#OI THAT LADY WAS IN HORRIBLE HISTORIES

[vitamin-zeeth]

the gang

[pruneunfair]

Rashta and every other manhwa mistress/OI protagonist represents us in some ways.

In celebration of season 4 of TRE being released (dear God I'm not ready for it wish me luck) I wanted to talk about Rashta (I know, how many times have I made Rashta the center of my posts now at this point) But this time it isn't to critique the series or just unhinged ranting about things that annoy me.

Ive been reading a lot of remarried empress fanfics and of course there's are a few where a woman gets isekaied as Rashta, and usually, the isekaied woman gets on her knees and starts apologizing to Navier or showing horror everytime they get reminded that they were Sovieshus mistress, I also see a lot of comments on various videos saying "if I were Rashta, I would never steal Naviers man and become her loyal maid!" Or something along those lines. In general there's a lot of people saying that they would never be horrible and Navier would accept them as a result, but if we are being realistic.. Navier would not accept Rashta as her bestie no matter who was controlling her body, and even in an Au where she does, Rashta is her maid.. so even if Rashta hated Navier from day 1, what's she gonna do as a maid? Throw water on her cause that won't go well.

Now this isn't me saying "Oh Navier is so mean! She'd never look at a slave with compassion cause she's so classist!" It's what's realistic now that we aren't looking at it through the lense of a wish fufilment. Navier is an empress, an empress who was currently in a toxic relationship at the time, trying to warm up to her and shit talk Sovieshu to her is more then likely gonna make her feel just as uncomfortable when Rashta called her sister, because if you did do that, she'd probably respond with "why are you here then?" Or just a "alright.. please leave me alone now." Because your still her husband's mistress who she'd rather just not be around, and if we aren't considering that, she's still an empress who was raised with the kind of values youd expect: an exceptional leader and child bearer, considering that Navier too doesn't seem concerned with the slaves or even straight up poverty she wouldnt think it needs fixing because those were never values her teachers thought were necessary worries, only volunteery ones, and as empress Navier would be a little cautious and selective about her companions and ladies in waiting, this isnt just a fictional thing either, most empresses and queens in history didn't become friends with every fangirl she had. But there's tons of people today who believe otherwise.

Thats the thing, it's exactly what Rashta did, she put Navier on a pedestal and expected her to welcome her in with open arms and when Navier didn't do that, she immediately went to the conclusion that she hated her. Because a lot of readers only think of the main character as the best person, you get hit with a wave of betrayal when they do realistic human things which is another point in the AU where Rashta is sent to Navier and she somehow had the idea that Navier didn't need to go to the bathroom because she was so perfect.

And it's not just being her husbands mistress that will put her off, if you were just some stranger or even a noble who in the perspective of other nobles should know etiquette, you'd be looked at with contempt by many and yes while Navier would never do anything outright cruel to a stranger and maybe even have a conversation with one, there's a good chance she's not gonna wanna be best friends forever. So as a result, there'd be a good chunk of people who act like those super fans when their favorite celebrity won't give them an autograph: disappointment at best and down right hatred at worse. This is even a point I see in other OI when the ogfl isn't so perfect and the protagonist starts to dislike them for not being the picture perfect badass they thought.

While we all like say that we would never make the decisions of Rashta if we got isekaied as her, would we really? If you can then good for you cause you got some strong mental health there but for most of us, we'd probably be upset now that we are in another woman's perspective, a lot of people would feel angry that Navier isn't the mega goddess who would understand Rashtas situation if she spoke up, they'd be sad that Navier and Heinrey do have flaws that make them into actual people and not archetypes, and most of all, a lot of us would probably still end up on the path Rashta went on or anything similar since we would likely not know any etiquette beyond what we saw in bridgerton, there's a good chance too that the language in remarried empress isn't like any language in the world, and while you could just avoid characters like Duke Ergi (which i don't count on a lot of fans doing since hes a hot pretty boy) it'd be hard to find a happy ending as the villainess that doesn't result in your getting killed, kicked back out in the streets, or at best being kept as a breeding Mare. That's what Rashta is, she's a perfect example of what we think we would do Vs the likelihood of something more realistic and grim. Something that can bring the worst out of us if we felt wronged

Remember, this isn't me shit talking Navier or even the remarried empress in general, I just felt like I reached some sort of epiphany I wanted to share.

[yourbestpalpercy]

OI!! I have a work in progress

 Setting: Takes place after Splatoon 3

Idea: None of the villains die, just left in a bruised ego state/they retreated away. Yes, Tartar and Mr. Grizz are still around

Characters: Mother Finiona the Seahorse, Papa Clawlin the Japanese Spider Crab, August (their adopted, inked (allegory for mental disorder) stingray child).

Mother Finiona: Defensive and mother bear like. She’s protective of August to the point where she’ll, like- beat up anyone who even looks at August wrong. She’s a no BS lady despite her size. Another thing, she sometimes invents and builds things! Actually, her child, August, often uses the ink bombs she made! They have deep red ink inside of them as not many species in Inkopolis have red ink so August can easily defend themselves if push comes to shove.

Papa Clawlin: He’s much more laid back but he likes August too. He gets a little embarrassed whenever Finiona goes off but…eh, she hasn’t killed anyone yet so..they’re a rather wholesome couple. Despite not having fingers, he’s been teaching August sign language for when they don’t feel like talking (don’t want to talk? Unsure how to phrase this tbh…)

August: No one knows where Finiona and Clawlin found them, they just know that they were involved in a horrible accident that left them inked and slower (mentally) than most kids. They don’t talk that much but they have a soft voice that’s hard to hear. No one knows if they actually have a stinger but no one wants to find out the dead way by making them angry. Their flap (yes, like a cobra) has been dyed from the inking/accident which results in strange, almost hypnotic patterns. No one wants to approach her either (in fear that the ink is infectious). She’s bad with faces.

Tartar: After failing to destroy Inkopolis, the consensus is that he died when Pearl’s ‘Booyah’ hit him. In reality, he jumped ship when he realized that he wasn’t going to survive if he stayed. As no one could find remains, most assumed he was obliterated. He’s retreated back down into the DeepSea Metro. August is actually learning about him now in History class! Another thing, he gets angry fast, resulting in blue-green slime leaking from him when he does. So far, he hasn’t attempted to destroy Inkopolis again. He’s in a…some form of a relationship with Mr. Grizz. He’s also anthropomorphized for this story too.

10,045

[the-neon-writer]

Fuck it, it may not be edited and it may change still, but here’s Cara’s Intro. She’s yet another character in my maybe novel that is coming along slowly. I may have not won NaNoWriMo but i still got further with progress. So i’m proud of myself. I have one more characters intro left to write. I promise it’ll be a good one when it arrives. In the mean time enjoy this as a special christmas treat 😉🎄😉

Cara’s Intro

She wasn’t sure where he had come from, but he was there nonetheless. The man had just appeared one day and decided to take care of her. What made it stranger was that people usually looked down on her because of the way she looked. But this man did not. She may have been young, but she knew how the world worked, the other street urchins had taught her that. She had to be smarter and tougher than the rest of them if she wanted to survive. He was different though, he didn’t seem to care about the colour of her skin, or what people whispered when they saw her with him.

It had taken some time to start trusting him and he had given her all the time she needed. The moment she knew she could trust him was her first full moon. She had no clue what was happening to her, she felt like she was being ripped to shreds from the inside out and she had no control over what was happening to her. They had been staying at a farmhouse on the outskirts of Dublin. He was in the other room and she assumed he’d heard her yell. She remembered seeing him rush in, sword in hand. She couldn’t control what was happening, it was like she was watching someone else control her body, but she charged towards him. All he did was just wrap her in a tight hug and whisper that it was going to be ok and that he would help her no matter what, that he would never leave her side as long as she needed him.

After that they grew closer, he was like an older brother that she’d never had in her life. He helped her understand what she was going through and patiently taught her to control the beast as best he could.

She had a purpose now, she was informing on people for him. People didn’t care enough to notice street urchins so she could slip into and out of most places without ever being seen. She spied on priests and gentlemen, ladies in fancy bonnets and young brats of rich families. She trailed them throughout the town and reported their activities to him. She wasn’t quite sure why she was spying on these people, but more often than not, she never saw them again. So one day she asked him why he was looking for those people. And he told her, that’s why she trusted him, he told her the truth if only she asked. She was angry and confused but he explained why these people needed to be eliminated, though, sometimes, on rare occasions, he didn’t eliminate people in the literal sense. A few times during the years, she helped him smuggle people out, making it look like they were gone permanently but really they were just removed from the equation.

He told her about The Council when she turned 12. That made her understand it a little better, why he killed the people he did and spared the ones he did.

