#among the clouds: dash commentary

[spark-took-flight]

Things not on Brainstorm's bingo card this cycle? Optimus joining Grindr. Well, time to officially delete that account...

[wewererogue]

Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser: Review by Justin Alexander

[by Justin Alexander / The Alexandrian, March 21st, 2006]

I’ve been on a pulp fantasy kick for the past month or so: I started with Robert E. Howard, having finally secured (by way of the Science Fiction Book Club) a hardcover copy of what promises to be the first true edition of his Conan stories to be issued in the States. From that familiar territory I spun off for a quick foray through Henry Kuttner’s imaginative Prince Raynor stories before returning to Howard for the outstanding – if unfortunately few – Cormac Mac Art stories. I then took a voyage of peril and pleasure across Clark Ashton Smith’s forgotten continent of Zothique before turning my attention to Fritz Leiber’s legendary duo: Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser.

From there I had intended to set sail for the lands of either Moorcock’s Elric or Wagner’s Kane, but – in truth – I find myself so disheartened that I am instead turning my attention to wholly different pastures for awhile.

But I fear that I set my premise before my scene. Let me back up for a moment.

For those who don’t know, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser are famed heroes of the sword and sorcery genre. First unleashed in the pages of the pulps, their literary career spanned almost five decades, coming to an end only with Leiber’s death in the early ‘90s. Their tales are most commonly available in seven authoritative collections: Swords and Deviltry, Swords Against Death, Swords in the Mist, Swords Against Wizardry, Swords of Lankhmar, Swords and Ice Magic, and The Knight and Knave of Swords.

I first read their adventures in junior high, savoring the two omnibuses which collected the first six of these volumes: The Three Swords and Swords’ Masters. Coming back to them now, nearly fifteen years later, I had only dim and disjointed memories of the two dashing swashbucklers, their gritty city of Lankhmar, and the mystic-laden land of Nehwon.

On this return trip, I found myself harboring a great deal of uneven disappointment. In short, I found that the stories of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser could be roughly divided into two camps – the outstanding and the painfully mediocre – with the latter far outnumbering the former.

Nor can one simply say, as one can in so many cases, that the earlier tales are superior to the hack work of the later. “Ill Met in Lankhmar”, The Swords of Lankhmar, and even the somewhat mixed “Rime Isle”, although among the later works, would make the list of those stories I would recommend. Although, that being said, I think it is clear that, as the series continued, a certain dreary repetition and self-conscious cleverness began to consistently diminish the stories.

Perhaps the best way to approach this inconsistent and self-crippling series is through a volume-by-volume summary of impressions.

SWORDS AND DEVILTRY: Fortunately, the most consistent volume in the series is also the first, although it contains only three tales. “The Snow Women” and “The Unholy Grail” each tell a tale of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser before their fateful and legendary meeting in Lankhmar. The former is a top-notch tale of youth and magic in the frozen north, keenly demonstrating the fantastic and unique vision which Leiber is capable of delivering. The latter, although strongly crafted, is a somewhat weaker tale – its plot more commonplace in its conception. The volume is rounded out by “Ill Met in Lankhmar”, which is the tale of the first true meeting of our destined heroes. It is also a powerfully tragic story, and its strength is best described by the fact that it represented my strongest memory of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser before returning to the series.

SWORDS AGAINST DEATH: The second volume in the series begins to show the inconsistency I’m talking about, particularly in the short bridging stories which I believe Leiber wrote specifically for these collections. “The Jewels in the Forest ” and “Thieves’ House”, two of the oldest stories, are the highlights here, and come highly recommended. Running close behind are “The Howling Tower” and “Claws of the Night” – the former being slight, but imaginative; while the latter comes as close to being a prototypical tale of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser as you are likely to find (mixing thievery, gods, and sly humor across the backdrop of Lankhmar).

Much of this volume, however, is thoroughly pedestrian. To this category belong “The Bleak Shore”, “The Sunken Land”, “The Seven Black Priests”, and “Bazaar of the Bizarre”. (Although, in their favor, I will note that these all have their moments of fantastic vision. The last, however, is a very thin pastiche.) Finally, it would be charitable to describe the last two tales offered here – “The Circle Curse” and “The Price of Pain-Ease” – as thoroughly mediocre. It would be more accurate to simply describe them as bad.

SWORDS IN THE MIST: The third volume is even more uneven than the second. On the one hand, it arguably contains the two best stories in the series: The first of these, “Lean Times in Lankhmar”, is a masterfully crafted tale. Its characters keep you enthralled while its fanciful premise is cleverly worked into an utterly hilarious conclusion. It reminds me strongly of Terry Pratchett at his finest. (Pratchett’s Small Gods, in particular, owes an obvious debt to this story.) The second gem to be found here is “Adept’s Gambit”, which is also the first tale of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser written by Leiber. Set in a mythically tinged epoch of ancient history, the tale is faintly resonant with the finest creations of Lovecraft, Howard, and Clark Ashton Smith, but possesses a flair and unique sense of character which makes it all Leiber’s own.

Unfortunately the rest of this volume can’t compare with these two classics: “The Cloud of Hate” and “When the Sea-King’s Away” are forgettable clichés, while “Their Mistress, the Sea” and “The Wrong Branch” are ham-fisted, half-baked afterthoughts attempting to create an unnecessary bridge between one tale and the next.

SWORDS AGAINST WIZARDRY: The bulk of this volume is taken up by two lengthy tales, “Stardock” and “The Lords of Quarmall”. Both stories play out across a fantastic and vividly imagined landscape populated with strange cultures and larger-than-life characters. These two tales give Swords Against Wizardry perhaps the strongest base of any volume in the series. Unfortunately, the collection is also padded out with a couple of bridging stories – “The Witch’s Tent” and “The Two Best Thieves of Lankhmar” – which have a bit more substance to them than the other bridging stories, but are still mediocre offerings at best.

THE SWORDS OF LANKHMAR: This is, in fact, the only stand-alone novel in the series. It tells the sprawling saga of an attempted invasion (of a most unusual size and character) aimed against the great city of Lankhmar . Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, of course, almost single-handedly turn back this invasion – although the path they take is anything but simple or straight-forward.

The Swords of Lankhmar is not the best story told of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, but it is perhaps the greatest. The expanded format allows Leiber a chance to stretch his muscles, and he accepts the challenge admirably by weaving a tapestry not only expansive in its imaginings but detailed in its fancies.

Perhaps the most intriguing thing to me about this novel is the clear inheritance its narrative receives from fairy tales. Whereas most writers of sword-and-sorcery trace their antecedents back to classical myth and legend, Leiber’s heroes clearly inhabit a world inspired as much as by Hans Christian Anderson as it is by Beowulf. And it is perhaps this, more than anything else, which gives these stories a unique distinction in the field.

SWORDS AND ICE MAGIC: Unfortunately, after The Swords of Lankhmar the series appears to have spent its creativity. Swords and Ice Magic, the sixth volume, is largely an unimaginative regurgitation of the themes, plots, and characters found earlier in the series. The first five stories in this collection (“The Bait”, “Beauty and the Beasts”, “Trapped in Shadowland”, “The Bait”, and “Under the Thumbs of the Gods”) are simply dreadful wastes of time. In fact, they are all essentially the same story: Distant powers or gods attempt to kill Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, who – for their part – accept the improbable with stoic complacency while thoroughly and effortlessly thwarting the attempts each time. Unfortunately, this is also a story which was told twice before in these collections.

Fortunately, things then take a slight turn for the better. The sixth story, “Trapped in the Sea of Stars ”, is badly contrived and nearly plotless, but makes up for it through the vivid description of its sense-of-wonder sea voyage. There is, in fact, no particular story here at all – but the visions conjured forth by Leiber’s prose are worth the price of admission.

The last two stories in the collection – “The Frost Monstreme” and “Rime Isle” – are, in fact, two halves of a single story. Although still flawed by an increasingly rambling style, self-conscious commentary, and regurgitation of plot and imagery, this story still has a lot to offer: Clever interactions of character, epic sensibility, charming wit, and wondrous feats are offered up with a melancholic flair.

THE KNIGHT AND KNAVE OF SWORDS: Sadly, however, that is the end of it. This last collection of stories offers nothing but an imagination apparently spent.  “Sea Magic”, “The Mer She”, and “The Curse of the Smalls and the Stars” each offer us regurgitated plots while doing nothing more than shuffling around the characters and magic items presented in “Rime Isle” to little sense of purpose or accomplishment.

Finally, in “The Mouser Goes Below”, Leiber pulls the same trick: Shuffling around characters and devices already well-worn beyond any effective use. The only difference to be found is that Leiber pulls his reused material from a larger portion of the series, rather than a single story.

I also found another trend in this last volume particularly disconcerting: A pointless coarseness which was previously absent from the series. I’m not sure what Leiber was attempting to accomplish by suddenly inundating the narrative with “long poniards” piercing “cunts and arse holes”, but the effect was merely distasteful.

In the end, I think this was a series which long-outlived its creator’s interest. Or, at the very least, his ability. The later offerings become increasingly repetitive and unimaginative, as if Leiber had simply run out of new ideas to share. Unfortunately, in collected form, these lackluster efforts seem to out-mass and actively detract from those stories which legitimately earn Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser a place of high honor in the pantheon of fantasy heroes.

Indeed, I found myself unable to finish the series. Swords and Ice Magic had seriously fatigued my interest, and I pushed on with The Knight and Knave of Swords only because (a) I had never read that final volume and (b) I wanted to finish what I had started.

But, in the end, I could manage no further than the mid-point of “The Mouser Goes Below”. Leiber pinioned the Mouser – immobile, invisible, and speechless – in order to have him bear witness to a gratuitously graphic description of one of his former loves having her maid stripped bare, fondled in the cunt and arse hole, and then given instruction on “naked serving”. After several pages of this pointlessly turgid prose I finally gave up and closed the book.

If I ever return to the adventures of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, it shall be a markedly proscribed path I take through their tales. Such a journey would look something like this:

“The Snow Woman”

“The Unholy Grail”

“Ill Met in Lankhmar”

“The Jewels in the Forest”

“Thieves’ House”

“The Bleak Shore”

“The Howling Tower”

“The Sunken Land”

“The Seven Black Priests”

“Claws of the Night”

“Lean Times in Lankhmar”

“When the Sea-King’s Away”

Adept’s Gambit

“Stardock”

“The Lords of Quarmall”

The Swords of Lankhmar

“The Frost Monstreme”

“Rime Isle”

I suspect this is less than half of the words written by Leiber of the two greatest swordsmen to ever live in this or any other universe, but it is decidedly the better half. And it, unlike the balance of the series, comes with my highest recommendation.

GRADES:

SWORDS AND DEVILTRY: A-

SWORDS AGAINST DEATH: B+

SWORDS IN THE MIST: A-

SWORDS AGAINST WIZARDRY: A-

SWORDS IN LANKHMAR: A-

SWORDS AND ICE MAGIC: B

KNIGHT AND KNAVE OF SWORDS: D

[source]

[mantrabay]

A Little Known Shortcut.

Wandering the roads. It has me under a spell.

Even when prickly brambles

scrape my eyelids or those bony ankles are being twisted by tooth like stones. The angular sort clustered mischievously among the green shoots that litter every footpath.

They lie in wait, in ambush.

It goes with the territory for this seasoned footman.

Meandering landscapes are house and home to the spiral lanes and clover clad hills that are rife in my area.

Their rustic heritage sometimes sacrificed to the orphanage of malleable motives.

Crop farmers obsessed with bountiful harvest.

A restless developer pushing the limits of an urban jungle.

Fellow traveller in league with fugitives from the cockpit.

The pressure cooker of modern life.

The town dweller with split loyalties who clings to the tumult of the city but hankers after some rural idyll.

Culprits one and all.

A lair from the hubbub.

Dwellings of the quaintest kind huddle together like dots in a matrix separated only by a minuscule space.

The more alluring aspects of tradition have been preserved.

Among these are shortcuts or bypasses.

Those sequestered passages that shave miles off for the perennial rambler or clueless hitchhiker.

