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yohohonabottle · 10 days ago

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The wicked sun and Orderly moon- "Twin Merlins" (Reposted from A03)

🖋️Summary: When the sun is gone, the moon dutifully watches over the land. When the sun comes- so does unprecedented chaos that the moon reigns back in order. Two entities from beyond yonder, both essentially intertwined and woven into the world's tapestry. 📖 Work status: Completed

[ ❗ ]TW: Violence (description of torture and gore) [ ❗ ] -------------- 🎧Songs recommended for this work: -> Sanctuary of Surasthana choir with cathedral effect -> Moolians - Gu-Zo-Su-Hi/Lyrical Devil plus some Danganronpa soundtracks -> Who lives, Who dies, Who tells your story ->Monodrama -> Kafka's theme -> Bequeathed to the beloved

---------------------- "Unbeknownst to the denizens of every contained world, there are countless entities looking on from afar. Like spectators, they watch them go through sorrows and triumphs akin to actors in a grand play. And beyond the rapt audience, are the ones whom brought the land into existence and wrote its intricate rules. Let's call them...'Directors', to follow along with the theater-performance analogy."

—"Hey, weren't they the ones that 'make the dynamite strings'? Why're you running us through this again?"

The campfire crackles and pops, its warm glow casting flickering shadows over the faces of the crew currently gathered. Two teams made up of various factions, some old and familiar faces while others are yet to be 'met'. Whether the personages are villains or heroes in the 'narrative' matters little here- Only their skills and respective attributes, and team role.

The first and primary team comprises of the favorites, the secondary experimental and seemingly random. The other five team members of the favorites glance over at their 'captain' as the deathly-pallid man pauses his tale-recounting, offering the disheveled sailor a light patient smile. Understanding, oddly knowing, as though he has overlooked a small but crucial detail in a rush. Along with a small note of apology, answer simple.

—"Because it's important- For the newly aware, to not be lost and afraid as they notice out of place elements. And for those who have been 'awake' for longer, to have a better understanding of what you know. And if nothing else, then it's a nice ghost story."

—"Sure, you could technically put it this way." -Berial's smooth and clear-ringing tenor calmly joins in to refute, pulling the attention to himself. The usually over-the-top babbling Hypogean wears an expression of reluctant tiredness so out of character for him, sitting cross-legged on the grass and with face slightly obscured by the brim of his top-hat.

It's like he's lost most of his energy, not in the mood for dramatics or any form of performing.

"But you know as much as us that this knowledge is, well- useless in the end. Simply knowing and understanding you two doesn't give any of us leverage, or peace." So why pull us through this? Weren't you unenthusiastic to share the secrets?

What happened?

Quietly, in the background Cassadee ponders to herself with a tome-thick notebook in her hands while the aspiring gem-magic wielder softly hums under her breath a happy calming tune, contemplative. Both had 'woken up' merely a day ago after having been kept on the shelf for months until they reached the highest hero tier and got their weapons upgraded, making them 'finally useful' for the Player. There's a sense of mild unease about the two girls from the experimental team, the distant but distinct memory of being at least a little favored clinging to their subconscious even to this day...since the very first time the 'sun' and 'moon' arrived in Esperia.

And then two days in the journey's first steps or three, that favor fell away.

On the other side of the campfire, Salazer contemplatively watches the lively dance of the flames, perfectly-curved smile missing as his mind walks through the current excerpt.

He is no stranger to the 'spectator' from beyond.

At first, he couldn't care any less in his initial assumption that the entity in question is merely some boogieman or an unruly, undisciplined peasant or slave.

Until the envelope arrived, sent by the Mystical House and he was yanked from home- Recruited. Became a unit. Then, standing face to face with the slim barrier, the cusp of the world he knows and the realm outside- Salazer found his enlightenment. His awakening, eyes opened to the much greater knowledge, despite having lacked an apt term for it. Then, in that fateful moment fleeting--The nobleman heard her voice crystal clear, neigh boom akin to that of a goddess in unassuming low-class appearance of a mortal adolescent. It was the very first time, that he was closely exposed to 'the sun', felt her emotions seep, ebb and flow through him, sent shivers down to his very bones.

That day, the Graveborn aristocrat knew true power...And gripping fear, coupled with excitement. Partially his own, partially Rila's. There was a feeling of curious glee following after him, as he took down foe after foe in battle under the Player's unwavering gaze. Favored.

And then that sensation of joy got lost, like a candle harshly blown out with no return. In its stead settled a strange coldness--Disinterest, perhaps even a hint of discontent.

What changed? Was his might not enough? Was his whip not good enough, lacked strength? Were his skills no longer adequate, up to her standards? -Such worries plagued the upperclassman for days, and still do. He's made it a point to very carefully track when the recruitment letters would be sent out, how many on the given day or night, at what hour-- And made sure to snatch at least one of them.

However the pattern is heavily inconsistent, infuriatingly so.

Sometimes the phenomenon would occur at quarter to past five o'clock in the morning, sometimes in the evening. Sometimes, at three o'clock both in the morning, afternoon and night. And some days would yield nothing at all, a long drawn-out radio silence.

It made keeping track impossible.

Furthermore, what has to be most frustrating- is that even when he does get a stroke of luck and finds himself standing at the barrier... His words fall upon deaf ears. Suddenly, all he can utter, is his one 'iconic' inquiry.

Like a parrot or a broken record. Thus the questions haunting his mind remain without answer.

It's only today, or tonight, that Rila at last chose him for one fight. One fight alone, not even for the next retries of that same stage in the spire. Yet somehow he can acutely feel her influence and emotions still, in spite of the declined contact. The only other such entity of great power, is 'Pirin'. The 'moon' dutifully overseeing him and all the other units that have woken up. ...The moon that barely lingers, making his presence scarce with chance 'meetings' such as the current one being a rarity. Despite his role as Merlin in the sun's presence.

Next to the pensive cruel nobleman, Cecia sits on her throne of thorns. Ever-hungry for more power, the Lady of Thorns was quick to understand that the Sun and Moon are beings capable of immense potential. The winning side that trumps everyone else. The former has been glimpsed of bringing entire worlds into existence in a single day, with nothing but words and a pencil on paper or with her own fingertips.

And subsequently crush those worlds in less. Twisting and bending the very reality into anything she wishes. ..For brief second a chilling feeling settles over the woman. Like words being woven together in this very moment. Is this moment, also, one of the many realities spun? Or is the reality they know being altered? Somehow the sensation melts away with the thought akin to salt dissolving in water.

As for the latter, he has only been glimpsed fleetingly to mend reality- restoring it to its initial order prior to his half's fit of mayhem and gleeful mischief, leaving it reverted seamlessly and the memories of the phenomenon wiped away from everyone's mind. The Weaver once was a witness prior to her disappearance and through the Syndicates' leader Cecia learnt about this ability.

Not even on the next day, Illucia had no recollection of the events.

To make an enemy out of either or both would be the highest folly.

"When the sun is gone, the moon dutifully watches over the land. When the sun arrives, so does unprecedented chaos that the moon reigns tightly back in order. Two beings from far beyond yonder- Intrinsically entwined and woven into the world..."

The two groups turn their attention to the shadowy mischief-maker, some inquisitive, some baffled and others wary of his soft mumble. Unperturbed, Berial keeps on shuffling the playing cards in his hands before making them vanish with leaving only one between his fingers.

A strange mix between a taro and playing card depicting a lean pearl-eyed stern man, arms folded behind his back and a young-looking dark-brown haired woman with rich purple in her curly hair. Except her left half looks like him sans the tail and feathery wings, and jester attire- eyes and mouth a hot-pink color instead of pale faded purple, mouth less jagged. The woman appears positively elated, manic one might even say. At least her 'Hypogean' half. An innocent and kindhearted face with a dark, unpredictable side lurking secretly underneath.

"Two sides of the same coin and polar opposites." Two contradictions, stitched in one outside the worlds they visit. Near constantly at each other's throat yet can't be without one another. Looking up from the card, he dismissively tosses it into the fire. The jovial performer's signature eerie grin still hasn't returned as he visibly shudders.

Still hasn't forgotten the times that freak absolutely terrorized him and the other sins relentlessly, for the sole purpose of amusement. That woman is one unpredictable little fiend- You'd think it'd be easy to play her like a fiddle with how socially inept she is and like an open book. And you'd be horribly wrong- Turns out she's got the talent of surprises. Whether the surprise is good or terrible is a major coin flip, heads- good, tails- bad. Even then it's still uncertain- The two could be reversed for all you know.

For days that thing followed right after him. Berial honestly couldn't believe it- Him, caught by strings and moved around like a puppet, then torn limb by limb and reassembled a fifty times, almost literally died due to being half totally drained of magic and energy.

Three times back to back, and tortured with unspeakable vivid visions.

Oh, yes- There was also that one time the sadistic bitch literally dissected him like a frog, leaving him gaping for a nice whole hour. Just a few highlights. Worst part is the inability to get back at her for it all, and defend against it.

All because that little terror plays by completely different rules from a different board.

Berial has never been terrified before, from anyone. Period. Not even those glowing holly shmucks. But Rila? That thing really quickly put the word into his vocabulary. Every now and then, the mere sight of a thin chord causes him to freak out and bolt to hide away like getting flash-banged. In all honesty, I'd take copying statues all the time over...that. Phraesto and Reinier had the nerve to laugh their bums off, teasing and mocking him to hell and back. Until they, too, got 'lucky'.

Poor Stinger-head sweats bullets at just hearing that demon's name and Reinier? He simply hurries to jump into the next dimension the millisecond he senses her presence nearby. His rings are still chipped as if something literally bit into them, triggering his mysophobia like crazy. Worst part is how the rings were also skewed, like folded or snapped in half.

"What's wrong, Berial? Don't you love mischief and fun? Why're you scrambling?"-She had asked in a sweetly innocent cooing sing-song voice, advancing as though about to pounce. Now, it's true that his track record really isn't savory--But what she did wasn't mischief under any form! It was pure, messed-up and cruel sadism! Chaos is one. Complete and total anarchy is a whole 'nother different thing. Which says a lot, for a messed-up evil clown like him to be saying this.

—"You better pray Rila never comes to Esperia in person. I fear no man. But that thing...It scares me."

Grave silence hangs in the air.

—"....I saw her once, in person. ..I mistakenly took her life, however she revived herself as though nothing happened. " -An elegant tenor speaks up, barely above a whisper. All eyes turn towards the camp's edge where the Stormsword stands with his head subtly bowed, turquoise eyes downcast somberly. The clown visibly flinches, gripping his tail extra tightly, casting a quick look around the clearing.

Meanwhile Sinbad steals a side-glance over at Nara, a little uncomfortable with the Graveborn girl's presence. The woman has clearly died during the final showdown against Hodgkin, and stays dead- sleeping with fishes at the bottom of the sea. Nobody went to retrieve her body or performed another resurrection on her. And...here the Water Wights' dead leader is. In the flesh. A very peculiar, unsettling paradox.

"A playable character can't die or grow out of his or her 'established' age. For recruited units, time is frozen perpetually even as the world changes." -Pirin's words echo in his mind, sending chills down his spine.

Then what happens to those like Sonja's sister? Those that died 'in the narrative' but are playable regardless? Nara has been recruited. Yet she's like a ghost, similar to the lost spirits in Viperian's lab at Ragebone Cove. Unseeing and unresponsive, kept on invisible strings.

Valen stays uncharacteristically quiet, coarse brows pinched into a light scowl.

I saw her at Traveler's Light a week ago–She looked completely normal. Didn't act unhinged either. Is something wrong with Rila? Did she get corrupted?

Or is it all one giant act for her own amusement? Has it been all along?

How many times were reality and time torn apart without a care for no reason? How many times has Pirin had to right things out? Reverse and clean up the messes in her wake?

And how can that woman be a genuinely sensible sweetheart, wiser and more mature for her age...And then turn around and be a terrifying wildcard of unapologetic, unabashed force of destruction?

Is it venting out frustrations, fears, disappointments and pent-up sky-high aggression? Like how a child would play with toys..? It doesn't add up in the least--If that's the case, why here? Why unleash all of that on Esperia and those who live in this world? Why not go to a world she has created? A moment resurfaces to the knight's mind.

During the first days of the journey, when the petite brunette had appeared in person, found him at Traveler's Light. It was a completely normal encounter- No havoc, no crazy or creepy behavior. If it weren't the odd clothes and terminology--He wouldn't have noticed. Just a very short, shy and awkward girl who means well. Looked bit like an idiot, but Valen didn't have trouble helping her get past the initial bout of inner panic. Leveled them both on the same playing-field so she doesn't feel immensely out of place- Like being an unwelcome nuisance, or as though being perfect is a must. As if trying to impress a figure of utmost high status and authority, or an employer to get the job.

By Dura, did Rila prove herself to be an interesting fella once she warmed up. Witty, friendly, funny and pretty good conversation partner. Can't forget her humor either.

Well-mannered, reserved and quite good at verbal sparring. Can't count how many times the teen's brief words of wisdom had felt like a hard slap to the face and brought him down to Esperia. Simple truths, yet somehow have been eluding him. In the span of that one afternoon casual chat, the Solitaire was left looking forward to the next time they might meet.

The image of the young-looking woman smiling with gentle understanding clashes awfully with the horrors described. It couldn't have been faked. Rila isn't even the lying type! Every time she heard or witnessed dishonesty, her face turned to a deeply disapproving frown. Reserved annoyance at times even. Quiet anger.

...So how come she's like this..? Is it a cry for help masked under embracing madness?

Sitting across from him, the 'Secondary Magister' looks around the merry patrons at the other tables with a gloomy faraway deadpan- absently tracing a finger around her tankard's bottom. After a few long minutes of silence, the woman finally speaks up in a low tone full of contemplation. Distant and detached as her chestnut-hazel eyes, cheek resting in her hand and sharp elbow propped on the table's edge. Valen only observes without interrupting, taking a swing of his drink as he listens. The late afternoon sun's light hits his companion's face in such a way, that it makes her eyes seem forest green.

—"It's an ugly place- Back home. The people majorly being snide easily-offended cockroaches, time rushing too fast, deputies and governments that don't give a single rat's ass about the people and... bloody wars being waged left and right, for no reason.. No good one, anyway. It's either out of greed for resources and influence or power, throwin' their weight around. Or just plain dumb pettiness. None of 'em give a damn for peace or the countless innocent lives that ultimately pay the price. As always. It's only going to shit with each year. "

Her gaze idly sweeps over the people's faces, watching the waitress dart to and fro with peppy grace in her step and a sunny grin on her face as she serves the customers.

"...As soulless as it may sound, cowardly even maybe--I've no intentions of helping the world. I only care to survive through that disgustingly horrid circus and mind my own business. I know I'm no next revolutionary- Too risky & dangerous. And I'm not 'crazy' enough--I'd rather keep my head." A wry soft smile of self-deprecation curls itself onto her rosy lips as she glances down at the apple juice in her mug and lightly swirls it.

"Guess I got no right to whine with this in mind, huh?" Lightly drumming his fingers in thought on the table, Valen says nothing back.

It's not like Esperia doesn't have the same, or strikingly similar rotten underbelly. Nor is this world any more forgiving than 'that wretchedly terrible circus'. Even though it may appear so at a glance on the surface, to a 'tourist'. But...at least it's more peaceful, in a way, as in the lack of constant wars going on at all sides. Sure there are militaristic efforts, and all the atrocities that come with war, however it's not nearly as frequent. For now, can't say for the future-The world is always changing after all.

Looking into Rila's eyes- his heart twists. There's no spark of life in them. No joy-- And she's hardly near her thirties or forties still. A look he has seen- sees- in the gazes of his colleagues. Except this one is more sad to gaze at.

It's the look of someone who has lost all faith in humanity long ago and very barely gets it back at all.

—"Yes, and no." -The Heroic Order knight mutters pensively, earning himself a puzzled look. In truth, the topic is very messily complicated. There's no easy answer.

—"It's understandable for you to prefer to stay out of conflicts. And you make a fair point- Not everyone is brave enough to throw away everything for change on a large scale, withstand and push back against the onslaught of ruthless backlash they'd inevitably face from the top."

Dura above knows how much he and Fay have struggled--Kids of no remarkable name, too poor to afford anything more than sighing over the toys and goods displayed on store windows, fighting tooth and nail on the daily while mom & dad work to exhaustion and count every copper when time comes to pay taxes. Just very narrowly toeing the line between middle-class and slum-poor.

How many times they'd been bullied by their peers and the rich kids? And then the dream of becoming a knight ignited in little Valen's heart- To rise high to the top, as high as possible, to protect and support his family. Be able to protect many others as well, so they may not suffer the same, in its full brunt.

At the time, joining the army was the best option he had on hand with his lack of academic education- Not totally illiterate. But definitely not on-par for much more prestigious jobs like the law, economy or teaching and medical and scholarly field. A smooth silver tongue can only get you so far. When the certificate matters most and bribery is not an option, simply because you don't have the money.

So young Valen took up to swinging his wooden sword, honing his swordplay and fighting skills, became a mercenary. While sweet, optimistic sister Fay took to singing and dancing, gems and magic, and smooshed them all into one. Went around adventurer and scholars' camps- Until she decided to enroll in the Serene Lyceum to further pursue the art of magic. Sold all the exquisite gems and crystals she has found by accident, courtesy of her innate keen intuition when it comes to finding treasures, including gems and geodes. And here they both stand now, all nicely grown up- Him as a knight at the helm of the Solitaires of the secretive Heroic Order, and Fay as a successful adventurer invaluable to any scholars she joins and current apprentice of the greatest mage alive.

However not everyone in the position their younger selves were is as 'crazy' to take a wild leap of faith as they did.

"On the other hand, only voicing your discontent with matters constantly doesn't do anyone favors. Same as pity parties. You seem to know this well enough."

Waving his memories aside like the wind tenderly sweeps through wheat-fields, the elite solder gives a brief moment of quiet to give his answer some thought. Looking up at the fairer-skinned young lady eying him curiously from around the notepad she holds with a pencil in-hand, he offers a reassuring smile and a few cents of his own simple wisdom. A light to help nudge into a clearer direction, hopefully.

