#Valkyrie transport

[trafalgarlogy]

THE KING'S WOMAN QIN SHI HUANG X FEM!READER

CHAPTER 2 !

WARNINGS FOR THE UPCOMING CHAPTERS!: GORE, MASS KILLING, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOUR, YANDERE-ISH, BETRAYAL, LOVE TRIANGLE

THIRD PERSON POV

In a heavy crowd, passed three noble men, people gave them respect by greeting them but deep down everyone curious about one man among them who looked oddly feminine and smaller in height compared to the others..

but it didn't change the fact that young ladies passing by could get off their eyes off this young man whose (h/c) flowed with the wind and his beautiful (e/c) eyes sparkled in confidence walking towards the direction of the restaurant.

later entering the restaurant, the three men sat down on an empty table placing their swords beside the cushions they sat on, as one of them spoke, who appeared to be an old man who was supposedly in his 80s, "What a tiring day...." he sighed, " Master, is there something troubling you ?" the young man asked who was sitting at the left of the table. "it's nothing you should worry about, Jing Er, I'd suggest you practice more" said the old man, "Grandfather, I think you are going way too hard on senior " said the (h/c)-ette, " You won't understand it (Name), he is the young man who I entrust on carrying my legacy" he said looking at (Name), who was lowered her head in disappointment, "Grandfather, why don't you let me do it? why do you never give me chance to fight by your side......." she said in a sad tone in her voice, "(Name)....you're the only descendant of our clan...if anything happens to you then who will carry our clan's pride?" the old man confronted his granddaughter while the waiter served their drinks, "(Name), please try to understand it for the best of you" as he placed his hands on her palm, "I understand it grandfather but I also have a dream father, I want to bring peace in this world with my strength and prove the society wrong-", "and show them that women can do great things, I support it (Name), you have a beautiful dream but your a young lady, who has weak body if you get deeply injured there is a high possibility you die..." he continued on grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring it in his cup, "Grandfather, I-" (Name) argued, "Enough, no further discussion should be made", he said raising his voice as he sipped the wine.

"yes, grandfather....." (Name) nodded lowering her head once again, both Jing Ke and (Name)'s grandfather drank in silence as the whispers from the table beside theirs came into their ears...

"Do you know recently there have been rumors spreading around the King of Qin..."

"Oh Really? what is it...."

"They say he is not the biological son of King Zhuangxiang....."

"Wha-What?!....are these people crazy?.... The King of Qin will cut their tongues, or maybe something worse"

"yeah, I agree...I have heard the King of Qin is a total monster...."

as the conversation went on, (G/f/n) sighed as he finished his fifth cup, placing down the cup; taking his sword he got up, "let's get going..." he commanded, Jing Ke and (Name) nodded and got up without saying a word, paying up the money in the counter, the waiter bowed "thank you for coming! please come again!", the three of them walked out of the restaurant.

SCENE SKIP !

as the sun shined brightly, the guards cheered up for their king who was targeting its prey, a deer, the commander of their troop, Li Zhong said " this species of deer is quite rare and the demand for its skin in the market has raised, Dianxia*, you are certainly lucky" praised the king, who let go the arrow from a distance. As the arrow hit the deer, it struggled a bit and then collapsed dead on the field; guards clapped and praised his highness. The king smirked a bit and walked toward the dead corpse of the deer, he kneeled down placing his hand on its body and caressing its fur, " Li Zhong," he commanded, "Dianxia" he replied placing his hands in front his sword in middle of his hands, "take this deer away" he said proudly

*Dianxia means your highness in Chinese. I couldn't find the word that they used to call and greet Ying Zheng in the drama so yup-

the happiness didn't seem to last long as the messenger came running and bowed down, "Greeting, Dianxia, Ying Zheng, my apologies but you can't take it away"

"The king does not like to be disturbed during hunting.", said Li Zhong looking down on the messenger, "What's the matter?.", "Dianxia, there's a rule here at the Xishan hunting site, which states that anyone who gets any prey here....", "must give it to Marquess Changxin"

hearing the words Ying Zheng paused when he was caressing the fur as the guards insulted and spat on the messenger,

"Absurd! ",

"Dianxia, himself caught this wild deer.."

"Is Marquess Changxin more powerful than our king?", Li Zhong argued, hearing those words Ying Zheng's smiling face took no second to change into a face displaying annoyance

"How dare a servant like you dare offend, Dianxia" Li Zhong continued on, "QUICKLY APOLOGIZE TO THE KING" he yelled in anger. " I didn't intend to offend our king, I only act according to the rules.." the messenger said lowering his head, "The rules are set by the Empress Dowager Zhao", silence spread among the guards upon hearing the name of Lady Zhao who was known as the Empress Dowager Zhao, for she was a highly respected woman in the kingdom alongside Grand Empress Dowager Huayang.

"His majesty may decide this.." he ended his sentence. Ying Zheng just smiled it off and later got up slowly, " I might like to hunt for fun, but capturing the prey is not my pleasure." said raising his head up and looking at the blue sky, " Since there's the rule, I'll give Marquess Changxin, this deer" he continued putting his arms behind,

"Li Zhong!", "Dianxia!", "Let's get back to the palace" Ying Zheng commanded.

TIME SKIP

walking through the long corridors, two guards escorted Ying Zheng and his step-brother, Cheng Jiao.

Finally reaching the room of his mother, Empress Dowager Zhao, he intsructed the guards to not announce his arrival. Ying Zheng held the handles of the door and slowly opened it without making any noise; Ying Zheng and Cheng Jiao walked in quietly inside the room as they see Empress Dowager and a strange man giggle as they lie on the throne.

The man played with her hair, this view indeed disgusted Ying Zheng as he lightly cough to get his mother's attention, who flinched alongside the man; he quickly got up and walked to the side of throne bowing down as the Empress Dowager made herself seated properly and fixing her clothes.

as there was only awkward silence in the room, Ying Zheng broke the silence, "Greeting, mother" as he lowered his head, "Greetings, Taihou*" Cheng Jiao greeted along with his older brother

*Taihou means Empress Dowager

"guards, why didn't you inform me that the king is here?." she growled, "I told them no to.", Ying Zheng raised his head, hearing the answer Madam Zhao sighed as she complained " ah, I'm having a slight headache.." placing her hand on her head, "So, I asked Lao Ai to give a massage.", "That's right, Dianxia" Lao Ai stepped forward.

Ying Zheng stared blankly at the man, as Madam Zhao spoke, "Is there anything, that you would like to tell me?.", turning his gaze towards his mother he replied "Mother, everything is ready for the coming-of-age ceremony.", "I'll go to Yong City in a few days, Cheng Jiao will go along as well" he continued. "Great.", "You've been waiting for this ceremony, I'm really happy for you" Madam Zhao smiled at her son, "You're late father will be very pleased...to see your younger brother supporting you in the ceremony", as Cheng Jiao smiled brightly hearing it.

"Seeing Marquess Changxin here...reminds me of something." Ying Zheng said glaring at Lao Ai aka Marquess Changxin, "this morning when I went hunting in Xishan. I caught a deer", Lao Ai raised his head a bit as Ying Zheng was talking," Only then I got to know, you take charge of everything in the palace, the horses and the hunting field." Lao Ai turned his head towards the Empress Dowager, making slight eye contact with her.

His mother smiled gently turning her head towards Ying Zheng, "Lao Ai, is a detailed person. Dianxia is always busy with state affairs. So, I assigned these tasks to him hoping I could share your troubles as well."

"Since Dianxia likes the deer, I'll order the servants to return it." Lao Ai said confidently. Ying Zheng just smiled a bit, "You don't have to. This deer is beautiful, and Mother rarely comes to the Palace.", "Since mother you're here, I'll give this deer to you as a gift" announced it proudly as she continued on to smile, "Thank You for the gracious gift, Dianxia" Lao Ai thanked him, getting off Ying Zheng's smile from his face.

"So mother, I shall now leave." Ying Zheng bowed as well as Cheng Jiao. Both of them exited the room silently leaving Lao Ai and Empress Dowager alone again.

when Ying Zheng got out he stormed into the hallways, as a vein popped up on his head.

"They acted so shamelessly!, I can't even find any other words to describe them!" Ying Zheng complained, "Brother! why should you be so angry with a mere official like him?" Cheng Jiao looked up at him, " Lao Ai is a crude man from the southern city. He is favored by Empress Dowager, your mother; that's why he is being so arrogant and discreet." he rolled his eyes. " People say Lao Ai is not a real eunuch. He accompanies mother and that they're in a relationship" Ying Zheng turned his head to his brother, "Do you believe it?"

"What if it is true?..." Cheng Jiao replied, "If the news Lao Ai being punished spreads out, the Empress Dowager's reputation will be highly damaged." he continued on. Both the brother stood silence

"Since when did mother care about her reputation...." Ying Zheng spoke in annoyance leaving Cheng Jiao speechless.

Cheng Jiao sighed and moved forward to Ying Zheng's ear, " Brother, now your goal is to go against the chancellor.", "Why should you worry about the harem?" He whispered. " That Chancellor and mother restrain each other. We'll need to start from the harem to get rid of those traitors." Ying Zheng said, as footsteps approached from a distance to reveal Li Zhong, Li Zhong bowed "Greetings, Dianxia", "Dianxia, I've managed the wild deer that was hunted at Xishan as per your orders."

Ying Zheng smirked in satisfaction, "Very well then"

TIME SKIP

In Empress Dowager Zhao's Chamber(The Next Morning)...

Both Madam Zhao and Lao Ai rested on the bed, sleeping peacefully and silently. As the sun ray hit Madam Zhao's face, opening her deep black eyes to get up, removing her slender hands from her lover's chest, she discovered her palm to be covered in blood

making a shiver run through her spine, and her body turned cold in fear.....she screamed in horror making Lao Ai who was sleeping as well wake up, discovering his vest having a huge blood stain making them both jump in panic, they looked around to find any other blood stains, and removing their bed sheets, their faces turned pale in horror as both screamed seeing a dead deer's head on their bed. Blood was everywhere around the sheets. Lao Ai quickly held its horns and threw the head on the dark wooden floor of the room, taking Madam Zhao into his arms both looked at it with their eyes reflecting fear.

SCENE SKIP!

In the dark night, the three of them rode their horses rushing somewhere, days passed by they rode continuously finally reaching their destination to find the person they have been looking for, Ge Nie the infamous warrior of Qin, who quit had to serve as Qin's warrior.

the reason for him to quit to serve Qin was, he didn't want to be under Lu Bu Wei's control, who was a corrupted chancellor who was always hungry for power.

rushing to the scene to see a little girl getting thrown aggressively as she cried for her mother, (Name) ran to catch the little girl; getting hold of her and helping her stand back, running to pull out her sword at the scene to attack the bad guys, she was stopped by her old man, as his eyes widen to see the flexible moves of a strange man fighting them taking them down one by one with ease, "G...Ge...Nie..." the old man stuttered, as the little girl ran to her mother crying into her arm, going inside their house. "So are you waiting for me to take your life?" the man said glaring coldly at the men lying wounded on the ground, who trembled in fear; for the sake of their lives, they quickly got up and ran away as fast they can. "Are you....Ge Nie, the warrior?" (Name) as out of curiosity, getting Ge Nie's attention, "I'm Wei (Name), and my grandfather Wei (G/f/n), is the commander of Puyang in Wey"," We had walked hundreds of miles just to come and meet you" (Name) said with a smile

as He turned around to be greeted by the three bowing down to him. "Sir. I've seen your letter at the residence of the Chancellor of Wey, and found out you'll be leaving Qin today." (G/f/n) said showing respect towards the other old man. "Hearing this, we rushed over here just to personally express our wish...for you to serve the six states." "You've flattered me." said Ge Nie who sighed in disappointment," I'm just a mediocre and unambitious old man", "I'm not competent to serve the Six States" he continued leaving nothing but awkward silence at the end of his sentence. "Sir, this is important for all of us in the Six States," said (Name) on her grandfather's behalf, "Qin wants to conquer all the states regardless of the nations; all of us know you're a citizen of Qin but even after that you don't share the same path as others...You're a martial warrior, you are known worldwide as the world's best sword warrior" "If you can resist Qin with us, you'll surely inspire others", said (Name)" ah, the nickname..' world's best sword warrior" is purely a rumor, Don't mention it".

