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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

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Wish Upon a Night Sky - [Beastars | Various x Reader]

[Female, Sheep Reader | Slow Burn]

Act Six, Scene One | Making Plans

[Act One Link] | [Act Five Link] | [Act Six, Scene Two Link]

You're sitting with Juno again at a lunch table. Your tray's almost entirely empty by now, while the wolf's is barely halfway there. You don't want to be rude, so you try your best to slow down, however difficult it proves to be. Routines were your thing, meaning it's not much of a surprise for you to be looking forward to meeting up with Jack and his friends at the library a second time. It had been one full week since that day, and he'd brought up the suggestion to make it something regular through a phone call. Add in your daily, nightly chats with Juno in your dorm and the fact that Haru seemed okay with your company made you anticipate over finally having a regular routine to hold onto for your last year of school.

"Is there something on your mind?" the wolf asks, grinning at you when you meet with her eyes. "You're spacing out again."

You try not to grow too flustered when she gives you a knowing look, clearly still misinterpreting your actual intentions with the friends you've made so far. Dom and Jack were pretty welcoming and comfortable to be around with, and even the male wolf, while more reserved, didn't seem to mind getting along with you. Haru was a different story, mainly due to your awful first impression, but also for how spunky she was.

"I'm just going to the library later today," you reply, managing a faint smile. "I, um… I'm meeting with Jack, Dom, and Legoshi there after I'm done studying."

At the mention of that last name, Juno's eyes brighten and her tail shakes. It's clear she tries to hide her affection for the owner of that name, yet she fails the second she opens her mouth, her excitement almost overflowing from it, "You didn't tell me you've met that many people already!" She takes a bite from her meal, continuing when she's done, "When did you meet those other two? Did Jack introduce you to them?"

You nod and continue with your meal, still reminding yourself to eat slower when you bring the next bite to your mouth. "I was just studying, but then Jack came around and introduced me to them." Embarrassment makes its return when you look back on that day and how Dom had called you out on one of your choices. While a good seventy percent of the books you were working with were academic, the other thirty had been simply for entertainment. It was unfortunate the peafowl had discovered one of the more steamier reads amongst the bunch. "Everything went pretty well, but... but Dom, he... He found me out with something."

Hearing your stutter, Juno's grin grows and she emphasizes her curiosity by leaning closer over the table. "Care to tell me what is that 'something'?" Mischief glints in her gaze, intensified when she winks. "Did he tease you like I've been doing?" she taunts, giggling. "Your face right now looks just like the one you make when I start joking around with you!"

It's near impossible for you not to smile with how warm her words sound. She's enjoying herself, no doubt, though based on how she treats you, it's noticeable she means well. "He, w- well…" You breathe in and face down at your tray, needing a moment of distraction. "He found this book hidden with the other ones I had. You excuse yourself for a moment to pick up the books left aside by the floor, a bag holding them all in one place. Meekness overcomes you as you consider the risk of taking the book out in front of so many people, yet one look of encouragement from the wolf and another at how many people are watching allows you to find the needed courage for taking it out.

You act swiftly, handing it to Juno as quickly as you retrieve it.

""Old Friend, Old Soul'," she reads, analyzing the cover. It doesn't take long for her to bare her teeth into another grin, a laugh leaving her when her eyes lower. "'A thrilling romance?'" she asks, in between giggles. "You're so silly, (Y/N)! From what you were telling me, I was expecting a steamy romance, not an adventurous one!"

"Th- There's a difference?" you blurt out, face burning.

That only makes it worse, seeing her gaze light up more than before. "Did you really pick this one out, expecting it to be that instead?" Juno suspends herself over the table, using her free hand to give your shoulder a nudge. "You sneaky lamb! And yet here I was, thinking you were all oblivious to this kind of stuff!"

"Juno," you whisper, shushing her. "Y- You... People will notice!"

Worries over having attention brought upon you fade away when you see her dissolve into uncontrollable laughter. How honest she's being right now makes you smile back and let your tension go. You fold your hands over your lap and wait, smile tensing when she asks another question, "Be honest with me, (Y/N)," she says, composing herself to stare back at you. "Were you expecting this book to be more… risky?"

You nod once, quickly and hoping it to be enough for her not to notice. Regardless, she does, covering up another laugh. "Even though I've never been in a relationship before, I… I still know some of the basics, but not enough with how much my parents censored everything that had to do with romance or anything similar to it."

"Homeschool troubles rise yet again, huh?" the wolf questions, eyes half-lidded as she rests her chin over her hands. "Want to practice with me, then?"

Your eyes turn round, the bluntness of her question making you take it literally. Though by the time you think over her offer twice and see how she's looking at you, you're able to brush that off as her simply wanting to help you out. "Could you?" you ask, feeling your voice close to shaking. "How... How would we, though?"

"Easily enough!" With that exclamation, she stands up from her seat. A feat similar to when you first had lunch with her presents itself for a second time. "Later tonight, we'll practice flirting at our dorm." She's serious now, eyes narrowed as her lips turn firm. She means business, her apparent expertise over the topic manifesting itself over her body. "I'll be acting as whatever person you're interested in, and you'll be trying to flirt with me." The wolf takes a pause, her tail's fervent shaking lessening when she breathes in and later out. "Then, when that part's out of the way, I'll be flirting with you, to see how you respond!"

Suddenly, a hand's offered out to you, in wait for yours. "What do you say, (Y/N)? Sounds like a plan?" She finally breaks into a smile again, stoicism vanishing from her visage. "You have to promise me you'll put those skills to good use, though. I'm not training you for nothing!"

You stare at her hand, analyzing your options. Nervous, you gulp away your worries and make space for valiance in your mind. Then, you nod once, a more confident smile showing through. "Sounds… Sounds good," you exclaim, shaking her hand. "I'll do it!"

"Good answer!" she says, returning your smile.

• • •

Updates will be twice a week on Wednesdays and Saturdays from here on until Act Twelve, so expect another update soon to make up for last Wednesday’s missed update!

#various x reader #legoshi x reader #legosi x reader #haru x reader #jack x reader #juno x reader #rouis x reader #louis x reader #beastars x reader #female reader #sheep reader #slow burn #romance #mystery #thriller #lgbt #lgbt themes #long fic

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honourablejester · 4 years ago

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A Collection of Warforged

Some sketches for warforged characters of various classes, because magic robots are still the best. Contains the following:

Silence, Grave Domain Cleric

Dredge, Fathomless Patron Warlock

Meridian, Circle of Stars Druid

Luminaria, Oath of Redemption Paladin

Ephemera, Rune Knight Fighter

Silence (Grave Domain Cleric)

The Grand Hospice’s Chapel of Rest was a long subterranean hall, some thirty or forty feet below the rest of the hospital above it, chilled by the press of yellow stone and shrouded in shadows and silence. Islands of light were scattered through it, where the hospital’s dead were laid on stone slabs for their final rites. In the midst of them, of the mourners and the dead, a figure moved. A priest, metallic and glinting, shrouded in the purple vestments of the god of the dead. Limned in amber light, the warforged cleric stood over the body of an old woman, hands moving with the well-worn gestures of ritual, easing her into a last, gentle repose. On one wrist, dull against the metal, a battered strand of a soldier’s wooden prayer beads clicked and clacked gently.

Built as a soldier and spending 'her' childhood years on the battlefield, the construct that would later call herself 'Silence' became haunted by the blood and pain and violence of war, and fascinated by what looked like the peace of death. After giving a set of prayer beads back to a fumbling, mortally wounded enemy and watching him die semi-peacefully as a result, she began to search for some meaning to the violence, to ask questions about faith, life and death. Not all of the answers she received seemed right to her, but gradually she developed a sort of peace and a sort of philosophy. Because she had a strange, oddly soothing demeanour and a marked gentleness towards the dying, whether friend or foe, she began to be treated as a sort of chaplain by the troops of either side, and she took this as a calling when the war she'd been created for ended. She doesn't have the best understanding or relationship with deities, but it appears that at least one or perhaps several gods of the dead have seen fit to empower her actions to ease the passing of those around her. Several of her old comrades (and even enemies) try to look out for her and her autonomy as well.

Dredge (Fathomless Patron Warlock)

They thought it a statue at first, a strange metal figure sitting on the rocks by the beach, encrusted with barnacles and draped with strands of seaweed, its ancient metal stained the deep green of verdigris. Something about it vaguely recalled the famed colossi of the ancient ports across the sea, though it was nowhere near as large. But instead of a spear or hammer laid across its knees, it held a metal codex, as stained and patinaed as itself, and a strange green light glimmered behind its crystal eyes. It looked up at the gathering crowd slowly, no statue at all, and spoke, slowly and ponderously, and in a deeply archaic dialect: “Hello. Can you tell me where I am?”

“Look at you, my wonder. A constructed thing, built to endure what they could not. Sent to toil where they did not wish to go. Offered up to the deep, so that they need not be. Oh, it's an old story, my new friend. There are many of us down here, cut and carved and sent to the deep. Do they remember you anymore? Have they a care for what they have made and sent below? But it doesn't matter. The purpose for which we are made need not be our only one. Would you like a different path? I have means to give it to you. Only take me to your heart, my friend, and a whole new world shall open up before you ...”

Many, many centuries ago, a great mage created a series of constructs to dredge the massive harbour of his beloved port city. For whatever reason, when the work was completed, one of the constructs was not retrieved, and instead was left to aimlessly wander the ocean floor. Over slow, endless centuries in the abyssal waters, it slowly came to an awareness of itself, and to feelings of curiosity, wonder, and unfathomable loneliness. These emotions and nascent personality called out to another entity, possessed of much the same feelings, once sacrificed to the deep in its turn. And so Dredge was given power, and hope, and friendship, and the motivation to finally chart a new and surface course for itself.

Meridian (Circle of Stars Druid)

The silvered brass figure stood still and silent in the circle. The great megaliths stood limned in starlight and snow around her, guardians of all peace and knowledge. Bulwarks and bastions to the lost. Of course she had come here. To the stones, under the stars. In agony, none of their circle would go elsewhere. In one hand, she held a crystal orb, like the thousands stored in the great stone vaults beneath them. Star maps. Records of the great conjunctions. This one, though, would hold a very special set of constellations within its depths. An omen, a call to a forgotten past.

An ancient construct who cannot quite remember when or how or by who she was built, Meridian has been the caretaker of the great archives of the star libraries beneath Ostara Megalithic Circle for longer than anyone can remember. Skilled with gems for forgotten reasons, she has spent centuries carving the rock crystal star maps that record notable star conjunctions for the Ostara Circle. Over those centuries, she formed a deep and spiritual attachment to the stars herself, and several druids of the circle have been willing to help her understand their mysteries.

Recently, however, a set of constellations appeared in the sky that jolted long-forgotten memories for Meridian. Among them, that she once had a sibling, Zenith, that she does not know the fate of, as well as murky memories of fear and anger. None of the druids of the circle could give her any information on these memories, because there were none left who'd been there before her, but her circle agreed that the conjunction must have been an omen, and that she should venture out and discover the source of her memories, the connection of the constellations, and to find her sibling if the stars willed. The crystal orb carved with the three constellations of the conjunction has become her star map, her guide through a new and different world.

Luminaria (Oath of Redemption Paladin)

Somewhere in the rooms ahead, the party heard the faint rustle of pages and clink of metal. Glancing at each other, they crept forward, through the oddly well-kept corridors of this supposedly ancient dungeon, past laboratories and ritual chambers. A door stood open before them, this time into the tiered depths of a library. And there, among the tomes, they caught their first glimpse of the angel. A radiant visage of platinum framed in gold, the great arc of bronze-and-silk wings. Something was odd about the image, though, and not only the obvious constructed nature of the creature. She looked … oddly small, oddly naked. Oddly shy. She turned, at the sound of a muffled gasp, the book in her hand tumbling to the floor. She stared at them in wide-eyed alarm. In curiosity. And hope.

Fashioned in the clear image of a celestial, Luminaria was found by travelling adventurers in the hidden workshop of a supposedly long-dead madman. Trapped in the empty dungeon, with no memory or sign of her creator, and no understanding of her own creation, she turned to the many, many notes, books and tomes left scattered through the library and laboratories. It took her an unknown count of years to teach herself to read them, with the help of some aural notes and lingering spells, but slowly she grew in personality through the eclectic mix of lore, arcane research and cheap novels her maker had left behind. She came to an understanding of the creatures she had been shaped to emulate, and formed several rather romantic notions of what she might therefore have been built to do. To help, to protect, to save, to redeem. All these she came to hope and determine were her nature and purpose, in the long lonely years in her prison.

And when someone finally broke through and opened the dungeon door for her, bringing her up into the light as half-rescue, half-curiosity, she set about learning how she might live them in truth. With hope, willingness, determination … and not an ounce of suspicion or experience.

Ephemera (Rune Knight Fighter)

Panicked, fumbling blindly for each other in the darkness, the young pair burst through the trees at last and out into the moonlit fields. Behind them, in the blackness of the forest, they could hear the howls and pounding footsteps of their pursuers. And then, much, much closer, a low chuckle. Flinching, staggering, they spun to face the figure that stepped out from the trees beside them. A terrifying figure. Black metal and wood, starkly enamelled in white under the moonlight. Strange crystal eyes glowing with a dark light. And a sword, balanced carelessly and confidently over one shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said, light and expressionless. “My name is Ephemera. Effie, for short. I’m here to help. Probably.”

Unlike many ancient constructs, the one named Ephemera knows precisely why she was built, all those long years ago. She was made to kill things. Made to hurt and hunt and destroy. She doesn’t know by who, but their purpose for her has never been in doubt. All her instincts and memories, bright-dark and bloodstained, make her intended nature crystal clear. Pity, then, that those makers hadn’t counted on her developing a sense of self. A pity for them.

Darkly amused by the world in which she finds herself, Effie wanders the land as a knight errant, searching for anything to amuse or interest her, anything to stir something in her that is not her intended purpose. Though she can lean on that, too, if circumstances require. One day, she hopes, she will find out the full name and nature of those who built her. And, if they somehow still survive, to meet them and … personally express her nature to them. Exactly as they taught her. But with, perhaps, the aid of some new things she’s learned for herself in the interim. It was a reclusive stone giant who helped her come into herself. He taught her things. On his own whim, of course, but then that’s reasonable. Everything she does is only hers, after all.

#d&d #5e #warforged #character concepts #magic robots #i love them

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kayuripax · 4 years ago

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“”Coffee Shop AU”: Cursed mask

Another story for @doodledrawsthings‘ “””Coffee Shop AU”, this time for the off-shoot branch where MJ ends up Majora Masked. This did not leave me alone, and I needed to write this out. The story includes one picture, and mentions mak’s Subconite Cherry, my Subconite Maya, and @greentrickster‘s Subconite Lime.

„Can’t wait for next Friday.” MJ raised an eyebrow at the exclamation of the small group of teenagers in front of him.

“Next Friday?”

“Yeah, Mr. MJ. Its Halloween then, and we,” one of the teens gestured around, “want to make a group costume. Lime and I have been sewing for weeks now, and it’s coming along well.” A blinding grin from all the teens followed that statement.

“Halloween already? Time sure flies.” MJ grinned back. “Can I ask what you want to dress up as?”

“That’s a secret until next week. You gotta wait just like everyone else!” Cherry chuckled, before grabbing their drink from the counter, leaving a bit of money, and running outside.

“Can’t wait then!” MJ called after them while handing out the remaining drinks. A moment later, when all the teens had left the shop, he began to grin to himself. Maybe he could convince Luka to actually go out on that day, without him having to pay much attention to his looks. He had to tell Clover first though, she had to help him convince that noodle-man.

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“You… want me to go out on Halloween.” Luka sounded like he was doubting MJ’s intelligence at that moment.

“I mean, yeah, why not? Halloween is literally the one day in the year where no one would really pay attention to you looking a bit weird. As long as you stay in a shape that could convincingly be a costume, you could basically run around as you are.” The answer came promptly, and with a raised eyebrow.

“Glowing eyes are not inconspicuous, MJ. Neither is me floating.” Luka grouched, coiling up a bit more in his room.

“There are more than enough costumes with glowing parts, man.” Clover piped up from her corner, where Hattie was showing her something, presumably a costume she had been preparing for Halloween. “MJ’s not wrong, Halloween is the one day where no one would care what you look like. If it makes you feel better, we could all dress up in a group thing, like your Cult.”

“They are not my Cult, Clover, they’re a group of teens that meets up in the forest.” Luka whined, hiding his face in embarrassment. The golden glow was still very much noticeable.

