#all these glowing eyes and winds just chillin........ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

razorblade180 · 6 years ago

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Dispute

[morning]

*mostly everybody just chillin*

Blake:Have you seen Yang? I checked her room and she’s not there.

Ruby:Nope, I’m pretty sure she’s out for a run or some-

*boom*

Weiss:.....What was that?

Ren:Souned like it came from outside.

Oscar*from outside* Guys come on, this isn’t like you!!!!

Nora:Oscar? *everyone running outside*

Ruby:Oscar what’s going.....on?

*Yang in the middle of the yard swinging at Jaune. He’s keeping his shield up and swinging back.*

Jaune:What’s wrong, beating me should be a piece of cake if I’m under your level.

Yang:Stop acting smug you little- ha! *going for a high kick*

*Jaune lifts it higher with his shield and sweeps her planted foot with his sword. She falls hard*

Jaune:Get up! *gaining distance* I’m not done beating you yet!

Yang:*growls before lunging at him*

*blake gets between them with her swords out to block*

Blake:Woah! This seems like more than just a little sparring match. What’s gotten into you to?

Yang:He needs to watch his mouth. *trying to get pass Blake*

Jaune:I can say the same for you.

Blake:*struggling to keep them apart*Oscar!?

Oscar:They were both trying to help me get better at fighting. They started of disagreeing with how I should use my cane. Then it spiraled into who was right based off experience.

Yang:All I said was you’re still lacking experience and I should know better.

Jaune:You said I’m not on anyone’s level and viable to just screw up.

Ruby:*furious* YANG!!

Yang:Don’t be like that; I’m right while he’s going for low blows.

Jaune:What, you upset because I said you’re not as good as you think you are? That maybe you should reconsider your own progress since you got taken down in one hit!?

*both closing distance*

Ruby:Jaune!!

Blake:Guys....my arms are getting.....tsk *moves out the way with a clone to escape their attacks* crap....

*both continue to fight*

Weiss:Alright both of you need to-

Nora:I wouldn’t bother; I think these two are gonna need to duke it out.

Ren:Let’s just moderate to be safe.

Weiss:You’re okay with Jaune losing to Yang like this?

Nora:Umm Yang is gonna get creamed. There’s no way she’s losing.

Blake:My arms tell me it’s anyone’s guess.

Ren:Jaune

Oscar:Yang; what do you think Ru-

Ruby:*just watching closely* I already know how this ends.

*Yang grabbing Jaune’s blade, snatching it has she sends him back with a kick*

Yang:Game over! *lunges with a right hook*

Weiss:Told you s-

Jaune:*grabs her punch and flips her over his body; slamming her on her back*

Yang:*wind leaving her body*

Ren:I taught him that.

Jaune:*retrieving sword* Can we finish this already? *changes sword*

Yang:*erupting in a pillar of fire* You brought this on yourself.

Jaune:*aura covers his entire body* likewise...

Ruby:*grabs her scythe* I swear these two.

Yang: Let’s get started! *Fires a volley of shot gun flares*

Jaune:(Here goes nothing) *knocking each flare back at her before vanishing at high speed*

Yang:Shit.....*bobs and weaves her own attack* alright, where did you- *blocks a sword coming right over head*

*shockwave pushes everyone back*

Jaune:*teeth gritted* I’m right here.

Yang:*arms going numb* I can see that... *pushes him off and dropkicks him*

Blake:Did....did he boost himself?

Ren and Nora: *shrugs* first I’ve seen it!

*a spectacle of yellow and white aura clashing in the yard glows brighter. Sparks flying off swords and metal arms alike*

Yang:*eyes getting redder* I’ll admit *left uppercut* you’ve gotten better.

Jaune:But I’m still not up to your level is that right? *mixing in slashes with thrusts*

Yang:Obviously *backflips then lunges forward with a straight punch; flames coming off it*

Jaune:*swings a glowing crocea mors*

“You’re through!!!!!”

*a tornado of rose petals sweeps them up and throws them apart*

Jaune:*crashes into a tree, breaking his aura* uuuugggghhh Ruby?

Yang:*cracks the ground with her fall, breaking her aura.* agh! What the hell?

Ruby:ENOUGH!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!!

*silence*

Ruby:*rubbing the bridge of her nose* Seriously, what is wrong with you two!!!? You both were both dangerously close to actually wounding each other; and for what!? You both know better.

Yang:Well maybe if-

Ruby:I don’t want to hear excuses Yang. You know what? Take a walk; leaders orders.

Yang:You can’t be seri-

Ruby:NOW.....*staring her down*

Yang:......tsk, whatever...*walks off to the back of the inn*

Ruby:Can you guys give us some space? I want to talk to Jaune alone.

*Everybody slowly walks inside concerned*

Jaune:*laying on his back*I take it this is the part you yell at me?

Ruby:I just.....why would you let Yang get under your skin like that!? Egging her on into a fight? That doesn’t sound like you; and then you brought up her arm?

Jaune:*biting his lip*.... I was fed up alright?

Ruby:Of her teasing? We know that’s how she is.

Jaune:I know but....*hits the ground* I don’t know of it was the way she said or her. Those words hit harder than usual; I know I’ve made improvements but she made me feel...

Ruby:Like you’re stuck in place? That’s why you challenged her;

Jaune:I lost my cool; I’m sorry.*staring at the sky* You’re probably still pissed at me though.

Ruby:I’m a little less *sits down* regardless, as a leader you can’t lose your cool like that; I know you know that.

Jaune:.....

Ruby:*kisses his forehead* And as someone who’s very important to me, I would really appreciate you getting along with my sister. I don’t like seeing either of you like that in a sparring match.

Jaune:*sigh* I’m sorry Ruby.....

Ruby:I’m not the one who needs that apology the most. Don’t get me wrong you’re still in the doghouse but right now there’s another hothead I need to chat with. *leaving*

Jaune:Good luck.

Ruby:Don’t need it; before I forget. Just between us, you might have won that fight. You’re definitely not stuck in place. Just keep doing your best; I’ll support you like I always do. *walks away*

Jaune:......*smiles*

[backyard]

Yang:*sitting with her legs crossed*

Ruby:You know technically I said take a walk right?

Yang:You done yelling at vomit boy and now it’s my turn?

Ruby:Hopefully there won’t be any more yelling; I hate fighting with you. We’re sisters Yang.

Yang:Why does it feel like you’re about to take Jaune’s side on this?

Ruby:There is no sides Yang; you both are wrong.

Yang:But? I know there is one coming.

Ruby:*Sigh* But you were wrong first and you know that. Saying what you said to him was unwarranted. Everyone knows he’s trying.

Yang:He’s not just trying he’s....he’s striving. He’s been striving leaps and bounds. While I stumble....

Ruby:What.....?

Yang:Ever since I got back everyday has been a struggle to feel even a fraction of how I used to. Strong, courageous, ready to stand up to anything; I was thehard hitter everyone banked on. Now it always feels like I have to lean on others. Nora, You, Blake-

Ruby:Jaune?

Yang:.....It’s just, he’s catching up so fast. He’s.... helping in ways I used to. *closes her eyes* I said what I said because I was jealous. Then he called me out on the whole reason I felt like that in the first place.

Ruby:You fought him to still prove you’re better? That’s so-

“Stupid”

Jaune:*walking to them* Yang of course you’re better than me. You were back then and you are now. It’s a fact.

Yang:That body slam you did says otherwise.

Jaune:That’s one move.

Yang:It was your moves Jaune! I.....*clenching her fist* I could barely keep up the whole time. It was infuriating to me. Maybe you’re right; I’m just not as good as I always thought....

Jaune:You’re right, you’re better.

Ruby:?

Yang:What?

Jaune:I’ve only gotten this far because so many exceptional people have helped me along the way; including you. Any accomplishments I get is because of you all and the only reason it looks like I’m learning fast is because I’m starting from nothing.

Ruby:He’s right; you shouldn’t be comparing yourself to anyone here. We’re all at different stages in our development. Some take longer than others to overcome.

Jaune:I’m sorry I brought up your arm; it was wrong.

Yang:....It’s my fault *looks down* I’m the one who started acting like bully; I’m sorry.

Ruby:You guys can do better than that. Come on, hug it out you two.

.......

Ruby:*grabs both of them and hugs them* I’m not letting go until I feel the love.

*both of them eventually start hugging back*

Ruby:Promise me we won’t have to revisit this experience.

Yang and Jaune:We promises....

Ruby:Good! Now let’s go inside. If you want I can referee a clean match between you two tomorrow.

Jaune:I’m in no rush to get punched in the face.

Yang:Or stabbed in the shoulder. I didn’t know you knew Pyrrha’s stance. You use it too well. *rubs shoulder*

Ruby:Suit yourself; it’s no fun knowing how it will end anyways.