“Now I don’t always agree with the council, but, I have to trust their judgment on most things. They’re family and I guess I’m sorta stuck with ‘em. I do have a noggin’ of me own though, and they’re not always as smart as they think they are. I’m tellin ye this so that ye can understand why they can never know ‘bout ya Cara.” That’s what he had told her, “I’ve seen that not all of ye are evil and mindless bloodshed sickens me, so I hope ya know that I’d never hurt ya. Do you trust me?” She had believed him, foolish, she now knew people always ended up hurting you.

The beast was growing with her and it was becoming stronger also. And not long after her 12th birthday, the beast spoke for the first time. It was just a regular day and she was out on the streets trying to nick whatever she could off the rich blokes and snobby arses who thought themselves so much better than her. She didn’t need the money but it made her feel good to get payback.

She’d just nicked a shiny pocket watch from a well-dressed gentleman when she saw a gang of other street kids approach her. She knew them since forever, she’d always managed to slip away right under their noses, but this time she was so enamoured with her find that it was too late when she noticed them.

“Whatchu got there girly,” said one of them, snatching the watch from her hands.

“Oi give it back ye thick gobshite, that’s my find,” she tried to snatch it back but the boy was taller.

“Or what, s’not like anyone’s gonna help you,” he looked her up and down disapprovingly and giggled with his mates.

“I suggest you give it back, boy,” it was a deep booming voice, with an accent so far from Irish it was startling.

“Oi who said that, show yerself ya flute.”

“If you insist,” Cara felt herself lose control again, this hadn’t happened in years even on a full moon, but she wasn’t trying to fight it this time. It lunged at the boy and she felt it sink its teeth into his neck and the life drain out of him with a horrible crunch. She remembered seeing the horrified looks of the other street kids and saw them start running for their lives. A pool of blood was forming next to her and she saw her reflection for the first time, only it wasn’t her, it was It. It was huge, with a long sharp muzzle and glistening black fur, its ears were pointed and its eyes glowed gold. It had a slender jackal like figure, yet it was bipedal and more muscular than any human or beast.

The next thing she remembered was the chase, following the kids into the night, not even trying to regain control, the taste of blood and revenge sweeter than honey in their mouth. It caught up to them quick enough, they were hiding in an alleyway, It could hear their frantic heartbeats and smell their fear in the air. The fear tasted sweetest of all, filling It with new vigour and jest to toy with its prey.

It approached slowly giving the brats hope that it couldn’t find them, it paced in front of their hiding spot and took off at a short run to make them think it left. It didn’t. It waited for a few moments as it climbed onto the roof above them. It was about to jump them and rip them to shreds when they heard a voice.

“Cara, please, stop.” And there he was, but he wasn’t comforting or jovial. He was holding a crossbow, and it was aimed at them. “I can’t let you hurt innocent people, no matter how much I care about you.”

They turned to face him, jaws dripping with fresh blood and it spoke, “They aren’t innocent, are they…”

“Fer fucks sake they’re children, Cara, listen to yerself.”

“I’M NOT CARA.” Its voice echoed across the rooftops and silence fell between them as beast and hunter stared each other down.

“Cara, please, you can control it.”

“Oh, I don’t think she wants to anymore!” Cara was in there, but she had no control, but she was no longer certain she wanted this. It all seemed wrong all of a sudden.

It suddenly shuddered and stepped back to keep its balance.

“Cara, think about all the good we’ve done, please don’t undo it all now.”

The creature shuddered again but its eyes glowed golden, brighter than the sun. It growled and the growl permeated the air around it and cut the silence like a knife. The shuddering stopped and it looked up at him. Then it charged, but he had been ready, he hadn’t been training to hunt monsters his entire life for nothing. Before it even took 2 steps he had fired the bolt.

It stopped in its tracks and fell forward onto all four. Cara couldn’t take back control even then, she was scared but there was nothing she could do. She didn’t want to die, not yet, not like this, not afraid.

She awoke again in that warm room with a fireplace. She wondered if it had all been a dream or if she had died and this was meant to be the afterlife. But then she tried to move and it was painful. Her whole body was racked with pain as she tried to lift herself into a sitting position on the couch. She must have made some noise because she then saw him enter. He had a dagger on him made of silver, it was sheathed, but she could smell the silver.

“Don’t move, please.”

She stopped trying to sit up.

“Look, I know it wasn’t your fault that it took over, I couldn’t’ve prepared ye fer that. Something like that has happened very rarely in history and the accounts were all second-hand experiences.”

“w-what,” was all she managed to say, her tongue felt like a useless stone in her mouth.

“Yer not the same as It. There’s two of ye now.” he sighed, he looked tired and sad all of a sudden and she could finally see the age in his eyes, he forgot to hide the pain that only comes with old age, it was there for only a second before it was gone like sunlight on a winter’s day.

”You caused a lot of trouble, Cara. I don’t know how long before they notice something off, but we definitely have to leave Dublin.”

”Y-you shot me,” she struggled out, her muscles weren’t being cooperative.

”Right, yes, in yer shoulder, wolfsbane, gives a nasty shock to the system. I wasn’t actually goin’ t’ kill ya, just wanted to scare you to your senses, didn’t account on It having a will aside yer own”

She looked at him but try as she might she couldn’t tell how he was feeling, she never could.

“Get some rest,” he said as he turned to leave the room, “We’ll have to leave in the morning.”

He closed the door behind him and Cara was alone again. She was so tired, every nerve in her body thrummed with fatigue, ”shifting” was a very physically tiring process she had noticed. Before long sleep overtook her, she dreamed of a moonless night being chased by a figure with a deep foreign voice that encircled her as she ran.

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: The Breath of Winter

Chapter 53 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3! In which the crew fight a dragon. A really, really big fucking dragon. 

Fun fact: In the two-odd years that I’ve been writing Dragon Age fic, I’ve managed to avoid writing a dragon fight until now. I HATE WRITING FIGHT/BATTLE SCENES UGH. I hope it’s okay!

Only an excerpt here (the chapter is ~8800 words); read the whole thing on AO3. 

********************

As soon as they stepped out of the Tevinter fortress, Cole appeared beside them. “She’s at the lake,” he said. “She’s turning the water into winter, icy with rage, reaching and ravaging, kill or be killed.” He blinked at Fenris with his big blue eyes. “She’s very angry, and so is he.”

“Great,” Varric said. “An angry spirit in an angry dragon. Always a winning combination.”

Fenris frowned at Cole. “Where on the lake?”

“Near the fishing camp,” he said. “I helped the fishermen escape. They’re safe.”

“Good,” Fenris said. “Let’s move.” He looked around at his companions. “What is the fastest way to get there?”

Blackwall frowned thoughtfully. “Back through Stone-Bear Hold, I believe.”

“It might actually be through the swamp,” Bull said.

“No,” Dorian said loudly. “No more of that damned swamp.”

“He’s right,” Fenris said. “We’re avoiding the swamp – too many wild beasts. We can’t afford to fight anything else along the way.”

Hawke laughed. “I suspect that’s not what Dorian’s complaint was about.”

Her tone was cheerful and light, and she was twisting her rings around her finger. Fenris squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Through Stone-Bear Hold, then,” he said. “Let’s go.”

They took off at a brisk jog, taking care to pace themselves and to preserve some stamina for the battle to come. For some time, the only sounds were their panting breaths and their pounding footsteps as they hurried to the Avvar settlement at a brisk but measured pace. But the silence was heavy and grim, and Fenris didn’t know how to break it.

Eventually, inevitably, Hawke spoke up. “So,” she said brightly. “Shall we sing a song to pass the time?”

Varric snorted. “Depends on what song you had in mind.”

Sera looked at Hawke in alarm. “Anything except for–”

Hawke interrupted her. “How about the Sera song?” she suggested.

Sera made a retching noise. “Ugh, no!”

Hawke grinned at her, then launched gustily into song. “Sera was never an agreeable girl: her tongue tells tales of rebellion. But she was soooo fast and quick with her bow, no one quite knew where she came from…”

Blackwall chuckled, then joined in with Hawke’s singing, and to Fenris’s mild surprise, Dorian joined in as well. Varric and Bull laughed, and Sera loudly groaned. “I hate this creepy song!” she complained. “Why’s that minstrel thingy got to pick on me...”  

Fenris shot Hawke a grateful glance, and she winked at him as she continued to sing. 

It wasn’t long before they were entering Stone-Bear Hold. The settlement was bustling after the battle, with families reuniting and healers hurrying back and forth to tend the wounded, but the Avvar who noticed Fenris and his companions called out to them in hearty tones.

“Oi, Inquisition! Lady guide your blades and bows!”

“Give Hakkon a good death, Fenris!”

Hawke laughed and called back to them, which Fenris was thankful for; he could barely think about anything at this moment but the pressing need to kill the Avvar dragon so he could be done with at least one horrible task.

