#and so far nothing has come back in usable condition

[hcppyhotel]

angel has one goal and it’s to wear everything in mollys closet.

[idioticsky]

How did you get here? 1,590 words

I've had this saved for a while and just forgot to post it lmao

It had been a long day, and it wasn't even the end of it. First training for 8 hours, then mystic training for 2 hours, now a meeting with the head of the Krang army himself! When will it end? Never probably. At least that's what Lucky thought as she walked onto the bridge. Her arms were behind her back, as she stood next to her master, Krang Prime.

Krang Prime looked out at the chaos before him, another earth destroyed and taken over, making this one earth 1450. They started universe hopping 4 years ago to the day. He found the spider yokai under some rubble trying to portal to another universe once again, but she was stopped once she saw him. After that day she became his pet, his servant. They use her as their gateway to other worlds.

"So-" Krang Prime started- "what universe should we head to next? I'm sure you've picked out one that'll be perfect for the Krang to take over."

"Yes sir, the world I've found has been taken over by the Krang once, but abandoned afterwards because the Krang from that world didn't know how to extract extra resources from practically nothing."

"Wonderful, I'll give you a week to scope out the world. Don't fail me, Lucky." Krang Prime hissed, taking a look back at the spider yokai, who nodded her head before leaving.

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

"Aaaand... done!" Gallio yelled out as he finished working on his modified dirt bike. Don said if he could getting working, that he and Gal could go riding out to some Krang ruins and bring some tech home. Now that Gal had fixed the bike, it's going to be great! Now to wait until Dad got home so that they could go.

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

After a few hours, Lucky put on her hood, grabbed her mask, grabbed her bag, and summoned a portal to the next world. Once she walked through, she ended up in a ruined Krang city.

"Hm.. seems usable for a little base.." Lucky said while throwing her backpack to the corner of a room. She looked around for a moment before hopping out a window to see what she could use for the time being. There was a good bit of Krang tech, and in almost perfect condition too. She grabbed what was around and got to work on fixing an older scanner. But before she could get too far into fixing it, she heard something. It sounded like.. engines? Wasn't this world supposed to be abandoned? Whatever. Lucky climbed up the wall and onto the roof, just out of sight from whatever was heading her way.

"Alright, we got about 3 hours before we gotta head back and pick up your sister from her friend's house." Donnie said while taking off his helmet, only to see his son running around looking at everything in sight. Lucky looked down at the mutants before her, once she saw Donnie, her eyes shot open.

"He's alive in this world! 4 years and this us the first time this has happened!" Lucky thought as she slowly climbed down to the ground, still out of sight.

"Dad! Look at this! A krang scanner that's almost working!" Gal yelled out as he examined the scanner in his hands.

"Huh, wait, it looks like it was in the middle of being repaired? No one really comes here other than us." At that moment, Donnie felt someone's eyes watching them. He wiped his head around: nothing. Strange. He could've sworn that there were eyes peering at him. Before he could continue thinking about it, Gal was already on the run again, looking at everything there was to mess with.

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

It had been half a hour now and the feeling of eyes staring into the back of Donnie's skull is still not going away. Every time he would look back, nothing! He'd take the time to look around and move things, still nothing! Why the hell did he have this feeling? No idea! Lucky on the other hand had been following and watching Donnie and was just really curious about him. I mean, this is the first universe where he seemed to live in the end! And besides, she never really got to know him since he died when she was young, so now she has the chance to figure it out at least.

While heading deeper into the Krang city, Donnie launched out a net right behind him and Gal. Causing Gal to jump and look behind them.

"Woah! Dad what the heck?! You scared me!" Gallio yelled out.

"Haha! I got it! I got the thing starring daggers into the back of my head!" Donnie yelled as he ran over to Lucky, who was stuck in the net. Gal soon ran up next to his father and saw the spider mutant. The moment he saw her with her dark purple hair, dark gray skin, and pink eyes, his face turned red.

"P-Please! I don't wish to hurt you Master Donatello!" Lucky cried out as she struggled to free herself from the net.

"Wait what-"

"R-Right wrong dimension me-" Lucky finally pushed her way out of the net, getting a few cuts in the process- "crap.."

"Who are you kid?"

"U-Uhm.. ok.. to say the least, I'm from a different dimension.. my name is Lucky.. I was one of Master Michaelangelo's students before the end of the invasion. I was sent my him to check out a different dimension to see how to fix things, but by the time I got back, everything was gone.. t-then the Krang found me and t-took me in as a tool a-and now I'm stuck a-as their tool to different worlds!.." Lucky said, starting to panic and make her cuts worse.

"Woah woah, calm down kid-" Donnie said while putting a hand on her shoulder- "you're ok kid, but if you have all this power, why not run away? It's pretty simple."

"They'll kill me! The collar on my neck will end my life in a moment!" She yelled out, slowly getting more and more panicked as time went on. Gal wanted to help, it seemed like he should, but what could he do? His body started to move on its own, pulling Lucky into an embrace. She slowly started to calm down as tears filled her eyes. She cling to Gal as she slowly started to break down at the smallest bit of affection, the first bit she's had in years.

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

It had been a bit since they took Lucky home with them. Gal was still trying to process how this person knew his dad, but they have bigger problems at the moment. Like the explosive collar on her neck.

"It looks like I should be able to unlock it, but it won't be easy." Don said while examining the collar. "Gallio, would you mind helping me with this?"

"Oh, sure." Gal said while going to grab the tools that would most likely be needed for the job, also some snack, this is gonna take a while after all.

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

"The fuck did they make this lock out of?" Donnie asked, he'd been trying to pick this lock for about two hours now, there was a little progress here and there but nothing too big.

"I wish I knew.." Lucky whispered, as she didn't wanna wake a sleeping Gal who was leaning on her. But she did all of that for nothing since he woke up soon after.

"Hm?.. oh, the lock is that tough?.." Gal asked once he saw that his dad was still working on it.

"Surprisingly, yes."

"Can I try?"

"Fine, but I don't think you'll get to far, Gallio."

On that note, Gal sat up and put his hand on the collar. Lucky, mainly out of worry, put her hand on his, she needed to move it. She knew that any wrong move could make this thing explode and she didn't wanna see anyone hurt. Why she didn't do this with Donatello? No idea, but with Gal, it felt right to do this. Gal looked up at Lucky in the moment, then turned a little red, with Lucky soon following. Donnie looked at both of them, then gave a little smirk before starting to speak. "Gallio, the lock?" He asked.

"O-Oh! right!" Gal spat out while snapping back to reality. He picked up the tools and got to work. While he was doing this, Lucky didn't know how to feel, she felt like she wanted to laugh a little, feel happy and everything, but she couldn't. She didn't know why but it felt too soon to be happy. Before she could continue this thought she heard the sound of metal hitting the floor.

"I did it? I did it!" Gal yelled out while looking up at his dad, who was clearly surprised.

"Huh, you really did do it-" Donnie started before ruffling Gallio's hair- "amazing work." He finished with a smile.

Lucky put a hand on her neck for the first time in years, she.. she was free. Tears started to trickle down her face, which soon turned into streams. She sobbed quietly as she realized that she didn't have to go back now, she could be free from the hell that she was put through. She could finally run and jump for fun and not for training, she could laugh and yell without needing to worry about having someone hear, she could be free. She hugged both Gal and Don.

"Thank you.."

[beta-lactam-allergic]

To @diamondnokouzai, your guilt tripping ableist poll doesn't take into account that not everyone who doesn't donate does so for misanthropic or selfish reasons. Your ablest poll excludes those of us who are ineligible to donate blood for reasons that have nothing to do with selfishness or misanthropic tendencies.

A lot of people are ineligible to donate blood due to medical conditions or due to medication that we are on to treat our medical conditions. I don't know the exact figures, but I can give anecdotes.

We start with my personal experience. I have been to the blood bank twice & have been ruled ineligible both times. The first time, I got ruled out due to one of the meds I was on at the time The second time, I got far enough through the screening for them to get eliminated by a permanent medical condition, so I know not to bother a third time. I would love to have usable blood, but I don't. I have to give blood samples every 2 months to monitor my health anyway, so it's not like my routine would change if my blood could be safely given to other human beings.

Neither of my parents were eligible to donate even back when they were in their 20s, let alone now in their 60s. Much of my extended family isn't eligible & will never be eligible. A lot of people I know aren't eligible to donate blood. To write a poll that presumes that non-donators are doing this out of selfishness instead of having options for those who medically are not eligible reveals you as an ableist individual.

Than you have to consider those in our society who can't physically reach the mobile blood donation centres due to disability. Only the permanent centres are set up for accessibility & I've only seen 2 of those, neither near where I live.

What about people who live in a town that doesn't have blood donation facilities? You would be surprised how many towns don't have blood donation facilities once you leave the big cities (I live in a big city, but travel enough to see the smaller towns). This shows how your poll doesn't account for those who don't have the means to travel to another town, potentially many hours away to donate regularly.

Then you mock the people with needle phobias. Phobias of any sort can be debilitating & while I don't know anyone who's admitted to me that they have a needle phobia (I may have ripped into anti-vaxxers I know personally a bit to often for those who understand the science but have needle phobias to feel like they can approach me), I know people with phobias to snakes, spiders, heights & other phobias I won't mention. I'm not going to mock them for not being able to donate blood due to that phobia. I may find their phobia annoying whenever there's a new COVID variant or flu strain because these people can spread it further, but I'm not blaming them. Phobias aren't moral failures, they're psychological conditions & should be considered as such.

Then you have to consider night-shift workers. If your active hours are when the blood banks are closed & you have to sleep in the daylight hours to get any sleep at all, then of course you won't have an opportunity to donate blood.

Also, we must remember that Jehovah's Witnesses don't allow blood donations or blood transfusions for religious reasons. While their loss to the blood supply is unfortunate, they aren’t refusing to donate (or for that matter receive transfusions) because they hate society or humanity. They just have beliefs that produce a perspective the rest of us don't understand.

So yeah, that's my criticism of your poll. In your vapid moralising, you have excluded many segments of the population whose inability to donate has nothing to do with the selfishness you imagine we must have.

If I missed other groups who can't donate for reasons unrelated to anticollectivist tendencies, or general callousness, please add them in your reblogs. I was just listing what would come to my head from the people I know or knew in the past, so I'm bound to miss a group that I would have picked up if I researched.

And if you don't have a reason for not donating blood besides not caring, not thinking about it, forgetting to do it or not wanting to donate, than please reconsider. If you can donate please do so. I just felt it was necessary to point out how this poll excludes large segments of the population that can't donate blood regardless of our moral inclinations.

[hannigramficrecs]

Prison

Anchor in a Lockdown by Anna_Jay [words: 20,604]

"Will snatches the paper from Chilton's hands, and with every word he reads dread begins to overcome him. The Warden still has a smile on his face as Will lowers the paper. 'Good to see you understand. You start tomorrow.'" In which Will is an unfortunate prison guard who is sent to work the red zone, the current home of Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

In the Truly Gruesome Do We Trust by sidnihoudini [words: 9,473]

Hannibal and Will have murder husbands mind palace sex, and Alana watches obsessively. A slow, sneaky grin slides its way across Will’s face as he looks up at Hannibal and teases, “You enjoy being watched.” 

The Abyss Smiled Back by HigherMagic [words: 49,768]

Will is missing, presumed dead, which makes it difficult for Jack and Alana to get Hannibal to help them catch another brutal serial killer, given that Hannibal's only condition for helping them is that he gets to see Will.

Wings of Wax and Feather by BelladonnaWyck, raiast [words: 55,947]

Hannibal Lecter had always known the winding road of fate may one day lead him straight to a prison cell. He’d never imagined he’d find his true mate there.

Shark Tank by xzombiexkittenx for trr_rr [words: 71,358]

Will and Hannibal meet in prison. Hannibal is still the Ripper, Will is still a profiler who had encephalitis. Only now they're cell mates

Collateral Damage by quenchycactus [words: 3,064]

They are kept on complete opposite sides of the BSHCI, under Alana’s watchful eye.

Lockdown by Gweezle for Square_Pancake [words: 3,635]

Will Graham visits the Chesapeake Detention Facility on Jack Crawford's orders to find out if Abel Gideon - Hannibal Lecter's former cellmate - really does have any information on the mysterious cannibal. Of course, everything that can go wrong, does.

The Lion and the Wolf by CrowsAce [words: 12,312]

The one where Will is starting his first year at Uni and want's nothing more than to be allowed to work in peace and just disappear into the background but FBI agents and serial killers a like just won't leave him be.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy by LazyBaker [words: 1,584]

“They think I’ll bite.” Will said. Practically growling through the few holes. “Do you want to bite me, Will?”

A Little Bird Told Me by harleygirl2648 [words: 12,514]

Season 4 AU. Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham were married and living happily in Cuba together when the FBI catches up to them in a shootout. When both come to in the hospital, they are told the other one is dead and are placed back the in the BSHCI. One year later, Buffalo Bill is out there skinning girls, and Jack Crawford deploys his new trainee, Clarice Starling against the darkest minds he still has access to. Will Clarice become the prey, or will she take control of the chessboard and find Catherine Martin?

There And Back Again by SpookedBlue [words: 3,964]

Will and Hannibal have contests about who can break the other out of prison the fastest.

The Only Place I Can Hold You by snapdragonpop007 [words: 27,865]

“Hello, Jack.” These past two years had not been kind to Will Graham-Lecter. The solitary confinement that Chilton had promised would help had only seemed to make the omega worse. “I was wondering when you were gonna come talk to me.” Will hadn’t looked up from the book in his hands. He was running his fingertips across the pages, and when Jack looked a little closer he could see that it was full of photographs.

Redemption by houseofcannibals [words: 132,427]

After very publicly losing his mind and murdering three young women in an unconscious state, FBI consultant Will Graham is sentenced to serve three consecutive life sentences in the notorious Shawshank State Prison. Upon arrival, he is unsettled to find himself in a cell neighboring that of infamous serial killer Dr Hannibal Lecter.

The Escapists by whiskeyandspite [words: 35,368]

Will’s cellmate said nothing, and Will didn’t venture. He had been prickly enough as a lecturer, where human interaction was mandatory, and prison was not the sort of place one made friends. One either made allies or enemies, or stayed quiet enough to avoid both. Will doubted he'd be that lucky; far too easy to rile up especially when stupidity was the catalyst. Prison, Will thought absently, was similar to college.

Pushing Us Into Self-Destruction by IBegToDreamAndDiffer [words: 16,538] 

Clarice Starling needs help with a case, so she pays a visit to Will Graham, who's incarcerated in the Baltimore Sate Hospital with his partner.

Leave Your Message After The Tone by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles [words: 7,775] 

Imagine Will calling Hannibal’s cell phone after he’s incarcerated just to hear Hannibal’s voice on his voicemail. Imagine Will leaving Hannibal voicemails about how he wishes things had turned out differently. Imagine Will spilling his heart out to Hannibal’s voicemail, assuming that the man himself will never hear them. Imagine Hannibal listening to these messages.

Inconvenient by HigherMagic [words: 5,756] 

Transporting them had gone surprisingly well. While waiting for an official sentence, they were to be held in a high-security facility, similar to the BSHCI, but more remote, so that if they were to, somehow, escape again, it would be a long trek on foot before they approached anything usable, and the cavalry would overtake them before they could.

1 (17/25)

[enkelimagnus]

Hardwood

Bucky Barnes Gen, 2393 words, rated T

Jewish Bucky Barnes, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Episode 5 Truth

Bucky decides to make his Brooklyn house a little more of a home for him, to his taste. A worried neighbor comes a-knocking.

TW: mention of murder of children (brief)

Read on AO3

Part 35 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

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

Three days after he comes home from Delacroix, Bucky grabs a frayed edge of carpet from his bedroom floor and pulls. It comes off with a loud tearing sound, but he just keeps pulling, effortlessly baring the hardwood underneath.

He doesn’t really know why he does it. He just sees the edge and pulls and he’s halfway down the room when he realizes the furniture is definitely on the way, and if he wants to do this, he’s going to have to plan it out. You don’t just redecorate this easily.

At least as far as he knows.

He’s never done this before. His parents’ home had stayed the same through his entire life, as far as he knew. Furniture was moved once a year before Passover, when they cleaned the place from top to bottom. And after that, he’d been through many safehouses, but his handlers had never had sudden desires to redecorate.

He doesn’t really know where to start. He knows he can’t remove the entire carpeting without taking out the furniture of the bedroom. He knows the color of the walls is horrible and he wants to change that. He knows that, by himself, it’s going to be an ordeal. But he doesn’t really know who to ask for help.

Miriam is way too old, he doesn’t have that good of a relationship with Charlie, and there is no way in hell he’s letting any of his coworkers remotely close to his personal life. So he’s going to do it by himself. One room by one room, probably.

Still, he uses his left arm to pull the bed off of the ground and the other one to pull the carpeting off from under it.

He guesses being a supersoldier has some advantages in this sort of situation.

It doesn’t take long for the entire hardwood floor of the bedroom to be bare, for the loud ripping noises that came with his hard, powerful pulls. The carpet won’t be usable anymore but he doesn’t care. He’ll throw it in the trash anyway.

Nothing Hydra touched should be given to someone else. It all deserves to burn.

He’s tired of this house feeling so much like a safehouse. He wants to change things, he wants it to be his house, not Hydra’s, on more levels than just legal. He wants to truly live here. It’s his, and he can do whatever he wants with it. He could have it bulldozed if he felt like it, but he doesn’t. He wants a home.

He’s halfway through ripping off the first guest room’s carpet when the doorbell rings.

It startles him. No one ever rings his doorbell. No one comes to see him. He’s lived there for a couple months now, and not once has that bell rang. He forgets for a brief instant that he’s holding the entire bed up with one hand.

Somehow, he manages to catch the heavy bed frame before it crashes into the floor and damages it.

Despite the surprise someone is ringing, Bucky takes the time to pull on his gloves. He’s already wearing a long-sleeved tshirt, and with the gloves on, no one can see the arm. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be fully comfortable in the open, in the daylight, with the arm out, even if it isn’t Hydra’s anymore.

He should probably get used to people knowing who he is. Anonymity isn’t something he’s allowed. Not after Berlin, not after the war with Thanos, not after Riga. Before all of that, no one would have recognized him. Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s right hand, was supposed to be long dead. The only Howling Commando to lose his life in the service of his country.

Now, if no one sees the arm, he can still pass for just another white man with a vague resemblance to someone that was one tv a couple of times. That’s all he can really have.

There’s no use in raging against it. The past couple of decades of the rise of social media has made it impossible for him to be erased. Zemo knew what he was doing in Vienna.

The person behind the door is breathing steadily. They don’t seem to be filled with adrenaline, not with that relatively calm heartbeat. There is no telltale sign of aggression or preparation for violence. Bucky swallows, takes a deep breath and opens the door.