.......

Jaune:You’re saying you would know who would win if we fought tomorrow?

Yang:Care to enlighten us?

Ruby:*smiling* Wouldn’t you like to know?

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #nora valkryie #lie ren #oscar pine

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hysterialevi · 6 years ago

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When the Devil Cries pt. 16

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

From Arthur’s POV

CALIBAN’S SEAT, NEW HANOVER

Pain. Cold. Isolation.

These were the only things I could feel at the moment, and the only things that greeted me as I woke up in this rusty, old cabin.

I didn’t know where I was, or who had brought me here, but right now...all I cared about was gettin’ the hell out.

I had been in the hands of the enemy enough times to know when my life was in danger, and I definitely didn’t intend to get killed now. Especially not when Eddie was out there all by himself, and completely oblivious to what was happening.

I had to escape before whoever captured me found him too, and I needed to get him someplace safe.

...I just didn’t know where to start.

Struggling in my restraints, I tried wiggling around a bit, only to realize that I was hangin’ upside-down from a rickety ceiling and dangling in the middle of the room like a worm on a hook. I could hear distant voices chattering outside, and it seemed like I was bein’ held captive in some camp. That meant there was tons of people guarding me.

Shit.

I frantically glanced around the cabin, hurriedly searching for any possible way out. There wasn’t much fillin’ up the small building, and the only piece of furniture I could see was a slim table pushed up against one of the walls. It looked like there were a few tools laid out on its surface, but nothin’ sharp enough to cut me free. Besides, I was too far away from it to even attempt at grabbin’ one of them. Dammit. I’d have to find another solution.

Before I could start hatchin’ any ideas though, the flimsy door suddenly creaked open with a gentle thump as a gust of cold wind seeped through, chillin’ me to the bone.

The same man from before casually strolled inside as he lit a cigar, its soft orange glow barely lighting up his face in the dim atmosphere of the cabin as he approached me.

He gave me a toothy grin from behind the smoke, his cheek wrinkling due to the malicious smile.

“...Morning, sunshine.” He whispered.

I let out a pained groan in response, still a bit dazed from the bash to the head I received earlier.

“You again...?”

The man sighed apathetically. “I know...my face ain’t the most pleasant to wake up to. But show enough resistance, and soon,” he let out a puff of smoke, leaning closer to me, “...you’ll also be seein’ it in the mirror.”

I did my best to swerve away from my nameless captive, turning my head in the other direction.

“...Just get to the point,” I said. “What d’you want...?”

The man observed me for a second, tilting his head down at me as if I was some little kid.

“Answers, Mister Morgan. I want answers. And I hear...that you might have them.”

The rope dug even deeper into my ankles, causing me to let out a strained hiss.

“...Is that so?”

He smirked at me, his face now mere inches away from mine. “Well, I guess we’ll see...won’t we?”

The man took a few steps back and began nonchalantly pacing around the cabin, his one-eyed gaze never leaving me.

“...Does the name Theodore Bishop mean anythin’ to you?” He asked. “Or Eddie Ryan? He goes by both nowadays, more often the latter. You heard of him?”

I froze in shock.

Theodore Bishop? That was Eddie’s “old” name -- the identity we just spent the past month and a half tryin’ to run away from. If this man was askin’ him by that, that meant he was with Atticus Rose.

Shit. I couldn’t tell this bastard a single thing then, no matter how much pain he put me through. I had to keep Eddie safe.

I kept my lips shut tight and shook my head, pretending I didn’t know nothing about it.

“No.” I answered simply.

The man slowly removed the cigar from his lips, furrowing his brow in a skeptical manner.

“...You sure?”

He suddenly drilled the fiery tip of the cigar straight into my collarbone, causing me to let out an agonized yell as smoke rose from the blackened skin and a repulsive sizzling sound reached my ears.

My mind was shrieking at the moment. I couldn’t think through the excruciating pain, and the longer he kept the cigar in the place, the more I writhed and tensed up, powerless to do anything in my position.

He finally removed it after a minute, not even bothering to hide his amusement as his smile grew wider and I let out a deep, raspy breath of relief.

Goddamn this man. For his sake, I hoped I never broke free.

“Does that refresh your memory at all?” He questioned, throwing the cigar away.

I still refused to give in.

“...No.”

The man slipped his hands in his pockets. “You ain’t seen him?”

A frustrated sigh escaped me. “I don’t even know what he looks like...!”

“He’s a young man,” he described. “English. Black hair, green eyes. Works as a performer at the Râleur Theater in Saint Denis. You sure you haven’t seen him?”

I spoke through gritted teeth. “That’s what I said, ain’t it?”

His glare strengthened. “...It sure is.”

The man examined me for a while, his eye narrowing in thought as the gears turned in his head. I had to admit -- there weren’t many people out there who scared me, but this son-of-a-bitch goddamned terrified me.

There was just a certain air him that made me feel like I was playing a game. That all of this was solely for his personal amusement alone, and that he had only captured me so he could use me like some toy to be disposed of. But of course, he’d never say it. That would be too easy for this lunatic.

The man bent down slightly and took a closer look at me, his nose almost touching mine as he uttered one, final question.

“...You really have no idea who I’m talkin’ about, do you?”

He paused for a second, taking my stubborn silence as a confirmation.

“...Well then,” he finally said, backing off, “maybe you can take a good look at him for yourself...once he comes to rescue you.”

My heart began hammering in my chest at that, and the man chuckled at the sight of my horrified expression, his face plastered with a malevolent sense of entertainment.

He knew. This crazy bastard already knew where Eddie was.

This weren’t no interrogation. This was a goddamned trap.

And I was the bait.

The man sauntered away once he knew it had clicked in my head and made his way out the cabin, callin’ for his “associate” now that he was done toying with me as I was left to my own devices.

“Colm!” He barked, swinging the door open. “This fool’s all yours. Do what you want with him -- I don’t care. Just make sure you don’t kill him. In the meantime, I’ll keep watch. I’m sure Mister Bishop will be showin’ up soon, and we wouldn’t wanna disappoint him...” the man grinned at me, “would we?”

Colm wandered inside along with a few other O’Driscolls, all of them cracking their knuckles and preparing for a fight. Only -- I wasn’t gonna be able to fight back.

My captive slithered through the doorway and glanced over his shoulder, saying one, last thing to me as his coat billowed in the powerful wind.

“Consider this retribution, Mister Morgan...for what you did to my assassins. And to Thatcher Middleton.”

From Eddie’s POV

CALIBAN’S SEAT

Sneaking around the camp under the pouring rain, I hurried my way behind one of the multiple shacks around the area, trying my absolute best to stay out of sight whilst I searched for Arthur.

There were loads of men guarding this place. Some of them appeared to be part of Rose’s gang, whilst the others were with someone else named Colm O’Driscoll. I didn’t know too much about him, or what his business here was, but based on what I’d heard his people say, there was some sort of feud between him and Dutch Van der Linde: Arthur’s boss.

That would explain why they helped Rodrick capture him.

As for Rodrick himself however, I had yet to see the bastard anywhere. Neither him nor Atticus were in sight, and there weren’t any clues suggesting to their presence at the camp. Though, I had no doubts Rodrick was watching me from afar, just waiting to take his shot whilst I scurried around like a mouse.

I’d have to hurry if I wanted to save Arthur. There was no mercy when it came to Atticus and his gang, and I could only imagine what they had in mind for him.

I just prayed I had the strength to rescue him.

Slipping away just as two O’Driscolls came in my direction, I took cover behind a nearby wall and flattened myself against the wood, eavesdropping on their conversation as they passed by.

“I can’t believe they finally caught the fucker,” one of them said. “Seems like ages we’ve been after the Van der Lindes.”

The other wasn’t so enthusiastic. “I dunno, man.”

The first man shrugged. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, it’s just...” he lowered his voice, “what if the boy doesn’t come alone? Bishop, or whatever his name is. What if he brings help? ...What if he gets Dutch? You know that man’ll raise hell if he learns we’ve taken Arthur.”

His friend rolled his eyes. “That’s the reason Colm teamed up with Kingsley, dumbass. So if he does bring help, we’ll have enough men to fend ‘em off. But I wouldn’t worry too much. Apparently, this boy ain’t even part o’ the gang. Just some kid who plays the piano for a living. Now, shut up and go keep watch. Rodrick thinks the boy’ll be here soon.”

The second man gave in, throwing his arms up out of defeat.

“Alright, fine. But you’re joining me later.”

Walking off, the O’Driscoll disappeared in the distance whilst his friend stayed in place, taking shelter from the heavy rain inside the shack I was hiding behind. Maybe now would be my chance to get some answers.

