#do will and miles even have a ship name i have no idea but anyway

[weirdmageddon]

yesterday i wrote a scene where jade wasnt a plot device and was left the hell alone in A6A5 because this being dave and jade’s last proper conversation in years made me sad and i wanted to see them reunite properly. i mixed a bit of narration in too even though it was rare around this point in the comic but its just to paint a better picture. also i wouldnt mind feedback on character voice (it’s important to me that the dialogue sounds believable)

[3 years are over, everyone is in the new session. The prospit ship is on LOMAX, as is everyone who arrived on the meteor, safely warped by Jade onto LOMAX as well. Jade has banished B2 Jack to the Furthest Ring already. She hasn't seen her friends in 3 years, not to mention she never met the trolls in person yet.]

[Jade teleports to LOMAX where John was talking with the meteor crew. Her eyes widen when she sees the trolls, giving everyone a greeting. Jade waves to the trolls.]

You’ll have time to catch up with them later. First you want to reconvene with Rose and Dave.

> ==>

Dave... Oh my god! DAVE!!! That’s right! The last time you saw him, he died in your arms after Jack redirected the bullets from your gun into his body!

JADE: dave!!!! DAVE: hey DAVE: this has been three years coming hasnt it DAVE: cmere

> ==>

[Dave hugs Jade with a slight grin on face. He notices her… sniffing him?? but doesn’t even bother to question it.]

JADE: it is so nice to hold your body when its not a corpse :) DAVE: ok DAVE: weird thing to say DAVE: actually who am i kidding who gives a shit DAVE: i almost forgot how much i missed the enigmatic riddlefuckery that is your phrasing DAVE: fortunately i have context for this so i know what youre saying DAVE: humor me for a sec and imagine that i didnt DAVE: but first DAVE: are those dog ears JADE: yes! i am part dog now JADE: because i prototyped my dreamself with becsprite JADE: jadesprite became part of me! and so did her doggy traits from bec DAVE: got it DAVE: oh yeah john mentioned that on the back of his dumb poster inside that bucket that appeared out of thin air DAVE: right before we had to haul ass out of there before jack caught up to us DAVE: karkat had a complete fucking meltdown over that btw i wish you couldve seen it DAVE: damn it feels like so long ago now JADE: heheheh i remember JADE: john realized it at the last second but it was too late! DAVE: of course it was johns idea only he could do something that gooberish DAVE: you know what this means though JADE: yup!! woof woof DAVE: it means youve done it harley DAVE: youve finally done it god damn it DAVE: the evolution of humankind is finally upon us DAVE: the scientists said it would never happen in our lifetime DAVE: but look what we have here DAVE: before me stands mans first legitimate furry subspecies DAVE: homo canis DAVE: as the name implies theyre gay as fuck btw DAVE: its too bad all those scientists are dead and cant witness this phylogenetic breakthrough DAVE: rip to the science community yall wouldve lost your collective shit DAVE: hey jade lets pour one out for the science community for being real ones

> ==>

You are still nestled into Dave’s shoulder. He’s taken a sort of protective position over you. Your perceptive barkbeast ears can hear his formerly bullet-riddled heart beating a mile a minute with the regularity of quartz beneath his time-branded pajamas, all the while he continues to ramble to you about certifiably dumb shit. You can tell Dave is psyched to see you again, even if he expresses it in his OWN bizarre way, which means extended metaphors and topical tangents. What a hypocrite, calling YOUR phrasing perplexing! You sure missed this guy.

You realize you started tuning him out while thinking about all this.

DAVE: jade JADE: umm homo is the species name JADE: so wouldnt that mean were all gay? :p DAVE: yeah that sounds about right DAVE: anyway enough of this bullshit

> ==>

[Dave motions to retract his arms since he doesn’t want it to get too weird, but Jade squeezes tighter. Dave immediately yields to the movement]

DAVE: jesus wow ok DAVE: really happy to see you too DAVE: like if you had a tail it would be wagging so forcefully youd be knocking over all the fucking furnishings in the room DAVE: just slapping it so hard on the owners thigh that it feels like theyre being flogged DAVE: talk about getting bitch slapped JADE: :D DAVE: so howve you been JADE: really really excited to see you guys all again!!! JADE: and to meet the trolls! DAVE: yeah theyre pretty weird DAVE: and im still not used to it DAVE: but it gets more manageable the longer youre around them DAVE: by the way JADE: ?

> ==>

DAVE: sorry you had to go through that JADE: through what? DAVE: seeing me die and stuff again DAVE: except that time right in front of you JADE: .... DAVE: when we were gathering up all those frogs i knew jack was going to appear DAVE: i was waiting and waiting to play it out DAVE: mentally rehearsing my fucking torso getting turned into swiss cheese and knowing you would have to watch on top of it DAVE: i had to make sure it happened to protect the integrity of the alpha timeline DAVE: but if you knew this was going to happen you wouldve tried to prevent it and created a doomed one DAVE: and so i didnt say anything DAVE: i couldnt DAVE: so DAVE: sorry for putting you through that JADE: oh..... JADE: dave D: JADE: well im here JADE: if you ever want to talk about it DAVE: its cool DAVE: you just deserve to know what happened there DAVE: but thanks DAVE: so am i JADE: yeah i know JADE: i guess i should be glad you did that then... JADE: even though i was freaking out when it happened ._. JADE: otherwise you wouldnt be here will us now dressed in your red god tier time pajamas DAVE: yeah these magical rags really are comfortable arent they DAVE: and they stay like perma clean JADE: they are! i would wear mine over and over for days on end JADE: id take a nice shower and put it right back on JADE: and you know how much i love cycling my outfits through my wardrobifier JADE: by the way dave your cape is sooo cool! :o DAVE: thanks DAVE: yeah i love it its hella soft DAVE: its like ive got a portable snuggle blanket with me in case i ever need to drop to the floor like a tired sack of shit and get my snooze on DAVE: ive got a permanent personal reservation at club bed featuring dj pillow and mc blanky JADE: heheheh JADE: can i touch your cape? DAVE: of course go nuts JADE: yaaaay!!

