#Jade’s monologuing at the wall

[wheezecheese]

N is not handsome, he is

pretty

[kawaii-queen-kaiju]

Lies

Maribat March - Prompt 10

~

"He gave me a diamond the size of my fist! You can't tell anyone though; the paparazzi would be all over us." Lila loudly proclaimed from across the cafeteria. Marinette scoffed, throwing a disgusted sneer over her shoulder at the Italian. This was the fifth celebrity engagement story. She wondered just how she got unfortunate enough to be surrounded by these idiots. She could kill everyone in this room in two minutes flat, and yet, she had to restrain herself for the sake of the mission. Keep playing the role of meek little 'Mari', keep pretending she wasn't one of the most skilled assassins in the world. Stupid Hawkmoth. Because of some random ass dude, she was stuck among these sheeple.

She quickly left the cafeteria, exiting the school and heading to the bakery. She greeted Sabine - a member of the Order of the Miraculous and one of her old handlers - and climbed the stairs to her room. Just a little longer. She was so close to finding the man who had enough audacity to steal from the Order. And Hawkmoth, him too.

Her phone rang, startling her out of her inner monologue. It was Damian, her betrothed. She happily answered, the smile on her face genuine for once. 'Habibti. How was your day?' He asked, an odd whirring echoing in the background. 'Have you stabbed the harlot yet?'

She rolled her eyes, the smile on her face persisting. "It was fine. And no, I have not stabbed Lila, as much as I may want to. It's annoying, but it's helping my cover. She keeps the idiots from following me around, and it makes easier to search Paris for the lousy fake-Guardian and whatever asshat he let take the Butterfly." 

'And you're still sure you would not like me to join you and help?'

She sighed, the conversation a common one since she was sent to Paris. "I've got this, Dami. Besides, you wouldn't last five minutes here. I love you, but you are very temperamental."

He squawked angrily, and she could picture the offended look on his face, his jade green eyes crinkling adorably. 'I am not temperamental! You seem to be forgetting just how many of our trainers you sent to the infirmary.'

She rolled her eyes. "They were misogynistic pricks, and you know it."

'I was not arguing that they weren't, Habibti, merely stating that you extensively hurt each of them. In fact, I am quite glad for what you did. Had you not, Mother never would have seen fit to have us betrothed.'

Marinette smiled happily at the memory, standing in the middle of the large al-Ghul throne room in ceremonial garb, opposite Damian in matching robes. "Yeah." She glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed. "Sorry, Dami. I need to head back. Call you back later?"

'Of course. I love you, Habibti.' He answered curtly, though she could tell he was peeved at being cut off. "I love you too."

She came back to excited whispers throughout the classroom, and a huddle around Lila's desk. Marinette rolled her eyes, heading towards her own desk at the back of the room. Except...

She was stopped in her tracks by one whispered word. 'Damian'. There were plenty of Damians in the world, and several rich ones Lila could be claiming she's engaged to; but what if? Marinette continued up the stairs, but kept an ear on the conversation at the front.

'Wayne'.

Marinette clenched her teeth. They were talking about Damian. Her Damian. She'd seen articles and heard rumors before, right after Damian's debut as a billionaire's son, but something about hearing her beloved's name come from that liar's mouth made her see green. She was fuming, trying to force away the murderous haze. She was chosen for this mission specifically because of the ease it took to banish the Pit's influence from her mind, and she was not going to let Lila of all people ruin it for her. 

At the front of the room, the door slammed open. Marinette's mind screeched to a halt, because standing there in all of his glory was Damian. She shot to her feet and raced down the stairs before she registered what she was doing. He was here, right in front of her! She flung her arms around him, squeezing tight.

"Hello, Habibti." He whispered in her ear, squeezing her back. "What are you doing here?" She asked, pulling back to look at him. "Father found something. Camera footage of the akumas, and an identity, over a hundred and twenty years old. They're going after them now." He said, a happy gleam in his eye despite the lack of emotion on his face. Marinette grinned widely. Her mission is over! She can go back to Nanda Parbat - or Gotham!

"Marinette, what's going on?"

She turned around abruptly, remembering their audience. "Who is this?" Alya was front and center, glaring at her accusingly. Marinette's mind was whirling, trying to find an in-character way to answer. Except they found them. The false Guardian and the Butterfly. She didn't have to keep up her cover anymore. She grinned, her true smile, not the meek thing she'd developed the past few months.

She watched as Lila's little lapdog recoiled, enjoying the effect she finally got to have on her classmates. Marinette stalked forward, easily falling back into her natural gait. The walk of a predator. "I'm happy to announce that I'm done! I don't have to sit here and pretend anymore! You're all horribly stupid, and it was definitely not a pleasure to have known you." She let her smile widen to that terrifying degree that always made her targets believe she was inhuman. She never dissuaded those thoughts, instead encouraging them. "And you, Lila Rossi. You are a lying sociopath, and to be honest, I can respect that! But you chose to put my beloved's name in your mouth, and you've made me mad. Unfortunately for you, that is an unpleasant situation to be in."

"M-Marinette?" Alya tripped backwards on the steps, falling on her butt. She was ignored. Marinette's focus was on Lila, the repulsive girl who dared to soil her beloved's name with her tongue. To her credit, Lila was managing to hold eye contact with Marinette, even if it was in paralysis. "Tell me," Marinette slammed her hands on the lying girl's desk. "Do you do any research before you decide to spread rumors?" 

Lila was pale and shaking, her mouth a thin line. She didn't answer. "You do, don't you? You recognize my beloved, and you realize your house of lies is toppling around you." Marinette ended with a whisper, her face inches from the Italian's.

The room was silent, everyone's focus on the scene before them. On the way Marinette's personality did a complete one-eighty and froze everyone in their spots. Well, everyone except for the boy. He was staring at Marinette in adoration, hands clasped behind him as he watched his betrothed tear into her hemorrhoid of the last several months. His phone buzzed in his pocket, the only sound in the room. "Habibti. It's done."

Marinette whirled around, her sunshine smile back. "Then why are we still here?" She linked arms with the boy and left the room in stunned silence.

(The LoA and The Order are the same organization under different names)

[homestuckreplay]

has anyone else noticed that homestuck is getting kinda long?

(page 1145-1148; some thoughts on pacing and accessibility)

Jade’s bass playing to grow or move the lilypads works, and was well foreshadowed – in addition to both her bass playing pages where the garden atrium grows because of the amp in there (p.822, 1026), Jade captchalogues the bass (p.823) and the narration specifically notes ‘You take the PORTABLE AMP from the WALL SOCKET too.’ It feels like Act 3 has been entirely leading up to Jade entering these ruins.

In ‘[S] Jade: Pester John’ (p.1073), Bec guards the mystic ruins on Jade’s island, and a glowing white spirograph in the ‘same’ location mapped onto Prospit. So it’s a fair guess that the white spirograph was also present on ancient Earth, and may have been the cause of the ruins’ construction. And that means it might still be within the ruins, and could act as a portal to Skaia, which would allow Jade to go there while she’s awake. If she did that, could she travel to Prospit and find her own dream self? Or is her dream self only present on Prospit when her waking self is asleep? Either way, I think these ruins will be Jade’s backdoor into Sburb.

I love all three of these Jade pages for the visuals – 1145 because it’s cool when two panels match up into one bigger one (and interesting to think about why this was chosen instead of one bigger panel – maybe because one is Jade and one is the amp, and they’re two separate focal points?) and 1146 because Jade imagining herself as a frog as she jumps over lilypads is so fun and silly. I checked Wikifur and apparently amphibians such as frogs are classified under scalies, which is different to her interest in a ‘proud snout’, ‘the hunt’ and ‘claiming the night’ (p.797) but still fits with her desire for ‘a more visceral sapience’ and escaping the confines of humanity. So I feel like Jade doesn’t have one specific fursona, and wants to keep her options open with different animals.

And 1147 is just incredible – the glowing green symbols look like something from a hacker movie, like Jade’s entering a digital space, but at the same time we know this is physical stone and ancient hieroglyphs. Those things being meshed is very cool to me, and it makes me wonder just how much of all human technology was originally from Skaia. The mesmerizing soft glow gives the page a dreamlike quality, a reminder that Jade doesn’t have a plan, she’s just following instructions from her dreams and acting on faith.

John told Dave ‘i think you should use your copy of the game to help [rose]!’ on page 294, and it has taken 854 pages and over half a year in real time for him to install the game and help, but they are finally making this transpire. I was saying yesterday how Jade challenges Rose, and today I’m saying that Dave doesn’t challenge Rose at all. They have great banter, but Rose always has a leg up on it – and I think she types and/or thinks faster too, as she gets in her ‘Go on.’ before Dave can finish his ‘where making this’ sentence, when usually he’s the one to send a bunch of messages in a row.

Here’s the thing. I am speaking directly to Rose Lalonde here. Hi Rose, I understand that your house is burning down and things suck right now and you should not have to be the person who has to micromanage all your friends and deal with this entire situation alone. However. You are being dumb as shit by not giving Dave some basic instructions on exactly what to do the second he loads the game. You know that kid is not gonna read your GameFAQs. You know he can dish out those giant long monologues but he cannot take them. Please Rose, for your own safety and possibly the future of humanity or something, give the guy like three bullet points.

...no? Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff reference instead? Okay then.

This update also comes with a newspost, which I’m going to quote in full below.

That's my cue to disappear. Time for me to vanish into the animation abyss for a while. Let's give it a week, tops. If you're one of those people who has trouble keeping up with all the updates I bury you with, maybe now's a good time to catch up. And if you're one of those people who's finding everything going on in the story to be somewhat confusing and overwhelming, then maybe now is a good time to go back and reread it all. I'm pretty sure about 95% of all MSPA readers huddle somewhere beneath this umbrella. (/news 8 January 2010)

I have been thinking about the update frequency, and thought I was projecting because I definitely put an above average amount of time into Homestuck, but maybe this is a bigger issue. People only have so much time in the day, but some people do have more time than others. Relative to other webcomics, Homestuck asks readers to put a lot more time into it, a lot more frequently – both because the updates come fast and because the story is complex. It rewards people who do put a lot of time into it, because the small details, patterns and parallels, time loops, etymologies, and opportunities to predict and even influence (via user commands) the story encourage people to stay up to date, to read closely and reread often. The more effort you put into reading Homestuck, the more you get out of it, and that’s incredible, but it’s definitely made by and for people who have a lot of leisure time. So, young middle class people, especially teenagers and college students who don’t need jobs, and people who are socially isolated for whatever reason, will be way overrepresented. (I do this project because I love it and I do it by choice, but balancing this with work and school and relationships and my other major hobby is not easy especially with what’s felt like a recent increase in update frequency!)

This quality also makes it more competitive with other webcomics – someone might have time to keep up with, say, 20 webcomics that post a once per day or three times a week strip that stands alone or is part of a relatively simple story. If that person wants to follow Homestuck, they might have to drop down to 15 or even 10 other comics, because this one takes up such a disproportionate amount of space. This idea of creators putting out constant content to stay afloat on a transient internet, such that it could be a full time job to keep up with it (and sometimes is – there’s franchises that have in-house lore experts because creators themselves struggle to keep track of stories) will become huge in the future. And when we can all only pick a couple pieces of media to stay up to date with, life gets harder for smaller, newer and part time creators, who can’t provide that yet. And yeah I’m probably part of that problem.

I might also disappear for a few days to work on end of act 3 stuff! or I might not! if I have anything to say in the meantime or any fun asks then I will post. but at the absolute latest I will post on the day EOA3 drops and if I don’t do that then send an ambulance to my house.

> John: Ascend to First Gate.

[only-lonely-stars]

you should know I'm a liar (chapter 1 - crossroads)

[chapter 1 - you are here!] // [chapter 2] - (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

After the Merge, Lloyd is alone. Ninjago has moved on, and it doesn't need the Ninja anymore. As he's slowly rotting away, Lloyd meets someone he has a bit too much history with: someone who owes him more than a couple answers.

Co-authored by @dragon-gem!

Majorly inspired by this beautiful piece of artwork, drawn by @diamonddogs-terrarium! It's embedded in the text below.

I’m the only one left.

The rooftops weren’t as distracting as Lloyd had hoped. Down at street level, the Crossroads were a barrage of color and noise. Sixteen realms and countless cultures had moved into Ninjago City, making it their own.

Lloyd, a remnant of the old Ninjago, was left behind like garbage.

Memories of the city he loved grated against Lloyd’s heart, in places that were still raw from the last time he’d remembered–

–the last time he’d bled.

Don’t think about it. Just go home.

The way down from this roof, the peak of the Crossroads’ highest building, required a challenging jump to the next building. The pagoda-styled roofs provided a decent footing, but still it took him a moment to calculate just how hard to push himself.

Just before the jump, he reached for his mask, and found nothing.

I really need to get a new suit, he thought with some frustration. This is getting annoying.

He leaped.

Seconds later, he rolled to a stop on the lower roof, and from there, latched onto a water spout. He rode it down the wall, maneuvering his body weight to avoid the clamps that held it to the brick, and was on the dirt street below in moments.

The Crossroads turned a blind eye to him, just as it needed to. A ninja couldn’t always be seen. He needed secrecy, especially because he worked alone–

Lloyd shook his head, trying to banish the miserable thoughts that followed him. Why can’t I focus today? I sound like a supervillain, monologuing everything. Nobody needs that.

Besides… the Monastery was empty. He could cry about his terrible fate as the fated Green Ninja in privacy. Nobody had to know what he did there.

Nobody saw that every night, when he sat before his uncle and father’s pictures in the courtyard, he cried.

His family, his world, the life he was supposed to have. All stolen, according to some fate.

I didn’t ask for this.

He let himself focus on the hustle and bustle of the Crossroads, the comforting weight of his well-worn sword on his back, the sound of crowds, the crashing noises–

What was that?

The sound repeated, and Lloyd turned, hearing it come from down the street. It sounded close, and worse, someone was groaning.

He ran, turning the corner to see a pile of rubbish spread across the street. The majority was a rather tall pile, pinning down a prone figure. A few passersby were approaching the figure, pulling off garbage to let the person stand.

Lloyd watched, not sure what to do.

After a few minutes of garbage removal, a Mucoid stepped forward from the crowd and offered the unfortunate person a hand up. The figure stood– a woman, based on height and frame– and nodded appreciatively.

Lloyd was just about to turn and leave when the woman turned her head.

Green eyes, tinged with pink, watched him.

He watched, too, in mute fascination and horror.