Behind the wooden panel is his neighbor. They’re tall, relatively thin, with hair so short it’s more like a five o’clock shadow spreading over their skull. They smile at him. Bucky stares. He doesn’t mean to. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen his neighbor in the daylight.

“Hi there, I’m your neighbor,” they say, pointing towards their door, as if Bucky hasn’t recognized the one person that knows when he goes running from his nightmares. “I heard some strange noise, everything’s okay?”

Bucky keeps staring for a moment. He didn’t think the ripping of the carpeting would be loud enough to attract attention. But he was wrong. He didn’t imagine it would sound stranger than his occasional nightly shouts of terror or pain.

He quickly gets back to reality as the neighbor in front of him stares back with a smile.

“Hi,” he ends up saying. “Hm, I was… I was pulling the carpeting off of my bedroom floor. Nothing to worry about.”

It’s strange, having neighbors that seem to care whether you’re dying a strange horribly, ripping death. Or maybe they’re worried he’s killing someone, or doing some other horrible thing he would have done as the Winter Soldier.

Either way, this person’s presence in front of him right now is peculiar. It makes him think of Mrs Naumescu, his parents’ left neighbor, who would come knocking whenever she heard something that worried her.

There had been a couple of nights where Bucky had snuck back in, sometimes with Steve, sometimes after dropping Steve off at his own place, where she had heard him come in and come knocking to warn his parents of an intruder, or scare away said intruder. She’d had a baseball bat in her hand - her son’s.

Hopefully this neighbor won’t be as worried for his safety.

“Do you need help?” they ask, and Bucky stares at them again, bewildered. He wasn’t expecting to be asked such a thing. He wasn’t expecting anyone to want to help.

“I’m pretty strong…” He starts, and then stops.

He can do it alone. But he could also take the offered help, for once. There’s an outstretched hand. What horrible thing can they do to him that hasn’t already been done? He knows better than to dismiss them as just a neighbor - after all, he knows plenty of very common and innocent-looking spies. But what harm can actually be done to him?

“You know anything about hardwood floors?”

For the rest of the morning, Bucky keeps the gloves on. There are only a couple of instances of him displaying strength that is just on the edge of unusual, but they don’t comment on it. They do exchange names and - to Bucky’s surprise - pronouns.

The neighbor’s name is Olly and they use they/them pronouns. To his own shame, he has to be given an explanation on what that means. He’s so deeply out of touch with that part of the world. A part of the world that he supposedly belongs in, according to today’s definitions. Because Steve was a man, and even if he’s the only man Bucky ever willingly wanted, it still counts.

It should have been a fluke, a one-off. It shouldn’t have counted if it was only Steve. But it does, supposedly. Bucky doesn’t know much about that.

They work fast, get the carpeting out of the two other guest rooms as well as the corridor. Turns out, Olly knows how to take care of hardwood floors. They know a lot of stuff about remodeling and house work. They end up establishing together a list of items needed to properly finish the job, and do what Bucky actually wants for his home.

Bucky makes them sandwiches for lunch, with pastrami, mustard and pickles. It’s a cliché perhaps, but it’s delicious. There are a couple of beers in his fridge.

“You’re good at all of this,” Bucky says, swallowing a mouthful of pastrami. It’s a little too dry. He misses the butcher he went to as a kid. His pastrami was amazing. He hasn’t been able to find one that compares with his memories yet. “Is it what you do for a living? House renovation?"

They chuckle, shaking their head. "Oh wow, no, not at all. I’m a social worker,” they explain. Social worker. Bucky remembers those people growing up. They were trying to fix problems, especially with the crash. “When my partner, our friends and I renovated the house,” they continue, pointing towards the wall between their two houses. “We learned a few things. What do you do?"

It takes a moment for Bucky to figure out actually how to phrase it. "Military contractor."

That’s the closest he can think. He’s contracted by the military, somewhat. They did make him sign a contract, to regulate what had already been outlined by his pardon agreement.

"Like an engineer?"

Of course they’re polite and curious. Bucky would be as well. He could just come out and say it. I’m the Winter Soldier and one of the reasons I walk free is that I work to clean up Hydra’s messes. He doesn’t know how public the conditions of his pardon are.

Once again, he struggles to explain what it is he does without saying it out right.

“I guess I provide intelligence? And experience."

Phrased that way, it sounds nice. That’s what he does though, it’s not a lie. It feels… almost pleasant to be able to say it that way. He provides information on how Hydra works, experience on how the safehouses are set up… A fist too. When they break into a safehouse, he’s always first. He’s hard to kill, after all.

And maybe… just maybe, some of his higher-ups wouldn’t mind if he died on a mission. They’d tell the place he went out trying to fix what he’d done.

Sometimes, that phrasing ‘fixing what he’d done’ chokes him up. It’s the way Lieutenant General Henricksen talks about the work he makes him do. Henricksen believes it was his fault. Of course he does.

It makes sense. People have no idea what it is like to be brainwashed. They have seen movies and video games and read books about it. They have no idea what it is actually like. They have no idea how it feels.

He remembers all of it, and he remembers pulling the trigger. Sometimes because he was directly ordered to by a handler - something that was impossible for him to resist doing. Sometimes because it was what was required to complete the mission - like with the son and daughter of the Algerian FLN commander that were sleeping in their beds.

He could have disobeyed all the orders in the second category. He never did. Not until Steve.

He must have zoned out thinking about the horrible things he’s done, because Olly clears their throat.

“And if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get this house? It’s been empty for years, we always wondered what was going on with it.”

That’s, again, a really hard question to answer without saying the truth. Bucky’s not even supposed to tell the truth about his work. That’s not his job. He doesn’t work on communication.

“Inheritance?” It comes out more like a question than anything else.

So much about his life is… unexplainable. It’s like all he has to share with the world is a heavily redacted file.

Most of it is of his own doing, he realizes. He’s the one who doesn’t want people to know exactly who he is, what he’s done. The only things he is actually forbidden to talk about are the specifics of his high-profile, governmental kills, as well as his ongoing missions with the army. The rest…

He could just say that this is an ex-Hydra safehouse and he got it through work. He could just say he’s working with the army to break into Hydra properties and recover what they took from the government while they were hiding behind the SHIELD insignia.

There would be questions, of course. What of the non-governmental resources they took? That goes to various archive buildings all over the U.S., to be tagged, processed and gather dust until their rightful owners pipe up. There are a lot of items waiting for people who don’t know they’re missing something.

Olly seems to accept Bucky’s cryptic and hesitant answer. Thank G-d. Bucky doesn’t know what he would have said if they kept prying. He guesses it’s selfish. He knows he can’t finish the job by himself, and telling Olly the truth would surely make them run out of the house.

They finish lunch and Bucky makes a pot of coffee. It’s when he turns back to face Olly that his eyes catch the picture he framed on the wall when he got there.

The picture of Steve and him on the front lines, in Europe. The postcard from the Smithsonian. Both of their faces, smiling wide. As far as Bucky knows, there aren’t any images of Steve smiling that way, wide and open and carefree even in the middle of the war, from after he was unfrozen in 2012.

Perhaps because he just didn’t have time to smile like this anymore. Perhaps because this was his Bucky smile. The smile Bucky knew he only smiled for him, and because of him. The best, most beautiful smile in the world.

In any case, there is no way Olly didn’t see the picture. There is no way they don’t know who he is now, even without seeing the arm. They haven’t said anything.

Bucky reaches over and pulls his right glove off, revealing skin. It takes all the strength in his mind and body to take off the other one, revealing vibranium.

He usually never takes the gloves off in front of someone when he isn’t playing soldier. But he is in his home. He shouldn’t have to hide himself here.

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 26- Under Those Same Stars- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Ecbert panics. Athelstan has a chat with Ragnar. Aaline gets her way.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Hvitserk x Thora, Ubbe x Margrethe, Sigurd x OC, Ragnar, Lagertha

Warnings: Arranged marriage, language, violence, torture, sex, mentions of sexual assault/rape

Word Count: 1926

Ch. 25

AN: Oh my God it has been way too long since I’ve updated! I am so sorry that it’s taken so long. I moved, school started, the one year anniversary of my grandmother’s death was this past week, I was dealing with some mental health issues but I am back and hoping to be more consistent with my updates. I hope you enjoy this chapter. There’s not a whole lot happening this time. I’m not too happy with how it turned out but it is what it is. 

“Tell me, tutor, is revenge a science or an art?”

~Mark Lawrence

“That arrogant fool! I knew this would happen. I told him to tread lightly when it came to Ragnar Lothbrok but did he listen? No! He had to go and kill Ragnar’s son and now he is missing and his wife is dead! That stupid, stupid fool!” 

Ecbert raged around his office. Papers were scattered on the floor and glass glittered on the carpet from where he’d thrown his trinkets. Two of his soldiers stood on either side of the door, un-moving. William, Ecbert’s footman, stood still in front of the desk. Ecbert had been careful to keep his rage concentrated on the items on his desk and not his man. 

“Tell me again. What happened.” Ecbert waved a flippant hand towards William as he paced. William took a deep breath and spoke. 

“Police were called to Aelle’s home this morning after a wellness check came in after Aelle failed to appear at his office.  They arrived to find the house in perfect condition, no signs of a break-in. Once they reached the bedroom they found Ealhswith dead and Aelle missing. 

“So far, there’s no evidence linking anyone to the crime. The gun was a Glock, one of the most commonly used guns in American crime. They’ve found no links to other crimes that the gun was used in and no usable fingerprints. The killer took the casings with them.”

Ecbert inhaled sharply and settled his hands on his hips. “This is Ragnar Lothbrok. I know it. It’s retaliation for the death of his son. I knew this would happen.” Ecbert shook his head and sighed.

With a sharp turn he faced William and pointed an accusing finger. “I want constant security on Aethelwulf and Judith’s home. They are never unattended. Get someone in on the investigation. I want to know everything that the police know. Go!”

He shooed William out of his office and turned away. 

Aelle was going to be the death of him.

.

Athelstan made his way through the house towards the back garden. Torvi had greeted him upon his entry and told him that Ragnar was taking his lunch on the patio enjoying the fresh air and the blooming flowers. He was alone when Athelstan entered the patio.  

Ragnar glanced once up at him before moving his things away from the empty side of the table. He waved his arm out, offering the chair across from him. Athelstan took it and sighed, gazing out at Ragnar’s garden.

“What are you doing, Ragnar?”

“I’m enjoying my garden. Lagertha had tulips planted last winter. Look, they’re just beginning to bloom. Aren’t they lovely?”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. What are you doing with Aelle?”

Ragnar hummed and smoothed his hands over his thighs, brushing the crumbs off his pants. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

“Enough, Ragnar.” Frustration lined Athelstan’s face and Ragnar took a long look at his friend’s face.

Athelstan had been his friend for the longest time. When they were both still young men, wet behind the ears and blind to the true nature of their chosen profession. Athelstan had risked much to keep their friendship away from his work and to protect Ragnar and his family. Athelstan was family but Ragnar couldn’t protect Athelstan the same way that Athelstan protected them. 

He deserved to know the truth. 

Ragnar nodded, resigned. “You’ve known me a long time, my friend. You know what I must do.”

Athelstan sighed and helped himself to the plate of cookies in the center of the table. He munched quietly, deep in thought. 

“It is illegal, what you’re planning.” Athelstan said. 

Ragnar laughed. “You don’t know what I’m planning.”

Athelstan looked at him with a shrewd eye, amusement buried deep in the depths of his gaze. “I know that it is illegal.”

Ragnar chuckled and shook his head. “He killed my son, Athelstan. He needs to pay for that.” 

Athelstan sighed and took a bite out of his snack. Ragnar wasn’t wrong but at the same time he was. As a man of the law, Athelstan was obligated to prevent any known law breaking. He knew that Ragnar was planning on perpetrating a serious crime. If his history was anything to go by, the police would likely have a body pop up soon. 

“Let the police handle it, Ragnar. There’s only so much I can do for you. I can’t control the courts.”

Ragnar shook his head and removed his sunglasses. “You know I cannot do that, Athelstan. I cannot let my son’s death go unpunished.”

Athelstan shifted in his seat to face Ragnar full on. “They will not go unpunished. Let the police do their jobs and I promise that Aelle will be punished to the full extent of the law.” 

Ragnar turned to his oldest friend and smiled. It was a grim smile and it didn’t reach his eyes. “Your optimism is inspiring and I’m touched that you feel so strongly about this. It changes nothing.”

He nodded once at Athelstan before standing. He slapped a hand on Athelstan’s shoulder and began to venture inside. “Come, my friend.” He called from the doorway. “Lagertha has made her famous blackberry pie. Have a slice before you go.” 

Athelstan gazed out at the rainbow of tulips peppering the garden. He heaved a great sigh before pushing himself up and following Ragnar inside. 

.

Aaline watched Ivar in the bathroom. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and he was bent over the sink, shaving. He was still damp from his shower and Aaline’s mouth watered. 

She knew that he knew she was watching him. She didn’t care and let her eyes trail over his impressive frame. Her eyes traced over the ink that covered his chest and expanded across his shoulders. At an angle, she could make out the loops and whirls across his back. He really was striking to behold. 

She stepped forward and crowded close to him, hooking her chin on his shoulder and fingering the towel at his waist. He smirked but didn’t look away from his chore. 

“When will you blood eagle Aelle?” Ivar met her eyes in the mirror and cleaned his razor before bringing it to his face again. Aaline traced a line around the edge of the towel, his skin warm beneath her fingertips.  

“In a few days. We’ll bury Sigurd first and then perform the ceremony.” Ivar dropped his razor on the counter and picked up a damp washcloth. He cleaned the excess shaving cream from his face before turning in Aaline’s arms. She settled her hands on his hips. 

“We’ll all take part. Björn will start. He’s the oldest. Father will watch and Sybille will observe.” Aaline stepped back, just on the edge of the circle of Ivar’s arms. Her eyebrows were drawn together.

“Sybille will be there?” Ivar nodded in the face of her confusion. 

“‘Tis customary for the wife of the dead to observe. To see justice served.” Ivar stepped away and entered the bedroom. He rummaged around the closet, pulling out dark jeans and a v-neck. Aaline followed him.

“I’d like to be there. When you blood eagle Aelle.” Ivar glanced up at her, his gaze hard and steady. He snorted. 

“No.”

Aaline narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “No?” Her voice was sharp and Ivar sighed, dropped his towel as he began to dress. 

“It’s not a place for women, Aaline. There’s blood and screaming. Sometimes there’s vomit. It’s not pretty.” He tugged his jeans up his legs and snapped them closed. He could feel Aaline’s glare burning through his back but he didn’t turn to face her. 

“I don’t care. I want to be there. For Sybille. She doesn’t need to be alone right now.” 

Ivar turned, tugging his v-neck down his chest. “She’s not alone. Thora’s with her now. Torvi’s supposed to go over there in a few hours. When’s your shift start?” He pretended to ignore her fiery gaze as he rummaged through his dresser for socks. 

Aaline sneered. Ivar was being purposefully obtuse. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. She doesn’t need to watch that alone.” 

Ivar sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on his socks before tugging his boots on. “My love,” Aaline pretended that his endearment didn’t send shivers down her spine. “It is not something that women need to see. I’m trying to protect you.” He stood and cupped her face in his hands, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

He stepped around her and left the room. He closed his eyes when she followed him, slamming the door closed behind her. “Ivar, now is not the time for Sybille to deal with these things alone. Please, just let me be there for her. I can offer her support that you and your brothers cannot.”

Ivar stopped in the middle of the hallway and pinched the bridge of his nose. Björn and Hvitserk rounded the top of the stairs and saw Ivar standing, exasperated, in the middle of the hallway. Aaline was speaking.

“I really don’t ask for much, Ivar. Please, let me be there for my friend. My sister.” Ivar tilted his head back and glared at the ceiling, his hands tight on his hips. Björn and Hvitserk exchanged a look before Björn chose to speak. 

“Aaline, it’s really not a place for women. It’s very violent, brutal. A lot of heavy emotions come forward. It’s difficult to control yourself sometimes.”

Ivar dropped his head to stare at his brother, taken aback at his stepping in.

Aaline’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. Shock painted her face and she whirled around to face the two men. 

“Excuse me! I don’t believe I asked you! I was talking to my husband! Are you my husband, Björn?” Aaline’s cheeks were a splotchy red and her eyes were alight with a rage that Björn hadn’t seen before.

He took a measured step back and glanced back at Ivar who had a mix of pride and exasperation on his face.

“I thought so. Stay out of it!” She turned back to Ivar, ignoring the pride shining from his eyes. “And you! How do you know what I’ve done? The things I’ve done to people? You think violence frightens me?” She sneered and Ivar narrowed his eyes, his jaw tight. 

“I know exactly what you’re capable of and I wouldn’t change a thing about you. You’re a strong woman and I’m proud of you.” Ivar snarled. Aaline felt the breath seize in her lungs and she couldn’t speak. Tears came to her eyes. Although backed by an angry snarl, Ivar’s words were kind.    

Ragnar rounded the top of the stairs at a slow trot, tossing a blueberry into his mouth as he did. 

“Ivar, Aaline is right.” All four of them whipped their heads around to stare at Ragnar. He smiled at the tension and deposited another blueberry on his tongue. 

“What?” Ivar snapped. 

Ragnar glanced at Aaline and saw the tears shining in her eyes. He offered her a tender smile before looking at his youngest son. 

“I know you want to protect your wife but she is right. Sibylle cannot be there alone. She needs someone and who better than Aaline?” Ragnar parted with a loving smack to Ivar’s shoulder. 

Aaline grinned at the brother’s and ignored Ivar’s angry stomp as he followed his father into his office, slamming the door behind him.

@dreamlesswonder @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @bcarolinablr @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @feyrearcheron44 @londongal2810 @khiraeth @didiintheblog @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @kingniazx 

[thdorkmagnet]

Light of the Sun and Stars Chapter 46: A Mewman and a Monster (Preview)

Summary: His whole life Marco Diaz has been raised by monsters, living under the cruel rule of their leader, Toffee. But one day Marco escapes into Mewni where he meets a magical princess and Mewman like himself, who begins teaching him all about her world. Together they will learn about life, love, and the lights within each of them, as they change their world forever.

Chapter Synopsis: Slime has asked his crush Princess Penelope Spiderbite out on a date and needing support, both emotionally and literally, calls upon Star and Marco for help. The two graciously lend a hand in helping create the most romantic date possible but, as usual, things rarely go the way they want it too. 

Check out my other stuff on Fanfiction!