[olympeline]

Love love love the omega verse fruk content! But, what do we think about omega Arthur accidentally getting pregnant in the 16th century and voila, FACE fam is born… something something “nation people don’t get pregnant even if they’re presenting omega and going through heat” but then new land is discover and “oops” turns out there is a reason why nation people have reproductive cycles

Oh nonny, do not unleash these thoughts on me! I tell you they will take root 🥺

See? Now I’m posting about it. I hope you’re happy! 😩

If this happened, I’m guessing it would be because of a very specific sets of circumstances. Otherwise nation-people don’t reproduce like humans do. When a new land is discovered, a successful settler population is established, with the main bulk of the settlers coming from an omega nation, and a significant portion coming from their alpha partner. And it had to be part of the New World, maybe? Like the clue is in the name. Just something about the Old World that makes it so no new nation-people are born the human way there any more. They used to be but it happened so long ago, when the Old World was new, that now not even China remembers. It’s become like an old wives’ tale to the nation folk. Anyway, all these boxes have to be ticked otherwise the new colony/nation-person comes into being the “normal” way and just appears one day. I kinda like this idea actually. Like a/b/o nations can have kids but such rare situations have to arise that they almost never do? And reproductive knowledge is still a loooot of guesswork back then too, so.

Soooo Francis and Arthur don’t bother with even the primitive precautions they had at the time. Why would they? The NA twins are the first new nation-people born this way in thousands of years, so the Dover pair had no idea they needed to be careful. Just carried on with their usual fooling around every time Arthur’s heat came, including on the shores of the New World. Like, literally on the shore, maybe? Francis is already there with the French colonists when he senses Arthur is near. Goes miles down the coastline close to where the English settlers are. Headcanon here that nation-people can travel much faster than normal humans so this doesn’t take him months, lol. Finds an English ship anchored and their personification alone on the beach. In heat and giving off an aura of STAY AWAY NORMAL HUMANS I LOVE YOU BUT FOR NO SPECIFIC REASON ENGLAND NEEDS SOME ALONE TIME WITH HIS FUTURE MATE ANCIENT ENEMY WHO HE STILL TOTALLY HATES SO GO INTO THE SETTLEMENT AND LEAVE YOUR MOTHERLAND BE UNTIL HE CALLS YOU, OKAY?

Arthur is all curled up in the sand like an overheated, grumpy merman. Scolds Francis for making him wait, then pulls him down and won’t even let Francis move them off the beach until they’ve done it a few times. Something about this heat has made it almost as bad as the first one and it started coming on halfway across the Atlantic. No amount of whining from Francis about sand in his hair or his new clothes getting ruined is going to make Arthur wait a moment longer for that knot. Even after Francis puts his foot down when the tide starts coming in and drags Arthur inland, they still keep at it. Marathon session that goes on and on until they’re both sore, sticky, and totally exhausted.

Francis: Needy this time weren’t we, mon lapin?

Arthur: Mmmm…*Sated omega sounds followed by three day sleep*

Francis stays by Arthur’s side and brings him food when he wakes up. He can’t explain why. He just…really wants to. Struts and sashays right into the English settlement, commandeers a kitchen and supplies, and just dares them to object, lmao. No one is that dumb! So Arthur gets a French feast when he wakes up. Then Francis keeps hanging around and staying close. Eventually a secretly pleased but outwardly embarrassed tsundere Arthur has to shoo him away back to his own lands. The food and aftercare are nice but people might start to talk and suspect, you know? They’re still supposed to be enemies.

Afterwards life carries on and things go back to normal. They get distracted by the day-to-day routine of being nations. So much so that Francis fails to notice when Arthur doesn’t call on him for help with his heats. It’s only when Arthur misses a third time that he starts to wonder. But then, Arthur was a late bloomer and their cycles are always a little wacky. Not so weird to skip a heat or two then have several close together. Francis isn’t too worried and neither is Arthur. Then he starts getting other weird symptoms. Often at hilariously inopportune times:

Arthur: *Mid Anglo-Spanish naval battle* Die, Catholic dog! You…

Antonio:….Yes?

Arthur:…One moment, please. *Dashes to the side of the ship to throw up*

Antonio:…Comida inglesa, ni siquiera una vez.