The woman pushed back her hood. White hair came spilling out, now cut to only brush her shoulders.

Still, she didn’t look away, and Lloyd reached for his sword out of habit.

Harumi, the Quiet One, the Jade Princess, his arch nemesis… shook her head.

He narrowed his eyes. “Harumi!”

She flinched as a few pairs of eyes turned toward him. He ignored them, stepping close enough to speak with her. “Please. Not here.”

“Why not?”

Harumi glanced around. “There’s too many people around.”

Lloyd’s skin prickled, fear and anticipation warring in him. She was still the same person who had lied to him, kidnapped him, caged him, tried to kill him. Some people never changed. “I don’t think so. Why are you here? To kill me?”

“No!” She took a step back, looking genuinely offended. “Geez, Lloyd. You have a one-track mind.”

“Well excuse me for wanting to get to the truth. What do you want?” His voice cracked on the last word, betraying its disuse from too much time living alone.

She noticed, and smiled weakly. “Can’t a girl just go about her day in peace? I just got squished by a pile of trash. It’s not been a good day already.”

Imagine how I feel, he thought, but didn’t say. “And what exactly do you do in a ‘peaceful’ day?”

“What is this, an interrogation?”

“If it needs to be.”

She scoffed, and with a roll of her eyes that he’d all but memorized, she stepped past him and began walking down the road. “Fine. I don’t have to stay here and let you insult me.”

“Hey!” He wheeled on her, drawing his sword. “Stop!”

“Or what? You’ll cut me down where I stand?”

“If it comes to that.”

She waved a nonchalant hand. “Please, Lloyd. Do you think I’m really going to let you do that? I can always take you in a fight.”

“Hand-to-hand versus a sword? I find that hard to believe.”

Harumi smirked, and Lloyd felt like a spider had crawled up his spine and settled right on his neck– right where it could bite and bleed him dry. “As if I ever go unarmed. You’re as foolish as ever.”

Lloyd felt his pulse pounding at his temples. “Well– well I’m not letting you go.”

“Oh, no! The Green Ninja isn’t letting me go.” She pouted. “I’ll just have to do whatever he tells me.”

Unkind memories sprang up, of time on a boat and an almost-kiss that he hadn’t quite expected. They made Lloyd white-knuckle his sword grip, all his muscles tensed for a fight. “Explain yourself. Why are you in the Crossroads? Why now?”

“Maybe I’ve been here this whole time.”

“Then why show up now?”

“See my previous comment about having a pile of garbage dropped on me. Seriously, Lloyd. You’re not stupid.” She paused. “In fact, you’re supposed to be the dead one. Why are you questioning me? I have every right–”

“You have the right to remain silent,” Lloyd cut in, irritated by her non-answers.

“Did you take a job as a cop?”

“...No.”

“Then don’t treat me like I’m under arrest.” She rolled her eyes again. “Look. Why don’t we find somewhere to just talk this all out. If it makes you feel better, I can swear on my dead parents that I have zero evil plans right now.”

Lloyd was about to yell at her, but he stopped himself. There was something about her frustratingly casual demeanor that didn’t quite look like when she was tricking him– any of several times. “...Swear it.”

She crossed her heart. “On the lives of all of my dead parents, I swear.”

He watched her closely. Show me a tell. Give me a reason to beat you into the dirt.

She met his gaze with an even stare.

All he got were those green eyes, still with pink flashes now and again. A poker face trained by years in the Imperial court, keeping secrets and telling lies like a second language.

She’s telling the truth this time.

He felt sick to his stomach, but sheathed his sword. “Fine. Say I believe you,” he bluffed. “Come back to the Monastery, and we can talk.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? You want me in your home?”

“Where I can keep an eye on you,” he corrected, not sure if either statement was more true than the other. “I’ll sweeten the deal, even. We can have an even fight and work out some of these old grudges.”

Harumi laughed, throwing her head back. “You want a fight? Haven’t I almost killed you enough times?”

He glared at her again. “With staves. I’m a ninja. We value the sanctity of life.”

Harumi, for her part, listened to his correction with only a trace of a smug smile. “...Don’t you mean ‘staffs?’”

“No, I meant staves,” he snapped. “Who’s the trained ninja here?!”

She shook her head in dismay. “Clearly not you, or you’d be harder to rile up.”

“I will drag you back to whatever prison replaced Kryptarium, or so help me–”

“Fine.” She interrupted him, and offered a hand to shake. “If you want to work our your repressed emotions by letting me throw you around, then fine. I’d love another chance to show you who’s the boss here.”

Lloyd felt himself flushing, but he took her hand and shook it with as much strength as possible. She winced at his grip, which made him smile. “It would be nice to show you just how wrong you are, actually.”

“Fine. Let’s get on with it.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” she snapped, always having to have the last word.

Lloyd turned on his heel, heading in the direction of the Monastery, and listened carefully to the footsteps that followed him through the crowd.

If fate wants to punish me, I think I just asked for it.

-------

In a parody of everything normal in Lloyd’s life, he walked the thousand steps to the Monastery of Spinjitzu with Harumi at his heels.

The Merge had made everything discordant, but nothing was more grating than her constant talking, boring into his brain through his ears.

“How is it, being dead? Are you liking being ignored?” She sounded flippant, but the words cut deep, making Lloyd step a little more firmly as they rose toward the not-so-ancient building. “I didn’t like it very much, you understand. Nobody to talk to gets quite boring.”

Lloyd balled his hands into fists. “I liked it, actually. Nobody to talk to leaves plenty of time for meditating.”

“Meditating? What are you, a guru?”

“I’m a ninja master. Meditating is an important part of the job.”

“Please,” she drawled. “You’re just mulling over all your past mistakes, like letting me get squished by a skyscraper.”

“I told you already, that’s not true.”

“And I still don’t believe you.”

Lloyd stopped walking and turned on her. Her expression was smug, a smile pasted across her pale cheeks. “Harumi. For the last time, I didn’t let that happen to you! The Overlord may have revived you before I got there, but I was there.”

She paused, obviously considering her next insult. “You could have been more timely about it.”

“I was a fugitive!”

“I was dead!”

“Gah! You are impossible!” Lloyd rolled his eyes. “Just shut up, we’re almost to the top.”

Harumi snickered. “Make me.”

Instantly he tensed. The look on her face was oddly mischievous, and it sent shivers up and down his spine– a sensation that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“No.”

“Really?” She clasped her hands behind her back, fluttering her eyelashes in a girlish manner. “That’s too bad. Seems like you’re stuck with my chatter.”

Lloyd opened his mouth to retort.

You’re only giving her more ammunition. Quit digging a deeper hole for yourself, Lloyd Garmadon.

He shut his mouth, turned his back, and started up the stairs again.

She followed, walking at his side with only an inch of air between them. Every few steps, her knuckles brushed against his.

He pulled his hand back and veered to the side, and then a few steps later, it happened again.

Ignore it, Lloyd. You’re almost home, you can beat her senseless there.

The thought was not helpful, and neither was the one it came with.

This is too much like the first time I met her.

Harumi kept talking, but this time she didn’t demand any replies. Instead, she commented on the Merged Lands, with their nonsensical combination. In the time since the Merge, he’d noticed strange combinations, and she spoke aloud the things he hadn’t mentioned to anyone.

Mountains giving way to oceans of deep purple waters that were safe to drink.

Petrified forests that only reached up to the knee.

She told him stories. Last year, she got caught in a spring snowstorm, and she was trapped in the home of friendly strangers for a week. They weren’t from Ninjago, so she’d been welcomed.

(It wasn’t worth asking if they were still alive.)

She walked the bank of a river which split two realms, and helped the locals build a retaining wall along it. They were using the water to irrigate their fields, and had cooked for her as long as she kept working with them.

(Manual labor? Hard to believe, but…)

Worst of all, in the middle of the Wyldness, she ran out of hair products. As it turned out, the pre-industrial apocalypse was rather unwelcoming.

(He’d had to snort at that one, and her smile in return was unsettling.)

The walk kept going, and going, and going. Lloyd’s thoughts wandered toward his family– and Jay’s much more tolerable rants.

I miss them so much.

I’m a complete moron.

-------

They reached the Monastery, whereLloyd hauled one side of the gate open. “After you.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t argue. “Thank you.”

They stepped inside, and Lloyd was hit with a realization that it was rather sad to be here alone. He’d gotten used to dead silence, but it made him want to cry now that he faced it; that, and throw something off the edge of the cliff.

He ignored both urges, instead shutting the gate behind them.

Harumi blinked. “Did it get larger in the Merge?”

“No,” Lloyd grumbles. “It’s just bigger than one person needs.”

“I suppose so,” Harumi replied lightly. “It still looks nice, like new construction. I suppose I won’t be receiving a tour or a cup of tea?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You want to play houseguest? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“No, it’s not. Perhaps I turned over a new leaf.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“You shouldn’t.” Harumi rolled her shoulders, smiling mischievously. “Knives or no?”

Lloyd gave her one dry look. “I told you, staves only. Cleaning blood off stone is harder than it sounds.”

She laughed. “I’ve heard that. But really, I’m not a heathen. I would only try and really kill you after we’d fought a couple times! Imagine if I succeeded the first time– which is quite likely. How awkward.”

“You’ve become a master of understatement,” Lloyd commented dryly, then walked across the courtyard to put away his sword. “Maybe the Merge did you some more good than it did me.”

Harumi chuckled softly, and when he glanced over at her, she was plucking a knife out of her waistband and placing it against the wall— far enough away so neither of them would be able to get to it while they were sparring. “Maybe. It’s been an odd couple of years.”

“Tell me about it,” he commented, focused on re-tying his gi so it wouldn’t get in his way. He hadn’t had a good fight in too long, and the training course wasn’t a great substitute. Could he still take a real opponent, with months or years of cooling his heels only dulling his skills?

It’ll be good for sharpening your skills, the practical part of his mind contributed. Iron sharpens iron.

Harumi taunted, “I can still kick your butt.”

Lloyd scoffed in reply. “Doubt it.”

Harumi’s laugh echoed off the silence etched into the courtyard walls. He approached and stopped in the center of the yard, assuming a defensive position. She stepped closer and did the same. Again he noted the strengths and weaknesses in her stance— how best to knock her off balance, to force her to retreat. She was easily exploited, when done right.

He grinned. I really needed some action.

Harumi grinned back. “You’re so slow. Scared to hit a girl, Lloyd?”

“Is that what I should be calling you?” He taunted back, squaring his heels, and launched himself into a roundhouse kick. “I was referring to you as my sworn enemy!”

“Aww, I’m flattered!” Harumi snorted, dodging his kick and launching an attack of her own. “Sworn enemy does have a nice ring to it!”

Lloyd dodged her punch easily. “That’s what you focus on?”

“What, would you prefer something else? I’ve got a whole host of names I could go by.”

He ignored her comment for just long enough to try to sweep her legs out from under her– and miss, coming back into a standing position. He was just quick enough to block a blow to the head. “Don’t call yourself the Quiet One anymore. You’re not quiet!”

“Pssh, no one calls me that anymore. I’ve also avoided the whole ‘damsel in distress.’”

“Really? Your list of former nicknames is getting long.”

“I could make it longer. I even managed to shake being called your girlfriend,” she shot back.

Lloyd stiffened, despite all his training demanding flexibility and loose muscles, and his rhythm dropped. He stood back, resting on his heels, steadying himself. “...Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Harumi smirked, still in defensive position. “Are you still going to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Lloyd’s annoyance flared into anger. He knew his face was red, and worse, he didn’t care. “I’m not interested in your games.”

“Funny. I don’t believe that you invited me all the way up here to get even. You’re lonely, and I was there.”

He returned to a boxing stance. “I’m not that pathetic.”

“Just a little pathetic,then.” She rolled her eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong, Lloyd. I dare you.”

“We both know you’ll ignore anything I say. Stop stalling.”

“Hey, I’m right here!” Harumi spread out her hands, opening up to a punch they both knew Lloyd wouldn’t throw. “If you have something to say to me, just spit it out already! I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m good with secrets, you know that.”

Irritation won out, and Lloyd threw a kick. He aimed for her head, almost landing it, but she ducked just in time. He lost his balance and took a moment to step back, but the deep, heaving breaths from the failed strike only made him angrier.

“Do you know what the problem is?” Harumi was still talking, and watching him with a heavy gaze. “You’re not used to being alone anymore. You can’t handle yourself now that your team is dead.”

“They’re not dead. They’re missing. It’s different.”

“Really? Then why aren’t you looking for them? You’re just rotting away, up here in your lonely castle.”

“My monastery–”

“Is empty,” she interrupted, crossing her arms. “And you’re empty too.”

Anger won out, again, but this time Lloyd couldn’t lash out. The rules of sparring were too deeply drilled into his mind, from years of training with his brothers and sister. When sparring with a friend, never strike when they’re undefended.

Harumi, with crossed arms and unbalanced posture, wasn’t prepared. Despite how much she grated on his nerves, she was his guest.

He poured his anger into words instead.

“My family is not dead. I’m doing fine, no thanks to you, and all the ways you’ve tried to ruin my life. Insulting me is a step too far, actually! You could’ve walked away, ignored me, left my life again. You came to my home, because I invited you, of your own free will. And now you’re playing it like you hate me?!”

She scoffed. “Hate is a strong word. I loathe you, Lloyd Garmadon.”

“Fine, that’s just as bad! If you’re going to act like you’ve always hated me, then I guess there’s no pleasing you. There’s no such thing as ‘good enough’ for a prissy princess like you!”

Harumi glared at him. “Do not call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever I want! You’ve always wanted to destroy my life, Harumi. Congratulations, it’s destroyed, and you get to see it!” He gestured at the rest of the Monastery courtyard, just as miserably empty as before she’d come to visit. “Are you happy? You didn’t get to do it yourself, but you still got what you wanted. Is it good enough?!”

Harumi shifted her weight, uncrossing her arms. “Now you’re putting words in my mouth? That’s so mature, Green Savior. What’s next? Are you going to tell me that I should still be dead?”

Lloyd grasped at words, finding nothing good to throw back at her. “You– you really love ruining my day!”

She rolled her eyes and settled back into a fighting stance, fists raised to protect her face. “You ruined your own day.”

Finally! Lloyd didn’t wait for an invitation to whale on her. Instead, he launched himself full-body in her direction.

They collided, and Harumi fell back with a cry of surprise. Her feet slipped out from under her, and Lloyd angled just so she didn’t crack her skull on the stone– not that he would have minded, once upon a time– and instead bore the first impact with her shoulder.