Index

The dimension was completely lifeless. Once a sprawling community had dwelled there, setting up residence in its green pastures and lush landscapes, living a simple and basic life amongst the natural resources all around them. But that peaceful lifestyle had changed when technology was first introduced to the humble society. At first it had been small changes, as it always started, machines and many mechanisms made to help make life easier. Need to plow the fields? Build a machine that could do it half the time you could. 

Soon people were using machines for every part of their everyday life and with the invention of robotic helpers… everything changed. Their once grassy hills were torn up to make factories, their land broken and scarred for the sake of 'progress'. Soon their dimension more closely resembled a machine than a once thriving, living place. And the numbers of robots steadily grew, until they outnumbered all living beings 10 to 1.

Sunlight was blocked by heavy smog while frequent and heavy storms began to tear apart what was left of the landscape. The dimension became virtually unlivable and the people were filled with dismay.

That was until a mysterious benefactor appeared one day, offering to buy up the remaining usable land for unknown reasons. The people happily accepted the offer, using the money to relocate to a new dimension (hopefully with better luck than the last), leaving the new owner of the dimension to do with it however they wished. Soon they began construction on a single building, employing the many robots that still inhabited the place to the effort. It took a long time, even with beings that didn’t have the need to eat nor sleep at the head of construction, but eventually it was finished, a single living place in the dimension of dead architecture. 

The place was a sight to behold: a clean, cut courtyard leading up to a grand, multi-story building. The architecture was ancient, borrowed from famous castles and cathedrals throughout the multiverse, a sharp contrast to the sleek, modern buildings the dimension had been so known for. 

But for as magnificent as it seemed, there was something sinister as well, something dark lurking just behind the smoothly cut stones or grand balconies. A large metal fence had been built around the building, electrified at all times to deter anyone from entering or exiting through anything but the gate. A large tower stood above the building itself, pulsing with some dark magic that had been lost to time long ago. The building's architecture was full of sharp edges and spikes that could seriously harm anyone who was not weary of their surroundings. And though the grand double doors were made of the finest wood in any dimension, they opened onto halls of endless turns and deadends, a labyrinth built to keep everyone trapped inside forever. 

But the creator of this school did not care how others viewed it, because this place was serving a grand purpose, educating and enforcing positive change on the future monarchs of the multiverse. St. Olga’s Reform School for Wayward Princesses was a school like no other, standing superior to any other education system that dared to compete with it, for it was focused solely on punishment and strict results. Every young princess that was sent there, no matter how rebellious or resistant they were, would eventually be broken. It didn’t matter if it took days, weeks, or years, St. O’s and its founder and principal, Heinous , had a perfect record that had never once been broken. 

That was until a certain four-armed princess blew the whistle on the academy's “less than reputable” penalties and the school was shut down by the dimensional knights. The great Miss Heinous was forced on the run, leaving every part of her life, her career, her home, her minions, her legacy, to rot. She spent years on the run, just barely managing to stay one step ahead of the dimensional knights and any other form of military power a noble might hire to capture or kill her. But through it all, Heinous only had one thought that kept her going day in and day out. Revenge. Or rather, her legacy finally fulfilled. She often confused the two but it didn’t matter. The path was the same. The path to ultimate victory and control. The path of perfection. 

And that path had led back to where it all began. 

Nostalgia and old memories came flooding back to the once-proud principal as she stood in front of her old, decaying school. She could still picture it back in the prime of its life, see it as clear as if it were standing in the memory itself rather than the broken dream that stared back at her. Reality was far from the picture perfect days of old. Oh how the mighty had fallen. 

Her once proud school was now in desperate need of repairs, walls caved in over the course of time, entire sections of the school now gone. The courtyard was now filled with untamed weeds and overgrown plant life. The tower that had once stood as a beacon of power for her school had been the first thing taken down by those pesky knights and it lay in shambles around the area, an ever present reminder of the injustice Heinous had suffered. The fence was bent and disfigured,  was now full of giant, gaping holes in its structure making it completely useless, now it couldn’t even keep out the gust of wind that blew through the empty courtyard. The school had become nothing but an empty shell that had once housed life within it. Heinous couldn’t help but scoff at the irony, her greatest masterpiece was now no different to the rest of this forgotten waste of a dimension. 

She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. No, she couldn’t start dwelling on all that now. She had come here for more than just reliving her past failures. Today was about seizing her future. A small cough behind her caused Heinous to roll her eyes. She had almost forgotten her hired hand had come with her, just in case some dimensional knights were lurking there and needed to be disposed of. It was clear that Rasticore, unlike her, was less than content with her dimension. She could practically feel Rasticore’s discomfort as he shifted from one foot to the other, over and over again. It was obvious he wanted to get this over with, something at least they could agree on, Heinous was ready to achieve the next step of her decade-long scheme. 

“So are we going inside or not?” Rasticore finally asked and Heinous turned back to him with a narrowed glare.

“Why? Don’t tell me you are frightened of my school?” she accused him, point blank. 

Rasticore tensed, before gritting his fangs, clearly holding back the retort. Instead he replied, “No, just all this smog is aggravating my condition.” He then made a point to cough into his claw. 

Heinous highly doubted that was the reason for his rush. Not when it was more likely her minion was playing up his sickness to hide his discomfort from her. After all, he was recovering remarkably well from the poison, ready to resume his work in just a few short weeks, so a little foul air shouldn’t be upsetting him as much as he was pretending it was. 

Still, she didn’t see any reason to delay things any further so Heinous just turned to her minion and said, “Very well, follow me.” 

Entering into her old home was like walking into a portrait in time, everything left exactly as she remembered it. The knights must have left things the same for evidence reasons but Heinous ws surprised her school was still mostly intact. A few rooms had been caved in or hallways blocked and everything certainly needed a good dusting but from the view outside she had been expecting much worse. Paper and pencils lay on the dusty desks, ready to use, as if some child had just set them down and then vanished from this dimension. The banners holding old phrases and mottos Heinous would often repeat in classes were decaying but still hung up even after all these years. The only thing missing was her beloved robotic staff. 

Shortly after her escape she had gotten word that all robots operating under her name had been discontinued and dismantled to “prevent further harm” as they had put it. Ha, as if her precious staff could be so cruel, every punishment was fully justified and all for the greater good. If only the royals of the multiverse had seen it that way. “Cruel and unnecessary” they had called it. Hypocrites! They were always happy with the results, even quick to praise her or offer her large sums of money as thanks, but the moment they knew how their beloved child came to be cured of their faults suddenly she was the villain, torturing their bratty children by making them perfect.

Well if they were too stupid and cowardly to see her perfect vision all the way through, then it was up to her to fix this miserable, chaotic world. 

Heinous entered into her old office, staring at it with wistful eyes as memories came flooding back to her all over again. Every detail of the small space was exactly as she had remembered it, not a single stone out of place, even after all these years. She ran her hands across her desk, her fingers brushing the loose pieces of paper she had been reading through when the alarm had sounded. Old student files and report cards now yellowed with age and beyond salvaging Heinous could have read them with ease, every single letter saved to her subconscious. 

Rasticore stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching as his temporary boss reminisced her old life. It was shocking in all honesty, the lizard assassin hadn’t even known Heinous had a smile that wasn’t sinister but she seemed… almost genuine now. That was until she came across a certain file and the peaceful look switched to a frown, the spell she was under was broken. She picked up the piece of paper, ripping it to shreds in a matter of seconds. Rasticore jumped but didn’t say a word as his boss fell deeper and deeper into a blind rage, picking up several other files and ripping them apart as well. Soon the room was coated in paper shreds and the desk was empty. Rasticore risked a look at what remained of the original file, surprised to see it was a young curly haired princess with four arms. He couldn't imagine what she had done to invoke such fire from the level-headed woman. 

Once the temper tantrum was over, Heinous straightened her clothes and smoothed down her hair, making herself look presentable again before turning to her minion. “Well, let’s get started, shall we?” she said as if nothing had even happened. She reached her hand into one of the many pockets that lined her oversized dress and pulled out a small key covered in intricate carvings. Without a word she shoved the desk to the side, Rasticore taken aback by the sudden show of strength. He certainly hadn’t expected it from such a petite woman. 

Heinous bent down and inserted the key into a small slot in the ground and turned it with a click. Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet collapsed and a long spiral staircase stretching into the darkness beneath was revealed. Heinous returned the key to her pocket before looking at Rasticore expectantly, much to his confusion. He had been caught off guard thanks to the multiple, unexpected turns this trip had taken and couldn’t for the life of him figure out what she was wanting. Her sharp eyes dug into his skin before she impatiently snapped, “Well? You are the one with the light.” 

Rasticore could slap himself for being so stupid and he quickly pulled the lantern out from behind his cloak, already brightly lit by phoenix embers. Without a word he started down the stairs, practically feeling Heinous roll her eyes behind his back and he had to clench his claw so tightly a few trickles of blood formed on his leathery skin. For not the first time, Rasticore seriously debated on just how bad a reputation he would get for killing his employer in cold blood. The lizard assassin cursed himself for his integrity as a killer for hire, every other job had been so easy but this one was really testing just how far he was willing to go for his reputation. He probably would have quit entirely if he weren’t for those stupid brats that eluded him mulitple times. Every attempt he made to take that worthless Princess Star resulted in complete and utter failure and the humiliation ate away at him almost as much as his anger. So if having to endure Heinous a little longer meant seeing the looks on those brats' faces when they finally got what was coming to them… well Rasticore wouldn’t miss that for the world. 

Rasticore smiled, imagining the faces of Butterfly and her friends when they realized they had lost and that brought a new fire back to his soul, descending the staircase with a new vigor. The lizard got a good look at his surroundings, his night vision easily spotting what it was they were down there for: robots. Dozens of them, old and rusted over to the point Rasticore questioned if they would even activate. He looked back at his boss, who was eying the robots with a glimmer of dark ambition, not at all concerned about their obvious defectiveness. 

“Thought all your robots were dismantled,” Rasticore questioned suspiciously. 

Heinous shook her head. “That’s just what you would think,” the woman replied in a condescending tone. “And I knew those idiot knights would believe the same thing, hence why I had these hidden away in case I was ever found out. Imagine it, they all believed they had beaten me and yet my true power was right under their nose all along.” 

“Well that explains their poor condition,” Rasticore mumbled to himself, low enough he knew Heinous couldn’t hear him.

The two reached the bottom of the staircase and Heinous began inspecting her machines closely, running her gloved fingers along their metal casings and grimacing at the layer of dirt left behind. “The truth is those robots from my time as principal were simple worker drones, but these, my dear Rasticore, are my army.” 

“So you had these things hidden away this whole time and you never thought to use them before now?” Rasticore asked in a deadpan, trying to hold back his rising anger. If she had an army this whole time, why bother hiring him for her dirty work? How much time had he wasted fulfilling her goals when she could have just as easily sent a robot to do it. 

“Of course I did,” Heinous replied with quite a bit of malice. “They were my plan from the beginning. I just had to wait for the right time to use them.” 

“And only after I’ve been poisoned for your little mission do you suddenly decide it’s the ‘right time’,” the lizard Monster grunted, doing air-quotes for emphasis. 

“Hold your tongue!” Heinous snapped, her voice echoing around the dark chamber. The two stared each other down, neither breaking eye contact for even a second. “You cannot possibly comprehend the amount of time and planning I put into this,” she continued, spitting every word violently at her minion. “I spent years concocting the perfect scheme to take back everything I lost, to regain control and create a perfect world order. And yet you dare to believe I would overlook something so carelessly. No. Everything has been planned out.” The woman turned her back to the assassin, stating smugly, “In a scheme like this, timing is everything, my dear Rasticore.” 

She approached the nearest robot, wiping the dust off its metal surface, pulling out the same key from before and examining it closely. “And the time has finally come for the next phase of my master plan,” she whispered decisively. With that she rammed the key into the center of the robot’s chest, causing its eyes to blink open and light up red. Heinous took a step back as the machine slowly rose to its feet, creaking and groaning loudly, its rusted body protesting greatly. Branches that had formed around its hollow shell snapped and broke as it pushed itself upward with great strength. Finally, the machine was up, standing tall and at attention, its red eyes blinking as it waited for new orders, somehow menacing despite its deteriorating body. 

Rasticore took a step towards the robot body, still eyeing it skeptically but didn’t see a point in arguing, if his boss wanted to gamble all their plans on some old, dumb robot then she could deal with the consequences. It wasn’t his problem if her plan failed, so long as he got paid. “So what, we send this hunk of junk after the Butterfly brat and finally be done with her.” He had to admit the idea of a robot taking her down instead of him left a sour taste in his mouth. 

Heinous admired her machine with a satisfactory smile, her hands delicately running along its frame. “Patience, Rasticore, patience. Star Butterfly will receive her punishment in due time. But for now she is too highly guarded to risk an attack on her. We must tread carefully from here on out, no more half-witted schemes, we must deal with her delicately or all of this will be in vain.” 

Rasticore grit his teeth at the small insult but kept his calm, extended time with Heinous had really helped him with his temper, the one good thing he could say about being stuck with the snooty, high-and-mighty ex-principal herself. “So who are we targeting?” Rasticore asked impatiently. “I thought the whole point of this field trip was so you could get your hands on Butterfly. You yourself said you needed a Mewman for-”

“And I what I said still holds true,” Heinous interrupted, turning to her minion with a very evil expression. “Which is why we will be targeting another old student of mine, one who is much less guarded and much more obtainable.” A dark look passed over Heinous’ face as she thought of one of her oldest and most successful students, just speaking her name again filled her with a satisfaction and pride Heinous had almost forgotten about. “Princess Penelope Spiderbite.” 

[blindprof]

It’s Complicated

When people first hear me say that I am blind or severely visually impaired (B/VI), the most common reaction is surprise…followed by sympathy…followed most often by awkward silence. This is totally understandable. Unless you are regularly interacting with differently abled people, disabilities are uncomfortable. I feel uncomfortable and awkward around people who live with other forms of disability.

Heck, I’m still awkward around other people who are B/VI. And even this is understandable. Because each person is unique. Each manifestation of visual impairment is unique. Each path to and with B/VI is unique. Each person has unique life experiences, coping mechanisms, support networks, etc. We are all strangers in a strange land. I’ll have other posts dedicated to the whack-a-doo personal and social psychology of B/VI. For now, the focus remains on the physical, or rather the perceptual.

The second reaction is usually a question: “How bad is it” or “What do you see?” And my answer is “It’s complicated.”

In my first post, I laid out some more technical details: I have a visual field that is less that 10 degrees, night blindness, color blindness, uncorrectable myopia, light sensitivity, etc. But it’s not apparent how these details really affect what I see and how that impacts what I can do. This post will go into greater detail into what and how I see. Later posts will focus on how I (try to, with varying levels of success, stupidity, and hilarity) cope with these limitations.

It probably makes sense to start with my visual field, as this is the aspect of my vision that “qualifies” me as legally blind. However, before getting to that, we really need a basic understanding of how humans see. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it short and simple.

It may be easiest to compare the eye to a modern digital camera. A camera lens gathers and focuses light; it also constrains the amount of light passing through by altering the size of a mechanical aperture. In the human eye, these functions are performed by the lens and the pupil, respectively. In a digital camera, the lens focus light onto a CCD or CMOS sensor, which is a dense grid of light sensitive “pixels,” each generating a small electrical charge proportional to how much light (within a certain wavelength) is hitting it. The human retina is the biological, electrochemical equivalent. Finally, a digital camera has wires that transport these electrical signals to a computer, which then interprets the signals to create a digital image. Here, the human analogues are the optic nerve and the visual cortex within the brain.

As I noted in my first post, I have Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP), which primarily impacts my retina. Due to the wonders of genetics and epigenetics, other parts are impacted. But for now, I’ll focus on the retina. Characteristically, people with RP find that their retinal “pixels”—millions of light-sensitive “rod” and “cone” structures, as well as protective retinal pigment epithelial (RPE) cells from which the disease gets its name—stop functioning from the outside in. We don’t know the exact cause, nor is there yet any proven way to slow, much less reverse the process.

Of course, this is a biological process that is unique to each individual. For me, it has progressed relatively slowly from childhood. I can recall early symptoms as far back as age 6. I’ll have a separate post at some point talking about progression. But it is notable the process is neither steady nor predictable. I’ll have periods of relative stability followed by periods of perceptible loss. It’s rarely like a light switch, but rather more like a dimmer. Each area of loss will appear darker with less usable information until it is just “clicked off” by the brain, presumably redirecting its limited processing resources to doing something other than trying to interpret shotty data from dying cells. For me, the progression has also been very spotty—for example, I retained some usable vision in the extremes of my left-right periphery until just a couple years ago, despite progressively losing most of my peripheral vision between there and my center.

The result today is that I have very little of my retina remaining that pretends to function “normally.” I can detect very high contrast light vs. dark in some of my periphery, but nothing there that you would qualify as usable sight. My central vision is still somewhat functional, but has been fading rapidly of late. As I said, it’s spotty, but on average in good light I have maybe 10-15 degrees total horizontal vision and less than 10 vertical. And much of that is probably equivalent to what most would consider to be peripheral vision. To help better “feel” what this means, here are a few examples of how this manifests itself in my day-to-day life.

When I’m sitting across a table from you, I can see your face but not your hands. If I’m not socially distant, I might be able to see your eyes or your mouth, but not both at the same time. I often creep people out during a conversation because I’m constantly losing eye contact and moving my eyes to different parts of their body. I promise, I’m not “undressing you with my eyes”—people talk with their entire bodies, and I’m simply trying to catch as many visual cues as possible.

When watching TV from 10 feet away, I can “see” my entire 55-inch screen. But less than a quarter of that is in my central vision. I have to move my eyes to see detail or read signs or captions. Sports and fast action scenes are difficult to catch. A fast action, dark scene with subtitles…oy…the Battle of Winterfell may as well have been a BBC Radio broadcast.

I can read, though usually only slowly and for short periods, especially if it is paper and ink. I see only a few words at a time, so my eyes have to constantly move. This causes a lot of eye strain, and I have trouble keeping both eyes properly oriented and occasionally have periods where one eye twitches uncontrollably—obviously I’m channeling my inner Mad-Eye Moody.

And of course, navigating unfamiliar or unpredictable environments is very difficult. I navigate by moving from waypoint to waypoint, and if I don’t know the waypoints or if things jump in my way, well, bad things happen. Or maybe funny things.

More on all of these and their many repercussions in future posts.

People ask, “What do you ‘see’ in the places where you have no vision? Is it blackness? Emptiness? Blurry?” Again, it’s complicated, but for the most part, my brain has just removed those areas from its visual processing “algorithm.�� So, I see the same thing that you see when something is beyond your peripheral vision…just nothing. There are long periods of adjustment as I lose sight—kind of like losing a limb and still expecting it to be there. But eventually it’s just not a part of the picture that my brain paints of the world around me.