"Mr. Wei. Since we have now met here: why not try to stop me from out of tow, I'll listen to you if you're successful.", "But...if you fail to do so, then please go back," Ge Nie said walking slowly towards (G/f/n) as the wind blew. (Name) and Jing Ke got aside when (G/f/n) commanded them to do so making enough space for a duel. the two men glared at each other coldly as the silence spread in their surroundings. Ge Nie surprisingly passed by the old man, making him annoyed. They both walked towards the exit standing quietly. until (G/f/n) took a chance to strike when Ge Nie wasn't looking but coming to his surprise Ge Nie blocked his first attack and shifted his sword aside. This kept going on till (G/f/n) couldn't take it anymore and pulled his sword out, and ran towards Ge Nie; Ge Nie took no second to take out his sword behind his cape. and running towards him, the two of them fought to destroy most of the abandoned stalls in the surroundings and tore the clothes of the villagers that were hanging, in a blink of an eye.

Ge Nie gave a final strike to (G/f/n) sending him flying back. (G/f/n) coughed a little as he wasn't too weak to even cough out blood in just a blow. (G/f/n) stood up with a face of disappointment. "You're indeed, the world's best sword warrior, I admit defeat." said (G/f/n) lowering his head, "I've never wanted to get involved in the state affairs, But. Since we met today, there's something I want to tell you.", " I saw the general and the troops went out of the city on my way here.", "this time. If Qin wants to conquer Wey, the king of Wey would offer Puyang as self-protection.", making (Name)'s eyes widen as she covered her mouth with her hands, (G/f/n) and Jing Ke looked at each other in shock," We shall meet again someday" said Ge Nie, turning his back and leaving the village.

all that he left was a piece of worrisome news, cause after all it was their hometown, Puyang, on the line, where they grew up and spent memories of childhood. How could they let Qin conquer their precious home?

To be continued.....

NOTES !: i. totally not the author just rewatching the entire first episode just for the goddamn dialogue ii. the fact I forgot to mention at the start, this story has love triangles over love triangles, is just fucked up. iii. this chapter is long cause mf the start had nothing, like NOTHING

[valkyrieappreciationweek]

Less than 7 weeks until Valkyrie Appreciation Week

Who doesn’t love a good Alternate Universe (AU) fic, artwork, or moodboard? We love seeing the Valkyries transported to different fictional universes or imagining what they’d be getting up to in our own world.

This fun piece from @bookishkoda shows the Valkyries getting ready to take on the Eras Tour, dressed impeccably as their favorite eras

For our Swifties, do you agree with the eras picked for each? Are there any other artists or bands you think the Valkyries would be dying to go see?

[snarp]

I guess this is what makes Malenia a "valkyrie": she's responsible for transporting a "hero's" soul. Y'know, Radahn's. Let's ask her how she feels about that.

So, if she Rotted his brain specifically as a means of transporting his soul from his body to the site of the Church of the Bud: was he already dying? Of something other than Rot?

In combination with the obsession with gravity magic; Leonard, The Horse That Is In Hell; the paraplegic albinaurics riding animals to get around; and the DLC's firm reminder in the form of Radahn's paraplegic boar-riding friend who died wearing shit designed to mock his disability...

...I think we're supposed to recognize that Radahn had been paralyzed for a long time by the battle of Caelid, and trying very hard to hide it.

Assuming that Marika and Radagon's kids never get normal-ass nerve damage, that basically has to mean Deathblight.

[nonndrawz]

This is the last interesting detail I found!!! So the chair that we see in the opening of the GOW: Ragnarök Valhalla DLC trailer is actually the same chair in the Council of Valkyries location!!! In case you don't know, in GOW 2018 you fight corrupted Vallyires and after defeating them you put their helmets on their assigned chairs. So it's awesome to see an homage to the Valkyries, especially since they yell "Valhalla!" when you fight them and they're meant to help transport souls to Valhalla.

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 46: Lokabrenna

Summary: Loki makes an escape with you.

Word Count: 1,482

Author's Notes: We are back. 6 chapters to go and I'm going to do my best to keep to the once-a-week schedule.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Bruce Banner was a perfectly tolerable person to be around, probably. Loki could recognize this in an objective sense. He was polite, deferential even. Quite intelligent. He had a decent sense of humor, in a quiet sort of way. Easily the most amiable Avenger to have in one's company. Loki also knew, logically, that Bruce Banner and the Hulk were two separate entities that merely shared a common point of origin, on occasion. Still, despite all of this, when Loki was in the presence of the mild-mannered scientist he could think of little else aside from the marble floor of Stark's penthouse, and the sound it made as Loki passed through it.

As Bruce had stepped off the quinjet Valkyrie greeted him with a grin and a punch to the arm. "Hey, big guy." He responded with a nervous smile while rubbing his arm. "Hey." Before he had a chance to recover, Thor had swung in with one of his exuberant hugs. "Banner! Welcome back to New Asgard!" "Yeah, thanks, good to be here." Banner met Loki next and extended a hand. "Hey Loki, are you... uh, how are you?" The man seemed to be uncertain even of the question he was asking. Loki shook his hand, pleased that it seemed the discomfort wasn't entirely his to bear. "I'm well, Dr. Banner. And you?"

Loki had been made aware that Banner had played a key role in the Asgardians' escape from Ragnarok, and then Thanos after that. This explained the warm welcome he had received from the citizens of New Asgard. It did not explain the strange closeness he shared with the Valkyrie. It was Loki's understanding that she had sold the Hulk into slavery on Sakaar, yet they seemed to be on very friendly terms. There must be more to that story, but Loki considered that he may not want to know. Then again, she had also sold Thor into slavery and now she was essentially his advisor and lieutenant. Perhaps she was simply very gifted in making amends.

Part of the agreement that allowed the Æsir to settle here on Earth involved certain aspects of trade. They would be given a place to make their home, and in return the Asgardians would share their knowledge and technology with carefully-chosen human parties. Additionally, in exchange for allowing New Asgard to be built here specifically, several benefits of Stark Industries were being extended to the mortal town. Banner was here to oversee progress and move forward with these trades.

Blessedly, this meant that Loki's presence was not needed, as most of Banner's interactions were with the Æsir engineers and human officials. And so it was not much of an issue that Loki had somewhere else to be, and he quietly excused himself and slipped away from the clamor.

You had suggested another hike to spend the night on the mountain and Loki jumped at the opportunity. He hadn't told you of the dream he had when he was away at the compound, but the images from it had lingered in his mind. It was something he longed to recapture. You had invited Thor, but he declined, citing all the work that needed to be done. Loki had never been so grateful to his brother.

As he approached your cabin you were on the porch, laying out supplies that you would likely be asking Loki to transport. You straightened and smiled. "What took you so long?" "I beg your pardon." He leaned in to plant a quick kiss. "We received Bruce Banner along with a number of his apprentices today. I had to perform certain duties before I could diplomatically extricate myself." Your eyes lit up. "Bruce Banner? Bruce Banner is here?" Loki raised a brow. "Yes. He's here to learn of our technology and to grant us some of his." "Why didn't you tell me?" You turned your head toward New Asgard, peering down the road, as if you could see him from here. "Why is it of such keen interest?" "It's Bruce Banner! A world-renown scientist! The Hulk!" You eyes were still fixed down the road. Loki frowned. "Need I remind you that you dine with gods on a regular basis?" You waved dismissively. "Exactly, you're old news." He narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't test me today, little bird. Soon we will be isolated on a mountaintop, alone in the darkness, far from help." He pulled you in close. "I'll have you completely at my mercy." You bit your lip and grinned with a new excitement in your eyes. "You promise?" He chuckled, his nose grazing yours. "I would say I should teach you a lesson but something tells me you would be too willing a student."

You laughed as he released you, then turned back to the provisions you were organizing. "How long is Banner here?" "A few days, at least." "Great, we can have him for dinner tomorrow." He sighed. "Must we?" You smirked. "Aw, are you still sore from that time he beat you up?" You offered him a mocking pout. "Show me where it hurts." Loki sulked. "My pride, mostly." "Well, that's ideal. You've got plenty of that to spare." You straightened and swung a pack over your shoulder. "No reason why we can't be social." Loki folded his arms and leaned against the post of your porch. "Perhaps I simply prefer not to?" "Oh, don't worry." The mocking tone had returned to your voice. "It's just a little dinner. I promise I won't let the big scary monster get you." Loki glared. "One day, you will reach the edge of my patience." You grinned. "Not today? I'll keep looking for it." You gave him a conciliatory peck on the cheek. "Now magic up these supplies so we can hit the trail." "Your mortal frailty is the only reason I tolerate this treatment." Loki begrudgingly waved a hand and vanished the items, then followed you down the road to the trailhead.

The climb felt different this time. It felt almost clandestine with just the two of you. As if Loki was sneaking away from all of his troubles. Like you were leading him to a paradise where they didn't exist. The hike was easy, with light spirits and laughter.

You grew quiet as you reached the end, and stopped altogether before stepping out onto the terrace. You stood for a moment, looking out onto the outcrop, and it occurred to Loki that this would almost certainly be your first time here without Ash. He reached down and to your hand in his. After a moment you sighed, squeezed his hand, and managed a slight smile as you looked up at him. "Come on, let's go make camp."

After a brief stop to admire the view, the both of you set to work. You pitched the tent, Loki gathered firewood, though not nearly as much would be needed this time. Spring was waning and the nights were growing warmer. Dinner was cooked and shared, and afterward Loki found himself seated on the ground, his back against a boulder near the fire. You were stretched in front of him, with your back to his chest, your head resting back against him. His arms wrapped around you and in turn your arms held his. The two of you gazed out over the landscape, which was bathed in gold and shadow as the sun began its descent. A few quiet words were shared but it seemed agreed upon that this moment was meant to simply be absorbed.

Sequestered away here with you, this was exactly the peace Loki had craved. He wanted to tell you about his dream. He wanted you to know that for him the majesty of this place was intrinsically tied to you, so much so that when he was longing for you this is where his mind brought him in his sleep. It felt like something you should know.

Before he could find where to start, you raised a hand toward the horizon. "Hey look, your star is out." The sun had begun its retreat in earnest, and the first stars were making their appearances. Just above the horizon was the one you were pointing out. "Our star." He corrected. You turned your face toward him, a brow raised. "Our star?" He nodded. "You told me it was named 'Lokabrenna', correct? My burning?" You looked back to the horizon, as if the star could explain. "Yes, that's right." "Then it is our star." He assured, leaning forward to graze his lips against the shell of your ear. "For I burn for you." You turned to him again with a wild affection in your eyes, which he could only appreciate for a moment before you pulled him to you and kissed him with a fervor that was unexpected but immediately reciprocated.

Loki felt the rise of familiar flames.

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[heraxic]

re8 as classical music

badly explained cause its 2am and i dont know musical terms.

Btw if anyone has any notes or other songs that would fit them id love to see it-

Ethan: Tchaikovsky - Marche Slave

Slow start, Ethan is unknowingly ensnared in a trap. As he realizes the danger Rose (and himself) are in the song becomes tragic and determined. Fastpaced strings, frantic beats —like prey escaping from predator— keeps escalating into something more and more insurmountable. A hopeful jingle is heard as Ethan finds out he can still save his daughter. A heroic theme plays as he overcomes the horrors despite it all (a sense of control over the situation is marked by highpitched anxious flutes superimposed by a deep stable horn). Then comes the first faceoff with Miranda who taunts him and Ethan’s tragic hero theme comes to a grinding halt as his heart gets pulled out of his chest. The drums pick up again and the little soldier is off to his final battle.

Mia: Claude Debussy - Clair De Lune

Sadly the real Mia doesn’t appear much. In the Winters home, Ethan writes that Mia doesn’t want to talk about what they went through in Louisiana, which leaves him with a lot of questions unanswered. In the flashback where she desperately tries reaching out saying ‘𝘺𝘰𝘶 matter’, she still can’t help keeping secrets- maybe out of fear that Ethan wouldn’t let it go (being extremely persistent) and they’d never return to normal. The song is heartbreaking and sad as she struggles coming to terms with the guilt and grief over what she’s done and what the one she loves went through because of it. On a last somber note, her child, who takes after her father both in looks and unresolved powers, is all she has left.

Rose: Saint-Saëns - Le Cygne

A little girl whos only ever known unconditional, all encompassing love. Even before her birth, it was known that her life would be full of uncertainty. Though stolen away for possessing powers she’s not even aware of yet, she continues to live and provide a beacon of hope for her family.

Chris: Richard Wagner - Ride of the Valkyries

Comes in the dead of night and rains hell on the Winters home. In his eyes, he’s doing the right thing, but has made himself the villain to the one he was trying to protect (victorious trumpets superimposed by high fearful strings). The transport gets intercepted by Miranda and the music falls. Once Chris finally explains himself to Ethan they’re allowed a brief bit of victory (steadier horn) as their combined efforts take down Miranda’s last line of defense (Heisenberg). In the end, Chris has to live with the victory of taking down the megamycete, the guilt and grief over Ethan’s death/sacrifice, and the troubling news from BSAA. A tainted victory.