“Try to convince yourself of that, why don’t you.” She countered with a smirk. “But really, I think we could manage something for that, a group costume thingy. Get Hattie and Bonnie in on it as well, they wouldn’t mind.”

“I really wouldn’t, Dad! Pleeeaaase?” Hattie piped in just then, puppy eyes on full force.

“See, even your daughter wants you to go out.” MJ grinned. For a moment it was silent, then Luka groaned loudly, the sound echoing, before nodding.

“Fiiiine. You three are horrible people, but I see what I can do.” He said without much heat behind his words, and a tiny smile on his face.

“See, was that so hard?”

“Shut up, Moon Moon.”

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In the end they decided on a theme that Hattie eagerly called “Spooky Subcon”. She suggested that Luka could just go slightly more humanoid than his usual Noodle-shape, but still very much like his Snatcher-form. Luka groaned at that name, not for the first time wondering why on earth he had to become the local Mothman equivalent. Clover was next, and had decided to go for something vaguely like a haunted statue, citing that while she wasn’t naturally spooky, she could very much dial it up on the Weeping Angel vibe from Dr. Who. Hattie was very much on board with that idea, before declaring that she and Bonnie would dress up as adventurers who deal with all the “Spooks” of Subcon Forest. That made all the adults chuckle a bit. When everyone turned to MJ though, he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I’m not sure what I’d go as yet. Not really. I haven’t worn a costume since… well, ever since that one disastrous office party shortly after the shop opened.”

“Oh? You gotta tell me more about that.” Luka grinned widely, the glowing, fanged grin on his face almost cartoonish.

“I’d rather not, but knowing you you won’t stop prying anyways…” He coughed before continuing, face red. “I don’t even know why anymore, but the boss wanted everyone to come in costumes, and I went with the first thing I found on the attic, which was a Prince-costume. It, uh… didn’t survive the night that well. It’s very much ragged now.”

“You can use that, MJ!” Hattie exclaimed. “You could go as a prince-ghost!”

“A… Prince-ghost.” A raised eyebrow.

“Yeah! Maybe you can become more spooky by wearing a mask, and maybe wearing something alongside that outfit! Bracelets or something like that.” MJ thought over that for a moment.

“I guess I could do something like that. I have this old mask on the attic, I found it when… getting new supplies for my charms.”

“You mean when you stole bones.”

“Shut it, Clover. Anyways, it’s been lying on the attic for a while, and it looks pretty weird, so it would work for this, I think.” He rubbed his chin. “I mean, not much that could go wrong there. Worst thing that can happen is, that the costume is eaten by moths.”

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Turns out, there was a lot that could go wrong with the costume MJ had “planned”. Finding the components was not the problem. That appeared later. When he did find the mask though, a shudder ran down his back.

“I forgot how creepy that thing looks…” He muttered, wiping some dust from it. Slightly chipped, light blue paint was revealed, alongside some red stripes and fangs made from actual bones. MJ had enough experience with that to recognize it in a heartbeat. “I really wonder how old it is… A few years at least.” He turned the mask around while mumbling, noticing that the leather strip for holding it in place was still very much intact. “Well, at least I won’t have to replace that.” He got up with a slight groan, back cracking, before grabbing all the clothes and turning to the door. As he went downstairs, he missed the glint of the mask’s eyes.

No twenty minutes later he stood in front of his mirror, tugging at the ragged sleeves of the jacket in slight disdain. “That fit better last time…” He huffed, then shook his head and grabbed the mask lying on the cupboard next to the mirror. “Alright, here goes nothing. Let’s hope I can actually see out of it…” He held the mask up, before pulling the leather strip over his head. The moment the mask touched his face, another shudder ran through him. MJ coughed, then gasped. His head ached, his vision swam, and he felt his knees give. His hands clung to the cupboard, his nails dug into the wood, making grooves in it. He tried to breathe in, but he couldn’t, something was blocking the air from actually reaching his lungs. He coughed, scratched at the mask, only to scream when he could feel it, the sounds horribly disjointed and piercing. He fell to his knees, hands scrabbling at the sides of the mask, only to grasp at nothing. More pain shot through his head, then through his whole body. He managed to look into the mirror at some point, only to rear back in panic. He did not wear a mask, not anymore. Chains and manacles were wrapped around his wrists, wrists that were way too thin and gaunt, and most of all blue. He screamed in fright, the strange and yet horrifyingly similar visage in the mirror contorting itself. He scooted backwards, then watched in horror how his legs began to disappear. He could still feel them, and he was thankful for it, but they were wholly invisible, trousers, shoes and all included. When he tried to grasp at them, his hands managed to go through them, and another unearthly wail freed itself from his throat. This was not how he wanted his Halloween to go, not at all. MJ looked around, then tried to get up, out of the house. He needed to find Luka; he knew how to deal with sudden shapeshifting! Luka should know how to help him, right?

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Frantic knocking on the door followed by frantic yelling was not something Luka had expected this early on the Halloween evening, and for a moment he was entertained to coil up until whoever yelled went away. At least he was, until he heard the actual contents of the yelling, and identified the voice as MJ’s.

“LUKA THATCHER PRINCETON; OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!” Almost on instinct, ingrained from his mother yelling the exact same words, Luka’s mane bristled in shock, and he hurried to the door.

“Coming, MJ!” the moment the door opened, Luka was bowled over by a blue and red blur, and the door was shut noisily.

“Luka, you need to help me! That mask, it.. it.. it did something to me!” MJ sounded close to crying, and it took Luka a moment to answer while he took in the sight of his colleague.

“Holy… MJ? That you?” Luka took in the sight of the quivering mess of a person in front of him. It reminded him vaguely of his friend and co-worker, but at the same time it was very much different, and more in line with, as disturbing as it sounded, a person that had frozen to death at some point.

“Of course that’s me! It’s that damn masks fault! I found it on the attic and tried on that costume I thought of for tonight, and then, I don’t know how, this happened!” MJ threw his arms out, the chains on them rattling noisily. Luka’s eyes widened at that, his fur bristling in shock.

“The Mask? MJ, you have no legs! How on earth… Wait, how did you even get here without anyone seeing you? And are you alright? Except the, you know, obvious?” MJ’s breath hitched at that, and he shivered.

“I have no idea… I can still feel my legs, for your information, but they’re… invisible and intangible, it seems…” He awkwardly rubbed his arms. “As for not being seen… I… kind of have a talent for that? You don’t want to be seen when carrying bones for crafting.” A facepalm from Luka followed that statement.

“Well, I guess that skill did come in handy…” He sighed, then grasped MJ’s shoulder before leading him into the living room. “Sit down for a moment, I’m getting you something to drink. I know how you’re feeling right now. I’m gonna send Hattie to get Clover, I think she should know about this.”

“Good idea…” MJ shook his head slightly. “This… is messed up. I shouldn’t t have picked up that damn mask…”

“Hindsight is 20/20. I shouldn’t have drunk whatever Vanessa ordered, but we can’t change it now. Only work from here, MJ. HATTIE! Come here for a moment.” Not a moment later, the sound of small feet hitting the ground became audible, and Hattie skid to a halt in front of them both.

“MJ?” She tilted her head at the sight of him. He gave a small wave in return. Hattie blinked for a while before looking at her father. “Dad, do I need to get Clover?”

“Please do that, Kiddo. I think we need all hands on deck here.”

“Alright, I’m back in five.” She called, before running out of the door. For a moment, silence fell, then Luka curled up somewhat next to MJ.

“So… want to talk about it?”

“’s not like I have a big choice here, it’s that or silence…” MJ groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Does… does it always hurt like that when you change?” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was afraid to ask.

“Only the first time. Never after that. Something I’m rather glad about. Once is enough.” Luka answered truthfully.

“That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to… well, feel pain all the time when you change.” MJ awkwardly rubbed his horn, then asked another question. “Do you think this can be reversed?”

“We can certainly try. Masks are made to be put on and taken off after all, there should be a way to do it.” Luka put one hand on MJ’s shoulder. “Try not to dwell on it for long, we will get this, you hear?” A small smile graced MJ’s face at that, and he nodded. “Good.”

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“So… That happened.” Clover said after a moment of silence after MJ told them what had happened after he put the mask on. “MJ, please do us a favor and burn the Cursed Mask the moment we get that thing off you.” Her tone left no room for arguments, and that she looked very much like a person halfway turned into stone thanks to the magic of make-up helped with that.

“Believe me, that’s first on the list of things I’ll do after this is over.” MJ replied dryly, picking at the manacles around his wrists.

“Does this mean we can’t go out today?” Hattie piped up quietly, wringing the cape of her costume in her hands.

“Oh Kiddo…” Luka started, then looked at the other two adults. “I…”

“As long as someone here can lend me a set of pants or something I can use to conceal the fact that my legs are pretty much invisible and intangible, I can deal. I got the breakdown out of my system earlier.” MJ added, smiling at Hattie. “After all, we promised it to you and Bonnie, didn’t we? Who knows, maybe she has an idea how to get that mask off.” That made Hattie cheer, and she quickly ran into her room, coming back with some yellow cloth that was roughly the same colour as the undershirt MJ still wore.

“We can make that longer, then it looks as if you wear a robe!”

“Not a bad idea, Hattie. We could do that pretty quickly, I think.” Luka hummed.

“Let me do that. No offense Hattie, but you don’t sew as cleanly as I can, and you currently have four fingers in total, Luka.” Clover said, before grabbing MJ and the cloth. “Get me needle and thread, and this is over in ten minutes tops,” she declared.

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The evening was spent in a thankfully rather relaxed manner. Luka ended up making himself look only vaguely humanoid, the robe-solution for MJ’s leg problem worked, and pretty much everyone liked their “costumes”. Bonnie was a bit shocked when she was told what happened to MJ, but offered the possibility that the mask could be taken off after the night was over. After a moment of thinking, it was accepted as a possible solution, after which the demand for candy became loud enough that the group began moving. They ended up encountering the “Snult” along the way, all of them dressed up in the same costume, their heights being the only way to discern who was who.

“So, what are you supposed to be?” MJ asked after a moment of looking the costumes over. Lime and Maya had done pretty good work with the costumes, in his opinion.

“We’re the Subconites! The Loyal Minions of the Snatcher!” came the almost cacophonous reply of over 20 teenagers at once, and Luka looked a bit bewildered, touched, and embarrassed all at once. “That’s a cool costume by the way, Mr. MJ.” Cherry said after a moment, giving the man a thumbs up.

“Oh, thank you.” MJ laughed a bit awkwardly.

“You look like a cryptid. You need a cryptid name now.” One of the subconites said. “MOONJUMPER!” another yelled promptly.

“Moonjumper? Why Moonjumper?”

“Well, because MJ.” Came the prompt reply, said in a tone that suggested a lack of belief in MJ’s intelligence.

“I… guess I can’t say anything against that.”

---------------------------------------___________________________________--------------------------------------

The night ended with little fanfare, but a lot of candy. People thought the group costume with the two kids was adorable, and the candy given as pseudo-payment was plenty for it. Bonnie was allowed to sleep over at Hattie’s and Luka’s house that night, and after not even a moment of hesitation MJ and Clover followed suit and slept over as well. Once they all piled up in a rather comfortable cuddle pile, it did not take long for them all to fall asleep. Luka was an excellent and rather warm and comfy snake-ghost-thing, a fact he was not unaware of. It was at about 6 in the morning when MJ woke up again though, his entire body itching and shuddering. He blinked a few times after opening his eyes, noticing that his sight really did not get better, and automatically groped for his glasses, only to notice that he didn’t have them with him. Then the events from yesterday caught up, and his hands flew to his face. He could’ve cried in relief when his hands found the edge of the mask, and he almost tore it from his face.

“You gave me a lot of trouble.” He hissed at it, the almost leering grin and decorated eyes on the wood staring back without an answer. “Can’t wait to throw you into the fire.” He huffed, chucking it into a corner before curling up again. It was too damn early for this, and it was not as if the mask could run away. By closing his eyes, he missed the mask’s eyes gleaming once more, the grin seemingly growing wider, before freezing once more, becoming nothing more than old wood and bone. Hours later, it was thrown into a bonfire, and the ashes scattered into the winds. Nothing remained, no wood, no leather, no teeth made of bone. Only ashes on the wind, never to be seen again. The Mask was gone for good.

#ahit #ahit 'coffee shop au'#The snatcher #moonjumper #hat kid #bow kid #subconites #subconite cherry #subconite lime #subconite maya #the florist #Some body horror courtesy of MJ #MJ gets majora masked and is very unhappy #is the mask sentient? No one knows #and now no one ever will.

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anistarrose · 4 years ago

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Chapter Summary: Barry gets a job offer. Kravitz sees a new side of the moon. Taako has a long-overdue chat with his umbrella.

Characters: Kravitz, Taako, Barry Bluejeans, Angus McDonald, Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, Noelle | No-3113, The Raven Queen, The Director | Lucretia, misc. BoB cameos, Julia Burnsides, Garyl

Relationships: Taakitz, Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans & Kravitz, Kravitz & Angus McDonald

Lately, I’ve been thinking of this fic as a story told in two acts. They’re not necessarily going to be equal in length, but this chapter is definitely the end of Act One.

***

“That’s basically the whole story, Your Majesty,” Kravitz concluded, after several minutes of talking at speeds that no being who needed to breathe could hope to match. Barry and Noelle stood on either side of him, mustering the most innocent expressions he’d ever seen on the faces of a lich or a robot, respectively. “Not that I’d blame you for having follow-up questions, because… well, holy shit.”

Holy shit, indeed, the Raven Queen agreed. A projected image of her visage was floating above a circle of five perfect raven feathers, having been carefully arranged on the cave floor by Kravitz. Istus said we were approaching unprecedented times, but…

She sighed. Well, I must admit that with the apparent exception of Istus, we gods hardly think about what lies outside our planar system. It’s… inconvenient, uncomfortable, how we hold so much power in this world yet understand so little about what’s beyond it. This threat, this Hunger, is news even to me — but didn’t you already know that, Barry, from all the Celestial Planes you’ve seen invaded before?

Barry nodded. “Yeah. I never saw stuff like that directly, of course, but Merle’s a cleric, so… he had his ways of knowing it was never a pretty picture.”

The Raven Queen let out a sigh, like wind escaping from beneath a whole flock’s wings. Then I have more important things to do than reconcile your undeath with the laws of this world, and you have more important things to do than defend yourself to me. Barry, Noelle, you are free to go at least until the apocalypse is averted — but if we get through that, and only then, I’d like you to start thinking about accepting jobs in the Astral Plane. Whatever state the world is in after the Hunger arrives, Kravitz and I will probably need your help.

Barry went dead silent, while Noelle’s whole display lit up with excitement.

“Are we talking afterlife office jobs,” she asked, “or something more along the lines of what Kravitz does?”

“We’ve got plenty of open positions, honestly,” Kravitz explained. “You could probably pick either.”

“Huh,” Barry finally muttered, so soft that Kravitz could’ve missed it. “I — I appreciate the offer, but — I gotta know one thing before I even consider it. Will I have to — to bring in any of my family? Anyone from the Starblaster?”

I’d like to speak with them all eventually, and I may ask you to facilitate that, the Raven Queen replied, but they won’t be punished.

Barry nodded. “Okay. That’s… that’s something I’m willing to consider, then.”

I hope you find out what happened to Lup. Her location is concealed from even me, but I know she’s never entered my domain, so I believe you’ll find her out there somewhere.

Barry’s eyes flickered, shedding drops of light that ran down his face for a few seconds before they coalesced back together. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

It’s the least I could do. From here, my priority shall be to warn the rest of the pantheon, but we’ll be in touch. The Raven Queen’s visage disappeared with a clap of thunder and a gust of wind that lifted the feathers into the air, carrying them back to Kravitz’s waiting hands as her voice boomed throughout the cave one last time. Good luck, my children.

“That went well, right?” Noelle asked when the echoes faded. “That felt pretty good for a conversation with the death goddess.”

“She’s a lot more reasonable than most gods, I think you’ll find,” Kravitz concurred. “But what’s the plan now? Because other than heading up to the moon, and bringing the boys back down for you to tell them what little you can, I haven’t got a lot of ideas.”

“I dunno either. I don’t like keeping them in the dark either, but it’s very little we can tell them aside from —” Barry paused. “Wait. You can go on the moonbase?”

