#but then acts like ‘VEx! pUt ThEm iN THe dungeon >:(( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

huxianposts · 2 years ago

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you finished royal 👀 thoughts?

I'm p sure i'll be parroting the same things that were echoed back when the FIRST round of p5r spoilers were circulating, so I'm going to put my thoughts under the read more just in case (also this is so long bc i have so much to say dslkfjasdlf). but yeah, while there ARE some positives, I'm warning y'all for the negatives-- so don't like don't read <3

1st thought: wow. so. That is ...a game, alright. Yeah.

2nd: how did a convoluted game become so much more nuts...?

3rd: I'm so damn sad lmao?

following the first thought: The UI was pretty neat and insane, I think the graphics were great and properly enhanced, the voice acting was PHENOMENAL, the music was pretty nice esp when vanilla was balls to the walls insane in its initial execution.

I was initially wary of the new characters, just bc it takes me a while to warm up to anyone new, ESP when it's from an already established game with its base plot and characters. I still wouldn't say Sumire/Maruki are my faves, but I also think if they were in any other game, I WOULD love them. I already think they're interesting, Maruki's characterization both vexes and fulfills me in the fact that the narrative really built him in a way that makes sense-- i was initially not a big fan of this guy bc he came off patronizing even tho he was clearly running away from his own pain-- BUT THE NARRATIVE ACKNOWLEDGED THAT and actually DID something about it, so honestly, yeah, that was fulfilling in the end just bc the bar is low and Atlus has dropped the ball so many times before lol I think Sumire is interesting. A lot of my initial wariness of her lied in the Kasumi-persona-- and when that was finally revealed that, hey! That's not really her! Yeah, I warmed up. Still think Atlus tremendously dropped the ball on her though, but I'll go into that in the second thought.

The new (needed) Akechi stuff was great. It was so fucking needed!!! That is the one area of this game that I will stand up and hoot for because it fleshed him out in a way that felt meaningful; I loved seeing his anger and the raw quality to his characterization. Not that there wasn't that in vanilla, but there was actually SPACE for him in this game, and that was soooooo good. He felt like a person full of literal depth that you can tangibly touch, rather than these flickers in vanilla that felt lacking. I was invested in his confidant in p5r, and while the 'feral' quality to him was kinda over the top in Maruki's dungeon-- his furious desire for autonomy was so in line with character trajectory from being manipulated and used by Shido-- like, wow, I AM OBSERVING, I AM SEEING, I AM LOOKING, I AM INTERESTED, I WANT BETTER FOR YOU. Yeah anyway, he was the one real good part in p5r, and that's why thoughts 2 and 3 are gonna be a thing.

going into the second thought: i seriously do NOT remember most of the spoilers from 2020, and I think that's a combination from naturally shit memory, 2021 being an extremely horrific year for me that impacted everything, and just the spoilers at the time being so insane I didn't want to truly believe it until I witnessed for myself. And well. I witnessed. Even if it took like, 2 years. lol. but how the hell did an already convoluted game become even more bloated and honestly... kind of unnecessary?

the trimester happened but IT DIDN'T REALLY? like, how roundabout do you have to go to just say, "nothing changed for MC in the end", like, bro??? I didn't spend an extra 30 ish hours just to end up back whence I came-- prison. The moment Lavenza said hey, all the work and pain and struggles you underwent will mean nothing because it WASN'T REAL IN THE REAL REALITY when you chose to fight the school counselor-- my god. My blood pressure. So. Akira still goes to prison. And now it's just, framed in such a nasty way of-- because everyone was essentially mind zombified by Maruki's tentacles (SERIOUSLY, ATLUS, SERIOUSLY?? I get he's a counselor BUT WHY), TECHNICALLY everyone and their mom left Akira to uh. Stagnate in prison. For almost 2 months. They essentially forgot him there. And yeah, I UNDERSTAND that everyone was mind zombified and weren't really acting in a way that was befitting of their care for p5 protag-- but how was it in vanilla, the moment the team finds out that Akira sacrificed himself, they spent the ensuing month advocating and finding evidence just to set him free!! Including his adult confidants!! And we somehow managed to set him free within 10 days of waking up in p5r??? It just feels shoehorned in, and again, kinda wtf bc Iwai's thing during Akira's imprisonment (if you max him out) is: "I have connections in the prison system that can ensure the teen that helped me can be safe and looked after." But uh. In p5r apparently, Akira doesn't get that protection for the apparent 1 ish months in prison. So. Again, I GET that Akira wasn't TECHNICALLY in prison the entire time, but reality bs aside where one's real or one's not-- it just leaves a nasty taste in my mouth about his situation.

going on the Sumire situation: why did Atlus. Do that. To her. In any other game, she would be my home slice, my baby girl, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese-- but in this one.... what was her point? Besides being collateral for Maruki's story? It sounds really sucky of me to say it, and ofc no one has to agree with my opinions because they're just that-- but I am so resentful of the way Atlus utilized her. Like the OPENING scene where she somehow follows the team undetected into Sae's dungeon (not to mention, HOW THO, SHE JUST AWAKENED, SHE HAS NEVER REALLY PRACTICED, AND SHE'S FENDING OFF LEVEL 40-50 SHADOWS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS??? BUT THEN GETS BODIED IN MARUKI'S DUNGEON? WHAT'S GOING ON HERE) and 'saves' Joker and then just. dips??? That scene.... did nothing for Joker in the end? He still gets captured, still gets the everloving shit beat out of him, interrogated, etc etc. And then comes Shido's palace, and the team. Just doesn't. Invite her along. Even though, JUDGING FROM HER SKILLS DEMONSTRATED IN SAE'S PALACE, she should be perfect for the Shido heist-- but bc Vanilla was so damn completed, Atlus couldn't bother to implement her meaningfully in that dungeon. And like, her confidant is honestly interesting-- I didn't MEAN to actually care about her, because again, it takes a lot for me to warm up to new characters-- I liked her exploration in grief, in being her own person, hell, I even GET her Minnie Mouse thing to Joker's Mickey Mouse. I get it. I just dislike Atlus implementing her in core scenes that narratively.... doesn't mean anything IF YOU DON'T ACCESS TRIMESTER.

And even when you do-- it's all about Maruki. His research. His powers. His own pain. Sumire was collateral in him realizing himself, his potential, his distortion. It feels like a disservice to her. Because if you take her out of the plot-- what impact was there? Joker still goes to jail. Maruki would've still distorted reality due to his own pains and Yaldabaoth giving him the juice to do magic hand wavey stuff. It just. Seems so ugh, and highlights Atlus pandering to dudebros wanting another 'waifu' to boost their self-insert's ego. And sure, Sumire ISN'T necessarily a phantom thief-- she doesn't identify as such-- but the way her everything is centered solely around interactions with joker feels aughhh, bc it's juxtaposed against scenes where everyone's involved and being friendly to someone they don't know/feel close to besides "oh hey, another student like us and she knows Joker so that's cool", I'm getting tone shift whiplash; it makes everyone feel somehow more shallow in their own interactions-- and that's painful bc for all its faults, vanilla at least emphasized the close energy the team had for each other (YES, AKECHI INCLUDED BC FOR ALL HIS ANIMOSITY WITH THE TEAM, TWAS KINDA FUNNY). For a character that was utilized in so many core scenes with no actual high stakes impact with her presence, the fact that so many of her scenes were unskippable made the pacing grating, because WHY. the one thing I remember the director(?) saying that royal was all about the new characters-- but damn, i didn't expect that to be true lmao. the cast was large enough, so how did adding more to the salad not make anyone think-- hey, this might be a bit much. esp if the things that happened to joker largely didn't change.

ALSO, AKECHI, MY FUCKING GOD. why did they DO that to him????? His confidant? fantastic. His increased presence in the game? Needed and also good. but then you end up with, "uwu he's actually still dead in reality.... or is he ;)" situation?? Like WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT. it feels so disrespectful, and I honestly do not understand the direction they went with this besides kicking the protagonist down even more with emotional damage while also spitting MORE on Akechi's second apparent demise, like how the hell was this okay. yeah, no wonder the bad ending was so fucking juicy in comparison to the 'true' ending. miss me with that shit!!! nothing apparently changed!!!! why!!!!!! HE WANTED TO HAVE A CHOICE!!! BUT NOW WE DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THAT REALLY IS HIS CHOICE OR A FIGMENT OF AKIRA'S WISH, AND I'M SO GRATED

there are also other little tidbits that made go "why", like, the increased Morgana-Ryuji friendship scenes. Which, HELL YEAH??? FRIENDSHIP IN MY GAME? but then it's juxtaposed against OG vanilla scenes where they fight and split-- and it's so emotionally jarring and makes no fucking sense because in vanilla, it makes sense why Morgana would dip-- he and Ryuji had an unstable friendship fraught with self-doubt and projection on each other with no immediate desire to try to understand the other-- Vanilla made those ugh moments a whole ass point of Morgana feeling like he didn't belong, and giving him reason to leave. Now, in Royal, they have more friendship scenes that emotionally feels good, but narratively makes Morgana and Ryuji seem more dick-ish and irrational in the break up sequence. like, WHY ATLUS

going into my third thought: yeah, i'm so emotionally sad? About Akira? I don't even know how to articulate this properly, but. Again, it feels so nasty to see this character continue to go through it™, but it feels nastier to see how now in the end, the adults continue to fail him, and place the onus of responsibility on his shoulders.

the trimester was about helping Maruki and saving him.

Akira still goes to prison, and he CHOSE it, but did he really when his environment and the adults failed him into having to make that choice?

He's going back to his hometown, but the stereotypes will still persist, even with the new evidence of innocence, but hey, he can handle it.

and so much more. It's all about how "oh, akira is strong, he can handle it, he can get through this, he got this", but it feels so gross. Because he started the game alone, and in the end, he... leaves alone. Physically and emotionally, too.

Like i both LOVE and hate how everyone splits their own ways. I think, yeah, following the reality theme-- that IS realistic, and goal-wise, feels fulfilling in that regard. But in the other sense: this is a game about manifesting your soulsona into punching shitty adults, why tf are we leaving our MC alone again??? What drew me to vanilla p5 was just. How inherently alone everyone felt. Everyone was so damn alone, so damn lonely. And then they found each other. THEY FOUND EACH OTHER. the whole world might be against them, but that's okay because they're together. So now in the true ending of p5r, there's this... resigned feeling. Of accepting and moving away, of reintegrating in an unfair society that would look away from the most vulnerable and harmed. and it feels 'mature', it feels 'realistic', it feels 'normal'. And I both love and hate it. I love it for its acknowledgment of wanting to grow more than just being a phantom thief, but I hate it for how in the end, everyone felt so emotionally distant. I couldn't recognize them the same.

Akira started the story alone, and he somehow leaves more alone and distant. And again, it's that piece of "nothing changed". Akira might've changed, and I guess, that is the most important part bc his situation hasn't necessarily changed-- but why did it have to feel so much more lonely this time around? You give this boy a group of people he loves and who loves him back-- and suddenly, everyone's fucking gone. It just feels so painful, watching him board that damn train, still wearing glasses and smiling. a hundred plus hours of this game... and for what? his story was about pain, and now he gets more pain? who approved of this message?

overall: I think largely, p5r further highlighted the weaknesses shown in vanilla, and how convoluted and kinda stupid the plot was, i.e., society remaining largely the same even after Shido. Nothing really changed, besides MC's perception of the world-- and yes, I guess that's fine, that's powerful too in its way. But for a theme about "Rebellion™", p5r didn't.... have to keep hammering the WHY DEVIATING FROM SOCIETY IS BAD ACTUALLY message. That's so gross, man. I think p5r was fun to play and revisit, but ultimately the experience made me feel like a clown and made me lowkey hate the cast, and i never want to experience that split second of hate ever again <3

#thanks for the ask!#asks #anon #huxiantalks #p5r #i'm gonna tag this as #negative //#just in case #i mean i guess it IS largely negative but more like this is coming from a place of confusion and grief man #like the message somehow comes off as a punishment to 'individualism' when the whole point of og vanilla (and persona 3 & 4 even) was that #connection matters and is your real power #but why did it end like that why were they all left alone #anyway these are my own interpretations so take this opinion piece with a grain of salt #to you anon that asked this q i am so sorry for how long this is faklsjfaksld #you ask for thoughts and i gave my whole confusion i am sorry

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nightymein69 · 3 years ago

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i’m not surprised, really.

but when they started fighting alongside the villagers without debating whether they should leave them to it while they rested.

when the person in the dungeon was not an old woman, and they helped her without accusing her of being suspicious and deciding to leave her there basically to die unless they remembered to come get her out if they defeated the briarwoods.

i had this moment of “i had a feeling they were going to do this”

because. the thing is. i started campaign one at the whitestone arc and i was like “wait these are supposed to be these legendary heroes vox machina???? what?” because i’m watching vex argue that they should take a long rest while the villagers are trying to fight undead giants in a rebellion that vm started. i’m watching grog literally say “shit happens” when keyleth says that villagers are dying because of it. i’m watching basically the whole group treat an elderly woman in the dungeon of evil lords as a potential threat when there was absolutely no reason to believe so [ every roll they made up until the hand thing decided that they should have believed what the woman was saying ]. this woman was begging them to let her out because she would die if she was kept in there and they basically said it was their decision to make whether she lived or died.

i love vox machina, honestly i do. but, in the whitestone arc? they act really shittily toward people.

taking what happened exactly and putting that in the show? i don’t think many people who hadn’t seen c1 would have stuck around to see how they grow after the end of this arc.

#tlovm spoilers #tlovm #cr spoilers #honestly. I HATED vex until a good few episodes after the arc ended #she was being horrible to keyleth #she was the main one arguing that they should leave the villagers behind to rest #thank god she got better

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m-aster-of-spinjitzu · 3 years ago

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Akita and Zane talk after the battle in 'Awakenings'. The conversation... doesn't go as either of them expect.

Prompt: memories, from @ninjago-bingo‘s warm board:D

Trigger warnings: implied self harm (one or two characters dig their fingernails into their hands), discussion and introspection about most of the crimes the 'Emperor' committed, a lot of talk and introspection about murder.

Word count: 4682 (I've literally been writing this for like a month lol, kinda disappointed it ended up fairly short:/)

"We have to talk."

The girl with red markings on her face - Akita, he heard Lloyd call her - unsheathes her short dagger, eyes narrowed to slits.

He glances around the throne room, hands pressed to his head. The memories were still trickling through; strange islands and a forest of snow, a dungeon and... a noodle factory?

"Alright," he says quietly. She bears the same red marks of the bear he can remember Vex convincing him was a criminal, many winters ago. That could only mean-

It wasn't you, he reminds himself. It was the scroll, and the actions of a power hungry traitor.

You gave the order, his now infallible memory supplies, and, honestly, he has no rebuttal for that.

"Alright," he echoes meekly, trying to muster some emotion into his voice. "I know-"

"No," she cuts him off roughly, her eyes scanning the room. It is just the two of them now - the samurai had fled once they had recovered from the strange trance he had put them in. Vex had been locked in the dungeon by Lloyd, who was helping any of the samurai who could not quite remember their old lives.

