#ah yeah and i guess she's not getting the iron and the table mirror anymore. and the usb jacks on my extension cord too

[arnold-layne]

anybody got any advice on how to wage war against your roommate without direct confrontation

[imstillworkingonit]

CR AU: When Jester was not there to answer the door

I fell into the widojest hole about a month ago (literally reactivated my tumblr to follow the tag) and had some FEELINGS about yesterday’s episode and the potential conversations that could have been had if things had been a little bit different. I’ve never attempted fanfiction before, but here’s the AU oneshot for if Jester hadn’t been there to answer Fjord’s knock. I wrote it directly after the episode through the night, so please excuse any glaring characterization errors or typos. This is just what my brain needed to do. (Also, no hate to the budding romance between our handsome half-orc and adorable tiefling—they’re not my favorite ship but they’re still friggin precious.)

>>>>>>

It was not a sudden realization. Jester’s incessant flirting had waned over the past months, and while her initial words had sounded childish to him, the lack thereof was jarring. Fjord missed it. Then came the little moments, where Jester’s light shone so bright it blinded him, even through closed eyelids. She was, indeed, very charming. Hard not to enjoy her company, really.

So when he saw her, frozen in the middle of those stone statues, his world stopped. What is a world without her smile, her laugh, her brightness? Her constant joy that had helped tear him away from the darkness that was his past?

But she came out of it. Shocked, scared, changed, but alive. And then the fear came. The bitter winds of Eiselcross tore through his winter coat, but his body was too warm. The adrenaline that typically came with a fight kicked in, and he began triaging. Gathering information that had cost too much. All the while, in the back of his mind: “I could have lost you.” and “I have to keep you close.” and “I need to tell you how dear you are to me.” So he began rehearsing.

Words had always come easy to him, but there was too much he wanted to say. “I promised your mother I would protect you.” “I don’t want to see you throwing yourself into danger.” “I want to keep you close and never let go.” How far is too far? It took longer than he expected after dinner and the evening’s events and interrogations to properly finalize what he wanted to say. It was the fear in the pit of his stomach that allowed him to spend only a brief few seconds considering what Jester’s response to his declarations would be. Fear, and perhaps a lack of doubt about her response.

Fjord made his way up to the bedroom floors of the tower, and he knocked on her door. “Jester?”

There was no response. He waited for a breath and a half, face hot, and head down, then knocked again. “Jester, are you in there?”

He waited for another minute or so, resisting the desperate curiosity. Is she in there and just doesn’t want to see him? That wasn’t true, was it? But if not, where could she be?

…

After Jester left the tower’s dining area, she went directly to her bathroom. Without looking in the mirror, she carefully shrugged the layers of her winter clothes off and daintily folded them beside her. One at a time. They felt different on her now, somehow wrong. Once they were all removed, Jester slowly brought her eyes up, and made eye contact with herself in the mirror. Moving slowly, she traced the lines of her face. The difference between one’s early twenties and their late twenties isn’t a lot, especially for blue tieflings with pretty rockin’ genetics. It is, however, a lot to see at once.

Her horns were indeed ¾ of an inch longer than they were. She pulled at her hairline, checking for… yes. There they were. A smattering of shimmering silver hairs interspersed with the blue. Not too many, just a couple on each side, but noticeable to her. Her fingers traced down her face. Some of her remaining baby fat had gone—she finally saw her mama’s cheekbones on her own face, and there was also something in her more defined jawline that reminded her of the Gentleman. There were, in addition to the cheekbones, lines on her face for the first time. The tiniest of crows feet, some smile lines around her mouth. Those… those would take some getting used to.

Her hands moved downward, poking and prodding at the skin of her collarbones and down her arms. Her skin feels different. Less hydrated, less springy. Older. Her breasts were fuller, perhaps her hips were as well, but everything just… off. Unrecognizable, even to an artist’s touch.

Her fingers stopped prodding and started scratching, itchy in a blink. This skin, this body, is not really mine. It belongs to some older woman, who just looks exactly like me.

The panic came not just from the change in her body—it also came from the loss of what she could have done with all that time.

How many pranks won’t be pranked because I lost the years that I was going to do them? What if my brain is different too, and that this new future Jester brain, when it catches up, won’t love painting, and dicks, and pranks? What if the Traveller doesn’t bother with me anymore, decides I’ve changed and I’m not fun enough? I got my statue question answered, but how much am I going to lose? Oh... Traveller. What if the Nein only kept me around for my smile, my sunshine? Will I lose that? 

This will pass. This feeling has to pass.

She found herself curled on the bathroom floor, staring into nothing, eyes aching with unshed tears. In half a moment, she was on her feet, groaning with new pains, and grabbing a nightgown and robe. Not her usual, ostentatiously and horrendously pink ones, but a peach-ish set. She stared around at her room, at the winter clothes she’d paid a fortune for, at the corner of the secret Nicodranas painting on the canopy over her bed, and even that felt wrong somehow.

Imposter.

She picked up her sketchbook, but couldn’t find it in herself to open it. What could she say to the Traveller: “Hi Artie, guess what, I just lost five years and I’ll never get them back. I had really great plans for all of my time on the earth and now I’ve lost part of that. I’m still here but I’ve lost part of me. I’m haunted by what the statues gave me and what they took. I can’t get the image of what they showed out of my head, and I’m afraid to show any of my friends anything less than my best new smile because that’s all they need from me.” Yeah, that conversation would go well.

The Traveller wouldn’t understand. No one could. Except… someone who had lost years themselves.

She found herself at Caleb’s door.

…

Caleb couldn’t deny that he appreciated what age had done for Jester’s appearance. She had always been a beautiful woman, but now it was shockingly apparent. He had foolishly blurted that out twice too many times upon the discovery of this change, this loss, as well. But it’s something that she needed reinforced, because gods she’s young—so young—and five years at that age is fifteen for anyone else. Not that he would know, he’d lost that time too.

She seemed fine, though distressed at first, and was back to her cheerful self in short order. The rest of the Nein followed her lead, and all seemed well throughout dinner. Caleb was not keeping a closer eye on Jester throughout dinner, he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but notice that, whenever Jester thought there weren’t any eyes on her, her eyes went dark. Her smile became increasingly hollow as the meal progressed, and she departed quickly. Caleb’s ever-sharp mind immediately reminded him that this was Jester’s facade cracking, just as it had done after the Iron Shepherds. Her steps, as she moved away from the tables, were fragile too, as if she wasn’t sure she could rely on her own feet.

He bid his own goodbyes to the remaining members of the group shortly afterward. He had research to do. For someone as full of life as Jester to lose her youth, her confidence in herself, to be haunted so deeply from the actions taken in the blink of an eye… he knew there had to be a way to reverse it, he just needed to figure out how. Of all the arcane tomes he’d devoured during his early days at the Academy, of all the snippets and scrolls he’d glanced through on the road or in random bookshops, something had to have the answer. He just needed to find it.

In the back of his mind, he was reminded: To show her you love her, but never say it.

“Georg, Cinnamon, Pancake, Rickon, please gather all the compatriots you can, and bring me all research in this tower that may include information on powerful restorative spells accessible to an arcane caster such as, ah, yours truly. Thank you.” The cats nodded in understanding and padded off in search of Caleb’s requested materials.

It was but a few minutes before a parade of amber-colored cats came back through the cat-flaps, each one carrying a tome, a scroll, or a report. Once the cats placed their selections near the small desk in the corner, they disappeared back through the cat-flaps, and Caleb settled down to work. It will be a long night of research, Ermendrud. Buckle in.

Caleb, after no more than twenty one and a half minutes, was broken out of his research reverie by a quiet, brisk knock at the door. “Caleb?” Jester’s voice whispered.

Ah, sheisse. Jester. What could she possibly want from the tower’s resident eccentric and broken old man? What could she possibly want that I have?  “Coming.” Caleb quickly closed and stacked the research materials behind him, and opened the door a crack.

She stood in the doorway with doll-like eyes. Glassy and empty. Her body was slouched, nothing like the confident woman from this morning. She didn’t say a word.

“Ah, Jester. What can I do for you?” She shrugged, looking hollowly past Caleb’s shoulder. A smile flashed across her lips, but not for long. It was a cruel and empty smile, a smile found much more commonly on his own face than on hers. Jester’s facade had finally broken.

It wasn’t that long ago that that hollow look had been plastered on his own face. The Nein had not been together that long. Before them, Caleb had been a cruel and empty man. He knew those eyes, and he knew that smile. Because not long ago that he’d woken up in the sanatorium and realized that he’d lost eleven precious years of life, of learning, of youth. Of pain and suffering and truth and forgiveness. Those eleven years of his would not have been good ones, with the ripples of Ikithon’s effect reverberating, but he still ached with that loss. That loss for Jester, who had so much good, so much passion, so much enthusiasm...five of her years were worth fifty of his.

They stood together in the doorway, living their individual losses, for just over three minutes. Caleb, eventually, shook himself. None of that matters, Ermendrud. She’s here because she knows you’ve experienced something similar. She needs a friend that shares this.

He cleared his throat, voice hoarse with disuse or emotion. “Please, Jester, come in. I have...ah...another story for you. Not a children’s tale this time, but I believe it still has a good ending.”

A faint knocking floated up from the floor below, followed by Fjord’s quiet call of “Jester.” Caleb raised his eyebrows at her, locking eyes with her for the first time since her arrival at his door. Meeting her, hollow stare to hollow stare. She shrugged, shook her head, and moved forward into Caleb’s room, taking her seat on the couch. It hadn’t been too many days since he’d read Der Katenprinz to her, but it seemed like eons now.

Jester looked up from the couch, patting the space next to her. “Fjord, you know… he just wouldn’t really understand. I don’t want to explain it to him. I know I don’t really understand either, and I’m really confused about what I saw today, and what’s going to happen now that I’m… like this.” She gestured to her changed face. “But I don’t think I can talk to him about it without it seeming...childish. You know?”

Caleb nodded, and sat down. They stared off in companionable silence for thirty seven seconds, until he began telling Jester his own story. She’s heard most of it before, but not in order and not all at once. He didn’t skip over anything, but he did spend the most time on his time in the sanatorium, and the time that immediately followed. To share with her how it felt for him, to let her know that feeling the loss of that time was normal. Halfway through his story, her hands started shaking. Steeling himself with a breath, he wrapped his long fingers over hers. She was very cold, he could share his warmth.

Jester looked at him, eyes wide, still innocent, but with an incredible intent on deciphering something. “The change is hard and it’s shocking, Jester, and I’m sorry you must deal with it. I know you must feel wrong, uncomfortable in your own skin and unsure about everything around you.” If he was not holding her hands, he would be scratching his arms.

She nodded, and cleared her throat. “That is...yes. That’s part of it, I think? I know it sounds weird, but I think I might be mourning? Like… all I can think about are all of the things that I could have done with that time. And if losing it will change me enough that no one will like me enough to keep me around anymore. What if the Nein and the Traveller get sick of the new, old me?”

Caleb squeezed her fingers. “These are fair concerns. But no, getting sick of you, at the very least, is impossible. I refuse to speak for the rest of the Nein or your god but I swear I could never get sick of you. And if I did speak for them, they would say the same. You’re the group’s smile, Jester, but you’re also its heart. Its soul. You’re an incredibly powerful woman who can play tricks on and kick the asses of incredibly powerful creatures. I would fo-- hmmm.”

“Yes, Caleb?”

“Ah, well… I would follow you anywhere. I trust your judgement. You see the world and everyone in it in a unique light, and it is incredible to behold. I-- we are lucky to have you. It is difficult not to lo-- care for you, no matter who you grow into. And I will strive to ensure your days for the foreseeable future are filled with enough adventure and entertainment to make up for the lost ones. I can enlist the Chaos Crew to assist.” A wry grin appeared at the corner of his mouth, just for a second.

Jester looked down at her hands, completely enveloped by Caleb’s. They’re no longer shaking.

“And that is the short-term. I swear on my spellbook and on your holy symbol that I will do everything in my power to get the time back for you, to restore the years you’ve lost. I have already begun the research.” Caleb gestured back to the stack of pages and books spilling across the desk.

The ghost of a furrowed brow passed across Jester’s face, then something that resembled a smile. “Caleb, as your first act of helping me... will you please make your room look like Hupperdook, like you did while we were eating the other day?” 

Three seconds passed as Caleb swallowed the request, then nodded. “Uhhh… ja, of course.” He used major illusion to again replicate Hupperdook’s tavern as closely as possible—with the exception of the fireworks. Some sparks were of pink dicks and green cloaks, some were red books and orange cats. There were some multicolored cats wearing cloaks, or playing with dicks. And there was a single book with a small dick in the corner of the page. The page for the spell “Friends.”

Jester’s eyes lit up the tiniest bit watching the animated illusion, and Caleb couldn’t help but admire how the illusory fireworks sparked and crackled in her eyes. A sudden courage gripped him as he pulled Jester to her feet. “As my second act of assistance, Jester… I would like us to revisit the waltz. So you can enjoy a dance with an individual who does not have two left feet, and who is not more booze than man, and know that you are still just as capable and as erapturing as you were those many months ago.”

A giggle escaped from Jester’s lips, and he could see her again, putting together the pieces and cautiously probing the new shape of the world. Caleb inclined his head to his dance partner, and she pulled his arms into the dance’s starting position. Caleb, with a nod to the tower surrounding them, started the music as the steps began. They danced in companionable silence for precisely eight minutes and twelve seconds, gazing contentedly at the illusion around them and at their dance partner before them. Caleb tried to avoid looking at Jester too closely, but he couldn’t help but notice a darker purple flush high on her cheeks. A trick, perhaps, or a product of the surrounding illusion.

On that thirteenth second of the ninth minute, Jester shifted her hand from cupping his shoulder to looping around his neck, and removed her hand from his, only to wrap it around his waist. Her head now rested plainly on his chest, directly over his fast-beating heart.

“You know, Caleb, you’re pretty okay for being a stinky wizard.”

Caleb froze, but only for a second. His arms moved to hold her in a light embrace, their bodies fitting together like a slightly-fractured puzzle. The dancers just started to sway in place. “Ah, I would like to think so. Okay is good. You know, you will be alright Blueberry.”

With her head to his chest, Caleb could make out her quiet words, and the true smile on her face: “It will take time, I think. And help. But I hope so.” She paused for a moment. “And Cayleb? This is a good ending to your story.”

[adenei]

Could you write about Ron and Hermione going to a Halloween party and wearing a matching couples costume please 🥺

Hi Hufflepuff Pixie! Or do you prefer Pixie Puff (as I feel like I’ve seen on my feed from other mutuals?) Ah, no matter! Thanks for the ask! Once I got past the writer’s block of the actual costumes, this was a fun one to write! Hope you enjoy!

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

Halloween at the Hog’s Head

“Hermione, are you sure this was a good costume choice?” Ron asked as he was looking in the mirror. He was dressed in a grey button up under his black dress suit. He was reluctantly tying a red scarf around his neck, and then placing a Gatsby hat on his head.

“Of course it’s a good costume choice!” Hermione came out of the bathroom dressed in a pleated maxi skirt, ruffled white blouse and red bow tie under a peplum blazer, and fedora with Gerber daisies hot glued to it. She went to the bed where she sat down to put on the Victorian boots she’d acquired for her costume. 

“I just don’t see how this makes sense. We’re going to have to explain who we are to everyone at the Hog’s Head. Most witches and wizards have no idea about muggle movies,” Ron shook his head.

“Ron, you’re the one who wanted to dress up. You know I don’t really enjoy the whole costume scene. I’d much rather dress up as a movie character than some of those completely rubbish punny costumes. I think being Mary Poppins and Bert is a clever idea. You love muggle movies, and this was one of my favorites growing up. The book and the movie,” Hermione tried to reassure him.

“Yeah. Fits us, too. You’re the uptight rule follower that quietly loves the whimsy of the adventure while I’m the more laid-back, all for it type” Ron said with a lopsided grin.

“Just for that, now you’re definitely getting the charcoal makeup on your face,” Hermione shot back playfully. She got up and grabbed the eye shadow, and brushed some on various parts of his face. Hermione was almost done, and then doubled back to put a little smudge on his nose.

“Hey! Bert doesn’t have soot on his nose.” Ron went to wipe it off with his arm, but Hermione grabbed his arm to stop him.

“No! Leave it, please?” she asked him.

“Why?” Ron furrowed his eyebrows as he asked.

“Because it reminds me of the first day on the train. When I told you that you had dirt on your nose.” Her cheeks felt hot as they flushed with color. 

They’d been together for a little over two years, but Hermione still became embarrassed sometimes when she made the realizations that she had been looking that closely at him as early as that first day on the train. Ron’s face softened as he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.

“It’s really quite adorable when you admit that you were staring when we were younger,” he smiled. “Should we get going then? Harry and Ginny are probably there already.”

Hermione checked her watch. “Oh, yes! We are running late. Grab your chimney sweep!” she said as she grabbed the carpet bag she’d rummaged out of her parent’s attic earlier that week, and they made their way to the fireplace. 

They flooed to the party at the Hog’s Head minutes later, which was already in full swing. Aberforth was tending bar and had managed to acquire a band to play for the evening. All of their friends were there, and Ron and Hermione made their way through to the bar for a drink before finding Harry and Ginny at a table. 

“It’s about time you lot showed up,” Ginny said as they sat down. It looked as though she and Harry were dressed as Ariel and Prince Eric from the Little Mermaid.

“Nice costumes!” Hermione complimented. “And here Ron thought we’d be the only ones dressed up as muggle movie characters.” She gave Ron a look.

“What can I say, Hermione? Looks like we’ve converted them both into movie lovers,” Harry said as they laughed.

“Ariel’s just so relatable! She’s fun, knows absolutely nothing about muggle objects on land, and is fiercely independent, like me,” Ginny laughed.

“Well, that’s good for you,” Harry grumbled.

“Oh come on, Harry, like you haven’t always wanted to be a Prince?” Ron sniggered.

They continued to fall into an easy banter as Neville and Luna joined them, and other former classmates stopped by to say hello. At one point they got up to go participate in a Butterbeer Pong tournament. Ironically, Ron and Ginny ditched Harry and Hermione to be partners because they were an unstoppable team when they got going. 