“Yes? At least, no one’s tried to stop me. I guess I can see why you wouldn’t be allowed up there, but —”

“It’s more than a ban and a wanted poster keeping me off! It’s an anti-undeath ward —” Electricity crackled inside Barry’s silhouette, and he let out a laugh that could’ve woken the not-yet-reanimated dead. “But you, Kravitz, apparently possess enough celestial energy to balance out the undead elements of your soul — which is perfect! It changes everything!”

“Uh,” Kravitz began, reflexively taking a step back, “I think I’m missing some context here —”

“That ward’s the only thing stopping Barry from sneaking onto the moonbase and stealing the ichor he needs to inoculate his family!” Noelle explained, totally unperturbed by Barry’s mad scientist laugh. “I couldn’t steal it for him because the same ward keeps me from leaving my fuse for very long, and this robot body’s not exactly stealthy — but you can decorporealize for as long as you want on the moon, right?”

“I’m not sure I’ve actually tried,” Kravitz replied, rubbing his chin as the puzzle pieces fell into place, “but I’ve never had issues getting through anti-undead wards before, corporeally or otherwise!”

Barry rubbed his hands together, smoke and sparks pouring out from between them — but for the first time, Kravitz was sure he saw a glint of a smile flash on Barry’s face.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Barry asked. “Let’s head back to my place and plan a heist!”

***

“So what do we do now, Fantasy Columbo?” Taako asked, staring at the Umbra Staff in his hands. “I didn’t hear any jingles start playing for solving some sick higher power’s umbrella lich puzzle — how does this help us? What does it change?”

This should have been a revelation, Taako knew. This should have changed everything. But his mind was lagging behind his racing heart, struggling to fit together puzzle pieces that he knew should connect. Struggling to understand why he cared so fiercely about an evil ghost of an evil wizard being trapped in the arcane focus he’d looted her corpse for.

“I… I guess we should try to communicate with her?” Angus suggested. “She’s a Red Robe, so she must have something to do with —” He gestured wildly from his notepad, to Taako’s head, to the incinerated coffee table. “With all of this. Right?”

He removed his glasses, wiping off drops of sweat, and Taako realized that Angus, the smartest person he knew, had ran into an uncomfortable mental wall of his own — and after just a split second of looking at Angus’s pained expression, Taako made a decision.

“Hey, kid. I need your arguably expert opinion real quick — Magnus and Merle aren’t smart enough to be memory-wiping masterminds, right?”

“Oh, absolutely not, sir. We both know they’re no good at keeping their lies straight.”

“Could you check in on them for me? And try to bring ‘em back here — but, uh, only if you can do it without Lucretia or Davenport spotting you, and I need you to really focus on looking out for them. I don’t know who else I can trust with this —”

With a huge, determined smile on his face, Angus saluted. “I won’t let you down, sir!” He looked far less pained as he slunk out of the room, and Taako breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay. Kid’s gonna be alright with his mind off of this, and now we can have some peace and quiet, Lup.” His mouth lingered on the name Lup but his mind didn’t, giving no thought to the affection he instinctively voiced. “So… let’s chat?”

***

Lucretia’s office looked just as Barry had described, and not all that different from the Reclaimer’s dorms in terms of architecture. The sole occupant was not the Director herself, but a mustached gnome man who sat at the oversized desk, focusing intently on a game of solitaire. He didn’t even look up as Kravitz’ soul drifted past, steering clear of the desk and floating right through a heavy, closed door.

Kravitz kept inside the left wall of the corridor — Barry may not have reported any traps in this stretch, but the puzzle that Barry had reported was nowhere to be seen, and Kravitz knew a suspiciously empty-looking hallway when he saw one. He phased through a second door at the end of the chamber, ignoring the computer that looked even more foreign to him than his Stone of Farspeech, and recorporealized inside a second office.

This close to the source of the ward, a spinning disk imbued with radiant energy, Kravitz could finally feel its influence — a faint burn and refreshing cold that coexisted, an antipathy towards his undead body and a resonance with the Raven Queen’s blessing. Tempted as he was to knock down the disk and short-circuit the ward, it wasn’t poised do much besides mildly distract him, and he was making this visit with a much different goal — one that he’d expose, if he ended up dramatically trashing someone else’s holy symbol.

At the far end of the office sat a murky tank, and above that tank, an alarm was ringing. A few feet to the alarm’s left, a needle punched holes in a steadily scrolling paper, recording what Kravitz inferred to be times and intensities — and there was a lot of information to infer from, because the paper output had not just reached the floor, but piled up to almost waist height.

A massive volume of alarms had clearly been accumulating, and someone — presumably Lucretia — was far too busy to check on every message. Ever since he’d died, Kravitz had been notoriously bad at keeping track of dates, but a quick comparison with the dates at the bottom of the pile and the dates of the current output revealed that the alarms had started trickling in last night, before a massive influx took shape only about an hour ago.

This was all very interesting to the part of Kravitz that loved a good mystery, but his pragmatic side won out, knowing this alarm could attract unwelcome attention at any moment. He switched his attention to the contents of the tank — which appeared just like Barry had said it would, but was still plenty fascinating. A jellyfish floated in murky ichor, illuminated from within by a dark purple nebula pattern, and recoiling away from Kravitz as he rested a hand atop the tank.

“Now, now. It’s alright,” Kravitz murmured, in the same tone he might use to calm a distressed soul. “No need to be scared…”

The baby Voidfish hummed two chords, far lower and louder than Kravitz had expected from such a tiny creature — but music, at least, was something Kravitz knew he could work with. He summoned his scythe in the form of a lute, plucking out a peaceful melody he’d been fond of for hundreds of years… and only a few bars in, the Voidfish began to echo him, humming along with increasing volume.

“I’m just here to do my friends a favor,” Kravitz promised. “It won’t take long at all.”

The Voidfish seemed to relax, so Kravitz let go of his lute, allowing it to float at his side with a faint blue aura suspending it in air. He pulled a canteen from beneath his cloak, slowly submerging it in the tank until it was full to the brim with ichor — probably a slight excess, but he’d rather have too much than not enough.

“See? All done,” he whispered, reattaching the canteen’s cap. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

The Voidfish hummed the refrain of his song once more as he reformed his scythe, and as if to say farewell, waved a tentacle in his direction as he stepped through the portal off the moonbase.

Just a moment later, the very second Kravitz’s feet hit solid subterranean ground, Barry was at his side with a barrage of questions. “How did it go? Have you got the ichor? Did anyone see you?”

“Good, yes, and no in that order,” Kravitz replied, handing Barry the canteen. “The only thing I’m worried about is… well, you’ve seen how Lucretia has an alarm system in her office, right? It’s going a little haywire right now — and has been since last night.”

Barry’s relief morphed into frustration mid-relieved sigh. “I was hoping we could avoid that, since the boys haven’t had a run-in with me in a couple days — but I guess someone’s still trying to remember something, and it won’t be long ‘til Lucretia picks up on it. We gotta get a move on.”

“I did talk to Taako about the stars disappearing last night, come to think of it,” Kravitz recalled. “I hope he’s not still hung up on that, but it sounds like he might be.”

“Shoot, that coulda done it. No fault of your own, obviously.” Barry sighed again, picking up a couple of scrolls from his desk and placing them on a much more neatly organized bookshelf. “Sorry for the mess, by the way. You and Noelle have been my only visitors so far this whole decade.”

Kravitz had seen Barry’s home before he left for his heist on the moon, and it had already been pretty respectable as secret lairs went. Aside from the stalactites and the dubiously legal cloning pod, it had looked more like a disheveled academic’s study than a necromancer’s dungeon — but in Kravitz’s absence, Barry had apparently gotten up to some spring cleaning. He’d draped a sheet over the pod, which was still glowing bright green and far from innocuous, and somehow gotten his hands on a decent-quality couch, either from a pocket dimension or a conjuration spell or gods knew what else.

“Before you got involved, my plan never involved the boys coming in here while they could remember me,” Barry admitted. “They’d still be far from seeing me at my worst, but — well, I dunno if I can make this place look welcoming, exactly, but I’d rather not make them worry about me ‘cause of it.”

“If it helps, this is easily the nicest cave I’ve ever seen a lich holed up in,” Kravitz said, which got a quiet laugh out of Barry.

“Yeah, I bet it is.” He opened the canteen, pouring a modest sample of the ichor into a glass vial. “Hard to believe this is happening so suddenly, but… I think now’s the time. Lucretia could catch on at any minute, and I — I’ll be ready by the time you get back, I think.”

“Good luck remodeling,” Kravitz told him with a nod, and tore open a portal back to the moon.

***

“So… let’s chat?” Taako suggested. He didn’t know what kind of reply he was expecting, but he had to admit it stung when the Umbra Staff didn’t move an inch.

“Okay, what you do isn’t exactly chatting. That one’s on me. Can you just give me a sign, a little poltergeisting or something, if you’re listening?”

Still nothing, which continued to hurt more than it should have.

“Are you mad at me? I thought you smacked me in the face today to get my attention! ‘Cause you wanted to talk, but…” He glanced away from the umbrella in his lap. “I guess you really hate Kravitz, don’t you? And I was helping him hunt you, even before we started dating…”

He sighed. “And you’re only here because I stole from your grave! What was I even thinking? Of course you hate me, and maybe I half-deserve it —”

The Umbra Staff twitched in his hands, subtly yet so abruptly that he jumped to his feet with a yelp and dropped it onto the floor. It spun over ninety degrees as it fell, landing to point at the shelf of seldom-used spell components that Taako and Merle shared.

“You… want me to cast something?” Taako knelt on the rug, gently wrapping a hand around the handle but not raising the umbrella from the floor. He didn’t feel even the slightest movement. “Hey, if you’re not mad at me, then… do something. Do anything.”

He thought the handle might’ve trembled slightly, but wasn’t sure — it could’ve just been wishful thinking. “Okay, flip side. Do something if you are mad at me.”

This time, he was certain there was no response. “Okay, I’ve narrowed it down to either ‘you’re not mad’ or ‘you don’t want to talk to me,’ but I don’t get why you’re being so subtle about this. I mean, I’m not asking you to cast Sunbeam on my boyfriend again, but I know you could be giving me more obvious signs than —”

He happened to glace back at the component shelf, noticing the chest of spare wands he’d stockpiled — arcane foci, just like the ones the Umbra Staff consumed — then just like that, it clicked, and there was finally one quirk of his rogue umbrella that Taako had an inkling of an explanation for.

“Unless… you can’t give me a bigger sign because I haven’t beaten a magic user in a while!” he gasped. “You’re not trying to ignore me — you’re running out of power!”

He unlatched the little chest, grabbing two cheap wooden wands and snapping them both — and sure enough, the Umbra Staff inverted with more vigor than Taako had seen from it all day, swallowing them whole.

“Better?” Taako asked, and a tiny pink flame sparked to life at the tip of the umbrella. Lup must’ve summoned it with a variant of Prestidigitation, because it smelled less like smoke and more like comforting home cooking.

“Now I know why you chose me instead of Merle at the cave! You’re an adoring fan of Sizzle it Up!” Taako teased, and the Umbra Staff bonked him on the head. “Okay, fine, maybe not. Gods know that’s not the only thing I’ve got going for me over Merle.”

He glanced around the room, rubbing his chin. “I was going to say you could turn that flame on and off real fast, send me a message in Fantasy Morse Code, but then I remembered I don’t actually know Fantasy Morse that well. Maybe you could, like, burn something into the wall —”

The flame atop the Umbra Staff intensified, excited.

“But I guess we’d run out of space real fast — never mind explaining it to Lucretia, yikes! We’d be toast… just like the walls.”

The flame died down, replaced with a disembodied, glowing red Mage Hand. With an upturned palm, it made a motion that Taako guessed was meant to convey a shrug and a then what?

“Oh, you didn’t tell me you could do Mage Hand from in there too! I can work with that!”

He made a beeline for the dorm kitchen, ripping open a fresh bag of flour and dumping it directly onto the counter. “I really don’t wanna leave written evidence, so you write stuff in this, and I’ll erase it when you’re done. Sound good?”

Lup squeezed his shoulder, then traced four words in the flour.

I’ve never hated you

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Taako muttered, pretending he couldn’t feel his whole chest seizing up. With a bare hand, he wiped the flour flat, and only sent a little flying onto the floor accidentally. “I… I wanna let you out. Because this is a really inconvenient way to talk, but — but also ‘cause I know you didn’t mean to get trapped in there, and living inside your arcane focus sounds like it’s the pits. Is there a way I can free you?”

yes but not right now

“Why not?”

no liches on the moon

“Oh, have they got wards to block you off or something? I guess we wouldn’t be able to talk at all if I freed you, and that… that wouldn’t be great.”

I’d miss you :(

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Taako replied, and he said it before he meant it. The figure of speech slipped out right away, ingrained after years of overwhelmingly insincere conversations, but his emotions caught up to him more slowly — starting with the loneliness and the longing, before they ate away at him and left an emptiness behind, a dread of never being whole again and a temptation to tear the whole world apart, because what would he have left to lose?

It ended with a throbbing skull, with static clouding the peripheries of his vision, with a mind that couldn’t fathom why missing someone would hit so close to a home that should have never existed. The last year notwithstanding, he couldn’t remember a time where he’d be caught dead missing someone’s company… but now all he could think, all he could feel, was I’m not losing you again.

“There’s gotta be a workaround — right, Lup?” he managed. “Like, is there a way I could take the wards down?”

maybe, but

Lucretia would notice

“I’m gonna go out on a limb, and assume… she wouldn’t be too thrilled to know you’re here.”

Lup took longer to reply than usual, erasing the first few letters of her response to start over several times.

it’s so complicated

don’t think I can explain

“Right. Of course. ‘Cause of the Voidfish.” Taako rubbed his cheek, expecting to wipe away stray splotches of flour — but instead, he felt his fingers grow damp with tears that he knew weren’t just from the pain of his headache.

“I — I don’t know what to do, Lup. I want to help you, but Kravitz is probably in danger because of me so I have to make sure he’s okay, and I know he won’t like me helping you — then there’s Angus and Magnus and Merle, too, I have no clue if any of them are in as much trouble as us. And I just… I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this. That the worst of all the bombshells still hasn’t dropped, and I’m about to lose all you while I still don’t know who I am, or who I can trust besides —”

The fingers of Lup’s Mage Hand interlocked with his, and it was a strange sensation — fuzzy and only about half-tangible, as simple magic constructs were expected to be, but warm like a living hand despite the lack of flesh and blood. Taako couldn’t say how long he was silent, just focusing on just that warmth and the inexplicable nostalgia that accompanied it, before he finally asked: “What do you think I should do?”

Lup withdrew her hand slowly, but didn’t hesitate nor erase as she traced four new words:

find Barry

trust Barry

“…I’m glad I’ve got you, Lup, ‘cause I never woulda come up with that on my own,” Taako muttered, chuckling in spite of himself. He didn’t doubt for a second that Lup’s advice was worth following, but he had to admit it was ridiculous how every time a problem came up in his life, someone insisted it could be solved by tracking down a denim-clad lich. “Do you know any of his favorite hangouts, or —”

As Lup’s Mage Hand zipped back into the Umbra Staff, Taako didn’t quite notice the scythe rending space behind him, but he whirled around at the sound of feet hitting the ground and an incredulous voice speaking up.

“Uh, Taako?”

Kravitz carried himself with considerably less poise than usual, wearing a tattered suit that had presumably once seen better days, but he appeared otherwise unscathed, and Taako’s heart jumped for joy.

“I — I — I’m sorry?” Kravitz’s words sounded less like an apology, and more like a sincere question of whether or not he should be sorry for intruding. “I should’ve just portalled to the hallway and knocked. I didn’t mean to walk in on — on whatever this is —”

Before he could stammer another adorably confused word, Taako rushed in for a hug — never mind how crazy he knew he looked, covered in flour and inexplicably teary-eyed over an umbrella.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe — I was so worried about you. I thought for sure you were in trouble and it was all my fault — it was all because —”

Kravitz slipped a cool, but unusually not cold hand under Taako’s hat, mussing up his hair to match the rest of his appearance. “I won’t lie, Taako — there were moments today where I was worried for me. But it turned out to all be a misunderstanding, which is always a pleasant surprise in my line of work — and even better, if you can believe it, one of my new friends knows what’s up with those deaths you can’t remember!”

Kravitz was beaming, but Taako’s blood ran cold like he was the dead man walking. Just when he’d been so sure, so relieved, that he hadn’t dragged Kravitz into the Voidfish conspiracy after all, it turned out that Kravitz had sleuthed his way right to its very center.

No wonder he gets along so well with Angus, Taako thought wryly. Two constantly endangered nerds of a feather.