Svarah was outside of her cave speaking with some of her people, and she waved Fenris over as he and his companions approached. “My boys told me you need mages,” she said. 

“Yes, if you can spare them,” Fenris said. “I apologize for yet another–”

She cut him off with an impatient wave. “They’re already down by the lake, as are my warriors with arrows and fire.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “They weren’t afraid to face the dragon?”

“They’re facing a god,” Svarah replied. “Honoured is what they are.” 

“I see,” Fenris said blankly. “Then you have our thanks.”

She nodded briskly. “We will ready a celebration for your return.”

“Oh,” Fenris said in surprise. “No, there’s no need–”

“A party?” Hawke chirped. “Oh, that’s fantastic! Isn’t that fantastic?” She elbowed Fenris and beamed at Svarah. “Sera and Dorian and I will dance for you! That’ll be sure to rouse everyone’s constitutions.” She wiggled her eyebrows salaciously.

Svarah gave her a rare smirk. “A wild one, you are. Fly true, Hawke. Lady keep you all.”

They resumed their route to the fishing camp at a faster pace, and true to form, Hawke resumed her usual routine of pre-battle banter to buoy everyone’s mood. “Anyone want to put bets on who will land the killing blow on our lovely friend Hakkon?”

“I will,” Blackwall said. 

Hawke patted his arm as they jogged along the cliffside path. “I knew I could count on you.”

Bull grinned at him. “You enjoy losing your coin, don’t you?”

Blackwall scoffed. “That’s a bit unkind.”

“S’true though,” Sera said. “You never get the pot!”

Blackwall shrugged affably. “I don’t mind, I enjoy a good gamble. And you should hope I win this time, Bull, seeing as my bet is on you.”

Hawke fanned herself playfully. “Ooh, such flattery.”

“It’s not flattery,” Bull said. “It’s an intelligent move. Which is why I will also bet on myself.”

Dorian tsked. “Of course you will.”

Bull patted Dorian’s bum. “Aren’t you betting on me, kadan?”

Dorian smacked his hand. “No,” he said. “I’m betting on Fenris.”

“Why me?” Fenris asked.

“Because you’ve landed the most killing blows thus far,” Dorian said. “That’s the intelligent move.” He made an apologetic little moue at Bull. “Sorry, amatus, I’m simply following the numbers.”

Blackwall frowned. “Wait, that’s not right.”

“Yes it is,” Dorian said. “Fenris has landed the kill on the most dragons.”

“I swear that’s not right,” Blackwall insisted. “It was Bull, wasn’t it?”

“You’ve both got it wrong,” Varric said. “It’s a tie.” 

“A tie between Fenris and Bull?” Dorian said. 

“Nope,” Varric replied. “Between Fenris and Cassandra.”

Sera cackled and clapped her hands, and Blackwall’s eyes widened. “How did I forget that?”

“Because you weren’t there every time,” Varric said. He jerked his head at Bull. “And neither was Tiny here.”

“That is true,” Bull said. “Otherwise I would have gotten the highest count.”

Fenris smirked at him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Bull elbowed Fenris playfully as the others chuckled, and Hawke tapped Varric’s shoulder. “What was the actual tally of killing blows for dragons, then?”

“Fenris and Cassandra had three each,” Varric said. “Bull landed two–”

Bull chuckled. “Those were good.”

Varric smirked at him. “Blackwall had one…”

“I am proud of that,” Blackwall put in.

“And the last one was Solas,” Varric finished.

“What!” Sera squawked. “He never!”

Hawke clapped her hands. “Oh Maker, he did! That’s right! He punched it in the face with the Fade!” She laughed. “Oh, Solas. All that subtlety and careful magic, and then boom, he punches a dragon in the face with a fist made out of the Veil.”

Sera wrinkled her nose. “Can’t be true. Too funny.”

“It is true,” Dorian said. “I couldn’t believe it either.” He sighed musically. “Ah, Solas, our enigmatic elven friend. How are you going to be depicting him in your book, Varric?”

“You’ll find out when you read it,” Varric said patiently.

Dorian pouted. “You aren’t any fun. Well, I think he’d want to be remembered as the most intelligent man in Thedas. Unfortunately for him, that title is already taken.”

Varric smirked up at him. “Aw, Sparkler, you flatter me.”

Dorian laughed heartily. “Oh, Varric, what a fine jest. No no, I meant myself, of course.”

Sera snorted, then poked Varric.“Two things: Bald head. Boring.”

“Being boring is how you get forgotten, Buttercup,” Varric said.

“Yeh, I know,” Sera said pointedly. “I wish I could.”

“Bare-faced but free,” Cole said. “Frolicking, fighting, fierce. He wants to give wisdom, not orders.”

Dorian shot him a funny look. “I don’t think Solas is really the frolicking sort, Cole.”

Then Hawke spoke up. “I think he’d want to be remembered for his knowledge. For trying to teach us what he knew.”

Varric gave her a sardonic look. “You’re the only one he tried to teach, Hawke.”

Hawke batted her eyelashes. “It’s hardly my fault that I’m so charming I can win over a spirit of wisdom.”

“A spirit of pride, my dear Hawke,” Dorian said.

Hawke waved her hand dismissively. “Ah, same thing.”

Bull scratched his chin. “I think he’d want to be remembered as–”

“Can we speak of something else?” Fenris interrupted.

The others fell silent, and Fenris immediately regretted his outburst. He shouldn’t have said anything, he knew, but he didn’t want to be reminded of Solas right now, not when they were about to walk into a major battle.  

It wasn’t even really the talk of Solas that was irritating him per se. Rather, it was the reminder of yet another worry that was waiting for him when he returned to Skyhold. In the nearly two years since Corypheus’s death, Leliana’s entire network of spies had failed to turn up anything of note regarding Solas’s sudden disappearance. In Fenris’s opinion, the complete and utter lack of information was the most damning evidence of all that Solas’s final words hinted at something ominous to come. 

Something ominous that Fenris might have been able to prevent, if only he’d pushed Solas a little harder about his strange and anachronistic ways.

Yet another thing that history may eventually vilify me for, he thought. Either that, or history would forget about him completely, just like it had done to Ameridan and Telana. All that sacrifice, that pain and heartache to save a nation that barely remembered they’d existed…

Not that Fenris cared about the recognition. He was already far more famous and recognizable than he’d ever wanted to be. It was the futility of his role that was rubbing him so raw. Everyone had always spoken of Fenris as being the natural choice for this role, the person who had fallen into the leadership position because it was meant for him, with the mark on his hand and his survival of the Conclave. Cassandra had always insisted that Fenris was exactly who they’d needed right when they’d needed him the most. And perhaps he had been needed when this had first started – when the Inquisition was new and struggling to find its footing after the attack on Haven. 

But Fenris wasn’t needed in that capacity anymore. The world no longer needed a symbol of hope in a time of terror, and Fenris was no longer the sole voice of authority in a world devoid of leaders. Cassandra was there to lead the Chantry, and the Empress of Orlais was cautiously cordial now with King Alistair and Queen Anora. The Free Marches were relatively stable, Sebastian having backed down from his untimely march on Kirkwall thanks to Leliana’s quick thinking as well as Fenris’s friendship. It had been months since they’d gotten a report of any Fade rifts that needed closing. In fact, the only thing that remained unchanged since all of this had begun was the anchor that was still buried in Fenris’s hand. 

The reasons that the Inquisitor had once been needed were no longer valid. Yet here Fenris was, still fulfilling a role whose value seemed to have run its course.  

Take moments of happiness where you find them, Ameridan had said. The world will take the rest. The problem was this: Fenris didn’t want just the moments. He didn’t want to lie back and allow the world and its endless demands to swallow him whole. All this time, ever since Corypheus had died, he’d ceded to Leliana and Josephine’s statements that he was needed more than ever. He’d ceded to the inevitability of his role as the Inquisitor, never questioning that his decisions and his judgment were necessary to foster the rebuilding of the world. It had never really occurred to him to question his place in all of this. He had fantasized about leaving the Inquisition, certainly – about taking Hawke’s hand and leaving all of this behind without a second glance. But he had never truly considered it in any real way.

Now, having seen how things had ended with Ameridan, Fenris was really thinking about it, and what it would mean if he… if he stepped down from the Inquisition.

Read the rest on AO3. 

[thepilgrimofwar]

Warplanning 2 - Edited Roll20 Log

[Backdated from after Breaking the Line & The Wintergales, and before The Whole Hog]

[Event Start]

Days had passed since the start of the civil war and the weight of it all seemed to bear down upon the members of house Emberheart. Dark rings could be seen beneath the eyes of Solendis and his son Stenden. Sleep did not come easy for either of them. One, worrying about the life of his son, the other, worrying about the lives of his people. The Lord and his Steward both did what they thought was best, but so far, had nothing to show for it apart from the coalition that gathered before them.