Pulling out my knife, I crouched down and snuck through the back door of the building, slightly pushing it ajar before completely creeping in.

The O’Driscoll was currently by himself, and had his back turned to me as he rearranged some of the supplies stored in here, including crates of dynamite, rifles, gun oil, and even moonshine. I guessed this was the shack where they kept all their valuables.

Waiting for the O’Driscoll to conclude his business, I tiptoed behind him after he finished stacking some boxes and swiftly wrapped a restrictive arm around his neck, covering his mouth before aiming the knife directly at his throat.

The man struggled for a moment, only to cease his movement when he noticed the blade threatening to slice him open.

“...Where is he?” I growled.

He blurted out a response. “W-What? Who...?!”

“The Van der Linde. Where are you keeping him?”

The man only stuttered more. “I-I dunno! I didn’t bring him here! He’s probably in one of the shacks!”

I clenched my jaw in annoyance. “Which one?”

“I really don’t know! M-Maybe in the cabin to the north of the camp? That’s where Colm usually takes most of our prisoners! Th-That’s all I know! I swear! Who the fuck even are you?!”

I tightened my hold on the knife, preparing to strike.

“Just some kid who plays the piano.”

Slamming the knife’s grip into his head, I knocked the O’Driscoll out and dragged his limp body behind a pile of crates, looting his double-barreled shotgun in the process. So far, no one else had detected me, and judging by the calm state of the camp, I assumed Arthur hadn’t attempted to escape yet. I still had some time to move, albeit not much. I’d have to think of something fast.

Interrupting my thoughts, the sudden sound of clamoring brought my attention to the shack’s tiny window, leading me to sneak over in order to see what was going on.

Just outside, I spotted Colm O’Driscoll and a handful of his men dragging a beaten Arthur to the center of the camp, probably hoping to use him as bait.

The man looked like he had been punched, burnt, cut, and I had no doubts he’d met Mister Kingsley already based on the multiple scars decorating his body.

I could feel my blood boiling. No matter how much he may have believed it, Arthur didn’t deserve this type of treatment. He was simply a good Samaritan who had been pulled into this mess because of me, and I was going to do everything within my power to make sure he got out of it.

I just didn’t know how. Originally, I had planned to slip Arthur out of the cabin they locked him in, but now he was in the middle of the camp. So not only was he out in the open, everyone could also see him. How the hell was I supposed to break him out now?

I desperately searched around the shack, hoping to find something I could use. I mean, I had a shotgun now, but that wasn’t going to anything against an entire gang. I needed something that could take out multiple people at once, and also keep their attention off Arthur in the process. If I gave them enough time to react, they’d kill him within a heartbeat. So whatever I did, it was going to have to take them by surprise.

My eyes suddenly landed on the crates of dynamite sitting in the corner, giving me an idea for a plan that I never thought I would have.

It was going to be tricky, and I’d have to be as quiet as a mouse, but if it meant Arthur could go back home...then it was worth it.

I forced myself to move away from my hiding spot, eager to get to work as I prepared my trap. Both Colm and Rodrick were going to regret ever putting Arthur’s life in danger -- but if things went according to plan today, they’d never attempt it again.

From Arthur’s POV

A LITTLE LATER

Throwing another punch at me, Colm pounded his fist against the bruises already growing on my skin as his men laughed in unison and I toppled into the muddy ground, only to be hoisted back up again into Colm’s grasp.

By now, my entire body was aching in severe pain, and the more these O’Driscolls beat me to a pulp, the less I believed I gonna survive the day.

Shit. What the hell was I gonna do?

No one in the gang knew where I was. Not Hosea, not Charles, and certainly not Dutch. As far as they was concerned, Eddie and I were still runnin’ around the country, hiding away from Atticus and his men. They had no idea that I’d been snatched by some maniac, and the only person I could think of who’d come to my rescue was the last man I wanted to put in danger.

Goddammit...if Eddie showed up, I was gonna shoot that boy myself. It was too dangerous for him to come here, and I definitely didn’t want him to share my fate.

Jabbing his knuckles into my ribs, Colm wrapped an arm around my neck and pulled out his gun, almost impaling the barrel straight through my temple as he leaned in close.

“Look at the big, bad wolf now!” He taunted with a rough cackle. “Not so tough now, are you...Mister Morgan? Oh, if only good ol’ Dutch could see you...! How mad that man would be!”

I struggled in his hold, gritting my teeth. “Let me go, Colm...! We both got bigger problems to worry ‘bout. Trust me. You ain’t doin’ yourself no favors getting involved with these folk. They’re just gonna kill you once they get what they want! ...If I don’t kill you first, that is.”

He chuckled at that. “You? ...Kill me? You can hardly stand on your own, big man! You ain’t gonna be doing much ‘cept for dying. And when that happens...” Colm whispered in my ear, “...I'mma be laughing.”

Before the O’Driscoll could torment me any further, a lone set of footsteps suddenly approached us from the front, interrupting our “conversation” and causing us to look ahead.

Marchin’ straight towards the center of the camp under the cold, heavy rain, I spotted none other than Eddie himself as he trudged through the thick mud, armed with a shotgun and ready to go to war.

Christ Almighty...! What the hell was that fool doin’ here?!

The boy raised his shotgun at Colm and inched closer towards him, gulping in anxiety as droplets of rain and sweat rolled down his forehead.

“L-Let him go, O’Driscoll!” He demanded, his tone filled with fear. Or was it? Part of me suspected Eddie was pretendin’ to be the same, innocent boy he was when we first met as a way to gain the upper hand. Smart kid.

Colm took the bait and pressed the gun deeper into my temple, cocking his head in a patronizing manner. “...And if I don’t?”

Eddie stammered, holding his ground. “...Or I’ll...I’ll shoot you!”

That only made Colm’s nasty smile stretch wider and he let out a raspy laugh, his men howling along with him.

“This...” he mocked, gesturing towards Eddie as he smirked at me, “...this...is your knight in shinin’ armor...?! Some lil’ lost soul come across the pond, searching for his one, true love?”

He wiped away fake tears from his eye and shook his head in disbelief, afterwards pulling down the hammer on his gun.

“Hoo, I never knew you was such a hopeless romantic, Morgan. But I guess that’s why you still runnin’ with Dutch, ain’t it? You lot is always chasin’ some nonexistent treasure on the other side o’ the world. ...Heh. Guess you finally found yours. Wonder what would happen...if I put a bullet in him?”

“Leave the boy outta this, Colm!” I shouted, growing progressively more restless. “He ain’t got nothin’ to do with this, or Dutch! He’s just a goddamn kid!”

Colm laughed wickedly, grinning in Eddie’s direction.

“So? Kids die as well as adults, I’ve heard. ...Mind if I test that theory?”

I turned to the pianist, practically begging him to leave.

“Eddie, listen to me. Get the hell outta here! NOW! It ain’t worth it...! Go back home! Forget about me!”

The O’Driscoll frowned playfully, pouting in a condescending manner.

“Aww, would ya look at that? The big brute ain’t so emotionless, after all. Never would’ve guessed you was sweet on boys, Morgan. But I suppose it makes sense, seein’ as how no woman’s dumb enough to have you.”

Eddie ignored the snickers from his men and simply strengthened his hold on the shotgun, steadily aiming the barrel straight at Colm while I desperately tried to get his attention.

“Don’t do it!” I yelled over the merciless wind as the other O’Driscolls pointed their weapons at the boy. But he wasn’t listening.

“Eddie!” I exclaimed again, spitting rain from my mouth. “Listen to me, goddammit! Put the gun down...and run!”

Colm firmly held the revolver to my head, his finger inching over its trigger as he glared at the pianist with a daring look in his eyes.

“Yes, Eddie...” he goaded. “Be a good boy, and run...”

I could hear the sharp clicks of the other O’Driscolls cocking their guns, every single one of us now on the other end of a barrel.

By now, we was all soaked head-to-toe in water -- dirty and shiverin’ in the wind -- and the more rain that flooded through the land, the more Colm merely saw it as a chance to wash away the bloodshed that was about to commence.

I shut my eyes and braced myself for the storm that was about to come, knowing damn-well there was nothin’ I could say or do that would change Eddie’s mind.

The boy readied his weapon and took a deep breath, preparing to fire.

He rested his finger on the trigger.

“I don’t run.”

Takin’ us all by surprise, Eddie suddenly diverted his line of fire and shot through the window of a nearby shack, causing the entire building to explode into a thousand pieces as the impact shook the ground.

“What the hell?!” Colm blurted out, completely forgettin’ I was even there as he tried to keep his balance. But it weren’t over just yet.

Snaking its way across the grass, the fire followed a trail of oil that led it directly towards the next cabin, instantly igniting the dynamite that had been placed in that one as well as a distant sizzling sound reached our ears.