We’ve basically entered a pregnancy focused romantic comedy at this stage, lol. Not that anyone realises for a long time, Francis and Arthur included. It should be obvious: Arthur throwing up, not getting his heats, the alphas around him (even his enemies) suddenly not wanting to hurt him as much and pulling their punches when they fight, Francis wanting to stick around and be by his side, etc. It shouldn’t take a genius to work out what’s happening. But remember, hardly anyone knows Arthur is an omega at this point. Plus this kind of nation-person pregnancy is something that had passed into antiquity and become a myth. So everyone’s density is justfied.

In the end, it’s Alasdair who works it out first. He’s an alpha and Arthur’s older brother so his own protective instincts had to be going crazy. Which, on top of all the other changes Arthur is going through, the biggest telltale is his scent. Arthur’s brothers know him best out of everyone and, as the group’s sole alpha, Alasdair’s nose picks up what should be impossible. He thinks he’s wrong for months but the evidence keeps piling up. One morning he comes in to find Arthur slumped over with his head in a bucket as has become a common occurrence lately. Then, while Arthur’s good and distracted, Alasdair sneaks up to scent him. Then rips up his shirt and sees that barely there, slightly rounded middle. There’s no denying it then. Arthur’s omega nature and his “arrangement” with Francis was an open secret in the British Isles family. Arthur’s hastily put together potions and spells could disguise his scent enough to fool other nation-people, but not them. They all suspected but none of them, not even Alasdair, ever said anything out of respect for Arthur’s feelings. They knew what a blow it must have been for him. In spite of everything, they still care for the idiot, you know? He’s still their little brother.

Alasdair accuses Arthur in his ordinary, ultra blunt, Scottish way. Arthur brushes him off as being crazy. Alasdair leaves and comes back with Dylan and one of his books on the ancient history of their kind. Dylan is convinced, Arthur isn’t. You know how he is: denial all the way, baby! Dylan says Arthur is sick because the child needs to spend time in the New World where it will be born. Needs to soak up the energy of the land and the like. Otherwise…bad things, for both of them. Arthur says “you’re all crazy stop being crazy go away, crazy acting brothers of mine” but Alasdair says “right, then!” and just grabs Arthur up. Then, with Dylan’s help, they bundle their furious, spitting sibling onto a ship headed for Virginia. Alasdair goes with him. Meanwhile Dylan heads across the channel to tell Francis (“DYLAN DON’T YOU DARE DYLAN I WILL KILL YOU I SWEAR IF YOU SAY ONE WORD TO THE FROG-” - Arthur, probably). Francis is stunned by the news. Stunned and…cautiously ecstatic? I know he really wishes he could have a family in canon. Oh man, he would so want to believe this is real. But also be so afraid to get his hopes up because it sounds impossible. The drama! We love it. 🥺 Francis jumps on the fastest ship they have and sails to the English settlement to be reunited with Arthur. After a hilariously awkward conversation between the Auld Alliance duo (“…so, seems ye knocked up my little brother” “…oui, seems I did” “…aye, carry on, then” “merci”) Francis is allowed into the bedroom to see Arthur. Who’s still a Scottish prisoner, still in denial, and sulking like mad in a nest he made. Don’t ask him why he keeps wanting to make nests these days even though he hasn’t had a heat in ages. Well, you can ask but the only answer you will get is shut up and go away, dickhead. Arthur Bloody Kirkland is the face of the United Bloody Kingdom and he can make bloody nests if he bloody wants to! *Hissy tsundere noises*

Arthur tries to bluster at Francis to go away or better yet help him throttle Alasdair who’s obviously gone mental, but Francis doesn’t give him the chance. Just pounces and kisses Arthur, cheats shamelessly by using wicked lips and fingers on the omega spot on Arthur’s neck, making him go all loose and purry. Then Francis presses both their hands to Arthur’s stomach and they feel something move.

One of the NA twins - probably Alfred, I mean let’s be honest - waking up to say hello.

Even Arthur can’t deny it after that. Shocked and furious, he tries to rant at Francis (“WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO ME YOU FUCKING FROG! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! I’LL FUCKING SKIN YOU FOR THIS-!” - Arthur, definitely) but Francis is crying too hard to notice. Then he’s laughing and sobbing at the same time: hugging Arthur, professing his love, and kissing his lips off. Arthur’s shock and fear based rage stands no chance in the face of Francis’s thousand years plus heartfelt yearning for a family. He gives in and lets Francis have his moment of ecstasy. The kissing soon evolves into something else and Francis almost loses control and gives Arthur a mating bite, but pulls back at the last second. They’re not ready for that. Arthur noticed. Arthur didn’t say he did. Arthur is secretly grateful and feels his heart flutter even so.

Things go pretty smoothly after the big revelation, all things considered. High emotions settle and they start planning. Arthur stays in the New World and so does Francis. They have their people build a small cabin on the border between their territories so Arthur can have some peace away from curious human eyes. Alasdair goes back to Britain and takes over as leader of the UK for the time being. Dylan scrapes together every bit of knowledge about nation-person pregnancy he can (not much and not all of it useful) and brings it to the FrUK couple along with the usual books on human birth. They all decide to keep it secret from the rest of their kind. Otherwise everyone would want to come and see this miraculous anomaly. Arthur is stressed enough as it is even if he is starting to come round to the idea. No one wants him and the baby to become objects of curiosity. Then the time comes and Francis is with Arthur for it. Getting screamed at, getting his fingers crushed, taking promises that Arthur will FUCKING MURDER HIM FOR THIS-AAAAARRGGHHH!!! without complaint. It goes just like an ordinary human birth. The only surprise is two babies pop out instead of the one they expected. Arthur names the oldest Alfred, after his great king. Francis, when he finally stops sobbing, names the other Matthew. They know by instinct that their true names are America and Canada. When Francis nuzzles Arthur’s neck and kisses that special place with a soft whisper of “mon amour” Arthur knows he’s asking permission. He says “yes” and Francis bites him, leaving his mark as their new sons sleep between them.