Judereth and Relriah had both opted to stay on the frontlines with the other officers at the head of their militiamen. Keeping up the fight against Illithia as they gained ground from their initial winnings. Zarannis too had decided to stay on a frontline of her own, keeping an eye and ear on Mediea Wintergale, and speaking with her sister Illsei. She believed that decisions moving forward were left to those ready to make them and as the party gathered in the War-Room the unfolding of what was to come would soon become clear.

[Banter]

Thanidiel spends a long, long, drawn-out moment staring at Beathyn particularly. Then to Renalays. Then to Beathyn. Just Beathyn. Her long platinum brows entrench in the polar opposite of 'pleasure.'

Kebha is about as focused as she's ever going to be, which is not a lot. Her ear flicks as Thanidiel edges closer.

Lirelle looks between Renalays and the woman on the opposite side of her. She looks askance at Thanidiel briefly before turning to the inquisitor. "What are you doing here?"

Thanidiel definitely seems to prefer the Illidari over the -Inquisitor.-

Ethalarian sits with his arms folded over his chest, leaned back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table like the uncouth dirt farmer he is.

Stenden looks across the table to all the officers who came today. The rest were seeing to their troops at the front no doubt. "Thank you all for coming." The boy gestured to the walls where briefings and reports on the major players in the conflict. "If you need to get up to speed, especially for the new comers, feel free to have a gander." He said, in reference to the Inquisitor and the Illidari who both seemed to cause tension with their very existence in the war room.

Vissehn yawns and scratches under his arm, looking unkempt and delightfully uncouth. He waves to the others, before listening to Stenden with the fullness of his short attention span.

Kebha seems to be absolutely oblivious to this tension- but then, she also doesn't see a problem with her eating habits. She instead chooses to bounce on her heels, 'looking' down the table at the assembled lot.

Vissehn:"Oi, hail scary Inquisitor lady. Eat any babies t'day?"

Renalays:"Sir Valcinder -humbly- requested my presence here on behalf of the Lord Emberheart here. Not that it has been an inconvenience; the Inquisitors have been... sorting the Kingdom province by province, as it were."

"Are you offering?"

Vissehn makes a show of warding off danger, feigning a stricken look.

[Planning Starts Proper, Summary of Turn 1]

Solendis:"So now that we're all gathered: Goodember is in our custody. The frontline against his realm of Shalemarch is holding for now. The Illithian front has gone well thanks to your efforts- And House Wintergale has, just last night, declare their loyalty and support."

Thanidiel:"I assume Fish saved the day in the Cloudrend Glades?" That's a veiled insult.

Lirelle:"Hm. Wasn't aware you knew each other."

Thanidiel:"Don't."

Renalays:"Are you ashamed of your service, Phoenix Guard Highdawn? No matter - this is not the time to coddle or press egos."

Beathyn clears his throat loudly and dramatically, attempting to keep some ensemble of order on Solendis' behalf. "As per our agreement that we came to," he gestures towards the compatriots of the diplomatic team of Vissehn and Renalays. "He will be providing us verbal support and access through the Cloudrend Glades. He won't however, be providing soldiers for the war effort unless he is attacked by House Illithia directly."

Isilos raises an eyebrow at the mention of his Nephew's organization before slienlly returning to the table and ignoring the rabble.

Lirelle squints at this weird shared history. Right.

Thanidiel stares at the Inquisitor for a steady moment - the vile burning bright in her felfire eye before she huffs and focuses on the report. "That's good," she can -at least- claim.

Thanidiel:"It would be harder if we had to drag him by his ancient ear from skirmish to skirmish."

Stenden:"Going by how old he is, that ear might come off."

Thanidiel:"Withdrawing support whenever things bothered him again would have struck the morale."

Lirelle:"It saves us the trouble of having one last player to deal with after this is over. As long as he keeps his word."

Kebha loses interest in the table, and retreats to crouch on those lovely chairs right there like some kind of weird, folded gremlin. She can hear just fine from here thanks.

Solendis gave his son a LOOK. Which chided him back to a more official tone.

Vissehn:"He's piss-scared of throwin' lots. Wants to be independent an' his own entity."

Vissehn shoots a look to Solendis, and murmurs to Stenden.

Ethalarian 's eyes flick back and forth between Renalays and Thanidiel, but he doesn't seem interested in saying or doing much. Above his paygrade, probably.

From Vissehn: "Might rip off half his face wivit, yeah? He'd look a right horror, like from Northrend."

Renalays:"Exactly. Complacency is what we need from your people. Not a... tenuous simulation of it."

[Wintergale gives nominal support]

Stenden folded his arms. "So, what should we do about this development. Before we move on to... Other affairs that need dealing with." Stenden looked to the military minds at the table.

Esheyn also chooses not to get involved in... any of that. She folds her arms across her chest, listening silently.

Lirelle:"Zarannis will keep him in line, one way or another. There are other things more important for now."

Oosaarn released a frosted breath into the air with a snort. "Don't suppose they would simply follow whoever kills their leader."

Beathyn flings his arms into the air at Oosaarn's comment. "That's what I kept saying!"

Renalays:"Inefficient."

Beathyn gives a look at Renalays.

Oosaarn:"It's the only way Warsong decide who's right."

Renalays:"The Sin'dorei do not rally as easily as the other cultures of the Horde."

Kebha perks up at that- that was what she was good at. The killing thing. The talking thing, not so much.

Renalays:"They would spend weeks, if not months, fixing together all of their pieces into a different puzzle with different names."

Ethalarian exhales a long sigh through his nose.

Renalays:"Less energy dedicated to -killing.-"

Oosaarn:"Just saying. The other person can't win the argument if they can't argue."

Vissehn jerks a thumb towards Renalays. "His death can wait til the present unpleasantness is done."

Solendis:"So, logically speaking. We could start up a Western front against Illithia. Only real question is, how much ought we invest into this- and does the Coalition wish to be part of it- Rather than continuing to advance as they are now against the more defensible frontlne."

Thanidiel:"A token force would demonstrate 'allyship' between Wintergale and Emberheart."

"Otherwise, I doubt Illithia has interest in traversing the Cloudrend Glades either."

Stenden tapped his finger on the map. "So, a token force. Diversion perhaps to draw numbers away from the east?"

Thanidiel:"Possibly. It's easy to feign numbers."

Thanidiel:"Tie branches to the horses' tails, burn more fires than there are squadrons every night. Yes?"

Lirelle:"If you intend to create a diversion, you still send -enough- men to handle being a diversion."

Renalays gestures her gloved hand in Thanidiel's direction. For both seeming to -dislike- each other, they're almost speaking like two halves of the same weapon.

[Muroco offers Rockhoof Guerilla Warfare.]

Muroco:"I can act as a diversion."

Thanidiel:"Honestly I like that."

Oosaarn:"I would like to see the Grimtotem acting like a diversion."

Stenden looks at Muroco. "I'm listening." His ears perked up at the sound of that.

Thanidiel:"He counts for thirty of your ill-fed Northerners."

Lirelle:"That is honestly not a terrible idea."

Muroco bangs his fist on Mammoth with a resounding thud. "Your locals aren't used to seeing someone like me, and they haven't seen Grimtotem tactics before."

Ethalarian arches a brow in the big Tauren's direction. "I didn't realize smashing everything in sight to a pulp was tactics." He scratches at his chin. "It works for you, though."

From Lirelle: you could do an event for mark when hes got free time since he's not around as much

Thanidiel:"Grimtotem are quite known for guerrilla warfare amongst the Shu'Halo."

Oosaarn:"It's called psychological warfare."

Muroco:"They're going to smash themselves into a pulp against me."

Oosaarn:"And also regular warfare."

Stenden:"It'll spread our forces more thin, but if you believe you can do so, I can give you one division of troops for support. If you can instruct them- I am certain they will be very useful to you."

From Lirelle: or he can write a story cause he's really good with those, you can talk with him imo

Kebha nods in the background. "The big one is good."

Muroco is now a leader of fledgling guerilla fighters to-be.

[The Fate of Nelio Goodember]

Stenden turns their attention back to the front. "So. Now onto the other matter at hand. Nelio Goodember."

Renalays:"Ah, you have contained the fat bastard?"

Oosaarn:"Horrible name."

Renalays:"His petition records at the Magistrate annoy me."

Kebha subtly perks up, resting her cheek in a clawed hand and looking like she might actually be paying attention.

Vissehn beamed. "I dangled him off a balcony!"

Nelio Goodember is dragged into the room, bound, but not gagged. "UNHAND ME!" he screeches as he gets shoved onwards into the corner of the war room.

Renalays:"Did you break your wrist in the process or did your youthful years prepare you for that?"

"Hello there, Lord Goodember."

Lirelle:"Oh for fucks sake. Who thought it was a good idea to drag him in here?"