The eye becomes a lense to all these

things hidden or supposedly hidden.

Human vision as sensor to magic trails.

Those tucked away secret spots beloved of local wiseacres.

They festoon the sprawling countryside at random.

My name is Eric Spring.

Anthea, my partner a transcendental meditation teacher retired early at an early age.

Her withdrawal from work was never meant to be permanent.

A final decision hinged on Anthea's ability to purge that fiendish veil of sadness that had been shadowing her.

There were several obstacles in her path but they weren’t insurmountable.

Thoughts of Anthea in her halcyon days haunted me.

Mental pictures of a vibrant woman imbued with passion.

Poignant evocative heart-tugging images.

Bar excursions into town my station is that of Anthea’s carer.

This eternally stoic woman is mindful of her mental boundaries and the abyss concealed by each of them.

But she is not prone to self-hate or abuse. The more lethal plagues of the psyche hadn't yet impacted on her.

Anthea was groping for exits but hadn’t found the signs.

She remains housebound as I embark on those age defying treks into town.

We keep in touch by mobile phone.

A very angelic sensitive looking person is she.

Reminiscent of a Sunday Times editor.

The accent filters every noun and stresses every nuance.

Like the sounds from an early morning orchard.

Anthea's job became monotonous and her other pursuits painting and writing fled without trace.

A budding artist’s most dreaded syndromes struck.

Writer's block. Artistic vacuum.

The wellspring of her imagination now devoid of those inspiring flashes that sustain creative impulse.

She had few outlets bar my care and a lady called Fidelma who had the edge on me with regard to local knowledge. I longed to hear Anthea's voice on my device.

Her hypnotic voice bridges gaps.

You feel close even when speaking to her from a distance.

I love the walks and savouring all those pivot points of folklore.

I pride myself on my intimate knowledge of every branch strewn rivulet, stream and layered rock formation.

My links to the environment are almost erotic as I crave it's sensual touch.

At times I enter a tranquil zone where the shutters are drawn.

Just myself and all those habitats.

“Hello Eric? Lost in thought again.

How is anthea these days?

I spoke to her over the phone a few days ago.

I sometimes drop in on her when you are out.”

Fidelma speaking with that chirping red robin voice of hers.

She had this penchant for suddenly appearing like an archaeological site.

And she vanished just as quickly leaving the person she spoke to scrambling to process her asides and insights before they disappeared.

Neighbour, friend, root and branch archivist whose grasp of detail was legendary.

“She seems to be coping.” I said.

“Glad to hear that. Maybe I can pay a flying visit some time soon.

But aren't you a foolish man to be imposing all those Olympic Marathons on yourself?”

Fidelma about to share one of her treasured nuggets.

“I love walking but any tips?”

Spring enquired naively as events soon demonstrated.

“There’s a shortcut…..a little known shortcut.

People in the know recommend it though I have never actually used it myself.

Maybe I will one day.

See, it's on the right hand side up the road there.

Think it might be useful when you want to get home in a hurry.” She concluded.

Fidelma in advanced middle age was still sprightly and youthful in her ways.

I missed a text from anthea and Fidelma noticed.

“Yes. I have one of those gadgets too.

Keeps me connected.

Took me awhile to master it.

Wish there was a shortcut for that.

But I'll best be on my way.

Take good care whatever the route.”

As always having spoken to Fidelma I wondered about in a trance.

Another colourful aspect of Fidelma’s personality was her “Banana Skin Syndrome.”

She could lose her balance betimes when enthusing about a topic or when she stumbled on an area that fascinated her.

The feet were a little wobbly.

All this against her philosophy about how interconnected everything is.

The mind is an antenna sending out signals to others was a frequent broadside of hers.

Even when Fidelma said very little she always had this magnetic effect on others.

Those terse one liners could trigger an avalanche in the mind.

Her thin phrases were always shrouded in a well crafted poetic meter.

It was in the tone, gestures and body language.

Those beady yet expressive eyes scanning her environment like a radar screen.

A cascade of images and sound bytes ensued when she left.

Several hours passed as my mind was in overdrive like a central processing unit.

I heard this inner voice telling me to explore this “shortcut.”

Having texted Anthea I then proceeded to this offshoot of a lane.

It was going to lighten the journey of this slope and pavement plodder.

Off I went down this quaint country shortcut.

Nothing out of the ordinary to begin with until Anthea rang.

“Gnawing feeling of sadness.

My mind is a dark blue canvass at the moment.”

Her lilting twang mingling with the song birds at the start of my downward journey.

I sensed this was urgent and started to walk quickly.

That's when problems arose.

Just a plain country passage with a primarily flat surface at this point.

There were houses on each side and some weeds strewn and partially mangled, turned to mulch by wild and indiscriminate boots.

Strange feelings welled up within me as I felt like a geyser at yellowstone.

The puff and splutter of tractors in nearby fields as furrows, the epicenter of future yields were turned.

Scarecrows were strategically perched in the meadow behind the right hand hedge to ward off some menace or other.

Something told me to relate my surroundings to Anthea.

If only to divert attention from an impending gloom.

Those barely audible inner prompts again.

“Eric, I don't want to pressurise you but at the moment I feel this dark cloud.”

Eric paused.

It then occurred to me that I was engulfed by dark foreboding clouds in tandem with a rising rainbow like haze.

As Anthea continued her disorders seemed to be complemented by external threats of rain intermingled with sunshine.

“I feel, Eric there is a radiance trying to break through.

Just to see you … your presence is a light which I could focus on.”

Then I realised that speed was of the essence.

That's when I could have panicked.

Anthea’s voice seemed louder, but also more lyrical as I realised this obscure

overlooked route could have done with some restoration!

Tufts of grass oozing slime.

Mounds of mud with pockets of oil stained water.

The briars were a shock team that endangered every part of the human body.

I was conveying all this to anthea as I was trying to dash at my normal pace.

Oddly Anthea’s tone of desperation started to dip.

But she did appear less tense as I told her this story over the phone.

“Someone told me this is a shortcut.”

Eric said gingerly.

“Who was that ? Anthea asked.

“Fidelma. We met on the main road just a short while ago.” I responded.

“You know her a bit better than I do.”

Anthea observed. “She's going to call over one of these days I'm sure.”

By now Anthea, initially nervous was mellowing as I continued with my frantic running … and staggering commentary!

She didn’t have had much to excite her over the last five years.

But I had to be careful lest those dark brooding phases returned.

Like a roving reporter I regaled her with lurid descriptions of limp green shrubs, tea brown leaves shredded on fissured rocks, juice dripping blackberry bushes with foraging earwigs seeking shelter from the sun.

But here I was almost knee deep in tangled foliage while keeping the love of my life up to speed!

The labyrinthine outcrops and mock craters were all included.

Suddenly misfortune struck without warning.

I nearly sprained my leg as I fell face down on a grassy patch.

Sprawled awkwardly across this surface my phone went flying but I managed to catch it.

“Eric, are you ok?

I don’t mean to be a burden.

Will I get someone to meet you at the end of this lane or short cut.”

Anthea again.

“I'm fine, Anthea.”

Eric said before slowly rising.

I kept detailing my observations and Anthea was reacting positively.

But I made it eventually with the sounds of the road as guide.

The temperatures continued to rise causing perspiration.

Peering thru the maze of entwined growths I saw … Fidelma.

“Where did you spring from?” Eric punning his own name.

“Fidelma ...you fell too.” A question that might have appeared tactless.

She was getting up, having fallen when taking her bearings it seems.

“Fidelma …. thanks but no thanks.

The shortcut.” I said.

“You are shivering.” She observed.

“I am. Spring responded.

“Got to get to Anthea because she might be in need of help.” Spring continued.

We both headed for my house as quickly as possible.

But it wasn’t far.

I texted Anthea and she answered by saying she had every reason to speak to me.

One wondered what that might be.

My face whitened.

Fidelma and I soon reached the house where I lived.

Eric pressed the doorbell as his heart pounded.

The door opened suddenly and we couldn't believe what we saw.

“Anthea, is that you?

I haven't seen you smile like that in years.”

I said.

Fidelma and I were perplexed to say the least.

“It’s early days yet but those locusts of darkness hopping around in my head maybe dwindling.

Those creative juices returned when I sensed your anxiety down the lane because I didn't want two sick people in this house.

But you brought splashes of vivid colour into my drawing room.

I could almost smell the rustic fragrance of every wilting petal and the creaking of every twig.

You set a whole cycle in train.”

Anthea then showed me two items she was working on.

“I have started a rough sketch of the lane you detailed and a short story.

There's been a sea change.” She said.

“Oh I wonder what I'll call this sketch and that short story?

Any ideas?” Anthea enquired.

Fidelma and I looked at each other and spoke almost in unison.

“I think we both have a fair idea what they both might be called.

Your story included.”

A little known shortcut indeed!

Photograph and short story copyright protected

[esperanzacboronial]

for the three word prompt, can you do elmer + #20? thank you!

Tempestuous, Rabbit, Hurt

[ Read on Ao3 ]

By the time the clouds rolled in, they were already several miles too far into the middle of nowhere for stopping or turning around to be a sensible option. Maybe that’s the reason Elmer would give if he cared about reason or sense at all, or if anyone in the car with him thought he cared about reason or sense enough to demand any of him. (They did not.) 

The upside to being on a deserted, mountainside dirt road with no civilised life around them was that there was no real risk to his recklessness; there were no other cars on the road, meaning no bystanders would get hurt if they crashed, which meant no one would get upset, which cleared up all concerns in Elmer’s mind. Crashing would be at worst an inconvenience for the immortals among them, and Phil was dispersed very evenly between their two cars, so in any case the odds were in her favour that she would come out of this alive and well. Better to continue on to their destination than to pull over and wait, and put the top priority on the line. The collective happiness of the group was sure to suffer if they were delayed. Elmer could imagine it now: Sylvie would glare, and Nile would stromp about, and Czes would grumble. That wouldn’t do at all.

Rain splattered against the windshield and slicked the road, but Elmer just switched his headlights on and drove straight into the tempest.

The radio, a quiet murmur of chart-topping singles interspersed with light, breezy commentary and a nearby village’s local “news” — never anything important, adopted kittens and lottery winners — cut out every few seconds due to shoddy signal. Elmer still enjoyed the noise. It was a warm, amicable buzz around him. It made him feel like he was sitting in a bar or a coffee shop, surrounded by happy, chattering people and the faint hum of music. He did not need to follow any of it to find it joyful.

(In this way it differed from background chatter in bars and coffee shops, which he would always follow as intently as he could – without eavesdropping, how would he solve the problems people did not ask him to solve?)

Phil was asleep in the back, along with Czes and Phil. In the passenger seat, Sylvie was curled up into her corner with a book and a reading light, trying to drown out the noise Elmer enjoyed so much. The dial was on the lowest notch, but any time a song came on that he was familiar with (and in three-hundred years, he had familiarised himself with an unfortunate sum) Elmer hummed at twice the volume. Phil and Czes slept through it fine, but every few minutes Sylvie would cast him a disparaging glance, foolishly hoping he might be perceptive enough to notice.

Elmer might have been perceptive enough to notice, but he did not show any sign of it if he was. For all his faults, he managed to keep his focus firmly on the road — so firmly, in fact, that when he saw a grey blur dash across it in the glow of the headlights he slammed his foot on the brakes without a second’s hesitation.

The sudden, skidding stop sent Sylvie’s book flying out of her hands. Czes bumped skulls with the Phil on his right, and the two awoke with a start while the Phil on his left, miraculously, continued snoring away.

“Are you trying to kill us?” snapped Sylvie when she regained her composure. 

“What good would that do?” Elmer said, laughing lightly. He had already unfasted his seatbelt with a click, opened the door, and, as he spoke, was climbing out into the torrential rain. Feeling a chill from the wind, Sylvie quickly leant over to shut the door closed as soon as he was out.