Afterwards Arthur moans and complains that the bite was a stupid idea and now he has to wear a damn neckerchief or cravat even in the fucking tropics, but he doesn’t really mind. It’s him who orders a pair of gold rings for them to wear, hidden by gloves or else worn on chains under their shirts. ❤️ Yeah, they become mates much sooner in this version of events, heh. It’s still a secret though, even to their kids before their old enough not to accidentally reveal it to anyone else. Alfred belongs to America, so he lives in the English colonies. Matthew is of Canada, so Francis raises him until the British win the French Canadian territory and Matthew moves in with Arthur instead. They’re still national personifications and have to obey the politics of the day. So they can’t live together as a family as if they were human. Sad, but we know it turns out all right in the end. Peace comes eventually and they can be a family then. And that’s where I’ll leave this AU, I think. This post is already pretty long.

Hope you enjoyed reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[midnightmah07]

In relation to the post you just reposted:

💛 Daisy + Ruggie and/or ❤️ Leona + Isabelle

I’m such a sucker for these to ships if I hadn’t made that evident yet😭😭🩷🩷🩷

GAHH IM HAPPY YOU LIKE THEM 😭😭😭 I have a very clear bias towards these two ships as well mainly bc like. Ruggie is my favorite character and Leona is my second favorite (but I love him almost as much as I love Ruggie- ALMOST)... ANYWAYS🥲

💛 reunion kiss / relief (this is an au where Daisy goes back to her world, but canonically she stays in twisted wonderland)

It has been a few months ever since Daisy has been back from Twisted Wonderland. She was fully back to her life as a servant, and back to sleeping in the attic. It could be worst, she thought, at least she had a place to stay – the attic was very big, her sisters didn't bother her there either – and she saw her mice friends again... But...

She couldn't help but miss NRC.

She missed Grim and his constant talk of being a great mage, she missed Ace and Deuce fighting over the most trivial things, she missed Trein giving her special lessions, Kalim inviting her to parties, Leona ruffling her hair...

She missed Ruggie.

The universe was so cruel to her, it even deprived her of her dreams with her boyfriend– well... Ex-boyfriend, she supposed. Before NRC she always had dreams about a guy, and she realized after a while that it was Ruggie, but now... Now that she needed those dreams to comfort her the most...

She couldn't have them. No matter how hard she tried.

She tried getting herself preoccupied, doing more than necessary, to the point her stepmother commented on her doing way too much. But she needed to do something to take her mind off of him.

So she went to buy groceries this afternoon, hoping that a change of scenery would take her back to reality. Unfortunately for her, she couldn't help but smile upon seeing donuts, thinking to gift them to Ruggie only to remember she couldn't see him; she stumbled across a store selling TVs, and on one of them there was a documentary about hyenas; she felt the groceries a bit too heavy for her, only to remember Ruggie wasn't there to help her carry them.

She stopped walking in the middle of the street, her eyes seemingly unfocused as memories of him flooded her brain.

His smile, his laugh, his fluffy hair, his gentle way of touching her, his way of teasing her... She wanted all of it. She wanted all of it back.

She wanted him back.

"Daisy."

The blonde blinked, her head looking straight ahead, staring at the person who called her fake name, the name no one in this world knew of.

Daisy met grayish blue eyes, a beanie on the familiar locks of dirty blonde hair, and a face filled with freckles, that changed into a smile the moment her eyes met his.

"Ruggie?" She mumbled, almost to herself, not believing what she was seeing. Running to his arms, she let him hug her tightly, not carrying about the groceries falling on the ground. He was here! She had no idea how, but he was! "How–"

Before she could finish asking, he gave her a gentle kiss, her heart beating a mile per second as her eyes began to sting.

She thought she'd never kiss him again.

"I'll explain later, I promise." He said, going back again for another kiss, missing her way too much to speak.

❤️ first kiss / realization

"Wake up." Isabelle's eyes opened slowly at the call, rubbing her eyes as she felt her back and neck sore from the position she fell asleep in. "And you call me lazy."

"I'm not being lazy..." She contained a yawn, making Leona laugh. "I couldn't sleep well last night, give me a break."

The beastman shifted his attention to the wall across from them, changing the position of his legs as he cleared his throat. "You ok?"

Isabelle lifted an eyebrow at that, but felt an odd satisfaction by the question. She pushed it aside though, she had no reason to be happy about him asking if she was ok, he was simply being decent.

"Yeah, just a bit tired."

"Why couldn't you sleep? Had a nightmare or something?" He asked in a teasing manner, and Isabelle rolled her eyes at that.

"No. I'm not a child."

"Never said you were." He continued, the smirk still prevalent on his face, making Isabelle look at him and scowl in annoyance. "Though I guess you could be mistaken by one if looking from afar... You do have the height of one."