He had ruled for sixty years. Some of their families might dead, some by their own hands.

They know this. He knows this.

Irrationally, he wishes there was some way to fix this. A spell, or a way to turn back the clock; some way to yell at a younger Zane to just scout the cave-

There is no way backward; only forward, out of this winter - and, possibly, into another one.

He stares at the girl in front of him, taking in her tattered clothing, the ease with which she holds her weapon. She's not afraid to fight.

"I don't owe you an explanation, Emperor," Akita says definitely, forcing out the words. "But you will give me one, or you shall never see the light of day again. My brother-"

His heart lurches, eyes widening. Brother.

"Knows that the dungeon has many empty cells," she finishes sharply, barely contained anger flashing in her eyes.

He keeps the facts brief, concise. Once this is all over, he can dwell on them - agonize over what he should have done; use it to be better next time. Atone for his mistakes, even if he can never truly make up for them.

"A snake capable of sorcery used a magic scepter to blast me and a vehicle to this realm. I was sent here sixty years into the past, which is why it took my friends so long to find me. I was also holding a similar magic scepter - one which amplifies the holder's power, but if held for too long, it corrupts one's mind."

"I know what happens next."

How-

"I watched your message to your friends," she replies curtly, by way of explanation. "I did not know that you and the Emperor were one and the same. Continue."

"Vex interrupted a process I was using to try and fix a- vehicle, which caused me to lose my memories. He told me that I was ill. He said that he was a great friend of mine, and that this realm belonged to me. He convinced me that Formlings were warmongers, and that the rightful king had overthrown me. Just before he almost killed Lloyd, he said something that caused my memories to return."

She frowns. "I do not understand. How does one lose their memories so easily?"

Akita stares at his metal skin, her eyes widening as if noticing it for the first time.

"I am not quite like you-"

"I know," she interjects, eyes brimming with anger. "I am not a murderer."

"I was... created," he replies, quietly. "Out of extra materials. I can act like others, but I do not always understand emotions in the same way."

Akita frowns again, raising her dagger. Her voice grows a dangerous edge; sharp and cold. "You never realized that your actions were wrong?"

They're entering dangerous territory. Some part of him wants to derail the conversation; stick to the facts and leave his emotions out of this.

But he owes her an explanation - he owes everyone an explanation. He owes them so much more, if only he could give it to them; erase the past and leave their quiet realm in peace.

"Before I came here, I would never have done such things - if I had my memories, I would never have done such things. Vex convinced me that they were the only way I could defend my throne. I did not know that they were wrong. The moment I realized what I had done, I tried to help your side. The right side," he finishes, ignoring the temptation to stare down at the floor instead of into her blazing eyes.

An indecipherable expression crosses her face. "You never talked to another? One of your... army, perhaps?" "Vex gave all the orders. He just asked me for approval. I never left this room." "And you approved them," she muttered, but it seemed to serve more as a reminder to herself than it did to him.

"What was your life like, before you entered our world?" Akita asks suddenly, suspicion still coating her voice. He blinks, the question unexpected.

"My friends and I can control and create different elements," he began, hesitantly. Carefully. "We were taught to fight. We protect our city from those-" "You were built to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

"Those who cannot protect themselves," Zane finishes, guilt making his vision hazy.

He quickly blinks away the tears, all too aware of her persistent gaze.

"Two more questions," she says quickly, glancing behind her. "This room makes me uncomfortable. And so do you." The accusation is clear, but her eyes are not quite as cold as they had been earlier.

"What do you feel now?" Akita asks roughly, taking a step back. "You mentioned earlier that you do not feel emotions the same way that we do. Explain."

I could lie, he thinks, fleetingly. What if my feelings convince her that I am the Emperor even more than I am Zane? A voice at the back of his mind points out that he is - was - the Emperor.

He knows this.

He knows that he will have to acknowledge it once they are back home.

He knows that he cannot dwell on it now, or the winter will go on - inside his mind instead of outside it.

"I feel... guilt," he begins. "For the terrible crimes I have committed. Horror, at my own actions. Anger, towards that traitor. Relief - that I am no longer under his influence." An eyebrow touches her forehead, ever so slightly.

"How guilty?" It is almost a challenge, her voice rising in pitch threateningly.

"I will spend the rest of my life working to atone for my mistakes," Zane answers sincerely, resisting the irrational urge to squeeze his eyes shut. "However, I know that nothing I can do will ever undo them. But I can help others from people who- who... seek to manipulate them," he finishes quietly, a remorseful sigh punctuating the confession.

Akita says nothing; lips pressed in a hard line. Her blank, steadfast gaze meets his. The dagger clatters to the ground.

He draws in a breath sharply.

Picking it up, she squares her shoulders defiantly. "My people will know that... that there were two prisoners within these walls," she sighs, the weariness in her voice all too evident.

Yet he does not miss her glare; a barely contained anger that lurks just beneath the surface.

Akita straightens her spine, frowning menacingly as her hand tightens on the dagger.

He resists the irrational urge to take a step back.

"My brother and I will never forgive you," she snarls.

You do not have to, he would like to say. But he suspects that she already knows this.

"Come near either of us again, and I will make you long for death."

She shifts to her wolf form, baring her teeth - but when she stalks closer, he does not back away.

Suddenly, he is all-too-aware of the fact that the throne room is currently empty - bar the two of them.

He does not move.

It is not as if she could harm him - titanium is not easily damaged (yet, some part of him wonders if that is a blessing or curse), but they have faced enough villains for him to know how it works.

The villains die at the end; rightfully so.

Why should this be any different?

"You will pay for your crimes," Akita growls, shifting between her forms as if it is second nature. It probably is. "Emperor."

Her dagger clatters to the ground once again.

He does not move.

Why should this be any different?

---

"What's taking her so long?"

"Who?" The Samurai asks, the confusion on his face only amplifying.

"No- nothing," he mumbles, wincing. The adrenaline is wearing off - and with it, the fleeting distraction from the pain coursing through his chest.

Broken ribs? Probably. But he's got bigger problems to worry about - his minor injuries don't really matter when there's a warrior (because after all that she's been through, he thinks that she deserves the title - even if it's one she would never have wanted) seeking vengeance, someone who could tear apart this castle, brick by brick if she wanted to, alone with his brother.

His brother - who'd taken hers; encased her village in a tomb of ice, leaving behind no one but a teenager consumed with blinding anger - rightfully so, he admits, a bit wearily.

What happened to you, Zane?

Are you even... there? The person who used to stay awake with me when all I saw was the building crumbling before my eyes, night after night? The one who swore to protect those who couldn't protect themselves?

Are you still there?

"Can I, er, go inside?" he asks no one, trying not to breathe too hard. The Ice Samurai he'd been trying to help had vanished, most probably to try and get answers from someone else.

He owes it to these people to help them - if he'd just been faster, stronger, better, Aspheera could never have-

Not now, Lloyd!

He should probably open the doors - try and diffuse whatever fight they'd gotten into. Akita reminds him of Kai; both of them fiercely protective of those whom they care about, yet sometimes clouded by rage so thick they can barely see out of it.

But he's hesitating - there's always the possibility that her anger; prison of its own, might extend to him.

Not that he even has the right to condemn her for it, though.

Unwillingly, a fleeting thought presses itself to the forefront of his mind; beautiful white hair, a soft voice coated in honey-

Broken ribs, he reminds himself stubbornly, grimacing at the flare of pain as he draws in a breath sharply. She's gone, she's gone, and it's-

He bites his lip until the tang of iron fills his mouth, eyes fixed determinedly on the floor.

Not now, Lloyd!

Slowly, carefully, he pushes the door open. It creaks softly - but he doesn't think anyone hears it.

Oh, no.

---

"Akita?" a voice questions, hesitantly. He's half-leaning against the door, blonde hair almost completely hiding wary eyes all but squeezed shut in pain.

She stiffens, ignoring the part of her that learns to hunt, murder, the- the monster-

Blinking, quickly, she allows her mind to embrace the sharp, cold air on her fur, and her harsh, ragged breathing - until she can almost feel the shift in her heart, trading instinct for a different type of clarity, white fur for skin and hair.

Grabbing her dagger, she halfheartedly swipes it at the boy who makes her cheeks redder than they usually are, the boy who travelled across the ice seeking a murderer-

Well. He is in no condition to help anyone - they both know this.

But he does not have the right to interfere with this conversation - her feelings do not matter when his friend is-

"Leave us," she snarls, fingers digging into the hilt of her dagger. "What makes you think you have the right?"

Her voice grows colder, but she can't quite keep the tremor out of it.

"You did not find your village half-dead, or spend months mourning your brother," Akita snaps, frustration seeping into the words. Why does he always have to make everything so complicated?

"I know," he replies, hesitantly, eyes flitting between the room and the door. "But... this isn't the right thing to do, Akita."

"Do you think it was right for your friend to seize power from our rightful ruler? Do you think he was right when he imprisoned an innocent child for so many years?"

She doesn't bother to keep the venom out of her voice, ignoring the fact that the light brown of her skin has almost faded to white where she grips her weapon.

Taking a step closer, she bites her lip.

If he will make this his fight, so will she.

"The girl I told you about," Lloyd interjects. "H- Harumi." He forces out the name, as if the very mention of it ails him.

She raises her eyebrows. "What are you going to do? Distract me with stories about your girlfriend while he," Akita glares at the Emperor with a sigh, "escapes?"

"No," he replies softly. Brushing the hair out of his eyes, she doesn't miss his poorly concealed wince.

This is the friend he seeks?

There's a fragile silence, one of which she refuses to shatter. Nothing he can say will erase the horrific actions of this- this power-hungry ruler who has abused the gift he has been given; persecuted their lands, and forced innocents into lives ruled by fear and hatred.

"I- er-" Lloyd starts, visibly uncomfortable with saying... whatever it is he is trying to say.

She does not interrupt, but does not take her eyes off the Emperor, either. He has not moved or even contributed to their exchange yet.

Good, she thinks fervently. She does not need to force herself to try and feel sympathy for a man she has hated for so many long winters, one who has taken a piece of her heart and locked it away in a tiny prison cell.

"Did I ever tell you that- that... I watched her die?" he asks, aiming for a casual tone.

The hurt subconsciously laced into it makes something in her heart twist, as if it had been pierced by a shard of glass.

Outwardly, she does nothing more than raise an eyebrow.

For all the days they have spent trekking across the ice together, it suddenly dawns on her how little she actually knows about him.

"No," she replies carefully, dragging out the word. "Why?" "She-"

Akita can almost see his internal struggle - anger and fear and indecision and something she can't quite place her finger on meshing into another thing entirely.

"She- tried to murder," Lloyd flinches at the word, nails digging into his palms, "my friends. And I was forced to watch, helpless," he whispers, so softly that she has to strain to hear it.

"But when she- she died in a crumbling building, I- was... the one who caused it to fall."

"Your point?" she snaps; voice as sharp as her blade. He is the only thing standing between her and the Emperor; between the growing hatred she had allowed to fester for all this time, because one day she would finally make him pay-

Her friend visibly winces.

Too late does she realize her mistake, a fact that leaves her a bit sick to the stomach.

That's nothing compared to the bout of nausea that accompanies another realization, juts a second later.

How could I let my anger hurt another - one who did not deserve to receive it? Am I truly any better than the one whom I have condemned?

Well. The logical side of her mind points out that it is her choice to forgive, for such unforgivable acts; that the anger that had doused everything in its hue, every day, was to be expected-

"I apologize... for my conduct," she says quickly, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "You have never hurt me. I did not mean to hurt you." "It's okay- this- this isn't my fight anyway," Lloyd replies quickly, fingers wrapped around the door handle - but she doesn't even think he's aware of the fact. "I just- I just wanted to share something with you, something I wish someone would've shared with me, because-" He's rambling, words practically coated in a jumble of shaky nerves. "What is it?" Akita asks softly, losing a little of the stiffness in her tone.

"Murder- it isn't right," he repeats, hands pressed to his forehead. "But... it'll hurt you more than it will anyone else. I can't go a week without seeing her fall in my dreams, over and over again. I should've been glad, I guess... she'd hurt my friends and I so many times. But- but I'm the one with the nightmares, and all this- guilt. And I care- I care you, Akita. I know that I'll never understand how you've been hurt by- by the Emperor... just, think about how it'll affect you." Akita's eyes widen incredulously, but he's not done. "Just- don't let someone else make you hurt yourself." His voice is about a pitch higher than normal, but neither of them really register it. "Sometimes, the best kind of revenge is refusing..." Lloyd trails off, his eyes squeezed shut (a second later, he opens them again, blinking profusely), "to let anyone... make you hurt them."

Irrationally, she wants to break something.

That advice offers... an entirely new perspective. One that she had never thought of.

One that is- is unwanted, she insists fervently.

And now his fingers are pressing into his hands again, so tightly that she almost wants to yell - stop it, idiot, you're hurting yourself! - at him. "Because... it might haunt you lot more. And if they- they- really want to hurt you?" Both of them ignore the erratic, painful looking way his breathing starts to hitch just then.

"Don't give them... the satisfaction of it - by- your own hands."

Her mouth drops open.

No words come out.

What?

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Lloyd slowly - a bit too carefully - push the door shut behind him. It creaks softly, but neither of the two left standing in the room really hear it.

She squeezes her eyes shut, far too many emotions almost crashing through her mind.

"You seek to rescue your friend. I seek revenge."

Blinking the world back into focus, her mind whirls and whirls; the storm unrelenting.

"I seek revenge."

What exactly did that mean to her?

She...

She did not quite know the answer now.

---

Akita does not speak for some time, her thoughtful expression plainly clashing with one of anger.

He does not speak, either, although it is for a different reason.

Lloyd's words have forced him to face the reality he has been avoiding ever since he smashed his scepter on the ground - ever since the decade-long winter had ended.

"And if they really want to hurt you? Don't give them the satisfaction of it - by your own hands."

"If they really want to hurt you."

There is only one whom Lloyd could have been referring to.

"You were built to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

Somewhere within his mind, he is aware of the fact that the second his memories returned, the staff lay in pieces on the floor; all of that corrupted ice shattering into nothing.

He is also aware of the fact that sixty years of tyranny will leave behind much more than an altered climate.

If they even get back to Ninjago, what will have become of his city? It took his friends decades to find him - what could have happened during all that time?

Friends. Does he even have a right to call them that?

He is not quite sure - or even sure if all of them will be as forgiving as Lloyd.

The Green Ninja had always strived to find the best in people - to believe that anyone could make up for their mistakes, that they would want to. It had been to his friend's detriment, once - yet Lloyd had never quite given up on the world, in the same way that many of them had. Maybe it was some sort of childish naivety - or maybe it was just in his nature to hope, even after all they had been through, that everyone had some good inside them.

Yet, he had never met anyone who shared his friend's mindset - or at least to that extent.

Kai knows what it is like to have a sibling kidnapped, taken from them for no rhyme or reason - other than the fact that a cruel ruler who seeks power and exploits those around them for it will stop at nothing to get what they want.

