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norafike · 4 years

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Despite all this, I still love you 5

At their feet lay the remnants of the wagon they had been sent out to collect, wood ripped apart and thrown carelessly with no evidence of supplies ever being there save for the 'seven' scratched into a crate left on the side.

Holding for some hope of being able to salvage something, they searched the area but found nothing to take back to Maggie.

She clicked her tongue to break away from that silence, brushing her hands against the materials of her skirt as she pulled away from lifting one of the old wheels. "She ain't gonna be happy when we get back."

"No an' I ain't happy about all this neither, how can someone get away with stealin' a whole damn w-wagon." He cried, carelessly throwing a splintering plank away, expressing his frustration at the ordeal with a huff as he marched over towards his horse.

"I mean, I know them Lemoyne Raiders aren't exactly shoved to the side over here, but surely somebody had to have tried intervenin'."

"I doubt it, or they killed anybody who had done so."

Lem turned back to face her but gave no response, the anger written bluntly across his face. She knew it wasn't directed at her but as she walked the distance to join him at where their horses had been left she could not help but feel guilty under the intense glare.

While she traipsed across the grass she was able to pick up on the unpleasant comments Lem made, some insulting him and others insulting the raiders for having thrown a wrench into their plans.

This was meant to have been an easy job and yet even they failed in retrieving one wagon from the next state over, something any child could have potentially done. He blamed his bad luck, something like this usually always happening whenever he tried to help out with the business and honestly, he wondered why it was that Maggie still allowed him out on errands anymore.

"Why don't you go buy some replacements for the ingredients, Lemuel, I'll go tell your aunt about this."

"No, Maggie's gonna be a lot less harsh on me than she is you." He objected quickly despite knowing this was never any arguing with Nora Morgan. She ignored his plea, slowing down on her ride as to walk at the same speed as he. "You covered for me last time."

"Last time we both didn't do what was asked."

"No, but.." He started but found it difficult to say what he had been meaning too, not without sounding too harsh. "Maggie don't trust you right now, not since.. you know."

She was already aware, still observant as an individual and picking up on the lack of faith Maggie held with her no later than a week after they began to grow worse. It hadn't been surprising and Lem just retelling her it all gained no response, at least, not one he had been hoping for.

"If she gets rid of me, then that's her choice just as it is mine to tell her that we didn't get them ingredients."

"Morgan." He tried, but Nora refused to listen any further. She simply shrugged before kicking into a gallop to get a head start on the journey back home.

Lem cursed under his breath as he saw her ride off. In any other case he probably would have gone after her, but today he was in just no mood to argue any longer and so he stayed behind, deciding to listen to her instructions and divert his journey through Rhodes to buy anything they could replace the ingredients with.

She took a few minutes to prep herself before actually entering the shack, the reality of what Maggie could do unknown and scary.

Nora wasn't sure if her approach should be blunt, if she should walk on inside and tell the woman straight out about their failure in taking a wagon back or if she should sweeten her way into the subject, start a conversation which would then lead to the lost ingredients.

Maggie would appreciate the blunt approach and it was one Nora had gone for previously but she did end up receiving a harsh telling off after doing so.

It took a while before Nora could even push open the door, sheepishly walking inside the building and sneaking down the stairs to the basement where Marcel was humming to himself as he worked, oblivious to the other's presence in his space.

"Marcel." Nora whisper-shouted, knocking the wood of the door frame to better grasp his attention.

"What is it now." He grumbled, holding his sweeping brush still as he turned to look at her. "Ah, Miss Morgan I did not know it was you, have you grabbed those ingredients?"

She gritted her teeth as the first answer and this displeased Marcel. "What happened?"

"There was no wagon to begin with, gotta tell Maggie now and thought I would say my final farewell to you before I am possibly murdered."

"Oh you are so dramatic, jus' tell her you and Lem had been ambushed or something, she will most likely not be so harsh."

She gave out a quiet sigh. "I can't lie to Maggie."

"Lie to me about what exactly?" Her voice was sharp, distant and yet so close and Nora startled upon hearing the woman speak. She stumbled forward from leaning against the door frame before regaining herself enough to turn back and talk.

"May we talk upstairs, Maggie?" The woman gave a simple nod before leading her way back, taking her time as she ascended the stairs with her cane being used to support her.

A chill ran down Nora's spine once she left alone with Miss Fike, the woman's stone-cold glare enough to kill a man and yet there was always some comfort to be found within it. That was what probably led Nora to admire her, how she was always a cold woman and yet so very kind.

"Come on, spit it out then."

"Well, that wagon you sent us after ended up bein' destroyed and them ingredients taken."

"Good."

"You see-." She caught herself before the excuses came out, surprised and the pleasant expression Maggie wore upon the news. "Excuse me?" Nora asked as if believing that her own ears had betrayed her.

"I said good."

"Forgive me, but how is this good?"

The woman let out a low chuckle as she walked around to sit back at the same desk she was usually glued to at all hours of the day. "Them ingredients weren't exactly for us. I knew the Raiders were gonna try an' go for you if you began transporting a wagon full of moonshine ingredients. I had just hoped that with any luck they were the ones to succeed."

Maggie looked over at Nora, expecting her to make some passing comment at this plan but instead the other female stood bewildered in the room, her mouth slightly agape. The older woman took this as a sign to continue with her explanation and judging by Nora's face she could tell that the woman was still listening.

"You were sent to transport poison basically, nothin' we need. At least not now." She brought her hand down on the desk, slapping it firmly which caught Nora who had been unsuspecting it.

"There was the problem of sendin' you however."

"There was?"

"You're a fighter, Nora and a damn good one. I knew if somethin' were to happen you'd fight until they were all dead and you, unscathed. So I had to send Lem because you care for him just as I do."

"Why couldn't you have told us the plan anyway?"

"I have my reasons.. for now why don't you an' Marcel enjoy a drink while we wait for Lem's return. He would appreciate an explanation too."

"He would."

After that meeting with Maggie and taking some time to take a walk and clear her head, Nora found herself standing near the river with her hand full of small pebbles she tried to skip.

It was quiet in the location she had picked, no animals near and no riders passing by on the trail. It gave her plenty of time to reflect on her thoughts and more time to throw the pebbles into the water to let out some of her frustrations.

"Throw any harder and there'll be no water left in the river." A gruff voice said behind her, she had been caught so off guard that the minute this stranger stopped talking she had her revolver aimed.

"Arthur." She gasped, eyes wide upon recognising the all too familiar face. He gave her a cheeky grin, using the tip of his finger to point the gun away from him. When she realised what he had been doing she quickly holstered the weapon and raised her arms while apologising on the spot.

It was after she had realised that she almost shot Arthur did she notice the young boy who hid behind his legs, bright eyes looking at her with a mix of curiosity and fear.

Nora hadn't said anything, only looking bewildered at the child as if she hadn't seen one before and this prompted a quiet chuckle from Mr. Morgan. "This is Jack, a son of a friend, she asked me to take him out fishing."

"Oh well, this is a good spot."

"I do think it is."

She crouched down so she was level with the boy's height, gently holding her palm out flat. "Hey there, Jack." She started and he seemed to ease at her gentle voice, slowly coming out from hiding behind Arthur's legs. "I'm Nora."

"Hello." The boy spoke softly, placing a small hand on her own which she gently shook before pulling her hand away.