The cabin erupted into a colossal mass of flames with a thunderous boom, the chaos frightening the gang’s horses as they broke free from their hitching posts and galloped frantically all over the camp, trampling over O’Driscolls left and right.

“HOLY SHIT!” One of them screamed, watching helplessly as the rest of the camp was consumed by fire.

One after another, each of the cabins blew up in a line of explosions, the force sending shards of glass and broken splinters flyin’ all over the place while Colm’s men desperately tried to escape the mayhem, running around like headless chickens as they patted out the fire catching onto their clothes.

And as if that weren’t enough, Eddie used the remaining shell in his shotgun to blast away the O’Driscolls surrounding me, afterwards throwing the empty weapon away and whipping out his own revolvers before gunning down any survivors.

He fired a bullet into Colm’s arm, forcing the man to let me go as I slammed an elbow into his face, sending him straight into an unconscious state.

Eddie guided me to cover, giving me one of his revolvers while the two of us battled any remaining O’Driscolls.

“You’re outta your goddamn mind!” I exclaimed, diving behind a nearby wagon.

The pianist hid behind a tree, peeking out every once in a while to shoot down enemies as oncoming bullets grazed the side of the trunk.

“Maybe, but I’m alive.” Eddie reached over and allowed me to lean on him, sporadically firing behind us as he led me to his horse.

“Come on!” He urged, noticing my struggle. “Bullet’s not far from here. We can escape!”

I glanced back what looked like Hell’s gate raging in the middle of the camp, pushing myself to keep going.

“Oh, believe me...I have no intentions on staying...!”

Hauling me away from the battlefield, Eddie practically dragged me to his horse who was waiting just in the outskirts the camp, both of us growing more and more panicked as Colm’s men began to chase us.

Bullet neighed out of fear, only managing to stay somewhat calm due to the pianist’s presence as he helped me up.

“Oh, it’s good to see you, boy.” I greeted the regal animal, trying my best not to pass out while Eddie mounted up.

The musician took hold of the reins, not even bothering to look back before whipping them and commanding Bullet to gallop away from the scene.

“Hold on, we’re almost out of here!” He assured me.

Bolting across the Heartlands with the speed of lightning, Eddie and I ducked and swerved to avoid the numerous shots being fired at us as we sprinted through the relentless rain, digging up clumps of grass with how fast we was riding.

By now, there was probably a dozen O’Driscolls hunting us down, and if we didn’t find someplace to hide soon, they would catch up to us, too.

I shot a few sloppy bullets at them, unable to aim as well as usual as Eddie approached a railroad in the distance.

Even in my delirious state, I couldn’t help but notice the train that was powerin’ its way over the tracks, a bit too close for comfort. It looked like it would be long past us by the time we reached the railroad, and I didn’t much like our chances of makin’ it across...but of course, that didn’t stop Eddie.

I pointed to the train, alerting the boy.

“Eddie...! Up ahead!”

He soldiered on. “I see it. We have to beat the train if we want to get rid of these bastards!”

I darted my eyes around in a panicked manner, searching for another solution.

“You sure we can’t just shoot ‘em?!”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m out of ammo, and we don’t have enough left to take down that many men. That train is our only way out of here.”

I pulled the hammer down on my revolver, making the best of my last few shots.

“Aw, hell...!”

Rushing towards the tracks, Eddie snapped the reins with a sense of urgency as the train’s whistle blared in the distance, echoing throughout the entire area while Bullet raced as fast as he could. The O’Driscolls were slowly but surely gainin’ on us, and with every step we took, it seemed like they took two more. We would have to move a lot quicker than this if we had any hope of escaping.

Pushing his horse to pick up the pace, Eddie and I held our breaths as we approached the railroad, neither of us takin’ our eyes off the other side.

We couldn’t fall back now, and we definitely couldn’t let that goddamned train run us over. We had to get the hell outta here, and we had to reach safety. Makin’ it across was our only option.

Nearly leaping over the tracks, Eddie threw the three of us to the other side as the train practically grazed my back, barreling right in front of the O’Driscolls and preventing them from going any further while we rode to freedom.

There didn’t seem to be anymore enemies in sight, and judging by the lack of gunfire, I assumed they had given up in their pursuit.

We had escaped.

Finally slowing down to a halt once we were alone, Eddie and I took a moment to catch our breaths as we rested in the middle of nowhere, wonderin’ where the hell to go from here.

We couldn’t return to Saint Denis. That was where Colm and that other lunatic cornered me in the first place -- and Eddie too, no doubt. It was no longer safe for the boy to stay there, and I sure as hell had no plans to go back to that god-awful city anytime soon.

I just didn’t know what other choices we had.

Turning around in his saddle, Eddie gently brought his hands to my face and lifted my chin, staring intently into my eyes as he examined my wounds.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice quiet due to distress, “Arthur, are you okay?”

I let out a strained groan, finding comfort in Eddie’s soft grasp.

“...You damn fool...!” I scolded. “...What the hell was you thinking? Comin’ after me like that. You coulda--” a sting of pain flashed throughout me, causing me to hiss. “You coulda gotten killed...!”

The boy ran his fingers through my hair, attempting to soothe me.

“You didn’t really expect me to just leave you behind, did you?”

I clutched my ribs, still sore from the beating Colm gave me. “No...and that’s why I was worried.”

Eddie caressed my cheeks, forcing me to look at him.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” he apologized, “but I’ve saved myself enough times. When Atticus killed my father, I ran. When he sent Thatcher to kill my mother, I ran. And when my sister cried for help after she had been cornered by an assassin...” Eddie’s voice faltered, “...I ran.”

He regained composure, bringing his gaze back to me as he held back the tears that threatened to spill.

“I wasn’t going to run from you. And I’ll never run from anything again.”

I sighed at that, secretly admiring his determination but also afraid it would put him in danger again.

“You’ve certainly got some stones, Eddie...” I breathed out, barely able to speak coherently, “but sometimes, you gotta run. Whether you like it or not. You hear me...?”

Eddie nodded, though a bit reluctantly. “I hear you. Speaking of running though, where do we go from here? I can’t take you to Saint Denis. That’s where Rodrick found me. He left a note on my doorstep. Underneath your own hat, no less.”

The pianist reached into his saddlebag and pulled out my hat, returning it to me.

I took the accessory in hand, giving him a puzzled look. “Rodrick? Who’s that?”

“Rodrick Kingsley. He works for Atticus. That man is absolutely insane, Arthur. He relishes pain, and I’m sure you must’ve encountered him at least once during your stay at Colm’s camp.”

A bitter taste filled my mouth at the sound of his name. “Feller with the red hair and scar over his eye?”

“That’s him.” He confirmed. “But my question remains: do you have any idea where we could hide for the time being?”

I weighed our options, thinkin’ about any areas that would be secluded enough for us to stay.

I didn’t wanna camp out in the wilderness by ourselves again. After all, we had just seen how many men Atticus had at his disposal, and the last thing I wanted was to be ambushed out there when we was alone like at the Kamassa. The ideal location would be somewhere with a decent amount of people around us.

But...that would narrow it down to only one possibility.

Shit. I guessed we had no other choice.

Peering at the mountains over my shoulder, I squinted my eyes in the sun and pointed towards the southeast, informin’ Eddie on where to go.

“There’s only one place I can think of that’ll be relatively safe for us,” I explained. “But it ain’t gonna be easy gettin’ you in there.”

The pianist quirked a brow. “Why’s that?”

I hesitated before telling him, feelin’ like an absolute moron for giving away our hideout like this. It was a risky move, and the whole gang would probably end up tannin’ my hide for this, but there was nowhere else we could turn to.

I decided to go with it.

“It’s...it’s where the rest of my gang is holed up,” I explained. “It’s where Dutch is. A place...called Shady Belle.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #arthur morgan x male oc #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

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littlewhitetie · 7 years ago

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Silence: Part One

An anti-Galra nanoweapon leaves Keith ill and Shiro badly injured. It's up to Lance and Allura to find them, take care of them, and get them home safe and sound.

(Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | AO3)

“Lance? Will you tell me a story?”

It’s a simple enough request, but Lance seems confused by it. He raises a thin eyebrow as he casts Allura a sidelong glance. “Uh, sure. What about?”

“Anything,” Allura says. “I just… can’t stand this silence.”

The cave is too quiet, nothing but the occasional crunch of crystals beneath their feet echoing through the tunnels. Her head is too quiet, the usual presence of the Lions muted by the strange walls. Worse than all that, though, is the dead silence over the comms. No word from Keith or Shiro; no way of tracking them down. They could be anywhere in here.