Cole knows what it is like to die (well, almost, his logic points out) - to be imprisoned within yourself; a husk of a person, unable to live your life to the fullest.

His mind flashes to the thousands of innocent villagers he had frozen in icy prisons, practically caskets-

Irrationally, his hands begin to shake.

He chooses not to focus on that.

Nya used to hunt down those who hurt others, he recalls - and then squeezes his eyes shut.

Is she not quite similar to Akita in that regard?

The realization leaves him more gutted than he thought was possible. Had he really become the very person his friends worked so hard to stop?

He clenches his fists, the titanium covering his fingers grating together.

At least I am no longer holding the scroll, he thinks, fervently. Before long, the memory of a clear, quiet night pulls itself to the forefront of his mind.

The echo of a whispered confession; a brief explanation mixed with tears and shaking hands. A voice usually so bright, silenced to the shaky murmur of "I watched her die, Zane, and it was all my fault, it's all my fault-"

It was then when he had learned of- of an alternate timeline, his processor had inputted seamlessly. Another reality, wiped from their minds and the press of time. One that only existed in the memories of two of his best friends.

One that resulted in poorly concealed winces, seemingly arbitrary flinches, Nya throwing out any dresses she owned and Jay practically shaking with fear when he was asked to do certain chores. One that resulted in scars that ran far deeper than those of venom or sword. His memories had been useless then, too, his mind points out. How could he have let two of his best friends suffer for weeks on end, when he was able to upgrade or encrypt his memory drive at any time? When he was a n- robot, and should be able to recover memories that had been deleted or erased? The others could never be afforded that opportunity - yet, he had let the team down when it mattered most. If he could not be there for others, try to help them protect them from a force unable to ever be completely defeated, would he ever even halfway fulfill his purpose? He had pondered all of those questions - had ignored the pang in his heart when many pieces of the figurative puzzle clicked into place, for many weeks afterward. He had almost immediately vowed to be better - to ensure that his purpose did not go unfulfilled.

His purpose, he thought bitterly, as he squeezed his eyes shut. What had become of it now?

Another question to ponder, he supposed. And the realization that Jay - one of his brothers, one who was always equipped with a weapon and a joke too - would forever know what it was like to be kidnapped, held hostage, simply because a power-hungry figure cared less for another than anyone ever should.

Akita's brother had been scarcely less than a child - after his imprisonment. How could he have strayed so far from his original goals - how could he have strayed so far from what he had supposedly fervently stood for?

---

Lloyd's words still ring in her ears, his weary tone not quite matching their crazy implications.

She rubs her temples, frustrated. This was definitely not what she had come here for! She had come for vengeance - vengeance for the terrible crimes the Ice Emperor had committed, against her village, her brother, even her-

But what was the point of revenge if she was the one left scarred? a small voice in the back of her mind points out, doing nothing but adding to her indecision.

I cannot do this, she insists fervently, thinking of her brother's worn face - and the years he had spent imprisoned; a lone figure silently mourning a sister he did not know still trekked the ice.

Just as she had been mourning him, she thinks sadly. The pang in her heart may have lessened since she had realized that he was still alive, but it was still horrifying to think that he had lost decades of his life - she had lost decades of hers, too, in a different way, she muses - saddened, alone, imprisoned.

But is this what he would have wanted? For her?

He had always been the calmer, logic-based one. She was always running into fights, the one fueled by emotion and anger.

Well. She spares a moment for the future.

The Emperor would leave their world - possibly, to haunt another. She would remain here - with her brother and her village, the woods and the towering peaks of the mountains.

I only have this one chance, she reminds herself firmly. She fixes her eyes on the strange blue ones of the Emperor, and sees a future ruled by that one decision.

Her gaze flits towards the doorway, and she sees a future there, too.

She sighs, dropping her eyes to the ground.

But Katuru would want me to- to-

Be happy, she realizes, jarringly.

Taking a deep breath, she bites her lip.

"Will taking your life make me happy? Will it make up for the years of pain we have endured at your hands?"

Her voice rings out, hesitant yet determined.

"I wish it were so," she confesses wearily, ignoring the ache in her hands. She's been gripping the hilt of her dagger for so long, the blade's almost pierced her skin. "Alas, it is not."

The Emperor meets her gaze, but not completely - out of guilt? Fear? Anger?

She does not have the time to ponder meaningless questions.

"I despise you with every fiber of my being, you coward," Akita snarls, some of the anger she has become so accustomed to bleeding its way into her words. "But I will not tarnish my hands on someone as worthless as you, when you presently pose no threat to me."

The words spill from her mouth, but she almost wants to stuff them back inside at that very second.

This isn't why I came here! This isn't what I was supposed to do-

Another voice cuts through the one in her head, a weary confession from someone she knew nothing and everything about.

"Don't give them the satisfaction of it - by your own hands.

The next words she utter fill the room - steady, unwavering.

"Leave our world, and never return. Never. You have treated my people as if you are a monster, yet you say that you are sorry. As if you could ever care - after everything you have done to us!"

Akita sheathes her dagger, indecision still weighing heavily on her mind.

"I hope that you are as haunted by your time here as we all are," she spits, walking towards the door. She does not look behind her, but packs as much bitterness as she can into the last word she utters before the door closes behind her.

"Emperor."

---

A/N - I know this wasn't great, but honestly, it was really interesting to write and challenged me to think about certain things quite a bit. If you did read it, thank you so much!:D

#the ice chapter #ninbingo #ninjago zane #ninjago lloyd #ninjago akita #ns11 #zane julien #lloyd garmadon #ninjago fanfiction

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heliads · 4 years ago

Text

Partnership

When Y/N L/N is paired with Draco Malfoy for a Potions assignment, she assumes it’s just her bad luck. However, the two may have more in common than she’d thought.

masterlist

The sky is a brilliant blue, dashed with the occasional white puffy cloud that looks like it came straight out of a picture book. It’s a beautiful day, by far one of the nicest days you’ve had in a while. And instead of enjoying it, you and your friends are walking down to the dungeons for Potions. Just perfect.

Glancing over, you see your same lackluster disappointment on the faces of Harry and Ron, two of your closest friends. Even Hermione, who’s usually keen to get to class and learn some new and exciting piece of information, seems reluctant to trade in the golden glow of the sunlight for the dim, dull, and distant dungeons.

It turns out you’re right to be unhappy- Potions class has barely started when Snape announces that you’ll be starting a project that will last about two weeks or so where you have to research and come up with your own potion alongside a partner. Most of the work will be completed outside of class, but on the final day of work the two partners will both have to successfully brew the newly created potion. Each partner will drink from their partner’s cauldron, and if you don’t immediately die or the potion works, you pass. You’ll be working in pairs of two, but just as you look eagerly to Hermione, Snape informs the class that he will be picking the partners.

Ron groans quietly. “So I guess I won’t be working with you, Harry.” Harry chuckles. “Not a chance. He’d never let the two of us get our way.” Hermione shrugs. “At least you know you won’t be working with Malfoy. He doesn’t hate Draco enough for that. Honestly, Y/N, I’d be worried about yourself. You’re a Ravenclaw, not a Gryffindor, so it isn’t outright treason to be paired with Malfoy.” You nod slowly. “That’s what I’m worried about. He won’t put any of you with Draco, and he probably won’t put Draco with Crabbe or Goyle either.”

Ron frowns at you, confused, and you clarify. “If Draco has to drink from Crabbe or Goyle’s potion, he’ll die. Snape wants to make sure Draco doesn’t get poisoned, so he’ll pick someone who’s actually competent.” Harry grins. “That would be good to see. Killed by his own best mates.” The rest of you dissolve into laughter that is just a hair too loud, as Snape glares at the four of you and a reprimand is issued from across the classroom. “Quiet, Potter! Ten points from Gryffindor!”

Ron makes a face once Snape’s back is turned. “Why didn’t he deduct any points from Y/N? She was there too!” You laugh at that. “It’s called the perks of not being in Gryffindor. Very helpful.” Across the room, Snape continues assigning partners. “Parkinson and Zabini, Thomas and Bulstrode… and Malfoy and L/N.”

You freeze in place. Snape clicks his tongue impatiently, and after a beat, you gather up your things and walk over to sit next to your partner just like everyone else in the room. Draco is evidently annoyed by this too, and he hisses something to Snape in a hushed voice. “I don’t want her as my partner! She’s Potter’s friend!” Snape just eyes him coolly. “She may be an associate of Potter, but as of right now both she and you are students under me, meaning that I and I alone have full jurisdiction of which partners you have. I would suggest you hold your tongue, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco leans back in his seat, clearly vexed. Snape moves on to other students, and Draco mutters under his breath. “He can’t talk to me like that.” You smirk at his annoyance. “He can and he will. Welcome to the real world, Malfoy. He’s like that to everyone.” Draco flashes you a glare and you hold your hands up defensively. “Hey, I don’t want to be here anymore than you do. Don’t think for a second that you’re anywhere near my first choice for partners.” Draco shakes his head. “Nor you for me. At least I know you won’t kill me- you are a Ravenclaw, after all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Such glowing compliments. I’m touched.” Draco rolls his eyes. “All we have to do is get through two weeks and then I never have to see you again.” You toss him an obviously mocking smile. “Sounds perfect. I can’t wait to pretend we’ve never met.”

Snape switches to lecturing directly after he finishes assigning partners, so you don’t have any time to work on the project. Once he announces the end of class, you turn to Draco, expecting to talk about research for the potion you’re supposed to come up with, but to your surprise, the Slytherin boy is already walking quickly out of the room. You heave a frustrated sigh, then grab your things and follow him out resolutely.

You catch up with him in a courtyard on the grounds, and walk in front of him, forcing him to stop. He looks at you, bored. “What do you want?” You raise an eyebrow. “To talk about the project? If we want to get this done in two weeks we have to start research immediately.” Draco waves a hand at you dismissively. “Then go do it.” He moves to start walking again, but you step to the side and block his passage. “You’re joking if you think I’m doing all of this myself. We are both doing it, or nothing is going to happen.”

Draco folds his arms across his chest. “Do you know who I am? I’m a Malfoy, one of the best pure-blood families in the Wizarding World. I certainly do not have to do research with some Ravenclaw.” You laugh incredulously. “I don’t give a damn about your family. I mean, are you really going to cling to some false notion that your family is going to get you everywhere in life? We don’t all revolve around you, and your family certainly doesn’t either.”

Draco glares at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You stare at him in determination. “There’s going to be a time when you graduate from your final year at Hogwarts and you have to figure out just what to do with your life. A name can only get you so far out there, stop relying on it here.” Draco pretends he’s unaffected, but you can tell you’ve struck a nerve.

“You’re wrong, L/N. My family can bring me more than you could even dream of in your wildest imagination. No matter where I go, I could have things handed on a platter to me while you have to work away all your life for half of them.” You consider him. “But what if you didn’t have to live like that? What if, for once in your life, you were actually yourself instead of hiding behind your father’s shadow, scared of everything that he hasn’t briefed you on beforehand?”

Draco flinches, and you realize you’ve gone too far. “Do not disrespect my father like that. He is a good man, and you cannot talk about him like that. Why are you saying all of this, anyway? Because you’re mad at me for not wanting to study?” You shake your head softly. “I’m saying this because I know how it feels, to be trapped in between your family and your life. Let down your guard just this once. I promise you’ll be all the better for it.”

Draco looks at you, and for a second you think you’ve ruined everything, and that you’ll have to just go find yourself another Potions partner because he will never speak to you again. Then he nods, and holds out his hand. “Maybe you’re right. To being equals?” You stare at him for a second, then a smile starts to slip onto your face. “To being equals.”

You and Draco don’t meet up again until tomorrow, when you find yourself sitting opposite him at a table in the library. There are books on potions and potion ingredients in front of you, and the two of you stare down at them as if looking at them hard enough will automatically teach you how to brew a stellar potion.

Draco taps something on a newly turned page. “What about this? A Self-Switching potion? It seems easy enough, and we just make a simple version of it where you have the ability to change a few things about yourself. Like being a Metamorphmagus but only when you drink the potion.”

You nod slowly. “That sounds really good, actually.” You clasp your hands together, eyes starting to brighten with excitement as you consider the project ahead of you. “I think we could do it. I mean, it’s a basic chameleon potion so we could definitely do it in time. As for ingredients, I’m thinking some bicorn horn, dittany, maybe boomslang skin? Oh, we’d obviously have to have some essence of comfrey… Does a foxglove extract sound right, or is that more for other potions?”

You realize you’ve been chattering on for a while, and glance up from the book to see Draco looking at you with the most peculiar look on his face. There’s an easy smile crossing his lips, one you haven’t seen on him in a very long time. Perhaps not ever. You tilt your head at him, confused. “What?” Draco blinks slightly, coming back to reality. “Nothing. Uh, that sounds good.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, but turn back to the book. Your eye catches on some diagram depicting the proper brewing of the Polyjuice Potion. “Wait, we could use that wand movement there! It’ll actually work out just the way we want it to, but way easier than just brewing Polyjuice.” Draco grins suddenly, the flash of his teeth in the dim atmosphere of the library catching your eye. “Are we actually doing this?” You smile back at him. “I think we are. Look at us! Legitimate potion-brewers!”

The two of you start to laugh, the happy sound breaking the stillness of the library and earning you a swift glare from Madam Pince, the librarian. This act of discipline just makes the two of you laugh even harder, until you’re forced to quiet yourselves at the risk of being kicked out of the library. Once the study session is over, you start walking back to your dorm, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione catch up with you once you’ve barely taken a few steps.

Hermione clasps your arm. “I saw you heading out of the library. I can’t believe you have to work with Malfoy, that’s just awful. Tell me, is it that unbearable? I don’t know how you can stand it.” You smile lightly. “Actually, it’s not that bad. He just seems like another student.” Ron frowns, bewildered. “But he’s not just another student. He’s Malfoy.” You shrug. “I don’t know. He’s nice to me.” And, you suppose, he was. In fact, other than that one incident yesterday, he’s been friendly and even kind to you. Strange.

Before you know it, the two weeks have flown by and it’s time for the in-class Potions assessment. You and Draco work side by side, working effortlessly as if you’d been brewing potions together all your lives. At the end, your cauldrons contain identical liquids- the same swirling, mulberry color, the same light, almost white smoke.

Snape arrives at your cauldrons, taking a quick glance inside to check that the contents appear roughly the same before gesturing languidly at the two of you. “Drink the other’s potion. You had best be correct in your brewing, as I don’t want any more trips to the infirmary.” You and Draco look at each other one last time, then you dip a cup into his cauldron, drinking it down as he does the same. The potion isn’t sweet, nor bitter, just a smooth liquid with a slight hint of spice.

Now to test if the potion works. You concentrate for a second, willing your hair to turn a different color. Pink, maybe. After a second, you glance at a mirror in your hand and smile to see the light rose locks taking the place of your formerly H/C ones. You look at Draco, and grin to see that his eyes have changed color from the usual ice gray to a dark emerald, reminiscent of the Slytherin colors adorning his robes.