Unfortunately, that’s not all. Night blindness is often the first detected symptom for folks with RP. What is left of my retina doesn’t detect light well, so I need much more of it. The result is that I’m totally blind in low-light situations. I need direct light to see any kind of detail. I carry a flashlight everywhere I go and use it regularly day and night.

So, I need bright light. But it is also my nemesis. My eyes compensate like one would with a digital camera…by cranking open the aperture (pupil) and turning up the gain on the sensor. This does allow me to function semi-normally in certain situations. But it also results in severe light sensitivity. As with a camera, the wider pupil also results in loss of detail, and bright light can almost entirely wash any other visual information. To make matters even worse, although my pupils do function, they are VERY slow to adjust.

The results of all of that are varied. I’ll post more details in the future. But for example, I am no longer able to read a computer screen for any length of time without inverted colors. It’s like trying to read while staring at headlights. I truly need dark mode on all of my devices. Also, changing lighting conditions are challenging, especially when they are extreme. When I come in from outside, my eyes can take many minutes to adjust. And bright light sources like sunny windows in otherwise moderately lit environments can really cause havoc.

Finally, a common comorbidity with RP are cataracts, which cause hardening and blurring of the lens. Of course, this one hit me, as well. A number of years ago, I had cataract surgery. It was great. I was the youngest patient in the surgery center by like 30 years. The process involves using a magic wand to dissolve your natural lens and replacing it with a plastic one. This gets rid of the blurring, but entirely removes the ability to focus. As a bonus, I did go from needing coke bottle glasses to just needing a couple of diopters of correction. But this further complicates reading, and means I’m constantly donning and doffing my specs or having to look below them to read. Minor in the big scheme of things, but it does make me look and feel like a damn old fart.

Okay, if you made it this far, you deserve to be let off the hook for now. There’s more like the fact that my corneas—the eyes’ (usually) clear “lens caps”—now seem to cause my sight to remain blurry for the first couple of hours of each day. Or that the eye strain can sometimes get so physically painful that I have to close my eyes for long periods during the day. But this is a mostly complete and accurate snapshot of what I’m currently living with physically.

I guess I didn’t present too many funny or uplifting or forward-looking things in here. Truth is, you kind of have to muddle along with me through these sewers to eventually find the humor and hope in all of this. Because it’s complicated. But I’ll get there if you’re patient.

[industrious-sloth]

9. FOLKORE by Taylor Swift

Oh boy. Let me preface this by saying I am a late convert to Taylor Swift. I didn’t like he country albums, I really did not appreciate being bombarded by news of what she was up to despite not having asked; and didn’t think she could sing. Once I blacklisted the #taylor swift tag, though, I found that I could enjoy some of her pop stuff isolated from all the discourse around it. Blank Space still is my favourite song of hers, something a righteous and true swiftie might sneer at (there’s a great episode of the Switched on Pop podcast explaining why Blank Space works so well, back from when it first came out).

There’s this strange thing about Taylor Swift’s albums, though. I never like them the first time I listen to them. It’s not that I blatantly dislike them, but they take some getting used to. Take hoax, for instance, which at first ranked between blah and meh, yet now is one of my favourites. In no way is this odd effect exclusive to Folklore, either – last year’s Lover, which remains her best in my opinion, also needed to grow on the listener, as did Reputation. Evermore is yet to grow on me, but at this point I doubt it will – she would have done better by launching it as a B-side to Folklore as opposed to as its own album, because it really just sounds like the Folklore Rejects Compilation (apart from Long Story Short and Champagne Problems).

All of this got me thinking about the number of chances we give albums before we make up our minds about them. Would I have enjoyed Folklore as much as I did, in the end, had it not been in everyone’s mind? Had it not been trending for the entire week it came out, would I have given it another shot? Some albums do take longer to reveal themselves, so how do you know when they simply won’t? Am I going to stand corrected in two months saying that actually, Evermore is a fine album? And if I do, wouldn’t it be a little messed up that it is only due to how unescapable Taylor Swift is? Furthermore, how can I even tell whether Folklore is a good record or if I have simply been overexposed to it, having come to find comfort in songs to which I know the lyrics and notes? How can one even attempt to find common ground in criticism when one is forced into “Distant Listening”?

Perhaps we would do best to start at the more basic level, no discourse: just the good, the bad, and the weird. Actually, let’s start with the bad, as that is always more fun for evil-spirited people such as myself: I hate the grammar in this album – and by that, I don’t mean the pretentious interactions some critics refer to as grammar, but the actual grammar. I am an English teacher, and pop singers really complicate my life when they take a perfectly usable song to teach students English, and ruin it with bad grammar. It happened last year with The Man  – why couldn’t she have said If I were a man? Why, god, why? I could have been able to teach them second conditionals and feminism– and again in songs here.

Take The 1, for instance, where she says “if you wanted me, you really should have showed”, instead of the correct participle form shown. It wouldn’t have made any difference whatsoever, rhyme or song wise, the one thing it would have done is save the life of ESL teachers everywhere. In this same song, she constantly uses “would’ve been” when she should be using “had”. Listen, I would not be pointing this out were it not extremely bothersome to me as a Brazilian English major. I start getting like Henry Higgins, about to burst into Why Can’t the English Teach Their Children How to Speak? If I ever made such mistakes, people would think I didn’t speak proper English.

Honestly, the 1 isn’t even the worst song grammar-wise – I can still listen to it and enjoy it, unlike mad woman, which is every ESL teacher’s nightmare. I can just imagine a snarky pre-teen going “But Taylor Swift says more crazy instead of crazier and more angry instead of angrier, and she’s American, so she’s right!” and closing the book on comparatives. Why must Taylor make my life so hard? Also, what’s up with the lower-case titles? That’s just pretentious. And yes, it’s annoying when Ariana does it as well.

Anyhow, this is a great album despite my pet-peeves. The storytelling is fun, the lyrics brilliant as usual, and Taylor’s realisation that she doesn’t always have to write about herself even better. I also love the unrequited rhymes in this, You heard the rumours from Inez/ You can’t believe a word she says is such a kooky combination, it’s practically insane. Those, nevertheless, make startling appearances all over the record, here’s another one, from last great american dynasty,  which could have been written for Lana Del Rey: The wedding was charming, but a little gauche/ There’s only so far new money goes.

Taylor really rhymed Inez with says, and gauche with goes. And it worked. Also, when she sings “I’ve been meaning to tell you your house was haunted”… What do you mean, you’ve been meaning to tell them? Is it not pressing enough?

“Oh, by the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I saw a poltergeist at your house.”

“What, like, now?”

“No, I saw it a couple of months ago. Forgot to mention it.”

Incredible. I love lyrics that make you think – not in a philosophical or existential way, just, you know, about the situation their acceptance of their premise actually requires. Even the metaphors: my only one, my smoking gun. What does that mean? I don’t know, but I want to think about it until it makes sense!

Obviously, betty is everyone’s darling, but this is me trying is the real lyrical masterpiece of this album, at least for all clinical depressives out there, including yours truly. Is it extremely bold of Taylor Swift to write a Former Gifted Kid anthem, considering she has not ceased to put out hit after hit since she was in her teens? As an ex-gifted kid myself, I am okay with it as long as it’s good and accurate.

Folklore has so many secrets, so many auburn leaves paving its way, we could not possibly talk about every one of them. It has certainly felt like a quarantine album in that it’s been a fine quarantine companion, always whispering something new.

Best song: Spotify Wrapped doesn’t lie, and it’s my tears ricochet even though some of the lyrics in it are sort of over-the-top (I’m seriously talking about every time the word ricochet shows up, and nothing else).

Skip: mad woman. I cannot listen to it. Infuriating.

Best lyrics: You told me all of my cages were mental/ So I got wasted like all my potential (this is me trying)

I mean, how can you beat that? I’m seriously asking. For a friend

[what-big-teeth]

Spark (Male Fire Elemental, pt. 1)

When graduate student Simone Price inherits her deceased grandmother’s house, she hopes to mend bridges that were long burned prior to the sudden passing by way of fond memories. But she soon learns two important truths. One, the cause behind those severed connections is still around. Two, the childhood fables her grandmother told her are more rooted in reality than imaginative fantasy.

Female Human (POV) x Male Monster [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] ”It’s...charming, you know? Really rustic.” Mica carefully chooses her words and attempts a cheerful smile. When she fails, she settles on tucking a loose microbraid behind her deep brown ear. “Right, Mason?”

Mason hefts the large, black garbage bag full of cleaning tools off the ground, gives the old house a once-over from top to bottom, then snorts. Loudly. Mica swiftly elbows her twin in the ribs for “being rude”, but even I can’t stop my nose from scrunching up in displeasure. 

She can dress up her opinion with as many euphemisms as she wants. But the truth is plain as day: Nana’s place has gone to the dogs. 

The two story’s once brilliant white paint is a dingy, chipping mess that reveals the underlying dark decay. The windows, always transparent enough to see through when the curtains were drawn back, are caked with grime and rust. And the front door, a deep, beautiful burgundy my mind can still picture, has dulled into a paler shade of red. I wouldn’t be surprised if Nana’s little garden in the backyard has been choked by weeds and overrun with wild plants. It saddens me to see the current state of her home compared to when my visits were more common. That was before Dad suddenly severed all contact with Nana ten years ago, when I was only thirteen.

A warm weight settles onto my shoulder, fending off the morning’s autumnal chill. Mica wears a sympathetic smile.

“Are you alright, Simone?”

I’ll never be able to thank Mica and Mason enough for sacrificing part of their Thanksgiving break to help me out. But I can try by remaining as positive as possible. 

“I will be,” I say. “Once Nana’s place starts looking like it used to.”

“It’s your house now,” Mason says, adjusting his grip on the garbage bag. Oddly enough, his words sound sad. “You sure you don’t want to do anything different with it?”

It came as a shock when Nana’s last will and testament bequeathed the entirety of her property and assets to me. Dad did all he could to contest the document, but his attempts failed. I’ll never forget the haunted look in his dark eyes when I asked him why he disagreed with my newfound inheritance.

“That place isn’t a home, baby. Not with what it’s got locked inside of it.”

I later refused to budge on the matter, even when he begged me to. After that, Dad told me to do as I wished, but to be careful and stay vigilant. I didn’t understand what he meant then and I still don’t. But I hope, with some hard work and lots of love, Nana’s house will be whole again. Then with time, Dad will come to visit and remember the good times before his mother’s passing.

“Earth to Simone,” Mason says. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, and I’m sure.” I fish out the front door key from my coat pocket and smile. “Let’s get to work.”

We hang our coats in the entryway. Once the buckets, brooms, and mops are divvied up among us, Mason works on doling out the cleaning solution. We then decide on who gets what area. Mason is quick to claim the upstairs, citing the possibility of rotten wood weakening the floor.

“I’d rather fall to the first floor and get hurt than see it happen to you two,” he says in an obstinate tone. “Especially since you two might end up worse off.”

“Always the gentleman,” Mica mutters, rolling her light brown eyes. “I’ll take the kitchen and dining room. Might be worth it to see what condition your Nana’s cookware is in.”

“Good idea,” I say. “Just be sure to yell if you find anything interesting.”

“Will do!” She grabs her broom, bucket, and mop,then leaves the foyer.

“Guess that leaves me with the living room and fireplace,” I say.

Mason replies with a hum I can’t discern, which is weird since Mica and I are fluent in Mason-ese. Always have been since we were little kids.

“Something up?” I ask.

His neutral expression doesn’t reveal a thing and that worries me. He’s always had a tell or two, even when he’s tried to hide something from me. Instead of talking, he just ties back his dreadlocks, grabs his share of the cleaning supplies, and walks towards the stairs.

“Call me if you need anything.”

I follow his old sneakers until they vanish from my line of sight. That was weird. But there’s no point in digging to figure out what’s going on. He’ll tell me when he feels like it.

After locking the front door and grabbing a broom, my feet guide me down the main hallway towards the living room. And my heart nearly breaks at the sight. Just about everything is covered in a thin layer of dust and cobwebs, including Nana’s knitting basket and needles. The floor and rug are worst off and I’m somewhat scared to tackle the fireplace. But if I don’t, no one else besides Mica and Mason will. Especially not anyone in town.

After asking for directions and mentioning our reasons for being here, nearly everyone bid us a swift farewell, claiming they had something to do. Only a few upfront people told us to leave the estate alone and head back home, claiming that a witch once lived there.

My grip on the broom handle tightens to the point of pain.

Nana was many things; a huge sun tea addict, an amazing storyteller, and a wonderful knitter. She may have used Black folk magic to help me with my childhood night terrors, but she wasn’t a—

“Ow!”

A thick wooden splinter peers up at me from my index finger alongside a bead of blood. This is why I told Mason we should’ve packed the plastic brooms instead. I lean the broom against the brick mantle, swiftly remove the sliver, and flick it into the dead fireplace.

The piled ash sparks with light and heat, singeing the cobwebs. 

“What in the…”

“Simone!”

“Gah!” I wait until my racing pulse calms a bit then respond. “Yeah?”

“I found your Nana’s bundt cake pan,” Mica yells out, “but I can’t tell if it’s still usable.”

“I’ll be there in a moment!”

I look back at the fireplace. Nothing but cold ash. I shake my head and make my way to the kitchen, trying to recall where Mason keeps the mini first-aid kit in his pickup truck.

Midday sneaks up on us, warming the chilly house a few more degrees. Mica decides it’s the perfect time to break for lunch and Mason agrees.

“We passed by a burger joint on the main road,” Mica says, wiping off her hands. “Wanna give it a try?”

Even with the tempting prospect of a patty melt, my mind keeps drifting back to the fireplace. And what I think I witnessed.

“Sure, but do you guys mind going without me? I want to get more cleaning in before the day’s out.”

“Seriously?” Mason is quick to call out my attempt at an excuse. “We’ve been at it for four hours.”

Before Mica can chastise him for being, well, himself, I think up a compromise.

“What if I took an extended break instead? I won’t touch a broom, mop, or bucket while you guys are out and I’ll eat with you once you get back. Sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect!” Mica chirps up. She grabs Mason by his forearm and starts hauling him towards the foyer before he can object. “We’ll be back soon. A patty melt with onions and a small fry?”

“And a bottled water too, please!”

The front door slams shut, the sound echoing until the truck’s engine revs up. I let out a heavy sigh and plop down onto the couch, uncaring of the weak cushioning.

“Finally. I thought they’d never leave.”

I stop myself from launching off the sofa, but my feet still slip on the area rug. My ass slams onto the floor with a hard thud and a deep chuckle follows soon after.

“You’re not very graceful, are you?”

“Who—!”

A large, bright flame emerges from the ash piled in the fireplace. It twists and curls in random patterns until it settles into the distinctive outline of a humanoid face. It grins. I scramble away and slam into the opposite wall.

“What’s this?” it says. “A descendant of Abigail, afraid of me?”

No shit. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be? But, as the barely-calm-and-reasonable part of my brain points out, I won’t get any answers if I let my tongue turn into lead.

“Who are you? How do you know Nana?”

The flame…face…creature remains silent far longer than need be. Its eyes narrow.

“Don’t mock me, girl. You know very well who I am. Or did you forget Abigail’s tales all too quickly?”

The creature’s words slowly begin to make sense, as much as my mind begs them not to. Nana used to tell me all kinds of stories when I was little. But she’d always retell my favorite whenever I asked: the story of a fearless Black girl who trapped an evil flame spirit, thereby saving the town she lived in.

“Oh my god. That story was about you?”

“Cruel, isn’t it? Conditioning a child to believe a lie through a simple fable. All whilst I could hear and see everything. Abigail was always a manipulative, abusive wench.”

Hot, white anger floods my body, wrenching me to my feet. 

“Like hell,” I hiss, stalking towards the fireplace.

The creature peers up at me, stunned and silent. Good.

“Nana would never harm anyone. But she sure as hell didn’t take shit from anybody. Ever. What did you do?”

The story always characterized the fire spirit as evil, but never gave a reason. So why not ask the source?

“Well?!”

“Simone?”

My gaze snaps up. Mason stares at me with brows furrowed with concern and confusion. My rage dissipates into nothing, leaving me drained.

“You alright?” he asks.

I glance down at the fireplace. The creature’s vanished. Leaving me to look like an utter fool.

“Uh, yeah! I was just…re-enacting a scene from my favorite drama! Nothing else to do while waiting for you guys to get back, right?”

Mason’s eyes narrow, the simple action screaming ‘bullshit’. “Not even looking at your phone?”

I jam my hand inside my back jeans pocket and pull out my smartphone. Surprisingly, there’s service.

“Not enough bars,” I lie.

Mason doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, but thankfully, he lets my horrible excuse slide. He holds up a large, white paper bag stained with grease. The scent wafting from the inside makes my empty stomach clench with anticipation.

“Mica and I will be in the dining room. Be sure to come and eat while the food’s hot.”

He walks off, the wooden floor creaking underneath his every step. With a heavy sigh, I start to follow.

“Perhaps you are more like Abigail than I first believed: utterly stubborn and foolishly brave.”

I stop moving. If the creature’s words were meant to insult me, they fail. Pride wells up in me and it takes all my willpower to not smile. It somehow notices and scoffs.

“To answer your earlier questions, past humans have called me a fire elemental. And one gave me the name Ignis.”

The creature...Ignis begins to recede back into the ash pile, but my mouth opens before it can vanish.

“Wait.”

He does, to my surprise.

“You weren’t awake before we arrived, right? Which means something made you come around.”

I carefully recall Nana’s story, then all of the related events leading up until now. My eyes widen.

“It was my blood on the splinter. That’s what woke you up. Because I’m of her bloodline.”

Ignis continues to sink further into the ash, but says one last thing.

“You have a sharp mind as well. How interesting…”

The fireplace goes dark, but I stand before it, staring.

I get it now. I understand why Dad severed contact with Nana ten years ago and never wanted me to inherit this place. Why Nana told me those childhood fables and willed her home to me.

But Dad’s still wrong. This house will be a home. But first, I have to finish what Nana started.

[skamfrance]

Interviewer : You can find SKAM on france tv and on other platforms.

Hi Axel!

Axel : Hello!

I : How are you?

A : I’m great, what about you?

I : Axel, how do you manage to have this much energy? I know people usually ask me this, but you’re currently on tour all around the country with your show ‘Une vie sur mesure’, and not ‘Une vie meilleure’, as I’ve been saying (mumbled, i don’t understand the rest of his sentence). ‘Une vie meilleure’ is a movie. I confused the two of them.

You’ve just finished filming season 3 and 4 of SKAM. We’ll explain the special format soon, you filmed both seasons together. You’ve just come back from filming a movie and you’re going back tomorrow. How are you living? What’s going on?