Harumi grunted loudly, and Lloyd took advantage of her dazed state to pin her down by the shoulders and hips.

Red and purple tinged his vision, pounding with his pulse. When was the last time he’d been so angry?

Harumi tapped out, pounding her fist three times against the flagstone. Her breath was coming in gasps, and a secret, evil part of Lloyd wished she would just stop and be quiet.

He sat back, letting up pressure on her chest, and sat on her legs to keep her down on the ground. The haze of anger was beginning to clear, and he realized he was panting just as hard.

The red vision cleared, and he slowly came to see the blinding paleness below him. Harumi, with white hair and pale skin. There was no healthy flush in her cheeks, despite all the exertion. She was more dazed that he’d realized, and presently began to cough.

I did that to her.

Lloyd let up, getting off her so she could roll onto her side. Harumi was heaving full gasps of air, and she curled into a recovery position to regain her breath. He watched with some measure of worry, but within a minute, her cheeks were flushed again.

Good. If she was hyperventilating… He didn’t let himself finish the thought, along with its awful implications. She’s fine. Just don’t get so rough with her next time, Greenie.

When she was able to sit up, she choked out a few breathless words. “You were holding out on me. I haven’t seen you act like that since…”

Lloyd looked away, answering the unasked question. “That’s because I haven’t. I refused then, and I refuse now.”

“I’m not surprised either way… your father is a real piece of work.” She took a deep breath, sounding more stable. “Like father, like son.”

Lloyd bristled. “You’re still insulting me after I almost give you a concussion? You must love to hate me, Harumi.”

“I told you already, I don’t hate you.”

“Oh, right. How could I forget. You loathe me, which is a synonym for hating me.”

“It’s not the same.” Now it was her turn to avoid his gaze. “Besides, we’ve been enemies for years now. If I treated you any differently, you’d think I’m lying. It wouldn’t even be a bad assumption.”

Lloyd couldn’t help scowling, even though she wasn’t looking. “And where do you think I got that assumption?”

She rolled her eyes, but looked at him again. “Probably my devastating betrayal that broke your heart, followed by resurrecting the evil reflection of your dead father, dying as a direct result of your actions, and then acting as the right hand woman for your greatest enemy.”

Lloyd stared at her incredulousy, and she had the audacity to laugh. “Come on, Lloyd. I’m more self-aware than you give me credit for.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

Enough was enough, so Lloyd stood up and offered her a hand. “If you don’t hate me, then you could have the decency to be honest and tell me how you really feel.”

Harumi accepted the hand up, letting go as soon as she was on her feet. Her hand was smaller than he remembered, but still strong, and he wondered how strong her grip would be if she was trying to hurt him.

As soon as she was standing, Harumi drew back her hand. He thought she would make some witty retort, but instead she took hold of the hem of her hoodie and pulled it over her head.

Lloyd averted his eyes. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, and her pale skin on display made him distinctly uncomfortable– that, and hot under the collar. “Do you have to do that?”

“Do what?” She sounded genuinely confused.

He felt a blush creeping up his neck and ears. “...Not wear a shirt.”

“Oh.” She laughed at him. “No thanks. If I’m going to get hot and sweaty, I’d rather not make my jacket stink too. You’ll just have to deal with it.”

He groaned. “Fine. Then you should at least answer my question.”

“What was your question, again?”

“Your feelings,” he gritted, glancing at her. She was wearing a smug grin, of the type that made his skin crawl– and not entirely unpleasantly, which irritated him even more. “Since we’re apparently working out all our issues today.”

She laughed, throwing back her head with amusement. “Apparently, but you seem content to insult me instead. I can play dumb, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“Less of a play for you,” he sniped, “and more of a reality.”

Harumi sighed, still sounding like he amused her, and looked him in the eye. “Look, you were convenient at the time, alright? My feelings had nothing to do with it.”

Nothing.

Lloyd watched her, thinking of all the times they’d had this conversation already, all the times she’d held a knife to his throat.

The ways she’d touched him, spoken to him– it was too convenient for her to say that. It was the most convenient option. The easiest answer, to change the topic and make him move his focus away from the real her.

She’s lying again. I need to try something new.

Lloyd turned away from her and approached the wall where the training weapons were kept. “You know, Harumi, I’m not stupid. You might think so, but I’m still the Green Ninja. I’ve had girls screaming over me for more than a decade, and you know what I’ve learned?”

She snorted. “You’ll tell me even if I don’t ask.”

Lloyd was glad she couldn’t see him roll his eyes. She’s predictable now. He opened the cabinet and pulled out two bamboo staves, both engraved with simple words of power his uncle once remembered from ages past.

“Here’s the bit you don’t get, Harumi. Those girls really did like me, even if I didn’t pay them any attention. And you’re no different! You’re not the first to have a crush on the most powerful martial artist in all of Ninjago.”

She laughed at him, but when he looked at her, she seemed uncomfortable. “Believe me, Lloyd, my only screaming at you has been from pure anger. You were the easiest target to reel in, not to mention the most likely ninja to sympathize with a defenseless princess. It’s as easy as that.”

Lloyd closed the cabinet with the butt of one staff, thinking over his next reply. She was watching him, taking note of his reactions. If he wanted the truth, he’d have to force her into a corner.

When he came back to Harumi, he thrust one staff into her hands. “I know a lie when I smell it. You can’t trick me again.”

She took it with a bitter sneer. “Even if I tell you the truth, you don’t believe me. At this rate, let’s just bet on it.”

Lloyd eyed her. “Bet on what? The odds you tell me something true for once?”

“No, stupid. A true, honest answer.” She tested the weight of the staff he’d given her, tapping the ends against the flagstones. “The catch is that you have to beat me in another fight.”

Lloyd spun his staff around, testing its familiar balance. It was just like his uncle’s old weapon, but still too new– there were no ridges or damage, no scorch marks, to attest its age and usefulness. It wasn’t ancient yet, and neither was he. Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever get to that age, but today he didn’t particularly care.

“Will you give me a truthful answer?”

“Only the truth. No tricks, no lies.”

Lloyd thought it over as he examined his staff. It was a tempting offer… would she deliver on it? What if he lost?

He glanced at her. Over so many years of fighting, he’d figured out her tells– she never covered them all completely. Here and there she’d smile, or toss of the hair more than she really needed to. Her fingers would twitch if she lied, like the truth was itching to escape through her fingertips.

She was still, calmly gripping her staff. Truth.

“Swear it to me.”

Harumi rolled her eyes. “I swear on the lives of all of my dead parents. Happy?”

Lloyd nodded, taking the stance required by bo staff combat. “Yeah. It’s a deal.”

Harumi stepped back the same way, raising her staff readily. “Deal. Let’s get on with it.”

They faced each other again. Lloyd watched her, an unshakeable feeling of premonition coming over him.

They were a matched pair, and not really opposites anymore. One predator and one prey, but even the prey was still a predator of its own right. Harumi twitched like prey, but if he went too easily on her, he would lose quickly.

The promise of a truthful answer was too valuable to risk.

I have to win this fight. I owe it to myself!

Lloyd stepped to the side, and Harumi copied him. They began to circle, and he settled into waiting, prepared…

The ghost of a smile, right at the corner of her mouth, betrayed her attack. He had his staff raised in a moment, blocking her blow with a hollow thock!

Harumi smirked, and he smiled reflexively as he threw her off.

She tried again, striking multiple times– high two, low five, a strike toward the ribs. He blocked them all, but the force behind them made him step back once.

With a little more ground, Harumi became bolder and stepped forward again. Lloyd pushed back. She’s got too much momentum.

He gained one step, and they were right back where they started. Their staves cracked against each other loudly, echoing off the silent walls of the courtyard, echoing off the ghosts of the empty space.

Once, these sounds had been second to cheering and laughter…

Harumi moved suddenly, jerking Lloyd out of his reverie. She feinted, then side-stepped, and suddenly they were all turned around. Lloyd had his back to the gates, and she was gaining momentum again.

Stupid! You know better than to get distracted! Lloyd berated himself internally, but he knew why he wasn’t focused.

Harumi was silent: no taunts, no insults, not even heavy breathing. She seemed completely unharmed from her previous fall, and she attempted to hook his staff and pull it out of his hands.

Lloyd turned his staff instead, trapping hers, and pulled. She stumbled, and he freed himself for a chance to land one strike on her right shoulder.

She grunted, stepping back so she could defend more easily.

Factually, Lloyd knew that he was the better of their two. He had more training, better technique, sharper skills, experience. All the things that a battle-hardened ninja should have. Harumi had none of them.

She still gave him a run for his money. Between constant attacks, she spoke. “You know, on the walk up here, I realized something.”

Lloyd grunted, blocking a poorly-timed strike at his abdomen. “Something besides everything you were rambling about?”

“I used to read a lot about you,” she continued, ignoring his jab– and when she ducked, she made a reach for his staff and tried to steal it. Lloyd landed a weak hit on her arm instead, making her pull back.

Lloyd watched her closely. “And?”

Harumi rolled her eyes. “And I remembered that you used to fly dragons up here. You weren’t ever supposed to walk, were you?”

He made an attempt at an attack, but she seemed to be expecting it. “That’s difficult when all your dragons are dead, Rumi.”

“Pity. I like dragons.” She grinned, pausing her attacks. “Did you just call me ‘Rumi?’”

Lloyd’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest– or maybe that was his stomach churning, some unseen power making him sweat. He looked at her with what he hoped was a withering stare. “Slip of the tongue.”

His hope must have been misplaced, because she just kept grinning. “You’re really not a good liar, Lloyd.”

“Then you should know that was true,” he rebuffed, and meant it entirely. “Unlike you, I don’t make a habit of lying to people.”

“You must not be including yourself in that statement.” She rested the end of her staff against the flagstones. “I like the way you say it.”

His stomach churned a little more. “Say what? ‘Lying?’”

“No, idiot.” She rolled her eyes again. “My nickname. It’s nice to have someone call me that again.”

Unsettled, Lloyd only found the presence of mind to smile back at her– and weakly, because he still wasn’t sure he meant it. Last time Harumi had made him smile, she’d tried to kill him. “I guess that’s good?”

“I’d say so,” she said with a laugh. “Especially these days.”

Harumi gave no warning. In a flash, she struck out with her staff and hit against his, yanking it from his hand. Lloyd barely had time to process it before he heard the sound of it clattering against the ground, useless at a distance.

Then she went after his feet, and he fell hard. He grunted in pain as his back struck a particularly rough stone, immediately smarting, not to mention his pride at being bested so fast.

He glared at her. “Hey! That was a dirty trick!” He pushed himself up on his forearms, but before he could stand, Harumi had her staff pointed at his head.

She raised an eyebrow, and he glared. “You’re a bad sport.”

“Hey, I could have used a dozen other ways to take you down. At least I was quick.”

“That’s not better!”

“You’re really going to complain about this?”

“When you cheated in a fair fight? Yeah, I’ll complain!” Lloyd slapped her staff out of the way and stood up.

“Oh, please.” She put her free hand on her hips, shifting her weight. “Lloyd, it’s not cheating to move quickly. If I took you by surprise, that’s on you.”

“You weren’t following the rules of sparring. That wasn’t a fair win. The deal’s off.”

“I still don’t see the problem,” she argued, watching him with a careful eye. “I won, you lost. By all rights, that means you don’t get any answers from me.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes, searching for some good jab to throw her way, but he came up empty. “Since when do you care about rights?”

Harumi groaned. “You are impossible, Lloyd!”

“So are you.”

“...Touché.” She rolled her eyes. “If you’re so set on it, then let’s go again. Same terms, but if you win or I cheat, you get two honest answers. Does that sound fair enough to you, Green Ninja?”

Lloyd paused to think about it, but the deal was too tempting to resist. The real truth was on the line, and honestly, his broken heart still hurt.

I still want answers.

Lloyd took his time retrieving his staff from where it had rolled away from him. When he came back to face her, he focused on his determination.

No more standing around with my guard down. “Fine. Time for a rematch.”

She nodded, and again they faced each other in ready stances. Harumi held her staff lightly, but in such a way that Lloyd knew she would defend herself. Again, he let himself begin on the defense.

She wasted only a moment.

Harumi threw herself at him, striking her staff against his with another hollow thock! It made his hands vibrate painfully, the sensation running up his forearms. It took more than a little effort for Lloyd to push her off.

She was playing with me before, wasn’t she?

Harumi was silent, and this time, intentional with her strikes. Lloyd had to keep moving– every time he slowed down, she prodded at his weak spots, and once she landed a smarting strike against his shin.

He replied with a jab to the shoulder, making her stumble. Her expression afterward was not angry, per se…

Competitive, his mind supplied, and motivated. You poked the bear.

Not the first time I’ve done it, either.

Harumi was still the Quiet One, even after all this time, and she kept Lloyd on a constant defense. His few thrusts at her were easily parried away. How had he forgotten that she’d studied him, not so long ago, and knew his weaknesses?

Spider bit the mouse, sleep deep…

She’d caught him like a fly in her web, penned him in and trapped him. She was still the same enemy he’d fought for months while living on the run, the same villain who’d given him the slip repeatedly in more recent years.

She did have skill, and it was obvious now.

Lloyd threw himself into a desperate offense toward her legs and head, but it was no use. Harumi seemed to know where he’d go before he moved, and her back was still to an open space, while his was not. She had no problem maneuvering, pushing him back one step at a time, until he bumped against something waist-height.

Harumi took a menacing step.

Lloyd backed again, and tripped over the column which held the switch for the training course.

Despite the stumble, Lloyd raised his staff just in time to block her downward blow.

Harumi, still silent and more than a little intimidating, had a strange look in her eye. Why was it so unsettling?

Her constant chatter had been annoying, but silence from her felt wrong. Where were the insults and the gloating? She was forcing him onto the defensive without even saying a word!

He struck his staff against hers with a fervor, unable to find an opening. When he did find one, she feinted, and the trap closed.

One deft upward motion stole the staff from his hands. She butted the end of hers against his chest, thrusting him to the ground.

He landed hard for the second time, and Harumi pinned him down with one knee pressed down on his chest.

She was breathing hard, panting as she stared at him.

Lloyd swallowed, trying to catch his breath. She's so fast. Her breath was brushing against his face, confusing and disorienting him.

The ground below felt like it was spinning.

They stared at one another. Harumi had that same strange light in her eye, but Lloyd didn’t know what it meant. She eased her knee off his chest slowly, once she was sure he wouldn’t try to fight her off.

(Not that he could.)