“Yeah,” Lance says. “I know what you mean. So, a story. How ‘bout this. Once upon a time, there was a really cool space princess, who had a knight. Well, she had five knights, but one of them was especially awesome. He was brave, and strong, and smart, and popular, and really, really good-looking.”

“Was her knight named Shiro?” Allura asks, with a teasing smile.

“What? No! It was Lan— …do. His name was Lando.”

“What a terrible name,” she says.

“Yeah, I regret it already, but too late now. So Lando and Princess… uh... Allana? Yeah, Princess Allana, along with two of her other, less attractive knights, were—“

“What were the others’ names?” she interrupts.

“Uh… Keef and… Shoro.”

Allura laughs aloud at that.

“Hey. It’s not their fault the person who named them had to do it on the spot,” he says, defensively. “So, yeah, Allana, Lando, Keef, and Shoro were chillin’ in their space castle out in space, while their friends were busy on some super boring tech mission in another galaxy. Suddenly, they received a distress signal from the, uh…” he pauses, scrunching up his face as he tries to think of a name. “Screw it, they’re just gonna stay the Ferexians.

“Ferexis had been hit by this really bad pandemic that had infected thousands of people in, like, a week. There was a cure, but the ingredients for the medicine were super hard to get, and the Ferexians weren’t in any shape to get it. So Allana, Lando, Keef, and Shoro went to go find the ingredients for them. Allana and Lando—who was clearly her favourite knight—went to the mountains south of the capital to gather serafi roots, while Keef and Shoro went north to find the atraxeth flowers that grew in the crystal caves.”

“How can you be certain Keef or Shoro were not her favourite?” she asks, her lips curving upward.

“Uh, ‘cause those other guys were boring, obviously,” he says. “So Allana was super happy she got to be paired up with the best knight ever, and she had an awesome time ‘cause Lando was so handsome and witty and smart. It took a while, but Allana and Lando eventually found the roots they were looking for. No problem.

“But while they were out, something bad happened. There was a terrible empire that had enslaved most of the universe, and Ferexis was the empire’s main supplier of one of the components needed for the ion cannon things on their ships.”

“What was the empire called?” she asks.

Lance groans. “Do I have to name everything?”

She nods.

“Fine. It was the Glara Empire. Happy?”

“Very,” she says.

Lance huffs. “Okay. So while our dashing heroes were off getting the ingredients, the Glara dropped by Ferexis to collect their ion cannon stuff. The Ferexians didn’t have it, but they’d prepared for this day. They unleashed a really terrible nanoweapon into the atmosphere that would infect the Glara and mess with their tech all at once.

“Allana and Lando didn’t find out about this until vargas later, when they came back to the city with the roots. When they got back, there were broken sentries all over. The sentries weren’t just shut down, they were, like, twitching, or—or fried. And there were… there were soldiers on the ground… sick, a-and convulsing, and dying…” His breath hitches.

“That is enough detail,” she says, tersely. She tries to ignore the prickling sensation behind her eyelids, wishing she could scour away the image burned into her mind. “Please move on with the story.”

“Y-yeah. Right. Um, well, Keef and Shoro could've been affected by the anti-Glara weapon, too. They hadn’t come back yet, so Allana and Lando went into the cave to find them. Allana and Lando couldn’t hear them over the comms, though that was definitely, definitely only ‘cause something in the cave was messing with their comm system. But it meant they didn’t have any idea where Keef and Shoro were. Lando and Allana walked for vargas and vargas and still didn’t see them.”

“So what happened next?” Allura asks.

“Next, Allana had to decide which way to go, ‘cause they’d reached another fork in the path,” he says.

Allura’s heart sinks as her eyes follow the path below their feet, finding the notch where it diverges. There are no signs of which way Keith and Shiro would have gone—if they’d even chosen this route in the first place. The odds of finding them along this route are already terrifyingly slim, and now the chances of finding them have been halved yet again.

The place is a maze. The winding cave is made all the more confusing by its reflective surfaces and too many light sources; crystals upon crystals in pink and blue and violet surround them, shiny and glowing. A ‘funhouse’, Lance had called it when they’d first entered, but this is hardly fun.

“She chose to go right,” she says, with a sigh. “Please tell me Lando and Allana found Keef and Shoro in time.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, totally,” Lance says. “It didn’t take much longer, and they found them, and Keef and Shoro were a hundred percent fine. They didn’t actually need rescuing; they were completely safe. They were just, like, caught up in finding the flowers, or taking a long nap, or playing patty-cake, or something. They were happy to see Lando and Allana anyway, and they were all—” Lance raises his voice an octave, “Oh, Lando, you’re so amazing and talented! If only we could be as cool as you are!”

Her lips turn up. “Did they really sound like that?”

“Yes. So Allana, Lando, Shoro, and Keef got back to the city no problem. They got the ingredients to the Ferexians and saved everyone. The Ferexians were super grateful and threw the heroes a parade—”

“A parade? Would they not still be recovering?”

“It was a small parade. Everyone had a good time, and then they all went back to the castle and took a nap. The end.”

She gives him a smile. “Thank you for the story. It was perhaps not particularly imaginative, but I did enjoy the ending.”

“Yeah. …Maybe I should’ve changed up the plot. It would’ve been better if Lando had just gone with Keef, like he was supposed to in the first place.”

“Well, Allana did not object to the proposed change in plans,” she says. Far from it. Allura loved Shiro and Keith dearly, but Lance… Lance knew how to make her smile.

A low, throaty roar echoes through the cave. She stiffens and grabs Lance’s wrist, yanking him backward.

He furrows his brow in confusion. “What is it?”

“Did you not hear that?”

“No, but my hideous human ears are inferior to yours,” he says.

“They are… charming," she offers. "It sounded like some sort of creature. I think it may be behind us—we must proceed with caution. I can guard the rear.”

“Alright."

Several tense doboshes pass, the heavy plod of footsteps and occasional growls getting progressively louder.

Finally, a large, blue creature comes into sight. It looks like a monstrous crossbreed between a crocodile and a xznly sqiwl. It’s armoured in thick, shiny scales. Its fangs are visible from the outside, too many sharp teeth hanging out of its broad mouth.

She pushes Lance out of the way, and then she rushes at it.

“What—what are you doing?” he gapes.

“Distracting it for you,” she calls, veering away from him. She has to get its attention; she can’t let it get to Lance.

The beast kicks up loose crystals on the ground with its forefoot, stomping, and then it charges at her.

For such an enormous creature, it’s surprisingly fast. She manages to leap out of the way when it comes at her, tucking into a roll. But the blasts from Lance’s gun have no effect, unable to get past its plated hide. Dodging won’t be enough on her end.

She runs forward and, getting close enough, strikes it with her whip. It doesn’t hurt it, but it does make it very, very angry. It snaps its teeth at her. She nearly gags at the rank odour emanating from its fleshy mouth.

“Get back!” Lance yells.

“No! This is your chance,” she calls. “If I remain close enough, it will keep trying to bite me. Shoot it in the mouth when its jaws are open.”

“You’re out of your mind,” he says, but he doesn’t object.

She lashes the monster with her whip again, this time aiming for its face. It rears on its hind legs before lurching forward, mouth gaping open, rows and rows of pointed teeth exposed. “Now!”

Lance takes several shots in rapid succession. He hits his mark, the blasts aimed perfectly between its sets of teeth to find the back of its vulnerable throat.

With a hideous screech, the beast collapses. The smell of burnt, putrid flesh penetrates her nostrils.

“Ew,” he says. “So. Gross.”

“It is rather disgusting,” she says, wrinkling her nose. When she’s certain it won’t get back up, she turns to Lance and gives him a grin. “Great job. I knew you could do it.”

The smile he returns isn’t the usual beam he wears when he receives praise. “Thanks. But… Keith and Shiro. Would—would they have been able to…” He trails off. It would have been difficult for the two of them to defeat it even in top form, given their close range weapons and the beast’s natural armour and teeth. As they are now…

“We have been in here for several vargas, and this is the first we’ve seen of these,” she says. “There can’t be many in here. They may not have encountered any at all.”

“Okay, but still,” he says, “we’ve seen, like, ten of those giant snake things.”

“Eight at most,” she says. “And those would not be so difficult for Keith to take care of with his sword.”

“If he can use his sword. If he can even move,” he says. “You saw those Galra soldiers.”

“Keith is only half Galra,” she says. “I am certain his symptoms are not nearly as bad.” She reaches for Lance’s arm and begins walking again, pulling him along. “Keith and Shiro are strong. They always manage to pull through. We will find them, and we will bring them home, safe and sound.”

Lance gives her a slight smile. “How do you do that? Manage to sound so confident, when things get bad. Know how to inspire hope, and stuff.”

“Surely you know the answer,” she says. “After all, you do the same for me.”