Hermione was fine with it as she and Harry mingled and sipped on their drinks, enjoying being on the sidelines of the game after they’d been eliminated fairly quickly. They made their way back over to the finals as Ron and Ginny took on Seamus and Dean. They were neck and neck until Dean missed a shot and Ginny sunk hers. The whole bar roared in applause and Aberforth shot them a dirty look. 

The band started playing soon after and Ron and Hermione made their way to the dance floor. “This is fun,” Hermione said as they moved to the music, their bodies pressed against each other.

“You think so? I didn’t think you were going to enjoy this much. I know you don’t like crowds,” Ron commented.

“Yes, well, it’s not so bad when I get to stare at a fine looking chimney sweep all night,” she said seductively.

“That right? Have I done a decent job of ‘sweeping’ you off your feet?” Ron waggled his eyebrows at the pun. She playfully hit his arm as he pulled her in for a long kiss. 

They reluctantly broke apart, and at that moment in time, Hermione decided that she didn’t want to be on the dance floor anymore. She discreetly looked around, and noticed some of the booths in the back of the bar that looked unoccupied. Hermione knew it was too early to leave yet, but they could disappear for a while, and hopefully no one would notice.

“You know, you’ve got a little something on your nose there,” Hermione raised her eyebrows at him as she gave him a look. “Maybe you could go take care of it in the loo, then meet me back there at one of the empty booths?”

He eyed her as if to catch her meaning before saying, “I think that’s a brilliant idea! Be right there,” as he kissed her cheek.

Hermione went to the bar to get them two more drinks, and made her way to the back of the room. It was a bit quieter away from the band, and she saw the top of Ron’s hat around the booth in the back left corner. She walked over and set the drinks down on the table before sliding into the seat next to him.

They wasted no time locking lips as Ron managed to pull her on top of him and unbuttoned her blazer, sliding it off her shoulders. “Ron,” against his mouth,” We can’t do that. Not here.” She’d observed that he’d lost his own suit coat and the scarf.

“I wasn’t meaning that we had to. It’s bloody warm in here and you can barely move your arms in that. We wouldn’t want to rip it,” Ron responded. 

“Good point,” Hermione said, and then their lips met again as they continued to snog heavily in the back of the bar.

After a while they heard someone clear their throat and they broke apart to see Harry looking disgusted at them. “Last I checked you do have a place to go home to if you wanted to do that.”

“It’s too early to go home yet,” Hermione said as she grabbed her blazer and slid off of Ron’s lap and out of the booth. Ron reached for the rest of his own costume and put it back on.

“Yeah, we were just taking a break, mate. You and Ginny were off with Nev and Hannah, so we just snuck away for a bit. We didn’t ditch you or anything,” Ron assured him.

“Yeah, well they’re about to start the costume contest, so I figured you two might want to rejoin for that,” Harry told them. 

“Er, yes, thank you, Harry,” Hermione said. She and Ron shared guilty smiles as they grabbed their drinks, and followed Harry back to the main room.

They may not have won the costume contest, but Hermione still deemed their choices a success. A group of students who were a couple of years younger than them took the prize for dressing as some of the professors at Hogwarts. They’re costumes were quite impressive. Neville had even thought that the person dressed as Professor McGonagall was the actual Professor McGonagall.

“I still think ours were better,” Ron said to Hermione as they made their way back to the table with Harry and Ginny to enjoy one more drink before calling it a night.

“I guess that means we’ll just have to be more clever next year,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Does that mean you’ll be willing to dress up again?” Ron asked hopefully. Hermione responded only with a smile as they continued on with the rest of their night.

[kimabutch]

“So,” Kima says, from across the dinner table, “tell me about these adventurers of yours.”

It’s Allura’s first evening back in Tal’dorei following her hasty trip to Nicodranas. Kima and the Council both successfully pleaded with her to come home instead of waiting nervously in Yussa’s tower, and Kima even prepared her trademark roast chicken as a welcome-home dinner. From their dining room window in their tower, Allura can see the bird’s eye view of Emon, its stone streets blooming to life with the coming spring. It’s a beautiful and comforting sight — despite the Menagerie Coast’s fine sea views, Emon will always be home. 

Allura sighs, turning to her wife. “I don’t even know where to begin. They’re rather… perplexing.” 

“Well, you’re always saying to start with what you know. Which ones do you know the most about?” Kima says. 

“Right. Well. There’s the wizard, Caleb.” 

“Of course you’d start with the wizard,” Kima says with a playful grin. “Have you met him before?”

Allura returns the smile. “Wizards don’t all know each other, and no, I’ve never met him before. But I’m fairly certain he’s from the Zemnian Fields.”

“Zemni… that’s where we were, right? Rexxentrum? With all those guys that you hated?”

Allura nods in approval. Kima’s never been one for politics, but she tries for her sake, and Allura appreciates the effort. 

“Hate is a strong word, perhaps. I found many of the methods at the Soltryce Academy and the politics among the Cerberus Assembly a little unsettling.”

“Yeah, they were creepy fuckers,” Kima says. “So is this wizard from the Academy?”

“Well, that’s what’s interesting — I’m fairly certain that he’s not aligned with them anymore. Certainly Yussa would not involve himself with an active member of the Assembly, or anyone involved with the Academy. He has a stronger distaste for Rexxentrum than me. Not to mention that he was wearing a cloak that I believe is of Xhorhassian design.”

“Could he have been raised in Zemnia and defected to Xhorhas?”

“Maybe? I can’t imagine how he survived, however. The Empire is not easy on traitors, and Xhorhas is not known for its love of humans.”

“Huh. A tough wizard. Reminds me of someone I know,” Kima says, and Allura can feel her cheeks redden slightly. “Okay, so who else?”

“There’s another human, Beau, but not from Zemnia, as far as I can tell. I can’t quite pinpoint her accent, but by her clothing, she seems to be a monk. She was so clever with Yussa’s notes... I would hazard a guess that she trained with the Cobalt Soul.” 

“Those weird, Ioun-loving librarians? The ones in Vasselheim are always giving us a hard time at the Sanctuary.” 

“Actually, she reminds me a little of you when we were younger,” Allura says.

“How so?”

“Headstrong and… very blunt.” Kima begins sputtering protests, while Allura continues: “But passionate and protective of her friends. Thoughtful and resourceful, too.”

Kima’s protests turn into a blush. “You talk to all your girls that way?” she teases. 

Allura laughs and extends her hand across the table, intertwining her fingers with Kima’s. “Only to my dearest wife.” She rests for a moment, looking into Kima’s impossibly green eyes, crinkled at the edges with a fond smile. “It is strange, however,” she resumes, “that a member of the Cobalt Soul might be adventuring with a wizard who defected from the Assembly. The organizations are separate and Ioun knows that they don’t always get along, but they’re supposedly allies. Perhaps they fled the Empire together. That might explain how Caleb survived.”

“Huh. Well, I like her a bit better now.”

“I thought you would.”

“So that’s two. What about the one that you gave the mirror to?” Kima says. 

“Ah, yes. Jester. A tiefling — from the Menagerie Coast, I believe, given her accent. Certainly they are more prevalent by the Coast.”

“So is she the leader?”

“Perhaps in the same way that Scanlan still calls himself the leader of Vox Machina,” Allura says, and this gets a good laugh out of Kima. “But perhaps I’m being unfair. She is a little bit of a… jokester, as her name would suggest, but she’s clearly very powerful. She’s a mage of some sort, though I doubt that she’s a wizard...”

“So all wizards do know each other!” Kima says triumphantly.

“... Although if she makes use of divine magic, then she was not wearing any holy symbols that I recognized,” Allura continues, with a smile at her wife. “Caduceus, the firbolg, on the other hand — I’m fairly certain he wears Melora’s swirl in his clothing and earrings.”

“Fear… bulg?” Kima says, rolling the word around in her mouth. 

“A reclusive race — I don’t believe I’ve ever met one in Tal’dorei. They’re giant-kin, I believe, but somewhat bovine in appearance. They supposedly have an affinity with nature, which would explain his ties to the Wildmother, but not his interest in continental politics. But we are not bound by the general tendencies of our ancestors, I suppose.” 

“I hope not. Still haven’t met too many halflings that can kick ass,” Kima says. “So what’s the cow-man like?”

Allura stifles laughter at Kima’s unorthodox word choice. “Interesting, once again. He seemed a little confused.” 

“At what?”

“Everything, I suppose. He asked me whether I was a good archmage or a bad archmage.”

Kima rocks back in laughter. “Well, which one is it?”

“I told him that was a difficult philosophical question. Still, he gave me a… discerning look. Not magical, but thoughtful. He’s perhaps more insightful than he might initially appear,” Allura says.  

“Huh. Well, so long as he didn’t enchant you with his nature magic, that’s fine by me.”

“Indeed. His companion didn’t give me much to work with, either.” 

“Companion?” asks Kima.

“Fjord, the half-orc — his armour also seemed to have Melora’s symbol on it. Perhaps I’m assuming too much, however. I don’t know much more about him. He was polite, but quiet. An accent like mine, but that’s not exactly uncommon, even in Wildemount. You might have liked his sword. It was very ornate.”

“Better than my Holy Avenger?” Kima says, gesturing to the platinum greatsword that hangs on the wall. Allura sometimes wishes that she had won the debate about whether weapons should be allowed in the dining area, but she admits that the sword is beautiful. “I’d love to spar with him, though,” she continues. “Sounds like he’s the only one of these adventurers who can hold a sword.” 

“I’m sure you’d take him handily,” Allura says with a smile. “Although, I think there’s one more who can fight. The, ah, goblin, Nott.” 

“A goblin? Now that’s interesting. Haven’t really met one of them since Kraghammer.” Kima wrinkles her brow. “Better not tell Scanlan. He’d have a fit.” 

“I wasn’t planning to, no. I confess, I was surprised by her presence. Excepting Wensforth, I haven’t met many goblins who have ventured out of their clan. I would think that she’s from Xhorhas, where goblins are more openly accepted, except that her accent does not appear to be Xhorhassian in nature. Nor do goblins typically associate with humans — though, I suppose they don’t usually go adventuring into extraplanar device, either, so she’s unusual on several counts. Sneaky, too. She was hiding behind one of Yussa’s books for several minutes before she introduced herself.” 

“Huh. And you said she can hold her own in a fight?” 

“I believe so,” Allura says. “She carried a well-made crossbow with some confidence, and I saw a shortsword by her side. I could have also sworn that she had a pistol on her, but there wasn’t sufficient time to ask.”

“Ha! Better add Percy to the list of people you can’t tell about this.”

“I suppose so. I believe he’s abandoned the notion that he’ll stop the proliferation of his devices, but it does make him so upset.” Allura sighs. “Anyways, that’s the six of them. They call themselves the Mighty Nine.”

“So on top of all that, they can’t count?”

“Perhaps. Or they have other companions that are not with them at this moment. I should really call in some favours with my contacts in the Empire and ask them whether they’ve heard of this party, but I’ve been so busy trying to research this Angel in Irons.” Allura runs her hands through her hair in frustration. “A threat this level, and there’s barely a word on it —” 

Kima gets up from her seat, steps over to Allura, and gently takes her hand. “Ally, it’s okay. I know everyone keeps putting all of Exandria on your shoulders, but if Yussa’s made friends with a bunch of chucklefucks, that’s on him. It’s not your fault, I promise.” Holding her face, Kima kisses Allura deeply. She feels Allura relax in her hands and lay her arms around Kima’s waist. 

As they pull away, still holding each other, Allura smiles and whispers, “I missed you.” 

“Missed you too, babe,” Kima says, kissing her forehead. 

[bloodandpaintchips]

Home

Tagging→ Andrea Sheldon, Johnny Arcos Time Frame→ October 30th, 2020 Location→ Sangren, Colorado General Notes→ Some things to rely on.

Andrea sat outside of her father’s house for a while. Her entire mindset about coming home had surrounded him and again, in such a short time since meeting her mom, she had to rethink her moves entirely. She was getting sick of the rollercoaster, but something in her brain told her it was her own fault for avoiding things for so long. She could have been over this hump, continuing to think Audra was dead and having hobbies. Shaking her head, she put the car in drive and took off, her blue van bouncing down the residential street.

She went to Johnny’s without even thinking about it. She hadn’t planned to show up unannounced on his doorstep asking for a place to live, but her options weren’t vast. Grabbing her duffle bag from behind the seat, Andy stopped the car and got out. She didn’t sit and think about it, she was tired of that and needed a best friend. When she got up to his door, she knocked three times and exhaled.

At the knocks, Johnny lifted his head from where he let it drop to the back of the couch so he could eye the door. Sprawled out in his living room in nothing but boxers and covered with the inked lines of tomorrow's spells, he had been feeling restless for the past few hours - something in his blood that he was not quite able to recognize, not quite anxiety, not quite the moon tugging up the tides... 

"Coming," he said to no one as he pushed himself to his feet. Once at the door, he cracked it opened and, with one eye, took in the sad sight of Andy, long-absent, very-missed, tired-eyed and still wearing those shoes. "My Raggedy One." He let the door fall open completely and beckoned her in with a wave of his hand. "How was your trip?"

Unable to stop her smile, Andy walked in at his invitation and set her bag down by the door. After what felt like a barrage of rejections it felt great to feel the familiarity of his energy and to be let in with no questions asked. That’s what she expected with him, but it was nice to have those expectations met. At his question she sighed and closed the space between them to hug, despite the marks all over him. “Kinda sucked, actually,” she replied, pulling away and shrugging. “I met a lot of assholes, pretended to be different people, was hungry a lot and also I met my mom. How was...home?”

The cool press of her against him was already familiar, he didn't miss any warmth at all, so he just hugged her back just as tightly and let her go when she was ready. "Assholes... Your mother... Have you eaten?" He walked to his forgotten bowl and box of cereal on the coffee table and beckoned at her again, the cat jumping up suddenly into the empty seat meant for Andy. "Home was nice. I did not see my grandmother. The forest misses her."

Andrea took that as a cue to greet the cat, wrapping the black mass into her arms and sitting down once she was holding her. She stroked her head and scratched her ears while she listened to him speak. “I ate enough,” she answered, letting the cat reposition in her lap. “That’s...good, right? I don’t miss the forest. I missed you. Missed Sangren in the fall. Missed my dad, which actually kinda brings me to something I wanted to ask. My dad doesn’t, um, want me home anymore. Well it’s not my home anymore I guess.” She rolled her eyes at herself and let the cat slip out of her lap. “I’m asking if I can move in?” A pleading smile was added for good measure.

Watching on fondly as the cat was coddled and cuddled, Johnny tried not to be too surprised by Andy's words. After all, he missed her, too, though she wasn't gone too long. Still... It took a moment still for her words to catch up to him and he frowned thoughtfully at her. "Of course. The second bedroom is yours - what happened to your father? He has not died, has he?"

Andy relaxed a little more in the seat, smiling at him and leaning on her knees. “Cool. Thanks. And no, he’s not dead. He looked at me like I was dead though,” she told him, followed by a hollow laugh. “Since I came home I thought I’d better just rip the band-aid off and tell him what I am. It was the only way we could move forward. At first he thought I needed psychological help by the look of his face, and then when I proved it to him, he…” She ran a hand through her hair and made eye-contact with Johnny, mustering a kind of pathetic smile. “He said I wasn’t Andy anymore. Asked me to leave.”

"Ah, păpuşă," he sighed, folding his hands together in his lap. She looked as young as she ever looked, as lost as she was ever lost and Johnny felt regret that he could offer her no more than his home and simple words. "This town... many are still in so much doubt about this town." He shook his head. Simple words. "But here, you are with me; we will fix things together. Now, tell me of your mother. What about her made you want to reveal so much to your father?"

Kicking her shoes off, she brought her legs up to cross them under her. “Yeah. He went from not believing me to knowing I wasn’t me anymore. Funny.” She shrugged, a smile creeping onto her face again at his words. “Okay. We’ll fix things together.” When he mentioned her mom, she huffed and let herself fall against the back of the couch, silent for a few moments while she figured out where to start. “I feel like there’s so much to say about her and yet not much at all. I don’t know. It took almost five years to find her and I don’t know what I was expecting but I wish I could take all that time back. She’s alive. Didn’t want to be found. She uh...kinda called me pathetic to my face. She called my dad boring and said she never wanted to have me.” Andrea felt her eyes welling and then a bit of anger at how the disappointment still affected her. “She’s a witch. She had enchanted windows and mirrors and the sun shone in this mansion and I could feel it on my skin. It was so magical to be such a symbol of her negligence. And she was so beautiful too. I could see myself in her features and I hated it.”

It made sense that her mother was a witch; if not dead, then yes, a witch sounds correct. His brethren were often flighty. He couldn't help but think of his own mother, but dashed the thought from his mind. He reached a hand out and twirled his fingers over and over, pulling neon strings of sugar from nothing until he could hand over a fluff of cotton candy to her, a reminder of a lighter time. "She sounds clever. And selfish. Did you talk long?"

“Yeah, she’s both those things I guess.” She fiddled with one of her bracelets and shook her head. “That night she went missing, she turned. She saw it as an out, so she let us believe she was dead. Those childhood memories I have of her that were so sweet...they’re just buried under the narrative that she was merely ‘trying out’ motherhood. When she got tired of it, she didn’t even hesitate because of me. With my dad I get it, romantic love can be fleeting I guess. But nothing kept her here. If anything I made her want to leave more.” She smirked at the cotton candy, bringing it to her lips and letting some of the sugar melt on her tongue. “We talked long enough. My questions were answered. It sucked but they were answered.”

Johnny furrowed his brow in confusion, stuck on one part of her statements. "Turned? One cannot be turned into a witch."

Andrea laughed, throwing her head back and turning to Johnny with a smile. “My bad, she is also a vampire. She’s both. Can you imagine?”

"Ah." He deliberately smoothed his features and leaned back. He tried to wrap his mind around it - he hadn't met many like Andy's mother, the first coming to mind was the owner of Tartarus, Helena... Old and frightening as she was, he still couldn't fully imagine. "I cannot speak on children nor will I give excuses for the way she has treated you, but none of this is surprising, given the nature of my kind. It pains me that it pains you." He held his hand out to her.