Vissehn laughs at Renalays, brows waggling at her.

Kebha literally hisses at the loud bastard.

Oosaarn:"You're surrounded by enemies. And at least half of us don't so much as blink at the idea of removing someone's head. Best to keep a silver tongue."

civil*

Thanidiel:"What the orc said. Shut your jowls."

Solendis gives a wry smile. "My idea, I think it was best to let him listen to his fate as he's decided- and to plead his case accordingly." He walks up to Nelio. "Hello friend."

Lirelle sighs. Fucking diplomats man.

Ethalarian glances up and leans forward to take a peek around Esheyn at the bicc boi currently dragged into the room. He grunts and then goes back to being a grouch and leaning back. Exactly what he figured one of these northerners to look like.

Nelio Goodember pouts and shuts up for now. Not wanting to aggravate the warriors with a blood thirsty reputation. "Well?"

Vissehn waves to Nelio. "Oi! Nice seein' ye again! Thanks fer cushioning my landin!"

Oosaarn just... marched right up to the trio and sized up Goldmember. "Could untie him and let my worgs chase him around until he feels like being cooperative."

Esheyn glances to Ethalarian with a shrug as he takes a better look around her. She comes to lean against the table when she turns to face Goodember and the others, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Kebha:"He looks like he would make good crackling, no?"

Vissehn elbows Stenden. "See, I got manners."

Stenden speaks up. "So. I've been told I should execute you."

Nelio Goodember visibly sweats as the orc steps up to him. "W- Worgs?"

Oosaarn:"Yes. Giant wolves. Worth ten of your pitiful chickens."

Thanidiel:"I'll repeat myself and my say that I dislike the concept of killing him if we can use him. Shove him back in the dungeon with his House's seal and give him a treat every time he stamps off orders for his people on our behalf."

Ethalarian throws a hand up and shakes his head in Esheyn's direction. "You could also let Muroco just step on him a little at a time." He tips his chair back on two legs now. "Unbroken bones make for good bargaining chips."

Muroco:"True."

"I could break the bones he can live without."

Kebha:"Ooooh! Can we hear his toes crunch?"

Oosaarn:"Mokra hasn't tasted elven flesh since the second war."

Muroco:"He's too corpulent. He won't put up much of a race against worgs."

Solendis:"Bargaining chip sounds the most useful. But by not just having his head- I fear we will be sending the wrong message about how we see traitors."

Vissehn looks to Stenden. "What you wanting for him?"

Vissehn:"You're the Lord here, we're offerin' the peanut gallery of commentary."

Thanidiel:"Fish has a point for you, Lordling. In the end, we stand by your choices whether they feed us or burn us." That's... not comforting in spite of the -fervent- loyalty expressed.

Ethalarian visibly cringes. Smooth, Thanidiel.

Stenden looks at Vissehn, and at the man that was visibly shrinking by the moment into the corner of the room. "I'll hear everything at my disposal first. What I want is for the realm to stop tearing itself apart- and how we handle this... Traitor, will determine that." He gives his agent a nod. Wait, see. For now at least, he supposed. 

Thanidiel doesn't seem concerened at all. 

[Judereth Swiftquiver nominated to rule Shalemarch]

Lirelle:"He has no worth to us as a prisoner, he is simply consuming resources. What Highdawn said is made much more smoother if someone else is in charge of Shalemarch. Someone capable. And loyal."

Renalays:"Do you have a recommendation then, Lady Dawnbrook?"

Solendis snaps his fingers at Lirelle. "What was that? Who would that be?"

Lirelle:"I'm sure you have minor lords that you could elevate to that position, those who have served your family all this time. Failing that, give it to Judereth. She is capable enough, and you no longer have the Black Banner to call on. Someone martial is not out of the question."

Oosaarn:"I offer no useful advice except that which entertains me. Former general. Not diplomat."

Nelio Goodember sweats more.

Renalays:"Judereth is an individual that the State would appreciate in control of Shalemarch."

"She has merit and war to her."

Kebha hasn't a sane thought in her head, she is not the one to be asking.

Solendis scratches his chin. "That would work. She's known to the peasants as a good leader too."

Solendis:"So where does that leave you?" he looks at about to-be-not-Lord Goodember.

Renalays:"It sets the tone as well for your government, I will preface, however, Lord Emberheart. Embrace one group to alienate others."

"Although, your uncle and his father before him had no taste for noble-blooded aristocracy and I suspect you have some inkling of that in you."

Vissehn looked to Renalays. "Stenden ain't neither of them, he's willin' to do what it takes."

Nelio Goodember:"I have-" he paused. Gold? That'd be ceased. Influence? In chains? "I have the love of the people? I pulled them from poverty and kept them well cared for in a time of heavy Horde levies- If you remove me, I believe any still loyal are likely to resist the decision!"

Oosaarn:"Want my advice? Side with those whose loyalty and honor are iron. Not sniveling nobles who more likely to respect their dinner plate than you."

Renalays:"I will believe that when he takes after the traditions." She stares plainly at Stenden, "A leader should fight, like the Farstriders who warden and guide us."

Ethalarian rolls his eyes.

Stenden sighed and joined his father. "I am the Emberglades." he says coldly. Looking at Renalays, he gives a small smile and a nod. "I can't please everyone. But I can keep the peace, even if it costs blood."

Thanidiel:"--Lady Illithia spills enough for her family."

Muroco:"Want me to punch him in the stomach for you?"

Stenden frowns but says nothing at Thanidiel's comment.

Lirelle:"Enough Brat. He is a child. If he dies on the front lines, this becomes an even bigger mess than it already is."

Oosaarn:"Too easy of a target."

Vissehn bristles visibly but says nothing.

Ethalarian:"Much as I'm loathe to admit it, the fat bastard raises a valid point." He turns his attention to Lirelle. "How certain are you that this replacement of yours won't have to contend with sedition from within?"

Renalays scoffs behind her white mask - more reigned by Lirelle than anyone else who had barked back at her.

Lirelle:"I don't know, and I don't care. His subjects love his money more than they love him. Any disorganised mob that forms can be easily crushed."

"If necessary I will remain here with the Crows to handle any sort of consequences."

Ethalarian:"Oh, right. Murder more of the common folk. That's always the solution."

Oosaarn:"So take his money for yourself."

Renalays:"If you are going to install your own woman in Shalemarch, then have the process be organised. Order is what comforts the lost."

Thanidiel:"Fish could help there if he doesn't miss the frontlines."

Lirelle:"Common or not, once you take up arms, you have already made your choice."

Thanidiel:"No faster courier and herald in Quel'Thalas."

[Summary]

Stenden stands above Nelio Goodemeber. "I have heard your council," he gives a nod of appreciation to the heroes gathered in his hall. "As Lord of the Emberglades, I hereby strip you of all lands- titles- and assets- They now belong to me to redistribute as I see fit." He says, clear as day. "Bladeborn," Stenden looks back over his shoulder. "Fetch Judereth Swiftquiver. Tell her what has transpired here and that she needs to meet with me immediately." He turns back to Nelio. The man who had severely- Severely- underestimated him. "And you. You will remain in the dungeons. A hostage to your supporters. Hopefully they're not stupid enough to get their 'Lord' killed by rabbling."

Vissehn nods. "I got a way with the lowborn. Bein' one, yanno."

Renalays:"Hmm."

Kebha looks almost disappointed that she's not going to get to murder anything, but she just sighs and taps her claws on her cheek.

Vissehn bows low, silently and obediently, and immediately slips away to do Stenden's bidding.

Renalays does have a glint of what appears to be genuine appreciation of Stenden's mandate - even with that subtle behaviour to the boy's agent.

Nelio Goodember eyes started to water. At least he'd live. Right? Right?

Stenden:"Thank you. All of you. I do appreciate your council."

Thanidiel:"Shall the rest of us push to the western front?"

Oosaarn:"Is that where the fighting is?"

Stenden looks to Muroco. "Especially you, Rockhoof. I have high hopes for your efforts and high hopes that my soldiers will not disappoint you or your methods."

Stenden:"Yes, keep where you are- And when Rockhoof draws more than they can afford away from their lines, it should give you an opportunity to strike once more as you did."

Lirelle mulls over Stenden's ruling. It was at the very least, acceptable. A hostage was not her preferred method of doing things, but it had its own merit at least.

[Event Ends]

[matrixaffiliate]

Like the Storybooks

Co-written with @hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon

FFN and AO3

Chapter 12

Sirius woke up all at once, to the loud voice of the very annoying sovereign he served, and the sudden bright light let into the windows of the entry chamber where he’d been asleep upon an upholstered bench.

“Oi! When I assigned you to guard the Princess’s person, I didn’t think you’d interpret the order quite like this.”