She couldn't help the smile that tugged on her lips. "How did you know about this spot anyway? I don't believe I've seen you out here yet and from simple interactions I don't think you're from around here, Morgan."

"A friend. He's a great fisherman and he's been in the area in the past."

"I see." She stood. "Mind some more company?"

"A lovely lady such as yourself? Not at all, ma'am."

"You remind me of Lem, always a charmer even though it's obvious that the charm's an act."

At her comment he had feigned insult but smiled upon hearing the chuckle from Jack as he stood by and watched. "Why don't we get started on fishing, Jack?" He asked, walking the boy over to the waters and passing over a fishing rod.

She didn't pay much mind to what Arthur told the boy instead she decided on taking an old book out of her satchel and leaning against the rock to read. Being caught with the lovely words on the paper she hadn't notice young Jack approach and stand before her, not until the child had gently tugged on the material of her skirt.

She looked forward and offered a kind smile and in turn the boy held up a bundle of flowers freshly picked. She closed her book and leant forward, inspecting the flowers. "Those are pretty Jack, who are they for?"

"Momma."

She nodded. "She'll love them."

He held them up again. "Can you hold them for me? I wanna make her a necklace."

"Out of flowers?"

"Miss Tilly showed me how to make them."

Nora gently took the flowers from his hands, careful not to crush any in doing so before neatly laying them out on her skirt. The boy went straight back to picking at more flowers before he was satisfied with the number gathered in his hand he returned to Nora to begin his craft.

She watched as he delicately wove the flowers together, his eyes furrowing in his concentration all while Arthur kept to himself as he fished. She enjoyed their company she found and enjoyed listening to the small stories Jack whispered to himself as he done so.

"You ready to go Jack?" Arthur walked over to them, putting the rod away in his satchel just as the child finished his creation.

He proudly held it up with a fond look in his eye and Arthur complimented it just before whistling for his horse to come. The boy handed over his necklace so he could stand before taking it back, however, just as Arthur turned he had been stopped in his tracks by a couple of individuals who had dressed perhaps a little too fancy for this area.

"Arthur Morgan." One greeted, while the other stood behind with a repeater in hand. Jack had taken to hide behind him once again and since these newcomers hadn't noticed Nora yet she decided to pull the revolver from her holster and hold it ready just in case.

They talked amongst themselves, with Arthur keeping sure that the boy was more protected then he was and eventually they grew tired of the conversation and left.

It was then did she finally talk. "Who were they?"

"Pinkertons."

"What did they want with you?"

He chuckled. "I am a bad man, Nora. They jus' needed to speak with me about that." She shook her head, watching as he mounted up before pulling Jack to sit on the saddle with him.

"You're far from a bad man, Morgan. I'll see you around." She said, thinking that this was a farewell but Arthur didn't think it was.

"Don't mean to sound rude or anythin', but would you mind waitin' here? I think Dutch should speak to us about this."

"Dutch?"

"My mentor shall we say." Arthur tipped his hat towards the lady. "If that's alright with you of course."

"I don't mind."

When Arthur did return she had expected him to be with this 'Dutch' he had mentioned but he came back alone, this apologetic look on his face as he stopped just short of her.

She lowered the horse brush as he dismounted and stepped closer and she had expected him to apologise for asking her to stay and that Dutch did not wish to talk with her.

"He's asked for you to talk with him at camp."

She raised one of her eyebrows, admittedly confused about the request. "Camp?"

"It is a long story miss, but if you will, would you mind riding with me back to Horseshoe Overlook?"

Hesitantly she accepted the request, wondering why he seemed to be very nervous all of a sudden with this request. He thanked her, mounting up once more with Nora copying with her own Casper. "May I ask, why do you appear so careful about talkin' about your camp and the people you run with?"

"It's tricky business. Keepin' us all safe is the primary reason, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Tricky business, as I said."

"Alright then, lead the way."

When they got to the camp the welcome was.. less than warm. John, who she recognised from the encounter at Six-Point Cabin looked less than impressed with her being there and the hold he had on the repeater only seemed to tighten when she stepped closer towards him.

If that hadn't been bad enough when she did eventually walk into what she presumed to be the camp itself all eyes had turned to look at her, wary glances on her as she followed Arthur towards a white tent situated right in the middle where a fairly-well dressed man sat with a book in his hand.

She recognised him too, also from Valentine where he spoke with Trelawny shortly after Arthur's fight with Tommy.

Arthur cleared his throat as they neared the tent and he eagerly looked up from the pages, this charming smile upon his face once his eyes settled upon Nora.

"This is the girl I mentioned Dutch, Nora Morgan."

"Nice meetin' you mister." She spoke politely but felt too nervous to extend her hand forward for a handshake, choosing to keep her hands firmly to her sides and her fists in tight balls.

"It's great to finally meet you, miss." He spoke, this commanding tone in his voice that was spoken so gently. He called them both over to stand inside his tent. "Arthur tells me you two encountered some Pinkertons while out fishing."

"Yes, forgive me, but I fail to see why you needed to talk with me regardin' this, sir."

"You were there, weren't you?"

"I was present but vaguely listening to anything they said. Weren't my place to eavesdrop."

He nodded, looking a little impressed. "You didn't catch their names did you?"

Arthur opened his mouth to talk but Dutch raised his hands to stop him before any words came out and if he were some trained dog, Arthur quickly shut it. He looked fondly at Nora as he waited an answer and under his gaze she felt very uncomfortable.

"Milton and Ross, or those were their last names. But I'm sure Arthur must have mentioned all this already."

"Oh, he has." Dutch announced. "But, I just needed to make sure you knew too."

"What for?"

He shook his head just as he rose from the bed in which he had been seated. "Don't worry about it just yet, miss."

"Please, call me Nora."

"Very well." He smiled and very quickly he changed their subject from what they had previously discussed. "I believe you already know young Sean and Josiah Trelawny. Arthur's told us this too."

"Yes, did a couple of jobs for them last year, I also know Mrs. Adler too and, well, her husband."

"Nasty business, damn O'Driscoll's it was."

"Heard you got an O'Driscoll here too, forgive me for sayin'."

"Kieran? Trust me, if he meant any harm I would have shot him long ago. That or Arthur here would have. But I doubt he'll ever do anythin' to us, I mean.."

"I get what you mean sir."

He nodded, looking beyond where the female stood and at the wagons where a group of young women sat with pieces of old clothing in their laps and needles and thread in their hands. "Miss Grimshaw." He shouted, and an older woman with a harsh glare looked over to stare at them. He beckoned her over with his hand and she abruptly stopped cleaning the table to march on over.

"Miss Grimshaw, would you kindly take our friend here to talk with Mrs. Adler, I'm sure she would like to see her." He asked and quickly she had to object to the idea, no matter how much she thought it would be nice to see Sadie she also did not want to invade their space any longer.

"I'd like too, really, but I feel like I'm trespassing."

"Don't worry about it miss, you'd be trespassing if I did not allow you here now wouldn't you?"

"S'pose I would be, yes." She looked towards this miss Grimshaw who appeared far from pleased with Nora's presence but beckoned her to follow regardless when Dutch finished talking.

Nora was just thankful that she wasn't taken through the part of the camp where everyone appeared to have gathered upon her arrival. Mrs Adler was sat by a smaller campfire reading a book, completely unaware that Nora was stood near her.

"Mrs. Adler, you got company." Grimshaw announced before she walked off. The woman looked up, perhaps expecting one of the camp members to be standing there but had been surprised when she came face to face with that old friend from the year before.