"How about a 'compromise'? You're pretty good at drawing and writing, from what snippets you showed me of that painting you had started some days ago and that excerpt you red me today." Still bemused, not quite catching onto his drift. "Why don't you share them- Your art, your stories? It's not much, but it could be helpful to make the 'circus' a little less grim." Doubt sprawls on Rila's rounded oval face, bushy brows pinched together.

—"...How're those silly ramblings and amateur drawings going to help anyone? They won't stop the wars or right the atrocities, abuse and injustice. Certainly won't make me or anyone rich and big...Not that I actually want fame or overwhelming wealth- I've seen what those do. Disastrous things. I'm happy with my simple, humble life." She glances down at her notepad, a tiny edge of bitter scorn in her irises.

"Point is, my nonsense won't help anyone." A claim that Valen calmly refutes with an easy-going smirk on his scarred face and a pinch of theatric goofy bravado as he wags a finger.

—"On the contrary. I'd argue that making your readers' day- or evening- a tiny less dreary is a lot of help. To inspire and invigorate, give them hope- Is the best form of aid you can offer. You, and all the others like you, make that world a little better."

And hope is the second most valuable, important thing to have next to being in good health. No attempt at retorting follow, so the playboy goes on to bring this topic to a neat closure with a final pearl of wisdom.

"Give yourself more credit and keep being hopeful. Don't be afraid of taking a leap of faith here and there." Without being needlessly reckless.

The memory fades to the soft crackling of campfire, the people having declined in numbers--Only Soren, Fay, Mirael ,Cassadee and Nara remain by the fire. A small hand rests on his shoulder and a pair of faded dark purple eyes look at him worriedly, Fay's canary-like voice tugging the Solitaire's busy mind. Looking up from the flickering fire, he glances around the camp, taking notice of the many missing people with surprise.

—"Where is everyone?"

—"Pirin told us more essential information about the Players and our 'role' and then the second team left." -His sister answers with an optimistic smile that feels a little strained. Overwhelmed and unsure of how to feel about all the newly gained 'cosmic' knowledge of the Truth. Her optimism struggling to keep her unwaveringly high, hopeful spirit from cracking under the weight. Just as he had fought to keep his own sanity together and stay out of the desperation upon first learning.

Esperia, the world they've always known, their whole lives and those of everyone else--Insignificant, borne into existence by the 'Directors' with countless complex lines of code, lore and pixels for the sole purpose of entertainment. Nothing, but mere collectables with pre-determined fate from start to the very end, and when their time is up as the servers inevitably get closed one day....

What then?

None of the struggle matters in the end. It's all just a silly mobile gacha game.

...At least there are audience members who keep each of their flame, tells their story. Is this enough?

Still, it hurts insurmountably. It's surprisingly easy to cover it up, act like nothing happened in front of the Players. Pretend nothing has changed.

—"How many versions are there of us?" -A haggard, tired Solitaire inquires in a strained quiet, broken voice as the new knowledge seeps into his very bones under the Overseer's warily watchful eye. Looking at the rifts in reality and time, at the abyss staring back coldly, listlessly, with words and numbers, and symbols he'd never understand for the life of him...with terror and helpless wounded anger and confusion. The crushing weight of the cosmic secret pressing onto his shoulders like a mountain and threatening to break him, mind grappling with the truth glaring him in the face and desperate denial. While clutching onto the lifeline the frail night nymph has given him, extending magic and song to soothe his slipping sanity. —"As many as the Players out there. Some never make it to high tier, some cases all reach highest stage shortly, and some stay unaware while others wake sooner or later. Some are favored above all others, depends on each player. All that ignoring the players who 'reroll' and how many times they do." The moon explained calmly in a somber tone while righting out the cataclysm caused by Rila's gleeful rampage of frustration. Valen silently watched his former charge mend the timelines to order, stitching up the fabric of reality to its natural order as per intended by the narrative. And wipe away the memories of the 'slumbering' people whom bore unfortunate witness.

—"And Vanya? Where did he go?" Valen loops an arm around Fay's shoulders, pulling his sibling into a tight reassuring hug. 'It's okay. It'll be okay.' In a macabre sense, it's comforting to know Fay has become aware instead of remaining as just a cardboard pawn. The thought of having to watch the geomancer loop through the same dialog-lines like an empty shell, a husk of herself--The older brother hurries to shut down that line of thought.

Bearing the Truth is enough.

Hugging back and fighting to keep smiling, Merlin's student goes on to elaborate, seeing as how Cassadee is too busy sorting the information in her mind.

—"Sinbad pulled him aside to let us have a breather from the new information, suggesting to call it a night. They should be little ways closer to the ruins in the Haunted forest."

"....Valen? ...I'm scared." The cheer is gone, a small quiver to her voice. Fighting back a sob.

The roving swordsman hugs his younger sister tighter, murmuring hushed words of comfort as he rubs soothing circles on her back. And prays she makes it out through the stages of waking, knowing it's inevitable. Even if Rila doesn't pick her or the others very often, the spike in power is evident. (right..?) The biggest hurdles are steadily trickling in, the rise steep.

Meanwhile, seated on the other log 'round the fire next to Cassadee, Mirael quietly mulls over the Truth's ramifications and the appearance of the two 'Merlins', as her fellow mage has dubbed them in her studious notes. Two sides of the same coin, like the purple-haired twins of Eternity from another world Pirin sometimes has told brief stories about when prompted about his time as that land's 'moon'. One of the twins was dreamy and kind, the aspect of dreams and change while the other was stern and unyielding with reinforcing order... that would then morph into the pursuit of eternity after the first goddess perished. On rare occasions, some of Teyvat's people have allegedly joked that him and Rila are the less tragic Ei & Makoto. ...In any case, this is quite the predicament.

On one had, Merlin is still alive and active as he follows his own role--However it often appears that Rila takes full control of his body akin to a ghostly possession. Not that the Magister has tried to resist or fight back, relinquishing control easily.

Or is it possible that's the case...because my Magister can't fight back or pose any form of resistance to this? The thought sends cold chills down the Scarlet enchantress' spine.

The string of sinister thoughts edging to delve deeper as follow up spiral are equally as unsettling- No. Terrifying. Concepts that Mirael firmly refuses to face, even less dares to glance at for a second. The implications are even more so. She hurries to burn, chase those thoughts away. --Yet they still quietly persist, looming ominously at the very edge of her mind. --On the other hand, without 'the sun'- Time may go on but nothing changes in terms of progression...and when she leaves, it comes to a stand-still altogether.

The whole time Pirin talked, spinning the great cosmic secret into a whimsical fairy-tale like legend, the Magister's apprentice had been hastily taking notes to document it all in full detail. Along with in-depth analysis notes on the duo's abilities and nature. Poor girl's quill moved so fast across the page, that it looked as though it would catch ablaze.

—"If my observations are right-Then 'Rila' is a catalyst, ensuring the events unfold accordingly. Moreover, once she arrives in a world- Her presence gets intertwined into it, altering it unintentionally. I suspect the descent of each catalyst- Player- creates a nexus point or several nexus nodes. One is where the world remains the same as it was prior to their arrival, with the other being the current 'new' order." The Scarlet witch looks down at the tome overflowing with scribbled notes as her fellow mage mumbles under her breath, reading over the text for mistakes.

It's worth asking him on the matter..Although he'd likely choose to not reopen this topic for a while.

Casting a glance over her shoulder at the tree-line of the foggy forest, Mirael looks back at Cassadee's study. The option to forget the Truth is on the table for anyone of them who no longer wishes to know, a form of falling asleep once more and loosing awareness or a transitory moment of blissful ignorance. The case being the latter for the Sun's three most favored.

—"Every 'actor' that becomes aware of the spectators and directors' gaze has 'woken up' and has two routes in that point. Either his, or her, mind fails to comprehend what is happening and what he-she is faced with and breaks into madness...Or undergoes a process of change which ends in accepting the overwhelming meta-knowledge. In a way, this could be viewed as a symbolic death and metamorphosis from how he, she used to be- To a newer self. Ideally, none of the 'actors' in the 'play' should wake up at all to begin with for the reasons I mentioned." —"What happens to those who fail to transition? Is it possible for that person to recover on his or her own?" -The white-haired mage inquires as she raises a hand to catch the Overseer's eye, hurrying to flip onto a blank page. The two groups' attention turns to her then back to the felled star. A deeply contemplative scowl curls onto the 'magister's' lips with a grim look in his pearlescent eyes as he takes a moment to sift through his memories and speaks carefully. Still continuing to chew on her question mentally in the meantime. —"I haven't seen or heard of such cases, nor have I allowed it to happen. Maybe it's possible, however I strongly believe the odds are rather low. It's why I make sure to keep a close eye on those that wake up when it first occurs, in order to help lead them onto the metamorphosis route. ...And, hopefully, make it as smooth as possible." —"I see...And what happens if they fall into insanity?" —"Then they become a shattered husk of their former selves, grasping for anything that can anchor them in desperation." A flicker of sorrowful fear flashes in the man's irises as he utters this in a shushed tone.

—"I can't help but feel bad for him. Having to reverse the damage his 'half' causes carefreely and watch over us while shouldering the Magister's journey and legacy." Merlin's former student carefully reaches out a hand and flips back to the pages detailing the two entities that have impacted Esperia so vastly. "Mirael?" Two sides of the same coin, and polar opposites..

(1) 'Connected how? Same entity??' Is it possible for Pirin to be a close reflection of Rila? (2) 'Rila doesn't suffer any damage when Pirin gets wounded/perish. In reverse he experiences the same injuries and emotions as when she sustains damage.' (3) 'It appears that Pirin exhibits traits of both an 'actor' and a 'player' at the same time.' Referencing the stories he has shared of worlds other than Esperia, he is capable of traversing and setting down in various different universes, along with influencing other characters and reality*-- similar to how some 'players' are able to. Curiously, he seems to be limited strictly within the 'fictitious' spaces along with lacking control over his own fate both past and future akin to a 'character' or 'actor' in a 'narrative'. Therefore I believe it's safe to assume that Rila (his 'half') has the role of 'Director' in relation to him. (Note: Ref- point 8) Similarly to a Player/Director, it appears he cannot be truly killed. According to one of Valen's eye-witness accounts, Pirin had gotten into a fight with Berial, the Hypogean killing him however the 'magister' self-resurrected and proceeded to strike back in retaliation. The sinister jester was dismayed by this turn of events and disengaged, fled the scene at the sight of Pirin's threads as soon he was set free of them. * Note: Some players can be also 'Directors'. I accidentally seem to have connected to Rila in one of my dreams shortly prior to becoming aware. The words she told me still puzzle me. "You're not under my jurisdiction." -Likely referring to the characters in her own universes. From this excerpt, I confidently conclude that since Pirin shares her abilities and roles (partially), he has lesser influence on us due to not being our 'Director', limited to memory/mind manipulation and/or mild puppeteering. However Rila has slightly stronger presence. (4) 'Pirin and Rila seem to share memories, knowledge and emotions (to a degree), leading me to believe they share a consciousness at a core level. Possibly linked together?' (?*)(5) Can Players have manifestations of themselves within the worlds they visit? It appears so. (The 'sun' & 'moon' being prime case example if my suspicions prove correct.) (6) It appears that time beyond Esperia flows much slower, with our day-night cycle passing nearly in the blink of an eye for the Players.. Furthermore, according to Pirin- The Player and Directors' realm lacks the magic and creatures outside of the regular animals. Yet in juxtaposition their technology, equipment and scholarly fields are highly advanced compared to ours, achieving a near 'magic-like' effect in complexity, potential and efficiency. I attempted to ask for more information however the Overseer refused to speak further on the matter. Very fascinating... (7) Actors are unable to truly harm and kill a Player (Catalyst) and a Director (World creator). (8) More observations and references are needed. Unfortunately 'Pirin' is highly unwilling to open up the topic and divulge more regarding the 'Truth' and its other aspects beyond the very essentials; Rila is missing most of the time, with her personal appearances on our world being sporadic and very brief. Currently I only have Valen, Eironn and Berial's account. (Sinbad and Soren refuse to broach the topic- How they came to wake up, their metamorphosis, emotions, what has changed, etc. I suspect they followed the general pattern that the three accounts point to.)

Snapping out of her own musings, the witch looks up, meeting Cassadee's inquisitively uncertain and worried blue eyes. Questioning.

—"Sorry- I got distracted for a moment, Cassadee. Did you ask me something?"

—"No, no- It's okay. I was just thinking to myself."

Meanwhile, Soren still remains perfectly silent--standing next to the log his three other teammates sat earlier. Arms crossed over his broad chest and head bowed slightly, his fringe falls to cover up his eyes as he stares into the flickering embers distantly. The fire's warmth does little to shoo away the nagging dread chilling him to his very bones as it slowly creeps. If the worst suspicions come true--Then it wouldn't matter whether Alsa has been recruited long ago after she became playable little ways before his turn came up. She'd still inescapably loose all awareness, fail to make it through the awakening and undergo that change...fall asleep.

The same fate that would catch Fay, Mirael, Cassadee and Mikola. As it would befall Salazer, Eironn, Bryon and many others not favored by Rila highly enough to interact with them frequently. Would they become like Nara, same state without being dead?

"I'll preface with this regarding the 'actors' in the narrative as it's essential: Right off the get-go everyone automatically has a default 'asleep' state- Or not available for recruitment by the players, 'playable' that cannot wake up long after having been recruited. This is for the Directors, a copy that stays fixed in the narrative. While when you go on to become playable, the chance of becoming aware presents itself as a possibility. Or you can remain asleep like the copy. This, however, is not in your hands unfortunately--The players inadvertently call the shots."

The warrior's lips press to a thin line, hands balling into fists as his ears droop. The memory of his own waking still blazes in his mind's eye as vivid as if it was today.

It was a day after having won in the Warsong Festival and gone out to journey through the Ashen Wastes on their way to Alkali. That day, the fragile-looking blood-sucker had looked up at him with a look of pained sadness and anxious dread. Scared for him, for his well-being as though he stood on the precipice of gravely immense danger. However didn't say anything, preferring to stay quiet.

Or was actually thinking of how to breach the subject and ease him into those murky quicksand depths as gently as he can. Spin, weave a tight net strong enough to keep him aloft from falling in. And Soren himself was relatively content to let him be, not being one for fussing over or needless chatter himself...

That was, until he just couldn't take the heavy silence of melancholy and its oppressive suspense causing all kinds of horrible scenarios to spawn in his head. Maybe Pirin has had a bad vision last night, a prophetic dream about the children, warning of their demise or getting severely hurt? Maybe something's about to go wrong back home with Alsa? Or something bad is going to befall the two of them during the trek? The faintly mumbled 'I don't have a good feeling.' that the magister gave him upon finally being prompted only confirmed Soren's worries.

And then a strange new sensation crept on him-- A resurgence in power, in strength that's not normal. As a purple ray enveloped his form, the sensation grew and grew. What the ursine son of the desert assumed to be the Dusk Lord's blessing flaring up from within him, turned out to be something else entirely and separate.

All fatigue, needs, evaporated along with the possibility of ever dying one day--Be it of old age or other ways. Immortal.

Somehow, in that second--Soren distinctly knew that the chance of ever aging at all beyond his current years has been ripped away from him. Never to be given back.

The world would keep going on and change, and he'd stay at teen age for all eternity. Even as the years still take their toll on his mind. And then the 'Truth' coldly stared him in the face like the blackhole it is, resulting in a flurry of questions from him, each meeting its reluctant answer.

The last one was a hard kick to the gut, the full merciless, cold, brunt of the secret the night jinni has been so adamantly coveting to himself. For all their sakes.

—"What are you rattling about?! How're we not real?? How're our lives- WHAT??" -He had ranted and lashed out in total denial, disbelief, pacing back and forth around their campfire for the night. Suddenly, Pirin's voice was grating to his ears and he couldn't stand him, the desert, everything- Overwhelmed, furious and terrified.

Lost.

A soft voice calls his name gently, an attempt to calm him down from his spiraling panic. Pirin had tried to carefully reel him back.

—"Soren.." It didn't work. It only made his mind latch on harder, denial and shock fighting over. Fur bristled and ears flattened back, pupils narrowed to slits in sheer wounded rage as he sharply comes to a stop, snapping, yells. Wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, a thunderous war cry until he has no breath left, angrily waving his hands around in frantic and enraged gesturing.

—"No! No way! You can't just- What about my clan? What about Pops?? Was all that just a lie all along!?"

"..."

The mournful silence only stoked his rage--grief and confusion. Terror. Helplessness.

Heaving and staring at the other man, with quick stomping strides--Soren reaches his friend in no time. Standing at his full, imposing height- he grabs the 'magister' by the shoulders with a bruising rough grip. His knuckles had turned white, whole form shaking as everything gets to a boiling point too much to bear. ...So the warrior of the newly infamous clan lets it out, bellows with all his might. A howl for help of a lost, scared man unable to hold it together and stay stoic and quiet. Boys--Men--Don't cry. Crying is for women, babies, helpless and the weaklings. He's neither of those. Should've grit his teeth harder, dealt with it on his own- Should've been strong, stayed strong. Should've persevered through this and won. So Soren roared, gave his best, most ferocious war cry. Hot, bitter tears had welled at the corners of his eyes. The former Grimmaw child was too caught up in his rage to notice and blink them back or wipe them away. They roll down his cheeks and chin as his voice cracks.

—"ANSWER ME!"

"...I'm sorry."

...And Soren, eldest orphan of the Uru clan, former son of the late Grimmaw clan's chieftain, crumbled to smithereens. Crushed under the burden's weight too heavy for his shoulders to bear.

That night, Soren wept like a weak, pathetic, helpless pansy. Like the terrified and lost little boy he felt, held in the vampire's arms. Throughout it all, 'Merlin' patiently stayed quiet, letting him cry, and he clung onto the shorter pallid man desperately in his sobbing. Eventually he had no more tears to shed, drained. Listlessly listened to all the tender comforting nothings the felled star murmured faintly.

In the end, each and every one of them had to pull it together and shake off the pain that the Truth brings. Oddly enough, there are some who deliberately try to actively put themselves into the sun's grasp and wake up.