Sirius groaned in response before finding the proper insult to follow up with “Don’t you have an heir to go conceive or something?”

King James seemed unperturbed and continued being as loud and horrible as possible.

“I believe the Princess will want to rejoin the court today, all things considered. What good are you to her if you look like that?” James’s pointed inflection made Sirius consider himself for a moment, but not for long.

“A pity. But I suppose being the best swordsman and the most handsome gentleman at court was just too much responsibility. My sword will have to make up for my current dishevelment. Her Grace will understand, surely.” Sirius yawned and ran his hands over his face.

“I’ll understand what?” Princess Marlene’s voice chimed in. Sirius hadn’t heard the inner door opening amongst the ruckus King James had caused.

Sirius stood up reflexively. He hadn’t bothered with any of these proprieties when it came to his oldest and dearest friend who happened to be the anointed King, but with Princess Marlene it was different. He couldn’t quite place what was different, even after three days of refusing to leave her side after carrying her to safety immediately following the attack on her person. He was a loyal guard dog to her just as he was to James, but he was starting to understand that at the core of it, something was not quite the same.

“You’ll understand that Sir Sirius’s ego takes up so much space that you must have felt quite crowded in these rooms the past three days.” James was quicker to respond with a quip, as Sirius was quite preoccupied, both with finding his footing after being so rudely awoken and with the sight in front of his tired eyes. The Princess indeed looked prepared to rejoin the court. Lady Emmeline must have braided the front sections of Marlene’s golden hair away from her face, which Sirius thought put the beauty and brightness of her eyes prominently on display. Adding to this effect was the color of her gown; the vibrant blue of the summer sky. Princess Marlene was a vision. He averted his gaze after a moment and reminded himself that he was only supposed to look besotted with the girl when they were in public.

Some exchange of words must have happened between the pair of royal cousins while Sirius was distracted. He found himself being lead through the outer doorway by King James, as Princess Marlene took his arm.

“So I’ll be breaking fast with the Queen in her chambers, but I’ll see the pair of you shortly, at council with Lady McGonagall. I trust you feel safe with Sir Sirius, Cousin?”

“Indeed, Your Majesty.” The Princess nodded, giving James leave.

Once the King was on his way Marlene seemed to speak more freely, which was somewhat odd, but upon Sirius’s consideration, everything about this particular Princess was odd. He’d best just get accustomed to that fact.

“Am I to understand that Lord Crouch’s body has been relieved of his head?” Her voice was hushed.

“I’m not sure how much of a relief it would have been to the man himself but yes, I gather the sentence has been carried through.”

“Well, it’s a relief to me, in any case.” Marlene gave a hollow laugh.

“I quite agree.” Sirius reigned in his emotions on the matter. He had known something was off, but he'd let his personal history cloud his ability to do his duty to the Royal family, and the Princess could have died because he hadn't been in the frame of mind to push his concerns. He took a deep breath and tried to lighten his own mood with humor. “Some people just need a great deal of space between their shoulders and their heads. Better for everyone.”

Marlene's laugh seemed to still the boiling in his mind and bring the smile back to his face.

It felt like all eyes were on the pair of them as they made their way into the great hall. Sirius could have sworn that a hush fell over the crowd upon their entrance. Rumors had surely been flying left and right. Some of them might have even been true. It was hard to ignore but Sirius did his best as he led Marlene through the crowd towards the high table.

“A certain someone with a great deal of empty space between his ears approaches. Couldn’t avoid that for long, could I?” Marlene gestured with her eyes to her left. Indeed, Gilderoy Lockhart had found them before they’d even managed to find a seat.

“Would you like me to say something to him, your Grace?” Sirius wanted to exchange words with Lockhart as much as the next person, which is to say, not at all. But he would go to the trouble of dealing with the idiot if it was any comfort to the Princess for him to do so. He had to admit that he’d get a measure of joy from beholding the look on the Lord’s face if he implied that the rumors were true.

A hint of a smile crossed Marlene’s face. She stood on her toes and whispered into his ear. “I think I have a better idea. Follow my lead,” without waiting for a response, she took his hand and guided him around a corner, then leaned against a wall, pulling him with her into the little corridor where spare goblets and plates were kept.

“What on earth are you doing, your Grace?” He watched her face with mild trepidation as she kept a close eye on the arched entryway to the corridor.

“Ruining my reputation. Ridding myself of a suitor. Thanking you for what you did for me the other day?” The last of her words were breathed just inches from his face before he took one last glance behind him.

Her blue eyes met his directly and she nodded as if to give a command. Her delicate hand made its way up to his still somewhat disheveled hair and round the back of his neck, pulling him gently down towards her. When his lips met hers, his heart couldn’t be fussed with the fact all this was for the benefit of getting rid of Gilderoy Lockhart, who he gathered was looking on in horror. Sirius was incapable of thinking of anything but the perfect softness of Marlene’s mouth as her lips parted slightly for his tongue. His hands found her slender waist and pulled her in closer. There was no faking this. Not for him, anyway. He was not sure he would get this opportunity again, so something in him must have driven him forward, to make the most of it.

He wasn’t sure how long it went on. Seconds? Hours? He felt dizzy when Marlene broke away.

“I think Lord Lockhart will be thoroughly dissuaded now, and we know he’s quite the gossip. So… thank you.” She glided gracefully out from between him and the wall and headed back into the great hall to find a seat for breakfast.

Sir Sirius watched her for a moment. He was at a complete loss as to how to handle the twisting and turning within his chest. This princess was the most confusing person he’d ever encountered. Yet he followed after her, with a smile on his face.

[funkymeihem-fiction]

Fantasy Meihem

A silly story with Frost Mage Mei and Demon Junkrat on a quest to find a missing friend, investigate a cabal, and get on each other's nerves nonstop.

Mei had arrived at the spot where the demon was last seen some hours ago. Like most demons, it preferred a hot, dusty environment, just like this awful canyon she’d been tromping around in, where a river might have flowed a millennium ago before drying up and never seeing water ever again. The rocky red walls rose up high on either side of her, but the sun was directly overhead and they provided her no shadow and no shelter. And worse was that she couldn’t risk removing her full frost mage regalia, no matter how stifling it all was. Her fluffy robes and pointed hat were much more suited to withstand howling winds and blowing snow, rather than this awful heat that made the very ground steam beneath her boots. Why did her robes have to have so many layers? And why had she tailored it with so many pom-poms and silly bows? Everything felt so heavy and hot. It was going to make her tired if she stayed here too long, and she would need all her strength if she was going to find and defeat it, this evil entity birthed of fire and flame… The village nearby had been desperate for help, and she had answered. Sheep and goats had vanished from the peasants’ herds, plants had turned to charred ash wherever its hoofprints were found, and there were reports of high, cackling laughter in the night. They hadn’t been able to pay her much at all, but their plight had moved her and she’d volunteered to come and put this villain on ice. There was a soft crunching noise by her foot and she looked down, seeing the charred skeleton of some animal- a lizard, maybe- with the marks of sharp teeth all over its bones. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, kicking the remains away before removing her hat and wiping at the sweat rolling down her forehead. Sitting down on a nearby boulder, she reached for her canteen, tapping her staff against it twice as ice crystallized against the metal, cooling the liquid inside as she tilted her head back and drank. “Oi.”