"Miss Morgan." She cheered but her voice broke from the all crying and when the hat hadn't shaded her face the tear stains became apparent.

"How are you doin'? I-I heard about Jake."

"Terrible puttin' it lightly. It's like one giant nightmare." She sniffled after, using the heel of her hand to wipe away a few stray tears. "But I'm survivin', just barely."

"I imagine it's pretty hard. Sorry that it happened to you."

"Oh none of it was your fault, don't dare apologise." Sadie chuckled, the smallest of smiles present on her face in doing so. "How are these guy's anyway?"

"They're okay people. Abigail and Mary-Beth had been kind and it's nice havin' folk around and besides, I like the company."

"Must be lovely."

"Thought you had a gang of your own?"

Nora gave a slow nodded, this 'gang' really just a bunch of people who came together for the sake of things. She turned towards Sadie. "Well, Harry an' James are busy with their bounty huntin' careers. Cripps been keepin' busy at camp an' Lem an' me we still run the 'shine." She had whispered the mention of moonshine so no curious ears could hear what she discussed, but she still gave cautious glances around incase anybody was near.

"You an' Lem still run together?"

"Well yeah."

"Thought after that night you wouldn't, it all got.. messy."

"Which night?"

"The one with the explosions and then the party and drinks."

Nora gasped, it's details hazy but she could remember enough about it to understand what it was Sadie talked about. "That argument? We apologised the day after, agreed we both had said things we didn't mean."

"What was the argument about?"

"Nothin', there was no need for it. Guess we both had too much whiskey."

"Guess you did."

Nora looked away ashamed; keeping her eyes peeled to the ground beneath her and gently Sadie would pat her shoulder before retracing her hand. "I really like catchin' up with you Sadie, but I gotta leave soon, Cripps is at camp and we're expecting James and Harry to return."

The other woman nodded, taking Nora by the arm and walking her back down towards the horses to see her off. She spoke quietly about nothing in particular before stopping just before Casper.

As Nora mounted up Sadie tugged on the woman's skirt to better grab her attention again. "You tell your brothers I said 'hi' will you?"

"I will, it was nice seein' you again, Mrs. Adler."

Sadie gave a light-hearted chuckle before taking a step back to allow Nora to leave. She raised her hand in a wave before the woman could not be seen anymore and even after Nora's departure she remained standing at the path for a moment longer, holding on to that final piece of her past.

While Sadie lingered there Abigail had taken to approach the woman, as a means to check up on her. "She seems nice."

"She is, was always willing to travel up into the mountains for a simple job for me an' my Jakey." She replied, dropping her head to look at the ground. "She's always had a heart of gold."

Abigail nodded, wrapping her arm around Sadie's shoulders to lead her back into the camp and towards the stew pot. "Why don't you an' I get something to eat an' maybe you can tell me about this Nora."

"If you want me too."

#rdr2 #Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead Redemption Online #rdronline #rdr oc #rdro #red dead online #Red Dead #red dead redemption 2 #lem fike x oc #lem fike #lemuel fike x OC #Lem Fike x Nora Morgan #Dutch Van Der Linde #arthur morgan #abigail marston #jack marston #sadie adler #rdronline fanfic

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friendshipcampaign · 5 years

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Session Recap 4/24/19: Pi-rasslin’

Their first day back in Wayspell, the party busied themselves with assorted tasks independently of each other – largely research, but some hands-on learning or other personal errands as well. Kriv visited a temple to Bahamut and spoke with one of the clerics there about the nature of faith. Erwyn finally had the chance to take Alembic up on his promised lessons in sealing portals, and ended up proving surprisingly adept at his initial attempts. Ditto spoke with one of the Infinite Library flumphs, named Jagat, about the Far Realm, and received some worrying information about creatures called Great Ones.

At the end of the first day, Ditto sought out Kriv – who was decidedly more cleaned up than usual after his visit to the temple, clad in some nicer new clothes he had purchased. She told him what Jagat had mentioned to her, and that she was hoping to see if the flumph could reach into her memories, but that there was a danger inherent to thinking about the creature she’d witness and it seemed prudent to have someone nearby to potentially heal her or talk to her if it was needed. They planned to try the next morning. That night, Erwyn visited Palava and had a reassuring conversation with him about homesickness after the two of them visited an Elvish bakery.

The next morning Kriv and Ditto found Hubris having some kind of magical duel with another Loremaster. The pair cheered her on when she successfully came out on top, and she teleported down to them to take them both to the Library. After getting them inside, she mentioned having another duel before noon and dashed off. Jagat appeared shortly after their arrival and asked them to join hands so they could transport to a different hex. Once there, Kriv cast Bless on Ditto before Jagat retrieved the memories she had of the creature she’d accidentally summoned. Once they had completed the process, Jagat’s glow faded to a subdued indigo, and they solemnly told Ditto they feared she was correct about having seen a Great One – smaller than average, though it could have grown in the years since.

“I’m… I’m gonna take a nap here, now,” Ditto said, sounding exhausted, and lay down on the floor.

Kriv comfortingly pat her head and, as Ditto slept. He asked Jagat about the creature and learned that, when outside of the Far Realms, Great Ones could cause harm to both themselves and the world. Jagat advised caution due to the power of this creature, even in their mission to be kind. Kriv promised that his goal was to keep Ditto and the others safe.

That evening, Amaranth – who had asked Hubris for the dirt on some local taverns – took it upon herself to round up the others. She found Kriv at the inn, along with Voski, whom none of them had seen for the last 36 hours and who was crackling angrily, draped across a table, having changed her armor to something less overtly adventure-y while doing library research. When Amaranth asked Voski how her research had been going, she slapped a very short list of research references on the table and started ranting about the library being full of thousands of unhelpful ballads. She admitted, sounding vaguely manic, that she may have stolen the shawl she was wearing because everything else was a blur.

“Voski, how do you feel about learning a little more about Wayspell history?” Amaranth asked.

“Elaborate,” she said.

Amaranth danced around her proposition a bit longer, saying she’d learned about an interesting place in the theater district, before being more blunt.

“I’m saying, do you want to go get trashed with me?” she said.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” Voski replied, before dashing upstairs.

“I’ve never seen her so excited in her life,” Kriv commented.

“This will be an experience for all of us,” Amaranth said.

They then went to “wrangle the bookworms” as Kriv described it. They were able to get into the Infinite Library through Hubris after visiting her office. Ditto was at a table with many books scattered around her. Amaranth announced that she was going to rescue her from the books. She seemed a little hesitant to stop studying at first.

“Please come. Voski is weirdly excited and I need help,” Kriv whispered to her.

Ditto grinned widely and agreed to come.

They were able to find Erwyn, who was also in the Infinite Library, doing some research with Alembic and Palava. Amaranth announced to him that he needed a break and they were going to a pub to party – but promised to buy him some hot chocolate.

“I’m mildly concerned about some of the adjectives being used, but I’m not opposed to the idea of a break,” he said.

“Great!” Amaranth said.

Palava told Erwyn to have fun as Amaranth bodily grabbed Erwyn and dragged him off, he and Alembic waving after them. Back at the inn, Voski emerged, having changed her armor again to a matte black outfit and donned some of her jewelry. The group then made their way to the theater district, and on the way were spotted by some of the kids that Amaranth and Ditto had helped before by stealing back the cuna. They chatted with Amaranth for a bit about a play their theater troupe was doing called “Blade of Vengeance”. Amaranth said it sounded awesome due to the amount of blood and guts in it. As they walked away, Ditto revealed to the others that these were the children that she and Amaranth helped steal for, and who had later proved good accomplices. “Well, it’s good to know that they’re already on their way to a life of crime on their own,” Voski said.