—"I find it rather fascinating and mystifying." One of the half-bearfolk man's ear twitches twice, tuning into Cassadee's continued muttering. "From what has been observed and described of their behaviors, the two entities appear to have assumed distinct roles outside of their respective baseline. Namely, of 'child' and 'adult'--Ioan or 'Pirin' is the evident adult of the duo with the typical traits of that stage. Maturity on both emotional and intellectual level, behavioral basis, responsibility, nurture and guidance, empathy, understanding. Think of a parent or older sibling. 'Rila' in contrast lacks awareness- Innocent, curious, possesses the heartless cruelty present due to lacking understanding of importance, among other traits of childhood."

The Uru warrior and purple-eyed Solitaire exchange a look, mildly dubious.

—"What puzzles me is the line that Berial said at the beginning: "Two sides of the same coin." I'm inclined to interpret his words at face-value as both seem to be the same entity."

—"That's all fine and dandy, except for the fact that Rila clearly knows what she's doing." The two mages look up at Soren. "I've seen her appear in the desert and go on a rampage, just 'cause she got bored. She knew people would loose their minds when telling them of what we know. Knew it damn well and didn't care, still kept going."

The incident still itches at his mind. The only solution to the crisis was to rush to find Pirin and ask him for help. Ask him to fix the umpteenth catastrophic mess his demonic 'half' is wreaking onto the Ashen Wastes. Because that fiend is far too dangerous to charge at on his own and the chances of getting swept up are high.

A look of apprehension if not dread settles onto Merlin's former students. Valen and Fay stiffen.

—"..W-why..? Why would Rila do something like this?" -It's the colorful dancer's voice that breaks the tense quiet. Still trying to assume the best and give the better of the doubt. —"Because it's 'fun' to watch their reactions and if or how insane they'd go. Her words. Those people are simply playthings for her, like we are." Ignoring how that thing also made literal jaws rise from the ground to eat some of the Maulers and Lightbearers while terrorizing them, laughing maniacally with zero remorse or guilt. Jaws with gnarly teeth, hands. Surprisingly nobody died...physically. Internally? A lot.

It's the whole point as to why the decision was made to convince Merlin of freeing Phraesto and teaming up with plus the other two Hypogeans. Since that day, the Illusionist often acts as a lookout--Warning against that menace the second he spots or senses her presence in the desert. ..And then proceeds to nope out, jump right back into the Dusk Lord's tomb to avoid getting his scorpion hair seriously tangled into a tizzy like last time. Along with having his eyes gauged out in the most sadistic way possible and messed up 'til he can't see straight.

Whatever mind torture Rila did to that Hypogean must've been something else to make him that scared.

Same as Berial--The mouthy lil brat acts as an alarm system and lookout for Holistone and Rustport. In short, for the Lightbearers. And Reinier covers the Wilders' turf. Lookouts and decoys to keep that terror busy while one of the team members goes to fetch 'Merlin'.

Not fool-proof but works, for now.

Although it was a bit funny how the Seaside savant went about the issue that time Rila popped up in his hometown--Already in her dragon, shadowy Hypogean creepy form, ready to cause mayhem. The man had just sighed in exasperation, got a broom since he had one on-hand, and shooed off the thing, like it's a typical Monday. Completely unbothered. A reckless idea. Thankfully, he lived.

Regular day in ye old Rustport, the intel-broker having been assigned by his employer to sweep one of the warehouses of the Carmine Whispers. (With the promise to be paid fairly, of course.) So there Sinbad was, minding his business with sturdy old broom in hand, whistling a happy little tune to himself--Until the distinct sense of deja vu struck. Pausing in his diligent work to investigate, a pair of nice, glowy hot-pink orbs stared right back at him. With utmost curious, diabolical glee.

A particular little 'rat' that has been skittering around town lately and stirring up troubles, almost flipping Rustport on its head...literally. Yup, there the shady lizard is, sitting in the corner with a huge grin and ogling shamelessly. This is the fifteenth time this week, the wretched terror making at least five back-to-back visits each day--Popping in and out not unlike Berial. Except this one doesn't warn at all. That jester at least makes a noise to announce his presence.

Sure enough, the pesky menace is already doing her creepy nonsense--Jaws wide open, teeth growing and twisting, falling out with lil' tissue and blood in the cracks on 'em, eyeballs expanding and shrinking, rolling in their sockets sloowly then fast. The whole horror movie nine yards. Those kinds of shenanigans would've freaked out anyone else, however he wasn't buying it. It's been done soo many times by now, that he's gotten desensitized. Or maybe has gone off the deep end himself somewhere along the way. With a tired sigh, already so done with this bullshit-- The blond sailor steps towards the stupid 'rat' calmly, gesturing for it to go away with his free hand .

—"Alright, get lost. C'on, shoo." The grinning devil crawls up the wall, head turned three hundred-sixty degrees and lolling as it does. Like a centipede or cockroach. Naturally, he tries to swat at it with the broom to get it down. Maybe kill the troublesome fiend, if he swings hard enough. Outer being or not, that little brat has no business in the warehouse or in town.

"There's nothing for you here, get lost. Get." Unfortunately Rila moved too fast and scuttled right up to the ceiling. Drooling.

Some of that disgusting slime falls on his scarf, the same one that his foster mothers had gifted him on his coming of age ceremony. Glancing down at it, the orphan frowns as he attempts to wipe the sludge off but to no avail. (Oh great, just great.) Looking back up, just in time to see another drop of drool fall and step aside, holding the broom like a weapon. "Don't jump on my head."

And then the thing crawls across the ceiling, scuttling over to the window and outside to jump on someone else's apparently. Already whispering incessantly the great cosmic secrets and cackling. Realizing that hell's about to break loose--Again-- with full Armageddon, he drops the broom and hurries out the door to (hopefully) find that lizard and cut her off before rifts the size of blackholes start appearing all over the place.

A scream of terror echoes.

Too late.

(Should've thought this through better. Note to self: Trap the devil next time. (Or at least try.) )

Another scream, another rift. The weather was starting to act funny. Things were getting downhill fast and soon someone might even die.

—"Sinbad!" (-And a very peeved Sonja would bite my head off, it seems.) There the curly-haired mafia woman is with Lucca at her side and a bunch of Whispers, already at the scene right as he arrives at the elevator. Another rift tears itself dangerously close to them. In front of them, the endless maddening whispering skittering about it and all the other rifts ripped into reality's fabric.

All across their humble crime-ruled spot of the world. It's like Rila's everywhere at once. Judging by the confused, mildly unsettled looks that flash in the gang's eyes, the chatter is beginning to take its toll. "Don't look or listen to those! Go back inside, too dangerous!" Assuming (hoping and praying) that the blasted devil hasn't left some nice rifts in the manor as well.

"Retreat!" --The scarred rouge calls over his shoulder to them without looking back as he continues to rush, finding Pirin being top priority. The only one who can put a stop to this and fix it. Miraculously, it didn't take long- the faux Magister hanging by the docks of the lower residential district.

—"Devil's back. Help." -He chokes out between catching his breath, struggling not to panic as seconds tick by with the damage getting more devastating. Doesn't need to see Pirin's face to know the man's frowning tiredly in annoyance at his 'half' and her antics. The star's eerily quiet tenor is flat, stern. Gracefully uncrosses his legs and gets up to his feet, turning to walk towards him. A simple question. A gesture for him to slow down and breathe.

—"Where." —"Upper district. Moved from there to the docks or plaza." Targeting crowded places.

In a blink Pirin vanishes and Sinbad races right over there after him, hoping to be of help. Somehow. Arrives right on time to see Rila get mercilessly shot down with sharp needle-like blades made of crystalline flames, connected by thin silk-like threads of that magic that wrap around the dragon's thrashing form. Held to the ground, jaws clamped shut by the threads.

No negotiations, no patient gentleness or attempt at reason like the several times before. Straight to tracking, hunting down and kicking her out. Seizing the trouble-maker by the scruff, Pirin drags the caught being towards the newly ripped rift as it gets morphed into a portal- And throws her into it, closing the rift.

Footsteps and easy-flowing banter draw the small group's attention to the tree-line of the veiled Haunted forest to see the two love-birds returning. The lively savvy swindler sauntering by his partner's side calmly, having already left the topic alone and moved on to less serious matters. The fallen star on the other hand seems to be still thinking something over, likely ironing out some of its kinks out and finalizing it in his mind. A plan.

For the hundredth time, Valen's heart skips at the sight of his former charge and a spike of bitter jealousy--Envying that rascal's mad luck. It gets followed up by a pang of inquisitive buzz of excitement and nervousness as the hare-brained idea that has been secretly brewing in the back of his mind, crawls back.

I really am an avaricious brat, aren't I?

Not sure if either one or both would be interested... But it is worth putting out on the table.

—"Hookay. I'll keep this nice and short: I got a hoodwink to help with the 'Devil' problem." Instantly the goofy idea falls to the far backburner, the knight's attention fully directed at the incarnated wandering spirit along with everyone else around the fire.

Funny how they all look like kids in class, ears sharp when listening to the cool and/or favorite teacher. Or meerkats on the lookout.

"Upsides- You get a part of my magic to keep plus abilities, and a way to counter the menace on your own. Drawbacks? This plan is in testing and I'll need to work very closely with you to see if and what needs to be ironed out. I.e, more frequent meetings and having to recall how your attempts went in detail plus how you are being affected. No skipping." Mirael smiles as the two younger mages' eyes light up at the prospect, same as Sinbad's. Soren stays quiet, mulling the offer and weighing it carefully while Valen looks one step away from casually accepting it. Sure it will be more work and business meetings, but how can he possibly complain when it's Pirin?

—"I volunteer to be Holistone's representative." -He declares confidently with a raise of his hand, giving Fay a cheeky smirk as the geomancer calls 'Veto!' shortly after, pouting at having been beaten to the chance. Meanwhile the Scarlet witch doesn't appear fussed with missing out on the opportunity, content to observe as the two siblings squabble a bit.

—"Valen! I could improve my gem magic with his guidance!" -An unhappy Hail moon star whines, earning herself a playful retort from her older brother which makes her huff. This is a once-in a lifetime chance! Merlin is powerful, without a doubt- But it's apparent that Pirin has a lot more to offer in terms of magic, guidance, knowledge and wisdom due to being a long-lived spirit that has experienced plenty! (Barring the four other lifetimes of his or the other worlds he has visited.)

—"Sorry, Fay- Early bird gets the worm~! Besides, you're already busy studying under the Magister." In all seriousness, both of them know that the woman will find plenty of other opportunities. Still doesn't stop her from pouting though. "Still not fair..." The elite knight sticks his tongue out childishly with a smile and she does the same with a scowl of feigned frustration. Then they laugh at the silliness.

The Empire is quite the territory to cover.

—"I volunteer to represent the capitol!" -Cassadee's quiet, soft-spoken voice rings out next without hesitation, seizing the unique chance like a dark horse. The volunteer for the coastal side is obvious. Which leaves the desert areas and the Wilders' territories alongside Remnant Peak.. Pirin silently observes, not fully surprised people are jumping to accept the plan. And then Merlin's apprentice chimes in, catching the present off-guard, her choice of territory even more so. Soren's ears perk up and twitch twice, visible bafflement and surprise on his face at the proclamation.

—"I volunteer for the Eroded Enclaves!" There's a bright grin on Fay's oval visage, and a gleam of fierce determined competition. Refusing to give up. Almost as though the two mages are having a competition. Makes the brunette's main motive for this endeavor curious..Sure, her desire to get better at gem magic and prove a point is there, absolutely. However there's an odd sense that there's bit more than that to her resolve, maybe trying to impress someone with how well she mastered her 'feeble', blooming magic..

A gleam of surprise, concern but also pride and inquisitiveness flickers in the white-haired scholar's sky-blue gaze as she glances at her. And then gets tiny bit shy and looks back to the 'dutiful moon'.

Her brother gives her a mildly concerned look, knowing how unforgiving the desert is. It took him a good half a year to adjust while traveling with the 'Magister' and the Uru siblings, during the Song of Strife escapades. Even then, he had just barely started getting used to the climate.

—"Are you sure?" The answer was immediate and resolute. —"Yes."

—"I'll cover the Ashen Wastes." -Soren's baritone voice slides in next flatly, finally making up his mind. Pirin gives a clipped nod, turning his eyes to the only person whom hasn't spoken up.

—"Mirael? Your thoughts?"

The former Lyceum pioneer student waves the offer off with a simple smile, not interested in taking part. It's fine to sit back and watch from sideline, lend a helping hand here and there. There's enough work of watching over Ryeham and burning down hypofiends, driving them away anyway. Plus taking care of Merlin so the notorious Arch-mage doesn't do something too reckless or overwork himself. The little hamsters aren't enough, busy with maintaining the Mystical House and keeping it pristine, alongside with caring for the Giga with Dolly.

—"Thank you, but I'll pass. I'm helping my dear Magister at the House. However I can pass him a message, if you wish?"

—"Yes, please do. Let Merlin know I'll need the Hall of Resonance for the meetings....Also, a friendly reminder to go outside for a few minutes now and then. Thanks, Mirae." At this, Mirael offers back a nod in acknowledgement paired with a muted chuckle at the last quip. Certainly will be sure to pass on the message. Rising from the log and lowering the campfire's intensity, the curvaceous lady gives a playful salute... And with that, the red-head graciously leaves the clearing. Soon enough the desert tribe's secondary chief also takes his leave to find the nearest waystone and teleport home. Probably has sensed the 'odd' jittery tension that hangs around his knightly teammate and didn't want to have to deal with the awkward situation pending. Which leaves just the captain and the two lovebirds by the dimming fire. And if he doesn't act fast, it'll be only him by himself.

Sitting on the log by the fire and staring into the embers, twiddling his thumbs absently, the dazzling player keeps oddly quiet for a few seconds, lost in thought. Is this really a good idea? Maybe leaving the two alone would be better...Glancing up from around his fringe at the duo as they walk past him, the high-ranking solder feels his confidence dim slightly, watching them banter easily. Not quite listening to what they're exchanging, but the tone is chipper, playful and breezy with a few jokes and friendly-fire quips sprinkled.

Plus a lovey-dovey flirtatious subtext to the mock 'bickering' and the sweet affectionate lilt underneath it all. Basically what some might call 'a married old couple'.

And here he is-- Possibly 'bout to butt in like some annoying third wheel. Most likely. What's worse is that Pirin, the poor sweetheart he is, would feel bad as if leaving him out...

Seriously, how is it that the guy is clever enough to come up with good battle plans and analysis--And yet be so dense? Not like the vampire's faking it either. Unless the flirting is slightly above subtle, bit more direct--then he won't catch on. Just assume the other person's being affectionate, especially when it comes to the people he views as his friends, or 'homies' like some of the youngsters like to say.

Absolutely ride or die, will drop everything to come and help anyone of them out, stick it through to the end come hell or high water. But by the dear Goddess is it frustrating, trying to get the point across without being obnoxious.

For a whole week, he's been trying to say 'Hey! I'm into you!'--Dinners (that never got to actually happen. The doll was always busy with Merlin duties or other work.), flirting and playfulness.. Which in hindsight probably looked like typical Valen shmoozer bravado. But the gifts should've been some hint! Right?? I mean, come on! Who else does that? ...Oh, wait- Fay and the Wilders crew have also sent him gifts. And the Uru clan, too. Also Marilee and Mirael from time to time. And Magister Merlin.

Suddenly Valen feels like a fool.

Taking all of this into account, no wonder his behavior gets mixed up. It doesn't help that literally every time he's tried to ask the wanderer on a date face to face, something always cropped up--Either the general got a new mission, or something else duty-related that can't wait or he'd be swamped with paperwork in the office. Or the annual meeting of the Solitaires has come and he didn't notice, as a result having to rush, beeline for the capitol like a madman.

Meanwhile Sinbad has only very recently joined their little squad and is a friend, yes.. Just not quite 'a homie' yet. And none of that crap. Lucky bastard devil.

"I think I figured out why Sonja was never interested in me."

"Hm? Why?"

" 'Cause she already had eyes on her bodyguard and got with him." "Really??"

"Aye. Can't miss 'em. I was just too tunnel-visioned to notice it."

—"Never really thought the lady had it in her, to be honest. She always comes across to me as too busy-not interested in romance."

—"Ha. The irony." Pirin lightly swats at his shoulder with a small laugh and a half-hearted 'Oh shut it.', the two of them almost passing by the slouched over troubled knight.

Valen's forlorn, gloomy face catches the vampire's attention and he halts, a scowl of mild apprehension settling onto his features. Unhooking his arm from his sailor's, the ghostly 'siren' pads back, causing the other to pause and look back at him with a look of slight confusion. Then his brown eyes land on the brooding Solitaire and it clicks in his head. The scarred intel-trader calmly rejoins his siren's side.

—"Valyo? You alright?" -A breathless tenor snaps Valen out of his thoughts, almost jumping out of his skin. (Barely registers the silly nickname of endearment. It came up as a half-joke that stuck around similar to 'Romeo' and 'Prince Charmer'. 'Val' and 'Vale' or 'Knave', too.) Followed by a tenor an octave lower and more rugged yet no less worried, echoing in wary agreement.

Understandable, given how often the 'sun' has been terrorizing and the corruption she's known to inflict. Sometimes out of the blue, with no clue it's there until it gets more severe. Can't catch a break these days. —"Yup, you seem off. Everything good?" Their voices honestly startled him for a good second--Only to notice the two mildly concerned pearly and rum-like irises of his friends, Pirin's gloved hand resting on his shoulder. Whatever spiteful courage had come up instantly whizz out, leaving the light-armored charmer a sudden nervous wreck. Partially out of internal panic incoming at having been caught red-handed, realizing he's drawn attention to himself and at being left breathless from the sight.

Now or never. Now or never. Here goes nothing. Blinking, Valen hurries to quickly straighten out his posture and cover it up with a cough, silently having fingers crossed he doesn't burn bridges in this moment of truth. They'd find out eventually one way or another. ..doesn't make it anymore easy.

—"Yes! Yes, I'm fine! Don't worry for me! I was just...thinking, over something." -The handsome playboy knight answers back with a smile that comes across as more nervous instead of his usual. Well that didn't sound suspicious at all. Judging by the looks on his two companions, neither was convinced by his half-sputter. Running a hand through his wavy hair and keeping it on his nape, a slight grimace crosses his angular face, knowing he's just cornered himself and no backpedaling will save him.

"Alright, fine- I've been having a hare-brained idea for some time that keeps nagging me." Another feeble attempt at leaving a backdoor to weasel out of.