You let out a quiet laugh, relieved, then will your hair to transform back into its usual color. You feel better once it does, and when Draco’s eyes return to normal. Snape considers the potions for a second, then nods slowly. “Acceptable work, both of you. You’ve earned yourselves an Outstanding.” Snape steps away to interrogate another pair of students, announcing that once you’ve been graded you can leave class, and you beam at Draco. “We got an Outstanding! I’m so proud of us!”

Draco smirks at your enthusiasm. “Let’s head out. I think I’ll become unconscious if I have to spend another second next to Finnigan’s potion.” You giggle quietly at that, and gather up your things to leave with him. The two of you walk out of the dungeons and into the courtyard. You tilt your head up to face the sky, basking in the sudden brightness of day.

Draco laughs at you, then his voice slowly starts to die off. “Well, I guess you got what you wanted, didn’t you? The two weeks are up. You never have to see me again.” You glance up at him, but Draco doesn’t give you a chance to speak. “I know how it is. You’re best friends with Potter and the others, they despise me. You probably despise me too.”

You walk over to him, gently taking his hands in yours. “I think I’m expected to, but I don’t. I think you’re a genuinely good person, Draco, you just have to give yourself the chance to see that for yourself.” He lets himself smile at that. “In that case, would you like to give me the chance to go out with you to Hogsmeade? The trip’s in a few days.” You beam at him, feeling your eyes light up. “I’d like nothing more.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco imagine #draco x reader #draco imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines

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spinchip · 4 years ago

Text

I Hope We Both Die

Summary: Zane sneaks out of his room and goes down to the dungeons. He talks to Vex one last time before they leave.

Warnings: Ask to tag Pairing: Gen, One-sided Friendship. Wordcount: 2100

They stay in the Never Realm two days after Zane shatters the scroll of forbidden spinjitzu across the throne room floor, releasing his iron grip on the people beneath him. There are loose ends to tie up, decisions to be made, judgements to pass in the days to come. The nights are overwhelmed by celebration, feasting and fire and colors, traditional clothing and dancing and singing and drinking until too drunk to stand- songs are written on the spot about the occasion, The Fall of the Frozen King, sung with the bellies of men in rejoice. The land exploded in revelry, euphoria and jubilation as messenger hawks swept the country- the king is dead! Their message cheered, and we are free!

They burned effigies of his silhouette late into the night, bonfires made of wood and glory charring as fire and warmth are welcomed back into the land. The bloody fear of a country cauterizing and clean.

Zane spent that night in political meetings, shackled to a chair, as his friends tried to convince the nobles not to slaughter him.

He doesn't say a word in his own defense, nothing but facts- the cave, the amnesia, Vexs manipulation, nothing more. He stares ahead, eyes unfocused, and tries not to dwell on the sick look on everyone's faces as he describes the brutality against him, how Vex broke him and scattered the pieces. The hand the cuff is strapped around is unfamiliar, and he can't stop staring at it. He’d seen his reflection once since he’d awoken, a passing glance in a mirror as he’d been escorted by two guards, and the man looking back wasn’t him. This wasn’t his body, he hadn't done those things, he couldn’t have.

But he did. The static in his mind shrieked and howled, overhwelming and loud.

Grimfax asks him to stop, and Zane looks down at his hand that’s not his hand and the ice that’s spiralings from his fingertips and confesses I don’t know how. His voice is quiet and scared and he’s been broken all in pieces and the pieces are put back all in the wrong order. Grimfax asks him never to return, and it takes Zane too long to register that he's being allowed to live. He is put under constant supervision and released to his friends, guards trailing his every move, and while statues of him burn he sits in a bedroom surrounded by his friends with his head in his hands. He doesn't talk, he doesn't cry, he just sits while they flounder around him. He feel sick and wrong and nothing they say can soothe him.

Day turns to night and he lays in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, and when the sun rises he doesn’t move. No one has come to get him, Vex’s voice doesn’t seep through his door to prepare him for his day, there’s no morning report he must attend to. Why get up at all? Cole and Lloyd try to coax him out of bed, try to get him to eat. He can’t stomach it, only moving from his bed to sit listlessly in the fancy sitting room with his friends, silent and hurt and lost. Night comes again, the men outside his room peek open the door every hour to check he’s still there.

But he is a ninja, to his very core, they couldn't trap him if they tried.

Shadows cling to his shoulders because he asks it of them, sneaking down the halls without a sound. The guards are lax and relaxed, they scan their halls with tired eyes, they yawn and chat and joke, and it's all exploitable weakness. He slips by them easily, it’s no challenge, disgusted by their actions. His guards had been serious, and the fools that thought they could speak into his bedchamber with knives or vials of poison were caught long before they could get close. If Zane willed it, he could slip into the king's room now and reinstate his rule, all it would take is one blade.

His stomach churns and he feels sick immediately.

I made them scared, he reminds himself, they can relax now that I’m dead. My era of pain is over, I won’t harm anyone. The thoughts don’t help him, and he feels unmoored and unsure, disconnected from reality and his body.

The stairs he takes one at a time, carefully. He’d been down here only a handful of times, maybe less, when prisoners were too sickly or injured to be moved to the throne room, when their execution was too important to entrust to another. It was warmer now, a linger smell of blood as the ice trapping it had melted. There’s only one prisoner here, now.

The wood door seems almost innocent. There’s no guard down here, maybe a rotating patrol that would be in at some point, but for now Zane can walk right up to the cell and peek inside.

Vex isn’t asleep, sitting up in bed as staring watchfully at the door as he listens to Zanes approach. He blinks at the sight of him, owlish and shocked.

“My Emperor.” He says dumbly. They’ve stripped of his armor and status, plain clothes hung unfamiliar and strange off his frame. The bed is quaint, nicer than anything they’d provided before, with a thick blanket to keep out the chill. A lamp sits on the floor, lit by a flickering fire. It’s the only light in the room other than Zanes eyes.

“Vex.” He says, surprised when his voice drops an octave on instinct, deeper and more menacing.

The man surges from his bed to the little window between them, "My Emperor." He repeats, devoted and reverent and slimy, "You’ve come to release me. Now is our chance, they are drunk from their celebration, they have underestimated our strength! We can reclaim your throne!”

Vex rambles and his voice is like honey, a soothing balm on the frayed and raw edges of Zanes mind. Familiar and comforting and constant. The storm in his head calms, a rush of relief to the all consuming shame and disgust, the sick unreality he’d been stuck in slipping away with each of his advisors words, and Zane lets his head thunk to rest against the bars. His eyes close while Vex fills the silence with promises of power and retribution, drawing the tension out of his shoulders sentence by sentence. Specific words are lost, his voice running together and fuzzy and tranquil in a way that settles the static threatening his eyes. Zane had tuned out, but his eyes snap open when Vex’s voice trails too close.

"It can be like it was before." he vows, power hungry and opportunist, only a slab of wood away.

Zane studies him for a long moment and Vex doesn't flinch under his eyes, confident in Zanes loyalty. Why else would he come, if not to free him? if not to ask him to help him take back his throne? "they asked me what they should do with you." He says instead of freezing out the lock and letting him go, his voice reverting back to normal, “After they allowed me to live, after I told them all you’d done to me, they asked me what punishment I would pursue.”

Vex draws back, taking a step deeper into his prison.

"They asked me if they should execute you."

Frost crawls up the bars where he clutches them between his fingers, and Vex tracks them with wide eyes, “Execute..?” he breathes, shaking his head, “Is it evil to speak? You'd condemn a man for his words? I held no weapon!” Vex argues instantly, scrambling away from him as the implications for his late-night visit sink in. there was no one here to protect him.

“I was your blade.” he tracks Vex’s movement with his eyes, staying still as a statue as his element overtakes the cell.

“And what a blade you were,” He sneers, back pressed against a cold stone in fear, “How you reveled in bloodshed, I didn't ask you for that. My hands are clean. Who is the beast among us, truly?” he throws, and it hurts to hear more than Zane expects.

He stays silent, years of one-sided conversations engrained in his code so deeply he doesn’t know how to respond.

“And now you've come here to execute me. Your final act as my emperor. What's another stain upon your soul?” Vex grabs at the lamp, holding it close to ward of the encroaching chill even if the cold hadn’t bothered him in years, “And how poetic, that am I destroyed by the monster I created.”

That stings, white hot and painful in his chest, “I am not a monster.” He says, and cant hide the hint of desperation in his voice. His friends had promised him he wasn’t. He cracks the ice forming around his fingers, wrenching his hands from the bars and tucking them beneath his armpits to chase away the frost, “I told them to spare you.”

Vex doesn’t shiver, staring with dark eyes across the space between them, “That doesn’t sound like the ruler I know.” He says, stunned.

Zane feel something in him crack. He grins and it’s all teeth, raw and unkind, “The ice emperor is dead.” He informs him sharply, clenching around himself and hunching his shoulders, looking Vex directly in the eyes. “You are the last of his regime, and it will die with you, whenever that may be. The formling Chief and the King will speak tomorrow to pass your judgement.”

“Why are you here?” Vex flings in response, body tense, “Why have you come?”

Zane has an answer, it crowds behind his teeth and no matter how hard he tries he can’t swallow it, “Because I love you.” the confession tastes like blood, “You were all I had. I trusted you, my greatest friend.”

Vex spits, “If that were true, you’d unlock that door.”

“You deserve this.”

“I hope you die.” Vex tells him, venom in his words that burns across Zane's mind.

He slams into the bars, ice cracking out violently from the wood and stone, and Vex yelps, “I am already dead.” he snarls, anger threatening to sweep away his rational thought. Vex flinches, unused to the ire of the Ice Emperor, frost nipping at his toes.

Silence draws, and Zane pulls away from the bars again. The frost recedes, “I’m leaving tomorrow. I am going home, and this will be the last time we see each other.”

Vex doesn’t say a word, glaring at him between the bars. Heartbeats pass in the quiet, his internal clock ticking before Vex breaks, “What do you want? A goodbye?” he asks hotly, “I never cared about you. You were means to an end.”

Zane doesn’t want a goodbye, not really. He wants Vex to tell him what to do. He wants direction. He doesn’t know how to decide for himself anymore. Years and years on that throne, whispers from Vex’s silver tongue, attack Vex would advise and Zane would jump to it. He did nothing but listen to the whims of his general, he obeyed without question while believing all the while he was hearing a friend. He wants those years back. He wants to recognize himself in the mirror, to know the man looking back, to… to…

He wants to let him go. He wants to listen to Vex’s voice and allow it to wash out the pain, the confusion, the shame. He wants to forget all of it. He wants to believe Vex is his friend, he wants to believe he wouldn’t hurt him.

But he did.

And now all he wants is to kill him.

“Goodbye.” He says, instead of skewering him to the wall. It’s closure, maybe.

He takes the stairs back to the main level two at a time, and when he sneaks back into his room he stagger in, exhausted. He slips beneath the covers half a second before the guards check back in on him, feigning sleep, and when he opens his eyes again he has to turn away from the sunlight cutting across his face- it’s morning. He’d slept through the night. They’ll be gone before the Formling Chief makes it to the capital, he won’t know how Vex’s story ends. He finds, surprised, that it doesn’t really matter.

He’s going home today.

#zane julien #vex ninjago #ninjago #ninjago season 11 #ns11 #spinchip fic

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your-turn-to-role · 4 years ago

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hi okay i hate sending asks to people without knowing them but you seem kind so im trying: during the break, i’ve been working my way through VM, and i’m at episode 75. my question, because i’ve read some of your more recent meta, is “what’s Percy’s deal?” i know he’s loved by the fandom, but i can’t find myself relating to him, and i find his assertions that he’s the only one with a plan offputting. is there more context you can give to me about percy’s character that explains his motivations?

aww, thank you!

(and yeah, asks like this are totally fine, i totally get that anxiety, good job on sending this!)

i mean, first off, you don't have to like a character everyone else does? if you don't relate to percy you can just, not relate to percy, that's fine

(and to be fair, as much as i love him as a character, i would not want him as a friend, because he's a very flawed person that has a lot to work on, but in fiction those traits are interesting to watch rather than difficult to deal with)

but, percy's deal! the short answer is people generally like him because taliesin's funny and charismatic and he does morally grey right, which is rare and a fun thing to explore (also in his relationships with other people, the entire vex-vax-percy-keyleth square is full of neat parallels and opposites and interesting things and i have whole essays in my head on all six combos there)

i don’t know which posts you’ve read so i’ll link this one here too, just to cover a couple more of the generally unnoticed aspects of his character, and things i like about percy

he’s also far from perfect, as you’ve noted, he does tend to believe he’s the smartest person in any given room, because he’s young and clever and used to being that, which you’re allowed to find off putting, but i will say i find he does that less than a lot of characters of his general archetype? he listens to pike, he listens to keyleth, he listens to vex, he respects when they have more knowledge than him on a particular subject, he’s not above asking for help. and generally most of the arguments he has with keyleth on that subject aren’t him asserting he knows more than her, but more a matter of principles and values (they’re a really interesting pair that way, they have similar backgrounds, both children of royalty running away from the crown, but they’re such opposites. percy is a natural leader who would rather anyone rule than him, keyleth fumbles her way through all of it but sticks to it because she doesn’t want to let anyone down, percy is a pragmatist, keyleth is an idealist, they both are too focused on the big picture but in two completely different ways, i could write a whole other post on this, but to get to my point, they wouldn’t be such good balances for each other if percy didn’t absolutely respect where keyleth is coming from)

for the long answer, i’m gonna break this down into parts and try to get to the core of percy's character and why he is the way he is

(under the cut bc this gets long)

1 - heavy trauma

like... this is the really really big one. percy, at age 17 or 18, had his entire life up to that point completely destroyed. his family was killed, his friends were killed, people he trusted like family (professor anders, who was a more present figure in percy's life than his actual parents) betrayed him and helped the briarwoods, he was imprisoned in his own castle's dungeons and tortured for information, they threw his siblings' bodies in there with him to make a point, cassandra helped him escape but as far as he knew she died helping him. he has two years of his life after that he straight up doesn't remember, his hair turned white from the stress of it.

trying to go after ripley the first time didn't work, he was captured and left to starve in a prison cell, for the first few months of travelling with vox machina he genuinely believed it wasn't real, because realistically no one was gonna come save him, this was just a hallucination of his dying mind. returning to whitestone he was forced to confront the fact that literally everyone he ever knew growing up (with the sole exception of archibald) was either dead or working with the briarwoods, and even after retaking the city there's a lot that can never be repaired.

and he's just... never really dealt with any of this? like, he gave vox machina the technical details of what happened to him in the briarwood arc, because they needed to know that information, but the first time he actually started processing his trauma, the first time he admits it out loud to anyone, is the final episode of campaign one. before then it had been occasional snide or handwavey comments, and like, he'll let himself feel the anger over it (in the beginning of the story he encouraged it, because then he didn't have to feel anything else), but he's never processed the grief, never admitted to himself how badly that affected him

which means he's got a lot of pent up emotions in there that he just keeps burying, and sometimes they come out in unhealthy ways. having so much taken from him also makes him really motivated to keep the things he does have - he’s got some deep set abandonment issues and takes any kind of betrayal really badly, don’t know if you’ve got up to the scanlan stuff by the time i post this, but that’s something to keep in mind as to why he acts the way he does there. (and it’s not more explicit because percy was raised nobility, keeping a brave face through anything is part of who he is, he tends to cover emotions he’s insecure about in snark or indifference or, for the intense ones, anger, because those are the things he thinks he’s allowed to show, but the real emotions show up occasionally, when they’re particularly strong, or if you’re reading between the lines. he really does care a lot about vox machina)

2 - legacy and loyalty.

speaking of nobility, it's hard to do a character study on percy without mentioning whitestone and the house of de rolo. this is the number one thing to percy. he was raised to respect title and name, and most importantly, raised to respect the people he represents - both the townsfolk of whitestone and also percy's ancestors and future de rolo generations. whitestone is more important than any one life, he has a duty to protect and serve it, and that comes before any personal wants he may have. it's also important to him for family reasons - he was a pretty lonely child, but he loved reading about the history of the city, all the weird ghost stories whitestone had even before the briarwoods. it probably made him feel more connected to all of that, this is the place he belongs. and after his family dies, it becomes even more important, because this is his connection to them. the soul of a city lives as long as its people, by protecting what's left, he keeps a little bit of what came before

(and also in just tidbits to understand percy's character, he sees all cities and man-made things the same way - in a world where some races live for centuries or millennia, their history exists mostly by word of mouth, you can physically talk to people who were around 500 years ago and get their take on things - humans don't have that, they get 100 years at most, so the things they build are vital to their heritage. this is how you keep people alive long after they're gone, by honouring what they created. and especially for someone so concerned with legacy and history, percy literally says abandoning westruun would be blasphemy, because the place people grew up is important, yes it's better that they live, but letting the city be abandoned and destroyed would be an irreparable act of violence.)

this is the number one thing on percy's mind when evaluating anything about himself, where do i come from, and what do i leave behind? which is a question that has a lot of moments to be tested, because of my next point...