She finished off the cotton candy, pursing her lips as he spoke. “Yeah, I don’t know. I truly thought pushing a kid out of your vaginal opening would mean you have some love for them but people have killed their kids so I guess I should have known that doesn’t automatically come with it.” She gladly took his hand in both of hers, focusing on its skin while she gathered her thoughts again. “I know it’s my fault. I built her up. I thought she was a missing ingredient in my life for so long and I had no idea she was any kind other than human. It was blindsiding. But also I kind of think she was just rude. Maybe she couldn’t understand me, but she didn’t have to be a bitch about it,” she said, laughing a little. Her laughter about all this was so dry and a little sad. It was all funny to re-tell, but in a self-depreciating and ironic way. A waste of five years for a rude conversation.

"I do not understand how you're at fault for loving your mother, Andy. Everyone grows up with heroes, everyone idolizes their good memories. You did nothing but be her daughter and she was nothing but a failure," Johnny reasoned, stroking his thumb back and forth across her fingers. "But yes, I agree that the rudeness is a step too much."

Andrea simply looked at him, smile still in place. “You know, I think I really needed to hear that. I think I just really need to be here right now.” She finally let go of his hand, slapping her own on her thighs and looking around. “Your place looks gorgeous. Can you show me my room?”

He looked back at her, mirroring her smile with a slight curling of his lips. "Of course. I forget when I changed things around, but you'll like it." He stood and padded into the open space between the kitchen and the dining table. He didn't wait for her to follow, merely moved through a doorway that led to a small office space. "For what ever reason, the room decided to curve, so I let it. We'll need blackout curtains or..." He lifted a hand and the wide window over the desk thinned some. "And around this corner, the bed." He led her along the curving wall until they stood in the middle of the bedroom.

The luxurious floorplan was nothing like she was used to, her and her father’s cluttered Victorian flashing in her mind. It really felt different, in an exciting way. She was hurt, but as Johnny fussed about the room and updates he would make, this felt like a new chapter that she was curious about. “I like the curve. A lot,” she responded, taking in the bedroom once they were completely in it. “Your space is so beautiful. This is like the Ritz-Carlton to me right now. Should be interesting for it to become home.”

He glanced at her carefully, wanting her reaction to the space. She looked interested and said as much, but he couldn't help but want to give her - promise her more. "Do whatever you like with it, my Raggedy One. There's always a place for you here."

[hoodiehan]

Just Friends Pt.2 - Hwang Hyunjin Imagine

Synopsis: You have to read Part 1 in order to understand this lolol. Part 1 is here! (On Kris's blog aka @hey-hey-chan :D)

Genre: Fluff, angst

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: O o o o o I collaborated with @hey-hey-chan on this project for @straycuties' birthday!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASTRELLA I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY TODAY. GO GET DRUNK AND GO TO A STRIP CLUB YEET YEET YEET

Slamming the door shut behind me, I threw myself onto the bed and let out a scream of frustration into my pillows and bed sheets.

The nerve of that boy, Hwang Hyunjin. The only person who I thought that I could count on in this world had left me dry and hanging on a day that he knew was important for me. He left me for what? Some girl? Mind him, a girl who already has a boyfriend and clearly has no intention of dating him. Hyunjin can go find someone else to comfort him when he's in tears when he finally comes to his senses that she won’t date him. I'm obviously not important to him compared to other things; or should I say other girls.

It was a restless night as I kept tossing and turning in my bed. I was happy that I could finally feel myself being free of Hyunjin and all his dramatics, but at the same time, I had also cried so many times during the night. I didn't want to be done with Hyunjin, but at the same time, it's obvious where his priorities lay. And I was most definitely not one of them.

Waking up the next morning, I took one look in the mirror and let out a dejected sigh. The eye bags under my eyes had gotten darker and bigger because I had stayed up all night, my hair was a mess, and my face was puffy due to my multiple crying sessions.

Scratching the back of my neck, I walked towards the bathroom and attempted to make myself look presentable for the day. Now that I declared Hyunjin to be out of my life, I wouldn't need to get all dressed up for someone. As I got ready, I checked my phone for any notifications.

"Hey, what was that??" A text from Hyunjin from last night.

"Are you okay?" Another text from him.

"It's 1 AM and I know that you're awake because you never sleep. Why aren't you responding?"

"Are you ignoring me?"

"Alright it's now 2 AM and I can see your bedroom light is on. What's up?"

"I just got a notification. Are you rabbitting without me?"

The rest of my notifications consisted of updates from Instagram or Snapchat, or they were full of Hyunjin spamming my phone. It's not like I meant to ignore him last night, but that's exactly what I had intended to do. In the midst of one of my many crying sessions, I got fed up with his spamming and turned off my phone so that I could cry in peace.

I hated feeling like this. Sad, then mad, then relieved, then sad all over again. It was a never ending cycle of emotions, and I just wanted it all to go away. I just wanted Hyunjin to go away and to leave my thoughts forever. Unfortunately, I couldn't even do that, though when the boy who I wanted to never remember again lived right next door to me, and the fact that I had to see him every day.

"Y/N!" Hyunjin called from his house the second that I had stepped foot onto my front porch. Groaning, I turned around and slowly faced him.

"What?" I snapped unhappily.

"Whoa," Hyunjin said holding up two hands to put a distance between us. "What's with the tone?"

"There's no tone," I said coldly. The irony to the sentence, though. "Do you need something?"

Hyunjin tilted his head, confused and looked at me. "Did I do something wrong?"

I almost snorted at the way that he seemed so confused. It was ironic how he didn't know, when everything he had done was wrong in all ways possible. "I don't know, Hyunjin. I'm just not feeling it today. Maybe I'll just talk to you later, yeah?" I said letting out a long sigh. I was in no mood to fight, but I wasn’t in the mood to play nice either. It was better if I just walked away now.

"Um, yeah, okay. That's fine. I'll text you later then?" Hyunjin asked, but I had already turned around and walked in the other direction.

"Yeah sure," I mumbled, but he was already too far away to hear.

----

I was sitting in a booth of a cafe sipping on a strawberry smoothie. Every few seconds, I let out a small sigh as I stared out the window of the little shop. I would always come here with Hyunjin and it felt wrong to be here by myself.

I was nearing the end of my milkshake, when I heard someone come up to the table. Thinking that it was Hyunjin, I quickly looked over only to see that it was the waiter.

"Hey, can I get you a refill or something?" The boy asked shyly, wringing his hands in front of his body. He had a bashful smile on his face; one that made his dimples show, and one that would surely melt any girl's heart.

"Oh, uh, no that's alright," I peered down at his name tag. "Chan," I said finishing my sentence. "I'm almost done anyways.”

Chan nodded in response before looking back up at me and smiling once more. "You're usually here with that boy. What happened today? Decided to take a break from one another?" Chan joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes, we actually did decide to give each other some air," I shrugged my shoulders, looking at my drink and swirling the straw around my cup.

"I'm so sorry, do you want to talk about it?" Chan asked sliding into the booth seat across from mine. Narrowing my eyes at his boldness, I quirked my head at him.

"Don't you have tables to wait or plates to clean?"

"Look around," Chan held a hand out to the cafe to prove his point. "There's no one else here. Just you and I. Now, tell me what happened."

The rest of the afternoon was spent with me rambling on and on about my problem regarding Hyunjin (although I left out the part about how I felt about him) and Chan listening intently. He never once interrupted me, or said anything. He simply listened, nodded, and added in his own opinions and advice in between pauses. It was nice to finally let out all that I had been holding in.

By the time that I was done talking with Chan, the sun was beginning to set, and closing time for the cafe was fast approaching.

"Hey, you want to get out of here?" Chan asked.

"Yeah, that would actually be really nice," I nodded. One of the sides of Chan's mouth quirked upwards in a lopsided smile that almost made me want to melt again.

"Where do you want to go?" Chan asked once he had finished up locking the cafe. Pondering for a bit, I stood still before turning back to face him.

"Have you ever gotten a tattoo before?" When the words left my lips, I almost felt too stunned to even comprehend it. A tattoo? Why would I say that?

Chan furrowed his eyebrows, surprised at my question. "No... But I guess that I've always wanted to get one."

I smiled cheekily at the boy and shrugged. “So, like, how would you feel about getting one?”

The boy raised a brow and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, feeling the adrenaline rush get to me. I had never spent this much time away from Hyunjin and I was feeling the independence surge to me, making me bolder than I was before.

“Positive.”

---

The next few days consisted of minimal conversations and texts between Hyunjin and I. We didn't talk much anymore, which I suppose was fine for the most part. It felt alright to distance myself away from Hyunjin a little bit. But word got around that I had gone out with Chan to get a tattoo, and it was clear in Hyunjin's texts that he wasn't happy with any of it.

I guess it wasn’t a good move to ask Hyunjin’s cousin to do my tattoo.

"You got a tattoo?! Without me?!?!?" Was the first text that I had gotten from Hyunjin in the morning.

"Who is this Chan guy??? Why am I hearing that you went out with him??" The second text that I received from him.

"Why aren't you replying? Why are you just reading my texts?" One of the texts that I skimmed over in his spamming.

"That's it, I'm coming over."

That text was not one that I had seen, as I had been too busy ignoring Hyunjin.

"Can you please stop seeing him?" Were the first words that came out of Hyunjin's mouth when I opened my front door only to see him standing in place of it.

"Seeing who?" I asked innocently, pretending not to know what Hyunjin was going on about.

"You know who! Chan! Stop seeing him!" Hyunjin said raising his voice to be near a shout.

"What's so bad about Chan?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips in a defensive position. I was deeply confused as to why he was so mad at me all of a sudden, it’s not like he liked me.

"Everything is bad about Chan! He's not right for you."

"Oh, that's rich coming from you," I snapped back at Hyunjin. I felt my heart drop at his rude comments about Chan. Even though I wasn’t romantically involved with Chan, he was the only one there for me to spill my feelings to. He had been the one who picked me up from a hard time and I wished Hyunjin would respect that.

"You know I'm right. Chan isn't good for you. He goes around playing with girls, and you're just one of them too!"

I glared at Hyunjin, and began to fume. "How dare you say such a thing to me? You don't even know, Chan! And do you not hear the words that are coming from your mouth? Do you not understand that, that is the same thing that I told you not too long ago about her?"

"Hey, she's a great girl!" Hyunjin exclaimed narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah, I beg to differ."

"What's so bad about her?"

"Everything. Everything about her is wrong. She plays with your heart even though she has a boyfriend!"

"But why are you so mad about me liking-"

"Ah," I said holding a finger up. "Do not speak that devil's name. You'll only worsen the situation."

"Okay, so then why are you so mad about me liking her?"

"Because I like you, you idiot!" The words bursted out of my mouth before I could process them. But by the time I had realized what I had said, the damage was already done.

"You...you what?" Hyunjin quietly asked, his mouth gaping.

Sighing, I looked past Hyunjin, not daring to look him in the eyes as I began to let out the confession that I had been holding in for such a long time. “All these years, I've comforted you when you were hurt. I stood back and watched you chase after someone, and I supported you in doing so. I did everything to help you because I am your best friend. But do you know how much that hurts? To watch someone you love, fall in love with someone else? Someone who doesn't even deserve your love? It freaking sucks, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin stood back in silence. All this time, he had been moping around and pining for someone else, when in reality, here you were pining for him.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I just-"

"Don't," I said cutting him off. "Just leave me alone." Slamming the door in Hyunjin's face, I turned around and leaned my back against the door. Pressing a hand against my face, I finally let out all of the sobs and emotions that I had been holding in.

----

It had been almost two weeks since I had last spoken to Hyunjin. Ever since our fight, it was if the both of us went out of our ways to avoid each other in any way possible. I would make sure that Hyunjin wasn't leaving his house the same time that I was. But it sometimes occurred that we would run into each other without thinking. When that happened, then Hyunjin would rush away in the opposite direction. It hurt to see him avoiding me like that, but it was better than seeing him and having to speak with him about whatever happened. Yet, every time I clicked on my phone, I expected to find a text or some sort of notification from Hyunjin. But as always, there was nothing. Just my lock screen that displayed the date and time.

Sighing, I turned off my phone and entered the record store shop that I usually went to when I was feeling down. And in the past few days, I had especially been feeling sad and heartbroken.

I was browsing through the newest selection of records that the store had just received, when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Or should I say someone.

Pretending not to have seen them, I continued to look flick through the record albums when I felt his presence come up from behind me.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin said coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Are you now?”

“Yes, yes I am so very sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have been so blind. I just like, she-who shall-not-be-named, a lot, and I was hoping that she would give me a chance, somehow.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little when he said “she-who-shall-not-be-named.” After all this time, Hyunjin wouldn’t say her name around me.

“Yes, well, I am always right,” I said letting out a puff of air as I continued to look through the stacks of record labels. Hyunjin rested his head on top of my shoulder and it took everything in me not to freeze up.

I didn’t like skin ship that much, but something about the way that Hyunjin was just holding onto me felt right. I hated it, but at the same time, I just wanted to hold onto him and never let go. I was supposed to be mad at Hyunjin, but talking with him again just felt...right. The longest that we had ever gone without speaking with one another was just a day, and that was because Hyunjin had gone overnight camping. Maybe it was time to reconcile with him. No, I can’t be that weak.

“Yes, you are most definitely always right,” Hyunjin mumbled nodding his head against my shoulder. “What can I do to make you forgive me? Take you out for some ice cream? Pay for your shopping spree? Make you a lavish meal?” He gave me a sheepish smile, but I wasn’t up for it at the moment.

“Well, first of all, you’re too broke to take me shopping. Second of all, I don’t want you anywhere near a kitchen because you’ll most likely burn it down.” I spat.

I could feel Hyunjin’s laughter vibrate throughout my body, and when he stepped away to look at me with the biggest eye smile ever, I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“I really am sorry, though, Y/N. I know that I keep saying this, but you’re right. I shouldn’t keep chasing after someone who already has a boyfriend, and already said that they have no interest in me.”

I nodded slowly as I listened Hyunjin’s apology.

“And I am most definitely sorry,” Hyunjin looked down and took my hand in his and holding onto it. “For not realizing that there was a beautiful girl right in front of me who was chasing after me all this time. I should have opened my eyes and seen that it was you all this time. There’s no one else in the world except for you.”

My mouth fell open a little bit as I took in Hyunjin’s confession. I didn’t want to assume anything and get my hopes up, but his next words confirmed all of my thoughts, hopes and dreams.

“I love you, Y/N,” Hyunjin said looking right at me.

At that moment, I felt my whole world stop. I could barely understand what was happening as the words were so foreign to me. All these years, I had pined over him restlessly and watched him get with other girls; I had never imagined the same situation for me. “And before you get angry or upset or in denial, let me explain. I know that I’ve been going out with girls and pining over this girl for a year now, yet I can spend weeks without hanging out with her in person. But that one night that you stopped texting me, I felt my whole world collapsing. And when we were not talking to each other, I felt so alone like I had no one.” I saw a tear drop fall to his cheek and I resisted the urge to wipe it.

“You’re just saying that because you’ve never been without me-”

“Hah, I knew you were going to say that. But it’s true, I’d never spent so much time without you and I realized that I can’t. Whenever I see something funny, I immediately want to send it to you, but I couldn’t. When I felt antsy in my house or saw a cool event online, I couldn’t hang out with you. I know this is going to sound cheesy, but it felt like a part of me was missing and I couldn’t function without you. And trust me y/n, no one has ever made me feel this way. I’ve never fallen apart so badly.”

Suddenly, he grabbed my hands and pulled them tightly to his chest. “This heart it only beats for you now, I promise. It’s yours to break or to use or to trash, I don’t care, but it’s yours and it’s always been yours.” I felt tears rush down my cheeks as his voice cracked on the last words.

I know that I said that I was done with Hyunjin, but in that moment, I didn’t care about anything else. I had spent too many years with this boy to just drop him all of a sudden, and no matter what, I would always love him; he is, and will forever be, my best friend.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I dropped Hyunjin’s hands, stood up on my tippy toes, and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Dammit, Hyunjin, I love you too,” I breathed in his ear, smiling as I felt him wrap his arms around my waist to lift me off the ground and spin me around. Hyunjin’s own happy giggle was the only thing I heard in my ear as we rejoiced in the aisle of the record shop.

“How did you know that I would be here?” I asked Hyunjin once he had set me down on the floor again.

“This is the record shop. You always come here when you’re angry and need to look for some sad song to listen to,” Hyunjin shrugged scratching the back of his neck.

“I never told you that I come here every time I’m mad though,” I said raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, well, every time you’re angry or mad, you always ask me to take you here,” Hyunjin smiled and rubbed his nose. “But I don’t think that you’re angry or mad anymore, so let’s go!” Hyunjin grabbed my hand and led us out of the store and onto the street. I rubbed my face to hide the tears and snot from other people. It would look terrible if I walked around looking like a snot-filled mess with a boy.

“Where are we going?” I asked rushing to keep up with his pace. The boy had long legs and I could only do so much to keep up.

“Hmm, let’s go get some ice cream.”

“Ice cream? I’m lactose intolerant though,” I stated frowning a little bit at the suggestion.

“Yeah, I know you are. But half of the world is lactose intolerant too, though. That won’t stop them from indulging in a banana split every once in a while.”

“You’re an idiot.” I rolled my eyes and shoved him slightly, my strength toppling him over.

“Hey, but I’m an idiot you love.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Ok.”

[peculiar-bonds]

Out of Sight, Not Out of Mind - Chapter 1: Accomodation

Synopsis: While Mane 6 are on a research mission in a small town from another world called 'Earth', they learn about an old myth among the inhabitants: the Slender Man. What is the ugly truth of this haunted town? Will they survive the monster's deadly grasps?

A loud thud was heard. Mane six found themselves in what seemed like a small, dark room. The space felt tight between them.

“Wh…Where are we?” Twilight asked, blindly struggling to make her way through her friends’ limbs. “Girls, are you here?”

“Yeah, Twilight. Kinda crushed, but fine” Rainbow Dash confirmed. “Better ask, what are we? Because I don’t feel myself at this moment…”

“Let me see if there’s a way out…” Twilight’s limbs felt weird when she moved, like she was on sticks; with all her efforts, she touched something that seemed like a door knob. Her new members made it difficult to open the door and get out, but she finally managed. The unicorn tripped and fell on the floor; it felt rough.