Isabelle clicked her tongue, crossing her arms and looking elsewhere. She wasn't in the mood for their usual bickering, not after what happened last night before she fell asleep.

When she realized she had harbored feelings for him.

Even now, it was hard to act normal around Leona. She felt her heard beating faster, she was anxious, and couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness around him. She couldn't even deny it any longer, and that, she supposed, was what irritated her. That she was actually in love with him, of all people.

Leona realized she didn't answer, using his hand to poke her cheek, getting her attention. "You seem strange. You sure you're ok?" He asked, tilting his head, genuine worry in his voice even when he tried to mask it. "I could call a doctor."

"No, I'm– I'm alright, just a bit tired, like I said." Isabelle explained, moving her head to his direction in order to look him in the eyes and explain the situation.

She didn't realize just how close he was to her though.

His face was merely centimeters close to hers, she could feel his breath on her face. Suddenly she froze, not sure of what to do in that moment as she kept opening her mouth to try and say something, but she quickly closed it in fear of stuttering and giving out just how nervous she was by something so stupid as their proximity.

Why was she freaking out anyway? It wasn't like anything would happen, he'd just– you know, distance himself and go back to being silent, letting her sleep again. Surely.

Then why was he getting closer?

Isabelle instinctively closed her eyes, her nose crinkling a bit and she heard Leona chuckle. His hand moved to her face, and before she knew it he was kissing her. Isabelle's body was stiff, she didn't even do anything, she just stood there in awe. It wasn't like she wasn't enjoying it, quite the opposite actually but– she didn't know what to do.

The kiss was simple, it wasn't deep, their mouths were close throughout the whole process, it felt more like a long peck than an actual kiss, but it drove her absolutely insane.

When they finally parted, he rested his forehead on hers, his eyes averting her gaze. He moved away, crossing his arms again and going back to the same position he was a few seconds ago. Isabelle blinked in confusion. That was it? She cleared her throat in embarrassment as her heart sinked a little by his lack of reaction.

"You can use my shoulder. To rest, I mean. Better than straining your neck." She noticed his leg going up and down as he looked at the ground. She smiled, maybe he was just as embarrassed as her.

"Thank you." With that, she rested her head on his shoulder, melting because of his touch, a happy sigh escaping her.

Fine, maybe being in love with him wasn't all that bad.

[teecupangel]

I come bearing Unity thoughts. How about Yew Branch style Desmond, but in Revolutionary France? And to just make things interesting... As one of the children of Marquis de Sade

Now, I am merely doing Sequence 5 so I have no idea if they show in the game. But! Consider Desmond low-key having fun at the expense of others. Even if it is only because he is bored, he knows who his father is (historically) and modern time sense of modesty does not measure up to those of his now-contemporary France

In short: Desmond finds Cafe de Theatre and has fun making Arno blush. By using modern style innuendo

Before we start, I will confess that I do plan to write a Yew Branch for August 26, Arno’s birthday, but it’s more or less set before Unity because… uuuhhh… plot reasons? XD

Anyway, I will say AC Unity has the easiest time to just kick Desmond anywhere we want because you can pick anyone from the Nomad Assassins in the companion app and bam, you have Desmond’s new identity.

Also, here’s Desmond being reborn as either Arno’s brother or Élise’s brother/twin and, while this is more focused on AC3, here’s Desmond being reborn as Marie Antoinette.

Okay, let’s set up Desmond’s life as Marquis de Sade’s son.

Now, we actually have two options for this (according to wiki):

Louis Marie de Sade (1767) would be a year older than Arno

Donatien Claude Armand de Sade (1769) would be a year younger than Arno

If you wanna go down the ‘Desmond gets a pussy’ route, there’s Madeleine Laure de Sade (1771) as well, but if we’re gonna give Arno some dick, then I like the idea of Madeleine being a secret fangirl who totally ships her brother (and maybe even her father) with that sexy hooded man.

(As far as I remember, they don’t show Marquis de Sade’s children in the game so we’re good to go)

Regardless of who we pick as Desmond’s new identity (an older man showing Arno the ‘ropes’ or a younger man who Arno believes to be the most dangerous of all… in a very different way), Arno’s in for a very… well… informative time of his life.

The de Sade Family:

Marquis de Sade doesn’t formally invites his children to his ‘new kingdom’ but he will welcome them nonetheless if they do join. He and his wife don’t really have a good relationship so he’s not that close to his children. Desmond would definitely be his favorite and, even if Desmond is reborn as his second son (if we’re going for the younger man route), he would still name Desmond as his heir and successor because, as far as he knows, Desmond is his ‘true child’.

Desmond doesn’t want any title or riches or whatever. He does, however, like Marquis de Sade. As a father? Far better than William Miles, hands down. But honestly? Desmond saw how the Marquis was lonely as not many people understood his ‘true self’. Desmond gets it though since he experimented a lot when he left the Farm and learned how sex could be quite enjoyable. Desmond actually knows more than Marquis de Sade and sorta-kinda acts as his proofreader.

In public, Desmond is considered to be polite and as noble as one gets, heavily leaning on Haytham Kenway’s remaining bleeds. In his father’s new kingdom though… total dom. Known to be the bored prince and there’s a lot of people that try to get his attention in any way they can. Desmond is usually just there to make sure his father doesn’t do anything actually illegal or every ‘depravity’ he does would be done with consent on all sides. He does disappear as soon as his father starts… really going because, yeah, he doesn’t have a kink for that one.

