#a bullet still embedded in the cave wall

[chapinii]

I wonder how bagi felt arriving at alcatraz, finally having a lead pan out after so long, only to find out that the man whose very name brings fear to half the prisoners inside, somebody who sounds so far from the gentle brother she remembers, was just 5 minutes out of her reach.

[lakemojave]

Land of Falling Sun 7

The wanderer was not confident that he was alone in the town.

By the time he and chipper and his horrible, ugly steed rode in, the fire at the center of town had mostly faded to embers. The bodies lay in the fire charred, dismembered, and unrecognizable. There were a little over a dozen still intact. The smell was repulsive this close.

By all accounts, looking around the dilapidated, dusty old town, it was clear it had been abandoned recently. It showed signs of degradation that must have taken place while it was still populated, and the amount of tracks leaving the town was minuscule compared to what its population would have been. The fire must have been burning for quite a while, maybe a few days, and whoever left must have added their last few dead to the pile before taking off.

“Plague.” The wanderer scanned the town in grim anticipation. “Taken by plague, no doubt. Only a few survivors. We shouldn’t stay long.”

“Why’s that?” Chipper asked? The wanderer shot them a deadpan gaze that communicated the silliness of the question. “Alright, alright. But I wanna look around. Maybe there’s something here we can use?”

“Maybe. Unlikely, but maybe. If we spend more than a day we should camp back the way we came. Least chance of catching anything.”

The wanderer’s eyes looked to a caving-in building, one of the most derelict of the bunch. He could make out the sheriff’s office sign, dangling from its bolts and a bad gust of wind away from falling to the ground. Maybe there’d be a weapon in there he could properly handle, maybe even some cash--if that was a thing people dealt in out here. Chipper drifted along the main avenue, scanning the town and the horizon. It had basic amenities, or at least the rotting corpse of basic amenities: trading post, inn, saloon, post office, mender’s shop, stable. What it seemed to have in abundance were barracks, mess tents, tool sheds, and what must’ve been a rather large infirmary. A working town of some kind, or possibly a military base.

Chipper flew a few lengths above the roofs as the wanderer peeked inside the sheriff’s office and hitched Dog outside. From this altitude, they could see on the south and north edges of town what must’ve been the work sites.

Scaffolds and rigs, enormous and collapsed and scattered across the site. Cranes and cart tracks left in utter ruin. All surrounding deep and tremendous holes in the ground, boring deep into the earth. Their walls were hewn smooth, cylindrical, and narrow enough for a dozen or so people to comfortably stand in, as though dug by great drills which were not there. Chipper’s thoughts went to mining, but that made no sense. If anyone wanted to mine the plateau for resources of any value, they’d dig from its sides and base. That’s what would’ve made sense. No, they were trying to dig deep into the earth, to descend into something or some place beneath their feet.

Before they could ponder why or what, they heard shouting below.

-----

“You! Inside! Get out here!”

The wanderer reached for a rusty sawed off shotgun and crouched behind a fallen desk. The voice outside was sharp and feminine, with a distinct raspy and venomous timbre that was distinctly nonhuman. It reminded him of Dog.

“Hey! I can hear you in there!”

He had barely made a sound, save for shuffling his feet. He needed to get out safely, and couldn’t risk a fight. He didn’t know where Chipper was, the number of fellas outside, or the weapons to their name. He tucked the shotgun in his pants behind his back, flipped his coat down, and stood up with his hands above his head.

“Relax!” he shouted outside. “I’m coming out! Don’t shoot ok?”

The woman outside paused. “We’ll see.” She spat.

The wanderer stepped outside the dilapidated office to meet five armed, insectoid strangers. Centaurs, naturally. The woman at front stood tall on her scorpion-like lower half, gritting her teeth behind vestigial mandibles. The shade of her hat obscured her second pair of eyes, which were as hollow and unforgiving as her first. She held a repeater trained directly on his chest. Between her companions were two pistols, a shotgun, and a wooden staff.

“You armed?”

He flipped his coat to reveal his knife, sheathed and strapped to his belt.

She pointed at the knife. “Drop that. now.”

“Do I gotta?” His eyes darted around. “You got me beat I think.” They unhitched Dog, who was now a few paces down the street to the left. “I mean--” Through his periphery he saw Chipper circling overhead, barely distinguishable from a desert vulture. “--I guess if it makes you feel better.” He reached for his belt with one hand, his other still up.

Damn, he thought, Kid’s smart.

“Hey. Fox,” the lead woman said to the pistol-armed man behind her, “Pat him down.”

The wanderer sighed. “Look man, that ain’t necessary.”

Fox hissed back: “You started it. This is our spot.”

“If ya wanna be technical I think it’s theirs’.” He gestured towards the bonfire as Fox approached. He had two heads on the wanderer as he skittered closer. Wanderer glanced to Dog, then to Chipper, then back to Fox. Fox reached under the wanderer’s coat, his rough hand approaching the stashed shotgun.

The wanderer whistled.

The gang readied their weapons to shoot. Fox flinched, giving the wanderer a window. He grabbed Fox’s hand, yanked him closer, then flipped off his coat over Fox’s head, blinding him. Fox shot off his revolver, which missed and hit a post behind the wanderer, who pulled out of his coat into his shirt and vest. The gang leader took a hasty, reckless shot at the wanderer, which Fox kindly blocked.

While the shotgun guy and pistol gal were readying their shots, they were quickly taken down by surprise. On command, Dog came charging down the street, leaping to shotgun guy and trampling him quickly. Pistol gal yelped in surprise at Dog, failing to notice Chipper divebombing straight for her throat. They descended on her violently and slashed her throat open in her talons, and Dog took a bite out of shotgun guy’s head.

Fox’s body fell dead to the ground, leaving the wanderer without his meat shield. With the staff man occupied with Dog and Chipper, the wanderer was stuck with the leader. He made a dive to the right, grabbing his knife belt and narrowly avoiding another shot. Now behind cover, he reached for the shotgun and prayed. He leapt up and made a shot.

He was incredibly lucky he shot with his right arm, otherwise the explosion might have permanently maimed him. Instead, the gun’s misfire sent a layer of tar splattering the surrounding area, and launching the wanderer to the wall behind him. The leader missed another shot.

Staff man, who we’ll call magic man instead, quickly drew his hand along the length of his staff. As he did this, the upper half of the staff became bathed in wild, arcing lightning. He held the lightning staff in his hand like an ax, and charged forward to strike Chipper down. As he wound back for a swing, Chipper held their wings back, and their outer feathers came alight. He swung the ax, which would have sent a bolt of lightning up into the air, striking Chipper and killing them instantly. Instead, with a flap of their wings, it launched backwards towards magic man, riding up to his hands and electrocuting him dead on the spot.

The leader was enraged. As she continuously missed her shots she approached the wanderer, who lay on his back on the deck of the sheriff’s office. Panicked and without the shotgun, he drew his knife and crawled backwards. Now the leader stood over him, training her rifle on his forehead. The wanderer futilely held out the knife in self defense. She cocked the rifle, and Chipper and Dog snapped to her and hurried to stop her.

“You...You bastard!” She yelled. “Die! You rotten little--”

She took her shot. The wanderer brought the knife to his defense.

What exactly he planned, or what instinct compelled him to try and block her shot with a very regular knife of all things, was completely beyond him. But he did, and as he snapped the knife to his face--with the edge facing his attacker--he felt something. It was not the sensation of a bullet entering his skull and exiting the back of his brain. No, it was the knife. It was not the feeling of the knife in his hand, not the wood grain against his hands or the weight of the blade. No, he felt through the knife, as though it were an extension of himself. He felt it pulse as though blood ran through it, and he felt it glide through the air just the same as wind passing over his arm. When the bullet passed through the knife, splitting in two pieces and embedding into the deck beneath him, the pain was excruciating. Excruciating, but completely unharmed and alive.

He and the gang leader shared a shocked and confused look, neither able to comprehend what hand just took place. The wanderer lowered the knife. The leader raised her gun again.

The wanderer threw the blade, which embedded itself in her heart. She collapsed on her back.

-----

“Are you...are you ok?”

“I uh,” the wanderer said, sitting up where he had just laid, “I think so...I have no idea.”

“You are unharmed,” said Dog, in the wanderer’s mind. “You are shaken to your core by what you have just experienced, but physically you are well.”

“Thanks bud,” said the wanderer, short of breath and sarcastic. “Can always count on you.” He wiped sweat from his brow. “...Actually, thank you. For the assist. You guys saved my ass.”

“Of course we did! We’re a team!” Chipper was alight with pride and adventurous spirit. Behind the wanderer, they saw the split bullet holes in the deck. On the right was a normal dent in the wood. On the left though, Chipper could not explain. They saw, sprouting from the bullet hole, were tiny weeds, green and fresh and full of life.

“Sir,” Dog said, “I hear someone coming.”

[antman-56]

Nothing is Free

That was somethin.

Deep in a labyrinth of a cave Qrow said muttered to himself.

He just finished a Oz’s latest mission. A spider Grimm has been terrorizing a near by village. He didn’t know why he sent him here. I mean sure the place was isolated from Vale and the thing was dangerous. Hell he almost got hit with the webbing the thing shot at.

He watched as the thing started to disintegrate.

“Alright, time to go back and report what I found.” He mentally listed.

As he was walking back the way he came he began to reflect on what has happened over the last 2 weeks, before he was sent here. Oh Gods, where to start.

Raven had left. 

We first thought is was a mission but Tai said she went back to the tribe and tried to bring him and Yang with her. That pissed me off. The tribe doesn't know how to raise a kid I mean he can speak from experience.

Two days after that she portals to me after my mission and says I need to stop ‘pretending’ and go back to my true ‘family’. We fought and it was bloody. She left muttering that I would regret leaving. I dragged myself over to Tai’s place and lied that some bandits jumped me on my mission.

Sum moved in to take care of Yang and Tai cause Tai was in depression. 

Didn’t think it was serious till I saw him with a gun to his head. Summer will never know and doesn’t need to.

Oz brought Glynda on board with the whole Salem thing.

And now here he was in some cave, off the coast of someplace that he didn’t even know existed, and killing weird grimm.

He was just reaching the entrance of the cave and could tell by the smell of the ocean. God he could eat something.

As he reached the entrance 3 figures made their appearance.

The one on the right was a bald girl faunus with scales. She wore a white black shirt with a bandolier  with a single shoulder guard and black jeans with knee pads. Her weapon looked like a battle axe. 

The middle one had her hair dyed blue and green split between the middle. She had two revolvers out pointed at Qrow. She wore a white shirt that showed a little cleavage, the holsters for her guns behind her back and another belt wrapped around left thigh.

The third one had long red hair and a regular sword pulled out of the sheath on her back. She wore leather armor which was kind of unusual for a bandit.

“So, this is the deserter.” She said the middle one and with added disgust on the last word.

“Sure is sis. The one that thinks he’s better than us.” The one with the axe spoke.

Qrow took out Harbinger and readied himself.

“Your probably wondering how we got here.”

“Well, normally people say who they are.”

“Well, isn’t it obvious who we are.”

“Yeah. Nobody leaves.”

“Well then. You know what comes next right.”

Qrow rushed at the one in the middle as she let out a barrage of bullets.

Qrow blocked them and continued to close the distance until an axe blocked him.

He just stopped before the blade hit his neck. Unfortunately for him, the red head took her turn to attack and was relentless. She refused to let him catch his breath and to Qrow her fighting style seemed familiar.

He doesn’t have time to remember why that is. He sees the faunus with the battle axe charge at him. He quickly parries the red head’s next attack and transforms Harbinger into a gun. 

As soon as he readies his shot he felt one of the bullets from the 2 hair colored girl. He stumbled back and the faunus girl began her attack.

“Bree be more careful. He almost got you.”

Her strikes were predictable. They did have strength behind them but he didn’t want to figure out if she was stronger than she looked. For now evade and wait for her to tire herself out. 

A bullet whizzed passed his head. 

“Great she’s providing support.” he mental grumbled.

The bullets stopped after awhile her aim was horrible and the amount she fired would take awhile to reload.

“Fuck I need to reload. Charlie go down their help her it’s going to take me awhile.”

She nodded and did as she was told.

Bree last strike ended with her getting her axe stuck to the wall of the cave.

Their was his opening. Qrow went for it and Bree looked like a deer in headlights. 

Qrow was strike was blocked by the red head’s blade. She appeared to be struggling holding his blade back. And too her dismay it was oblivious.

Qrow pushed his blade more and  it resulted in her being pushed away from her friend and onto the floor. She began to crawl backwards away from Qrow until her back hit the cave’s wall.

Bree abandoned the axe went after Qrow.

As she went for a punch him Qrow turned to see it and side stepped. And in that split second brought his sword up and cut her right hand off.

As Bree stared at her stump of an arm, she couldn’t make a sound.

“BREEEE!!!!” The red head screamed. 

She unsheathed a small gun from her left wrist and fired.

The last thing Bree saw was her friends shocked face before she felt a flow of blood come off from her forehead.

Qrow watched his now deceased would-be amateur assassin hit the floor and back at her partner that killed her.

“You missed.”

“I”LL KILL YOU!!!” She got up and began revenge fueled fury.

Qrow just saw her striking blindly. All he did was block, parry and/or push her away till she got tired.

When she went to strike him Qrow grabbed the hilt of the sword and with his shoulder pushed her off the blade.

She looked up with tear filled eyes to meet his red ones.

He held his blade on his right hand and hers on his left.

She closed her eyes and looked down. She accepted her death. 

Qrow looking at this knew what he had to do. He kneed her in the head and she dropped like a sack of potatoes. She was unconscious, head would hurt like hell but overall alive.

“YOU BASTARD!!!”

He turned to see the blue/green hair girl with her guns pointed at him. All he could do was turn his head and see her pull the trigger.

BANG

Qrow covered his eyes by instinct and felt no pain beside some ear damage. The girl no soo much.

The girls right hand was gone along with her eyesight from what Qrow could tell. Some shrapnel embedded in her face and throat. 

She was dead before she hit the floor.

Qrow let out a breath at the loss of life. 

“SO THIS IS WHAT YOUR GOING TO DO!?!? HUH?!?! HUH?!?! HAVE OTHER PEOPLE DO YOUR DIRTY WORK?!?! KNOWING I’M NOT GOING TO KILL THEM!!” 

He took a couple deep breaths.

“You bastard.” He turned to still see his would be the only survivor.

He was about to make his way back to the entrance till he heard some gravel shuffling. 

“Kill me.” He turned to meet the weak voice. The red headed girl was waking up but refusing to look up to meet his gaze.

“Consider yourself lucky. I don’t like killing.”

“Then what about my friends?” She said with rage.

“You shot her and her gun exploded.” He said pointing at each body.

“You cut Bree’s arm off!”

“Yeah I was going to say sorry about that, but you shot her before I could talk.”

“Then kill me then. I failed to do my mission and failure is not an option for the tribe.”

“Why did he send you?”

“Cause she believed we were the best.”

“She?” He thought.

“Raven. What would happen if you go back?”

“She’ll kill me. Horribly!! First humiliation, then torture, then dying slowly on grad display for everyone to see.” She said horrified. 

Qrow was speechless. Has she lost her damn mind!!

“Failure is a fate worse than death.”

Qrow looked at her and see the slight trembles. What has she been doing over there.

“Do you know why I left?”

She looked up.

“Cause of shit like that. The chief before her would rape, pillage, kill, and do whatever that made a profit without hesitation. And punishment if you failed to make him happy was a game for him. I thought that was what a family was. Gods was I wrong. I found what a family was and it is nothing like that. Warm meals, hugs, and someone to hold at night. God I sound like a cheap romance novel.”

“But if she catches you-”

“If. If she dose. And she never will cause I have something she doesn't.”

“What?”

“A reason to keep going. Leave here and find yours.”

With that he left her. He may be going soft but it was a good thing. Summer showed him people can change. I mean he was a good example.

Maybe. Just maybe she’ll take it.

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 1: Preying in the dark (Part 2)

Warnings: murder, blood and violence

Author notes: the second part is out! You can read part 1 here!

The night was heavy, tensed. The ambient silence was deafening, oppressive. Had I not heard people's miserable thoughts, the atmosphere would have been awfully quiet. At such times, the slums of Yokohama were the stage of numerous illicit exchanges — drugs, mostly, but also humans — and muffled violence. In that place, where breathing could burn one's lungs with poverty, a fight gone wrong, a drunken man attempting rape on a poor lost girl or the assassination of any notorious man running away in that kind of remote place were common, and completely mute. There would seldom be a cry, a scream, some laughter, but nothing could ever pierce the curtain of stillness draped over the shallows. It was on nights particularly well lightened up by a full moon that the thieves gangs usually made a move.

Swiftly, with a band I had been given to avoid lice upon my arrival, I tied my hair in a neat ponytail. Then, from under the thin blanket a thief had offered me as a welcome gift, I grabbed the handle of a small dagger, a weapon I had bought with the little money I had earned from my first robbery, and hung it at my belt. Thanks to rags and scraps of fabric I had found, I had managed to make myself clothes, or rather, I had repaired my own, which had suffered from numerous holes and usury. I took a deep breath and went out of the shack made of plastic I lived in, pulling the hood of my dark cloak over my head to hide my face, then reached the group of burglars who had kindly welcomed me among them when I had been wandering without a place to go. I had been taught the ways of the slums, the ways of our peculiar work, in that underground world. Surely, we did not eat everyday, but that place felt warmer to me than the luxurious mansion I had grown up in. The money we earned by stealing whether honest or not people was redistributed among children, younger than me, to contribute to feeding them. For the sake of defending myself and with the purpose of helping out during missions in mind, the thieves had also taught me how to use a knife to fight, and how to use any kind of pin to pick up a lock easily and discreetly. Gradually, I had improved my agility and strength, despite being chronically weakened by the effects of my ability. Nevertheless, these people had not given up on me and had even given me a chance to be part of their gang. I was grateful that they had not thrown me away like my parents had, and had decided to dedicate myself to their cause. This evening, we were heading to a jewellery they had been keeping an eye on for months. After countless hours of observation, they had reconstituted the schedule of the owner, and had found the perfect time to hit and steal as much jewels as possible. I was to accompany them, and could not hide my excitement as I followed them in the alleys. It would be my first real robbery, not a mere pickpocketing in the streets or a grocery theft, no. A real robbery of a jewellery. If everything went as planned, we would be very rich in an hour or so.

We arrived in front of the shop. As expected, the streets were deserted, people were sleeping and, mostly, there was no camera. In such a fancy shop, there should have been a device or two, yet... None. That detail should have caught my attention, but all impatient I was, I did not listen to my consciousness advising to be careful. I had the honour of picking up the lock of the shop and, fingers trembling in anticipation, opened the door to the Aladdin's cave to reveal showcases futilely protecting brightly shining diamonds and gems of all sorts. The cases were quickly opened and the jewels were shoved into our bags within a blink, without any resistance. Again, we should have been concerned about the lack of alarm and surveillance cameras, but could one blame us, poor and miserable humans putting our hands onto unimaginable riches for the first time? Already, the prospect of a better life was building inside my creative mind, and, overwhelmed by the joyful and exhilarating feeling of being wealthy, we made our way out of the jewellery. For once, I could understand, somehow, why greed had blinded the parents who had given birth to me. Money could make one absolutely intoxicated, addicted, and any human could go to any extent to obtain the holy boodle. I was the last one of the group and, wanting to make sure we had not forgotten anything, I stayed back a minute in the shop. It had been the brightest idea of the night.

Ripping apart the silence of the night, the infernal buzzing of machine guns erupted in the street and the deathly ballet of bullets took my companions' lives, accompanied by a choir of screeching screams. I had not heard anyone's thoughts. That useless ability of mine had not even detected the trap we had fallen into. Heart painfully thumping against my rib cage, I dashed toward the back of the shop and squeezed myself in between brooms, mops and cleaning products. In a desperate attempt to calm down my breathing, I clasped my two hands onto my mouth — a rather practical move which prevented me from crying as well.

"Take a look inside so we don't let a vermin escape." A poised voice ordered "It's too bad they had no brains. Trying to steal from a shop under the protection of the Port Mafia... Did they think we would not notice them observing us?"

I understood. The lack of surveillance cameras and the reason why no alarm had rung during our deeds... It was because, from the beginning, the shop had been watched by dogs of the Port Mafia, a notorious underground organisation. From the beginning, we had been destined to be suppressed...