Not far behind in another car, Maiza had almost swerved off the road to avoid rear-ending them. Elmer gave he and the others an energetic wave, followed by a thumbs up to indicate that nothing was wrong with the vehicle, followed by no further answers to the numerous other questions they might have had. He ducked in front of the car and began to inspect the ground underneath and around it.

“Ah-ha!” Spotting the thing, fortunately still squirming, he half-dove-half-slipped down to the gravel, mud and snow, to lay on his stomach and dig around under the car. At this point Nile had gotten out to see what the fuss was about, but watching Elmer’s actions was not providing him with any explanation.

— Until he returned to his feet a minute or so later, now cradling a mud-soaked creature in his arms. Or perhaps less cradling, being that this was Elmer, and tender care was not his strong suit. Perhaps more waving wildly in the air.

He spotted Nile through the downpour and yelled over, “Hey ol’ pal, any chance you’ve got some spare bandages?” He strode over to their car, mud-soaked himself. “You must carry them with you, right? ‘Case you unravel?”

No one would be able to say how deeply Nile frowned beneath his mask; no one would be able to say how loudly he sighed beneath the drumming rain. Despite his imperceptible exasperation, he soon confirmed that Elmer’s assumption was correct. With a wave of his hand, he motioned for him to come closer, and he pulled the trunk open.

“Allow me to clarify:” he said. “You risked our safety for a rabbit?”

“That’s right!” Elmer nodded, shaking some water from his hair. He climbed into the back of the car, where a couple of Phil’s vessels were sat staring at him curiously. He turned to show the rabbit off to them, and their stares became ever more curious.

“I saw him dash in front of us and I‌ thought he might’ve gotten scratched up —” From the looks of it, its back leg had been caught under one of the tires; it was bent at an odd angle, and further inspection now that the rain had washed off most of the mud revealed bleeding. It wriggled a bit in Elmer’s hands, but did not seem especially intent on escaping his grasp. He gave the rabbit a gentle pat, and its ear twitched. “Bunnies are such happy little fellas. Didn’t seem right to just leave him without checking.”

“You’ve certainly got a unique sense of right and wrong,” Maiza chuckled from the driver’s seat.‌ “Most people would prioritise the convoy of people over the rabbit, but…”

“Well, sure, even I know that! If we were normal people it’d be different… But none of you were really in danger,” he explained, nonchalant. “I‌ mean, if one of us died, that’s no big deal, but a dead rabbit — like, a dead dead rabbit, that would be really sad, right? That’d definitely ruin the mood of the rest of the trip.‌ I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I say this: we would not have known about the rabbit, dead or alive, hurt or otherwise, had you not stopped the car. I do not see how it would have impeded on our good cheer.” Nile grunted and threw a satchel his way. Elmer caught it with a grin, then rummaged through it to pull out a handful of cloth bandages.

“But, but, hear me out: a living rabbit — that’s not just not sad, that’s got the potential to be a really happy thing, right?” He tore a bandage in half with his teeth and began wrapping it around the rabbit’s leg. He hardly paid attention as he did, chattering on and tending to the wound as though out of mechanical memory. “Who wouldn’t smile at the thought of having an adorable new pet?”

“I say this: the animal belongs in the wild. You would do well to release it after you are finished.”

“Aww, c’mon, look at him,” came his plea. “Tell me you don’t feel so happy you could melt.”

“I will tell you, then: I do not.”

“You’ll warm up to him eventually,” said Elmer dismissively, tying off the excess bandage. After a second he continued: “Anyway, I think we should call him ‘Huey’.”

“You would name this small creature after that scoundrel?”

He hummed in affirmation. “I used to say he was like a dense bunny.”

“May I remind you: he is a known terrorist.”

“He can be both.”‌ He shrugged. “Besides, you never know – what if this little guy is a terrorist, too? Should we interrogate him? Hm?” With this, he turned his attention to the rabbit, squishing his nose against its face so that he could meet it eye-to-eye, and cooing: “Are you a little scoundrel?‌ Are you hatching evil plots, eh?”

Then he practically flung the rabbit in Nile’s face. “What do you think? Are his eyes full of secrets?”

He said nothing for a moment. He stared at the rabbit, then answered reluctantly: “I concede: those are the eyes of an innocent. He is no scoundrel.”

“So we can take him with us?”

“I‌ say this: I am not your keeper,” he said, taking the satchel and tossing it back into the trunk. “Leave me be and do what you will.”

Elmer took this as a win. He thanked Nile for the bandages and hopped out of their car, leaving the space a good bit messier than he found it. 

“Do you think he knows he won’t be able to take a wild rabbit on the plane when we go back home?” Maiza asked, good humour in his voice, as they watched him amble back to the other car with the rabbit tucked beneath his coat.

“It is Elmer. I say this: my worry is that he will be able to.”

Elmer returned to the driver’s seat, dragging in mud and rainwater. He set the rabbit on his lap, and set his slightly-blood-stained hands on the steering wheel. Sylvie looked up from her book. He smiled at her broadly. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but shook her head and said nothing instead.

“I found a bunny,” said Elmer, gesturing with a nod.

“I‌ saw,” she said, returning to her book. 

“Do you like it?“

“I suppose it’s sweet,” she replied, mostly in earnest. “As long as it doesn’t have rabies.”

“If you smile I’ll let you hold him!“ 

“I’ll pass on that one, but I will smile,” she assured him. “If you promise to clean this car before we return it.”

[currebunz]

Wearing nothing but a smile Ch 5

AO3 Link

Classes had continued, while you waited for your costume. Surprisingly, your classmates were rather colorful and warmed up to you nicely. That made it all the harsher when the Sports Festival came around. Ectoplasm had briefly explained the Sports Festival. "I could go on, but it's easier for you to experience it first hand" he explained. The class fluctuated with excitement and despair. You found yourself being less than excited for the event. "Hey, hey, isn't it interesting?" Hado circled your desk excitedly. Of course, she somehow remained chipper despite the situation. "We get to show off in front of everyone!" she gleamed, leaning on your desk. "It's too much..." you heard Amajiki groan from behind you. Another expected reaction.

You paused for a moment. Anytime now...

"I think it's a swell chance to show off too!" there it is. Togata appeared before you with his usual smile. "That's great and all, but we barely have control over our quirks" you argued. Hado puffed her cheeks in a pout, Togata nodding in agreement. "But that makes it all the more interesting, we get to show our progress so far" he explained. You understood, but you hadn't thought you made much progress. You didn't mention that Togata had made little to none either. Even Amajiki was still struggling. You had yet to really see Hado use her quirk, or at least anything other than the small burst she could create.

"It's going to be on live tv, our parents will be watching too" Hado returned to her giddy self quickly. Amajiki let out a pained groan from behind you. "At this rate, Amajiki won't make it to the festival grounds" you sighed.

The first year grounds had fewer spectators than you had expected. Amajiki was put at ease by this until Hado reminded him of the cameras. Togata was still as energetic as ever. Somehow, you hoped it would rub off on you. Your class joined up with the others, playful banter and jealous glares were shared as you awaited the opening announcements. However, your mind was elsewhere. You had lined with Amajiki, Hado, and Togata. And yet, you ended up with in front with Togata behind you. The feeling of someone staring at you was evident. You looked over your shoulder and met Togata's blue eyes. He didn't even pretend like he wasn't staring at you.

You faced forward again, you weren't getting in trouble over this! The announcement ended and the first trial began. To start, there would be an obstacle course. What an interesting way to start. The crowd of students became a large mess as everyone lined up near the exit. You found yourself close to the front. Already, you could tell there would be build up. As soon as the horn blasted, everyone took off running. You leaped atop the shoulders of those in front and jumped ahead. You didn't bother with looking back, there were no teams this time.

You were one of the few to break through, the mess of students continued to push and sway. Upon exiting, Present Mic announced the upcoming obstacle. Two giant robots emerged from the field, locking onto your small group. Without a second thought, you ran underneath them. Thankfully, someone's quirk caught there attention so you could slip by. You released a sigh of relief.

The next obstacle became a problem. A large muddy field stretched yards ahead. You stopped before it, there had to be some trick involved. You watched as the others trudged through it, some falling in. "Woah! Better look out for those pitfalls!" Present Mic warned over the announcement. Of course, like it wasn't already a pain. You jumped on top of the shoulders of your classmates again. You were able to ride them over half on the course, but soon you were out of stepping stones. You had to act quickly, otherwise, you'd have to trudge through the mud too. You clenched your teeth, there was no avoiding it.

Activating your right arm, you quickly swiped at the mud in front of you. With your left arm activated, you ejected it out on top of the students behind you. Hopefully, you were quick enough and no one noticed. You blanched at the earthy taste of mud, spitting as you ran. Now was not the time to get sick. You heard screams and groans behind you, at least you slowed some of them down.

The last obstacle took you by surprise. It appeared to be a solid glass wall. You thought about breaking through it, but that would be too easy. From behind, you heard shouting as the more aggressive students prepared to attack the wall. You moved to a safe range as they assaulted the wall. However, their attacks left no damage to the wall. You felt along it and noticed a dip in the surface. You stepped through, running into another wall. "A glass maze?!" you cried out. The others seemed just as distraught about it. Suddenly, everyone began entering and going this way and that way. You tried to feel your way through. Unfortunately, you were having more trouble than the others.

A few students managed to get through without trouble, you were not one. That was when you heard someone call out to you. "Hey ____!" you turned around and saw Togata had caught up. You watched as he ran up to the wall. "Wait! It's a-" you didn't have the chance to finish. Togata's phased through the wall, tripping slightly and disappearing for a moment. He reappeared next to you, laughing nervously. "Whoops! I meant to just go straight through" he apologized. You heard several girls scream and cover their eyes. You had already expected this and dashed ahead. "Thanks, Togata!" you called back to him. You didn't think he could hear you as he apologized to the girls and tried to look for his pants.

But he did. Among his embarrassment, Togata couldn't help but smile.

You made it to the finish line, among the first ten students to arrive. The rest trickled in, Hado passed through with a smile. "Hey! Hey! You made it before me!" Hado bounced up to you at first glance. You both waited patiently, watching Amajiki pass through nearly out of breath. He collapsed against the wall, remaining out of sight as they announced him entering. "Heya slowpoke" Hado teased, poking his shoulder. Your eyes narrowed at the entrance, Togata had been right behind you. "Where's Togata?" you asked. Amajiki seized up as if remembering something. "He said he was going to look for his pants, I haven't seen him since" Amajiki explained.

That left a sour taste in your mouth, at this rate, he would be last. You all waited until Togata finally ran through. Thankfully, he wasn't the last to make it. "Finally made it!" he gasped, bending forward and resting on his knees. "Hey Togata, you gotta hear this! ____ made the top ten!" Hado announced. "Nejire!" you hissed. Togata looked up at you with a big smile. "No way! Good job!" his praise felt oddly uplifting. "It's not that impressive..." you trailed off. You didn't want to admit you were actually glad to place that high. Your moment of celebration came to an end, it was time for the next objective. Midnight came on stage and announced the next game.

The next game was Tug of war. Teams up to 6 members could participate, leaving you to choose who would be on your team. Without hesitation, Hado announced she would be on your team. "You're really strong of course I would join your team!" she explained. As comforting as it was, you still were unsure if you two would be enough. "Count us in too!" Togata pulled Amajiki over to you and Hado. "All we need is two more people..." you looked around as the other teams were getting together. Your eyes locked onto two students from your class. Thankfully, they joined your team without delay.

With your team of six, you were pit against another group. They looked tough, mostly made up of guys. "Okay, let's strategize" you began. In the front, Kukai, would use her clouds to offer resistance. Mekurashi was second, using his paper to tie him to the stage floor. Hado was third, she offered to burst herself backward if needed. Tamaki stood fourth to last, he didn't have anything in mind to help. You and Togata were in the rear, you calmed yourself as he was standing too close. Everyone agreed to make him the anchor since he was the biggest. You helped tie the rope around his waist before lining up in front of him. You could feel your back on his chest, his breath beat across the back of your neck.

Focus, you needed to focus.

