a liar and so struggled to think of a reason for Aloy not to lie.

Marad shrugged wry assent. “I trust you, Aloy.” The royalty by the table had raised their heads to look over now. Conscious of his audience, Marad raised his voice. “Aloy’s deeds allow her leeway. Her deeds and the rumors. They say you can become invisible, that you kill people who displease you, that you call machines. Some rumors are kind, others are fearful. Both serve different ends, depending if one wants to demonize the Nora or the Carja or another group entirely. You understand the value of a good rumor, I think.”

Aloy said, “Give us — he and I and whoever you can find for us — the chance to catch these Eclipse soldiers, or pranksters, or whoever they are. If we find out who did it and there’s proof that it wasn’t Sylens, we’ll go on our way. Ways. If we find out it was him, I won’t stop you from whatever you want to do.”

Good, Aloy. Appeal to their desire for control.

The Kestrel behind Sylens had begun to bristle, his expression souring and his grip on his long, thin spear tightening so hard that his knobby knuckles turned bone-white. The man with the Oseram-style mustache straightened his shoulders. “Keep him inside the city, not outside the library.” Marad crisply chastised the guards. When he met Sylens’ eyes he managed to look calm. “You must understand that your prior association may be useful in this endeavor. We ask —”

“You insist,” Sylens said.

“We do.”

Was that a civic plural, the whole city arrayed behind Marad’s reptilian-cold eyes? Bahavas had been contrary too, sometimes. Helis had been easy to lead, as simple to goad as a Strider on a rope. What hooks could he put in Marad? Sylens made an obvious effort to turn away from the claw.

Marad pressed his fingers on either side of his nose. “There is also the chance that someone may have let those machines in, or driven them in out of the forest.”

“They could have had Focuses, to see the tracks,” Aloy said.

Marad made a sound of recognition. Aloy turned to him. “Do you know something about that?” She asked.

“I had thought they were referring to you,” Marad said. “But there are rumors of people with strange devices that glow like your Focus.”

“If so, that would remove the possibility that they are with the Eclipse,” Sylens said.

“Because we took down the network.” Aloy nodded at him. “So we have a way to eliminate some suspects. If they have a Focus, they weren’t part of the original Eclipse.”

“Yes.”

“Yariki, the envoy from the Banuk, is in the city and might have seen something.”

“Good,” Marad said. “Talk to her when you can.” He looked at Sylens.

Sylens spoke before Marad could. “Am I a captive then?” He glanced at the guards. Aloy rolled her eyes behind Marad.

“Stay in the city and the fields until we sort this all out. Not past the Spire.” Marad looked at the guards to be sure they understood. “And Aloy, talk to Yariki if you think she knows something.”

Some of that work would be easier than others, Sylens thought. With Aloy keeping his identity secret — if only to hold the information over his head — he didn’t think Marad would bother him. Something had stuck in his mind about Marad, though, some data point that Sylens thought he had seen somewhere else. Had he ever met the man before?

It would have to be one of the many answers he found here.

After they were done mapping out potential routes for the machines, Aloy left the library quickly. The room had started to feel stuffy. Carja architecture was beautiful, but so heavy. Something had also begun to nag at her about Sylens’ presence. She wasn’t used to being in the same place as him for so long, for so many of her actions to have consequences around him in particular. After Sunfall she had begun to lean against the idea of him, to take comfort in his grudging aid. She had started to wonder again what it would be like to touch the cords on his arms, or to kiss him against the shelves in that library.

Having the reality so close was odd.

He seemed to think so too. He followed her at a distance, looking out over the steep drop toward the pools below.

It didn’t quite feel right insisting that Sylens be a captive in the city, but nor did it feel right knowing that he could still be working on something for HADES. Their bargain was set: Sylens would pause in his dangerous experimentation as long as Aloy kept the Carja from skinning him alive. Had she said the right thing to Marad today? She supposed she would have said the same thing about Nil. He is dangerous, but only when it serves him, and usually then it also served Aloy.

She started to speak without preamble. They were far enough away from one another that the Focus picked her voice up, transmitting to the channel he had forced open. Once she realized it, she lowered her voice so that the passersby could not hear. “Look, when you said that Marad was keeping you captive I wasn’t angry at you. I was disappointed. You can be subtler than that.”

Sylens ranged further around the other side of the balcony. It was so much easier to talk this way, Aloy thought. Without looking at his eyes but knowing he was there. “Now I know that. I will be. Don’t start ordering me around, too.”

This was more familiar ground: Sylens being short with her and Aloy not caring. “Remember, Marad said that I kill people who displease me.”

He paused. The slight crackle around the words, stronger in the stone palace, was as soft as an indrawn breath. “Do I displease you, Aloy?” he said, wry.

She felt her cheeks heat up. Well, that would haunt her.

“No, Sylens.” The balcony curved; it brought them together at the bridge, to stand in front of stony-faced guards. Aloy met his eyes, willing him to understand. She would say this like she had him at spearpoint, and she would say it as if they were sitting side-by-side in safety by a fire. “You and I have a bargain.”

She broke the stare and moved across the bridge at a jog, relishing the slam of her own feet on the solid wood.

Last night she had dreamed about walking through the maizelands with Vanasha. They needed to reach a particular canyon in the mesa walls, but neither of them could find the right paths despite their familiarity. Maps became blurry, memory more so. Vanasha said that they needed to find the most quiet pathways, and so they moved from trail head to trail head listening. Aloy woke up before they found the canyon and lay under her blankets thinking about how they had gone from place to place looking for silence, silence, silence.

The slam of her own feet did not distract her too much from the voices around her. Over the sound of Sylens’ own footsteps and the shuffling of the guards, she heard Vanasha call her name insistently, as she had done when they first met.

“Aloy,” said the spy. “Wait.”

#Horizon Zero Dawn #Aloy/Sylens #Aloy #Sylens #Blameless Marad #Vanasha

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