"To think I could be with my wife and kids..." A man grumbled, entering the back room "Damn thieves..."

I prayed for him not to open the closet where I was hidden. If he were to find me... If he were to find me, my short life would end... Or perhaps I could beg for them to spare me...? To which cost, however...? Footsteps got closer to me and I closed my eyes, biting down onto my hands not to let out a sob which would betray my position. The door to the closet suddenly moved. His hand was set onto the knob, and he was about to open it, when...

His phone rang. With an annoyed groan, he picked up his call and stepped away from the closet. My heart was beating erratically as he assured his wife he would go home soon and I could not help a sigh from escaping my lips as he finally walked out. Was I safe...? I had been incredibly lucky to escape unscathed... Surely, I could not indulge in such dangerous activities anymore. Despite living in utmost misery, I cared about being alive and being disfigured by a machine gun was not on the top of my list of ways to die.

"Let's move on if there is no one left." The same voice as earlier demanded.

Still trembling, I sneaked out of the closet, then out of the shop to step outside, in the streets. The moon seemed to be staring down at me, terrifying, like the single eye of a cyclops, and, mimicking a spotlight pointed onto actors, showed me the terrible sight of the thieves' corpses. I covered my mouth, fearing I would throw up in disgust in front of the viscous scarlet blood oozing from the gross piles of fresh flesh. I retched as the particularly repulsive stench of decomposing bodies reached my nose and I stepped away, feeling nauseous.

Time stopped when a gunshot echoed in my back.

"Well, well, well... What do we have here? More than a vermin, it rather looks like a frightened bunny. Looks like I was right to stay back... Because I love hunting~"

I froze, unable to budge a single muscle. I could not get my body to run and remained, absolutely stunned and feet embedded in the ground, as the man walked toward me, slowly, menacingly. He appeared in my field of view, suddenly, his large coat floating around his thin body, and pointed his gun toward my forehead.

"Worry not. It will be a painless death." His voice wanted to be reassuring despite the mocking tone he used.

I ducked. The barrel of his weapon was still letting smoke out from his shot, and, luckily, I had regained some control over my body.

"Hoh...~ Persistent much...~?"

I did not let him time to savour the vision of his prey desperately trying to stay alive and ran past him, bumping into him purposely to make him lose his balance in an attempt to gain some precious seconds to escape.

Following nothing but my survival instinct, I ran away from him, epinephrine rushing through my vessels to guide my legs in the back alleys of Yokohama, in between dirty and greyish walls, all the way back to the slums, where I lived. I was panting when I finally reached my shack and immediately glanced over my shoulder to see if he had been able to follow me. No one. All of my stress suddenly dropped, bringing me to the ground as I broke into tears, too happy to be alive and to have escaped from the mafioso. Despite the thieves' death, despite the failed robbery, despite my ability taking the better of my mind, the only emotion I could feel was the deep relief of being able to see the next day's sunrise.

Upon hearing about the events which had occurred during the robbery, the remaining members of the gang had decided to chase me from the group to guarantee both my and their safety. They had also advised me to look for a shack in another part of the slums, just in case the mafioso would still be looking for me, and had wished me luck to survive. Once again, I had nowhere to go anymore... The new shack I had taken was barely bigger than my previous one; at least, I could stretch my legs while sleeping. I had lost my occupation and the place I thought I could belong to, all because we had been too careless. I sighed, staring at the wall made of plastic. What could I do? How would I occupy my days, and, mostly, how would I survive? My headache was worsening as the days passed, and I was aware that fatigue would slowly kill me if an infectious disease did not. I wanted to live, yet I did not know how to. It was simpler to die. At the very least, surrounded by eternal darkness, I would not need to wonder about means to keep myself alive. However, I did not wish to end my time in that world just yet. I wanted to try and experience life. Only, it seemed life did not want me to experience it. Determined, I decided to wander around the city during the day. Perhaps would I be able to steal one or two wallets from distracted tourists, which would be better than starving. With renewed vigour, I left my shack and headed to the centre of Yokohama.

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[onedoesnotsimplywriteafanfic]

Reunited at last (5/6)

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4

After exploring the old ruins that was were streets. It was a long lost dream to find this place and here I was. I wasn’t suppose be there on the hill of the mountain, but I was. Rafe had yet another meeting with Nadine and her men and he didn’t want me their, with the excuse it was way to boring for me and I could use that time exploring the building. So that was what I did. I explored and figured it all out.

Walking trough history, thats how it felt. Everything was just like it had been left behind after what looked like a huge fight, some could call it a war. Bodies where spread over the clearing, canons, weapons and barricades could be found.  It was unclear who’s battle it was and what they where fighting for.

Making my way inside the bloodshed had continued, who ever the battle was between had made their way inside.  Big golden looking doors, three times bigger than that I was, kept me from entering, what I only believed to be, the treasure room. A lever on my left was my way in. I pulled it towards me and a heavy mechanism could be heard starting to work.

Only it was for a little while before it stopped, doors still closed. With a groan I walked over to the door and pushed it with all my wight. It took a lot of effort but I manged to open the doors by force. My believes where right, this room used to be a treasure or trophy room, only this one was empty.

It was hard to imagine what had taken place hundred years ago but I had my ideas. By the looks of the state this room was left in, Avery had already taking his treasure elsewhere. Along the walls almost life sized paintings hung portraying the pirates. Avery, Tew all the founders of Libertalia.

They were all marked with the word ‘’Thief’’ meaning the treasure was already gone by the time the citizens had fought their ways in. Looking around the room for further clues I found the last peace of the puzzle. It was so small most would have missed it, but not me.

A map was painted on the sealing, it was barely visible because most of the roof was missing. But it was there. It showed a small town named ‘’New Devon’’ inhabited by seven large mansions. One for each pirate of Avery’s crew.

Smiling to myself, proud of my findings, I found myself calling for Nate. ‘’Nate, I figur,-’’ I cut my self off mid sentence, realizing Nate wasn’t here. In that moment of happiness I longed for my best friend. I should have been here with them, with Nate and my father.

Gunshots pulled me back to reality. It sounded far away but not the less it caught my attention. In a haze I looked for a way out. It took me way more time then I had anticipated and by the time I found a way outside the sound of a gun fight had stopped.

Now standing on top of a watch tower I looked around in the hope to locate the source of the fight. But what I found was more disturbing. Shoreline men filled my few, weapons drawn. Panic filled my body and the only thing on my mind was that I needed to get the hell out of here.

Making my way down was difficult because the tower was about to collapse. Running as fast as my legs could carry me I made my way down. Just before the tower collapsed I jumped to the roof of a nearby building.

My body wasn’t used to these kinds of shenanigans any more, so the safest way was the ground. No more jumping buildings. More shots filled the air and sometimes I needed to duck to prevend myself from getting shot.

In the distance I saw Rafe running inside a gave with some of the Shoreline soldiers. I followed him and waited till I got close to make my presence known. I ran out to a small clearing leading to a ravine. ‘’Rafe!’’ I called out. All eyes where now on me and so were most of there guns. ‘’Rafe?’’ I called out again, this time with my hands in the air.

Looking around the group I saw Nate and Nadine who was held captive by someone I couldn't see its face of. The man holding Nadine shifted slightly in its place making it able for me to see his face. My eyes grew bigger from confusion. ‘’Sam?’’ My voice was shaking, my mind making over hours. ‘’I told you to stay away.’’ Rafe spatted at me. A low growl could be heard leaving Sams throat.

Snapping my attention to Rafe I spat back at him. ‘’Excuse me?’’ I was still being hold at gun point but I ignored them. With anger in his eyes Rafe took a step towards me. Trying to hold my ground I stayed put. Locking my eyes with his I looked for answers. ‘’You knew, didn’t you.’’ I asked bluntly not giving him time to talk. ‘’You knew, all this time he was alive?!’’ I felt a white rage burning in my stomach and my anger got the best of me.  

Waiting for him to confirm my theory I kept my eyes locked on his. ‘’Of course, who else did you thought broke him out for a second time.’’ Without thinking I swing my arm back and connected it with his jaw. Through the force of the impact Rafe stumbled back. By only one sign, one of the Shoreline soldiers grabbed me and put his gun to my temple.  

The safety of a gun being pulled back could be heard, coming from Sam, still holding Nadine. ‘’Let her go Sam, or she dies.’’ pointing at me Rafe kept his vision at Sam. ‘’No.’’ Sam said trough gridded teeth. ‘’Don’t make me ask again, sam.’’ A threatening hint was visible in his voice.

Nate who kept watching until now made a move no one expected. It all happened in a second. Nate moved towards his brother and unarmed him so Nadine could step free. ‘’Now let her go, Rafe.’’ Nate said trowing the gun away. ‘’I can’t quite do that yet, Nathen. I still need her.’’ Anger kept boiling up inside of me.

I lowered my head towards my chest before I yanked it back, making contact with the nose of my captor. He let me go to grab his now bloody now. Kicking the gun out of his hand sending it flying. ‘’I am done helping you, Rafe.’’ I spat my words out, filled with poison.  

A cynical laugh left his lips. ‘’I don’t think so princess. You and your not so dead boyfriend over there are going to lead me to Avery’s treasure.’’ With his pistol raised at Sam, he shot daggers at me. ‘’To bad I don’t know where it is.’’ I lied, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly.

He wasn’t to happy with my answer. ‘’Then you better figure it out, fast, or els.’’ He threatened me. ‘’Please, I am sure we can figure something out, make a deal, find it together.’’ it was Nate he broke the silence. ‘’There is nothing to figure out. I only need one or two of you.’’ His gun shifted from Sam to Nate. ‘’No!’’ Sam and I yelled in unison. But it was to late, Rafe had pulled the trigger.

Sam jumped in front of Nate to take the bullet but it hit him in the shoulder. It was a trough and trough and it launched itself in Nate, who fell backwards to the edge, eventually falling over leaping to his faith.

The build up anger that i’ve been collecting inside bursted, I launched myself towards Rafe. One of the Shoreline men grabbed me but without luck. In a second I had disarmed him and held him under gunpoint with his own gun. ‘’Tell your men to stand down and no one gets hurt.’’ I threw a quick glance at Rafe. ‘’And who is going to hurt them, you?’’ wrong answer.

Pulling the safety back and pulled the trigger I shot the man in his back. Dead. ‘’Yes, me.’’ with an empty look in my eyes I looked at Rafe. Sam watched me from his position on the ground. An amused and proud look spread across his lips.

A vein on Rafe’s forehead was about to burst so much anger was he carrying. ‘’Maybe I only need one of you.’’ Rafe said coldly and pulled the trigger. The bulled embedded itself in my torso, falling to the ground immediately. Faintly in the distance I could hear Sam’s voice but I couldn’t figure out what he was saying.

One by one Rafe and his people left the cliff, dragging Sam with them. Leaving me to die. But one thing Rafe forgot, he doesn’t get rid of me that easily. What felt like hours I woke up.  My body felt stiff and everything hurts.

Weakly I made my way trough the cave to the shore. My last hope for survive was my dad. He owned this ridiculous old aircraft that could land on water.

Nearing the shore I saw the outlines of the aircraft, with the last strength I had in me I screamed for my dad. ‘’DAD!’’ limping closer to the water I tried again. ‘’Dad!’’ I hadn’t much strength in me left, but it was just enough for him to hear me.

For a second time I lost conscious. The next time I woke up I laid in the plain all patched up. ‘’Dad?’’ I asked silently, slightly in panic. ‘’I am here, doll.’’ I heard my father say over the sound of the plain. ‘’We are getting Nate and Elena at the north side of the island.’’ By hearing Nate’s name I shot up from my laying position. ‘’He is alive?!’’ I could barely believe it.

A tension filled the air followed by a deafening silence until I broke it. ‘’I know about Sam.’’ My dad looked at me quickly over his shoulder. ‘’Sweetheart, I am so,’’ he started but I stopped him. ‘’I understand Dad. You did it to protect me and because the whole thing with Rafe.’’

The flight was short, we landed near the shore and waited for Nate and Elena. Loud explosion could be heard in the distance. Getting closer and closer by the second. An armored car seemed to be chasing something or someone.

In horror I saw who the car was chasing, Nate. ‘’Dad, it’s Nate!’’ But my dad was already on the case and shot an RPG at the car, making it stuck on a wall. ‘’Trow me the RPG!’’ Nate yelled and my father did what he asked.

We helped Nate up de wall after the car was taken care of. Without giving him time to react I embraced him tightly. ‘’I thought you were dead.’’ I breathed in his chest, slightly crying. ‘’Me too.’’ He whispered back. 

After breaking apart I looked for Elena. ‘’Where is Elena?’’ and right after the words left my mouth she came running towards us. ‘’Hey.’’ She said before embracing each other. ‘’Hey.’’ he said back. ‘’How are you doing?’’ My father asked. ‘’Im doing good, some close calls but,’’ She stepped away from us to look at the ruins. ‘’He covered me.’’ And walking out of the ruins came Sam.

Part 6 

Masterlist

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer II: Chapter 3: Sons of Raj

“You’re not bad!” Robertson passed me the basketball. 

I caught it easily, dribbling in place. “I’m used to people being taller than me, it comes with the territory of being short.”

I wasn’t supposed to be outside, but I’d made so much headway on the translation project, that I could afford a day off. Ielia rapidly corrected EVA’s errors and clarified context. We were more than halfway through and it had only been ten days. 

The tale was an epic one. An Indian warrior who was strong and deadly, but wise and compassionate so that he gathered a huge following and spread his rule throughout the land of India. His name was Raj Yamir. The text praised him for his handsomeness, his humility, and his intelligence. The entire text seemed to be about him.

Master List

Robertson made sure everything was safe, before allowing me outside where he’d jerry-rigged a hoop on a tall oak tree.

“You play basketball with Johann yet?”  He asked.

“Yeah a bit, but,” I wrinkled my nose. “He’s too nervous to be competitive so… it’s not very fun.”

Robertson laughed. “You understand though. Can’t get too rough with your girlfriend out on the court.”

“Yeah well, that means we don’t play.” I put the ball under my arm, sticking out my tongue. “I play with Lu. He’s not as good though.”

Robertson looked up at the hoop, running his hands through his hair in nostalgia. “Yeah, me and Tianjiao Chu used to play all the time, all the time.” He wiped his brow. “He ain’t as good as his dad, that’s for sure.”

“You knew his dad?” I caught my breath, not expecting this.

“Oh yeah! Me and Chu go way back!” He knitted his brow.

“Hold the phone! Tell me! Tell me! What was his dad like?” I ran up to him.

“He was like Johann… but more fun. Guy liked Irish music, sappy ol’ movies. Serious about his work but … not much else. Dude was hilarious.” He laughed at a memory I couldn’t see. “In fact, Lemme show you somethin’”

We went to go sit on a concrete bench. He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled for a while through it. “Ah… here it is. Here’s your boy.”

As soon as I took a look at it, I inhaled sharply. It was Johann as a child in a beanie and little mittens and coat, looking overjoyed at a snowman. “It’s a baby JOHANN!” I squealed, snatching the phone. “He’s so CUTE! OH MY GOD!”

Robertson was cackling at my reaction. I couldn’t help myself. “Look at his cheeks! And his cute little smile. Awwwwwwww! He’s cuuuute!” He looked at Robertson, holding the phone to myself. “Can you send this to me? Please?! Please?! I won’t show it to anyone else!”

“Sure… sure, sure, sure…” His chuckle turned mischievous.

I handed him his phone back. “Johann said you were with the Executive Department for a long time but I did not put two and two together that you worked with his dad!” I looked up at him. “He had a lot of good things to say about you.”

He blinked down at me.

“I mean, Johann did. I didn’t know his dad.”

“Oh… right…” He cleared his throat. “Uh… Do you have any questions for me?”

“We don’t… talk about our parents very much. I know his dad died.”

He sent the picture to my device. “Yeah, I was really shocked about that. The man was unbelievable with a blade. Super experienced. So… it really caught me off guard. Even after all these years. Can’t quite believe it.”

“What happened is… probably classified.”

“Very.” He gave me wide eyes. “But… I can tell you. Johann was there when it did.”

“He saw it happen.” I whispered, my brain imagined what it must have been like, empathy growing in my heart, along with my horror. 

“My only thought is… whatever happened, Tianjiao probably had to put himself in an impossible situation to save his boy… that’s all I could think of that would make sense.”

I turned away. That made a lot of sense. I didn’t know all the circumstances, but it reminded me of a lot of children in foster whose parents died, or nearly died of overdoses. Even though they were young and they were unaware of their parents’ deadly habits, they blamed themselves for what happened. Johann couldn’t be any different.

Indeed, I blamed myself occasionally for my Robbie’s death, for skipping too far into the future and not being there to save him. It was ridiculous, but that was just the way the mind worked.

“Thank you for telling me.”

He moved to pocket his phone when it buzzed. He held it to his ear. “Robertson.” He stood up. “Carli, go to the saferoom. Now!”

His commanding voice jolted me and I stood there a second, registering the sudden urgency in his voice.

I ran inside, shoving the door open so hard it swung into the wall with a bang. I ran upstairs to retrieve the laptop.

The safe room was an underfloor bunker that was resistant to all forms of scanning and explosive devices and had enough food for three days. It also had two wall mounted monitors patched into the camera equipment outside.

The property was being swarmed in broad daylight by a dozen masked motorcyclists. They were armed with automatic rifles. The images cycled and I saw Agent Lavigne standing there to meet them, two dead men at his feet. He was wearing what appeared to be a blue bandana around his neck.

EVAs voice emerged from the monitors. “Agent Lavigne has gone rogue. You are not safe here.”

I saw Robertson jogging around the large house. He was going to Lavigne. My blood ran cold. He didn’t know.  

I focused on the monitor image of Lavigne. I stood up. I closed my eyes.

I vanished into the dark. 

When I emerged, Lavigne was standing over the bodies of his two fellow agents, raising his automatic rifle towards Robertson. He recognized my presence from the corner of his eye and turned to point the gun at me, but it was too late. I pushed him with everything in me.

But he only staggered. 

He smashed the rifle into my chest. I felt the strange sensation of something inside me caving under the blow. I fell to the ground, breathless, nauseous, pain like fireworks going off. I wrapped my arms around myself, gasping.

Robertson was roaring, firing his pistol. But the bullets embedded in a wall of thick water, like jelly. It splashed to the ground, taking the bullets with it. Robertson ducked behind the corner of the building. The other gunmen had arrived.

Lavigne turned his cold, golden eyes on me. On his bandana, I saw a clear symbol of a serpent, forming the letter S followed by an R.

I squeezed my eyes shut and vanished. I appeared again, staggering with the agony, where Robertson was hiding. He looked at me, stunned. I couldn’t talk to tell him how I could do this. I grabbed his hand. I vanished with him into the dark.

We re-emerged into the hotel room I had stayed in, the one Anjou had booked for me. Fortunately, it was empty. I collapsed to the floor, raising my voice in anguish. Crying hurt, breathing hurt. But I couldn’t stop doing either.

Robertson held me down, swearing repeatedly.  He still had his phone which he dialed cradling it between his ear and shoulder. He ripped my flimsy shirt down the middle, examining my injuries.

“Schneider, we’ve been compromised. Lavigne was a traitor. Meixiu was injured. Looks to be two… maybe three broken ribs.”

A pause.

“Sir. I’m not one to make excuses but she popped out of thin air and tried to tackle the guy!”

His eyes were glittering with fury. “I told you to go to the safe room…” He hissed at me. But that was the extent of the scolding. He immediately calmed. I’d saved his life and he knew it.

“We’re… in a hotel. Sir. I…” He fought for words. “...again, I don’t know. You don’t know she can teleport? Well she can!” He looked at me. “Where are we…?”

“I can’t remember... “ I sobbed and moaned at the same time. 

He stood up and left me. I heard him reading off the name of the hotel. He returned, still on the phone, picking me up and settling me on the bed. “It’s just a matter of time before someone finds out we’re here. I’ll put a notice on the Night Watch to get this room.”

“She’s in a lot of pain. We need to get a doctor here before someone comes in asking too many questions.”

After a few more moments, he hung up. He regarded me, kneeling next to me. I held my breath, tears rolling from my eyes.

I felt his hand on my bare shoulder, lightly rubbing my arms. “EVA uploaded your work and wiped your PC. Don’t worry, we got what we needed.”