They rounded a corner and saw the tavern they were headed to – in the form of a decent-sized ship wedged between two buildings on the street. The sign out front read “Jolly Roger’s” and bore a somewhat goofy-looking skull and crossbones. As she started up the plank to the deck, Amaranth waggled her eyebrows at the rest of the party before walking inside.

“I think I’m starting to get some idea what Amaranth’s previous sphere of employment was,” Erwyn said.

The interior of the place was bright and smoky. Some musicians in the corner on the lute, viol, and accordion respectively were playing some shanties. A kobold behind the counter was dressed in over-the-top pirate garb. A parrot looked at the group from its perch as they entered. The whole place was exceedingly tacky. Amaranth commented that she wasn’t sure if Hubris had been playing a joke on her, but she found the place hilarious – and that it would do for the night.

Amaranth bought drinks for everyone. Voski asked for a Dark and Stormy. Erwyn warily asked her what she recommended and she ordered him an artisanal rum, due to it seeming to be the most elf-y on the menu. Ditto just went for the cocktail with the most ridiculous name, and Amaranth got herself the most ridiculously pirate-y sounding drink on the menu. Kriv listed off an alarming number of ingredients, including an egg, for one mixed drink, claiming that his Uncle Frankle used to order the same thing and call it a “Hex.”

Scanning the room, Amaranth noticed that along with the more touristy crowd, there were some individuals towards the back, including a sharp-looking tortle, who appeared like they might be involved with a more legitimately criminal element than the atmosphere of the venue implied. As their food arrived, Kriv commented to Amaranth that this place seemed like it was more “bedtime story” pirate-y than real pirate-y. She replied that she’d taken a chance.

As the group talked, Voski explained the fruitlessness of her research so far, and that she hadn’t unearthed anything important. As it turned out, references to the fey anchors and even to Elessea herself were so shrouded in mystery, legend, and song that reliable primary sources were hard to come by. Sympathetically, Erwyn remarked that academia was largely a mistake.

Kriv finished his drink and Ditto remarked incredulously that she couldn’t believe he’d downed the whole thing. After he remarked he intended to drink more, Erwyn handed him his rum, which he’d taken about two sips of before deciding it had been a mistake.

Ditto Messaged Voski. “Hey, can dragonborn drink more, or is this just him?”

Voski ignored the question and ordered a plate of meatballs. The toothpicks in them had little novelty pirate flags.

Amaranth eventually wandered over to the other part of the bar, where she’d noticed the more criminal-looking types. She first approached a dwarf, who she’d spotted sporting a telltale earring. She tapped a Thieves’ Cant pattern on a nearby table before speaking to him. He replied in turn. In coded talk, she expressed some potential interest in the more criminal element in the city.

Back at the table where the rest of the party was sitting, Voski ordered a second Dark and Stormy and maintained that she was ��drinking a perfectly reasonable amount, shut up, Kriv.”

The dwarf asked how long Amaranth was going to be in town and she admitted not much longer, but they were intending to come back, and she’d remember his face next time they were in town. He told her not to mention any of this to Roger, the kobold who ran the place, as he was really only affiliated with the “upper level,” but that if she was interested in any exclusive events in the area she should come back and ask for Carlotta.

Amaranth sauntered back to the table and happily announced that the bar was seedier than originally thought. Voski said she didn’t care unless that element tried to kill them, but referred to it as networking. Kriv asked if there was any money in it. As Amaranth was fairly drunk at this point, she answered a little louder than was strictly necessary, catching some glares from the people she’d talked to in the back – as well as the parrot at the bar. Erwyn seemed distressed by the talk and mentioned he didn’t exactly feel like they needed more sources of money, as he was more well-off thanks to their adventuring than he was accustomed to. Kriv pointed out that they weren’t exactly being paid and needed a source of income or it would run out eventually, while Amaranth maintained that at least criminals would pay you for the work you do.

Kriv put down his empty rum glass and slapped his face, using Lay on Hands to get rid of his drunkenness. He gleefully announced that if Amaranth ever got drunk in a non-party situation he had a solution and would just “slap the shit” out of her as a DIY hangover cure.

“Truly, Bahamut’s gifts are… noble,” Erwyn sighed.

Amaranth started singing along to some of the shanties that the band was playing. A group of halfling wine mom types who’d been dancing to the music noticed this and dragged her over, prompting her to try to get the rest of the bar to sing along with her. After she came back to the booth, she mentioned to the group that Hubris had told her about another bar in the area where you could wrestle bears – which Erwyn was concerned about until she clarified they were druids, who just turned into bears for the wrestling. Kriv asked Amaranth if she intended to wrestle a bear if they went there, which she adamantly said she would.

“Amaranth, do you think one of these little noodles could wrestle a bear?” Kriv asked, picking up one of her arms and waving it around. “You couldn’t even wrestle me.”

Amaranth took that as a challenge.

“You know,” Voski said, “There’s a lot of fables that start with this exact premise, and a lot of them end in brutal slaughter.”

“That’s what I live for!” Amaranth said.

“Are you just going to wrestle out in the street?” Erwyn asked.

Kriv said he wasn’t sure the bartender would approve them wrestling in his bar, but Roger seemed very into what was unfolding.

“I’ve been to bars where everyone was fighting, or someone was murdered,” Amaranth slurred. “This is nothing. This place has the spirit, it’s trying and just needs a little help to get there.”

Some of the other patrons at the bar had taken note at this point and started egging the pair on. Amaranth requested a rowdy shanty from the band as Kriv started rolling up his sleeves. He told her wrestling meant no weapons, and she pulled multiple knives out of her clothing to discard them.

“Yes, have fun, this is a great idea,” Voski said as they squared up, Inspiring Amaranth.

Amaranth flung herself at Kriv and slammed into him, but the dragonborn remained solidly standing.

“Hey Amaranth, do you know what my name means?” Kriv said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“What? I don’t know Draconic,” she said.

“It means ‘wall,’” he replied, before pinning her to the ground.

Amaranth tried to wriggle out of the grapple and failed. Kriv held her down and talked about how he used to have a lot of fun wrestling with his brother, and that she really needed to step it up a bit. The halflings from earlier cheered her on. Eventually she managed to squeeze out of his grip and rolled away, before getting up and climbing on his back.

“You know, I tried this many times with Erna,” Kriv said, before falling backwards and taking her with him. “It never really worked.”

Despite Kriv now being on top of her, Amaranth clung to him tighter and tried to give him a noogie to get him to let her go. Kriv started to theatrically flail and roll over to the side. Amaranth and the audience both totally thought her ploy was working.

“At any point you can say you quit,” Kriv said, flipping around and putting her into a headlock.

“Never!” Amaranth shouted,

Despite her protests, Amaranth was visibly flagging. The two of them sparred a bit longer, and Amaranth looked around for something new to work with and grabbed a chair. Voski tried, too late, to grab it away from her, and Kriv warned her against it, reminding her about personal property. Amaranth slammed the chair into Kriv, who was merely jostled but remained standing. He looked nervously at the tavern owner, worried that the act would get them in trouble, but the kobold seemed to be loving it. Ditto cheered the two of them on, while the others in the group – namely Erwyn – seemed to be trying their best to act like they hadn’t come in with the pair.