“This is strange…” she muttered.

Meanwhile, Rarity rose to stand on her feet and turned around to look in the mirror. When she saw her reflection, she gasped in awe. She wasn’t a pony anymore, but a being with two long legs and other two members with…claws? Her skin was a light shade of peach instead of white and her face was totally different, she noted as she patted it; it lacked the nuzzle, but there were other new features instead. Rarity descended her upper extremities to the chest and squeezed the two mounds of flesh on it. This felt even weirder to her.

“What are those?” she asked, completely puzzled by the sight of her new body parts.

“I don’t know, let me see if there’s a library…Ah, here we go…” Twilight replied. She struggled to rise from the floor and stand up while approaching the small bookshelves in the wall near her; squinting her now small eyes at the titles, she noticed a book titled: “Imaging Atlas of Human Anatomy by Jonathan D. Spratt & Co.”. Twilight stared at the book for a second, then tried to pick it up with her little long ‘branches’.

“Sweet Celestia, how can I even open it without magic? Or at least a nuzzle…”

After a while, she finally figured it out; she had to pick two of her bony extremities in order to turn the pages of the book. Twilight took a look on each of the pages with beautifully-colored illustrations and essential information about this weird species called ‘human’…species to which she and her friends belonged at this moment, it seemed.

“Girls, I found something! We are some beings called…humans. Seems like they’re the inhabitants of Earth. And that’s what the princess meant when she said that ‘we’ll blend in’ “

“Humans? What kind of sorcery is this?” Rainbow Dash pointed out.

“Well, get over here if you wanna know more! Here, let me show you how humans walk…”

Twilight applied the new theories on her friends, and taught them how to walk and keep their balance while standing up. The six girls spent the entire night doing research on the humans’ complicated anatomy, structure and customs.They learnt that the long extremities that grew out of their ‘hooves’ are called ‘fingers’, and that they have many uses, like picking up objects and writing. They also learnt about the physiology of the human body, like its stages of development: baby, child, teenager, adult and elder. From what Twilight read, she placed herself and the others in the ‘teenager’ category, considering that wrinkles weren’t present on their faces, and they looked too mature to be children.

“How old are we, I wonder?” she asked. “If we are teenagers, it seems that we also study in a school or something. Right?”

“I suppose, darling” Rarity shrugged. “Why not ask the locals about it?”

“Not yet…” Twilight murmured. “I don’t think it’s safe for us to go out for now. There has to be brochure or something with information about this town.” She spoke while searching through the shelves. “I don’t even know where we live, to be honest!”

Meanwhile, someone was knocking at the door. The girls panicked and and started hiding around the apartment. Only Twilight approached the entrance door and looked through the peephole; she saw an old female human that seemed quite harmless, even well-intentioned.

“Hello? Is anybody there?” the woman asked with a soft voice.

“Um, yes?” Twilight replied.

“I heard a young girl moved in our complex and I wanted to give her a warm welcome…I even brought something sweet for her; I hoped she would be home”

Twilight quickly opened the door and stood in front of the old lady. She had greyish white hair tied in a bun; this hairstyle pinpointed her glimmering brown eyes that were surrounded by deep wrinkles and eyebags. Still, her expression gave a hint of kindness in her heart. The woman wore a perriwinkle angle-length dress with a white ruffled apron over it. She held a tray with a big pie in her small and wrinkled hands.

“Oh, you must be miss Tara Sparkle, right?” she asked while pinching one of Twilight’s cheeks.

“Uh, yes, I guess…” the young girl answered, puzzled that the human had addressed her with another name.

“You guess? Ahahaha! Youngsters nowadays and their odd sense of humor!” the old lady chuckled.

“Um, excuse me, ma’am, but what school for teenagers is in this area?” Twilight interrupted.

“Oh, you mean highschool, sweetheart? You must be new here…Welcome to Waukesha, by the way! The nearby highschool that you’re asking about is Waukesha South High School, dear! It’s a few meters from here. I’m sure you’ll find it easily, you’re a smart girl, from what I see…”

Twilight noticed a hint of irony in the old woman’s sayings, but she decided to ignore it.

“Well, thank you for the information, miss…” “…Abigail. Abigail Wilson. But you can call me miss Abby, my dear!” the woman added with a smile on her face. “Oh, almost forgot! Here is your pie! Hope you like it, and have a great time, sweetie! Good night!”

“Um, thank you…You as well!” the teenager replied while taking the tray. She smiled at miss Abby, then closed the door slowly.

“So, who was at the door?” Rainbow Dash asked, dumbfounded by their conversation at the doorstep.

“One of my neighbours. Yeah…” Twilight sighed, while putting the pie on the kitchen table. “Seems like we’re students at Waukesha South High School or something”

“Wau-what? Woah, this must be a secluded place in this world…”

“It might be, who knows? What time is it, by the way?”

Pinkie Pie looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s eight o’clock…”

“…In the evening.” Fluttershy pointed out while looking through the window. “What’s the date though?”

“Is there a calendar? Oh, right; it’s Sunday, 21st May…We can go tomorrow then” Twilight replied.

“Where are we gonna stay, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

“Here, I suppose…” Twilight said with uncertainty. “Please, make yourselves at home!”

Say no more; Rainbow Dash already started looking for food, and found nothing more than a few tomatoes in the fridge and five bread slices in the cupboard.

“Aww, that’s all we’ve got to eat? Bummer!”

“I’ll buy more tomorrow, after I finally figure out how humans’ system works.” Twilight explained while rifling through another book that she just found in the bookshelves: ‘Life in the USA, by Planaria J. Price and Euphronia Awakuni’

Two hours passed and the girls already fell asleep one by one, except Twilight, who was still reading information about the human society. She was eager to find out more about this entirely new species, and she couldn’t stop just now.

“A little less sleep won’t kill anyone, so let’s dig deeper into all of this…” she said to herself while continuing her studies.

*Next day*

A rooster’s cry sounded in the distance, which woke up Twilight despite her tireness, and she startled, suddenly realising that it was morning and she had to go to school. She watched the clock in deep shock.

“Girls, wake up, it’s half past seven!”

“Mph, what the heck is so important today, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash muttered, visibly annoyed by her friend’s call.

“It’s a school day. Good morning sunshine!” Twilight ironically whispered in her ear. She furiously draped the curtains.

“Ugh, sweet Celestia!” RD screamed in ‘agony’, blinded by the light outside.

The others woke up slowly to the noise, completely confused. It took a while for everyone to get ready and Twilight grew impatient with each minute.

“Come on, we’re going to be late!”

“Be patient, darling! Nobody will kill you if you’re five minutes late…” Rarity said, trying to comfort her.

“Unless it’s the very first class…and it’s been more than five minutes!”

“Calm down, egghead. We’re ready to go now!” Rainbow Dash pointed out. “Though, I don’t have any books with me…”

“I’ll just take three books and these papers over here for now” Twilight replied while grabbing said pieces of paper.“Took the key, let’s go!”

Almost everyone got outside, except Twilight, who struggled to lock the door with her new assets called ‘hands’.

“What is it now, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash yelled from downstairs.

“I don’t know how to lock this thing…Just a second”

“Let me show you, sweetheart” a voice offered from behind. It was her neighbour, miss Abby.

“Goodness, it was you, ma’am!” Twilight startled. “Please do…”

“Alright, so you use your fingers like this and then you rotate like this…” miss Abby explained patiently. “Are your locks different than ours?”

“Not really. Only the way of locking doors is…quite different.”

“Ah, I see. Here you go” the old lady nodded, then gave her the key. “Have a nice day at school, dear!”

“Thank you!” the youngster replied while heading downstairs.

*at the school courtyard*

“Here we are! Wow, this is nothing like what is in Equestria…it’s more grey in the surroundings” Twilight pointed out.

“So, which one is our class, Twilight?” Pinkie asked in excitement. “I can’t wait to meet my new classmates and make new friends!”

“Be patient, we have to ask the principal first. They must have one, right?”

“There’s only one way to find out. Come on!” Rainbow Dash called out to her friends.

The school hallways were definitely duller and less colourful than the equestrian schools, but at least there were a few strange ‘colour patches’ that lightened the halls, and way larger than any other school they had ever seen before. Twilight was astonished by the organised atmosphere of the high school, and she was eager to discover more.

“So, does anybody know where’s the principal’s office or something?” Rainbow Dash asked, interrupting Twilight’s current state of trance. “Or lemme see if one of these people do” she continued while going to a group of students.

“Um, hey, we’re new here, and we need to see the principal. Can you give me and my friends some directions please?”she asked to a long-haired brunette dressed casually, who seemed pretty nice.

“Welcome!” the girl greeted with a broad smile. “Well, the principal’s office is not too far, just turn to the left and you’ll find it in no time; the door actually has a sign on it, and it can be easier to find. Good luck!”

“Thank you lots! See you later” Rainbow Dash replied, completely satisified on the inside. “Yes, it was too easy! Come on girls, to the left!”

[queen-scribbles]

Hidden Talents

For @pillarspromptsweekly #7, finally get to do something with Tavi and Edér’s friendship. :3

She really should have seen it coming.

Months of fighting alongside someone, she really should’ve been more familiar with his fighting style. But whether due to the pounding adrenaline or simply being out of practice, Tavi missed the body language cues. And the wooden shield made hard enough contact to land her on her ass, then flat on her back, looking up at a sunny blue sky and the beard-framed grin of one of her best friends.

“Sorry,”  Edér chuckled as he offered her a hand up. “Thought you were gonna block that.”

“I should’ve,” Tavi groused, taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet. “I fuckin’ missed somethin’. Must be out of practice.”

He clapped her on the back, grin widening at the puff of dust that rose from her shirt. “You’ve been busy runnin’ Caed Nua and chasin’ off suitors. Guess there ain’t much time in there for fightin’, even to practice.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Hasn’t stopped you, Mayor Teylecg.”

Edér snorted. “I ain’t chasin’ off suitors who wanna marry me for my title. An’ one village is a sight more manageable than everywhere you’re in charge of.”

Tavi grinned. “You mean the ladies of Dyrford aren’t after you like fampyrs after fresh blood? I think I might be offended on your behalf.”

“Don’t be,” he said wryly. “‘Specially not with that analogy.”

“Oh, come on, Teylecg,” she needled as she bent down to retrieve her swords. “I know you’re jealous of my good looks.”

“An’ I know you’re only visitin’ Dyrford to distract yourself from the fact Aloth’s been gone a month,”  Edér shot back as they stowed the practice weapons in the small shed by the training ground.

“No!” Tavi protested, pretending wounded outrage. She rocked up on the balls of her feet and bit her lip. “‘M also hidin’ from a-fuckin’-nother wave of gods-damned suitors.”

Edér chuckled. “Gotta hand it to Dyrwoodans, we’re a stubborn lot. You’re gonna have to do somethin’ big if you wanna scare ‘em off for good.”

“How big’re we talkin’?” Tavi pushed the door of the shed closed. “‘Cause I already tried claimin’ Aloth was my consort. He didn’t like that much, and it didn’t discourage Thayn Whatsisname in the slightest.”

“I dunno,”  Edér shrugged as they started walking back to his house. “I’ve only been mayor a couple months, Tav. Haven’t had time t’ brush up on all the nobility’s tricks yet.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re no help.”

He grinned. “I have a private stash of really good ale an’ I’ll listen to ya vent.”

“I take it back, you’re a huge help.”

>|<

Edér’s house looked exactly as you’d expect if you knew the man--simple and cozy--and much the same as it had on Tavi’s last visit. With one exception.

“Didn’t have you figured for a flowers guy,  Edér,” Tavi needled, brushing her fingers against the fringes of the arrangement that sat in the middle of the table.

He shrugged. “’M not. Those were a gift. Woulda been rude to just pitch ‘em.”

“From who? An’ for what?” Tavi asked, grinning as she slouched in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace. The fact she was having to probe for more details instead of the usually-chatty blond just offering them made her think there was a story there.

“One of the new settlers we got thanks t’ the offer of free land. We got to talkin’ and it came out she’s also Eothasian. Priest, even. Seein’ as we’re just about the only two for a day’s walk any direction, I helped her set up a spot on her land, just a little place for us to pray away from pryin’ eyes.” He shrugged again and lit his pipe as he dropped into the chair across from Tavi. “I don’t much care who knows what god I follow, and they’re welcome to keep movin’ if they don’t like it, but it’s nice to have someone who believes the same.”

“I’ll bet,” Tavi said, picking dirt from under her nails and fighting a smile as she studied the flowers. “Does this Eothasian priest who gives flowers as a thank you have a name?”

“Charity,”  Edér replied around a puff of smoke. “And I gotta ask; what’s so funny?”

“Just wonderin’ how much Charity knows about flower language,” Tavi replied innocently. She wasn’t hiding the smile anymore. “Or if she just picked things that look pretty and got really lucky.”

“Flower what?”  Edér shot her a skeptical look.

“Flowers have meanings,” Tavi explained. “Like a language. You can use ‘em to send messages an’ stand for shit an- what?”

Edér grinned and blew out more smoke. “That just seems like a very not-you thing for you to know,” he laughed.

She rolled her eyes. “It is probably the most cultured and least fuckin’ useful thing I know. Blame my mother. She was a florist. Livin’ with that for almost thirty fuckin’ years... I couldn’t avoid learnin’ it. The only plant knowledge that’s useful is what’ll kill ya versus cure ya. A lot of the plants in the Dyrwood are different from Old Vailia, but some things are hardy enough to be universal.”

Edér  was still grinning. “All that time travelin’ together and we never knew. Got any more hidden talents?”

“Does singin’ like a fuckin’ rusty hinge count?” Tavi asked snarkily, deliberately steering away from the rest of the list.

“Depends on how drunk your audience is,” he returned.

“Touche,” she laughed, then nodded toward the flowers. “You wanna know what they mean? If she wasn’t just going for pretty?”

Edér slouched further into his seat. “Sure. You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

Tavi pushed out of her chair and walked back over to the flowers rubbing petals gently between her fingers. “Well, first of all, the part that made me laugh is the moss. You don’t need moss on somethin’ that’s gonna be fuckin’ indoors. But moss signifies charity, so that’s her havin’ a damn good sense of humor an’ essentially signin’ her name. You better stay friends with her.”

“Aye, aye,”  Edér laughed, running a hand through his hair, eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched her.

“The cattails are what tipped me off,” she explained, tracing along one with her index finger. “You don’t often use them you’re aimin’ for pretty, but they symbolize prosperity, so they’re perfect for an arrangement put together for, say, the mayor of your new hometown. Same with the white heather; that’s for... protection, I’m pretty sure.” She shot him a playful smile as she stroked deep blue-ish purple petals. “Iris stands for friendship. So you haven’t scared her off.”

Edér made a face at her. “Hey, I was a perfect gentleman. Y’know, as suits a mayor.”

“Good for you,” Tavi said teasingly, even as she frowned at the last of the flowers; a round white bloom, with overlapping layers of petals circling a cheery yellow center. “I... don’t know this one...” she finally admitted.

“Well, you’re no help,”  Edér teased, mirroring her ribbing.

“Fuck you,” Tavi retorted, but the smile she couldn’t hide took all the venom from the words. “So I’m out of practice, or this is one of your stupid Dyrwoodan flowers I don’t know. You get the fuckin’ point; she appreciates your friendship and wishes for protection and prosperity for you and presumably the village. So there.”

“I take it back, you’re a huge help.”

She rolled her eyes. “You-”

Someone knocked on the door.

Tavi let her burgeoning exasperation out in a huff. “I’ll get it. I’m closer.”

Edér just grinned and didn’t argue. Tavi opened the door to reveal an athletically built woman with dark red hair tied back in a ponytail, her hands curled under a small black pot.

She blinked at the sight of Tavi. “Oh, hello.”

Tavi grinned. “Hello yourself. I’m-”

“Tavi,” the redhead finished for her. “Edér’s talked about you.” She shifted her grip on the cast iron pot so she could shake hands. “I’m Charity.”

“Ah, you’re the priest.” Tavi’s grin widened. “Here, that looks heavy, come on in.”

“Thanks.” Charity stepped past her and set the pot on the table. “Hey, Edér. Just wanted to bring this back. Wasn’t sure when you’d need it again.”

Edér chuckled as he pushed to his feet. “That didn’t last long.”

Charity shrugged. “What can I say; workin’ hard builds a good appetite, and you’re a much better cook than me.” She gave a self-deprecating snort. “Which isn’t saying much.”

“Well, if you liked it that much, I’ll hafta make ya some more,” Edér said, setting down his pipe and reaching for the pot. “Maybe teach ya the recipe. It ain’t that hard.”

Charity laughed. “ Edér, I can and have burned water. But if you think I ave a chance...”

“’Course. No one’s a completely lost cause,” he smiled. “Might take a little work, but I’m sure you could learn. If you wanna.” 

“Why not?” She returned his smile. “I’ll stop by later so we can work out a time. Right now I need to get to Hendyna’s. She got a really big potion order and I told her I’d help whip ‘em up.”

“Oh, are you good with plants?” Tavi interject, barely holding back a laugh when  Edér and Charity started as if they’d forgotten she was there.

“Um, yeah, I am,” Chairty said, playing with the end of her ponytail.

“Can you tell me what this flower is?” Tavi pointed to the white blossom she’d been unable to identify. “It’s the only one in here I don’t know, and it’s drivin’ me crazy.”

“That’s a camellia,” Charity enlightened her. “They’re not very common in the Dyrwood, but I’m determined to keep the ones in my garden alive.”

“Thanks, that would’ve bugged me forever,” Tavi said, raking her fingers through her hair. “We’ll let you go now.”

“Oh, thank you.” Charity started toward the door. “It was nice to meet you, Tavi. And, Edér, I’ll stop by later to chat?”

“Sure thing,” he drawled. “See ya then.”

Tavi barely waited for the door to close behind Charity before breaking out in an ear to ear grin. “Wow.”

“Wow, what?”  Edér asked as he picked up the pot. 

“You an’ Charity. Hylea’s motherfuckin’ tits,  Edér. Were me an’ Aloth that bad before we, y’know, caved?”

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about.” From his grin, he was either dead serious or fucking with her.