“Was that fair enough for you?” Harumi was still breathless, still quiet, still confusing.

Lloyd swallowed. “...Yeah. This time.” His voice was weaker than he liked.

“Are you going to ask me a question?”

Lloyd blinked. “I… I lost. I thought I didn’t get any.”

She shrugged. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”

It was true… and not worth denying it. Lloyd didn’t have to justify himself to Harumi! When had he ever needed her to understand him?

Besides, it always worked. Annoying people led to them putting down their guard. If he was an annoying kid, he’d get his way–

Focus! Lloyd wished he could slap some sense into himself. Harumi was still watching him, and the quiet dragged on to the point where she almost looked bored.

He blurted out the years-old question, not trusting himself to be careful with his words. It would just have to do.

“You said I was the easiest to trick. That you picked the easiest target, and that was me, and– and that’s all it was to you. Was any of it actually real? Anything?”

Harumi watched him, her pupils dilated. Her gaze flicked all over his face.

For a second, Lloyd wondered. Would she answer him?

But…

Was this the real Harumi? A glimpse of the girl he’d actually fallen for? The one he thought he’d known, without all the walls?

(Walls, built with bricks of disgust and hatred, were only that: walls. Not real hatred.)

Harumi leaned down, and Lloyd strained to hear past the ringing in his ears.

She paused, a few inches above his face… and touched his cheek.

He shivered, but her only reaction was a smile. She spoke quietly. “There’s one thing you should know about me, Lloyd. I’m a liar. Feelings are always involved.”

He took a breath, meaning to ask her why, what do you mean–

She silenced him by leaning down, and without bothering to ask, Harumi kissed him.

He froze.

She ignored his abject confusion, keeping the kiss going. It was his first, and he didn’t know what to do. He reached up to touch her face, and when he thought he felt her smile, reached farther to tangle his fingers in her hair.

She sighed quietly, oddly patient as he figured out just what he was supposed to do, and Lloyd suddenly realized just how much he wanted her to touch him.

He’d been starved of the touch of loved ones for so long. It didn’t matter that it was Harumi– her warmth pushed away the loneliness. Her exposed skin was radiating warmth, bringing heat to his face in a rather pleasant way.

He wanted to laugh at the stupidity of it all– he was comforted by the presence of his greatest enemy.

Then Harumi tore away from him, and the moment shattered.

 She sat up, and then pulled away and got off of him. He watched, breathless and confused and reeling. Her shoulders were heaving with large breaths. Her cheeks were rose pink.

She swallowed, speaking quietly. “I… shouldn’t have done that.”

Lloyd felt light-headed, but he sat up anyway. “Rumi?”

“Don’t.” She wouldn’t look at him. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Do what?”

She wouldn’t look at him now. Her flush was pretty, bringing color to her normally pale face. She clutched at the fabric of her pants, holding it in tight fists at her sides, and her scarred knuckles were white.

Lloyd hesitated. “I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She jerked her head over to look at him. Her green eyes were shining, filled with more emotion than he’d seen from her in a long time– more than she’d allowed as any of her masked selves. Her true self was here, and hurting.

“You can’t trust me, Lloyd. Stop while you're ahead. You got everything you wanted.”

He didn’t allow himself to flinch at the bitterness of her tone. She was angry about something, but he didn’t know what. Maybe angry at herself– it didn’t actually matter, did it?

He looked her in the eye, and in that moment, his determination crystallized into a more powerful motivation. “Stop lying to me, Rumi.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are.” He shifted to kneel in front of her, the flagstones digging into his kneecaps, reminding him of the arthritis he’d surely develop in the next fifteen years. “Enough of the lying. Be honest with me.”

“What is there to be honest about? I gave you what you’re looking for, right? Or are you trying to get more out of me?” She looked down at the ground, defeated. “You should know I’m worthless.”

“Stop!” He reached out and touched her knee, and while it made her flinch, she looked at him again. “Harumi. Listen to me.”

She scowled. “How could I not? You never shut up.”

“Enough of this,” Lloyd insisted. This was too important to abandon.

The unpleasant, obvious truth. It was scraped bare, an angry red gash against their futures. It was like every other important relationship in Lloyd’s short, painful life: undeniable.

The bedrock of their broken relationship was painful enough to at least try repairing it.

“I think…” He searched for the right words, watching her expression shift. “...I finally understand you, Harumi.”

She laughed miserably. “Yeah? What makes you think you have any idea what’s wrong with me?”

‘Because we’re the same.” He smiled, trying to be encouraging. “Rumi. You don’t actually want me to leave you alone, do you? You’re not just lying to me– you’re lying to yourself.”

She shook her head. “No. You really don’t want this, Lloyd. You don’t know me.”

“Don’t I? I know what it’s like to be lonely, to be self-destructive.”

She rolled her eyes, so he pressed harder. “Harumi. Listen to me for just five minutes. I want the truth.”

“That’s not what you sound like you want.”

“Well– well maybe that’s not the only thing I want! So what?”

“So you’re asking to get hurt. There is no us,” she spat.

“But there could be! Don’t you want a relationship that’s not based on betrayal?” Lloyd laughed, unable to hide his bitterness. “That’s all I ever wanted from you.”

Harumi scoffed. “We’re not meant to be! We’re horrible to each other. It’s not possible. It’s not healthy!”

“So? Since when do you care about healthy?”

“Since I started to actually care about you! Somehow, I managed to end up caring what happens to your useless carcass!”

Lloyd blinked, taken aback by her shouting. “...Yeah? Obviously.”

She flushed an angry red. “You are so–! Lloyd, we can’t. We’re just not right for each other!”

“Who says?” He looked around, gesturing at the empty courtyard. “The world’s practically ended already. Nothing is what it was before. Why hold on to this?”

“Because I’m going to hurt you again. It’s inevitable. That’s the truth. That’s what we are.”

“That’s what we were!” Lloyd groaned, his heart aching. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Harumi. We could be better, happier–”

“Can we really? How do you know that?”

“I don’t need to know. There’s no way to know.” He reached out and took one of her hands in both of his, and he held on tightly. She almost yanked it back, giving him a dirty look, but didn’t actually make a move.

Lloyd stared her down. “Harumi. Don’t you understand me yet? We don’t have to keep playing this stupid game. The entire world has moved on, we can rebuild too.”

“Oh, sure. Rebuild what never existed, great idea. You know better than to trust me again.”

“Well, maybe I’m stupid enough not to listen.”

She laughed. “You’re not stupid. Don’t make me be the one who’s talking sense.”

Lloyd smiled, absurdly hopeful. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s never how it works between us. That part isn’t going to change.”

Her good humor dissipated. “You’re not thinking straight. You don’t actually want this, Lloyd.”

“You don't,” he countered. “Why not?”

“We both know there’s no future for us. You need someone who hasn’t tried to kill you multiple times. Lying to ourselves won’t change how pointless this all is.”

“It’s only pointless if we think it is!” He leaned forward, daring her to pull away. “Harumi, you have to try to make it work, or it never will.”

“It’s always me who has to try–”

“I’m already trying!”

“Still!” She tried to pull her hand back, but Lloyd kept his hold, and she didn’t end up moving. “...Look. Even if I wanted it to work, it’ll get messed up again. It would be easier on us both if we stopped trying.”

Lloyd watched her, feeling their pulses through their entwined hands.

He saw her, and what he saw made his heart ache with compassion.

Harumi was… anxious, scared, angry. Confused above all else. She wanted comfort, some encouragement that it wasn’t futile.

And he knew how that felt, because that’s how he felt and what he wished for.

“It’ll hurt,” he admitted, watching the way her eyebrows rose in vindication. “I’m okay with hurting, Harumi. That’s how loving people works. But… there’s no one left. It’s just us, and the world is moving on. Ninjago doesn’t need me anymore, and it won’t remember you either. There’s no better time for a fresh start.”

She hesitated, listening, thinking.

Maybe… they could try again. A real shot at actually working. No more lying, no more hurting each other over and over; a real future, a possibility.

Could I actually be that lucky?

Harumi leaned closer, and with her free hand, she brushed one loose curl off his forehead and behind his ear. Her fingers were gentle as she tucked it back, and her expression was soft.

“You’re right, Lloyd. You do need a fresh start.”

Lloyd thought his heart should be soaring, but something stopped him. “...We need it.”

She smiled, the gentlest he’d ever seen her, and her hand fell back into her lap. “No. Not together, or at least, not right now.”

Crack– the sound of Lloyd’s heart fracturing anew. “But…”

She sighed, reaching up to press a finger to his lips. “Not with me, Lloyd, even if we both wish for it. I don’t deserve you, and I never have. If you really want me to love you, then believe me now. Let me go.”

He stared at her, every word a separate blow. Her touch kept him silent.

She’s lying. She’s always lying. The mantra repeated in his mind, like always. You can’t trust Harumi or anything she says.

But she looked so sad! What if she was being honest here? Did it matter, when her words felt like a knife?

Lloyd pulled back and let go of her hand. “I…”

Harumi sighed, and after a moment, she stood up. There was hurt written across her face, in the lines of her frown. She seemed small.

It’s not an act.

She reached down to pick up the two staves from where they’d rolled away, then offered them to Lloyd. He took them numbly, listening to her.

“It’s past time I left, Lloyd. You won’t have to see me again.”

He looked down at the staves, with their uncomfortably new wood and grain, because it hurt less than looking her in the eye. If his brothers and sister had been here, these staves would already be battered and useless from too much training, but they were still new. An artifact of the world which created the Green Ninja, now they sat around and rotted. They would slowly return to dust, just as Lloyd eventually would.

He forced back tears. His voice was pitifully weak. “...Good luck, I guess.”

“Same to you,” she said softly. “Don’t give up yet, Lloyd. Your family isn’t dead, you’ll find them.”

He nodded, not sure what to say to that. “Ninja never quit.”

“I know, believe me.” Harumi stepped back. “Don’t lose that annoying optimism quite yet.”

Lloyd had to laugh, feeling a bit sorry for himself. “Yeah, well, I have a talent for being annoying. I’ll be alright.” He finally looked up at her, despite how it gouged at his heart. “You’re tough, so… I know you’ll be fine out there.”

Harumi smiled, but it wasn’t mean spirited. It was softer, more amused than anything else. “I’ll figure it out. Just don’t die– I still reserve the right to kill you someday.”

“Yeah?” He smiled in return. “Sounds like a date, Rumi.”

She sighed, beginning to walk across the courtyard again. She retrieved her knife and put her hoodie back on, and when she straightened, she was smiling at him. “Thanks for the spars, Lloyd. It’s good to know we’re still evenly matched.”

“I guess you’ll have to keep working at it, if you want to kill me. You might figure it out next time.”

She laughed and pulled open one of the gates. “Just you wait. You never know with me.”

Lloyd nodded as she slipped through the gate. The only thing he could think to say choked him.

Of course I never know! You run away as soon as you’re honest with me.

But there was no way to change a person, no matter how much he wanted to do so.

He didn’t get up until she was well and truly gone. Numbly, he put the staves away, carefully closing their cabinet to keep away the dust.

He sat down on the shallow wooden steps by his uncle’s memorial and rested his chin in his hands.

Then, and only then, did Lloyd cry: miserable, silent, and embarrassed. There was nothing else to do.

Harumi’s words played over and over in his head.

Not with me, Lloyd, even if we both wish for it.

What was he supposed to do? What ‘fresh start’ did she think he needed? He’d only meant another chance for them to… get along? Be friends, or more? At least not try to kill each other every time they met, maybe even enjoy each other’s company. It had been a reasonable thing to want– even something reachable, if it weren’t for her blasted habit of giving up on everything good in her miserable life!

Besides, what about Lloyd? What about his feelings? Harumi was the only person he had left!

He cried a little harder, burying his face in his hands.

And now you’ve left me too!

What do I do now?

[simslegacy5083]

Not So Berry (Straud Descendants) Gen 9

Today's (8/18/2024) Episode: Family Reunion

Luigi’s gaming project had officially become Neomi’s day job, and her new flexible schedule let her visit her island friends easier than ever.

“Thanks again for offering to host Skye’s birthday party, Isra”, she said as they enjoyed the warm autumn sunshine on Breanne’s deck. “Are you sure its still no trouble with your sister coming for a visit? You’ve got to be busy preparing the space for Jade, and we could find another nearby venue.”

“I’m positive” Isra smiled “She’s actually going to stay with Par so I have less to prepare than I might. My old room became the guest bedroom, and we all agreed that would be more comfortable for Jade than sleeping on a pullout bed and sharing a room with a toddler!”

She pushed back her chair. “On that note however, I better get going. She’s supposed to be arriving in about an hour and I don’t want to be late!”

Isra wished her friends goodbye and headed out. She’d seen photos of her sister post transition, so she knew what to expect, but in a very real sense she’d soon be meeting a different sim than the one she’d met so long ago “Well, so long ago for me anyway” she chuckled “Jade’s still a teenager!”

She’d only been waiting a few minutes when a young sim with long, flaming red hair exited the teleporter station and engulfed her in an eager hug.

“Its so great to see you!” she finally said when she was released “You look lovely.” Jade blushed at the praise.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure what to wear, but then my sister Lulu took over and suddenly I didn’t have much say in the matter! I’ll tell her it was a hit.”

“So…” Isra continued “I figured we’d head to The Harbor first. Once you’ve had time to settle in Rhys is going to meet us at the park and we can introduce you to the kids. That sound good?” Her half-sister was clearly nervous to see her birth parent and niblings but nodded excitedly.

As they walked to the teleporter Jade pulled out her phone. “Do you think they’ll like this video of a llama who’s best friends with a cat?”

Jade’s palms were sweating as she and her sister exited the elevator at Wren’s apartment building. Isra, who had been keeping an eye on her sibling, gently squeezed her hand. She didn’t let go until they got to the door of Wren’s apartment, knocking and calling out “Par – we’re here!”

The door was flung open so quickly, Isra was sure her parent had been waiting just on the other side of it. For a moment she and Jade just stood there, staring at each other. Wren finally broke the silence “Both my girls, here together.” the tears in her eyes mirrored those in her firstborn’s. “Come in!”

Once they were all inside Jade broke the ice. “I love your hoodie.” Wren grinned, holding out her arms to model it.

“I saw it in a store window and just knew you’d appreciate the lemons!” The older sim then sighed with happy surprise as she found herself wrapped in a tight embrace.

“That’s the picture we took during Isra’s visit!” Jade exclaimed, staring at the large framed photo on the wall. “It is indeed” her par smiled “and while you’re here we’ll be sure to get some new ones for you to bring back home with you.”