Kriv threw Amaranth against an empty table. She did a cool backflip and landed on her feet at the other side. She stood on top of the table, made a flying leap at Kriv, and ended up landing flat on her face. One of the halfling women, impassioned, picked up a chair and ran at Kriv herself, swinging at his leg and missing the attack. Amaranth just lay defeated on the ground, having effectively knocked herself out. Kriv asked for the crowd to give her some applause.

“Alright, and that has been our production of act three, scene seven of The Clash of the Giants,” Voski said, addressing the crowd herself. “As you can see, it’s a very valuable object lesson in meaningless, endless, constantly escalating conflict. We’re the Scalegloss Players; you’ll find us somewhere.”

In the middle of Voski’s speech, Amaranth suddenly woke up with a “Wooo!,” her fist shooting up to hit Kriv’s nose as he revived her. He tossed her arm over his shoulder and took a bow. The halfling who had picked up the chair went over to the pair, thanking Amaranth, who told her that she could always start a bar fight anytime herself – prompting an alarming glimmer in the woman’s eyes. Kriv healed Amaranth for the damage she’d taken in the fight.

“Thanks, Kriv. I won, right?” Amaranth asked, still drunk.

“You won in the hearts of your fans,” he told her.

Roger offered Amaranth a drink for the road, as thanks for her thrilling contribution to the evening on her way out.

“I actually think I prefer going places with you all when we’re in danger of dying,” Erwyn said as they left.

“It’s still early,” Voski replied.

#session recap

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bluboothalassophile · 7 years

Note

Hi there,blu !! is there a chance for a continuation of the historical au ?? :)

Hello,

Always a pleasure to revisit this AU and I hope you enjoy! =)

Wild Red Bird

Jason did not like to think about marriage. He didn’t wantto worry about that as he already had other worries on his mind as they docked.His grandmother held firmly onto his grandfather’s arm, and Jason paused totake a moment to appreciate it. If he were to ever marry, he wanted to do itfor love, and to have something lasting like his grandparents. It was why heshied away from marriage.

Pausing he caught the little bird behind him when he heardher soft gasp as Damian shoved past her. She caught his arm, and heinstinctively pulled her close as he walked the rest of the way down the plankwith a beautiful lady on his arm. Yes, Rachel was a beautiful woman. There wasa large black man awaiting them at the docks, and Jason started assessing theman as a possible threat when the giant broke into a smile.

“Rachel!”

“Victor!” she smiled, and he felt her quicken before she haltedherself, and her face was quickly back in it’s indifferent mask she typicallywore.

“Go on,” Jason motioned, releasing her. The maid bit her lipand flicked her eyes to his family, they were so engrossed with each other theywouldn’t have noticed her though. Then that drab gray little creature was offin a flurry of skirts as she hiked them up and in the first act of unladylikedecorum she ran. Her wretched cap fluttered off her head as her black hairescaped it’s confines of a bun. Jason’s breath hitched seeing her beauty as shequickly leapt to the giant black servant who laughed. Rachel was smiling as shewas spun around.

“Oh it is so good to see you Victor!” Rachel was laughing asJason approached and it was the prettiest thing he had ever heard; having neverheard it before.

“I heard you were coming in this morning, I traded Garbefore he knew,” Victor smiled.

“I am pleased to see you, it is a welcomed surprise,” shechuckled.

“And who might this be?” Jason asked his maid, her capbehind his back and in his fingers.

“Oh, Master Jason, this is Victor Stone, he is a very dearfriend, rather like my brother,” Rachel smiled at Victor, it was radiant.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Jason held his hand out, ahabit ingrained in him, and the black man hesitated a moment before Jason’shand was engulfed with a firm grip.

“A pleasure to meet Rachel’s new employers,” Victor smiled. “You’retreating her well from what she’s penned.”

“She’s a wonderful addition to the staff, and family,” Jasonsaid.

“Will you get my bags, I fear them getting wet,” Martha saidsuddenly.

“I will get them,” Rachel moved to leave.

“I got them, you get in the shotgun, still good with arifle?” Victor asked.

“Are we to expect trouble?” Rachel asked and Jason’s browquirked.

“You never know,” Victor said.

“I see, I will be prepared,” Rachel decided as she returnedto her indifferent façade and started pulling that beautiful mass of straightblack hair up.

“Got your knife?” Victor asked. Jason quirked his brow evenmore at this question.

“I always I have my knife.”

“Good, we need to talk.”

“Very well, I will help with securing the load,” Rachel saidas she walked to the carriage.

“I must go on some company errands, I will join the family ina few days,” Jason said to Raven as he handed her cap back up to him.

“You are aware of where we will be?” she asked.

“Yes, I’ll see you soon sunshine.”

“I must insist you stop calling me such a ridiculous name,Master Jason.”

“Never,” he gave her a roguish smile as he saluted her andwalked through the docks. He would further pry into the mystery of Miss Rachel Rothlater, but for now he was needed to go to the Embassy. He was to be introducedto his partner in Europe. Jason supposed that it was to be expected, for it wasnow only a matter of a single act to cause Germany to mount a war. But whatthat act would be they did not know.

So, Jason was meeting his contacts here in Great Britainbefore possibly being sent off on a mission. Hopefully one which would get himout of any possible marriage arrangements. He would not be married if he wasnot around. A bridegroom was needed for the bride after all.

“Ah, Mr. Wayne,” a sickly man with a bowler’s hat and canegreeted him. Jason looked over to the younger man, a man about his age, blondblue eyes, and handsome face.

“Sir Patrick Morgan, and,” Jason shook the sickly man’s handfirst before looking at the blond.

“Captain Steve Trevor, 94th Aero Squadron, UnitedStates Army,” the man held out his hand.

“Jason Wayne,” Jason said with a smile as he took the otherman’s hand. He liked this man, he couldn’t even say why that was, but there wasair around him.

“We are here to discuss the German aggression,” Sir Patricksaid.

“Of course, I have the information,” Jason said as he followedthem. He had a feeling that he was about to be entering a brutal war, one thatwould change the course of the world.

Not that he wanted to be in a war. And he knew America was standingon being neutral. However, some information and moves of the enemy were to beshared. Walking into the room he was ready for his discussion about the comingmoves of the Germans, from what he had gathered from his German contacts.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Rachel sat with Victor, her hat secured on her head again.

“What was it you wished to speak to me about?” she askedsoftly.

“It’s about Lucifer’s sons,” he said lowly.

“What about them?”

“They’re after you, Rachel,” he said softly.

“They do not even know I exist,” she said carefully.”

“Apparently they do, and they are German, not French, partof the Rohr house,” Victor said.

Rachel paled at that word. “Rohr?”

“Yes.”

“Not Roth?”

“No.”

“Bullocks.”

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #one-shot #rachel roth #jason todd #historical au #steve trevor #jayrae #redrae #raex

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riyuyami · 7 years

Text

I decided to mix them both together, haha.

So here’s two drabbles in one of Yami and U-2 doing tasks for “Lady” after meeting her.

Yami felt U-2′s hand gripping his own tightly as they walked along the wooden boards, hearing the voice of that... copy, of Lady, speaking to them, about the bodies that surrounded them.

He chanced a glance backwards, seeing Joey pacing around the platform of the entrance to this hall. He seemed to be looking everywhere but at the corpses of himself and those mimics of the Doom Boys.