Either way, Tavi growled in frustration and decided to drop it. “Never mind. What’s this about you bein’ a good cook? I didn’t know you could fuckin’ cook.”

Edér shrugged. “‘S ‘cause I didn’t tell ya. You ain’t the only one with hidden talents.”

She whacked his arm. “No shit, bazzo. Why?”

“Was afraid you’d make me share cookin’ duties,” he needled. The grin was back, and Tavi smacked him again. “Hey, now. You’re a good cook, too, Tavi. Why would I deprive everyone of that?”

She wrinkled her nose. “You’re still an asshole.”

“Guilty.”

“I think you owe me dinner for that,” she groused, fighting a smile.

“Sure,”  Edér nodded. “Sounds fair.”

“An’ if you ever want help puttin’ together flowers for Charity, just say the word,” Tavi hinted.

“Dunno when I’d need that, but good to know. Y’wanna help cut up vegetables?” He turned to head for the kitchen, taking the pot with him.

Tavi huffed an exasperated breath through her nose, hands curling in a strangling motion behind his back. “Sure, why not?” She pitched her voice lower as she followed. ”Swear to Hylea, if we were half that blind...”

“You were worse,”  Edér called over his shoulder.

Tavi skidded to a halt, knees briefly locking. “What?”

“Much worse,” he elaborated cheerfully, before resuming course.

She was left staring at his back, eyes narrowing as she conceded, Okay, I should have seen that coming.

Now if she could just get him to be honest about Charity... Tavi grinned as she glanced at the flowers. She was fairly confident she could make it happen. Despite her earlier deflection, she was a woman of many hidden talents. 

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

(white camellia is for affection, btw, so Charity’s not being subtle at all--if you know what she’s ‘saying’)

[cyberphuck]

"You are not going," Mika growled, "looking like that."

I resisted the urge to look down at myself; I wasn't going to give Mika the satisfaction. "There's nothing wrong with the way I look."

"There's a hundred things wrong with it, but I only have time to do damage control." Mika waved an impatient hand at me. "Go wash your face while I look through this pathetic mound of last year's rags you call a wardrobe."

Perched on the edge of my bed, Adrian said, "I think she looks okay."

"I did not ask your opinion, and please never make any sort of noise in my earshot ever again," Mika said, digging in my closet and throwing clothes over his shoulder. "What is he doing here, anyway?"

"Dropping off your TV dinners." I was standing in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror over the sink. Maybe my eyeliner was a little smudged, but who does perfect wings every time?

"I hope they're better than last time, I could hardly gag them down. Day old pig's blood and salt, eugh. Oh, Ash, tell me these aren't all the shoes you have."

"It's a lamb's blood base," Adrian offered. "I'd heard that's what they're drinking at bars these days, and we had some laying around. I filled it out with a couple of vitamin supplements, I didn't think it would affect the taste too much."

"Oh, aren't you a love," Mika cooed, then, "I did tell you to shut up, didn't I?" He glanced over toward me, then did a double-take. "Ash, Ashley, for god's sake I told you to wash your face, not sand it off!" He stomped over to me and snatched the damp washcloth out of my hand. "What are you using? No, this's got alcohol in it, no wonder your skin always looks like shit. I told you to get micellar water, why didn't you listen?"

"Because I don't know what micellar water is, and this stuff has always worked fine," I shrugged.

"You are going," Mika said, "to a vamp nursery. This isn't some half-and-half bar, it's one of those vampires-only places where you won't be welcome unless you've got fangs, or are looking to try some on. And no one is going to want to come near you if you look like a four-dollar whore."

"Yesterday it was two dollars," I said, drying my face on a hand towel.

"Inflation," Mika snapped. "Go and sit down. I'm going to have to do this all myself and hope I can get you good enough to pass."

"This is for a work thing, then," Adrian said, watching us. "What's a vamp nursery?"

I sat down at my dressing table. "It's where you go if you want someone to Turn you and mentor you for a year or two so you can be the best little fanglet you can be. Most of them are monitored by the Order, they have to provide all kinds of paperwork to show that people are going in there of their own free will and not because they've been coerced or something."

"Or Glamoured, right?" Adrian asked.

"Turns out vampires can't actually do that," I said, smiling.

"No, we can't." Mika emerged from the bathroom, armed with moisturizer, a curling iron, and three different bottles of hair product, one of which I couldn't remember actually buying. "We just have a lot of practice in getting what we want."

"Anyway, most nurseries are hard to get into. Vampires are pretty choosy about who they wanna recruit to their army of the undead, and on top of that you have to do things like pass a credit check and have references from other vamps. The process takes ages, and sometimes you'll eventually get rejected for getting too old."

Adrian arched an eyebrow at Mika. "What's the cutoff age?"

"It varies," Mika said, tipping my chin up and frowning at me before turning to upend my makeup bag onto my dressing table. "The Order gets rather stakey if you turn someone under eighteen, of course, and here in the States the dewey-faced youngster look isn't fashionable. Most nurseries on this side of the Atlantic think twenty-four is a good balance between fresh enough to last and mature enough not to get carded at clubs. If you take good care of yourself, you might scrape twenty-eight. Once you turn thirty, though, kiss your chance at immortality goodbye."

"How old were you when you were Turned?" Adrian asks.

"If you don't want to look like a crone by the time you're forty, you're going to have to start using moisturizer with sunscreen in it," Mika says, squirting a dollop of lotion into his palm. "It's bad enough already that you smoke like a chimney. You know it yellows your teeth, right?" "I use that whitening toothpaste," I shrugged. "Besides, I've seen vampires smoke before. I know they don't actually inhale, but it's an aesthetic thing, right?" Mika leaned forward to smear lotion on my cheeks. His fingers were smooth and cool, but not cold-- like a doctor's, clean and sort of impersonal, if someone's hands could feel impersonal. "Have you ever seen a vamp buy a pack of cigarettes?" "...No," I admitted after a moment. "Vampires know, better than anyone else, that fads come and go. It isn't the forties anymore, smoking isn't as cool as it used to be. It had a little resurgence around the end of the century, but it's falling out of favor again." "If I were a vampire," Adrian said slowly, "I don't think I'd want to let myself become addicted to anything." I watched Mika's lashes dip as he tossed a sidelong glance at Adrian, but said nothing as he dipped his fingers into a tub of raspberry lip gloss. "I mean, I don't know if vamps feel the affects of chemicals like humans do," Adrian went on. "But I can't imagine that a vampire would want to give up control to someone else." I look at Mika, who's pretending to be enthralled with sharpening an eyebrow pencil. "Well?" He doesn't look up. "Well, what?" "Do you know any vampire addicts?" "Not personally." It was a brutally short answer, for him. "I've never had a vamp come into the shop, either," Adrian said, then, in an attempt to dispel some of the tension, "maybe they're just smarter than us mortals." Mika snorted. "Of course we are. Wisdom of experience. On the other hand, mortals prove themselves useful once in a while. Bb cream, for instance. Lovely stuff. Hides a multitude of sins." Adrian's eyebrows knit. "What is a bb cream?" "Some kind of hyper-expensive goop that Mika forced me to buy while piling on insults about how horrible my skin looks," I smiled. "You don't take care of it, and someone has to be honest with you, darling," Mika cooed. "Look at this-- you haven't even opened it. I had the lovely ladies at the cosmetics counter color-match it for you and everything." "I, uh, didn't want to waste it?" I try. "Of course not, and that's why I'm here re-making your face so you won't frighten our quarry away. What happened to that setting powder? I know you had some. Ah. Here it is. And the concealer, to cover up those dark circles, you look like Bela Lugosi and believe me, the vamps at the nursery will not appreciate the reference." "Oh yeah, the shady nursery," Adrian said. I try to look at him, but Mika seizes my chin in his hand and jerks my face forward again. "The word around town was that if you wanted to get Turned, but you couldn't afford the fees or couldn't wait for your application to go through, you could go to this other place, a sort of under-the-table thing. Throw some money their way and they'd Turn you on the cheap, no lines, no waiting. They still won't let ugly people in, though." "So, discount vamp emporium. Is that illegal?" "There are rules about Turning because Turning people without rules results in a lot of young vampires who don't follow the law," Mika said, uncapping a liquid eyeliner pen. "The Order could go back to the stake-and-holy-water days, but it's just easier and more cost-effective if everyone behaves themselves. In a regular nursery, an elder vampire mentors you for two years after you're Turned. Sometimes longer. They want to make sure you know what you're doing before they kick you out into the world. That's why the waitlists are so long, and that's why the application process is so strict-- no one wants to waste their time with a vampire who isn't going to be exceptional." "Smells a little like fascism," Adrian said doubtfully. "Oh, don't worry. It's much shallower than that." "Gosh, what a relief," Adrian muttered. "So they want you to stop this cheap place because it's turning out substandard undead?" "It isn't turning out anyone at all," I said, trying not to flinch as Mika lined my eyes. "Plenty of people go in, but no one comes out." "So you're worried it's more dairy farm than nursery," Adrian guessed. Mika tossed the eyeliner back onto the dressing table with a clatter. "Or a slaughterhouse.” ((I am aware that Mika wouldn't have to use moisturizer and bb cream, since bbs usually have moisturizer and sometimes sunscreen in them already. But I forgot while I was writing it.))

[taco-night-frenzy]

A Fun Puzzle

Mirror Link to AO3: Here

A short stupid story based on the second puzzle from Azran Legacy shown below.

“Ah, Mr. Wright, it is always such a pleasure,” Layton said politely, opening the door to his home.

Phoenix smiled a bit sheepishly, taken aback. (I always forget how much of a ‘gentleman’ this guy is.) “Howdy, Professor!” (Why did I say howdy??)

Maya tilted her head. “Are we pretending to be American stereotypes, Nick? You could have at least told me!” She took a deep breath and shouted a bit too loud, “Howdy yall!!!”

With a light laughter that seemed all too perfect, Layton replied, “Please, please, come in.”

“Twern’t mind if I do, I plumb reckon!” Maya yelled, her voice gruff. (She’s getting too excited again. Most of that didn’t even make sense.)

“Mr. Wright, Ms. Fey,” Layton said between delicate tea sips.

Phoenix struggled to keep his pinky in the air, trying his best to match Layton’s gentlemanly nature and failing. Maya simply gulped the stuff down, practically choking on it. “Yeah, Professor?” She asked, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

For but a moment, Layton’s strange beady little eyes shone with a glimmer, the most emotion Phoenix had ever seen emit from that stoic face of his. “Would the two of you care for a puzzle? One for each of you.”

(Not in a million years, buddy, I know how your puzzles work.)

“Yeah!” Maya shouted before Phoenix could even speak. “That sounds like fun!” The attorney sighed. (Thanks, Maya.)

The Professor smiled, albeit a bit too happily. “Wonderful. Let’s start with Mr. Wright, shall we?”

(Fine, If I’m gonna be forced to solve one of these, I’ll do it right! Bring it on!)

“Sure thing, Professor,” Phoenix said, attempting to be nonchalant. (His first puzzle can’t be that hard)

His demeanor changed ever so slightly, but Phoenix couldn’t tell how. Layton sat straighter, his words seemed clearer, better enunciated.

“You receive a gift frozen in a block of ice. Next to the present, you find a note. The note says you may use five 150 ml cups of hot water to melt 30 g of ice. The block of ice is 2 kg. Can you figure out how many cups of hot water are needed to melt the ice?”

Phoenix blinked, his body frozen like a deer caught in headlights. (You gotta be kidding me.)

“Oh, I know!” Maya shouted, her leg banging against the table and rattling the delicate china. She didn’t notice. “This is so easy!”

Layton held up a finger and shook his head politely. “Ah, Ms. Fey, this is Mr. Wright’s puzzle! He must answer it for himself.”

The lawyer placed his teacup down. (I’ve gotten myself out of trickier situations than this, I can solve this puzzle!) Phoenix let out a small groan, his pointer finger fidgeting as he thought. (All right, I’m not the best at math, but this is pretty basic stuff. Shouldn’t be too hard. I’m pretty sure 100 grams equals 1 kilogram right? Oh, man, maybe I shouldn’t have given all my taxes and bills for Apollo to do.)

“Nick!” Maya poked his cheek. “Are you really stumped by this one?”

Phoenix flinched at her touch, deep in mathematical analysis. “Hang on! I’ll—I’ll get it, okay!”

(Wait a minute, how does 150 ml translate to g though? Maybe it’s the same principal but just water. No, wait! This is a trick! It doesn’t matter because 150 ml will melt 30 g of ice regardless!) Phoenix nodded to himself, smiling.

Maya simply grinned at that. “You have no idea, do you?”

(This isn’t so hard. Now it’s simply a matter of division. 2 kg divided by 30 g! So, uh… what is that. Okay, let’s try this a different way. 3 cups melt 90 g, and 4 cups will melt 120 g, which is 1.2 kg. I think. I’m getting this!)

Layton smiled, sipping at his tea, watching patiently.

(5 cups is 150 g, 6 cups is 180, and 7 cups is 210! That means it must be 7 cups!) The lawyer’s expressions seemed to change rapidly, completely forgetting the two around him. He frowned. (210 g? That doesn’t sound like a good number though. But it must be 7 cups!)

“I’ve got it!” Phoenix said with a start, the palm of his hand slamming on the table. “Uh, sorry,” he muttered as the china jingled again.

“Go ahead, Mr. Wright,” Layton said, unfazed.

“Seven cups!” Phoenix said with confidence, a small nagging in the back of his mind.

The Professor sipped his tea. “Incorrect.”

His pride was cut into two pieces, Phoenix felt like he had been slashed open by a broadsword! And the way he said it so curtly! (Like he knew I was gonna get it wrong!)

Maya giggled. “Oh, Nick! I can’t believe you got this wrong!”

(Argh! Hang on, hang on! I got this! I must have just gotten my math wrong!)

“Would you like to try to answer again, Mr. Wright?”

“Yes!” Phoenix answered a bit too quickly, his voice cracking. Soon he was back in his mind, looking over the facts.

(Right, what did he say at first? I had to use five 150 ml cups! Maybe that means I have to use 5 each time? No, no that can’t be right. Maybe it means the answer can’t be higher than 5! But then how is that right?)

Layton sipped his tea again silently, a quiet delight on his face. “Would you like a hint, Mr. Wright?”

“No!” He shouted. “Ah, uh, sorry. No, thank you.” (I don’t need a hint on the first puzzle, damn it!)

(Okay, so 5 must be the maximum number of cups I can use, then, got it. 5 cups would only melt 150 g though! But then, I guess the block is mostly melted? Maybe that must be the answer! How many cups does it take? Only the cups given! Of course!)

“Five cups!” Phoenix shouted, his voice wavering, he clearly wasn’t as confident.

No hesitation. “Incorrect.”

The Lawyer nearly fell out of his seat, his body trembling with sheer shame. (No way! There’s no way I can’t figure this out!)

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a hint, Mr. Wri-"

“I’m fine!”

(Okay! So, maybe the answer actually could go past 5. Whatever! It doesn’t matter! Think, Phoenix, think! This should be easy! Even Maya knows!)

Maya’s smirk quickly turned into concern. “Hey, Nick, you’re sweating a lot, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!!!”

(So 150 ml… what does that mean?? Wait, no, that doesn’t mean anything! It’s a red herring! …. Isn’t it? It is a red herring right? Oh, god, what if I actually have to translate ml into g? I don’t know how to do that, that’s not fair!)

Layton took another sip of his tea, one leg crossed over the other casually. He smiled politely.

(That smug… No, no! There’s no way he’d expect me to translate ml into g! Okay, so maybe there’s a trick to this. 5 cups were given to me…)

Phoenix let out a gasp as if he had stopped breathing the entire time. “That’s it!! I know the answer!”

Layton never flinched. Those beady eyes stared forward, confident, so confident, so sure. (I’ll show you!!!)

Power overflowed in his veins, his pointer finger was sharpened and ready to attack. With a dramatic pose, Phoenix locked eyes with Professor Layton and shouted, “One cup! Only one cup is needed! You don’t need anymore than that! You can just use the same cup!!”

(Haha! I got it! I got it this time!!)

“Incorrect.”

The world blurred around Phoenix temporarily. He lost balance. He felt faint. He felt sick. (Am I just stupid?! How can that be wrong!?)

“Nick…” Maya said near to him, worried. She’d seen Phoenix in situations where it was literally life or death and she had never expressed concern for him. “Nick, maybe just use a hint.”

“No!!!” Phoenix shouted, a small laugh of madness escaping his lips. “Sorry, haha, no! I don’t need a hint!”

(OKAY! So somehow 1 cup isn’t right! All right! It’s not a trick question somehow! I don’t know FUCKING how! But it’s not! Okay, just think, Phoenix! Each cup melts 30 g of ice and the ice itself is 2 KG. 7 cups melts 210g, so that should melt the whole thing! Is there a more efficient way to do it!? Or maybe it actually takes more? How many grams are actually in a kilogram again?!)

“8 cups!” Phoenix shouted desperately, sweat stains growing around his armpits, ruining his expensive blue suit.

“Incorrect.”

(My math must be off just slightly, then! That’s all!)

“6 cups!”

“Incorrect.”

(Oh my GOD. Okay, WAIT, hold on! 5 cups is the max! I forgot! So that means…)

“5 cups!”

“Incorrect.”

Each failure stabbed into his very soul, each failure felt as if a knife twisted and cut his insides, sliced open his pride, and bled his ego out. Each time Layton said it so casually! (Acting like he’s not judging me! He’s judging me! I know it!)

Layton continued to sip his tea, seemingly unconcerned with the pale ghost before him. “If I may, Mr. Wright, I believe this is time for, how you put it as, ‘flipping your way of thinking?’”

Phoenix’s eyes opened wide with a clear and unflinching glare filled with hatred and malice. (You!! He’s mocking me, I knew it! I know my own words!!....I think?... Do I say that?...) The lawyer quickly ran his hands through his spikey hair, messing it up with his frantic motions. (So, then, what he’s saying is, it’s a trick! It must be a trick! But how?! I already said 1 cup! I already said 5 cups! What else is there?!)

A gurgle escaped Phoenix’s throat, a bit of blood ran down his nose and into his mouth. He tasted iron. (No! It… it can’t be!) His hands shook visibly. (NO! It is, isn’t it!?) His body seemed to convulse. Maya was crying. Layton simply stared forever onward.