“So, this is the room I grew up in,” Isra said as they entered the cozy space where Jade would be sleeping, before her par interrupted.

“There’s some apple juice and freeze-dried bananas on the nightstand in case you get hungry. The kind you liked when you were small since I don’t know what your favorite snacks are these days. The bed should be super comfy; I bought pure cotton sheets in case you were allergic to synthetics.”

Jade put a soothing hand on her par’s shoulder, arresting her monologue. “Everything looks great Par. That’s still my favorite brand of apple juice, mom always buys it just for me.” She looked at Isra. “Can I bring some of those nana nummies to bribe your kids into liking Auntie Jade?”

“Sure!” Isra chuckled, “I think they’ll appreciate that. So, are we ready to go?”

The others nodded their agreement, and the group headed back out to meet Rhys and the kids for dinner in the park.

For those that don't know, Wren was originally Anna from The Lemon Legacy series written by Bunbeeplays over on Twitter.

The story of Wren's (nee Anna) exodus to my save was a dark tale involving her reckless husband Calvin. He wronged a very powerful and dangerous man with some unwise investment decisions. Not safe from that sims vengeance anywhere in their homeland, in desperation the couple turned to a dark magic that would send them worlds away, with no clear path to follow.

The danger and uncertainty inherent in the process prompted them to leave their young son Jaden in the care of friends.

Upon arrival in my save the LGBTQIA+ mod had Anna questioning her gender identity and she discovered she was non-binary. They divorced Calvin and had another baby, Isra, on their own using IVF. Quite recently in bunbeeplays save Jaden came to the realization that they were transgender and came out as Jade.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[buffalojournal]

Two Poems by Morgan L. Ventura

A Brief Synesthetic History

When I look around it could be said we are living in dark times, the walls & skies & sea & clouds & spaces within me, obsidian smoke, pitch tar, pooled oil. It tastes of ash & petrol & mould & the edge of a boiled knife & I hear the whooshing whooping of distant stars – black holes – ebony arias bending, twisting vibrations. What’s true is I want brighter times, amber & magenta times, spirals of smiling roses & giddy peonies, & detonations of laughing citrine. Times that carry the blush of wisteria, caramel popcorn, earnest eucalyptus. I was born in green times – aventurine smiles & verdant yards blooming viridian jewels, emerald & jade hanging from low branches, wistful and content. The 80s rainforest transmutes blue. Periwinkle times, the 90s breathed cornflower winds and bluebell gales, husked sapphire on metal plates, glimmering robin eggs on cedar porch chirping an unearthly jingle piercing aquamarine eyes of my father who knew only sadness. The sky only spoke rain, it was falling sea, shredded wave, lacerated labradorite, cascades of troubled cerulean. Shocked like glaciers arguing, raging because all’s spilled into red. A time of crimson, furls of fuchsia in the tide of blood after flames across New York, after strikes in Chicago, after death in the family. The 2000s were carnelian, lay the bead beneath my tongue, the rubies on my eyes, enshrine me in magma, encrust me in this livid tomb. Vitrine of vermillion, what is a body but stained glass, medieval sun never modern. The next era’s violet, arched, mutilated candy blossoming from irises in the back. In the evening light it all shivers purple, bruised lilacs yammer & portend a luminous love. Amethyst troves in the attic squirm & emit warmth, simmering with snapdragon & grapes, pisco vineyard from a decade ago, time punctured by lazy lost lagoons. Take me now into what seems like blank times, off-shades of pale peeling into crystal pears & glass shards as we wait, & the iridescent soul in the body of the future, the cloud high above spitting quartz & splitting mirrors, declares these are rainbow times, & I have to tell you, I love all the colours, I want all the colours. World, let me bathe in your prisms & drink your light. This marbled soil, this striated sky. I’d be no one & nowhere without.

 Internal Monologue of an Anthropologist in Paris

i.

My mother said if I fail on my new adventure I can live in her closet.

My French roommate has shit in my bed after having a midlife crisis at 29.

On television I look like an idiot. Even smart, floral blazers from the 10th Arrondissement make me look like a cartoon character because I’m very small.

They want to hire me as a curatorial fellow at the Musée du Quai Branly but then I have to stay here and oh, how I know the Parisians suffer.

Every Thursday there is a voracious vacuuming in the flat above me at 6am and I am suddenly murderous. I strike the ceiling with my broom and the ceiling strikes back.

ii.

My life is an Antonioni film. At the Sorbonne, I’m asked to describe my unwritten doctoral thesis in front of four medieval historians and a self-proclaimed spiritualist who spends most of his time at Père Lachaise by the grave of some important figure whose name I can’t remember. I whirl around in my seat and quip, “It is about nothing with precision.”

iii.

The community in Oaxaca wants me to ask the Mexican government to return the collection it stole but I’m merely an anthropologist, when did we ever hold power?

Margaret Mead was barely 5’0” and carried a walking stick taller than herself, which she’d use to intimidate men. That’s power.

I’m invited by the History Channel to appear on Ancient Aliens after my undergraduate advisor, a certain Mayanist, declines and thinks it would be hilarious to give them my personal email. “We will pay you $300,” they tell me. I think seriously about it.

Pseudoscience is absurd but my life is absurd. My next-door neighbour smokes cigarettes naked while his parrot shits on the patio. A colleague informs me they irrationally hate my surname.

“Would you like a career in anthropology?” my PhD advisor asks me after I tell him about the invite. This, coming from a man whose faculty headshot features him sacrificing a chicken.

Anthropologists don’t deserve careers, I think. But I sure enjoy all the grant and fellowship money, society’s conviction that we are worth something because “we are scientists.”

I don’t want a career, I conclude.

iv.

Over lunch in the EHESS cafeteria, my friend says everyone here complains too much and that the Parisians are insane and create their own chaos.

My brother texts me because my mother is in jail. She should stay there.

I go for coffee with an artist in Le Marais. The owner comes out to scream at all of us who dare to use their laptops and take up too much time – or space.

Claude Lévi-Strauss helped found UNESCO. Franz Boas died in his arms. Claude’s a structuralist and I despise structure. Will I die in the arms of anyone?

When Bronislaw Malinowski died, we all found out that he was a pervert. His field notebooks were festooned with scribbles of his interlocutor’s boobs.

“Anthropologists are very interesting, no?” asks the barista I’ve befriended at perhaps the most hipster café I could find.

I don’t know, are we?

Am I?

[deadweightwritings]

A NIGHT OUT [snippet]. TFR SERIES. policeoc!xdamien/darkiplier

SLAM.

A duo of people directed their attention toward the noise. Joe was surprised she didn’t break the car windows from the ricochet, she stormed over to the trunk of her car and opened it, swinging a shotgun over her shoulder, and tightening the holster under her arm. She made her way to the trio.

“Evening.” She said as a greeting and Abe stepped forward,

“Alright, so here’s what we’re doing—” “What are we doing exactly?” Joe eyed the French door opening, semi-paying attention to Abe.

“Investigating.”

“Abe, just say we don’t have a solid plan. Just don’t stray too far from anyone. Though everyone but Abe knows these grounds well enough to not need a map.” Her gaze switched to the staff of the manor, who nodded and Benjamin didn’t hide the fact he was an anxious mess being back here. The chef’s face has a hint of contortion as is someone spat in his face. Though he always did.

“You guys alright?” Benjamin nervously smiled and nodded at her whilst the chef grunted, straightening up. Yeah, everything is grand. Amidst her inner monologue, a loud BAM echoed through her eardrums.

Abe had kicked the fucking French doors in.

“Great, now all of LA knows we’re here, Abe.” She sighed through her teeth, following the group ahead into the manor. It was eerie, being within the walls of past highs and lows of her life. Gearing her eyes to scan every inch of the front entrance, she realized Abe had dragged Benjamin with him down the hallway, and the chef zoned in of checking on his beloved kitchen.

So, there she stood in the middle of the cold marble floor by herself.

She soon reared the corner into a large open room, high ceilings and windows complimenting sleek walls. Her gut felt uneasy to be back in this place, where she’d almost been killed by the man she cradled after a suicide attempt. The memories clawed at her, begging to be opened and seen in her mind’s eye. Though only slivers shone through, and Joanna paused.

There was someone else with her.  

Calling out ‘who’s there’ seemed out of the question, but she felt the fate of her life was in danger by this presence. Her head tweaked around, back and forth to scan the room and she found nothing. No one. Her hand snaked under to her knife holster under her arm, inside her coat.

“Do you intend to harm me?” Joanna nearly shrieked at the sudden voice and no moment detected for someone else to be there. Her arm jolted to throw the knife at what she saw in her peripheral. And what she saw, she wished she hadn’t.

The knife stuck into the wall next to the figure. And then, silence. Jade met charcoal. But, he doesn’t have black eyes. Joanna’s stomach twisted, bile wanting to expel from her body to cleanse it from the stress of this situation. This man had a pressed ebony suit on with a matching long tie and misshapen hair. This man had grey tinted skin that was doubling before Joanna’s very eyes, and the clashing colors of cherry and cyan made her head pound. This man had the face of someone she once loved dearly, though she knew it was not the same person.

“I know who you are.” This startled Joanna. Her steps faltered, standing with her fists at her side.

“Who…are you?” The hoarse, damaged voice that seemed to echo out of her mouth reached his ears, and surprised him.

“I’m not sure. Do you happen to know?” God fucking knows at this point.

“…No. N-Not in th-the slightest.” The stutter in her voice was horrid in Joanna’s opinion, she had never been so conflicted mentally and physically in her life. The figure tilted his head at her response, but she couldn’t tell if it was out of confusing or distrust of what she had said.

“You are…Joanna.” The halt in his speech made her doubt him for a second and Joe did not think she'd carry a conversation with him further.

“Yes. How-How do you know that?” She had wished someone would find her, call for her to break what she was experiencing. The man shifted on his feet, trying to make sense of her facial structure. He knew her name, her face, though he didn’t know where she’s from in his memory. The feeling of nostalgia floods him but it means absolutely nothing to him. Just who is she?

“I don’t know.” Joanna scoffed, changing her gaze to the massive mirror on the wall, cracked from the middle outward. She saw a woman who was baffled, heartbroken, and furious. Too bad she was looking at her reflection.

“Joe! Where are you?” Abe’s booming voice echoed out from outside her filed of vision and her head swerved back to the man before her. Who was gone.

“God…Fuck!” Joanna whispered under her breath as she practically power walked out of the room toward Abe’s voice, wiping sweat from her forehead. His broad shoulders came into her view and she was thankful to see him,

“What the hell were you thinking, exploring like that?” His eyes held fear more than anger at her disappearance from the rest of them. Joanna rubbed at her eyes with her forefingers.

“I couldn’t tell you, detective. I’m here now so let’s continue.” God, she wishes this night was over before it even started.

What do you think?

[raptorwithink]

A Penny For Your Troubles

Don was relatively quick to make friends with Hiroshima Shinji, a nogitsune who lives in NYC in a human disguise. When Shinji lets it slip that his "uncle" is the head of the criminal organization that Don and his brothers have been butting heads with increasingly freaquently in the past months, Don gets an idea. A stupid idea that could drive the rift between him and his family further, but nonetheless an idea that might work.

This short story takes place in the same "universe" as 'Gashadokuro'. It functions as an introduction to the 'Jade Foxes', a major supporting group in the comic (or an antagonist, depending on how you view it)

In his yokai form Shinji was about a head taller than him. Don, who normally walked with a hunched back, found himself straightening his whole posture to match the gaze of his red-tinted friend.

“I just want to talk to them.”

“Yeah yeah it’s just…” Shinji muttered back.

With one leap over a blue, sapphire-brick fence the two made their way from the Hidden City back to New York. Tho this was no Broadway. It was a desolated, dead-end back alley somewhere at the outskirts which Don felt he somewhat recognized, just didn’t quite place.

“It’s what?”

“Well, we have a particular relationship with humans and… I’m just not sure where you fall on that scale, you know.”

Don did not enjoy Shinji’s reservedness. But his opinion should not really matter. With the growing unrest among Yokai of New York, his personal “genus-project”, and the T.C.R.I undoubtedly searching for their escaped subject, the “Jade Foxes” could provide an useful ally.

“Okay. But I am going to talk to them. And if they tell me “nadda” then it’s clear.”

Shinji stopped, layed a paw on his companion’s shoulder and yanked the turtle to face him.

“Some things you gotta know. My peers are a lot like you - in a way - so, like, talk to them like you’d talk to yourself. I mean with respect and reserve and cunning and smarts. Don’t get too simple, talk just as complicated as you want. We’re not dumb. And you’re on their turf. Also, only speak when you’re spoken to, or told to speak. And bow. We’re keeping the traditions alive here.”

Don nodded, to give a break to Shinji’s rhythmical yet almost militaristic monologue.

“Whatever you’re here for, you are not making a “deal”, not in the traditional sense. Absolutely not. You have nothing to offer. If you had, they would’ve taken it already. To suggest otherwise is an insult.”

Now Shinji stopped gesturing with his other hand and laid it on Don’s other shoulder. The pressure felt heavy, giving weight to Shinji’s next words although Don did not fully comprehend what they implied.

“You do not want to insult Shunō.”

Don nodded once again.

“You got that?”

“Yeah”, he muttered.

A jog through a gutter under a bridge and past a long-abandoned bus stop. What Shinji has led them to was something of an inner court, fenced by empty apartment buildings and a wall of an empty factory or a storage unit, all of dark red and black bricks. Movement on a low-hanging balcony, second or third floor. It was a round-faced fox, bright orange, with a white button-up giving them a human-like appearance. Upon being spotted they quickly stepped back in the dark of the run-down apartment. Another fox was sitting on a makeshift wooden chair in front of one of the houses. He was darkly coloured, with rust coloured crescents along his cheeks and smoking a small, old-looking gombangdae.

“Whos’at?”

Shinji bowed his head slightly to the black fox.

“My friend would like to have a chat with us.”

The fox bit his pipe and growled quietly under his breath. He stood up from his post and stuck his paw inside a small split between two buildings, which could not be larger than ten inches wide, and knocked on one of the walls.

“Let's get in”, Shinji proclaimed, and stepped forward to the beat of a click of his tongue.

In some unperceivable way he disappeared into the shadow between the two apartment buildings, and Don had no other choice than to follow. The black fox snickered at him.