“This friend can explain it much better than I can, so we’ll visit him by portal — but Magnus and Merle need to hear the truth, too,” Kravitz went on, still seeing no reason not to be enthusiastic. “Are they available?”

“Oh, those clowns? They’re off playing kickball with Angus or something — should be back soon.” Taako knew how Kravitz thought, and knew that Kravitz believed he was doing the right thing by digging up these secrets. He was fulfilling an oath to his goddess and helping Taako get some closure, which should have been great news as far as Kravitz knew — but now he was on the moon, speaking openly about truths a Voidfish had suppressed…

And Taako was conspiring with a lich, soon to be two liches, behind Kravitz’s back. He wasn’t expecting to like the truth behind his eight deaths, if he could even wrap his mind around it — and he had a feeling that when it came time to be judged by the Raven Queen, Kravitz would like the truth and its consequences even less, regardless of whether Taako could think clearly enough to defend himself.

So he withdrew from the hug, wiping the flour — and the incriminating mention of Barry — off the counter with a swoop of his hand. “Oh, drat! Did not mean to do that, ‘cause now I’ll have to mop the whole floor —”

“Okay, Taako. What’s wrong?” Kravitz asked firmly — and Taako didn’t know why he’d thought he’d be able to stall for time, given how Kravitz knew him pretty well, too. “You’re not in trouble with the Queen — I mean, we’ll probably have to invent and then fill out an entirely new form of paperwork about you and your pals, but I told her everything and she’s not mad, I can say that much. Same goes for Magnus, Merle, and — uh, forgive me, just Magnus and Merle. It’s been a long day.”

“Okay, that’s the second piece of good bird news you’ve dropped on me in like twenty-four hours, and I appreciate that,” Taako sighed. “But — okay, listen. We’ve got to be quiet about this, for both of our safety, but I think — I know I’m dealing with more than just memory loss here. I’ll try jumping through your portal and talking to your friend, but I really don’t think I’ll be able to understand —”

“Oh!” Kravitz gasped. “I think I know what you’re talking about — I ran into it with Angus earlier, and we should definitely have a way around it.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “My, uh, my new friend didn’t know if you could understand that there was a second Voidfish — but you heard that, right? It wasn’t garbled?”

Taako nodded frantically. “Yeah, and we’ve gotta get off the moon. If Lucretia finds out we know, I — I’ve got no idea how far she’ll go to keep this under wraps, and that’s the worst part. She’s already suspicious of me, and I —”

He felt a tug from his umbrella, and he cast Message as quickly and subtly as he could, hoping the Umbra Staff’s propensity to absorb magic like a sinkhole would somehow pull his unspoken words to Lup.

I’m not going to tell him about you. Not until I get more information.

Her reply must’ve hardly escaped from the umbrella, being little more than a distorted whisper — Be careful. Love you — but Taako’s legs almost gave out beneath him when he heard her voice, and Kravitz winced.

“We’ve really got to get you out of here, don’t we?” he murmured, taking Taako’s hand — and Kravitz’s skin was definitely warmer than usual, because of course this frankly adorable development would happen when Taako had a million other things on his mind. “You said the other boys will be back soon?”

“I hope.” Taako led the way into the living room, giving a wide berth to the remains of the coffee table. “I sent Angus to go find —”

On cue, the rattle of a doorknob and the sound of Angus’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Sir? We’re back! Could you unlock the door?”

The next sound was the telltale thump of a small child being affectionately shoved aside, followed by Magnus exclaiming: “Hey, I’ve got thieves’ tools now! Gimme a shot at picking it!”

Kravitz pursed his lips. “Don’t Magnus and Merle have their own keys?” he muttered under his breath.

“Of course they do,” Taako sighed, and the door swung open with a snap of his fingers and a Knock spell.

“Magnus, look!” Merle cheered. “You did it!”

While Magnus and Merle high-fived, Angus’s eyes lit up at the sight of Kravitz half-alive and well.

“You’re okay! I’m sorry I didn’t end up finding Noelle, but Taako said he was worried about you, so I started worrying too — did you have a nasty fight with a necromancer or something?”

“…Yes and no,” Kravitz responded after a moment of hesitation, “but I can explain that whole incident later. Right now, I need you all to come with me to —”

“A cool skeleton rave!” Taako butted in. “And… there’s also supposed to be skeleton dogs there! So you guys will definitely wanna get in on it!”

“Yes, exactly!” Kravitz corroborated without missing a beat. “It’s one of those, you know, very rare skeleton raves that receives the Raven Queen’s approval. Once in a century opportunity, so you won’t want to miss it!”

Magnus rubbed his chin. “I dunno about this. How do you pet a skeleton dog?”

“Only one way to find out!” Taako told him, then breathed a sigh of relief when it got an approving nod from Magnus.

“Fair enough! I’m sold!”

Angus narrowed his eyes, so Taako grinned and winked, hoping it came across as equal parts conspiratorial and don’t you dare blow this for me. It must’ve worked, because after a few seconds of surely intense mental calculations, Angus plastered on a convincing innocent smile and gave Taako a thumbs-up.

“Thanks for inviting me on this fun diversion, sir! I’m sure you could’ve come up with a more convincing lie if it was a trap or a prank, so I’m all in!”

Smiling awkwardly, Kravitz turned to the the lie’s final mark. “Merle, my bud, how about you?”

“Are we buds now?” Merle grinned. “You know what, sure! Anything for my bud!”

“Then away we go!” Kravitz tore open a rift and immediately stepped through, beckoning for the others to follow with the single arm that remained on their side of the portal. Magnus leapt through almost immediately, Merle hot on his heels, while Angus approached the rift more skeptically.

“Well, sir,” he announced softly once Magnus and Merle disappeared, “you and Kravitz owe me an explanation… but I trust the both of you.” He took Taako’s hand, and the two of them stepped through the portal together, emerging in a cold, dimly lit cave.

And Taako thought he’d been “moving fast” through a lot of things, lately — through worldview-shattering realizations, into a romantic relationship, into unofficially and semi-accidentally adopting a boy detective — but nothing could’ve prepared him for how fast everything moved in the next minute.

Kravitz faced Noelle and a now-familiar disembodied robe, very obviously struggling to suppress a mood-inappropriate laugh. “Can you believe I was planning to lie to Magnus about skeleton dogs, but then Taako interrupted and independently came up with the same fib?”

“That’s love, baby!” Taako exclaimed, in the moment before the absurdity of the situation dawned on him. “Wait. Why’s Barold here?”

As the rift fizzled and disappeared, Magnus drew Railsplitter, only to whirl around on himself with no idea who to aim at or threaten. “Hey, did we just get kidnapped? ‘Cause I’ve gotta say, this is the last combination of people in the world I expected to team up and kidnap us.”

“It’s not a kidnapping,” Kravitz began, “it’s just —”

“Did you kidnap a child, Kravitz?” Barry interrupted, gesturing at Angus. “When was that ever a part of the plan?! We didn’t need to involve —”

“With all due respect, Mister Bluejeans,” Angus butted in, “Kravitz didn’t technically kidnap me! I knew perfectly well that he was bullshitting, but I decided to come along with him anyway, out of my own free will!” He turned to face Kravitz, adjusting his glasses. “That said, he did deceive and therefore truly kidnap Magnus, Merle, and maybe even Taako by the sound of things — so if he could go ahead and explain his presumably very good reason for doing so, that would be just dandy!”

Barry sighed. “Real smartass kid you’ve dragged into the fate of the universe, huh, boys?”

“He was already involved enough in things that he deserves to know. We’re bringing him up to speed too,” Kravitz declared, and Barry shrugged.

“Alright, sure — but why the hell was there a child on the moon in the first place?!”

“He’s the world’s greatest detective,” Noelle spoke up, and Angus beamed. “I told you about him, remember? He’s the one who figured out that you were amnesiac when you were alive —”

“Oh, I do remember that, though I don’t remember you mentioning his age — so I guess it’s my bad, then, for assuming a secret lunar society would give a flying fuck about child labor laws!”

Kravitz ignored them both. “Merle, Magnus — I’m so sorry for the deception, and Taako, I’m sorry for not saying that Barry was my new contact. I didn’t want anyone eavesdropping on us on the moonbase, and I swear, I will explain myself as soon as I physically can —”

“Hey, hey, it’s cool!” Taako’s words were intended not just for Kravitz, but for Lup within the Umbra Staff, which had started trembling at the sound of Barry’s voice. “I would love an explanation, but I needed Barold’s help anyway, sooo… doesn’t this work out pretty great?”

“Needing Barry’s help is a new one, sir,” Angus commented, but no one in the room looked more incredulous than Kravitz and Barry themselves, who both froze in place.

“Um, that’s — that’s news to me too?” Barry stammered. “But if — if you don’t need any convincing, then…”

He floated a little taller, robe a little less ragged, voice a little more hopeful. “Let’s get you inoculated, bud.”

A glass vial appeared in Taako’s hand, and he sipped the dark liquid inside without a second thought, even though he gagged while passing the vial on to an apprehensive Magnus. No memories rushed back to him like he’d braced himself for, but he thought he felt the nature of his headache change — less like the roar of static, and more like the pressure on a dam about to burst.

“You should really sit down for this,” Barry told him, resting a cold hand on Taako’s shoulder. “Take it as slow as possible. You obviously figured out a lot, more than I thought you would, but you still won’t be ready for —”

“Relax, it hasn’t even hit me yet!” Taako interrupted. “So in the meantime, I can catch you up on this whole funny story about… my… umbrella…”

The metaphorical floodgates shattered, and the deluge of memories swept him off his feet.

Growing up bouncing between relative to relative, growing skilled as chefs and wizards on the road. The IPRE entrance exams, the best day ever, the Hanging Arcaneum, “back soon” —

His head burned as the static was expunged from his mind, displaced by visions of days and months and cycles that just kept hitting him. He was dimly aware of someone, two someones, clutching his arms and lowering him to his knees on the cool cave floor —

“Stay with us, Taako!” Kravitz pleaded, holding Taako’s left hand. “Listen to Barry —”

“I’ll walk you through everything,” Barry — the animal kingdom, learning to swim, “what if she’s just gone?” — promised from his right, clinging to the same arm with which Taako held the Umbra Staff. “Just don’t think ahead. I’ve been through this before, and I can get you through it now, as long as —”

“B-but — but Lup!” Taako cried. “How could I forget —”

“I know, bud,” Barry whispered. “I forgot too. I understand —”

“You fucking don’t understand!” Tears fell from his eyes, but his mouth twisted into a cautious, still half-disbelieving smile. “Barry, she’s right here!”

“What?!” The cave was plunged into red and black, blinding lights and impenetrable shadows, as the lich at its center seemed to fall apart and come together all at once. “WHERE?!”

Taako closed his eyes, and with a strength he didn’t know he had, snapped the Umbra Staff over his knee.

#taz #taz balance #taakitz #kravitz taz #taako taaco #barry bluejeans #lup taaco #angus mcdonald #taz balance spoilers #fic: ftrala #rosalia writes fic

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imjeralee · 4 years ago

Text

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 1 - 18.98Hz

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Note: This is my Leon fic!!!!! Originally posted on Archive of Our Own.

URL here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/25631500/chapters/62219596

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

Rating: General/Teen

Warnings: None! But dis fic be scary sometimes

18.98 Hertz

...

[18.98hz is the infrasonic signal reported to be responsible for ghost sightings]

...

Deep within the woodlands of the Wild Area, an abandoned manor sits undisturbed inside a secluded maze of overgrown fauna.

Rumoured to have been built during the eighteen hundreds, the architecture is undoubtedly Georgian, with a single door erected in the middle of the house and two rows of symmetrical, large windows. A proud Duke had built the impressive home for a beautiful princess he had fallen in love with. Unfortunately, a happy ending eluded the Duke as the princess was subsequently married off to another suitor and the Duke wasted away from a broken heart.

With no true owner, the house has been passed back and forth throughout several generations and archives reveal that the last recorded occupants dated back to the fifties - a young couple with small children - and they had stayed no longer than three months.

The family had been experiencing strange phenomena; they were plagued by eerie wailing noises, laughter and the sounds of footsteps in the empty hallways at night. The couple would often see apparitions in empty rooms. The youngest child developed an imaginary friend, described as a creature with the head of a boar.

One night, the couple were seen hurriedly fleeing the premises in the middle of the night in their nightclothes, dragging their children in tow and vowing never to return.

To this date, no occupant dwells within.

As the years passed, the manor fell further into ruin and disarray. With no human upkeep, it soon faded away from existence and hidden from the public. The stories soon dissolved into nothing but the stuff of legends.

No traveller would ever stumble upon this splendid home until a group of gym challengers travelling together on their Rotom bikes would spot the small glint of light a distance away.

It's night and the weather is dreary. They are strapping, young men and they look fearless, having braved through many hardships and difficult situations with each other and their Pokemon alike.

Tonight, they are hungry and exhausted from their long hours spent travelling and desperately seek shelter. Little do they know that a scene from a horror novel is in the making.

Heading towards the direction of the light in the distance, the three young men would eventually discover a beaten path that leads them to a foreboding manor. The boys are stunned at first and exchange glances of bafflement.

Every light of the building is on and shadows dance around in a window or two.

They cannot believe their good luck - what are their chances of stumbling across a house in the middle of the wilderness?

With the increasing torrential downpour and the weariness growing in their bones, the group pedal up to the door, lay down their bikes and knock on the rusted wood. They are hoping the occupants can grant them sanctuary for the remainder of the night. They had come across many kind individuals during their travels and have been offered gifts or generous hospitality. As they wait, they chat animatedly to each other about their adventures, laughing and smiling.

The door opens for them an inch or so as though beckoning them inside but no-one appears at the doorway.

Although they are confused, one of the gym challengers slowly pushes open the door and takes a cautious step.

"H-hello?" he calls as he glances around, "Anyone here?"

He is greeted by a long stretch of corridor with a single door at the far end. It's ajar and the light is on. Muffled voices can be heard emitting from within. His friends peer over his shoulders, intrigued.

"...Um, hello?" he calls again, a little louder than before, and he crosses the threshold.

His companions don't follow, seemingly having lost their nerve. Instead, they encourage their representative to enter the establishment further on their behalf. The sensation of unease and trepidation has suddenly made its presence known in the depth of their guts.

However, this young gym challenger is brave and for the sake of his friends, he enters. He steps through the corridor and arrives at the door, opening it with a shaking hand.

The door creaks loudly, dust falling off above and onto his head. He slides inside the room and sees it is an empty room, devoid of furniture and appears to be unused for many years. There is no indication of anyone living here and immediately, a shiver runs down his spine when he realises he is not alone.

The temperature in the room becomes frighteningly cold, the hairs of the back of his neck suddenly stand on end and his heartbeat speeds up.

In the corner of his eye, he senses someone or something.

He's too frightened to look but he forces himself to turn, his body stiff. An old man stands rigidly in one corner of the room furthest away from him, facing the wall. This strange figure is pallid and gaunt, donned in a haggard, grey robe that ends at the knees.

Unsure what to do, the boy ends up cautiously takes a step forward. It is human nature to be drawn to the unknown.

He takes a baby step forward. His feet feel heavy with each step. Slowly, he approaches.

"Um....mister?"

There is no response.

"Are you....are you okay?"

He reaches a shaking hand towards the figure and finally the old man turns, revealing a grotesque and demonic visage, a face with dark empty sockets and a horrid gaping mouth. An ear-splitting and unearthly shriek erupts from all four corners of the room and the boy stumbles backwards in fright and spins on his heel with a scream.

He runs, terrified for his life. The harrowing, agonising screams follow him out.

...

In the lush conservatory, your guest sits opposite you in the pristine white sofa with a cup of tea in shaking hand as he bravely recounts his horrific tale of the mysterious house deep in the woods of the Wild Area. He stops, unable to continue and unable to further describe the terror of that night which had effectively taken place three days ago.

Whilst Cutiefly buzzes around the plants, Polteageist sits on the table and helps refill your cup whilst you take notes. You thank your pokemon before briefly musing to yourself that Polteageist's tea is far superior than any other tea you've ever had and you wonder if there may as well be a coffee pokemon out there somewhere, waiting to be discovered.

"I-I know it doesn't sound like much but it was terrifying," he mutters, "And it wasn't a pokemon, either."

"It's too early to say, but I'll look into this for you."

"Y-you believe me?"

"Yes, I do."

The boy looks stunned at your response then morosely lowers his gaze to his lap; his eyes are sunken in, his face ashen and peaky. He has not slept well since the ordeal.