Alcina: Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake

Appears first as a noble elegant socialite. She’s at the height of her power, owns a castle and three daughters and believes herself to be Miranda’s favorite. It’s business as usual, calm serene music. Suddenly an outsider has made his way into her home, killing her daughters one by one. She reaches out to Miranda, who only cares about the stupid ceremony, and realizes everything she knew was a lie. Anger and frustration builds. The music deepens, falls and rises again as she transforms, tries taking revenge on Ethan and fails, having lost everything in one evening.

Bela, Cassandra, Daniela: Rimsky Korsakov - Flight of the Bumblebee

Self explanatory. Hurried, manic and playful.

Donna: Tchaikovsky - Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

Entrancing but with eerie insidious undertones. Fitting for the childlike dollmaker and her little porcelain friends. Ends with a fast and chilling theme for the twisted game of hide and seek

Moreau: Edvard Grieg - Hall of the Mountain King

Quiet, lumbering and slow. Ethan takes the Rose flask back easily; threatened with losing Mother Miranda it very quickly escalates as panic sets in and Moreau throws everything he has at him. The music swells and ends with a bang.

Karl: Aram Khachaturian - Masquerade Suite

A bold start. Right from the beginning he exudes arrogance, charisma and danger. He plays nice in front of Miranda with a waltz that picks up in intensity when putting Ethan through his first gauntlet. Then the tone gets deeper and quieter for a moment, as he plots in secret; it’s finally time to set his plan in action. It’s a race to the finish line as Ethan tears through the other lords, unknowingly playing right into Miranda’s plan. Realizing he could be a particularly useful asset/ally, Heisenberg puts him through the second gauntlet. The music is sadistically playful as he tests his will and endurance. Upon failing to recruit Ethan, the music picks up for the third gauntlet and ends with a bang, as Karl dies at the hands of Miranda.

Duke: Georges Bizet - Votre Toast

A friendly face unfitting in a place such as this. The upbeat and energetic theme sticks out like a sore thumb among the others. Whimsy and grandiosity acts as a brilliant facade for his enigmatic true nature. Though the jolly merchant schtick may be a lie, he always delivers on service.

Miranda: Sergei Prokofiev - Dance of the Knights

https://youtu.be/bBsKplb2E6Q?si=jnSpMO-bIhEcjJzb

Immediately imposes a sense of authority and dread. The dark theme plays over and over as she performs the same cruel experiments expecting different results, though it only succeeds in remowing her further from humanity. She imagines a world of pure bliss in acquiring her child, which at this point is as illusory as chasing the holy grail since she’s never satisfied. When she hears of Rose she schemes her way into the Winters home, elated to find the perfect vessel after a century of searching. She steals the child away, leaving behind a trail of destruction that finally catches up to her.

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // fifty-two

| @rollingsim | @catamano | @keibea | @maladi777 | @poisonedsimmer | @amuhav | @sani-sims | @mangopysims | @izayoiri | @thesimperiuscurse

next / previous / beginning

THERION: What do you mean “King”? ELION: Yes, pray tell, what do you mean? TAYUIN: Why should we discuss anything in front of you? Can’t you wait outside? KYRIE: Tay… ELION: Rest assured, Prince of Faeries, I’ve no love in my heart for the Church. I won’t betray you to the clergy. I’m just here to keep your sainted priest safe and sound. KYRIE: He’s true to his word. At least, he’s kept it thus far. EIRA: What happened to your respect for authority? ELION: Darling, the only authority I’m interested in is in this room. EIRA: You really need to evaluate your priorities. KYRIE: Enough. Can we please focus? Lord Tev’us, care to explain? TAYUIN: I wouldn’t. We have no idea who this guy is. SARAYN: And why should I care either way? As far as I can tell, no one is trying to murder us. To these so-called vigilantes, the Chosen Ten must look like helpless victims drafted into a merciless battleground. If they’d like to bring the fight to our front, I am more than happy to accept the challenge. EVE: Let’s not be unreasonable. I’m sure most of us here would prefer to avoid violence. At least we should all be fully aware of all the stakes. So, if you will, please proceed. Let’s put everything out on the table here and now. SARAYN: Very well. It’s no secret. When the Valkyrie and I were transported into the past— thanks to your charming display of self-control— EVE: That’s so unnecessary! ASTER: If this whole magic tradition thing falls through, we ten would excel as a theater troupe! KYRIE: Lord Tev’us, do continue. SARAYN: We were witness to, what I assume to be, some sort of cover-up. One of the Chosen murdered by elves of the royal guard. KYRIE: Are you certain this is what you saw? SARAYN: Without question. ÅSE: Deathling is not wrong. It was all very confusing. Though, it seemed that all were familiar. They knew each other. Still, they killed him all the same… SARAYN: Before he was slain, the elf, Castien Thallan, alluded to having angered his father. The ambush seemed to be the escalation of a particularly long-standing conflict. Either Thallan’s father had substantial pull in the royal sphere, or was one who could command such an attack. Someone like the King. THERION: Killing his bastard and hiding the evidence? That’s low. SARAYN: Perhaps. In any case, the guard made it clear that Castien was not the first.

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Every year, during the Extermination, Valentino and Velvette need to move Vox out of his usual quarters and into a different area of the tower. They do this partially to keep him safe (the windows are unbreakable and one-way, but they’d rather not risk the exorcists somehow finding a way in and him being on his own) and partially because watching tens of thousands of valkyries descending from the sky to slaughter everyone in their path isn’t the most comforting thing for someone in Vox’s condition to see.

It’s always a nightmare to transport him to their bunker, but they’ve had a few years where everything wasn’t completely awful. Once or twice, the three of them have been able to hole up together and actually enjoy themselves, just like old times. It's like hunkering down during a storm (which is what they tell Vox is happening unless it happens to be a day when he remembers what the Extermination is); they watch movies and shoot the shit, just waiting it out and enjoying each other's company as best they can.

[rainyweeds]

Home is where the heart is {Part 1}

Part 0 | Part 1

Pairing: Ao'nung x Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: After finally waking up from cryosleep on Pandora, you quickly realize you're not in the right place. While trying to navigate your location, a certain species of tall aliens take you captive.

Warnings: None for this chapter

A/N: I didn't actually think so many of you guys would want to read this. Anyways I'll have a mini tag list at the end since a few of you guys asked <3 and I'll add you guys to the next part too if you want!

How the hell did you end up here? You were supposed to be in the forest with Grace. This clearly wasn't a forest. The clear body of water surrounded the entire land mass, sandy beaches joining the two together.

There was no way in hell you were in the right place. What even happened while you were asleep? Did Grace know you were alive? Where was the RDA? You began trekking through the wooded area, hoping to find an answer.

The entire island was surrounded by water with no chance of you making it past the reef without drowning. How far were you from the nearest base? You recall Grace once mentioning there were small base units scattered across Pandora. Maybe there was one here?

After remembering all RDA machinery has built in navigators in case of emergencies, you walk back towards the wreckage. The ship was now less than half of its original size. But the question was, how did it even get here? All ISV ships were only supposed to operate in deep space. You were supposed to wake up and be transported on a Valkyrie to the base where you'd meet Grace. So how in the world did the ISV get here?

You entered the ship once again to look for the control panels. Once located, you try to turn them on. But of course, the panel was worn down and rusted. To your dismay, you angrily slam your hands onto the panels. Something you hit must've turned something on because the screen displayed an old recording.

"This is our final log before everything shuts down. The last ship has left and we are hoping this video reaches someone. We need help.

Once the systems shut down, we will have no contact with the RDA headquarters. If anyone gets this, these are our coordinates."

The pilot held up a piece of paper with some numbers on it. Were those coordinates where you ended up? Maybe you could still find everyone else.

"We won't make it. The ones in cryo will. The ship will continue maintaining the people's body temperatures until they either wake up or the ship goes down. But we don't have a chance.

The time is 21:37 and the date is July 15th, 2154. This is Team Beta signing out." The screen goes blank once again."

2154. Two years into your cryo journey. People who underwent cryosleep could stay under for long periods of time and not age. It was scary how long they could remain asleep. But you couldn't have been asleep for more than the six year trip. Right?

You continue to look around what was left of the ship, hoping to find something of use. There were a few extra oxygen masks, an unloaded gun, and a bunch of useless things. You took a spare mask, the gun, and set off into the wooded area of the island. Although you were practically defenceless, the gun could probably act as a threat if you encountered another human.

The jungle was scary to say the least. You continuously looked over your shoulder in case some animal wanted to attack you. And the large roots of the trees cause you to almost roll an ankle. If you could just find a way to leave or contact the other back at the forest, maybe you could make it out alive.

Surprisingly, there weren't many animals on the island, just a few harmless ones wandering around in search of food. And the plants. Oh the plants were more beautiful than any picture you've ever seen. All the vibrant colors seemed to only increase as the hours went on.

Nights on Pandora were known to be dangerous. Grace would always be in the lab at night to protect her and her avatar. But that was in the forest that was probably hundreds if not thousands of miles away. You found shelter under some exposed tree roots, tucking yourself away from the outside.

The sun rose early and the eclipse happened late on Pandora, meaning you had more time to explore your surroundings. You quickly continue your journey to the other side of the island after waking up and realising you were still alive. The hopes of finding other humans being the only thing that kept you going.

The island was huge. Or at least huge for your little human legs because you seemed to be walking for what seemed like forever. The trees finally begin thinning out once you see another strip of beach. This time there were sea creatures swimming around near the shore, splashing about under the sun. You step closer to take a good look at the creatures. They're nothing like any of the creatures you've seen from Grace's research. One of the creatures seems to notice you approach it, swimming closer.

"Hello!" You smile. The cool water now reached your knees as the waves crashed into you. "Can you help me find my way to the forest?" The animal only cocked its head, obviously unable to understand you.

"Who am I kidding, I'm probably going to die soon anyways. This Oxygen mask is only good for a few days. And I only grabbed one extra." You point to the mask tied to your waist.

The creature circles around you as if to examine you. As it does, you notice the handle connecting the two queues together. Someone was riding it. As you reach out to grab the handle, something behind you grabs at your hair and pulls you backwards.

You kick at your captor but with little success. They hold a knife at your neck, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You feel yourself being tied up and pushed forward.

"Olo'eyktan! We found this demon wandering around the ilus." You were harshly shoved forward, causing you to stumble into the sand. Despite the use of their native tongue, you were able to understand the foreign language. Having practiced for years before leaving Earth.

"Skxawng." You mutter. Large hands wrap around your arms, forcing you up to face the na'vi in front of you. The Olo'eyktan. Clan leader. He stood before you, towering over you.

"What is your business here?" He broke the silence.

"I mean no harm. I don't know how I ended up here." You respond with your broken na'vi. It wasn't the best but they seemed to understand you just fine.

"Bring her to the pod. We'll talk later." He waved you off. You were quickly dragged away towards a pod-like room. The warriors threw you into the pod and closed the curtains.

"If you leave, we will have no choice but to kill you."

Great. First you were going to die due to oxygen shortage and now you're going to die by the hands of Pandora's natives. How fun. You sat in the pod, knees brought up to your chest as you thought about how you could have been in the forest by now. Studying plant life with Grace.

You must've dozed off again because the next time you open your eyes, you're tied up again in front of the clan leader and who you can only assume is his mate. The woman steps forward, walking in circles around you, taking in your features.

"Why have you come to us?" She scowled at you.

"I was trying to get to the forest. I don't know how I got here." You watch her grab your hands. Your five fingers look out of place compared to her four.

"Sky people bring nothing but pain to na'vi. We should get rid of it." You were taken aback. More so at the fact that you were just referred to as an 'it' rather than the talk about killing you. You've had too many death scares to be phased at this point.

"I'm telling you. I just want to find Dr. Grace Augustine." You plead. What happened the last time humans came to Pandora to get such a hostile attitude? "I don't mean any harm."

"And who is this 'Grace Augustine." The Olo'eyktan narrowed his eyes at you.

"She's a scientist." You vaguely answer. All you could do was pray to whatever god there was on Pandora that you weren't seen as a threat.

You don't know how you did it, but you managed to make it out of there alive. With the promise to help Ronal, the Tsahik, collect ingredients and run errands, you were able to keep your life. You were brought back to the pod which now doubled as your home to rest. Apparently, there was a family staying on this island that came from the forest. Maybe they could help you.