“Well, if this is some sort of test to keep people away…” Don thought, “You Foxes got to try harder”, and stuck his left foot into the crevice. Against any and all rational grasp of reality and physics he found himself walking down a dark stone path, with the walls slowly growing and morphing like trees into a hall with curved walls and lightened up by oil lamps. Shinji was now standing few steps in front of him, yet peripheral, giving Don a change to see the whole room. There were three other foxes, all wearing similar jackets to Shinji: black jackets with the symbol of a small canine skull on the shoulders and one similar on the back, but this one surrounded by six, what seemed to be, tails. At the end of the room hanged a doorway closed up by a heavy, dark green curtain. Light brown fox with a white stripe from their snout to their forehead was the first to step towards them.

“What say, Shinji.”

The voice was sharp and high-note, like a breaking of a glass.

“A friend of mine is asking for a colloquium.”

The fox circled to Don’s side, sniffing the air around him. This was way too close to Don’s liking, with the whiskers pricking his neck, but he did not dare to move a muscle. Who knew what this gang of vulpines had on their mind if an outsider were to step out of line.

“Smell of a human…”

The light brown fox turned to his comrades, sending pure ice pulsing through Don’s veins.

“... not too much, not too bad.”

Ashen-red fox with no white to speak of spit out: “Talk then.”

Don was startled up, but quickly gained his composure. He kept his hands tight around his bo, tapping his claws on the metal surface to give his body something to focus on.

“I am aware that my brothers caused a disturbance to a small-scale operation a while back, but I myself have great respect for your organisation. As I have understood you are a notable player not only in the city but the whole state, which I respect greatly. My wish is to perhaps show that respect in a way that could be beneficial to both of us.”

The greyish fox blinked slowly, indicating that what he had heard was at least not offensive.

“Thank you, s-” Don started, pausing and looking up at the older fox.

“Dong-Soo”, the ashen fox replied.

“Dong-Soo San”, he said with a deep bow. Dong-Soo seemed to contemplate on their visitor’s situation for a second, with bright orange eyes coldly staring at the young mutant before him. With a flick of a tail Dong-Soo disappeared behind the green curtain, and after a couple more seconds emerged with a large white fox beside him. They whispered and muttered something inaudible and unvoiced to the white fox’s ear. The white fox, with their brown eyes that were not at all warm like most eyes of that colour, but cold like the Siberian tundra, stared down at Don from the other side of the room. The fox stood there in grave-like silence for a moment and disappeared back behind the curtain. Another couple of seconds, and the white fox hastily marched back and whispered something equally silent to Dong-Soo. His eyes widened with seeming disbelief, and the white fox disappeared again. With a flick of a finger Dong-Soo called the third fox, a sandy and matted one, to them and laid the fox the information with the same silent whisper. Something about this whole ordeal greatly distressed Don. He needed to know what was happening but nothing about any of this mapped on to any of his past experiences. The silence, and the seeming ambivalence in every action the inhabitants of this room took, could become unbearable if he had to face them for much longer. The third fox muttered something to Shinji’s right ear. The voice did sound like English, but incomprehensible, made of whines and yelps, with a throaty growl seeping under the breath in the place of some phones. Just like Dong-Soo, Shinji’s eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise.

“What is it?” Don whispered.

Shinji swallowed the piece of ice blocking his throat.

“Ginrou-Sama wishes to see you himself.”

Walking through the curtain felt more like walking through a wall, the heavy velvet pushing back and down like a tidal wave. On a simple wooden chair sat a tall, rugged, brown fox with greying muzzle and cheeks, strong brows, and piercing, deep set eyes. A gilded dagger gleamed along the constant dance it was trapped in with the claws of the old fox-spirit.

“Kami-Sama wishes you to talk”, grumbled a voice from somewhere in the shadows of the edge of the room.

“Well, like I’ve said before, I believe you, as in your… group… are capable of great things, and I greatly appreciate the efficiency of your work. I am not too bad myself, but there are things I can’t really go up against. I am not asking for protection, no, that would be kind of overstepping any boundaries but, what I am looking for are actions which could benefit both me and you. “You” as in both your group and you yourself.”

Through the whole time Don spoke Ginrou kept staring him dead in the eye and flipping the dagger from one hand to another in an almost meditative, neverending motion. When he stopped, Ginrou’s golden dagger came to a halt in his left paw.

“Aki.”

Ginrou blinked, his eyes softening somewhat. The white fox stepped from the shadows next to his Shunō.

“Aki, tell Dong-Soo what he should tell this young turtle to do. If he wants to, that is.”

Ginrou turned back to his visitor.

“You speak well.”

Don bowed deeply, just like Splinter had asked them to do when they were younger and before he had lost the interest in keeping them under Hamato-discipline.

“Thank you, Ginrou-Sama.”

Ginrou swung his dagger with a loose flick of his wrist.

“Now off my court, turtle. Don’t keep Dong-Soo waiting.”

The fox with a round face and white reaching up to his cheeks lifted the small, stone Maria with the sides of his palms, leaving Don’s hands holding only the white cloth it had been wrapped in.

“Well, you don’t just get through a museum without the sbirro of both cities coming after ya, sì?” the fox yapped cheerfully.

Only response he got was a small nod from Aki-san.

“Here”, said Ginrou, and flicked something in the air with his left thumb.

Instinctually Don catched it, and felt the cold heaviness of metal against his palm. He looked down and saw a large, unidentifiable coin laying in his hands.

“A penny for your troubles.”

Don could not really understand the exact meaning behind the gift, but something in Ginrou-Sama’s voice told him that what he had started with the Jade Foxes was something special.

[wheezecheese]

Dear Tumblr,

Should I write a Deryn x Alek high school au fanfic? Or is that too cringe even for this hellsite? If I do write it should I post it here?

[homestuckreplay]

Pagecount: Over 900

(page 886-902)

With 17 pages, 11/22/2009 is the longest Homestuck update by number of pages to date. It contains not one but TWO huge story developments: the ominous planet and the Peregrine Mendicant.

Ominous Planet

Just as WV told us, the ominous planet is bright purple and lies ‘beyond an impenetrable veil of darkness’ (p.704/886).

Dad is here!! I think a lot of the sudden character transitions in Homestuck actually make sense – we went from John thinking about going into his dad’s room, over to Dad himself. He barely appeared in Act 2, getting kidnapped by the imps at the start and breaking out of his trick handcuffs at the end, and now he easily bests them. Clowning is a physically demanding pursuit so Dad must be well in shape beneath the business clothes, because he launches one imp right through the wall.

We also meet an imp security guard (?) who’s wearing similar but more intricate harlequin gear.

They’re watching Dad fight the imps and somehow also watching John battle the ogres, through a pair of windows similar in design to ‘one of [Jade’s] GRANDPA'S more mysterious inventions’ (p.790), the freestanding window on Jade’s gadget table. There is apparently no end to the number of people watching John.

He looks kind of familiar. On page 833, we’re introduced to the full Midnight Crew as the sky switches from blue to bright purple. And comparing these face shapes and designs side by side, these two characters feel like they could have something to do with each other. They’re both really angry, as Spades Slick’s answer to everything is violence, and this new guy refers to the other imps, John and Dad, or both as ‘graveyard stuffers’ (p.891). It’s the only text we get in relation to the character. The narrator apparently has nothing to add and no witty comment on that thought of theirs. There’s then a quick cut where seeing the next page title ‘You are now…’ suggests that we’re about to become this guy, but we instead suddenly become-

Peregrine Mendicant

THE MAIL HAS ARRIVED. Mail, packages and deliveries are a recurring motif – there have been several important colorful packages, several envelopes containing discs, and now there is a letter to Dr. David Brinner, ATTN: SERIOUS BUSINESS. Serious Business is of course the messaging client that Dad uses to keep in touch with his troupe, and we just returned to Dad in the story, so is this finally the moment that wellPressedAttire or officeurchin1280 take their starring role in the narrative? It’s definitely a person in John’s neighborhood but not Dad himself, as we’ve seen the insides of the Egbert mailbox.

PM’s mail based tirade (p.894-896) is of course reminiscent of WV’s mayoral calling (p.686) and PM’s adoption of the hat is just like WV making their sash. So there’s something to say about these chess pieces arriving at these Skaian bunkers and immediately adopting an institution of society as critically important. Both PM and WV’s monologues read as very idealistic, imagining these overly simplistic societies that function like textbook diagrams, as though they know about these things from books similar to WV’s Human Etiquette tome and have never been part of an actual human society. Comparing the two, WV’s monologue feels more peaceful, as it’s focused on everyone getting along, mutual respect, civility and a kind leader. PM talks of soldiers, a crusade, defenders and hope among the ashes; it’s far more violent and adventurous, and feels more grounded in harsh realities even while it maybe overestimates the mail’s capability.

Which is not to criticize the mail or PM’s speech, because I think they’re both great. I agree that mail is very important, highly underappreciated, and I think it’s beautiful to explore an empty wasteland and to think ‘if there are any people left here, I need to make sure they can communicate with each other’.

Looking stylish in their new hat, PM loads their terminal and tries to greet Jade the same way WV commanded John. Jade is already covered by a lot of green static, but it appears to be snowing where she is, with flakes and drifts behind her. Which is weird in itself, because Jade is close enough to the equator that a quick search suggests it wouldn’t snow in her area no matter the time of year, especially not with the geothermal power near her house. But it gets weirder, because when John resisted a command he just felt frustrated and got a headache as he tried to ignore a weird voice in his head. When Jade resists a command, she apparently blows up the command station with lightning that she transmits through time and space. Yet another way that Jade is weirder and more powerful than the other characters.

> PM: Sacrifice yourself to save the mail.

[thesunshineriptide]

Twst boys reacting to you doing this pose

Ace:

He isn’t sure what you’re doing, but he does it back. He thinks maybe it’s a new magicam prank and he wants to seem cool. If you do it to him repeatedly, he’ll probably just laugh at you over time

Deuce:

“Oh? Do you want a hug?” Immediately you are being hugged. If this was your goal, great! If not…oops? If you do it to him repeatedly, he will continue offering you hugs

Trey:

Stares at you before looking away. He pretends not to see it. If you do it repeatedly, you will eventually get him asking what you’re doing. He will not understand and will make no attempt to understand

Cater:

Does it back, no questions asked. He will do it back whenever you do it to him, and sometimes even initiates it, seeing if you’ll do it to him

Riddle:

“Stop that. What are you doing? This is unseemly, I demand you stop at once.” He doesn’t like it, he doesn’t know what it is, he just knows that it’s improper. He’s making headway in being lax but he will absolutely not tolerate this kind of silliness. If you do it repeatedly, you will get collared.

Leona:

He doesn’t really pay any attention to you doing it. If you do it repeatedly, you may get varying reactions from being ignored, laughed at, or picked up from under the armpits and carried around. Depends on if you’re interrupting something or not

Ruggie:

He understands and does it back immediately. If you do it repeatedly, you might get him to do it back but it’s honestly a 50/50 chance because he might be busy

Jack:

Doesn’t understand, also thinks you want a hug. Doesn’t ask, just ushers you into his arms. If you do it repeatedly, he may or may not notice as a whole? But he will silently offer you a hug.

Azul:

Hates this. Stop making yourself bigger, it’s threatening. He won’t do it back, but he does feel the urge to. Probably tells you to knock it off. If you keep doing it, he’ll probably just sigh and ignore it

Jade:

Unsure what this means. He’s not sure if you’re being silly, wanting a hug, or trying to start a fight. Probably just looks at you with his “you’re so stupid, this is adorable” face and continues working. If you keep doing it, he will eventually figure out what you want, but won’t indulge in it just to annoy you

Floyd:

Every time you do this, you are asking to be manhandled by Floyd. He might squeeze you (nicely?) or pick you up and carry you around, or he might do it back. If he’s in a bad mood, he will glare at you and tell you to scram.

Kalim:

He thinks what you’re doing looks fun and immediately joins. You now have a partner in crime, because Kalim starts doing it to you, to Jamil, to other people. He’s a menace. You have no option but to do it repeatedly

Jamil:

He hates this and wants it to stop but won’t say anything. If you do it repeatedly, he might begrudgingly do it back exactly once. You have to gang up with Kalim to do that though

Vil:

“Stop. You look stupid.” Another person who isn’t a fan and wants you to please not. If you do it repeatedly, he will literally just corner you against a wall and try out one of his old villain monologues to see if it’ll scare the piss out of you. You won’t do this repeatedly

Rook

“Excellent form! Beautè! Bravo!” He’s a fan of you doing this. Probably won’t do it back, but he will support you doing it. If you do it repeatedly, he might join you once when you’re doing it to someone other than him

Epel:

Does it back, no questions asked. Will continue your conversation completely normally, all while posed the same way as you. If you do this repeatedly, he might end up doing this specifically to piss off Vil

Idia:

Will do it back, so long as you’re alone with him. If you do it in front of someone (like at board game club or something) he’ll just flush and try and hide in his jacket. Unless it’s exclusively with Azul, which he will gladly do it with you so he can watch the octopus loose his shit. If you do it repeatedly, he will begin amping it up slowly by turning on kazoo covers of meme songs.

Ortho:

Doesn’t know what you’re doing, but Idia does it too so he’s joining. In your antics with the shroud brothers, at some point you will recreate this meme. Idia uses it as a react image on discord

Malleus:

Doesn’t understand, will never understand, but dragons do something similar when either starting a fight or attracting a mate. He’s both flattered and offended, and will do it back exclusively to see how you react. When you smile at him, he starts thinking you’re dating. If you do this repeatedly, he might ask you to meet his parents.

Lilia:

His response is to t-pose. He’s seen the youth stuff he’s hip with the kids. If you do this repeatedly, he will literally follow you around t-posing. You will end up birthing two memes at nrc

Silver:

He’s not paying any attention, he’s half asleep and annoyed. If you do it repeatedly, he will probably eventually ask you what you’re doing. Might do it back, but only when you’re alone (he will show up to your dorm, do this pose in the doorway, then wordlessly leave)

Sebek:

He gets angry and starts yelling at you about the indecency. Reaction very similar to Riddle, except Riddle had the authority and power to fuck with you while Sebek is just annoying. When he finds out that Malleus is happy with this, he will stop yelling at you but will still quietly hate it

[vitaegratis]

Not wanting to mess up Chrissy’s hair with head scritches, Eddie instead ‘settled’ for a tight hug once she had finished her twirl. Monologue as he may, Eddie struggled to find the words to sufficiently articulate how Chrissy made him feel,what she meant to him… even now - a year and some months into their relationship. He wasn’t sure he really ever would. Going back to that afternoon in the forest behind Hawkins High, she had gone from near tears - to giggling. She had gone from fearing from her life, to feeling safe, and it was because of him. It was still surreal to think about. When it came to the Vecna of it all? He hadn’t exactly been brave - he hadn’t seen what she had, but what he did see? Scared him out of his gourd. The fact the music snapped her out of the trance? It was honestly happenstance. Yet he still knew that she’d argue it was him who saved her. Point out how she wouldn’t have heard the music if she hadn’t been there in the first place, if he hadn’t been willing to help her.