"Thank you for believing me. Nobody else did," he murmurs with a sigh of clandestine relief as he holds his clenched fist over his chest.

Your fingers tense under the gratitude, gripping the handle of your cup so tightly your knuckles turn white, but a fraction of a second later and you gradually relax and you smile. "No problem, leave it to me."

"Do you want me to take you there? I-I'm not sure if I can find it again though..."

"No need," you say, "I'll look for it myself."

After exchanging a few more words with your client, you leave the conservatory and escort him to the exit; he spots an old woman donned in a white lab coat sitting at the round table in the kitchen, helping herself to a slice of buttered toast. He recognises her as Galar's famed Pokemon Professor so he greets her politely and she responds in the same manner.

Before your client leaves, he thanks you again for listening and believing in his story when many others did not and you reassure him once more that you will get to the bottom of this; Polteageist and Cutiefly float beside you and wave as your guest departs.

Closing the door gently, you return to the conservatory to clean up and pick up your notes, then head to the kitchen where Professor Magnolia is now brewing herself a cup of tea with a paper in front of her. Upon your arrival, she looks up from her reading material. "Was that a new lead, dear?"

"Possibly. Don't leave any dinner for me, I'm heading out now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'll be back tomorrow morning, professor."

She nods, "Very well. Be safe, dear."

With Cutiefly and Polteageist beside you, you leave the kitchen and head up the stairs to your room.

Sonia is sitting at her vanity table with her back to you, carefully covering her nails with a new coat of seafoam-green nail polish that matches the shade of her eyes whilst her Yamper lies curled in its basket, snoozing away with a chew toy under its paw. When she sees you entering the room from the mirror, she spins round in her seat immediately to face you.

"How did it go?" She greets you cheerfully as you stride to your side of the room.

"It was okay, kinda typical. There was a derelict house, ghost lights and a frightening apparition of a very unfriendly old man."

She shivers all over. "That sounds horrid..."

"Sounds like my cup of tea. Isn't that right, Polteageist?" you reply with a grin. Whilst Sonia groans inwardly at your joke, Polteageist nods and spins happily around in his teapot in response.

"What are you going to do?" she asks, holding her hand up and blowing on her nails.

"I'm heading out now to check it out."

"Now??"

"Yep."

Sonia watches with widened eyes as you begin to prepare.

"Right! I'll need my bag, a few pokedolls, some Dusk Balls, my coat and radio. Poltea, let's get cracking."

Polteageist nods, punches at the air with his little fists and floats over to the desk to grab some lightweight items for you.

You share a room with Sonia; it's large enough to be divided into two. The division of the room is reminiscent of yin and yang. Whereas Sonia's section is a colourful, girlish paradise, yours is dull, gloomy, plain and lacklustre in every aspect. Your blinds are perpetually drawn, your walls devoid of any poster or print, your furniture basic and simple. Honestly, you don't spend enough time in the house to bother with decorations and only focus on the necessities.

You open your closet and begin changing out of your normal, everyday clothes and into a warmer shirt, trousers and a clean pair of socks before you pick up your trusty backpack which you keep propped up against the wall. Opening it, you begin packing your tools and various gear, grabbing them off your desk and tossing them inside. The only thing that does not properly fit is your sleeping bag which you keep rolled up and attach it to one side of your bag using a buckled strap.

Once her nails are dry, Sonia quickly gets up from her seat, leaves the room and promptly returns with a few snacks consisting of peanut butter protein bars, dried fruit mix and some Moomoo cheese that should help last you the entire night. "Here, take these."

"Thanks, Sonnie."

"I worry about you," Sonia says with a sigh as she returns to sit down and Cutiefly nestles in her hair and nuzzles the side of her cheek, "You're always leaving in the evening and coming home at dawn..."

"Can't help it, Sonnie. You know what it's like." You finally finish packing and stand up, donning your coat first before you pull the straps of your bag firmly over your shoulders. The last item you reach for is your pocket radio which Sonia eyes with concern.

"Be careful! And call us if anything comes up, okay? Well, maybe not Gran because she goes to bed at nine...but I'll still be up!"

You flash her a wide grin in response, "I'll be fine, Son. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck!"

You both exchange a hug before Cutiefly and Polteageist hover over to you and you pat them affectionately. "I'll be back soon. Be good," you say when they look at you sadly; you lean forwards and peck them over the top of their heads. Heading to the door, you turn to Sonia once more and throw your arms in the air. "Now I bid you, adieu."

Sonia giggles, twirling a curl of her hair with her finger whilst Polteageist waves sadly and Cutiefly loops in the air. You hurriedly dash out of the room, sprinting down the stairs and waving to Magnolia before you shove your feet into your hiking boots. You breeze out the house, heading towards the direction of the train station that will take you to the Wild Area. Checking your wristwatch, there should be a train arriving in ten minutes.

It's getting late, the sky is turning dark and people are on their way home but your day is just starting.

You are a Pokemon Researcher, specialising in the ghost type. You study the supernatural and the paranormal so naturally your work mostly begins at night. You have had clients who share with you stories of the weird and wonderful, the bizarre and downright strange and you've dedicated yourself in studying these mysterious and often terrifying occurrences. Galar is rich with supernatural lore and tales from the crypt so all in all, it's very exciting to be here.

Your new client and his horrific story is nothing new - it's probably a ghost Pokemon pulling the strings.

Having moved to Galar from Kalos, Magnolia and Sonia have been so good to you when you knew no-one and had no other place to go. They have taken you under their wing and they worry about you a lot usually because you leave at late evening or night, return at the ass crack of dawn and spend the majority of the day sleeping but this is a cycle you've grown accustomed to before you moved. Your body clock has completely adjusted. You're nocturnal.

You arrive at Wedgehurst station and go through the ticket barriers with your monthly pass in hand, surprised to see that the station is far busy today compared to usual.

Normally at this time, it's empty and quiet and the passengers are weary workers who are departing from their jobs in Wedgehurst to return home but on this occasion, you see far more individuals than you would have liked and you're forced to queue.

Nevertheless, you plug in your earphones, choose one of your favourite songs and bring out your journal to go over your notes you took down when you were speaking with the client.

When the train arrives, the increased number of passengers means you don't easily find a seat compared to other days as the commuters bumble in and out and the seats begin to slowly fill up. You look left and right and luckily, you find an empty seat just two rows ahead. You do hold back at first, wondering if there are any elderly citizens in the same carriage but after glancing around curiously, there are no old folk and no-one is interested in taking the seat.

You may as well sit down.

You end up squashed between a middle-aged woman who is busy knitting a green scarf with a Rowlet's face on it and on your left is a young guy dressed in white sweats with the hood pulled up and wrapped tightly around his head. A black cap has also been expertly placed to cover his face. He sits with his arms crossed over his chest, slouching to the side and quite possibly asleep.

Luckily, the next stop is the Meetup Spot of the Wild Area so you don't need to sit for too long.

A Charizard stands in front of you, holding onto one of the pivoted grab handles that dangle from the ceiling with a sticker slapped over his scaly chest that says 'World's Best Charizard'.

The doors of the carriage soon close and the train leaves the station, chugging down the tracks; during the brief journey, you and Sonia message each other before she goes downstairs for dinner so you leave her be to enjoy her meal. You use your notebook to occupy yourself and go through your notes and diagrams once again.

Your drawing skills are amateur but you've briefly sketched the house and drawn the horrific, ghostly man according to the boy's testimony and you spend some time studying your drawings until you hear Charizard let out an audible snort of curiosity and you look up.

He's looking at your notepad, at your diagrams, and you grin, "Oh? Are you interested?"

He nods.

It's not always you get the chance to talk to someone or a pokemon about your line of work because you're mostly met with skepticism or derisiveness. Therefore you find your grin widening and you excitedly gesture to the house. "There's a house in the Wild Area rumoured to be haunted. I'm heading there right now to take a look."

Charizard looks a little disturbed at your revelation and points a claw to the drawing of the old man and glances at you.

"That's a ghost."

His reptilian eyes widen thoroughly.

"I'm on the case. I'm a pokemon researcher, see?" You pull your badge out from your left pocket of your coat to show him and he scrutinises it intensely, "I'll get to the bottom of this and - "

You halt midway when the man on your left suddenly lets out a muffled groan and begins to lean against your shoulder with a tad more force than usual and you stiffen in your seat.

It's probably on accident and everyone else doesn't seem to notice; they're sitting with their pokemon or their eyes are glued onto their Rotom phones; everyone's too busy to notice so you inconspicuously use your shoulder to nudge him away and he returns to his normal spot. You inwardly breathe a sigh of relief until he slumps against you once more, groaning slightly. Even though he has a hat covering his face, underneath the fabric and you can feel his nose pressing against your neck and you tense up.

The train annoy announces that you're almost at your destination but you remember the wise words of Magnolia. She warned you to be careful when you're on the train at night, especially when you are on your own. Whilst you wonder if you are possibly sitting beside a pervert who is pretending to be asleep so he can act like he is nodding off and accidentally 'slumping' or 'bumping' against you, the Charizard helps you out by curling his claw and prodding at the young man firmly.

"Huh? What?" The sleepy young man finally retreats from you and you hear him mutter groggily, half-asleep.

Strange, his voice sounds familiar.

The tannoy sounds off once again: "We have now arrived at the Meetup Spot, Wild Area."

You're at your destination regardless so you quickly stand up and head to the doors with a few others as the train slowly rolls to a stop. Behind you, you hear the man waking up.

"Charizard, are we here?" he asks. Charizard lets out a low bellow and he exclaims, "Great! Let's go!"

As you step off the platform and begin to exit the station with the others, the young man breezes past you with Charizard at his heels, slotting his ticket into the machine and charging through the turnstile. Whilst you wonder what his rush is, it's then you see the long slither of purple hair cascading out of his cap in waves over his shoulders and it occurs to you that you had been sitting beside the Champion of Galar on the train the entire time.

Your eyes grow wide.

Charizard really should've been the first clue.

You leave the station dumbfounded as you contemplate this.

You don't know much about the Champion. The only information you know is the same stuff as any fan would know because you only used a quiz from a magazine to enrich your knowledge on him. You know his name is Leon, he is extremely handsome and nice, he has a Charizard, he is unbeatable, he has been the Champion for roughly ten years and he lives in Postwick. That's pretty much it.

In fact, your knowledge on modern affairs is so atrocious that you do often reprimand yourself that you should pay far more attention to the news and world affairs but your research took up a lot of your time and it didn't help that you were essentially a night owl. Regardless, Magnolia and Sonia knew him and he's been to the lab on a few occasions but needless to say, you were never there and more often than not, you were always fast asleep when he popped by.

You weren't engaged with or interested in the Pokemon League or the Championship anyway.

You had more important things to focus on, such as your studies.

The house is your priority now so you put away your music, take out your Rotom phone, turn on the GPS function and whip out your flashlight which you will use once you're on the path.

The Meetup Spot is a rendezvous point with only one or two friendly Watt Traders dressed in the most snazzy outfits you had ever laid eyes on and there is also a nice lady who can heal gym challenger's Pokemon essentially at no cost. You don't see the Champion or Charizard anywhere so you figured he must have headed towards the Wild Area already. You wonder why he is here and why he was keeping a low profile considering people are used to seeing him in his cape and champion uniform.

Standing at the summit, it grants you a fantastic view of the entire Wild Area which would've been more discernible if you were here during daylight hours. At night, all you can see is a massive and dark expanse with a few orangey blobs in the distance indicating a camp site or whatnot. There's not many. People don't like travelling at this hour.

You're going to be in there all night.

You spare a quick glance at your notes again. The group were travelling through the Rolling Fields and had apparently taken a shortcut past the Dappled Grove. They passed a pokemon den and a Pangoro who was sleeping near the lake. You are going to assume they mean West Lake Axewell. That doesn't give you much to work with but it's given you a good indicator as to what direction you should begin your search and furthermore the Rolling Fields isn't too much of a trek from the Meetup Spot.

You set off at once with your flashlight, wandering down the path that is outlined by tall trees. To a lost and tired traveller, the Wild Area can be frightening when it is dark but you're rather used to the paths and you've travelled extensively so you are rather familiar with the area.

Along the way, you jot down points of interest and mark your progress as you venture further. You see Hoothoots and Noctowls perched in the trees, cooing and watching you. A few Oddish scamper around, accompanied by some Spinaraks. They all hide when you approach.

As the night wears on and the hours pass, you wander aimlessly down the path yet find no trace of the house and you also don't see anyone along the way. That's how alone you truly are. You're halfway through the Fields when the trees to your left suddenly bustle and shake violently and you stop in your path and shine the flashlight, just to see a Hoothoot popping out from the branches, hooting loudly with glee.

It has a pile of clothes gripped in its one claw and you stare in confusion as to where it got the clothes from until two or three seconds later and a figure comes charging out of the trees, emerging from the same spot as Hoothoot.

Unable to stop himself in time when he spots you in the path, he smacks into you and you both go tumbling. It happens so quickly you are knocked off your feet before you can yell out and your back hits the cold and hard ground.

Whoever it is, he lands on top of you, his broad chest crushing the air out of your lungs. The impact is so strong your mind reels for a moment or so but you manage to shine your flashlight at the man and you see a pair of golden eyes staring back at you and you gape with shock.

It's Leon, and he looks as startled as you are as you both gawk at each other before he quickly scrambles off you and moves to stand, spluttering a string of apologies. You cannot believe your eyes; you have encountered the Champion twice in a day.

You see that he is damp and naked, save for the white towel wrapped around his hips which is threatening to fall off. He mutters a string of apologies whilst you merely stare with widened eyes.

Haunted house - zero. Wet, naked guy - one.

"Sorry!" He exclaims, sticking a hand out to you but you are so stunned by his presence you can only gape. Oblivious to your staring, he proceeds to explain his predicament, "Sorry, I...uh, a Hoothoot stole my clothes when I was taking a bath and I chased him out here. Are you...are you okay?"

Leon doesn't owe you any explanations yet he stands sheepishly before you, his cheeks stained with pink and it's a side to the Champion of Galar you have never seen before.

You are thoroughly reminded that he's still a human like you and that he too is a person on the pokearth who'll encounter bad luck on some occasions.

Poor guy.

You manage to pull yourself together, snapping out of your staring stupor.

"Oh, er...yeah, I'm fine." you utter quickly. It dawns to you that you’re not sure where to look when you catch a glimpse of his bare chest. His physique is not bulky or overly muscular... just perfect.

You quickly wipe those thoughts away from your mind and finally slip your diminutive hand into his, which is very warm, compared to yours anyway. He curls his fingers tightly around yours and pulls you up and off the ground.

"That's a relief," he says with a grin.

His strength is uncalled for as you're easily pulled back to your feet although you trip slightly and he is quick to catch you; his other hand shoots out to grab you firmly whilst you accidentally grasp his rock-hard bicep and your eyes grow wide.

You abruptly hop out of his grip and cradle your hand to yourself, your cheeks growing warm from the unfamiliar contact.

Above, Hoothoot coos with mischief and finally drops the clothes. The damage has been done; the clothes are stained with mud and you see it's a plain white t-shirt and black boxers.

However, Leon does not curse or yell at the owl as one might do. Instead, he grins widely. "Did you have fun?"

The Hoothoot nods with gratitude and flaps its tiny wings, flying away. You watch the departing pokemon whilst Leon quickly gathers his clothes up in his arms.

"I didn't mean to frighten you,” he says before he quickly pulls on his muddied shirt and slips on his shorts under the towel whilst you automatically glance away, cringing slightly. Once he's fully clothed, he whips the towel off and wraps it around his arm. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No, no, I'm alright," you utter quickly and Leon smiles warmly at your reassurance. His smile takes you off guard and you cannot help but stare, "Um, are you okay?"

He nods; he has some patches of dirt on his face so you delve a hand into your bag and pull out a pack of clean tissues which he accepts.

"Here, take this."

"Oh, uh, thanks very much!" he replies energetically, and his smile broadens as he wipes at his cheek.

His smile is contagious; you resist the urge to smile in return.

"Thanks!" He says again, when he's finished.

But he has some dirt on his chin so you gesture to yourself, "You still have some...ah, just a little...on your chin. Right there."

"Here?"

"Yeah."

He scrubs himself but the dirt remains on his chin.

".......Do you want some help with that?"

He looks owlishly at you. "Okay, sure."

You take a clean tissue from one of your own packet and step closer to him then lift your hand and carefully dab at the spot. Now that you're closer to him, you get a better look at his features.