A : Listen, it’s cool, you have to enjoy it and I’m really happy and aware of how lucky I am to be able to live out my childhood dreams. But I’m also aware of how ephemeral it can be and that you have to work. You have to enjoy your opportunities but also be aware that everything can be over tomorrow. You have to live everything out as much as possible. This is insane and amazing.

I : And how old are you, Axel?

A : I’m 21.

I : You’re 21. I’d like to say, I’ve seen the first two seasons of SKAM. I just saw the last two, or at least the 3rd one, the leaked episodes. Leaked episodes? No, the ones that came out.

This season is amazing. First of all, we’ve been waiting for LGBT representation for a long time. We can find them after 18 years old, but not never from the point of view of a high school life. I know it’s been good for a lot of young people, I’m thinking about the kids from Le Refuge (French LGBT organisation that’s a shelter for LGBT kids who’ve been kicked out of their homes) who are listening to us. Just for that, congrats on having had the choice to do this role. It’s not an obvious choice for lots of actors. I know it was never a problem for you, but it is for a lot of actors.

On a technical level, this season is extraordinary. The use of lights has nothing to do with first two seasons. I’m only saying that because of cinema fans who might have skimmed over the first two seasons. I’m telling you, this is on another level. I was amazed - not that I didn’t like the first seasons-, I was amazed by this one.

When you got the script, did you know it was well above the first two seasons? Did you realise it? And did you understand that it would be so good on a technical level? The technical work on the lighting is great, especially considering the fact that I know you have really long filming days. 8... 18 usable minutes per day?

A : No, no, it’s about 12 to 14 minutes minimum.

I : Why don’t you explain to us the SKAM experience, after this onslaught of questions?

A : I at least felt, not that it was gonna be above, far from it, but that it was gonna be different. Because for one, for the first two seasons, David Hourregue, the director, and even the writers, we’d signed a contract with France TV... I mean, ‘we signed’, I didn’t sign anything, but they signed the fact that they really had to stick to the original, be the same narrative framework, be close to the original script, and the camera angles, and the story.

So they had this constraint of the Norwegian version in this french adaptation.

I : It was crazy, a huge success over there.

A : And I understand that! It talked about the teenage years and really important matters.

I : With a different tone.

A : With a different tone, not overly emotional. And in this third season, from the beginning, David... David Hourregue, the director, who’s a magnificent conductor, to be able to make 14 usable minutes of footage every day, it’s truly... He’s an amazing team leader, and always with benevolence. He knows how to direct each person with different words, but always in an admirable way... Uhm, he immediately set his conditions, meaning he really wanted this season to be true to his vision, he wanted to be able to change some things from the framework, so that it wouldn’t be a copy and paste from the original.

So right from the beginning, when he showed me the script...

I : Had you seen the original version?

A : Yes, I’d seen it. I’d seen it. And it reassured me too, because it’s true that the characters came from us a lot more, he took inspiration from us because he knew us, to write the characters and to write Lucas’ evolution.

I : He’s a very dreamlike character, he’s a bit like you. We’ll talk about it later.

A : Do you think so?

I : Yeah. He’s a bit like you. There are a lot of differences, but I think he’s a bit like you, in regards to the poetry or the dreamlike quality... He’s someone who could be from the 18th century, the 19th century...

A : That’s nice.

I : It’s a compliment!

A : I’m glad I came!

I : Did you work on... When you got the script, did you tell yourself, ‘okay, when it come to gay representation, or just the representation of a high shcool, love story, but between two guys...” Did you need to look for other movies, or novels? Did you do research work on this? Did you just go on the set spontaneously, as an actor, without any research beforehand.

A : No, no there was research work before. I saw Call Me By Your Name, I saw Moonlight, I saw The Office. Not for the LGBT representation, but for references David wanted me to have. I also did a lot of preparation with Maxence Danet-Fauvel, who plays Eliott.

I : He’s amazing, the two of you have an incredible chemistry.

A : He’s a genius, it was a really beautiful meeting with him. We got very lucky, and we did a lot of work beforehand to have this chemistry, and to know and trust each other. So that when we got on the set, we could just let Maxence and Axel go and really be in character. We trusted the whole team.

You were talking earlier about the photography, and I would like to thank Xavier Dolleans, who’s doing amazing work. He’s an unbelievable operating chief. To do 12 to 14 minutes of usable footage everyday... I don’t know if you guys realise this, it’s truly a lot...

I : 12 to 14 minutes, it’s 12 to 14 minutes of scenes that can be used in the cutting room. Usually, it’s 2 to 3 minutes in movies and 5 to 7 minutes for tv shows. It’s a lot.

A : And to be able to have this maturity with the light, and...I saw him manage his team and it’s really a fantastic team, and it was a team which was dedicated to this story, and everyone really wanted to...There was a week when we did at least three hours of overtime every day. 

And there was really a thing where every one was carried by the same energy, and to really...give life to this story, which we all thought was beautiful, and the whole team was really motivated and that also really contributed to the fact that we really had fun, we really enjoyed ourselves, and it really has been a crazy experience to live as these characters and to live this story.

I : And did you know...did you see what we call the rush combo (??), did you realise that from a technical standpoint it was superior? I’m really impressed by the editing, the filming, the music. I actually texted you about this when I watched the episodes. I really liked seasons 1 and 2, but here, we’re clearly at the next level, especially since I know you were filming 18 usable minutes a day, which is huge. Did you realise that you were going to the next level?

It’s promising for seasons 5-6, which are coming soon.

A : No, season 4.

I : But you’re filming seasons 5-6 soon, right?

A : Uh... No. Not that I’m aware of. I might not be invited.

I : Oh, well, we’ll talk about it. So, for now, season 3 is filmed and season 4...

A : Season 4 is also filmed.

I : It’s also filmed.

A : But for seasons 5-6, we don’t have any news yet.

I : Yes, but it’s so successful, it would surprise me if you didn’t... you have to say it’s really successful. It’s even more successful than the first two seasons if I’m not wrong. I know you’re humble and won’t say it. I’m telling you, it’s smashing everything on the platform.

A : Yes, it’s crazy, and we’re so happy. We see people’s reactions, and we get messages in which... young people tell us it can help them, give them confidence, show them they’re not alone. An we realised, and I realised more and more while we were filming, while trying to live this story, how difficult it could be for young people today. That it was still relevant.

I : What do you mean, you realised it?

A : Because the character ends up having to lie, to hide his feelings...

I : Did you meet people, I’m thinking about all those young people from Le Refuge who are listening to us.... Did you meet young people who... Because, in your life, you’ve met people who...

A : I met people around me, I have friends who... I have a friend who came out two years ago. And to see how the way people look at you can change too, people who said they were your friends and suddenly turn their backs on you...

That’s something that’s very violent and I never had to live through. I saw it through my friends. And there, I was at the center of the story, and even if it wasn’t my life, when I got on the set, and I was Lucas and we were filming scenes where things were going badly, I realised what this could be like in real life, at least at my scale.

And I also realise how important it is. That’s why the message from the show is that, even if society gives more and more importance to assholes who think they have a right to judge other people, well, you’re not alone, and love prevails, love will win and you have to be proud of who you are.

You have a right to love a girl, to love a guy, to change, and it’s really important to say you have a right to do that, and that a love story like Lucas’ and Eliott’s is beautiful, and that’s what you should remember.

I : And have you gotten... I know we had Medhi Meskar for the show Les Engagés (french web serie about LGBT activists; it’s amazing, you should watch it) and he said he got quite a few messages from young gays from the Maghreb, I got some when I was on Clem (another tv show). Have you gotten messages... you blew up and social media recently and you deserve it, I’m really happy for you, but did you get messages from young people saying thank you?

A : A lot, yeah! And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about! We started the show, and that’s true... Maxence and I had a drink together, which ended pretty late... And we told each other the purpose of the show was to have an experience above everything else and on top of that, to help even just one young person to be able to accept themselves to realise they could and should be proud of who they are. And when we get messages like that, it feels like we’ve won everything. Because this crazy experience lasts longer, and seeing what the show’s impact on people can be is amazing.

I : What did your work on this show teach you as an actor? How did it make you grow as an actor? And did you have time to look at the technical parts? I know things go really quickly on this show, but the technique is so amazing, did you take advantage of that to see how an operator works etc?

A : So, I’m super naive about technique, to be honest. I know we used the same camera as Avatar. I mean, the same model. Beyond that, I’ll admit I don’t really know... I learned that... I mean, I learned... it went really fast, so you had to be in it right away. And I was lucky, I was in every frame of the story, so you had to be quick, go from one state to the other. It was real work, getting on set and already having all of the script in your head, what moment we were shooting, to know that if I was shooting the scene from episode 9 before the scene from episode 4, to know what had happened before the episode 4 scene even though I’d just shot episode 9. It was a lot.

I : How did you do it? Did you have a notebook?

A : I did have a notebook and post it notes each day with what had happened before, what my relationship was with each character at this point, what I was thinking when I got there etc. It was a lot of work before shooting.

[enevi]

Shirogane no Oka, Kuro no Tsuki - Volume Three

Welcome back to Hakkei Palace where winter reigns and living ghosts grow in numbers, whereas in Bun Province the chilling wind blows away the last vestiges of hope... Or does it? With the winter descending upon the capital city of Kouki disquiet comes over the residents of kirin household. The feeling of both mental and physical unease grows among the servants as Heichuu and Tokuyuu (along with Juntatsu, one of the two Bun'en's assistants delegated to take care of Taiki) are becoming more and more distant in both metaphorical and literal sense, the former being suddenly transferred to the Inner Palace and the latter simply disappearing from his room just the other day. Kouryou is also one of the affected ones with perpetual headache and exhaustion making his doubts going into overdrive. He also really doesn't like the fact that Keitou was nominated as the deputy governor and Taiki not speaking his mind doesn't help the situation. As if sensing all this Taiki takes Kouryou for a walk around the garden. The day is cold so it's unlikely that their talk will be overheard by someone uninvited, but just in case they leave Yari to watch for any possible eavesdroppers. Like Shouwa for example, who is spying for one of the ministers, Risshou and whom others already suspect as she's not really good at that as opposed to her actual job as a caretaker. They take their seats in the garden pavilion by the little waterfall and the long and heartful conversation starts. Kouryou voices his doubts about Keitou's appointment and as Taiki explains about his decision, he finally agrees, that indeed, there was no other choice as the rest of the courtiers are either uncooperative or incompetent. Or both at once, like previous deputy Shison who was not only dismissed but also place in the house arrest by the Minister of Fall. As Kouryou thinks that is all, the Taiki, as if knowing that this talk is long overdue, finally opens up to somebody. He shares his doubts and Kouryou's not only surprised but also shocked that at the very beginning even Risai was under Taiki's suspicion as he had no way to know if it really were the general's genuine efforts and wishes that brought him back home. Or maybe it was Asen plan all along? Maybe he had known something about Taiki's worsening condition in Hourai and wanted him alive so he used Risai and Taiki's relationship as a guise to get other kingdoms to the work for him? Taiki had no way to be sure, but still had to take that leap of faith and if by any chance it turned out that Risai was really working for Asen, then well… It would have been that both Gyouso and Taiki were basically screwed (his words, not mine). Fortunately, it all turned out well and as Risai did not pursue Taiki after his sudden disappearance with Kouryou, kirin could take one big sigh of relief and finally start trusting his companions. Kouryou included. Especially in Hakkei Palace, where almost everyone has to be seen as their enemy, for it's really easy to trust the wrong person and consequently fail, as far as their mission is concerned. As of now Taiki trusts no one apart from Kouryou. And with more and more people disappearing it's difficult in the long term to find someone useful and trustworthy. Also as so many years have passed, they had no way to know anything about Gyousou's whereabouts. In case he was kept somewhere in the palace, someone had to get in and investigate. And who better than Taiki himself whom others couldn't really harm, if they wanted to keep the throne empty, for if they lose their kirin, the fate of kingdom goes back into Tentei's own hands and all that's left for the subjects to do, is to wait for the new kirin to be born and king to be chosen when the former matures enough to do it. What's more, the lie about the new ruler would also serve the purpose of taking the Court's eyes from Risai's search. As it all depends on kirin's instincts and sensing the king's aura, no one can verify the truth before the factual ceremony of ascension takes place. And it is known that kirins can't escape their nature and no say in the choosing, they also aren't likely to lie about it (or something like that…). Nevertheless, Taiki does acknowledges the fact that he really underestimated the whole situation and did not expect it to be so complicated. Thus, the current troubles. Kirin is also quietly surprised at Kouryou confessing his doubts about the 'New King' lie, and apologize for to reassuring him earlier, for there was no occasion for them to speak openly as there was always some else around. He also says that his gaze often strays, but not toward the Inner Palace, but toward the north. And that’s where Risai is and presumably Gyousou, too… At the same time, as someone constantly interferes with his plans, he's intending to pay Asen a surprise visit. The faster, the better - like tonight, for example. Of course, Kouryou doesn't want to hear about Taiki going alone, but then is seemingly convinced that going together is no the best idea, as there is no law about kirin being forbidden from going to any part of the Royal Palace (King's private quarters included, whereas Kouryou being a simple bodyguard wouldn't go unpunished, if found. And as the access to Inner Palace, where Asen resides, is heavily restricted and as (thanks to Seirai telling him in the past) Taiki does know how to use the secret shortcuts, it’s better for him to go alone… So as Taiki sneaks out his mansion under the cover of the night, it’s no surprise that Kouryou actually plans to follow him, but at the last moment is stopped by Yari, who tells him that she is more suited to do it as she did it a few times before and was never caught. He agrees and it ends up with Yari shadowing their willful kirin. As she goes after him she can't help but compare his current personality with the stories she heard from Ganchou. Stories about kind-hearted, innocent and intelligent child full of curiosity and respect for his surroundings. On the other hand, the grown up version is overly cautious, distrustful to the point of being paranoid, secretive and calculating. Also prone to scheme and telling a lot of lies. Far from typical kirins, to be sure. And so much more interesting. As she sees one of the marionette-like servants watching she also hears a suspicious a dove-like sound. And discovers a beast perched just beneath the building rooftop, jisen - a bird-like youma that has the power to suck out people's souls out of their bodies. Yari did suspect that something like this could be responsible for the state of the palace servants and clearly disturbed she quickly runs after Taiki. To Taiki's surpise he finally does find Asen, but not in the main part of the Inner Palace, but (quiet incidentally, to tell the truth) in one of the inconspicuous building in the eastern palace. In the dimly-lit room Taiki watches him seating all alone and humming the certain well known song about the gruesome and sad fate of the foot soldier, and wondering if this is the perfect reflection of Asen's unwillingness to take up the mantle of leader. The man himself is fairly surprised to see Taiki in such a place, but quickly recovers and becomes his normal distant and sarcastic self. For a moment they talk, but as Taiki points out that he doesn't think that Asen rebelled against Gyousou purely out of envy and spite, Asen quickly cuts him off and asks what is he really doing here. To that Taiki says that he wants Asen to step up and actually rule the country, for its citizens need the government help to survive the winter and to restore at least some of the court's basic functions. He also requests for Seirai to be released and returned to his side, but fed up with his advisor's audacity Asen summons his guard to transport Taiki back to his quarters and says that nothing can resume without the documents that Seirai supposedly stole. As kirin is brought back to his mansion, enraged Chouun barges in demanding the explanation and for Taiki not to do anything without consulting him beforehand. They get into a serious argument and everyone suspects that from this moment the slighted minister will be openly hostile toward already hated Taiki who in turn is absolutely calm and shrugs it off. As does Asen throwing out the letter from Chouun in which the minister demands him to take a clear actions against Saiho. At the same time he notices that another one of his puppet has just become useless and needs to be dealt with. For they are quiet easy to make but much more difficult to keep usable for the long time. They may have the right spells to somehow weaken the symptoms of jisen-induced 'illness', it still spreads, albeit much slower, though it transforms infected person into a living corpse that can be easily manipulated. Just a moment later Rousan invites herself in and while they have a 'friendly' chat about this and that, Asen starts reminiscing about his rivalry with Gyousou and how it brought upon his fall from grace. How it all began and how became a living hell for Asen himself when quiet friendly rivalry changed into desperate race to outspeed his shadow. For people said they were so much alike, started comparing them and finally came to conclusion that Asen was Gyousou's shadow and not the other way around. And then when after disobeying the king's orders Gyousou resigned from his post and went away, Asen came to realize that their rivalry might had been strictly one-sided and that all his excitement and respect were never reciprocated in the first place. That to Gyousou he had never been a challenge he'd look forward to. It hurt, but so be it, his nemesis left the royal courts and would just be forgotten with Asen's humiliation and hate. But to no avail, for the king himself demanded Gyousou's return and the man did come back eventually. And it just deepened Asen's already deeply-rooted hatred for the man. But he did manage to keep a lid on his emotions, to stop them from overflowing. Then Gyousou was named a new king and all Asen could do was to curse his fear of getting this ultimate confirmation of Gyousou's superiority. But then he had a talk with Rousan who told him that it wasn't really preordained that it was Gyousou who was supposed to be king. As kirin is the creature of instinct and could only sense the aura of the person not their exact personality and as Asen and Gyosou were so much alike, then who knows. Maybe if Asen had decided to climb the Mt. Hou at the same time as his rival, then maybe just maybe he would had been chosen. That gave Asen some ideas and while he was sure that Rousan might had just been feeding up his delusions for her own purposes he could stop thinking what if. Now, in the hindsight, Asen thinks, it might had been because Rousan, who counted herself among the most trusted of Gyousou's people, started to hate kirin for taking her place as the side of her liege. Not that Rousan confirms his suspicions. Instead she tells him that even though she has deeper feelings for their lord, her curiosity and the need to know everything about the relationship between rulers and the Heaven trump it all. And as no one would give her this knowledge on the platter, she had to find for herself… She also tells Asen to follow Taiki's advice and start ruling, because Heaven might become impatient and take back Its hard-won blessing before he realizes it's too late. In the meantime humiliated and outraged Chouun who was ignored by his liege one time too many, proceeds to make Taiki's life even more difficult and appoints previously dismissed Shison as the minister directly responsible for Saiho's well-being. Everything to make him regret going against the Prime Minister and getting rid of a troublesome subordinate at the same time. For if Shison does unwittingly interfere with Taiki's plan out of misguided feeling of obligation to Chouun for 'saving' him, he will be punished for his mistakes and no one will connect his actions with chousai himself. As Chouun trashes his own office in the fit of rage, his assistant, Ansaku, quietly observes while making the plans of his own…