The salty breeze reminded you of home. How the few remaining beaches would blow the familiar smell into your face. You sighed, stepping out of your pod and walking around the village. The na'vi could only stare at you as you walked by. How could their leader allow a demon to stay?

You found yourself wandering near the shore. The clear water displayed the vast marine life below the surface. One of the creatures from earlier began swimming up to you. An ilu as you learned, was a common mode of transportation among the reef people. Although you could not physically bond with the creature, it seemed to take a liking to you.

"What are you doing with my ilu." You heard a voice coming from behind you. Turning your head, you saw a tall figure. Tattoos covering his arm and face. Despite looking around your age, he towered over you. Sure, he was a completely different species but you liked to think you were tall for a human.

"Sorry it just swam up to me." You move away from the sea creature. The male watching you the entire time. Eyeing you up and down at your awkward movements. You reminded him of a baby. Just learning how to walk. "Well I better go!" You sped away from the scene.

After walking a safe distance, you sit down on a patch of grass in the forest behind the village. Nobody seemed to be around so you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Your mask begins fogging up slightly as you take in deep breaths of oxygen. Everything still felt surreal. What if you were really still in cryo and you were on your way to the forest. No. People don't dream in cryo so that can't be it.

You sigh as you head back towards your marui, na'vi clearing the way as you walk by. As you walk past the beach, you see a dark blue na'vi sitting on the sand. Her short blue hair blowing softly in the breeze. She looks like someone you know.

Like Grace.

"Grace?!" You run up to her. The girl turns her head to you as you run up to her. Shock written on her features. "How come you never told me you were here?" You remember seeing Grace's avatar in the background of the calls every now and then. The girl before you had a striking resemblance. But wasn't Grace supposed to be in the forest?

"How do you know my mothers name?" She glares at you.

The color drains from your face. Grace had a kid? How come you never knew about her? Were you really asleep for that long?

"I'm sorry- you just look like someone I know." You shake your head. There was no way this na'vi was related to Grace. No way in hell. You turn around and walk away, embarrassment evident of your heated cheeks.

"Wait!" She grabs your hand. "How do you know Grace?"

"My mother used to work with her. I was supposed to join her in the forest and research plants with her." You explain. The girl in front of you begins to pull you away as you continue explaining your situation. Soon enough, you find yourself in front of a pod.

"Come." She leads you inside.

When you step inside, you see a man sitting on the floor preparing food. A woman sits beside him. "Father. I brought someone." The girl takes a seat next to the man. He looks up at you, yellow eyes scanning your figure. "She says she knows Grace."

Both adults look at you with wide eyes. "Ma Jake." The woman speaks. Jake? As in Jake Sully?

"Kid?" The male, Jake, mumbles.

Jake would always call you 'kid' when he saw you on call. The nickname brought back memories. "Jake?" You look at the man. The more you look at him, the more he looks like the soldier you once knew. The resemblance was uncanny. "What are you doing here? Where's Grace?" You point to the girl.

"What do you mean where's Grace- What year do you think it is?"

"Isn't it supposed to be 2158?" You quickly do the math in your head. If the video you saw back on the ship took place two years after your journey started, then it should be four years later assuming everything still went smoothly. Jake looked at the woman beside him and then back to you. "What?"

"It's 2173... You were asleep for 15 years..."

A/N: Hi! I really hope you liked part 1 of the series! I have been a bit busy so I delayed the update a little bit but here it is! I'm slowly getting a vague idea on where this series is going so stay tuned! The next update might take a little longer since my weekend is looking a little hectic but I will get it up as soon as possible!

Thank you guys so much for reading and have an amazing day/night! <3

To those who wanted to be tagged: @eywas-heir @sunshinewwx @ducks118 @tiredsoulsorry @thecrazyswamp @ambria @lovekeeho @zeroqueen0555

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Record of Ragnarok x Overlord

Reader is Ainz Ooal Gown and is one of the champions

The rules don’t say anything against reincarnations -Brunhilde laughing her ass off at the loophole she is abusing

Due to the unique nature of the reader they no longer have the emotion blocker affecting them once summoned, but they are still a very intimidating skeleton who is asking questions about what the Earth was like for the other champions when they were alive

I’m just imagining the reactions everyone has when Nazerick is cheering their lord on as they absolutely destroy their opponent

This was a fun crossover, but instead of doing a reader Ainz, I just decided to put in Ainz himself!

-Brunnhilde couldn’t keep the grin off of her face, having read over the rules for Ragnarok eight times before she chose her next champion, finding there was no rule against summoning someone like him.

-Suzuki Satoru, AKA Momonga AKA Ainz Ool Gown, Overlord over the Great Tomb of Nazarick, couldn’t believe his eyes eye sockets when he gazed down upon the stadium that would hold the key to humanity’s fate. When he was approached by Brunnhilde, leader of the valkyries, he couldn’t believe that something like this was happening, but he could feel things now, he could feel anger, true anger, as well as fear for humanity, as he had once been human himself.

-The Floor Guardians were granted permission to accompany their lord to this tournament, a few inquired why he was even bothering to save humanity, but before he could answer them, to tell them that he was once a human, Demiurge tilted his head back, “You fools! Don’t you see, once Ainz-sama saves humanity then they will have no choice but to obey him! Absolutely genius Ainz-sama!!”

-Ainz couldn’t find it in himself to argue as the other floor guardians were quick to agree with Demiurge.

-Ainz did however give the order to his guardians to not start any fights and to treat humans like they were treating him, with the upmost respect, as he saw them as equals as they were all fighting for the same cause.

-The other Einherjar were not completely sure of what to make of Ainz, he was a walking, talking skeleton that seemed to radiate power and strength.

-His piercing gaze would intimidate even the bravest of foes, but the image was ruined when he spoke almost like he was a fan, “Nice to meet you Tesla! Your inventions are amazing in my timeline, at least when I was a human! What was the world like when you were alive?”

-His enthusiasm to learn about the world from when they were alive was not what they were expecting, but they humored him, telling him about how things were around the world when they were alive.

-When it came for him to fight, Ainz trolled everyone, showing up wearing the same outfit he wore against the bandits who dared to enter his home and use the names of his friends in vain.

-The audience, gods and humans alike, were stunned and a bit scared to see a skeleton.

-Zeus, furious, looked at Brunnhilde, “What is the meaning of this?! That is not a human!”

-Brunnhilde couldn’t keep the smile from her lips, “He was a human, transported into another world from our own. I’ve checked the rules and there is nothing that says that this cannot be done!”

-The outrage was so great that the match had to be postponed for a bit so both sides could have a meeting about this loophole. They came to an agreement that Ainz would be allowed to fight, but no other entrants, from either side, would be allowed to use this loophole.

-Ainz’s opponent was Chernabog, the Slavic god of bad fate, who immediately saw Ainz as a joke, laughing down at him, seeing him in what looked to be chains, ones like what a slave would wear.

-Albedo was blushing, watching her love fight, her hands to her cheeks, “Oh~ Ainz-sama, show these pathetic weaklings your true power!”

-The fight was back and forth but some felt like Ainz was toying with the dark god until Chernabog managed to punch Ainz, only once, sending head over heels.

-His sword and shield faded and if he had lips, he would be smirking as he removed his ring, hiding his true strength as his robes returned, his arms spread out, “Since you were serious with me, than I shall return the favor!”

-Chernabog lasted about two seconds after the fact, jaws were dropped as silence filled the stadium, other than his Floor Guardians who were all cheering for his victory.

-The humans were scared but they soon were applauding him, as he put another win under the belt of humanity, while the gods were in awe of his power.

-Zeus and Odin had contemplated approaching him about making him a god, as his power would be unstoppable.

-Ainz refused their offer, “I will stay to see this tournament through, but after I am returning to Nazarick with my Guardians.” No amount of pleading could change his mind and Ainz returned to the quarters he had been provided to watch the remainder of the fights, being able to relax, but he was also nervous, praying quietly for the salvation of humanity.

[beigetiger]

I wanna talk about AU Valkyrie’s soul absorption more, because it’s a pretty big part of Battlescape and I haven’t reeeeally been talking about it.

Basically, Valkyrie’s powerset is even weirder now than previously, because her natural magic is much weaker due to being poisoned by the katehedral energy, she can turn things into dust, and she can, as I mentioned earlier, absorb people’s souls.

First off, she has to make physical contact, usually with the head of a person, in order to absorb the soul of a person she wants. Since she’s actually absorbing them and they’re literally becoming part of her, she’s somewhat particular about who she absorbs. She won’t do it to any random person she’s fighting, but one of her current projects (bordering on an obsession) is collecting and absorbing the souls of everyone who ever mattered to her, based on the idea that she can then keep them safe and she’ll never lose them.

Now, her not losing them isn’t necessarily true. Essentially how it works is that once their soul is fused with Valkyrie’s and their body dies, they start our existing as an entirely separate personality with separate memories and experiences, and Valkyrie can essentially summon them into real life to talk to them (or she can just communicate with them mentally, Darquesse style). However, as years pass, the secondary personality (whoever Valkyrie absorbed) slowly begins to fully mesh with her soul, going from having to ask about certain experiences to being able to flip through those experiences to Valkyrie remembering those experiences as if she lived them. The aspects of them that Valkyrie can summon also then slowly become more distant or faint over time, although they never fade completely. At the end, they are completely meshed with Valkyrie and all of their personality, memories, experiences, and so on are now entirely hers to own and implement. She doesn’t love this inevitable stage, but she’s basically accepted it as the price to pay for never losing someone she loves.

One big thing I should note for this, because it’s important, is that she refuses to do it without the person’s consent, only exception being if they’re actively dying. She has the offer open to a lot of people for her to absorb their souls (most of them in Roarhaven) and it’s very much a point of moral and personal debate for them. Dexter Vex is an absolute disaster, and he’s definitely considered this offer the most. Saracen is pretty much what’s keeping him sane.

Another thing I should probably mention is that Valkyrie could theoretically do this to anyone, dead or alive, but it’s much less complicated to absorb people who are alive (their souls are easier to get ahold of, easier to transport, etc). A huge part of her project is finding a way to get ahold of the souls of those she’s lost or those she feels deserved better so that they can become a part of her forever. These are people like Gordon, Stephanie, Carol, Sanguine, Finbar, Cassandra, Kenspeckle, possibly mr. Bliss, and so on. She’s definitely gotten to a few of them already, but finding out exactly where they are and then getting their souls to join with hers takes a lot of effort, and so the work goes slowly. Her current focus is on Stephanie, which would give Steph the chance to become at least somewhat active and autonomous again.

Skulduggery doesn’t actually mind her bizarre fixation with finding and absorbing souls, and he’s willing to assist her with the process and stops her from going even more insane over the experience overflow that she gets. He’s arrogant and doesn’t really see himself as somebody who will ever be absorbed, but rather someone who will stay by her side but separate from her forever, acting as something real when everything else around Valkyrie is simply an aspect of her many personalities given form.

So…yeah. That’s one of Valkyrie’s many powers. Another power that works similarly but isn’t the same is that she can absorb power from extremely powerful beings and then spread that power around to her followers (which is a very overpowered ability when you regularly get into fights with the Faceless Ones).

Maybe I’ll update this in the future a bit, maybe I won’t. I’m looking forward to writing more details about this ability though 😁

[catastrophicxfailure]

closed for ✵ @perilousxrealm.

setting ✵ new asgard.

muse ✵ carol danvers and valkyrie.

The sky was dark once they arrived back on Earth, allowing the bifrost to transport them with Carol's arms wrapped around the other tightly, eyes squeezed tightly shut until their feet were flat in front of the building she'd grown to know well. When the colors faded away, she was hesitant to unwrap herself from the other woman, though eager to get inside before anyone noticed either of them were there. During the day was one thing, often Carol was even happiness when she was sparring with the tiny Asgardians, rolling around in mud when she needed a breath from the conflict in space (and in her head), but that night she found that she needed nothing more than the comfort of Valkyrie's home and a soft bed, much unlike the chair she often fell asleep in at the Avenger's compound.

A warm shower and a pair of Valkyrie's clothes left her significantly cleaner than when they'd arrived, full of Asgardian dirt from their tussle on the ground of a planet far above where they were now. Blonde strands still slightly damp laid against her cheeks as she made her way back into the bedroom, eyeing the comfort of the bed with a longing she hadn't felt in quite some time. "You look comfy... happen to save some room in there?

[loserboyfriendrjl]

weird ask, but assign modes of transportation to the valkyries? (cars (and vaguely which ones), bikes, cycles, walking, etc)

omg wait i love this,,,,,,, lily is a bus, marlene is a motorcycle, mary is a beetle car and dorcas is walking

[colorfuldonutrunaway]

I made a third noob: ...I don't have a name for him. Fuck. After this, I'm going back to Fox and Wolf content.