Cementoss blew the whistle and both teams commenced pulling. You felt the rope pull away from you, eliciting panic. "This isn't working!" you growled through gritted teeth. Kukai was nearly over the edge, the clouds only slowing it down. "They have a mutant type on their side..." Mekurashi grumbled while he continued to create paper. "No fair!" you heard Hado whine as she tried to weigh the rope down. Amajiki, to the best of his ability, was being yanked forward. "Look at that! Both teams are really giving their all, but the edge is clear!" Present Mic's commentary only clarified your worry.

"We need another tactic" you yelled to Togata. "What do you have in mind?" even he was straining to keep the rope in his grasp. You let go of the rope and ran around Togata. "Hold on to me, I have an idea" you turned your back to Togata and brought your arms in front of you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. "What's this? It looks like they are up to something yo!" Present Mic brought all attention to your team with his comment. You activated your quirk, causing your arms to become large claws and dug them into the ground. The rope jerked, halting its movement. "Togata, Move with me! Everyone pull with everything you got!" you ordered.

You began a slow crawl, digging your claws with each movement. The rope was slowly coming to your side, you were winning! "Amazing! ____'s quirk is really giving her a hand! What do you say?" Present Mic's praise reached your ears. Suddenly, stopped. That's right, this was being broadcasted live on television. Everyone was watching, everyone could see your arms. You let out a shaky gasp as you deactivated your quirk, the sudden changed caused the other team to fly back with the rope. You were flung backward into Togata.

"And that's the match! Team B wins!" Present Mic shouted. You ignored the cheers as you curled up to cover yourself. It was too late, everyone saw it. You had been to caught up in the moment, where were your bandages? You felt Togata sit up, looking down at you worriedly. "Are you okay?" he asked. You were to upset to speak, shaking your head as you hung it low. Togata lifted you in his arms and ran off to Recovery Girls's office. "Mirio" Amajiki glanced at Hado, she was also visibly upset. The two decided to follow, ignoring the set up for the next match.

You clung to Togata's jersey, trying to calm yourself. The beating of your heart echoed loudly in your ears. What would you do now? How could you face anyone after them seeing how disgusting your arms looked? You felt Togata's stop and open the door. "Hello there, do you have an injury?" Recover Girl hopped off her chair and greeted you both. "She isn't feeling well" Togata explained, reluctantly setting you down on the nearest bed. Recovery Girl walked over to you and looked you over. "Say ah," she asked as she held up a flashlight. "A-a...a-h" you managed to open your mouth slightly. She felt your forehead and glanced at your arms. You reflexively tried to cover yourself up. "Togata-chan, can you bring me those bandages?" she asked. Togata nodded, walking over to the cabinet where the bandages were.

As he returned, Amajiki and Hado entered in. "Oh my gosh! Are you like, alright?" Hado ran to the bed to look at you. Her gaze felt even more intruding at this moment. "Hado, give her some space" Amajiki spoke from his place near the door. Even now, he was a great distance away from you. "Here you go" Togata handed Recovery Girl the bandages. She took them and began bandaging your arms back up. "You'll be fine dear, just take a moment to relax" Recovery Girl reassured you. Togata felt restless ad he watched you breathe slowly, he had to ask. "What happened? Why did you suddenly stop?" he asked.

"I....I don't want to show anyone my arms..." you confessed. "I know it's just my quirk, but they are awful looking" you continued. Recovery girl remained quiet, though her brows furrowed as you talked. "Hideous, disgusting, monstrous things..." you felt tears prick at your eyes as you spoke. You stared at the red splotchy flesh under the darker skin vainly. If only you could...

"Don't say that!" Togata yelled. He clenched his fists tightly, resting them on the edge of the bed. You stared at Togata in shock, so did Amajiki. "Your quirk isn't disgusting, you saved me remember?" Togata smiled brightly as he spoke. "We don't get to choose our quirks, but it's up to us to choose how we use them" he continued. He reached for your un-bandaged hand, grasping it despite you shifting away from him. "Go ahead and activate your quirk" he said. You hesitated before allowing your arm to transform into a larger claw. Togata pressed your palm to his cheek and smiled. "Your palm is very soft, warm too!" he laughed.

Recovery Girl was smiling as she continued to bandage you. On the other hand, you had tears rolling down your face as you looked at Togata. "You really think so?" you hiccuped. He nodded, nuzzling into your palm. "Feels nice~" he hummed. Hado had a hand to her mouth, holding back her laughter. "How shameless Togata" she snickered. Amajiki watched quietly, he was surprised at how forward Togata was being. "Togata...you're kind of sweaty so..." you began shyly. Your tears had dried up, you were starting to feel more at ease. Togata perked up, pulling your hand from his face. "Sorry, I must taste awful right now" he laughed. You shook your head, giving your hand to Recovery Girl. "It's just a bit salty, at least you aren't naked this time," you said. Togata nodded, remembering the time you first met.

At that time, he had made a fool of himself by losing his clothes. You had to cover him, literally. Togata was really impressed by your hands...wait. Togata wore a puzzled expression as he looked at your hand. "Is everything all right?" you asked. Togata never looked so serious before. Suddenly, it hit him. "Ah! Y-yeah! I'm right! A-alright that is!" he began to panic. Togata's face blushed bright red as he tried to explain himself. Amajiki rested his head on the wall while you covered your mouth with your hand.

He just figured it out.

[chemicalmagecraft]

The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 18

"I promise I'll be careful," I told my mom before heading out.

"And I'll record the whole thing for you!"

"Thanks!" Before I left, Yang meowed and butted her head on my leg. I chuckled and rubbed her head, causing her to purr. "See you later, girl."

xoxoxo

Security was upped for the sports festival. I was mostly fine getting through because I had a student ID, but there were still some precautions. I saw some pro heroes on my way to the stadium, too. Everyone was tense as we changed into our gym uniforms. It was to be expected. Not only was the event televised, but our careers as heroes may have depended on how well we did. No pressure.

"We will be entering the stadium soon everyone!" Iida shouted when we were all in the waiting room. "Please prepare yourselves physically and mentally!"

"Midoriya," a voice that I only partially recognized said.

"What's up, Todoroki?" I asked him.

He glared at me. "You may have your magic and you may have some kind of support from All Might, but I plan to beat you." He turned around and started to walk away.

"The fuck's your problem, Half-'n-half?" Kacchan asked.

"Yeah, what's with the declaration of war?" Kirishima asked.

"Todoroki," I said. He stopped for a moment. "I'm aiming for the top too," I told him. He scoffed and walked away.

xoxoxo

To be honest I probably would have been very nervous if it weren't for Gamer's Mind. There were just so many people in the stands... I guess maybe between the USJ incident and the fact that it was known generally that the discoverer of magic was in 1-A, the first-year festival was the place to be. I made sure to look confident when we were walking in. I even used Hawkeye because I was technically allowed to for what I hoped was added impressiveness. Present Mic introduced each of the classes as they entered the field to thunderous applause.

Midnight-sensei, who was acting as referee, brandished her... whip thing. "Now for the pledge, we have Bakugou Katsuki from 1-A!"

Kacchan walked up to the podium and took the mic. "Gonna keep this brief, 'cause I'm pretty sure none of you are here to listen to me talk. I'm going to be aiming for the top." He looked sternly at all of the classes assembled. "If any of you aren't gonna do the same, you'd freaking better have a good reason." Oh thank goodness he didn't rile up the other classes too much. The people in the stands cheered at his speech, short as it was. I even saw some people from the other classes grinning.

Ding!

A quest has been created!

Sports Festival

The Yuuei sports festival is the biggest event of the year! You'd better do your best!

Completion: ?, Further rewards dependent on how well you do

I figured I'd get a quest at some point... It was interesting that there weren't any losing conditions, though. I guess it'd be a win even if I lost in the first round, though I'd lose out on anything that wasn't the question mark if I did that. Speaking of the first round...

"Give it up for Bakugou, ladies and gents!" Midnight said. "Now, let's get on with the first event!" She raised her whip, and a giant holoscreen appeared in the air above her. It cycled through a few different things before settling on the obstacle race.

"I guess it's going to be an obstacle course," I muttered, grinning. I could probably do pretty well in an obstacle course with my powerset.

xoxoxo

I did a few stretches while we waited at the start of the course. Everyone was in front of a large hallway that looked like it was supposed to bottleneck us if we all rushed through it, which we probably would considering the fact that it was a race.

"Oh my gosh, Deku! What's wrong with your spine!?" Uraraka shouted at me.

"Huh?" I looked down. Oh. My body was twisted almost all the way around. Yeah that probably looked bad.

"Spines are not supposed to do that," Tsu added, a little greener than usual.

"Sorry," I said, untwisting myself. "Forgot how flexible I got from getting the next DEX benchmark..."

"We're starting soon!" Iida shouted.

"Sorry."

The countdown started. "Begin!" Midnight shouted when it reached zero. A low hum came from me as I activated Sonic Aura. Lightning Aura would've been faster, but at the same time it might've hurt someone in the close quarters. It wasn't for long, though. I ran and jumped with all of my strength, landing on a platform made by Halitus in midair. Without wasting a moment, I switched to Lightning and shot forward.

At my top speed, I was easily able to outpace the slowed crowd, dropping back down when I was ahead of everyone. I did notice Kacchan and Uraraka flying behind me, though. Because I was so ahead of everyone else, I was the first to notice hordes of robots waiting on the other side of the bottleneck, with three giant ones in the middle. It looked like they were recycling the robots from the entrance exam. I jumped between a series of air platforms, the final one lining me up perpendicular to the center of one of the zero-pointers. I jumped at it with everything I had, using Fire Dash to propel myself even more. Just before I hit the robot, I switched to Magma Aura for more power and durability and created a lightning-enhanced spiked gauntlet to punch it with for extra piercing damage. I distantly heard Mic-sensei commenting about me.

The zero-pointer fell and I rode it down in the crater I'd punched in it. When it was done falling, I reached out for a bit of the robot's metal hull that was less heated than where I'd hit it and was by the robot's head a moment later. I'd promised myself to not overuse Elemental Embodiment because of how broken Sonic Embodiment in particular could be in a race with how it might as well be a short-range teleport with how it worked, but I was fine with a momentary use of Lightning Embodiment. I used the momentum I somehow still had after downgrading to Lightning Aura to race past the robots. For the most part I didn't bother fighting them. I was just fast enough that they couldn't really catch me, and I guess they were programmed to not chase any students who got through them. I did disable a few for EXP, though, and one robot...

I got an idea as I was approaching a two-pointer. It looked like it would just barely fit. I pointed at it, and Raimon appeared on top of it. He placed his hands on it, causing it to retract its limbs and make itself as small as possible. I opened my inventory, made it go as wide as I could make it, and rammed into the two-pointer inventory first. Luckily I was right and it disappeared in front of me, sucked into my inventory. I'd have to ask about bringing it back out in the middle of a game, but it seemed like a good ace up my sleeve.

I made it to the next obstacle with a huge gap between me and the rest of the contestants. Kacchan, Uraraka, and Todoroki were closer, but there was still some distance between us. I stared at the gaping hole in the ground in front of me, then at the stone pillars with tightropes connecting them. "There is no way they did this without a lot of earth mages," I muttered. "And how did nobody see this giant chasm by the arena? I guess it doesn't matter, though. What matters for now..." I gathered air mana on my back. "Is getting across." Because the sports festival was an opportunity to impress the hero agencies of Japan, I'd decided to not use the same few tricks over and over again. And so the air mana I was gathering formed into great wings of swirling green air. "Halcyon Wing," I intoned. I flapped them once, sending up a cloud of dust before the air stilled unnaturally. After seeing Kacchan use Fire Dash and Uraraka gravity magic to fly, I'd decided to find a way for people to fly using any element. Much like how people with healing Quirks were almost always given priority for medical training assuming they were competent enough for medical work, competent and powerful enough fliers were practically assured to get into hero schools simply on account of how useful flight is in hero work. Having flight as a relatively easily teachable skill seemed like the sort of thing that would be very useful for heroes in general. My favorite of the flight spells I'd made was an air spell, Halcyon Wing. It was a little costly, but it looked so pretty and had the ability to calm the surrounding air.