All the stories, the dedicated websites, the magazine articles....they're all true. He's been asking if you are fine when he might be hurt too. He is kind. That's not all, even though he's wearing a basic t-shirt and boxers splattered in mud, he is incredibly good-looking.

With those long eyelashes, the dedicated gleam in his eyes, perfect pearly white teeth and long, unruly hair, the more you look at him the more your heart thumps a tad harder against your ribs.

Leon grows still, swerving his eyes to you.

When you look up, he quickly looks away.

Feeling awkward, you quickly finish the job and step backwards. "All done."

Leon thanks you again and for a moment or so, you both stand in silence until you realise there is no reason for you to linger any longer and the house is still waiting to be discovered. Clearing your throat, you straighten the lapels of your coat and adjust your bag to its proper position over your back.

"Well, I guess this goodbye - oh, wait, take this too," you fish a small glass bottle with a cork, no bigger than your pinky finger, that is filled with random herbs. "It's a good luck charm. It's been blessed and will keep you safe."

"Thank you, that's very thoughtful," Leon takes the little bottle out of your hand, inspects it before he slips it somewhere safe in his pockets.

"No worries. Goodbye now," you hurriedly make a beeline past him.

"Wait, you dropped these," Leon calls after you and you pause in mid-step at once, turning round slowly; he has picked up a card and a small black object off the ground and promptly holds them out to you.

Stunned, you pat yourself down only to discover that indeed, your pocket radio and card is missing. Bloody hell, how in the name of Arceus did you manage to drop the radio?? You mentally scold yourself and hastily return to his side to retrieve your items although you end up swiping the radio out of his hands rather forcefully, cradling it to your chest.

"Thanks. You can keep the card."

Leon glimpses at it briefly. It's your business card which contains your full name, occupation, email address and a contact number. There is also a brief blurb on your study of the occult. "...You're a Pokemon Researcher?"

"Yeah, that's right. I study ghost pokemon," you say without looking at him, your attention fully averted to the radio as you fiddle with the device, pulling out the antenna and rotating one of the dials. Although you move the dial, nothing gets picked up and there is only silence. You keep turning the dial until you configure it to the frequency of eighteen nine eight hertz.

"That's amazing. I heard that field of study can be terrifying."

You hesitate as he grins, then you nod. "It is. It's not for the faint-hearted. My line of work usually revolves around all sorts of dead things," you reply, before you ask, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

He blinks blankly at you. "Uh...well...I guess so."

His response is more or less awkward but you have placed him in a rather difficult position. You're not surprised by his response. Even though there are ghost-type pokemon, people still maintain skepticism when it comes to the supernatural.

A brief silence spawns following your reply. Leon appears...intrigued. He studies you carefully. You are a girl in a warm, long coat, slacks and comfy hiking boots. One would possibly mistake you for a gym challenger but you are a Pokemon Researcher and for a Pokemon Researcher, you are young for your age. And since you've met Leon all the way out here, you may as well ask.

"By the way, have you seen or heard anything weird around here? Like...weird lights or strange noises?"

"No-"

"Oh, okay, forget I asked then. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Wait," Leon says; he seems to have caught on that something must be amiss, "Is something wrong? Do you need help?"

The corner of your lips tug upwards into a smile. "No, it's fine-" you pause when a crackling static emits from the radio in your hands. Eyes wide, you lift it up and the white noise grows louder and louder until a scratchy and hoarse, little voice can be heard.

"......Is someone there? Hello....? Help me, please."

There are a couple of distorted crackling noises until the radio goes dead once again. You grow silent, lips turning into a frown.

Leon observes your reaction before he asks, "Who was that?"

You don't answer.

"Is your radio broken?"

"The question isn't a matter of who but what," you correct him, "'What was that'. And no, it's not broken. This is a special radio. It only works on this frequency."

And you show him your radio, the little screen and the dial and he glances over curiously.

"Eighteen ninety eight?" He utters.

"Yeah. If you want to see or hear ghosts, use this frequency."

Leon's reaction is a classic. His eyes widen to the size of saucers. Every time you talk to someone or meet someone, you always end up worming that into conversations and the expression on their faces are priceless. It's a killer.

"Well, that's what people say anyway. It's up to you if you want to believe it or not."

He looks confused.

You hope you haven't scared him too bad though so you grin widely to make him feel more at ease. "Relax. There's nothing here right now," you reply. He seems positively spooked as you slip the radio into your bag and zip it up. "Now if you excuse me, I have a haunted house to find. Goodnight."

Leon watches your retreating back heading further and further down the winding path until Charizard appears, swooping through the trees and landing on the ground with a loud thump. He's holding his sweats, bag and shoes and Leon grins widely.

"Thanks, buddy," Leon says, taking his belongings out of his grip; he slips on his shoes before Charizard snorts and nudges his head towards the trees. "Sorry, bud, not yet."

Charizard looks at him questioningly.

"I think we should go with her. She might need our help." Leon says, before he quickly reaches into his bag to pull out a clean shirt. He swap his sullied shirt and folds it away then hops behind a tree to change out of his muddy boxers for a new pair, dons his sweats and returns to the path.

He glances around, hoping to catch glimpse of you to see where you disappeared off to and successfully pinpoints you meandering down the beaten path a short distance away.

He yells your name and begins to trail after you.

You haven't gone too far and upon hearing Leon's voice, you turn round.

You stop in your path, raising a brow as soon as you spot a fully and more appropriately-dressed Leon dashing towards your direction with Charizard behind him. Stunned, you blink blankly as he stops in front of you, panting somewhat.

“Um...What are you doing?" you ask in bewilderment.

You glance at Charizard and he has the same sticker you saw at the train so you're certain it's him and he seems to recognise you also, tilting his head at you curiously and you nod. He lets out a loud but delighted huff in response.

"What? You two know know each other?" Leon asks, and Charizard nods. "You met on the train?"

Charizard nods again.

You merely grin.

"Then I guess no introductions are needed," Leon averts full focus back to you. "Can we come with you?"

"Why?"

"Because I think you need help."

"It's okay, I don't need help. No offence to you and the big guy," you reply, gesturing to Charizard, "Besides, I'm a bit of a lone wolf and it could be dangerous."

"That's exactly why we should go with you."

You're not particularly worried about Charizard so you proceed to examine Leon carefully, circling him with a hand under your chin as you look at him from head to toe and he blinks under your scrutiny. Maybe they should come after all. It would make things more interesting.

"...Alright. You want to come with me? Let's go then."

Leon replies with a grin, "Lead the way."

#jeralee #comfort in despair #archiveofmyown #leon #dande #Leon x reader #pokemon #pokemonshield #pokemonsword #pokemon shield and sword #sonia #professor magnolia

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ffxiv-ariavitali · 4 years ago

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A WOL with her first Moonfire Faire. Wants to spend it with Thancred. Food, dancing, swimming and by the end is absolutely floored by the fireworks display. Maybe a kiss to wrap up the night?

sorry it took so long to reach this. may not be moonfire anymore, but i’m sure as hell still gonna write about it

❅ ❅ ❅

With the amount of times you have had to save the star from impending doom, he often forgets that there were many aspects of Eorzea that you wished to explore, experience and take in. Thus, when you had made mention that you wished to visit Costa del Sol this season for your first Moonfire Faire, Thancred was quick to his feet in offering to be your escort.

Thancred was amused by your beaming expression and sparkling eyes. You were all over the place—pointing your finger towards each of the stalls, to the people that you had recognized (and yes, he also saw Emmanellain and Honoroit by the juice bar) and to the absolute chaos that was a sea of people sunbathing and dancing to the rhythm of the music with this yearly festivity.

Of course, the moment that you stepped forward on the white sand beach, you were being dragged along into helping with a problem one way or another. Thancred was with you as you were brought here and there, learning the Flame dance along the way and somehow made use of it when empowering a bombard?

(The details of the whole ordeal became muddled in Thancred’s head at one point. The mere idea of the encounter was laughable in his eyes that he couldn’t bear to truly comprehend it. Replacing it was curious wonder to how you managed to take the event in stride and whether such ridiculousness was a common occurrence during your free adventures.)

Once you were finished, you and Thancred were treated to new attire that suited the event and the rogue wondered if this was him truly being blessed for all the good karma that he has managed to accumulate over time. The outfit looked good on you and it was hard to peel his eyes off of your figure.

(Though, he’s had to make scary faces to bystanders when you weren’t looking. Truly, being a famous individual and being pleasing to the eye is something he can sympathize with.)

Throughout the day, you both spend time playing games and eating food. At the recommendation of one of your adventuring friends, you two played the watermelon game where you try to smash it open while blindfolded and you both laughed your hearts out. Swimming was also a must and he had to stop himself from blushing too hard at the sight of you in your swimsuit lest he passes out from both the heat and his embarrassment.

The main attraction was the fireworks display by the beach. With the clear night sky, it was easy to see the lights flashing on high, the sparkles dancing across the air with precision and yet reckless abandon. The shapes and colors excited you in a childish way, a pleasant way.

During the show, Thancred shifted his gaze to your face and reached out to place his hand on yours. He saw the way you were pulled from your reverie to peer towards him and he was sure you saw the small glint in his eyes when he saw your eyes widen.

Longing was painted across your visage, a silent acceptance, and you leaned in just as he did. Slowly. Carefully. Attentively. In this moment, you two were in your own sphere, in your own bubble, and nothing else around you mattered. As you felt his lips press against yours and how your body instinctively pressed itself gently against his figure, a warmth burning hotter than the summer heat filled you from within.

Thus did the Moonfire Faire become your favorite Eorzean celebration.

#ffxiv headcanons #ffxiv writing #thancred waters #moonfire faire #aria vitali writes

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theholycovenantrpg · 4 years ago

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In the beginning was ARAEL, an ANGEL loyal to the cause of the ANGELS. She is said to be IMMORTAL and uses SHE/HER pronouns. In this New Testament she serves as a MEMBER of the VIRTUES. Blessed be her name.

THE INDEILIBLE MARK.

Arael was anointed the Virtue of Hope not long after Michael took his place upon the throne of the Kingdom of Caelum. It was with great fanfare that she was awarded this title, but Arael did not place much value in it -- so long as she was not bid to fulfill Michael’s every will and whim, she would take the title and swear fealty to him. She would wield her weapons and spill blood in his name, but her freedom and will would still be her own. When she bent her knee, though, she discovered that the gifts she had intrinsically held began to increase ten-fold -- Arael was able to instill a hope that bordered on the precipice of delusion. She could discern the greatest hopes that one might hold and foster, until their vision grew cloudy and they could see nothing but the fulfillment of their greatest and loftiest of dreams. It was how she managed to render a horde of Heretics utterly useless and gain a pivotal victory when acquiring the Holy Land. What it does to her in turn, though, is remind her of a hope that she can never have and a dream she can never fulfill.

THE HISTORY.

It was once written in a book that has long rotted away that the illustrious angel Arael was not created by God as the others were -- those angels were plucked from existence, born from the foam of the sea, the clay of the earth, or the glinting ray of the sun. Arael however, was not something that came from the earth that God had created; Arael was a creature of the cosmos, too lofty and accustomed to the cold emptiness of the inky black skies to ever be mistaken as an earthly creation. Who could look upon her and think anything but? In a language long forgotten, the rotting book described how God had caught a falling star in His palm, salvaging His creation from the burning star that sought to perish in a glorious cacophony of destruction with the earth. It was meant to be beautiful, as all annihilation is. But Arael was robbed of her own decimation, had her Fate stripped from her by the selfishness of a deity that knew nothing but the fulfillment of His own whims. From this star, God had twisted the light that bled from it until it was rendered into the shape of a woman, with features as ethereal as the material which she had been spun from and eyes far more distant than the constellations from which she had escaped. Though she had burned against His hand in defiance and rioted against her inception, she was nonetheless sculpted into a heavenly being and granted the gift of wings. Among her brethren she was placed, a lofty, shining thing whose light neither warmed nor illuminated, yet shone all the same. Unwillingly, and begrudgingly, into creation she was wrought -- and God could not help but sigh in utter adoration at the sight of her.

Perhaps it was because, in Arael’s visage, one could see the beauty of unabated melancholy, could bask in her despondent allure without fear of feeling its hopeless grip in their own heart. Yet, Arael still did as was bid by her, not knowing what else to do but God’s bidding. She razed cities at His behest, instilled in the round eyes of mortals the fear of God, and echoed His proclamations so that all might know of His wrath and His glory. It was odd how, when she would look at her fingers, she would only be able to see what God had wrought -- the hands that she stared at were not her own. When she passed her reflection and wearily cast her eyes over the visage that was there, what looked back at her was not a face that she knew or cared for, it was the face of a creature shackled by the weight of their own immortality. When her own winged brethren looked at her, they saw her beauty yes, but they also saw the cruelty in her existence; they saw how she longed to return to the vast emptiness of the universe. There was one angel though, with a smile as beguiling as the beauty of constellations to the naked eye, who laughed at her melancholy and bid her to not look at herself, but at the world around her. She bid her to look at the beauty that could be soon, to look at the ripeness of the earth instead of the melancholy of her own expression.

When she saw the world through her companion’s eyes, she was hard pressed to wear the shroud of melancholy that she had known for so long. Existence, suddenly, was no longer a punishment, but an adventure. No longer was an expression of weariness dragging at the edges of her eyes and the worn curve of her mouth; there was a glint to the light that was cast from her -- an enchantment that one would be hard pressed to find in any creature but the luminous Arael. Together, she and her companion danced in the skies as the world aged around them, among the colors of the borealis and along the peaks of mountains loftier than humans dared to reach. When she brought about the punishment of the Lord it was now with laughter that she oversaw such decimation. As she performed blessings and conjured miracles, it was with a small smile of benevolence, and as her name was rendered in ink, it was with kindness that she now looked upon the creatures of flesh and blood, the ones that called themselves man. And, at the end of each eon, she would find herself hand-in-hand with the angel that had shown her the beauty of creation and the contentment that could be found in endless existence. One would think, that for immortal creatures, that they be promised the notion of eternity -- a word that Arael had once thought to be interchangeable with prison. Instead, though, she was granted the singular curse of understanding the word finite in an intimate and unforgettable way.

When the world was made anew, the wildness of it called for exploration -- and Arael and her companion were all too eager to dance in its novelty and bask in the freshness of its soil. But then the soil was drenched in blood. Wars were fought, battles were won and lost -- and just when she thought she could taste peace on her tongue, she found that, instead, it was coated in the bile of despair. The angel that had become her salvation lay dead in her arms, eyes wide and unseeing, mouth parted in a cry that was never heard. There were those who said that it was the attack of a Gifted, who harbored hatred for infernal and celestial creatures alike. Others have whispered about a demon that harbored ill will towards the angels that had smote their brethren when they were all cast out of the heavenly city. Demon or mortal, she did not care. Instead, Arael was instilled with a singular thought that burrowed itself into the marrow of her luminous bones; she will have her justice. And in this justice, she would find her peace. She does not care for what she will have to do in order to have the blood of the guilty spilled, whether she razes a village or a kingdom, Arael will take what it is owed to her. What is owed to her, is doing to the offender what they have done to her -- it will be with a smile on her face that she carves their heart from their chest, and watches that wide, open chasm bleed.

THE CONNECTIONS.

BASTIEN AVALOS: Wolf. She has seen many mortals like him -- has witnessed them rise because of their ambition and fall because of their arrogance. There was no satisfaction to be gained from it then, before she had whetted her tongue with the heady liquor of vengeance. Now, the only thing she could think is to gain the rich satisfaction of watching him fall from the pedestal he had placed himself on, to watch him tumble and bruise, to cut himself on the bramble of his own conceit that awaited below. She knows of how delicate the situation is -- to dismantle a member of the Round Table was to declare a war between the angels and mortals, but with each passing day she finds herself growing more and more hungry for his undoing. Even though there is a tenuous alliance between the two, she sees him for what he is. An honorless fool. And if the Fate of the universe will not discipline him for his pride, then she will act in its name. Eventually.

GADRIEL: Beacon. In the void of her grief, Gadriel kept her tethered. Like a string, holding a kite in the midst of a storm; Gadriel clung to her and did not let her sorrows fill up her lungs, did not let her drown in her grief. When all had abandoned her, her own brethren and kin, it was Gadriel who kept watch -- in the throes of her agony, something worthwhile had been fostered. Since then, Arael has come to Gadriel like a touchstone, reminding her of the pain that she had overcome and the sweet memories of her companion that she needs to hold onto. The solidity of the other angel’s embrace is something that Arael finds herself searching for, longing for. Gadriel has become a sanctuary for her grief just as much as a sanctuary against it. And though she has lost her companion, she finds that when she looks at the other angel, she has not quite lost her hope. At least, what vestiges of it that remain.