(Base image under Read More.)

(I FORGOT THE FUCKING GLOVES AND THE TACTICAL HOLSTERS UGHHHHHHH. Game is Creature Chaos.)

So, I have the tiny inklings of an idea forming for what the various noobs would be a part of, universe-wise. I'm thinking of a dystopian scenario where a country is fighting an endless war against a wave of robots/zombies. And every sector of society is well organized role...based on avatar stereotypes.

We've got the Noobs, who are basically a public service class. They mostly work in retail, assisted living, and manual labor. They aren't born naturally like other groups, they're actually grown in a laboratory, coming out fully matured.

Then there's the Valkyries (or Valks for short) who are the warrior class. They fight all the battles against the endless menace.

I haven't solidified the other ideas yet, but the backstory for Kai would be that he's a noob created purely for companionship, meaning that he's essentially a pet for a Valkyrie. But he's been born with super strength, which is extremely unnatural for a noob. Even more unnatural is that he desires to be a Valkyrie, which violates how the class system works.

On the other hand, Witch is a companion noob that was "lost" during transport from the lab he was created in. He reappears a couple years later committing arson in various villages. Witch is essentially "feral", meaning he completely lost the tendencies that make him mellowed out like a normal companion noob, and is instead incredibly violent and untrustworthy. He gets given to a Valkyrie in the hopes of rehabilitating him.

I don't know what to do for the guy in the pic above, I'll figure it out I guess. But that's my current headcanon for these OCS. Maybe I'll flesh it out in the future, maybe I'll retcon it completely, who knows.

[shadowsingerlightsinger]

A Court of Shadows and Sunlight Chapter Three

I'm baaaaaack. Finally felt inspired to keep writing. Warning for Az once again being a self-sabotaging idiot.

Part One|Pt.2

Ao3 Link

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

Azriel was, quite possibly, the most bored he had ever been in his entire life. He had been on the outskirts of autumn for two weeks now, and had absolutely nothing to show for it. Not that he expected to find much when he originally set out. After that morning in the ring with Gwyn and the prompt talking-to from Cassian, he knew he had to distance himself. Thus: Autumn. Dull, soporific, beautiful Autumn. Even when he found himself entirely worn out by this place, he couldn’t deny the beauty of the fiery shades in every tree and the cool breeze that brushed the hair from his forehead. 

Are you done being avoidant, brother? Rhysand’s night-kissed voice murmured into his mind. Azriel huffed and shifted where he sat, arms braced on his knees where he looked out over a cliff face. From this vantage point, he could glimpse the entrance of Beron’s palace. When it became clear he wasn’t going to respond, talons grazed the walls of his mind before he felt Rhysand’s presence fade from his consciousness. Rhys had first accepted Azriel’s decision to depart on a mission for autumn without comment, trusting his brother's intuition when it came to the need to gather intelligence. As the weeks wore on, though, Azriel knew his brother was beginning to suspect that this mission was more for escape than anything. He refused to speak on it despite Rhys’s unending attempts. Rhysand still didn’t know what was going on in Azriel’s personal life. Only Cassian knew what had happened, and he planned to keep it that way. 

Suddenly, he felt a shifting in the breeze behind him. A shadow crept up and curled around his ear. Eris, it whispered. He stiffened, annoyed by the future high lord’s unwelcome intrusion into his brooding. 

“What do you want, Eris?”  he spat without bothering to turn his head from the view before him. Eris strode around to stand in front of him, red hair lit like a halo by the sun behind him. Gods, why did everyone in autumn have to have red hair? Every time he caught a glimpse of a woman out of the corner of his eye, his heart leapt, reaching for Gwyn. 

“Just checking to see if I might need to be hiring someone to deal with my court's new bat problem” Eris responded with a sneer. “We may be allies, but that doesn’t mean I appreciate your hulking presence shadowing the borders of my court.”

“You’re father’s court” Azriel corrected, never one to pass up even the slightest opportunity to shoot a barb at the prince.  Eris dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand. 

“Either find me some information of interest, or take your snooping elsewhere”. With that, autumn leaves swirled around the male and he was gone. Message received. His presence in autumn would no longer be tolerated. Azriel stood with a groan, his legs aching from sitting in the same position for so long. As much as he didn’t want to return to the House of Wind, he didn’t think Rhys would appreciate him starting a feud between Night and Autumn. It was time to go home. Silently, he summoned his shadows and stepped into their endless night, transporting himself back to the Night Court. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn he heard a few of them whispering Valkyrie as they carried him home. 

When he landed on a balcony of the House of Wind, Cassian was already there to greet him. 

“She’s in the House’s library” he said without preamble. How he knew Azriel was coming, the he wasn’t sure. 

“Glad to see you too, brother,” Azriel responded. Cassian simply pinned him with a look, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel blinked back, face impassive. He wasn’t going to let Cassian push him around, especially when it came to her. Seeing he wasn’t getting anywhere, Cassian retreated into the House with a shake of his head. Azriel followed behind his brother, making his way to the kitchen. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he’d barely eaten today. As he sat at the table, he asked the house for a meal. A bit aggressively, an empty plate clattered into place in front of him. 

“Really?” He called out into the silent air. “Can I please eat?” In answer, a full plate of food materialized on the side table that stood in the hallway. The smell of roast chicken and vegetables wafted to him tantalizingly. Azriel reluctantly rose to his feet, walking down the hall. Just before his fingers could grasp the plate and bring it back to the dining table, it disappeared, rematerializing on the stone tiles further down the hall. 

“Seriously?” He said to no one. In response, the lights seemed to flicker as if responding yes, seriously. The house continued to take him further down the hall, leading him with dinner like a horse with a carrot. If he wasn’t so hungry, he would have given up, but he continued to play the house’s game. Finally, the plate landed just outside the door to the private library. Valkyrie is inside, his shadows whispered, our mate. As he approached, the plate disappeared again. 

“Oh thank you,” he heard a soft voice say through the door, “but I’m not hungry”. When his dinner didn’t reappear, Azriel resigned himself to going to bed hungry. Clearly, the house didn’t want to feed him, deciding to play with him instead. He still wasn’t sure what he’d done long ago to earn the sentient building’s ire, but it never made the simplest requests easy for him. When he turned to go to his room, though, the library door swung open of its own accord. He froze, suddenly exposed to the Valkyrie seated in the plush armchair directly across from the open doorway. 

“Azriel!” Gwyneth exclaimed, putting her book face down on an arm of the chair, “welcome back”. The priestess stood, striding across the room. 

“Is this your dinner?” She asked, gesturing to where his still steaming plate sat on the low coffee table. 

“Yes, sorry,” he said, barely able to meet her gaze. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but the house wouldn’t let me eat in the kitchen”. He couldn’t stand it, being in such close proximity to her now that he knew how her lips tasted. Every instinct cried out within him to take, claim. His shadows had already mutinied, twining themselves around her shoulders and arms instead of his own. 

“Please, come in,” she urged, placing a guiding hand on his arm. He involuntarily tensed, not trusting himself to hold his desires back at even this small amount of contact. Sensing his unease, she retreated to the couch, once again encouraging him to sit with her and eat. A particularly traitorous shadow pressed at his back, and he begrudgingly entered the room, seating himself on the far end of the couch. Wordlessly, he picked up the plate of food, the house finally allowing him to eat his meal. 

“You were gone a while,” Gwyn began as he speared a bite on his fork and chewed. 

“Yes,” he said once he swallowed, “Autumn needed to be watched”.  Liar, a shadow whispered. 

“Oh,” she said, a blush rising to her freckled cheeks. Gods she was stunning like this. Fire and faelight gilded her skin and hair, her flushed skin sending his mind reeling with visions of what that skin would look like against his sheets. “It’s just- I thought- oh nevermind,” she stammered. 

Our mate is feeling uncomfortable, a shadow breathed. That shook him from his thoughts. For the first time that evening, Azriel took a real look at the priestess. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her teeth worrying at her full bottom lip. Clearly, something was on her mind. He inwardly admonished himself. She was his friend first, and here he was lusting after her while she had something to get off her chest. 

“Priestess,” he said gently, setting his plate and fork aside, “what is it?”

“It’s nothing,” she said hurriedly, “just silliness”

She’s a liar too, his shadows muttered. 

“Berdara, I can tell something’s up with you” he cajoled her. He pinned her with his “spymaster” stare. The look that said, you will tell me what you know. She squirmed under her gaze. He didn’t relent, content to let her stew until she was ready to talk. 

“I just,” she began, before stopping herself to take a deep breath. “I thought maybe you left because of what we did in the ring that day”. The words left her mouth in a rush. Her teal eyes flicked to his and them away, flitting around the room as her admission settled between them. His heart cracked a bit at her truth. He could sense her hurt down their one-sided bond. When he left, he didn’t stop to think what it might look like to her when he ran so soon after her brave kiss. Brave, beautiful, mate, his shadows sang.

“No,” he said sincerely, “my leaving had nothing to do with you”. His hand reached out to her almost of its own volition before he caught himself, reeling it back in. Gwyn’s keen eyes tracked each movement, seeming to shutter when he stopped his grasp. 

“I’m not sure I believe you,” she murmured, eyes downcast. 

“I promise you,” Azriel urged, “it had everything to do with me, not you”. She looked pointedly at his hands before returning her piercing gaze back to his own hazel stare. She clenched her jaw, her spine stiffening in what seemed like anger. 

“Then why won’t you touch me?” She questioned. When he didn’t answer, Gwyn reached, grasping one of his scarred palms in her own smooth hand. When he tensed, she held on tighter, fiercely staring him down. “Do you regret it?” she asked, her attitude daring him to respond. Azriel didn’t trust himself to answer. Knowing her past, he was almost certain she would detest the primal nature of a mating bond. He didn’t want to force that upon her, and he wasn’t sure he could trust his own mouth not to spill his soul’s secrets. 

“Do. You. Regret. It?” She pressed, scooting closer to him on the couch. They were nearly knee to knee now. Azriel could feel her warmth through the leather of his pants. Her nearness scrambled his thoughts. He could barely remember what she had asked. Cauldron boil him, he felt like a youngling, flustered by a pretty girl simply holding his hand. Our Valkyrie awaits your response, a helpful shadow reminded him. 

“No,” he croaked, voiced barely above a whisper, “I don’t regret it”. 

“But you can barely look at me,” she responded, silver beginning to line her lovely eyes, “and you react to my touch like it repulses you”. His heart broke open. 

“Never, you could never repulse me,” he reassured her, grasping her other unoccupied hand. The touch sent a shock through his body. He pushed down his body’s need, forcing himself to focus on the priestess kneeling on the couch before him. She searched his face, looking for signs of a lie. When her lips parted to question him further, he couldn’t help himself. He rushed forward, capturing plush lips with his own in a gentle kiss. Almost instantly, she softened beneath him, leaning back so that he could press her into the cushions. His tongue swiped across the entrance to her mouth, and she welcomed him, tongue tangling with his own. He groaned, deepening the kiss, unable to stop himself from consuming her. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough of her mouth. Her taste on his tongue. After what felt like an eternity and also not nearly enough time, she broke the kiss, pulling back to look him in the eye. 

“What do you want, Azriel?” She questioned him, still breathing hard. “Because I know I have feelings for you, but I can’t keep doing this if I don’t know what you want”. Everything, he thought, I want everything. He couldn’t tell her that though, would never force the bond on her. If, when, she learned of the bond, he wanted it to be on her own time. He realized now, though, that he couldn’t keep himself away. There was no helping it. They would go at her pace then. IF what she wanted right now was to know what he felt for her, then he would give that to her.

“You, Gwyn,” he murmured against her lips, “I want you and whatever you are willing to give me”. 

“Does this mean you’ll be my partner, then?” She asked innocently, mouth quirking into a smile. She had his heart firmly in the palm of her hand.  “My boooyyyfriend?” she said playfully, drawing out the vowels. 

“You can call me whatever you want, priestess, and I’ll answer” he breathed against her ear, relishing in the shudder she let out. “But yes,” he answered her question finally, “I would be honored to be yours”. Gwyneth grinned furiously before pulling him back down into another crushing kiss. Mate, mate, mate his stubborn shadows murmured in his ear. 