—"Just spill the beans already. We promise we won't laugh- We're all crackheads in this team." -That the hardy coastal swindler promptly shuts with a prompt of affable humor. "Right, Vanya?" The man shorter than the two of them, hums cheerily with a light smile.

Two against one? Not very fair.

Looks like the inner conflicting dilemma is done with, now that there's nowhere to run under the duo's expectant gaze. And so the poor outnumbered solder caves in with 'Just don't get mad and hear me out.' muttered under his breath, barely above a whisper.

—"Here's the thing: I've had a crush on our 'Magister' since I first saw him when General Hogan assigned me as his escort." -He begins, the campfire's dying embers weakly illuminating him, ignoring the simple "Cool." from Rusport's notorious intel-gatherer. Doesn't make a big deal out of the confession, casual smirk still present with a brief raise of the burly brows. However the subtle glimmer is there, a silent warning. Valen presses on, raising his hands in defense as a 'Chill out', keeping his tone even. As for Pirin, the spirit doesn't appear too excited, nor judgmental.

—"I've tried to express my interest several times, however something always happened. It was like a curse! And recently the idea of polyamory appeared in my mind, haunting me since relentlessly--It's fairly popular in the capital. So I guess I'm curious to hear your thoughts on perhaps giving it a try..? See if it works?"

Sinbad's breezy smirk has faded, hands on hips in what can be interpreted as mild disapproval. Definitely not enthusiastic about the idea, not quite annoyed either. Not very happy in any case.

Pirin's owl-like grey eyebrows pinch together subtly into a pout of mild confusion and uncertainty. Reluctant, weighing and doing a thorough analysis in his mind. Sorting out his thoughts on the matter and carefully putting them in a cohesive order. Likely also attempting to make sense of the ordeal, what to even make of it. One way or the other, it's plain obvious he'd stick with his 'Jolly sailor Bold'. Doesn't hurry to respond, fallen into 'observer mode', gathering as many perspectives to reflect in hopes of getting the bigger picture. So the blond easily slides in, keeping his voice level-headed. Neutral. As though humoring him with a hypothetical scenario. And blunt, not very convinced.

—"I guess we could. 'Don't knock it 'til you try it' as they say." Not flat out rejection.. "You might find yourself drowned in trouble, though- Given our track record as magnets for it." Then goes straight for the throat, using humor as friendly teasing. Beneath it, the note of sternness isn't lost on Valen. And it makes sense. Still doesn't make it more pleasant to be voiced aloud, however.

"Jokes aside- I doubt this thing would pan out. I think it's obvious we're both attracted to Pirin here, not each other. So it's really less of a 'polyamory' and more of a 'triangle'. To me- this whole thing sounds like a free pass to third-wheel us, no offense."

—"None taken, fair enough. Then I suppose that's a 'no' from you?" -The lilac-eyed Solitaire quips somewhat defensively, making the other man bristle a little. A flash of teeth not too unlike a dog.

What do you see in this con artist Vanyusha? —"Hey! If it was, I would've said so! Don't put words into my mouth, yeah?"-Then finishes in a calmer tone of low, clear tenor, gesturing with a hand- palm up. Kind of like a shrug. "I'm just laying my cards on the table, that's all." Maybe putting this suggestion out there truly wasn't the best idea after all. The fishy hustler has made a very good point- It probably won't work. They'd be at each other's throat more like rivals while trying to hide it under witty banters and mock spars, to make it seem like just horsing around in front of their shared partner.

Or maybe we'd get along swimmingly once I get used to Sinbad's particular bluntness and much sharper humor, crass or bit obnoxious as it is, due to our culture and lifestyle disparity.

Shoulders relaxing, the adventurous street-rat glances down at his partner, expression softening slightly along with his voice that takes a quiet note. That same gentleness that Valen envies and yearns for at the same time--Love. Simple, sincere, unconditional and unwaveringly lasting.

Once again bias strikes: How can this perpetually coinless, messy and unrefined, stinking scoundrel who greedily relies on the generosity of others, have attained what he has been struggling to grasp for weeks & longer?

What does Pirin see in this rouge, that he doesn't have or can't offer?

Chances are I look like a frivolous fop to the intel-trader in turn. Vanya has his reasons. I'm simply being jealous.

Still stings.

"Besides, I'm not the one who calls the shots solo." Let's hear Pirin's two cents on this.

—"...I'm not sure this would work either, but am willing to try-If, heavily tentative. What bothers me is that you would be--or feel like being unwanted or unwelcome when there comes a day where..." Falters, pauses for a quick second to get his thoughts organized.

By this point, most of the team is aware of him being a vampire and the little 'kinks' that come alongside it aside from the specialized diet. Namely, the whole bonding 'issue' which doesn't allow for polyamory on a biological level...and also psychological to a very large extent.

Something that's taken incredibly seriously, as a vampire's bonded partner- Is literally that individual's life-long partner with no return or cheating. The very reason why vampires had gone down in numbers faster than fairies did in the span of a single century during the slaughter.

"I inevitably have to bond, and will choose Sinbad. Once that point arrives, the arrangement would be rendered null, its purpose defeated. Or this is my perspective on the matter, at the very least." Looking up from the grass of the clearing and embers, the deeply contemplative look in his irises remains as he meets those of his former knight.

—"..Unless you are okay, knowing this...? Also- Isn't polyamory heavily frowned upon in Holistone? Seen as immoral and promiscuous?"

—"While I admit it does sting, I would still be content with being your partner. Even if secondary." And on the off-chance the 'arrangement' falls apart--I'd be fine with being simply both your friend and wingman. At least then I'd know I tried instead of running away. Carefully, the former mercenary takes one of the spirit's hands in his own.

"As for whether it's scorned in Holistone- It is, unfortunately. However, who says the people have to know our private affairs anyway? We can simply say we're close friends and tone down the intimacy a notch when in public, get away with the excuse. At most, the three of us would be deemed as eccentrics in a way.

Give it some time, and polyamory will gradually begin to be seen as something mundane rather than a big deal, maybe an eyeroll or crass jab here and there."

—"So we're all on the same page then?" -The Seaside savant chimes in all too casually, startling his siren out of his thoughts. Valen wrestles with himself to not get jealous- again- as the tanned Captain places his hands on the 'Magister's' hips, resting his chin on the other's shoulder. These two are already pretty much an established couple, it's him who's shaken up the status quo here. It's normal for them to be intimately romantic with each other.

Envy still doesn't listen to rationality, however.

It only merely flares up as Pirin relaxes and lightly leans back, a soft smile of sweet amused fondness playing on his lips, reaching a hand to affectionately ruffle the sailor's messy hair. Or when he cards his fingers through it, smoothing back the adventurer's bangs, out of his face with care.

"Good-'Cause I wanna make one thing clear. No threesomes, no negotiations." The snowy-haired much shorter man halts his ministrations with a look of surprise on his soft face, absolutely red. Sputters, or squeaks out a very embarrassed 'Sinbad! Can't just blurt it out!' under his hitched breath. The swindler's hands lightly squeeze his sharp hips in response as wordless apology.

—"Fair enough- I wouldn't have asked for it either."

Romance has always somehow made him bit squeamish, or maybe more like the notion of full commitment to someone. Either way, there's something about engaging in sexual acts with multiple partners that simply...doesn't click with him.

Fooling with, romancing multiple people and bedding them, are two different stories.

Although you could have worded it a smidge more tactfully rather than blurting it out. And because he can't resist being his usual cheeky self, Valen goes on to playfully tease.

—"I suppose that makes me your second boyfriend with financial benefits, then." A snort. The three of them start to walk up the trail back to Southville after ensuring the dead embers don't cause another wildfire.

As they saunter up the worn, downtrodden trail leading back to the village, the nocturnal being forces himself to pad at a steadier pace. While his partners stride at his sides with leisurely gait, enjoying the scenery. Until their love couldn't take it anymore and briskly sauntered up ahead a few steps then paused to wait for them, falling back relatively in-step.

Valen loops an arm around his..their? boyfriend's shoulder, pulling the restless ball of energy close, inwardly noting how calm his 'rival' is about it. Full trust, not a speck of jealousy or possessive protectiveness. Instead the dust-blond is perfectly fine with retorting in matching lark, holding the vampire's hand calmly, fingers laced.

—"Sure, if you don't mind paying the bill."

—"Don't threaten me with a good time, Sinbad." —"You two mind the rounds, or you're getting to snore in the garden."

And the two trouble-makers quickly pin this warning in mind, knowing well it's not an empty threat.

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witchthewriter · 2 years ago

Photo

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: mentions of dead bodies, violence

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑆𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘.

The men had driven off before Jax reached you, yet you could still feel your heart pumping quickly. You knew this job came with risks, but you were the clean up crew, and didn’t get involved in the politics.

“Zo! Zo, you okay?” You were so zoned out that you didn’t hear him. It was like your mind was working overdrive. The thoughts and ‘what ifs’ going around and around in your head – chasing each other. Wondering if now you were … fucked.

Running over to your door, he opened it and checked your body, gently moving your head side to side; looking for signs of a wound.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, mentally crawling out of the whirlwind that was currently your mind.

It wasn’t until you looked into Jax’s eyes that your attention fully returned. You looked at his face, seeing the faded freckles, tanned skin and beard stubble. This was closest you had been to him. So close that you could smell the cigarette on his breath.

The smell brought you back to the other night, outside the crematorium when Jax was waiting for you. He’d told Happy to go home, that he could take it from here. The usual duty of making sure you got home safe always went to Happy, who didn’t mind the late nights. Well, technically the very early mornings.

You had locked the door, turned around and nearly jumped out of your skin. You weren’t expecting it, another person to be so close. Happy always stayed at least 2 arm lengths away from you at all times, even when you walked back to the car. There was no reason for it, you just guessed he was trying to be respectful - or seem like less of a threat.

Jax had only just put out his cigarette and he was already smirking. You knew exactly why.

“I finished in time because of my skills, not because of anything else, Teller.”

“Hey, I didn’t say a goddamn thing.” He shrugged his shoulders, only making your knees go weaker. But gods be damned if you’d let him know how much he effects you.

He was silent as he walked you to his car, the familiar crunch of boots on gravel filled your ears. Crickets chirping in time, and if you looked into the distance, you’d be able to see two wolves in the fields next to the woods.

As your finger lingered over the unlock button, Jax suddenly said, “Thank you.”

Your cheeks warmed.

“You don’t need to thank me, “ you said and pressed the button. Your car clicked and you reached for the handle, “I get paid, remember.”

Jax chuckled at your response, pulling on his helmet and clipping it underneath his chin.

“I want to say thank you anyway, this job ain’t easy.”

You knew he was referring to your job, but there was a something else in his voice that told you he meant more. That there was something deeper in his comment.

Guilt.

Anger.

Grief.

You were impressed by how well Jax was acting. Not just with you but with … well everyone. The death of his wife, it would ruin anyone. But it was like Jax had steel armour on at all times. That steel armour wasn’t just for his heart, but for every part of being a person. For his thoughts, his interactions, his opinions.

It was that armour that stopped you from getting deeper.

So, the jokes, the banter, the back and forth … it’s all he could muster up. And maybe that’s all your relationship would be with Jax; teasing and playful. A distraction.

- ✦ -

“Time for clean up?” Was all you said as you saw the other Sons.

“Ugh, yeah, you okay?” Happy replied, concern lacing every area of his tone. You and Happy had created this sibling-like friendship. The scary looking biker acted as your older brother, it sometimes meant him not saying much to you but always making sure you knew he was there. You guessed this was one of those times, except the way his President was acting was putting him on edge. It was putting all the Sons on edge.

It wasn’t until you heard the Scotsman that things started making sense.

“We were double-crossed, sorry you got swept up in that, sweetheart.”

And then they all moved as one cohesive movement. The Sons got on their bikes, strapped their helmets on, Happy walked over to the driver’s side of the van and hopped in.

It only took a minute to reach the warehouse that was used as the meet-up. But what you saw made you gasp.

You counted nine men, each laying in different positions. Blood soaked and lifeless. You had seen horrors, you had seen crime scenes, hell you had even listened to the most grizzly podcasts. Maybe it was because of before; your heart still pumping in your chest.

So, your shock turned to anger, not at the reasons why these men were dead but the blatant lie you had been told. As each member arrived, your anger grew and grew.

“A few men-“ you said, getting out of the car and slamming the door. “I was told, a few men.”

“Look sweetheart, if you can’t handle-“ Jax started to say, looking at you through his black sunglasses. A similar pair were pushed upwards on your head, keeping your hair out of your face.

“I can handle the dead fucking bodies. But I wasn’t told how fucking many there would be!” Your hands reflected your speech; animated, emphasising your words. “But I’m in this now. So, you’ll stop calling me sweetheart. My name is Zo. And you won’t leave out fucking details when I ask about them.”

The words came out as fierce as fire raging through a forest. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and listened. No one dared whistle, nor make any sort of movement (or comment).

Funnily enough it was Juice who spoke first, “she’s right. We’ve trusted her with everything so far.” The core Sons nodded in agreement while Jax rolled his eyes.

He walked up the dried grassy plane, kicking dirt behind him with each step.

Jax’s voice was low, gravelly. His accent so prevalent as he spoke, “once you agree to this, there’s no turning back. You’re apart of this now.”

It took three heartbeats for you to respond. His gaze not leaving your own.

“I’m a part of this.”

- ✦ -

With the amount of Sons present, it didn’t take long to hoist the bodies into the van and drive off. Happy was silent, one hand on the wheel and the other flicking through radio stations. You lit up a cigarette, taking a drag every time Happy scoffed and turn over the channel.

“They talk so much shit,” he complained, settling on a station that had just finished playing a Johnny Cash song.

“Who? The Sons or the radio presenters?” You said while blowing the smoke from the corner of your mouth. The window was down – just a crack; it wasn’t allowed down anymore than that. Wouldn’t want to attract too much attention in traffic. Even if you did take the backroads.

“I meant these radio shitheads, but Tig could talk the ear off of a deaf guy.”

You scoffed but didn’t disagree.

There was a beat of heavy silence. Unsaid words lingering in the air – from both of you.

Funnily enough, it was Happy who cracked first.

“You mean it? You really want to be apart of the club? Because that’s what this means. Doing more jobs, being told intel.”

You took another drag, a big breathe in and let the smoke gather before blowing it out.

“I guess so.”

And then something switched in Happy that caught you off guard. He hardened. His tone going an octave deeper, harsher.

“There’s no guessing, Zo. You’re either in or you’re out. Skeeter has ties to the club but he doesn’t ask for information. He just lets things be. You can still do that, but something tells me you ain’t gonna.”

Y ou didn’t expect such a big brother speech from Happy. Yes, you had that type of relationship, but he was never harsh with you.

“Okay maybe I do want to get deeper into the club? Why is everyone trying to push me out? I don’t have family out here, I’ve been on my own for years. I work in a fucking crematorium for fucksake.”

You threw the cigarette out the window and wound it back up. The anger was still palpable and Happy was not helping.

You hadn’t opened up about your family in … years. Not to Skeeter, not to any of the Sons. You only said they lived out of state and that was the end of it. You had your dogs and that was enough for you. But lately you wanted more. You wanted someone … more.

- ✦ -

The drive back to the crematorium was silent. Even the radio was switched off after five minutes. Nothing good was being played anyway.

What you didn’t expect, was to see a particular Harley sitting in the parking lot. It’s rider leaning against it, taking slow draws out of his cigarette.

“Didn’t think Jax would be here,” Happy said, parking and pulling up the handbrake.

“Me either,” was all you said before jumping out of the passenger seat and taking out your keys. Practically ignoring the President of the club, you unlocked the garage doors and pulled them upwards.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other, and pretended as though you didn’t care. Even though inside you were desperate to hear the conversation. In a manner of moments you heard your name being called and you moved out of the way to let the van back up into the garage.

“Yep, yep, a little further,” Happy was good enough to direct Jax so you left them and unlocked the doors to the incinerator. Looking around you saw everything in its place, Skeet must’ve been in already. He likes keeping everything ‘proper’, not that you don’t, but he takes it to a new level.

You wheeled out the stretchers, and watched as Happy opened the doors to the back of the van.

“I thought the President of the Sons of Anarchy would have more important things to do,” you said to Jax, pulling the body onto the stretcher.

A side of his mouth quirked upwards, “just getting back to my roots, you know. Can never forget where you started out.”

“At the bottom?” You replied, lumping another body onto the stretcher.

“Doesn’t feel like the bottom when it’s with you.” Like a leak, Jax had let the words slip from his mouth. ‘It was simple flirting, nothing more,’ you told yourself. Willing your cheeks not to go red. Maybe he’d think the blush was from the physicality of what you were doing.

“I’m gonna take these guys inside…” Happy trailed off, moving as quick as he could

(𝐿𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑦 𝑇𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝐼𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑎 𝑟𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤-𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠)

Jax’s mind was a mess of filthy thoughts and desired actions. He wanted you so badly. Even watching you now, with your hair barely out of your face, sweat gleaming off your forehead. He thought of what it would be like to be the reason you were sweating. To be the reason you were so out of breath. His mind was so engrossed in … you, that he didn’t hear what you were saying. The only thing he was focused on was your body; the tinge of red on your cheeks; the tattoo on your arm.

“Jax!” The urgency in your voice brought him out of his trance.

“Yeah,” he looked into your hazel eyes and followed your line of sight. A car and four bikes were heading up the driveway. And you knew exactly where you had seen that car before.

Everything happened so quickly.

One moment it was fine and then everything went to shit.

“Happy!” Jax called out in his gruff voice, his phone was out in a second and he was calling Chibs.

“They must have followed us here,” you said in a slight whisper.

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discar · 7 months ago

Text

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 43 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

DIVINER: And now I think Aloy is a Tenakth saint or something because you gave her the sunwing override.

β: wasnt she already a saint

MARSHAL Kotallo: She was well-respected, that is all.

FlameHairSavior: I'm still JUST well-respected, right?

MARSHAL Kotallo: Aloy. You flew overhead on the Wings of the Ten. It doesn't matter that everyone knows how you did it, it's still a miracle.

β: oh god shes an angel now isnt she

FlameHairSavior: Oh, look! A change of subject!

DIVINER: Uh, let's see...

DIVINER: There's not really all that much more interesting that happened while you were gone!

DIVINER: Tilda hated memes and French people and Minions!