3 - pragmatism and terrible thoughts

when it comes down to it, percy is a very ends justify the means kind of person. he finds it very easy to square away any kind of collateral damage as long as it gets him to his end goal. see: trial of the take, where he's fine to catch his friends in the blast radius of a new bomb design because he's so excited that it worked, preparing to fight vorugal and resigning himself to potentially having to kill innocent people to kill the dragon (he wasn’t okay with that, but he would do it), also his conscious decision to let ripley go, knowing she would lead to the deaths of thousands because it was her or the briarwoods and he wanted revenge

(this is by his own admission his lowest point and worst mistake, because as mentioned, he thinks about the consequences of his actions near constantly, he knew she would reproduce his guns and they would lead to a whole new form of warfare. but in that moment he was just blinded by grief and way too emotionally burnt out and did not have the capacity to care. and he spends the rest of the campaign and honestly probably the rest of his life trying to make up for that one)

he's also, by his own admission, someone who has a lot of bad thoughts he doesn't act on, he's very clever and creative and ideas for ways to use those skills for violence or vengeance come easily to him (like, percy as an actual villain would be ripley but worse, ripley's intelligent but a very direct point a to point b kind of thinker, percy has multiple times criticised her lack of imagination, a percy with her lack of morals would be terrifying)

(honestly this is why i was seeing percy so much in taliesin's narrative telephone, because "sometimes i wake up having dreamed of a terrible thing, and normally i just file that away for things that i would never do, because i wanna maintain friendships, but then LIAM did something to me." and the whole being absolutely fine with throwing the rest of the cast under the bus just to enact revenge on liam was quintessential percy)

but we’ve seen the pragmatic anti hero everywhere, anyone can be a terrible person, and have reasons for it, that alone doesn’t make an interesting character (at least not for me)

what does, is my last point

4 - trying to be good

i still vividly remember when i first watched campaign one, being really surprised at how much percy asked for help? like, i went in expecting the usual full on demon possession storyline, i expected percy to hide how bad it was, i expected him to make poor decisions without realising he was doing it until he was in too deep to back out

and like, he had some of that. but at the first sign of things being out of his control, he asked his friends for help. he let pike greater restoration him. he told vax to kill him if things ever got too out of hand. he was really, genuinely scared about what he got himself into and what he might do because of it. there was never a point where he pretended, even to himself, that making a deal with orthax was okay. the minute he realised there was a demon involved, he was working to stop it. and yeah, by the time he realised it was already a bit too late, there were already some things out of his control (and also taliesin kept having the worst rolls against the whitestone corruption which was really fun on a meta level), which is how things got as bad as they did. but honestly, all things considered, there’s very little to criticise about the way percy handled himself in the briarwood arc.

and he keeps doing that, trying to get better. he struggles with it, he struggles a lot, against his anger issues, against all the trauma, against the fact that he really doesn’t want to be here and things would be so much easier if he were dead. but he recognises he holds grudges too easily, so he starts actively trying to forgive those who’ve wronged him (this is something he and vex have in common, and something they were working on together before they were together, which probably helped a lot in getting them to that point as well). he recognises he makes poor decisions when he’s angry, so he starts learning to step back in those moments and leave the decisions to someone else. he has never not owned up to his mistakes, he takes responsibility for everything he’s done, and if he notices a problem he can’t solve himself, he asks for help.

and i find that fun to explore. like, percy’s been likened to hamlet in the actual show, and i was the kid who got super obsessed with hamlet when i was like 15 because i was in that same mental space of suicidal self hatred and existential melancholy but also thinking i was the smartest person in any given room and being too young to have gotten over the arrogance that makes you ignore everyone else’s needs for the sake of indulging your own problems. and then i got older and realised there are smarter ways to go about things, like having empathy and appreciating the light in the world and not being a dickhead to people because it makes you feel better, and maybe hamlet can be justified and in the wrong at the same time. and while there’s some stuff i won’t spoil for you, percy after ripley kills him is definitely starting to learn that, which you rarely see in the hamlet archetype, bc everyone’s like “ah yes so Deep so Important who cares what bad things this person did they had Trauma and are Clever”

well, percy cares about the bad things he did, and cares about not doing those anymore. so like, he’s still a disaster of a person bc he’s like 23 and no one has their life together at 23, especially not someone in percy’s situation, and honestly i find that fun to watch as well bc i like watching characters make stupid mistakes and do stuff i’d never approve of in real life, and as i mentioned at the start, taliesin makes captivating and funny characters. but yeah, that’s generally where percy’s at, most of the time

#would you believe me if i said this was the second shorter attempt at answering this ask?#i honestly tried to pare it down but this hit at least 6 or 7 separate essays in my head that all wanted to be included #and then i had to figure out how to combine them #my brain keeps giving me more things i should add but i think this is enough to be going on with for now 😂#but hey anyone who likes listening to me talk about percy know i can keep going #this is my word MINIMUM #(and it's still over 2k im so sorry)#but yeah hope this helped!#cr1 #percy de rolo #cr thoughts #text #meta #ask #megabees3

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hieromonkcharbel · 4 years ago

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Vibia Perpetua, was executed in the arena in Carthage on 7 March 203. The account of her martyrdom - technically a Passion -is apparently historical and has special interest as much of it was written [section 3-10], in Latin by Perpetua herself before her death. This makes it one of the earliest pieces of writing by a Christian woman.

PROLOGUE

1. If ancient examples of faith kept, both testifying the grace of God and working the edification of man, have to this end been set in writing, that by their reading as though by the showing of the deeds again, God may be glorified and man strengthened; why should not new witnesses also be so set forth which likewise serve either end? Yea, for these things also shall at some time be ancient and necessary to our sons, though in their own present time (through some reverence of antiquity presumed) they are made of but slight account. But let those take heed who judge the one power of the Holy Spirit according to the succession of times; whereas those things which are later ought for their very lateness to be thought the more eminent, according to the abundance of grace appointed for the last periods of time. For In the last days, says the Lord, I will pour my spirit upon all flesh, and their sons and daughters shall prophesy; and upon my servants and upon my handmaids I will pour forth of my spirit; and the young men shall see visions, and the old men shall dream dreams. [Acts 2:17, cf. Joel 2:28]

We also therefore, by whom both the prophecies and the new visions promised are received and honored, and by whom those other wonders of the Holy Spirit are assigned unto the service of the Church, to which also was sent the same Spirit administering all gifts among all men, according as the Lord hath distributed unto each [I.Cor 7:17]- do of necessity both write them and by reading celebrate them to the glory of God; that no weakness or failing of faith may presume that among those of old time only was the grace of divinity present, whether in martyrs or in revelations vouchsafed; since God ever works that which He has promised, for a witness to them that believe not and a benefit to them that believe. Wherefore we too, brethren and dear sons, declare to you likewise that which we have heard and handled [I Cor 15:1?]; that both you who were present may call to mind the glory of the Lord, and you who now know by hearing may have communion with those holy martyrs, and through them with the Lord Jesus Christ, to whom is glory and honor for ever and ever. Amen.

2. There were apprehended the young catechumens, Revocatus and Felicity his fellow servant, Saturninus and Secundulus. With them also was Vibia Perpetua, nobly born reared in a liberal manner, wedded honorably; having a father and mother and two brothers, one of them a catechumen likewise, and a son, a child at the breast; and she herself was about twenty-two years of age. What follows here shall she tell herself; the whole order of her martyrdom as she left it written with her own hand and in her own words.

PERPETUA'S ACCOUNT

3. When, she said, we were still under legal surveillance and my father was liked to vex me with his words and continually strove to hurt my faith because of his love: Father, said I, Do you see (for examples) this vessel lying, a pitcher or whatsoever it may be? And he said, I see it. And I said to him, Can it be called by any other name than that which it is? And he answered, No. So can I call myself nought other than that which I am, a Christian.

Then my father angry with this word came upon me to tear out my eyes; but he only vexed me, and he departed vanquished, he and the arguments of the devil. Then because I was without my father for a few days I gave thanks unto the Lord; and I was comforted because of his absence. In this same space of a few days we were baptised, and the Spirit declared to me, I must pray for nothing else after that water save only endurance of the flesh. After a few days we were taken into prison, and I was much afraid because I had never known such darkness. O bitter day! There was a great heat because of the press, there was cruel handling of the soldiers. Lastly I was tormented there by care for the child.

Then Tertius and Pomponius, the blessed deacons who ministered to us, obtained with money that for a few hours we should be taken forth to a better part of the prison and be refreshed. Then all of them going out from the dungeon took their pleasure; I suckled my child that was now faint with hunger. And being careful for him, I spoke to my mother and strengthened my brother and commended my son unto them. I pined because I saw they pined for my sake. Such cares I suffered for many days; and I obtained that the child should abide with me in prison; and straightway I became well and was lightened of my labour and care for the child; and suddenly the prison was made a palace for me, so that I would sooner be there than anywhere else.

4. Then said my brother to me: Lady my sister, you are now in high honor, even such that you might ask for a vision; and it should be shown you whether this be a passion or else a deliverance. And I, as knowing that I conversed with the Lord, for Whose sake I had suffered such things, did promise him nothing doubting; and I said: Tomorrow I will tell you. And I asked, and this was shown me.

I beheld a ladder of bronze, marvelously great, reaching up to heaven; and it was narrow, so that not more than one might go up at one time. And in the sides of the ladder were planted all manner of things of iron. There were swords there, spears, hooks, and knives; so that if any that went up took not good heed or looked not upward, he would be torn and his flesh cling to the iron. And there was right at the ladder's foot a serpent lying, marvelously great, which lay in wait for those that would go up, and frightened them that they might not go up. Now Saturus went up first (who afterwards had of his own free will given up himself for our -sakes, because it was he who had edified us; and when we were taken he had not been there). And he came to the ladder's head; and he turned and said: Perpetua, I await you; but see that serpent bite you not. And I said: it shall not hurt me, in the name of Jesus Christ. And from beneath the ladder, as though it feared me, it softly put forth its head; and as though I trod on the first step I trod on its head. And I went up, and I saw a very great space of garden, and in the midst a man sitting, white-headed, in shepherd's clothing, tall milking his sheep; and standing around in white were many thousands. And he raised his head and beheld me and said to me: Welcome, child. And he cried to me, and from the curd he had from the milk he gave me as it were a morsel; and I took it with joined hands and ate it up; and all that stood around said, Amen. And at the sound of that word I awoke, yet eating I know not what of sweet.

And at once I told my brother, and we knew it should be a passion; and we began to have no hope any longer in this world.

5. A few days after, the report went abroad that we were to be tried. Also my father returned from the city spent with weariness; and he came up to me to cast down my faith saying: Have pity, daughter, on my grey hairs; have pity on your father, if I am worthy to be, called father by you; if with these hands I have brought you unto this flower of youth- and I-have preferred you before all your brothers; give me not over to the reproach of men. Look upon your brothers; look upon your mother and mother's sister; look upon your son, who will not endure to live after you. Give up your resolution; do not destroy us all together; for none of us will speak openly against men again if you suffer aught.

This he said fatherly in his love, kissing my hands and grovelling at my feet; and with tears he named me, not daughter, but lady. And I was grieved for my father's case because he would not rejoice at my passion out of all my kin; and I comforted him, saying: That shall be done at this tribunal, whatsoever God shall please; for know that we are not established in our own power, but in God's. And he went from me very sorrowful.

6. Another day as we were at meal we were suddenly snatched away to be tried; and we came to the forum. Therewith a report spread abroad through the parts near to the forum, and a very great multitude gathered together. We went up to the tribunal. The others being asked, confessed. So they came to me. And my father appeared there also, with my son, and would draw me from the step, saying: Perform the Sacrifice; have mercy on the child. And Hilarian the procurator - he that after the death of Minucius Timinian the proconsul had received in his room the right and power of the sword - said: Spare your father's grey hairs; spare the infancy of the boy. Make sacrifice for the Emperors' prosperity. And I answered: I am a Christian. And when my father stood by me yet to cast down my faith, he was bidden by Hilarian to be cast down and was smitten with a rod. And I sorrowed for my father's harm as though I had been smitten myself; so sorrowed I for his unhappy old age. Then Hilarian passed sentence upon us all and condemned us to the beasts; and cheerfully we went down to the dungeon. Then because my child had been used to being breastfed and to staying with me in the prison, straightway I sent Pomponius the deacon to my father, asking for the child. But my father would not give him. And as God willed, no longer did he need to be suckled, nor did I take fever; that I might not be tormented by care for the child and by the pain of my breasts.

7. A few days after, while we were all praying, suddenly in the midst of the prayer I uttered a word and named Dinocrates; and I was amazed because he had never come into my mind save then; and I sorrowed, remembering his fate. And straightway I knew that I was worthy, and that I ought to ask for him. And I began to pray for him long, and to groan unto the Lord. Immediately the same night, this was shown me.

