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moonzie-writes-stuff · 1 year ago

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(Idea by @thesmileystudio but with the singular change of nOBODY ON THE SHIP KNOWING ABOUT IT)

So there I was, being rudely interrupted from my first dreamless sleep since the Highbrary by a frantic Bastille.

One thing we need to clarify. Don’t wake people up to help them after getting sick. I mean really, that’s extremely counterproductive to everything that any foster parents (or other Smedrys) have ever told me. (Surely there’s no oddly backwards Free Kingdomer logic about THAT, right?)

Of course, this situation might have possibly been different, since usually sickness isn’t caused by proximity to an acclaimed Hushlands landmark.

(No, I’m not kidding. In hindsight, why else would anyone build a giant metal arch in the middle of nowhere? For the “aesthetic?” Yeah, right.)

I’m going to assume you guys need context. I’m also going to assume I’m going to have to be the one to give it.

Fine. Here we go again.

“Why are we flying this way to Nalhalla? Isn’t it the other way?” I asked.

Kaz nodded. “We’re picking up Aydee on the way. I’m sorry, kid, but we’ve got to tell her the news about Attica.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence filled the aircraft after that.

For those of you reading this WITHOUT having read the last five books of my autobiography and Bastille’s sixth installment first of all, why? Why are you here? You don’t even know my name, do you? Those of you in the Hushlands are probably questioning why a prison in France is shaking me awake, aren’t you? Read the other books first, you sicko. Secondly, since of course you’re probably still here despite my admonishing, accept this recap.

My name is Alcatraz Smedry. My family is known for having Talents for stuff like breaking things (me), getting lost (Kaz), and being bad at math (Aydee). Or at least that’s how things used to go, until I accidentally released the Dark Talent upon the world and broke the talents. (You know, as one does under pressure.)

The Librarians control the Hushlands. (lands such as the United States or China) and hide that fact from everyone who’s not in their cult while simultaneously trying to take over the free kingdoms (lands such as Nalhalla, Mokia, etc.) and incorporate them into their ever-growing empire.

The last volume I wrote detailed our infiltration into the Highbrary (Or as Hushlanders might know it, the U.S. Library of Congress) and introduced “Cousin Dif,” aka Biblioden, aka the Scrivener, aka the original head of the Librarians who was supposed to be dead years ago.

He betrayed us all when we least expected it, then sacrificed my father on an altar and shot my grandfather, leaving me the last surviving member of the true Smedry line of Oculators, who can use special glasses to do cool stuff.

So, basically, we failed completely.

Or so I thought.

Bastille’s recently released installment covered a LOT of happenings, including but not limited to Grandpa Smedry somehow managing to get his talent back in time to save his life, (He’s still arriving late to his bullet wound to this day.) gravity breaking across the entire world, (I plead the fifth on that one.) a diplomatic discussion with the Dark Talent itself that ended in the other talents coming back, and me having no choice but to give a little bit of Smedry Talent to everyone in the world.

So if you ever find yourself waking up looking uglier than usual, or tripping over nothing, or putting something in one place and coming back to find it gone, that was probably my fault.

Sorry about that.

“Hey, Kaz? Can we stop for food somewhere?”

“Sure, kid. We’re coming up on St. Louis, so we can find a place there if anyone has any Hushlander currency.”

I had, in fact, procured some from the Highbrary, and I told Kaz so.

“Alright! Lemme just set the detour real quick,” Australia said.

“Nice, I’ve always wanted to see the Gateway Arch,” I said, sitting in the nearest empty chair.

Bastille scoffed. “I don’t understand Hushlanders. Lots of gates have arches. Why is this one so special?”

I shrugged. “Mostly because it’s big and metal, and I think you can go inside it, but that might be a different landmark. I guess we don’t have to see it.”

“Well, if we’re gonna be there anyway, I suppose we can stop by it for a few minutes,” Bastille said, rolling her eyes.

“Actually, if you’re in full armor and the rest of us minus Kaz are in formalwear… if we go somewhere that public, we’re definitely going to attract unwanted attention. We probably shouldn’t stop in a city that big at all,” I rationalized.

Bastille rolled her eyes. “There are extra clothes on this thing for a reason, Smedry. We can make something work.”

“Alright, then. Australia, I’m afraid you’re going to have to hover and let whoever’s coming with me down on the ladder. A giant penguin landing in the middle of the city would be way too noticeable. Speaking of which, who’s coming with me?”

Bastille, Sing, and Kaz volunteered.

“Alrighty, then. I’m going to need some way to keep contact with you guys. Australia, how do you feel about Courier’s Lenses?”

“Um… better than the first time the two of us used them?”

“That’ll work. Australia, you’re gonna have to take everyone’s orders and pass them onto me through the lenses. Can you do that?”

“Um… maybe? Do we have a backup plan?”

I shrugged. “Only if Kaz still has his cell phone.”

Kaz gave me a thumbs up. “Yup! Sure do!”