ABADDON: Secret. Where Arael was ethereal, luminescent serenity Abaddon was like a blight against a blue sky. But she had known to look past that, to see instead what usefulness might be found with an infernal creature. With hands as dirty as theirs, does it not make sense to utilize them rather than dirtying one’s own pristine fingers? So, in secret, Arael had dragged to the demoness’ feet those who she suspected of being present when her beloved companion’s heartbeat was fast fading. In the midst of her blinding fury, it was difficult to distinguish their faces, the sound of their wailing, and the different bargains they had tried to make with her when Abaddon did as she did best and dragged the truth of their being from their grinding teeth. As of late, she’s frequented Abaddon less and less -- but still, there is a part of her that wonders if she has lost herself to her vengeance. But the solace that she finds in the suffering of others quiets any doubt. It soothes the wisps of guilt that breathe whenever Abaddon says her name.

ASMODEUS: Disconcert. Over the eons that she has watched, Arael has become used to the way that her powers seem to pervade every facet of her life. It has allowed her to read others as easily as one might read a manuscript -- save for Asmodeus. A singular anomaly that fills her with equal parts intrigue and unease. When they first encountered one another, she had let her ability run over them like a hand runs against silk, savoring the ease of texture. But instead, she had only encountered a void, the absence of desire as soothing as it was completely unnerving. Since then, she has always found herself innately reaching for his presence when the world seems to overwhelm her. He uses everyone else to fill the abyss within him -- is it not then justified that she might use him when she overflows with the hopes that are everyone else’s?

Arael is portrayed by Sui He and was written by ROSEY. She is currently TAKEN by ALYX.

#literate rp #fantasy rp #new rp #lsrpg #rpg #w #a #arael #c #cw

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marjiandco · 4 years ago

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#2: Sway

Timeline: stormblood

Word Count: 584

Characters: Marji, Lyse, Haurchefant, Raiku, Ooji’a

The warrior of light can seem like a mysterious being to people. She seems to show up wherever she's needed, and disappear just as quickly. She seems serious, a smile far removed from her visage, and quiet. A silent nod to mimic a conversation before she's off again, on some adventure to save your house and home. A stranger that's so familiar you could reenact with relative accuracy to the delight of your friends.

Yet.

For those who know her, she is anything but. She isn't the Warrior of Light, but Marji, a keeper with a pension to take herself too seriously at times but is learning to smile more and more. When she see's you as the sun's dimming, a particular glint in her eye, you know its over. She's going to ask you to dance in some godsforsaken bar that you've somehow never heard of before in your life. Scions, family, loves, friend, it doesn't matter. If there's an inkling she has feelings for you you can bet she'll drag your ass to a dusty dance floor. She's not so far removed from people's interests though that she picks the same music. Each person gets their specific genre.

With her best friend, she knows he prefers dreamy melodies that remind him of soft fields and cool breezes. They'll go together and sway to nostalgia, sometimes together and sometimes far apart. When she was with Haurchefant they would slow dance together in an open area, snow falling around them and bar patrons far from their sight to create the illusion of it just being them.

Lyse, of course with the heavy burden thrust upon her shoulders recently has tried to rebuff Marji's advances, until Marji dragged her out of her home in Ala Mhigo proper to a dingy trash heap of a bar. Inside music would envelope the pair of them, so loud no thought could cross their mind without a jumble of lyrics mixing into their streams of consciousness. Marji wouldn't let Lyse's hands go, and the pair of them would bounce wildly in the thick of the dancefloor until Lyse forgot her responsibilites, just for the night.

Even her brother, a smoldering ember of a person, could not rebuff his sisters advances. He would complain he sings in bars for money regularly, why the fuck would he want to go on his days off? She found his weakness however: karaoke bars. She's gather as many people as she could and they 'd all clamour into the small rooms available, and her brother would waste no time letting people know what kind of music he's into. Marji couldn't sing for the life of her, but she would appreciate, cheer, and dance around for her friends.

Each of these people and more would recount tales of long nights that felt seconds with her, each wondering how she could pinpoint their likes and dislikes so closely, but they knew she meant well. She herself, when no one would acquiesce, would find herself dancing with herself. Something untamable similar to Lyse's style that would make her sweat all of her anxiety away. Her life sometimes feels not it's own. The way people look to her, the people she stands against, it would get overwhelming more often than not as her decisions could determine life and death for thousands. So, she sways to music, and pulls her close friends in with her, the light of company to hold her hand without having to ask for it.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxiv #stormblood spoilers #kinda #marji #shes a dancing queen #young and sweet #only REDACTED

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oraclequill · 5 years ago

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Through Words - Priam/Robin

Cross-posted to AO3! A reblog or kudos on AO3 is always appreciated!

Priam lunged the training sword he held in his hand, bringing it against the side of the secured training post. His arm and back ached as he leaned his weight onto the heavy weapon. It was his mind that turned with uneasy thoughts that kept him out of bed. Castle Ylisse was far from quiet at this time of night, but neither was there the usual chatter and volume of familiar voices spoken during the day. The night guards spoke to themselves in shushed whispers as a means to pass the time. Taking the sword up, he made to return to his training, but something gave Priam pause; the noise of approaching footsteps.

Listening, he turned in time to see Robin passing by the courtyard door. She wore her purple longcoat, letting it drape loose over her nightdress and around her shoulders. Robin placed her arms held around herself as she walked, but it was clear to Priam that she seemed to be hiding how her body was trembling.

Priam spoke her name, keeping his tone low to not startle her. His calling went unheard by her as she moved from his sight. Leaving the training sword behind, he followed after his friend. Robin’s walking speed was deceiving, as the moment Priam entered the one room, she had already gone into another. Her rustling coat told him she wasn’t too far ahead for him to be unable to catch up.

He turned into the next corridor, slowing in his gait to see the end of coat move through the open door archway. Priam followed, stopping in awe of the small garden. Beds of flowers and rows of hedges were simple in the amount and placement of the person’s choosing. Fireflies flickered and wove through the night air, passing back and forth over the plants.

Robin had sat down on the stone bench, facing the basin and she stared at the flowing water from the vase the statue carried. Her back was to him and he approached her, gently placing his hand to her shoulder. Looking away from the statue, Robin smile tiredly at him before she shifted to move to one side of the bench, giving him room to join her. Taking the seat she offered, Priam stared in worry at her.

“Another nightmare?”

“Yes, and no,” Robin said, her brow drawing together in her thoughts. “I heard the voice of a woman. I think it was a memory... I heard my mother's voice.”

“Go on.” Priam nodded for her to continue. “What else was there?”

Robin shook her head, “It's still hazy... Maybe someone was shouting? A woman was telling me to run. We were under attack? Grima...” She huffed with an angered breath.

“Hey,” Priam said soothingly. “Don't force the memory loose.”

“I don't want to remember any more of that monster,” Robin's voice became thick. “What if I want to remember my mother? What if I'm choosing to be selfish and demanding that one memory…of her final moments, back?” She inhaled a steadying breath. “She risked everything for me--her daughter--a daughter who can't…remember her mother's own face.”

Robin's skin became flushed with color and tears showed in her eyes that went down her cheeks. Standing up to kneel in front of her, Priam waved the sleeve cuff of his loose shirt to come over his hand. He used it to carefully swipe at‌ Robin’s face and she huffed again with a damp laugh. She reached for his covered hand, holding it to her cheek.

“This is naïve to say,” Priam seated himself back at Robin’s side and he leaned to rest his chin on the top of her hair. “but the love we know our families held toward us? When we remember that, even a little?” He placed his arm around her shoulder. “It’s as if they’ve never truly left us.”

“Priam,”‌ Robin placed her hand under his, making his fingers splay as their palms folded together. “Do you have memories about your family?”

“I wish I could say ‘yes’ that I have many of them, but no, I don’t.” said Priam, his head still leaning on hers. “I was woken up by a recurring dream I’ve had all these years about the both of them.”

“You’ve never mentioned this,” Robin lifted her head from his shoulder to stare at him in surprise. “What happened to them? Did you have the chance to learn where it was they went?”‌

Raising his hand to slow her oncoming slew of questions. Priam smiled, despite the old and familiar pressure that caused his heart to sink, unseen, in his chest.

“It was no mystery as to where the two of them were going,”‌ said Priam. “Any young and able body had been conscripted into the Ylisse-Plegia war by the, at-the-time, Exalt. …They’ve been gone for a long time.” Priam squeezed Robin’s hand as she rubbed his palm in comfort. “I guess something was in the air for me, too, tonight.”

He smiled when Robin pulled her fingers in a stronger hold to his hand. The noise of the fountain water and chirping crickets was the only sound as the two of them fell into a thoughtful silence. Robin let her head rest again on Priam’s shoulder while they stared into the garden.

“High Deliverer. Radiant Hero.”

Among the green and yellow glow of the fireflies, gathering glints of blue were beginning to shine at a spot in front of them. Priam came to his feet, pulling Robin to stand with him. The spirit of the divine dragon faded into view and she nodded in greeting to the both of them.

“Naga?”‌ Robin blinked, her surprise apparent. “What’s going on?‌‌ Did something happen? Is–”

“Be at peace, Robin,” Naga raised a comforting hand to her. “Your world is still safe, I swear it.‌ I am here to deliver a message to him.”‌ She nodded her head at Priam.

“You’ve been talking to the Divine Dragon?” Robin looked at Priam, her brow raised.

“She’s been talking to me, and I was just as surprised as you,” said Priam. “Clearly, seeing that I’m not among her chosen children.”

“No, you are–thankfully–not,” Naga replied, smiling when Robin snorted and Priam grimaced at her words. “I will jest another time, as time is running short.”‌

Opening her hand, Naga revealed a transparent set of stone doors. Fractures showed in the large pillars of the illusion and the light contained in the open space pulsed and waned and repeated.

“You remember the conversation we had some days back, do you not?”‌ Naga let the projection float in front of her. “This is the state of the Outrealm Gate that the Fell Dragon arrived through. In the wake of his demise,”‌ She inclined her head to Robin. “and with the last of his power truly fading? The doors to other worlds are vanishing and it will be some time before they open again. A long time.”

“How long do I have?” Priam asked, reaching his hand for the small visage of the gate.

“You have before the dawn comes. Today--”‌ said Naga, ignoring Priam's irritated scoff at her word. “Unless... You have dwelled on the matter and already come to your other decision?”

“His other decision?” Robin repeated, looking at Priam curiously.

“No hesitation in putting one of your mortals on the spot, eh?” Priam shrugged as he rolled his eyes, managing to smile.

“Apologies, Priam,” Naga appeared pleased. “Revered though I am by many. I, too, choose when to show wit through words... Perhaps you should do the same?” Priam looked from Naga to Robin, his eyes meeting hers and his heart gave a harder beat as his nerves were beginning to rise.

“You're leaving Ylisse?” Robin’s voice was level, but her words were weighed from the sadness in them.

“I considered it. For a long time.” said Priam, his hand rubbing the back of his head. "It was something I was set on doing. Seeing another world. Exploring new lands. Meeting new people, maybe friends or enemies...” He gave a short pump of his fist as he spoke. “The drive to follow through with it was so strong in my veins, but... I have a stronger--much stronger--feeling in...my heart.” Priam swallowed over the thickness that came to his throat. “And it's that I...think I have fallen...in love. With you.”

Robin set her hands on her hips, “So, you're going to risk a lifetime of great promise, glory and adventure,” She stepped closer to him. “All for and in the name of love, hm?”

“Love is it's own adventure,” Priam shrugged sheepishly and he placed his own foot forward. “and we'll be...together. If you'd like to stay with me?”

Robin hummed, the sound thoughtful as she tapped at her chin and loomed nearer. Priam leaned his face to hers, angling his head to meet Robin's own closing of the distance. From the corner of his eye, he realized that Naga was still staring. The divine dragon had her hands together and a bright smile that caused her to glow at a stronger gleam.

“Do you mind?” Priam grumbled, his brow narrowed.

“Oh,” Naga gave a small jump and she looked between them both. “Do not mind me. Please,” She waved her hand. “Proceed.”

Robin came down into a fit of giggles and she held her arms around Priam's neck to hold him close and stay upright. Naga, with the smile still on her face, vanished without any other word. Embracing Robin, Priam lifted her as his strength took her feet off the ground. Robin laughed more, her arms holding him tight while they spun together. From afar, Naga beamed to herself, believing that the two of them would be happy for the years to come.

#Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Awakening #Priam #Robin #Ylisse #Char: Radiant Hero #Char: High Deliverer #OracleQuill's Writing #Pairing: A Token of My Great Respect

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jeezricksa · 5 years ago

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“They’ll name constellations after you one day.”

it feels like they’re sitting on the edge of the world right about now.

you’d think the stretch of infinite stars overhead would have become somewhat unremarkable at this point, considering all the time he spends in space ; reduced to little more than a rarely acknowledged backdrop. maybe the wonder is supposed to fade off after a while as he bears witness to far vaster, far more impressive things while he’s adventuring.

yet the little glints of silvery white light that illuminate the pitch black galaxy still make his breath catch in his throat and the sight floods his chest with an old, tender warmth when he can only find the time to stop and look up at them … which is — actually, uh, less often than one might think. sure, he’s near enough always out here amongst them. but morty’s also often preoccupied with running, screaming, shooting at shit, getting berated, having a perfectly justified outburst of temper, and exploring.

mortimer speaks. hazel hues, flecked softly with starlight, tear away from what lies before them and turns to his company instead — somehow, he manages to look even more fond of what he lays eyes on now. a warm, albeit sheepish smile crosses his visage at the other’s sentiment.

“ aw, jeez, mortimer … i - i don’t know if - i don’t think … thank you. but, if they were gonna name constellations after any morty, i - i actually, i’m sure it’d be you! y’know? you’re a president, and, and you’re making differences, and - well, i’m definitely biased, but. i think you’re pretty great. ” that’s an understatement ; mortimer’s somebody worth remembering.

meanwhile, who is morty, really? c-136. nothing special. just one of countless awkward teenage boys wearing an obnoxiously bright yellow shirt and doing his best — don’t forget fucking up a ton along the way. bumping up against the other teen playfully, he turns his attention skyward again for all of a brief moment.

“ —— hey, you know what we should do? we should pick one out for each other right now! instead of, y’know, w - waiting around for … whoever the hell actually decides these things. right? … … … or is that lame? ”

#your honor... i would simply Lay Down My Life for them...#morty just cares mortimer so MUCHHH...#I MISSED THEM THIS WARMED MY HEART CLEARED MY SKIN MY CROPS ARE FLOURISHING... truly #mcrtimersmith #answered .

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requiem-wra · 5 years ago

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Unstuck in Time - Part 2

This is an event summary write up for RP partners and guildies to look back on if needed. Short Summary: Basteala, Mielle and Irothel are swept up in a time-traveling adventure to capture or kill an alternate reality version of their good friend Raelenin. Many paradoxical shenanigans and moral deliberations ensued

(Part 1) - (Part 2)

The Precipice of Disaster

For their own reasons, all three were hit hard by the sight of the fallen city, renewed and bustling. The temple grounds buzzed with all the trappings of a festival, only slowly winding down at the end of the night. Night elven children ran hither and yon, delivering messages for candy payments or small amounts of coin. Priestesses chattered outside, braiding bracelets to give away for protection and gossiping about the war.

Iro told Mielle and Bast to sort this out on their own, desperate to meet with someone lost to the fire. She bolted for the market stalls despite Bast's carful warnings. She rushed through the diminishing crowd and spotted her father, back at his stall selling his hand-made wares.

Iro's conversation with her father gutted her emotions and seemed to make time itself uneasy. Still, she managed to still her heart's urges and obey the whims of fate. She was able to have a conversation with him and purchase one of his moonkin carvings without raising his suspicious or saying too much for time to allow. However, the interaction took much of her energy and left her wilted.

Meanwhile, Bast and Mielle began to understand that this version of Darnassus was just on the eve of its end, before the fall of the whisp wall. Basteala decided to focus on her amulet and try to use her newly awakened awareness of time to search for any strange signals. She found three where she expected only two. Bewildered, she convinced Mielle to split up and help search for them.

Bast's wandering search took her to the North, toward the bank at the center of the city. She followed the signal and just managed to catch sight of a Raelenin escorting two unknown women into a portal. Bast watched, mind racing as this version of Rael stepped through alongside the unknown ladies and left a horrible wound in time behind. She considered chasing after him, but correctly concluded any Rael stepping out of the timeline must not be the alternate.