I nodded, experimentally breathing in slightly. I was shuddering, pale, and sweating. I wanted to throw up.

“We’ve got a doctor comin’... You’re calming down… good…”

The twenty minutes it took for the doctor to arrive felt like a lifetime. In the meantime, Robertson continued to massage my arms, keeping me calm, talking to me. The doctor administered morphine and the horrible aching was whisked away. Breathing never felt so good.

The men’s voice sounded distant as they performed an X-ray right on the spot. I tried to listen but they were speaking French. Eventually, the man left us alone. 

“They’re broken, but not badly. You’ll recover just fine.” He shook his head in wonder. “You crazy girl.”

“Why?...” I asked. “What happened to Lavigne?”

“Lavigne is part of a terrorist group calling themselves Sons of Raj. They’re hybrids. They’re scattered throughout the world and protect Leviathan. We were keeping our heads down once we found the palace but… eventually they were going to find out…. Never thought they had moles in Cassell though.” He stroked my hair. “Never thought that Lavigne… Damn. How could he hide something like that for so long…?”

Robertson returned his thoughts to me. “We’re going to get you out of here. Your injury isn’t bad enough to stop your work. We are going to move you closer to the palace itself in Mumbai.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Are you serious?” I whispered, wide eyed.

“No one can do the translation as fast or as accurately as you. You’re the Asset. There is no other.”

[serenejoy42]

They Came From the Earth

So I've never done a writing prompt before. And what better time to do one than the present, yeah? This thing is for the Tyria Library October thing. I've never wrote much horror before, so I'll try my best, here!

But, uh, yeah. Some body horror here, Specifically burns. Just saying.

------------

"Tell me what you can remember," the therapist requested in his always-way-too-calm voice.

It was 1324, and had been nearly three years since Floridias joined the Vigil. She was seven and a half years old, and full-on Crusader now, the grown armor she joined the Order in was replaced with a full Vigil uniform, and she had a squad she grew to love-Prixx would always bicker with Barthach, one of her brothers, about the best application of his new golem, a PM-something-or-other, Flori never paid attention to the specifics; her other brother, Korneli, would try to show her some pointers on aiming her rifle while marching; then there was Linus, a massive red charr who laughed at them all and would try to sneak in some Meatoberfest food for them all when on leave. Finally, her marsh drake, Clobber, always by her side and defending her from harm.

"So... Life was good, back then?"

Life was good, back then. Fighting for a just cause, a fight against the Elder Dragons. No grander purpose existed, in that sylvari's mind.

"Good, good... Then, what happened?"

Then, one day, they were scouting in the Shiverpeaks, looking for a good place to camp, when they found the bodies. Flori saw bodies of dredge, with a light snowfall that dusted the slumped, smoking molemen corpses. They were broken, crumpled, and, most importantly, burned. Burns from their arms to their backs and to their feet. Jagged rocks speared and seared into the flesh and armor. Arms and legs lied in directions they should never lie in. All in front of the entrance to a dredge mining facility.

What disturbed them all the most, however, was that the dredge's adversaries never left a body.

Flori could barely remember who said they should go in there. It was probably her who made that dreadful mistake, for all she knew, but it no longer mattered.

She was in the back of the formation, with her and her drake guarding Prixx as he commanded his golem. She could still, to this day, remember that sneer that blue shark rat always did when he heard one of the tree children was guarding him again.

Korneli and Linus were at the front of it, next to the golem, with mace, hammer, and shield at the ready, with Barthach in the center, with his own mace and shield and his guardian magic ready. They all slowly went further into the dark caves, Flori and her brothers glowed softly in the darkness as she held up a lantern. They found more bodies: some appeared to have been fleeing, some burnt and huddled in corners. All burnt, all broken. All dead.

"When did..." She heard a pause from his voice, "How long did it take before... It all happened?"

First, it was a gentle fall of pebbles from the ceiling. Then a rock moved when she looked away. Clobber would growl at random walls. The golem would beep something about seismic activity. The cavern would feel uncomfortably hot. Why were they still there? The squad should have left as soon as-

The cavern shook. Holes in the ceiling tore themselves open as a bright, magma-veined claws crawled out of the holes, the cavern illuminated by the firey blaze of two Destroyer trolls, with Mother-knows how many crabs followed suit. They crawled the ceiling as the trolls leapt into the squad.

Everyone argued whether to fight or retreat. They ended up having to do both, in the end.

Linus had charged himself into one of the trolls, who had pinned Korneli to the ground. Charr strength and hammer met stone as the troll was tossed to the side, but it was too late, as the rosey haired, golden sylvari man had an arm and leg seared to useless black ash. Flori could still remember his screams as Linus picked him up to run. The golem was swarmed by crabs, crawling into its systems and tearing its internals apart as it thrashed around.

Flori would aim her sights at one of the other trolls, who was trying to tear through Barthach's guardian shield, and fired. She had to do something, even if the bullets plinked off or embedded into stone.

All she ended up doing was make the beasts angrier. She saw the earth shift beneath Clobber and Prixx, behind Barthach and his shield. Magma claws and talons pierced the earth and pierced and seared into both drake and asura, and finally dragged them into the earth, screaming. So many screams.

Then it was her turn. She felt the rock shift and crack as she stared in horror ahead of her, unable to move as she stared at the rocks where her drake stood on, only a jagged crack left in the ground. She only snapped out of it when she shrieked in pain as she looked down to see Destroyer crab claws clamp into her armored boots. The magma heat searing into metal, which melted into her white-bark legs. White burned to black. Wood burned to coal. She tried to move, tried to get away. She twisted in an attempt to flee, twisted her ankle, and fell on her stomach as the claws slowly dragged her. Dragged her closer. Why was it so slow that time? It should have gotten her by now-

She looked over her shoulder, dazed, as her still-standing brother, Barthach, pummeled the claws with his mace. The dark purple sylvari had a limp arm. Probably burned, too. Destroyer rock cracked and crumpled under the pressure, but she felt his recklessness accidentally pummel and shatter her legs from the knee down.

Everything afterwards muddled and faded to black as she closed her eyes as she felt charr and sylvari hands grab her to pull her out, with the sound of a golem exploding in the back ground.

They next thing she knew, she awoke in the dead of night, in a sylvari hammock, Korneli holding her right hand with his only hand. He sat on a mushroom stool, head hung low and his leg in a cast of bark. His frond-hair appeared to be wilting from his scalp, with a gentle, purple hand on his shoulder as Barthach stood beside him, his whole arm bandaged and in a sling.

When Barthach shook Korneli awake, they gave her the news that she couldn't leave the Mender's den for a very, very long time. None of them could. And they were all discharged from the Vigil due to injuries. The three of them stared at each other for a long time, and cried.

She lost her will to fight the Dragons that day. And gained a fear for fire that haunts her to this day.

[lillaxtrigger]

Young hope: Chapter 18

Within the void of a dark room, light begins to poor in upon the crack of the door. A young red headed teenage girl peeks within the retreating darkness and calls out for whoever it might dwell. “Opal? You in here?” Chloe wonder aloud. Once she fully opens the door, the hallway lights begins to flood the decorative bedroom. Several dishes litter the furnishings of the less then well kept room, the leftover food they still hold looking not as appetizing as they once were. The once proud dragon girl that she sought could be found laying upon her bed, stewing in the woeful market brand soup called depression, now with extra bits of sadness. “Beat it. I’m not in the mood for any of your crap.” the monk demands. “Oh, Opal. I can’t stand to see you like this...Later.”

Beginning to depart from the room, she figures if she wants to lock herself in her dank ass bedroom for the rest of time, that ain’t no skin off her back. But Chloe halts in her tracks once she hears the frosty ice dragon command and ask her to: “Wait a moment. Why did you come here? You didn’t just come to kick me while I was down, did you?” Upon turning back towards her the bed ridden monk, she admits after a sigh that: “Ryu wanted me to come over and check to see if you were doing alright. Said something about you not returning anybodies calls. He tried to come over, you’re mom told him that you didn’t wanna see anyone.” “But she’s not home right now. The doors are supposed to be locked.” “Yeah, I broke in, but that’s not the point. The point is that you haven’t been showing up to school in days. Everyone is worried sick about you and they won’t stop bitching at me to do something about it for some god forsaken reason.” Hearing this, Opal finally raises from the groove left in her bed to question that notion of worry with: “Oh, now everyone’s concerned about me? That’s priceless. Wasn’t enough that Ryu came out of the closet, but both Renee and Tricia haven’t been answering either. And on top of all this avalanche of trouble, my powers haven’t been acting right ever since that whole deal with Circe.” “You’re powers?” “Yeah, I can’t turn into a dragon anymore. No matter how hard I try, not even a scale pops up.” “Can you still control water?” To demonstrate, the fallen dragon casts her palm toward a cup of clear water resting upon the nightstand and lifts the liquid right from the glass. From their, she twirls the water all around the room, weaving the liquid both around her and unwelcomed guests. Finally, she tosses the water towards one of her unsuspecting posters, freezing into icicles and embedding themselves within the bedroom walls. A disheartened breath escaping the dragons once mighty lungs, the water warrior sadly admits that: “It just doesn’t feel the same. Like a part of me was just ripped away.”

“I don’t see what the whole friken she bang is, honestly. So you can’t turn into a scaly ice breathing monstrosity anymore, big whoop. I’d call that a plus.” “You don’t get it! Dragon transformation is a big deal on my moms side of the family! I’d be like saying to her: “Hey mom. The part you gave to me that made me a part of your heritage was ripped straight outta me in the blink of an eye. Too bad I wasted it all on nothing but petty teen soap opera shenanigans fighting over some stupid cute looking boy!” If she found that out, she might never look at me the same way again.”

With that admittance of defeat, the fallen dragon flops right back onto the comfort of her awaiting bed. A sorry site to behold for sure. One that tugs on her former nemesis heartstrings. Where before, the redhead would bask in seeing the ice monk in such a pitying wreck of torn emotions and battered feelings, now she can’t help feel like an asshole upon such a thought. With Ryu having been taken out of the equation, they don’t really have much of a reason to engage in such bad blood battles anymore. Their whole damn rivalry was kinda shallow and petty upon retrospect. Two young ladies fighting over little more then the passing fancies of an oblivious cute boy. Fucking reality TV drama all up in this bitch. Best get to work on digging their way out from the shallow remains of this broken love triangle they once had the gaw to call a relationship.

The red head begins her excavation by sitting on the side of the morning girl bed, grabbing Opals attention but with a light touch to her shoulder. “Look, the whole Ryu thing wasn’t that big a deal looking back. The dates that Ryu took us both on never led into anything serious. Probably why I never spared much thought on it when he came out.” This claims start reaching the ice monk, pulling her face out from the folds of her pillow. “As for the dragon thing; That witch bitch snatched up a lot of kids and tried to drain them of their powers. That whole fiasco wasn’t your fault.” “Yeah it was. I got careless. One night, I heard a cry for help in a dark alleyway, the next thing I know, a weird glow surrounded me I a was on the slumber express. I’m lucky to even be alive.” “That’s the thing. You are alive. I’m sure as long as that was the fact, your mom couldn’t give less of a shit about your powers.” “I don’t know. I always felt such a sense of pride when going dragon. Like I was doing that side of my family proud. Without it, I don’t even feel that much anymore.” “Quit spouting that self pity horse waste and listen. You don’t need any powers to feel like that. You’re already good at so many other stuff.” “Like?” “Um...Uh well, Mmm...You’re pretty good at getting on my nerves?” An upset exhale through the ice monks nose passes before Opal sinks back to the comfort of her bed sheets. Seems like this mission to bury the hatchet is hitting hard rock fast. Gonna need something to punch through before the ground below collapses. Perhaps a bit of dynamite might fair to shake things up.

“Alright then, fine. Stay in here and rot for all I care. I guess with you all cooped up in here, I’m gonna have to be the bearer of bad news to your mom.” The threat is more then enough to shock her former rival out from the folds of her sheets and call her out. “You wouldn’t dare. I can call the police before you even get the chance.” she counters, her phone ready at the dial. “Got her number from the sticky note on the fridge. Care to try me?” she boasts, threatening the same notion with the mothers number on the screen. The two phone toting teenagers stare each other down, their fingers itching for the call. The air gave off a much less risky wild west shootout, but with the guns being their phones and the bullets being the blackmail.

Finally, ice monk caves into the red head threats and lowers her cellular device. “Just let me get changed.” “There we go, now was that so hard?” “Fucking glaciers.”

Their trip on this self esteem recovery cruise is first through the metaphorical oceans of the Townsville mall. Although the damage from the town wide riot proved to still linger, repairs were already halfway done. Though Chloe is barely able to notice as she proves herself far too distracted by Opals choice of apparel. “Good god girl, what are you wearing?” “What?” “Why in high hell did you decide to go out in that?” “My sweater?” Opal checks, a warm green sweater wrapped around her body. “Yeah.” “It’s just in case of cold snaps. I’m been getting them ever since Circe messed with my powers.” With a disgruntled groan, the redhead turns away from the walking fashion disaster she called her guest on this trip. It’s far worse then she thought. The poor girls taste in clothing had gone off the deep end. Something must be done to cure this deterioration of clothing choices, post haste, before the poor girl crosses into the realm of the hideously abstract.

Chloe looks about the repaired walls of the mall for a single glimmer of hope to remedy Opals unfashionable affliction. Beyond the gushes of the fountain, a newly added boutique could be taken in view. Perfect. Now to just convince the victim in question to come along for the shopping spree. Best to approach this carefully. One backhanded insult could sink this entire cruise before it even leaves shore. “Hey, you know what always cheers me up when I’m feeling like a puddle of street piss? Buying some new clothes. Nothing like a shopping spree to perk those sorrowful spirits, my mom always says.” “Why? What’s wrong with what I wear now?” Opal questions. “Oh, nothing, nothing. I just wanna see what cute outfits you look good in.” “I don’t know. Growing up in a temple out in China for most of your life doesn’t exactly develop your taste in fashion.” “Well all that’s gonna change now. Come on.” A swipe to the wrist and Chloe set off towards the clothing shop with Opal in hand.

Within the shop of fashionable apparel and cute accessories, the duo partake in the fashion line inside to their hearts content. Tee’s, jeans, and accessories they go through, helping each other on what looks best on whom, though Chloe does most of the judging for what builds Opals wardrobe. Gotta build up a sturdy sense of fashion for the future. Upon one point in their shopping spree, Opal manages to pull out a pair of jeans with a design of a sky blue dragon stitched on the legging. Never though she’d get such a cruel reminder from a pair of pants of all things. Before the ice monk has the chance to dwell on what she lost a moment further, her red headed host snatches the glittering garments from her grasp and instead lends her a new pair of designer jeans, these sporting a pink petals design lacing the leggings. A site that cheers up the dragon a fair bit and reminds her to look towards the future anew.

With their fresh line of fashionable fair in hand, the pair head straight towards the changing room, eager to garb themselves with the clothes they picked. One at a time, they enter and exit, switching who changes while the other judges, even exchanging their picks at several points.

Once that fashionable changing montage has run its course, they walk out with their bags of newly perched apparel in tow. Chloe seems to notice Opals mood having lifted. looking like her woes were starting to lift away. “Seems that mini shopping spree might have done the trick. You’re looking a tons better.” “Yeah. I’d admit, I didn’t think I’d enjoy it as much as I did. Wearing the same old stuff everyday and you never really appreciate how you look.” The young monk pulls from her bag of acquired wares a dark purple skirt, one that she had taken a fancy eye to. “Not once did I think I’d pick out something as cute as this.” Upon inspecting the piece carefully, the red head finds it best to give out one more piece of expertise to her budding bud. “Opal, listen, listen...That skirt would go amazingly with something of a light violet.” “You think so.” “Oh trust me girl. Boys would be throwing sticks of dynamite to get a piece of you.” A light giggle escaping her lips, she gives her appreciation for the piece of advice with a humble: “Thanks Chloe.”

Looking ahead, the conductor of this blissful bullet train lays her sight on an obstruction upon the tracks. Their former crush on the approach, with a yellow and black haired individual at his side. God dammit, why does his dreamy ass have to rear itself now of all times! If Opal takes a peek of him hanging out with that bumblebee haired douche bag, it’ll send her back on a one way trip to the precinct of misery and sorrow. Time for this Spicer express to take a sudden detour off the rails. Hastily, she shoves Opal into the nearest store before her site rest upon the approaching duo.

Recovering from the sudden shove, the monk turns towards the red head, and naturally demands an explanation. “What the hell, Chloe? What’s your deal?” “Sorry, thought I might have spotted something in here that you might like.” “In business attire?” “Yeah, sure will find something in this little-what?” Finally, she notices the shop that Chloe had shove themselves into and finds Opal to be correct. The two found themselves in the midst of a business clothing store. Not even a good one where the choices avalible were stylish, more along the lines of causal office wear as the red head looks on in horror the droll line of dress shirts and khakis filling the racks. Oh god. What kind of dorkish hellscape have they forced upon themselves? Even standing aside such passe choices of wares is enough to make the girls skin creep. Best make their escape as soon as possible. “Oh, whoops. My bad. Must have been something I imagined. What’d you say we bounce outta here and look somewhere else for you to where did you go?” Beside her, the ice monk seemed to have slipped form her side, witnessing Opal travel further into the depths of the store. Dear god no. The red head hesitates not a moment further to chase after her guest, rushing into the racks as fast as she can.

Chloe takes her frantic search through the racks and shelves of this office depot, hoping to pull Opal out from the deep wells of this company appointed shop. Has the poor girl finally delved into the depths of madness, or she bravely naive enough to think that she might find something to pull a decent look off in this joint? Dammit, it won’t be long before the spirit of drab office apparel consumes her very being. There might be no saving her at that point. A fate she intends to have not befall the monk.

Her search takes her to the back of the store, the girl she sought coming out garbed in a long sleeved lilac dress shirt in junction with her new purple skirt. “Well, how do I look?” Opal wonders. “You...You look...Not half bad actually.” “You think so?” “Yeah. The skirt actually makes the whole thing surprisingly work.” The red head takes a quite sigh of relief upon the girls overall look. That was quite the scare for the minute there. Thought she’d had her sense of fashion poisoned within this horrid realm of dull business apparel. “Glad you like it so much. Just wish I had enough money to take it home. Spent the last of it over at the other place.” “Oh don’t you worry about cash. Let me take care of cash.” “Are you sure?” “Of course. I’m god damn loaded. Just give me a second.” As the red head goes off to pay for her former foes new digs, the watery young woman looks over to her sweater that rested within one of the bags with a mix of slight attachment and worry.

The next stop on this road trip in the RV of gleeful merriment and mirthful recovery was grabbing a bite to eat. Since Chloe picked where they went at the last few times, she figures it might be time for Opal to take the wheel on a couple stops. Where the ice monk decides to take this road trip was at a Chinese restaurant. And not one of those cheap ass takeout restaurants you find along a strip mall either, we’re talking about the exotic stuff all up in this biz.

The two ladies await for their servings to arrive, admiring the décor planted throughout the restaurant mixed with the eastern style music playing on the speakers above. The variety of food being served to the awaiting people matched the eastern motif like no other, emitting the unique scents that one would find in the land of dragons. The entire restaurant gave out the vibe that you just stepped within a little slice of China. “Wow, this place looks so exotic. Nice choice for a stop, girl.” “Yeah, I thought coming here might cheer me up a bit. The food they serve always reminds me of the stuff I’d eat at my dad temple. Hope he’s doing alright over there.”

Upon that wonder, their food arrives, the waiter resting the delectable dishes before them. While Opal has ordered herself a delectable bowl of chow mein with a side of fried rice, Chloe was given a saucy serving of sweet and sour chicken. The combining aroma’s of the dishes create an overwhelming scent that girls noses eagerly take in. They can practically feel the tantalizing tastes of the Chinese already and hesitate not a moment longer to dig in.

Although the water warrior does not hesitate partaking in her decided dish, relishing the nearly nostalgic flavors; the same cannot be said for the red head, having trouble as early as handling the pair of chopstick she was given No matter what way she choose to hold the foreign utensils, the sticks would always slip from her grip. Looking over, Chloe finds her former rival having next to no trouble accomplishing such a task, taking in bite after bite of the noodles set before her. How the hell does anybody eat with these damn things? Who’s the jackass that thought that eating your food with a pair of sticks would be the most practical idea? The better question is how it became a standard in some countries? Ah, well. No shame in asking for a fork.

