#and generally i was only slowly getting into the swing of sonic characters

[floofballsammy]

Movie Werehog! The little Puppy is putting his head out of the car window.

Movie Sonic has had my mind in a constant chokehold since I saw the third movie, and cause thoam is returning and werehog sonic is always awesome, I decided to redraw my movie pupper I did 2 years ago.

LOOK AT MY BOY!!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!

[peanut-tyrug]

SatBK Fanfic: A Sacred Old Soul

Sonic discovers that there's more to Caliburn than he lets on... an unseen past that only he and the other Round Table knights know of.

—

This idea spawned from an old SatBK AU I had. I'm not gonna elaborate on it, as the general idea of the AU is in the fic (also it'd be spoilery and I want the reader to see it for themselves).

—

TRIGGER WARNING: This fic contains depictions of gore/blood, bisection, a corpse, loss of family/loved ones, threats toward characters, illusions/hallucinations, and swords. If you aren’t comfortable with these things, please don’t read this.

It hadn't been too long since Sonic and his talking Sacred Sword Caliburn had saved the kingdom of Camelot from certain destruction. Only a day or two.

Sonic was beginning to prepare for his journey back to his world, spending some time to get to know the other knights of the Round Table before he left. He had swiftly realized how similar they all were to the counterparts from his home... it gave the hedgehog an odd sense of deja vu.

After having spent a bit with Merlina, who was now ready to send Sonic home, Sonic wanted spend a while with Caliburn.

Like the Round Table knights and Merlina, Sonic never really had the time to get to know Caliburn. The sword had been at Sonic's side for most of his adventure through the land of King Arthur, and despite that, he barely got to see the side of Caliburn that was more... genuine. The side of Caliburn that wasn’t an uptight mentor in swordsmanship.

And Sonic felt a nice run through some of the kingdom’s scenery would be a good way to get relax with the Sacred Sword.

Around the half way point of Sonic’s journey through the kingdom, the pair had finally entered the Shrouded Forest.

The pair glanced upon the fantastical forest as Sonic steadily sped through it. The crystalline snow on the ground was swiftly crushed under Sonic’s speedy feet. The flowers of the forest shone in beautiful yet eerie shades of blue, violet, and pink. A few bugs flew around the forest, appearing to be uncaring for the hedgehog and sentient weapon…

“Be careful, Sonic.” Says Caliburn. “The butterflies here are not what you think.”

“You sure?” Sonic asks. “They look fine to me.”

“They can get at your head, make you see things that are not actually there.” Caliburn informs. “I’d suggest you keep them away.”

“…Oh, they’re little tricksters, huh?” Sonic asks again. “We can handle that, right, Caliburn?”

“We have faced more threatening terrors than insects, Sonic.” Says Caliburn with a stern tone of voice. “Little butterflies are no problem for either of us.”

“I’d imagine that.” Says Sonic. “Unless you want your blade getting slathered in bug guts.” He says jokingly.

Caliburn swiftly appears appalled at the comment, looking as if he’s sick to his stomach at the thought… he didn’t actually have organs, did he?

“Sonic!” Says a disgusted Caliburn. “D-do not speak of such things!”

Sonic chuckles slightly. “You know I’m just messin' with ya!” He says. “And if you ever get dirtied up, I’m sure I can find someone to get your blade polished up.”

“…I-I appreciate the gesture.” Says Caliburn, who still sounded disgusted.

…Sonic just wanted to throw a quip at the sword, just like he did during their adventure through the kingdom. It was the last time he’d have the time to hang out with the sword, and he wanted to make it worth while.

They had greatly bonded, both of them knew that. And both of them appreciated each other… even if Caliburn didn’t fully understand Sonic’s quips. The sword knew Sonic was just messing around, and didn’t mean it… that didn’t prevent him from taking them to heart for a moment though.

Suddenly, a few butterflies cross the hedgehog’s path.

“Woah!” Sonic exclaims. As he runs, he holds Caliburn up and swings the insects away, his movements lacking elegance and poise.

Caliburn is swiftly disoriented by the action, slowly trying to regain an ornate head. “Sonic!” Caliburn criticizes. “Don’t swing me around so recklessly! I’m certain you are aware that I am not some fly swatter?”

“Sorry.” Sonic apologizes. “Just had to get those bugs out of the way.”

Sonic continues his run, not caring for the sudden ambush. It isn’t long before even more butterflies cloud Sonic’s eyes.

Sonic halts with a quick yelp. Caliburn then falls out of Sonic’s grip, as he is no longer paying attention to the blade, trying to swat the insects away.

“Caliburn!?” Sonic cries out. He tries to reach for his blade, not noticing that it had fallen to the ground.

Caliburn eventually gets up on his own, now standing on his point. “Sonic!” He shouts, now racing toward the struggling hedgehog.

Before Caliburn can reach Sonic however, a hoard of butterflies race toward the sword’s face, completely obscuring his vision, and causing him to quickly shout.

“Get away from me, foul things!” Says Caliburn. “Away! Away with you!”

The issue is that Caliburn can’t sway away the bugs on his own, he needs Sonic’s assistance.

“Caliburn!” Sonic calls out. “Where are you?”

“Where are you!?” Caliburn asks back. “I cannot see!”

The two then appear to bump into each other, causing them both to fall back, still struggling with the bugs.

“Shoot!” Says Sonic. “These things are such a pain!”

“Hurry!” Says Caliburn. “Find me, and pick me back—!”

*WHOOSH!*

“…Up…?”

It takes a moment for Caliburn to adjust to his new and sudden surroundings. All he can see is what appears to be nothing; a completely white, blank void.

Caliburn attempts to get up… and yet, he doesn’t struggle to get on his point, not like he usually did. It was normally a small struggle for him to get up if he ever landed on the back of his blade, since he never had a spine…

Or, at least, he hadn’t had one… not for a time, as he recalled.

“…Strange.” Says Caliburn.

He only looks forward at the void before him… then he looks down…

“…W-what!?” Caliburn shouts. “What in the unholy trickery—!?”

…Caliburn had a body. A human body… something that felt so foreign, yet so familiar…

“…I-I don’t— I don’t understand…” Says Caliburn, panic rising in his voice. “No, this isn’t—!”

“Christopher!?” A feminine voice calls out. “Where are you? Where did you go!?”

Caliburn looks upward at the void again… he hadn’t been called that in ages…

He hadn’t heard that voice in ages…

Caliburn appeared simply awestruck at the voice. All he focused on what the single other person that seemed to be there with him…

“…A-Angeline?” Caliburn calls out, slowly and steadily rising to his feet. He struggles a bit though, trembling a bit where he stands.

“…Christopher?” The voice calls out again. “Is that you?”

Caliburn appears even more shocked as a figure comes into view from the void.

“…Angeline?” Caliburn calls out again. “M-my sweet Angel, why— How—!?”

“Christopher!?” The voice calls again as it became more clear.

From the void, a woman adorned in an elegant dress, colored in blue and gold with silver Celtic designs covering it, approached the confused Caliburn. Despite there being no wind, her mid-length brunette hair followed serenely, making her give off a poise and elegant aura.

“Angeline?” Caliburn calls out again, standing rooted to his spot.

“Christopher?” Angeline calls out again, now rushing to him.

Angeline then finally reaches Caliburn, and tightly embraces him, while Caliburn remains still in his confused headspace.

“Where have you been!?” Angeline asks. “I’ve looked everywhere for you!”

“…I don’t understand.” Says Caliburn. “You already know.”

Angeline then grasps onto Caliburn’s shoulders. She leans in close to him. “That doesn’t matter now.” She says. “We are both here, together.”

…Caliburn doesn’t smile, he only stares at the woman… before his expression descends into that of anger.

“…No.” Says Caliburn. “This is not real…”

“…What?” Angeline asks.

“…This is not real… it’s a trick!” Says Caliburn. “I will not fall prey to your illusions, foul beasts! How dare you sully her name!?”

“What!?” Angeline questions again. “Christopher, I am real!”

“No! You are not her!” Says Caliburn. “My mind has been twisted against my will to fall for the likes of those pests! I will not give in!”

“Caliburn! Snap out of it!” Angeline exclaims… almost sounding as if another familiar, snarky voice was speaking through her… and yet, Caliburn doesn’t hear it.

“Get out of my head!” Says Caliburn.

“Caliburn!!” A voice shouts.

Caliburn’s eyes then shoot open, as if he had been suddenly awakened from a deep sleep.

“—Wha— what!?” Caliburn shouts. “What happened!?”

Sonic, who seemed to have been able to get the bugs away from him on his own, then grabs the grip of Caliburn’s hilt and lifts him up. He looks him dead in the eyes before speaking. “Those bugs got to ya, Caliburn.”

Caliburn then appears to be ashamed of himself… Sonic could tell that he didn’t feel good about those bugs getting the best of him… but there seemed to be something else lingering on the sword’s mind. Same for Sonic’s.

“What was all that about, anyway?” Sonic asks. “Who was that lady you were talking about?”

A sudden surge of panic slaps itself onto Caliburn’s face... just how much of that did he hear?

“…I-it was nothing. She is no one.” He says.

“…And I thought a Sacred Sword like you would never tell a lie!” Sonic says slyly.

“Why I never! I would never do such a—!” Caliburn begins, before getting cut off.

“Yes you would, and you’re doing it right now!” Says Sonic, sounded irritated. “You can tell me!”

…Caliburn then sighs, feeling defeated. “You are the king, and my closest friend. You of all people should have my permission to know this…” Says Caliburn. “…C-can you keep a secret?”

“Of course I can! If it’s for a friend!” Says Sonic. “Spill the beans!”

“…What?” Caliburn asks. He doesn’t understand Sonic’s modern slang.

“What’s your secret?” Asks Sonic.

“Before that,” Caliburn begins. “Let us leave this place. It is best that we don’t get caught off guard by the butterflies again.”

“Roger that.” Says Sonic.

The blue hedgehog then begins to speed out of the Shrouded Forest with his Sacred Sword in tow. Silence crosses the both of them as Sonic approaches the Deep Woods.

—

Sonic comes to a halt near one of the many groves of trees in the Deep Woods, just nearby where he had first fought Sir Lancelot. Small crystals reflect the Sun’s peering light onto the ground, lighting up the grove a bit.

Sonic leans Caliburn against a tree, while the hedgehog sits next him with his legs crossed.

“You ready?” Sonic asks.

“…Yes.” Says Caliburn.

“What’cha got for me?” Sonic asks again.

“It’s fairly long.” Says Caliburn, as if warning Sonic that he may get bored of it.

“Ah, just make it interesting.” Says Sonic, smiling.

Caliburn chuckles a bit. “I like to think it is.” He says, as he begins to tell his tale…

“…Have you ever pondered how I am able to be sentient, Sonic?” Caliburn asks.”

“Magic?” Sonic asks. “That’s what I always thought.”

“You’d be correct.” Says Caliburn. “But the magic of it is what you don’t know… to be general, I was once organic…”

“You weren’t always a sword?” Sonic asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

“…Exactly.” Says Caliburn.

“But… how?” Sonic asks. “What about the lady?”

“…That is when this gets a bit long.” Says Caliburn.

~~~

'…I was orphaned at a young age. My family had passed in a storm…'

“…Mother? Father?” Calls a young Christopher Caliburn, son of a small peasant family. “Where have you gone?”

The child walks through a quiet and desolate forest, soaked head to toe in rain water. His sewn-up rags were tearing at the seams from the rain. The child walks practically aimlessly, looking for his missing family.

'…They were never found, and my home had also been lost in the storm. I was left to roam that forest alone, no one to help me, and all I had other than my rags was what I knew I could do on my own…'

Christopher eventually weakly falls to his knees in the rain. He begins cry softly, only begging that his family was somewhere in this storm, possibly looking for their son…

But he had been looking for so long, and there was no sign of them. No trace of them anywhere in those woods.

…They were dead, no matter how much Christopher didn’t want to admit it.

Despite that, he knew he couldn’t sit there and cry forever… he had to survive here. It was all he could do. It was what he had to do… whatever it took.

'For ages, leaking into my adult years, I remained in those woods. Surviving completely on my own. Killing animals to live, building shelters to live… it was all I could do.'

'It was the same thing all that time. It never changed, until it did…'

Christopher, now in his mid thirties, ventures the woods, dressed in a uniform from one of the various guards that had come upon the woods, but had never returned to Camelot… he didn’t like the idea of taking their clothes as his own, it didn’t feel morally right, but he needed them.

A hand-carved wooden spear remained in his hands. He glances around, looking for anything he could easily take down…

Before a sudden hissing is heard.

Christopher turns a heel, pointing his spear in front of him… then, again, the same hissing.

What was odd was that it wasn’t a familiar hissing, not like that of a snake… almost like some small beast that had yet to be named and discovered.

…It sounded just the slightest bit of ferocious, like a knight of the underworld…

The beasts of such kind haunted Christopher’s nightmares. He had known of them from tales his mother spoke of… even if they ended nicely, the thought of such beasts scared him, even though he was almost an adult.

Such imagery can frighten anyone, regardless of age.

Suddenly, the hissing is heard again… although, it’s much closer than before…

Christopher turns back… only to be met with a helmeted beast. A knight of the underworld, one with bat-like wings and fisk-like tail. Christopher shouts, startled. He holds his spear up, trying to fight the beast.

“Back!” Christopher exclaims. “Back, I say! Back!”

The creature shrieks in a thunderous fury, as if to call others of its kin. Christopher freezes for a moment, before turning a heel again and scurrying off… no way he could fight as many as it could summon with a rickety wooden spear.

As he runs, he can feel the presence of many other underworld creatures chasing after him. He was their prey, and it felt like nothing was going to save him from his predicament.

As he ran however, the ground below him seemed to suddenly disappear as he began to trip and fall. Christopher tumbled down a deep slope, rolling down the hill, until he suddenly landed in a pile of shrubs. The shrubs swiftly broke his fall, although, the pain he was in first fall had yet waver.

Christopher slowly rises from the shrubs with a pained grunt. As he recollects himself, his eyes quickly spot something before him…

His eyes go wide, and his mouth goes agape…

Christopher spots an elegant and pristine sword lodged into a stone covered in vines. A single ray of the Sun’s light peered through the trees and onto the blade, making it appear even more beautiful.

~~~

“Was that sword… you?” Sonic asks.

“Yes, it was.” Caliburn says softly, as if reminiscing. ��I had not an inkling that the sword in that very stone was Excalibur itself… I actually remember finding it here, in the Deep Woods.”

“Huh, who knew?” Sonic asks himself in wonder. “But what happens after that?” He asks with a soft smile on his face.