He brightens at that. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we’ve got each other, then.”

She smiles. “Absolutely.”

…

As they continue walking, Lance fills the silence with commentary on their surroundings. Apparently, there are no caves like this on Earth. They’re way more boring; the rock is always drab brown or grey, and they’re really dark. Sometimes, though, there are things that glow in the caves, like mushrooms or weird worm things that hang from the ceiling—at least, according to a documentary he saw. He’s never actually seen them in person.

There are a lot of things on Earth he hasn’t seen. Most humans, it seems, haven’t explored everything their planet has to offer. Allura can barely fathom the notion, but for a race that had never even travelled outside their own solar system before, it’s not all that unexpected.

When they reach a small pool of water, Lance runs to it. He cups the water in his hands, slurping loudly.

While Lance is busy quenching his thirst, another large snake-like creature noiselessly slithers toward her. It glitters pink, shiny spikes running down its spine. Its diamond eyes flash.

As quietly as she can, Allura slaughters the creature before Lance notices. It only takes a few well-aimed strikes. Immediately, she drags its carcass out of sight, hiding it behind a wide crystal pillar. There is no need to worry Lance further.

Lance has many fears, and he’s not quiet about them. He doesn’t have quite as many as Hunk, but it’s toward that end of the spectrum. He’s often frightened, so it makes it all the more commendable that he’s able to overcome that to protect others. He really is someone she's grown to admire.

As they continue onward, Lance keeps talking. It’s idle chatter, but it’s nice all the same. He tells her about a wide array of animals on Earth. It’s strange that there would be so many of the same animals as on Altea, completely different planets with galaxies between them. At the same time, though, it’s not all that surprising, considering how many uncanny similarities already exist between them. It’s not exactly random chance—the Blue Lion went to Earth for a reason.

The animals on Earth sound quite boring, generally drab in colour and not nearly as intelligent as their Altean equivalents. All the same, many people own pets. While not particularly smart, they’re supposedly nice to cuddle and play with.

Pidge is one such pet-owner. She has a dog at home that she misses. She had found great comfort in her dog when her father and brother went missing. Allura feels a pang of guilt for taking Pidge away from that, recruiting her in this war so far from home, but Lance assures her she’s not just here out of obligation; she’s chosen to stay of her own volition. She’s found a home out here, too.

Allura wishes she could have heard this from Pidge directly. She wishes they were closer. Her hopes for a sisterly bond between them had been quickly quashed, and they don’t talk all that much outside of missions. It’s not just Pidge, either; she wishes she were closer to all of the paladins. Allura had distanced herself when the paladins had first come to the Castle, too afraid to gain more loved ones to lose. The paladins found their way into her heart all the same, but by then, the paladins had grown so close to one another, she didn’t feel she could join them in activities outside of battle without intruding.

“Are you kidding?” Lance says, after she tells him—he has a way of getting her to open up in a way she never would with others. “We’d love to have you join us! We kinda always just assumed you wouldn’t want to, or would be busy hanging out with Coran, or playing with the space mice, or something. Seriously, you’re always welcome to hang out with us. We’d like that a lot.”

“…Are you certain?” she asks.

“C’mon,” he says, with an easy smile. “If Keith’s invited, there’s no way you’re not.”

She laughs. “What even started your rivalry with Keith in the first place? He told me before that he had no idea; he didn’t even know who you were at the time.”

“That’s exactly it!” Lance says. “He didn’t seem to care about anyone other than Shiro. He wouldn’t give anyone else the time of day. I know better now, but at the time, I assumed it was ‘cause he thought he was better than everyone else. The worst part about it was he was better than everyone else, and he didn’t even have to try.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Why would that matter?”

He gives her a wry smile. “You’ve always been amazing at everything you do too, so you wouldn’t really understand.”

She’s not really sure how to respond to that. “…Tell me more about animals.”

He laughs. “Okay, maybe you don’t always win gold for subtlety. But yeah, sure. Ostriches. Did you guys have ostriches on Altea?”

Many conversations, six snakes, and two crocodile-xznly squiwl creatures later, Allura interrupts Lance’s explanation of ‘bowling’ when she hears the slightest noise from around the corner. It doesn’t sound like any of the beasts they’ve encountered. No, it sounds like… a groan.

Allura grabs Lance’s hand and breaks into a run.

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labgrownsteaks · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 20

I lit some candles, we still had power but it still seemed fitting given the fact that all the internet was down. I heard the front door close of my parents house. My mom and dad were both outside, and so was everyone else. Neighbors who hadn’t seen one another in months were giving each other waves and head nods. Making small talk about the cable companies and how everyone hates their cell phone service provider. My dad started walking back to the garage, he hadn’t been back here in ages and I suddenly got self conscious. He walked up to the door and I let him in. He was wearing a oversized teal t shirt and pastel pink plaid shorts. Pretty much the most dadlike outfit you could ever imagine.

“Haha! Looks like you kids found something to do during the outtage! “ he said in reference to the strong smell of marijuana in the air. Guy was the first to respond and he always had this habit of being overly formal.

“Hi sir, we’ve just been playing Pitfall until the power went out” he said.

“”I can imagine” my dad said dubiously in response. He then took a look at me as if he hadn’t seen me in years and said “So, what have you been up to lately?” A million things raced through my head, we had just been transformed into gophers to carry out some mission we weren’t even sure of and were saved by an owl that previously wanted to kill us, and were responsible for taking out service for an indiscernible portion of the country.

“Not much, just chillin” I responded

“Well, I hope you kids can find a way to keep yourselves busy without the internet. I know how much y’all depend on it. But get outside and live a little! See the world!” My father said, patting me on the back.

“That’s a good plan sir. We were about to go on a bike ride” Erin piped up.

“Go for a bike ride!” My father retorted with more excitement than made me feel comfortable. “I saw you got that old beast fired up the other day!” he said to me, referencing my bike which had been outfitted with a gas motor. “How’s it running?” he continued on.

“Umm, pretty good. Runs good I guess” I replied.

“Well if you ever want to take a break and work on it together just let me know!” he said with a bit of flair. “I’m always inside there, come say hi sometime!”

“Will do dad. “

Erin and Guy said their own goodbyes, as did I, and he wandered back up the driveway, and looked at the flowers which were planted around a tree in the front yard before waving at the neighbor across the street who was doing the same.

Guy was playing with the roach of the joint, and was lighting it up again, trying to get a couple more hits off of it. Erin looked over at me and I asked “So what now?”

“We wait. What else can we do?” Erin replied.

“You showed a lot of determination out there. With your gopher teeth and all!”

“You just sat on the fence and watched” “What else could I do?!” I retorted, laughing along with Erin.

“You could’ve chomped on some cables!”

Guy interrupted “Sorry to crash the Disney film y’all have going on… But do you want to go on a bike ride? It’s so quiet out!”

Erin and I agreed, and Guy drove my bike and I sat on the front handlebars as we whizzed through the streets of my neighborhood to his place. Everyone was outside, waving, and yelling their salutations as the wind blew in our hair.

We got to Guy’s place, which was in the lower level of an apartment complex. My butt took a beating on the ride over sitting on the handlebars but it was worth it. After dropping out bikes in the grass in front of his place we followed guy to his “storage unit” he had behind it. Guy opened the garage door and it was absolutely bursting at the seams with all sorts of outdated computer technology. Old drum machines that nobody cared about, a brokem synthesizer, balls and balls of cables and monitors piled on top of each other, piled on top of organs, jammed in between old couches, betamax players, overhead projectors, glass hippie lights that once hung from the ceiling, and piles and piles of old computer language books next to stacks of CD ROMs and VHS cassettes. Erin walked over to a box of 8 track cartridges. “What the hell are these? John Denver, Jimmy Buffet, you definitely got all the hits!” she said, holding one up in her hand. Guy responed with a look of disgust “You don’t know what 8 tracks are?”

“Can you even play these?” Erin continued

“Sure, I’ve got the player right there!” Guy exclaimed, as he bent over a tan torn up couch. He fished out a silver box, it was a Pioneer Stereo Receiver with a built in 8 track player, it had some inlaid fake wood in the front, and the silver was polished and glistened in the light. He pulled the cord free from the grip of the couch. He then pulled a couple small cabinet sized speakers free from an adjacent shelf. “Altec Lansing?” I said, speaking about the brand name plastered on the front. “Yeah, they’ve been around forever, since the 1920s” Guy said as he screwed the speakers wires to the back of the 8 track receiver unit. “Pick something out of the box” Guy instructed Erin as she rummaged through the box full of 8 tracks. “This looks badass” she said as she pulled out a white cartridge with what appeared to be an ink drawing of a large batwing shepherding a sea of skulls and other dark drawings. “Oh that’s Nazareth, Hair of the Dog, it’s a fantastic choice!” Guy piped up excitedly, grabbing the 8 track from Erin’s hand and jamming it into the front of the receiver, which was now glowing blue as he had plugged it into an outdoor outlet. The speakers began to cry out into the otherwise quiet atmostphere. A male rockstar voice screamed out into the void “now you’re messin with a… A sonofabitch! Now you’re messin with a sonofabitch!” Guy yelled over the speakers which were far too loud for pleasant company “They’re from fuckin Scotland!”