I beheld Dinocrates coming forth from a dark place, where were many others also; being both hot and thirsty, his raiment foul, his color pale; and the wound on his face which he had when he died. This Dinocrates had been my brother in the flesh, seven years old, who being diseased with ulcers of the face had come to a horrible death, so that his death was abominated of all men. For him therefore I had made my prayer; and between him and me was a great gulf, so that either might not go to the other. There was moreover, in the same place where Dinocrates was, a font full of water, having its edge higher than was the boy's stature; and Dinocrates stretched up as though to drink. I was sorry that the font had water in it, and yet for the height of the edge he might not drink.

And I awoke, and I knew that my brother was in travail. Yet I was confident I should ease his travail; and I prayed for him every day till we passed over into the camp prison. (For it was in the camp games that we were to fight; and the time was the feast of the Emperor Geta's birthday.) And I prayed for him day and night with groans and tears, that he might be given me.

8. On the day when we abode in the stocks, this was shown me.

I saw that place which I had before seen, and Dinocrates clean of body, finely clothed, m comfort; and the font I had seen before, the edge of it being drawn to the boy's navel; and he drew water thence which flowed without ceasing. And on the edge was a golden cup full of water; and Dinocrates came up and began to drink therefrom; which cup failed not. And being satisfied he departed away from the water and began to play as children will, joyfully.

And I awoke. Then I understood that he was translated from his pains.

9. Then a few days after, Pudens the adjutant, in whose charge the prison was, who also began to magnify us because he understood that there was much grace in us, let in many to us that both we and they in turn might be comforted. Now when the day of the games drew near, there came in my father to me , spent with weariness, and began to pluck out his beard and throw it on e ground and to fall on his face cursing his years and saying such words as might move all creation. I was grieved for his unhappy old age.

10. The day before we fought, I saw in a vision that Pomponius the deacon had come hither to the door of the prison, and knocked hard upon it. And I went out to him and opened to him; he was clothed in a white robe ungirdled, having shoes curiously wrought. And he said to me: Perpetua, we await you; come. And he took my hand, and we began to go through rugged and winding places. At last with much breathing hard we came to the amphitheatre, and he led me into the midst of the arena. And he said to me: Be not afraid; I am here with you and labour together with you. And he went away. And I saw much people watching closely. And because I knew that I was condemned to the beasts I marvelled that beasts were not sent out against me. And there came out against me a certain ill-favored Egyptian with his helpers, to fight with me. Also there came to me comely young men, my helpers and aiders. And I was stripped naked, and I became a man. And my helpers began to rub me with oil as their custom is for a contest; and over against me saw that Egyptian wallowing in the dust. And there came forth a man of very great stature, so that he overpassed the very top of the amphitheatre, wearing a robe ungirdled, and beneath it between the two stripes over the breast a robe of purple; having also shoes curiously wrought in gold and silver; bearing a rod like a master of gladiators, and a green branch whereon were golden apples. And he besought silence and said: The Egyptian, if shall conquer this woman, shall slay her with the sword; and if she shall conquer him, she shall receive this branch. And he went away. And we came nigh to each other, and began to buffet one another. He tried to trip up my feet, but I with my heels smote upon his face. And I rose up into the air and began so to smite him as though I trod not the earth. But when I saw that there was yet delay, I joined my hands, setting finger against finger of them. And I caught his head, and he fell upon his face; and I trod upon his head. And the people began to shout, and my helpers began to sing. And I went up to the master of gladiators and received the branch. And he kissed me and said to me: Daughter, peace be with you. And I began to go with glory to the gate called the Gate of Life.

And I awoke; and I understood that I should fight, not with beasts but against the devil; but I knew that mine was the victory.

Thus far I have written this, till the day before the games; but the deed of the games tehmsleves let him write who will.

SATURUS' ACCOUNT

11. And blessed Saturus too delivered this vision which he himself wrote down.

We had suffered, he said, and we passed out of the flesh, and we began to be carried towards the east by four angels whose hand touched us not. And we went not as though turned upwards upon our backs, but as though we went up an easy hill. And passing over the world's edge we saw a very great light; and I said to Perpetua (for she was at my side): This which the Lord promised us; we have received His promise. And while we were being carried by these same four angels, a great space opened before us, as it had been a having rose-trees and all kinds of flowers. The height of the trees was after the manner of the cypress, and their leaves sang without ceasing. And there in the garden were four other angels, more glorious than the rest; who when they saw us gave us honor and said to the other angels: Lo, here are they, here are they: and marvelled. And the four angels who bore us set us down trembling; and we passed on foot by a broad way over a plain. There we found Jocundus and Saturninus and Artaxius who in the same persecution had been burned alive; and Quintus, a martyr also, who in prison had departed this life; and we asked of them where were the rest. The other angels said to us: Come first, go in, and salute the Lord.

12. And we came near to a place, of which place the walls were such, they seemed built of light; and before the door of that place stood four angels who clothed us when we went in with white raiment. And we went in, and we heard as it were one voice crying Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, without any end. And we saw sitting in that same place as it were a man, white-headed, having hair like snow; youthful of countenance; whose feet we saw not. And on his right hand and on his left, four elders; and behind them stood many other elders. And we went in with wonder and stood before the throne; and the four angels raised us up and we kissed him, and with his hand he passed over our faces. And the other elders said to us: Stand you. And we stood, and gave the kiss of peace. And the elders said to us: Go you and play. And I said to Perpetua: You have that which you desire. And she said to me: Yes, God be thanked; so that I that was glad in the flesh am now more glad.

13. And we went out, and we saw before the doors, on the right Optatus the bishop, and on the left Aspasius the priest and teacher, being apart and sorrowful. And they cast themselves at our feet and said: Make peace between us, because you went forth and left us thus. And we said to them: Are not you our Father, and you our priest, that you should throw yourselves at our feet? And we were moved, and embraced them. And Perpetua began to talk with them in Greek; and we set them apart in the pleasure garden beneath a rose tree. And while we yet spoke with them, the angels said to them: Let these go and be refreshed; and whatsoever dissensions you have between you, Put them away from you each for each. And they made them to be confounded. And they said to Optatus: Correct your people; for they come to you as those that return from the games and wrangle concerning the parties there. And it seemed to us as though they would shut the gates. And we began to know many brothers there, martyrs also. And we were all sustained there with a savour inexpressible which satisfied us. Then in joy I awoke.

NARRATIVE OF MARTYRDOM

14. These were the glorious visions of those martyrs themselves, the most blessed Saturus and Perpetua, which they themselves wrote down. But Secundulus by an earlier end God called from this world while he was yet in prison; not without grace, that he should escape the beasts. Yet if not his soul, his flesh at least knew the sword.

15. As for Felicity, she too received this grace of the Lord. For because she was now gone eight months (being indeed with child when she was taken) she was very sorrowful as the day of the games drew near, fearing lest for this cause she should be kept back (for it is not lawful for women that are with child to be brought forth for torment) and lest she should shed her holy and innocent blood after the rest, among strangers and malefactors. Also her fellow martyrs were much afflicted lest they should leave behind them so good a friend and as it were their fellow-traveller on the road of the same hope. Wherefore with joint and united groaning they poured out their prayer to the Lord, three days before the games. Incontinently after their prayer her pains came upon her. And when by reason of the natural difficulty of the eighth month she was oppressed with her travail and made complaint, there said to her one of the servants of the keepers of the door: You that thus make complaint now, what wilt you do when you are thrown to the beasts, which you didst contemn when you would not sacrifice? And she answered, I myself now suffer that which I suffer, but there another shall be in me who shall suffer for me, because I am to suffer for him. So she was delivered of a daughter, whom a sister reared up to be her own daughter.

16. Since therefore the Holy Spirit has suffered, and suffering has willed, that the order of the games also should be written; though we are unworthy to finish the recounting of so great glory, yet we accomplish the will of the most holy Perpetua, nay rather her sacred trust, adding one testimony more of her own steadfastness and height of spirit. When they were being more cruelly handled by the tribune. because through advice of certain most despicable men he feared lest by magic charms they might be withdrawn secretly from the prison house, Perpetua answered him to his face: Why do you not allow us to take some comfort, seeing we are victims most noble, namely Caesar's, and on his feast day we are to fight? Or is it not your glory that we should be taken out thither fatter of flesh? The tribune trembled and blushed, and gave order that they should be more gently handled, granting that her brothers and the rest should come in and rest with them. Also the adjutant of the prison now believed.

17. Likewise on the day before the games, when at the last feast which they call Free they made (as far as they might) not a Free Feast but a Love Feast*, with like hardihood they cast these words at the people; threatening the judgment of the Lord, witnessing to the felicity of their passion, setting at nought the curiosity of those that ran together. And Saturus said: Is not tomorrow sufficient for you? Why do you favorably behold that which you hate? You are friends today, foes tomorrow. Yet mark our faces diligently, that you may know us again on that day. So they began all to go away thence astonished; of whom many believed.

[note: Apparently Roman, as with modern, custom the condemned were allowed a choice of food. The martyrs used the opportunity to celebrate an Agape, or Christian Love-Feast.]

18. Now dawned the day of their victory, and they went forth from the prison into the amphitheatre as it were into heaven, cheerful and bright of countenance; if they trembled at all, it was for joy, not for fear. Perpetua followed behind, glorious of presence, as a true spouse of Christ and darling of God; at whose piercing look all cast down their eyes. Felicity likewise, rejoicing that she had borne a child in safety, that she might fight with the beasts, came now from blood to blood, from the midwife to the gladiator, to wash after her travail in a second baptism. And when they had been brought to the gate and were being compelled to put on, the men the dress of the priests of Saturn, the women the dress of the priestesses of Ceres, the noble Perpetua remained of like firmness to the end, and would not. For she said: For this cause came we willingly unto this, that our liberty might not be obscured. For this cause have we devoted our lives, that we might do no such thing as this; this we agreed with you. Injustice acknowledged justice; the tribune suffered that they should be brought forth as they were, without more ado. Perpetua began to sing, as already treading on the Egyptian's head. Revocatus and Saturninus and Saturus threatened the people as they gazed. Then when they came into Hilarian's sight, they began to say to Hilarian, stretching forth their hands and nodding their heads: You judge us, they said, and God you. At this the people being enraged besought that they should be vexed with scourges before the line of gladiators (those namely who fought with beasts). Then truly they gave thanks because they had received somewhat of the sufferings of the Lord.

19. But He who had said Ask and you shall receive [John 16:24] gave to them asking that end which each had desired. For whenever they spoke together of their desire in their martyrdom, Saturninus for his part would declare that he wished to be thrown to every kind of beast, that so indeed he might wear the more glorious crown. At the beginning of the spectacle therefore himself with Revocatus first had ado with a leopard and was afterwards torn by a bear on a raised bridge. Now Saturus detested nothing more than a bear, but was confident already he should die by one bite of a leopard. Therefore when he was being given to a boar, the gladiator instead who had bound him to the boar was torn asunder by the same beast and died after the days of the games; nor was Saturus more than dragged. Moreover when he had been tied on the bridge to be assaulted by a bear, the bear would not come forth from his den. So Saturus was called back unharmed a second time.

20. But for the women the devil had made ready a most savage cow, prepared for this purpose against all custom; for even in this beast he would mock their sex. They were stripped therefore and made to put on nets; and so they were brought forth. The people shuddered, seeing one a tender girl, the other her breasts yet dropping from her late childbearing. So they were called back and clothed in loose robes. Perpetua was first thrown, and fell upon her loins. And when she had sat upright, her robe being rent at the side, she drew it over to cover her thigh, mindful rather of modesty than of pain. Next, looking for a pin, she likewise pinned up her dishevelled hair; for it was not meet that a martyr should suffer with hair dishevelled, lest she should seem to grieve in her glory. So she stood up; and when she saw Felicity smitten down, she went up and gave her her hand and raised her up.. And both of them stood up together and the (hardness of the people being now subdued) were called back to the Gate of Life. There Perpetua being received by one named Rusticus, then a catechumen, who stood close at her side, and as now awakening from sleep (so much was she in the Spirit and in ecstasy) began first to look about her; and then (which amazed all there), When, forsooth, she asked, are we to be thrown to the cow? And when she heard that this had been done already, she would not believe till she perceived some marks of mauling on her body and on her dress. Thereupon she called her brother to her, and that catechumen, and spoke to them, saying: Stand fast in the faith, and love you all one another; and be not offended because of our passion.

21. Saturus also at another gate exhorted Pudens the soldier, saying: So then indeed, as I trusted and foretold, I have felt no assault of beasts until now. And now believe with all your heart. Behold, I go out thither and shall perish by one bite of the leopard. And immediately at the end of the spectacle, the leopard being released, with one bite of his he was covered with so much blood that the people (in witness to his second baptism) cried out to him returning: Well washed, well washed. Truly it was well with him who had washed in this wise. Then said he to Pudens the soldier: Farewell; remember the faith and me; and let not these things trouble you, but strengthen you. And therewith he took from Pudens' finger a little ring, and dipping it in his wound gave it back again for an heirloom, leaving him a pledge and memorial of his blood. Then as the breath left him he was cast down with the rest in the accustomed place for his throat to be cut. And when the people besought that they should be brought forward, that when the sword pierced through their bodies their eyes might be joined thereto as witnesses to the slaughter, they rose of themselves and moved, whither the people willed them, first kissing one another, that they might accomplish their martyrdom with the rites of peace. The rest not moving and in silence received the sword; Saturus much earlier gave up the ghost; for he had gone up earlier also, and now he waited for Perpetua likewise. But Perpetua, that she might have some taste of pain, was pierced between the bones and shrieked out; and when the swordsman's hand wandered still (for he was a novice), herself set it upon her own neck. Perchance so great a woman could not else have been slain (being feared of the unclean spirit) had she not herself so willed it.

O most valiant and blessed martyrs! O truly called and elected unto the glory of Our Lord Jesus Christ! Which glory he that magnifies, honors and adores, ought to read these witnesses likewise, as being no less than the old, unto the Church's edification; that these new wonders also may testify that one and the same Holy Spirit works ever until now, and with Him God the Father Almighty, and His Son Jesus Christ Our Lord, to Whom is glory and power unending for ever and ever. Amen.

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geckolady · 3 years ago

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Skulduggery Pleasant: Raising Cain - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Escape attempt

Stephanie woke in a small, dark room in the freezing cold sometime later. Resting on the floor in an extremely uncomfortable position, she tried to see if anyone was with her. She couldn't hear anyone and she honestly couldn't tell the difference between eyes open and closed.

She struggled to sit up as her hands were behind her back but managed it just as the door to the cell, and she was sure it was a cell, opened with a bang against the wall.

The sudden light after so much dark was almost blinding and she didn't see who dragged her up and out before she was halfway down the hall. It was the same man that had run in the room right before she'd passed out. Her thoughts went to Wolf, to her other friends. She hoped they were okay.

"Where are we?" She asked the man.

He snorted. "Do you really think I'm going to tell you that?"

"It's not like I'm going anywhere," she pointed out. "Also, that cut of yours looks infected." He reached out and yanked her hair sharply and she yelped out in pain. "Fuck you!"

He growled at her and pushed her up the steps. Stephanie stayed quiet and tried to think of what she could do. Until she knew if her friends were here there was no point leaving. Then again, if they were all here she would need to escape to get back up. She tried not to panic and followed the man despite the growing anxiety clawing at her stomach.