β: knew that

DIVINER: Sylens loves holo-calls!

β: oh ew

Icarus: You are all savages.

HIMBO: YOU CAME BACK, SO IT'S OFFICIALLY YOUR FAULT.

ADMIN [Zo]: Please don't scare him off now.

ADMIN [Zo]: Sylens, I know I said it before, but truly, thank you for coming back. It means a lot.

Icarus: I fully intend to flee the second you people prove incable of living up to Aloy's promises.

Icarus: I am not willing to gamble with yet another malevolent AI bent on our destruction.

HIMBO: RIGHT, I HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS NEMESIS THING.

FlameHairSavior: Can they wait? We're a little busy.

HIMBO: THE REST OF US ARE JUST RIDING. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

β: were hooking up gaia

HIMBO: OH, I THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST ABOUT DONE BEFORE WE LEFT.

FlameHairSavior: We ARE just about done. Still, it takes time.

β: goota make sure we do it right

β: gotta

β: or shell wake up a blank slate and have to download everything again

FlameHairSavior: All right... that should be it.

DIVINER: Wow, that was fast!

[FlameHairSavior] has invited [GAIA] to the group

GAIA: Thank you, Aloy, Beta. You have both been incalcuably helpful.

FlameHairSavior: Of course.

β: sure

DIVINER: Oh no!! Now I have to go over everything that happened while you were gone again!

DIVINER: So, it started with Aloy getting kidnapped by Tilda!

DIVINER: Or rescued, technically.

GAIA: That will not be necessary. I have already read all of your Focuses and have fully assimilated everything that happened while I was gone.

HIMBO: SO... YOU CAN JUST SEE EVERYTHING WE'VE EVER DONE WHILE WEARING THESE THINGS?

GAIA: Yes.

HIMBO: GREAT.

HIMBO: THAT'S NOT CREEPY AT ALL.

β: remind me to show you space odyssey

DIVINER: Do you want him to smash everything with a hammer?

DIVINER: Because that's how you get him smashing everything with a hammer.

GAIA: 2001: A Space Odyssey is not in the media archives.

DIVINER: Mmm-hmm.

DIVINER: [SkepticalOwl.gif]

DIVINER: Let me take a look.

GAIA: I'm sorry, Alva, I can't let you do that.

GAIA: Oh dear.

ADMIN [Zo]: What?

GAIA: Alva just fell off her strider laughing.

DIVINER: I'm okay!

HIMBO: WHATEVER. CAN WE GO BACK TO NEMESIS FOR A BIT?

FlameHairSavior: Sure. What's your question?

HIMBO: I WROTE IT DOWN, ONE SECOND.

FlameHairSavior: Oh no.

HIMBO: OKAY, QUESTION ONE: WHY DID THE ZENITHS MAKE MIND COPIES IN THE FIRST PLACE? THEY WERE ALREADY IMMORTAL.

β: they wanted more

MARSHAL Kotallo: More than unaging bodies and perfect shields?

β: their shields werent perfect its just no one on this planet had enough firepower to break them

β: there was always the chance of random accidents killing them having a backup mind would mean they could just download into a new body

HIMBO: YEAH, I MUST BE MISSING SOMETHING, BECAUSE THAT STILL SOUNDS CRAZY.

Icarus: Think of it for keeping a blueprint for your favorite invention, along with all the parts required to build it. When your invention is broken or lost for whatever reason, you can build an exact copy quickly and efficiently.

HIMBO: BUT THE ORIGINAL IS STILL GONE. IF IT'S JUST A TOOL, FINE, WHATEVER, BUT IF IT'S YOU THEN IT'S A WHOLE OTHER FORGE.

β: its called the contuinity flaw and there were long arguments about it even before zero day

HIMBO: SURE, OKAY, GUESS I HAVE TO JUST ACCEPT THAT.

HIMBO: QUESTION 2: THE MIND COPY THING FAILED, RIGHT?

Icarus: Yes. The exact reason they considered it a failure is unclear, however. There are any number of possibilities. Perhaps the copies weren't perfect. Perhaps the copies were too perfect, and insisted they were the originals.

HIMBO: I KNOW I DON'T KNOW A LOT ABOUT THIS COMPUTER SLAG, BUT WHY COULDN'T THEY JUST DESTROY THE COPIES?

FlameHairSavior: Actually, I was wondering the same thing.

ADMIN [Zo]: If the copies were even slightly functional, that would be murder.

FlameHairSavior: There is no way the Zeniths cared about murder.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Even if they did, it would be easy to rationalize it as either putting down a wounded animal or killing an enemy, depending on circumstances.

GAIA: I am afraid that I have no more information than you do. Perhaps Sylens has the answer.

Icarus: There were no explicit explanations in either the extinction signal or the Zenith database. I would only be able to speculate.

FlameHairSavior: Go right ahead.

Icarus: I can only think of two reasonable possibilities: That they were continuing to test the copies to determine what went wrong, or that they were putting the copies through a series of experiments that they would never want to perform on themselves.

Icarus: Either way, it is clear they were not paying enough attention, which is why the copies were able to merge into Nemesis and escape containment.

DIVINER: Even I know how to keep a dangerous virus quarantined from the network! Surely they should have known better than to leave a data link, even a locked one!

MARSHAL Kotallo: They were masters of their world for a thousand years. I suspect they were simply overconfident and had not faced a real danger in centuries.

Icarus: I am still astounded they made such a basic mistake.

MARSHAL Kotallo: We cannot understand the depth of their overconfidence. Putting aside their technology, none of us have lived even a single century, and our lives have not been complacent. How would we relax our guards, if we were safe for hundreds and hundreds of years?

MARSHAL Kotallo: I don't think any of us have ever been truly safe for so much as a year.

DIVINER: My life was pretty calm for the most part! I mean, we had to deal with the Derangement, but things only started getting REALLY bad in the past couple years!

β: i was safe pretty much my whole life

MARSHAL Kotallo: I was including psychological torture and manipulation in the general arena of "unsafe."

β: it wasnt really torture

DIVINER: [UCDavis.WhatIsPsychologicalTorture.pdf]

β: why would you have that

DIVINER: Why wouldn't I? It's not like it takes up much space!

β: i mean because i would have thought it would be from a chinese or japanese college

DIVINER: Oh, I pretty much only have English language data on my Focus! I barely passed the foreign language courses!

FlameHairSavior: Wait, they spoke different languages across the sea? Why is everything you have in our language, then?

DIVINER: Translation software was VERY advanced by the time of the Plague, and even our relatively primitive Focuses could translate almost anything! Furthermore, English was a very common trade language, so many of the files we found had an English language option by default!

DIVINER: Foreign languages were an elective, because they were largely unnecessary!

β: dont know how i feel about that

ADMIN [Zo]: I'm not sure what you mean.

β: language shapes culture and culture shapes language

β: forcing everyone to use english seems like something is lost

MARSHAL Kotallo: Surely it is better that everyone can communicate.

β: i dont know

MARSHAL Kotallo: ...I suppose it's something to think about.

FlameHairSavior: Zo, have you reached your people yet?

HIMBO: SUBTLE SUBJECT CHANGE.

FlameHairSavior: You hush.

ADMIN [Zo]: Not quite. I've reached Plainsong, but I dismounted to walk in.

FlameHairSavior: Have you decided if you want to give them Focuses or not?

ADMIN [Zo]: I know I SHOULD.

β: there has to be at least one person you actually like among the utaru

ADMIN [Zo]: It's not that. The problem is that, no matter who I give it to, the Chorus would find out about it. Their reaction could be... unhelpful. For the time being, I will wait to see if my negotiations bear fruit.

Icarus: If your people had any wisdom, they would accept any weapon they can in this struggle.

ADMIN [Zo]: You haven't met many Utaru, have you?

Icarus: No, not particularly.

ADMIN [Zo]: Let's just say that I'm considered an aggressive firebrand.

Icarus: Why are we bothering with these people?

FlameHairSavior: Doesn't hurt to try. If things go sour, Zo can just leave.

β: yeah no need to worry about her safety with the pacifists

MARSHAL Kotallo: Do not underestimate the value of Utaru farmlands, and Utaru farmers to work them.

MARSHAL Kotallo: They are the reason that that the Utaru and the Tenakth have had strong relations for so long.

FlameHairSavior: Speaking of the Tenakth, any progress there?

MARSHAL Kotallo: I have reached the Clanlands. Everyone is very happy to see me. I am sure Hekarro will accept a Focus gladly.

FlameHairSavior: Is there any reason he wouldn't? Worst-case scenario planning.

MARSHAL Kotallo: The only reason I can think of is if he wanted to make sure all Marshals and Veterans have Focuses of their own. If we don't have enough for all of them, he might not accept it.

MARSHAL Kotallo: But I find even that scenario unlikely.

β: actually we should have enough for all of them right

β: there would

β: there should be thousands in the cradle

FlameHairSavior: I only brought a pouch full. That still might be enough, but it might be a bad idea to use so many, at least until I replenish my supply.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Regardless, I guarantee that Hekarro and the Clans will stand with you. You have earned more honor than anyone I have even heard tales of.

MARSHAL Kotallo: I suspect at this point, if the Ten descended from the sky, they would receive less trust.

FlameHairSavior: [Groan.gif]

MARSHAL Kotallo: Problem?

β: she really doesnt want to be a saint

ADMIN [Zo]: Again?

FlameHairSavior: Again.

DIVINER: I think it's a good idea to bring in as many into the network as possible! Even if it means you have to go back to the Cradle and collect more Focuses, more is always going to be better!

FlameHairSavior: Oh, I forgot that you have a big network in your homeland. I don't think you said how big, though.

DIVINER: I'm sorry citizen, that is a state secret kept closely guarded for tactical and strategic reasons.

DIVINER: Sorry!!

FlameHairSavior: I just wanted to know how a network with a lot of people operates. We'd go crazy if we were getting constant messages from a dozen more people.

DIVINER: Oh! Well, first off, you can parcel off people into their own message groups! You'll want to make one main group with everyone in it for emergencies, and then everyone can be part of multiple smaller groups! So one will be us, another might be you and just the tribal leaders, and then at least one more for each tribe!

Icarus: I would also suggest that you codify the rules early. They are easier to enforce from the start. Don't let anyone post in the emergency channel frivolously, stamp down on any harrassment, so on.

Icarus: This is especially important for you, since you won't be able to use the Eclipse's method of dealing with rule-breakers.

FlameHairSavior: ...which was?

Icarus: They killed them.

FlameHairSavior: Of course they did.

Icarus: They had more loyal officers than they had Focuses. From their perspective, the math was simple.

FlameHairSavior: [Sigh.gif]

FlameHairSavior: Alva, how are you doing?

DIVINER: I'm almost to the Sunken City!

HIMBO: HOW? IT'S SOMETHING LIKE FIVE TIMES FARTHER THAN WHERE ANY OF US ARE GOING.

DIVINER: I don't take as many breaks, and mapped out my course in advance!

HIMBO: YOU CAN USE THESE THINGS FOR MAPS?

ADMIN [Zo]: By all the songs and shoots Erend, did you never read that primer on how to use your Focus?

HIMBO: VARL SHOWED ME HOW TO PLAY MUSIC, AND THAT WAS BASICALLY THE END.

FlameHairSavior: Erend, stop playing the idiot.

HIMBO: BUT I'M SO GOOD AT IT!

FlameHairSavior: Alva, are you still going through with it?

DIVINER: Yep! It's going to be scary, but it's important that I stay close by to help you! I gave Overseer Bohai a warning, and he's okay with it! I think most of the expedition is staying behind, actually! Just one ship is going back to the homeland!

β: is he staying

DIVINER: Oh, definitely not!

β: does that mean youll be in charge

DIVINER: .

DIVINER: ٩(●ö●)۶

FlameHairSavior: Taking that as "I didn't think that far ahead."

MARSHAL Kotallo: It is a shame we will not be able to communicate with the Quen homeland. Coordinating with a powerful military empire would be invaluable in the face of Nemesis.

β: we might

β: probably not

β: but we might

MARSHAL Kotallo: Interesting.

FlameHairSavior: We shouldn't discount the Quen in the Sunken City. They have enough experience with Focuses to be valuable. Especially if we manage to take over a couple Cauldrons and produce some personal machines.

HIMBO: ANY LUCK WITH HEPHAESTUS?

FlameHairSavior: Nothing concrete yet.

Icarus: I am searching for clues in the APOLLO database.

β: he means hes playing around with the engineering tools

Icarus: I mean that I am investigating our most valuable tool for any and all leads.

β: which looks a lot like playing

FlameHairSavior: Erend? You at Vegas yet?

HIMBO: I SEE SAND?

FlameHairSavior: Well, keep me posted.

FlameHairSavior: Oh, and did I thank you for volunteering to go to Morlund?

HIMBO: YES YOU DID, BUT YOU DON'T NEED TO. I LIKE MORLUND! I WONDER IF THEY'LL REMEMBER ME.

FlameHairSavior: I think Stemmur still has the wrench you threw at them.

Icarus: Remind me again why you feel the need to involve a trio of entertainers in our attempt to save the world.

FlameHairSavior: They're smart, resourceful, motivated, and currently sitting on one of the most intact Old World cities. I don't think it has any printers, but if nothing else it has a power source that's still going strong.

DIVINER: And don't underestimate the value of entertainment! These next few years are going to get dark, we're going to need something to keep our spirits up!

Icarus: I suppose.

GAIA: Aloy, I can confirm that I am fully stabilized. Your concern was ultimately unecessary.

DIVINER: What was that?

FlameHairSavior: Oh, I need to leave the Base for a while, but I wanted to make sure GAIA was fully online first. I told her to text once she was sure.

β: it only took her twenty minutes to be sure you could have just turned around if something went wrong

ADMIN [Zo]: Why are you leaving the Base? I thought you had handled all the emergencies in the region.

MARSHAL Kotallo: I know you finished with all the rebel camps before the assault on the Zenith compound.

FlameHairSavior: I'm going to try and find Talanah. She should still be somewhere in the area.

MARSHAL Kotallo: The Carja woman?

HIMBO: THE SUNHAWK?

FlameHairSavior: Yeah.

FlameHairSavior: I'm going to give her a couple Focuses. She might be heading back to the Sundom, she might not.

HIMBO: WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?

FlameHairSavior: She can give Avad a Focus.

HIMBO: ...OH NO.

β: your drinking debts were going to come due eventually

HIMBO: MAYBE WE CAN JUST TELL HIM I'M DEAD.

Chapter 43 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

#horizon #horizon zero dawn #horizon forbidden west #HZDBaseChat #aloy #zo #erend vanguardsman #beta horizon #alva #sylens

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quodekash · 1 year ago

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HIDDEN AGENDA EPISODE 3 LETS GO

every time they speak english in thai shows it throws me off for a sec, jeez i was not ready for that

HAH

JOKE LIKE HIS NAME

i find that really funny for no reason

new insult just dropped

this entire episode so far has been boyfriend behaviour and im losing my mind

theyre such boyfriends and they dont even know it

like. the clothes shopping?????? GWEGPUISDGHVPO

he broke him.

zo's too attractive and now joke is broken

MATCHING OUTFITS BOYFRIEND BEHAVIOUR BOYFRIEND BEHAVIOUR BOYFRIEND BEHAVIOUR

BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS

lmao good luck

bro cannot see a thing

where the hell are his glasses

"okay, you wont ask your crush out on a date? okay then, you're going on a date with me"

i got distracted because i had to have dinner and then i remembered the piano exists so i practiced that for like 30 minutes BUT IM BACK

oh no, what a shame, what a terrible turn of events, i cant believe it

HES SO WHIPPED I LOVE HIM

im just gonna shut up about the boyfriend behaviour because if i point out every moment of boyfriend behaviour in this scene, i'll run out of images within 30 seconds

IT VERY MUCH IS

AND ALSO HES SO PRETTY I LOVE HIM

THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY

IM SMILING SO HARD RIGHT NOW

theyre just so happy and natural with each other, and even through theyre not technically dating yet (even tho they are boyfriends in my heart), they're at least friends, and id even say theyre close friends with how comfortable and happy they are around one another, and theyre just so happy and they make me so happy and hrbgdhjgkbr

ohhhhh noooooo does that mean they have to go on another date?? what a shaaaaaaaame

HELL YEAH, SECOND DATE

hell to the freaking yes

BRO IS PANICKING BIG-TIME

SOMEONE GET HIM A GAY PANIC BAG TO BREATHE INTO

FINALLY, MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THE THING HE WAS RECORDING

how the hell did zo hear about that tho

gun gungawin, that you?

also: hONEY. MY CHILD. MY BOY. YOU'RE NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE SUBTLE ANYMORE

MYTHOLOGYYYYYY

GREEK/ROMAN MYTHOLOGY

HELL YES

I LOVE MYTHOLOGY SO MUCH

okay- well- i mean thats not quite how the story went, but they're bonding and i get what he's getting at, so i'll allow it.

THE FREAKING PINKIESSSSS

also: what's with the H bracelet? or is it a capital i? i want to know the symbolism behind him wearing that bracelet now

OH FREAKING FINALLY, HE'S FINALLY FREAKING REALISING

TOOK HIM LONG ENOUGH

he did it!! im so proud of him!!

im obviously not rooting for nita and zo as a couple, but i do love them both and im very proud of my boy for finally mustering up the guts to talk to her and arrange a meet up (even tho the "date" word isnt used, it's still progress and im proud of him)

oh nooo it's gonna be super awkward, isn't it :(

DUDE, I LOVE HER SO MUCH

THEY ARE FRIENDS

THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER

AAAGJEKRDBFGB

AAAAAAAAA

THE BIG ATTACK BEAR HUG HERDBFGHDBRVK

I LOVE THEM SO MUCHHHHHHH

awww that's the end of the episode

im excited for next week

also there was a disappointing lack (well, absence) of jengpok today, BUT ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, WE'VE GOTTEN HEAPS OF DEVELOPMENT OF JOKE AND ZO WHICH IM REALLY EXCITED ABOUT SO YAY

okay goodnight folks, it took me more than 4 hours to watch this one episode (how)

#quodekash's unhidden agenda to watch hidden agenda #hidden agenda #hidden agenda series #hidden agenda the series #jokezo #zojoke #joongdunk #joong archen #dunk natachai

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larissa-the-scribe · 6 months ago

Note

Also for the WIP ask game: The Witch in the Woods (Assasin AU)?