*** Meanwhile in Rin'u Risai withdraws from the investigation and spends all her time in temple stables seeking consolation by Hi'en's side. But then Kenchuu brings invitation from the Sekirin Temple head priest herself and Risai knows she can't reject it because the monastery is normally closed for common people. There they're welcomed by the leader, elder woman named Mokuu, and by her side they see a few residents from Rouan. Among them is the village elder and the boy Risai and the others met by the grave of the unnamed soldier. As it turns out, not long after the group left Rouan, Kaisei left for the Temple to report the villagers' alleged crime and as they went after him to and also made it to Sekirin, Mokuu thought it wise to invite other people involved. So the chief deputy the proceeds to explain everything. About half year after King's disappearance the residents of Rouan did indeed find a wounded soldier, who eventually turned out to be one of Gyousou's supporters but at that time every city and village guilty of harboring the fugitives was burned to the ground, so they had to keep quiet about it. The years went by, but the man never fully recovered as he recklessly forced his body to get better and repeatedly fell ill. At the end, when his condition started to worsen rapidly he lied to Kaisei and refused to take the medicine because it was too expensive, so his caretakers had no choice but to secretly put it into his meals and the boy mistook it for the poison. As the soldier died in the end and not long after that the two deserters made it to Rouan and described Gyousou's appearance they then came up with the story that if any of the kings supporters came to search for him they would tell that it most probalby had been him. On the other hand, if the followers of newly elected king suddenly arrived, they were to tell them, that there had not seen anyone suspicious. Everything to protect themselves from eventual accusations. And while Seishi's furious, Risai says that she does understand their way of thinking and doesn't hold the lie against them, emphasizing how it is the sages' duty to think about the king, country and its people and that there's nothing strange with commoners prioritizing their own survival. Then Mokuu reveals that there's something really suspicious about the announcement of Asen's ascension, because her usual informant (the one separate from her 'spy' network) sent her the message. She doesn't know who this person is, but their predictions and warnings always come true and the bird used to deliver those letters is an expensive and very rare one that someone can't simply buy as it's mainly by the courtiers. Therefore, there is still hope for Gyousou's followers. When Mokuu withdraws to her quarters and the people from Rouan leave, Risai is then approached by the woman (named Shunsui) she rescued from the bandits not so long ago. As it turns out, both she and Kenchuu belong to the group that survived the purge of Tetsui, that right after the uprising started searching for Gyousou's whereabouts in the vicinity of Mt. Kan'you after the attack on him and the cave-in that happened not long after the incident. And as gathering so much people would have only encourage unwanted suspicion, they went to Sekirin for help and under the guise continued their investigation. And it still continues as Tetsui citizens will never forget or abandon their savior. Unfortunately they haven't found any trace. To that Risai answer that if Gyousou knew, he would be grateful for the effort itself. On they way back to their base, the group discusses the need to move somewhere else, as they already have too many suspicions eyes looking their way. Risai takes Hi'en and flies to the city of Sokou, where Kyuusan resides. When there she asks him for help and he agrees to provide them a new safehouse in Seisai where no one will bother them. As they prepare to leave Rin'u, Kiitsu unexpectedly visits them. The frail woman accompanying him turns out to be the reason why the local Temple wasn't so eager to help them. Just around the time of Gyousou's disappearance woman was one of the refugees illegally going in and out of the Kan'you mine and one day witnessed something she and her friends weren't suppose to see. Sometime before the attack on the king the unknown soldiers had brought two suspiciously looking and gigantic wooden boxes into the mine. And the things inside were moving and causing the soldiers some distress. Not long after that the cave-in happened. The cave-in preceded by something that sounded like an unearthly howl of some kind of beast. Then some of the surviving soldiers came out running and saw the refugees. The unwanted witnesses had to be dealt with and the woman was the only survivor... When Kiitsu takes the woman back to the hiding place, Risai and Seishi shadows them as it seems that the men that followed the group back from Houyou's mansion still haven't left. They corner the men and after some questioning learned that Risai and her companions where suspected of trafficking the refugees since it's happening all over the province. People are being taken to the city capital by force to increase the number of the soldiers in the capital. And as they get no real training they are meant to be a cannon fodder during the eventual war. When they finally talks things through the men ask for some time to contact Houyou and promise to go back. *** In the meantime the capital city of Kouki is the witness to the personal tragedy of newly appointed Shison who no matter how hard he tries, can't seem to please kirin he's supposed to care for. For Taiki does not appreciate any of his gifts and stops any kind of Shison's initiative to make Saiho's mansion more livable place… As annoying as the whole situation is, Taiki can't just shut him out since it would probably result is Shison wailing and prostrating himself in front of the main gate. But even this whole performance can't distract Taiki from his plans to sneak out again. This time to investigate the heavily-guarded place around the gate leading to the eastern part of the Inner Palace. As they finish discussing their plan and go back to the mansion they're met with very displeased and agitated Juntatsu who begs Taiki to give him any kind of explanation, since he's not very keen on getting punished for the things he has no knowledge about. And with Heichuu and Shouwa mysteriously disappearing he's just too afraid and confused. As Taiki hesitates Yari assures him that it's ok to trust Juntasu as she got rid of every jisen in the mansion. Then they learn the truth about the beast's effect on people and how Yari suspects that even if Asen somehow got his hands on them, he couldn't and still can't fully control them and that results with random people becoming puppets and to hide this fact, Asen just has no other way but to make them his direct subordinates. Such a great number of infected people clustered in one place also results in the appearance of the miasma that pulls in even more beasts. And so the situation is gradually becoming worse and worse. As Yari and Kouryou leave Taiki for the meantime, they talk about the whole situation and how it's impossible to bring back some of the already infected people. The girl also explains that it was most probably Rousan who helped Asen, as she, just like Yari herself, comes form the tribe of people living out there in the Yellow Sea and undoubtedly knows a big deal about youma and their habits. Yari also makes Kouryou aware that the morality of the people living in the wasteland of Mt. Hou is so much different than that of normal kingdom's subject. Meaning they feel no special kind of obligation or loyalty toward king or their kirin and Yari herself decided to serve Taiki because she thought him interesting enough to follow. And so once again Taiki and his guards leave the mansion under the cover of the night, this time using the system of underground tunnels which Yari knows pretty well. On the way to the eastern palace the three of them get their hand on some weapons, as it is certain that they will meet some guards. As Yari and Kouryou engage in battle with the soldiers Taiki is force to seek the place alone and finally comes upon the prison cells and one of turns of to hold kirin's long-lost governess, Seirai, who was charged with stealing country registers and consequently imprisoned and tortured for information. But the cell is closed and there is no key in sight. Taiki spies the guard probably holding it and desperately tries to convince himself that he will be able to kill if necessary. He already did… Even if it was him just desperately trying to find his place in that other world, for there was that one and only person who made him feel safe and welcomed… He's also different than any other kirin and was never truly conditioned to abhor violence and blood like the others of his kind. After all, kirins do kill, just not by themselves. They use their servant beast to protect themselves or others close to them and the same time avoid dirtying their own hands. Nonetheless, it's still a murder. So killing someone directly shouldn't be that much different, in the first place… As Taiki proceeds with his plan and almost finishes of the guard, Kouryou and Yari come to his aid and he's spared from having to do the killing, but at the same time Kouryou criticizes him for hesitating, because the man would have died anyway, as he failed to stop the intruders and that usually means getting executed. And while freak-out Taiki tries to process it all, they have no time to spare, therefore he has to go see the prisoner. Then he's literally brought to tears when he sees the state Seirai is in. But malnourished, dirty and repeatedly tortured woman is strong and her spirit has not been broken. She's so happy to see her lord all grown up and well… She's also eager to share the information she possesses. Information which Asen's interrogators haven't been able to get out of her for the last seven years. She urges them to send someone to Ba Province, as that's where General Eishou's retainers hide. Taiki's desperate to get her out but Seirai understands that it's not possible, because if they did, Asen would know it was them. So Kouryou and Yari have no choice but drag their grieving charge back the way they came from. But as they make their escape, it occurs to them that if someone is suppose to get out of the Palace it has to be now, because later there'll probably be no way out. As Yari assures Kouryou that she will take care of Taiki, the man himself hesitates but his master urges him to go as it is the easiest way to actually get to contact Eishou with Kouryou being one of his former officers. So Kouryou leaves them and makes his way to Ganchou who'll help him get out of Kouki. Meanwhile Taiki and Yari go back safely to the mansion and the girl's wondering how the whole situation will turn out as they most certainly be questioned about tonight's happenings and the only person to save them from direct accusations is Taiki himself. Next day around noon, they are visited by Keitou and the one accompanying him is Shukuyou - the Minister of Summer. As they politely make their enquiries, Taiki calmly answers, that yes, he's aware of his guard disappearing and was just commence a search as lately Kouryou seemed quiet unwell and as Heichuu and Shouwa went and disappeared, Taiki suspects that the same thing must have happened to Kouryou and is really worried about him. After obtaining no useful information, Keitou and Shukuyou are readying to leave, when suddenly Asen shows up after clearly having taken a walk along the secret passage hidden in the gardens. Taiki calmly welcomes his king and urges him to take a seat and while at first they talk rather normally, Asen finally snaps. He grabs kirin and brutally throws him to the floor demanding Taiki to pledge himself to the King here and now. When Juntatsu tries to intervene he's stopped and as Keitou move in front of him to defend the servant from Asen's wrath, Taiki simply bows and swears an oath to his New King… And then kirin is swallowed by darkness. It hurts, hurts so much. Like his head is about explode. But he can make it. He has to, for so many were suffering when he killed them and he has no right to complain. No, it doesn't hurt at all… As the pain finally stops and Asen's leaving, Juntatsu kneeling over Taiki notices the blood in kirin's eyes. And still, it’s nothing, for his body was made by the Heaven itself and really, it doesn't hurt at all. As Gogetsu and Boushuku were lately transferred to guard the entrance to Taiki's mansion, they are equally confused as they are happy when they see Asen coming out. Especially the latter as that's the first time he actually sees his Kings with he own eyes. Gogetsu goes to escort his liege back to the Inner Palace and has a short conversation with him, during which he notices that Asen seems strangely dazed and clearly disturbed by something… After Asen goes back to his quarters, Rousan invited herself to accompany him and together they talk about what happened. The minister is surprised and somehow disappointed that Heaven actually seems to approve of Asen, but at the same time she doesn't hide her displeasure about Asen actually flying into rage after someone uncovered his shameful secret. The secret being imprisoned Seirai, who still successfully resists Asen's interrogations. So frustrated and furious Asen had to take it out on somebody and found his target in Taiki. Strangely enough it doesn't make Asen like Rousan any less, as she's the only honest person around and he really appreciates that. Thinking back Asen wonders about how his initial plan failed. How even if he never planned to kill Gyousou in the first place, how actually close it came to it, when the man entrusted with the mission to imprison the king went one step too far. How for all this time Asen's had no idea about what's was about to happen. Because he had to separate the king from his kirin and with Taiki by his side, horn sealed and unable to locate Gyousou, he was supposed get the support of the ministers. But Gyousou had disappeared somewhere below the pile of stones and Taiki was swept by meishoku to the other world… How close it came to utter failure… Fortunately for Asen both Gyousou and Taiki somehow made it and where nowhere to be found. But it still didn't give Asen the sense of peace he'd longed for. There was no escape from Gyousou as he became the shadow sitting on the throne of the rightful king. He had to go and make it so all of the evidence of Gyousou's existence were destroyed. So he mercilessly hunted down the king's supporters… And still it didn't make him feel good enough… As Asen bitterly laughs and points out that Gyousou would laughed, if he was here, Rousan says that Asen's wrong and that Gyousou was aware of him this whole time and never ignored him. For they are really much alike, both Asen and Gyousou. It's just that even long before Gyousou ascended to the throne, Asen had already lost himself in the pursuit of glory while serving the former king. And Gyousou never did… *** After a few days of no word, Risai and her companions suddenly get the message from Houyou, who's inviting them to her villa in the city of Hakurou. When they get there they discover that indeed, the Fu family, for quiet some time, has been gathering not only vagrants and refugees but also deserters from Gyousou's army. She was also getting ready for the inevitable fight and has produced a great amount of weapons of all kind. Along with flying beast and provisions to feed the small army she's been housing in her villas all around the country. She also explains that with the province's leader affected by the strange malady, it's been fairly easy to get away with so many things as long as one did nothing openly suspicious. Houyou also arranges for Risai to meet the official from the Ministry of Winter responsible for covering Houyou's tracks. Tonkou turns out to be even older that Risai suspected as he's been in his office long before since the formed king ascended and and has a great deal of knowledge about the happenings inside the provincial offices. He also emphasizes that with a person of the sufficient rank (meaning someone like Risai) it could be more that possible to lay a siege to the castle and actually take control of it. And if only Gyousou was there, gathering even more people and marching toward the capital, would be even more possible. But as he's not here, everything is still ready. They just need some to take the lead. Risai politely declines the offer, explaining that she wants to focus on finding their king and Houyou answers that they'll gladly wait. *** In the meantime the New Year came and went and as before no celebration took place, Chouun expects everything to go as planned. For he's sure that this time he'll actually be able to Ministers to agree to restrict Taiki's movement even more. To his surprise he finds the Throne Room already occupied and Asen sitting on the throne with Saiho by his side. Asen then proceeds to announce his incoming enthronement, criticizes the work of the court and demanding immediate improvements. Back in his office Chouun rages and makes a plan to make the others work for him, as he's not to blame of any of the mistakes made and Ansaku agrees, while privately commenting on his incompetence. Not long after that Boushuku is forced to let uninvited guest into Taiki's quarters and is calmly assured by Gogetsu that Ganchou is the most welcomed, which seems to be confirmed by Taiki's reaction. For kirin clearly moved and close to tears as he kneels beside his retainer even going as far as laying his head on Ganchou's shoulder. That unexpected display of affection shocks Boushuku as he's never suspect kirin to be so humane. And just a second later Taiki appoints Ganchou as his new bodyguard. Then he invites the former general to his mansion and they have a long conversation about Ganchou having no choice but stay at the court when the ones close to him were taken hostage, about being demoted and being looked down upon while living in the small quarters and taking care of Gyousou mount, Keito, being his only purpose… Fortunately his retainers were spared the same fate. Ones like Santou who was taken in by Hinken and appropriately looked after by him and Kisen. Santou himself being glad and thanking Heaven for making it possible for Ganchou to take his new post at Taiki's side. *** At the same time Risai and her companions with the addition of Sekirin priest, Sodou, brainstorm about possible routes Gyousou could have taken while escaping Mt. Kan'you. Finally they settle on going north, even if Gyousou taking the difficult and extremely dangerous and pilgrim trail seems very unlikely. As Risai along with Kyoshi, Seishi and Sodou leave for Mt. Takuou, Houto and Yotaku make further preparations for the move to the city of Seisai. The infamous trail turns out to be even more dangerous and exhausting than Risai expected but they finally arrive at Koutaku and along the way they find the evidence of soldiers coming through. As they make their way through the crowded city Risai is unexpectedly approached by a few men and recognizes one as Kiro from Sougen's corps. It turns out that a few years ago the general and his men made it to the local temple and are hiding there to this day. As a big religious centre, the city of Koutaku, turned out to be a good hideout as, the influence of the priests is bigger than the kingdom officials'. As Risai is reunited with her friends they talk about everything that's happened to this day and to her dismay she discovers that for all these years Sougen's people have searched for Gyousou and found nothing. Suddenly though Risai thinks what if their King never made it out of the bowels of Mt. Kan'you? What if he's still there? And as they discuss the possibilities they come to conclusion that it's almost certain that Gyousou's still there. For there is one youma big enough to fit into that secret wooden box and one that has the power to move the earth itself with its howls and it's called ririku… So, the preparations begin. They have to gather enough people and get rebels to help them dig through all the rubble to may a way and possibly locate Gyousou. *** For his part, Asen always knew that something could go wrong when he chose the scum like Ukou, to do the job. But as the man was vile and cruel, he was also extremely efficient. Asen was also terrified of the possibility of his men rejecting his plans. Was terrified of becoming even bigger failure than he already was. So he planned the whole thing himself and with the help of Rousan got his hand on the pair of boar-like ririku powerful enough to cause the cave-in. Unfortunately they was no way to test their abilities and the dying scream of the beasts turned out to be too much, for all the things Asen was planning. Yes, he wanted to imprison Gyousou in the bowels of Mt. Kan'you but with the way to actually to oversee the entire situation. But the cave-in had much bigger scale than he wanted and Gyousou fell into the abyss… Even after losing more than half of his men Ukou came back with the disgusting smile on his face, fiercely proud of almost finishing Gyousou off and getting the job 'well done'. For all this time Asen's live in fear of not knowing anything and expecting every day to be Gyousou's last. With time he cut himself off from his retainers and withdrew from politics holing up in the Inner Palace. Now he wonders if this has been Gyousou revenge, all along… *** Somewhere in the Bun Province there's abandoned village with only one family still living in their old home. Once a month the man takes his little daughter to the riverbank and together they make a small offering of the basket filled with little things. An offering for the dead. The girl doesn't understand as they already have almost nothing to eat and with her sister starving to death not even two months ago… Still the girl is somehow happy because, her father resuming the tradition of monthly offerings means that he's getting better. Even if just a little bit. The man apologizes to his daughter for his selfishness and tries to explain that it's all for the person who long, long time ago made sure that the citizens of certain city survived their king's wrath. For the descendants of those people never forgot about Gyousou's part in saving the city of Tetsui… And as the basket full of offering drifts right into the dark caves of Mt. Kan'you man has no idea that his gifts are being delivered to the right person. *** Gyousou himself made some unforgivable mistakes… He'd known that he'd most likely get into the trap, but he couldn't ignore the possibility that runaway chief of Tetsui really needed his help. He also thought that it might be his chance to get the actual prove that Asen was planning something, because he obviously couldn't get rid of the man basing on his suspicions alone. Unfortunately he gravely overestimated his own abilities while underestimating the opponents who almost got him killed. Never before had he felt so powerless and desperate. Then there was a cave-in and long days of total darkness. At first he wasn't able to even feel his limbs wondering if one or two or all of them were gone. Then came the pain and the with it the knowledge. His arms survived the fall almost intact but both of his legs were broken. Fortunately there was no one to hear his screams when he had to set his bones. When he was finally able to move he begin to explore the cave and while he found some things necessary to survive a few tunnels and there was a flowing water nearby, he couldn't find any way out. And he knew he must had fallen really deep since somewhere above his head was the hole that let light and rain in. But it was so far away. Despite all that he never gave in to fear and despair as he was the King. He simply couldn’t. There were also a little things that gave him strength to go on. Like an occasional food offerings that made it possible for him to survive al those years. There was also one big and clear sign that he still had the Heaven's blessing. For one day he found a single youma in these depths. And for all the time spent in the wasteland of the Yellow Sea, he does know how to catch a suugu. *** One day officer Yuushou is summoned in front of the King and entrusted with the mission to bring back the fallen one. After hearing that order and seeing Ukou, responsible for all this mess, Yuushou can't help feeling betrayed by his liege. On one hand he know that if any of the retainers had known at that time about their master's plan they would have tried to stop. On the other hand Yuushou wished that Asen had more faith in them and gave them that forbidden order instead of giving it to the vile man like Ukou. Still, he has no way but to prepare and go to Mt. Kan'you. Not long after, agitated Keitou arrives at Taiki's mansion and begs kirin to release him from his duties. Surprised Taiki says that he force the man to stay, but he at least want to know the reason for this sudden decision. As Keitou breaks down he says that he can't no longer serve the man like Asen. That getting away from his lord, made him see how he fooled himself and tried to convince himself that there must have been some good reason for Asen to actually get rid of Gyousou, as Keitou himself had nothing against him. And as the situation has become clear he can't just stay here and work for the usurper. Taiki for moment hesitates but then calmly explains that Asen's not the king and that's why he'll need Keitou assistance when the time comes. Meanwhile Ansaku is quietly observing as his superior still deludes himself that nothing is his fault and that he actually can get Taiki's forgiveness for going against him so many times. Because as the situation stands, after Asen coming back to politics and giving direct orders more and more courtiers started to come to Saiho's side as he finally was able to actively start helping the struggling citizens by opening provincial storages and giving the refugees to earn some money by helping with the rebuilding of the city. And so the little bit of sunlight actually reached the Kingdom of Tai through the dense winter clouds… BACK

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Level 9

Can you believe we’re almost all the way through January? One more day left and we’ll be a full month into 2020. How’s it feel gang? We all doing okay?