“You can go back if you want, U-2.” Yami frowned, his attention now on his companion. The Toon shook his head, droplets of ink flying about, well, if U-2 wanted to keep going...

They entered a hallway after getting off the planks of wood, seeing posters for Lady, including a cardboard cutout, much like the Yamis scattered everywhere. Both jumped when they heard loud noises coming from a room at the end of the hall, and U-2 started to drip more and more as they walked.

The room they entered was small, but a huge window on the back wall let them see a horrifying sight.

There was a Doom Boy, Raphael, strapped to a table, being painfully shocked to death by the other person in the windowed room. There stood what appeared to be a mutated version of Lady Harpy, at the controls of the torture machine.

Her body was almost human-like, minus her left arm being like a wing and a bird’s leg. From her back sprouted one, broken, inky wing, almost hidden in her long, blond hair.

She turned her head, staring at the two Toons with her one, violet eye. Her left eye was a hollow socket, occupied only by a few feathers sticking out of the corner of it. Her mouth was damaged, looking rotten on the left side, with more feathers. The little hearts on Lady’s face, the actual Lady, were painted on with ink on this mimic.

“So... you decided to come find me.” She said, her voice almost seemed to have an echo to it, another voice unlike her own. “And you brought... that FREAK... with you...” She hissed, pointing at U-2.

The tiny Toon tensed up, his grip on Yami’s hand was rather painful. U-2 hissed, trying to seem like a threat, but it seemed ridiculous with how much he was dripping and how badly he was shaking.

He wasn’t a freak...

Yami frowned and looked at “Lady”. “Yeah, we came here to find ya.” He huffed, his other hand gripping his gent pipe tightly.

“Lady” leaned against her control box, staring at him. "Hm. Now we come to the question... Do I kill you? ...Do I tear you two apart to my heart's delight? The choices of the beautiful are unbearable. How's a girl to choose?”

She laughed before hissing, turning to Raphael’s body. “Take this little freak for instance! He crawled in here... Trailing his tainted ink to my door! It could have touched me! It could have pulled me back!!”

“Lady” looked terrified, actually scared. “Do you know what it's like? Living in the dark puddles? It's a buzzing, screaming well of voices! Bits of your mind, swimming... like... like fish in a bowl! The first time I was born from its' inky womb, I was a wriggling, pussing, shapeless slug. The second time... well... It made me a beautiful song bird! I will not let the demon touch me again. I'm so close now. So... almost perfect. Unlike that little thing next to you. The one that was made to replace you.”

Yami frowned deeply, noting that U-2′s tail was swishing around wildly, like a cat’s when it’s ready to strike.

The human-toon chuckled, hands on her hips as she watched the little Toon. “Look at him, trying to be so brave. You weren’t like that for these past twenty years, always hiding away, too scared to face the truth of this place. But I suppose someone as pathetic as you can only hide, no wonder they decided to ditch a little mistake like you so early on in your career.”

U-2 growled and grabbed a wad of ink from his hair, ready to throw it at the glass, but Yami took his hand, shaking his head. Best to not provoke her, at all.

“Amusing, you have a back bone now... that could be helpful.” “Lady” commented, thinking on this. “Yes. I will spare you. For now. Better yet... I'll even let you ascend and leave this place. If you will do a few eensy, weensy little favors for me first. Return to the lift, my little errand boys. We have work to do!"

Metal grates suddenly slammed down in front of the windows, and the sounds of torture continued behind the sheets of metal and glass. U-2 let out a loud huff of breath, looking so unnerved and upset, rubbing at his eyes. He wasn’t a mistake, he didn’t ask to be like this, but it is what it is...

He felt a hand on his head, gently rubbing his inky hair. He blinked and looked up at Yami with his mix-matched eyes. He gave a small, wobbly smile, before following his friend out.

“I feel like destroying these cutouts of me is a big middle finger to me...” Yami frowned, swinging the axe at the cutout in front of him, slashing it, breaking it.

Not that far from him, U-2 did the same to another Yami cutout, except with his tail. He frowned, looking at the damage, this was such a weird task, why destroy the cutouts? They weren’t doing anything to them, maybe “Lady” didn’t like sharing the spotlight with so much merchandise centered on Yami?

He gasped, clutching his chest, feeling his heart beating hard and loud.

Oh... oh no, that was a sign, that “Yami” was approaching.

U-2 let out a squeak of warning, grabbing at Yami’s coat sleeve, patting at his chest to tell him that they had to go! Yami looked at him, confused. “What’s wrong, little one?”

Black eyes widened when he noticed black lines forming on the walls, hearing loud, heavy breathing.

U-2 was frozen in place as his eyes widened at the form that appeared out of the wall behind Yami. It was the monster! It seemed to pause, its attention to the broken cardboard on the ground.

Its smile remained in place, but it let out a very loud, very angry roar as it turned, swiping at them. U-2 snapped out of it, and grabbed Yami’s hand, pulling him along, trying to find a safe spot, because “Yami” was now chasing them.

“Run! Faster!” Yami shouted, gripping U-2′s hand with all his might, not wanting to be attacked! He screamed in pain when he felt something strike his back, hard, hearing fabric tear from the slash against him when “Yami” got close enough.

The smaller Toon looked back, shocked, his ink running more and more. The right side of his face was soaked in running ink as his purple eye stared at the pained look on Yami’s face, and the gleeful one on his monster counterpart’s.

He snarled and wrapped his tail around Yami, hearing a pained gasp, before he dropped to his hands and knees. He inhaled sharply and bolted without a warning, holding Yami up off the ground with his tail as he ran as quickly as he could on his hands and feet.

He didn’t stop until he spotted a room and threw himself and Yami inside, slamming the door. Quickly, still dealing with the adrenaline rush, he pushed a desk in front of the door, blocking it.

A loud, harsh gasp caught U-2′s attention and he found Yami on his side, beads of ink running down his face from the pain to his back. Moving behind him, U-2 found that Yami’s back had three long, painful looking slashes across it, ink spreading from the tears in his jacket.

“It hurts... it hurts...” Yami hisses, looking up at U-2 with pleading eyes.

U-2 froze up again, this... this seemed familiar, but with a smaller wound on Yami...

He remembered... the phantom touch of holding a hand that was leaking ink, a torn glove, got his hand caught on something...

The image of a pen, and a small vial of ink from the Ink Machine.

The feeling of pride for helping someone out who asked for his help specifically.

Reaching behind himself, U-2 pulled out a pen, looking at it, before setting it down. He got Yami out of his jacket, before having him lay down on his stomach. He gently rubbed the other’s head before he used the ink from his own hair to fill the pen.

He carefully began to draw on Yami’s back, careful to fix the cuts just right, to make them disappear, to leave no imperfections. An artist always needs to know what methods to use when repairing damage to their art.

It was silent for a while, with only Yami’s small grunts of discomfort and U-2′s pen scratching filling the room. Finally, when the last mistake was fixed, U-2 smiled a little in pride at the perfect back and tank top he saw before him. He couldn’t fix the jacket with the pen, but he was able to fix Yami’s original shirt and his skin just fine.

Yami sat up, feeling a faint tingle in his back as the new ink settled in place. There was no more pain though, everything felt fine. “You... you repaired me... you saved my life and you fixed my back.” Yami mumbled, stunned, as he looked at the bashful Toon.