After grabbing the attention of a nearby waiter with a wave of her hand, Chloe asks them: “Excuse me. Have you got any forks or spoons I can use?” “Oh, sorry. I’m afraid we can’t serve anyone those at them moment. All of them are being washed.” The waiter takes their leave, leaving Chloe little option but to risk experimenting with the unique set of utensils. Well shit, guess this exotically enticing meal will have to wait for the doggy bag, then. But the red head stomach relay’s to her its objections upon waiting a moment further with quite the upsetting growl, demanding the food before them enter her body at once. Fine, you win stomach. Guess no better time to practice then now.

One more time, she holds the sticks together, pinching them carefully between her fingers. Slowly, she navigates the ends towards her chicken, pinching the piece between the tips. Ha, gotcha! Now to just lift the sour sweet piece and finally partake in the long awaited flavor. But inches away from her gaping mouth, it slips from the sticks delecate grasp and plops upon the table. The gooey sweet and sour sauce splatters upon impact, tempting to land on her newly bought designer garments if not for the red head blocking palm. Jesus, that was close! If even a single drip of this tantalizing nectar got on her person, its doubtful the stains would ever come out. Why didn’t she just order the fucking rice bowl?  Damn this enticing Chinese explosion of sauces and flavors. The taste of exotic foods was always such a crippling weakness to the young lady, no matter how unashamedly juicy it may present itself. Its all just so damn tasty.

Opal on the other hand proves to be halfway done with her chow mein, taking in the delectable noodles with nothing but pinches from her chopsticks. As she continues to dine on her dish however, she can’t help but notices Chloe’s fumbles upon the same venture, watching as she struggles to lift even a piece of her chicken. Where before, the monk of water would take the opportunity to show off amidst her former rivals falls from grace, she instead feels motives for a much opposite form of action.

Pinching the piece of sweet and sour chicken with a stick in each hand, she slowly lifts the longing flavor of the saucy poultry towards her mouth, only to have the piece fall right back on the plate. Right from the cusp of a boiling rage, Opal cools her growling with a grasp of her shoulder while relieving the sticks form her grasp. “Chloe, relax. Chopsticks aren’t that hard once you figure out how to use them. Let me show you how to hold them before you stab someone’s eyes out.” The monk returns the red head sticks back to a single palm, placing them between her index finger like a pair of pencils. “Just place the two sticks between you’re index finger and hold then with your middle finger and thumb like so.” That step finished, the next one shows Opal guiding their hands towards Chloe’s awaiting delectable dish, pinching a piece between the tips of the sticks using her finger and thumb. Finally, the piece makes its trip towards Chloe’s long awaiting lips once more, finishing its abrupt journey with a well deserved bite. At long last, the red head can savor the sweet and sour flavors that swirl within her mouth, the exotic tastes queuing a satisfied moan.   After swallowing a piece of her well desired dish with an ending sigh, the red turns to the water monk, with a thankful: “Thanks a bunch, don’t know how much longer I could risk getting any of that sauce on my clothes.” “Hey, don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do after you bought this shirt for me.” “Now I can finally dig into this bitch!” Eagerly, Chloe pinches another piece and quickly laps up the chicken towards her mouth, but she proves that she still need work with the utensils as she drops the piece just as fast. A lowkey growl escaping the cracks of her teeth, Opal gives her reassuring calm by noting: “Hey, don’t sweat it. All it takes is a little patients and some practice. You should have seen the first time I handled them, one of them wound up flying in my dads ear.” “Really?” “Yeah, I was almost grounded.” Sharing a pleasing giggle, the two return to their meals with the aim to finish.

After a while, the duo finally end their meals with a relaxing slouch and a hearty sigh. “Man that hit the spot. That chow mein you shared with me wasn’t half bad.” Chloe admits. “That sweet and sour chicken you picked out was pretty nice too. This place serves some good Chinese.” Opal shares. “Well, hope you hadn’t had you’re fill yet. We still got some day to burn off to make some stops.” Rising from her booth, the red head prepares her trip towards the bathroom with the followup of: “But first, I gotta make a stop myself.”

One trip to the bathroom passing and Chloe prepares her walk back to pay for the check. Something that catches her eye makes her halt in her tracks however. Her former crush, Ryu, sitting in a booth facing the young man he walked beside with earlier. Are you fucking for real, here? Is he just following them or is this just some massive ass coincidence. Better bolt it before the site strikes Opals gaze, else the whole day plan might come to a screeching stop.

As the ice monk prepares for their departure, she takes witness to her red headed friend making a swift rush in her direction. Quickly setting the money she owes upon the table, Chloe takes Opals hands and rushes for the door. “Come on. The night is burning.” she insists. Little do both of them fail to realizes is that the water warrior has yet to retrieve her sweater, resting upon the seat of their former booth.

With their stomachs stuffed and their taste buds quenched, Opal yet again takes the reins of this frolicsome venture, riding into the realm of infinite possibilities as the day soon fades to make way for the towns dusk. However, in what seemed like a cruel joke, the water monk decides that the next stop upon this girls night out was an office supply emporium of all place. “You know, Opal. You had me with the restaurant and then you lost me here. We’re supposed to be having fun tonight. Why did you drag us hear of all places?” “I just need to stop in here to get several things. My supplies stock has taken a huge nosedive and I need to refuel.” Hearing a load groan escape the redheads lungs, Opal reassures her to: “Don’t worry. I promise we won’t be here for long. Maybe you can help me pick out some cute files.” With that, a much louder groan escapes the red head.

Surely, an excuse that she has heard many a times by now. It’s always just a couple minutes, isn’t it? But a couple could soon easily morph into several, as evidence by the so many times Kingsley has drag her and her parent to this accursed depot of business tools. Seriously, every time she wound up in here, the minutes just slug on to a dead crawl. She’d even try faking sick a couple time just for the hope of relief from the ticking of the clock. Though the red head dares make an acceptation this time around, as her determination to put the petty past behind beckon to the call. This is a day of redemption dammit, a day that will not be tainted by the impulses of rising boredom. If her budding bud wishes to partake in this spree through the mart of office supplies, so be it. Chloe’s only concern is how long she’ll be able to last amidst the droll wilds.

And its not long before the red head resolves swiftly begins to wear thin. The trip through the depot leads them through shelves of staples, plenty of papers, and countless amounts of pencil and pen alike. While Opal enjoys the weirdly tranquil calm of looming through the interior of the store, the redhead was beginning to loose her mind trekking through all of it once again as the horridly shitty excuse for store music breaches her ears for the 10th time in a row. Seriously, its all they fucking play here! She’s heard it on loop, so many times, she occasionally hears echoes of its reprise long after she’s departed. If she has to navigate her way through even another hall of boring file organizers, someones spine is coming out of their backs. The wonder if her former rival just dragged her hear to make her suffer, begins to take hold.

Upon the cusp of a rage induced shit fit, something that catches her eye halts her readying freak-out. Twas nothing more complex then a simple pen, a pen with a rather unique design catching Chloe’s eye. It looks...really nice actually. The elegant pattern swirling along the barrel, the gracious clip seamlessly matching the design of the cap, almost like the designs of a fashionable dress. How the hell is it possible for a pen to look this good. Throughout all the times she’s been through this god forsaken office store, she’s never noticed such a gem. Can’t let this catch slip through her grasp. Taking her newfound pen, she turns back to find she has lost site of her frosty friend. Dammit, where did she wonder of to, now? Swear, you take your eye off some people for a moment and they’re gone, just like that. Better find her before she looses herself in the swirling nether of clip boards and printer ink.

In the midst of her search through this office emporium, Chloe comes across a mess of supplies forming trailing throughout the isles. These supplies seems a little familiar. Staples, paper, pen and pencil. Weren’t these the things that Opal was shopping for? Hard to say for certain. Almost everything in here looks the same, all of it blending together to the red heads point of view. But something still feels amiss. She knows Opal isn’t this incompetently clumsy just to drop her shit everywhere like this. Whatever’s happened, she better follow the trail fast.

The path of paper and pencil leads Chloe all throughout the depot, weaving through the countless isles of supplies and customers. Each second passing is another moment the red heads worry grows. The trail beginning to wear itself thin the further down it leads, she hopes that the path doesn’t come crawling to a close soon.

The paper and pen path leads towards the back of the store, Chloe finally coming across Opal huddled in the corner. “Opal, finally. What the hell happened? Why’d you just ditch me like-...Huh?” A closer look upon the ice monk revealed her to be suffering from a nasty shiver, her breath on full display within the heated space. “Opal, what’s going on!? What’s happening!?” “Cold snap...Can’t find...sweater...Need warmth...now!”

Not a moment further does Chloe wait to drag her freezing friend out from the business depot, ignoring the alarm that sounds off as they pass. Out in the parking lot, the red head looks around, hoping to find someplace for her bitter cold bud to thaw. Can’t take to the skies, gliding through cold evening air is just asking to make things worse. Too far from home either. The trip potentially taking roughly an hour on foot. Not the kind of time she has to spend. There’s gotta be somewhere around here a couple gals can shelter themselves from the chilling cold of the fall winds. Wherever that may be, they better find it fast, else Opal might make for a fine example of the looming dangers of hypothermia.

Up and down and all around the block they go, hoping somewhere around was the salvation of heat and warmth the freezing monk so desires. With each passing second, her shaking worsens. Chloe feeling Opals shivers against her body worsen as the red head holds her tight for warmth. Come on! There has to be somewhere here that can save them from the freezing faults of fall. Another minute longer and shemight succumb to a frightening frosty fate.

In the midst of her frantic search for the desiring relief of warm do the duo spot an orange glow, piercing through the darkness of an alleyway on the wayside. Not a moment longer do they rush towards the light, finding within the alley a burning oil drum that few of the cities homeless have huddled around to bask in its heat. Perhaps not the most appealing places to seek shelter from old mans winters knock at the door, but given Opals dropping temperature, it’ll have to make do. The freezing monk wastes not an another moment to approach the glowing blaze, warming herself against the radiating heat. “You feeling better?” the red head asks her. “Yeah...Warming up at least.” “Hah….that’s nice to hear. Thought for a minute there you would have ended up turning into a grape dragon popsicle.” “I...I don’t get it.” “Ah, see it’s cause you’re wearing purple and you almost froze to-” “My sweater! I don’t know where it could have possibly wound up. I need to get it back.” “Oh...Well don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ll just get ya something even better to where. Maybe even a designer coat with silk lacing in the-” “No!” The suddenly harsh objection from the warming warrior makes the fiery red head and the other homeless jump back. “I need that sweater back ASAP...I can’t go home without it.” she demands under the frost of her breath. “Alright, fine, Jeez. I’ll get it back for you.”

As Chloe takes flight from the orange lit warmth of the burning blaze, she wonders what the hell bossy MC ice fangs deal is. It’s just a stupid sweater. Not even a good looking one either. That snot colored abomination didn’t even look that good on her to begin with. If she was that worried about getting cold, it’d be best to get her a much more stylish designer coat instead. Perhaps something of a magenta color would tie her look together quite nice. Something to spare thought to as she begins her search for the ice monks sweater. Don’t want all that hard work and cash in cheering the girl up to go right down the drain. The only question left unanswered is where they could have left the damn thing. Only four places it could possibly be at. Seems this mystery is gonna require retracing their steps.

First stop on this mystery march was back at the business supply emporium. “Nah, we haven’t seen you’re friends sweater, But we did see you two run off without paying.” the cashier mentions. A disappointed sigh escapes the red heads mouth as she pulls out the money she owns.

Second stop upon this sweater search was at the boutique, the cashier at the front claiming: “No, you’re friends sweater wasn’t left here. Good thing, too. That horrid thing best not be left in our shop.” Although inclined to agree with the sneering comment, the red head ultimately takes her leave.

Up next was the office dress shop, and much like the other shops before that Opals sought after sweater is: “Ain’t here. Sorry. Though while I have you, would you like to try out are new membership plan. You get a new pair of khakis sent every month?” Nope. An irritated growl seeps through her teeth as she walks out.

Only place left to check on the list was the Chinese restaurant they dined at earlier. Luckily Chloe manages to strike a bit of gold during the hunt, the waiter confirming that: “Yes, it was here. You two left it at the booth you dined after rushing out.” “Really? Mind if I have it back then?” “Oh, sorry. A couple of guys that came in here earlier snatched it up on their way out before any of us could grab it.” “What!? Can’t you at least tell me what they look like?” Chloe pleas. “Eh, not really sure. Didn’t really get a good look at them going out. Don’t know what to tell you.” “I-...Thank you for your time...” A weary moan leaves the girls lungs at she exits the restaurant.

Well, that proved to be a complete waist of time. Going around everywhere only to find out that Opals stupid sweater was stolen. Who in their right mind would look to a sweater left on a random seat of a Chinese restaurant and go: “Ah yeah. That shits mine, motherfucka!” Fuckin really now! Now how to break the news to her as gently as possible?...Wonder if the boutique still open?

A round trip back to the alleyway the fiery red head left her frosty friend behind and she finds the lady of the hour has left the scenes entirely. Oh, where the hell did she wonder off to now? Can’t exactly message the girl to see where she’s at. Never bothered to get her number. Okay Chloe, calm down. She’s not stupid. If she left, then that means that her cold spells must have wore off. At least she’s alright for now. Only question left was where she went. Now think; where would someone who grew up in a Chinese temple for most of their life go to when feeling like frosty shitcicles? ...

Within the confines of the Townsville park, a wide view of Chinese themed scenery stretched before her. Flora and fauna from the very country it was attempting to emulate planted throughout the section of park. Buildings matching the old atheistic placed about to go with the tranquil scenery, some housing public services. A calming stream leading throughout the park flowed from the ponds almost like lifeblood, little wooden bridges connecting the lands for safe passage. Completing the entire eastern aesthetic with the paper lamps suspended upon the poles. Its a miracle this place remained untouched during the town wide riot. It always looked so gorgeous. The redhead can’t imagine what would happen this beautiful portal into the land of dragons were destroyed overnight. The park just wouldn’t be the same. But now’s not the time for exotic admiration, there’s a friend that needs to be found, dammit. Best find her soon before this nightly fall air makes her succumb to another cold snap.

The koi ponds, the ancient bell, the lily garden, the bamboo thicket each and every corner the red head looks for the lady of the hour, finding not a single speck of the frosty lass anywhere. Checking in the buildings around proved to be just as a fruitless endeavor, the ice monk failing to be in any of them. Maybe she just went home after all. As Chloe begins her trek out from the eastern themed park, her expression perks upon spoting a familiar figure standing atop one of the wooden bridges crossing the streams.

Opal herself was busy staring down into the flowing stream below, entranced by the passing koi fish as a senses of waning nostalgia envelopes her. “Hey girl!” The call for attention snaps her out of the enticing trance, finding her fiery red head friend approaching from the side. “There you are. I was getting worried you might’ve went home. Good thing I caught ya hanging around here, huh. Nice to see that you’re feeling better too.” “Uh, thanks...Did you find my sweater yet?” “Ehhh...No, wound up getting stolen.” “What!?” the ice monk exclaims, visibly distraught by the baring news. “But don’t you fret. I got you something even better. Ready?” With that, the red head presents her final gift on this metaphorical merriment cruise liner: a top of the line fur designer coat. “Ta da!” Placing the coat in Opals grasp, Chloe goes into further detail about said gift with: “Figured it’d help you plenty with any freeze spells you might catch, with it’s thermal wool interior and heavy outer fabric, that baby should keep you warm no matter how low your temperature drops.” “I...Um...Th-thanks...I guess.” “What, you don’t like it?” “It’s just...I really wanted that back sweater back is all. And hearing it get stolen is just-” “You still going on about that national offense of fashion? Just forget about it. That coat I picked out for you is way better then that snot green disaster any day of the week” That snide remark manages to set the water warrior off to boil, arguing with: “Excuse me!? That offense of fashion was special to me. You can’t just replace something like that.” “Oh, come on. I guarantee you that coat you’re holding has had a lot more money dunked into it then that mucus colored mess ever held. What kind of value could that hideous excuse for clothing possibly have?” “It was a gift from my cousin, you bitch!” A mix of shock and guilt befalls the red head upon this fact reaching her ears. “I haven’t seen him in years, but he sent me that sweater as a birthday gift several months ago.” “Opal, I-” “You know, I was honestly hoping that we could have put all all our bad blood business behind us and maybe bury the hatchet. I actually liked hanging out with you and thought you were really cool. Like, I was thinking, “Hey, I guess she isn’t as bad after all.”… But I was wrong. You’re really are just and as selfish and inconsiderate as I thought.” Her words of bitter scorn and deep remorse delivered, the fallen dragon tosses her newfound coat into the mercy of the sky, the fall winds above claiming her ill received gift for themselves. The emotionally wounded warrior then departs, leaving Chloe to stew in the wonder of her actions.

Hmm, figured that conversation could have taken a much smoother route. Things might have not taken such a drastically worse turn if the red head hadn’t crashed into the ice monks nerves like that. Maybe it’s not to late to apologize for the sudden wreck?...You know what, no. If that bitch isn’t thankful for all the money I spent on her, so be it. There’s better things to do with ones time anyhow.

Ready to depart and leave the upset dragon to her woes, Chloe turns around to find her former crush right behind her. “Hey Chloe, what’s up.” “Ryu, hey.” Whoa, when the hell did he get here!? Wait a second, did he catch that whole fiasco? Judging by his upbeat expression, its a safe wager to assume that he didn’t see much. Play it cool, Chloe. “So, what brings you around here?” “Just hanging out with this cool guy I met the other day. I spotted you and Opal at that Chinese restaurant earlier and was hoping I could catch you two to talk for a bit.” “R-really? With what?” “Well, this might sound kinda weird. But I always got the impression that you two might have been fighting over me.” “What? No. No. That’s crazy. Whatever gave you that silly idea?” Oh god. “Well, I kinda figured that both of you had a thing for me and wanted to say sorry if I may have broken a couple hearts coming out.” “Ryu, it’s no big deal. Honest, I’ve moved on.” “Okay. I was a little worried there. Hey um, if you see Opal, mind giving her something for me as a sort of apology.” Curiously, the red head awaits as the boy before her turns from behind, requesting her to: “Wait for it...”

Shortly, he pulls his of apology which takes the form of Opals lost sweater. “Her sweater!?” “Yeah, I kinda saw you two rush out of the restaurant without it. Figured she might want it back. You know where I can find her?” “Um-Uh… Swiftly, she nabs the sought after garment from the boys grasp, promising him that: “Don’t sweat it. I’ll make sure she gets it the next time I see her.” “Oh, great. Thanks. You know, I’m so happy you two are finally getting along. I guess with me outta the game, there’s really no reason to fight, is there?" “Ha ha, yeah. Good to hear. Ha.” God dammit. “Cool. Listen, I gotta get back to this guy that I’m hanging out with. Maybe work up the nerve to ask him out. Tell Opal I said hi!” With the boys leave, Chloe gives her wave goodbye, waning the further he goes as she says farewell with: “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell her. Good luck on your little date, Ryu. Ha ha ha...ha ha...ha...Shit.”

Whelp, guess that was the final nail in the coffin, wasn’t it? The red head felt like a complete asshole. I mean sure, at first she did all this because nobody would shut the hell up about it, even tempting to leave when the fallen dragon proved to be too stubborn. But during their time spent together, they found more common ground then either of them realize. Maybe there was even a chance to form a budding relationship where war once waged. Fuck, why did all that have to come out of her mouth. Hope the soil isn’t too far tainted for anything to grow now.

Around the park she goes once more, hoping to catch the ice monk before her bitter departure. However, another sweep around the park proved fruitless as she fails to find Opal anywhere. Please say she didn’t leave already.

Within the confines of a hidden grotto, she finally found the frosty dragon of ice, dwelling in the darkness upon a stone seat. Opal herself not to happy that her depending rival uncovered her, evident by questioning with a mildly harsh: “What do you want?” “I um…I was hoping to catch you so I could say sorry for the sweater. Didn’t know it meant that much to you. I shouldn’t have made us leave without it.” A depressed breath escaping the fallen dragons mouth, she turns her gaze away from the red head. “But guess what, it didn’t get stolen after all. Ryu stop by to chat and found it.” Reaching around, she presents the treasured sweater in question, prompting Opal to slowly approach. Showing little emotion, she takes the sweater from the red heads grasps and after inspecting it asks: “So Ryu found it, huh? Did he say anything else?” “Just sorry that he kinda broke your heart.” “Oh...” Her sweater in hand, the icy monk returns back to the shadows of the grotto, her gaze breaking with Chloe once more. “Listen, if it’s Ryu you’re still worried about, you don’t need him. You-” “It’s not Ryu I’m mad about. I’m over him. It’s about you.” “Me?” “The way you treated my sweater with callous disregard, it showed how little you think of me. That you barely even considered how losing something like that made me feel. It make me wonder that all we did today was just you trying to look like the bigger woman.