“Leave it with Australia and there’s our backup plan. Now, I’m still going to be at least acting like I’m using the phone. Hushlanders aren’t exactly… used to lenses, so don’t freak out when you see me on the phone. It’s purely for aesthetic purposes.”

“Okay.”

“Bastille, Sing, and Kaz, you go change into T-shirts and shorts. I’ll be doing the same. I’ll tell you if they’re on wrong when you’re done.”

And so began a somewhat infiltration into St. Louis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we came back together, we found out that Sing had no taste in clothes. At all.

At least Bastille had chosen a fairly normal-looking black tee-shirt with some sarcastic comment on it and a pair of bermuda shorts.

And it turns out Kaz looks pretty good in a sweater vest. (Who knew?)

Sing, however… Well, some things are better illustrated in pictures.

I looked at Sing. “Okay, you know what? Sing, can you just find a plain, white shirt?”

Sing nodded. “Alright!” he said, already running (tripping once) to the room he’d claimed on Penguinator.

“Bastille, that’s perfect. Great job.”

Bastille smirked. “Thanks, Smedry. You don’t look to bad yourself.”

(A/N: If you’re wondering what he’s wearing)

I blushed, quickly changing the subject when Sing came back, wearing, as I’d asked, a white t-shirt.

“Alright, Australia, drop us down there. We can walk from here.”

It was true. There was a Steak ’n’ Shake not too far from the edge of town we were approaching, so I told everyone ahead of time what their options were.

Australia dropped us off, and I put on my Courier’s Lenses as we walked to the Steak ’n’ Shake.

“Alrighty, guys. Check out the menu while I call Australia.” I said, pulling out the cell phone and acting like I was putting in a phone number.

“Hi!” Australia gasped. “OH MY GOSH ITS WORKING SO WELL??? WOW!”

I winced at her volume. “Okay, Australia. Ask everyone whether they want chicken tenders or a burger, and write it down so you can tell me.”

“You got it!” the Courier’s Lenses blinked out as Australia took them off.

Kaz grinned. “The cheeseburger looks pretty good. Also, what are milkshakes?”

I gasped, faux offendedly. “Okay yeah we have to introduce everyone to milkshakes. Wait, Kaz, do you know if anyone with us is lactose intolerant?”

Kaz shook his head. “Nope, nobody on Penguinator is lactose intolerant.”

“Great! Now I just have to-” at that precise moment, Australia’s Couriers Lenses were turned back on. “Nice! Australia, ask around for milkshake orders. They’ve got Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry, Banana, Oreo Cookies 'n Cream, Mint Oreo, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Birthday Cake, Cotton Candy, M&M's, Reese's peanut butter cup, Reese's peanut butter, Reese’s chocolate peanut butter, Nutella, Butterfinger, Kit-Kat, and Snickers.”

(A/N: yes I did have to copy and paste the shake menu and delete the calories and ingredient information this hurt me)

Australia dutifully wrote down each flavor and made a saluting motion before turning off her lenses again.

“Alright, guys! Any minute now and we’ll be able to order.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About half an hour later, the four of us returned to Penguinator with plenty of fast food for the others before immediately going back down to see the Gateway Arch.

A few minutes in, Sing tripped.

Of course, we made nothing of it.

A few minutes later, the milkshake started to disagree with me.

“Oof. I should NOT have gotten a large.”

Bastille scoffed. “Obviously.”

We came within sight of the arch, and my head began to pound.

Well, that’s not the milkshake, is it, I thought.

My stomach turned as we walked closer, and I found myself suddenly drained of all energy. Where before I’d had the quickest strides out of the team, now I was lagging about two feet behind Kaz, very much in last place.

Needless to say, Bastille noticed. Also needless to say, she decided to make fun of me for it. “You’d better not be falling asleep back there, Smedry,”

“No, m’fine,” I said, although I definitely was feeling a little sleepy.

We were so close; I couldn’t give up now. Bastille was gonna lose her mind when she found out we could, in fact, go inside the thing, up all the way to the top. There were windows up there, I was pretty sure.

She wanted to make fun of me for lagging behind? Well, we’d see how she felt about going ahead of everyone else when we were up six hundred thirty feet in the air.

The world seemed to spin all of a sudden, but on the bright side, we were almost to the ticket center.

“Hey guys! We can go inside it! Let’s go!” Sing exclaimed, pointing at a sign.

Kaz hung back. “I don’t know, guys. Are you sure you wanna go in? I mean, think about Bastille, that’s pretty high up…”

Bastille shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

I gave a small smile that probably looked like a grimace.* “That’s the idea. It’s time I get some teasing ammunition for once.”

Kaz looked at me. “Al, you’re not lookin’ to good. I don’t know if you’d survive up there without passing out.”

“M’fine, Kaz. C’mon, let’s get our tickets.”

We waited in line at the ticket center for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. My legs felt like gelatin, but Sing looked so excited, and I sure as heck wasn’t gonna be the one to rob him of this experience.