He smiled and reached over, gently petting his new friend’s head. “I owe you for this, little one, thank you.”

U-2 grinned, giving him a happy squeak, before putting the pen back behind him. All in a day’s work as an expert animator’s cartoon copy.

#yugioh #yami and the ink machine #inky thoughts #yami yugi #yugi mutou #mai kujaku #john's drabbles

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tact-and-impulse · 7 years

Text

At Arm’s Length Chapter 7

Okay, I managed to take this down before the next Hokkaido arc chapter! Yeah! Although that’s because I don’t feel well enough to do my classwork, shh...but novel news is tiding me over... This story can be found on FF.net, AO3.

Interlude: Cicadas in Spring

In the start of April, the weather was unpredictable, warm one day and chilly the next. Colds were going around, and Koshijiro had developed a cough. Fortunately, he didn’t have a fever, but he made the decision to stay home, to prevent infecting his colleagues. Three days of hot broth and tea had helped, yet the cough still lingered.

From within his room, he heard his daughter calling out. “Yahiko! Yahiko…you’re not him! Geez, the two of you have similar hair.”

“Tch, lay off.” That was Sagara’s voice. He must have arrived this morning.

For the past couple of weeks, Yahiko had been skipping practice. It was infrequent, but he didn’t mention a word to Kaoru and that was unacceptable behavior from a student. Koshijiro wound a scarf around his neck, before checking further within the house. There was no sign of the boy anywhere, his bed had been made and his shoes were missing as well. Koshijiro turned towards the porch, where his daughter was sitting. Himura had both hands in soapy water and laundry, as Sagara chewed on the remnants of a grilled fish.

Kaoru greeted him. “Good morning, Otou-san. Yahiko’s not hiding inside, is he?”

“No, I didn’t see him.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “He’s disappeared again. I wonder what he’s doing…”

“I bet he’s gone to meet a girl.” Sagara gave a sly smile.

“No way. With the way he eats, it’s more likely to be food.”

“Or he could be training.” Himura suggested. He looked particularly contemplative, or maybe, it was because he was scrubbing at a stain. “By now, he should be thinking more about the sword.”

It remained a mystery, for Yahiko didn’t return until late afternoon. Surprisingly, he endured Kaoru’s scolding without much of a fight. “I was in town, okay?”

“And what were you doing?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m at the dojo, four out of six days a week.” That answer didn’t seem to please Kaoru, and she looked even more frustrated.

Koshijiro chose not to step in. It was best she had to deal with this issue herself, as a teacher. He also had his own idea about Yahiko’s absences: that the boy had taken on a job for pay. He could understand wanting pocket money. When he was at that age, he had tried to save up on his own. Although, that was because of his circumstances at the time…

Yahiko was let off with a warning, although he brushed it off. As he trudged to the bathhouse, Koshijiro said to his daughter. “I hope you have a plan to deal with him further.”

“Oh, I do. Next week, we’re going to follow him into town. You, me, Kenshin, and Sanosuke. He won’t notice at all.”

It sounded risky, but in the end, curiosity won out. Once Yahiko crept past the gate, they followed some distance behind. His shinai was strapped to his back, but that didn’t compensate for his poor surveillance skills, as he only looked to the left and right. He was acting suspicious too, meandering here and there through the streets.

Himura had been in front and he stopped. “Oro? The Akabeko?” Yahiko had slipped inside, barely moving the doors.

“Ah, so it was food!” Kaoru clenched a fist in victory.

But when they entered, the restaurant was empty, save for a few customers. Tae noticed them, waving. “Hello, everyone! Would you like a table?”

“In a minute.” Kaoru explained. “We’re looking for Yahiko.”

“You just missed him. I sent him to get more charcoal from the back.”

“Is he working here?”

“Mm, only errands. Although…I was supposed to keep it a secret.” Concern touched her expression. “Is he in trouble?”

“No, it’s fine. But why would he do something like this?”

Sagara stood on tiptoe, peering past them. “I might have an idea.” He jerked his chin towards a young girl around Yahiko’s age. She wore the uniform of a waitress, and she had delicate features and short hair.

Tae murmured. “That’s Tsubame, she started a few days after Yahiko did. Tsubame? Can you help Yahiko with the charcoal?”

“Yes, Tae-san.” She was a little nervous, quickly bowing before running to her destination.

“Oh, dear, I hope she doesn’t trip over herself.”

“She seems like a good worker.” Koshijiro noted, as the others crowded around the back door. Yahiko was shouldering a sack of charcoal, but they were out of his line of sight. Tsubame had fallen, and he lifted her bag for her.

Tsubame scrambled to her feet, looking more mussed than before. “I’m sorry, Yahiko-chan.”

“I don’t like being called that.” He grumbled. “And stop being so jumpy. ‘Discipline your movements.’ That’s part of swordsmanship.” He was saying the last more to himself, as he adjusted the weight of both bags.

Avoiding Yahiko’s entrance, they recouped in the dining area. There was no danger of being sighted now, for Tae said that his duties were anything but cooking and serving.

Sagara counted off his fingers. “A girl, food, training. Well, we were all kind of right, but there’s no clear motive to start working here.”

“I give him a small salary. He could be helping out with household expenses.” Tae said, which Kaoru and Sagara quickly dismissed.

“No way!”

“That brat wouldn’t.”

Tae looked dejected, and Koshijiro told her. “It was a good guess. However, we were unaware he was being paid.” He turned away, his throat acting up again, and was overtaken by a sudden fit of coughing.

“Here, Kamiya-dono.” Himura had refilled his cup. “More tea will help.”

“Thank you.” He managed to reply, before forcing down the hot liquid.

“I’ll make another pot.” Tae excused herself. As she walked back to the kitchen, she passed Tsubame, who was hurrying to assist another table.

When the girl saw the occupants, she took a step backwards, her eyes wide. She looked about, clutching her skirt. “Um, I’ll lead you to the outhouse.” She seemed very small, compared to the three men who followed her. The door slammed behind them.

“…This one will return shortly.” Himura grabbed his sword and left the table.

After a pause, Koshijiro stood. “I’ll go as well.” He had a suspicion that Tsubame’s nervousness this time was because of those customers. As expected, the only one near the outhouse was Himura. He glanced at Koshijiro, lifting a finger to his lips. Quietly, they headed down the nearby side street.

A couple of turns later, Koshijiro furtively looked around a corner, at the ensuing scene. There were five more men now, and they were armed with bokken. They had ganged up on Yahiko, beating him as he curled on the ground. Tsubame cried out, begging them to stop.

Anger rose within Koshijiro. Yahiko was only a child, and he didn’t have much of a chance against these brutal men. But Himura had his sakabato and wasn’t moving.

There was a hiss from behind them. “Are you just going to stand there?” Sagara nudged Himura with his foot. “Don’t just watch.”

Kaoru had also joined them, pushing them aside. “Then, I’ll go. He’s my student, I’m responsible for him.”

“One moment.” Himura tugged at her ponytail, too briefly for Koshijiro to remind him about the rule. “This is something Yahiko must do on his own.”

“What are you talking about? He’s in danger.”

“If we step in, he’ll know we were following him. And if you are always rescued, you’ll never become strong. We should only help him, when he asks for it.”

Koshijiro acknowledged Himura’s perspective, and he had to side with it. It was true that Yahiko was still young, but he had responsibilities as a student of the sword. And because of them, he had to be mature, early on. Quietly, Koshijiro admitted. “Himura’s right, these lessons are valuable and can only be learned through experience. However, we’ll continue to watch him.”