“We’ll get there.” Says Caliburn, sounding as if he was trying calm an excited child.

~~~

Christopher steadily exits the pile of shrubs and heads to the stone. He slowly wraps his hands around the sword’s grip, and tugs…

The sword moves an inch upward…

Christopher tugs harder at the weapon, until it completely slides free from the stone. The sword feels heavy in Christopher’s grip, causing him to drop it slightly. He slowly picks it up again, allowing it to set itself in his hands.

Christopher looks ahead past the stone, gazing upon a grove up ahead. Rather than climb back up the steep hill, Christopher walks into the grove.

As he walks, he takes a look at the sword. It could practically be used as a mirror with how reflective it was.

As Christopher gazes upon the serene blade, a sudden shriek makes him come to halt… it didn’t sound like it came from a creature, but rather… a person.

Christopher then rushes forward, blade clutched tightly in his grasp, toward the sound of the shriek. He runs for what feels like miles… before suddenly bumping into something… someone.

“Oh, stars!” Says the stranger as she suddenly falls. She looks forward, and yelps at the person before them, a man dressed in a raggedy guard’s uniform and wielding a sword.

The lady moves backwards, afraid of what the man could do to her. “D-don’t hurt me!” She says. “I did no harm, Sir Knight!”

Christopher slowly rises to his bottom and looks to the woman in confusion. “…I’m sorry?” He asks. “I am not a knight.”

“…Then what of your sword?” Asks the lady.

“I found it, my lady.” Says Christopher.

Suddenly, another hiss is heard… a familiar sound…

“It’s still after me!” The lady said to herself. She then turns to Christopher. “You must help me, sir!”

“With ails you, my lady?” Asks Christopher.

“Underworld knights!” The lady says in a panic.

From behind the woman, a small hoard of underworld knights appears. The lady yelps and hides behind Christopher, hoping that he can help.

Christopher holds up his weapon to the knights, ready to strike… before then thrusting forward, taking a knight or two. He then swipes the sword to hit the rest… although, his movement is messy.

The knights disappear in puffs of smoke, dying just before his eyes. Christopher slowly lowers his weapon, breathing heavily. He then turns back to the woman, who was sitting on the ground…

…He never had a chance to properly look at her. Neither did she.

They stared at each other in complete awe… they were swiftly pulled to each other like magnets.

The lady was dressed in a small blue and gold gown, decorated with Celtic designs colored in silver. Her wonderfully put-together brunette hair stayed still as the woman looked up to Christopher… her face slightly red.

Christopher doesn’t initially realize that he was slightly red in the face too… until he realizes he’s staring. He clears his throat. “…I’m sorry.” He says.

“No, no… it’s alright.” Says the lady. “…B-but that was amazing!”

“…I need no compliments, my lady.” Says Christopher.

The lady then looks Christopher, as if wanting to speak again, before looking down… appearing worried by his raggedy and slightly torn outfit. “…How long have you resided here?” She asks.

“…Almost all of my life.” Says Christopher with a tinge of dread. “I have fought for my life in these woods.”

“I see…” Says the lady. “I could let you stay at my home for a time.”

“I need it not, my lady.” Says Christopher.

~~~

“Still as stubborn as ever.” Sonic says in a joking tone.

“Oh, hush up.” Says Caliburn, sounding as if he’s trying to repress a chuckle.

~~~

“Are you certain?” Asks the lady. “I’m certain it would be a nice change from the Deep Woods, wouldn’t it?”

Christopher wants to retort… but then he thinks about it… it would be a nice change from these woods. He had been here for almost his entire childhood, and hadn’t had a meal that wasn’t fish in months, as not many other animals resided in the Deep Woods other than the fish that reigned it’s lake. And his clothes, always ragged and in tatters, having to take cloth from those who had fallen…

Christopher then looks up to the lady with certain eyes. “I will accompany you.” He says. “…You are correct, your home would be a nice change from the Deep Woods.”

“Oh, thank you for allowing me to help… I am very thankful for your help as well.” Says the lady. “I go by Angeline, by the way.”

“…A wonderful name.” Says Christopher, smiling softly… his face also appearing a bit red again. “It suits you.”

Angeline blushes a bit. She hides her face a bit, but is simply unable to repress a smile. “Oh, stop!” She says. “What is your name, sir?”

“I am Christopher Caliburn, son of the late Colette and Alaric Caliburn.” Says Christopher. He then smiles softly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Angeline.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Christopher.” Says Angeline. She then seems to have a realization of some kind… “…Your 'late' family?”

Christopher’s expression falters slightly. “…I lost them years ago, I wasn’t even in adolescence yet…” He says. “…I-it was a storm.”

“…Oh, stars.” Says Angeline. “I apologize for asking… I had no idea…”

“No, no, it’s alright.” Says Christopher. “The grief may live on within me… but I do not let it consume me. I am but too strong to fall to my grief…”

Angeline smiles. “I’m glad.” She says. “Come, I will lead you to my residence.”

~~~

“So you and this Angeline were buddy-buddy?” Asks Sonic.

“…What?” Caliburn asks, confused once again.

“Like, were you friends?” Sonic reiterates.

“…It started that way, somewhat.” Says Caliburn.

~~~

Angeline leads Christopher through her small village. As they walk, Christopher notices a few villagers eyeing him, appearing afraid…

They were likely intimated. None of these people knew who he was, and neither did he. He was also wielding a weapon… they were fearful of him attacking, he assumed.

With time, Angeline comes to a halt in front of a drab wooden door. She lets herself in, with Christopher following behind her.

Angeline’s home was a small cobblestone shack, decorated with organized shelves. It was cramped and desolate… and yet, it was home. Christopher didn’t have much either.

Christopher hums. “…A very neatly home.” He says as he sets his sword against a wall.

“Yes.” Says Angeline. “I try to keep everything together… I’ll find you something nicer to wear… how did you get that?”

“The uniform?” Asks Christopher.

Angeline confirms with a hum and nod as she enters another room.

“…I’d rather not say.” Says Christopher. “I am not proud of the method I used…”

“That’s alright.” Says Angeline. “I understand… you had to what had to do out in the Deep Woods, I would imagine.”

“…You could put it that way.” Says Christopher.

It was all he could do. What he had to do.

Angeline eventually steps out of the room she had been in, a fleece dress shirt and pants in her hands. “Try these. I hope they fit.”

“They shall suffice.” Says Christopher, studying to see if the clothes would fit.

“…I’ll get you something to eat, hold on a moment.” Angeline then hurries over to a small kitchen nearby, looking through a few cabinets that were filled to the brim with jars of ingredients he couldn’t name.

Christopher then heads to another room to change out of his rags.

—

Christopher, now dressed in the clothes Angeline lended him, sits in front a small wooden table. He waits patiently for his meal… daydreaming about what had recently transpired… before a small bowl clanks onto the table.

“Here.” Says Angeline. “I don’t have much, but I made an attempt.”

Christopher looks to the bowl and takes it… there appeared to be a kind of soup inside of it. He picks up the spoon within the bowl and lifts the soup his mouth…

It was hot, he swiftly realized… but not too hot, rather, it was warm. A pleasant yet unknown flavor lathered Christopher’s tongue.

“…What is in this?” Christopher asked.

“Oh! A few herbs and spices… meat I had gotten in a trade… what meat was it?” Angeline then begins to become deep in thought.

“Hm… it’s serpent meat…” Says Christopher.

“Pardon?” Angeline asks.

“There’s serpent meat in this…” Says Christopher.

“Have you had serpent before?” Angeline asks.

“Yes, but ages ago…” Says Christopher.

“Hm… they’ve been hunted down a lot recently…” Says Angeline.

Before Angeline can continue, her eyes fall upon the sword Christopher had found.

“…You know, I’ve never seen a sword like that before.” Says Angeline. “How did you come across it?”

“I found it in a stone.” Says Christopher, the soup bowl in hand. “I’ve never seen it either… although, it does bare a slight resemblance to Excalibur…”

“Maybe it was made in its image?” Angeline suggests.

“…Possibly.” Says Christopher as he eats.

A sudden shout from outside then knocks Christopher out of his head.

“Oh, dear…” Angeline says, her voice clouded in worry. “A robber… again.”

“Again?” Christopher asks.

“They have been very rampant recently.” Says Angeline. “They’re likely after our resources… the King hasn’t kept an eye on the kingdom’s resources for quite sometime…”

Suddenly, Christopher rises from his seat and grabs the sword. He swiftly opens the wooden door and rushes outside.

“Christopher!?” Angeline cries out from inside her home.

Christopher turns his head back to face Angeline. “I will only be a moment!” He then hurries away.

Christopher rushes into a more bustling part of the village and immediately spots a robber haggling a bag from a defenseless damsel.

“Just give me the bag, and you can go!” Says the robber.

“I am desperate, I beg you!” Says the damsel. “I need this!”

Christopher’s brows furrow and he hurries forward. He holds his sword out and makes his presence known.

“Halt!” Christopher exclaims. “Leave the woman be!”

The robber turns away from the woman to face Christopher. “Hah!” He bellows. “What’s a man in rags gonna do with a sword without a name?”

Christopher appears offended the comment as he turns a heel to the right and circles back to the robber. He collides with the thief, making him fall to the ground.

Christopher keeps the thief pinned to the ground, his sword held close to the other’s neck.

“Judge a sword not by its name, but the power it wields.” Says Christopher in a stern tone. “I may not be well versed in swordsmanship, but I am certain a single swipe of this blade could end you in but a second… let this woman go, give her back her possessions, and I will not harm you… be weary that if you don’t heed my word, my mercy for you will be smothered out in an instant.”

The robber then appears horrified at the comment… despite Christopher being a collected and reserved gentleman, he was still very intimidating when he needed to be… it was unnerving…

Before the robber can heed Christopher’s word, the sound of approaching armored steps is heard.

“Halt!” Says a voice. “In the name of the King, halt!”

Three different anthropomorphic knights come into view… a black hedgehog, a red echidna, and a violet feline, all of them adorned in armor and wielding swords of the own.

The hedgehog steps forward, holding his drawn sword out toward Christopher and the robber. “Cease your movement!” He says.

The robber suddenly hurries away from Christopher and to the knights, appearing panicked.

“Just take me away! Imprison me!” Says the robber. “Get me away from that man!”

The echidna then steps over to Christopher, appearing suspicious. “…You are a thief, aren’t you, scum?”

“…What?” Christopher asks, taken aback.

“You were stealing from that man, weren’t you!?” Asks the echidna. “You had him pinned!”

“…It was he that stole, Sir Knight.” Says Christopher.

“How dare you not know the name of Sir Gawain!?” Sir Gawain chastises.

“Gawain, wait.” Says the feline, who approaches the echidna’s side. She turns to face Christopher. “You said that man had stole?”

“Yes.” Christopher responds. “He had stolen a lady’s goods… I could not stand by and let him have what was rightfully hers.”

“Just take the bag back! Take it!” Says the robber as he chucks the bag to the ground. The feline catches it just as the damsel approaches her.

“Oh, thank you, Sir Percival!” Says the damsel. “I am forever grateful.”

“I need no thanks.” Says Sir Percival. “I am here for the kingdom and its people.”

The damsel nods. “Have a blessed day!” She says as she takes her leave.

“You as well.” Christopher replies.

Sir Percival then eyes the sword in Christopher’s grip. Even behind her visor, anyone could sense the suspicions drowning her features. “…Where did you find that sword, sir?” She asks. “Are you a knight as well?”

“No,” Christopher replies. “I found it within a stone in the Deep Woods… I do not believe it has a name.”

“…The resemblance to Excalibur is eye-catching…” Says Sir Percival.

“He must’ve stolen it!” Sir Gawain accused… he’s always had such a thick head…

Sir Percival can only eye Sir Gawain before the armored hedgehog approaches. “…How could someone such as a common man be worthy of such a pristine blade…” He asks. “Only a Sacred Sword would be gifted to such a warrior…”

“Then he possibly is a warrior, Sir Lancelot.” Says Sir Percival.

As the knights speak amongst each other, Christopher begins to recognize each of them…

“Forgive me, but, only now do I realize…” Christopher begins. “Are you all Round Table knights? King Arthur’s mightiest of swordsmen?”

The knights turn to face the man before them. “…Forgive my forgetfulness… where are my manners? …Yes, brave swordsman.” Says Sir Percival. “I am Sir Percival, Knight of the Grail. I am joined by Sirs Lancelot and Gawain, Knights of the Lake and Knight of the Sun respectively.” She points to the respective knights with a hand. “We are at your service, as your kingdom’s most courageous of knights.”

Christopher hums, indicating his understanding. “I am grateful for your service.” He says.

Sir Percival then eyes Christopher’s sword, then looks back to face him. “I believe it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary to be given training in swordsmanship?” She asks.

“Hm…” Sir Lancelot hums, considering the idea. “Such a mighty blade should be wielded by proper hands…”

Christopher then appears flustered, taken aback… the same can be said for Sir Gawain.

“How can we trust him?” Asks Sir Gawain.

“I am certain we can hold out a trusting hand for him, Gawain.” Says Sir Percival. “He shall make a great knight… a Round Table knight even.”

Christopher still seems taken aback by the request. Before he can give his response, quick steps are heard pacing towards them.

“Christopher!” Angeline calls out. As she sees the knights, she skids to a halt and gets on one knee. “O, dearest Knights of the Round Table, forgive my intrusion…”

“You are alright, my lady.” Says Sir Percival.

Angeline then rises back up to her feet and faces Christopher. “Where is the robber? Did you assist the victim?”

“He was taken care of swiftly, Angeline.” Says Christopher. He then looks up to see the robber sitting in place not even daring to move and run off… the robber then seems notice the weapon-wielding man looking to him, causing him to avert his gaze in fear.

The knights also turn back to the robber… whatever Christopher done has worked… he was formidable.

Worthy of training in knighthood, gifted unto him from King Arthur’s greatest knights.

“…What do you say, sir… what is your name?” Asks Sir Percival.

“Christopher Caliburn.” Christopher responds.

“…Sir Christopher, would you take this opportunity from us to learn true knighthood?” Asks Sir Percival.

“…'Learn of true knighthood'?” Angeline questions.

Christopher, only for a moment, wants to retort… but he looks to his blade… then over to Angeline, and the rest of the small village…

…He wanted to protect them… this was his kingdom, just was it was theirs.

“I will take your words, and heed them well.” Says Christopher. “I accept your mentorship.”

“…Oh, my…” Says Angeline. “Mentorship from the Knights of the Round Table?”

“I want to be able to protect this kingdom, Angeline. It is my home, just as it is yours.” Says Christopher. “…I want to protect you.”

Christopher then finds himself looking into Angeline’s eyes… her bright brown eyes stare deep into his own ocean blue ones… her eyes were like a field, and his were like a fresh clean river… something you could never tired of looking upon…

They don’t even notice that either one of them was blushing slightly.

Christopher then blinks, coming to his senses. “…M-my apologies.” He says. “I didn’t realize I was—!”

“It’s alright.” Says Angeline. “I didn’t notice either.”

…Christopher couldn’t help but smile.

“We will begin your training today.” Says Sir Percival. “We will begin at Misty Lake.”

“…Y-you don’t mind if tag along, do you?” Asks Angeline. “I only wish to watch… and be at his side.”

…They both blush again…

“…As long as it is not a distraction for our student.” Says Sir Percival.

“I will be certain not to distract him.” Says Angeline.

“I will stay on guard.” Says Christopher.

“It is settled then.” Says Percival. “…But you need armor…”

“There is a blacksmith in the castle town, correct?” Asks Sir Gawain.

“Yes…” Says Sir Percival. “We shall start there.”

The five then head off to the castle town… a new chapter in Christopher’s life was swiftly blossoming.

~~~

“No wonder you know so much about knights!” Says Sonic. “You were one!”

“I learned from the best.” Says Caliburn.

“And so did I.” Says Sonic.

Caliburn smiles softly. “I appreciate the comment, Sonic.”

“Don’t mention it.” Says Sonic. “…And I’m starting to think you and Angeline weren’t just friends.”