The words hissed out of his lips like a demon from the bowels of hell.

"̡̠̤̣͍͚̟͙̥͖͖͖ͦͦ̄ͧͪͮ̑̊̀́ͮ͆̓̏͞Î́͆ͪ̌̑ͥͮ͊ͨͮ͒̔ͧ͏҉̸̭̼̤͙̖̫̫̘̪̳̞̦̻͈̙͞t̨͇̜̟͈̂̄ͬͭ̅̋̾͂̎̅͛̐̆̆ͣ̚͡'̻̩̪͉̤̝̯̻̝͐͛̔̆̎̀̂͒ͨͦ̐ͧͮ̏̿̀͑͆͜s̸̪͚̣̱͚̈́ͩ̄͛̓͒̇͑͌̎͂̃̀̾̿͠͞ ̸̛̪̥̫̗̤̘ͩ̓͂͌̓̀̆ͩ͝z̆ͭͣͬ͜͏͏͍̘̗̼̳̩̲̝̰̜̪̗̦e̴͋ͯͦ͌́ͬ̐͏̯̯̳̼r̵̵͍̙̙̠͔̺͇̠̝͖ͤͦ̋ͩ͑̍̂̂͘͟o͓̪̯̰̫͕̗̪͉̪̖̟͖̦̣̼͇ͣ̆̿̇̍́̈́͗͆͑͒̂̐ͦ̇͐͛͘͝ͅ.ͯ̓̑͑̚��̸̸̝̹͉͇̬̦̜̫̝̠̘̣̖̻̬̾̒̐ͭͥ̄͑̌̔̐͌ͫ͆͟ͅͅ"̵͈̹̻̮̬͎̟͎̻̗̞͎̪̤͎ͮ͛͗͋̓̿̐̆͗ͨͯͅ

The walls of the room collapsed. Darkness loomed in all directions, cold, yet somehow burning his flesh. Layton never looked away, his smile was eternal.

“Correct.”

Maya was sobbing uncontrollably, shaking Phoenix’s body, begging him to snap out of it, screaming for help.

Before his lifeless corpse hit the floor due to a freak heart attack, Phoenix muttered his final words from his final breath: “Fuck this shit.”  

[takarazuka-rpf]

ITEIWAY 5

Disclaimer: This is an RPF (Real Person Fiction) meaning anything written here does not reflect the events in real life.

Chapter 5 Chigi: So today is the day. At 6 o'clock this morning, Chigi was woken up by a text from Mattsu saying that she had landed in Haneda airport and the address to her home. She hadn't seen Mattsu in nearly a year. The last time she saw her was backstage after a Caleb Hunt/Greatest Hits! showing. When Mattsu came and visited them, she had also bought her wife along with her. The staff and everyone in the revue that day kept that on the down-low because they wanted to protect the identity of Mattsu's wife and their relationship from prying eyes of fans. After Chigi had finished breakfast, which simply consisted of a bowl of cereal, she took a morning train to Tokyo where she will be having lunch with Mattsu in Mattsu's home. She didn't bother carrying too much with her as she's only out for the day (or so she thought). Therefore, grabbing her keys, purse and 2 bottles of champagne she bought for Mattsu and her wife, she headed out. By the time she got to Tokyo, it was already noon and Chigi is feeling her hunger more and more. If only Miyu was here with her home-cooking. Ah… she'd do anything to have that kind of luxury agai-  Nope, nope! She will not think about her. Today she will focus on catching up with Mattsu and having a good time. After taking a few deep breathes of the cold air, Chigi called a taxi and headed for Mattsu's address.  The Taxi driver must have seemed to recognise her because he kept on gazing her through his front mirror. Chigi wished that this driver would just confirm his recognition because it was kind of awkward the situation they are in now. Suddenly she hears a familiar voice through on the car radio.  Gosh, it seems like Chigi can never escape from that woman. It was Miyu singing the OST for her new drama series. Ironically, the lyrics seemed to be about forbidden and unrequited love. Chigi thinks the world must be playing a cruel joke on her.  Before she knew it, the driver turned up the radio and said, 'Ah, I've been obsessed with this song. Do you know her, Mister? Sakihi Miyu I mean?’  If the driver had recognised Chigi, he was obviously too dumb enough to not make the connection between herself and Miyu. And apparently also too dumb to get her gender wrong. 'She is this hot new actress you know? Very, very talented. Used to be a musumeyaku from that all-lady theatre company, a time wasted if you ask me, spending all those years with women only.' Chigi didn't like the way this conversation was going. 'Having said that, she has a great singing voice though and may I add a great figure too.' A smirk appeared on the man's face. Chigi is disgusted to see the man talking about Miyu in this way. The guy is practically drooling for goodness sake!  'Yep, I'm definitely a fan of hers alright!' The driver then let out a series of sounds that was a cross between a laugh and a snort. Chigi would describe him as a spitting image of a pig right now. He is obviously an old, perverted man who sees Miyu in a sexual way and Chigi did not like that one bit.  If it was legal to do so, she would have plunged a knife into the back of his neck by now. But thank god, the world had blessed her with self-control as she is now sitting back on her seat, taking deep breaths with her eyes closed, trying to enjoy Miyu's voice instead. 'Yep we're here. That'll be 950 yen please.’ Chigi said nothing and handed over the money to him. 'Mister, you don't really speak very much do you?' the driver joked. Chigi couldn't believe the nerves on this guy.  She opened the taxi door and said, 'no I don't. And for you information, I'm a woman.’ Just as Chigi was about to get out of the car, she caught the look on the driver's face. It was the face of dread and sudden realisation.  'Ta-ta-ka-ka-ra…,' the man had managed to utter out. 'Yes.' Is the only word Chigi said, before walking away with a smug look on her face.  Finally she could get some fresh air. But Chigi's mind suddenly went back to Miyu.  Is this the type of person Miyu has to deal with? What if someone like him approaches Miyu? What if someone like him ends up marrying her? All these questions started to invade Chigi thoughts but Chigi immediately shook her head trying to clear of them.  Miyu is not her responsibility anymore, actually what is she talking about, Miyu has never being her responsibility. Chigi believes that Miyu should be mature enough to realise that there are people like him out there and that she should avoid them. Chigi is also sure that there are probably people protecting Miyu as well. Chigi sighs. Not matter what, it seems like Chigi can't get Miyu out of her mind. But thankfully, Chigi still remembers what she is here for though. She found her way to Mattsu's address, which didn't take too long, and pressed the doorbell. Maybe being in Mattsu's presence will make her forget about Miyu's presence for a few hours.  She couldn't be more wrong.

Being early November, the days are chilly and windy and unfortunately for Chigi she hated it because she hated the cold. After ringing Mattsu's doorbell a few moments ago, she had been shivering outside Mattsu's Tokyo home waiting for Mattsu to come down and get her.  By-passers had been giving her a look as if to say 'why is this person waiting outside in the cold like this?' Chigi just hoped none of them were Takarazuka fans. She tucked her hands into her coat pocket and started to fiddle with the keyring inside which was attached to her keys.  As she traced its snow-shaped outline with her fingers, she felt warmth rise within her as this keyring had always been a source of comfort. It reminded her of home. Then next to her, the door suddenly opened. 'Chigi!! Nice to see you again!' Mattsu gave Chigi a hug and as she spoke, steam was coming out of her mouth. 'Sorry for the long wait. I was just unpacking. Come on in, you must be freezing.’ 'Hell yeah I am,' with this Chigi slipped into the door and into the warm, cosy home of Mattsu's. Once the door was closed, Chigi turned around and said, 'Mattsu! Long-time no see, how have you been? How's business in England?' She was glad to see her friend again. 'Yes indeed! I've been doing pretty well and my business is doing alright too. Haha enough to pay the bills. How about you though, how's post-taka life treating you? Wait let's go and sit down on the sofa.’ As they sat down, Mattsu's wife came out from the kitchen with a tray of tea. 'Chigi-san! How are you? Actually, no time to talk. I'm in a rush to go to a meeting so I'll see you and Mattsu in a few hours. The lunch is ready in the kitchen so feel free you eat it when you two are ready.' Said Mrs Mattsu. 'Ehhhh? Are you not going to eat with us? I haven't even properly said hello yet.' Exclaimed Chigi. 'No no it's ok, eat without me. Anyway I have some business to attend to so I'll need to get going now.' With that she bent down to peck Mattsu on the lips and left the house.  'Gosh you wife seems so busy. Within hours of landing in Japan and she has a meeting to attend to? Woah I'm impressed.' Said Chigi while sipping the tea Mrs Mattsu brought out.  'Haha yeah, well it can't be helped. She has a company of her own and there things needing to be sorted out by her.’ 'I'm sure you guys earn more than enough to 'just pay the bills' right?' Said Chigi while giving Mattsu a knowing smile. 'We're doing ok I guess.' Chigi can see that Mattsu is being modest but this is one of the traits Chigi liked about her.  'Anyway are you hungry? Let's move to the kitchen.' The two got up and sat opposite each other on the kitchen table which was filled with delicious food already prepared for them.  Looks like Mattsu got herself a wife who can cook! 'So Chigi, how about you. What is your work situation like?’ 'Well,' said Chigi with a mouth full of rice, 'I'm currently a teacher at the middle school I used to go to. It's just a temporary one though. I need to buy myself some time to think over some stuff.’ 'Such as?’ 'You know, if I want to carry on in the entertainment industry or not… if I want to start a family of m-’  'You mean love life?' Mattsu interrupted. Chigi nearly chocked on her rice. Mattsu's straight-forward personality hasn't changed one bit, as well as her love to gossip. Having said this, this is the subject Chigi had wanted to talk about.  Mattsu is the only person (other than Tomomin, who is on holiday in Hawaii right now) whom she feels comfortable enough to open up to. The main reason for this, is because she and Mattsu shared the same interest, which is the fairer sex, in other words, women.  'Ye-yeah well, including that too.' Mattsu nodded to Chigi's words. 'So how's Miyu doing?' Chigi nearly chocked again. Gosh this woman can read her like an open book. 'Last time I heard, she's doing pretty well. Actually, can we not talk about h-’ 'So I presume you guys are still 'friends'?’  'Of course. We've always been friends.' Looks like Mattsu isn't going to let them get out of the subject of Miyu.  There was a slight pause and Mattsu said, 'Miyu is doing pretty well for herself isn't she? On the way home in the car, I saw at least 10 different advertisements with her face on.’ 'Yeah she is. I'm glad for her, really, I knew that kid would go far.' Chigi said with a little proudness in her heart. Mattsu gave an understanding nod again. 'Hmm ok. So anyway, when are you thinking of confessing to her?’ Chigi chocked again. Seriously, eating while having a conversion with Mattsu is a dangerous game. 'I'm not.' Chigi simply said. 'What do you mean 'I'm not'? You guys can literally blind a dog if it was alone in a room with you two. It's physically painfully for me to see two people in love and not tell each other’ Chigi sighs, 'How many times do I have to say it. Miyu doesn't think of me in that way, at least not anymore. I'm a woman and she is straight, full stop. No one can change those facts.' A pause followed and then Chigi carried on, 'and let's not forget, remember the backlash you faced when you confessed you love for a woman.' Chigi knew this was a sore subject for Mattsu but she continued on anyway. 'I can handle it but Miyu, Miyu has a whole career in front of her and I refuse to be the one to ruin that.' There was a pause again. 'Chigi. I'm going to say something here and I don't want you to interrupt until I finish ok?' Chigi wanted to protest but gave up and nodded instead. Mattsu carried on, 'I can bet on my life that Yuumi-chan feels the same way about you as you feel about her.’    Chigi scoffed. As if! 'Eventhough, I've only seen you two together a few times before, but it is more than obvious to me how she feels about you. The way she looks at you, the way she speaks to you, the way she acts around yo-‘ 'Well isn't that how every musumeyaku acts with their top-san. With heart eyes and an overwhelming sense to serve them?' Chigi had to interrupt here. 'Indeed but with Miyu it's different! Miyu sees you as a woman. She sees you for who you truly are. And she likes for who you truly are.’    'You can't possibly know that, you hardly know her!’ 'But you do! You know her better than anyone. And the fact that you can't see she is madly in love with you is beyond mine or anyone's comprehension!’  There was a moment of silence after this and Mattsu continued on softly, 'I know this isn't what you want to hear, but I can see that you're suffering. Miyu is probably somewhere suffering as well. Sometimes I think your stubbornness is too much for your own good.’    Chigi let out a puff. At this moment in time, Mattsu looks like a mother trying to talk sense into her 5 year old child.  'Are you going to see her anytime soon?’ Chigi wondered if she should tell Mattsu or not but decided to anyway because it won't make any difference to this current situation 'Yes in a few weeks' time. We're meeting up for a meal.’ 'Well, you still have some time to decide what you want to do then,' said Mattsu finally taking a bite of her own food. Mattsu was right, indeed Chigi has a lot of time. But she has already decided though. She is determined to keep everything just as they are and continue to avoid any more questions or topic conversations to do with Miyu.

[gurl2irl-blog]

UNDER THE ARCHWAY by Zachary Ross

I’ve been consuming a lot of post apocalyptic media lately, but also have had a lot of problems with it and themes I didn’t enjoy! Post apocalyptic media has never felt very mysterious to me, and I never felt a lot of times there was any “hope”. So with that in mind, I’ve written this short story about the struggles of a mysterious world and finding hope in a barren wasteland! Enjoy!!

There’s nothing else away from the tower, those who venture out never come back. The land that wraps in thin, spiraling strips around the outer rim of it is our only living space. Going inside The Tower itself isn’t an option anymore, all that’s in there is the remains of a civilization we don’t understand, and entities who want us dead. No one has ever been to the top or bottom either, as the environment both in the tower and the environment wrapping around it become too cruel. “To be satisfied with the way we live now normalizes the problems we can easily fix, a future must come from those in the present.” Those are the last words she told me before she went into the tower, despite what we all told her. We were never supposed to go in there, or navigate into there without prior preparation. But that day she headed in without heeding my words. I’d scream and shout for days, trying to get her back, trying to find something that would let her know we needed her. But nothing worked. Nothing ever works. I open my eyes to find myself staring up at the dark maroon stone roof of my home, laying within my bed. The warmth of the covers is enough to keep my body and being comfortable, but the cold morning air from the window brushes against my face, sending a chill down my spine. I am awake. I lay there momentarily, entirely still, as if my limbs are asleep; and continue to look at the roof. It looks like it has some cracks in it, probably from age, but it gives the stone and clay a very natural look. Small light comes in through the window above my bed, allowing me to see the dust that flies around in the luminesce. The world continues to move, even though I have yet to even move with it. I slowly rise from the covers of my bed, and look around the room. Now the morning air is much more noticeable, almost as if it was waiting to hit me the moment I removed myself from the warmth of that cocoon. Seed bags and books line the floor, an unorganized shelf of foods and herbs staring straight back at me from the pantry shelf across from my bed. My tools and supplies sit in the corner of the room in a metal pile, dust slightly settling on the sickle and basket. The way they lay there almost makes me feel guilty, but I guess there’s nothing really to be guilty about. I shift out of bed in nothing but my underpants and start to stretch. It’s the same morning as always, alone in this small home of mine. Food supplies are running short lately, so making myself a large breakfast is out of the question. I approach the shelf of cans and bags and see what I could possibly eat for today. Seeing how things are lately, my best option right now would be to make just a small soup. I take a can of tomato paste and use the sickle from the tool pile to pry it open. Despite its age, the tool itself is still quite sharp. Searching the floor of this single room, I find a small piece of flint I can use to start the stove fire for today. With a few clicks, a weak fire burns under this small, stone slab I call a “stove.” I place an iron container over the stone and set the soup in it, adding some of the herbs from shelf.  As the soup boils, I look out the window above my bed. An outstretch of topaz soil presents itself in front of me, the land as barren as always. From here, I can also still make out the soil I tilled and watered since last month. Still nothing. It’s hard to believe anything can even grow on this land when the underground is only 40 feet deep between sectors. The sky has a dark purple hue to it, as the sun is still just rising over the horizon of this area, giving it a slight tinge of yellow. I hear the shuffling of my two cattle from inside, but I cannot see them from the window as of right now. As I turn, I accidently slam my one of my horns into the side of the wall, and let out a loud yelp. Sometimes I forget how much I’ve let these things grow, you can’t really see change in yourself without reference. I walk over to the mirror on foot of the bed, and stare into it. Looking back at me is a somewhat hefty looking humanoid, with black dotted eyes and a jagged mouth, an outstretched elongated nose covers the mouth slightly. Two rugged horns stretch out from the head, both facing out into a downward curve. I stand there for a moment and then sigh, there’s really nothing else to be said. Pouring the warmed soup into a small bowl, I’m actually quite satisfied with the taste for the most part. I’m no chef, but working with the materials given, it could’ve been much worse. As I drink the red liquid, there is a knock at the door. I look up from my bowl straight at the chipped door that separates me from the outside. “Hold on!” I yell out, I can’t just answer the door like this. I open my closet and put on my work clothes, consisting of a dirty patterned shirt, leather pants, a belt that’s a little too tight, and some black boots. After getting dressed, I lumber over to the door and open it. The moment I open it, a loud “HEY THERE!” bursts through the silent home. “I have mail for you Ms. Elviyan, as per usual!” I blink for a moment, and then groggily nod. Bulisma is as loud as ever. You’d think with her mail carrying job she’d be more professional about it than just shouting. “Oh! May I come in also if that’s OK? The winds today were a little rough on me, my wings could use a rest, haha!” Before I even respond, she steps into my home. Her golden shoulder tassels from the blue mail uniform sway left and right as she waddles over to sit at the table. Her soft, round fur-covered face stairs back at me with a fanged smile, as she chuckles to herself. I squint slightly trying to give her a disapproving look, but she either can’t read my expression or is willfully ignoring what I’m trying to convey. 