They entered a large room with at least twenty of the paper men and a few real men she didn't know lined up against the walls. No females of any type except herself. In the middle of the room stood Serpine. Stephanie was brought a few metres in front of the man and forced to her knees.

"Ah, I've been waiting for you to awake," Serpine said. "I think you might just know what I want."

Stephanie refused to say anything and glared at the small scar above his eyebrow. She hoped Skulduggery had given it to him.

"I have a little bargain for you. I know Pleasant and his Dead Men have decided to take you under their wing and make you their newest member. Usually, I'd dismiss anything they thought, but then I met you," he said, stepping forward slowly, looking her over. "You are young and weak now, but you show a lot of potential. You killed one of my men. Did you know that? Oh yes, he died quickly from his wound. I expect you would make a great apprentice and under my mentorship, you can help me take over this world and crush those that don't believe in us, that look down on us. Doesn't that sound better, my love? Doesn't that sound better than following muddy dogs around like a stray they took in to feel good about themselves?"

Stephanie tried to look blank faced. Gordon had written that that was a good thing to do.

"But with me,” he continued, “I will mentor you to your absolute greatest and you will aid me in completing all my dreams. You can be my daughter. I can be your father, and I will love you as my own. One day, they will look at us as saints and the beginners of the enlightenment. Do you want that, my daughter? Don't you want greatness?"

His hand came around and cupped her cheek. She glared into his eyes. "The Dead Men love me. And Gordon is my dad!"

He laughed deeply and struck her cheek hard enough for her eyes to water. "Would you listen to that? She thinks they love her. Darling, they will use you and hurt you until you can't stand and then feed you to their enemy as bait for their own ends. I will give you one final chance to join me before I am forced to torture you to death."

She pretended to think about it. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass."

"Oh?" He chuckled. "And how's that? Are you going to negotiate?"

"Yes. I will get you the Sceptre, but you have to let me go."

"And why would I do that? Do you not think that I won't know you'll run off?"

She shrugged. "Well, I don't exactly have anywhere to go. If I try and run, you'll find me and even if I do try I won't get far without magic and a passport."

He stared deep into her eyes and a grin slowly spread across his features. He leaned in close enough she could smell the coffee on his breath. "You are not in a position to bargain. Take her to the dungeon!"

Stephanie was yanked to her feet and followed the man willingly out the room – she didn't like all those paper men, and Serpine wasn't helping.

But what now? She was away from those eyes but she was still with her guard. She couldn't act like her friends were all free, or even one of them was, or even that they knew where she was if they weren't in the cells around her. She needed to get herself out, though knowing if she had to break out someone else would be good too. She expected Wolf would be but she'd already gone through the maze of the dungeons and didn't expect she could find him. And her fighting wasn't good enough to take down these people and she didn’t even know any magic!

"You're annoying," she told her guard.

"What?" He said. "Shut up. Stupid kid."

"Can't you tell me where we are now? What if I guess? We're at Serpine's house? Mansion? Wait, is it a castle?"

"How'd you guess that?" The man asked, looking at her.

"Castles have dungeons, dummy. What about my friends?"

"I can't tell you anything kid," he said. "Just stay quiet and keep your head down. You shouldn't be involved. You're a kid."

"Well I am, so tell me if my friends are safe."

"I don't know."

"So they're not here?" She asked.

He hesitated.

"Some of them are here? How many? I bet Wolf is."

"Who the hell is Wolf?" He asked.

"Dexter Vex," she clarified. "Is anyone else here? Are the other's safe?"

He shook his head, but she didn't think it was an answer more so than in annoyance. They came up to her cell and she was pushed into it. "Wait!"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "What?"

She hesitated. "I need to pee."

He gaped at her. "What do you want me to do about it?"

She bit her lip. "Put my hands on my front. Then you can leave."

"I know I can leave." He said but got a set of keys out and came into the cell to move her shackles around. She waited until he had to move around her to reattach the cuff before striking – she twisted and punched him in the neck as hard as she could, and he let go of her other hand to stumble back and she stepped towards him to deliver a blow to his nose. He cried out and she wrapped her cuffed hand around the spare cuff and used it to punch him with the metal in the temple, which was strong enough to get him on the ground and it was just a simple matter of stamping on his head three times before he stopped moving.

She breathed hard and listened carefully. There was no sound except the slow drip of water elsewhere and the quiet breathing of the man on the floor. Quietly, she searched his pockets and found several cuffs, a flip-knife and of course the keys. She also took the chocolate bar that had melted slightly but since he had captured her, she felt she deserved it anyway.

She put everything in her various pockets, thankful for Wolf's advice already and of Panda for his amazing creation. She closed the cell door on him and locked it. She had no idea where her friends would be, or if anyone would come looking. With everyone upstairs, she figured that her guard would be expected back soon with either one of her friends or else for a meeting, or just by his fellow guard friends. She started looking through the open peek-hole on the doors, going through aisle after aisle of cells. She was beginning to give up hope of finding Wolf when she saw a cell peek-hole closed in the distance. She ran to it and carefully opened it.

Wolf and Snake looked up at her. They grinned.

She put a finger over her lips and got the keys out, looking left and right as she did. The cell was opened quickly, and she got them out their shackles. Luckily, it was one-key-fits-all.

"How did you get free?" Snake asked her in a whisper.

"No one expects to get their ass handed to them by a girl half their size. Come on, we need to get the others."

"Are they all here?" Wolf asked.

"I don't know. Snake, did you see anything?"

Erskine shook his head. "I know Skulduggery is here. I heard him with Serpine, but I don't remember who was hurt or not in the fight, they dragged me from the room at the start."

"Alright. Where do you think Crow is?"

They started scouring the cells together and came across Skulduggery whistling in his cell.

"Come to – oh hello," he said when they opened his cell. "How did you get free?"

"Tell you later," she said, unlocking his shackles as Wolf and Snake kept an eye on the halls. She could see them acting as a team now, as a unit. It was very privileging seeing a group as close as this able to protected her, to see them flow together so well. She desperately wanted to learn how to fit into that flow and learn them so well she could work without words too. "Who else came in with you?"

"Saracen and Anton got free but I know Ghastly is here. Any idea on times?" Crow informed them.

"Probably none. I got free at least ten minutes ago. The guard was probably expected back with someone," she said. "If we get Panda we might be able to fight our way out but there are a lot of people up there."

He looked at her sharply as they left the cell and the other two closed around them. She closed the door to make it seem like they hadn't been there. "You went upstairs?"

"I was taken. Let's talk later."

He nodded, and they split into two, Stephanie sticking with Crow, and they searched the last few rows of cells. He wasn't there though, and they were forced to do a running check back through the cells just in case. Stephanie rounded the corner just as four paper men went around the corner of the next aisle and she almost fell to the floor stopping Crow running passed her, and had to throw herself in front of Snake to stop him running passed too.

They waited a few moments as the soft rustling and thud, thud, thud of the paper men moved through the cells. Slowly, Stephanie stepped forwards and crouched down, looking around the corner. The paper men had stood outside a cell. She crept back.

"Guards," she said. They frowned. "At Panda's cell, I bet."

They nodded, and the three men looked at each other before Wolf and Snake jogged silently to the other side of the aisle of cells to come from the other side. Crow held up three fingers. Two. One.

They raced around the corner at the same moment as the others and rushed at the paper men. The four split and Stephanie was quick to simply run passed them and get the door open. Panda was unconscious but even after she got his cuffs off and patted his cheek he didn't so much as flutter an eyelid. She looked up to see Crow looking into the cell. There was a sudden shout from somewhere else. Their time had run out.

Wolf pushed in and pulled Panda onto his shoulders and pushed Stephanie out the door with his leg. She ran with the others to the stairs. At least twenty people must have entered the dungeon, but they didn't see anyone as they’d scattered to find them. They waited a moment for Snake to check the hall and then made a run up the stairs.

They were confronted with forty paper men at least and the three able to fight immediately began to rip into them but with no weapons they were soon choking in the gas, except for Crow who stood in the middle of the group pulling arms until he had a pile in a circle around him and he had to step high to get over the bodies. They ran from the last few who were slow to run after them.

Stephanie didn't see any way out at first but as soon as she saw the window she pulled her jacket off and let Snake grab it from her roughly and sprint ahead to jump through it.

They all followed and landed badly, though Crow did use magic to make their lands a bit better focusing on Wolf since he had Panda who was still out cold. Stephanie fell to the floor badly and felt her leg pull but rolled and started running after the others. Crow was the one who kept back to stay behind her and keep her safe, the others getting far ahead much too quick for her to keep up with. She looked back quickly before they went into the trees and saw what could have been thirty paper men and at least a dozen other guards running after them.

She squeaked and ran faster after Wolf and Snake, taking far too long to get to a big wall. Stephanie saw Wolf, with Panda, scale it in just one jump, push himself to swing over the wall, flash a grin at her, and fell from sight. She turned to Skulduggery and he kneeled with his hands together and she was in the air, flailing and then was grabbed by Wolf, sans Panda, and hauled her the rest of the way over. Wolf almost stumbled but Snake was there to steady him as Crow landed to their right.

A van was on the road with the door open and a man in white carried Panda into it. Stephanie looked to Crow but he put a hand on the back of her neck and pushed her gently towards it and the doors were closed behind them just as she heard the shouting of their pursuers.

They drove faster than Stephanie had ever experienced, and she couldn't help but grin and high-five Snake and Wolf.

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ivisite · 5 years ago

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Dabble game!! All aboard the angst train for 8! SOUND THE BAGPIPES!!!

The Angst! Bagpipes have been sounded, for sure.

#8. “She’s missing, not dead.”

The northern mountains were terrible to trek on a good day but with the last bit of cold nipping at the warmth of spring, the mountain terrain proved to be nearly impossible to navigate. Windhelm stood tall in the background, nestled atop a cliff and braced against the harsh winds that plagued the land. Sharp enough to cut through the thickest of fur, the small duo of thieves found themselves chilled to the bone by the winds the whipped about. Pushing forward, they continued their journey, cutting past what looked like an small, snow-laden alter that had been long since forgotten. The land that stretched out before them was cold and snow covered, a far cry from the brilliant reds and oranges that dotted the Rift just south of the territory.

"Brynjolf, this is ridiculous." The older male said, his accent somehow thicker as though the very chill in the air began to freeze it. He was disgruntled to say the least but his partner remained silent- stubbornly so.

Waiting for a response, though he knew better than to expect one at this point, Delvin sighed and grumbled a few colorful words under his breath. As well-spoken as Brynjolf was, he'd had very little patience for reasoning or talking as the past few weeks transpired. With little more than a cheeky smile and a witty remark as she set out to meet Mercer at Snow Veil Sanctum, Saoirse all but vanished into thin air in the weeks to come. Mercer, too, made himself sparce upon returning, making little to no effort to explain what happened on the mission before leaving on a "personal inquiry".

With no word from Saoirse and Mercer no where to be found, assumptions and wild guesses made their way into the midst of the Flagon's nightly chatterings amongst it's rogue-ish patrons. Wild guesses galore, Delvin thought his favorite to be that Saoirse relapsed and stole some grand treasure from the Sanctum, running off and promising to pay off the tab later as she'd done in the past. However, light-hearted jokes aside, one of the rogues that sauntered about the headquarters was anything but amused by it all. A few days passed and things were a bit uneasy, but as a week turned into three weeks, Brynjolf was practically a dam on it's last levee holds. Tense and quieter in demeanor than anyone had ever seen him before, it was clear that he was taking it harder than the rest of the guild.

"C'mon then, Saoirse isn't your run-of-the-mill bar wench. She's...just missing, not dead'er anythin' like that, surely. No need to be out here lookin' for her. " Delvin grunted through chattering teeth.

"We're out here freezing our asses off and Vex is probably getting all the spoils back at the Guild-" He continued, half hoping to lighten the mood and half relaying a very real concern. His banter was cut short, however, by a sharp side-eye from the red-head trekking in front of him. Though brief, the look was sharper than the winds that cut through the leather of the guild armor the two wore and perhaps colder than ice that crunched under their feet.

A heavy silence fell over the two afterwards, the remainder of the journey plagued by a darkening cloud of unspoken tension as they got closer and closer to the Sanctum. It was just in line of sight now and Delvin almost couldn't keep up with Brynjolf's hastened footsteps. The older man thought highly of his counterpart, having watched Brynjolf grow and rise up through the ranks of the guild since the days when the red head's peach fuzz was just starting to grow in. Delvin knew the younger man well and how deeply his favor for his treasured partner-in-crime Saoirse went despite his faux nonchalance on the matter. Her running off the first time only deepened Brynjolf's disdain of opening up to others emotionally and Delvin couldn't even begin to fathom what was going on in his head currently. Try as Delvin may, he couldn't begin to come up with the words to say to try and comfort the younger male.

"Here we are." Brynjolf finally said, voice hoarse from the harsh quietness he'd keep about himself during the journey thus far.

The Sanctum was built like any other of it's kind and nearby the first sign of trouble splayed itself out near a tree and an abandoned campsite. What looked like the remains of a horse after the wilderness had it's taking of it sat near a wind-whipped campfire. It wasn't the most damning of evidence but the sight started the investigation off with an odd sort feeling. Something was off about the air around the Sanctum, but it was hard to put a finger on it.

"We're not going in there are we? I'll sit my old arse right here and let you prance about in those Draugr invested halls to your heart's content if that's the case." Delvin grunted once again, kicking around old, dry-rotted wood from the fire-pit. Glancing over his shoulder after Brynjolf declined to answer, Delvin found himself faced with his least favorite thing- morality.

Standing at the edge of the Nordic tomb looking down past the stairs to the iron door stood Brynjolf with his brows knitted together sullenly with a matching frown making its way across his mouth. He wasn't angry looking for once but instead seemed to be breaking a bit under his own nerves, the levees of his inner dam starting to give way to the pressure. He looked downright miserable standing there, wistfully staring downwards into the hollowed out pit. Noticing Delvin's stares, Brynjolf met the older man's gaze. He was dejected and stressed out and every bit of it must have been swirling around in his eyes because after a few moments silence, Delvin cracked, taking pity on the younger man in spite of himself.

"Now Bryn, I've always hated it when you gave me that look- like a damn stray hound pouting outside yer window for scraps until you give in!" Delvin practically hollered, stomping over and down the wooden steps of the crypt. He tapped an impatient foot outside the door and waited for Brynjolf to make his way down, too.

Grumbling all the while, Delvin did a check of himself and his weapon before turning back to face the other thief. A hesitant hand wavered on the doors before them, not daring enough to push them open. The others might have joked about it, keeping a certain light-hearted tone in their guesses on the matter but Brynjolf jumped to the worst conclusions right off the bat. A trek through this dungeon could very well lead to him crumbling down next to Saoirse's cold, death locked corpse. The nights prior to them making it this far were plagued with night terrors of the very sort, visions of Saoirse's death or her remains twisted by the same magic that cursed the Draugr plaguing his sleep.