A voice came from behind her, and she inhaled sharply- a poor thing to do whilst drinking. A moment later, cold liquid was expelled from both her mouth and nose and she coughed wildly, gracelessly wiping at her face and trying not to choke as she turned to face it. “Is that sweet candy tea? Is it cold?” it asked. The demon just stood there in the middle of the canyon like he didn’t have good sense, staring her down with glowing yellow eyes. He wasn’t the largest one she’d ever seen, but he still towered over someone like her, even with his lanky form hunched over. The skin of his torso was vividly blood red, with a gaunt build and hungry, bony ribs, and his arms laced with lean muscle. Like most demons of his kind, he had angular features, with pointed ears, a pointed chin, and even a long, pointed nose below his curled pointed black horns. The tips of his dirty blond hair glowed red, trailing faint gray smoke. He was also missing two of his limbs, replaced with glowing red-black metal. He looked dangerous. He sniffled noisily, his nostril flaring up on one side, before asking again. “Sweet tea? Can ya share?” Mei launched upright, her staff at the ready as the shimmering azure crystal at its tip glowed violent blue, motes of ice shimmering around it. “You! Stay back!” He lifted both pointed claws in a placating motion, taking a step back with his limping gait. “Whoa! L-let’s not be hasty here, darl. I mean, you’ve already spit half it out on the ground there, how much you even got left?” His glowing eyes moved to the rapidly drying puddle of tea beneath her as he smacked its toothy maw unhappily, and she set her jaws and narrowed her gaze behind her glasses. She was onto his wily tricks, trying to distract her with the tea, no doubt so he could move in and try to attack her unawares. “I’m going to give you one warning, demon! You can return peacefully to your realm and be sealed within, or I’ll be forced to- I’ll have to destroy you! You’ve been a scourge on that poor village for too long!” He blinked owlishly, before a rather terrifying grin spread across his face, revealing a mouth brimming with razor-sharp white teeth. “Really? I’m a scourge? Is that the word they used, scourge? Heh! Blimey, that’ll impress the boys back home, that will. World-famous scourge! And they said I’d never amount to anything! Are the villagers real scared of me, then? Do they tell stories?” “Well, you’ve been eating their goats! That’s horrible!” She jabbed her staff forward a little more. “Wait, is this about the goats? Of course I’m going to eat a perfectly good free goat that wanders on in here, you see much else to eat around here?” He beckoned around at the desolate rocky outcroppings around them. “Really? That’s what they’re worried about, is the goats?” “You can’t just eat someone’s goats, that’s illegal,” she insisted, aware that the conversation with the demon was starting to seem a bit silly. Why was she even trying to argue with it, anyway? “Now…you have those two choices, demon! Banishment or being destroyed, that’s it!” He still didn’t seem particularly afraid of her, more disappointed than anything. His bony shoulders drooped a little as he glanced up and down her, glowing eyes alighting on her staff. “So, they’re just mad about the goat thing. And you’re here to try and fight me, then?” “Of course! They hired me to get rid of you.” He drooped a little bit more. “Oh. I kinda thought…you know. I mean, I’ve been such a scourge to them, and then they send this adorable lady wandering in here by herself, with a sweet tea. Like, I was putting two and two together, there…I thought you were…ya know?” “What?” Now he seemed a little uncomfortable, flexing his talons and looking away, and she could have sworn the flesh on his cheeks turned a little darker. He brought his false metal hand up to its mouth, and gave a sharp little cough. “…Virginsacrifice?” Her mouth dropped open in utter disbelief. For a moment she wasn’t sure how to respond, her own cheeks burning and her voice full of clear offense. “What!? Of course not! Why would you- How would- How dare you! Where would you even get such a ludicrous notion!” The demon took another step back, swallowing down the lump in his throat, waving both hands. “N-now no need to be offended! I was flattered! Thought you were super cute and all, and being a virgin sacrifice has a long, proud history of- AAAUUUUGH!” There was a whirl of red and black, flames trailing his form as he threw himself behind the nearest boulder, tumbling flat onto the ground as a whirling ball of blue slammed into the rock where he’d just been, crystallizing into long, jagged columns of sharp blue ice. The little woman in the elaborate get-up stood huffing and puffing in clear indignation, feet planted wide apart and her staff still lifted. A pair of curled black horns and lit blond hair slowly lifted up from behind the boulder until his yellow eyes were just barely peeking above it, gaping with wary fright. “Okay…I think we got off on the wrong foot here, why don’t we try again?” he offered in a small voice. “Look, there’s nothing wrong if you’re not a virgin and all. Hey, who am I to judge? Let’s just talk this out. We could make a deal?” “My virginity is none of your concern! And I would never make a deal with a demon,” she snapped, still clearly irked about the whole situation. “Look, darl, this whole thing is just a misunderstanding. I’m just an innocent bloke what happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You don’t think I like being stuck in this here canyon, do you? There’s nothing to do, nothing to see, nothing to eat but an occasional goat, and they took my friend! You want me out of here, I want me out of here, maybe we can work out some sort of thing?” He waved a gaunt hand above the rock as if motioning with an imaginary white flag. “I don’t want to have to fight a cutie like you. I just want out of here to find my pal.” Mei only halfway lowered her staff, still wary. “What do you mean, your friend? Do you honestly expect me to believe a story like that?” “S’truth, love! You haven’t seen him by chance, have you? Big boar-lookin’ type, about twice my height and five times as wide?” He crept a little closer from behind the outcropping, hands raised. “He got summoned somewhere nearby and I tried to follow, but the gate closed and now I’m stuck in this literal pit and can’t leave!” “A…boar demon? Someone summoned two of you?” she echoed. Her staff lowered just a little more, the tension in her shoulders relaxing very slightly. “Oh yeah, they’ve been summoning lots of us lately!” The lanky demon answered cheerfully. “Gotta be some high-quality stuff going on, if they can bind a big nasty fucker like my pal. Trust me, you don’t wanna try low-level spells on someone like him. Was afraid they were going to do the same to me, but they took one look at me and left me behind. Can you even believe it, love? Summoning us for a demon army and I didn’t make the cut? That one stung a little.” “That can’t be right. Nobody practices that anymore, it’s been illegal for ages. Really, a demon army? Is this some sort of silly story to distract me?” The mage woman scowled a bit but seemed a little more unsure, adjusting her bow-clad pointed hat. He gave her an amused look, uttering a shrill little giggle. “You really think something being illegal will stop folks, don’t you? Lookit, I don’t know what mortal politics you’re all bickering over this time, but I just want my pal back and for us to get back home. You seem like a fine, upstanding sort. Maybe a little too much, really, but…Come on, how about you help get me away from the gate, I’ll find my friend, and we’ll be out of your hair in no time. Eh?” “You just told me that someone is summoning an army of demonkind, and you don’t seem like you’re…” She frowned again. “Um…You don’t really seem smart enough to lie, like I thought.” He bared his teeth a little, looking put out. “I beg your pardon!” “Sorry!” she said quickly, then shook her head. Why would she apologize to someone like him? She relaxed her grip on her staff, resting its butt on the ground once she was sure the creature wasn’t going to attack her, and eyed him up and down. “Okay. You’re going to take me to where this summoning took place, first. I want to see if there’s any truth to your story. We can decide what happens to you after that. And you’d better not try anything…funny.” “Cross my cold, black heart,” the demon proclaimed loudly, running its pointer claw across its scrawny chest. A trail of smoking black was left across its skin with the motion, fading away slowly. “I mean, I’m a funny sort. Real winning personality, not bad in the looks department either, but you can rest assured I won’t try anything uh…ya know, untoward and all. After the whole virgin sacrifice thing. But I mean, if you ask, I won’t say no or anything. So if you get in the mood, just say the word and I-” Her staff started glowing blue again and her eyes narrowed. “All right, shutting my gob. You got it.” he said quickly. “That wasn’t what I was talking about at all. Ugh, would you just turn around and start walking, and show me where this happened? We’ll decide what to do after I can take a look around. This needs to be investigated right away. And then afterward we can look into unbinding you from here and seeing about your friend, all right?” The demon stared her down for a moment, head tilting in an almost dog-like way as he regarded her, but after a moment he merely nodded and turned about on his good leg, falling back into his limping gait as he started further down the canyon. She waited until he was a safe distance ahead before wiping more sweat from her brow with her fuzzy sleeve, starting after him. She expected a tense walk, what with the demon himself basically being held hostage before her. But to her chagrin, he waited for her to catch up a little, then tried to linger back until he was almost walking alongside her, arms folded behind him entirely too casually. “Sooooo! Tell me about yourself?” he suggested eagerly. “You got a name? Something I can call you, at least? Where you from? What’s your sign? Come here often? You uh…you like demons, then?” Mei sighed.

[aardvark-123]

Tsukumogami Tshowdown

I wrote this story for days four and five of the Gensokyo Festival, combining two prompts into one: “humans” and “youkai”. The first half needed extensive rewriting, but all I really did to the second arc was give Kosuzu’s mother a name.

"Ladies, my plan is beautiful and elegant in its simplicity." With a solemn frown on her face, Rumia jabbed randomly at a few scrawled chalk images on her battered old blackboard. "Firstestmostly, Kagerou jumps out of the reeds while one of the campers is having a bath. Secondestmostly, Sekibanki gets all her extra heads out and herds them back to the camp, where Wakisaki will decsend upon all the humans while wearing her kraken costume!"

Sekibanki, Wakasagihime and Kagerou shared a worried look.

"Thirdestmostly," continued Rumia, "once the humans' socks have all fallen off-"

"Eh?!" cried Sekibanki. "Uh, how...?"

"Because Wakisaki will have scared them off, silly," said Rumia, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Anyway, with the humans de-socked, we chase them back to their village and force them to hide under their beds all night!"

"Excuse me, I can't hide in the reeds! I'll get dirty!" protested Kagerou.

"And my name's Wakasagihime," Wakasagihime pointed out.

"Is that so?" Rumia's brow furrowed. "Wacky... Saggy... Theresa May? No, that doesn't sound... Look, Kagerou, it won't be that bad! Reeds are usually clean."

"I'm talking about all the horrible, soggy mud under them!" Kagerou shuddered.

"So? Wear waders! Or just go naked." Rumia rolled her eyes.

Kagerou gasped. "N-n-NAKED?! They'll see me! All of me!"