Hearing this, Chloe approaches the dragon monk, sitting beside her upon the hard stone. “Look. I’m just gonna come clean with you. At first, I just did this because everybody wouldn’t stop coming to me about you, like whatever you do is my damn business. But the more time I spent on this whole trip, the more I began to enjoy it. I mean picking out great clothes, teaching me how to use those chopsticks, finding an amazing looking pen. I’d never thought I’d have much fun hanging out with you, until today. And about your sweater, you’re right. I acted like I could just buy my way outta loosing it and never thought it might have been important to you. I always just took that kinda of stuff...for granted. You’re honestly one of the coolest girls I’ve ever met and I really don’t want things to end like this, but...I understand if you never wanna see me again. Later.” Her heartfelt apology dealt, the red head prepares to take her leave from the darkness of the grotto.

Right on the cusp of taking her sorry leave, Chloe hears the sound of the water monk call out and demand that she: “Wait.” A quick turn about towards her staring frosty friends request and she wonders what the girl might have left to get off her chest. “...Thanks for...getting me out of the house and taking me shopping. You’re whole encouraging blackmail trip actually kinda helped. I was beginning to feel a lot better. Lord knows how long I’d stow myself in my room if you hadn’t forced me out. Do you...do you still think we have time to hang out?” A warm smile drawn across her face, the red head approached and reassured that: “We’re teenagers. We can make our own time. But you might wanna better way of hanging onto that sweater of yours. Hang on.” Taking the garment from Opals grasps, she ties the warm sweater around her reforged friends neck. “There we go. Don’t look half bad on you when you wear it like that.” “Hee, thanks. Come on.”

Upon emerging from the darkness of the grotto, the sound of the ice monks phone halts the two in their tracks. “Oh hang on.” Digging the phone from her purse, she takes the answer, only to be met with the ballistic screams of her mother on the other end “Mom...S-slow down, what are you talking...The business depot...They said I did what!? Ha-hang on mom! I can explain, I...um, I...” Struggling upon what to say to the furious parental figure, the fallen dragon feels the calming touch from her once bitter rival upon her shoulder, looking back to find the fiery red head with a reassuring smile. The doubt and fears leaves the renewed monks person with a soothing breathe, determined to face the fury of her mother head on with: “Mom...There’s something that I need to tell you...”

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With this chapter, I wanted to try and explore the dynamic between Chloe and Opal in the aftermath of their burnt out rivalry. I thought it might be interesting for Chloe to try and help out a former rival having been weakened by the scares left behind by Circe, exploring a different side to the whole coping story that I did with Roy a couple Chapters back

(Also as a good story excuse to retcon Opals dragon powers, but never mind that.)

[kindaresilient]

the lost empire

art by the talented @embracethelighting thanks so much hun!<33

wow! Im finally posting this and I am so excited! Thank you to the amazing @stupidnephilimlove for beta read it and to my amazing friend Lisbeth for the amazing art. 

This is the longest I have writen(?) and i cant with feels:') so i hope you love the concept and the story as I do.

can be read on ao3

“But afterwards there occurred violent earthquakes and floods; and in a single day and night of misfortune all your warlike men in a body sank into the earth, and the island of Atlantis in like manner disappeared in the depths of the sea.”

― Plato , Timaeus/Critias 

He heard it before it happened.

There was the sound of an explosion, followed by the rapid buzzing of ships flying high to surround the city in a desperate attempt to warn everyone. To save everyone.

It was soon followed by the sounds of the bells warning everybody about the threat, soon madness was unleashed.

People ran. Families grabbed their loved ones, to safety. He was overwhelmed, watching everything unfolding in slow motion, and he gripped his toy tightly.

That was until his mother pulled him out of his reviere.

Clutching him by the shoulders, shaking him and turning him around to stare at him with wide eyes, full of fear.

"Magnus c'mon!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him forwards. Towards where, he didn't know. He wanted to go back, at least to pick up his toy where it fell.

His mom, sensing this, shook him. "Magnus! Let it go. There's no time!" she pleaded with him.

That was when it happened.

A streak of blue lights, the same color as the crystal, engulfed her. Her eyes shone the same. Her body levitated from the ground, going limp, and she released his hand.

"Mama!" he screamed trying to reach for her as she went up in the sky and merged with the bright blue lights. Statues of stone formed a shield around them...protecting them from danger? Or pulling them into more?

He didn't know. He just wanted his mom. "Mama!" he screamed once more, tears streaming down his face. He felt his uncle's embrace then, shielding him from everything.

"Close your eyes Magnus," Ragnor mumbled as he hugged him. “Don't look."

He stared at the bracelet that fell from her wrist. It was the last thing he had left of her.

She was gone.

The city proceeded to plunge into darkness, swallowed by the unforgiving sea.

Alec couldn’t believe their luck.

First the giant robotic lobster that destroyed their submarine and cost them the life of almost the whole crew. Then all the obstacles on their way down, from walls to machines failing and bridges falling.

The fiery fireflies and the collapse took the price though.

He heard the screams of Isabelle as they descended, and he called out for his siblings and friends on the way down, hoping they would make it. Also, praying he would make it.  

Then everything went black.

Valentine lit a match illuminating the darkness. “Alright, who’s not dead? Sound off,” he grumbled.

It was soon followed by moans and groans of everyone alive.

Valentine turned on one of the car lights and looked around. “Isabelle, give me a damage report,” he asked.

“Well,” Isabelle started, checking everything with the lantern she was holding, “not as bad as it could have been. We wrecked two vehicles but the digger looks like it could still run. Lucky for us that we landed on something soft”  

“Pomez ash,” Simon exclaimed from a little mountain, playing with the dirt and looking awed by it. “We are standing in the base of an dormant volcano,” he went on.

Iris hit Simon in the head with a bengal and proceed to shoot upwards, watching the bullet go up. “It just keeps going,” she murmured.

“Maybe that’s our ticket out of here,” Jace said. In that moment, the bengal hit the roof and exploded.

“Maybe not,” Iris said with a grimace.

Simon fixed his glasses and gestures wildly with his hands. “The magma has solidified into the valves of the volcano and blocked the exit.”

"Hold on, back off, " Maia exclaimed, speaking for the first time. "You're saying this whole Volcano can blow any time?" She asked worriedly.

Simon got close to her. “No no no, that would take a massive explosion of grand magnitude to happen.”

They all turned their heads to Jace, who was fiddling with TNT. He looked up. “I probably shouldn’t do this here, right?”

“If we blow the top off, maybe we could get out of here. What do you think, Mr. Lightwood?” Valentine inquired. Silence answered. “Mr. Lightwood?” he asked again, looking around.

“Alec!” Isabelle screamed into the cave, looking around anxiously for her brother.

Alec slowly returned to consciousness, feeling like a train fell over him. Maybe it did. He opened his eyes slowly, things coming into focus...and suddenly facing strange tribal looking masks, worn by people with spears and arrows.

He did the sensible thing.

He screamed and gasped, trying to get as far away from them. His shoulder stung at the movement. He looked down and realized he had a bloody gash there, most likely caused by the fall.  At this movement, the closest one of the… tribal people took his mask off.

Alec was rendered speechless. He was the most beautiful man Alec had ever seen. The dark bronzed skin had blue patterns embedded in it, they covered all of him. His dark hair was streaked with silver highlights, his brown eyes shone like ambers and his glossy mouth, hung open, looking awed at something, at Alec. As if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing.

Alec probably should pick his jaw from the floor and get his act together. He then remembered his wound and gasped in pain, grabbing his shoulder, and that seemed to snap the man out of his reviere because he came closer, invading Alec’s personal space and looked him in the eyes. Then he picked up the diamond that was hanging from his neck, put it over Alec’s wound and then touched it, blue lights coming from his hands. Alec was shocked at the feeling, and when the man removed his hands he realized the wound was gone.

Alec sighed in relief and the man smiled at him.

Of course, it was at this moment that the universe decided to interrupt them, in the form of the digger coming out of the wall, causing everything to tremble and scaring the tribal people. He couldn’t let them get away.

“Wait!” he got up, trying to chase them but damn, they were fast. “Who are you... where are you going!?” he kept screaming while trailing behind them. “Come back!”

He kept climbing rocks behind them and suddenly… he was standing in front of the most beautiful view he had ever seen. He barely noticed the others arriving, rooted in the spot at the sight of the enormous flying city surrounded by waterfalls and clouds and blue skies everywhere.  

“ Holy cow! ” Simon exclaimed somewhere behind him.

“It’s beautiful,” Izzy whispered.

Maia went to stand by his side and patted him in the back. “Lightwood, I’ve got to handed to you. You really came through.”

In that moment, they heard some kind of war screams and suddenly they were surrounded by the tribal man again, their weapons aimed at them.

“Oh, I take that back,” Maia said.

“Holy catch, who are this guys?” Valentine asked, reaching for his weapon.

Alec was still in some kind of dream. “They gotta be Atlanteans!”

“What?” Iris said. “That’s impossible.”

At this, one of the masked man started talking in some unknown dialect and pointing at them, like demanding an explanation.

“I think it’s talking to you brother,” Izzy murmured in Alec’s ear.

The tribal man continued, walking forward and talking to Alec. Alec stepped forward and spoke to the man, reassuring him they where here to do no harm.

Tha man removed his mask and -Alec realized it was the same beautiful man who healed him- asked him about their intentions, seeming surprised he knew the language.

Alec answered him, ‘they were exploring’ and again ‘they had no intentions of harming anybody’.

The man answered him with a big smile and Alec turned around to his companions. “They’re good.”

At that Valentine stepped forward, past Alec, and started speaking to them with a smile. “We are explorers from the surface world. We come in peace.”

The dark skinned man gestured behind him with a flourish to the city. “Welcome to the city of Atlantis.” He then proceeded to grab Alec by the hand, dragging him along like an excited kid. “Come, you must speak with my uncle now.”

Alec was happy to oblige, sue him. He barely noticed the others trailing behind.

The scenery was amazing. He didn’t know what to focus on. It was like a mix of lava and water, two juxtaposed elements combining together to create something surreal.

Because of the awe he was experiencing, he didn’t pay any attention to the other conversations, like the one between Iris and Valentine that would change everything.

“Commander, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone down here. This changes everything,” she told him.

“This changes nothing. Everything is going to plan,” Valentine snapped at her.

After a while, they were standing in front of two imposing stone doors. The guards opened it, revealing stones, vegetation and animals all living together in harmony. In the center, there was a stone throne with a huge lake in front of it. Sitting there was an old man with pale skin.

The dark skinned man stepped forward and kneeled in front of the old man.

“Greetings your Highness,” he started in atlantean. “I brought visitors.”

“Magnus,” the old man started, “you know the law. No outsiders may see the city and live."

Alec gulped hard and started panicking at this. Were they going to die? Just for seeing the city? This must be some sort of joke.  

"But Uncle! These people may be able to help us!" the dark skinned man exclaimed with pleading eyes.

"We don't need help," the king replied.

"But Uncle---"

"That's enough," the king said. "We will discuss this later."

Alec could feel the disappointment and sadness from the beautiful man. He felt the same. There's was nothing left to--

"Your Majesty," Valentine stepped forward, "on behalf of my troop,  may I say it is an honor to be welcomed to your city."

"Valentine. Commander," Alec hissed, "this isn't a good idea"

"You presume much to think you are welcomed here," the king replied.

"Sir, we've come a long way looking--"

"I know what you seek," the king interrupted Valentine, "and you're not gonna find it here. Your journey has been in vain."

"But sir, we are men of science," Valentine continued, "we're here in the pursuit of knowledge."

"You claim to be a man of science and yet carry weapons," the king retorted back.

"Weapons allow us to remove obstacles," Valentine replied.

"Some obstacles can't be removed just by force." The king got up at this. "Return to your people. You must leave Atlantis immediately."

Seeing things could get out of control, Alec got near to Valentine and whispered, "It’s best if we do as he says."

Valentine sighed at this. "We will leave. But may I respectfully request one night? It would give us time to rest."

The king seemed to ponder. "Fine. One night. Then off you must go."

That seemed to end the discussion and everyone turned to leave the throne room. Alec looked back and saw the dark skinned man give a sigh of resignation with watery eyes. Then the doors were closed.

"Your heart has softened Magnus. A thousands years ago you would have killed them all on sight." Ragnor sighed and lay down, watching his nephew stare at the closed doors.

Magnus turned around indignantly and approached, gesturing wildly with his hands. "A thousands years ago our streets were lit and our people didn't have to pick up scraps to eat at the edge of a crumbling city" he shouted.

"Our people are content," Ragnor told him.

"Our people don't know any better!" Magnus picked a wet drag and cleaned Ragnor's face,  "We were once thriving and now we live in ruins. The kings of the past would cry if they could see how low we have fallen."

"Magnus--" Ragnor chastised.

"If these outsiders," Magnus interrupted him, "have any way to help us understand our past, perhaps we can save our future." His eyes were pleading by this point.

"What they have to teach us, we have already learned," Ragnor retorted.

"Our way of life is dying," Magnus whispered.

Ragnor took one of Magnus’ hands between his, "our way of life is preserved," he told him. "Magnus, when you get the throne, you will understand." He cupped his nephew’s cheek with his other hand and Magnus nuzzled it and closed his eyes tightly so he wouldn’t cry.

"So how did it go?" Isabelle -Izzy- asked him excitedly as soon as the doors closed.

"I don't think the king and his nephew think alike when it comes to us" Alec told the team when they reunited outside. "He seems to like us, but I don't know, the King seems to be hiding something."

"If he is hiding something, I want to know," Valentine said.

"Yeah, someone needs to talk to that boy," Iris suggested.

"I can do it," Simon exclaimed happily from a corner.

"Someone with good manners," Maia commented.

"I have good manners!” Simon shouted.

"Someone with good people skills," Jace added.

"I will go!" Simon kept going.

"And who won't scare him away," Maia added.

"Someone who can speak the language," Isabelle commented.

"For the sake of the mission, I will go!" Simon insisted.

They were none having that, though.

"Thank you for offering, Lightwood. You're a good man." Valentine told Alec as he patted him in the back.

Alec was checking his language book, oblivious to the banter but perked up at this.  

He looked dumbfoundedly at the retreating team, leaving him alone to wait for the King's nephew.

Isabelle kissed his cheek and hugged him briefly. "Go get him, tiger," she told him with a wink.

He was screwed.

Alec watched from a column as the dark skinned man stepped out of the throne room. He went to hide and took a deep breath.

"Okay, you can do this," he told himself. "Don't take no for an answer. You have some questions and won't leave without answers. Yeah, that's it."

Alec stepped out from behind the column and started speaking when--

The man wasn't here. What that hell? He was just right here, walking the aisle of the throne room.

He sighed, already resigning himself when suddenly someone grabbed his arm in a lock and before he could scream covered his mouth with the other hand. He grabbed the wrist that was against his hand and felt warm skin under his fingertips and a breath against his ear. “I have questions for you” someone--the dark skinned man he realized-- murmured against his ear, breath hot with every word, “and I won’t take no

for an answer.”

He removed his hand from his mouth enough from Alec to mumble an, “okay but why--”

“Shhh,” he interrupted him, “come with me.” The man smiled and proceeded to drag him by his arms.

They climbed slippery rocks full of vegetation and vines,and ended up in some kind of forest.

“Oh, I have so many questions to ask you,” the man exclaimed excitedly as they stepped down from a rock, turning around to see him struggle for a bit. It was slippery, sue him. Apparently he was impatient because he grabbed Alec by the hem of shirt and tugged him down. “You are a scolar, right? I figured by your ugly set of clothes and that book you carry around,” he told Alec. “What is your country of origin? When did the flood reach there?” he started rambling.

“Eh, um, wait a minute,” Alec interrupted him. “I have a few questions for you too. So let’s do this. You ask one and I ask one, what do you think?” he asked nervously, afraid that maybe the man would say no. But he just gave him a reassuring smile and nodded.

“Very well” he said, swaying his shoulders a little. That movement shouldn’t be as entrancing as it was.”What is your first question?”

“How did you get here?” Alec blurted out and started rambling, “not you as a person, but your culture, as in all the people who live here, I mean--” he took a deep breath and tried to focus. “How did all this, end up down here?” he finally asked.

"It is said that the Gods became jealous of Atlantis," the man answered and started walking, "and that they sent a big cataclysm that buried us here. Honestly, all I can remember is that the sky turned dark and people were shouting. And then a blue light covered the city, it took my mother as if it was magic. My uncle told me it was calling for her. I never saw her again," he ended narrating, looking at his feet.

"I’m sorry," Alec told him, and he truly meant it, "if it is any consolation, I know how you feel in some way. I haven't spoken with my parents for a very long time and--wait a minute" Alec realized something, "what are you telling me? That you remember because you were there? That's not possible. That would make you like, an eight thousand years old man."

The man shrugged with a smile, "Yes, I am."

Alec stared at him dumbfoundedly, "Oh, okay… you look good." He blushed furiously after he realized what he said. He cleared his throat, trying to dissipate the embarrassment, "do you have any questions for me?"

"Yes," the man exclaimed, "how did you get here?"

"Well," Alec started, scratching the back of his neck, "it wasn't easy, but with the help of this book we found our way." He showed him the book and the man took it, looking through it.

"You can understand this?" he asked him, still not looking up.

"Yeah," Alec answered, "im a linguist"

"This right here, you can read this?" the man asked eagerly.

"Yes I can, just like you," Alec replied and saw how the face of the man fell. "You can, can't you?"

"No one can," the man answered, "such knowledge was lost when the cataclysm happened." He suddenly perked up, like the solution to all his problems was right in front of him, "you can teach me!" he asked - more like demanded.

"Um, yes, I guess I can--"

The man dragged Alec by the arm, "Come! You have to see this!" They halted in front of some kind of stone fish.

"...Is this a vehicle?" Alec asked.

"Yes, but no matter what I do it doesn't work." The man replied, looking a bit like a child throwing a tantrum. It was adorable.

Alec realized he was staring and snapped out it, focusing on the instructions that were on the stone fish.

"Did you try putting the crystal in?"

"Yes."

"Did you put your hand on the pad?"

"Yes."

"Did you turn the crystal to the right?"

"Yes!"

"While your hand was on the pad?"

"Ye--! Ah, oh. No, I didn't," the man answered.

Alec grinned and got up. "Well, that's your problem. That's an easy thing to miss, you deserve credit for getting this far honestly--" he shut up abruptly at the unamused face the man was showing. "Um, why don't you try it now?"

The man ignited the vehicle and started levitating. "It works!" Alec exclaimed happily and stared at him, who was also grining widly.

"I wonder how fast it goes." Alec touched something and the fish promptly moved forward and then made a zig zag, almost crashing into them if they hadn't ducked down. The fish crashed into a wall as Alec and the man stared at it.

After a bit the man started laughing and Alec couldn't help but smile. "So, who wants a ride?" He asked him jokingly and was rewarded with a smile.

Alec was so smitten.

They started walking again with apparently no destination, when Alec realized something.

"You know, we were never properly introduced. I’m Alec," he told him with a smile.

The man looked at him and smiled. "My name is Magnugakash."

"Magnuka-Magnuskash," Alec tried but for some reason he couldn't say it. "Is there a short version?" he asked, blushing a little. Hold it together, Lightwood.

"You can call me Magnus," The man - Magnus - replied.

“I can remember Magnus,” Alec answered with a small smile.

They kept walking and arrived at a river, and Magnus pointed at all the people who were fishing, working together. It was beautiful to see.

One man just caught some kind a lobster and threw it in Alec’s direction. He barely caught it, and the thing was thrashing and trying to bite him.

Magnus laughed and took the lobster from his hands and bit it hard on the neck. The lobster went limp immediately. “Here,” he said, putting it into the bag Alec was carrying around. “Tell me more about your companions. Your doctor, is he the blonde one?"