Thanks for the ask! (ask game >>here)

Info:

Someone else already did this (>>here), but not to fear. I have a lot of information and this is a long scene.

Backstory behind the scene is that Zo didn't kill Lyn, but he did turn her in as a captive (which was still technically allowed by his contract). However, his clients tried to kill him, too, in order to further cover their bases and keep their secrets hidden. This did not work, and Zo left and yoinked their captive, too (purely for revenge reasons, of course). Lyn is still very tired but also like sure this might as well happen. They head back to the castle that houses the [assassin's guild] (name still pending), thinking that Zo's mentor would side with Zo--after all, their clients broke the contract.

Except, well, the guild also wants Lyn dead, and Zo's mentor doesn't like that their best assassin has started developing human empathy. So he tries to kill Lyn as an object lesson, as any loving mentor would do, really. Zo did NOT almost get killed over this girl so that he could passively sit back and let her die, and he's kind of fed up with being betrayed, so he fights back, yoinks her again (though she already got hurt), and skedaddles with a magic artefact he steals on the way out.

Left without many options and knowing the guild is in hot pursuit, he decides to try his luck with the local wood spirit witch sprite thing. He is not pleased by this, partially because he's not a big believer in magic. Local wood spirit witch sprite thing is not making this any easier on him, either.

Snippet:

What if he had just more surely killed them both by following a wild hunch? Zo gritted his teeth. Too late for doubts now. “[Spright]!” The quiet of the forest returned stiflingly as soon as his voice faded away. In the stillness, Zo realized his heart was beating much faster than he had anticipated. He wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen now. Some flash of light? The ground shaking? Lightning and thunder? “Hmmmm, here’s the deal, I don’t do things anymore, especially not for people from the Castle.” Zo whirled around. He had heard absolutely nothing, and yet, lounging against a tree with her hands shoved into the pockets of a faded green cloak, was a brown-skinned girl who didn’t look to be much older than him. Dark brown, almost black, hair spilled and tumbled out of her hood and all over the place. Her dark eyes were lit up with vivid sparks of green, and looked extremely bored. She waved. “[Spright]...?” Zo asked cautiously. He had been trying to summon a person, and now a person was here, so that was the logical conclusion; but this tired-looking young adult--only a couple inches taller than Lyn, and similarly slight--was so far from anything he was expecting from any of the legends that his attempt at logic felt more like trying to use a stick of butter as a handhold. “You called,” the girl pointed out. “I’m almost sorry to have wasted your time. But I don’t place curses on people, I don’t grant wishes, I don’t have any gold or know where any can be found, I don’t kill people, I don’t work miracles, I have a strict policy against necromancy, and if you’re here to fight and defeat the scary woodland menace, I don’t do that either. You look young enough. You can still go back to the Castle and realize you’re on the wrong life path and get out before it’s too late. Good-bye!” “Wait, I’m not—” The girl vanished, her image melting away into gold and green lights scattered in the sunbeams. Zo blinked. “Hello?” He reached forward, half expecting to touch something—but all he could feel was the tree bark behind where she’d been standing.

#spright is abusing her teleportation abilities #Zo is not amused #assassin au #rifters series 3 #tamaki nozomu #zo #asks #ask game #writing asks #ocs #scribe answers #salt and light

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namjhyun · 11 months ago

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DRAMA REVIEW | MOVING (2023)

In a time when we are suffering from an over-saturation of content and less than mediocre stories, particularly related to people with superpowers, South Korea has released MOVING and proved there's still hope for the genre.

Like its tittle the story is in constant move, not only pushing forward but going back to different timelines to give us context o our main characters and how the things happening in present time are a direct consequence to the past. Technically, MOVING is perfect. One of the strongest points is definitely the editing and this can be seen in the way the story jumps from one year to another but you never lose track of what's happening nor leaves you confused. There are gaps to fill but with other episodes that will give you answers. The score complements the actions and emotions of the characters to perfection.

The performances are top notch and it's not surprise considering this drama is stacked. If you have been watching korean dramas or films for a while, you will recognize even the most random character or one-episode-cameo it's performed by an award winning actor or actress. These people have a reputation for a reason and they deliver in every scene, with a look, a touch, a smile or a punch that will push you through a wall. For some characters in the drama literally speaking.

Zo In Sung hasn't starred in a drama since Dear My Friends (2016) and I am so glad this is his return to the tv format. In MOVING he delivered a nuance, charming and badass performance that in the hands of another would have fell flat. His character's entire existence it's what pushes most of the story forward: a person used as a weapon to kill but all he ever wanted was to live. The big mystery of the drama it's to find out what was his fate after he got separated from those he loves.

Ryoo Seung Ryong remains one of the most compelling actors of his generation, giving us the incredible story of a good man lost in life until he found his purpose and redemption. His storyline, full of gore and violence, was actually a tender love story about how far a man will go to protect his family. Marvelous.

Han Hyo Joo's character could have easily fallen into the Smurfette principle but no. She's an equal to the men who love her and those that want to kill her, with a very strong motivation to keep herself on the top of the game. This character's loneliness comes through every scene she's in, bottling everything up in order to be strong for her family but you can tell she's waiting for a chance to be free and, most importantly, for her son to be able to live freely.

Ko Yoon Jung, Lee Jeong Ha and Kim Do Hoon are really promising actors, particularly considering they hold their own while performance with so many household names. I think Kim Do Hoon and Kim Sun Kyun probably gave one of the most heartbreaking yet beautiful stories in the drama.

Like I mentioned before every single actor in this drama brought their A+ game face but I would be doing a disservice if I didn't mention Kim Hee Won, Cha Tae Hyun, Ryoo Seung Bum, Park Hee Soon, Yang Dong Geun, Jo Bok Rae, Park Kwang Jae, Kim Joong He and, of course, Kwak Sun Young. She in particular was SPECTACULAR.

None of these characters are one-dimensional, they are not defined by the label society wants to put on them. They are all joined together by the experiences, hardships, love, motivations and ambitions they share. At the end of the day, related or not by blood, they are a family. Even the so-called enemies.

MOVING it's absolutely worthy of the hype that surrounds it through all social media and news outlets putting in the category of one of 2023 best tv shows. I only regret I didn't have the time to watch it sooner so I could have add it to mine.

#moving #kdrama #zo in sung #han hyo joo #ryoo seung ryong #cha tae hyun #ryoo seung bum #kim sung kyun #ko yoon jung #lee jeong ha #kim do hoon #kim hee won #moon sung geun #kwak sun young #review #drama review #namjhyuns review #2024

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magdaclaire · 2 years ago

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ch 2 of my katemary fic

find ch 1 here

for zo @soupremade

She doesn't tell John that she met Kate. She doesn't even let him know that she knows about her. The farther away John stays, with his shit practice and inability to cover his tracks, the safer Kate and her kid will be. Mary can take care of her own two, but Kate doesn't have the same tools. They've met a few times before they're both ready to bring the boys together.

Explaining everything to Dean and Sam is hard, especially without directly condemning their father. Dean, when he's not following her around with his fingers wrapped around her belt loop (which he actually hasn't done in a few years, but she thinks it might just be because John caught him doing it the one time), worships the ground his father walks on. He wants to be a hunter when he grows up, take care of people and fight monsters, and it's exactly the type of life Mary never wanted for him. It's too late to fret about it now. Dean's old enough that he has a mind for what he wants, even if Mary tells him no when he wants to go with his father for a hunt or two. She knows that John always tells him yes when it comes to a gun in her baby's hand.

On the whole, both of them react well. Dean is all about meeting the baby, wants to come along the very next time she visits Kate, if that's okay, Mom, please? Sam is a little more reticent about it, though he always is, and asks if he can come next time, but not this time. Bobby is supposed to show him a book, see, and Sam is just beginning this phase where all he wants to do is read. So Mary takes Dean, and leaves Sam with Bobby and Rufus. Dean is bouncing in his seat the entire hour and a half to Windom, talking her ear off about a baby brother he hasn't even met yet. He jumps out of his seat as soon as they park, near-to glued to her back as soon as Mary herself is standing. She finds their destination quickly.

"Hey!" Kate says as soon as she sees her, Adam's carrier resting against her hip. She brings Adam's car seat into places, just carries him around in it, and Mary's mad she never thought of it. Dean perks up in his seat beside Mary.

"Is that the baby?" he asks, nearly straining out of his seat in an attempt to get a better look at Adam. He's eleven, but sometimes he's still just like when he was small. He's still small, too thin when she looks at him after he comes back from John, and she's gonna kill her husband if he keeps at the pace he's going. It's not like anybody official really knows who she is. She puts her hand on Dean's shoulder, bringing herself back into the moment.

"Yeah, Dean, that's Adam. But you can't scare him, okay? You have to be gentle with babies," she reminds him, and Dean narrows his eyes at her, giving her that same are you stupid? look that Sammy is learning how to do, and Mary knows it's from Bobby or Rufus one. Dean'll keep talking about Bobby and Rufus for weeks after he's been sent to see them.

"Mom, I remember how babies work," he says, the stupid look tinting his tone as well. Mary holds back a snort.

"Alright, then why don't you ask Miss Kate if you can look in at her baby, huh? It's rude to just look in people's baby carriers," she says, but she's mostly teasing at this point. Dean is one of the most well-behaved kids she's ever met. She has no doubt that a big part of that comes from how John treats him when Sam and Dean are staying with him, but they're still technically married. It's his right to see the kids. It hardly occurs to her that she could just hide from him.

It's the idea of living in fear that drives her nuts. The concept of changing Dean and Sam's names, her own, maybe the three of them claiming her maiden name back. Like part of taking John's last name wasn't that last bit of her desire to run from her father, to find something so different even she couldn't be the same.

"You can look at him if you want to, baby, you just have to be gentle and quiet. He's still sleepy from the ride," Kate is saying to Mary's boy when she comes back outta her head, Kate's rational voice cracking right through the fog of her mind. Dean smiles up at Kate and something pangs in Mary's chest. He wasn't really a person before he was a big brother, was he? He crafted himself around that thought, that instinct to protect, to nurture. She does her best for the boys, but she's not exactly the nurturing kind when it comes down to it. She thinks Dean might know that about her. It's just that look in his eyes, isn't it?

"This was a good idea," Kate says to her over Dean's head. His whole attention is focused on Adam, openly delighted to see a baby in that gentle child way, that love that you can feel by looking at it. This was a good idea. Mary smiles. Adam is giggling in his carrier, grabbing at Dean's fingers.

"Yeah. Thanks for agreeing and all that," she says, rubbing at her nose. She's never been all too skilled in those situations when somebody else thinks she's done a good job, too used to her father's steady hand, his iron grip around their family. Always feels like there’s gonna be something coming after it if she's told she's done something right.

"No problem. Dean, there's a baby seat on the swings if you want me to come set Adam in it so you can swing together," Kate offers, moving her attention to the children so fluidly that Mary finds herself admiring her. She never planned to have help, Kate Milligan, never planned on John and doesn't have any parents left to plan on either, and still, she kept that baby. Mary, despite how much she loves her boys and how much she would do for them, doesn't know that she would have been able to do it alone. That she would have been able to stay. She wanted to be a Mama real badly when she was nineteen, when she thought that being a mother was the only way to settle down.

Now she's somebody's Mama and she's still not settled down, and her boys aren't settled down neither. She looks at Kate putting the baby in the swing (and Dean must have agreed at some point when her head was in the clouds), and she wants to be like her. Or maybe she just wants her. She's not really sure anymore.

"Dean's saying he can handle Adam. He says he's taken care of a baby before?" Kate asks, her gaze steady on Mary but the set of her mouth is just this edge of judgment. Mary sets her forehead against her knuckles.

"His Daddy- John- he isn't exactly the most observant father. I reckon Dean was about five when John started leaving him alone with Sam. If I knew how to keep the boys from him, I would. It just seems so unfair to deprive Dean nor Sam of his Daddy," she answers, her lips pursed. Kate's eyebrows come together, then she raises one at Mary in question.

"Deprive him? If John expected that much of him at five, I can't imagine John's gotten better," she says pragmatically. Mary's hand clenches where it sits on top of the picnic table.

"They've always had him, though. I don't think I could bear taking him away," she says, both honest and dishonest, and she doesn't know what would be more honest than that. I'm scared to run from him? I'm scared he'll look for us? I'm scared he won't go away? That might be the part that makes her the most shaken up, the idea that John might fight her for her boys and that he might do it the civie way, take her to court when she's never had a home to go back to, when she doesn't even know how to begin fighting him back. Anybody could look at her and see someone not stable enough to have her kids all the time, always sending them off to be with an aunt or uncle that ain't even related by blood, and she can't bear her boys being given to their Daddy. If John would even get approved to have them. Bet against bet, they'd just end up in the system, and she can't have it.

"Is having him the best thing for them? Or is having you?" Kate asks. The question rings around in Mary's head, words repeating, and how is she supposed to know?

"How do I know that?" she asks aloud, her voice coming out like a croak, and Kate puts her hand atop Mary's.

"Who's the person that loves them most in the world?" Kate asks. Mary answers quicker than she can stop and think.

"Me," she says, and she's sure of it. Those are her babies, the ones she raised, and no one loves them more. Kate smiles at her.

"That's how you know."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I have to be, Mary. I've got nobody else doing this with me. I'm Adam's whole world when he's this little, and your Mama is your whole world while you're still a kid. If I walk around thinking I'm not fit for the job, what does that mean for him? That he has a parent that isn't as sure about him as he is about her?" Kate pauses for a quick second, emphasizing the rhetorical question, before she continues. "I made him, and I kept him, and I love him, and I'll love my son no matter who he becomes. I couldn't have said the same thing about John, or about my parents, god rest them, but I know I love him, tiny as he is. And that boy over there? You love him. I can see it in you. You just have to remind yourself that you're enough. You'll always be enough." The words are a little rushed but so sure, and Mary is enraptured in watching the other woman talk.

She's so sure of herself. So concrete. Mary can't stop herself admiring a woman made of stone.

"You've figured out more about this shit in months than I have in eleven years," she says, not least of all because no other words will come. Kate snorts.

"I've had a lot of help. Half my shift is older ladies with grown kids, so I get a lot of advice whether I ask for it or not," she replies, and she looks pretty enough with a smile that Mary wants to reach out and touch her. More, that is. Their hands are still one over the top of another, like holding hands but not. Mary darts her eyes over to the boys on the swing set, but Dean is still just sitting in the swing beside the baby swing, his hand reaching out to hold one of Adam's little feet. Looks like he's bouncing Adam a little by doing it, soothing a baby as natural to him as anything else he does, and Mary loves her boys. She misses Sammy, even when he's only an hour and change away. She loves them most. She knows it.

"How about we go join them?" she asks, tilting her head over to the boys. The purposeful shift in the mood is obvious, but Kate just grins at her, goes with it.

"Let's do that," she says, and then she's running toward the swing set like a little kid, and Mary has to follow after her.

She has to.

#katemary #mary winchester #kate milligan #contentnatural #sapphicnatural #fuck it we BALL #tag list reblog in a sec #mine

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hanamiyama-basketball-club · 11 months ago

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I mean I DO kinda think shuu☆zo is secretly planning some kind of revolution and sb69 is fundamentally pretty pro status quo so it'll probably go badly but that is not, technically, a thing my blorbo has done (yet)

He did (in a canon AU) attempt to destroy capitalism by turning the global economy into strawberries (but in practice mostly just his ex's bank account) admittedly and it was very sexy of him

I always nod solemnly at those "my blorbo did do all those bad things" posts but also like my blorbos are fictional high school athletes and musicians like they are not committing atrocities. (Except kuromos but uh)

like I assume most people are like yeah he did that massacre and it was sexy of him and I'm sitting next to them like yeah he does call during the school day too often. Yeah he was the weakest member of that team. Yeah he really should have just admitted he had to leave the band for magical health reasons. But it was sexy of him

#Also he was Amakusa #Also he did probably kill a bunch of people as ambivalent prince shuu #And it was very sexy of him

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fatedroses · 2 years ago

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Part 1 of this sketch comic, Tsukiko's fateful meeting with Zenos during an excursion with her mentor Atticus. Hearing a plot of an attempt on Zenos' life on the Emperor's nameday, Solus recruits the aid of his old friend Atticus' Cresent Blades to ensure his safety.

Too bad Zenos has a knack for throwing a wrench in everyone's plans, and Tsukiko is all to happy to go along with him.

#long post #comic #ffxiv #zenos yae galvus #varis zos galvus #solus zos galvus #oc #tsukiko date #atticus van simalrus #technically varis wasnt zos yet but garlean titles are weird #and would zenos even have had claim to the throne yet?#but anyways #tsukiko was a goddamn gremlin with a penchant for battle when she was younger #and zenos wasnt quite as pessimistic(?) this early either #two lonely and poorly adjusted people plot absolute chaos with one another #poor atticus #he knew taking Tsukiko to garlemald wouldnt be a simple trip #also I know the comic is messy #ill probably work on cleaning it up later or just work on lining the next parts cleaner

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benwrey · 4 years ago

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*makez another furzona* makez another furzona* *makez another f

#hlvrai #forzen #furry #fursona #kinsona #TECHNICALLY I CAN UZE THE HLVRAI TAGZ....... ZWEATZ #didnt tranzlate well in thiz ztyle but zuppozed to be Thick Wide #brick zhithouze #god i wanna be buff yet ztill chubby irl #alaz........ i am juzt chubby no buff #anyway i tried to draw normal furry but like nothing waz turning out right zo i zaid to hell with it itz round time #OH GOD I FORGOT MY COFFEE OH GOD ITZ GONNA BE COLD i hate drawing. i hate adhd i hate drawi #i have kin zhifted you will only zee forzen for the next month #me: im zorry for being a bootboy #yall: zome crimez can never be forgiven

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getvalentined · 4 years ago

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I don't know a lot about FF14 because MMOs just aren't my bag, but I do know a lot about Emet-Selch (IE: this is the only character in the entire game that I would care about and I'm not sorry) and that made this commission a lot of fun. Bummed that so much detail got lost scaling it down, but oh well.