The brother we don’t choose will have an inferiority complex against Desmond and think that Desmond is a depraved sick bastard. But he will also remember how kind and understanding Desmond was to him when they were children. Hell, he was still kind to him even when it’s clear that he was trying to bully him (Desmond just thinks it’s cute he thinks he could bully Desmond). This conflicting feelings make him ignore everything that Desmond does in their father’s kingdom while trying to protect both him and their father as much as he could. He would insist he’s protecting the family name though. (His kink is definitely a form of cuckolding)

Desmond’s mother would be distant and ignore all of her children (except maybe her daughter) because the whole relationship was just to keep the power among the nobles so there’s no love lost anywhere. Desmond doesn’t feel anything for her and, yeah, there’s some childish pain there, but he’s good at ignoring his unresolved feelings for his parents at this point anyway.

Madeleine is Desmond’s favorite sibling and she’s quite spoiled. Desmond’s influence makes her more open to their father’s preferences but she’s quite reserve about it, blushing whenever she tries to open up and ends up just going ‘never mind’. Desmond gives her a more clinical explanation to these kinds of things in a form of a notebook of some sort because he thought she would be too embarrassed and awkward if he directly talked to her. This leads her to the path of voyeurism and enjoying erotica so… well… you win some, you lose some. She joins her brother in visiting their father in secret though, because if words got out that the young de Sade girl was a deviant, she’ll be ruined in the eyes of the nobility. Their father and Desmond just go “it’ll be fine.” because they’re actual deviants (by 17th~18th century standard anyway)

His father and sister are the main reason why Desmond stayed in France. He could have gone to America as soon as he turned 13 (maybe even 10 if he was really determined enough) but he didn’t because he didn’t want to leave his little sister and someone has to look after his father without judgmental eyes.

Desmond does, however, send money and supplies to Davenport manor, disguising it as an investment or some sort although the American Brotherhood knows he’s an ally of some kind. He is also Ratonhnhaké:ton’s pen pal.

Arno and Desmond’s Relationship

Arno would see Desmond as a beautiful mysterious man tempting him at every chance. The way he moves, the way he speaks, the way he looks at Arno. It makes Arno feel a lot of things that he had never felt before and he is torn between remaining loyal to Élise who is always running (not from him, Arno doesn’t think that, she’s not… is she?) or finally taking a bite of the fruit the devil keeps dangling in front of him.

Desmond… knows Arno has a crush on him but he actually doesn’t act all that different. He might have a soft spot for Arno because he’s an Assassin who clearly needs help and maybe he pays more attention to Arno than the men and women throwing themselves at the bored prince but, let’s be clear, Desmond isn’t trying to lead him on. He’s flirting with him but it’s more on the side of “I’ve been a bartender far too long that flirting on an easy mark is more of an unconscious choice because I might get more tips” than actual serious flirting.

Unfortunately, Desmond doesn’t know that Arno is having a very confusing bisexual awakening that’s only amped up by all the usual 17th~18th century repression thing soooo, yeah, Desmond doesn’t know he’s affecting the young man more than he was thinking.

Marquis de Sade definitely wants Arno to join in. With him or with his son, he doesn’t care, Arno is just a wonderful specimen to be left in that uptight boring world. He also knows Arno’s ‘crush’ on his son, he keeps pushing him to his son though because that would be fun.

In other words, Desmond is unintentionally creating a love triangle that he honestly have no time or desire to be part of. He doesn’t know about Élise! He honestly thought Arno is single (“He has that pathetic wet virgin kitty vibe to him.” “I don’t think he’s a virgin, my boy.” “Oh, definitely not. Maybe it’ll be better to say he’s ‘pure’?” “Ah. Well then, have fun corrupting him.” “We’ll see, father.”)

Once Desmond learns of Élise, he’ll back off (and even feel a bit icky because he was unintentionally becoming the ‘hoe who the asshole cheated on’) and it’s… it’s gonna get messy, especially considering Desmond’s inclusion in Arno’s life makes Arno wonder if he and Élise are even still together or if… his love for Élise was true and not something twisted by his lonely childhood and his ‘abandonment’ issues.

Oh shit. I just turned this smutty fic idea to angst, abort, abort, abort.

If Desmond and Arno will have a relationship, it’ll be after Dead Kings DLC.

You know what would be funny?

If Arno realized he wasn’t just sexually attracted to Desmond but was in love with him during the ending parts of Dead Kings when he finally accepts Élise’s death.

Then when he returned to Paris?

He learned that Desmond had taken his sister to America and now…

Arno thinks Desmond is the one who got away.

(“Arno, I can’t believe I’m saying this… you can follow him to America. He’s literally living with the American Brotherhood. We know where he is.” “I have missed my chance. There is nothing left for me to do.” “Oh my god. Someone just chokes this drama queen unconscious so we can ship his ass to America!”)

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 26 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: If I wasn't getting declarations of war before, I certainly am going to now. Oops?? Anyways—sorry, not sorry! As always, let me know what you think!

December 1944

A day trip to London should have been the exact cure that Ruth needed to help cope with the loss of two of her siblings. Especially during the oh so jovial holiday season—and the current Colonel thought it prudent to get her manic work-ethic away from the men that were just trying to do their jobs.  Robby had been sent to London with her but Ruth hated the fact that they were even going to be gone for a weekend. 