Caliburn fails to repress a small chuckle. “We’re getting there.” He says.

~~~

'I had spent months around the kingdom training with the Round Table knights… I had been everywhere… from Misty Lake, to Molten Mine, to Titanic Plain… there wasn’t any place where I hadn’t been anymore.'

'Each round of training ended with a battle with one of the knights themselves… With time, I learned all there was to each of their skill sets, and one by one… they were all defeated in my battles against them.'

'I was formidable, more than ever, they knew that now… especially Angeline.'

'The entire time, she was there, watching my every move… she asked if I could teach her what I learned. We didn’t get far, but we had fun… we grew closer. Bonded more than ever before…'

'…Our love had blossomed like that of Spring when Winter were to finally cease… we were close, and nothing were to tear us apart.'

'…Until I finally met the King…'

Within the training grounds of Camelot Castle, Christopher and Sir Lancelot stand in their battle positions, the other knights and Angeline watching.

“Let us see what you are capable of, Sir Christopher!” Sir Lancelot demands. “Give me everything you’ve got!”

“That is what I seek to achieve; O, Knight of the Lake!” Says Christopher.

Sir Lancelot smiles for a moment… a rare occurrence it was for a smirk to cross the mighty knight’s face… he was impressed.

Sir Lancelot then charges forward, so does Christopher. Their blades clang together, making the air around them ring. Slashes after slashes soon follow, before Sir Lancelot suddenly disappears in a flash…

“Chaos—!” Sir Lancelot exclaims, before getting got off.

“Punishment?” Christopher questions, now guarding as Arondight’s blade collided with his own.

Sir Lancelot scoffs slightly, before striking down with Arondight once more. The hedgehog disappears again, the reappears elsewhere, summoning Chaos Spears.

Christopher turns just in time to defend himself from the spears. Sir Lancelot strikes again… time feels like it’s going a mile a minute… until it suddenly wasn’t.

The winds swiftly pick up as the sounding of galloping horseshoes hit the ground… or, somehow, the air.

A dark horse adorned in armor appears before Sir Lancelot and Christopher, zipping past them in a flash. The horse eventually finds its way to the ground, allowing everyone there to see the man atop the steed.

A bulky figure adorned in heavy armor sits atop the horse, his brightly colored slits that were his eyes peering from the eyes holes in his helmet. Dark mist surrounds the figure, a vapor that made him appear not of high standing… but a demon from the very depths of Hell.

“King Arthur!” Sir Lancelot exclaims as he gets one knee before the king. The other knights follow suit… so do Christopher and Angeline, despite how unruly he appeared…

“My liege…” Says Angeline.

King Arthur then turns to face Christopher, squinting his eyes. “…Is that the knight-in-training you told me about?”

…Christopher doesn’t like his tone of voice at all… he said it so venomously…

“Yes, my liege.” Says Sir Percival. “We have trained him well… we would say that he is even up to par with us.”

King Arthur turns away from Sir Percival and back to Christopher… his gaze reeking of suspicion.

“…Then fight me, Sir Knight.” Says King Arthur. “Show me that you are capable of being among my grand knights.”

Christopher, although taken aback, draws his blade… “I shall prove myself to you, my King.” He says.

The knights and Angeline then appear shocked. “Sir Christopher! Wait!” Sir Percival shouts.

“Silence!” Says King Arthur as his eyes squint again, as if he was happy that the new knight was willing to prove himself. “If he wishes to prove himself, so be it…”

His steed then lifts itself into the air, and circles the area… before King Arthur comes back down, glowing in bright red aura, his large blade glowing a sinister orange.

Christopher is barely prepared for fast the King was returning, barely able to block the attack. Despite his barely successful block, the power of the attack sends him flying across the field. The others gasp in shock…

He was not ready.

Before Christopher can get back up and recover, King Arthur comes back down again, his blade still glowing. Christopher barely dodges, and gets to his feet, which tremble and struggle to keep him up.

“I thought my knights had trained you well! What is this?” King Arthur taunts.

Christopher doesn’t even retort back as he runs and stands before the king. The king then readies himself, his eyes still squinted in anticipation, before his sword glows again. Just as the king swings, Christopher swings back.

Their blades clash, again and again, before King Arthur is thrown off, finally giving Christopher room to attack. He slashes the King’s armor, seemingly hurting him… before the King suddenly grabs Christopher by the neck and holds him up to his face… he tucks his sword away and pulls out a small scabbard…

As Christopher struggles to breathe, a bright aura emanates around the king. “…I am immortal.” Says the King. “You cannot defeat me… no matter what you try.”

The King then throws Christopher off, causing both the swordsman and sword to hit the floor.

“Christopher!” Angeline cries as she rushes over to the swordsman.

As Angeline gets to her knees in front of Christopher, the other knights also at his side. King Arthur looks to the group with a stern glare.

“If you wish to fight again, find me in Faraway Avalon.” Says King Arthur, placing his sword away. “…Or, you can wallow in the pitiful mess that is your swordsmanship.”

The steed finds itself in the air again, and King Arthur sees himself off, just as Christopher rises up to his bottom.

“Are you alright?” Angeline asks.

“…I’m fine…” Says Christopher, sounding strained.

“But you were hit.” Says Sir Percival.

“…I am alright, Sir Percival.” Says Christopher. “If only I could hit him…”

“He has Excalibur’s scabbard.” Says Sir Lancelot. “He can’t be wounded.”

“…T-then how I am supposed to beat him again?” Christopher asks.

“…It would be ill advised.” Says Sir Percival. “It is not easy to win a fight against him… if anyone can anymore.”

“…It is oddly unfair of a knight like him… to cheat with a scabbard like that.” Says Christopher. “My mother told me of stories where he was wise and just… praised by all…”

“…He has changed, Sir Christopher.” Says Sir Percival. “…He isn’t who he used to be…”

“…And yet you don’t try to stop him?” Christopher asks. “Why?”

“The King’s orders are absolute.” Says Sir Lancelot.

“…Whether we like it or not.” Says Sir Gawain.

“Without loyalty to the King…” Sir Percival pauses. “We are nothing…”

…Christopher begins to ponder of the King… the tales he heard, and how untrue they felt… that was not the King of the kingdom of Camelot once knew…

“…What happened do the King?” Christopher asks.

“…We aren’t sure…” Says Sir Perceval. “He returned after a hearty battle he was injured from with Excalibur’s scabbard and…”

“He lost himself…” Says Sir Lancelot. “He summoned knights from the deepest reaches of Hell, and let them loose…”

“…If the scabbard had made him immortal…” Christopher began. “…Then was he corrupted by it?”

The knights then go silent… it was the only foreseeable option.

“…He is a threat to the kingdom, and yet you stand by? You say you are for the kingdom and it’s people when you act as underlings for a tyrant?”

“Sir Christopher, please—!” Sir Percival pleas, before getting cut off.

“How dare you!” Sir Gawain butts in, while Sir Lancelot only snarls at the swordsman.

“And yet you deny it… I am right, aren’t I not?” Christopher asks. “You have done nothing about the King, and for what? To keep your dignity? When other people, your people, are in danger because of the very man you’ve sworn your allegiance to? I thought there was more to being a knight than serving a King?”

The knights go silent again… and before any of them can throw a rebuttal, Christopher stands tall.

“…I wanted to learn from you to be able to protect my kingdom… my people… and I learned from tyrants…” Christopher begins. “I will fix your mistake… the King must be taken down…”

Everyone looks to the swordsman in an unanimous shock.

“We forbid you from doing such a thing!” Says Sir Gawain.

“…What about you?” Says Angeline, breaking her silence. “You’ll be despised… a slayer of Kings…”

Christopher turns back to Angeline, putting his sword under his arm, and takes her hands. “…It is what I must do, Angeline.” Says Christopher. “This kingdom still won’t be safe if I show him mercy. He will still be here, to lurk in the shadows, devise schemes against the kingdom… bring upon further destruction then he already has… I cannot stand by, and watch this man hurt my people… understand me when I say I’m doing this for the kingdom… and you.”

…Reluctantly, Angeline accepts… she knew it was what he had to do…

Like what he did in the woods, it was he had to do…

Their kingdom, their people, were all in danger… it had to be done, right?

Christopher turns back to face the knights. “Where is Faraway Avalon?” He asks.

“It is an island across Camelot Castle…” Says Angeline. “You would have to get there by boat.”

“You side with the traitor, Angeline?” Asks Sir Lancelot.

“It is necessary!” Says Angeline.

“…Admit it. You fear the losses he could face, just as much as we do. He’d be nothing if he committed this act.” Says Sir Lancelot.

“You speak of that as if I’d care.” Says Christopher, before Angeline could even retort.

Christopher then speeds past the knights, hurrying toward the nearest dock he can find.

“Wait!” Says Angeline, quickly following after Christopher. “Let me be alongside you!”

The knights follow suit… all of them rushing to the same place… the knights attempting to attack Christopher, but losing him in the chase…

—

'It was days before I had finally reached Avalon… but I got there…'

'The island was decorated with a castle hall-like structure, the late afternoon sun beaming against the hall’s pedestals. It was all that was between me and King Arthur…'

'Before she grabbed my hand…'

“Wait!” Angeline cries, grabbing Christopher’s hand.

“What?” Christopher questions as he turns back to face Angeline. “Angeline? How did—!”

“Let me be alongside you!” Says Angeline. “I want to be with you!”

“…You cannot watch me this time, Angeline.” Says Christopher. “Wait here. I shall return victorious.”

Christopher then leans in, and softly kisses Angeline on the cheek. Her face goes bright red as Christopher backs away.

“…I promise.” Says Christopher, smiling softly.

Before Christopher hurries off, Angeline tightly wraps her arms around the swordsman… Christopher hugs her back.

“Good luck. Be safe.” Says Angeline.

“I will.” Says Christopher, still smiling softly.

He then runs off into the castle hall of Faraway Avalon, ready for his rematch…

—

“King Arthur!” Christopher calls. “I am here for our rematch!”

King Arthur’s steed turns back to the swordsman. He bares the same barren yet eager look from before.

“I was waiting for you. I had an inkling you’d come here.” Says King Arthur. “It seems you feel not an ounce of self pity… that’s alright. It just makes it more sweeter to see you lose.”

“I am not losing.” Says Christopher. “Not again.”

King Arthur can only laugh in Christopher’s face as his steed gallops off.

“…An act of cowardice?” Christopher asks himself. He then hurries after the King…

Although, he’s too fast… he can’t keep up with him, no matter how hard he tries.

As Christopher stops, being out of breath, King Arthur suddenly comes flying back toward the swordsman. Christopher dodges, although barely. The King’s shadow then passes directly over Christopher, landing swiftly back onto the ground and rushing off again. Christopher gets back up and chases after the king again…

Although, he is suddenly paralyzed. Violet threads of electricity slam down onto the ground, a few of them striking Christopher in the process. Christopher then falls to the ground, breathing heavily… despite that, he still gets back up on his feet.

As he runs, a portal seems to appear in front of King Arthur’s steed… and another appear before Christopher as the King’s hand emerges from it, Deathcalibur in it’s grip. The deadly sword slashes around, barely hitting Christopher as he blocks the attack.

…Christopher continues his chase, until King Arthur summons spheres of his own essence… causing Christopher to halt and fall to the ground, out of breath and terribly weakened.

King Arthur then looks back to the knight… he almost felt bad for him. “…And we’ve only just started… I pity you. And so should you.” He says. “…Why don’t we make this a bit more fair?”

King Arthur then flies off of his steed and charges toward Christopher. Just as the King approaches, Christopher lifts his blade up to block the King’s attack. The two blades stay clashed together, King Arthur’s blade barely touching Christopher’s neck.

“…You simply do not know when to quit.” Says King Arthur. “Do you not know how the kingdom will view you once I’ve been slain by your nameless blade? …They will loathe you. You will chastised out of this kingdom. Your image will forever be tainted with my blood…”

“…I do not care about that… I care about my home!” Says Christopher.

“Then why do you persist?” Asks King Arthur. “Why do you keep this up, when you know what will happen to you!? When you know that you could lose everything!?”

“Because this is my home, and my people! If your very knights won’t keep them safe, then I shall do uphold peace for them!” Says Christopher. “This is what I must do! For my home! For my people! For my kingdom, that I will NOT LET YOU TAKE AWAY FROM ME!!”

Suddenly, a bright golden glow surrounds the area. King Arthur is flung away, while Christopher stays rooted to his spot in the ground, his eyes firmly shut.

Christopher peeks upon an eye just a smidge… to immediately see his blade surrounded in a beautiful pristine aura… one that would match the very power of Excalibur itself.

Christopher then becomes completely covered in a blinding white light… he opens his eyes to see pieces of fantastical golden armor surrounding him. The plates of metal slam themselves onto the silver armor that Christopher bore. And his blade, once again, becomes enveloped in an aura… transforming into something greater than anyone could expect.

The greatest of any Sacred Sword that resided in the kingdom of Camelot… Excalibur.

The blade began to settle in Christopher’s hands as his eyes settled upon the blade. A small crown sat upon the weapon’s crossguard, which was also spread out. Surrounding the blade itself was a golden Celtic pattern, centering the blade in all its glory.

The glow finally dissipates, allowing King Arthur to finally witness Excalibur’s might, a newfound motivation, a force of will, filling the swordsman… only for him to scoff at it.

“You can fight me with that blade all you wish,” King Arthur begins. “But you will never see my end!” The King then hops back onto his steed and hurries away.

“…Not unless I retrieve your scabbard.” Christopher says sternly.

Christopher then rushes toward the King, swiftly noticing his increased speed as he begins to levitate off the ground. As he begins to adjust to this new power, King Arthur launches over him again, to which Christopher responds by hovering to the right of the attack, successfully dodging.

“I now your tricks now, tyrant!” Christopher exclaims. “You cannot run away forever!”

“Try to best me all you like!” Says King Arthur. “Whether it be through your tongue or your blade, you shall not strike me down!”

“We’ll see about that now, won’t we?” Christopher questions slyly.

As King Arthur continues to hurry off, Christopher reaches his side… right where Excalibur’s scabbard lay.

Christopher puts a hand out, lifting up the visor of his armor to properly see it, trying to reach for the scabbard…

Although, he doesn’t notice that King Arthur has once again raised Deathcalibur…

Directly above Christopher’s waist.

As Christopher barely reaches for the scabbard, time seems to slow as he suddenly feels a sharp, deep pain directly over his waist.

…Christopher can only watch in utter horror as King Arthur victoriously glares down at his body as he and Excalibur slowly fall to the ground.

“…What did I tell you?” King Arthur asks. “You cannot defeat me… and you won’t even get to live to bask in my glory… a shame, really.”

Christopher can only stare at the victorious King, completely lost for words as his body falls to the ground with a loud clang…

As he can feel his life force fading from him… he sees King Arthur hurry off on his steed, and Excalibur slowly losing its golden luster.

…The silence takes over, and Christopher is left completely alone…. No one to spend his last moments with. No one to cling to as he dies in their arms.

Just as he had been before meeting Angeline… his dear Angel…

…Alone…

—

Angeline waits, a faded and uncertain smile on her face…

…Where was Christopher?

“Angeline!!” A voice calls. Angeline looks back.

She sees the Round Table knights, hurrying toward her. After a moment, they all finally approach the woman, questioning looks hidden by their visors.

“Where is Christopher?” Asks Sir Percival.

“Be weary, for if you fail to comply… you will be charged with treason, and sentenced to death.” Sir Gawain threatens.

Before Angeline can answer, the galloping of horseshoes is heard. The knights look up and bow, while Angeline only looks up in horror. King Arthur lands to the ground, and stares unto them before speaking.

“The traitor has lost.” Says King Arthur. “He is dead.”

Angeline sharply gasps and covers her mouth in fear, while the knights only repress their grief and shock… even if he turned against the knights and defied the King… they couldn’t help but silently grieve. They were his teachers… people he bonded with, until he learned the truth.

…Angeline, on the other hand, was completely overrun by her emotions. Tears formed in her eyes as she hurried into the walls of Avalon, desperately clinging to possibility that he was still there… that the King was lying.

Arthur doesn’t even stop her… as if he wanted to let her see him…

“Christopher!?” Angeline cries, her sobs leaking through her voice as she calls. “Christopher!?”

Angeline continues to call out the poor soul’s name… until she finally finds him…

Angeline can only stare at the sight in horror… all she sees of Christopher is a bisected armored corpse, laying limp and lifeless on the ground, blood having pooled next to him.

“…No…” Angeline begs. “No… this isn’t… this isn’t what was…”

Angeline approaches the corpse, only begging that this was just some horrifying nightmare. She gets to her knees and nudges the body, only to be met with the ice cold chill covering it…

The desperate lady begins to softly sob… which descends into a maddening cry from the deepest depths of Angeline’s sorrow.

All she can do is cry over her love’s body… all hope of him still being alive lost, and replaced with a heartbreaking, soul crushing despair…

—

An assumption of life after death is silence and darkness… a space with no depth, existence without noise… completely void of the life the soul once saw…

So bleak and depressing, although it wouldn’t make you cry… you’d wallow in it. Wallow in your sorrows until this existence faded with the rest of it.

The young swordsman believes life is over, and there is no returning to it…

Although… a small amount of will propels him forward…

~~~

…The sounds of bird’s chirping and wind blowing catches then suddenly enter swordsman’s senses… along with a feeling that his senses are no longer lost…

If he could just…

…Open his eyes…

Christopher opens his eyes, blinking for a moment before adjusting to the sudden brightness of Camelot’s Summer afternoon.