The men had stopped, once Tsubame gave them what they wanted. It was a key-shaped model, and the leader, a man with droopy eyes, snickered as they walked away. Tsubame ran over to a wincing, bruised Yahiko.

He wiped the corner of his mouth, his sleeve coming away with smeared blood. “They’ll only need a day to make a replica of the key. They’ll break into Tae’s house tomorrow night.”

“Yahiko-chan. Oh, I mean, Yahiko-kun…”

“No, I don’t care. I couldn’t beat them, could I?” He sounded terribly bitter. “Don’t worry about me, I decided to help you. And I’m not giving up.”

In silence, they watched him, as he limped down the street. It was his fight. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be around, if he needed them.

***

The following morning was just like yesterday, except there was some kind of contraption in the yard. A log had been propped up, two bamboo poles crossed at its top. Four wooden planks hung down from each of the four ends.

Koshijiro sipped his second cup of tea. “Did you make this, Yahiko?”

He was stretching, rotating his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s, uh, a new way of training. For many enemies at once.”

“It won’t be much use. Think about it.” On the porch, Kaoru propped her chin in her hands. “The boards move in a fixed way, it’s not like how people move. They think and plan, and make complicated, coordinated attacks. This will just help your reflexes.”

Yahiko tapped his shinai in his hand. “If you know all that, then what should I do instead?”

That was outside of Kaoru’s experience. Even in Kanryuu’s mansion, her opponents had been fought one at a time. She hesitated. “Well, you should…make it one on one.”

“That’s not any help!”

“It is, actually.” Himura spoke up, from his spot near the laundry tub. “If you’re faced with a group, run away.” Yahiko was about to protest, but Himura continued. “Or rather, make it seem like you’re running away. As they follow you, it will be more apparent, who’s slower or faster. That way, you can take them on one at a time, as long as you have speed and stamina.”

“Oh. I get it now.” Yahiko paused, considering the concept. “What about you, Kamiya-san? You fought in wars too. Any advice?”

“Rely on your practice. Kaoru’s taught you well, don’t put it to waste.”

He glanced at Kaoru. “Okay.”

“And remember something else that’s important.” She said. “Kamiya Kasshin is the sword that protects. That’s why you can’t fail or surrender, for the sake of whoever you’re fighting for.”

He nodded, looking more resolute. “I understand.”

In the end, the contraption was only used for honing reflexes. It was useful in that respect, but not very sturdy, and it was taken down before dinner. The sky grew dark over the house, and Yahiko slipped out, thinking he had been discreet. However, they did notice, and Sagara and Himura departed to tail him. Kaoru paced back and forth for a while, until at last, she picked up her own bokken. “I said all I could, but I’m still worried.”

“And that’s perfectly fine. You wouldn’t be a good teacher otherwise.”

She smiled. “Then, let’s go. Just in case, of course.” Her ponytail bobbed as she walked past the gate, and Koshijiro remarked.

“Have you thought about wearing your hair in a bun?”

“Not really, why?”

“So Himura isn’t tempted to pull it.”

“Otou-san…”

“He acted like a schoolboy yesterday.”

She gave a distasteful expression. “Kenshin isn’t a schoolboy. I thought you two were getting along!” She stomped further ahead, before halting. “Is that…?”

A familiar, short-haired girl huddled in the shadow of a building, peering around its corner. She hadn’t seen them, her attention on a dark alley.

“Yes, that appears to be Tsubame.” Koshijiro said. “But this isn’t near the Akabeko, it’s a dead end.”

“I know.” Kaoru went over to her, clasping her shoulder. “Good evening, although it isn’t very safe at night.”

Tsubame jumped. “Who are you?”

“I’m Yahiko’s teacher. I know what’s happening, and I thought you might be here to try and stop those men.”

She looked down. “Mikio-sama, or rather, Nagaoka-san belongs to the family mine served for generations. I didn’t know how to refuse him. So, I thought if I could stop them, Yahiko-chan wouldn’t be hurt.”

“Right now, it seems like it’s too late. He’s made it all the way here, to fight them off. You’ll have to trust Yahiko, and make a promise to yourself.”

“A promise?”

“That if Yahiko wins, you will also be stronger. This is a new era, and the four classes are equal. Your heart must reflect that, and if Nagaoka comes back to you, tell him no from the beginning. You’re not obligated to serve him, your duty is to what you believe is right. That’s how you have to live now.”

Abruptly, seven men ran out from around the corner. As they rushed past, Koshijiro heard them muttering ‘Battousai’ and ‘Zanza’. So, the other two were nearby, showing their presence. He glimpsed into the alley, but Yahiko was still fighting the leader. Nagaoka lunged, aiming low.

“Yahiko-kun!” Tsubame called out, no longer hiding. She stood straight, facing him. “Please, win!”

With a shout, Yahiko threw his weight on his right foot, stopping Nagaoka’s bokken. It snapped on the ground, and as Nagaoka faltered, Yahiko seized the opportunity for a head strike. He had won, decisively so.

Kaoru stepped over Nagaoka’s unconscious body, beaming at Yahiko. “You did it! As expected of my first student!” She was so proud, she hugged him.

“W-what? Get off!” He spluttered and twisted away. “Wait. If you’re here, then that means…” He whipped around.

Koshijiro caught a flash of movement from the closest rooftop, and then, an incredibly poor imitation of cicadas humming.

“There aren’t cicadas in spring!” Yahiko ground out. “Kenshin and Sano!”

They emerged, appearing nonchalant. Himura rubbed the back of his head. “Oro…”

“It wasn’t any of your business. Were you watching the whole time?”

“Yeah, and you weren’t half bad.” Sagara ruffled his hair. “Nice work.”

Himura also smiled. “Yes, you used your surroundings and your training to your advantage. It was good swordsmanship. Well done.”

“Hmph. Anyway, I got the key mold. I was thinking it can be evidence, but, er, Tsubame…” It was possible that she would be in trouble for assisting Nagaoka.

Gently, Kaoru said. “We don’t have to involve Tsubame with the police. As for her job, Tae’s very fair, but it’s late. I’ll escort Tsubame home.”

“Then, take care.” Himura then offered. “We’ll wait for the police, so we can turn in the potential burglar.”

Tsubame didn’t move immediately. “Um, thank you, Yahiko-kun.” There may have been a slight blush on her cheeks.

“I didn’t help you to be thanked.” But he toed the dirt, slightly flustered. “Er…shy and awkward people rub me the wrong way.”

“Yes, so I’m not going to be as shy and awkward.” They exchanged a glance, before she gave a little wave. “I’ll see you at the Akabeko tomorrow.”

Koshijiro and Kaoru went with her, although they weren’t out of earshot, when Sagara demanded. “So, why were you working? You’ve been keeping this secret the whole time.”

“Alright, alright. I want to buy a sakabato, for when I’m as good as Kenshin.” There was a raucous burst of laughter from Sagara, making Yahiko add. “This is exactly why I kept it a secret! D-don’t tell anyone else!”

However, his voice was loud in the quiet evening, and they heard, Kaoru stifling a laugh. So, he was saving up. And that meant…

“Ah, I won.”

“Kamiya-san?” Tsubame blinked. “Did you say something?”

“It’s nothing of importance.” But still, he smiled as they walked on.

#rurouni kenshin #fanfic #at arm's length #kamiya koshijiro

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