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Ruth wasn’t one to show the emotions she was feeling or let something as visceral as grief go easily.  So though she was miles from her job and from her work, her mind lingered and did not leave her thought-processes.  And it was painfully evident to Robert Rosenthal that Ruth Sharpe was sinking in her ship of solitude and isolationist policy. In comparison, Abe was doing much better—seeing a therapist and everything.  But not Ruth.  

He wished that she would just let him in—to some level or degree—even the deck of the ship of solitude would do at this point.  But she was keeping him far from her—and in the storm of Ruth Sharpe’s grief, he was a sinking man overboard that would never find his way to a lighthouse.  

Any attempt at conversations broaching the topic of either Sarah or John—or retrieving John’s locker from London ended in harsh words and distance.  And that wasn’t what she needed right now—he knew that.  So he had stopped pushing the issue several weeks back in the hopes that being her friend would be enough.  He should have known that when it came to Ruth, ever-unchanging and firm in her stances, it would not be enough to just be there for her. 

At the moment, Ruth was purchasing a pair of men’s gloves, presumably her present to Abe when they returned.  The cane that was supporting her weight made a tapping noise as she rejoined him. 

Truth be told, it hurt Robby Rosenthal that Ruth would hide the extremities of her spinal pain from everyone.  The cane had come as a necessity the month prior when she had nearly collapsed and could barely stand the pain in her back yet again.  It had steadily been getting worse and with her refusal to care for herself, he had no choice but to go to the doctor on base about the situation and present her with a cane.  She hadn’t spoken to him for three days before she agreed to use the damn thing—and she hadn’t said a word about the cane since. 

“Find what you’re looking for?” Robby questioned. 

“Satin hair-ties, a book for Liesel, a pair of gloves for Abe, and a snowglobe for the little brat,” Ruth answered, glancing at her bag.  She pinched her coat together tighter, glancing at the falling snow outside.  “We should probably get on the road soon or we may end up stuck in London.” 

“Oh I don’t know,” Robby replied lightly.  “It might not be that bad. You and me, just spending time in London—we could go dancing.” 

Ruth’s features nearly fell at the words.  “I can barely stand and you want to go dancing?” 

“I didn’t mean—” 

“No, I know what you mean.” 

“Well,” Robby glanced around at the Christmas market, another idea brimming to the surface.  “We could always stop by the—” 

“No.” 

“But Ruth, John’s locker is just sitting there—” 

Ruth’s eyes flashed with anger and she jabbed her cane in his direction.  “I am not picking up my little brother’s locker until I see a damn body.” 

Sympathy and an overwhelming ache to hold her in his arms and comfort her overtook Robby’s brain as he looked at her.  “Ruth—” 

“No, I said no a few weeks ago and I meant it then.  I mean it now.  Leave it alone, Rosenthal.” 

Ah, the dulcet tones of his last name—which well and truly meant she was unhappy with the suggestion and the fact that he was prodding yet again.  

“I just think that it might help you—” 

Stopping short on the sidewalk, Ruth drank in the sight of Robby with a frown on her face.  She couldn’t help the fact that she felt like she was a caged animal and wanted to bite back against anyone that wanted something from her.  “You’re not a part of my damn family, Rosie.  Now back the hell off.” 

“Not part of this family?” Robby echoed the words, surprise clear on his face. 

“No, you’re not.  Did I stutter?” Ruth knew that she was being mean at the moment.  Knew that she was lying through her teeth because she wanted to lash out and hurt the world that had hurt her so much.  And if that meant hurting Robert Rosenthal, then consequences be damned for that.  

“God, you’re such a—” 

“A what?  A bitch?” Ruth’s gaze narrowed at him and a sneer curled up in her lip.  The snow was long forgotten as it fell down around them—but Ruth just felt nothing but the fire of rage and grief gnawing at her and consuming everything around her.  She would be a wildfire that ate up everything in its path and did not look back. 

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Robby barked out the words just as quickly and viciously as she had suggested her original assumption. 

“No?  You know, there is something that I will never understand about you.” 

“And what’s that?” 

“Why the hell you’re still here—I didn’t ask for you to be here.  I don’t want your help or your friendship and I sure as hell don’t need it.” 

“Bullshit, Ruth.” 

“Bullshit, no, I’ll tell you what’s bullshit—” 

“Do you ever shut up?!” Robby nearly roared the words out at her and Ruth abruptly took a step back, gaze narrowing at him.  “What’s bullshit is you—and the way that you won’t ever let anyone in!   I’m not trying to push you away, I’m holding onto you for dear fucking life and you are shoving me away with every wall you keep putting up!” 

“So jump ship, you idiot!” Ruth snarled.  “Take a hint!” 

“No!” Robby bellowed.  “That’s not how this works!” 

“How what works?” Ruth’s voice went deathly calm as she stared at him—a coldness only accentuated by the snow.  “This fake relationship?  Because there is nothing here, nothing real.  We are not friends and we are sure as hell not lovers.  And as far as I’m concerned, this portion of our lives—the lie—it’s over.” 

A cold and meaningless laugh ripped from Robby’s throat—it threatened to spill out as tears but he did not do that.  “You’re running away again.” 

“Again?” 