#final fantasy XIV #solus zos galvus #emet selch #FF14 #shadowbringers spoilers #I guess #just his NAME is a spoiler #technically #it's been a while #but still #some people aren't there yet!#commission #art tag

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carewyncromwell · 3 years ago

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𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊 // Character Profile

// template inspired by one developed by @thatravenpuffwitch //

BASICS

Full Name: Desiree Anne Luminosa Marie Lestrange

Nickname: Desi (by Jules Aquila and some other crewmates on the Empyrean)

Birthday: 1st May 19xx

Blood Status: Pureblood

Gender: Cisgender Female

Sexuality: Demisexual / demiromantic

Nationality: French

Residence: Lestrange Manor, Paris, France (previously); The Empyrean (current)

Languages: French, English, German, Latin, Greek, Runes, Hieroglyphics; some Spanish

Quirks: Often wears a pair of gold winged earrings; speaks in a French accent that makes the "s" and "th" sounds sound like a "z", making words like "this" and "so" sound like "zis" and "zo"

PERSONALITY

MBTI: ISTJ (The Logistician)

These people tend to be reserved yet willful, with a rational outlook on life. They compose their actions carefully and carry them out with methodical purpose.

Four Temperaments: Phlegmatic

cautious // quiet // honest // selfless // high-principled // pacifistic

Strengths: Intelligent, organized, sophisticated, witty, responsible, practical, loyal

Weaknesses: Uptight, stubborn, overly serious, detached, cautious, socially inept, critical

Interests: Languages, archeology, history, puzzles, cursebreaking, traveling, cooking

Dislikes: Untidiness, flakiness, disorganization, cruelty, broken promises

Stance on les Non-Magiques: Desiree is rather ignorant when it comes to the Muggle World due to her very restrictive, blood purist upbringing, but she’s not actively prejudiced. She really admires of some of the technological advancements Muggles have made in lieu of magic, such as ocean liners, but she can sometimes look down on non-magic-users without meaning to, subconsciously treating them as more fragile and/or less capable. This doesn’t mean, however, that she feels any disdain or hostility toward Muggles, let alone people with Muggle ancestry -- she can just come across as a little tone-deaf and insensitive when she railroads through, thinking she knows best and can handle things on her own.

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Ruth Negga

Height: 5’5”

Build: Slender

Hair: Curly black

Eyes: Brown

Skin: Tanned

What do they carry on them?: Her wand, a knife (attached to her boot), a dust brush (attached to the other boot), a Sneakoscope, a Propity Probe, a coin pouch enchanted to hold a modest amount of francs, Deutsche Marks, pounds sterling, and Galleons

Fashion: "Vintage Safari" (when traveling); “Coco Chanel” (formal)

MAGIC

Wand: Cherry, Dragon Heartstring core, 11 inches, slightly yielding

Animagus: N/A

Patronus: Husky (originally); Eagle (after falling in love with Jules Aquila)

Boggart: Being as silent and translucent as a ghost, unable to touch or help anyone

Riddikulus: Being under a Disillusionment Charm and being able to sneak up and jump-scare her friends, which makes them laugh and then subsequently makes her laugh

Amortentia: Lilies, old books, the ocean, faintly worn leather, myrrh

Polyjuice: Like jasmine green tea spiked with cool, cleansing spearmint

Mirror of Erised: Being surrounded by her mother, father, and brother, all of whom look upon her with pride and respect (previously); standing with Jules at her side, holding her shoulder (now)

EDUCATION

School: Beauxbatons Academy of Magic

Best Subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts; Ancient Runes; Ancient Studies

Worst Subject: Astronomy

Honors: Prefect, Head Girl

RELATIONSHIPS

Family: Cyrille Lestrange (father; deceased); Alodie Lestrange (mother; estranged); Marius Lestrange (younger brother; estranged)

Friends: Jules Aquila @kathrynalicemc, Kathleen Alton @magical-retales, Lugh Hopper @thatravenpuffwitch, Felix Witt @sirfluffig, Prince Darian Zain @kathrynalicemc

Love Interest: Jules Aquila

Pets: Zephyr the occamy (technically owned by Jules, but this little guy 150% sees Desiree as "Mummy")

Enemies: Jacques Macnair; Claude Macnair; Yves Rosier

FAVORITES

Colors: Blue, violet, white, black, gold, silver

Foods: Croissants; cornish pasties

Drink: White wine; English breakfast tea

Magical Creatures: Abraxan Winged Horses, Sphinxes, Occamies (thanks, Zephyr!)

Flower: Calla Lily

Book: The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

Season: Autumn

BACKSTORY

Older child and only daughter of the well-regarded and conservative French wizard Cyrille Lestrange, Desiree was raised alongside wealth, but it brought her very little happiness. Happiness was a luxury she somehow couldn’t afford – because from the moment her younger brother, Cyrille’s heir Marius, was born, Desiree was expected to set a good example for her brother and shoulder the burden of watching over him, supporting him, and fixing any of his mistakes. Part of this was because of her family’s patriarchal expectation that women should be dutiful to their family – part of it was favoritism on her parents’ part toward Marius, indulging the boy and spoiling him beyond reason simply because he was the heir they craved – part of it was the twisted logic that Desiree wouldn’t inherit anything from her father upon his death, so she couldn’t rely on it like Marius could – and part of it was a form of neglect that seemed to assume that because Desiree was the responsible one (largely because she was expected to be), she should be the one to shoulder all the family’s responsibilities, rather than it being distributed equally.

Regardless, Desiree wasn’t really given much room to complain or lament her circumstances – she knew her family needed her to be dutiful and responsible, and so she ended up compartmentalizing any loneliness or isolation she felt and plowing through with targeted precision. On her parents’ direction, she became both Prefect and Head Girl at Beauxbatons and then aimed for a position at France’s largest Wizarding Bank, the Banque Ducristaux, as a Cursebreaker. It was a job that paid very well and was very well-respected in the circles the Lestranges dabbled in, so it was thought that it would help Desiree achieve a worthwhile romantic match before settling down into domestic tranquility.

What the Lestranges hadn’t counted on was that Cursebreaking also involved a lot of travel – something that Desiree’s intellectual mind rejoiced in, since it let her experience so many wonderful things in person that she’d only ever read about in books – and it was through traveling to different tombs that Desiree collided with sky sailor Jules Aquila.

After coming across the same tomb, fighting over the artifact in question, and even having to help each other out in escaping some of its traps, the two ended up developing a working rivalry, colliding in several more locations and both bantering and cursebreaking several more times over. Jules found that their rivalry – and more importantly, interacting with the other – made the whole game a lot more fun, and before long, Desiree realized it too. And so, after Jules ended up in France and a bit too over his head, Desiree helped him out of it and then – to everyone’s shock – actually set sail with him, up into the air in his ship, the Empyrean.

Now Jules Aquila and Desiree Lestrange are almost never seen apart, sailing over the world and going on exciting new adventures everyday…and Desiree finally finds a dream that she can chase for herself, rather than someone else: to be happy alongside the first real friend she’s ever had in her life.

TRIVIA

~Desiree has never had any pets, due to her mother’s allergies and general dislike for animals. The closest she’s ever known is Jules’s familiar, Zephyr, who loves curling up on her shoulders like a stole.

~Desiree has a lot of trouble letting loose and having fun, but one thing she does end up discovering she really loves doing, whenever she travels somewhere new, is to visit every museum she can find. Learning new things was one of the few things that brought her any joy as a young girl, and she loves being able to learn whatever and as much as she wants whenever she wants.

~Marius resents the hell out of Jules Aquila for taking his sister away, since after Desiree left, he was forced to confront how much he’d truly relied on her and how little he truly knew how to do on his own -- something that greatly bruised the young man’s ego, given the toxically masculine home he and Desiree were raised in. He has tried to bully and gaslight his sister into returning home, but Desiree has very coldly shut him down every time.

~Desiree used to be a bit of a hoarder in the sense that whenever the crew of the Empyrean would discover anything of historical significance, she would hold onto it in her cabin, trying to meticulously study and care for each artifact. Over time, she comes to the realization that it isn’t practical to keep so many priceless artifacts on board ship and donates the vast majority of them to museums around the world.

~Don’t spend a lot of money on Desiree, if you want her to look at you with anything other than disdain. She received a lot of expensive furs and jewelry from Jacques Macnair back in the day while he was courting her, and she finds such things incredibly impractical. Something small, tasteful, and personal to her will make her much happier.

~Also please, for the love of GOD, don’t take something out of her cabin and then not put it back exactly where you found it. Desiree will go ballistic if she can’t find what she’s looking for because you messed with her stuff.

~Desiree encourages Jules to learn more Spanish by studying it too so she can help him practice speaking it. She also teaches him some French so that she can have short conversations with him that only they can understand.

~Out of the Empyrean’s crew, Kath has taught Desiree the most about Muggle technology. Desiree had never even touched a record player, Muggle or magical, before Kath pressured her to help fix theirs. Kath also taught Desiree basic life skills like how to light matches and how to preheat an oven.

~Kath and Desiree will also occasionally exchange snarky remarks in French under their breath and laugh really hard whenever anyone else on-board ship demands to know what they said.

~When Desiree first met Lugh Hopper, the two had a lot of trouble seeing eye to eye, with their rather opposite approaches to both life and cursebreaking. Desiree found rough-and-tumble, street-smart Lugh to be reckless and rude, while Lugh found genius stick-in-the-mud Desiree pretentious and bossy. What ended up softening Lugh to Desiree was how this usually quiet, sensible “princess” turns into an absolute nerd when it comes to languages and history. It’s a trait Lugh many years later recognized and similarly grew a fondness for in his honorary second “grandson,” Jacob Cromwell.

~Lugh and Desiree are both expert wizard duelists, so they serve as the resident “tanks” of the Empyrean’s crew, combat-wise. They also duel for fun frequently on deck, with Felix and Darian often taking bets from the sidelines.

~In the beginning, Felix Witt was very distrustful of Desiree, given she was both from a wealthy family and WAY more uptight and by-the-book than he was. And although Desiree likewise side-eyed Felix for becoming a thief of all things in the beginning, the two soon found a lot of common ground, both being the children of wealthy blood purist families with less-than-stellar reputations. Desiree finds Felix’s Muggle magic tricks so interesting that she goes out of her way to pick up several books on the subject so she can study them further.

~Of the members of Empyrean’s crew, Felix seeks out Desiree’s advice the most. Since Desiree speaks German, Felix feels the most comfortable talking out his problems in his native language with someone who’s also a pretty good listening ear. Desiree also helped Felix relearn how to waltz once, before the crew infiltrated a formal event on one of their adventures.

~Spoiled and naive Darian Zain reminded Desiree unpleasantly of her younger brother Marius from the offset. One would think this would prompt Desiree to coddle him, but nope -- if anything, Desiree puts a good bit of pressure on Darian and tries to encourage a strong work ethic out of him, wanting to make sure he isn’t “useless” the way her brother was. Desiree frequently conscripts Darian to come with her to the market and carry everything for her so she can run around like a busy bee and collect supplies faster.

~Desiree almost exclusively calls people “Monsieur/Mademoiselle (last name),” though occasionally she’ll dip into calling Jules “Captain.” Most of the crew adopts Jules’s nickname of “Desi” for Desiree, though Lugh will also teasingly call her “Princess” or “Your Worship” when she’s being particularly uptight or fussy.

~Desiree always had trouble with Astronomy as a girl because she felt like one could just see whatever they wanted, looking at a bunch of a random, unconnected dots in the sky. Jules’s enthusiasm for the stars rubs off on Desiree slightly while she’s on board the Empyrean, though she ends up taking interest in the study of Muggle astrophysics, since she finds stars interesting more for what they’re made of than the patterns they make up in the sky.

~Being demisexual/demiromantic and never having been allowed to make any real friends before, Desiree has expressed no sexual or romantic interest in anyone prior to Jules Aquila. She has, however, had quite a few admirers over the years for her supposedly “exotic” beauty, magical talent, and quiet subservience to her family. The man her mother selected as her intended was Yves Rosier, the dim-witted and rather unremarkable second son of the Pureblood Rosier family, but Desiree’s most prominent suitor was Yves’s schoolyard “friend” and current boss, Jacques Macnair, who is the only son of the infamous French gangster, Claude Macnair. Jacques even now is a bit territorial of Desiree and is incredibly jealous of and therefore very wrathful and vindictive toward Jules for earning her loyalty and affection.

ADDITIONAL LINKS

Intro Post/Aesthetic

Character Playlist

Juliree Ship Playlist

Drabble - "I don’t wanna lose you"

Drabble - "let’s go for a nightwalk"

Drabble - "well...this is awkward"

Meet Jules!

Meet Kath!

Meet Felix!

Lugh’s Moodboard

Darian’s Moodboard

#desiree lestrange #about desiree #profile #fantastic beasts and where to find them #hogwarts legacy #hphl #hogwarts mystery #hphm

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poppysmc · 3 years ago

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I Don't Know How You Do It But I'm Forever Ruined

Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for so so long, unfinished with a different song and Im just obsessed with this song right now so I thought I'd go ahead and post it.. sorry for the mistakes I don't have a beta so they're all mine. I'm just slowly getting back to writing again, please be patient with me. ❤️

Song: Off my face - Justin Bieber

(One shot)

Last and certainly not the least…. Ms. Morgan Hughes, she’ll be gracing us with her angelic voice, singing… uhh… Off my face? Thomas reads the cue cards, slightly puzzled, he thought Morgan would be doing stand-up, he and Morgan’s posse endured long nights of practicing her stand-up routine and now she’s just gonna sing, it’s not even vetted on.

He glances to the side, silently confirming if it was right. Morgan nods and smiles nervously. He in turn smiles back, giving an encouraging thumbs up and a whisper of ‘good luck’ as she takes to the stage.

Some of the audience chuckled at the name choice, adding to the ever growing lump lodged in her throat. This is definitely not her best idea and before she could go ranting about the title, some of her friends clapped and cheered, giving her a slight boost of confidence.

She wrote thet a few months ago, absently plucking at the guitar strings. She’s got the same few chords stuck in her head for week. Only god knows how she pulled the lyrics out of her muddled brain.

How does one go about sharing her feelings for someone who has no idea? Said someone sitting front and center with a scowl, sitting next to her parents. She has no idea she wrote it for her, she sighs in relief.

For a split second she could see Poppy’s attention snap up to her, smirking and raising her eyebrow in question. Morgan rolls her eyes at her and settled into her chair and just like Poppy’s face never moved, her scowl was back in place, listening to Chloe rant about her talent to her right.

She starts plucking out the intro, it’s now or never.

One touch and you got me stoned

Higher than I’ve ever known

You call the shots and I’ll follow

Sunrise but the night’s still young

No words but we’re speaking tongues

If you let me I might say too much

Sometimes people just enter your life and burrow themselves so deep into it that for the life of you, you couldn't remember when it all started. This case was different, Morgan could vividly remember a day it all changed, how it became harder for her to even look Poppy in the eye for more than a few seconds. How her warm touch roughly pulling her back to the argument now seemed to burn through her sleeves, pressure slightly softer. She used to meet her hot gaze, faces only inches apart spitting out vicious insults without thinking much, now she didn’t have the same fire in her veins she seemed to have arguing with Poppy.

The need to antagonize her fizzled into something else, a warmth that threatens to overtake her made itself a home in her chest.

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

Morgan wanted to stay home, as much as she enjoyed parties, it wasn’t something she wanted to do regularly. Sometimes it gets a little too much to handle, the music felt too loud, the people got too close, the eyes on her felt stifling. She wanted to be free just this one night out of expectant looks but Zoey is too convincing, her puppy dog eyes are too powerful for a mere mortal like herself. She made a condition to just be at the party no over the top expensive clothes, just herself.

“I’ll come but just to be your glorified chauffer.” She dresses herself in something simple, a pair of black pants and flannel. “I just want to be invisible this one night, Zo.”

“Fine by me, but if your fashion choices end up splashed all over The T tomorrow don’t come crying to me.” Zoey shakes her head, the slight dig on her wardrobe is softened by a thankful grin.

“You get dragged on The T once, and no one lets you live it down.”

“Because I’m pretty certain I said don’t go out in that, it’s suicide. So yeah I would never let it go, you wore socks with your flip-flops and had the audacity to show yourself in public.”

“It’s not even my fault, sunny ran out the door. I had no time to check what I was wearing."

“You’ll never learn. Whatever will you do without me?” Zoey smirks and shakes her head affectionately. "Stop stalling and let’s go. My carriage awaits dear chauffer.”

“Yeah, yeah. Please allow me to escort you down, boss.” Morgan bumps her shoulders with Zoey as she passes by to grab her jacket. She opens the door and offers her arm, Zoey laughs and loops her arms around hers.

The party was already in full swing once they arrived. The music was blaring; the bass makes Morgan’s chest thump along erratically with every beat. “Text me, okay? I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Sure. Thanks for driving.” Zoey winks and beelines for the bar. In a few seconds she loses sight of her.

Morgan trudges through the house, the crowd gradually thins as she makes her way farther to the back. She exhales in relief finally free of the maze of drunk students with no boundaries, nobody seemed to pay attention to her, thank god for the dim lighting. The backdoor swings open, she breathes in the crisp night air. The door shuts and party fades into muffled thumps. She sat on the porch steps, her side leaning against the banister, oblivious to the pair of eyes quietly observing her.

After a minute of silence, Morgan sucked air through her clenched teeth, surprised at hearing someone pointedly clearing their throat behind her. The rate in which her head whipped back almost made her dizzy. When she recognizes who the person was, she could already feel the headache coming through, she almost swallows her tongue in disbelief. Of all the people she didn’t want to see her tonight was Poppy, yet here she was, alone with her.

“What are you doing back here?” Poppy asked, voice devoid of any venom just genuinely curious.

“Do I need permission to be? Who made you queen?” Morgan scoffs, the slight bite in her voice comes through and makes Poppy smirk.

“Belvoire.” Poppy cheekily answers, earning an undignified snort from Morgan. The slight tension momentarily forgotten.

“Should have seen that coming.”

“The party’s raging inside and little miss newbie sits here. What are you doing, really?” Poppy asks not unkindly, voice tinged with concern and curiosity.

“I could ask the same to you.”

“I asked first.” Poppy frowns impatiently.

Morgan sighs, opting to just answer just to avoid trouble. She didn’t have the energy to make up excuses nor to argue. “I don’t feel like partying today. I’m just waiting for Zoey to get flat out drunk and drive her home. My turn.”