I pull up a chair from across her and sit down with a sigh, “So, uh…I guess you’re done with deliveries for today if you can just barge in like this, aren’t you?” She once again smiles and nods at me. “You betcha! Everyone in town was pretty active today, apparently some new information about The Ancestors came in!” She reaches into her pouch bag and slides over a small paper clipping to me. “Look at this!” the paper clipping has an image of a burly, horned man holding up a small, metallic, box-like object. There seem to be symbols all over small, circular keys that line the front of it, with a black bar at the top. “BIG NEWS: Ancestral Drawing Device Discovered!” the headline reads. Bulisma points happily at the image, “You see here, this apparently was a device that let The Ancestors put paper in, and output small panoramas! Like each of the keys pressed will put a small symbol, and they think that The Ancestors used it either to write or draw! Isn’t that amazing!? Ya know, and it’s not like the other metallic devices they’ve found in the tower either, it doesn’t require any “power” and you can eas-” I slide the paper back and look at Bulisma. 

I look at her with tired eyes and a frown, “Look. That’s great. But how does this help us? What does this device…do? Is it just for fun? Entertainment? Why announce something like this? This doesn’t benefit us now or today in what we need to do.” I feel bad talking to her like this, after how excited she looked, but I do have to be honest with her. Lack of water and minerals within the soil has been a big problem, and there’s evidence The Ancestors had devices that could help with that, so why did the Catalogers come back with nothing but an entertainment device? What help is this to us? Bulisma stops for a moment, and kinda smiles eerily back at me, her small trunk scrunching up a little. “Ah! You’re - you’re right Elvi, I’m sorry for showing ya! Ahahah…” there she goes with that “sorry” again, you can tell by the look on her face that she felt bad for showing me. I sigh and get up from the chair. “Look…are you hungry? I’m sure the trip down here was a lot, just stay here and let me get you something.” She turns from the chair to me and just nods, “Y-Yeah! I’d like that a lot, thank you Elvi! Hahaha…” I don’t know when she started using that nickname, but it’s definitely a new word in her vocabulary. After eating up some more of the liquid from the can, I pour it from the stone pot into the bowl, and put it on her side of the table.  

We sit there silently for a moment, just eating our food. She occasionally will look up at me, but I try not to meet her gaze as to encourage her to ramble again. But I guess that doesn’t stop her, as she puts down her spoon at opens her mouth. “Oh! Have you been to the village a little down the strip lately? I noticed you’re still using that blanket that one vendor got from inside the tower haha…” she nods for a moment again. “They say they’re worried about you and hoping crop season is going well! Apparently they’re gonna try holding a festival soon!” I look up from the bowl at her, and then avert my gaze and shrug. “It’s…the same as it usually is, I guess. You’d think that crops would grow better in higher temperatures like this higher on the tower but…still nothing. After 3 years living her, such little progress has been made, if any.” She looks again at me and just nods again, a nod and look that says “I understand, I’m sorry,” but she knows she can’t say that. She knows how anxious it makes me when she apologizes like that.“Have you tried moving away from the tower again? I’m sure the land closer to the rim will be more fertile, it gets more sun since there’s no strips right above it all the time!” I shake my head. “The soil around the rim is too thin, crops won’t be able to grow very well out there, and water is difficult enough even when I’m next to one of the Tower’s sources.” Bulisma nods and looks down again. “W-Well uh, if you ever…wanna move back into town again, I’m sure everyone would be happy, haha…” While she said it smiling, she frowns right after she finishes talking. She knows why I moved away, what’s the point of being within a community you can’t support properly. For the rest of the meal, we both sit there silently, the only noises coming from our eating and the clinking spoons on the stone bowls. 

Once she’s finished, she pushes back out her chair and stands up. “Well! Uh, thank you so much for the meal, it was really great!” There it is, I can see I brought down her mood again. The way she stands is slightly more hunched and defensive than before. It’s not her fault, I was the one being rude; but to apologize to her now might seem half-hearted, so the least I can do is be kinder as she’s heading out. I stand up and dust myself off. “Yes, I’m glad it was able to help somewhat.” She smiles again and nods, letting out a small nervous laugh. I…try to smile back and nod, but it comes out very forced. Regardless, she seems to take this as a, “I enjoyed our time,” and slightly loosens and perks back up. As she heads out, the door, she points to the pen where the cows relax. “Oh, did something happen to Selvanson?”

…Huh? What did she mean by that? I step out the door with her to look at the pen. The humid, dry air hits me, as my eyes adjust to the yellow morning skies. The dry, dead land outstretches before me still, none of anything I’ve planted yielding anything. This is nothing new for me, what surprises me is what the pen holds; and what it holds is…one less cow. Selvanson is gone. I look directly at Bulisma with panic in my eyes, my heart racing. “Did you see him when you got here? Was he here?” she nods looking at me with worry. I run over to the pen, and check the fence. I forgot to lock the gate. I forgot to lock the gate. I forgot to lock the gate. My head starts to pound and my body gets heavy as the stress of the situation encompasses me. How could I make a mistake so careless? How could I do something like this? I feel stagnant, like I can’t move, like something is holding me down. Bulisma approaches me and puts her hand on my shoulder. “Hey, it’s OK, don’t worry. we can ask the other people for help finding him, and I’m sure-“ I shake her hand off my shoulder. “No. No. We need to find him now. Right Now.” I desperately search the ground around the pen, looking for any sort of clues. The gate seems to have just been easily pushed open by him, maybe on accident. I look at the ground of the gate and notice vague indents in the ground from where they must’ve walked. I follow the footsteps, head pounding, eyes frantically searching the land over and over; and eventually I find a trail that leads into the tower. I stand straight up, and stare at it. The looming spires stand in front of me, almost as if it was some entity that I could feel. Standing at 7000 miles from top to bottom, I feel the entire weight of it suddenly on my shoulders. My cow went in through one of the thousands, if not millions of archways that led into the tower, and I could do nothing to stop them. Bulisma notices me staring intently at the tower, eyes full of dread, and walks over to me. “I’m…sorry this happened…”, putting her hand on me again. “I promise you, this wasn’t your fault, at all…OK? Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out and we’ll-“ I walk forward, having her hand slide off of me. I look at her sternly, with my intentions clear as the sky. “I’m going inside.”She stares back at me blankly for a moment, eyes wide. A look of disbelief paints her face, I would be shocked too if I was her. So I explain it again. “I am going inside the tower to find Selvanson. He has wondered in and I am going to get him out.” I turn away from Bulisma and head into the dark tower archway before me. “W-Wait! Wait..” she shouts. “You…you can’t just go in there! I know things are dire, but let’s think this thing through together, OK? It wouldn’t be any good if anything happened to you ahahah...” She approaches me as if to stop me. “Let’s go back to your house, and we can ask if they can bring us another cow from one of the higher regions for ease, OK?” She smiles wearily. Despite being covered in fur, I could feel she was just dripping in a nervous sweat. She didn’t want me to go in there. Hell, no one in their right mind would, except for Catalogers, but more often than not they come back with smaller numbers each time. I’ve only been in there once, but she doesn’t know that. “I’m going in no matter what you say. If anything happens to me, you can tell the villagers.” Bulisma looks down and clenches her fists. “But...but...“ she looks up at me, trunk scrunched up and tears welling up, “You can’t go in there alone!” I look at her confused for a moment before realizing what she’s implying. “I can’t take you with me, it’s dangerous, and I-“ She runs up to me and hugs me hard, starting to tear up into my work clothes. “Even if it is, you’re my friend and I can’t let you do this alone! I’m going to help no matter what!” Why is she getting so emotional over this? We’ve only been friends since my mother passed, and that’s only about 9 years. It’s not like we’re childhood friends. If we were, she would’ve probably left by now like all the others…but, I don’t know what, but something compels me to accept this. Something inside me says, “you won’t regret this, take the offer”. So I hug her back and tell her, “Alright, you can come along, but stay a distance away from me, you have higher mobility thanks to your ability to fly and glide, so it should be easier for you to escape if worse comes to worst.” She tilts her head from my chest to look at me, and sniffles. “I promise! Lets just not go too deep, and stay safe, OK!?” I sigh and nod. I’m sure wherever the Cow walked off to, it will be fine. It will be fine. It will be fine.

I walk back to the house with Bulisma and get some equipment scattered around just in case. Rope for any sort of descents we’ll be needing to make, a sickle in case we run into any trouble, and a single can of soup, just in case. It’s not a very large or extensive loadout for an exploration like this, but ideally it should only take an hour or so if all goes well. As I get all these supplies, Bulisma rattles off a bunch of info we both already know extensively. “Remember, the water reserves in the tower are pressurized in a manner that we can’t touch them directly or else!” 

“Don’t eat any of the vegetation, ‘cause almost always it won’t agree with your immune system!” 

“Any metallic objects with Mirror like flat segments should not be brought outside, as they usually contain corrosive materials within them!” 

“While the building is sturdy, it’s still made of synthetic stone! Don’t move things too much!”

It’s hard to believe with so many warnings and dangers, people still choose to explore the tower without getting any sort of registration. But I guess at this point, we’re not much better…heading into a barren, dangerous location like this in search of something so simple. Before heading out, I look back in the mirror one last time. The same visage looks back at me, horns and all. I sometimes wonder, are my eyes actually showing me what I’m seeing, or just what I think I am?From the house, we both exit back into the outside world, the blazing sun obscured by the strips of land that lay almost 500 feet above us. The shadow of the land extends before us, obscuring the dark, stone-patterned archway that leads into that dreaded spire. As we approach the tower, I can see Bulisma obviously looking very anxious. Her trunk slightly swaying from side to side, the way her ears are tensed up, refusing to sway with the light breezes that pass us by. I still don’t know why she agreed to partake in this journey with me, she has no benefit from it and nothing to gain, yet she remained firm. Is there something I know she doesn’t, something to give her this oblivious confidence?  As we step towards the tower’s archway, a cold air blows from the inside, the wind howling through the countless windows and archways that line all facets of it. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment, trying to ground myself in the location I am in now. The world lays around me, unmoving. I don’t know how long I stand there, focusing, but it’s long enough to make Bulisma tap on my shoulder to try to wake me up. I open my eyes and look at her, her face is painted with that anxious, fanged smile. “Let’s…just get in, and then get out, yeah?” She sounds more coy than usual, but her tone remains somewhat with cheer. “We’re gonna go in and find Selvanson easy peasy, I know it! Haha…” I can’t really smile in an instance like this, or really reassure her any better, so all I do is just give a firm, direct nod. I step into the tower first.To say the inside of the tower is dark would be an understatement. At this time of day, the sun doesn’t really shine very well on us, but obscured even more within the stone walls, we are covered by a dark, pitch blackness. At my feet descends a pit, the only support and way of maneuvering below is a steel ladder, rusted over decades but sticking strong. I crouch down, and place my palm on the cold steel bar, sending a shiver down my spine. I start to position myself, and climb down the ladder. As I go down, multiple openings and windows from the rest of the tower surround me in this tight dark corridor, becoming my only light. I can’t see my own body, yet I look out to see the yellow sky of the outside stretch out. I continue down the ladder for what feels like five minutes straight, never stopping. Above me, Bulisma also climbs down, in this tight space I guess it would be difficult to fly or glide, so this is our only way to enter and exit the tower. She chuckles in an attempt to thin the tense air, “Phew, this is quite the climb, isn’t it! You’d think at this point, we might as well be at another strip, haha…” Almost as if the tower heard her, through a narrow window, I can make out the soil from another strip below. But before I can comment on it, sunlight from afar slams into my back, giving a subtle warmth I almost forgot existed. Looking behind, I behold a sight I never anticipated in my life.A large, rectangular space stretches out, layered with different pathways and halls before. A single, statue-like structure rests within the middle of the space, indicating it as a sort of hub-like area, surrounded by what looks like hundreds of medium-sized rooms with glass and metallic doors. The space feels compacted, almost as if constructed separately from the tower itself, more resembling a space that was simply “placed” here. The glass tower of water that runs throughout the entire tower stands at the center of the area, almost like a single bone that keeps all the muscle connected. It’s the only thing I guess providing us with the water we need. The sun flitters in from holes and windows within the walls, giving the area a faint, blue shade as if the evening surrounded us. It seems this place was deep enough that the other side of the tower can shine through it. Above me, Bulisma makes an audible gasps and lets out a noise of awe and wonder. “This…this is beautiful!” She jumps off the ladder suddenly, adjusting herself into a spread T-position and letting her wings unfurl out from under her arms. She starts to glide around the area, performing small loops and flips, laughing to herself in excitement. I sigh to myself and descend down the rest of the ladder, reaching the floor below, it’s cold and feels metallic, but looking at the material it’s more reminiscent of marble. Through the cracks in the tiles, small amounts of dirt stick out where white glowing fungus caps seem to be growing. For just a brief moment, I ask myself how sustainable is the soil here, that a mushroom can grow? But I shake myself out of it. I look up at Bulisma, still flying around excitedly. “Bulisma, I know you’re excited, but please, be careful here. We can't risk being too loud, those things might hear us.” She heeds my words and starts to slowly descend, landing a floor below me in the plaza area. “Sorry!” she whisper-shouts. “I just never thought I’d see a shopping area like this! Did you know The Ancestors used to commune in areas like this for trading goods and services? I even hear that so-“ I show her my flat palm, and she gets the message that that’s enough for now. “For now, it would be best if we split up. The fact we did not find Selvanson dead at the bottom of the ladder means it’s still alive and moving around. I will head into the storefronts, and you head deeper into the plaza area. Understand?” She gives me a slightly hurt look, but nods in understanding. “Sounds good, ahaha…let’s just meet back here every couple hours, OK?” I nod back to her. She smiles at me, and starts to climb up the side of one of the walls. She readies her legs and launches herself off into a glide in the other direction. Despite her sunny and loud personality, she’s quite agile and quiet. I guess that’s to be expected of someone from the Upper Strips. I turn the other way, and start to explore the corridor that outstretches before me.

I explore multiple stores and enclosures, looking for any sort of clues within to see if Selvanson had entered. But most small venues turn up nothing but relics from the past. I find a small storefront that sold now entirely rotted leather shoes, an enclosed space lined with glass and small seeing glasses behind cases, and even an area with rotted metallic materials that leaked a crusty, white goo. I searched and searched, but there was no luck, I had to keep going in deeper though, even at the risk of encountering one of those creatures. Finally, I enter a glass archway farther down the corridor, broken glass lines the floors of a wet, soggy carpeted floor, years upon years of time having made the material mold and fold over on itself. On top of a raised counter, a sleek yet disheveled device stands, its mirror-like surface cracked; while on the back scraggly wires hang out, eroded away from the materials that they contain. This type of corrosion isn’t uncommon with devices like these, The Ancestors used to use them a lot for everyday tasks and activities. However, it’s highly unadvised even for Catalogers to bring them back, as the materials they contain could be seen as corrosive and dangerous to the outside world, or so we’re told. Lining the walls are rotted pieces of parchment within wooden frames, eligible at this point of time and with no meaning to this world. 

I explore the room in search of any clues that a cow might have been here, footprints or waste of any sort. I find some newly made indents in the ground, where the moldy floor has been pressed down by a heavy force recently. I head deeper into the room, past a small archway where a door remained, and find myself in a crumbled corridor of darkness. I take out a small wooden staff and a much smaller rectangular object. This rectangle was a device of The Ancestors that runs on fuel and gas found from the ground, and allows us to create fire. I light the staff ablaze, and raise it high in my hand to create a light in this thick darkness. The indented footsteps I found earlier seem to lead into multiple rooms, as if whoever left them explored most of these rooms, so I choose to search every room. In one room I find a flat, metal table where a rotted cloth lays; and a large, laid-back swiveling chair destroyed with deep gashes in its sides, almost as if something cut them themselves. The gashes couldn’t have been from Selvanson, and there have been no recent Catalogers within my area, so I couldn’t think that this could be created by them either. I exit the room unsure of what could have caused them, but in my mind I had a feeling of what it could have been, and I don’t want to see it. 

In another room, I find walls of glass that are lined with containers and labels I am unable to decipher. I look into most of the containers to find nothing but dust from whatever remained in them originally. Whatever used to be in these containers used to be of great value, as on most of the glass walls, a large rusted lock lays either on them or on the ground in front of them. On some of the signs and labels on these containers, a small plus symbol lays on them, a lost symbol that means nothing to this world. For a brief moment, I remember her. “Take what you need,” she would tell me, “If you were to ever bring anything back, there could be hope again for someone out there.” And for a brief moment, I consider it. I consider taking it. What if I take it and help someone? What if I take it and it benefits everyone? I panic for a moment, what if this makes a change? Against my better judgement, I pick it up suddenly and pocket it into my bag. Why am I doing this? What will this help? I stand up, and move along. I don’t think about it again; or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself not to do.Leaving the room, I notice down the hall is the deepest footsteps it looks like, much more fresh and new. They appear to be the same as Selvanson’s, but this is just an assumption on my part. What if at the end of those it’s not his? What if it’s something else? I didn’t know what lay before me past those doors, but what else could I do? Meet back up with Bulisma and just tell her, “Sorry, let's go home”? She’d pity me. She’d look at me like a failure, like I did wrong once again, like I shouldn’t have decided to do this. We’ll just go back up, climb that ladder, and nothing will change once again. The fact I’ve even made this decision was a big step, so why go back now? Why go back to that life of waking up every day, waking every morning to look at the barren land where nothing to grow and just to sit there and ponder to myself? I can’t give up now. I can’t be weak. I can’t be like her, the one who stays with me and haunts me every waking moment now. But there might be something else behind that door. It might not be Selvanson, but something else, one of those beings they always warn us about.