"I just got her back, Delvin..." The youngest male whispered after a time. His tone was low and his voice barely made it over the sound of the wind above them. His concern for what could have been lying in wait behind the door spread across his face like a wild-fire, softening every edge and engulfing it with a child-like fearfulness.

For the first time in what must have been years, Delvin witnessed the Guild's Second-in-Command act vulnerable. It was hard to see him in such a worried state, his usual cheeky but collected demeanor a stark contrast in comparison. Had it been anyone else, Delvin might have just spat and told them to grow a pair but Brynjolf was an exception. He was a good kid and always had been despite being a bit mischievous in his youth. Delvin carried that notion with him while he sighed, placing a rough but comforting hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Aye and knowing her she'll be waiting for us back at the Flagon by the time we make it out of this crypt."

lol what are drabbles anyways? I got carried away-

#oc ask #saoirse : oc #thieves guild #skyrim oc #brynjolf #delvin #drabble

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redeyedryu · 5 years ago

Text

Cross Dimensional Problems

Chapter 1 - WTF | [Ao3] | x | » |

I have no impulse control so here, have another skeleton harem fic, this time featuring a Reader character from “Reality”!

This is probably borderline crack fic, idk, but it’s not meant to be taken seriously, with fourth wall breaking likely. Honestly just a fun, silly thing to mess around with.

Summary: Either you're dreaming, hallucinating, or dead because you don't know how else to explain your current predicament. Seriously, how else do you explain suddenly appearing in an unfamiliar (not to mention absolutely filthy ) basement full of more tech bits than a computer repair shop?

Oh, and also the skeleton. You know, the one from that one game? The one that got into Smash but only kind of? But maybe you should rephrase that to skeletons because it looks like the many iterations of him and his brother are here, too.

Life just has a way with tossing the most unhelpful, unreal, and troubling of scenarios at you, doesn't it?

Like, for example, a stray rock on the highway flung at an excessively high speed at your windshield, splintering the glass into a spiderweb of cracks. A beloved pet that’s suddenly struck down with a debilitating sickness. Or perhaps a portion of your ceiling collapsing after a storm due to a previously unknown bald spot in the roof’s shingles. Maybe something happens that lands you in the ER.

Vexing situations, all varying in intensity and severity, that force you to face responsibility, to act the part of a semi-competent adult while you are left cursing life and all its unexpected curve-balls. But as the saying goes, that's life, right? Just let it go, roll with the punches and just keep truckin’ on.

And sure, that's fine. You can pretend, can put on a façade of competence and make yourself seem like the adultiest of adults.

And yet…

What about those devious and dastardly pitches that life sometimes decides to throw? When things are dialed to a hundred and you're left questioning where you stand on the bridge between reality and unreality. Between sanity and insanity.

You have to wonder… what are you supposed to do? When there’s no precedence, no wiki-how on how to navigate the obscure, unrealistic unknown.

Just how are you supposed to react in this kind of situation? A hint would be greatly appreciated. A walkthrough would be even better.

It begins like this:

You find yourself in a completely different environment to where you had been not one second ago. Between one moment of chilling in the comfort of your own home (in your computer chair; a comfy lounge; your bed; the apartment’s balcony; amongst the wilting grass of the backyard) and the next, you're suddenly tumbling, body displaced and shifted into a completely different space.

There is no stretching or twisting nor bending of light, no pitch black abyss, no split-second peeks into an in-between world. Simply here one moment and there the next.

You stumble and trip over yourself. Your arms flail and your body twists and you try to right yourself, overcompensating and undercompensating all at once. Your struggling ultimately ends in vain as you wind up a heap on the floor. You think you might have yelped, or screamed, or released any number of verbal expletives in your shock. You don't know. Regardless, it doesn't take long for you to realize something’s different, something’s wrong and that this isn't your floor . There are dust bunnies all over the place, shriveled up corpses of long dead insects tucked away in the crevices between unfamiliar desks and cardboard boxes full of mystery wires and computer components. There’s a crumpled up bag of popato chisps off to the side, with an equally crumpled brown paper bag with an obscured logo not too far from that.

The first thing that crosses your mind is: Gross. The second: What the fuck. And the third: What the fuck. And in no particular numerical order does the thought cross your mind that something about that garbage seems oddly familiar.

Not one to take things lying down (and honestly, this floor is just down-right nasty, you really don't want to keep smooshing your face against it) you push yourself up from the disgusting concrete floor into a seated position, legs folded beneath you, palm rubbing away at the filth on your face, and take in your surroundings.

A basement.

A bit cliché, you can't help but note, but hey, could be worse, right? So far you're not seeing any torture devices, no bondage sex dungeon paraphernalia, and no blood stains or bodies (the dead bugs don’t count). There are, however, heaps upon heaps of cardboard boxes full of electrical components, gutted electronics, and various power tools spread across a workspace that seemingly encompasses the entirety of the basement. There are several desks and tables pushed up against walls, their tops full of this and that. Just lots and lots of junk.

Basically the place is a hot mess.

Very relatable.

You shift to get up and you absolutely do not spook yourself when your back brushes against something solid. That shrill yelp? That wasn't you, nope, not at all. You merely whipped around because you had yet to check the space behind you. And honestly, it wasn't anything special, just a lame boiler looking thing with a sparking, exposed electrical panel. Probably shouldn't touch that.

It's just as you're bent over, hands on your knees and readying to push into a stand, when the strangest thing happens.

Your skin tingles, hair standing on end, and you're briefly reminded of how the air feels during a storm: charged, powerful, dangerous . And then suddenly you're no longer alone in the nasty mess of a basement with the precariously sparking boiler-thing and strangely familiar garbage.

You squint your eyes, mouth dropping open as you mouth a silent, “what????” And yes, all four of those question marks are completely necessary to convey your complete and utter confusion. Other than that, though, you merely gawk.

You're not sure how you're supposed to react to what you're seeing. No, really. How are you supposed to react to this? Stare like an idiot, apparently, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Maybe catch a few flies with your gaping gob.

And then it just stumbles out, your apparent tagline of, “What the fuck?” Because seriously. What the fuck?!

It's not even Halloween and yet you're surrounded by skeletons. Very familiar skeletons. Very familiar fictional skeletons.

As the gears slowly, slowly churn about in your brain, something else clicks and you blurt a breathy, scandalized, “Popato chisps!” There’s a bit of a hysterical lilt to your voice but that's not important right now because popato chisps !

The skeletons gathered before you all twitch at the sudden exclamation and more than a few look entirely confused as you go on to say, “They're fuckin’. Popato chisps. ” As if that explains anything. And maybe for them it doesn't but for you? For you it explains everything. And that being that life really, really, really needs to stop throwing you curve-balls.

#Red Drabbles #Undertale Fanfiction #Reader Insert #Cross Dimensional Problems #Reverse Harem #Hello yes #I am here for silly self-indulgent shenanigans

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ghostofviperwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Poolside

Pairing: Evil/FC

Category: Smut

Word Count: 1788

Warnings: Public sexual acts, language

Bit of a continuation of Moving On

Evil’s dark eyes traced over the crowd looking for some entertainment at this otherwise dull affair. Why anyone thought inviting Evil to a pool party of all places was a good idea still escaped him. Furthermore, why his so-called brothers felt it necessary to drag him to one vexed him. Catching the eye of Sanada, stretched out on a lounge chair with three bikini clad women fawning over him, Evil sneered; grunting in frustration when Sanada simply grinned and tipped his beer bottle in Evil’s direction. Moving on Evil continued his perusal of the available offerings. If he had his vehicle he would have been long gone. Of course Naito had foreseen that he would try to escape and had driven him personally to the party.

“Should’ve just punched the fucker in the face,” Evil grumbled taking a swig of his beer.

“Now now Evil, you don’t want to punch Naito. We’re just trying to get you to have some fun.” Bushi appeared at his side with a wide grin, sitting down on the empty chair next to Evil in the shadows.

“You’re not off the hook either asshole.” Evil gave Bushi the side-eye with a hitch in his lips. “Want me to have fun? Take me to a club. Bring a toy to play with in my dungeon. Get me drunk. Don’t bring me to a goddamn pool party.”

“Whatever,” Bushi said pushing to his feet. “Sulk here in the corner like a baby.” Ignoring the middle finger Evil directed his way, Bushi headed over to the bar where some of the Suzuki Guns were hanging out, greeting Desperado with a handshake hug combo and nodding at the rest.

“I’m not sulking.” Evil sulked shifting in his chair. “Not my fault there’s no one interesting here.” Once again he settled into watching those around him looking for someone to play with. A chorus of greetings caught his attention and Evil shifted a smile full of bad intentions coming to his lips as he saw Rei standing by the patio door. Now she would be fun to play with. He knew if she had any inkling he was here, she never would have shown her face. That opinion was reinforced when her eyes landed on Naito and her gaze darted frantically around the pool area. It was only when she was certain that Evil wasn’t present that the tense set of her shoulders relaxed.

Leaning back in his chair Evil remembered all the fun he had with her. She was so easy to manipulate it had lost its allure rather quickly, but the things he had made her do before he lost interest made him hard. After he had left her behind she had fallen in with Jay White. As far as he knew she was still seeing him. She thought she was free of his control; little did she know that Evil was just biding his time before luring her back in. No better time than the present he thought finishing off his beer. A last little hurrah to utterly destroy her for thinking she could move on from him. Right in front of all her friends and co-workers.

So he watched and waited for her to pull her head out of the clouds and figure out that he was here. The exact moment she saw him brought a sick grin to his face as he watched her freeze on the other side of the pool. With nothing more than a crook of his finger he beckoned her, leaning back into his chair as he watched her obey with barely any hesitation.

“I didn’t know you were here.” Rei said shifting from foot to foot under Evil’s penetrating gaze. “Didn’t really think this was your type of thing.”

“You’re hurting my feelings Rei,” Evil said placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “Are you saying if you knew I would be here you wouldn’t have come? That’s rather rude.”

Rei sputtered, looking around nervously as she tried to come up with a response that would satiate him.

“Where’s Jay?” Evil asked tiring of waiting for an answer. “I’m surprised he let you out of his sight. He keeps a rather close watch on you doesn’t he?”

“Keep his name out of your mouth.” Rei snapped glaring at Evil. “He treats me like I’m his world. More than you ever did. The only reason he watches over me is because of you.”

“Yet here you are standing in front of me, just waiting for my command.” Evil said. “Does Jay not give you what you need? Does he not treat you like the slut you are?”

“I’m not a slut.” She said fiercely. “I didn’t want you to treat me like you did. All I wanted was for you to love me.”

Evil chuckled darkly making Rei flush as he stared at her like he could see into her soul.

“Oh?” Evil asked sarcastically. “Was it love you were looking for while you sucked off Sanada and Hiromu in our locker room? Strange way of showing it.”

“You’re impossible.” Rei said fiercely. “I don’t know why I bothered to come over here.” Yet she didn’t turn away, anxiously twisting her hands in front of her while Evil watched her knowingly.

“Both you and I know why you came over here.” Evil said after letting her fidget for several moments. “I give you what you crave. What Jay never will. He cares too much to do the things you need. You don’t hate me because of the things I did. You hate me because I stopped doing them.”

Rei flinched against the truth in his words, pushing them to the back of her so as to not dwell on them. He was intoxicating and she hated that he was drawing her in just as easily as he always had. She tried to think about her boyfriend Jay, how much he had helped her the past several months. How kindly he treated her and how much he cared. How much would it hurt him to know at the first opportunity she had jumped at Evil’s command with nary a second thought?

“Come sit on my lap,” Evil suddenly commanded breaking her from her introspection. Again she obeyed without really thinking, stepping into the shadows and lowering herself on his lap. Rei gasped loudly as Evil grabbed her hips and settled her so she was straddling his thigh balancing precariously on the edge of the chair, the wicker digging into her knees making her wince. Her cut off jean shorts rode up her legs exposing the bottom of Rei’s butt cheeks. “Take off your top.” Evil said.

“What?” Rei exclaimed. “No Evil, I can’t do that here. People could see.”

Her protestations fell on deaf ears as Evil simply smiled.

“That’s exactly the point Rei. Now take off your bikini top or I’m not going to play with you.” Evil said his tone brooking no further arguments.

Rei cast a nervous glance over her shoulders feeling a wave of relief as it seemed nobody was paying attention to them in their little enclave. Reaching behind her back she untied the strings of her top letting it fall in-between their bodies exposing her breasts to Evil’s eyes.

His hands left her hips, sliding up the curve of her waist to cup her breasts keeping his eyes locked on hers as he squeezed the globes tight bringing a sheen of tears to her eyes and a moan from her lips. Evil brushed his thumbs over her nipples until they were stiff little peaks then pinched them with two fingers, steadily increasing the pressure until he pulled a squeal of pain from Rei. Evil’s tongue darted out, licking over his lips as he squeezed and pulled at Rei’s tits watching as lust bloomed in her eyes. Pulling on her nipples Evil dragged her to kneel bringing her tits level with his mouth as Rei put her hands on his shoulders for balance. Lowering his head Evil flicked his tongue over one nipple, swirling in slow torturous circles before biting the peak hard and making Rei moan loudly arching her back towards his mouth as she sought more from him. Evil lips pressed against her heated flesh, kissing and nibbling his way across her chest to the other breast, flicking his tongue over the hardened nub and sucking it into his mouth. Rei’s hands moved to Evil’s hair, pulling it free from the confining rubber band and tangling the silky length in her fingers urging on Evil’s movements. When Evil’s mouth broke from her nipple she mewled in disappointment, uselessly tugging at his hair in protest.

“Fuck my thigh.” He growled against her chest, biting deep into skin in the valley between her breasts smiling as she whimpered and lowered herself to perch on his leg. Releasing his hair, Rei again put her hands on his thick shoulders, nails digging in as she rocked her hips along his thigh, the coarse material of her cut offs rubbing hard against her folds as she moved.

Evil leaned back watching Rei grinding on his leg, eyelids fluttering with pleasure with every movement against him. He smirked as he caught glances being cast towards their corner, watching Rei get herself off. A sharp slap from Evil’s hand on her breast had Rei’s eyes flying open in surprise, her teeth biting her full bottom lip as she tried to silence her cries.

“Faster.” He told her, issuing another sharp smack to the opposite breast. Moaning Rei picked up the speed of her movements, hips rocking as she ground herself on Evil’s thick thigh, breath starting to come in spurts every time her clit found purchase on his muscular leg. Evil continued to litter slaps to her breasts as she chased her completion, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clawed at him as she neared.

“Cum for me.” Evil said, his deep commanding voice just what Rei needed to let go, crying out loudly as Evil twisted her nipples, her clit grinding onto his thigh as she rode out her climax. As she was coming down and realization of what she had done crashed over her Rei scrambled off his lap hurrying to put her top back on. Humiliation burned through her as she turned away from Evil and found herself the center of attention of just about everyone at the party. Tears starting to fill her eyes Rei ran from the pool area avoiding accusing looks from Jay’s friends as she burst into the house.

“Party still sucks.” Evil pronounced directing a glare at Naito. “Are we almost done here?”

#evil fanfic #evil imagine #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywriting #ghostofviperwrites

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