I jumped as high as I could, then flapped my wings. As a side effect of its air-calming, Halcyon Wing reduced the amount the air resisted my passage, making me fly even faster. A few students shot some generic spells at me, but I was easily able to dodge them. I dropped onto a tree on the other side of the obstacle and undid my wings. They unraveled in a shower of feathers that I grabbed with my magic, causing them to swirl around me. I used up a few of the feathers to chop off the branch I was standing on, then started using bio magic on the branch as it fell back onto the course. It grew into a small tree with an unusual root system, which drove itself into the ground in four parts like legs. I gripped onto the tree's trunk, using a thickened branch as a foothold. Bio magic was really fun once you got used to it. I made my tree walker go forward and, now that I was going slower, started listening to the commentary.

"And Midoriya's still in the lead, now with some weird plant thing!" Mic-sensei shouted.

"That's probably his bio magic," Aizawa-sensei said. "Among other things, he can use it to alter the shape of and control plants. To be honest it just looks like he's showing off now."

"To be fair, isn't that the point of the sports festival?"

Aizawa-sensei shrugged. "I suppose. And speaking of showing off, it looks like Todoroki's using some kind of ice platform and probably ice magic to fly over the chasm. That's certainly one way to do it."

I came up on the final obstacle of the race, the minefield. I'd seen it with Hawkeye while I was flying, which was why I'd made the tree walker. Though I was paying for that now, as Kacchan, Todoroki, and Uraraka were approaching behind me. I lengthened my walker's roots and increased the amount of mana I was using to make it walk, letting it go faster. I also gave it a Speed Up and started preparing a backup plan for when they caught up. Because of my walker's thin roots, it was able to step around the mines, and for the few that it stepped on in my rush, its roots were sufficient enough to not get blown away, which was why I'd used four legs in the first place.

"Damn it Deku, you won't win that easily!" Kacchan shouted from behind me. He and Todoroki were approaching quickly, with Uraraka just a bit behind them. I shot my remaining feathers in front of them, blowing up the mines. They were still gaining, though, so I pushed my walker even faster, then switched spells when they were just barely behind me. Jets of steam burst from my hands and feet, propelling me forwards and blowing the two back into some mines. I hit the ground running, keeping ahead of the others. With the lead I'd given myself, I was able to run to the end without anyone passing me.

"AND IN FIRST PLACE WE HAVE MIDORIYA IZUKU!" Mic-sensei shouted. The crowd was cheering for me. I grinned at All Might, who I saw smiling at me in the stands.

xoxoxo

"The next game of the sports festival will be a cavalry battle!" Midnight-sensei announced once everyone was back in the stadium. That was kind of good for me. I'd had an idea for a spell about a week ago that I thought I wouldn't be able to use in the sports festival because it was pretty much only useful on allies. The display changed to show what looked like the points each of the people who made it got, sorted by position. I looked at number one, for the point total I had. Ten million. It looked like there was a bonus for getting in first place, because up until first the points increased by five per position. "Here's how it works! The points of each member of the teams will be added together and put on a headband, which will be worn by your rider. You're supposed to steal those headbands, which is how you get points. Those headbands must be worn from the neck up, so getting a lot will get annoying fast. And of course, the person to beat is Midoriya, with ten million points! Whoever has that by the end is pretty much assured to get to the next round!"

"Oh," I said. Shit. That was not good. I had a giant target on my back now, or rather my forehead.

"You guys will have fifteen minutes to find your team and come up with a plan, starting now. Have fun!"

I gulped. My work would certainly be cut out for me. Even with my powers, the whole "everyone will be gunning out for you if you team up with me" thing sounded like it would make it hard to find willing teammates... I tried a few people, but they all shied away.

"Are you still looking for teammates, Deku?" Uraraka asked me from behind.

I turned around. "Are you sure about this, Uraraka? N-not that I'm not grateful, but I'm pretty sure just about everyone will be going after us because I got first last round..."

She nodded, a determined look on her face. "And that makes it even better! Everyone's eyes are gonna be on our team, so I'll definitely get noticed if I'm on your team!" She seemed to realize how what she said could be taken and blushed a bit. "Not that I don't want to help you, Deku! It's just... you know..."

I smiled. "Yeah, I get it. Come on, I think I know who else we can use." I scanned the crowd for a moment and almost immediately spotted him. I ran over to him. "Iida! If it's not too much of a bother, would you like to be on my team?"

He hesitated for a moment, then gave one of his deep bows. "I'm sorry, Midoriya. It's just... I don't want to be in your shadow for the sports festival."

I nodded. "I understand. I'll go try and find someone else." I walked away a bit.

"How did it go?" Uraraka asked, having just caught up to me.

I shook my head. "Iida didn't want to be in our group. We need to find someone else." I looked at the countdown. Half the time was up already. "And we should probably do it fast."

"Oh, so you need another person?" a loud voice said. "Well that's perfect!" I turned around to see a girl with pink dreadlocks wearing a pair of steampunk-ish goggles on her forehead. Her yellow eyes had crosshairs on them. "The name's Hatsume Mei, and I'm your answer! With my babies you'll be sure to win!"

"What's with the support gear?" Uraraka asked. "Aren't we not supposed to have them?"

"You're a support student, right?" I asked. "And I'm guessing your... 'babies' are support items?"

She grinned wider and got up in my face. "Oh, you're a smart one! Yes, of course my babies are wonderful, wonderful gadgets that heroes across the globe will use! Eventually. And everyone's eyes will be on you, the holder of the ten million points, so if I show off my babies in your team I'm sure to get good rep!"

I smiled, but backed up a bit. "Having some support gear will be awesome." I had an idea. "Actually, I just thought of something. We'll need another person, and I'll probably have to talk to Midnight-sensei about this, but... Hatsume!"

"Yes!?"

"I'll use my magic to help, but we might need to make temporary modifications to your babies, is that okay?"

She nodded energetically. "Of course, so long as you can put them back. I'd also love to see magic being used! I might be able to make even better babies!"

"Good. And I'll also try to teach you a spell I learned recently that lets me see magic, because to be honest I really wanna see that. You might be able to do it relatively easily, if your Quirk is eye-based like I'm assuming." She cackled and nodded. "And finally, how good are you at hacking?"

She rubbed her hands together. "Adopting a new baby? I like the sound of this."

"Isn't it more like kidnapping and brainwashing someone else's baby?" Uraraka asked, poking her chin.

"We've got a lot of work to do," I said, "but if we split up we should be able to get done on time."

[wickednerdery]

Title: Taste Author: @wickednerdery​​ Fandom: Tolkien/The Hobbit Pairing/character: Thranduil/Reader Rating: FRM Summary: “...I was curious of your taste.” Notes: This started as a random, vague, thought in my head and grew like a damned forest fire....There’s been a LOT of damn fine Lee Pace/Thranduil stuff on my dash recently, lol!! …Anyway gets a “Read More” cut because it’s NSFW and long (if you wanna get right to the dirty stuff, just skip to the second half, haha), lol!

It’d been long since I had the feeling of an outsider in my own home, but here it returned, strengthened, as the Elves of Mirkwood whispered about the firen among their guests. Some spoke in interest, some in worry, others insult, but all were careful to avoid me as a being. There would be no direct acknowledgement of my existence until the Elvenking had his say in it.

His statement was short; a cold raking of eyes over my body, a sigh, and a declaration to begin the feast of Ethuil.

After the feast there was wine and music and singing and dancing and I escaped it all to settle just beyond the walls to take in the night sky. These were not my people, but neither was Man. As a child I wondered what had made me so undesirable to the Edain that I would be left to die...at least with the Elves I knew. I did not shine, I did not flow or float through existence as they did. No matter how skilled, how poised, I was for my own kind I would always be flawed for theirs. And, one day, I would grow old and die.

“You are not attending my festivities.” The voice was glass-smooth, deep as a cave. “You do me great dishonor.” He hissed slightly in the last word so that I shivered into my turn.

He stood tall as an Anod with silken white hair and skin that shone in the moonlight. Rarely did I pay much mind to the appearance of Elves these days, but the king seemed beyond others of his kind. In iced eyes I gave up my voice in favor of controlling my body, denying myself the urge to touch what was forbidden.  

“You dare refuse to speak to a king?” He switched to the common tongue, perhaps thinking I could not speak Sindarin.

“Forgive me, your highness,” I lowered my head, snapped back into reality. “I did not dare to dream one such as yourself would speak to me.”

His breath suggested pleasure at my words, but his message was the same. “You are not attending my festivities. What am I to take from this?”

I raised my head, but not my eyes. “I fear am I not welcome. Not...not by you, your majesty, but by others. I do not belong, I know this. I did not wish to become a distraction to your celebration.” The words were placation, but only in their delivery. I knew I was a distraction, I knew I did not belong, and I did fear that I was unwelcome by at least some of the revelers.

“Look at me, Adaneth.” Thranduil ordered, I obeyed. “Your people are my guests, therefore you are my guest. I will not have my guests in an un-festive manner on the feast of Ethuil, it does not bode well for the new year.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

The Elvenking’s lips flicked up, then he began to lean. Down. In. The smell of fresh trees and wildflowers filled my nose as his breath became a cool breeze on my cheek. Once pressed, however, his lips were warm. Warm and soft and he turned into stars as everything around us went black.

I awoke wrapped in silk with the sensation of feathery clouds beneath. The only light came from the moon and the man settled as if upon his throne before me. “I am accustomed to the behaviors of the males of your race,” he soothed out. “But, tell me, do the females faint with frequency?”

His delivery was either in earnest or poorly executed jest and left me unsure how to answer. I begged forgiveness. “Goheno nin, Aran Thranduil.” I examined the bed born from a tree I’d been lain in, I examined the similar chair Thranduil lounged in, but I dare not look at the Elvenking.

“Are you frightened?”

“Ashamed.”

In a single, swift, move he was on the bed beside me. “Look at me.” I did. “Do not hide your shame from me again, Adaneth.”

“Yes, your highness.”

He closed in and I focused only on remaining still, with eyes open, as Thranduil’s scent again threatened to overwhelm. My breath held as soft lips again hit my skin; this time I could feel the warmth of them spread through me, pool in my belly. In his draw back his head tilted with interest and I saw it was a test, though of what was not clear.

“You smell, taste, of Ennor, is this always so?”

I shrugged, unsure what to make of the statement or the question that followed it. Elves could sense things I never could and their tastes were not always the same. I could not discern if this was a compliment, insult, or merely commentary...and I dared not presume any should I risk offense.

Thranduil leaned in, my breath held, and he paused. “Do you wish not to be kissed?

“I wish not to faint,” I blurted the confession so that his lips curled in amusement.

“Worry not, frail child, I would catch you as before.”

Reassuring hands cupped my face, added chill to compliment the heat of his mouth, as it sought and caught mine. While there were thousands of years experience to his actions, there was testing too. The kiss growing hard, demanding submission, before lightening into a tease, then back to dominating again. His tongue ran along my lips only to brush past in search of my tongue, teasing it, tempting it to follow his movements. He tasted heavily of wine and berried sweets.

I shuddered as a hand traveled down from face to collarbone to breast, whimpered when it pulled away. The iciness of his eyes thawed only to be replaced by a blue blaze as the tips of his fingers returned. There was a rush that soared through my veins, set bumps across my flesh, and propelled my lips to his.

Even in taking the initiative there was no doubting the king was in charge. The king whose touch turned into grab, grope, massage as nipples grew hard against the soft fabric that separated his skin from mine. The king who, so swift I cannot remember how, put me on my back with thighs spread to cradle his body. The king who, in a single rut across my body, released an excitement from within that I’d never felt.

A gasp escaped at the sudden wetness between my thighs, the stick of my slip against the back of my legs. His arousal was undeniable, pressing, grinding, against my pelvis. My hands fumbled to unclasp and unknot his tunic, expose marble skin to my hungry mouth; his hands tore, as if my gown were fân, and I arched when his mouth devoured bare breasts.

Perhaps I should have asked why - why me, why now - but I dared not speak lest I break the spell.