Details always vague, dangerous masses of flesh, for all I know they might just be fairy tales to keep us out of here. The Melted, my mother would call them. But in the back of my mind, my anxiety holds a grip on me. I stare at the looming door, still unsure of what could be behind it. Life on the surface remains barren and unmoving, people come together as communities, but there’s been no progress. I’m not the only farmer who hasn't really been able to yield crops, there are many. And it keeps getting worse every year, almost slowing down even. Down here isn’t much different, just looking at this place, it’s barren. The sunlight barely flitters in and the soil doesn’t seem sustainable much more. Fungus can flourish here but only because it’s so close to the water that lines this tower. My fist grips tighter. What happens if I bring something back like I wanted? But I can’t do that either, I could risk a lot of danger bringing more unknown materials up. But without those same materials, what if we can’t prosper up on the strips? My head spirals, my chest starts to clench as my eyes dart the room. I grip the handle on the door, and swing it open.   Inside is a closed room, one where the ragged carpet ends and ahead of me, and I immediately look around the isolated space until my eyes focus on what lays in the center. Laying on the ground, a destroyed, iron bipedal being stretches over the ground, its legs destroyed almost as if they were crushed, and a large gash on the being’s “Head”. Its abdomen slashed open, where a milk like substance leaks out and onto the ground. The creature lays on the ground unmoving, I simply stare at it for a moment before I sigh to myself. “Oh, Selvanson…” I slowly approach him and crouch down to examine the head. I wasn’t expecting him to survive the fall, but it was still shocking to see him in a state like this. I turn the head first left, and then right to examine the underside, checking to see what wires and things would be salvageable. It looks like most of the wires are undamaged thankfully being protected by rubber, and the manure storage in the head also remains undamaged. I carefully tear away at the dented metal to unclip the wires attacked by small facets and put them into my bag. Being careful not to cause any more damage to it, I rip away most of the “flesh” like synthetic material from the head to get at the manure storage. The odor from the mechanical device reeks, but I guess it’s expected to when it’s mostly used for soil growth. It seems to be mostly empty also, was it all josled out from the fall, or did it fall out when it got over into this area? I can’t think about it too much though, I need to see if I can salvage the Black Box finally, I guess...the brain of the cow. 

My eyes wander and gaze down back at the stomach area, where processed pseudo-milk still leaks out. I tear the hole in the stomach larger and larger, until I’m able to reach inside of the Cow and remove the black box from the rubber bag it is contained in. Still in tact, thank goodness, hopefully it doesn’t retain too many areas of this area or it might not function as properly. Was there even a reason to give these machines a personality to them, it’s weird how they’ve used these to emulate previous fauna of the pre-Tower environment. But why did it wander into the tower in the first place? Or...I guess the better question would be, how did it get into here? The Cow models can maneuver and open doors easy, but not with legs this damaged. There’s no possible way he could have crawled over here either, after considerable damage like this, Cows shut down until the black box is salvaged. I realized something just now, after all this time in silence passed by. Something dragged it here.

Before I can collect my thoughts about the subject though, the room rumbles, almost as the earth itself quakes, shaking the entire room and throwing me back. I stumble backwards into a large cabinet and slam my head straight into it, letting out a loud yelp and falling to the ground. From the top of it, a piece of paper falls and lands in my lap, with the shaking slowly coming to an end. I touch the top of my head to notice blood coming down from around the point where my horns stand. Whatever caused the event and shake like that must’ve been from the base or around the area if it was that strong, I don’t know what else could have caused it. I pick up the piece of paper, just to examine it for any pictures of anything of interesting info. My mother said taking stuff like this is valuable, but I never really saw the merritt in it myself. It’s not like we can read or ever understand the language, it’s just absolutely useless material that’s just another echo of the past, another reminder of something we might never be able to reach. I hear those words again in my head, louder this time. “If you were to ever bring anything back, there could be hope again for someone out there.” But why? There’s no use here, there’s nothing this will do to help me, or the others in towns just some time away, or those above or below, what can this info do to benefit anyone? I ponder more and more trying to discern her words, would this really be something worth taking back up above, or would this just be another factor in keeping a false hope that can’t remain much longer? Again, I found myself within this stalemate of what to do, what to gain by taking up such a useless parchment that could possibly change everything from what I know. Taking it would increase the chances of encountering a Melted, but if I just leave it will be fine. It will be fine. It will be fine.

I sigh, stand up, and place the piece of paper in my bag. I’ve completed what I needed to do down here and basically found everything I needed, so I need to head back to the plaza to meetup again with Bulisma, hopefully she’s already there, it has been a while since I’ve entered this area. I stand up and dust myself off, my pants slightly soggy from crouching onto the molded ground below. As I stand, my torch creates a dim light around the room, but suddenly the light becomes useless, as a headbeam shines onto me from the back. I stare at the wall for a moment noticing my shadow, realizing the light isn’t from me. So I turn around, and immediately notice what the light is coming from. A shadowy, obscured figure stands in the doorway, standing about 7 feet tall, completely naked and covered in a wrinkled flesh. It’s oval shaped head with a large dent in it, where melted skin pools into a thick viscous liquid, almost like a broken egg. The creature has one large, open eye staring back at me, while their other eye rests floating in the small pond of melted flesh that lays on their dented head. They rest their long, lanky arms to their sides, as sharp claws mark the bottom of their hands. The creature’s jaw remains constantly unhinged, revealing two tongues, one that lays in the back of the mouth, and one that hangs loose like a strand of cloth from their mouth. Standing there with two legs and a short, stubby tail, the creature stares back at me. Its labored breathing echos through the small room, only being drowned out by the beating of my own heart. The creature stands in my only means of exit, and I am trapped within this room. It just stands there. I think to myself that if I haven’t moved, maybe it hasn’t noticed me, maybe it’s just in here looking for something else. But that’s a lie, the creature has been looking straight into my eyes for the past few minutes I’ve been standing here. It’s waiting for me to make the first move.

As I stand there, in the distance I hear the faint voice of Bulisma. “Elviyan! Hey! Come out here, looks like there needs to be a brief change of plans!” The moment her voice rings out, the creature falters for a moment and twists their head backwards, slightly sloshing some of the liquid skin out of their head. And before I know it, before I can think, or wonder, or decide what to do, I charge into it with my horns head first. My curved left horn slams into the creatures abdomen and goes through really easy, almost as if I was tearing into an unskinned fruit. I twist my head to gore into it harder, as it lets out a hellish high pitched scream. The creature unsure of what to do, starts to flail around for a moment, attempting to unlodge me from its torso. Its claws slash deep into my back, sending blood all down my spine and neck, but I do not falter, I start to run while holding the creature in a hug, and slam it straight into a wall. Its head makes a loud cracking noise as it screams even louder than before.  I use all my strength to pull back from the creature, removing my horns from its body. When I removed myself from it, a thick, black liquid starts to spray all over me and my bag, drenching me almost entirely. It starts to collapse to the ground, screaming, slowly as if the being was deflating entirely. I don’t stick around to watch the spectacle, I’ve risked enough, I’ve done enough down here. I sprint out the doorway and start to make my way out of the small building into the mall’s plaza. I look around frantically and spot Bulisma on the lower floor in the center, she notices me and waves. I wave back impulsively. “Hey! There you are! Did you find Selvanson?” I raise the black box into the air. “OK! Awesome!! Now for the bad news…”, she glides up to the floor I’m on and points to the area we came down. I look over and notice right away that the ladder we have climbed down is now destroyed, it lay a wreck on the ground, crushed by larger boulders. Bulisma looks at me cautiously, “Did you feel the quake earlier? It looks like th-” she stops as she notices I’m covered in the black fluid from the Melted. “H-Hey wait...are you-” I stammer at her, “It’s OK, we can’t worry right now. How are we getting out.” She gulps and nods, “Well...I had a plan where I can glide up to the strip a little above us and get a rope down, then you can climb up it from the outside, simple as that…” I nod at her, “Great, set that up and I’ll follow suit right away. Stay safe and lets make this quick, OK?” She smiles and nods back at me, “O-OK! Thank you!” The thank you for a moment shocked me. Without realizing, I told her to stay safe. That’s when I realized it, I’ve never felt like this before, never in my life did I feel hopeful like this and have a strive to do something. The materials I’ve collected might help people, they might make this world a better place. Its small, but by getting out of here, not only have I completed my mission in saving Selvanson, I might’ve saved more for all I know. This is a drive I never expected. This is the will to continue. Bulisma quickly jogs out the nearest window to the outside and takes flight, heading downwards to gain speed and then quickly shooting back up, I lose sight of her for a brief moment and stand their waiting. My heart is pounding, my muscles are tense, I can’t even feel the injury from earlier from when I fell onto the cabinet or when the creature slashed at me, adrenaline runs through my veins. I couldn’t ever tell her, ever let her know, but the truth is I didn’t enter this tower of Selvanson. I never entered it to save him, or for any personal gain for that matter. I entered the tower with no intention of leaving, no intention of returning to that dull, motionless life above. I would come down here and not come back out, however I perished I would have accepted. I was just going to find a room and starve, maybe even speedup the process in some way if I needed. But things have changed now. Things are different. Something has clicked in me, I don’t know what but the voice in my head has swayed me. My mother’s words have driven me to where I am now and I refuse to suffer the same fate as her. I’m going to bring back what I collected, and I’m going to try to change for the better. Nothing can stop me. Nothing will stop me. There is hope. To double check and make sure I didn’t make a mistake, I grab for my bag once again to check what I’ve collected, the paper document and the small empty bottle with a label. Both are drenched in the black liquid from before, it looks like my bag didn’t do much to protect the objects from that aspect, but both remain undamaged. Thank goodness. I pick up the paper to make sure the liquid doesn’t make it tear easier or make it unusable. But that’s when I notice something. The areas where the black liquid cover, I can read.

I can read what sections of the documents say.

EMERGENCY MEMO

PROCESS TO FACILITATE EARTH UNSUCCESSFUL. AFTER MANY MONTHS OF DISCUSSION WITH THE U.N. AND OTHER SERVICES, EFFORTS TO REBUILD THE EARTH HAVE BEEN LEAD TO BE UNSUCCESSFUL. IF YOU ARE RECEIVING THIS MEMO, YOU ARE EITHER A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL OR ASSOCIATED WITH ONE IN SOME FORM. PLEASE FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS BELOW IMMEDIATELY.

HUMAN LIFE ON EARTH HAS BECOME UNSUSTAINABLE AFTER THE IMPACT OF PTE-85220, AND THE CHAINS THAT BIND THE REMAINING PIECES OF THE PLANET WE HAVE ALWAYS KNOWN AND LOVED CANNOT SUSTAIN THIS PLANET. BECAUSE OF THIS WITHIN THE YEAR, THE PLANET WILL DRIFT AWAY INTO SPACE. OUR EFFORTS HAVE FAILED.

HOWEVER, THE PROCESS TO PRESERVE THE HUMAN RACE WILL STILL REMAIN. WE AS A SPECIES WILL NOT DIE OUT, FAR FROM IT. SPANNING THE EXACT DISTANCE OF THE ORIGINAL EARTH, SCIENTISTS HAVE BEEN HARD AT WORK TO CREATE THE BABEL PROJECT, AN ARTIFICIAL CELESTIAL BODY WHERE PLANT LIFE AND WATER WILL CONTINUE TO GROW UNTIL IT A SUSTAINABLE ENVIRONMENT IS CREATED. A FALSE, ARTIFICIAL SPECIES WILL INHABIT SAID ENVIRONMENT AND CULTIVATE IT FOR YEARS TO COME, UNTIL ITS RESOURCES SHALL RUN OUT.

PLEASE READ CAREFULLY

YOUR JOB AS A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL NOW IS TO PREPARE YOUR PATIENTS OR THOSE WITHIN YOUR AREA FOR THE CRYOSTASIS PROGRAM. THE PROGRAM WILL ACT AS A WAY TO PRESERVE THE BODY AND SOUL, AND KEEP US ALIVE UNTIL WE MAY RECLAIM THE LAND THROUGH THE BABEL PROJECT. A LARGE TOWER OF ICE THAT CAN NEVER MELT WILL BE SET WITHIN THE CENTER OF THE TOWER, WHERE OUR BODIES WILL BE PRESERVED. THERE IS A 0.09% CHANCE OF THE ICE SYSTEM MELTING, HOWEVER, BUT DO NOT LET THESE NUMBERS FRIGHTEN YOU. WE, AS ONE OF THE GREATEST AND STRONGEST SPECIES TO GRACE THIS REALM WILL NOT FALTER. BY CREATING AN ARTIFICIAL SPECIES TO REPOPULATE AND ATTEMPT TO CULTIVATE THE EARTH, WE WILL BE SAFE WITH THE BABEL PROJECT. AND THE SPECIES WILL SIMPLY DIE OUT AFTER 127 YEARS, AND THE TIME COMES FOR US TO RISE AGAIN.

PLEASE PREPARE ALL PATIENTS FOR FREEZING EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, AND ENSURE THAT ALL INFORMATION IS SENT TO YOUR GOVERNMENT. THERE IS STILL HOPE FOR THE PEOPLE OF TOMORROW. WE, THE HUMANS OF EARTH, WILL SURVIVE UNTIL THE ENDS OF TIME. GOD BLESS YOU, AND WHAT YOU WILL DO FOR YOUR PEOPLE.

I stare at the page. I stare at all the information that was just given, everything that has been said. I feel for a moment I can’t breathe. For a moment, I don’t feel my body. I look up to the center, and stare at the spire of water that lies in the center of the plaza. And for a brief moment, I realize this is not how it was supposed to be. None of this is. Is this the truth? Is this what is really happening, what lays before us as a species? Are we just a byproduct of a convoluted plan, to wipe ourselves out eventually for a species that doesn’t exist anymore? My body stands there heavy, almost as if the weight of the entire Tower lays upon my shoulders. My eyes dilate and things feel as if they are getting fuzzy around me, as if this is a dream and I’m just in bed, all my actions from just signals in my brain, not a moving body. I look outside the archway that stands before me, beholding the empty sky that stretches forward into infinity. The sun resting on the strip that stretches above me, almost as if peeking from behind it. Is that fake too? Is the sun real? And if that’s not, am I? Is anyone, what does any of this mean? As I stare at, a single rubbery rope drops down from said strip, I hear a shout from above. “Grab on, hurry! Climb on up, we’re almost there pal!” Bulisma’s cheery voice grounds me for a moment. She doesn’t know. No one knows. I climb onto the rope. Bulisma lets out a small sigh, “I’m glad you’re on! Now come on, I’ll hold this rock I tied it to down!” She can’t see me, yet she has confidence I’m there. Is it my weight from holding onto the rope, or is she just certain? How can she be so certain in the first place? I don’t get it. The cold wind brushes onto me, as the sun from above shines on me like a spotlight, casting my shadow against the Tower’s exterior. What happens when I get up? Do I show her, or tell her? Do I keep it a secret? What’s the point anyway, we’re all going to die out, there’s going to be nothing left of us, that was the plan. Why stay here for the inevitable, suffering every day just to watch the same things wash over me again and again and again. There’s nothing here for us. There never was. And there never will be. I let go of the rope. I fall. The air around me winds through my ears. My clothes cling tight onto my body as they are pushed upwards from the air. Gravity drags me down. I close my eyes and smile. I feel heavier than I ever have. And yet free. Free. Free. I feel myself land. It’s not heavy, and it doesn’t hurt, it feels soft, and as if I’m still flying. Is this what it feels like to pass, to feel like I’m soaring? But I reach my hands down, and feel a fuzzy warmth. There’s something I’m sitting on. I open my eyes, and find myself right above another rim. I look down and notice I am on Bulisma’s back. I’m alive. Bulisma is shouting at me, saying something, but my brain processes nothing. Tears seem to fly from the sides of her head, being lost to the quick winds we go through as we glide slowly down to the rim below. Eventually, she lands and I step off of her. She shakily, stands up from a crouch, and looks straight at me. She’s sobbing. She’s bawling and can’t stop crying. And before I can say anything at all, she walks over to me, slaps me hard across the face, tears still in her eyes. The impact wakes me up. I’m still here. I still exist. She clenches her fists again, but then goes in to hug me hard. “I’m so glad you’re safe! P-Please! Please be more careful next time!” Does she know what happened? Does she know I let go, not that I fell off on accident? I can’t lie to her anymore. I can’t do this. Since I’ve met her, she’s been like this, always so caring even though we barely knew each other. But maybe it’s now time I opened up. It’s the least I can do on this dying earth. I push her away, and look straight at her, “I let go”, I tell her. “I let go of the rope.” And pass her the paper I read from the tower, she stares at me for a moment in confusion, tears still welling up. “There’s no point in this. Read it.” 

It takes her a moment to read it over, but as her eyes scan it and descend, she starts to understand and grip the paper harder. Her trunk slightly scrunches up again. Then, she looks up and looks at me. I solemnly nod at her and close my eyes again. But she does something I don’t expect, she laughs and comes over to hug me again. I open my eyes again confused and push her away. “Why are you laughing? Didn’t you read what it said? Our resources are finite, we’re at the end of our rope, there’s no h-” She laughs again. She looks at me with tears still in her eyes, but this time with a smile. “Elviyan, don’t you get it? This is huge!” I stand there confused, almost angry. Does she just care about this because it’s another stupid relic from The Ancestors, or “humans” as they referred to themselves? “This is proof that we can survive!” She hugs me again….what? What does she mean? I look at her with strong intent, “The document...says that our resources are finite. The humans had us here to briefly cultivate the land and then die. What about this means we can do anything but die out?” She chuckles again. “That’s exactly it! They were wrong!” She points to to the tower, “Remember how they said that they were supposed to be frozen? And that didn’t work out? What’s to say their plan to have us eventually wipe each other out will work either!” I stare blankly for a moment, and speak again. “But...there’s no point. You’ve seen my land, you’ve seen countless lands that just mirror the exact fate this document predicted, there isn’t hope. It’s over” She laughs again and looks at me, and just says one word. “Community”, she looks and smiles at me. “We are a community, and through a greater people, we can figure this out!” I look at her confused again and tilt my head. “Don’t you get it, Elvi? Even after the humans were wiped out, civilizations still persevered and grew! They said we were supposed to die out after 127 years, but our history has existed for almost 300 now!” I stand there, still confused. “Simply...it means while they might’ve suffered, they created a future for us! A future for the next generations! It means, even if the changes we make now and what we do today doesn’t always affect us, it could affect and help a greater tomorrow! Elvi, we’re here on this tower to create a better future for people like us!” She grabs my hands, “There’s hope for us after all!” I start to tear up. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do. We matter? What we do matters? I hug her back, and starts to shout and cry. I start to stand there, and believe that I can make a change. My mother was right, Bulisma is right, they were all right. The world was never dying, but in fact the world is growing, changing and rebuilding itself on the foundations of a broken past. I look around me to notice the green grass of this strip, the trees with fruits bore on its branches, the fresh smell of the air around us. We’re alive, and we’re going to keep living. Because we defied what we were created to become. That day I finally understood my mother’s words. To be satisfied with the way we live now normalizes the problems we can easily fix, a future must come from those in the present.

We will build a better present, for those in the future.