"No, that's Jace, my brother. His deal is explosives and such. Our doctor is Maia, the girl with the afro."

"Oh, so your mechanic is the one who keeps talking, then?" Magnus inquired.

Alec snorted. "No, that would be Simon. And he is our... dirt expert kind of guy. Our mechanic is actually my sister, Isabelle. She's the best."

"She sounds like it," Magnus told him. "It is time for dinner, we should get in."

They were in front of some sort of big, stone tent. Alec didn't even realized they’d arrived. He felt a hand tugging his own and looked up to see Magnus dragging him.

"Come, sit with me," he told him with a smile.

Alec had no objections.

They ate sitting close together, conversation buzzing around, his siblings and friends merging with the Atlanteans. At this sight, he dared to feel hopeful. He looked at Magnus, sitting close to him, talking and eating excitedly, smiling at everyone.

Alec smiled. Yeah, hope was a good feeling indeed.

Later on, Magnus took Alec on another walk. Magnus was carrying a lantern to show the path and they were surrounded by fireflies, casting lights and shadows on everything around them. Alec was honestly so mesmerized.

"You know, we were hoping to find buildings in ruins and broken pottery...but instead we find a living and thriving society." A firefly came to rest on Alec's arm and it tickled. Alec giggled. Actually giggled . "You know, these ones are kind of cute when they're no trying to set you on fire."

He looked up and saw Magnus had a sad expression. "We are not thriving," he began, "true, our people live, but our culture is dying, every year a little bit more."

Alec sighed. "I wish I could do something."

Magnus gestured around them. "I brought you to this place to ask you for help. There's a mural here, with writing all around the pictures--"

Alec got excited immediately at the prospect of helping. He took the lantern from Magnus and pointed it at the big stone. "You came to the right guy. We can start with this column right here and---Mm, Magnus, what are you doing?"  Alec asked him, a little stunned at the sight of Magnus stripping off his clothes.

Magnus shot him a smik over his shoulders as he continued to strip. "You do know how to swim, right?"

"Oh, I swim pretty boy," Alec blurted out and then cringed realizing what he said, "I swim pretty good, pretty good." He then stripped off his clothes too and was left in his trousers, joining Magnus at the big --river? lake?-- he was getting into.

"Good," Magnus said, giving him a knowing smile. Shit, he noticed his slip. "It is a big distance to where we are going."

Alec couldn't help but smile back through the embarrassment. "Lead the way"

Magnus took a deep breath and dived down. Alec followed soon after. They started diving through rubble and big pieces of stones of all shapes. Alec couldn't believe all of this was down here, wasting away.

They kept swimming for a while and Alec was starting to panic a little. Could Atlanteans breath underwater? Magnus seemed unfazed as he kept swimming but Alec was getting a little dizzy from holding his breath so long.

Finally they seemed to reach their destination, as Magnus got up for air in what seemed like the inside of an cave, followed by Alec who coughed his life out.

Magnus held his head between his hands and stared at him with a fond smile. "Are you alright?"

Alec coughed a little more and tried to smile back. "Well, I didn't drown so--"

"Good," Magnus exclaimed, "follow me," and he dived back in.

Alec sighed before submerging. The things he did for knowledge. He followed Magnus to the biggest set of stones that were there, all ancient texts and drawings being illuminated by the crystal hanging from Magnus neck.

They were close, Alec noticed. And promptly focused on reading and deciphering what was in front of him. Down there was not the place to die from staring a pretty boy. A very, very, pretty one.

Besides, he had a duty to fulfil.

He couldn’t believe what he was reading. He looked at Magnus and gestured for them to go up.

“I can’t believe it!” Alec gasped as soon as he hit the surface, followed by Magnus. “It’s the whole history of Atlantis, just like Plato described. I mean, he was off in some aspects but he got most of them right--”

“The streak of lights I saw,” Magnus interrupted him, and in this moment Alec realized how close they were. “That were in the middle of the city. What did the writings say about them?”

“I don’t know yet, but we are gonna find out.” Alec replied and dived back in. They studied the drawings from afar, getting close when some details caught Alec’s attention. Little by little he was understanding everything, making sense of it in his head.

He stared at the big drawing of what looked like big statues of men forming a giant crystal with their hands and everything clicked. He looked at Magnus and touched the crystal that was resting on his neck.

Magnus stared back at him, not understanding what he was trying to communicate. Alec pointed up, signaling for them to get out.

“It’s the heart of Atlantis!” Alec gasped once they were out.  

“What?” Magnus asked.

“I thought it was a power source,” Alec continued, grabbing the the crystal Magnus had, “but it’s actually the heart of the whole city, of the people, and the bright lights you remember. It’s all of it, somehow”

“But that’s impossible,” Magnus whispered.

“It’s what’s keeping you guys alive,” Alec said, a little too somenly for his taste.

“But where is it now?” Magnus asked.

“I don’t know, but there’s gotta be something in my book about it,” Alec replied and suddenly he realized how close they were, breathing the same air, Magnus staring back at him with wide eyes full of questions.

Alec gulped. Magnus looked beautiful and he was only human. He thought he saw Magnus’s eyes flicking to his lips for a moment. Could this mean…?

Magnus got closer, he could feel his breath against his mouth, but other than that didn’t make a move, giving Alec the chance to hold back.

Fuck it , Alec thought. He was surrounded by all the knowledge he’d craved all his life and he had a beautiful man in front of him. He deserved it.

Alec leaned down and kissed Magnus softly, sighing contently at the intake of breath Magnus took. Their lips molded perfectly like they were meant to be together, moving softly, testing the waters. They parted after a while, breathless and Magnus looking all god like with his bronze skin glistening with water, tattoos contrasting with it, lips parted, his inked hair with silver streaks pushed back, and eyes wide staring at him like he held all the answers. Maybe he did.

Right there in that moment, the real treasure was this extraordinary man in front of him.

[kingquest]

I

The moon itself is a crumb among crumbs, hidden away in the far corner of a forgotten pantry. It’s nearly lifeless, save for an obscure species or two, certainly nothing carbon-based. It’s a void in the middle of an unwritten map. It's surrounded by nothing and no one. Not even the cheapest contractor would risk bringing anything to fruition on its surface. It’s a fool’s errand; a death sentence. The only thing a bounty hunter would expect to find here is a corpse.

And yet.

Skullcap maneuvers his ship around bits and pieces of space rock. He eyes unfamiliar asteroids and unnamed planets. He taps his steering mechanism in a crescendoing rhythm, his boot bouncing against the floor. His helmet glances sidelong at a tablet cradled within the passenger seat, eyeing a list of coordinates that stopped updating over three weeks ago.

The average bounty tends to hide in one of two places: in plain sight--the success rate depending entirely on their ego--or somewhere abandoned, but not yet dead, civilization still twinkling from the horizon. The goal of the coward is to survive, of course, but it’s only instinct for a hunter to track its prey where it knows it can sustain itself. Simply put: A hare cannot expect where the wolf will strike because it does not know its nature, it will always be surprised; it would take something as clever as the wolf to know where it would not go.

Therefore, something--someone--very far from average indeed.

He’d been left with very little to go on; the only trace his target had left behind was the signal of a communicator that was only sparsely used. They’d found her subdermal tracker embedded in the skull of her enforcer, carved into the shell of a bullet. The rest of her trail had been smeared to hell with blood.

A chill plucks at the chords of Skullcap’s vertebrae and as he tears himself away from the coordinates, shaking his head. The dusty gray moon looms over the nose of his ship. He flips a switch, enters the last seen coordinate, and the ship’s engine shifts. He eases the ship onto the surface, circling a mountain range he likes. He nestles himself from view, landing far enough away from the point of interest that--ideally--his entrance into the atmosphere went unnoticed.

The ship settles. Rocky debris tumbles around its foundation, the path of wind suddenly interrupted from its course, but soon all is quiet.

Skullcap hesitates. He takes a deep breath.

“If I don’t come back,” he says, “the ship’s yours.”

There’s a rustling behind him. Pottery clangs together. From underneath a UV light emerges a pink, ringed head that cranes towards him. It snuffles something like a yawn, before it digs itself out from the plants it made its home surrounded by. It approaches him expectantly, tilting its head.

He rubs at his collar bone while simultaneously feeling for the weight in his holster.

“Shame we didn’t get you your permit.”

The worm wags its tail and he leans over, rummaging through a compartment, before tossing it an egg shell. A hole at the bottom of its head snaps around it, cracking it in half. It’s engulfed within seconds.

Skullcap huffs a laugh. He finally stands, taking his time, wandering over to his weapons hatch. The worm slides through his calves.

With his gun already on his hip, he plucks out a knife, and then a second one for good measure, sliding them safely within their respective pockets. His hand hovers over the variety of less lethal options within his arsenal before his fingers fold into his palm. He takes a step back, pausing only for a moment.

In hindsight, he’s lucky there’s enough oxygen in the atmosphere to keep him breathing. He doesn’t consider it until the ship’s door is already open and he takes his first breath. The air’s thin; measuring his inhales becomes a conscious and calculated effort. Still, after he rides down the lift, he takes his first step onto the moon’s surface. The dust of his impact floats ever so slightly before falling back to the terrain.

His line of sight is trained on every crevice and rock formation. When no ambush comes, he proceeds, only realizing too late his path has been hindered. He nearly trips, but stumbles into a recovery, gripping onto one of the lift’s support bars to maintain balance.

The worm is tense and completely still as it hovers over his shoes. There’s a rumbling deep within its flesh--one he’s never heard before--and while he tilts his head and squats down to soothe it, he runs his hand down the worm’s taut muscles and follows its arched head to the sky.

In the darkness above him, he’s blind to everything but stars. It’s an overwhelming blankness; like the sort that could swallow you whole. At first he thinks his companion’s been spooked by something in the air, or a sound his ears can’t pick up, but he persists, squinting up at the emptiness. The worm’s head swoops in a subtle sort of way, so he follows it’s direction, and it’s only when it jerks suddenly, snapping to a specific point, does Skullcap finally spot it.

A dark shape floats above him, obscuring the little light he has. It’s small, not a ship, it’s something within the atmosphere. He thinks it’s some sort of… drone, or maybe a weapon, but its shadow flickers suddenly, folds and expands, a sort of movement that can only be organic and breathing, and a hand erupts from his intestines and squeezes his guts when he puts two and two together.

It’s an oblong shape. It’s carried over him by two distinct wings, feathered and massive. A sharp, pointed head looks down upon him, moving before its body does, staring at him from miles above.

It’s a bird. They’re being circled, preyed upon, by a bird.

He scratches the worm’s head and squeezes it against his chest, only to drop it back onto the lift. As it rises, it whimpers once, before the door closes behind it, silencing it. Skullcap keeps his eye on the lingering shape, carefully stepping around the more perilous and loose configurations across the range. He occasionally ducks out of sight, even attempting to crouch-walk in serpentine to lose its trail, but it never gives. At the slightest sensation of hope, a star will go out above him, and the hand inside him grips harder.

He navigates to a clearing in good time, tablet clasped in his hands. He crouches behind a rock and glances at the coordinates, then back up again, rooting around in a pocket for his binoculars. As he pinpoints her position, a light trail of smoke catches his eye, leading to the entrance of a cave. He checks in with the coordinates once again and nods, replacing his tools.

Skullcap braces himself against the rock. He inhales, rubbing his gloved thumb against the side of his index finger. He pokes his head up behind him, towards the cave; there’s no sign of anyone or anything. If she has a ship, it isn’t here. They’re positioned in the lowest point of a valley--a glorified crater--surrounded only by shrubs and the peaks of mountains. It’s all flatlands: nowhere for her to run, nowhere for him to hide.

He takes his time with his exhale, the air filtering through his helmet. He bends his knees, gets low. He unlatches his holster. His gun is a comfort in his hands.

He approaches slowly. His steps are as shallow as his breaths. Halfway there, his helmet turns upward, pausing for a moment to shift his focus completely. The stars shine interrupted and complete.

He hums. His thumb runs across his knuckles. He presses forward.

The smoke wisps from the cave’s entrance, smudging ash onto its highest ridge. He can hear the lovebite of kindling against tinder bouncing off the cave's walls, but nothing more, the silence of the valley pushing in. He idles near the entrance, waiting, not sure for what, his hand steadies himself against the structure with his gun at his hip.

His weight shifts. He tilts, bit by bit, until he silhouettes the darkness of the interior. He leads with his pistol, his finger ghosting over the trigger.

The source of the smoke is little but dancing embers and withered wood. It creates a short glow that barely reaches the cave’s inner workings. Still, he’s able to make out the outlines of shapes against the far wall. There’s a pile of baggage slumped in a corner, a chrome looking cooler with a frying pan propped against the side, and most significantly a sleeping bag, complete with a feathery crop of hair sticking out from the padding.

He approaches her, steady, his gun trained on the head. His eyes adjust to the cover of the starless ceiling and behind her he makes out the outline of a rifle and he hesitates. He lingers near the entrance.

His shoulders square. His muscles tense. Then loosen.

He clears his throat. “Kingfisher,” he says, “by order of the Court of the Glass Dunes and Lord Emperor Zusk, for the crime of mass homicide, put your hands in the air or be shot where you lie.”

His voice reverberates across the cave, snuffed out somewhere deeper within the cavern. The fire crackles a ways behind him, dwindling to dust. She is still. There is no stirrance nor sound.

He clears his throat. He takes an involuntary step forward.

“There’s nowhere left for you to go. It ends here.”

Nothing.

He glances behind him, but snaps back, watching for movement. He shifts his weight back and forth, raising his piece a few inches.

The shot’s impact is worsened by the echo. He swallows a wince, his line of sight ricocheting from the newly created divot in the wall to the sleeping bag. When the dust settles, nothing changes.

Skullcap turns toward the fire. Then back to the body. He aims again, for a lower extremity, and fires. Blood spurts outward, leaking from the dawny hole, and his shoulders leap, but even now, even with a hole in her leg, she doesn’t move.

He eyes the blood, leaning forward. It oozes rather than sprays; it makes a meandering path to the bottom of the sleeping bag, where it drips sparingly onto the dirt. He looks back at the fire pit, at the collection of wood and smoke, and his arms fall by his waist.

He sighs, his hand scratching his neck. He checks the tablet, then his surroundings. He lingers on the body a final time before making his exit.

With the stars above him again, he reholsters his gun. He checks over his shoulder before scanning the horizon for something, anything, even the slightest of exhaust fumes. He rubs his hands against the fabric of his pants, setting his jaw.

“The body count grows,” he says, “And I’ve got shit-all to show for it.”

He rolls his shooting shoulder and pivots, directing himself towards the mountain range he came from. He keeps his helmet pointed upward and an eye out for any flapping wings. Ultimately, there are none.

Skullcap fidgets with the tablet. He swipes the coordinates’ screen downward, yet they remain the same. He turns, walking backwards, as if by some miracle he'll spot treadmarks, or exhaust stains, or any sign of movement other than his own. His tracks sit alone, disturbed only by the flow of dust. When he turns again, his shoulders are relaxed. A cocktail of relief and disappointment alchemize in his chest. He fingers the latch of his holster almost involuntarily, opening and shutting it, keeping his hands moving.

He's squarely in the middle of the flatlands when he hears it. A sharpness, high and loud. A whistle. His spine's shocked squarely straight. His boots are weighed by lead. His helmet snaps upward, first towards the sky, and then to the mountain range in front of him.

His gun is pointed high on instinct. His eye trails the jagged cliffs ahead of him frantically, every muscle taut and ready. He doesn't breathe, doesn't move, he's all trained focus.

A shadow flickers. He's on it immediately, but it's not quick enough, the seconds slip away from him like sand as he watches the figure, crept between two rocks, lean into the scope of a rifle. His shooting arm is still trying to adjust when the air between them cracks, broken by the whip of a bullet.

In the milliseconds it takes for him to spin, to drop low, to force the feet beneath him to fucking move, he catches her waving at him.

He hears the tearing of cloth and meat before he sees it, feels it. He's toppling over as it hits him, white and hot like an explosion of metal underneath the skin of his thigh. His gloves dig through the moon's surface, strained, the thrumping of his heart nearly audible through the veins of his neck. As he pulls himself forward, his elbows creating dirt tracks of their own, he realizes with a dawning horror his injured leg's gone completely dead.

His vision vignettes. His fingers loosen. The muscles of his lower body relax in a domino effect, he's not made even a foot of headway before both legs shut down entirely. He slows his breath, as if that'll help, but he ends up sputtering.

With the last of his strength, he forces his hips to turn. He raises his shooting arm, the gun nearly weighing it down, and stretches his neck around to aim.

The cliff side is barren, without a single sign of disturbance.

His muscles all come crashing down at once. His leg seeps. The gun is stuck locked in an embrace with his fingers.

Skullcap blacks out.

[statecryptids]

MEGALONYX- TENNESSEE 

Finally, a new state cryptid!

In the summer of 2016, a group of people were taking an evening walk through the woods behind their property in Jasper, Tennesse when they stumbled across a strange, hairy quadruped. That may not seem remarkable at first- especially in a place where coyotes and bears are not uncommon. But this creature was unusual because it had what appeared to be a human-like face. The report of the encounter is vague on exactly how humanoid the creature’s visage was, nor does it state what happened once the people saw it, but the animal was said to have wandered away into the woods shortly after being seen. A few months later a spelunker claimed to have seen a similar small hairy creature crawling up the wall of a cave. Given the shortness of both encounters, along with the poor lighting in each case, the most likely explanation for both beasts is misidentification of a mundane bear, dog or other animal.

But what if these creatures truly were something unknown? What could they possibly have been? How about a large, cave-dwelling sloth? Little more than 10,000 years ago Tennessee- most of North America, in fact- was home to a variety of large mammals collectively called megafauna. These included mammoths, mastodons, saber-toothed cats and several species of giant ground sloths. The most well known of these latter animals was Megalonyx, an animal originally described and named by Thomas Jefferson, who was as much a naturalist as he was a statesman.  Megalonyx is believed to have died off along with the other megafauna as the glaciers retreated from America and human beings spread across the continent. But what if a small relict population survived?

The majority of Tennessee’s bedrock is made of limestone, which is readily eroded by rainwater. As a result, the state is riddled with sinkholes and caves that would provide ample hiding space for a small group of sloths.

There is evidence that several species of giant sloths did inhabit caves at least part of the time.  For decades local people in Brazil have been aware of massive, deep tunnels running through the jungle. The walls of these tunnels are covered in long, deep rows of four parallel gouges. For many years the source of these odd caves was a mystery. Were these made by human tools? Were they some strange effect of erosion?   Last year researchers finally figured out that the most likely makers were giant sloths.

Exactly why ground sloths inhabited caves or dug burrows is still not known. Their thick hides and intimidating claws would have deterred most predators, so it’s unlikely the burrows were for protection. At least for the adults. Maybe the caves protected the more vulnerable young? Or maybe the sloths wandered into the earth to obtain essential salts and minerals much as elephants today will enter caves and dig at the walls to extract the nutrient-rich clays. Regardless of why prehistoric ground sloths inhabited caves, today,  this troglodytic habit would be an excellent way for a small population of surviving sloths to remain hidden from humans.

But why think that the creatures seen in Tennessee were surviving Megalonyx? Admittedly, the encounters were so brief and in such bad lighting that it is difficult to say exactly what the witnesses saw.  The only real hints are the animal’s odd human-like face. The face of a living tree sloth is blunt and fairly simple and could be said to be somewhat humanoid, at least compared to the prominent muzzle of most mammals. Megalonyx had a much deeper, wider skull than its tree-dwelling cousins, but its face was probably similar. It’s not hard to imagine that such an odd visage glimpsed in the late evening or in the gloom of a cave might create a much more humanoid impression.

The Tennessee beast is not the only potential surviving ground sloth. Legends from Brazil and Bolivia speak of the Mapinguari, a large red-furred jungle beast with thick, bullet-proof skin, massive claws, backward-facing feet, a single eye, and a large mouth in its stomach. While the more fanciful elements are difficult to explain scientifically- and may be nothing more than embellishments- the red fur and tough skin do match up with preserved pieces of ground sloth hide that have been found throughout South America. In addition to possessing reddish-brown hair, these samples also have ossicles- small disks of bone embedded in the dermis- that would have made the animal’s skin difficult to pierce.