With hands moving up my dress, grazing across slowly exposed skin, Thranduil continued down the terrain of my body. His tongue, teeth, lips devoted itself to every peak and valley to be found until mouth met hands at the hips. “Edro.” He ordered and I obeyed.

“Gods!” I cried as his tongue slipped between my folds, flicked against the bundle of nerves only my own hands had touched before. The reaction pleased him as his cool laugh chilled before he repeated the act. My legs attempted to close in the overwhelming rush of his ministrations, but his hands quickly took the option from me. He held me down, still, opened wide for him to do as he pleased...as I pleased, begging to him and the Valar and every being in existence for him to never stop.

The heat of his mouth attended to my clit, kissing softly, then suckling at it, before letting cool air brush across it so that I risked jumping. His tongue lapped at my juices, drew teasingly around my entry, before dipping in to taste my arousal from its source.

I mewled, a hint of discomfort mixing with the pleasure, as a slickened finger replaced the tip of his tongue. My hips rolled on instinct; my desire fell to need as another finger stretched me. I could not speak, could not think, beyond my gasping arousal. The flame begun in my belly turned raging fire that spread throughout, drove tension into my muscles, flooded my cunt and thighs.

I saw nothing, heard nothing, as the blackness and stars threatened to take me over again. I felt only Thranduil - his fingers caressing a place inside I’d never known existed, his mouth tasting every ounce of me, his breath causing shudders - and my own heart pounding against my ribs. I arched in a high gasp, gripped the king’s sheets, and shook with such intensity I feared something was wrong with me.

As quickly as I was overwhelmed, I was relaxed in a way I’d not experienced before. I felt as if I finally understood the word bliss in its truest form. There was a whimper in my panting as the king pulled his fingers from me and I was left hollow.

“Thuio,” he reminded softly, sternly, as he settled to lay beside me. “I cannot abide you losing consciousness with every contact we make.”

My next exhale was a small laugh, then I grew hopeful. “There will be more?”

“Not tonight.” I frowned and it was his turn to laugh. “We’ve been gone from the festivities far too long.”

“What about you? Your desire?”

He kissed my forehead, then my lips, softly. “My desire is under my control.” It was a gentle reassurance before he stood and took care to reassemble his flawless appearance. “I will send someone with a new gown for you, do not worry or rush...you’ve fainted, remember?” There was a tint of a smirk to his lips.

“Thranduil...your highness?”

His brows arched expectantly.

“Why?”

“I told you, Adaneth, I was curious of your taste.”

He gave a long, slow, bow to me and swept out the door.

This is probably just a one-shot of naughtiness, but if I think of a good follow-up I’ll write it, I’m sure. And, yes, throughout I used Elvish - specifically Sindarin, which to the best of my research/recall is what Thranduil speaks - and I’ll put the meanings of the words at the bottom for those curious...and please don’t attack if I’m wrong on these, I used a few sites and, haha, I’m not an Elvish expert, lol!

Next Pieces: Scent, Sight, Sound

Not tagging anyone, but IF I write more and you want to be tagged, just let me know.

(The gif was found on Google and edited by me.)

Word Glossary (in order of usage):

Firen - human Ethuil - Spring, the first season of the Elvish new year Edain - Man, as in the species Anod - Ent, the trees that are people in The Lord of the Rings Adaneth - Woman, as in the female of the species Man Goheno nin, Aran Thranduil - translation: Forgive me, King Thranduil Ennor - Middle-Earth, as in not just earth/dirt, lol Fân - (basically) veil of clouds Edro - the imperative of open, as in it’s a command Valar  - "angelic powers" or "gods" subordinate to the one God Thuio -the imperative of breathe, as in it’s a command

[shenmeizhuang-blog]

Do you have any cdrama suggestions for a baby beginner? I think Empress of China is the most famous one I’ve heard of but I’m curious about others too!

B-baby beginner? No, my friend, when it comes to cdrama, we simply throw you into the pit…

Just kidding! Although, for a myriad of reasons, being a Chinese drama fan outside of Asia without a hold of the language is admittedly rather difficult (so to the “international” cdrama fandom: you guys rock!). 

Unfortunately, your answer did not really help me narrow down my answer after all. I believe Moonlight Drawn By Clouds, your recent fave, is very romance-centric, but I feel like everyone tends to vacillate in their mood, preferring super romantic escapism one minute and demanding tight storytelling the next. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling and actually get to the point:

personal recs, in general*

I just couldn’t really “categorize” these?

peace hotel (2018): currently in the midst of watching this still, but I’m really enjoying this! honestly. especially with how the female chars (most of the chars are written.) it’s this mix between super suspenseful espionage and really cathartic humor. the plot twists are also so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

let’s shake it! (2017): alien crashlands to the tang dynasty! it’s super cute and quirky, but there’s also a strong, coherent plot and some angst in the latter parts. definitely one of my faves of last year, though it’s punny sense of humor doesn’t always get through. it’s also very appreciatively meta ;) the subs apparently aren’t complete, as my friend complained to me, but I personally find the language real simple

medical examiner dr. qin (2016): the interactions between the crime-solving trio are gold. also, like the only modern show here?? (as you can tell, I am really mostly a period show watcher.)

go princess go (2015-16): it’s really low-budget and cracky, but trust me, there’s a reason it went viral. zhang tian ai does feel like the saving grace a lot of the time though, and I didn’t exactly give it a high score, but it just might be your thing. who knows?

nirvana in fire (2015): i don’t think it’s the best c-drama ever, unlike a lot of people on this site, but it’s still a very solid show. I also find it a lot more shoujo than most fans—it’s really not just a revenge-political drama—but when it was emotionally gripping, boy, it was emotionally gripping. 

wuxin: the monster killer (2015): technically only season 1—I have yet to see s2—but weirdly enough, I found the poignant ending especially fitting. just assume from the title? yue qiluo is one of the more interesting villains out there, and gosh I just adore yueya so much

bu bu jing xin (2011): extremely poignant, complex look into polymagy/patriarchy during the qing dynasty from the lens of time-traveller zhang xiao who takes the identity of court lady ruoxi. even if you don’t ship any of the romances, it is so worth it for pretty much everything else. but if you do, obviously also an extremely heart-wrenching watch. a lot of people’s first cdrama. 

schemes of a beauty (2010): lots of spying, secret chambers, poison, women control the men. 

*I would want to recommend The Legend of Zhen Huan and The Glory Of Tang Dynasty, but they’re 76 episodes and 92 episodes long, respectively. Content-wise, it’s also stuff that requires lots of trigger warnings, and overall just not for the “baby beginner”. Battle of Changsha is definitely shorter, and a definite recommendation, but also just not for the “baby beginner.” 

no dubbing 

(Peace Hotel, Battle of Changsha, NiF, Medical Examiner Dr. Qin)

the advisors’ alliance (2017) + growling tiger, roaring dragon (2017-18): a mix of no dubbing and some dubbing. it’s a pretty creative to take the viewpoint of sima yi in this three kingdoms historical piece. I feel that it’s rather accessible to viewers, honestly, and the production values are great on this one. 

nothing gold can stay (2017): only 4 eps in—it’s very solid so far (74 eps though, but I would say quite mainstream and easy to watch)

ten miles of spring wind can’t compare to you (2017): do I really want to rec this though? in the end, I really did wish I had someone to vent about this to and discuss with about, because in a lot of ways this really did give lots of food for thought. let’s just say that our three main chars are deliberately rather fatally flawed…and I still feel rather ambivalent about how to feel about this. (the first 10-15 eps are super cute, meta, adorable but also with great sexual tension and then it sort of goes to melodrama but anyway…) you could at least practice your chinese? it is harder than the average modern cdrama, given how pretentious qiu shui can get

shoujo period romances

We all have a soft spot for these :’)

sound of the desert (2014): just yesterday, there was quite a lot of discourse on this show on my dash, interestingly. female lead xin yue (liu shi shi) is raised by a wolf pack, though she eventually enters the capital city sometime during the han dynasty. she does at first fall for a crippled, broody flute player played by hu ge (imo one of his more lackluster roles) but it’s her chemistry with HAWT general wei wuji (eddie peng <3) that’s even hotter than the general himself. there are some nice challenges thrown in, and xin yue and wei wuji have a really great, sizzling relationship that’s sooo worth the ride. also a lot more skinship than in most cdramas! It was actually quite strange/slightly unnerving to watch, as someone who listened to the audiobook of the original novel prior to watching but as a standalone, it should work quite well.

female prime minister/legend of lu zhen (2013): again, freakishly sizzling chemistry. it focuses more on lu zhen rising up the ranks as lower-level female ministers, but mostly still very very romance-centric. (the otp falling-out in the last 10 eps or so was kind of stupid, I will admit, and also 200% all on gao zhan but it had such a strong addictive quality to it.)

gong/jade palace lockheart (2011): I haven’t seen Boys Over Flowers/the Japanese original/any official remakes of whatever that is, but a lot of people have called it Boys Over Flowers + modern girl time travels to the Qing Dynasty + 9-prince succession conflict during Kangxi’s reign. it was rather stupid and petty at times, but it’s more comedic and the romance is super addicting. I don’t care about the half-bald Qing queues at all, and this is actually one of the only roles that I’ve found Feng Shaofeng attractive in. (yes, it is possible to love bbjx and enjoy this)

Oh yeah, and all these end all happily and fairytale-like. None of the above would qualify as my “faves” at all, but all are very accessible to someone unfamiliar with cdrama and love the Romance and the Pretty. 

others (I found rather lackluster or dropped): Perfect Couple, The Eternal Love (very popular among international audiences, but not for me), General and I, Oh My General 

wuxias/xianxias

This is just going to be an embarrassing amount of childhood nostalgia. Like, literally, with the exception of the first one, I watched all of these in elementary school, with varying amounts of rewatching in between. The recent wuxias and xianxias just haven’t been to my liking. (I could get into how NiF takes lots of wuxia elements but I would just confuse you a lot so, strictly on the more fantasy/action side of things here.) I simply haven’t watched Eternal Love/Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (very, very popular) at all. I’m sorry. 

vigilantes in masks/strange hero yi zhi mei (2011): I believe the international equivalent is “Iljimae”? It’s like Robin Hood, sort of, but mostly Liu Shi Shi’s Yan Sanniang is so amazing here. 

chinese paladin 3 (2009)

return of the condor heroes (2006)

chinese paladin (2005)

lotus lantern (2005)

also 武林外传, which is 80 eps, but kind of more like a wuxia sitcom way back in the day. there’s in-show ppls, tons of modern references, etc. and also like lots of satire/social commentary. I did a rewatch (of brief clips ofc, I don’t have that much time) recently, and realized I missed so much when I watched it with the family back then. (I’m kind of embarrassed about the more lewd references…lol…)

*line break*

Whew! Anyway, the takeaway is, there is a lot of stuff to choose from, and I definitely left out a lot of stuff. There’s also a lot of modern cdramas. This answer might clarify about those shows. 

(that being said, I really personally would not recommend empress of china. I mean, aside from 96 eps, just 2 eps in I could tell it was going to be an unsubstantial mess >_<)

[spark-took-flight]

First we give out eggs, and now we lay them? What is going on? And how can he get his servos on some notes for this information?

[lehdenlaulu]

@mlt-sw replied to your post “I generally don’t like when people being shopping drama to my dash....”

So I’m not white because I was born in Sicily by Sicilian parents? Are Italian people, French people, Spanish people, not white? Latino is culture... born among former Latin speakers, not a race.

As a fellow European, I understand your confusion. When I look at Oscar, for example, I see a guy who I might consider Greek or French or Spanish. So “white” by European standards, true enough. And the entire concept of “race” is entirely made up when it comes to biology and anthropology, as is, largely, “ethnicity“.