Tagging: @loudartanimeeclipse​

Master List here or search Ikesen AFK tag

Warnings: None

Happy Reading, T~

Level 9

You were here, it was nine, and you were starting to get annoyed. Had you been played? Were you about to be ambushed? Jumped? Hacked? As your mind raced nearly a thousand pop up windows flooded your chat screen as you were thrown into a brand new group chat, this one titled “Team Azuchi.” Interesting. 

4myLord → Seriously, though, how do you not know where they are? You just met her last night. This is horribly rude.

OneEyedDrag0n → Nope, see? I remembered her username! She’s in the group chat! @WildCyt0m3try you are in the group chat right. /;3;/ Please tell me you’re in the group chat!

Present, though, I’m not super sure where you are? You said 9 sharp but never specified where... ← WildCyt0m3try

Betrayal_is_real04  → He’s as helpful as ever I see. 

Your answer was equally unhelpful… ( - . - )  ← WildCyt0m3try

D3vilK1ng  → I like her @OneEyedDrag0n, she’s got spunk. 

OneEyedDrag0n  → Right! Almost beat me in that tournament too! 

EdoPorcupine5661 → Oh? No surprise there. 

OneEyedDrag0n → Hey! I resent that statement 

Betrayal_is_real04 → You resent most of his statements. 

EdoPorcupine5661 → Is everyone here now? Except for @WildCyt0m3try? 

4myLord → No. We’re missing @B00kOfLife7. You can find us near the South gate @WildCyt0m3try. 

Thx! I see you now! ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → Does it matter? Can we start without him? He’s probably reading and forgot we were supposed to meet. 

4myLord → We cannot!

B00kOfLife7 → We cannot what? 

EdoPorcupine5661 → Nevermind… 

D3vilK1ing → Glad you could join us, shall we head out now that everyone’s gathered?

In a matter of moments, your screen warped, and your character and her new teammates were whisked off towards the southern dessert. Excitement bubbled up inside of you, this was your chance to shine. Sure, you barely knew these people, but if they fought anything like OneEyedDrag0n had, you didn’t want to look incompetent. Fortunately, the battle conditions were a perfect way to showcase your stats. 

The dessert terrain made it nearly impossible for anyone on foot to move, and cavalry or armored units had almost no chance at advancing more than a single space at a time. You, on the other hand, were a flier, meaning terrain that diminished that particular stat didn’t apply to you. Giving you the range to quickly traverse the battlefield and assist your allies. Which is precisely what you planned to do. 

Everyone had spawned in one of two groups; truly, the game seemed to be out to get you. Both of the warlocks had been pushed together in the back corner of the map with the sniper. Everyone else in your party was in the top corner with you. Meaning all of your long-range fighters were too far away to provide any sort of backup to the poor guy on a horse and your swords.

So...this is unfortunate ← WildCyt0m3try

OneEyedDrag0n → We’ve honestly gotten worse, this ain't too bad 

You’ve got to be kidding ← WildCyt0m3try

4myLord → We wish. We’ll have time for that story later. @B00kOfLife got a plan yet? 

B00kOfLife → @D3vilK1ng and @Betrayal_is_real04, please proceed towards the center of the field to become the central targets. 

B00kOfLife → @EdoPorcupine5661 and I will cover the exit point down here to the south so bandits cannot escape. 

B00kOfLife → @OneEyedDrag0n, please do your best to cover @4myLord since he doesn’t have a large range of movement. Fend off enemies as you make your way toward the center of the field. 

B00kOfLife → @WildCyt0m3try, please make quick work of the chests around the field then chase down any enemies that attempt to flee. You are quite capable of fending them off on your own, I presume?

Everything but archers, though, I’m usually good with dodging, and I’ve got plenty of herbs on standby jic. ← WildCyt0m3try

B00kOfLife ← Wonderful. Message if something should go wrong. Good luck. 

With the plan out, the chat went silent. This was nothing like your other team, no microphones were used for in battle communication, not a single word was typed unless something was direly wrong. You had been provided exactly 3 chest keys to do your job, but you knew that at least three of these bandits had keys of their own, so you shouldn’t have to dip into your stock unless someone called you for backup. 

Just as OneEyedDrag0n had stated last night, everyone here was a capable fighter. The plan was being executed beautifully, and you marveled at how the CPU’s seemed to go down one after the other. It was like the computer wasn’t even paying attention to the stats anymore. Why would you go after an enemy that you only had a 16% chance of doing 4 damage to when they had a 98% chance of doing 36 damage twice? It didn’t make any sense. You'd take what you were given, though. 

In half an hour, all of the chests were successfully looted, the enemy had been routed, and EdoPorcupine5661 was named the MVP. You’d never seen that before, granted you hadn’t been playing that long, but it was rare for a bowed unit to take accolades like that. Being a ranged unit seemed to have its perks on terrane like this, you supposed. Prize money was divided, and the weapons and armor were awarded based on participation and usability. It didn’t make much sense to give something to someone who couldn’t make use of it. After thanking them for letting you play with them, you were about to log off and head to bed when you got a private message. 

EdoPorcupine5661 → OneEyedDrag0n said you were in the market for a bow. 

I am. Not sure where I’d find one this late in my game, though, sort of hard to reclass and start over.  ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → You fought well, and you aren’t completely annoying, so here, it was part of my loot today. 

Are you sure? That’s a really nice bow! ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → It is, which is why you’d be stupid not to take it. I’ve already got one. So here. 

Thanks! UwU You’re the best! Now I’ve just got to get the skill up so I can use it! ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → If you’re free tomorrow at 5, I can meet you for some quick tips. Don’t need you shooting yours or anyone else’s eye out. 

Is that what happened to OneEyedDrag0n? Training accident lol? ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → No. It wasn’t an accident.

Omfg, you didn’t xD ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → I didn’t, but it’s always fun to imagine. 

So 5 tomorrow? ← WildCyt0m3try I should be down for that as long as I get off work on time. ← WildCyt0m3try   Are you going to give me any hints about where to meet you, or is that part of this team’s quirks? ← WildCyt0m3try Make the newbie guess where you’re meeting? ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → You know, I was going to tell you, but I’m not feeling quite as generous anymore. 

Noooo! Please! I don’t like wandering around like a lost CPU! Someone tried to buy stuff from me today, you know! ← WildCyt0m3try That’s how idle I looked waiting for you goons lol ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → Maybe you should evaluate the face your character is making? It’s not my fault you look like someone who sells cheap spears. 

I would not sell cheap spears! Only the highest quality merchandise is sold here! ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → Whatever you say. 

I’m glad you’ve come to your senses and decided to agree with me.  ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → Sure, we’ll go with that. 

Okay, well, thanks for the bow. I’ll see you tomorrow around 5. I’ve decided I actually need to get some sleep tonight! Work has been a H A U L lately. ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → You don’t need to explain yourself to me. Just go to bed, weirdo. 

Roger that, weirdo. ← WildCyt0m3try

EdoPorcupine5661 → That wasn’t a compliment. 

Sure it was. Laters~ ← WildCyt0m3try

You smiled as you shut down the console and powered off your television, that had been fun. It was so different from your other team's dynamic, but it added something different to the experience beyond solo playing. Besides, you had totally just scored a kick-ass bow, and a training date tomorrow. You couldn’t wait; if you kept going at this pace, you were sure it’d be enough to push your team to the winning slot next tournament! Real-life prize money here you came!

[knowingoverseer]

Just a little further.

It took a while for Oz and Elsa to catch up, they had followed both the sound of the crash as well as the drops of glowing blue blood-like liquid the robotic bird had been leaking. When they finally found you, you were alone.

It had been obvious enough to attempt to pick up the Axe the bird had turned into, but what you hadn't been expecting was for the thing to disappear from your hands and into your inventory. After all, your sylledex wasn’t even accessible to you at the moment, nor your strifedex. But, hell, it wasn’t like it ended up there either? You still could look at the cards, after all, even if nothing could be removed or put in. So? Where did it go? Captchaloging it had been a mistake on your part, so use to not needing to worry about that sort of thing. Though.... this had happened before on your journey. With first aid kits, old energy drinks you’d picked up, as well as a gun you’d pulled off some dick back in the UK. And without knowing where they went, exactly, you couldn’t remove those either. So..... hoo. Hopefully having the bird’s weaponized corpse hidden somewhere in your stuff wasn’t going to turn around and bite you in the ass. --- Half an hour and a trip over a small river later the three of you had trecked over to the town you’d came into the clearing of. It had taken a bit more swordplay to get past the Darkballs that seemed to have taken over the area, they were much stronger than the Shadows and Solders you were use to facing inward toward London and the northern UK. You weren't sure what that meant about the area, but as soon as you got yourself and pokemon inside a sturdy building you put up your Void Spell to keep the wondering Heartless from getting inside. Hoo. God, you still can’t believe all the damn Heartless you’ve been running into! Like, sure, this word has been chock full of bullshit that was previously fictional to you so far but like!!!! HELL! Still, it could have been worse. Out on the mountain you’d been running into Wyverns and those motherfuckers were not fun to deal with at all!!! You settle in, removing your armor back into the star on your sword, then move to take the leather armor off Oz. The scratch wound on his arm is pretty deep, thankfully the nick on Elsa wasn’t so bad. You get out your backpack you had stored on the leather armor and rummage around till you find water and cloth bandages. For now, it’s all you could really do to help him.  Maybe.... maybe this was your fault. You were the one who decided it was a good idea to keep moving up toward Loch Ness instead of sticking around any one of the radio towers you’d been sending distress signals up through your travels. You’d been the one who decided it was a good idea to go up and over the damn mountain instead of around it, and maybe you’d have found better shelter way sooner if you had. Not to mention the bird itself had seemed to be gunning for you, probably pissed off you kept kicking it’s ass or.... Maybe it was after your shard? God, it didn’t matter. You take a deep breath and sigh, putting pressure on the wound as you wrapped bandages around Oz’s upper arm. Hoo.... you really thought you’d have been there by now, though. You thought you were finally making good time when you’d crossed the border into Scotland. But hooboy, you were really horrible with directions. And somehow ended up in some huge national park, it seemed. Which, really wasn’t the worst, except it had been HUGE, huge enough to hold an entire mountain. But also huge enough to hold all sorts of touristy spots too. It had been enticing to go through, but sure enough you’d just gotten lost for days, hell you think weeks at this point? Maybe? Maybe a week and a half. And that damn bird had been driving you fucking batty. Sure, you were afraid of robots, but you can only be tailed for so long before terror turns to annoyance. Heck, you had even thought it stopped trying to attack you and just follow you around instead up until you set up camp earlier tonight and the damn thing had come out of the woods trying to swoop down and grab at you. But- that was no longer here nor there, you weren't going to let yourself think too much on that now. There had been an increase in Heartless spawns too while you’d been venturing through. You’re not really sure why there were so many more now that you’d actually gotten into Scotland, and to be frank you weren't that keen on finding out. You’re just glad your blade is magic, because you’re not really sure if you’d be able to fend them off half as well as you had been otherwise. Similarly, you’re surprised at the lack of what else you’d been seeing. After all, the UK area had been chock full of oddities, and normal shit for this timeline like Raptors and other small dinosaurs. Now you were lucky to see a Raptor running around, you guess Heartless were fine going after even a dinosaur’s heart.... which made you worry all the more for your pokemon. You let Oz and Elsa rest, pouring out more water for the both of them and feeding them as well. Now you were on the hunt for anything usable. You were holed up in an abandoned Subway it seemed. The restaurant, not an actual Subway. The food was long since spoiled, and the soda machine’s contents were likely not in the best conditions either. Heading to the front of the store, summoning your armor back on, and head out. The void spell would hold till you got back, so your pokemon where safe. The town you found yourself in was rather cute, if not for the sense of dread you got from any abandoned town you came across. There was a train track running through it. There was also a super market called Tesco Metro just down the street from where you took refuge in, and you’d hit that up for all it had in a moment. For now, you were going to keep poking around. The town you were in, you found, was called Aviemore, judging by the train station next door. You quietly snuck over there, trying to avoid any Darkballs (or Wizards as you were starting to notice) if you could help it. What you were after were travel brochures, cause those were generally the only means you had to a map. Sure enough you hit the jackpot. Spreading out two separate maps, one of Cairngorms National Park, and another specifically advertising the Loch Ness and it’s surrounding towns, you were able to surmise you were actually pretty close! All things considered, you could even get there in a day if you could actually keep track of where you were going. Or.... maybe a bit more than a day, Oz was hurt after all. And you were really really bad at following maps. You fold them both back up and tuck them away into your armor, heading back out and over to that supermarket. Sure it’s been looted already, but couldn’t hurt to loot it a little more.

[welcometophu]

Into the Split: Havenhill 7

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Havenhill 7

[ Previous | First | Next ]

It takes a couple of days to get the two houses ready for occupants. The remains of Monday and the entirety of Tuesday are spent cleaning both houses from top to bottom. They remove the personal belongings of the Benford family, while ensuring that most of the furniture is in usable conditions. Tables and couches are kept, but beds are replaced with ones that smell fresh and are suitable for the number of occupants. Alia requests that the houses be placed back on their tiny electrical grid, and by late Tuesday night the lights are on and refrigerators hum. The water runs dark at first, but once they let it go for an hour, it’s hot and clear, the pump functioning perfectly to pull water up from the well.

On Wednesday they bring over fresh linens from the main house, then go into town to trade services for goods so that they can have food. They need to be out of the houses while the Mages of Havenhill take care of the cleansing ritual.

While in town, they stop at the school, and Nikolai finds a potential place to fit in within Havenhill. He and Seth agree to tutor a group of teenagers in survivalist skills, and in return those teens will work as a group to teach them the basic history, math, and science that they’ve missed during their years on the road. Seth finds the school library and stuffs his backpack full of books to borrow.

Alaric proves popular with the younger children, letting them climb on his hound’s back, giving them rides around the playground. Mac sits on a bench, quietly grinning as she watches. “He’s so gruff,” she says, “but so good with kids. I’ve seen it before, but every time it makes me smile.”

“It seems like he’s the one with the most to offer here,” Nikolai replies. He feels so inadequate, without any real skills to help keep Havenhill going. Maybe someday, after they’ve learned how to fit in. Maybe they’ll be able to do more than teach survival skills then.

“He grew up here, but in our own world.” Mac pulls her feet up, sits cross-legged. “He was raised to live like this, in an independent society that was halfway to cut off from the world. It wasn’t nearly as big, and they did still have access to stores and they went out into the world for education. But in the end, they all came back and lived in their own little commune. It worked for them. So Alaric fits in because this is what he always thought he’d be doing.”

“It’s easy for him.” Nikolai envies that, in a way. It seems like Alaric was raised in a way that was ready for the calamity of the Split. He wonders if Alaric’s mother is more like Alia than Alia realizes. If she’s preparing for something there that has already happened here.

Mac nods at his words. “It’s harder for all of the rest of us, not just you. We all have to shift our paradigm in some way. For us, it’s realizing that we might be stuck here, and that we can’t just go out and get jobs like we thought we would when we finished college. There’s no government, no big engineering firms, no hospitals. This place is not like we remember. And for you, it’s moving away from running and finding a way to live again.” She smiles slightly. “For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’ve found a home. Nikita’s been a wreck worrying about you ever since she started remembering the dreams. I’m glad we came to save you.”

“Even if it means never getting home again?”

Mac makes a face, drawing her knees up to hug them tight to her chest. “I’m still coming to terms with that part, and I can admit that I’m not entirely sure I’m thrilled trading my life for yours. But I’m not going to say your life isn’t worth it. I was a soldier, once upon a time. I had an entire life built around doing things I didn’t like in order to make sure other people survived.” There’s a darkness in her voice, the way the vowels lengthen and her tone goes soft; Nikolai knows she’s not telling the whole story there.

Still… Nikolai gets it. He knows what it’s like to have his known life suddenly ripped away and not be sure he’d ever get any of it back. He got lucky now. He found Mikhail and Josef, and he thinks he’s on his way to finding his happy ending. “You’ll get home,” he says firmly. She has to believe that, just like Nikolai’s held to the belief that Havenhill exists for all these years.

“Mm.” Mac slowly relaxes, letting her knees fall back down. She leans back, hands behind her head, still watching Alaric and the kids. “If you had the chance to come with us when we leave, would you?”

No.

Yes.

Maybe.

“I think it would depend on a lot of things,” Nikolai says slowly. He doesn’t want to give a gut instinct answer, because he assumes that the question isn’t just idle curiosity. “If Seth would come with me. If I’d have a way back. If you needed me there, or if it’s just Nikita trying to save me again, because in the end, this is my home. It would feel wrong to just abandon it. I might not know exactly what to do with my life yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Mm,” is all Mac says in reply, which doesn’t help.

“Nikolai!”

He turns at Nikita’s shout. He leaves one hand outstretched, and Mac takes it, coming to her feet easily beside him. Nearby, Alaric returns to human form and the kids rush off towards the school. “What?”

Nikita runs to meet him, her gait uneven but her ankle mostly recovered from the injury now, thanks to Genevieve’s healing. Heather and Carolyn trail behind her at a brisk walk. “Marybelle radioed to say they’re done with the cleansing rituals.” She raises the small radio to illustrate, tucking it back into a pocket after. “She said Alia and Val are waiting for us at the houses, along with Pawel. We want to try something, and we need you and Seth.”