Stories of another possible (though admittedly unlikely) population of surviving ground sloths comes from the far North. According to some cryptozoologists, various Indigenous peoples of the Yukon in Canada have legends of the Saytoechin or Beaver-Eater. This beast is described as being larger than a grizzly bear and possessing huge claws that it uses to rip open beaver dams in order to prey on the inhabitants. Admittedly, the connection between the Saytoechin to ground sloths is scanty.  The only reason the two are linked at all is because local people, when shown a book of prehistoric animals, picked out the large sloth Megatherium as resembling the Saytoechin. This cryptid’s carnivorous habits also cast doubt on its xenarthran (the taxonomic group that includes sloths, armadillos, and anteaters) identity. Even so, it is an intriguing bit of speculative mythology.

SOURCES

Mysterious Universe article on Tennessee monsters

Original Cryptozoology News article on the creatures

An article from Shukar Nation on the Saytoechin

A good article on Thomas Jefferson's study of Megalonyx fossils

South American Giant Sloth burrows

[ludoeveryday]

Not SVTFOE fanfic. Again, not finished

The king rose from the ashes of his kingdom. He would get revenge for the misdeeds done to him and his people.

* * * *

The pyromaniac laughed darkly as his carriage trundled along the cobbled road. He had satisfied his urge for flame. For now…….

*  * * * * * * *

The pirate waited. If the king did not deliver the ransom soon, he would kill the girl. He was tiring rapidly of the princess's constant whining. He was done waiting.

“Ready the plank!” he shouted as he exited his cabin.

* * * * * * * *  

The princess was sick of everything. The smell. The brutish men. The fact that she hadn’t changed clothes or had a bath for six days. The fact of the matter was, she was also sick of fear. It had haunted her like some malevolent spirit for the whole time she had been here. And as the words she had dreaded finally filtered through the grate blocking her from the rest of the ship, her blood ran cold.

“Ready the plank!”

* * * * * * *

The monster was waiting patiently. It would be fed soon ……

* * * * ** *

The band                                                       The  pirates laughed as the princess fell from the boat into the sea, which was swarming with sharks. They were still laughing as she was ripped limb from limb by the creatures, her blood darkening the water. But Grimbeard was still not satisfied. He had a plan. The king didn’t know his daughter was dead.

                                                                  “Men,” he roared, “tonight we feast!”    

                                                                                   * * * * * * * * *    

                                                                  The pyromaniac, Jack, trundled along in the king's carriage. All of a sudden, the carriage was stopped. Just as Jack was about to stick his head out and ask the driver what was going on, he heard a bang. Jack thought all of the king's guards had died in the fire. Besides, he told himself, none of the king’s men use guns. It was probably just a gun going off somewhere else. I ca-but Jack was cut off as the door was flung open.

A man with a brown beard grabbed him by the collar of his tattered jacket and slammed him into the seat.

“I’m only gonna ask once. Where’s the ransom?”

Jack stuttered, trying to find words explaining that he had no money. Then he remembered what he was riding in.

The pirate smashed Jack against the wall of the carriage. “Answer me!” When Jack stuttered again, Grimbeard threw Jack into the street.

“I don’t have time for this!”

As if to prove his point, a man ran toward Grimbeard, trying to pull him off Jack. Before he had covered half the distance, Grimbeard pulled his gun from his belt and shot the man dead. It was as Jack stared at the man lying in the street covered in blood, when he said the words he regretted for what was left of his extremely short life.

“I-I’m not the king.”

“Oh,” said Grimbeard. Then he shot Jack in the head.

* * * * *

The monster watched as the sharks moved in for the kill. Then he followed suit. After the princess was just a few bloody bits of skin floating around, he swam up to one of the contented sharks, grabbed it in his long curved claws, and ripped it to shreds.

Now, unfortunately for these sharks, unlike most animals, they were not used to things eating them. This monster had slumbered for a taraannum, and not in the oceans of this world. After the sharks had been devoured, the monster lazily thought about capsizing the ship and killing the sailors. Instead, he sank quietly into the blackness of the ocean.

                             * * * * * * * *

The king walked down into the castle dungeon. When he reached the stairs he remembered why the only inmate was put here. He tried to stop the memory, but it cascaded through his brain, totally encasing him in a web of what used to be.

He was in a cave. There were symbols covering the walls, written in what looked like blood. In front of him was a man in red, pinning a man in green to the wall of the cave. They were both severely injured. Limbs broken, blood everywhere.The king moved forward quietly, as to not alert them to his presence. The cave dipped down, forming a pool at the end. The king got closer and saw that it was full of blood. The men started talking.

“If you ever so much as think about coming back here, I will kill you, and make sure it’s for the last time.”

The man in green started to smile.

“You think I won’t finish what I started? He’s coming back. There is nothing anyone can do to stop him.”

The man in green started to chant. The man in black started to punch him, screaming at him to stop. The king was about to intervene when the pool of blood started to boil.

A light, stained red by the blood, pierced through the darkness of the cave. Something began to arise from the blood, something with a long muzzle, sharp ears and long curving teeth.

The man in black finally cut off the other man’s chanting by wrapping his fingers around his throat. The thing stopped ascending from the pool.

“Promise that you won’t come back.’ The man in black said.

“Fine. I promise.” The man in green managed to get the words out.

The king saw his chance and took it. He leapt from the shadows, grabbing the man in black. The man in green turned and sprinted out of the cave.

The king fell as the man in black shoved him.

“You fool!” He screamed. “Do you know what you’ve done? I had him!”

The king stepped forward, extending his hands toward the man in black. A pale yellow light encased the man, silencing his screams of rage. When the lights dimmed, the man was gone. In his place stood a black spirit, bound in the yellow light.

The king took him back to the castle and bound him to the dungeon. The spirit could not leave without the king’s permission.

As the king reached the bottom of the stairs, a black mist twined itself around him, whispering in his ear.

“I have come to set you free.” Said the king.

“You know you will only be enhanced until you get revenge, right? After that, your body is mine for all eternity.”The thing whispered.

“I know. Whether demon or friendly ghost, be free. I unbind you from this place!” As the king uttered the words,  the mist seeped into the king’s skin. He sagged for a moment, then straightened up.

“Now,” the king whispered, “is the time for revenge.”

With these words, he flashed up the stairs, moving impossibly fast.

                          * * * * * * *

In his four poster bed,Grimbeard slowly drifted into sleep. He thought about what had happened that day. It was the third princess he had killed in a week. With the money he had, he could have run off to live on the pleasure islands. In fact, he was considering that. Of course, he’d have to kill the rest of his crew, but he could do that. It was decided. By next week, he woud be living like a king. Just as his eyes were closing, he saw a dark shape flash by. He started to sit up drowsily. His eyes bulged in surprise and lack of oxygen as the king grabbed him by the throat.

“Where is she?” The king asked, his voice layered, as if there were multiple people inside him.

“ I-I don’t know.” Stuttered Grimbeard. The king’s hand suddenly crumbled to ash. The king looked at his hand, then screamed in agony. In its place there was a copy of the hand. A perfect copy, except for the fact that it was transparent, black, and jittering. The hand moved to Grimbeard’s head, and plunged itself deep into his cranium. Grimbeard felt it picking through his memories, discarding what it didn’t need. He suddenly forgot his own birthday. He forgot about everything except the princess. The king saw his daughter fall to her death. He looked up at Grimbeard, rage in his eyes. Then, with a flick of the king’s wrist, Grimbeard’s brain exploded inside of his skull, leaving chunks of gray matter to drip through his ears.

The king grinned. “I haven’t killed anybody for a thousand years,” he said. Then his heart exploded. The king’s eyes turned black.

“Ahh,” said Nagct, “It’s good to be back.”

* * * *            

John woke up in bed. His head pounded inside of his skull. Where- where was he? He started to panic.

Come on John, get a hold of yourself. What’s the last thing you remember? You were in the street, that man was hitting that other man, and-and then he shot you.

John sat up, ignoring the pain in his head. His wife, Mellisa, hurried over to him. Just before she had managed to force some hot soup down his throat, The front door banged open. In the doorway stood a short but muscular man, robes billowing in the wind.

John gasped.

“Sire,” he said, “I thought you died in the fire?”

Nagct looked at him for a moment then said “Well, obviously I’m still alive.” Then he smiled. “Pardon me ma'am, but I’m going to need to speak privately with your husband.

Nagct pulled John into the next room. His face turned serious.

“John, you have to remember who you are.”

“What do you mean? I’m John. Just John.”

“What are you talking about? If you are just, “just John,” as you put it, how could you have survived that bullet?”

A look of puzzlement overtook John’s face. “I was lucky.”

“You call this lucky?” Nagct shouted as he stabbed a dagger deep into John’s shoulder.

John stared at the knife, which was embedded to the hilt in his shoulder.

“Why-why would you do that?” He asked.

“Because,” Nagct said, “I’m going to kill your wife in front of you and make you watch.”

John’s face went from confusion to fear to anger.

“You come into my house, attack me, then threaten my wife?” John said slowly, his voice trembling with anger.

He grabbed Nagct by the arm and swung him into the wall. Nagct threw a punch but John simply grabbed his fist and squeezed so hard the snapping of bones was audible.

“Yes,” Yelled Nagct, delight apparent on his face. “This is who you tr-”

He was cut off as John punched him in the chest, sending him flying back through the wall.

Nagct got shakily to his feet. “Alright John, I think I’ve proved my point. You can stop now.”

John pounced on him and started to punch him again, first breaking his nose, then his skull. As he was being beaten, Nagct whispered something inaudible. John grabbed him by the shoulders and started to hit him against the ground.

“What was that? I couldn't make it out.” John said through gritted teeth as blood continued to splatter against his face.

Suddenly Nagct’s hands grew claws. His teeth fell out of his head and sharp black ones took their place. His ears grew points. Finally, out of the sides of his head grew two sharp black horns.

He picked John up and smashed him through the other wall. Before John even had time to think Nagct had grabbed him again and was on top of him, punching again and again. John grabbed Nagct’s arms but he kept going, smashing his face into John’s. John watched as Nagct’s head started to crack, then bleed more than it already was, and finally split. Pieces of  gray matter and bloody bits of bone hit John in the face. Nagct grabbed John by the throat and lifted him into the air. What was left of his mouth managed to form words, contorting themselves horridly.

“I. Said. STOP!” Nagct screamed. Then he dropped John.

John jumped up, ready to keep fighting, but Nagct started to smile, his lips moving into somehow a worse position than they had been when he spoke.  

“Now do you believe you are who I say you are?” asked Nagct.

“How-how are you still alive?” stammered John.

Nagct looked himself over. His fingernails were long and black, along with his right hand. His head was a bloody deformed mess, not to mention the horns growing out the side of it or the long sharp teeth inside of his mouth. He had several broken ribs, the tips piercing his skin. His speech sounded like a large man was beating up an especially whiny cat. Overall, he was a bloody, terrifying mess.  

“Oh, I’ve had much worse. I bet you’ve guessed by now, but I’m not the king.”

“Then who-what are you?”

Nagct sighed.

“It’s a long story.” he said dismissively.

“Well, then what do you want with me?”

“To tell you that I’m going to have to tell you how I came to be. So you get to find out anyway. I love happy endings. But nevermind all that. A long, long time ago, when this kingdom was still in its infancy, there was a plague. A plague of-”

“Rats!” John interrupted. “I remember now! There were rats everywhere. I was made to be an exterminator! That is my mission!” John proclaimed, looking rather pleased with himself.

Nagct started to make a horrible sound. He convulsed. He bent over, still making the noise. John hurried over to him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, worried.

Nagct fell to the ground. It was then that John realized he was laughing.

Nagct stood up, tears in his eyes.

“You-you really think you were an exterminator? Why in the world would an exterminator need super powers?”

“Oh,” John said, his ears burning.

“Now, don’t interrupt me again. We don’t have much time if we want to save your friends.” John started to interrupt, a quizzical look on his face.

“Ba-up! Not now. Later. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. A plague of squirrels.”

“Squirrels?”

“What did I say about interrupting? Yes, squirrels. But these were no ordinary squirrels.These were ground squirrels. Yeah, I agree. Someone could have given them a cooler name.  They are quite possibly one of the most dangerous and powerful beings in the universe.  So the king at that time, Selar, quested for months with his most faithful knight, searching for the wizard Garejd. They finally found him, and asked for an army of super-warriors to drive out the beasts. The wizard refused. They tried to force him, and the wizard became desperate, fighting for his life. He let out an energy blast that killed the knight. Selar eventually subdued the wizard, and commanded him to do as he said. The wizard replied that he had already done so, then disappeared in a puff of smoke. After five years, Selar tracked down the wizard again and killed him, taking his power.From that point on, all kings had a little magic. It differs. Some have  more than others. Selar then made his warriors. But they were not complete. The power they received would have driven them insane. So the king separated their souls from their bodies. What was left was a merciless killing machine. The souls became solid and spread to all corners of the earth. They gained the power to possess the willing. The reason people gave up their bodies was because the souls promised them they could get revenge on whoever the humans desired.The soldiers were relentless. They successfully drove out the squirrels, but suffered many casualties. After a few years, only a handful remained. Three were sent to the orc kingdom to kill the King and his counsel. Two were captured. The third escaped to disappear forever. I believe that the third warrior was you. And I want to go on a quest to recuse your comrades! Are you with me?”

“Uhh, yes. Duh. Come on!”

“Now I know you might be hesitant to leave your wif-wait, what? Oh. Okay then. Let’s go.”

With that, the pair headed out of what was left of the house, ready to take on a quest.

* * * *

The monster was bored. He hadn’t killed anything for hours.  He slowly drifted up to the harbor to watch the people.  

A rather small and weasley looking man drifted up behind a well dressed captain. In moments, the small man had picked the pockets of the captain and disappeared into the foot traffic in the nearby town square.

The monster was interested. He shrank into a shape that resembled a snake and slithered after the thief. The monster found him in a dark alleyway, surrounded by other mangy men, investigating the contents of the Captain’s wallet and pockets. A poor man stumbled out of the shadows, begging for change. One of the men walked over to him and kicked him in the face, drawing blood. The monster was filled with rage.

He leapt out of the shadows and changed shape mid-air, not his usual behemion size, but still frighting enough to make all of the men but one drop to the ground, twitching. The only man left was the man who pick-pocketed the captain.

The monster rushed to him, grabbing him by the neck and baring his teeth, growling. The man looked at him with distaste.

The monster spoke, his voice layered and deep. “Who are you to attack an innocent man?”

The man spoke, his voice surprisingly gravely. “Oh come on Kinoqer. You’re going to have to up your game if you want to scare me.”

Kinoqer stiffened in surprise. “Laux. I thought you were gone. No matter. You promised that you would not come back here.”

Laux nodded his head in acceptance. “True. But I did not make this promise to you.”

“Ah. So you would like me to turn you over to who you did promise this to?”

A look of pure horror overcame Laux’s face.

“You wouldn’t. Besides, Nagct was trapped when the king found the Cave of the Dead.”

Kinoqer smiled.

“You’re right. But who created and filled the Cave of the Dead? Who worked painstakingly to bring him back? And who ran away when he came close to entering this world? You trapped him here, as a mere memory of what he used to be. You really don’t think he won’t find and damn you?”

“No. I don’t. Because I have no intention of being here when he comes.”

As he said this, there was a cracking of bone, and out of Laux’s knuckles came shards of bone, sharp as obsidian.  He struck out at Kinoquer’s throat, raking the bone over his neck. Before he got there, Kinoquer grabbed his hand and smashed it back into the wall. Then he simply drew a claw across Laux’s throat, then dropped him. Laux got to his feet, hissed, and started to run away. As he was running, Kinoquer called out, “

And for your sake, don’t come back.”

Then both of the strange beings were gone, the beggar’s cup was full of gold, and his injuries healed.  

* * * * * * * * *

John was excited. They were close. At least, that was what Nagct said.

“So, when do we get to find my friends?” John asked.

“Shh. There are monsters here.” Hissed Nagct.

They were walking through a lush, green valley. Mountains rose up on either side, piercing the light clouds above them. Ahead of them was the entrance to a dark forest, a small path disappearing between the trees.

“So wait, are there really monsters here or are you just telling me that to make me shut up?” John asked.

“Are you willing to risk your life over it to find out?” Nagct retorted.

“Yep.”

Nagct sighed. “Okay. The real reason I’m telling you to shut your mouth is because the Kimlo, a tribe of extremely aggressive Skinbenders, lives here.”

“Skinbenders?”

“Oh. Right. Skinbenders are monsters that murder people and steal thier skin. And if that isn’t terrifying enough, they wait to kill until their victims guess what they are. They have no real form, so they can contort their bodies into brain popping positions. They also love to murder people.”

Before John could say anything in response, they were pulled through a wall of ivy into a long cave. The cave went on so far it was impossible to see the end.

Nagct sprang to his feet. He pinned the man who had pulled them into the cave against the wall.

John got up and looked around, confused. He put a hand on Nagct’s shoulder, silently telling him to back down. Nagct dropped the man.

“Who are you?” John asked in a kind tone.

Nagct pushed John out of the way and stared the man in the eye.

“If you don’t answer now, your face will look exactly like mine.”

The man whimpered.

“We were trying to save you from the Skinbenders”

Nagct grabbed the man’s shirt and slammed him into the wall .

[tsgcharlottesvillevirginia]

Our Week Scouted – July 26, 2019

Love

The Tavern – 6946 Fredericksburg Rd. | Somerset, VA | Loring Woodriff Real Estate, Dennis Woodriff, 434.531.0140  The details: 3 bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, 2,034 square feet, 4 acres What we love: “The Tavern” is a rare gem, and home of The Scout Guide members that own Joseph Joseph & Joseph. Built by Joseph Cave in 1797, once used as a tavern (ancient lead bullets embedded in the wall bear proof to its storied past), this historic home is updated with modern necessities. Inside you’ll find four fireplaces, board and batten paneling, 18th century Orange County post and beam addition, and many fascination architectural details. Outside there are level lawns enhanced by native species and dry-laid stone walls at every turn. Twenty minutes from Cville, close to multiple vineyards (Barboursville and Horton to name a few) and 15 minutes from Blue Ridge hiking, this fabulous find will be a delight full-time, as a weekend retreat or Air BnB investment. 

Heard

Big news out of The Dairy, the food hall concept space currently undergoing renovation at Preston & 10th Street. Starr Hill Brewery has announced that they will be the anchor property at the new space, projected to open in 2020. “We have been looking to return to downtown Charlottesville and we are excited to partner with Stony Point on their food hall concept,” Duke Fox, VP of Star Hill sales, says. “Located just blocks from our original location on Main Street, the new Dairy Market location will allow us to reach our customers in a location that pays tribute to our roots in Downtown Charlottesville.” The Dairy is expected to have more news in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for updates. 

Go

Albemarle Country Fair started on Thursday, but you still have two days to enjoy the festivities. Head on out to the grounds of James Monroe’s Highland (2050 James Monroe Parkway) Friday, July 26 and Saturday, July 27 from 10am-9pm for an “Old-Time Country Fair” experience, complete with farm animals, exhibits, baked goods, crafts, carnival rides, livestock, and good old-fashioned fun! 

Play

There’s beach party right here in Charlottesville every Sunday afternoon all summer that you don’t want to miss. If you haven’t checked it out yet, head on down to IX Park on Sunday, July 28 from 1-4pm for this week’s theme, IX Beach Club Boardwalk Madness. In addition to four tons of sand, there will be snow cones, fortune tellers, temporary tattoos and everything else you love about the boardwalk, with live hip-hop and R&B. Bring your beach chairs and sunscreen, and don’t forget you hydrate. This is a super fun, free event for the whole family. 

Taste

Early Mountain Vineyards is thrilled to welcome their new executive chef Tim Moore to the Early Mountain Team! Tim joins Early Mountain after seven years at the Inn at Little Washington where he drew inspiration from Chef Patrick O’Connell’s combination of classic technique with modern flair, as well as the restaurant’s prestigious status as a 30-year-old institution, which has consistently attracted customers from around the world. 

Tim is excited to bring The Virginia Table to life at the winery – reaping the benefit of living near local farmers and purveyors, bringing classical technique and local sourcing to a modern, accessible menu.  Stop in soon to enjoy some wine and their evolving menu. 

Early Mountain Vineyards | 6109 Wolftown-Hood Road, Madison | 540.948.9005 Hours: 

Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday 11am - 6pm CLOSED Tuesday

[cemo-roid]

An Impossible Fight... Is It?