But since this whole debacle is centered around the North American sociopolitical atmosphere since Star Wars is an American franchise, it gets a bit more complicated. In the American context, Oscar is a Latino (bilingual native Spanish-speaker with Guatemalan immigrant roots and all) and therefore not considered “white” (the American idea of “white” is frankly something I’ve never been able to quite pinpoint, but anyway) and therefore also discriminated against with racial/ethnic stereotyping etc. You know: “fiery temperament, lazy, thuggish, irresponsible, bad parent, sexually promiscuous” etc. You can definitely argue it’s nowhere near as bad as the anti-black attitudes in the US (the ghost of slavery is still a looming dark cloud and affects daily life) and elsewhere, but it’s still very much a thing.

So, at least by American standards, Poe and Oscar are definitely considered non-white and Poe and Cassian being prominent heroic characters in Star Wars is incredibly important representation to the Latinx demographic.

(Note: I’m, again, a white European so I might not be the best person to talk about this, so I’d be grateful for any additional commentary from more knowledgeable people.)

[posterclever974]

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As a first for this release, the tarballs are available in two variants: compressed with xz and compressed with gzip. Please get the xz variant if you can to save bandwidth, the gzip version is for everyone that cannot use it. Should you never have encountered xz compressed files, newer versions of tar can uncompress it via 'tar xJf MPlayer-1.1.tar.xz'.

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Application/x-mplayer2 Chrome Download

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I needed a simple command-ling media player, and this was perfect! Extremely lightweight and very versatile. I use it for some custom clip management and window capture for streamers to use when broadcasting using the OBS Studio streaming/broadcasting software on Twitch. I take chat commands that create a text semaphore/trigger file, and when the script sees the trigger, it uses this Mplayer utility to play. I am just doing this for fun, and to help streamers offer a little something extra. if a streamer wants to rotate 8 different 'Hug' clips when a viewer runs the '!hug @somename' command in chat, there should be a utility that can launch the clips when the commands are run, then rotate the clips so if 4 or 5 people use the 'Hug' command to hug each other, it doesn't just play the same clip over and over. The fact that you can title the player window allows a streamer to have a few different windows captures set up. Maybe 1 for fullscreen clips with a chromakey filter, a regular fullscreen clip fo speciual event clips, and maybe ones for subscriber 'intro clips' they use when they join chat to announce their presence in style. Maybe another for 'accent clips/memes', so users can add commentary by launching clips at proper moments, like a '!rip' command that plays a rotation of funny 'I'm dead' clips when the streamer dies playing a game. The streamer just ads these 3 or 4 window capture sources to each scene they want clips to be available, then the script/utility launches each clip with the appropriate window title to have it play at the right size and location. I'd love to see someone actualy do this properly. I have it all working. I just needed a 'lighter' player that was flexible enough to support all the different clip types. I was using VLC Media Player, but it did noy play smoothly, often hitching/lagging for a split second when launching clips, making it seems rough and 'unfinished'. This gives a smooth and polished feel when playing the clips.

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[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Viridian Vanguard (Part 2)

Note: There’s gonna be a lotta blood and violence in this chapter, what with no Aura keeping things relatively clean in this universe.

The boundaries and barriers were set, Blake and Zwei inspected the arena for anything out of the ordinary, Ren and Nora sat at at a commentary box set up on a tree, Penny recording and powering a Fae version of a speaker system strung up around the grounds.

The crowds talked excitedly among themselves as Blake and Zwei escorted both Winter and Qrow into the arena and under the commentary box, where they were sniffed, frisked, and had the fit of their armour and helmets checked, the sharpness and strength of their swords tested.

They quieted down as Ren stood up. <Is the arena ready?> he asked.

<The arena is ready.> Blake replied, Zwei nodding with her.

<Are the combatants properly equipped?>

<The combatants are properly equipped.>

<Are the spotters ready?>

<The spotters are ready.>

Ren nodded. <Proceed to your duties.>

Blake and Zwei bowed or made a respectful gesture, before they went to opposite sides of the arena, stopped just outside the ring of shield generators and rope.

Nora stood up, she and Ren began to address Qrow and Winter, one in Actaeon, the other in Nivean.

“Do any of you wish to step down?”

“We do not.” Qrow and Winter replied.

”Are the combatants ready to fight?”

“We are ready to fight.”

“Are you all aware of the rules?”

“We are aware of the rules.”

“Then prepare for combat.”

Qrow and Winter cast each other surly looks, before they went their separate ways, stopped at an equal distance from each other.

Nora and Ren addressed the audience now. “This duel will be Tooth and Claw! No magic, no martial arts, only whatever the combatants naturally have, whatever is presently in the arena, and the equipment prescribed to them!

“Victory shall only be won by death or surrender, nothing else!”

The crowds were starting to whip themselves into a frenzy again, Qrow and Winter unsheathed their weapons and got into combat stances, Weiss tensed up and clutched the fabric of her skirt as Nora put her lips to the ceremonial horn.

Its bellow echoed throughout the training grounds, Qrow and Winter charged!

Ironbark struck ironbark, the strikes so fast Weiss could only see the reflection of the light off the swords. Punches were thrown; blades, limbs, and other body parts were grappled; kicks were aimed anywhere and everywhere, especially between legs. Sword points and edges were driven towards heads, hearts, and anywhere else important and/or vulnerable.

The two disengaged, they eyed each other carefully as they began to circle each other. They only ended up with superficial damage to their armour, small nicks and cuts that stopped bleeding almost immediately, bruises they barely felt, but it was clear that both had intended to inflict much worse.

The audience went wild, howling and cheering for their champion of choice!

Weiss blankly stared at the arena. “What the hell?!” she screamed over the din. “What just happened?!”

“Didn’t catch any of that, Weiss?” Yang yelled back.

“No!” Weiss cried. “That was over in seconds, how did any of you see that?!”

“Training and/or Fae genetics, maybe a little bit of mutations as a consequence of living here!” Taiyang replied. “You can probably just watch the recordings later in slow motion!”

“That’s not what I’m--”

Weiss’ words were cut short as Qrow and Winter charged at each other again.

Knees were driven into stomachs, and heads if they could reach. The hilts of their swords were bashed and smashed against each other. Winter got a good grip on Qrow, wrestled him into the ground. Clouds of dust kicked up all around them as she tried to stab him.

Qrow twisted, kicked, grabbed and wrenched Winter’s sword away, anything to keep her from hitting something vital, until he managed to scramble out from under her.

“What happened to you winning this fight in the blink of an eye, Qrow?!” Winter snapped as she watched him flee. “Found you underestimated me?!”

“Nah, just holding back a little to be be polite to you!” Qrow said as he got back up on his hind talons, put pressure on the worst of his injuries. “It’s considered bad form to destroy your opponents too quickly in a duel—few folks like a curb-stomp.”

“So I suppose you’re going to take this seriously now...?” Winter spat.

Qrow chuckled. “Oh, you bet.”

He charged again, Winter braced herself.

Clang!

Their swords locked, Winter forced her blade down on Qrow’s shoulder. It grazed the armour there as he spun away from her, his arms twisting unnaturally—for a human, at least. He slashed at her side, Winter cried out and jumped back.

Her eyes were wide as she looked her new wound, then at Qrow casually bending his limbs back to their normal appearance.

“Yeah, naturally double-jointed—opens up some real interesting avenues of attack, among other things,” he said. “If you surrender now, I could show you them, how to counter it with the range of motion you’re limited to.”

“No thank you,” Winter replied, “I prefer to learn by doing.”

Qrow shrugged. “If you say so, Ice Queen,” he said, before he attacked again.

Strikes came at unexpected angles, Winter could only deflect or dodge them, little time nor opportunities to make a counterattack. Qrow began to make full use of his talons, deflecting Winter’s blade, tearing into her armour like daggers, digging into her and showing just how hard it really was to escape his grip.

Winter lunged, Qrow latched onto her shoulders and vaulted right over her. Winter spun around, she cried out as Qrow’s hind talons slashed at her face, a second kick wrenched her sword right out of her hands, and sent it flying away!

Winter gritted her teeth as she raised her hands in front of her, one eye closed for the blood dripping down.

Qrow lowered his sword, gestured to Winter’s fallen weapon. “Pick it up,” he said, “I want to win, but not like this.”

Winter growled at him as she carefully inched to her weapon, an eye always on Qrow.

“Oh come on!” Weiss yelled over the howling of the crowds. “How was that even legal?! That can’t possibly have been legal!”

“It’s legal!” Ruby said. “’Only whatever the combatants naturally have’ means everything—talons, super senses, tails, you name it! Otherwise, we’d have all kinds of complicated rules and exceptions depending on the species of whoever is fighting!”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, though!” Yang said. “She’s doing pretty good for someone who’s never had to fight a bird Fae head-on before!”

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s not dead or lost a limb yet!”

Weiss punched her.

“OW!” Yang cried, clutching her arm, frost seeping into the skin. “I was legitimately complimenting your sister!”

“Well it was a shitty compliment!”

As Ruby and Taiyang worked to prevent another fight breaking out, Winter picked her sword back up, wiped the blood off her face now that the bleeding had stopped.

“Sure you still want more, Ice Queen?” Qrow called out. “You didn’t seem to be doing too good just now!”

“Only because of surprise, Qrow, only because of surprise!” Winter fired back. “I’m rather sure I know how to fight you now—as a matter of fact, I invite you to strike me again, so I can demonstrate.”

“Painfully obvious trap aside, you really sure about that?” Qrow asked. “I respect enough to tell you I’ve still got more up my sleeves—and those are just the tricks I can legally use here.”

“Whatever they are, I am sure I can handle them, so bring them out, Qrow!” Winter said as she got into a combat stance.

Qrow smirked. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He threw his sword into the ground, blade first. Winter watched in confusion, until Qrow removed the armour from his arms, detached his robes’ sleeves and revealed the thick black feathers underneath. He spread his wings out wide, before he blasted towards Winter, his sword clutched in his rear talons, clouds of dust getting kicked up in his wake.

Weiss whipped her head around to Taiyang, Ruby, and Yang.

“Still legal!” they all said.

Winter braced herself as Qrow neared, her teeth gritted. She shut her mouth as he shot upwards and over her at the last second, blasting a cloud of dust at her. Qrow swooped down around her, kicking up more and more dirt, completely obscuring them from both from view.

“WINTER!” Weiss screamed.

Outside the cloud, Zwei and the crowds nearest to it covered their eyes as the shield generators kicked in, creating gusts and blowing it back into the arena.

Inside, Winter stood braced, tensed, and blinded. The excited chatter of the crowds was deafening, but not so loud that it completely drowned out the sound of flapping wings, the hum of the shield generators, and most importantly, a sudden rush of air.

Whoosh!

Qrow dove at Winter, slashed at her side.

Winter gritted her teeth, swung her sword through empty air.

Whoosh!

Qrow struck again, flying low and catching her on her leg.

Winter jerked it back, held her sword tightly as she listened to the air blowing all around her.

Whoosh! Clang!

Winter’s blade met Qrow’s, deflected it upwards and away from her.

Qrow frantically flapped up and away, Winter spun around, dropped her sword as she dashed forward and took a leap into the air!

Qrow broke out of the cloud just in time for the crowds to see Winter tackling him from behind, pummel and strangle him until we was forced to land, face-first in the dirt. He struggled and flailed, but Winter was merciless, raining down punches on him, ending with one solid hit to the back of his head!

Crack!

Qrow’s head dropped into the dirt, Winter got off of him and stood back up. He rolled around, coughing and wheezing, he choked as Winter brought her foot down on his neck. He tried to grab at his leg, she stepped down harder.

He choked again, he put his arms down flat.

Weiss let go of the breath she had been holding. “Oh… good… does this mean she’s won?”

“Nope!” Taiyang said, shaking his head.

“What do you mean ‘Nope!’?”

“All duels have to have a mutually agreed upon, unmistakable gesture that you’ve surrendered, in case you can’t say it out loud—a non-verbal safeword.” Taiyang explained. “I don’t see either of them making anything close to that.”

Back down in the arena, Winter took her foot off Qrow’s neck. “Pick it up,” she said, pointing to where Qrow had dropped his weapon. “I want to win, but not like this.”

Qrow sucked in a breath as he bent his arms back to normal, his feathers folding close to his skin. The both of them kept an eye on each other as he retrieved his sword, before they calmly moved back to the center of the arena, stared each other down as they readied their weapons.