"Well, with waders, maybe," began Sekibanki.

"They'll chafe!" wailed Kagerou.

"Not if you wear some nice cotton tights under them!" insisted Sekibanki.

"Or maybe I could hide in the reeds instead!" offered Wakasagihime.

"Would you?!" cried Kagerou, so relieved she could have died happily in that very moment.

"Or we could just naff off and read manga in Rinnosuke's shop." Sekibanki smiled naughtily.

"C-c-could we?!" gasped Kagerou, on the verge of fainting.

"Come on, will you?! I came up with a perfectly good... decent enough plan!" Rumia bristled, her lips pressed together in a fierce pout. "We can do this! You're the Grassroots Youkai Network, blood sisters who have sworn an oath to do all sorts of cool stuff together! And I am Rumia of the Night, she who brings the dusk and eats people! Sometimes with mustard!"

"I know, but... It's such a lovely day! I don't want to get covered in mud or beat people up! All I want to do is take a walk in the forest, curl up with a good book and maybe go out for a meal..." said Kagerou pleadingly. "We don't have to scare people every day, do we?

"That is NOT so! If humans stop being scared of us, we'll die, and that would ruin my day!" snapped Rumia, levelling an accusatory finger at Kagerou. "I can't believe you, Kagerou. You're a werewolf! I thought that stood for something!" "Rumia, ease up on her, will you?!" Wakasagihime had been compared to the British prime minister more times than she could take. "The Grassroots Youkai Network isn't all about scaring people! We do some of that, sure, but sometimes we just like to chill out."

"Yep. I'm not even a member, they just let me hang out with them 'cause I bring peppermints," Sekibanki pointed out.

"I don't believe this!" Grief and anger collided in Rumia's heart. Tears welled up in the corners of her earnest eyes. "D-don't you have any pride?! You're youkai! The terrors of-of the night! You can't j-just... You can't!"

Rumia ran out over the dewy meadow, howling with misery.

After a few minutes, Sekibanki broke the silence. "Do you think the plan might've worked?"

"Maybe," said Kagerou. "Could've just hovered above the mud..."

Rumia trudged through the Forest of Magic, kicking at every stone or discarded piece of cardboard she found. She was soon left without a single toe unstubbed, but she was beyond caring.

What was the point in being a youkai if you didn't devote yourself to terrorising humans? All of Rumia's instincts told her there was none. By their very definition, youkai were the rivals of humans. To be anything else was to be a not-youkai.

Maybe the Grassroots Youkai Network weren't real youkai after all. Maybe, deprived of fear and conflict, they had turned into weak spirits of nature who couldn't hurt a fly. Maybe they all secretly wanted to be patted on the head(s) and informed, by humans, that they were good girls! The very thought of it chilled Rumia to the bone.

But then, what had become of the humans? They'd been getting bolder lately, and she apparently wasn't allowed to eat them any more. Rumia had only vague memories of her past, but she knew the golden age was coming to an end. What had become of Gensokyo? What had become of the ferocious monsters who once roamed freely from the Road of Liminality to the steps of the Hakurei Shrine? What had-

THUNK!

"Owwww..." Rumia staggered back from the tree she'd walked into. It wasn't a rare occurence for her, given that she cloaked herself in darkness all the time, but it still hurt.

"Um, hello? Are you all right?"

Rumia started. A young woman with short green hair and a cyclopean umbrella was walking towards her.

"Um, yes, thank you! I'm fine!" said Rumia, amazed. "What are you doing here, though?"

"Just taking a walk, plotting my next Incident..." said Kogasa casually, somehow managing to talk and lick her lips at the same time because it looked cute. "I was thinking I might make some tsukumogami dance along the walls. No-one gets hurt, but everyone gets nightmares!"

Rumia's eyes were sparkling. "Nightmares...? R-really?! You'd go to all that effort?!"

"Of course! I haven't scared anyone for days now. Got to pick up the pace," smiled Kogasa. "Do you want to come along? I could use someone with the power to control darkness..."

Rumia threw her arms around Kogasa's lower torso. "I love you, Kogasa! Please marry me!" she sobbed, nuzzling the karakasa's tummy. "Oh, this is going to be the best Incident in history!"

Kogasa stared for a few tense moments, then burst out laughing. "That it will, you funky little youkai, that it will!"

"Guys, guys, guys, watch this! Floating sake inside a floating glass!" Marisa clambered up onto the rustic pine table, stepping in Kosuzu's cheesecake and kicking over a couple of empty cups. She focused intently on the pint glass in her hand.

An awed hush fell over the table as the glass rose from Marisa's hand. The clear, faintly green drink rearranged itself into a thin cylinder and rose from the base of the glass.

"That'sh... That'sh amazhing!" slurred Reimu, wobbling on her stool. "C'n you... Ish it drinkable?"

"Sure. Open wide!" Marisa floated the cylinder of sake down to Reimu, who swallowed it and licked her lips.

Suzume Motoori rolled her eyes and took a steadying sip of tea. "You know, if I was a witch, I'd be doing a lot more than just drinking all day."

"Won't you give them a chance, Mummy? These are Gensokyo's greatest heroes!" said Kosuzu fervently. "They do a lot more than just drink."

"Well, yeah," nodded Marisa. "I train for, like, two hours a day, make magical gear, hunt for treasure, fix things for people, fight youkai, cook, go swimming..."

"An' I shometimesh take napsh," Reimu added, hiccupping loudly. "An' shweep the floor!"

"Fair enough," sighed Suzume. "By the way, Little Bell, your father might be coming home this weekend."

Kosuzu's face lit up. "Really? Did he get any new books?! Or sell any?!"

Suzume sighed. "If I know him, he'll have run out of books and money. I know he wants to spread the joy of reading around, but..."

"I know..." The cheesecake Marisa had stepped in represented a whole month's pocket money for Kosuzu. Her parents would probably have given her an actual wage if she'd asked for it, since she practically ran the shop, but she didn't have the heart to cut into the roof repair fund.

"And for my next trick," said Marisa loudly, "I'm going to do the impossible!"

"You mean buy my daughter another slice of cheesecake?" Suzume gave Marisa a very motherly look.

"Maybe." Marisa shrugged. "No, what I'm gonna do is make this table dance!"

Reimu, Kosuzu and Suzume grabbed their drinks and took a few steps back.

"Good thinking!" Marisa grinned. "All right. By the power of-"

"Hey, ishn't that... ishn't that hat-shtand danshing?" Reimu pointed a wobbling finger towards the doorway. A curvy wooden hat-stand was dancing a stiff jig, its three legs clattering on the floor and its crowd of hats fluttering like a ballerina's shoulder-pads.

Marisa yelped. "M-my hat! Oi, stop! Give me back my hat!"

As if it had heard her, the hat stand leaned back rammed its "head" through the door. It ran out into the street, trailing hats and splintered wood.

"Damn it... Come on, Reimu, follow that tsukumogami!" shouted Marisa, charging out of the door with hakkero in hand.

"You heard her! Let's go!" Kosozu grabbed her mother's hand and shot out of the pub.

"Ughhh... Night, everyone." Reimu curled up under the table and fell asleep.

On all the rooftops in the village, hundreds of tsukumogami were dancing up a storm. Pots and pans clashed together, brooms duelled with hoes and pitchforks, dolls danced with metal figurines and rode on toy trains, and at least one entire house was bouncing hard enough to shake the earth.

The noise was deafening, the crowds too curious to run away and too scared to ask any questions. Marisa elbowed her way through the throng until she came to the laughing karakasa and the generic darkness youkai at the centre of it all.

"Kogasa Tatara! I should've known it was you." Marisa whipped out a spell-card. "How dare you threaten the peace of our beautiful village?! You will pay for this!"

"Well, well, if it isn't the Ordinary Witch!" Kogasa laughed cruelly. "Do you really think you can stop me, Marisa?! All the powers of the night are with me!"

Marisa's eyes narrowed. "We may live in fear of you, but our hearts are pure and our spell-cards are strong! The Human Village will never give in! Kosozu, you deal with Rumia. I'll take the umbrella girl."

Kosozu gasped. "R-really? This... This is...!"

"Kosuzu, you don't have to. We've talked about peer pressure." Suzume took her daughter by the hand. "Come on, we'll get the guards-"

"This is SO COOL! My first spell-card duel, and the whole village is here! Kogasa and Rumia are scaring everyone, we're going to kick their arses, thereby fulfiling the need youkai have for conflict...! This is what Gensokyo was built for!"

"Um," said Suzume, "what?"

"Yeah, what are you... What are you babbling about? There are some things you don't exactly just say..." said Marisa shiftily.

"Uh..." said Kosuzu. She gave a quiet, nervous laugh. "Charge?"

Marisa nodded. "CHARGE!"

"Just get home safely," sighed Suzume.