[retlasute]

॰ In The Rich Man's World ॰

Word count:  8000

☆ Table of contents

Previous Chapter

Chapter 22 - No Moon At All

You sat on the porch steps feeling pleasantly exhausted. After five days of grueling work, you had collected the new residents and set up half the accommodation for them. Johnny had rented a wagon to transport everything possible, including you. You'd been indoors for so long that Margaret would soon mistake you for one of the ornamental vases in the living room; Johnny was also disturbed by the fact that the sunlight hadn't touched you for three days and practically demanded that you help him and Gyro bring in the animals they had bought from the city.  

Satisfied, you looked around in the direction of the meadow beyond Stephen Steel's small stable. The new residents were all camped there temporarily: two mules, two cows, eight pigs, and God knows how many chickens.  

You wrote down all the names except the chickens on a list and kept it folded and crumpled in the pocket of the new dress Lucy insisted you buy. There were several other lists in there too, annotated, crossed out and corrected to the point where they had become illegible. You felt like a walking Number Book. You also felt like smoking a cigarette.  

Luckily, this seemed to be available: young Peter, lost in the new tasks that the new animals had brought, had returned from work and was sitting on the grass behind the fence. You thought about having a coffee first, then asking for a cigarette. So you did, heading back inside.  

''Are they ready to go?'' A muffled voice asked Vionnet from somewhere in the house.  

''Yes, I think so, ma'am.'' Vionnet said, greeting you with a distracted nod and then returning to dusting the books in the living room.  

''Will they use the wagon?'' Louise suddenly emerged from under the kitchen counter with a large burlap sack in her hands. It was probably full of potatoes. ''If so, ask them to bring some corn.''  

''Leave the corn for tomorrow.'' Suddenly, Gyro burst through the kitchen door, frantically searching for his hat. ''I can't stand riding around in that old wagon like a damn rancher anymore, I want to take my Valkyrie to see the city.''  

''Oh, and why don't you get her to pull the wagon?'' Louise asked and, before poor Johnny could enter the kitchen, she threw the sack of potatoes into his arms. ''Put them in the crate, please.''  

Johnny, without much choice, nodded and went back the way he came, his confused face hidden by the potatoes. Without wasting any time, Louise was already chopping a dozen onions.  

''It's easier for me to make you pull a wagon, carota, than my beloved Valkyrie.''   

''What did you say?'' Her voice had been slightly muffled by the sound of potatoes being dumped into the wooden crate outside.  

''I said it's easier...''  

''I know what you said, you idiot.'' She interrupted him, not bothering to look at him. ''I'm talking about what you called me. Don't call me that again.''  

''What? Carota?''  

''Yes, exactly.''  

At this point, curious, Gyro had forgotten about the previous task of looking for his hat, although Vionnet had taken it upon herself to do it for him.  

''Do you know what it means?''  

''Yes, and I don't want you to call me that again.''  

''What's the matter, carota?'' He continued, amused. ''It's just a name, there's no big deal about it.''  

''I don't care, just don't call me that again.'' 

Sensing the unusual apathy in her voice, the golden smile immediately disappeared and, somewhat embarrassed, he sought refuge in Johnny, who had just left the burlap sack neatly folded on the sink.  

''Right, if you say so... Are you ready, Johnny? Let's go early, so we can get back early... Damn, where's my hat?'' 

''It's here, Mister Zeppeli!'' The small, helpful creature with the chubby cheeks appeared behind him with the hat in her hands, her eyes reaching halfway down his back.   

Startled, Gyro turned around, but was soon reassured when he looked down.  

''Ah, thank you, bella.'' He said, picking up his hat and briefly stroking Vionnet's shoulder. ''Johnny, let's go! The horses are already saddled!''  

''Right, I'm coming!'' Johnny said, then gave Louise's shoulder a couple of pats and whispered ''How much corn do you need?'' 

''One sack is fine.'' She replied, smiling, and then said goodbye to him.  

The chaos almost immediately left along with Johnny and Gyro, who had undoubtedly gone to cause chaos elsewhere.  

Louise, having dated a chef, naturally had a culinary talent almost as good as Margaret's, but she had one peculiarity: she was incapable of carrying out any task in the kitchen if someone else was nearby or trying to help. You've learned the hard way that if Louise is in the kitchen, then get the hell out of her way. 

Vionnet also learned this when, accustomed to always doing this when Margaret was in the kitchen, she tried to sweep the floor while Louise hung the caraway branches to dry in the window. The poor girl was thrown out and spent the day cleaning only the upstairs, afraid to go downstairs.   

The living room was clean and quiet, with particular golden dust glittering in the air that stirred through the open doors and windows. A wagon, a carriage and an elegant two-wheeled cabriolet lay on the hay-covered floor, like huge, placid beasts. You looked at Louise, who was staring at you with her lips half-circled after long hours in the kitchen.  

''Are you drinking already?'' She nodded at the glass of whisky in your hands.  

''It was already here, I won't waste it.'' You said. ''Would you like some?''  

''No, thanks.'' She said politely, but in a tired tone. ''Where did you get that notebook?''  

You took a long, delicious sip of the whisky Stephen had left there, feeling the drink warm your throat and curl up in your chest like a purring cat. This time, Louise nodded in the direction of the other open object in your hands.  

''Johnny gave it to me when I went into town with him.'' 

''Oh, how nice. And what are you writing on it?''  

It would be easier to say what you weren't writing on it. You didn't answer, you just flicked through the little notebook for a few seconds, thinking.  

''About the Devil's Palm?'' She asked again.  

''Also.''  

''And did you find out anything?''  

''I don't know.''  

''Do you think we can get home without the corpse?'' 

She stared at you, her green eyes waiting.  

You took a deep breath. Only Louise, you thought wryly, would go straight to the elephant in the room and grab it by the trunk.   

''No, I don't think so.''  

She compressed her lips, giving a brief sign of frustration followed by compliance. Then she picked up a comb from the coffee table, sat down and started combing her hair, watching you write. There was nothing to hide from her there, and nothing she would understand by reading it herself. Just recaps, notes, lists, hypotheses... a complete mess. But now, on that particular page, you were trying to recover your memory from before and during your time at the Devil's Palm. 

You were more drunk, so you didn't remember very well. But Louise remembered. It was very noticeable when she woke up from nightmares, her eyes wide, staring into the void, unable to describe her dream. Thank God, it didn't happen often.  

You yourself would break out in a cold sweat whenever you remembered the Devil's Palm. For God's sake, there was no name for what you and she felt and still feel, because the human race as a whole has not suffered this experience. It was nowhere near anything that could be compared to it.  

None of the senses worked there. In sleep, it felt like death. But at the same time, they all worked, in such a state of hypersensitivity that you would die from it if it lasted a little longer. An immense void in which the sound seemed to beat you, pulsing through your body, trying to separate every cell. Absolute blindness, the blindness of looking directly at the sun. And the impact of... bodies? Ghosts? Invisible people who brushed against you like moth wings or seemed to run into you and through you, like a collision of shuffling bones. A permanent sensation of screaming. Bones. Shuffling bones.   

Was there a smell? You stopped to think, frowning, trying to remember. Yes, of course there was. And, strange as it may seem, a perfectly describable smell: the smell of air burnt by lightning. Ozone.  

It smells strongly of ozone, you wrote, feeling relieved to have at least this small point of reference with the normal world.  

That relief disappeared in the next instant, as you returned to the mental effort of remembering.  

It felt as if nothing, apart from your willpower, kept you and the people of that time, like Gyro and Johnny, together, nothing but the absolute determination to survive. However, going back to the past and still not knowing what awaits you didn't help one bit. It was different - and much worse than anything you had ever felt before.  

Was there a sound? Yes, of course, but it was disturbingly human, the same sound you were hearing now. Louise hummed Dem Dry Bones almost religiously every time she got distracted, and that's what she was doing now. Yes, that was the sound of your passage in particular, that song that sounded more disturbing in your mind every day. You already knew by heart the order in which Ezekiel collected the damn bones.  

Then you thought back to the not-so-distant past. The list of fatalities from the Steel Ball Run. The names underlined, because you heard them before or during your stay at the Steel's house. Mountain Tim, Sandman, Hot Pants... Hot pants. A curious name, yet you were sure that Johnny and Gyro referred to this person as if they were still alive; but why was this name on the list of fatalities? Was this person using a new identity?   

You know you shouldn't look at them, the ghosts or whatever they were. “Look”  wasn't the right word... pay attention? Once again, there was no right word, and you sighed, exasperated.  

''Dem bones, dem bones gonna...'' 

''Walk around.'' You sang softly, in chorus with Louise. ''Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around...''  

''Now hear the word of the Lord.''  

You drummed your pen on the paper for a moment, thinking, then shook your head and leaned over the page again, but you couldn't bring yourself to write about anything now. Later. Instead, you turned the pages back to the rough sketch you had made at the beginning.  

Time travel: cause and cure  

Physical phenomena  

Known locations (ancient routes?)  

Religious nature  

Mortality  

The influence and properties of Ecclesiastes  

Powers?  

You were about to cross out the last item, but hesitated. Did you have to write down everything you knew, believed or suspected? You thought the idea of acquiring cursed abilities was silly, a pagan superstition with no real validity. You could have been right. After all, you were the scientist. But you have a disturbing memory of the night you saw Johnny shoot his own nails.  

Long blond hair fluttering in the icy, rising wind, the fluttering locks silhouetted for an instant against the window. The nauseating smell of mold and alcohol. It was too far away.  

Fairy tales. Stories of people who became serial killers, driven mad by the spirits of the place. That's how such stories were always told.  

Reluctantly, you slowly wrote the word powers again, adding parentheses (stand abilities??), but nothing underneath. Not now; later.  

''What's that?'' She asked, pointing to a paragraph that was exceptionally long and cohesive compared to the other notes. She quickly picked up the notepad to read it better. ''Jeez, where did you get that from?''  

''What?'' 

''We dangle over an abyss and common sense tells us that our existence is no more than a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.'' She read aloud, resting on the Bergere armchair.   

''Ah, that... Nothing much, just a reverie of mine. Not everything I write there has anything to do with the plan.''  

''Hm, I didn't even know we could call it a plan. What do you mean two eternities?''  

''What do you think?''  

''Are you going to ask for my interpretation? Are you sure?'' Louise said with a soft, restrained laugh, leaning her elbows on her knees, interested. She thought for a while, maybe thirty seconds, which she thought was enough. ''If so, I believe you're talking about life and death, aren't you?''  

''Yes, too. But there is something before life, an abyss as deep as death.''  

''Is there? Ah, the conversation is getting too intellectual. Why did you think of that, anyway?''  

''Nothing, I guess. I'm talking about the abyss from before birth.'' You answered simply, abandoning the glass of whisky.  

''But comparing that state to death is a bit... exaggerated, don't you think?''  

''These two abysses are identical twins. But we, as a rule, see the pre-natal abyss more calmly than the one we're heading for.''  

''Ha! You've reminded me of something funny...'' Louise laughed, leaning back in her armchair more relaxed and looking around to make sure there was no one who could hear. ''You're right, but I know a friend who panicked when he found out his parents had made a tape of his... conception, I think that shocked him more than the idea of death.'' 

''Hm, you may be right, but what if his panic is more complex?''  

Louise raised her eyebrows, the two orange lines so arched that they almost framed her eyes. What could be more complex than the contemporary terror of being able to watch your own conception?  

 ''What do you suggest?''  

''I don't know, I imagine you know your friends much better than I do.'' You stopped to think for a moment, undeniably amused by the sudden discussion. ''What if he's just a chronophobe?'' 

''Chronophobe?'' 

''He's afraid of the passage of time and how it works. What if, suddenly, seeing a world practically unchanged; the same house, the same people he sees every day... he then realized that he didn't exist there at all and that no one regretted his absence?''  

''Hm, I think you're overthinking this... he just got scared watching his parents screwing.'' She said. ''You now, choking and pounding. That's terrifying.'' 

''Ah...'' You laughed. ''Maybe you're right. I'm thinking too much.''  

You then began to deduce, with the unreliable hypotheses of your mind, what would be on the sex tape of the poor man's parents. These fantasies are no stranger to young people. Or, to put it another way, the first and last things in life tend to have an adolescent tone - unless, perhaps, they are directed by a venerable and rigid religion.   

But the first conception sounds as immature and adolescent as the loss of virginity, just as a last date sounds as melodramatic as the last breath. Nature expects a grown man to accept the two black voids, before and after, as impassively as he accepts the exceptional visions between them.  

''What about Gyro and Johnny?'' She asked, with a curious tone. ''How would they react if they heard a story like that?''  

''If they found out that in the future we could watch our parents' sex tapes?''  

''Yes. How would they feel about that?''  

''That sounds like pure horror. Let's spare them.''  