“…I-it’s so bright…” He says, his voice sounding raspy due to lack of use.

All he sees is a misty river just below what appears to be large cliff… he tries to get to his feet…

But he can’t.

He feels rooted to the ground, as if his boots were welded to the stone below him… he tried to move his limbs… yet it felt like he had none… all he could do was shimmy on the rock…

“…W-why— why can’t I move?” Christopher asks himself. “What—!”

“Welcome back.” Says a calm voice.

“Who is there!?” Christopher asks. “Why can’t I move? What kind of sick trick is this?”

Suddenly, a small reflecting pool appears before Christopher, revealing to him what had happened to him… he was swiftly caught off guard.

His limbs and body were completely gone… all of anything that remained of him was his face, now reduced to a pair of eyes and a mouth… the vessel he was now reigning was no longer human…

But rather… a sword… the very sword he had used in his last moments with the King.

“…I-I don’t— I don’t understand…” Says Christopher. “This is some illusion, I swear it!”

“It is all real, Sir Christopher.” Says the voice again, now standing next to the talking sword so he can see her… making her instantly recognizable.

A pink hedgehog dressed in a blue gown, among other teal and turquoise adornments.

“…T-The Lady of the Lake!?” Christopher exclaims. “What are you— what am I—!?”

“Everything will be alright.” Says the Lady of the Lake, Nimue. “I will explain.”

“…Forgive me for my words, but please do.” Says Christopher, desperation and confusion clouding his tone.

“…Your soul has guided you to this new vessel. Your strong will has allowed you another chance at living.” Says Nimue. “You are now a sentient weapon, the one to decide who is worthy of the crown…”

Christopher appears taken aback by the sudden news, but he tries to keep himself collected. “…Forgive me, but I do not understand… I am to choose the King? How?”

“Read them.” Says Nimue. “Their touch will allow you to read their souls. You will find the true King, I am certain.”

“…A replacement for Arthur?” Asks Christopher.

“Yes.” Says Nimue. “A King truly worthy of the crown. A knight of pure heart and courage.”

“…I am— I am honored, lady Nimue.” Says Christopher, still sounding shocked. “I will take this second chance with grace… and make you proud. It is for my kingdom… and I would do anything to protect it.”

“I am grateful.” Says Nimue. “And I wish good luck unto you.”

“I appreciate the gesture, my lady.” Says Christopher.

Just as Christopher finishes his sentence, Nimue disappears, leaving to take in his responsibility in solitude.

…It all felt so stressful… it put a lot of pressure on Christopher… to decide who is most worthy of the crown?

…Despite the odd anxiety of it all, he would take his duty to heart. He would follow it for however long it may take… he’d make this kingdom proud…

“…Oh, Christopher…” Said a new, familiar voice.

Before Christopher says a word, he takes a listen…

“…I truly wish you were here right now…” Says the voice. “I can only be grateful the King let me bury you at all… but… if only I could just… be given a sign that you were here…”

…It was Angeline… he had to call out to her…

“…Angeline.” Says Christopher, loud enough so that she could possibly hear him. “Angeline!”

Angeline turns head back to face the sword that lay within the eroding stones of the Misty Lake… it was when his training had first began. Where his journey to knighthood rooted back to… where else could she have put the sword as a tombstone, if not here, to honor his legacy as a knight… King Arthur wouldn’t let her place his grave in Avalon anyway.

“…Christopher?” Angeline asks, now looking to the sword.

“Angeline!” Says Christopher, shimmying in his spot a bit. “I am here!”

…Angeline then grows suspicious of the shimmying sword, but slowly approaches it.

“Grab my grip!” Says Christopher.

“…'Your' grip?” Asks Angeline.

“Yes!” Says Christopher. “Tug upward!”

Angeline looks down at the sword’s grip, appear in uncertain… what did Christopher have to do with any of this? Could it free him? …Bring him back?

…She grabs hold of the grip… and tugs. Tugs with as much strength as she can muster… but to no avail, as she is unable to pull the sword from the stone.

“…I don’t understand…” Says Christopher. “I’m certain she’d make a great ruler…”

Angeline looks back down at the sword… was it actually speaking?

She looks down at the sword’s front… and is swiftly met with ocean blue eyes staring back at her… she gasps and only looks on at the now startled sword.

“…Christopher?” Asks Angeline.

Christopher’s face eventually softens to a small smile. “I am here, my Angel.” He says.

Angeline’s mouth curls into a small smile before faltering, now appearing confused. “…What happened to you? Are you trapped in there? Do I need to get you out?”

“No, no! I’m alright.” Christopher says reassuringly. “…I am aware this will be confusing, but trust me!”

Angeline hums in confirmation… giving Christopher the permission he needed.

“…I saw the Lady of the Lake… she had said my soul, my will power, gave me another chance at life.” Says Christopher. “And now, I have a grand role to play… decide the one who shall replace King Arthur as the rightful King.”

“…Oh, my…” Says Angeline. “…That is a major responsibility… but I’m certain you could do it. A-and you saw the lady Nimue?”

“Indeed.” Says Christopher. “She was very polite.”

“…Hm…” Angeline then hums in thought. “If you are meant to find the true King, why don’t I gather some villagers from around the kingdom? Surely one of them must be the King!”

“…Possibly.” Says Christopher. “There are a lot of people in the kingdom. It’s worth a try.”

“…It very much is, Christopher.” Says Angeline.

As Christopher hears his name again, he thinks to himself… is such a name worth being the title of sacred weapon? It just felt so… basic… what kind of sword had such a name?

“…Maybe I could go by a different name?” Asks Christopher. “‘Christopher' just doesn’t feel like a proper name befitting a Sacred Sword…”

“…Caliburn?” Angeline asks.

“My surname?” Christopher asks.

“Yes.” Says Angeline. “It represents you… it is you. I believe it would be important to keep a bit of yourself alive, right? You may be in a new body, but you are still you… it even sounds more befitting.”

Christopher then ponders over the name, and her reasoning behind it… and a small smile grows on his face. “…I like that name…” He says. “Caliburn…”

'After our initial exchange, Angeline went around finding those who were willing to have their hearts be tested. Many tried, but none achieved what they hoped… no matter how certain I felt they would be a perfect fit.'

'Even when the visits had died down, Angeline still came to visit. We would talk for hours, learn more about one another… but, suddenly, she stopped showing up…'

'…Then I remembered she had started to fall ill after the visits had mostly ceased, and that a new illness was in the air… I feared the worst when she had stopped coming by… and I never saw her step foot in the Misty Lake again after her most recent visit…'