It wasn’t even a Glock, but the guns... or rather, the Railguns was modified to work similarly to it. Instead of using bullets with gunpowder, these Railguns utilized metal balls launched with magnetism and electricity; and it had several buttons instead of triggers

Although it made these Railguns looked like children toys completely unbefitting for the bodyguards, it should have enough power to crush a person's rib when shot at point blank range

“...even so, this thing alone still can't win against a Monster," I commented as I continued to check the Railguns, all while maintaining my running speed. "I guess that's to be expected, huh..."

No matter how advanced the technology behind a weapon was, be it nuclear powered or an actual nuclear bomb itself, it wouldn't be able to defeat even the tiniest Monster. On the other hand, even if a Roze only had a small twig as her weapon, she would be able to defeat a big Monster on her own. Roxie's case, although a rare case on its own, was a prime example of that

The research was still ongoing as to why such discrepancy happened, but two rules could be found out regarding Roze and the Monsters; a Monster could only be defeated by a Roze, and a Roze's 'true potential' could only be unlocked by her Trainer

"...15V.” I checked the LCD screen on both Railguns, only to notice they both displayed the same things. “I don't know whether this means I have 15 Volts left or 15 more bullets, but I guess I shouldn't fire this randomly"

While Rozes could actually be categorized as superhumans, Trainers were still normal people. Rozes could endure numerous fatal attacks from Monsters, but a single normal strike could be deadly enough to kill a Trainer

Hence, it was common knowledge that a Trainer should NOT engage a Monster without being accompanied by his or her Roze

This is for reloading, this for rapid-fire burst... and this must be the Unload button

After confirming the usage of each thing on the Railguns, I was about to increase my running speed... but then I saw a Monster walking a fair distance in front of me

Seeing that it was alone, the thought to quickly approach it and knock it down crossed my mind for a moment, but then I saw silver hair hanging on its shoulder

......so much for being able to take them down on your own...

I tried to run as silent as I could, but the Monster immediately turned around when I was still 10 steps away from it. It let out a beastly snarl for a moment before throwing its ‘baggage’ to the side and spread out its arms... and began charging at me

*KIIAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!*

“-!”

Right as the Monster was a few steps away from me, it tried to grab my body with its arms... but I dodged by sliding between his legs. I pressed the burst button and shot out three times, dropping the value to 6V as 9 bullets flew out of the Railgun

However, the bullets merely collided against its body and bounced off its skin before they get embedded on the wall

“...this isn’t good...”

On the other hand, after firing the Railgun three times in rapid-fire mode, the nozzle was starting to let out a burnt smell. Not only that, the Railgun had become extremely hot, perhaps already scalding my own hands

From how it looked, the Railgun would definitely explode after firing it one more time... and I highly doubted that it would leave even the smallest injury

...now then, what should I do...

"...where... am I...”

And at such extraordinary timing, the unconscious princess finally woke up in a daze behind me. As if reacting to that, the Monster snarled once again and began to rush at me for the second time

In response, I pressed the unload button and threw the overheating Railgun upwards, before turning around and grabbing the girl’s body as I ran

“W-Wha-!?”

“Close your eyes and shut your mouth! NOW!!”

Right after I shouted that, the Railgun exploded, causing the ceiling to cave in behind me. I instinctively went close to the wall and crouched down, enduring the shockwave coming from behind me

When the dust finally settled down, I glanced behind me... and noticed a wall of rocks and debris had blocked the path

......very smart, Sergia. You just locked yourself with no way to return...

[my-dear-hammy]

Basking in Firelight-Jamilton Sequel-Part Seventeen

Masterpost

Part Seventeen: Stitches and Seams

Warnings below

—-

“Phase Two,” Hamilton said, turning back to the squad, “Everyone knows where you’re going to be?” Everyone affirmed. “Good, let’s move.”

The base may be completely gone, but they still had to get the rebel forces out, if they couldn’t do that, then the entire mission would fail. Hamilton loaded a flare gun, just in case things fell through. Mulligan and Peggy had already disappeared, Burr and Lafayette just vanished into the tree. Jefferson walked up to him, clapped him on the shoulder, “Good luck Hamilton,” he said before walking past him and disappearing into the shadows with Madison, sniper slung across his back. Hamilton watched him go.

“Ready?” Laurens asked.

“Yeah,” Hamilton said distractedly, staring at where Jefferson disappeared, something didn’t feel right. He shook his head to clear it, “Let’s go.” He and Laurens charged off into the trees. “Check in,” Hamilton said into his radio.

“Bravo 1 on the move,” Jefferson’s voice came through.

“Bravo 2 on the move,” Madison said.

“Charlie 1 on the move,” Burr answered.

“Charlie 2 on the move,” Lafayette said next.

“Delta 1 on the move,” Mulligan replied.

“Delta 2 on the move,” Peggy said.

Laurens didn’t bother checking in because he was running right next to Hamilton, so there was no point. After several minutes, Hamilton and Laurens split up and headed for their positions on opposite sides of a road, they could still see each other. Their job was to keep any Governmentals from coming down this road to cut off the rebel retreat.

“Team Alpha, in position,” Hamilton said over the radio. Team Charlie would have the same exact position as them but on the opposite side of the compound. Delta would be covering the path the rebels would be walking down any minute. Bravo team was split up, Madison was covering Charlie and Jefferson would be covering them, team Alpha.

“Team Charlie, in position,” Lafayette said.

Hamilton waited for a couple more minutes before Peggy’s voice finally came on, “Delta, in position." 

Several more minutes passed. "Bravo 1, in position,” Jefferson said.

Almost immediately, Madison’s voice followed, “Bravo 2, in position.”

Everyone was ready. Now all they had to do was wait. The minutes stretched by. “Friendly contact, rebels have reached checkpoint Delta,” Peggy informed.

Still no sign of enemy forces. Everything was going great.

***

Everything fell apart.

It seemed as if the entire governmental army descended on the roads protected by Charlie and Alpha, Hamilton and Laurens, and Lafayette and Burr. Charlie’s defense broke. Their voices had come over the radio shouting that they were in full retreat. Hamilton’s one defense broke minutes later, as his position was overrun, they were just so badly outnumbered.

Hamilton was running. He had no idea where Laurens was. Enemy soldiers step in front of him and then drop and a bullet tore through their skull. Jefferson was still holding his end with his silenced rifle. “Delta, fall back and warn the rebels that they’re about to be pinned on both sides,” Hamilton shouted over the radio. Tree bark exploded next to Hamilton’s face as a bullet embedded itself in the trunk.

Shit. That was close. Hamilton spun and dropped the figure that had fired at him and kept running. Plan B. Jefferson was in charge of Plan B. Plan Bravo. Hamilton just had to get clear before it could be executed. 

KABOOM

There it was.

Hamilton stumbled forward as the concussion wave hit him. He must’ve just gotten clear. That meant everyone else was too. Jefferson just detonated the charges planted along the two roads where the main force of the governmental army was marching on. Hamilton whooped as he continued to run. He glanced up at the hill that Jefferson would be sniping from, he could almost feel Jefferson watching him.

That’s when a tank round exploded into the hill.

“No…” Hamilton changed course. He feet pounded against the ground, his breaths came fast and labored as he pushed himself at full speed up the hill. As he topped it, he saw Jefferson staggering to his feet, blood dripping down his face.

“That was rude!” he screamed at the enemy tank that could be seen a ways off. “Oh, hey Hamilton,” he smiled, wiping the blood away uselessly as more streamed down. “What’re you doing here?”

A whistling in the air announced another incoming round. “Get down!” Hamilton shouted, tackling Jefferson. The round soared over their heads and exploded a distance away.

“If you wanted a hug, you just had to say so,” Jefferson rasped, trying to regain air to his lungs. Hamilton scrambled off.

“We gotta move,” Hamilton said, pulling Jefferson to his feet.

“Where to?”

“I think anywhere will work, just not here.”

***

They found a cave to stay in for the night.

“As far as caves go, I give it three stars,” Jefferson said, shucking off his coat. Hamilton noticed it was the one he had designed for the rally and he did exactly what Hamilton did to his, dyed it a more earthy color that would blend in with the terrain. It seems neither of them thought such reinforced material should go to waste.

“Only three?” Hamilton asked, “But it’s got the classic movie cave structure and everything.”

“Be that as it may, the wind blows right into the mouth of the cave. It’s like a wind tunnel. I hope you’re in for a cold night.”

The radio crackled to life, “Hamilton? Hamilton are you still alive,” Laurens asked.

Hamilton reached for the radio and replied, “Yeah Laurens, I’m fine-”

“I’m fine too! Thanks for asking!” Jefferson called over his shoulder.

“What’s your position?” Hamilton asked.

“Oh thank God. I found Peggy and Mulligan,” Laurens listed off their coordinates.

“Okay, try and find your way back to the main force in the morning, but for now, feel free to have a slumber party,” Hamilton said.

“I better be invited to this party,” Lafayette’s voice came on.

“I’m good,” Burr’s voice cut in, “I’m happy where I’m at thank you.

"Burr, Lafayette! Glad to hear from you! Is Madison there too?” Hamilton asked

“Yeah, yeah, he’s here. He’s not doing too well though. I think he’s sick.”

“I’m always sick you miscreant, look at yourself!” Madison yelled from the background, “You got shot through the leg, Lafayette!”

“Tis’ but a flesh wound,” Lafayette said.

“You got shot?” Hamilton asked.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Lafayette said good heartily.

“You can’t walk,” Burr said, “Madison and I practically carried you here.”

“Okay, okay, just look after yourselves. Get some sleep. Don’t waste the radio battery,” Hamilton said by way of dismissing everyone and closing the conversation.

“Well, no one can’t say they’re not dedicated to our cause after this,” Jefferson commented.

Hamilton looked over at him, “You’ve got blood all over your face.”

“Tis’ but a flesh wound!’ Jefferson cried, imitating Lafayette. "I’m fine. I think it stopped bleeding,” he said, gingerly prodding his head with his fingers.

“Let me see,” Hamilton walked over and crouched over Jefferson, pushing his hair out of the way to get a better look.

Jefferson watched Hamilton intently as Hamilton studied his head. “How is it doc?”

“You’ll live,” Hamilton replied, opening his packing and pulling out some disinfectant, a needle, and string.

“This feels oddly familiar,” Jefferson commented.

“Oh? You don’t mean to tell me you’ve been shot at by a tank before?”

“No, it’s just-” Jefferson gaze unfocused, trying to grasp a memory or the memory of a dream, “Didn’t stitch up you head one time?” Jefferson asked, unsure.

“No.”

“I could’ve sworn-” Jefferson shook his head slightly, “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t move, I might accidentally stab you,” Hamilton reprimanded.

“Don’t do that.”

“Then don’t move.” Hamilton finished up and cut the extra string off. “There, all done, you can move again.” Hamilton packed away his supplies and sat down next to Jefferson, resting his head against the wall, eyes closed.

Jefferson watched Hamilton, a small smile one his lips. Hamilton still had face paint and mud smeared through his hair and all over his face. Jefferson probably did too, but it was cute on Hamilton.

Jefferson could’ve sworn there was a time when he stitched up Hamilton’s head. When was it? He ran through every day since they met, he wouldn’t forget a day like that, would he? Jefferson met for the first time when Hamilton was about to get eaten alive by a mob. Right after that, they got kidnapped and they had no medical supplies for stitching injuries in there, and after that…Hamilton was right, Jefferson never did do anything like that. Weird. Then why did he remember it? It was probably just a dream.

—-

Warnings:Blood, injuries

[multifandom-damnation]

First Time pt 2

The first time Kori had to stitch up her boys, they had just come home from a drug bust. 

Jason kicked the door open, making the hinges creak and breaking the lock again as he stumbled through the front door, hand pressing on his shoulder. He went to a cabinet and pulled out a first aid kit then plonked himself down on a kitchen chair with a groan, removing his hand along with the roughly put on bandages wrapped around his shoulder. He pulled out alcohol rub and some new bandages, placing them on the table beside him, then grabbed a pair of tweezers. 

Kori came next, Roy’s arm slung over her neck. He was hopping on one leg and it looked puffier than it should be and the arm that wasn’t currently occupied was around his middle, holding in a bleeding patch, breath coming in wheezes. Kori herself was fine, she is nearly indestructible and it takes a lot to hurt her, but she was still bleeding from a cut on her arm from where she got sloppy and tried to take on more than she could handle, leaving her right side open for a throwing knife to embed itself deep in her arm. She had the general aches and pains that came with being thrown about like a doll and lifting heavy machinery that would usually only be lifted by a crane, but she was used to that. 

She pulled another chair out from the table with a rough squealing on the kitchen tiles, back facing Jason and sat Roy down on it. He grunted as he knocked his leg against the table, letting out a hiss as he tried to move it again. Squelching was coming from behind Roy. “For the love of- “Jason was jabbing the tweezers into the hole in his shoulder, trying to fish out the bullet. “I don’t remember this being so hard.” 

With a look at Roy to make sure he was alright, and a nod accompanied by a jerk of the head to tell her to help him, a whispered “wait for me”, Kori left Roy and floated to Jason’s side, slapping his hand away and taking the tweezers. “You’re going to push in deeper,” she scolded him as he opened his mouth to question her. “Then what are you going to do? We won’t be able to get it out.” The whites of Jason’s eyes showed as he rolled them back into his head when Kori started dressing his wound, but he sat back without another word. 

It hurts her, to see the people she loved in so much pain. How men with defences and walls built so high up an army couldn’t reach their castle within. With wit and strength to back up their every movement, every thought, every action. To see men, who spent their whole lives question who they are and where they belonged in the world, finally find a place where they feel like they fit in getting torn down into a broken mess of stinking blood and tears. To have two of the strongest people she knows get hurt badly enough that it leaves them moaning and sobbing on the bathroom floor, a bottle of painkillers in one hand, gagged with a towel to muffle the noise and fingers stained red and rust brown from digging for a bullet with their bare hands. She hates it, and it hurts her. Almost as much as it hurts them. 

“Have you got it yet?” Jason asked her, voice tight with pain and a white-knuckled grip on the table leg. “Not yet,” she told him, as she pulled a small torch they stole from a dentist and directed the light to the bullet hole. “It’s in really deep.” 

A grunt and the snap of bone being jerked back into place caught Kori’s attention and she snapped her head up to look at Roy, who had tied a scarf that was on the floor around his leg and the base of the TV stand, and had pulled his leg hard enough that the bone had slipped back where it was supposed to be and the skin levelled out a bit more. Kori could hear his breaths coming in quick wheezing gasps and tears glistening in his wide eyes as he blinked them away before they could leave trail tracks down his face. He put his arm on the table and buried his face in the crook of his elbow, facing away from Kori. His breathing was short bursts of gasps that wavered and he was shaking, trembling so badly she could she the hairs on his head jostle and rearrange themselves. 

Jason gasped against her and squeezed his eyes shut tight as Kori found the edge of the bullet and pulled, trying to dislodge it. “Roy!” She called as Jason tipped his head back, resting on Roy’s shoulder. He turned his head in confusion and opened his eyes to look at Roy, whose neck was glistening with sweat. “I told you to wait for me! Are you ok?” 

“Fine,” Roy ground out with clenched teeth, biting back a sob. “Just fine. Fix Jason, then you can help.” 

Kori sighed as she went back to pulling the bullet out of Jason’s shoulder. She was getting some headway; she could see the end of the tweezers. She was going slow, trying not to hurt him but by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed and the sweat shining on his face and the fat droplets falling down under his collar, she was hurting him more that she thought. But he didn’t say anything. “Stop trying to be a hero,” she said to Roy as he shifted. “We already have Jason for that, I don’t need you to be emotionally stunted when it comes to pain and taking care of yourself, it won’t do anything but hurt you.” Jason gave a snort from above her but otherwise didn’t say anything. 

“You didn’t say that when I took the bullet for you,” Roy said. It was true. Kori relived the memory Roy taking a bullet meant for her and having it embedded in his abdomen, falling off of the catwalk and breaking his leg on the hard concrete floor 3 flights below.  

“I’m indestructible Roy,” Kori told him, finally pulling the bullet out of Jason. He sighed and his shoulders relaxed, his head falling to rest on his chest. “You didn’t need to do that.” 

“You’re bleeding too, so actually not so indestructible, Princess.” 

She looked at her arm, the wound a dark brown from where the blood had dried and was already clotting to stop the blood from flowing out. “That’s different. I heal faster than you.” 

She grabbed the sewing needle and thread from the first aid kit and placed it on Jason’s arm, threading it in and out until it came out the other side of the wound and closed. She broke the string and stood. “Don’t move an inch.” She told Jason and received a quiet “Mmmmm” in return. She made her way over to Roy, who was pressing his arm into his stomach, head on the table and on the verge of tears. Some had even fallen down his face to make a small puddle on the tabletop. 

“Roy,” she whispered, placing an arm on his shoulder. His face was pale and pain stricken, sweat beading on his brow. His arm tightened around his middle and he opened his eyes, tears brimming and ready to fall. “It’s ok. Let me help you.” Kori knelt down and moved his hand, unclipping his chest armour and placing it on the floor beside her. She didn’t want to know what the bullet had done to Roy if the bullet was so powerful it could pierce Roy’s armour. The thought made her shiver. 

The bullet in Roy wasn’t as deep as Jason’s was, so Kori grabbed the tweezers and got it out fairly easily. She stitched it up and dressed it, wrapping a bandage around his middle. When she was finished she bent down to get a look at his leg for the first time and a hiss slipped past her lungs. His leg was swollen and puffy, deep purple bruises went around the break like waves, all around the leg. It was like someone had given a toddler a paintbrush and left them alone with purples and blues and blacks and Roy’s leg was the canvas. 

“This is bad Roy,” Kori said, looking up at him again. “I’m going to need to put it in a splint, and take you to the hospital in the morning.” She untied the scarf from around his leg and walked to get a piece of wood from the backyard. She grabbed 2 of Jason’s belts from their bedroom and some towels from the hallway cupboard. 

“Don’t bother looking for the splint Kori,” Jason called from the kitchen. “I gave it to Tim last time he came. Broke his ankle the idiot.” 

Ah. That explains it. 

She walked back into the bedroom and dug around until she found two of Roy’s bandannas, and made her way back to the boys. When she got there, she saw Jason passing Roy a bottle of painkillers and her throat tightened as he then dry-swallowed five with a visibly shaking hand. Kori didn’t bother to tell him not to and just walked past them to the kitchen to get an ice pack from the fridge. 

Roy whistled as she walked by him, and when she turned around Jason was smirking.

“What?” She asked, coming back around to kneel at Roy’s feet. 

“An ass like that should be illegal.”

Jason burst into loud booming laughter that made him shake and Kori watched as he grabbed hold of his shoulder with the bullet hole when it started hurting. Kori grinned as she placed the ice pack on Roy’s leg. He hissed at the sudden icy cold. She took it off and wrapped it in a towel and put it back. She grabbed the wood and put it on the side of his leg, using Jason’s belts to secure it in place. Then she used the bandanas and tied it around the foot and ankle. She gently lifted the leg and Roy gasped as he yanked some chairs together and put the rolled up towels on them, placing Roy’s leg on them. 

“Doctors tomorrow.” She told him as she stood up. “Both of you. And no exceptions.” 

“Kori,” Jason had bent her head back to look at her, so he was looking upside-down. “Can’t we just go to the cave and get Alfred to do it? I’m technically dead on Gotham’s records and everyone will ask what happened to Roy, and we can’t exactly tell them. I’ll just call up Alfred in the morning and we’ll all head down.” 

Kori thought for a moment before she nodded. “That’s acceptable.” 

“Good,” Roy said, closing his eyes slightly. “Now, can someone get me a beer? I just wanna relax.” 

Kori laughed, bending down to plant a slow kiss to Roy’s lips. She pulled away with a chuckle when he gave a startled noise and snapped his eyes open. She walked over to Jason and did the same thing, except Jason wasn’t surprised and kissed her back instantly. 

When they decided to call it a night, Jason and Kori had stolen the couch and had forced Roy onto the recliner, and they fell asleep to the TV silently staining their bodies neon pinks and pastel blues and with ravens cawing in the trees outside. 

That was the first time Kori had to stitch up her boys.

Thank you to @the-casual-cheesecake for helping me edit and @goshparticle for being patient with me when I asked: “what does a broken bone look like?” even though they had no idea