''Oh, right.'' She nodded, somewhat disappointed.  

You can understand the frustration, it would be very funny and it's not out of the question yet, but she'd better leave it for another day.   

''I need some fresh air.'' You said, less apathetically than usual.  

''Alright.'' Louise replied as she combed her hair, more apathetically than usual.  

You didn't ask or say anything. You just stood up with your notepad and fountain pen - which, by God, you still didn't know how to use properly - and excused yourself to the agitated Vionnet after she bumped into you, blinded by her accumulated tasks. You didn't mind, you were thinking of Louise. In a few days, she suddenly seemed apathetic; she didn't talk, she didn't look you in the eye. You could only remember Creed, and think that she also shared these thoughts.  

But more painful than her apathy was her sudden joy. You'd expect that tomorrow morning she'd be back to “normal”, chatting to everyone and searching endlessly for something to do, with a frightening smile on her face. This phase of non-prolonged mania was disturbing, as if someone else had taken control of her body; although they still spoke, acted and thought like Louise, both parts. ''Louise'' no longer seemed like a person, but a kind of unity - or the opposite of unity. 

Sister, you should put me on a firing squad, I have no words to describe how I failed you.  

You didn't know where you'd heard it and you had no desire to remember it, but it seemed a very appropriate quote for your current situation, you thought as you watched the horizon. It wasn't a productive afternoon, nor was it a productive day, but your body was still crying out for cigarettes. You thought again that perhaps young Peter could help you with that, but you feared that he had already left to pick Stephen up from his work.  

Outside, a carpet of clouds illuminated by the sunset greeted the night's arrival with anticipation. You closed your eyes, in a state of suspended vigilance. Back in the twentieth century, Thomas and the police were looking for you and Louise. Up ahead, on Staten Island, Gyro and Johnny were looking for the corpse - or at least information about it - and here, now, you and Louise were looking for a way out. You smiled slightly as you walked, feeling the wooden surface of the fence, on the lookout for splinters. Louise was your best friend; probably the only person close to you who really understood what you were doing and why. And then you took a deep breath. Maybe you didn't want to leave just then.  

On this side, in the past, everything was silent, beautiful and serene, in marked contrast to the turmoil of your other life. You had the strange sensation of being suspended in the air, motionless, isolated in solitude, even young Peter's heavy breathing, now ahead, being just part of the white noise that makes up the silence, a silence that includes the warm hum of the wind and the snorting of the draft horses, ready to serve honorably in the task of bringing Stephen Steel home in time for dinner.  

You felt a light breeze in your hair and a strand brushed against your cheek, as light as a lover's touch. Surely it was the air mass that the afternoon brought to the coast and your imagination which, underlying the stale smells of grass and cigarettes, suddenly made you smell the scents of bleach and Thomas.  

''Do you need anything, lady?'' The young man asked, having just finished harnessing the two big, fat horses, one gray with white spots and the other white with gray spots. They weren't stains like the meshes of a cow, but as if someone had sprayed permanent paint on them, like painting two Dalmatians. ''I'll be picking up Mister Steel soon, would you like me to bring something from the town?'' 

''Actually, yes.'' You said it bluntly, your abstinent brain couldn't work well in the field of social relations. ''Cigarettes. How much are they?'' 

''They're not that expensive, lady, I can pay for you.'' With a yellowish smile - and incredibly more hygienic than Gyro's - he nodded chivalrously. ''Which cigarettes do you need?''  

''Any that burns.'' You said, trying to sound relaxed. ''Do you have any for me until you get back from town?'' 

''Of course, miss.'' 

And then he reached into the pocket of his baggy trousers, pulling out an almost perfect pack of a brand you already knew. Instead of just giving you a cigarette, he respectfully handed the pack to you and you took it with curiosity.  

Lucky Strike. You didn't know it was such an old brand, and it wasn't your favorite either, but anything would do now. You opened it and...   

There you go, a brave little army. A platoon of twenty cigarettes, brave souls standing in salute, ready to burn for you, lady...

''Thank you.'' You said, taking one and handing the rest back to Peter, who politely declined.  

''Don't worry, miss, I'll buy another one in town, you can keep this one.'' He said, still smiling. ''I've never met a woman who liked that kind of cigarette.''  

''Oh, I'm not very demanding, you know...''   

Polite and helpful, you thought dryly when, the moment you put the cigarette in your mouth, Young Peter was already lighting a match for you. You tilted your head forward, accepting the gesture with pleasure.  

''Mister Steel had already told me about Mister Zeppeli and Mister Joestar once. But he never mentioned you and Miss Duncan.''  

A thick, hot smoke is sucked into your lungs. Immediately you feel a tender nostalgia fill your head, body and soul. A nostalgia for yourself, the woman you used to be. The long, elegant nails, red like those of a Messalina. Red like the soles of your heels. Red like your lingerie. Red like the filters on your cigarettes. Head of archaeological research. Doctor-researcher (Y/N) is back, and she's the coolest one who's ever stepped foot in this building.  

''I thought they'd told you something about us.''  

Peter looked at you from the other side of the fence you were leaning on, curious. His greasy hair stuck to his shiny, sweaty forehead.  

''Should I have heard something?''  

''I don't know.'' You paused to take a deep drag from your cigarette. ''Should they have told you something?'' 

''People say a lot of things around here, and few of them are reliable.'' He concluded. ''I imagined you were their wives, but I don't see any rings on your fingers.''  

''Hm, good to know you're out there looking for rings on our fingers.'' You scoffed, the nicotine bringing your good mood back to the same industrially deregulated levels.  

''Oh, I'm sorry, miss, it's not at all what you think!'' He defensively corrected himself. ''I assure you it's nothing inappropriate, just curiosity.''  

''It's okay, silly.'' You laughed. ''It's a more delicate choice than asking like most people do. I'm not married, and Miss Duncan is a widow. We're two intellectuals, personal friends of Gyro and Johnny. As good friends as Lucy, I guess. That's why we're here.''  

''That's... vague, but good. Well, it's not my job to investigate your lives, but I'm glad you told me.'' And there it was, the yellowish smile back on his dirty face. ''And speaking of work, it's time for me to go. Enjoy your cigarettes, lady.''  

''I will. Thank you.''  

Yes, you will. You and your notepad. You and your brain. You and... maybe your lungs don't like the party very much, but they're the losing vote. There wasn't much left for you to do but wait on the porch.  

And it happened, not only that they approached, gliding, those two familiar smiles; not only did the night return, bringing with it the newspapers, two bags of corn and a basket of sandwiches and fruit, with those bright red strawberries, so beautiful, large, well-bred, clearly begging to be bitten; not only did all this return with Gyro and Johnny, old Stephen in his green autumnal haze also returned, as did young Peter, exercising his extra occupation of private driver.  

When the carriage arrives, the sky begins to darken. You look up at the low, black clouds and smell the rain, thinking of the rains of the past, the rains of childhood and wondering: what is my mother doing now? Is she watching my disappearance on television?  

You miss your mother and, as Freud would say, why do we become childish in difficult times? They say that on the frontlines of wars, soldiers call out for their mothers during the fighting. The lightning flashes and then explodes in the distant sky, drowning out the voices of your friends, drowning out those beats in your heart, which you feel beating in your throat like a drum; and a chill runs through your skin, making you long for childhood colds.  

''Is everything alright, (Y/N)?'' You hear Johnny ask, and you could swear he was still about twenty meters away, taking the sack of corn off his horse.  

''Ah!'' you exclaimed in surprise as the voice came from behind you and the two bags of corn had already been placed on the porch. How hard can you get distracted? ''Oh, Johnny. Yes, of course. I'm fine.'' 

A blond eyebrow rose.  

''Are you sure? You look pale. Are you sick?'' 

''No, I'm fine.'' You assured him. ''How was the town?''  

''Same as always. It seems they're organizing the church for some local event.''  

''Or a baptism.''  

''Baptism?'' Confused, Johnny leaned next to you. ''How do you know?''  

''I don't know. But Lucy told me that her friend is pregnant, about to have a baby. She's the closest neighbor we have.'' You explained. ''Madam Argentine, I don't know.''  

''Argentan?'' 

''Yeah, that's it.'' You said, laughing a little at your confusion. ''Do you know her?''  

''No, but the name doesn't sound strange, Stephen seems to like her husband.''  

''Hm, I heard Lucy saying that they're going to invite the Argentans here for lunch. Do you think it's safe?''  

''If Stephen approves of the visit, I don't see why you should worry.'' He said, glancing at the notebook in your hands. ''Have you used up half the pages? I've never met anyone who reads and writes as much as you do. '' 

''Ha, that's all I know how to do, Johnny.''  

''Are you religious, (Y/N)?''  

The question, although simple, took you by surprise. So you faced him.  

''What?''  

''Sorry, I was just curious. Your friend said she plans to go into town at least once a week to visit the church, I think she's going with Lucy. But what about you? I've never seen you talk about it.''  

''It's because I'm not very attached to religion.'' Curricular atheism, that's what you called it. ''Actually, it's funny you asked me that. Did you know that I did an entire seminar accusing the corpses of saints of being a hoax?''  

''Really? How... ironic.''  

''Yes, ironic and cruel.''  

''What's a seminar?''  

''Ah... it's a kind of work you do to prove to your college that you're competent.'' You explained, stubbing out your third cigarette on the porch fence and disposing of the butt in a glass of water that you had improvised as an ashtray. ''It was this work that got me a place at the Speedwagon Foundation.''   

''I see... so you don't believe the corpse is that of a saint?'' Johnny asked, frowning, clearly puzzled. At this point, not believing was stupid.  

You shrugged, feeling the weight of the question.   

''It's not that simple. Science can explain a lot, but what we're facing now... is different.'' 

Johnny nodded slowly, as if processing your words.   

''I see. I guess everyone has their own ways of dealing with... well, all of it.''  

''Exactly. I just think that questioning things is part of the process. But that doesn't mean that I don't respect what others believe or that... I don't believe it myself.'' 

The silence that followed was comfortable, almost reassuring. Despite the differences in beliefs, there seemed to be a mutual understanding, a tacit acceptance. There was still enough light for you to see a mocking expression cross Johnny's face. Having never discussed matters of faith with people who weren't academics, you were more than cautious in these matters, but at least you were familiar with the general concept of each other's beliefs.  

''You're an interesting person, (Y/N).'' Johnny finally said, with a small smile. ''I think this house needs a more thinking person than the rest.''  

''Thanks, I guess.'' You gave a slight smile back.   

''It's getting cold and I'm sure it's going to rain.'' He said, putting his hand over his eyes as if to protect them from the sun that had already set, watching the distant lightning. ''How about we go inside?''  

''I just need one more cigarette.'' The answer came in a hoarse squawk. You sniffed and tried again. ''Just one more. Dinner can wait a bit. You can stay if you like. If you're not starving...''  

He was. He hadn't stopped for lunch in town and his stomach was empty, but it didn't matter.   

''I'm fine. It's a nice evening.''  

He pulled you gently, making you move again.   

You crossed the outdoor area through the garden and headed for the stable, walking to the short path that led to the pasture behind the house. Peter had already cleaned up the two cows he had bought, Blossom and Daisy, and they had settled down for the night, big dark figures on the grass, ruminating.  

''You said you did a work accusing holy corpses of being fake... are there more corpses?'' 

''Oh, yes. We call them incorrupt bodies, and they're everywhere. This practice will be more common in the next century, so it makes sense that you don't know many incorrupt bodies.''  

''Practice?''  

''Yes, practice.'' You took another cigarette out of the pack. ''The practice of hiring thanatopraxists to inject formaldehyde into the dried arteries of a dead person and then guarantee millions and millions of dollars for the pockets of the Catholic Church.''  

Johnny frowned, processing what you had just said. 

''So, they keep these bodies 'uncorrupted' as a way of fooling people?''  

You lit your cigarette and took a deep drag before answering.  

''Basically. The idea is that the body of a saint doesn't decompose like an ordinary body, as a divine sign. But the truth is that a lot goes on behind the scenes to make these bodies seem miraculous. And it's not just faith that's involved; it's a lot of money too.''  

''I never imagined something like this could exist. It seems... absurd.'' Johnny shook his head thoughtfully. Then almost immediately took some matches out of his pocket for you, ready to light your cigarette. 

''It is absurd..'' you agreed, letting out a puff of smoke. ''But it's reality. When you start to see the world without the lenses of blind faith, you realize that not everything is what it seems.'' 

The cows, already settled for the night, continued to ruminate, oblivious to the conversation. The surroundings were quiet, just the gentle sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the occasional movement of the animals in the barn. 