'I remained in that stone for five years… a period that felt like an eternity, only to me…'

~~~

“And then I found you. And read your soul.” Says Caliburn.

“And?” Sonic asks… it felt there was more Caliburn wanted to say.

“…I was confused.” Says Caliburn. “I picked you, and you were nothing like I thought the true King would be. You were bashful, crass, snarky, and barely trained in swordsmanship, everything I felt a knightly King wasn’t… I just couldn’t see what I was missing for the longest time…”

“…What were you missing?” Sonic asks.

A small, soft smile crosses Caliburn’s face. “…I had an epiphany during your bout with Merlina.”

“…Yeah?” Sonic questions.

“…I didn’t take notice of your strong will.” Says Caliburn. “The very strength of your will is what rekindled Excalibur… despite how snarky and cocky you are, you still had what I had… you don’t care what others say about you. You don’t mind having to play the role of a bad person… you do what you believe is right for the sake of others.”

“Yep.” Says Sonic. “It’s just how I roll.”

“We share the same morals. Same goals.” Says Caliburn, still smiling. “Despite how uncertain I was, a part of me knew that you would make a wonderful King… You have much assisted me, Sonic. I don’t regret my time with you one bit.”

“…Yeah.” Says Sonic as he then smiles softly and turns to face Caliburn. “I don’t regret my time with you either.”

Silence then covers the Woods… before Sonic breaks it with a slight chuckle.

“…It’s kinda weird… Kinda like ya said, we both got our own rules, and they’re mostly the same…” Says Sonic. “It’s kinda like— like you’re my double in this world or somethin'.”

Caliburn hums. “…An odd thought… and yet, it doesn’t feel untrue.”

“Yeah.” Says Sonic.

As the sun passes over the Deep Woods and to the horizon, Sonic thinks over Caliburn’s story.

…It wouldn’t surprise him if Caliburn was in some way like his double in this storybook world... As he said, Sonic was like him. A lot like him, even if it wasn’t one to one. Caliburn was still a gentleman, Sonic was still crass… and despite that, in a sense, they were doubles. Two people sharing similar mindsets to one another…

…It kind of gave him an odd sense of deja vu when he thought about it…

As the last bit of sunlight fell over the Deep Woods, and Sonic had begun his return to the castle… he had new found knowledge of Caliburn. It wasn’t what he necessarily meant by 'getting to know him', but he took it nonetheless. Caliburn’s tale was a nice one anyway.

As Sonic rushes through the Woods, he spots a few leaves brush past him… it was odd, there was no change in the wind that he could feel.

…Although, Caliburn knew exactly what it was as he spots the leaves, which hovered over to his face.

“…Hello, Angeline…” Says Caliburn, quiet enough to where Sonic couldn’t hear him.

As the hedgehog and Sacred Sword exit the woods… Caliburn can hear a greeting returned back to him…

Even in death, they never part.

- END -

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

I Wonder What It’s Like (3/3) - fic

Characters: Jon Kent, Damian Wayne, some Maya and Kathy Pairing: jondami Summary: One person’s bad timing is another person’s good timing. A/N: And *mumble mumble* they live happily ever after. Damian was already curious because the way Jon was holding him in the rescue was the way Clark holds lois in similar situations and ONLY Lois. It was just a giant ‘oh fuck it’s reciprocated.’ moment I guess, so he egged it on.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

~~

It was an alien invasion. Of course it was.

All hands on deck. Justice League, the Titans, and their Teen variety, Young Justice. Even some less desirables like the Outlaws, Suicide Squad, Deathstroke and, well, their own little ragtag group.

And it was a weird time to be thinking about it, you know, punching out aliens and their robot pets over the city harbor and all, that their little foursome didn’t have a name. Didn’t go by anything. They weren’t League and they weren’t Outlaws. They weren’t really…anything. The ace in the hole? The backup?

He didn’t like any of those-

“Focus, Superboy.” Crackled in his ear. He glanced down to the nearby skyscraper. Saw Damian and Maya fighting back-to-back. Felt himself smile. Kicking ass and taking names – that was so them.

It was Damian who had spoken. Damian, who wasn’t even looking at him. Too busy flipping over Maya’s shoulder as they switched opponents.

Jon blinked a few times, then looked back at his own enemy, clutched tightly in his fist, shrieking to the machine that Kathy was taking out a few feet away from him.

“How’d you know I wasn’t?” Jon mumbled, throwing his rock-monster-looking alien towards the ground.

“Because we know you.” Maya chimed in. “And you float when you zone out. Notice how high you are right now?”

Kathy laughed as Jon sheepishly floated back down to where she was. “What were you thinking ‘bout?”

“…We don’t have a team name.” Jon practically pouted. “We’re just…the Other Ones.”

“And that’s a problem?” Damian snorted. “The less who know about us, the better, in my opinion.”

“Oh, right, and your opinion is never wrong.” Maya droned. A moment later she let out a shout, and Jon glanced down to see that Damian had thrown an unconscious and oozing alien right at her. “Okay, no need to be childish, you little worm!”

Damian cackled at her annoyance, and Jon ignored the flutter in his stomach.

“And there was no need for you to open your mouth at all, yet here we are, Nobody.” Damian sneered. Maya let out a string of curses, and Jon watched her throw a body in Damian’s direction. Damian dodged it, and then spoke again, but softer this time, aimed at him. “…Were you just lamenting the fact, or coming up with names yourself?”

“Mmm, both? Neither?” Jon shrugged, shooting himself across the sky to intercept an alien heading straight for a group of fleeing civilians. “I just thought it was odd.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say it, but I agree with Damian.” Kathy said, making a retching noise right after. Maya laughed through the comms. Damian scoffed. “I like it how it is right now, you know? People call us when they need us, and we get to be normal people otherwise. It’s like being a hero part-time, and honestly, after our childhoods? I think the four of us deserve the break.”

“Freelance heroes.” Maya echoed. “I mean, I don’t think actually having a name or title associated with us would change anything, but I suppose I get the general principle.”

“I just mean, like…what if we’re interviewed by the news? Or some little kid asks who we are?” Jon pushed. An alien came flying towards him. He caught it like a baseball, spun, and threw it back from where it came. “The day is saved thanks to…who? Justice League Jr.? The Ghosts? The Powerpuff Girls? Like, what’s our backup?”

“I think concerned citizens would suffice in most situations.” Damian drawled.

“Concerned and capable, that’s us.” Maya mocked.

Kathy laughed at the joke, and Jon just rolled his eyes. He turned towards the water, seeing a new hoard of aliens and their robots coming their way. He sighed – when would this end?

Suddenly, there was a sharp static crack in his ear. In his periphery, he saw Kathy flinch at the noise too. Their communicators, then.

But before either of them could open their mouths to ask, Maya gave a shriek.

“Fuck!” She screamed. Jon and Kathy spun back towards the building their teammates had been on. The rooftop was no longer swarmed with aliens. In fact, the aliens were all scattered and flailing, like they were turtles knocked on their backs.

Jon’s stomach dropped as his mind processed what else was wrong. Maya and Damian were gone.

“Damian!” Maya shouted. Jon saw movement below the roof, glanced down to see Maya scrambling to her feet on the fire escape, pointing straight up into the sky. “Guys, he grabbed Damian!”

Jon’s eye followed her finger, and sure enough, speeding above even his head, one of these rock creatures – but bigger, more reptilian – was flying full speed towards the stratosphere, Damian hanging from his clawed hand by his ankle.

Damian, of course, wasn’t fazed in the slightest. Already had a knife in hand, and was stabbing at his captor’s grip.

Jon’s heart pounded, and he found himself glancing over at Kathy. She nodded, gave him a grim smile.

“Go get him.”

Jon needed nothing else, and felt the sonic boom snap behind him as he took off after the reptile man.

“Does he always break the sound barrier when he takes off?” Maya’s voice buzzed through his communicator. She was most likely talking to Kathy. He paid it no mind. “Or is that just another one of those Damian things…”

But because Damian was, well, Damian, he couldn’t leave well enough alone and kept stabbing at the monster’s fingers. And even as Jon sped towards them, he could see the creature getting frustrated, questioning how worth it it was to have Damian as a captive.

Without warning, he decided that, apparently, it wasn’t worth it at all.

So he dropped him.

Panic electrified Jon’s system, and his breath came up short as he twisted his course to follow a now-plummeting Damian.

What if he wasn’t fast enough? What if he didn’t catch him? What if the alien came back?

What if Damian died? Right here? Right in front of him?

“I’m coming!” Jon found himself shouting, both for himself and for Damian. In freefall, he saw Damian look towards him. “I’m coming, D!”

And as he got closer, flying as fast as he could, he saw Damian believe it, believe in him, and slowly, steadily, reach his hand out.

Jon was almost there. Jon almost had him.

But god, the buildings below them were already so close.

His heart was on fire, the wind in his face was causing his eyes to tear up. But he was close, he was so close-

(And the jagged corner of that skyscraper was even closer.)

-so he reached his own hand out, brushed his fingertips against Damian’s. Watched Damian watch their hands. Watched all fear drain from Damian’s face, turn into blind trust.

Then grabbed his forearm and yanked him into his chest. Held the back of Damian’s head as he spun them, so it was his back that bounced into the corner of the building’s roof, and not Damian’s skull.

The momentum kept them bouncing. Off that first building into another, into a fire escape, into a broken window, into brick, against a dumpster. And all the while, Jon kept tight hold of Damian, kept him curled into his chest, hidden by his cape.

Anything to keep him safe. And alive.

They landed in a heap in the alleyway, Jon’s back against the dirty ground, and Damian spread on top of him. Jon let out a small groan as Damian scrambled up and backed off of him.

“I hate falling. It’s my least favorite part of flying.” He mumbled, sitting up himself. He rubbed at the base of his spine as he glanced up. “You okay?”

“Am I…?” Damian scoffed, holding out his hand. Jon took it, and let Damian swing him up into his space. “You’re really asking me? You’re the one who just crash landed.”

“Being Kryptonian helps with that.” Jon winked. “Besides, you were the one who was just almost kidnapped, and then almost splattered on the pavement. I think it’s a valid question.”

Damian scoffed and crossed his arms, glancing away. “I’m fine…Thank you.”

“Any time.” Jon grinned. But almost instantly, he let the smile drop. Furrowed his brows and, without thinking, reached out, cupping his hand along Damian’s jaw and turning his head. “Hey, what’s…”

He’d seen blood, he thought, coming from Damian’s hairline. Was it from the previous fight, or their fall? Jeez, if it was from their fall, Jon wasn’t sure if he could handle…

But no, it was just dirt. Grime from being in battle all day with no breaks. His bad. He went to smile once more, but found himself hesitating as he glanced towards Damian’s face, and found Damian staring at him with wide eyes. Wide, too knowing, too soulful, too hopeful, too green eyes.

He felt his own heart beating against his chest. Especially as he remembered just how close they were standing. Damian had pulled him up into his chest, and Jon had never backed up.

And Damian never asked him to.

Suddenly, he found himself unable to let go of Damian’s face. Kept his hand glued to the curve of his throat, Damian’s own heartbeat pulsing against his fingers. Swallowed, and could have sworn the whole city heard it.

“Damian, I…”

But Damian cut him off with a simple, blunt demand. “Kiss me.”

Jon stumbled over the noises suddenly coming out of his mouth. Not words, not even thoughts. His attempts at speaking coming out like television static instead.

“Wha…what?”

“You heard me.” Damian said lowly, and Jon could feel the cheek under his hand heating up in the start of a blush. “And you know I don’t repeat myself.”

“You…I…this…” There was a crash a few streets over and Jon flinched. Instinctively shifted even closer into Damian’s space to box him in against the wall, to protect him. Just in case.

He never dropped his hand.

A second later, he realized his movement, and glanced down. Damian was still watching him with those sharp jade detective eyes. The ones Jon could stare into forever, if given the chance. The ones he could see the universe in, that were brighter than any star in the sky.

God, Damian could always see right through him.

“…I don’t think now’s the best time.” Jon whispered, almost desperately. Damian smirked.

“Timing and invasions and life-or-death danger has never stopped your mother and father. Hell, that never stopped my parents either. I’m pretty sure I was conceived in the middle of an assassination plot. On both of them.” A pause, to think, to bite at his lip. “But you didn’t say no.” Damian breathed softly. “Bad timing is not a no.”

“Well, of course not.” Jon rambled – admitted – as he looked off to the side, towards the invasion still happening all around them. Looked at anything but Damian. “But, we have to save the city. The attack is still going, and these aliens-”

Suddenly, there were fists in the front of his cape, and he was being yanked down, lips crashing into his.

Damian tasted better than Jon could ever dream, ever fantasized all those nights alone in his room. There was no distinct taste, but rather…he tasted like the donut Maya had forced him to have for breakfast that morning. The black coffee he’d drank with it.

He tasted like blood and chapped lips, with a fading hint of the cheap chapstick he used because it was a gift from a little girl they’d rescued a few months ago.

He tasted like insecurities and heartbreak. He tasted like a man who had never been sure of anything in his life until this moment, this action.

And Jon wanted to devour him. Jon knew he had to devour him.

Consciously this time, he raised his other hand, held Damian’s face as tenderly as he could. Felt his breath hitch as Damian skimmed his hands down Jon’s chest to grab at his waist.

It felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for this.

Damian seemed to almost melt against him, and when he leaned back those few centimeters to take a breath, Jon guided him backwards, until his spine pressed against the building’s brick wall.

“Jonathan…”

But Jon pushed against him, swallowed his voice. He couldn’t help but smirk, just a little. Damian may have started this, but he had no problem taking control.

And his heart stuttered at the thought that Damian was letting him.

But then, of course – of course – there was a explosion from the building behind them. They broke apart as Damian ducked slightly, and Jon once more hovered over him protectively.

Debris collapsed loudly around them, a sharp rod of steel bouncing off Jon’s back at one point. But as soon as it began to settle, their comms. crackled to life with their allies, friends and fathers calling for them, asking for their locations and statuses. Roars of the aliens echoed all around them.

Damian sighed.

“I suppose…you were correct.” He grumbled as he stood back to full height, looking up towards the clouds.

“About?”

“Now probably wasn’t the best time for...” He whined, waving his hand awkwardly between them. He put his hands on Jon’s chest again, but this time to push him gently back and step back into the street. “There’s an alien invasion to stop.”

Jon watched him for a moment. “…Damian?” Damian glanced over his shoulder. “Are we going to talk about this later?”

Damian blinked, then smiled. But not a hero smile. Not a Robin or Nightwing or Batman smile. A Damian smile. Warm and genuine and just the slightest bit mischievous.

“What’s there to talk about, Beloved?” Damian asked, leaning back and taking Jon’s hand, pulling him forward. “Now come on, there’s a world to save.”

[latin-dr-robotnik]

Hola Sebas! I saw that you really like the character of knuckles and amy rose, and I though...

Do you have some headcanons about them? 👀 I like to think that knuckles and amy can develop a sibling bond.

For example, knux being worried about her and even trying to protect in a sibling way during a battle.

And with amy, she would try to mock out knux in a friendly way like she did in the episode of sonic x where she was saying to him that it was obvious that knuckles was grateful for sonic's help but didn't wanted to say that to him but amy could read that in a spare of seconds

¡Hola anon!

Headcanons? Back at the start of this year I was actually working on an actual KnuxAmy oneshot lol. It was a bit of a personal experiment to try and branch out of regular ol' SonAmy content and into a different type of dynamic. A slower, more intimate one. Although it's still incomplete to this day, the main points were that after some years of relative peace in the world causing the Sonic cast to split up and do their own things, an older Amy decides to drop by Angel Island unannounced to visit the lone guardian of the Master Emerald, catch up on what they've been doing, and maybe remembering some old adventures they took part. It's meant to be a rather chill and intimate read in a post-Forces alternate continuity that takes the two of them around some beautiful vistas and secrets of Angel Island that no one but Knuckles (and maybe Sonic) knew of, while they slowly realize they might have more in common than they think. They're older, their way of understanding life is different, and so they might end up working better as "more than just friends", or at least that's what I was working toward before leaving the project sitting on my drafts haha.

As for actual headcanons, that "they might have more in common than they think" point is something I can stand by for any context, not just my self-indulgent fanfic. Alternate Sonic media like the comics have tried to develop quiet moments between them to strengthen their friendship, and it's something I can also see working as a general series headcanon. Knuckles in the main series is a bit of a wildcard, swinging between being the hot-headed Master Emerald guardian that wants to be left alone (but will chase you to the end of the world if you piss him off or steal the Emerald) in the Adventure days, and a bit of a dumb jerk as of recent games (Gens, Lost World, to some extent even Forces); and while I like both approaches, my ideal Knuckles (as I talked about him in a previous ask) has more of that SA2 Knuckles interacting with Rouge or Heroes Knuckles energy. (I like Heroes Knuckles a lot, he's as ready for adventure as he can be, and he's having lots of fun throughout.)

Anyway, yes, headcanons:

For grumpy Knuckles, the one who doesn't want to be bothered when he's on his floating island, I think Amy of all people is the one that can better connect with him; and while at first he won't let her delve too deep into his own thoughts and motivations, at the end of the day it helps him a lot to know he has a friend that understands him on a more personal level than the rest. That's not to say Sonic and Tails aren't close friends to him, but both of them are always around for adventures and kicking Eggman's ass. Sonic will never have a heart-to-heart conversation with Knuckles because that's not his style, because he understands Knuckles as is, and the only thing he want is for Knuckles to be fine and in shape for both punching shit and messing with each other. But Amy? Amy's empathy is the one key aspect that always carried her very far, and I believe she wouldn't let Knuckles walk away back to his island without talking about it, not because she wants to change him and force him to be more open, more friendly or just a completely different person, but because she wants to understand what's up with him, and reassure him that she'll always be there if he ever needs her. Of course, even if Knuckles denies it, it doesn't hurt to have someone you can chat with when the fate of the world isn't at stake. The M.E. is great and pretty shiny but I don't see it being too talkative (unless you turn it into a real character and... hooo boy that's a rabbit hole for another time.)