“Do I even want to know what we’re doing?” Mac asks dryly. She fishes a bandana from her pocket, ties it around her curls to pull them back from her face. “Because after the last time—”

“Exactly. After the last time.” Nikita leans back into Heather’s touch, gestures between herself and Nikolai. “I think we need both of us involved in a ritual to get us back.”

Mac glances at Nikolai; he realizes that this is what she suspected was coming. He knew Nikita wanted to do it, he just wasn’t expecting it right now.

“What if I don’t want to go with you,” he says slowly and it’s not a question. He’s not ready to say yes to that; there are too many factors to make that decision right now.

“We’re not actually planning on going anywhere today.” Nikita swipes that thought away with a flick of her fingers. “We just want to try a ritual to see if we could get through. Alaric won’t be there, so we can’t go through without him, anyway.”

“It’s not like we meant to go through last time,” Alaric mutters. “You didn’t even plan a ritual last time, because if you had, I wouldn’t have been there.”

“Huh? Oh.” Nikita sags towards Heather. “I think that had more to do with me and Del.”

“And you think you can get back without Del?”

There’s a small pause before Nikita stands a little taller, hands on her hips as she disengages from Heather’s hold. Despite being as tall as Nikolai, she still seems small next to Alaric. “I think we have to at least try. I mean, I figured—don’t you miss Chris?”

Alaric takes a step back, and for a moment it looks as if he’s been struck. His gaze drops, and he growls low under his breath. “Meet you at the cars,” he mutters.

“That was rude,” Mac says.

“I didn’t mean—they’re… whatever it is they are.” Nikita turns to watch Alaric walk away, her hands spread in apology. “I’m sorry!” she calls after him. Alaric doesn’t respond as he shifts into the hound and lopes away.

Nikolai is positive he missed something. He’s not sure it’s worth asking what.

Besides, he’s far more worried about this ritual that Nikita is proposing. “Why do you think you need me involved for your ritual? You got here without my help.”

“We had Del,” Carolyn says. “Who isn’t exactly a Dreamwalker, but she’s… something. Several of us are something, which is what’s so complicated. I’ve been doing research on how different traveling Talents could be linked—Teleporters like Mac and Dreamwalkers like you seem to be at opposite ends of a spectrum, and then strange intermediary Talents like me, Del, and Nikita fall between those two poles. Even the Shadows might be linked.”

“That clears up nothing,” Nikolai admits. These people are so intertwined socially that they seem to keep assuming he’s one of them, just because he’s been on the other side of Nikita’s dreams. And while they all seem familiar, in that dreamlike way, he doesn’t actually know them. Or have any idea what Carolyn’s talking about.

“What’s wrong?” Seth’s calm is a familiar wash over his skin, his touch something that Nikolai can relax into as Seth places his hand against the small of Nikolai’s back.

“I’m so confused that I don’t even know if I can explain.” Nikolai glances at where the cars are parked, where Alaric’s hound lies in the sun, one paw over his nose. The back of two cars are open, while Mikhail, Amaranth, and Josef load crates into them. “How did it go getting food?”

“With your family to vouch for us, we have staples for both houses, and some fresh foods as well. Plenty of preserves. Last year’s canning and frozen foods come cheaper than current, so we went with that for the most part,” Seth says. He nudges his glasses up his nose. “It’s all better than what we had on the road, and we’ve got plenty of ingredients to be able to make baked goods on our own. Also, Amaranth and Josef picked out a few basic cookbooks so we can learn how to cook for real since that’s something we’ll want to know.”

“The houses are ready for us, cleansed and everything, and Pawel’s waiting for us to get back,” Nikita says. She takes a step toward the cars, pausing when Heather stops her with a hand. She licks her lips, looks at Nikolai. “Maybe we can make better sense of the ritual when we’re there. When all of us can talk.”

“It’s getting complicated and weird,” Nikolai says, trying to forestall Seth’s questions. Seth’s response is a disgruntled noise, but he lets it go until they’re in the Jeep and alone, aside from Mikhail driving.

“Give me the rundown,” Seth orders, so Nikolai does, to the best of his ability. Seth doesn’t seem any less confused than he does. “Do you think there’s a risk to us?” he asks when Nikolai is done.

“I’m not one for traditional ritual, but it sounds to me like there is,” Mikhail says. “I’ll be blunt: I don’t want to lose you.” He pulls up at the new house to park next to the two other cars that went into town, and Val’s van. He turns around before they can get out of the Jeep. “Be careful, Nik,” he says quietly. “And don’t do anything that’s going to call attention to Havenhill. This is a safe place, and I don’t think Val and Alia want to see the wards broken open just because your friends want to get home. That might be something that needs to be done outside the groves.”

Nikolai makes a sound of agreement, because that all sounds valid. The problem is, he can’t speak for the others, and they haven’t listened to logic before now. He’s not sure they’re going to start.

Seth leans over the seat, his shoulder pressed to Nikolai’s. “When do we get to learn to drive?”

“I can come back and take you out late tomorrow morning,” Mikhail offers. “We’ve got a meeting early so that the Weather Witches can look at the patterns that are building and see what we’re needed for this week, but after that I’m free. Josef and Amaranth need the Jeep to ride the borders first thing in the morning anyway. And eventually we’ll need to look at getting you a car; someone in your group needs transportation.”

Seth runs his hand along the back of the seat. “I like your Jeep. It feels… comfortable. It has a good aura.”

“It’s not human.”

Seth rolls his eyes, elbows Nikolai. “I’m not saying it is. But sometimes objects resonate, and this Jeep is old enough that it does.”

“Josef’s always saying it’s got personality,” Mikhail says dryly. “So you might be right. Still. I’ll teach you to drive in the Jeep, but I’m not giving it to you. We’ll find you something of your own eventually.” He points at where Pawel stands in front of the main house, arms crossed, glaring between Alia and Val and the arriving cars. “I think someone’s waiting for you.” A moment’s hesitation, then, “Be careful. I want you be here when I bring the Jeep over tomorrow to teach you to drive.”

“We will.” Nikolai answers with conviction, refusing to think that it could work out differently. He has no plans to leave, and if the ritual is going to risk that, he won’t help.

Mikhail gets out long enough to pull Nikolai in for a rough hug and one more whisper of, “Be careful,” before he heads out, the Jeep rattling down the road.

Ethan and Alaric come out of the main house, and Ethan waves cheerily. “Everyone’s stuff has been put in their respective houses and rooms. Seth, Nikolai—we washed what we could, and replaced what we couldn’t. Alaric’s already agreed to work with our textiles group to pay that off. Everyone needs clothes anyway, since your friends arrived with just the shirts on their backs.”

“It’s too much,” Nikolai says. It’s too generous when they don’t know him, and when he’s done nothing for them yet. They already owe Havenhill so much.

“It’s what we do for all new arrivals,” Alia assures him. “We have been taking in newcomers for a decade, Nikolai. You are welcome, and you will find your place here.”

“Havenhill is a place for strays,” Val adds. “Don’t worry.”

“I don’t want to be here,” Alaric grumbles. He only makes it two steps before he turns back. “Not Havenhill; I’m grateful for that,” he mutters. “Thanks for taking us in. I don’t want to be around for your ritual. It reeks. Don’t know how you can stand it.” He looks at Alia.

She smiles tightly. “You say you are my child in another world. Am I so strict that you are unable to tolerate magic?”

“I tolerate it better than you,” Alaric says curtly. “But your husband hates Mages and he always taught us that we should, too.”

“Luckily her wife here is a Mage, and that probably helps,” Val replies with a grin, twining her fingers with Alia. “You should stay. It took time for Alia to get used to the feel of magic on her skin, and the scent of it, but most Clan here do fine with it now. We’ve become one community.”

“I’m getting used to it. M’best friend back home is a Mage. One of my best friends, anyway,” Alaric grumbles. “But I still don’t like it. It makes my skin itch, like I can feel it crawling all over me when Rory’s designing rituals. So as long as you aren’t leaving without me, I’m not sticking around.”

“This is just a fact-finding ritual,” Pawel says quietly, arms still crossed and stance tight. “No one is going through.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” Alaric points out. “And look where we are.”

“If we do happen to go through, we know how we did it, so we’ll come back for you,” Nikita says quickly. “No one will be left behind.”

Somehow Nikolai doesn’t find that reassuring. There is this assumption that nothing will happen, but at the same time, there is an underlying understanding that it went wrong before, and it could easily go wrong again. He reaches blindly for Seth’s hand, tangles their fingers tightly when he finds him.

“I want all the travelers involved,” Carolyn says. She points to the space in front of her. “That means Nikita, with Heather to anchor her, and Nikolai, with Seth. Me. Mac. Mattie.”

“Sakura and I will hold the wards,” Val says. Nikolai hadn’t even noticed Sakura until Val mentioned her, standing on the edge of the clearing in front of the house. She’s close to the edge of the grove, which, if she’s doing something with the wards, makes sense. Just like on the first day they met, Sakura is dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, with mid-calf boots on her feet, but no jacket. Her feet are spread, her arms loose by her side, and her gaze narrows when she hears her name. She nods once.

“And Jefferson will be out soon,” Val adds.

Nikolai isn’t positive why there’s a Giver of Pain involved, although he can make a guess. Jefferson is probably a failsafe, in case something needs to be violently disrupted.

It doesn’t help the unease he feels about the whole situation.

“Alaric, come with me,” Ethan says, gesturing toward the edge of the grove, past Sakura, where a path leads through the trees. “Let me show you around the grounds some more, so you can see how this place is different from where you grew up. It might help settle the beast under your skin.” He flashes a quick grin. “A little help settling can’t be a bad thing, right? Let’s get you relaxed.”

Ethan tilts his head, and Alaric growls softly at the line of throat exposed.

“Ethan,” Val says quietly, and Ethan shifts his posture back to something more neutral.

“It’s just a walk,” Ethan assures Alaric. “We’ll get you away from the magic, then you can relax. Right?”

Nikolai isn’t sure what Alaric’s more nervous about: the feel of the magic, or the idea that he might be left behind. “No one’s going anywhere,” Nikolai says, his hand tight in Seth’s, just in case that’s the bigger worry. “We need to stay here. We belong here.” He tries to sound confident, despite his own worries.

Alaric huffs, and takes a step back, head ducked. He exhales, then stands up straight, crossing his arms. He makes a noise low in his throat, before dropping to all fours to become the bear and lumbering away.

“I’ve got him,” Ethan says, following quickly after.

“And we’ve got this,” Nikita says cheerfully.

Nikolai isn’t sure, but he doesn’t contradict her. Someone has to believe it’s going to work out the way they need it to.

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[cyabae]

Bedtime Stories Against the World - Day 14

Day 14: Free day! | The Last Day

Words: 1570

This is it, my final drabble for @kakaobiweek2019 ! It’s been so much fun and I’m kinda sad that this is over.. :’) A huge thank you @withyourrhythm for arranging this, these two weeks have been truly blessed. Also, thanks for fellows participants, the fanart has been so amazing and I have loads and loads of nice looking fics to read during the weekend!

Anyway, this is my good bye & good night as well!

>> AO3 <<

Kakashi opens his eyes.

He feels strangely calm. That’s pretty common for people who are about to die. Kakashi has seen his fair share of death, and he’s been ready to face his own for so long. The floating sensation could suggest that it’s already over but there’s also a sense of nausea caused by a number of conditions including hypoxia and the adrenaline wearing off.

At first, the world seems blurry but the Sharingan can see someone’s chakra. It’s nothing like Kakashi has ever seen before. The flow of it is irregular and the composition seems weird as well. There‘s not much of it.

“So, you woke up after all,” a raspy voice says. The source of it is close by.

It takes a while before Kakashi recognizes the speaker. Sure, he’s heard Obito speaking many times whilst dreaming but the sweet delusions have always lacked the bitter tone that’s present now. Memories from the past lifetimes start to come back.

Kakashi has been happy with Obito for centuries, maybe even more.

And there they are, looking into each other’s eyes, acknowledging that they haven’t even had a chance to be friends.

“Is this your punishment?” Kakashi asks. “Letting me live?” he can’t tell how Obito has managed to do it.

That must’ve taken so much chakra.

“No,” Obito replies. His silhouette is getting much clearer now that the worst dizziness has faded away. He has many human features left. Two hands and two feet but also horns and tails. The dark hair has become white. And even though the Earth has become a pretty dim place, Obito’s skin has a cold, pale undertone. It’s very prominent, especially given how it can be noticed in such circumstances.

The only two sources of light are the crimson moon and the sun that has become a red dwarf. Otherwise, the sky is a pitch black, starless void.

Eons are gone by.

It’s the only rational conclusion, yet Kakashi has a hard time to wrap his head around the idea.

“Then why?” he questions, pulling himself up. “Why don’t you just kill me?”

“You never answered my question,” Obito answers. This time his tone isn’t resentful or acrimonious, it’s just tired. “Why can’t she be alive?”

He hasn’t aged a day from the day he transformed into a demigod but the mismatched eyes show weariness. An eternity alone must’ve been such a long, long time.

All life is gone by now. Miles and miles of solid rock is all that’s left. Obito has created a small shelter – a celestial shield – which is the reason why Kakashi can still breathe. He should feel anger but there’s no point in that. Everything’s gone.

There are no easy answers but coming up with one is worth trying. It’s the only action he can take.

“I don’t know,” Kakashi admits. “I really don’t. But I never hoped for such a solution – I had years to come over my losses, and I think I…” he cuts himself short. He’s uncertain how to put his emotions into words.

He has never stopped missing the people he’d lost. Not his father, not Kushina and Minato and not Rin.

However, all of those people have been long gone and Kakashi has accepted it. He’s mourned for them but he’s also found comfort thinking that he’ll be with them in the afterlife if that exists.

Obito has always been different from them. The uncountable years alone have taught him patience which is probably why he doesn’t rush Kakashi.

But Obito isn’t the only one who has questions to ask.

“There were other ways to bring her back,” Kakashi points out. He says it without judgment, knowing that Obito wanted to give her an eternal life instead of a temporary one. But even one year of existing is much so more than zero. “Weren’t there?”

Obito looks at Kakashi, tired and sad.

“I couldn’t find her.”

He doesn’t specify what he means but it makes sense. The plan to make the world sleep forever isn’t Obito’s own and knowing the cold and calculating reputation of Madara Uchiha, it is entirely possible that Rin’s grave was empty from the very beginning.

Even though Kakashi has always thought that she was brought back home.

“Can’t you dream?” Kakashi asks. “There’s no one else left.”

“You are,” Obito states. “And I don’t have enough chakra for it.”

He sounds like he’s made up his mind a long time ago about it.

But Kakashi has received a way too much extra time without offering anything in return which needs to stop.

“But I have.”

“Yeah, and you’re painfully mortal,” Obito rolls his eyes. The gesture makes him look like a human. He’s gorgeous when he’s unimpressed with Kakashi’s suggestions. “We should have a couple of weeks left,” he states. It’s an implication that Kakashi could spend them wisely instead of being stupid.

However, Kakashi isn’t done. He has had more than enough time. Endless dreams were not his idea of the best possible outcome but despite that, he’s grateful for them. They’ve been truly beautiful.

“My chakra is still usable,” Kakashi conveys. He hasn’t much to give but he can offer that. “You could…”

“Are you fucking stupid?”

For the first time, a spark ignites in Obito’s eyes. They glimmer in the moonlight, sad, angry and confused.

“I…”

“Don’t. Ever. Just don’t,” Obito hisses. “Why are you still such a fucking idiot?” he spits.

Kakashi can’t help but stare at Obito. This intense reaction is familiar from the past. The feisty response is full of emotion but it isn’t cold and spiteful. It’s just disorganized frustration.

Obito bites his lower lip and turns his gaze down. His anger begins to subside, and it is replaced by its opposing force. Kakashi doesn’t dare to name it but he’s not blind to it because they share their vision, and their souls are connected.

Kakashi realizes something he’s already known. Obito won’t operate for selfish reasons, he just isn’t the type. Kakashi isn’t the worthless exception to the rule. Their ugly history won’t change the feelings between them, and those feelings are beautiful.

A monster or not, right now Obito seems just scared and lost.

Kakashi hesitates for a while before placing his hand on Obito’s shoulder. The scaly skin feels different but it is warm.

Obito doesn’t shy away.

He doesn’t draw back even when Kakashi does what he should’ve done when he saw those deep, dark eyes tearing up for the first time. He pulls Obito into a hug.

They stay like that without speaking or trying to make sense out of the situation. Instead, they let the gravity sink in. There’s literally nothing left and it will be a problem. The universe is ancient and dying. Death has proven that it is the greatest force.

But sometimes death rewards those who’re smart enough to avoid it. A few extra years can be earned.

Kakashi pulls Obito tighter against his chest.

“’m so sorry,” Obito whispers as Kakashi runs his fingers through the white locks.

“Don’t be,” Kakashi gently scolds. Perhaps the rest of the world wanted Obito to regret his actions but everyone else is long gone, and Kakashi doesn’t need an apology. He’s gotten more than anyone could ask for, he’s had many happy lives. He wants to give something in return. “We’ll find a way to fix this.”

Obito lets out a shaky laugh.

“C’mon,” it isn’t a belittling comment. If there was a solution to this, Obito would’ve reversed the damage by now. He hasn’t been able to do that, not on his own. However, now that Kakashi is there…

There is one idea that seems worth trying.

Kamui is the strongest time-space out there. Nothing has ever come even close to it, and it hasn’t been used with the both Sharingan activated.

Kakashi explains this, and strangely enough, Obito doesn’t cut him off.

Or maybe it does make sense.

They are the last two people alive and each other’s best security.

“If we can go back in time,” Kakashi knows it’s a big if, “we can still save Rin. It’s not going to be easy, and the world is going to be far from perfect. But she could live a normal life. A happy one. We’ll make sure that she gets a chance.”

“That’s a horrible plan,” Obito comments but he hasn’t refused to consider it. “We’ll go with that.”

Kakashi smiles.

The end can’t be avoided forever but it can be delayed, and this is what Obito knows.

Kakashi has seen his fair share of death. He’s witnessed a handful of peaceful departures and dozens of demises that weren’t pretty at all. There are many ways to go but what unites them is the element of regret. People tend to wish that they’d done more instead of less.

“Looks like we have much planning to do then,” Kakashi comments.

Obito nods and allows Kakashi to press a tiny kiss on his cheek. Technically speaking, they might represent opposing sides in a conflict that hasn’t been resolved, and they’ve never been friends but there is a new alternative, a truly pleasant one.

If this plan works…

If…

They’ll have one more life to figure out whether they could be lovers for real. It’s an interesting thought experiment and a great little side cause.

In fact, it’s another goal to obtain or die trying.