Erin and I both nodded our heads as the music continued to blare out. An older woman was walking by with her dog and took a hard look at us before walking up. “Oh Nazareth! I haven’t heard them in ages!” she exclaimed, and Guy and her both bobbed their heads with the music, looking at each other in the eye. They were from different generations but both shared the passion for kickass heavy metal music. Erin and I continued to sit there like we were in some sort of nature documentary, watching the madness unfold all around us. The woman, in her mid 40s was now playing air guitar as Guy continued to head bang and play air guitar. “A SONOFABITCH!” guy yelled out and the woman responded “NOW YOU”RE MESSIN WITH A SONOFABITCH!” the woman responded. Erin began to laugh, and her head fell onto my shoulder for a split second. I looked down at her and smiled back. She mouthed to me “What the fuck” and we both continued to watch the nature documentary unfold before us. The song ended, and the woman gave Guy a high five. He turned down the music as she began to peer into his storage unit. “Oh my ! This is all the best stuff! I didn’t know you kids cared about this stuff!” She picked an old atari controller in her hands. “Oh my what a treasure! “ she continued. Guy just kept on smiling. “Now that the internet is down, you’re the man!” she said in a jolly middle aged mom sort of way. The idea had never really hit me, but what if the internet never came back, or what if it were down for days? What would everyone do if they couldn’t play their games or stream their films? Guy had thousands of movies, and music, and projectors, and everything else we had all taken for granted. Everything in that garage could be stored on a single laptop computer, which could be folded and put in a backpack. It wasn’t even on the computer, but in a cloud somewhere, streaming. The music didn’t even exist as an MP3 on a computer anywhere. But what Guy had still resonated with them. Why? Music was still music. Why did it matter if it was played on an 8 track, or an LP, or streamed on Spotify? Guy was now finagling an old ten speed bike out from underneath a pile of records. The middle aged mom continued to sway back and forth with her eyes closed as “Love Hurts!” sang out through the speakers. Erin looked at me shaking her head and smiling.

Guy had got the bike out of the garage now, and the woman was now serenading Erin and I with her own off key rendition of “Love Hurts! Love Scars! Love Wounds! And marks!” We looked at her, and felt a bit of our own destiny in her goofy movements. The song came to an end, and she thanked Guy for showing her his collection, and made her way down the driveway back onto the sidewalk, still moving her hips and quietly singing to herself. Guy was pumping up the tires of his bike with an ancient bicycle pump. The rotten old tires sprung back into life, and within a few minutes we were all riding together into the cool evening breeze. But in the back of our heads, the incident, and all we had been through still lurked. Had we shut off all the power? What would happen when it came back on, and rebooted? We tried to push these thoughts back into our minds as we careened down a hill.

#lgs

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draqtherogue · 5 years ago

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Sanders Sides Angel AU Plot

Alright so last post I pinned down the characters and this one I’ll throw out some potential plot ideas.

Thomas is sick, yes, and he’s dying. His story ends with him getting better. How? That’s when the Angels kick in.

Virgil, as Thomas’ Protector Angel had faith in him that if he were just given the chance then he’d be able to change the world. Thus starts him trying to change Thomas’ fate. At first he doesn’t know how to go about this. Patton and Roman being his closest Angel friends try to find solutions but they can’t control his death. However, things change when Patton has a certain conversation with a certain Angel of Death.

Patton and Logan are chillin, taking a break when Patton starts talking about Thomas. He mentions how he’s a good yet dying spirit. Logan realizes he’s assigned to guide this child very soon and tells Patton. Patton begs Logan to not do his job so that Thomas may live. Logan, as mentioned before, says that this is just a part of his job and how things work.

Patton reports back to the group and Roman remembers something. He tells Virgil that Angels of Healing exist. The thing is there’s only one made every five thousand years. Angels of Healing have the power to heal any being whom they so please. If Virgil can find an Angel of Healing and persuade them to heal Thomas, then Thomas might get that second chance. So, he goes to find one.

Meanwhile Deceit’s been trying to reconnect with Thomas. Normally dying kids lose their Protector angel, if given one, so Deceit doesn’t understand why Thomas has a new Protector. He also doesn’t understand why Virgil is the new protector. He wants what’s best for Thomas and tries to communicate with him but can’t. So he tries to make Virgil send the message for him. Once he catches wind of the Angel of Healing plan he passively searches for one, but knows it’s probably hopeless.

As the time draws near, Logan starts appearing in the room and talking to Virgil, telling him it’s hopeless. He appears every day to remind Virgil that Thomas is going to pass soon and that he should begin to move on. “It’s easier that way,” he says. He’s aware that Virgil is a new celestial but he also knows this isn’t Virgil’s first kid.

Roman looks for clues as to where Angels of Healing are. He remembers vaguely hearing about their existence but he doesn’t know from where... that is, until Remus shows up. Remus comes around often to talk to Roman, as he feels Roman could use with some adventure stories. He rambles on and on and talks largely about himself when Roman just snaps. He’s trying to help this poor kid and Remus just keeps talking about himself.

When he snaps, Remus just laughs. Roman gets furious and demands an explanation. “I’m an Angel of Healing, silly!” Roman is shocked at first but his mind clicks. Angels of War are given the ability to heal important people for the sake of winning the war. They’re few in number but lead the biggest battles. He begs Remus to help Thomas but Remus says no, as he views Thomas as just a human and as nasty as the rest of them, despite what Roman tells him.

Virgil can’t find an Angel of Healing. When he asks celestials they always tell him they don’t exist. He gives up and tells Roman he’s mistaken. Patton, meanwhile, has been trying to convince Logan. He’s been telling Logan stories he heard from Virgil about the things Thomas has done when he was younger. His moral compass was headed north and he deserved a second chance. Logan doesn’t care; it’s how life is.

Once Roman finds out about Remus being able to heal, he tells Virgil immediately. Virgil demands to meet Remus and convince him to help. They don’t have much time to reluctantly, Roman accepts. The three go to find Remus but come across Deceit instead. Deceit tells them he knows how to find Remus, and despite how much Virgil hates Deceit, he trusts him. Once they find Remus they all try to convince him to heal Thomas.

That’s when Virgil feels an icy cold cover his body.

He realizes that Thomas’ time has come and the group hurries back. Logan’s walking to the entrance but Roman stops him. He won’t let him in and prepares to fight him. Logan tells them to stop worrying but Roman proceeds to fight. Patton, Virgil, and Deceit hurry to go to Thomas. They gather around his bed and get ready to defend.

Roman loses, and Logan enters the hospital. He’s met by Deceit, first, who leads him to the wrong room, saying that he was taken into some special care. This buys them time as Patton and Virgil try to figure out what to do. Virgil panics and spits out any decent idea that crosses his mind, when Patton realizes that it’s may actually be too late. Death always comes. “Kiddo... I’m sorry.”

Deceit, unable to stall any longer goes to warn the others, when he finds Roman, heavily damaged. He realizes that Patton and Virgil won’t be safe but takes Roman to Remus so he can live.

Logan finally gets to the room, where he finds Virgil. Virgil is standing between he and Thomas, and absolutely loses it. He talks about how sure, Logan’s seen this on a cycle, but asks if he’s seen the beginning of life. Logan pauses. This gives Patton enough time to shoot an arrow at Logan’s back.

Logan falls, but gets up, pulling it out. He mutters a sorry and pulls Thomas’ spirit under. The heart monitor flatlines as nurses and doctors file in to bring him back. Virgil begins crying and Patton goes to comfort him.

Thomas finds himself in an inky blackness, confused. He was fine a minute ago, just really tired. Now he’s awake? A path lights up and he meets Logan. Logan looks at him, with a sort of light in his eyes. Thomas noticed the arrow wound having ripped his clothes and made a glowing tear in the celestial’s flesh. Logan grabs Thomas’ hand and starts walking down the path.

Then he goes off the path.

He stops a little bit aways from the path and has a sit down talk with him, asking him how he is. Casual banter. That is, until he poses Thomas with a question. “Do you think I’m scary?” Thomas shakes his head, when Logan reveals the true ugliness that is Death. Thomas is shocked at first, but tries to make Logan feel better about his looks. Logan nods and grabs his hand again, bringing him back to the path. He’s decided what he must do.