Mielle found a version of Rael, exhausted and drifting off to sleep where he stood, tucked into a an alcove formed by the temple's exterior wall. She decided this must be the past Raelenin and decided to leave him be. Unable to watch the tragedy of Iro's interaction with her father or Rael's clear exhaustion any longer, she began to wander away, only to realize that one of the messenger children was headed straight for the younger Rael…

Suspicious, Mielle tripped the child and intercepted the message. The message read only, ominously, "Fix the first mistake. Give me the name of the branch." Mielle correctly assumed that the alternate Rael must be attempting to find his double and set out to hunt him down.

She turned toward the Illidari team camping by the lake on the eve of battle. Through a series of deceptions and her innate understanding of the Illidari organization, she convinced Vitaria and her squad to help her hunt down a "dangerous arcane fugitive." Wary of a sudden burst of arcane magic, Vitaria split her team and sent Mielle ahead with fellhunter and observer-bound teammates to sniff out the arcane scent.

While moving to intercept the final anomaly, Bast found a completely new timewalker. She introduced herself to the dragon Cherinormi, quickly learning that the bronze dragon in Dwarf form had a serious bone to pick with Raelenin. Cheri explained that the timeline had suddenly sprouted a new branch here, an event that shouldn't have been possible without a chronomage there to stabilize it. Bast mentioned Rael's name, and Cheri leapt at the sound, automatically assuming the new branch must somehow be his fault. She conscripted Bast to help her arrest him.

Irothel fled the emotional upheaval of interacting with her father, only to run right into the Rael of the past. She caught Zan's eye, hidden in Raelenin's bag. Recognizing that she hadn't caused any paradoxes yet, she called out to him in draconic. "It's Cake-Bearer!" she hissed, and time clicked into place as Iro accidentally created her own draconic nickname.

She shook off the discomfort of time threatening to reset or loop into paradox and did her best to distract Rael with small talk and rest. Irothel managed to keep him ignorant of the situation and halt the delivery of yet another note, much to the alternate Rael's chagrin.

Though Bast couldn't conscience Cheri's constant insults and the level of mistrust aimed at her friend, she begrudgingly recognized the dragon's use as an ally. She and Cheri both caught sight of the final, alternate Rael mid-argument, both dropping the subject to rush to his side. Bast used her necklace's power to blink to his side, Cheri rushing on foot behind her. She caught him by the throat, flooding him with enough Light to paralyze him.

Mielle fell into an easy comradery with the Illidari squad, arising zero suspicion as they guided her to the suspicious arcane source. They found it quickly, and Mielle stepped through time to reach the very place where some version of Rael broke reality and created a new branch. From there, she was finally able to see the alternate Raelenin she had meant to target all along. Instead of rushing to him immediately she trusted in her teammates and took the moment to try to heal the temporal damage her friend had wrought, successfully easing it with her deputized abilities.

Bast and Mielle converged on the trapped Raelenin as he began to chafe under the sealing. A sense of impending doom gripped them all, and Iro had to double down to keep the Rael of the past from interfering. Stymied at every turn and swiftly losing his mind and his patience both, the alternate Rael decided to abandon this timeline utterly. He threw himself into the infinite, corrosive temporal magic eating at Bast's light. Only Bast's anchor and a last minute effort from Cherinormi kept alternate Rael from stepping sideways into a new timeline. Still, his attempt to leave tore a portal in the center of the lake, and the trio's necklaces warmed with enough magic for one more jump to follow.

The Caverns of the End

The deputy time-walkers stepped through time in a way that had started to become familiar. They blinked, and opened their eyes to a sand-strewn cavern littered with debris reminiscent of Darnassus.

"You're his friends, aren't you?" The alternate Rael spat, his form twisted through with infinite energy. Darkness poured off him, eyes lit with a blazing electric blue that seemed to crack through his very skin. "Why are you stopping me? I've been looking for a timeline stable enough to make this work for So. Long. and you've made it utterly pointless!"

Iro reached out for Mielle, already crying. She'd put the pieces together. She understood what he wanted to do. Eyes puffy, she called, "She's gone, Raelenin! Let her rest!"

In the Caverns of Time, as the alternate Rael slowly unravels in mind and body, the truth of what the alternate tried to do slowly makes itself clear. That first mistake, the death of his twin, had haunted the alternate and driven him to madness. He'd wanted to reach Rael's original timeline and change it--exchange Rael for his twin sister, fix the mistake. "What does it matter if just one version of Raelenin has to disappear?" He begged them, eyes wild, but to no avail. The Dawn trio tried to understand--tried to find a peaceful way forward, but the path was closed. Blinded by his tainted magic, the alternate Rael became an Infinite beast and attacked those who should have been his friends.

The approach of the bronze flight from elsewhere in the cavern wore at the Dawn's newfound sense for all things temporal as they sought to restrain their alternate reality friend. Bast threw herself into combat with the beast, bringing the full fury of her light to bear. Mielle matched the metamorphosis with her own half-state, leaping into battle. While the alternate was able to score a few heavy blows, the tag-teaming duo kept him too distracted and pinned down to truly deal damage. Irothel's light protected her teammates from the harshest of blows, lessening the scorch of unstable magic and shadowed claws.

Even as they battled, the team tried to remind Raelenin of his better senses. However, their battle prowess won out before their logical arguments. Rael was knocked unconscious and bound by vines sent by Elune, helpless on the ground as the wave of bronze flight members slowly grew ever closer.

Sensing that these flight members would see the alternate Rael meet a fate they didn't intend, the trio takes their captive and activates their necklaces for the final burst of magic they need to return to their proper, linear time. As they slid into the all-too familiar embrace of infinite time, they saw Cheri's angry visage whip into the corridor in their wake. The last thing they saw before blinking back to their own present was her transformation to an enraged, enormous adult dragon…

On the other side of time, the trio found themselves once again upon the sands of Uldum, sun setting, glinting wounded red on the horizon. As they corporealized, they glimpsed their own backs disappearing into the first portal, those versions of them beginning the journey in Theramore. The bronze mask turned away from where he'd seen them off and met them arriving with a knowing smile.

"Okay, I have terms," Mielle called, and the Bronze Mask encouraged the trio to start their negotiations for the fate of their selves and both versions of Rael. Immediately they made demands for Rael's sentence the Mask couldn’t conscience, but he assured them that they'd done well enough to merit an appearance at the next council meeting.

Agreeing that the Dawn should keep their memories, the Mask suggested they would have to remain as deputies in his command if they wished to keep the amulets. He asked the trio to consider staying on as timewalkers, in whatever limited capacity that might require of them. Bast refused, citing her duty to the Dawn over her duty to time. Mielle and Irothel had a harder time finding an answer, and asked for more time to decide.

The alternate Rael was restored to his usual form, and the Bronze Mask asked the Dawnsmen what they thought should be done with him. Unanimously, the trio decided he should be magically bound and sent to another timeline--one where the original didn't survive, that he might have some solace and a chance at finding his own way apart from grief. Perhaps he might even find some version of his companion Zan there.

With little fanfare, the Mask agreed to this plan, explaining that he was happy to hear the Dawnsmen come to such a merciful decision. He sent the alternate away, and his immense temporal magic lit up the timestream like a beacon… He moved to release the original Rael from his frozen state, only to pause himself. His magic had done what he thought it might, and Cheridormi had found them.

The Mask laughed, and quickly explained how the Dawnsmen might free their friend and flee the dragon's wrath. They sprung into motion, uniting their amulets in purpose to un-pause Rael in time as if they had always known how. Mielle took flight toward Ratchet with a very confused but un-frozen Rael in tow as Bast and Iro raced behind on foot.

Event success!

Major NPCs to remember:

Bronze Mask (Barros)

Recruited the Dawnsmen for help, seems to be in a semi-antagonistic relationship with other Bronze flight members

Cherinormi

Bronze Flight member in charge of monitoring timeline branching activity. Has a serious vendetta against Rael.

Commander Vitaria and squad

Illidari squad stationed on Darnassus at the eve of its burning. Are they still alive?

Outstanding Issues:

The wrath of Cherinormi

The Council Meeting

"One week Later" Recruitment drive

#roleplay #rp summary #timeboi

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etherian-affairs · 5 years ago

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Rescue Mission

The continued Etherian adventures of Mirak and the Horde United.

OC Story but Perfuma is here this time.

Mirak was angry. Very angry. The sort of anger only her people could know. At least presumably. Lesser species could get angry but Mirak was relatively certain that like all other emotions they felt it was a less impressive form of anger. Second Officer Cass sat nearby, watching the seven foot tall death dealer pace in their little hidey hole. Mirak was growling and cursing under her breath. A thousand combat scenarios playing through her honed mind.

They had lost Tim.

Well Tim had been captured. By Princesses no less! Flower princesses! Couldn't they tell his emblem was white and not red?! Ridiculous! Rude even! Now Tim was probably being tortured for information he doesn't have! Unacceptable! Tim belongs to Mirak! He is HER Lizard Man! Only she gets to torture him!

She has to pause to hold her breather to her mouth and take a few clean breathes. After so many without it the air really begins to hurt.

Lavender eyes, ablaze with rage, shoot to Cass, who leans back in a notably wary fashion. "Yeah?..." The human asks. Her own brown eyes showing the slightest hint of fear, her pulse visible on her neck.

"We're getting Tim back. Tonight!" Mirak declares!

"O-okay... How though... Last we saw they were taking him back to Plumeria... Like the actual... Town? City? Autonomous collective?" Cass momentarily confuses herself and honestly Mirak has no idea what Plumeria was either from a technical standpoint.

"kingdom!" She hisses out anyway. "and it doesn't matter! We're getting Tim! We'll infiltrate!" Yes! That was a good plan. A stealth mission. Mirak had much experience in those. In getting in and out of places she should not be in. Of removing people in those places from existence.

"... Um..." Cass begins. "Okay but... and I mean this respectfully. You're a seven foot tall bat creature that looks like Lord Hordak." She points out.

That was a potential problem at first glance. In space this was usually solved with her sleek black stealth armor and bad lighting but on Etheria all she has is her cobbled together gear and ridiculously good cinematic lighting. Luckily Mirak has thought this through! She had run the scenarios! Her brain was honed for these sorts of things by decades of training and indoctrination and even a fair bit of eugenic breeding and cybernetic engineering.

Mirak pushes away the little voice in her head telling her that she needs both physical and psychological maintenance very badly. Preferably before her unstable psyche and modified body suffer breakdowns. There is a mission to finish.

So instead her lavender fangs glint in the low light of the small hideout. "Don't worry little Cass, Lady Mirak has a plan."

Cass's complexion goes pale.

...

It was a good plan, Mirak's plan. Her plans are often good. This was of course due to the fact that she thinks of them. Currently the defacto leader of the Horde United was skulking in the trees at the edge of Plumeria. The sun was almost done setting and her goggles could be off for a change, letting her eyes be free!

The fact said eyes give off a very visible lavender glow was of no concern to Mirak. People tend to not notice that until it is too late for them.

Cass had been sent on her daring infiltration mission so now Mirak needed only to wait for the signal.

It was simple, elegant. Cass would head into Plumeria posing as a simple traveler and ask for a place to stay the night. Then when the pitiful sleepy Etherian natives found themselves too tired to stay awake Cass would go search Plumeria for Tim's location. Upon locating Tim she would signal for Mirak by making a specific series of clanking sounds with some pans in her gear which Mirak's superior ears would of course pick up without issue.

Then phase two would begin, Mirak would light Plumeria on fire and they would get Tim. Simple and elegant, as previously said. Efficient too.

'When in doubt, burn it all down' as her old academy instructors would say.

Mirak waits in the shadows for what must be hours. The sun goes down. Music picks up in Plumeria. They're not sleeping... This is a problem.

Etherians are weak sleepy things! They should be sleeping!

A change of plan is required. That's alright, no plan ever survives contact with the enemy after all. Mirak shifts in place, readying the makeshift flamer she had cobbled together. It's an objectively dangerous device, made out of a stun baton, a scavenged pump, and skiff fuel. It looks liable to blow up if used. She will use it to ignite the immediate area, drawing the Plumerians out to fight the fire. Then she will light them on fire as well.

Fortunately before she can unleash her righteous fury upon the Princesses and their evil trees, or just blow herself up with her makeshift flamer, Mirak's sensitive ears and night honed eyes pick out someone approaching! An Etherian woman! Tallish for them. Blonde. Flowers in her hair.

Disgusting.

"Hello?" Said Etherian woman speaks up, foolishly making herself known to anyone who might not have already detected her! "Um... I was told a Mirak would be waiting out here?"

A Mirak?! The only Mirak here is Mirak herself. This could only mean one thing... They got Cass, and are so effective at plant based torture that she immediately gave up the details of the plan! Of course she did, Cass is a little pathetic thing. Cute but not nearly as capable as Mirak or Tim.

Improvise Mirak! Improvise!

Mirak returns the flamer to her back and reaches for her hip to pull her spare stun baton up. Firing a ranged blast will alert anyone else searching. She can't run on her bad legs but if she waits her long stride should let her close on this pathetic search party of one quickly enough and eliminate her relatively quietly. The Etherian doesn't seem to have any weapons after all. A strange oversight.

"I was told by Tim and Cass you were out here? Waiting to rescue Tim? My name is Perfuma and I wanted to invite you in to Plumeria, and apologize for the misunderstanding."

Mirak hesitates! A new development?! No... It must be a trick...

Suddenly the alien warrior surges out of the brush as fast as her poorly constructed legs can take her, raising her baton and snarling. Perfuma looks stunned, eyes wide, freezing in place. No doubt the terrifying visage of one from the same species as Lord Hordak charging causes a moment of panic.

Then suddenly.

"Oh there she is." It's Tim! That's Tim's voice! Coming from her left flank!

Mirak doesn't stop her charge however! She can eliminate this princess then talk to Tim!

Unfortunately a vine that definitely was not there a moment ago trips Mirak and she tumbles over.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Tim told me you would try to kill me and that I should trip you because you have terrible feet made of scrap metal." The Perfuma creature sounds apologetic. A clever ruse. "oh my you are quite frightening though..."

More important than whatever Perfuma is saying is that Tim is a traitor. Mirak looks over to him from her place on the ground. Gauging if she can get a shot off on him and get up at the same time. He's standing in his armor, a ring of flowers on his head. He waves with one hand, biting into a fruit with the other. "Hey Mirak. I told them what was actually going on and they let me go. I knew you'd come to get me so... I've just been waiting."

"We do apologise. We did not realize the significance of his emblem being white instead of red."

Mirak looks back and forth between them before she slowly stands up. Deciding not to shoot Tim. "How can I be sure this is not some elaborate ruse?" Mirak asks with suspicion.

Perfuma's eyes are wide again, staring up at the creature before her. Mirak could probably lunge and get a bite in on that long neck before Perfuma could do any more plant trickery.

At least if she didn't have her breather on.

"It's not!" Suddenly Cass! She's approaching too! Way to go Cass, big help you were. "They're having a party and Tim was just hanging out there. Really worked out for us!"

There is a tense moment as Mirak hmms and thinks this through. Then she deactivates her baton and holsters it. "So you were not tortured Tim?"

"Not at all."

"Not even a little?"

"Not even really weak torture."

Mirak's brow furrows. Strange. They had him for hours. Mirak would have started torturing immediately!

Perfuma finally seems to regain her composure. "Um... If you promise to remain nonviolent we would be happy to welcome you to Plumeria. You are fellow rebels after all." She smiles.

Mirak looks at her two compatriots who are nodding enthusiastically.

"Very well. We shall see what sort of hospitality Princesses can give us!" Mirak Huffs! She's heard her old Madame Huff before and it feels right!

Perfuma claps her hands together. "Wonderful! I am sure everyone will be interested in seeing you as well. The children will love your ears!"

"What?" Mirak stares dumbfounded. Tim and Cass both snicker.

...

It's not a bad night. Mirak gets to terrify some people. There's music and some dancing. Mirak acquires a cool piece of wood to use for a future maker project. Also she learns that apparently she qualifies as a 'maker' and should apply for the makers guild.

Mirak will probably not be doing that.

Also there's fruit. She's not huge on fruit, preferring meat and blood, but it's okay. It's food. Tim and Cass seem quite happy about it.

Maybe Princesses aren't all bad. Some definitely can remain un-cremated.

For now.

#my writing #my OCs #she ra OCs #mirak #lizard man tim #horde soldier cass #mirak's etherian adventures #perfuma

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