I inhaled sharply. White-hot pain stabbed through my head, uncannily reminiscent of the headaches I’d get as a child. (I now knew they were a result of Oculatory power building up in me at unhealthy levels.)

“You alright, Smedry? We can’t have you fainting away on us.” Bastille snarked.

“Fine, fine. Just a headache.”

“Drama queen.”

“Okay, Bastille.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Guys! The line’s moved!” Sing said, effectively finishing the argument for us.

I hobbled forward, swaying like one of those inflatable tube men you see in the Hushlands sometimes. (For you Free Kingdomers reading this, think holding a singular cooked noodle vertically and moving your hand back and forth slightly, but upside down and with two smaller noodles attached to the first one.)

Bastille steadied me. “Whoa, there. Don’t go fainting away on me, Smedry.”

I tried to think of a good comeback, but my mind wasn’t working and my vision was fuzzy and when I looked back at Bastille all that came out was, “S’rry.” (Brain-clouding radiation. Obviously.)

I don’t really remember what happened after that, but I woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, perfectly fine, with Bastille shaking me like a child rolling out play-doh.

“Bastille, stop, I’m awake!” I got up and looked around, taking in my surroundings, which seemed to be some sort of makeshift infirmary. “How and when did we get back here?”

“I carried you, idiot.”

“Oh.” I could feel my cheeks reddening at the implication that Bastille had been lugging me around like a sack of potatoes back to Penguinator.

I looked back up at Bastille, and immediately received a smack to the face as a reward for my eye contact.

“Ow… what the heck?”

Bastille then proceeded to tackle-hug me back onto the bed. I stiffened.

This is once again a time to tell the women reading this to please give us men a warning before you hug us. We need warning. (You know what, just everyone give people warning in general it doesn’t matter the gender.)

“Alcatraz, please NEVER do that again; Sing said he could feel your pulse slowing down. You could’ve died, Smedry. I…” Bastille got up and paced around the room, stopping at a window. “I can’t lose you.”

I blinked stupidly. “You can’t lose me?” What on earth was that supposed to mean?

Bastille looked down, and I wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or if her cheeks were genuinely as red as mine. “For one, your entire family would kill me, and for two, the knights would kill me again.”

“So, purely diplomatic, then,” I said, not sure why I was feeling strangely disappointed.

“That, yeah.”

I looked down at the ground, trying to hide the fact that my face was probably tomato red. We were flying closer to St. Louis, and as we approached, I could feel a headache flaring up again. I wobbled back to my bed as spots swam in my vision, and the last thing I remember before passing out was seeing the top of the Gateway Arch through the floor.

I woke up with Australia on the bed next to me, trying to calm down a panicked Sing.

“It’s fine, Sing. It was just a little headache.”

Sing raised an eyebrow. “You said you were really dizzy.”

Australia looked at me and slowly shook her head. “You should be worried about Alcatraz; he passed out again, but he’s awake now. Go interrogate him.”

With my luck, that did the trick, and Sing immediately ran over to (for some bizarre reason) check my vitals.

“Sing, I’m fine now. I don’t know what came over me.”

Sing looked about to cry. “You said you were fine last time and look what happened!”

“Yeah, why are we suddenly fine now?” Australia wondered. “Like, I was REALLY dizzy. Sing, you saw it. I almost fell over.”

“I don’t know, but I think I passed out again when we were over the arch.”

Australia nodded. “Yeah, the thing was, like, wiggling and stretching through my lenses. I got a headache just looking at it through them, but when I took ‘em off, it just went away.”

“Huh.”

“I might be crazy, but I think it’s the arch.”

“But if it’s the arch, why were only the two of us affected?”

“Good question.”

We sat there in silence, thinking about why the arch would give an adverse reaction to the two of us specifically.

“Oh,” Australia said, tapping her head like she’d just found out that the most obvious answer was, in fact, the right one.

“What?”

“I think it’s an Oculator thing.”

“Then why would I have passed out while you didn’t?”

“By the first sands, Smedry, isn’t it obvious?” Bastille’s voice came from behind me and I started. I’d forgotten she was there.

“Bastille, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are three different Smedrys in the room right now, so you’re gonna have to learn everyone’s first names at some point.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

“Alcatraz…”

“What?”

Bastille then made a noise that sounded uncannily like a horse muffled into a pillow.

“Okay, what’s so obvious, then?”

“It’s because you’re so shattering powerful. I mean, have you ever seen Australia use Courier’s lenses from halfway across the country? On instinct?”

“Uh… no.”

Australia nodded. “Yeah, I can confirm I could NEVER.”

“Oh.”

*I know EXACTLY what a good number of the Hushlanders are probably thinking, and you’re thinking of the wrong fast food chain. Go smell some grass, or whatever it is the Hushlands kids say nowadays.

#I am never writing a sickfic from first person pov again #my writing #alcatraz vs the evil librarians #MOTHER HEN SING RIGHTS #Alcatraz Smedry #Australia Smedry #Kazan Smedry #sing sing Smedry #mentioned Leavenworth Smedry #mentioned Attica Smedry

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