Something Eddie wasn’t sure she fully grasped still, was that she in turn had saved him. Not that it was her job, or he had ever asked her to - but Chrissy Cunningham made him a better Eddie Munson. She had brought out a softer side of him that he had locked away and he hadn’t even let himself see. He had been… not cruel, but an asshat. He was a dork, a loser, and he knew it… yet he kept trying to convince everyone - himself included - that he was larger than life. Big and bad. He clearly was not. He was abrasive. He didn’t let people in, he alienated them. He was jaded, cynical. She reminded him what optimism - what hope - felt like. He cared about people, but how often did he show it? Until her. Until he couldn’t help it. After that… letting Wayne know how much he appreciated him, the likes of Dustin Henderson know that they mattered to him… it was less intimidating? Not that that had been intimidating. Admitting his feelings for Chrissy? That had been intimidating - but where everyone else was concerned? That was more a matter of… pride, really. Misplaced, and misguided.

She had been there till help him get over himself, though. Without even meaning to, she brought the walls, the masks down. She grounded and guided him… brought him home. He came across as dark, edgy, and loud - but was really a big goofball. She was light, sweet, and quiet - but more somber than she let on. They were each everything the other wasn’t, but maybe that’s why it worked. Opposites attract and all that, they were each what the other needed. In spite of the fact she couldn’t scold him, Eddie kept all these thoughts to himself - sparing Chrissy yet another monologue. Her first gift, unofficially. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. Today was never all that special to me, but now it is, and it’s all thanks to you. So. Thanks…” Kissing her forehead, he gave the go-ahead with both a sigh and a nod. “You.”

---☁︎｡⋆｡ "I'm excited that you're excited. You should be! Old geezer," she couldn't help but throw that taunt at Eddie. He was turning into an adultier adult. Older but.. Maybe not completely wiser. Standing in front of her boyfriend, hands clasped behind her back, Chrissy couldn't help but begin laughing at his antics. Prompted by his reaction she gave a small twirl to show off her outfit before he pulled her close. Maybe it was cliche as hell, but she loved just being close to him because she always felt safe. There was a time that she feared that Vecna may return and something may have happened to her, but not when Eddie was around. He chased it off somehow.

--- "You monologue a lot, but I can't scold you because it's your birthday," answered Chrissy with a sigh. She looked up at him with a smile on her features and reached up to brush his bangs to the side. "Wow. I like you, too. I'm glad we've been together for, like, a year and we like each other!" Chrissy was apparently gracing Eddie with sarcastic zingers for his birthday AND Valentine's. Luckily, she knew he liked it. "Honestly? It makes me happy to hear that you've been looking forward to your birthday and Valentine's. You deserve that," 'because you never had that' was left unsaid. Looking at the brunet expectingly, she waited for his reaction or even a go ahead for the first gift of the day.

[comicaurora]

I didn't realize levels of context and such was something I wanted to think/talk on until I read today's page so I decided I might tap you about it if it's alright. Basically, I didn't realize how much I missed everyone Not Being Under Active Pressure until this page. It felt as though something's been made right with the world seeing Erin 0 concealment or hesitation taking notes about Dainix, and what really struck me and got my wheels turning was how this perfectly normal behavior hits so different off the heels of all the weight and pressure and such that Erin and everyone else has been under than it otherwise would hit. Obviously the framing of the page has something to do with the effect I described, but this page feels unique in its requiring context to feel the full scope of the impact.

However, that thought then bounced off a thing that happened where a contextless scene hit me like a truck and demanded I write it despite me having nothing else to apply it to, and I still read it back and need no context to prove to myself that it is a very solid and effective scene in spite of it being like. Five lines and two stage directions. This sort of thing happens with me on occasion where I have isolated moments, single loaded scenes that seem as though they come from context, and yet the context not only doesn't exist but doesn't really need to exist, yet the way it's structured, you think there would surely be grander story context around the scene.

(Sorry I seem to keep giving you walls of contextualizing [ha] before actually getting to the question part) What I wanted to ask you was: What are your thoughts on the relationship between story context and individual scenes/moments in a narrative? The sort of ins and outs of a scene as itself and a scene as part of a story, and a story as a whole and a story as a chain of scenes that give one another context.

This is a fun question, because the need for context to make moments hit was initially something that really frustrated me.

Like many people, my storycrafting started with a big pile of out of context Yo That Would Be So Cool moments - sweet one-liners, fight scenes, big flashy powerups. And I liked the Big Moments from the shows I watched, and wanted to know what made them hit so hard so I could replicate that emotional punch. Was it the kickin' theme music? The determined monologue? The speed lines? The yelling??

And I came to the frustrating conclusion that it was all the slow, often boring setup that had come before the big moment.

The sudden reveal of a superpowered evil side means nothing if we don't know what that character is supposed to act like. A character drawing motivation from a dead loved one tells us nothing if we don't ourselves know and love the person they lost. A jaded, powerful warrior will seem generic if we don't know the fun-loving child they spent two whole seasons being. A character backed into a desperate corner will reveal untapped wells of heroism we can't appreciate if we don't realize how rare this is for them. Powerful moments are in some way carried by what happens in them, but in a much larger way are carried by the contrast between them and the story that preceded them. Stripped of context, all the moments I loved - all the TVTropes "Crowning Moments of Awesome" - were either mindlessly flashy or oddly underwhelming.

In order to make the moment hit, even if the moment was so much more fun and interesting than anything else, the writer had to write all the buildup and pace it out enough that it stuck with the audience, and the audience had to experience that buildup. It just wasn't possible to write a story that was one amazing thing after another without the amazing things losing more and more impact.

We're all on tumblr here, so I'm sure we've all experienced That One Person We Follow getting into some new media property we don't know about. They post mini-essays about why That One Bit With Character A And Character B Was So Powerful, gifsets of two people standing in a dark room captioned with "they were in love here 😍" and extremely well-made fanart of people you don't recognize in vaguely saint-like poses, sometimes captioned with something you think cannot possibly be relevant. This is fine, because you're not the target audience for that fan content. That's for people who already know what the fanart is about - it's essentially referential art that doesn't stand on its own to an outside audience.

But I want people to watch and enjoy the things I watch and enjoy so I have people to talk about those things with. And that means I have spent long hours trying to figure out how to explain to a skeptical audience why a story I liked was so good, and what made the awesome moments work. This is a huge part of the impetus behind Trope Talks, and why the in-depth examples I use always have context as a preamble. Without the context, the moment doesn't work.

If you think a gutpunch is just the moment the fist connects, you're disregarding the windup that actually makes it hit.

[zi-i-think]

Practicing

Pairing: Jade West x fem!reader

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 1800+

Warnings: mention of drugs

Request: no

AN: I know I’m still not done with requests, but I just really wanted to get in a Jade West oneshot. I don’t think Jade is out of character all that much, but I’d love feed back.

          Things sucked. Like. They royally sucked.

         When Beck and Jade broke up for the second time, it felt like a dark, ominous was looming over the group of talented teens. No one needed to be a genius to realize that both Jade and Beck with miserable. Not just because they were no longer together, but the breakup was emotionally draining.

         And despite it all, y/n couldn’t help but feel a little bit hopeful. She and Jade had been friends since middle school when Jade pushed a boy off his seat because he was bullying Y/n. They were pretty different. Actually very different personality-wise. Y/n was what Jade described as a hippie fairy. Which contrasted Jade’s vampire personality completely. 

         But there were just enough similarities to keep them together. Their hatred for the patriarchy. Interests in a feel-good green herb. They both started practicing Wicca together. And they were killer on the mic.

         It was a fine balance. 

         And over the years, Y/n couldn’t help but fall for the girl. Snarling personality and all. 

         She still recalls when Jade and Beck started dated. How at first she just thought she was annoyed at how Jade didn’t spend as much time with her but later realized that she was indeed feeling jealous.

         She knew it was terrible to be glad they’re no longer together, but she couldn’t help it.

         The first thing she saw when she approached her locker was the dark clothed girl waiting for her; standing cooly against the wall of lockers.

         “Morning.” Y/n greeted her with a smile. Jade hummed her greeting in response, waiting for her friend to get her things from the locker. “How you doing?” Jade sent her a glare, knowing that Y/n what trying to get her to talk about the breakup.Y/n mumbled a “nevermind” and closed the locker.

         “Do you have plans later?” Jade grumbled as the two started to walk to Sicowitz’s class.

         “Uh, yeah. I’m finishing up my script for my play.”

         “The one about the girl who turns into a dragon and then the prince who’s supposed to save her kills her on accident.”

         “That’s the one,” Y/n finger-gunner. “I’m trying to figure out how to make the finally really pull at the heartstrings.”

         “Make it gruesome,”

         “I’ll make a note of it.” 

         The class was already about to start by the time they entered and most people were engaged in their own conversations. Y/n saw Jade and Beck make eye contact. The same longing look on their faces. But stubbornness kept either of them from saying anything.

         “Hey, uh do you want to come over? Help me with the play?” Y/n asked, getting Jade’s attention again.

         “Sure. It’s not like I have any plans.” Jade shrugged before taking a seat upfront.

         Y/n smiled and took the seat next to her friend. A nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach grew as she already started to expect her friend’s arrival.

         “Good day, class!” The eccentric teacher barged into the room. “Your a pack or wolves engaged in a dance party!” He announced, prompting the teans to get up from their seats and act out the prompt.

         Knock Knock Knock

         The front door of Y/n’s house sounded. With a furrowed brow and her hair still wet, the girl opened the door revealing Jade with two coffees

         “You’re early,” Y/n stated the obvious.

         “Only cause I got bored. Now you want your coffee or not?” The dark haired girl outstretched her arm to hand her the tall cup.

         Y/n smiled appreciativly, taking the cup and stepping to the side.

         “Alright. So what does your play need?” Jade asked, already getting down to business. She walked straight to the living room and plopped herself on the blanketed couch.

         “Well, uh. It's mainly the last scene. Where the dragon turns back into a maiden and the prince realizes what he's done.” Y/n described, sitting next to Jade and grabbing the laptop from the coffee table.

         “Ah, so it’s angsty.” Jade smiles and leaned closer to Y/n to get a look at the document with the script.

         “Yeah.” Y/n’s voice cracked as she tried to compose herself over her friends close proximity. “So, I was thinking that once he realizes his mistake, he holds her close. I want him to have a monologue. Describing how he'd never get the chance to talk to her, see her, you know typical human relationship things.”

         “Alright so what's the problem?” Jade asked, not seeing why Y/n needed her there. Not that she was mad, she loved being around her. And truthfully, she missed hanging out and not having Beck in the back of her mind.

         “It just feels like it's missing something. You know.” Y/n said with a tinge of frustration in her voice. “Like. There's something that isn't making the plot complete enough for him to have that monologue. He loves her, but it doesn't feel like he does enough.”

         Without warning, Jade took the laptop from her lap.

         “I’ll read it.” she grumbled. “You go dry your hair or something.”

         “Good idea.” Y/n agreed, leaving the couch and beading back to her bathroom.

         “And order a pizza!” She heard Jade shout.

         It didn’t take long for Y/n to dry her hair and put the pizza order in. And by the time she got back into the living room, Jade was finished with reading over the script. Instead, she was now holding her new pair of scissors and examining the blades.

         “Figure anything out?” Y/n asked, getting the girl’s attention.

         “Yeah.” Jade put down the scissors and turned her body to face Y/n as she came in and sat down. “Your characters don’t kiss.”

         Y/n month dropped and she bit her bottom lip awkwardly.

         “Well, I was thinking about putting one in, but I thought it would be better if there weren’t one. Think about the symbolism behind it. Without the action, it’s expressing how the two never truly experienced being together.” She explained.

         Jade hummed and nodded as if she were understanding.

         “That’s stupid.” she said. Somehow both calmly and aggressively. Y/n furrowed her brow and tilted her head. Asking without words for Jade to go on. “Y/n the script is good, the storyline is paced well, blah blah blah. But the only thing that isn't good is the way you're presenting that they are in love. You want the audience to be heartbroken for the guy, show them that he loved her.”

         “Okay, so, where do you recommend it goes?” Y/n asked, grabbing the laptop and scrolling through.

         “Obvious. Scene 4, during the confession, I think after she falls from the tree.” Jade said. Y/n quickly went there and read it over, thinking about how to go about it.

         “You don't think it's a little fast?” Y/n asked, twisting her face as unsureness creeped into her mind.

         “Course not. You've already presented their infatuation for each other, and after that scene their relationship is already escalating more quickly. If anything it makes more sense.”

         She was right. Y/n knew it. But she couldn't shake the fact that having this discussion with Jade felt unreal. Perhaps because Y/n was crushing on her, but also because while Jade was very knowledgeable in entertainment, relationships were more of a ‘on the surface’ knowledge.

         Typing quickly the placement of the kiss, Y/n let out a heavy breath.

         “And it’s in.” She announced mainly for herself.

         “Good.” Jade nodded, now smirking at her friend. “You wanna see how it flows with the scene?”

         Y/n kept scrolling down the document to the ending, avoiding looking at the vampiresque girl.

         “Uh, ” She cleared her throat to avoid cracking her voice. “What do you mean?”

         “Well do the scene, me and you. As then you can make the final choice on whether you like it or not.” Jade explained casually.

         “Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

         Despite sounding calm and nonchalant on the outside, Y/n was screaming on the inside. Surely Jade wasn't actually intending on kissing her right? They’d work up to it and then stop, right? No kiss?

         “Cool, I'll be the guy and do you have it all memorized?” Jade started, grabbing the laptop and placing it on her lap.

         “Yep, it's all in my noggin.” Y/n knocked on her head awkwardly, receiving a disapproving look from Jade.

         “I’ll start at the beginning of the confession.” The dark haired girl announced, reading the lines. Then she looked up, right into Y/n’s eyes. “Tell me, Ayleth, do you feel what I feel.”

         “Why, I'm not quite sure what you mean, my prince.” Y/n continued, swallowing her nervousness.