As for Knuckles as a jerk, yeah, I agree with both of them bantering a lot. We kinda saw that already with Sonic X, Sonic Generations and Sonic Lost World (Knuckles makes a funny comment about Sonic, Amy immediately retaliates, often with a strong shove involved lol), but I can headcanon Knuckles and Amy being complete jerks to each other. Over every other headcanon, I think this is the one with the biggest sibling energy: Knuckles is the big grumpy bro while Amy is the cheery little sister, and they both go ham having lots of fun mocking and teasing each other, laughing and then having some ice cream together or something before calling it a day. But that's exclusively their thing, do not attempt to make fun of any of them or the other one will tear you to pieces. That "knucklehead" you just mocked is Amy's big bro and if you don't apologize you'll meet her hammer head-on; and don't even get me started on what happens if you make Amy cry (heck, I can headcanon Knuckles threatening Sonic to break all his bones if he ever breaks Amy's heart lol like that "Are you playing with that girl's heart again, Sonic?" Heroes quote but now a lot more serious, haha.)

Heck, take off the KnuxAmy component of my fic and it becomes a decent sibling headcanon: Amy will visit Knuckles over at Angel Island on occasion (don't ask how she gets up there... that's part of Amy's magic), and they may or may not end up spending the entire afternoon talking about Sonic. If Knuckles ever has to come down to Station Square, I'm sure the first person he visits is going to be Amy, maybe even stick around for a cup of tea! He doesn't understand tea, though, or even the concept of a city apartment, so Amy may need some extra patience to teach him how everything works. Sonic may even show up while Amy is teaching Knuckles how to make tea, and he'll make a funny comment about him, causing Knuckles to immediately drop everything and chase after the blue blur across the city only to kick his ass.

So, in conclusion: yes, I was working on getting into older!KnuxAmy and maybe take their dynamic one step further, but for actual headcanons I can see Amy being the only one Knuckles can actually and fully trust, since she can see right through him, leading to probably one of the most solid friendships in the entire series, on the same level as Sonic-Tails, the Chaotix or Shadow-Rouge (don't kill me, shadouge fans... haha... ha.) When Knuckles is in the jerk mood the sibling energy between them goes to the moon, and leads to incredibly fun moments when they playfully mess with each other, laugh a lot and maybe Knuckles gets the chance to learn a bit more of how the world works outside of Angel Island.

[beevean]

How about a top 5 (or 10 if you prefer) best and worst bosses in video games? :D

I’m not very well versed in videogames, but anyway...

WORST

10) Chaos 4 (Sonic Adventure): Not a big fan of bosses who waste so much time - ooh, look at that, trying to hit me with very slow, very telegraphed attacks, and taking more and more time to becomes vulnerable the more the fight progresses. Also not a big fan of Tactical Suicide Bosses (excuse me Chaos, why is your strategy “stay in the water for increasingly amounts of time and then decide to raise my head to breathe”? In this form you’re a fish!). Even less of a fan of bosses that you have to fight three times to complete the game.

9) Sonic and Diablon (Shadow the Hedgehog): They couldn’t have come up with a more boring boss if they tried. Shoot the shield, shoot the cannon, avoid the hand, run away when you hear the word “anti-matter”, kick Sonic in the head, slowly chip at the large energy bar, rinse and repeat. The G.U.N. Fortress version is particularly painful, too, as the arena only offers those piss poor pistols with 10 bullets and minimal damage. And much like Chaos 4, you have to fight this lovely boss three times to get to the Last Story, except you don’t even get a different character with different abilities. Also, poor Sonic, from protagonist of the series reduced to nothing more than a footstep.

8) Collision Chaos boss (Sonic CD): Try to play a boss that relies on wonky pinball physics, that shoots projectiles with the only purpose of changing your already precarious trajectory, in the Bad Future that adds slightly more bumpers to destroy, with the American music (I linked the extended version to properly depict the experience). Pain is real.

7) Egg Pinball (Sonic Advance 3): Surprise! I find this boss worse than the more famous Egg Chaser. Yes, the Egg Chaser is very anxiety-inducing with its bottomless pit and the ball chain sending you into it, but once you learn the pattern of the platforms and that Amy as a partner makes it a joke it’s not that bad. This one, though? Even with Amy/Sonic, which is the only team where your partner is useless but you aren’t, this boss relies too much on luck, expecially by the end when way too many balls are flying across the screen. It’s almost funny, in a “screw you” way, that this is one of the two bosses in the game that can’t be hit by Cheese, in the stage where you finally unlock Cream. Pinball and Sonic don’t mix as well as Sonic Team thinks, apparently.

6) Boost Guardian (Metroid Prime 2, Gamecube): This boss’ strategy isn’t even that bad, it’s just that it hits you like a truck in an environment that is already sipping you of health. If being hit was less punishing, guessing the correct timing to jump over it would be fun. Too overkill for its placement in the game.

5) Mother Brain (Metroid Zero Mission): MB in the original Metroid 1 was... there, with the difficulty of the final boss coming from those stupid Rinkas pushing you into the lava below. In the remake, which otherwise is much easier than the original game, you have to think about the Rinkas, the lava, and MB who shots you fireballs! And if you fall into the lava (and you will spend half of the time in the lava)? She closes her eye and protects her only weak spot, forcing you to wait at the mercy of the Rinkas hitting you all over again. Asshole.

4) Dark Gaia (Sonic Unleashed): Dark Gaia, as a whole, is a stain on an otherwise beautiful game. Setting aside his “character” for a while: this boss is way, WAY too long (the first time I clocked at 11 minutes, like hell I’m trying again), the Gaia Colossus phase is frustrating for how slow it is and for having a nigh-unavoidable attack, the running phase requires pitch-perfect timing otherwise say bye bye to your life, and the Super Sonic phase is essentially “slipping down the shield to run over a bunch of snakes, then QTE up your ass”. Riveting. At least it has some banging music...

3) Egg Saucer (Sonic Advance 2): The bosses in SAd2 are already questionable with their “wind pushing you backwards” physics, but this one flings you enough bullshit to make you ragequit. Whoisthisgit made an excellent video explaining everything that makes this boss such a miserable experience. I am so sorry, Knuckles, that you had to be associated with this tragedy.

2) Antlion Mecha (Sonic 2, Game Gear): So let me get this straight devs, you take a boss that is already a little too had as the first boss in the game, you put it in a console with a much smaller screen, you screw up the slope physics making it just a little too easy to slide into the antlion’s jaws (and of course you don’t have any Rings), and on top of that you make the trajectory of the projectiles random when in the Master System they were consistent? Great game design there, guys :V

1) Spider Guardian (Metroid Prime 2, Gamecube): I was never as close as bestemmiare ogni santo e pure il padre eterno as I was when I was trying to beat this abomination. I love the Ing theme, but FUCK if I wasn’t hating every single sound of it while playing, OH MY GOD I envy the people who played it on the Wii so damn much

BEST

10) Robot Carnival/Storm (Sonic Heroes): Yes! Yes, I do like this boss! I’m probably the only one, I don’t care, I find these fights cathartic, especially with Team Chaotix <3

9) Jet Drill (Sonic 3 & Knuckles): The strategy may be simple, but I love the setup of Eggman destroying an ancient garden just to kill Sonic and I love how it emphasizes how much of a reliable bro Tails is. (let’s just ignore the fact that with Tails alone this boss is a pain...)

8) Doomsday Zone (Sonic 3 & Knuckles): The series had its fair share of Super Sonic bosses, but so far no one has beaten the original. It has excellent music, you can feel the tension as you smartly redirect Eggman’s missiles to him and as you chase him down through space, and Eggman in this game is really ready to do anything to win, I love it

7) Beta mk. II (Sonic Adventure): This is probably the best part of Gamma’s campaign. 90% of it is kindergarten-easy, and then Hot Shelter and the final boss are a sudden, but welcome spike in difficulty. Beta mk. II is a far cry from any other E-series robot you’ve faced, being almost completely invulnerable, hitting you with straight up nukes, and the time is still ticking in the corner. Then you add the context of having to kill your brother, and the deceptively upbeat theme, and it becomes a memorable experience.

6) Cykka (Metroid Prime 2): The first phase is fairly boring, but Adult Cykka is really fun to fight for some reason. Not only it has a cool design, but it’s a fast-paced battle (due to having to use the Grapple Beam to swing from platform to platform) where you have to go ham on the boss at certain points (when it becomes Dark Cykka), my two favorite styles for a boss.

5) Nightmare (Metroid Fusion): A name, a certainty. This boss looks, sounds and attacks in a way that makes you feel confused and powerless. Even at it becomes a game of “climb the stairs, shoot at its ungodly face, jump around to avoid it”, it’s still tense.

4) Ridley (Super Metroid): SM isn’t famous for having great bosses, but they put all of their effort into Ridley and it shows. There’s no strategy here, it’s simply “kill him before he kills you”. At this point you’re pretty much at the peak of your strength, you went through literal Hell to get The Baby back, you’re not going to be stopped by the asshole who killed your parents.

3) Shibusawa Keiji (Yakuza 0): What a beast of a final boss. The first Dragon of Dojima is the perfect foil to Kiryu, having all of his strength and style but none of his compassion, and beating him up to a bloody pulp, especially as you see him become sloppier and sloppier, is so, so cathartic. Also, Two Dragons, what more can I say?

2) Egg Dragoon (Sonic Unleashed): Best boss in the series? I don’t know but it’s surely in the top 10, and it’s ironic that you play as the hated Werehog. Not only it has some delicious music (that generations ruined), but it’s such a fun climax after the hell and a half that is Eggmanland! On one hand, Eggman sounds seriously angry and he is ready to kill Sonic (and if you take too much time, which admittedly is hard if you’re not doing it on purpose, he is positively gleeful while he sends you into a fiery death); on the other, Sonic just rips this giant robot apart like tissue paper, and even if it’s done through QTEs, it looks awesome.

1) Kuze Daisaku (Yakuza 0): I’ll let this say it all. If I had to pick a favorite version, the fifth one was my favorite to fight (by that point you have likely upgraded Kiryu’s abilities to the point of making him a juggernaut), but the second one is iconic for a reason... multiple, in fact. “DIE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

Special mention to Majima in Y1, YK and YK2 because he looks really fun, but I have never faced him myself so yeah.

[gojira007]

So About That Slap

So I was originally just gonna do this as a comment on @thankskenpenders‘ post but

a)       I’d already reblogged that post twice to highlight the on-point comments from @robotnik-mun and @starsandpawprints so doing it yet a third time with my own comments felt kinda tacky?  Plus their comments wound up feeding into my own so doing this as my own post means I can refer you more easily to both of what they had to say (read ‘em here ‘n’ here respectively)

b)      This got kinda super-duper long

And just to preface this with some stuff that I do think is important for context

1)      I do not now nor have I ever condoned or approved of the way Jon Gray or Karl Bollers were treated over what happened in this issue; the harassment they’ve both faced even now about this plot point is utter bullshit on every level and I want to be crystal clear that none of what I say or how I feel here is meant as an attack on them at any level

2)      I’m very aware that this is older than Old News; the comic is literally over, the moment itself happened 15 years ago, and even at the time it wasn’t really The Biggest Deal no matter how the fandom took it.  This isn’t meant to be any sort of Definitive Final Word or whatever on the whole thing; it isn’t even necessarily meant to be Me Venting My Anger. But I do have Feelings on it even all this time later and hey!  Since the topic’s come up again?  I felt like putting them down.

All that having been established?  Let’s dive right in!

So I’ll say upfront I actually agree with a lot of what TKP has to say on the matter!  Not just that the reaction to it as a whole was ridiculously over-blown at the time (and I will admit upfront that at the time my feelings on the topic were pretty raw), but that textually speaking, we’ve been building up to this for a while!  On The Page, there is in fact a lot that informs why Sally does what she does the way that she does (and for that matter I actually do think Jon Gray’s art for the scene really works; I know some have complained that the zippy cartoony look undercuts the drama of the scene but I actually think it places the exact right emphasis on the intensity of the emotions and the violence with which they swing as the scene progresses)!  For that matter I agree a lot with what @starsandpawprints said about how brutally unfair the situation is to Sally when you actually step back and take a look at the circumstances surrounding it!  And to be clear?  I’m a big Sally fan; not only am I already inclined to relate to and sympathize with her character but I think that notion of Sally struggling with these exact sorts of personal issues is a fascinating and worthwhile story to tell with her that could have lead her down some interesting and meaningful paths.

However, I also think @robotnik-mun is onto something when he points out that the overwhelming majority of the audience saw Sally’s actions as unsympathetic and unreasonable.  Only I’d take it one step further: the problem isn’t simply one of perception, but of framing.

For one thing?  As much as we’re all picking up on how ill-considered Max’s choice to put all of this on Sally’s head now of all times is, nothing within the comic itself actually suggest that this is meant to be taken as a poor choice; although Alicia airs her concern over the matter, nothing in the comic suggests that Max’s confidence that Sally can handle it is meant to be regarded as unfounded or foolish (we even get an absolutely-adorable shot of Sally looking super-happy and flashing the V-for-victory sign to go with it), even as it does ultimately prove to be mistaken.  Likewise, there really isn’t anything in this comic or the prior comics that specifically goes into detail about the strain Sally’s relationship with the rest of her friends is under; we may perhaps infer that fact if we’re so inclined from the bare facts but the truth is nothing in the “Home” arc thus far has really delved into it with any real detail.  Which makes sense!  Sally isn’t our point-of-view character here (which poses a problem of its own admittedly but we’ll get to that), we only have so much space in any given issue of this comic, it’s easy to see why that element wouldn’t be deemed relevant enough to go into detail on.  It just also means we the reader aren’t given any reason to view that as a factor in Sally’s emotional state of being; all we have to go on, all the story focuses on, is her fear of losing Sonic again.

And the thing is?  That’s kind of just how she’s been written for a while now.

Again: at the strictest level of what’s on paper, the idea that Sally is suffering from PTSD (and quite possibly Depression, something the fantastic @sally-mun has explored in some really interesting ways) is pretty easy to support, but in the framing I’m not entirely sure it scans.  This exact kind of Emotional Reaction when it comes to the idea that she’ll lose Sonic has in fact been THE go-to Thing Sally has been doing for the last few years in the comic at this point; what happens with The Slap really doesn’t seem all that far removed from how she acts during all that asinine Love Triangle Nonsense with Mina right up to her teary farewell to Sonic in #125.  Which in turn makes it feel a lot less like this is the repercussions of deep-seated trauma rooting their ugly head but rather that as far as the writing is concerned this is just sort of how Sally handles this stuff when it comes to Sonic, which is to say poorly.  Indeed, even the way she’s restricted to staying in Knothole away from the fighting feels less like an example of her parents being unfair, and more like the entirely right course of action to protect her from her unstable Emotions, No Matter How Hard It May Be.

In other words, I don’t necessarily think this is a case of us being meant to sympathize with Sally that we just misunderstood; I’m really not convinced we actually are meant to sympathize with Sally here.

Which isn’t to say that one can’t!  Again, there’s a ready-made case that one should!  It also doesn’t mean I think this story hates Sally and wants us to hate her too.  But a story is more than just raw data, and whatever we might be able to infer from that data, what reactions and feelings the story wants from us comes down to how it attempts to guide us through that data, and in this case it is really hard for me to see that being done in a way that is favorable to Sally much at all.  We as the readers intrinsically know that she cannot be right to ask Sonic to stay: Sonic cannot be meant to Not Be Out Fighting because he’s the Main Hero of the book and that’s just flat-out what he does, to say nothing of the fact that it’s what he wants to be doing, and as the main character his is the point of view we’re generally meant to take, with the book again doing nothing to indicate that we shouldn’t in this case.  Meanwhile, with no real reason to think of all the other factors that could be influencing Sally’s state of mind here, we’re really only left with the one explicit reason she offers, which is that she wants Sonic to stay with her where he’ll be safe.  Not in and of itself an unfair feeling, but in this context?  With a War going on that the rest of the story keeps insistently reminding us about?  As part of a story where we saw that a single year of Sonic’s absence was enough to drive the Freedom Fighters to the brink of destruction?  It’s exceptionally easy to read it as Over-Emotional Sally putting her need for Romantic Security over the safety of the rest of the planet. And while I don’t know that I think the story quite intended it to land that harshly?  It’s really easy for me to feel like it at least wants us to be thinking in that direction.

Because the thing is we get zero insight on what else it is that drives Sally to this point otherwise.  @thankskenpenders put it really nicely during a look at #88: “for a long while now, the main action the writers have permitted Sally is a series of sudden emotional outbursts. We rarely see the action from her perspective, as Sonic is the protagonist and the audience viewpoint character. So instead of being about Sally’s emotional struggles, it becomes about how Sonic can never please Sally.”  By much the same token, what could have been a story about Sally finally breaking under the myriad emotional and psychological pressures that have been building up inside of her in the year she spent stewing in the belief that Sonic was dead while the rest of the world slowly but surely fell apart without him instead becomes a story about how unfair it is for Sally to expect Sonic to be something he fundamentally isn’t simply to make her feel better.  We aren’t given her point of view; nothing prior to this story (and only one thing after this story prior to Flynn about which I have Decidedly Mixed Feelings but I’m trying to keep us focused only on what has already happened up to this point so I won’t go into that here) attempts to delve deeper into her mental or emotional state at this point in time; the framing of the story provides us no context to Sally’s reaction save the apparently-overwhelming strength of her Romantic Attachment to Sonic.  Is that basically business as usual with this comic?  Absolutely; that TKP quote above is in reference to an issue published four whole years prior to this one!  

But that’s precisely the problem for me.

The Slap stands out as especially bad to me because it is the final breaking point where all the problems baked into the approach the book has taken to writing Sally over the years-simultaneously unapproachable and out of focus as a Main Character and yet constantly present, rarely if ever allowed to actually do anything of consequence but always available for a Big Emotional Reaction-came home to roost.  It was a culmination of the bad direction they’d been taking her in for a long time, and as a result it felt the most difficult to reconcile with the character as I’d understood her; back in the day this marked the first point at which I basically dropped out of the comics for a while, keeping my finger on the pulse via online scans and fan reviews but absolutely not going out of my way to pick up and buy new issues as I’d been doing consistently for about as long as I’d been a fan prior to that point, and it was because I really just didn’t understand what they were doing with Sally’s character, my favorite character, anymore at all.  These days I’m more sensitive to the Behind The Scenes realities that drove this choice, and also just older and more mature in general such that it’s not quite as upsetting.  But I won’t lie (in case the preceding near-2000 words didn’t convince you already): even now I think it’s a pretty bogus choice all things told.  One that could have worked?  Sure!  One that did?  I don’t think so at all.