“It’s- It’s overwhelming inside. I just want to be alone for a while.” The honesty in Poppy’s answer momentarily throws her off.

“Do you want me to go?” Morgan asks, feeling like she’s intruding. This must be the longest record they ever had being civil to one another, actually speaking without the sarcastic comments and the insults. It makes her feel out of place and awkward.

“You could do whatever you want. I’m not the queen of anything right now.” Right, cause technically it's Chloe. There’s something in her tone that makes Morgan’s heart clench, yet she shrugs it off as the bass from the party. To Morgan’s never ending surprise, the blonde pats the spot next to her on the bench. “The floor is filthy.” Poppy clarifies when she makes no move to stand. A disarming smile crosses her face, Morgan guessed her hesitation must have been showing.

Morgan stands and dusts herself off. “Who are you and what have you done to Poppy?” She asks with a grateful smile, sitting down the furthest she could from the other girl.

“I have half the mind to kick you off this bench.” Poppy grumbles.

“There she is.”

Poppy huffs out a half laugh and after that there’s just silence. After a while she could see the slight tremble in Poppy’s hand in her periphery. She wordlessly shrugs off the coat she’s wearing and offers it to the other girl.

“What?” Poppy blinks, eying her coat suspiciously, making Morgan chuckle in disbelief.

“You’re cold. Take it or go inside.”

“Fine.” Poppy slips on the offered garment, appreciating the warmth it gave to her cold limbs. She wasn’t thinking while she burrowed herself further, letting Morgan’s scent envelope her. She stared at Morgan, feeling guilty for a moment. She moves closer, Morgan shivers when their shoulders touched. "Thanks." Poppy whispers, if it wasn't for their proximity, Morgan might have missed it. She hoped the shadows hid the small smile spreading to her lips.

“I’m sorry for taking your coat. I just couldn’t go back inside. I-” Poppy trails off, breaking her gaze away and staring farther up the yard.

“It’s okay, I offered. You don’t have to explain anything.” Morgan understood, after today everything changed, she lost her spot to one of her friends. Morgan was somewhat surprised that instead of Poppy's explosive anger, she opted to just sit here and mope.

She jumps a little when her phone vibrates in her pocket, she could see Poppy smirk in the corner of her eye.

"Jumpy."

She reads the text and taps a reply, frowning. She turns to Poppy. She doesn't even know why she's explaining but it felt wrong to just go without saying anything. A part of her wanted to make this moment stretch a little longer, so she hesitates.

“Apparently Zoey doesn’t need me to drive her back. So... I guess I'll head back home." Morgan stands not having an excuse to stay longer and makes her way to the door, hands hovering over the door knob to open it but not before doing something stupid like asking her so called enemy if she wanted to drive around for a while.

“So… Do you still want company? We could drive around for a while?” Morgan mentally chastises herself for the suggestion. Of course Poppy would say no it’s not like she-

Morgan looks back at Poppy, she sees her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. Morgan’s gaze flickers down to her lips, wondering if they’re as soft as they looked. The moment passed and she breaks her gaze away just as Poppy decided.

“Sure but let me just get my stuff.” Poppy stands and makes her way to the door, Morgan standing motionless, hand over the handle. She reaches for it, her fingertips grazing Morgan’s, the slight static made her pull her hand away abruptly.

“Sorry.” Morgan breaks through her short circuited brain and moves to hold the door open for Poppy. “I’ll wait for you out front.” Morgan makes her way back through the crowd, her mind reeling at what happened back there and what mess she got herself into.

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

She continued singing, her eyes accidentally meeting Poppy’s gaze again, her scowl was replaced by an unreadable expression, attention now focused solely on her and Morgan almost faltered. She breaks eye contact and stares at the back wall, ignoring the burning gaze upon her from those familiar eyes.

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

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

The sound of the door opening breaks Morgan out of her deep thoughts. She could see Poppy walking towards her with a sour expression, she's still wearing Morgan's coat.

“What happened to you?” Morgan’s warm hands reaching out to her, settling comfortably on her shoulder. Poppy stares at her hands, she pulls it away like she’s been burned.

“Just drive.” Poppy mumbles, trying hard to be composed but failing.

“Where to?” Morgan pretends not to notice Poppy's agitation, barely glancing at her so she won't feel uncomfortable. She unlocks her car slipping inside while Poppy stares at the abomination in front of her.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful but your truck is… I don’t know how to say it without offending you? But maybe it could use a good wash? Like you drove through mud to get here. I don’t know, maybe we could go to a carwash, my treat.”

"That’s about the rudest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and you said a lot of insulting things before." Morgan rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t mean that Betty, you just got a little mud on you.” She murmurs quietly.

“You named your car… Betty?”

“What? No I didn’t.” Morgan could see Poppy’s amused smirk even in her periphery.

“You’re such a dork.” Poppy can’t help but laugh at her mortified expression.

Morgan distracts herself from the rapidly rising heat on her neck by fiddling with the radio before driving off. The sweet sound of the guitar filtered through the car and she smiles triumphantly, previous embarrassment pushed to the back of her mind. She doesn't notice Poppy's expression soften.

Morgan drives her car through the carwash. They watched the water and the soap assault her car, the material of the brushes made a repetitive sound along with one of her favourite songs. Poppy had her seat leaned back, watching the machine rid the car of dust and mud. There was something mildly intimate about it, Morgan could move her right hand then they would be grazing Poppy’s, she could do it, she wanted to do it. But all she could manage was a slight twitch in her pinky, her hand doesn't move any closer.

“Do you ever feel like there’s a hundred people around you in a room, yet you feel alone?” Poppy breaks the silence, tilting her head slightly to the left to look at Morgan.

“Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes people may be looking at you yet feel as if their staring right through you, like your nothing. Oh! Like a ghost.” This makes Poppy chuckle.

“Yeah like that. It would have been easier if we were ghosts at least then you know why.”

“Did you feel like that back at the party?” Morgan wanted to say how that would have been impossible that no one could have seen her, she’s seeing her now. She wondered how could anyone ever take their eyes of her, she always seemed to be the brightest thing in any room she entered and now even in this dingy carwash she looked so radiant. How sometimes she thinks that she picks fights with her just for a chance to be bathed in her light. Thoughts she doesn't think would ever cross her mind trickled slowly and became a raging river. Now that she found herself here with her, without anything familiar to fall back on, anything just to distract herself out of her dangerous thoughts.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It was easier to be alone than surrounded but feeling alone. Do you get it? At least I know, I chose to be alone.”

“I get it.” If she had the ability to say more she would have but these few pathetic words are all she could manage. This time her hand reaches to squeeze Poppy’s. A quiet comfort to reinforce her words, she understood.

“Thank you.”

Whatever atmosphere they created in that moment fell apart when Morgan had to move her car forward and exited the wash.

“Where to now?”

“Your turn to choose.” Poppy mumbles, still staring blankly outside.

“Okay, I know a place. You're gonna love it."

“I’m not going to let you pick anymore.” Poppy complains, standing in front a fluorescent lit diner. It almost glowed but in a weird way, like a bat signal for the weary.

“Hey! They make the best food.” Morgan steps forward and drags her companion along when she hesitated.

Warmth and the ambient sound of cutlery grazing the plates makes Morgan smile. She always came here when she’s feeling lonely, missing her parents, their farm or when she’s stressed from school, for trying to fit in like a robot.

“Come. Don’t just stand there.” Morgan looks back at Poppy, her breath caught in her throat. Poppy looked ethereal against the most basic place there ever is. If you said diners were some kind of portal to somewhere else she’d accept it and move on, for she looked like she existed out of place, alien, untouchable as she was beautiful. For the second time this day her gaze flickers to Poppy’s lips, she realizes that she’s saying something and Morgan’s mortified of being caught staring like a fool.

“What? Is something on my face?” Poppy is thankfully oblivious.

“No, it’s perfect.” Morgan quietly whispers while Poppy checks herself in the diner’s window, her words falling into deaf ears.

Morgan balls up pieces of her straw paper places it over some torn up tissues, stacked together. She’s fidgeting under Poppy’s presence; she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She's startled when Poppy lightly grasps her hands stopping it from tearing up another piece of paper. It’s been minutes of watching Morgan tear up even rectangles of several tissues, a girl could only take so much.

“You’re making a mess.” Poppy chastises her like a child. She would have laughed but Poppy still hasn’t let go of her hand, it’s making her blush like an idiot.

“Sorry. It’s just that the food is taking a while huh?” Morgan stealthily tries to take her hand back but Poppy only holds it tighter. When they're not arguing, Morgan found that she doesn't know how else to act around her.

“Stop tearing paper like confetti.”

“Sorry.” Morgan sheepishly apologizes and Poppy lets go of her hand, hiding hers under the table, flexing it, she could still feel the warmth of her hand in hers.

The food arrives and Morgan smiles widely. Poppy stares, pretending she's interested in what food Morgan ordered. She admits to herself that for all the times she stared at her she never noticed how beautiful Morgan’s smile was. Arguing doesn't leave one space to insert a smile. It made her heart skip, imagining how it would be like if it was directed at her.

She almost misses Morgan stealing a fry off her plate. “Hey! If you wanted some you should have bought your own or at least politely asked.” Poppy mock glares at her companion, taking one of the crumpled balls and flicking it, hitting Morgan right between the eyes. They watched as the paper landed right into Morgan’s half empty milkshake glass.

"Your face!" Poppy laughs, wishing she could have captured it on camera.

Morgan found that she liked Poppy's laugh when it was genuine. “You better buy me another. You ruined mine.”

“What? It’s almost all gone anyway. All the needless calories you’re consuming will bite you in the ass someday.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Just have the rest of mine.” Poppy slides over her milkshake, Morgan grins and takes a sip right into Poppy’s straw. Poppy noticed first, eyes widening. Did She just… A revolting question crossed her mind, how would ‘Morgan’s lips feel like pressed to mine.’ Shes never felt jealous of a piece of plastic before in her life.

Morgan freezes when she realized what she’s done. She just had an indirect kiss with Poppy through the straw. “Sorry. I got excited.”

Poppy opens a new straw for her water, blowing the other end right into Morgans face, another bulls eye, she’s killing it. “Don’t overthink it.” She dismisses the act but her brain does summersaults inside her skull.

They finished eating, the last few of Poppy’s fries stolen right under her nose. She pretends she doesn’t see her sneaking a few of the fries away, she just lets her. Mind preoccupied with important things like Morgan’s lips.

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

Can’t sleep ‘cause I’m way too buzzed

Too late now you’re in my blood

I don’t hate the way you keep me up

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Even if she doesn't look or at least tries her hardest not to, she could feel Poppy's gaze on her, burning, willing her eyes to look back. There's something wildly intimate about singing a song to someone and in the sea of strangers you know it's just for them. No matter how many people sang it, to another, to themselves or just for the heck of it, the song only belongs to the person you made it for. Just for her. They could never feel the way she felt when she wrote it, how her feelings were entwined with every word.

In her periphery she could see Poppy stand and make excuses to her parents. She left, she didn't see where she went, she doesn't dare look anywhere near where she was, she's a coward like that. All she could feel is disappointment. It takes everything in her not to show it on her face. Was it too late to change her talent to stand up?

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

"Come on Poppy, pick a place already. I've been driving around for hours! People will think we're stalking someone around here." Morgan whines in the driver seat taking yet another turn around the block.

"It's been exactly 20 minutes. You're such a baby." Poppy looks at her phone for any places that might still be open around this time. "Turn right, that's not right. Right! Not left."

"Great, now were going in circles. Pull over." Poppy grumbles.

"What?" Morgan looks confused for a moment but does what she’s told anyway, parking along the street.

"Get out." Poppy moves to exit the car.

"What are you..?"

"I'm not gonna hijack your car, just let me drive. You suck at following directions."

"...."

They switch seats, Morgan slumps and mopes in hers. Poppy fights back a smile.

“Would you look at that it only took 2 minutes.” Poppy smiles smugly.

“I did all the navigating you only had to turn once.” Morgan complains, getting out of the car and looking around the parking lot. “What the hell Poppy, a 711? You could have told me, I could have turned anywhere and found one.”

“Like hell you could. You don’t even know your left from your right.” Poppy laughs at Morgan’s offended expression. They walked in, shoulders brushing together and Morgan shivers, insisting to herself that it’s because it’s cold.

Poppy smiles, victoriously pulling out what they came here for out of the fridge.

“A freaking capri sun? We drove all the way here for that?” Morgan complains, ready to throttle Poppy. Though there’s something endearing in her expression, that proud smile for finding something she was looking for.

“Just go find something you want.” Poppy shoos her away, grabbing a few more pouches of juice. She shakes her head and walks off in search of snacks.

Morgan comes back with an armful of sweets and chips.

“We just ate. What are you doing? Take these back, I won't buy you all these.”

“You said something I like. I like them all. Come on aren't you rich?” Morgan dumps her haul in the counter, the cashier looking back and forth from them, looking for a sign that it’s okay to scan the items.

“Are you just an overgrown kid or what?”

“Pop, you just bought a juice in a pouch, you have no right to judge me.”

“Fine.”

Morgan carries three bags worth of snacks back to the car, Poppy not attempting to lift a finger just because she paid.

“Your turn. Pick a place.”

Minutes later they're on a cliff overlooking the city. Fading notes from a song playing in Morgan’s car filtered to the back.

“I'm surprised you didn't get lost.”

“I don't suck at directions. You're the one that sucked at giving them.” Morgan says in self-defence. She unlatches the back so they could sit on it, holding Poppy’s waist, helping her up. If Poppy noticed her hands shake, she didn’t say anything. They sat closer together, leaning against the side. She could feel the cold seeping into her shirt, making her shiver. Poppy notices and moves to take Morgan's coat off.

“No. Keep it on.” Morgan stops her, cold hands over equally cold ones.

“But you're cold.”

“I'm not.” Morgan attempts to refute it but her hands are freezing.

“I can see your teeth chattering.”

“I like it on you.” She smiles softly.

“What?”

“I don't want you to be cold. Just take it, don’t be stubborn.”

“If you speak of this to anyone, I would personally kill you in your sleep.”

“Why would you do- oh.” Morgan stared in confusion, then realization.

Poppy moved to sit in the space between her legs, leaning her back into Morgan, taking her hands and wrapping them to her waist. Her hands rubbing over Morgan's freezing ones. To say that she was now warm was an understatement, she was burning from the blush that overtook her body.

“If you wanted to be near me so bad you could've just asked.” Morgan grins, chin propped on Poppy's shoulder.

Poppy huffs and attempts to get up. Morgan's arms stop her, wrapping tighter, keeping her in place. “Don't move, I might freeze to death.”

“That's what I thought.”

They had a toast with the Capri sun pouches, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. They sat there talking for hours, the company was too enjoyable to give in to exhaustion or cold.

From the time they were talking Poppy shifted her position, now sitting on Morgan's lap, staring up at her while she told a story about their farm animals, making her scrunch her nose in disgust at one of her retellings.

They stared at the sky surprised to see the day chasing the night away. How long have they been talking? Morgan looks at her phone and even more surprised that it's nearly 6am. Time went by so fast.

“I always wanted to see the sunrise from here. Thanks for the company.” Morgan smiles softly, running her fingers through her hair to distract herself from Poppy.

No one mentioned how one of their hands are still interlaced together or how Morgan's thumb drew circles on the back. Especially not Poppy's lips softly grazing the underside of her jaw.

They watched in silence, both aware that as the night was done, so will this new moment they found together.

“I'll take you to back to your dorm.” Morgan reluctantly says, unwilling to move. It was Poppy who moved off her first.

Morgan slides off the back of her truck smirking at Poppy. “Want a piggy back ride?”

Poppy scoffs. But positions herself anyway, her arms wrapped on Morgan's shoulders, Morgan's hands holding her legs securely as she closes the small distance to the front of her car.

They drove back in silence, neither speaking of the moment, afraid it will be over soon.

Morgan stops her car in front of Poppy’s sorority house, tapping her fingers anxiously against the steering wheel. No one talked nor moved for a minute or two, they just stared at each other feeling the change in whatever relationship they previously held. Poppy’s alarm goes off, effectively ruining their moment.

“I guess... I'll see you later. Good Morning, Poppy.” Morgan smiles softly, hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly, knuckles going white, stopping herself from reaching out.

“I’ll… see you later. Thank you for driving me around.” They both know they will see each other but not in the same capacity as tonight, they will be back to being rivals, enemies, whatever the school made them out to be. She could see Poppy fighting a losing battle against herself before she reached out and kissed the corner of Morgan's mouth. She turns away like nothing happened and exits the car without looking back.

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

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Morgan stands and bows to the applause, yet she felt empty. It all felt useless somehow, she wasn't even there to hear the rest of it. She makes her way backstage, turning the corner as the next talent comes up. She felt like running but before she could turn and walk away, Poppy pushes herself off the wall and approached her. She gulped, unsure of what to do.

“Your voice is very beautiful.” Poppy tells her, voice almost as soft as a whisper. She's searching Morgan’s terrified eyes for something. “The song, did you write it?” She asks all the while moving closer, hands fiddling with the lapel of Morgan’s suit.

All she could do is nod, not trusting her voice at the moment. She takes a step back and another and another until her back is against the wall but Poppy follows her every step. Thank god they seemed alone or she would have burst into flames in embarrassment. Poppy steps closer until their bodies are almost touching.

“Who did you write that song for?”

“I...”

“Tell me.” Poppy looks up almost pleading, wanting to hear what she hoped to.

“It’s for you.” Morgan presses herself even more to the wall, wishing it would just swallow her up. She closes her eyes but it flies open when she heard Poppy gasp. “Are you surprised or?” Morgan trails off, observing Poppy’s expression going from astonished, to happy and outright tearing up.

“I can’t believe you wrote that song for me, I thought that there was someone else.” Poppy breathes in relief, Morgan’s hands wrap around her waist, supporting her weight.

“Just you.” Morgan says breathlessly. Watching her break into a smile made all the nerves she had vanish. She pulls her into a tight hug, smiling when she feels Poppy sink into the embrace. Her head leans on her shoulder and she rests her cheek on her hair. Poppy pulls back and smiles before leanig up and kissing Morgan.

#poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #fanfic #we dont hava capri sun only zesto #one shot #please go easy on me whoever reads

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