Johnny remained motionless, the night wind carrying the damp smell of the earth and the distant sound of rain. What you had just said seemed to have diverted something inside him, something fragile, something he perhaps didn't even know was still there.  

''So, in the end, what's left for people who believe?'' Johnny muttered, almost to himself. His voice was a low, trembling note. He had taken that information too personally. ''If faith can be bought and tampered with. What's left?''  

You watched the cigarette butt glow in the darkness, like a lone star burning its last vestige of light. You didn't quite know how to answer this question; you didn't even expect Johnny to develop a decent line of thought on the subject.  

''I don't know, Johnny, I'm not a theologian. In the end, the only thing I can cling to, if not God, is the time I have left.'' 

''But you don't count. I'm talking about ordinary people, they need to believe in something, don't they? Without that, without some kind of faith, what's to stop them from just giving up?'' 

You let go of the smoke, which dissipated into the cold air, like thoughts that never materialize, mere specters of possibilities.  

''Nothing stops them. Some give up. Others... cling to anything that seems true, even if it's a lie, because the emptiness is unbearable. Because emptiness, Johnny, is the closest thing to the truth.'' You sighed, feeling ridiculous. You were beginning to sound like your boss. ''Look, let's talk about something else''.  

''But what about the corpse?'' Johnny asked, interested in your opinion. ''You don't believe in God, but you witnessed the corpse's powers.''  

''I didn't say I don't believe in God.''  

''But you sound like someone who doesn't.'' He retorted, and that comment made you especially uncomfortable. He wasn't trying to be inconvenient, let alone offensive. He was just curious. Then you began to think that perhaps you shouldn't see Johnny as a mere specimen of something different; as a Neanderthal from whom concise reasoning is not expected.  

''I don't know, Johnny. I just don't believe in the things they attribute to God. Like incorruptibility, predestination, salvation and all that stuff.''  

His blue eyes opened wider in understanding.  

''They say that's what God is, as well as many other things. Isn't that the same as not believing in him?''  

You tried to explain your idea in simple terms, such as your disbelief in predestination. Predestination, in this case, was not just an inevitable destiny ordained by God or the notion that God had already planned everyone's life in detail before they were born - although not a few Presbyterians saw it exactly that way. It had to do with salvation and the idea that God chose a path that led to that salvation.  

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, as if to block out the growing darkness around him.  

''For some people.'' He said. ''And then He curses the rest?''  

Johnny seemed to believe that. A lot of people believed it too, and it took better minds than yours to dispute that impression. 

''There are whole books written about it, but there is also the basic idea that salvation doesn't just depend on our choice. God acts first. By extending the invitation and giving us an opportunity to accept. But we still have free will. And yet, how can we recognize this invitation? And what about those who don't receive it? I, for example, will enter hell through the front door, welcome banner and all. Why would they waste their time inviting me to salvation?'' 

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his, tired but still shining with a spark of something indescribable, something primal. At this point, you were just babbling and he was too hungry for that. 

''You don't seem like a bad person.'' He said after a while in silence. ''You're just confused.''  

His eyes darted back to the house and he frowned. He faced it a second later, swallowing and looking a little paler.  

''Stephen is watching us.'' He said  

You felt the tension that had dominated you for the last 24 hours increase. You had a feeling you were being watched in that house from the moment you set foot in it. You weren't going crazy, then. You didn't think to look back, you just pretended to ignore his comment.  

''You must be hungry, you should go back inside and have dinner.''  

''Yeah, I'm starving. But aren't you coming?''  

''No. I just need to finish this cigarette.'' 

''Haven't you finished?''  

''I need one more.''  

''Why?''  

''I don't know.''  

''It's about to rain, you shouldn't stay out here.''  

''I'm fine. If it rains, I'll go inside. I like it here, it's cooler.''  

''If you say so... just be careful, okay?'' 

You nodded without looking at him. You stood outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warm bustle emanating from inside the house. The crackle of the cigarette between your fingers was a subtle, almost meditative sound that blended in with the muffled murmur of conversations that filtered through the walls.  

The warmth of the cigarette flame briefly illuminated your face, casting shadows that danced across the lines of your cheeks. The smoke drifted slowly, forming ethereal patterns that dissipated into the cool night air. Each puff seemed to take away a fragment of the tensions accumulated throughout the day.  

How long had passed? An hour? Two hours? You knew that this was the fifth cigarette since Johnny had come back inside. The voices were quieter and one of the upstairs windows, which you imagined belonged to Gyro and Johnny's room, was lit. You could practically see the movement of the house, you already knew by heart what had happened.  

By now, Vionnet must have cleared the table and Louise insisted on helping to clean the kitchen. Johnny had gone to bed, as he always does after nine - which is why the light in his room was on - and Stephen was preparing his daily idiosyncrasy of smoking cigarillos with cognac while talking to Gyro, who seemed to be the only one who could stand all that smoke.  

This routine, every predictable movement and every repeated word, seemed to weave a cloak of monotony over you. It felt like being trapped inside an old clock, where the hands turned incessantly, marking time with merciless precision. The routine setting, with its whispers and laughter, only amplified your sense of alienation. It was an endless dance, where you were condemned to observe, but never really participate. None of the things you watched happening in that house really counted on your presence.  

Then the sound of firm footsteps on the ground outside cut through your thoughts. Gyro appeared in your vision, his silhouette emerging from the darkness with a look of indifference on his face. He approached, and you could see that he was hesitating, looking at your silhouette in the darkness with a little more focus to make sure it was you and not a pile of hay.  

''Are you alright?'' Gyro was calmer than usual, but there was a note of concern in his voice that didn't go unnoticed. He seemed almost uncomfortable, as if your presence was at odds with what was going on around him, an unwelcome guest in the serenity of the night. 

''Yeah.'' You sighed, caught between the desire to run away and the curiosity to know what he wanted. ''Just thinking.''  

''Thinking?''  

''Yes, thinking.'' You prepared to scoff. ''You're not used to doing that, are you?''  

''Seeing you thinking? Nyo-ho... it's not very common.'' He scoffed back. ''Louise is worried about you. She said you were acting strange.'' 

''Oh, and you've come to see if I'm okay? How kind.''  

''I said you always look strange. But she asked me to check on you.'' He replied, ''Are you sure it's all right?''  

His intention was to be gentle, despite everything. Very gentle. Like cleaning a floor full of shards of glass. You could sense that he had planned this carefully, worrying every step of the short way back to the porch of the house, from which you agreed to follow him. He saw you like that; a mess of shards of glass. You were in pieces, and he would need to be astute, not in a hurry. Be careful to glue your shattered parts back together.  

But he would soon discover that you wanted no part in that depressing delicacy, that court. You were a person who dealt with everything directly. Short and violent. If you were shattered, you would cut him with your sharp edges, as carelessly as a drunk with a broken bottle.  

If it was Johnny, you'd understand. You could talk to him. But this was Gyro, and there was something different; something primitive, a simian feeling of mutual distrust between you and him.  

''Come on, what's wrong with you, woman?'' He asked, sitting down next to you, too close due to the little space you both had on the steps and the fact that Gyro was unable to sit with his legs closed. ''Every time I look at you, you look like you've just been hit on the head. It takes you five minutes to answer simple things, as if you were deaf. But at the same time you're so chatty that I refuse to believe that there's really nothing going on in your head, no matter how much it seems like it from time to time.'' 

''What's wrong with me? If you like, I could write a very long list of things that are wrong with me. Starting, not by chance, with the fact that I don't belong here in any way.''  

''You don't belong, but you're here, aren't you?'' He retorted. ''I don't belong here either, my home is on the other side of the ocean and I won't be able to go back there as long as I live. Perhaps not even my corpse can be buried there. I don't belong here, just like you, but we're here and we need to accept that.''  

''Speak for yourself. I don't know what the hell happened for you to be exiled, I don't know what kind of serial killer or wanted politician you are, but I can go home, I just need to think.''  

''And you're not thinking too much? Why don't you try to take advantage of the time you have to rest, like your friend is doing?''  

''She deserves to rest, not me.'' You grunted. ''I need to find a way to track down the Devil's Palm or, if my theories are right, form it nearby.''  

''Form it?'' He asked, but quickly dismissed it, not wanting to make you delve into the subject. ''You don't need to think about that now, we don't even have the corpse.''  

''As soon as we get the corpse, I can't waste time, I...''  

''Are you that desperate to get back?''  

''I can't leave Louise...''  

''Louise doesn't seem desperate, nor as crazy as you seem.'' He interrupted you. ''I'm asking about you.'' 

You shook your head, snorted for the tenth time, and then stood up. Gyro had the honorable ability to shatter any and all remnants of peace that solitude could offer you; the silence was interrupted with the same violence as a bellbird squawking directly in your ear. And the space, by God, you were on the verge of collapse. Why did he think it would be a good idea to sit next to you on that narrow stair in the dark? If it had been in any other situation, with any other man, talking about anything else, it would have seemed comfortably romantic. But you didn't know if it was Gyro or absolutely everything that made you want to scream until your throat bled.  

''Hey!'' He called out to you when he saw you walking to the paddock again, getting up and walking right behind you.   

''For God's sake, what do you want?'' You stopped yourself from turning to him abruptly, because you knew you'd burst into tears the moment he saw your face. ''Why don't you go and bother Johnny, Lucy or anyone else?!''  

''What the hell are you talking about?'' He looked confused, even scared. His expression would crumble into two eyes pathetically bulging with astonishment. 

''You always have some stupid comment, something to annoy me. When you don't complain that I'm talking too much, you complain that I don't talk to anyone. You complain when I read too much, when I think too much, when I exist too much. Why did you come here anyway? To call me crazy and nothing else? Tell me something fucking new! Tell me something new!'' You had already lost control, and you no longer realized how loud you were shouting. ''You're not the first motherfucker to call me crazy, and you won't be the last! They paid me to go crazy in their place, they paid me to get sick in their place, and the only way I found to get rid of these motherfuckers was to get cursed! I'm cursed! I'm cursed, in cursed times, with cursed people, and you say it's time to rest?! With all the fucking resources it took me months to find the Devil's Palm and now that it's the only way home I have nothing! I have no trackers, I have no corpse, I have nothing!''  

It was then that he fell silent for too long. Long enough for you to turn around to make sure he hadn't left; ignoring the fact that he would see that you were crying. But there was Gyro's face, pale and shocked.   

You were tired, to say the least. You've seen it all and you could safely say that you were about to go through it all. You've seen your entire career and life goals shattered, you've felt the guilt of having ruined the lives of people who didn't deserve it, you've seen a near and bright future become distant and unreachable. You've seen your own cowardice. You have seen with your own eyes that the universe does have its hospice and you are in it. You've seen it, and now you know what's not waiting for you. There are no holidays, no promotions, no million-dollar deals, no Chandom, no compensation for lost sanity.   

There's no car waiting for you, no table reserved for you. Just another man calling you crazy. The little you had - a little wine that doesn't taste of vinegar, good music and a little money every end of the month - has been lost and there is no prospect of gain. There's no prospect of anything. If everything suddenly turned out to be a lie, if nothing was real, you wouldn't care. Actually, you would feel relieved.  

''Dear God, you could have just sent me to hell.'' He said, with no intention of scolding you.  

''Then go to hell, Gyro.'' You replied, crossing your arms after your futile effort to get rid of the tears. ''Go to hell and let me go crazy in peace, I don't need you reminding me all the time.''  

''Look...'' He began, a little embarrassed, but not wanting to apologize. ''I was just thinking that you might want to do something different tomorrow.'' 

''Too late.'' You said, rudely. ''Johnny already tried to take me into town. It was fun, but you can see it wasn't much help.''  

''I'm not looking for a solution to your problem, I'm just offering a distraction.'' He replied. ''So you don't spend the whole day thinking about how to get home. Thinking about the corpse and the Devil's Palm.'' 

''And how else am I supposed to find my way home? By going to London and entering a blue telephone box?'' 

''You're calming down, I can see that.'' He said, almost as if he thought it was funny. ''When you start saying things I don't understand, it's usually because you're well.''  

''What do you want, Gyro?'' You rushed him to conclude the offer.  

''Johnny said your friend convinced Lucy to raise chickens and we need a coop.'' He explained. ''Have you ever built anything before, mandorlina?''  

''You already know the answer. ''  

He chuckled.  

''Yes, I do. Don't worry, I'll help you. Would you like to hold some nails and hand me some tools?''  

For a moment, you thought how ironic that was. In your job, it was people who passed you tools and held things for you.  

''Fine.'' You took a deep breath. Do you even have a choice?

''Perfect. Then let's go inside, it's getting cold.''