[cutegirlmayra]

Emotion Sonamy Prompt

Couple: Sonamy

World: Sonic X (loosely based off of. Mostly for Sonic’s character traits.)

Go!

“No!” Amy’s head shook, her fists up towards her, as electrical waves sparked different parts of her mind, coming from a secret mechanism that was tucked under headband without her knowing.

In her frenzy, unable to control her words or emotions, Sonic slowly advanced to her, seeing she was getting dangerously close to a cliff.

“Amy... Just think a sec..” Sonic was taking the moment very seriously... He knew something was wrong with Amy, she may be dramatic sometimes, but not hysterical.

He held a hand out, but she once again, in a violent movement, shook out her body to try and get him away, stepping back as some pebbles fell the depth of the cliff behind her foot...

“Urk..!” Sonic bit down on his teeth, a sweatdrop dripping down, seeing that this was getting dangerous fast!

He couldn’t talk her out of it, she was too far gone in... in whatever was wrong with her!

He had to move fast, to where she couldn’t react fast enough to fight back.

He narrowed his eyes and waited a second...

Something in him not wanting to have it come to this...

“Amy,.. just calm down. What’s wrong?” Sonic held out his hands, trying to talk to her.

Her swinging of her body never stopped, as she gripped her head, and then finally remained still. “Leave me alone.... alone... all alone...” She was muttering nonsense, so far as he was concerned.

He lowered his head.

“GO AWAY!” Amy’s abrupt shout made the ground under her begin to crack, and Sonic’s immediate instinct couldn’t be held back anymore.

“You leave me no choice..!” Sonic dashed forward, fast enough to get a hold on each arm.

“Let me go! Let me go!” She wasn’t even able to look at him, it seemed, as her whole body fought against him, moving back towards the edge.

Sonic used every bit of tension in his body... wishing he didn’t have to be rough with her... but she wasn’t making being ‘the nice guy’ easy!

He quickly tried to thrust her behind him, but her stance was unmovable. There was some sort of frenzied power she was summoning up, and she was even proving a challenge for him!

“Erk...A-Amy...” he suddenly saw her jolt, and looked up to notice a spark from her headband. “Huh..? Hmm.” he glared, realizing his next move.

He pulled her arms forward and himself back, using her energy against her, as she fell forward and grabbed her headband.

Since the mechanism was connected underneath it, he saw it slip a little, with chords and without thinking, immediately disconnected it, ripping it off her head.

The result of which was painful, as the chords were sucked off her skull and started flinging around sparks in the air, before Sonic let Amy stumble forward.

Her headband in one hand, and the mechanism in another, he quickly threw down the headband and broke the mechanism with his knee. “Ruah!”

Amy breathed heavily, as she followed the energy of being pulled forward and ran into the forest.

Sonic looked back to see she still wasn’t herself, and put a hand forward to rush after her, before hearing Tails...

“Sooooniiiccc!” Tails waved, flying down, and watching Amy disappear into the dense forest. “..What’s going on?”

“....” Sonic looked down, worried.

“Sonic..?” Tails turned his attention back to Sonic.

“Take this.” He gave Tails the device.

“Ah,..! This..?”

“I’m going after, Amy.” Sonic took off into forest.

“Wait! What is..!? Aaand you’re gone.” He sighed, before feeling a spark on his hand. “Ow! ...huh?” he looked at the device, and then nodded, turning around and flying off. “Knuckles! New plan! Meet me back at my place!” he spoke into an ear piece.

“But what about-?”

“Not now! I think something might have happened between Sonic and Amy! And I think this device might have a connection to it.” he held it up in front of him, and then narrowed his own eyes in conviction. “Hang on, Amy! Sonic!”

Furthering her run, the effects of the device started to wane, and she looked around her, before breaking down in tears, falling and losing all the adrenaline she had once had. Being able to think clearly, she looked around, gripping her head. “What... why did I do that..? Why was I...?” she felt so vulnerable, clinging to her arms to hold herself, she just wanted secure shelter, something to help her calm down.

As she cried, she looked around and started to get back up, clumsily, and dashed away.

Falling again on her face, she slowly looked up through the pain of the impact to faintly see a tree with a dark hole just under it.

She crawled to it, seeing some form of protection and comfort in it, and immediately brought her knees up and held her hand near her face. She was confused, not sure what had just happened, but was extremely upset about something, and couldn’t understand why.

“What would have Amy dash off like that?” Knuckles asked, as Sonic raced through the forest, taking any path, any direction... Amy’s headband held tightly in one of his hands.

“I don’t know... all I do know though, is that this device-” suddenly, his readings zinged to life, and he quickly looked up to his monitors. “Ah! Of course!” he quickly dashed to another monitor, typing things fast as a blue dot, moving wildly around the board, side to side, and a pink dot blinked a while away from him.

“Tails..?” Knuckles walked up to him, “Care to let me in on your discoveries?” he folded his arms, and made a bit of an offended face.

“R-right, sorry. It’s just...” he quickly turned on his communicator.

As Sonic dashed to and fro, he heard the mic on his ear turn on, and Tails’s worried voice flicker on. “Sonic! I found out what happened to Amy!”

Sonic turned to look back to the sound.

“Amy’s somehow gotten this thing to latch onto her head, it then sends pulses like sparks into certain parts of her brain, triggering emotional distress. Amy’s having an emotional episode she can’t just naturally come down from! You have to her find! She’s probably slowly coming too, but that doesn’t mean her body still won’t be suffering from the effects. You’ve just gotta make sure she’s okay, Sonic!”

Sonic, with every bit of being in him, ran quicker.

“I have her on my monitor, move west.”

As if on command, Sonic kept his face forward, and immediately turned to the direction.

“Now Southeast! Not so fast! Stop! It says she’s right around there somewhere.”

Gripping her headband, Sonic walked around and couldn’t see anything. “She’s not here, Tails.” Sonic kept a low tone, before his ear flickered at an odd sound. “Wait.. I’m getting something..”

He clearly... was hearing sobbing.

“!” his eyes widened quickly, and he took out the ear piece, “Found her. Keep the garage open, I’m bringing her in.”

“Sonic! Be careful! She’s still in a lot of emotional distress and discord! You need to be patient.. and... please, be kind! She can’t think straight, nor control what’s she feeling!”

“...Thanks for the heads-up Tails. I’m going in without you.”

“...R-right.. be careful...”

The communicator flickered off, and Sonic stopped right in front of the tree.

He slowly bent down, and moved under.

Her whole body quaked at the sight of him, and she kicked herself further into the tree. Her eyes looked terrorized, and shifted over him a billion times.

As he watched her, he completely forfeited the whole ‘talk it out’ strategy from before, and slowly moved in closer.

She duck her head down, “Don’t!... D-don’t come near me... I... I’ve never wanted to be alone... as much as I do right now.” she had her hands under her, as they shivered and she couldn’t control their shaking. “I... I want to be alone.. I want to be shoved under this tree and never come out! G-go away!”

“....You’re never alone... Amy.” Sonic just normally moved into the space available, and watched out for any resistance.

Surprisingly, she only flinched and brought her knees up again, trying to keep as far from him as possible.

“Ohhh... oooohhh...” Tails paced back and forth, clearly agonizing over the scenes of what Amy must be going through, according to his data.

“So... Amy’s having a bit of a crisis... and turning into a mess. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before, right..? She’ll be alright, the thing’s off her head, anyway.” Knuckles, not doing a great job of comforting, was trying to point out the positives to him, hoping to calm him down. “And this is Sonic we’re talking about. You know how Amy is.” he shrugged, as Tails furiously whipped around.

“NO! You don’t understand at all!” he quickly moved over to the broken device, and put a plastic bowl over it.

“This is Amy’s brain.” he explained, and then hit something on the keyboard.

Suddenly, A thousand sparks, mostly centered in one general direction, flew up at random moments, striking similarly to the same area.

Tails looked more serious than ever, “If this thing wasn’t broken, I’d calculate it’s speed to be 20 shocks per minute, which is mostly aiming for the trauma side of the brain. Whoever implanted this here, wanted this to cause a meltdown in it’s victim. In other words-! Even Sonic hasn’t deal with this kind of fragile imbalance Amy must be displaying! Her emotions are taking over and draining her. This literally is trying to simulate stress! Do you know what happens in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?” Tails was almost shouting these things now, making Knuckles worried, seeing as Tails was also losing it over this.

He looked at the machine, seeing it’s effects burn a small portion onto the plastic bowl...

“The brain naturally creates a channel, literally carving it into itself, for stress that can’t be naturally released. Amy couldn’t naturally release this strain on her side of the brain, and because of where it was aimed, it literally PAVED A HIGHWAY in her mind! Making it easier for her to suffer from it again and again! Messing with the brain is never an easy fix! Sonic-!”

“Will find a way!” Knuckles finally blurted out, dropping his hands in the exasperated gesture. “Look. I may not be as fancy with mechanics as you are, Tails. But I know Amy. She’s tough. And I know she’ll find a way to... release or whatever you were saying, the stress from her head.” He put his hands on his hips, and waited for a reply.

“...But it won’t go away that easily...” Tails looked down, doubting...

“Let’s face it. Sonic’s probably not there for an easy fix, either...” Knuckles folded his arms. “He’s probably just as worried as we are... he’s just trying to stay calm and think things through. Isn’t that what you’re always telling us?”

Tails closed his eyes, accepting that this was as much help he could give Amy right now, and there was nothing he could do. “You’re right.” he lifted his head, and looked back to the screen. “If anyone can set Amy, even just a little bit back to her right self... then... she’ll be okay.” His eyebrows bended back, afraid his friend may suffer longer than just the coming out of the moment... it was an episode alright.. and he had no idea how long that thing had been on her head, and how long it had kept her from wondering about it...

“...Amy? Do you remember that time you were scared to jump... over the ravine?”

Sonic was laying on his back, hands under his head, as Amy continued to try and breathe calmly to the side.

“.. I... I don’t.” she admitted.

“Huh? Really? Oh... well, you were very brave.” Sonic smiled, remembering the fond memory.

“I told you not to look down, but of course, you did anyway, and even then you trusted me to catch you. It wasn’t a long drop or anything, but I held onto you tight, and in the end, you thought it was fun.”

He turned back to look at her, “You sure you don’t remember that?”

“My head hurts.” she quickly responded, clutching her hand to her head.

“...Hm.” Sonic got up a little, moving over to her.

She flinched, “No-!”

He caught her hand gently, “Just... relax... Amy. I’d never hurt you.” he didn’t like having to say that. It left an uncomfortable feeling throughout his being...

He normally would never have to say that, it would have just been obvious.

He reached a hand and noticed the spots where the wires must have gone... and frowned deeply, seeing they had singed her hair.

“I... I remember... Metal Sonic.”

He moved his hand, immediately looking down to her.

She still was clutching her head, “I.. I remember his eyes... I remember how scared I was... I... I’m afraid. Even now I can see him!”

“Amy!” Sonic put a hand down, “Calm down!”

“No! I want to be alone! I want-... I want my head to stop throbbing!” she tried to push him off, but he ended up just embracing her.

As she fought him, he held her there.

The kicking, screaming, and crying was definitely not her, but from what Tails said, this was her body’s reaction to the mind’s distress. She didn’t have much control over herself.

When she finally lost the energy to go on, he lowered his head, his eyes completely shut and unseen in the darkness.

“...I remember that. I rushed in and saw you huddled up, much like this, and I remember the second you saw me too... and how fast that smile came on to your face.” He pulled back, and noticed she was exhausted.

He thought maybe she passed out, and even though that made his heart beat a second faster in panic, he had to say this... at least, it could be the last bit of comfort she hears before completely falling out of consciousness.

“... I would do anything... to keep that smile on your face always... Amy.”

He had to hold her under him as he crawled out, but after doing so, he felt her squirm, and realized she wasn’t completely knocked out yet.

“Amy?”

“Ughh...” she blinked her eyes a bit, and then held onto him tight.

“...I ...” she breathed out, eyes still closed, as one hand found his arm, and held onto it with the last of her strength. “I remember this... you holding me... after all that... I felt so happy... so relieved.. for once in my life... I had someone to help me when I was scared... or lonely... or depressed... I felt... safe...”

Her head dropped.

“Amy..? Amy!” Sonic shook her, but she didn’t seem to be responding. “Dang it!” he quickly looped her around and held her over his shoulder, moving so fast that bridal style would have been a hassle.

Getting her to Tails, who did in fact open the garage door as he was told to do, rushed her in and immediately checked for drama signs.

For a few days, the team would keep one member with Amy, while they finished the adventure.

When Sonic finally found out the reasons behind the device, that it was a test to see if it could work, he was fuming with rage.

Needless to say... that adventure ended quickly.

It was Sonic’s turn this time, and as Amy walked out of her room, she saw him reading on Tails’s couch, before looking up and stumbling to his feet, and then slowly rising off his knees, having falling off the couch in his surprise, and the two stared at each other.

“...Morning.” Amy loosely smiled, before it faded quickly.

She was leaning on the frame of the door, and one arm gripped the other.

She still looked a bit timid and frightened, unsure of herself or her surroundings, but Sonic took a deep breath and tried to not let that get to him...

as it... did before.

“Heh. I think you mean afternoon.” he gestured to the window. “You’ve been out and back a few times from sleep, Amy... you never stay up for more than a few minutes... but... I am glad to see you moving again.”

“...I’m sorry.” Amy turned her head away from his. “I caused you all so much trouble... I made the adventure suck, didn’t I?”

“... It wasn’t an adventure, more like a nuisance.” Sonic folded his arms, and Amy squinted her eyes more shut. 

“But that wasn’t because of you. It was because someone had done that to you.”

Amy opened her eyes and looked back to Sonic, feeling uncertain.

“...Does that mean.. you found out..?”

“Yeah. But we can talk about that later.” Sonic walked up to her, “Hungry?”

“Famished.” she smiled.

For the next few days, Sonic was almost gentlemenly. He would move her chair out for her, act out funny scenes to make her laugh, and even bring her food. “Chilidogs! From the best place in town!”

She giggled, and Tails finally confirmed her emotional trauma was being treated well.

“It may always be a scary thing in the back of your head... but now,” He smiled, relieved at the results. “At least you can laugh again. And not feel like you’ve got something firing a railroad through your skull.”

For some reason, after that moment, Amy felt Sonic be more protective of her during Eggman attacks, but would always smile when she noticed it.

Not only was it showing that the trauma may have affected him as well, but it also showed he meant what he said.

“...You’re never alone...”

(I wrote this starting at 2 Am, it’s 3:30 am, goodnight everybody!)

[amongthesharks]

Twin Stars, Twin Hearts 2 (Bodhi Rook/reader)

Read on AO3: Here 

The first thing you notice is the massive pain running from your neck down your spine. You stir and it agitates it. There’s a muffled sound by you, in the darkness, then a cooling cloth on your cheeks and forehead. You feel your face twitch into a soft grimace and slowly open your eyes, blinking into the bright lights of what seems to be the cabin.

“Y/N…” The voice, Bodhi, says in confirmation of his own relief. “Kaytoo, she’s up.” He said into his comm. You turn your head to look at him. Someone wheezes, you realizes it’s you as your lungs burn with the large intake of breath. You try to move, but a hand steadies you. “Hey, no we are not doing that.” Bodhi softly, or is he talking normally and you just can’t hear clearly. Your eyes begin to slip close and he pats your cheek a few times. “Y/N, you have to stay awake. We’re almost back to Yavin. I think you have a bad concussion.”

“What…” The sound that comes through your throat is raspy and strained. Breathing stings and you start coughing and pain explodes through you. Bodhi mumbles to himself a moment and reaches out for a bottle and puts it to your lips. Gently, so gently, he lifts your head. You drink and the cool liquid seems to soothe you some. There’s a bit of silence, you feel like sleeping again but Bodhi begins to speak.

“We didn’t realize…” His mouth opens and shuts a few times. “We would have waited for you to be properly strapped… We found you crumpled in the gun well, smoke and blood. I only know so much about patching someone up... “ You look at him, trying to stay focused. Concern creases at his brow, he still seems a bit out of focus.

“Back…” More of a whisper than a question.

“Yeah, Looks bad. Not broken just.” His head tilts some and his brows furrow more, if that’s possible. “I’m just a pilot…” His mouth hangs and you smile, just a bit, and he softens.

“I’m tired, Bodhi…” You sigh, and let your head lull slightly to one side.

“No… no no. No sleeping.” He said in a slightly panicked tone. And you groan and try to move. “No moving. I promise, not much longer. Uhm…” he tries to push back his hair, nervous habit, but the cropped length keeps him from following through with it. “How’s your throat? Why… not tell me something…” You frown slightly, but talking might just keep you awake enough. K2 warbles over the comm, they must be coming out of hyperspace. You almost zone out thinking it over, looking at Bodhi’s hopeful face.

“In… Jelucan, I lived on a farm that raised muunyaks.” You smile at the memory. Your mother and you turning the munnyaks loose to graze when there was enough vegetation to do so. Helping you father with milking and birthing. “People used them… to go over mountains.” You swallowed thickly and began coughing again. You felt Bodhi’s arms around you, holding you still so you wouldn’t hurt yourself further. When the fit passed you slouched into him, a silence spreading through the room. Softly, his voice filled your ear.

“I was born on Jedha. Near the holy city.” You can feel sleep trying to take you, but though soft, his words hold a strange pain. Jedha. With the crater in half the world due to the Death Star. “My mother, she was beautiful. She wanted me to do great things and leave the planet. Do all the things she’d never be able to do.” He paused, easing you back down into a laying position. “She sold food in the market, the favorite stall of all the natives and pilgrims. Her hair always smelled of spices...” He trailed off again and blinked a few times, was he crying? No. But it was hard to tell, your vision was swimming a little.

“It’s okay…” You said giving his hand a limp pat. “It’s okay…” You don’t remember what happened from there as you seemed to slip back into darkness.

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