Virgil is still crying by the time Roman, Deceit, and Remus show up. Virgil sees Remus and starts attacking him, screaming it’s his fault that such a good soul died. He’s interrupted by the heart monitor. It’s started again. Remus takes this distraction to heal Thomas, and Virgil goes to him.

When Thomas opens his eyes, he can see all of them. Even Logan who appears behind them all. Then they all disappear.

That is, until years later, when he has a sit down with himself, figure himself out, and maybe come to a better understanding that we all could learn from with his Protector Angels (and Remus.)

#thomas sanders #deceit sanders #sanders sides #ts deceit #remus sanders #ts logan #ts roman #ts patton #ts virgil #ts remus #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides au #sanders sides angel au

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caranelguild · 7 years ago

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Caran El, Oryk 7-8

The storm that our adventurers enter on this seventh day since leaving Snowcrest Village is like nothing any of them has ever seen, except Borinn, who made this pilgrimage some three decades ago but doesn’t remember this storm until later. In any case, the blizzard is intense: snow and ice whips at the travelers from all directions carried on utterly vicious winds, and the cold is quick to set into their bones.

They trek through this extraordinary weather for the next eight hours, stopping every two or so to form an emergency quinzhee for warm snuggles and to recover at least a measure of the feeling in their fingers. Borinn and, bizarrely, Auni, are the only ones who remain untouched by the frigid winds, and it is their endurance that sees these life-saving structures formed whenever needed. In one particularly dire situation, Borinn mixes a healing tea to administer to those worst off. After traveling some distance, blindly following whomever is ahead of oneself, Bellemere has his companions tie themselves together with his rope.

The incredible trek comes to a far-too-temporary end after eight exhausting hours as the adventurers spill into the eye of the storm and come upon the remarkable relic of the Dvargi the Lífsboltinn, an enormous bolt of blue ice stretching towards the clear evening sky. Distracting most of the party, however, is the vastly underdressed Kokuum warrior chillin’ by its base.

“Hey, how’s it going,” the stranger asks. “I’m pretty cold, how’re you?” And, though his questions largely remain unanswered, the Caran El adventurers manage to extricate quite the tale from him: Tahiki, for that is the wood elf’s name, had been ‘hired’ in jest as a bodyguard by the Sablists back in Nos and had been very recently abandoned here to ‘guard the relic’, but actually just to die. “But I was paid in advance, so, not so bad.”

After hearing that the Sablists had taken a chunk of the Lífsboltinn and had departed north-northwest only two hours ago, Auni is the first to race back into the storm, throwing his cloak at Tahiki as he passes.

“You want revenge?” Tahiki is asked. “Ye, sure,” he says, and follows the bold voyageurs as they once again brave the vicious storm. After getting almost separated in the blinding snow because they all sprinted with abandon into its clutches, the party settles together into pace bound once more together.

A cloak not proving equal to actual winter gear, it is not long before Gróa has to pick up and carry the shivering Tahiki, and once again and not long after that, the majority of the party finds themselves unable to keep up the pace and continue, having now hiked through unearthly winter storms for roughly eleven hours straight. Quinzhee, snuggles, hot rocks, and their first meal in a day keep our party from death, but time is pressing heavily on their minds and before an hour passes they are once again trudging through meter-high snow, breathing ice instead of air, and fighting against wind that does its best to knock them all over as they move forward in the howling blackness of a maniacal alpine night.

Utterly wrecked and beyond exhaustion, they spill from the clutches of the storm hours later to find themselves on a wide glacial shelf stretching out in the calm blue glow of a northern morning yet bereft of the sun. A few hundred meters onto the shelf stands a large iron anchor attached by rope to a large traversial craft floating idle in the sky thirty meters above the ice.

A refrain of Stop them repeating in their heads, the seven adventurers stumble closer to the anchor to take a look at the vessel above their heads. A Tulē pokes their head over the rail, and suddenly discs of hard ice fly at Auni and Tahiki. Feeling the need to get on board to retaliate, others encourage Bellemere to climb the anchor rope. He gets halfway, and then a Sablist cuts the rope and Bellemere falls.

A witchy purple glow expands from the craft’s engine room and the vessel begins to move away.

“We need to take it down!” cries Auni.

There is a sudden, explosive earthquake. Ice bursts from the glacier and a jagged, prehistoric rock rises from the sudden rift. Borinn is standing in snow that begins to swirl about him, his legs widely planted, his eyes burning white in the gloom, and his hands circle as he forms the jagged boulder with his wicka. He lets out a roar, then, “FILL IT!” and a small black opening appears in the side of the now-round boulder.

Auni doesn’t hesitate, channels a stream of snow-water into the hollow stone.

“Freeze it when it strikes!” yells Borinn, then, with a rending bellow, he sends the boulder screaming towards the ship.

It goes clear through the aft, bursts apart into vicious shards of stone and ice as it appears above the deck that flay sail and wood alike. In the heartbeat after, the entire vessel is wreathed in fire that bursts outwards with a purple haze.

Some of that fire had been shaped by Rhedyn’s hand, had followed Borinn’s rock, some of it was the engine bursting apart.

Suddenly, the ship falls, crumbling into a fiery wreck as it hits the ice.

The snow settles around Borinn, who slumps forward exhausted.

Three figures appear by the wreck, silhouetted by the blaze.

Gwen, Rhedyn, and Tahiki draw their swords and charge. Gróa draws her hammer and follows, screaming out a battle cry. Borinn follows as quickly as he is able.

Auni rushes to Bellemere, heavily injured from his fall.

Battle is met and metal clashes on metal. Gwen, Gróa, and Tahiki take on a tall Tulē wielding a long-handled elvish blade, but they feel their attacks slowed by their own weariness and, to boot, the Sablist seems dangerously capable. Rhedyn finds her hands full of a Sablist wielding a chain mace. Borinn looks for opportunities to sacrifice his own body for a teammate.

A Tulē remaining by the wreckage hurls bladed ice-discuses (d-ice-cuses?) at Tahiki while calling out racist slurs---the Kokuum recognizes them as the Tulē who had hired him just before, failing to dive into an evasive roll in time, a discus takes off a sliver of his scalp.

Auni wraps a tensor bandage around Bellemere’s sprained ankle while the Maluran throws back a health potion. Feeling much improved, the boxer bounds into the fray, sprinting with sudden speed and throwing an immense haymaker at Rhedyn’s opponent. Another punch, this time an uppercut, separates the Sablist’s spine with a sickening pop, and they crumple to the snow.

Bellemere turns to the other warrior, who has at this time disarmed, sent sprawling, and skewered Gróa while flawlessly defending themself from Gwen.

Meanwhile, Tahiki has tied himself a nice bandage, has quaffed a health potion handed him by Borinn, and is racing towards his racist acquaintance. Not wanting to face up to the consequences of their ignorance, the elementalist attempts to throw the charging Tahiki aside by erupting the snow beneath the Kokuum, but alas! it becomes their own undoing, as the dexterous elf uses the new momentum beneath his feet to launch sword-first through the air at the Sablist.

Gróa does not witness her new companion’s acrobatics, does not see him skewer the Tulē through the face. She also does not see this coming: she strikes out at her own Tulean adversary and finds her hammer cracking down onto the shoulder of Rhedyn, spun against her will into the path of the blow by the masterful villain---who, engaged in that badass maneuver, does not see Bellemere’s fist coming. It cracks them hard in the jaw, sending them dizzy to a knee, where their shoulder is suddenly skewered by Gwen’s longsword. Yanking himself close with a hand upon his sword hilt, Gwen sends his other hand, as a fist, directly into the face of the Tulē, cracking their nose and sending them shooting off Gwen’s sword and into the snow, where their head suddenly disappears under Gróa’s hammer. A gout of blood erupts from the hole in the snow into which it had vanished.

Let us zoom out for a moment, bring our perception to the edge of the storm whence our adventurers had appeared after fifteen essentially uninterrupted hours of travel, look out at the glacial shelf now gleaming in sunlight still without a visible source, as soft snowflakes fall gently to an agitated plane.

Tahiki stands up beside the burning wreckage of a double-decked traversial craft, withdraws his sword from the cheek of his victim, then bends again to scalp his kill. Blood drips onto clear ice beneath him, the snow melted by the blaze.

Rhedyn bites her lip as a pop, echoing across the shelf, signifies her shoulder is back where it should be. Auni gives her arm a squeeze, moves over blood-spattered snow to offer his healing kit elsewhere.

Gwen takes up handfuls of snow to clean his blade before drying it carefully and returning it to its scabbard.

The others breathe heavily, size up their own wounds, survey the battlefield.

The sky brightens steadily, signaling the arrival of true day.

#journal #traverse #chapter two: lífheim

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