         “When you look into my eyes, do you as well feel that fire? The one raging inside of your heart and coursing through you. Making you think illogically, wanting nothing more than to be consumed completely by you.”

         “One shouldn't think illogically. One must think about their duties, their-”

“That wasn't the question.” Jade acted, her usual roughness and anger dropped as she said her lines. “Do you love me?”

         “I suppose it would be unwise to try to divert the conversation.”

         “Most unwise. Especially to your prince.”

         “Well. Yes. I believe I do.”

         There was silence between the two. This was where the kiss was written. In the quiet, they both seemed to be questioning whether they would actually kiss or not. They both leaned in, slowly but surely. Y/n’s heart sped up and she wondered whether Jade was feeling the same. No, of course not. It's part of the scene. She's just acting, obviously.

         The inches between them soon turned to fractions of an inch. And their lips were so close to meeting.

         Knock knock knock.

         They were interrupted by the door. “Y/n pulled away immediately.

         “Pizza. I’ll get it.” She chuckled nervously and got up.

         “They can wait.” Jade said instead. She grabbed Y/n’s wrist and pulled her back down on the couch.

         Before Y/n knew it, Jade placed a firm kiss on Y/n’s lips. Though shocked, Y/n quickly reciprocated the kiss. Jade placed her hand on Y/n’s cheek, while the other girl’s hand went to Jade’s waist. By now, Y/n’s heartbeat was going a million miles per minute and both girls forgot about the person waiting at the door.

         Until they knocked again.

         “Give us a minute!” Jade shouted angrily before turning back to her, uh friend? Y/n was giggling at her rage over small things like that. Jade noticed not only that her dark blue lipstick had smudged onto Y/n’s face, but that she also had a deep red blush that covered her face almost completely.

         “Should we practice again?” Jade asked instead of bring it up. And when Y/n nodded, she didn’t waste another second to lean in again, kissing her with more depth than the one before.

[the-marsh-harrier]

Who was Orion Black? (Pt 3) Orion Black x Female!Reader

***WARNING - symptoms related to a panic attack are featured in this part just under the "Keep Reading" tab - it has been highlighted in red so if you don't want to read this part, please skip ahead***

A/N: I wanted to explore Sirius’s childhood more in a non-traditional sense and give Orion and Walburga some interesting character development. This takes place after Sirius has broken out of Azkaban. Although this is a reader insert in parts, it is not the main focus and some chapters will have little or no mention of the reader. I have also altered the year Walburga was born to be 1940 instead of 1925 as it states in cannon (this is my fanfic and I’ll do what I want with the characters that are in it). Similarly, in some of the chapters to come, I already know I will upset some people with the way I portray Sirius and Walburga’s relationship - remember everyone is entitled to portray fictional characters as they want in their fanfics and if you disagree, please write your own. JKR's bigotry and opinions are not welcome here nor supported.

Finally, I am hoping to get Part 4 out this week as well as a sorry for missing last week's post.

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 (Part 3) Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Sirius thought he knew who his parents were, but did he really? After returning to 12 Grimmauld Place after his escape from Azkaban, he uncovers secrets that he never would’ve imagined

The Elf, The Key, and The Pensieve

As the night dragged on, Walburga’s portrait eventually passed out with her face rested against the frame. The repetitive nature of her snoring droning on throughout the parlour drove Sirius out of the room. Sirius found himself lost within his drunken thoughts and questions. It was during this internal monologue that he found himself aimlessly staring down the hallway toward the front door. The more he focused on it the more the chatter and noise from the outside world seemed to grow louder, voices from the past that were encapsulated in the walls began echoing back at him, footsteps that once graced the stair of 12 Grimmauld Place creaked back to life… and then as if a song reaching its crescendo… it all stopped... nothing but silence. Pure, unadulterated silence spoke louder than it ever had to him before; and at that moment, that singular moment, Sirius realised that he was alone. He was alone. No one knew where he was, despite a very small select few but they didn’t come too often nor stay too long. They all had their lives, they had their houses full, they had their homes, they had their lives. They had a life that Sirius knew he would never be able to possess. The silence in 12 Grimmauld Place had never spoken to Sirius in this way before, so cruel and haunted; jaded with time and loneliness as everything held in within its walls became. There's a dark force that seems to suck the life from everything within its grip, so much so that even the silence could be disturbed by the house's own hideous nature.

A tightness began to take hold of Sirius’s chest as tears began to swell in his eyes. Was this all he was ever meant to be? Surely not. What sick prophet would lay out a life like this before him? The tightness in his chest only grew and Sirius found himself braced against the wall for some sense of steadiness. Pain shot through his core like a white-hot poker as all his limbs turned an odd prickly sort of numb. He felt hot and cold at the same time. Like up was down and down was up, like left was right and right was left, like the world was still and he was spinning out of control.

He found himself sliding down the wall until he hit the ground. His hands gripping opposite shoulders as his body began to rock and shake uncontrollable like his breath escaping his nose. Both of his lips were drawn into his mouth as he bit and chewed on them to achieve some level of comfort, but it didn’t come. The feeling of dread and anxiety only rose with each tear that he shed. He felt himself falling deeper and deeper into a pit of anxious thoughts until there was a new sound… it was faint at first but the more he focused on it the easier it became to breathe. It was the piano in his father’s study, a mere twenty feet away. A soft melody that was all too familiar and comforting at the same time. One of Orion’s compositions danced from the study; one composition that he had written for Sirius when he was younger titled Merci, Mon Fils in Db Major.

The song continued until Sirius could breathe and the physical pain subsided, but the tears continued to fall. It was as if a new wound ripped open within him that was patched over a long time ago. A rusted pipe that finally bursts through the layers of paint and plaster that he had used to disguise it. Flashing images of his father’s face looped through his mind; knowing he’d never hear his voice again, never watch him play the piano again, never hear him open the door to check on him at night before… before everything happened, and it got so much worse. Never hear his father’s barking laughter when Sirius got back from Hogwarts and told him about all the pranks he had pulled. As much as Sirius hated to admit it… he missed his father, he missed him more than he thought possible… twenty years of pain, resentment and mourning hit him… that was until he heard the piano again… and it was all replaced with rage.

The only living thing in this house, aside from Sirius, was that elf. How dare he play his father’s piano? How dare he manipulate a song that meant so much?

Blind, drunken anger carried Sirius toward the warm orange glow that framed the door to Orion’s study. The keys of the piano moved quicker and more furiously as Sirius got closer. Stumbling over his own feet like a crazed bull, he threw himself toward the door that was slightly ajar.

“Where are you?” Sirius hissed through gritted teeth. “How DARE you use my father’s study for your own sick amusement?”

Kreacher’s sobs could be heard emanating from under Orion’s desk. Sirius ran around the back of the desk and ripped the chair out from behind it as he bellowed “OUT HERE NOW!”

Kreacher managed to shimmy his way out from under the front panel of the desk so he could escape from his new master. “What have you been doing in here?” Sirius screamed as he watched the elf run under the piano stool. “Play me another tune! Get out and PLAY!”

“I didn’t do anything, Master! The piano played on its own. I was dusting the shelves.” Kreacher croaked from under the stool.

“Oh, yes! So believable!” Sirius’s voice was like venom. “Why that song? Huh? Kreacher! Why did you play that song?”

“I am only permitted to touch the piano to clean it, Master! Late Master Orion would not allow for anyone other than yourself to play his piano.” Kreacher justified.

“Oh, I see! I see what you’re doing! Very clever!”

“Late Master Orion cared deeply-” Kreacher was cut off by Sirius drunken screaming.

“You think the old git cared about you! You think he would save you! You think he would help you! He hated you! He hated you!” Sirius continued. “The only thing that man loved was a bottle! He never cared about you!” Sirius swept his arms across the copious shelves still filled with rows of bottles and decanters alike, so they’d shatter on the floor. He braced his arms against the shelving unit for a moment watching the broken glass roll across the floor before looking back up at the shelf when he heard a gentle clinking. The shelves were replenished as if brand new. A frustrated cry left Sirius and rebounded through the house.

Marching over the elf’s hiding spot Sirius began to interrogate Kreacher. “What is it about this room that you cling to so much? Huh?” Sirius booted the stool from over the top of the elf before crouching down and grabbing him by his cloth smock. “You hated the old git! He used to boot you round like a ball when he was drunk while I was here.” Sirius caught a glimpse of himself in Kreacher terrified eyes and what he saw made his stomach turn – the likeness was uncanny. You could think that a drunken Orion was staring right back at you and this knocked Sirius back to reality and made him drop the elf.

Kreacher retreated toward the door as Sirius seated himself on one of the plush, dark green velvet armchairs. His elbows rested on his knees; hands buried in his hair while his nails softly scraped against his scalp. Sirius began to wonder if his monologue was really about the elf or about himself. "Kreacher," Sirius called out more softly than he had ever spoken to him.

Whether it was out of duty, fear, or a mixture of the two; Kreacher's whimpers could be heard reapproaching the room but he did not enter, opting to remain in the door frame. “Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black. What do you require, Master?”

“I want you to answer my question.” Sirius exhaled before forcing his drunken eyes to focus on the elf. “Why do you cling to this room so much?”

“Late Master Orion used to play every night after Master Sirius left. Late Master Orion used to get Kreacher to sit on the stool next to him as young Master Sirius had and watch him play. Oh, how Master Orion cried for young Master Sirius when he left. Master Orion used to hug Kreacher, wishing young Master Sirius would return.”

Sirius was taken back by this but managed to whisper. “He did what?”

“Master Orion struggled greatly after you left, sir; he insisted that he couldn’t lose you, he was desperate to get you to return. The arguments between him and Mistress when you had been burnt off the tapestry were… so destructive and violent. It took Great Master Arcturus and Master Alphard to resolve the situation. Master Orion set the whole tapestry alight saying if his son was not welcome on the family tree then there should be no tapestry.”

Sirius did not know how to process this. “But the tapestry is still hung in the house, Kreacher. Do not lie to me.”

“Great Master Arcturus and Master Alphard made it anew. That is why there are so many skeletons on the tree where neither could remember the relative face. They burnt every member that was not deemed appropriate. The faces were scorn from the tree once more.” Kreacher finished. “Is there anything else you require, Master?”

“Yes, actually. There is one more thing. The tapestry doesn’t note Orion’s first wife, Y/N L/N. I wish to know why.”

Kreacher’s eyes bulged from his head. “Kreacher is forbidden to say those words.” Kreacher put forward his arm to display an unknown sequence of ancient runes. “If Kreacher does, he will die and no longer be able to serve the noble house of Black.”

“You will tell me, Kreacher!” Sirius banged his hands off the armrest and stood up making the elf flinch. Kreacher meekly entered the room, quickly darting behind the door to Orion’s coat stand and pointed toward Orion’s jacket pocket.

“Kreacher cannot speak it. However, there is another way to find the answers you are looking for.” Sirius stumbled to the jacket and felt the pockets. He felt something hard within one of them. When he reached inside, he found a small ornate silver key. “Perhaps, Master can show you himself.” Sirius turned to Kreacher to see him pointing toward one of Orion’s untouched bookcases where one solitary cigar box was placed. “As Master aged and his alcoholic affliction worsened, Master couldn’t remember his life very well, so he began to store his memories as to never forget them. Kreacher was to tend to them and ensure their safety for Master.”

Once opened, Sirius realised it was a miniature Pensieve; miniature was a stretch – the box had been charmed to hold a large number of memories from his departed father’s life. Sirius summoned the memories about Y/N L/N. This was one secret Sirius wasn’t prepared to let the Black family keep any longer. He had to know who she was and why she was so important to Orion. Why did Arcturus refuse to let anyone say her name? Why wasn’t she on the tree or at least scorched off? When did Orion marry Y/N L/N? Why did she die? How did she die? Was her death linked to the reasoning for the marriage between Orion and Walburga so rushed?

Orion’s choice of labelling was rather simple yet personal fashion, with each vial associated with the names of his work and date. For a second, it felt wrong to go through all of Orion's memories but how else would Sirius find the answers he needed?

Sirius charmed the piano to play through his father's best pieces which matched with the associated memory. “How better to get to know you, dad?” Sirius bitterly thought aloud. The piano began to play a beautiful cacophony of notes which form The First Dance in C minor.

Pouring the memory into the Pensieve, Sirius dove headfirst into his father’s life.

[mystreraes]

it's just a date, the woman reminded herself as she stepped out of her car and made her way through to the entrance of the address sonny had given her. you'll make small talk and flirt a little... maybe even get to make out with him and it won't be that bad -- her inner monologue continued on. it wasn't necessarily that there was nerves to calm, by no means was she outside of her comfort zone. she was however, totally over the monotonous routine of 'modern' dating. the incessant hookup culture and brains fried from too much swiping on dating apps meant real genuine connection was hard to come by. it's not like she was looking for anything serious but at the very least she wanted to be able to enjoy conversations with the people she hooked up with regularly. but even that seemed too much to ask for lately. it also wasn't even normally like her to say yes to a spontaneous date with someone who was a total stranger just fixing up her car, but here she was taking that chance.

her jade green orbs searched through the small pockets of people; friends, family and people on dates just like her all moving around with their putters in hand. when she finally spotted him, leaning up against the wall as he stared at her, all tall dark and handsome like that. "hey--" her full lips pulling up in to a smile as she reached him. "mini golf huh?" alicia started playfully, "i mean i haven't played since i was like eleven but i think i got a shot. as long as you're not like secretly a pro or something like that."

It might have been a bit odd, a grown ass man, who was nearly in his forties, taking out such a younger woman. Then again, he didn't look forty. And he thanked his mother every day for her genes. Still, Sonny knew, Alicia was probably far outside of his league. The woman had so much more options in her life. She could have the moon if she wanted it really, and here he was tethered down by a business that was only *just* in the black, and a twenty year old child. Looking around at the clearly younger couples, Sonny couldn't help but wonder what he was doing there. Truthfully. If he wanted to hook up with someone, there was plenty of women he could have gone to. Or simply picked up a woman at a bar. Yet here he was, asking this woman out on a real date. The thought crossed his mind to leave, stand her up and never see her again now her car was back. Maybe he'd loose a customer that way, but hey, better then him looking like an actual fool. That was when he saw her. It was too late to run, and seeing her again, erased the idea from his mind. Christ, she was far more beautiful then he'd remembered. Leaning against the wall a small smirk formed on his face on his face as Sonny watched the woman make her way to him. His dark eyes scanning over her as she did, but made sure to lot let his eyes linger too long on her body. Which was difficult.

@mystreraes