You awoke in a panic, submerged in a bacta tank. Either the struggle or heightened heart beat bought a droid over to the tank. It went round the tank a moment, observing before draining the tank, releasing you from the substance. Now, you stand in nothing but damp underthings shivering as the droid takes your vitals.You’re mentally still in shock and you’ll still have some aches, but all the other damage has been healed. There had been damage to the lungs that the doctors were able to heal in enough time to not have lasting damage. There had been lacerations to your back, but the bacta healed that up well enough. That was the worst of the damage. It took two days in the tank, and they bring you up to speed on your health. The doctors help you to the med-bay sonic shower. You’d much rather have jumped in the river near by, you still feel like you have a film of bacta on you. Someone had brought a pair of your clothes over and you dressed in silence, testing your joints as you move. You thought you’d be leaving right away but instead, you find that you’re about to get a debriefing...from Cassian Andor who looks livid. He starts slowly, going over some parts of the mission, but it’s not long before he’s just exploding.

“What happened out there!” He seethes, his accent making his words more pointed. You realize now it’s less debriefing, more chiding.

“We made it back, with the information….” You start, though your mouth feels thick and cottony.  

“You compromised the mission. You’ve never given me problems before, Y/LN.” My last name? He’s really pissed. You glance down but Cassian was unrelenting, his finger jabbed at your shoulder. “It was the easiest mission-”

“She wasn’t on the roster!” You clap back, finding your courage for a moment. “I can’t know if someone's there if the roster isn’t up to date!” A wave of nausea falls over you, making your body sway a moment before charging forward. “We didn’t stick around, we left, I shot some TIEs and we got home.”

Cassian tried to grab your arm as you drew past, but you snatched it away and froze in your tracks. He stared at your back a moment, He’s probably wondering if he should continue ripping me a new one, you think, but don’t turn to face him. It seems to be a nonverbal stalemate, but Cassian is the first to relent.

“I’m going to send you a datapad with the rest of the debriefing. You will come to me in the morning and report, Y/LN.” He said curtly. He was mad, he had a right to be. You should have never faltered during the mission, kept walking right past the group keeping in complete character. But you never thought the past would come back to haunt you like that. You straighten a moment and then turn your gaze on Cassian.

“Yes…Captain Andor…” You sigh and wander out of Medbay to find your bunk. You may have just woken up but sleep, real sleep, is what you wanted now. Your feet carry you out of the bay and turn you down the hall. Bodhi is there, sitting on the floor with his head resting back against the cool temple walls. He’s murmuring to himself with his eyes closed, you only notice because you practically trip over him. You catch yourself on the wall and Bodhi snaps his eyes open and clambers up to standing, moving to help you. But you wave him off and laugh just a little.

“What are you doing?” You ask trying to look less tired and more okay than you are. Bodhi gestures vaguely behind him.

“You were out for a few days. I had heard you woke and…” He trails off losing his thoughts for a moment, then he seems to jump to a new line of thinking. “I told them to hold some food in the mess for you. They just finished breakfast.” His smile is boyish, relieved to see you standing mostly hale and hearty. You waiver just long enough to see his smile wane, he tucks his head some and takes a step back. “You probably have oth-”

“Hey, no, let’s go.” You say, mustering some brightness to your voice. “I’ll rest better on a full stomach.” You swing an arm over his shoulders, feeling him sway with the motion. The ache of moving to that extent pulls at you, but this way you could almost lean on him. “Catch me up. Cassian was a downright ass in there.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen some. “You should have heard him when we landed! Kaytoo was no help. And I thought Saw was scary? Cassian being crossed is even worse.” He joked, which made you smile abit. He’s starting to make jokes. It’s good, or you hope it’s good. Bodhi didn’t talk about those days much, you only knew what happened from debriefings and rumors.

“I’m sorry, it was my fault, it seems.” You said as you both turn a corner, some pilots wave in your general direction, and you wave slightly back. “I was in charge, it’s my blame. I let my guard down. Put you and his droid in danger. I’m sure the datapad his left me is puts me in scathing light.” You roll your eyes some and look back at Bodhi who seems to have just been smiling while you chattered on. You give a short puff of a laugh. “Rook, you need to grow your hair back out. You look like you’re twelve.” He looks aghast.

“I do not.” He subconsciously rubs his face over his cheek. His beard had just started to slowly come back in, a short sparse stubble. You free your arm from around him and muss up the back of his head. You can feel the patches that are missing, where the scars from Bor Gullet were. He seems to notice and shifts away from your touch. Your thoughts from the trip resurface in your mind. The terrors he’s been through still are close to the surface of his psyche.  He may be making jokes, but it still pains him, embarrasses him.

“A bit. Does make you look younger.” You say, trying to keep the levity going. Bodhi scratches above his ear in gentle thought as you reach the door. You thumb the code into the mess hall, the smell of food hits you. Where you didn’t think you were hungry before, you feel ravenous now. Moving to the whims of your stomach, you trip forward, taking lilting steps toward the serving area.

You don’t get a choice, though, in food. But Rin, a female Twi’lek, had saved a good portion off to the side, and an extra tray for Bodhi. You try not to frown, your plate had a lot of the food you tended to avoid. Rin catches the look and shakes a pale teal finger your way.

“Eat it, all of it.” Her accented tone was admonishing. Everyone had it out for you today. “I made sure I gave you all the things to make your strong.” She gave you a pointed look and you slowly withered under her gaze.

“Yes, alright, Rin. I get it.” You mumble and smile, just a bit anyway. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, thank your friend.” She pushed one her her lekku behind her shoulder, a Twi’lek version of a hair flip and walked to finish cleaning up. You take up the trays, and walk to where Bodhi had settled at. His leg bounced, his fingers drumming near his temple, anxiously working through something. You stride over, settling his tray down which startles him out of his thoughts, then your own. You have mostly greens, seems like that was the most left behind thing. Rin swore that these greens had more protein than the meat they served here but you were sure the meat tasted better.

“Thank you.” He said gently and you snort softly.

“No, thank you. I would have just gone to bed hungry.” You muse and push around the greens on your plate, finding the few bits of meat hidden in the meal.

“You were going to bed? But you just got out of the tank.” Bodhi noted curiously, leaning over his food some to eat, he didn’t care what it was, food was food and it was better than some of the food he’d get in imperial service. You would know. Pilots didn’t get the best meals, just fast ones.

“Yeah but I want real sleep.” You say tearing off a piece of the bread to sop up some juices. You don’t want him to worry about it or think on it long. “Tell me more. Was the data we got helpful?” You ask quietly and and stuffed the sopping bread in your mouth. Bodhi bobbed his head a few time, working through his bite of food before pointing his fork your way.

“It was. It got us updated base points, and we may be able to move bases soon. The Empire is still reeling from… from what we did.” He frowns a moment. You share that cold feeling too. There were people you knew, good people, on the Death Star when it went down. This was war, though, and it sometimes made you stomach turn. Both sides have done things they’re not proud of. You brush your fingertips over his. Go on, you try to say, silently.

“They are going to send out a scouting party to a few potentials. But I’ll be sad to leave all this. It’s so green.” He laughs a moment and you grin at him, sharing that sentiment.

“This Moon has been a good place, I enjoy how different it is from home. I don’t miss the dry cold of the mountains.” You snort at that. “I hope the new base is just as warm.”

“I don’t miss the cold at all.” He said excitedly. “I mean, home, yeah I miss home.” He said stumbling a bit over his words but he picked it right back up. “But cold desert nights? Terrible.” He waves his hand in the air as if shooing it all away. Then he’s laughing. And so are you as you double over a bit. You both see glimpses of yourselves before the war, a brief moment of being carefree. In your laughing you give a few ‘ow-ow-ow’s and rub at your sides. “You alright?” His voice still chipper, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, just a bit tender still.” You sigh and stab some more greens onto your fork. “Thanks Bodhi. Really.” You two both smile, a fall into a comfortable silence, and eat your meals.  

[kittydarlingplanets-blog]

Sometimes we do the right thing and it spreads like a game of telephone  on the playground. That’s how this election has felt to me. At first there were these little whispers of this guy… this guy who once had a punk band that was over on the border. Not Mexican, but has a Mexican name term of endearment nickname. Young. Handsome. Schooled at Columbia. All the beautiful secret things that are the real Texas. 

  See. I’m a native Houstonian. I love my fucking city. I also hate my fucking city. Or rather, I grew up hating it. I hated the burbs and the shit kikkers and the red necks and that we were known for whiny country music and rodeos and horrible accents that sounded like we were a bunch of dumb hicks. What I loved about Texas was so subliminal I didn’t even realize it until I left for awhile. Moved to another state and found out that my entire mindset was formed yes, of course by the books I had read and the education I’d received, but the foundation of who I was? The rock bottom core of my soul? That was Texas, folks. Drenched in sweet barbeque sauce and sizzled on the triple digit Houston sidewalks. 

They say that you don’t have to ask someone where they’re from who is from Texas. They’ll tell you before you get the chance. This is truth. Another thing I didn’t realize until I lived outside the state. Other people would go around the school or work meeting and mention children or accomplishments.

The first thing that would come out of my mouth was I’m from Texas. I began to realize that Texas is a State of Being. It’s a State of Mind. You can take the me out of Texas, but you can’t take the Texas out of the me.

You sir, may go to hell. I am going to Texas.–Davy Crockett

Like so much of life, being away from home made me appreciate it. Then respect it. Then realize I’d not so much been in love with it as it coded into my soul.

I mean, I’d known when I’d driven the long stretches of road listening to the Fabulous Thunderbirds, which to me was Austin where I spent half of my time my college years dancing at the Continental Club or Club Foot and eating chicken fried steak, or when I’d gone to Lubbock to the Buddy Holly Festival that Joe Ely always played  in the closed down streets celebrating his idol and his own hometown.

I  taught myself to speak without an accent and read a lot of books. And the only thing I knew to do was reject everything that was symbolic of what I hated–small town thinking from small town sensibilities. The illiterate by choice. Cowboy boots unless they were worn by Keith Richards or Joe Ely or Joe Strummer. (I now love them  beyond.) I hated and hate hunting because you know, slaughter. Prefabricated neighborhoods outside the inner city loop where people lived who wanted yards as flat as football fields and houses too big and character-less for anything useful and huge expensive cars and a commute that stunk up the city and blocked the highways. Even then, back then, 40 years or more ago, it all felt wrong. Too much. Nothing good could come from so much….so much… waste….  clutter.

It was like Benjamin Braddock at his graduation party being told about plastics. It was Jack in the Box having too many damn menu options when all anyone needed was the Jumbo  Jack and fantastic flat Super Tacos that could be put in an envelope and mailed and Frings–a mix of french fries and onion rings and those dollar menu chicken sandwiches. Everything else was just too precious and absurd.

At 16 I found the Rocky Horror Picture Show and a mass of people that were not the same as those who frequented Katy High School, home of rice farms and small minds. At 17 I went to work at an AMC Theatre and found a bunch of misfits like myself who couldn’t quite get behind Friday night’s lights and shopping malls filled with generic crap. At 18, I found Herschel Berry and the Natives at Anderson Fair and my real love affair with Texas began.

What I learned from local music, what I learned from punk rock–was that in fact, love is all you need. That even the freaking Hard Rock Cafe is right–Serve All Love All. That hidden beneath the Urban Cowboy shit was this city of mystery and secrets. There was this unreal music. There was all night Tex Mex with kick ass juke boxes and those who frequented it. There was this love and honor among the punk rockers and the aging hippies and the drag queens and the gay men and the homeless teens and all of the others who didn’t fit into the Lone Star State stereotype  regardless of color or sexual orientation or socio economics.  You just didn’t know until you left the comfort of your sedan and talked to the people in the streets. We just didn’t let the others know. It was ours. They could have the rest.

Eventually someone would rise out of here or out of a place just like here that encapsulated all that is bright and beautiful and blazing about Texas. Our real culture. Our blended population. Our love of music that defies labels, like  Herschel, or Alejandro Escovedo. Our mixture of punk and cowboy that pulled in Strummer to hang out with that cowboy guy he liked, Ely. It’s not just music or clothing. Those simply reflect the ethic that is here. It’s mom and pop diners and taquerias and dive bars and little music halls. It’s a hot humid wet sweater of a place that is so deranged that out of it comes the Art Car Parade and the Orange Show and even a secret serial killer that only the locals know about, despite the liklihood he could possibly have the highest body count of all time. Before craft brew, we choked down Lone Star Beer in bottle necks because it was local, even if it tasted and still tastes like rat piss. It’s local heroes like old  lonesome Howard Hughes. That’s how we do things here. We have musicals written about our whore                                                            houses.

We create a legacy of cadallics buried in the dirt of what would be wasted landscape. We once had a pig here tattoed with wings. This is how we do art.

Houston still is the mystical and beautiful and secret place. This club for those in the know, on the inside. The cool kids. Most of those places  we frequented are still here. Preserved. Not just moments in time but part of the spiderweb that holds up our city even as it sinks into the swampland we are built on. Key words. Code words. Houston is a small small town, baby.

So the whispers started and slowly the buttons and bumper stickers began to emerge…. quietly, slowly likely from fear of retaliation despite the fact that we here all know that this is already a blue state. This is in fact, a brown state. The only reason this state reads red is because it was gerrymandered beyond belief so that areas range from Austin almost to Dallas rather than say, Austin being one place. In fact, those of us over a certain age, recall the whirlwind of all that is bravado and cyclonic about Texas in human form, Governor Ann Richards. Ann took no shit. We are channeling Ann this election. This day. This time when the tide is high.

We began to realize that it was  like a secret clubhouse. Nods, smiles, a quiet thumbs up. We were one. We were all still here. There was more of us than we were led to believe. In the ugly loud jarring swagger of the New GOP, even the natives here had been led to believe the stereotypes, the lies on par with Dallas, the TV show, not the beautiful lilting song. Love All Serve All.

The cowboy way. The musicans way. The rebel way. The artist way. The Texas way.

I think after Harvey we’d all just had enough. Enough of the fucking lies about us. Enough of being disregarded and counted off as worthless. A joke. A universal joke of Cowtown, USA. We weren’t going to go quietly into the night. We were going to rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And we had the One. Out of El Paso, of all places, our hero emerged. A tall drink of water, as we say here in Texas. A 40-something who still looked like a kid, like Alec Baldwin in Beetlejuice before he blew up. Long arms swinging, long legs running and walking and jumping and driving across a state that is close to the size of Europe. Hours and hours and miles through the heat, the sonic heat. Doing what others before said was a collasal waste of time. Those who didn’t know Texas. Those who didn’t know the real us.

        Not a dumb ass speaking of having beers together and how we don’t need no city slickers telling us what to do and  a C is good enough. That’s facade and bullshit.

The Texas I know has pockets of Republicans who are old school…. meaning that they don’t give a shit what you do in your own bedroom or your own home. They’re conservative in wanting their guns and their Southern gentleman ethics and the right to lead their own lives be it to homeschool their kids without answering to the Man which is the same as the old Art Car Parade slogan of we just want to ride around in our machines and not be hassled by the man. Which is the same damn thing. And they don’t care how their neighbor got here and what color he is if he keeps his place nice and will lend a hand in a tragedy and raises some respectful kids. I grew up next to a Mexican family, the Ninos, and I do not recall once hearing the word Mexican other than to descibe the exquisite cuisine and in regard to the family itself, the dad brought over left over KFC from his job as manager and we invited them to our BBQ’s and everyone pitched in if a car wasn’t running or one of the moms decided to have a garage sale or when their new babies were born.

Texans remember the Alamo and the aftermath. They celebrate Mexican cowboys. They weave tamales and brisket together like Spanglish. At least when it matters they do. We do. Before the brainwashing. Before the river of lies longer than the Rio Grande.

And then Beto showed up. With his Columbia education that is valued as the damning of the elite here never pertained to education… it pertained to attitude: being better than. Having some letters behind ones name is honorable especially those sleeves are rolled up and you’re willing to work side by side with ranchers and farmers and minority field hands.  Someone running and talking and talking and running. To everyone. The thing that is going to overpower the new not so grand old party today is that we do know a city slicker. We do know a used car salesman. And we do know the words to The Who. And yeah, we have lived a Teenaged Wasteland for awhile now… but it’s not going to be where we end up because it’s not who we are.

It’s Texas. We trust musicans here. It’s in the blood.

Tonight I sit here in a dive bar in an area that was once a broken down ward and is now an up amd coming bohemian artist haven being saved by millineal meets Gen Z punk rock aesthetics, just on the edge of Montrose. There’s nerves and hope and more movement than is normal for a Tuesday night. The bartender is hoping for celebratory customers later in the night. He’ll be here if things swing the other way. We’ve had Beto’s black and white signs out front of our blocks for months. Beto himself stopped in one afternoon early last Spring when he saw them and had lunch at the ancient diner and stopped in the shop of oddities and the record store. His photo was in the NYTimes here in that diner. We have his back. He’s got ours. And this we is the we I met so long ago, when I was a kid here having stumbled out of surburbia and inside the loop where the real Texas lived.

My twenty year old heart will dance tonight when the returns come in and once again, there will be faith in what we’ve created here. What we’ve dug into the mushy soil and what has somehow made this most unlikely of cities the 4th largest. That kid from the Border, a former punk rocker in a dress,having grown up on the   border not knowing there was a reason to think an arbitrary line meant anything and knowing for sure one language was as good as another, has risen up. The world. The entire world is watching. And he, this Irish guy with the Mexican first name, is going to let the world in on the secret of Texas and lead the world forward. I will wear the tears of joy and nostalgia like a Victory V in my boots eating tacos. Viva Beto.

the lone star is ever in your favor: you beto you beto you bet Sometimes we do the right thing and it spreads like a game of telephone  on the playground.