An ominous quiet fell over the crowd; even Nora, who had been enthusiastically cheering the whole duel, went silent.

“What’s going on...?” Weiss asked.

Almost everyone around her shushed her, Weiss flinched.

Ruby offered her hand, Weiss gripped it tightly, sweat pouring down her head, her gloved hand pulsing and pouring magic into Ruby.

Winter and Qrow charged at each other one more time, not two clean, decisive, faster-than-the-eye-could-see slashes as in the holos, but a messy, desperate explosion of violence, filled with punches, slashes, grapples, kicks, thrusts, and finally, a headbutt that sent the one who gave it, Winter, and the one who received it, Qrow, staggering backwards.

The crowd collectively held their breaths as both combatants struggled to remain standing. Winter suddenly dropped her sword, clutched at the worst of her wounds. Qrow chuckled softly until he noticed the bloody feathers falling from his head, the blood dripping into his eyes.

Then, the two of them fell to their knees or dropped flat on the ground.

<MENDERS!> Ren yelled.

Zwei, Blake, and the emergency menders sprung into action, trying to stem the worst of the bleeding, or just hauling them to the medical tent as quickly as possible.

Nora blew the horn, yelled, <And so this duel ends with a draw!> before she, Ren, and Penny climbed down from the commentary box to help.

The crowd went berserk, cheering and howling from the aftermath.

Weiss groaned, before she fell limp against Ruby.

“There, there, Weiss...” Ruby said, patting her with the hand that wasn’t half-frozen.

Note: Fae saying, roughly translated: “If you don’t want to fight in the trees, don’t fight a monkey. If you don’t want to fight in the air, don’t fight a bird. If you don’t want to fight in the water, don’t fight a fish.”

[mantrabay]

A Little Known Shortcut.

Wandering the roads. It has me under a spell.

Even when prickly brambles

scrape my eyelids or those bony ankles are being twisted by tooth like stones. The angular sort clustered mischievously among the green shoots that litter every footpath.

They lie in wait, in ambush.

It goes with the territory for this seasoned footman.

Meandering landscapes are house and home to the spiral lanes and clover clad hills that are rife in my area.

Their rustic heritage sometimes sacrificed to the orphanage of malleable motives.

Crop farmers obsessed with bountiful harvest.

A restless developer pushing the limits of an urban jungle.

Fellow traveller in league with fugitives from the cockpit.

The pressure cooker of modern life.

The town dweller with split loyalties who clings to the tumult of the city but hankers after some rural idyll.

Culprits one and all.

A lair from the hubbub.

Dwellings of the quaintest kind huddle together like dots in a matrix separated only by a minuscule space.

The more alluring aspects of tradition have been preserved.

Among these are shortcuts or bypasses.

Those sequestered passages that shave miles off for the perennial rambler or clueless hitchhiker.

The eye becomes a lense to all these

things hidden or supposedly hidden.

Human vision as sensor to magic trails.

Those tucked away secret spots beloved of local wiseacres.

They festoon the sprawling countryside at random.

My name is Eric Spring.

Anthea, my partner a transcendental meditation teacher retired early at an early age.

Her withdrawal from work was never meant to be permanent.

A final decision hinged on Anthea's ability to purge that fiendish veil of sadness that had been shadowing her.

There were several obstacles in her path but they weren’t insurmountable.

Thoughts of Anthea in her halcyon days haunted me.

Mental pictures of a vibrant woman imbued with passion.

Poignant evocative heart-tugging images.

Bar excursions into town my station is that of Anthea’s carer.

This eternally stoic woman is mindful of her mental boundaries and the abyss concealed by each of them.

But she is not prone to self-hate or abuse. The more lethal plagues of the psyche hadn't yet impacted on her.

Anthea was groping for exits but hadn’t found the signs.

She remains housebound as I embark on those age defying treks into town.

We keep in touch by mobile phone.

A very angelic sensitive looking person is she.

Reminiscent of a Sunday Times editor.

The accent filters every noun and stresses every nuance.

Like the sounds from an early morning orchard.

Anthea's job became monotonous and her other pursuits painting and writing fled without trace.

A budding artist’s most dreaded syndromes struck.

Writer's block. Artistic vacuum.

The wellspring of her imagination now devoid of those inspiring flashes that sustain creative impulse.

She had few outlets bar my care and a lady called Fidelma who had the edge on me with regard to local knowledge. I longed to hear Anthea's voice on my device.

Her hypnotic voice bridges gaps.

You feel close even when speaking to her from a distance.

I love the walks and savouring all those pivot points of folklore.

I pride myself on my intimate knowledge of every branch strewn rivulet, stream and layered rock formation.

My links to the environment are almost erotic as I crave it's sensual touch.

At times I enter a tranquil zone where the shutters are drawn.

Just myself and all those habitats.

“Hello Eric? Lost in thought again.

How is anthea these days?

I spoke to her over the phone a few days ago.

I sometimes drop in on her when you are out.”

Fidelma speaking with that chirping red robin voice of hers.

She had this penchant for suddenly appearing like an archaeological site.

And she vanished just as quickly leaving the person she spoke to scrambling to process her asides and insights before they disappeared.

Neighbour, friend, root and branch archivist whose grasp of detail was legendary.

“She seems to be coping.” I said.

“Glad to hear that. Maybe I can pay a flying visit some time soon.

But aren't you a foolish man to be imposing all those Olympic Marathons on yourself?”

Fidelma about to share one of her treasured nuggets.

“I love walking but any tips?”

Spring enquired naively as events soon demonstrated.

“There’s a shortcut…..a little known shortcut.

People in the know recommend it though I have never actually used it myself.

Maybe I will one day.

See, it's on the right hand side up the road there.

Think it might be useful when you want to get home in a hurry.” She concluded.

Fidelma in advanced middle age was still sprightly and youthful in her ways.

I missed a text from anthea and Fidelma noticed.

“Yes. I have one of those gadgets too.

Keeps me connected.

Took me awhile to master it.

Wish there was a shortcut for that.

But I'll best be on my way.

Take good care whatever the route.”

As always having spoken to Fidelma I wondered about in a trance.

Another colourful aspect of Fidelma’s personality was her “Banana Skin Syndrome.”

She could lose her balance betimes when enthusing about a topic or when she stumbled on an area that fascinated her.

The feet were a little wobbly.

All this against her philosophy about how interconnected everything is.

The mind is an antenna sending out signals to others was a frequent broadside of hers.

Even when Fidelma said very little she always had this magnetic effect on others.

Those terse one liners could trigger an avalanche in the mind.

Her thin phrases were always shrouded in a well crafted poetic meter.

It was in the tone, gestures and body language.

Those beady yet expressive eyes scanning her environment like a radar screen.

A cascade of images and sound bytes ensued when she left.

Several hours passed as my mind was in overdrive like a central processing unit.

I heard this inner voice telling me to explore this “shortcut.”

Having texted Anthea I then proceeded to this offshoot of a lane.

It was going to lighten the journey of this slope and pavement plodder.

Off I went down this quaint country shortcut.

Nothing out of the ordinary to begin with until Anthea rang.

“Gnawing feeling of sadness.

My mind is a dark blue canvass at the moment.”

Her lilting twang mingling with the song birds at the start of my downward journey.

I sensed this was urgent and started to walk quickly.

That's when problems arose.

Just a plain country passage with a primarily flat surface at this point.

There were houses on each side and some weeds strewn and partially mangled, turned to mulch by wild and indiscriminate boots.

Strange feelings welled up within me as I felt like a geyser at yellowstone.

The puff and splutter of tractors in nearby fields as furrows, the epicenter of future yields were turned.

Scarecrows were strategically perched in the meadow behind the right hand hedge to ward off some menace or other.

Something told me to relate my surroundings to Anthea.

If only to divert attention from an impending gloom.

Those barely audible inner prompts again.

“Eric, I don't want to pressurise you but at the moment I feel this dark cloud.”

Eric paused.

It then occurred to me that I was engulfed by dark foreboding clouds in tandem with a rising rainbow like haze.

As Anthea continued her disorders seemed to be complemented by external threats of rain intermingled with sunshine.

“I feel, Eric there is a radiance trying to break through.

Just to see you … your presence is a light which I could focus on.”

Then I realised that speed was of the essence.

That's when I could have panicked.

Anthea’s voice seemed louder, but also more lyrical as I realised this obscure

overlooked route could have done with some restoration!

Tufts of grass oozing slime.

Mounds of mud with pockets of oil stained water.

The briars were a shock team that endangered every part of the human body.

I was conveying all this to anthea as I was trying to dash at my normal pace.

Oddly Anthea’s tone of desperation started to dip.

But she did appear less tense as I told her this story over the phone.

“Someone told me this is a shortcut.”

Eric said gingerly.

“Who was that ? Anthea asked.

“Fidelma. We met on the main road just a short while ago.” I responded.

“You know her a bit better than I do.”

Anthea observed. “She's going to call over one of these days I'm sure.”

By now Anthea, initially nervous was mellowing as I continued with my frantic running … and staggering commentary!

She didn’t have had much to excite her over the last five years.

But I had to be careful lest those dark brooding phases returned.

Like a roving reporter I regaled her with lurid descriptions of limp green shrubs, tea brown leaves shredded on fissured rocks, juice dripping blackberry bushes with foraging earwigs seeking shelter from the sun.

But here I was almost knee deep in tangled foliage while keeping the love of my life up to speed!

The labyrinthine outcrops and mock craters were all included.

Suddenly misfortune struck without warning.

I nearly sprained my leg as I fell face down on a grassy patch.

Sprawled awkwardly across this surface my phone went flying but I managed to catch it.

“Eric, are you ok?

I don’t mean to be a burden.

Will I get someone to meet you at the end of this lane or short cut.”

Anthea again.

“I'm fine, Anthea.”

Eric said before slowly rising.

I kept detailing my observations and Anthea was reacting positively.

But I made it eventually with the sounds of the road as guide.

The temperatures continued to rise causing perspiration.

Peering thru the maze of entwined growths I saw … Fidelma.

“Where did you spring from?” Eric punning his own name.

“Fidelma ...you fell too.” A question that might have appeared tactless.

She was getting up, having fallen when taking her bearings it seems.

“Fidelma …. thanks but no thanks.

The shortcut.” I said.

“You are shivering.” She observed.

“I am. Spring responded.

“Got to get to Anthea because she might be in need of help.” Spring continued.

We both headed for my house as quickly as possible.

But it wasn’t far.

I texted Anthea and she answered by saying she had every reason to speak to me.

One wondered what that might be.

My face whitened.

Fidelma and I soon reached the house where I lived.

Eric pressed the doorbell as his heart pounded.

The door opened suddenly and we couldn't believe what we saw.

“Anthea, is that you?

I haven't seen you smile like that in years.”

I said.

Fidelma and I were perplexed to say the least.

“It’s early days yet but those locusts of darkness hopping around in my head maybe dwindling.

Those creative juices returned when I sensed your anxiety down the lane because I didn't want two sick people in this house.

But you brought splashes of vivid colour into my drawing room.

I could almost smell the rustic fragrance of every wilting petal and the creaking of every twig.

You set a whole cycle in train.”

Anthea then showed me two items she was working on.

“I have started a rough sketch of the lane you detailed and a short story.

There's been a sea change.” She said.

“Oh I wonder what I'll call this sketch and that short story?

Any ideas?” Anthea enquired.

Fidelma and I looked at each other and spoke almost in unison.

“I think we both have a fair idea what they both might be called.

Your story included.”

A little known shortcut indeed!

Photograph and short story copyright protected to mantrabay

[communityglobalbuzrush-blog]

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Not a single thing will slow down your blog or slowly your load circumstances sooner than large and unoptimized illustrations.

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"I'm sorry, Rodimus is what?" Brainstorm immediately crosses his arms to protect his spark chamber, like it's infectious.

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Take one step towards his lab, he dares you. The sights are set right on the neck, and Brainstorm is very ready to make him behave for once.