“Yes, Ruth—Ruth Sharpe—running away again,” Robby said, taking a step closer to her and pressing a finger into her shoulder for emphasis.  “You’re running away because you’re scared.  You’re so afraid of anyone seeing the real you—you can’t fathom anyone actually wanting to be in your life or loving you—and you run the other way.  You gave up someone who loved you because you’re selfishly scared of anything real!  And you’re doing the same thing to me!  You’re lonely and pitiful and we both know it!” 

Deafening silence ricocheted across the gap between them and all Ruth could do was stare at him.  Completely and totally unable to speak, unable to remember how to form words, unable to even deny the facts—because he was right and she knew it.  And the hurt that ached in her chest was like a bloody and gaping wound.  

So Ruth Sharpe did not say anything.  She just gave a simple nod as Robert Rosenthal regretted everything that he had just said.  And he didn’t say anything either. 

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

January 1945

The day that Robert Rosenthal flew the men of the Hundredth to Berlin was the day that Ruth Sharpe’s entire life came to a screeching halt.  There was no way for her to know that it was the last time she’d see either of them—there had been a hopeful feeling in the air when they had left. 

She had carried on quite normally.  She had prayed with Abe before he left and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.  At just three months shy of his 18th birthday, Ruth supposed he was no longer the boy that had arrived at Thorpe Abbotts wide-eyed and just a kid.  No, he was a man now and there was no denying that.  He seemed excited to hit Berlin, excited to head out—and though he had asked her to say goodbye to Rosie, she had not done so. 

What would have been the point? 

Rosie was a capable pilot and considering that he had never led his men astray a single time, this time should be no different.  She wasn’t about to go and talk to him now—not when her pride was still hurt and her heart was still trying to pick up the pieces of trying to leave him behind.  

They could talk when he got back—and she might even apologize for being a bitch.  She might tell him that she missed him and their friendship.  She might tell him that she was just hurting and that she really missed being able to talk to him.  

But that was never to be. 

She sat and waited in the tower, as she always did—fully knowing the risks of sending the men straight to the heart of Berlin were higher than ever.  Jack Kidd and Harry Crosby sat beside her, silently watching and waiting for the boys of the Hundredth to return.  It was several hours before any of the planes would come limping in, trailing smoke and creaking as they either crashed to the ground or fell to the earth in line. 

And when they counted and Rosie’s plane was not amongst the returning planes, Ruth felt her heart stop beating in that treacherous chest of hers. 

Her breath stole away in her throat and she found herself utterly rooted to the spot and unable to move a single inch.  John, Sarah, Abe—Robby—all just gone, all just torn away in the blink of an eye.  They were gone faster than a match could burn up and faster than the tides in the very ocean could change.  

“Ruth—” Kidd managed to catch her around the waist before she crumpled to her knees, hand covering her mouth in absolute silent horror. 

No sounds escaped her throat and the silent scream was louder to everyone in that damn tower than the very sirens that were sounding outside.  Because the silent tears that streamed down her face and no one knew what to do.  Or what to say.  Because what do you possibly say to someone who just lost her brother and friend in the same day? 

“Did—” Ruth’s voice scratched out in horror.  “Did I just lose them both?” 

“I don’t—I—” Crosby’s gaze flickered back outside to the planes, unable to find any words.  “We don’t know.” 

“I can’t—” Ruth’s voice tore off as she rose to her feet, quicker than any of them could anticipate.  “I can’t breathe—” 

Bile rose up in her throat and she made a mad dash for the outside of the tower.  Making it two steps outside, Ruth caught onto the railing and the bile spilled up her throat.  She gagged as her breakfast deposited on the ground below, but she didn’t wait around for more bile to come.  She rushed down the stairs, nearly skipping them two at a time—cane left behind on the ground where she had been kneeling. 

By the time that she had reached a secluded place, Ruth had no damn idea where she was.  Snow dusted the ground and clumped together and her knees shouldered the numb cold as she sank into the ground.  More bile rose up in her throat and she let out a choked sob as the rest of her stomach emptied its contents on the ground in front of her. 

Fisting at the snow in front of her, she slammed a fist into the ground.  “No, no, no, no—bring them back!  Bring them back RIGHT NOW!” She screamed. 

Her voice echoed around her in the trees but she was met with silence. 

The realization that she would never hug her little brother again made her want to die on the spot.  Her breath came out in short spurts as she curled into a fetal position, wishing desperately for all of this to go away.  

She’d never hug Abe again or adjust his tie.  She’d never get to watch him graduate High School or figure out what he was going to do with his life.  He was never going to marry anyone or father any children and she’d never get to see any of the amazing things that he would do. 

And then her mind betrayed her and shifted—

A horrible wail left Ruth’s lips as she realized the very thing that she had been denying.  The thing that Rosie had been saying for this entire time.  That she had been in love with him.  That she had been scared and he had been right.  She had run away—far away—and now it was too late for them. 

She’d never tell him that she loved him or that she wasn’t scared anymore.  She’d never tell him that she was wrong and that he was right.  Her pride had been too far in the way and now there was no fixing that.  He was dead and gone and Ruth felt the keen sting of loss in a way she had never felt before.  Because for all of her acting with Rosie, it was also the safest she had ever felt. 

Rosie—she had taken him for granted.  He had loved her and been there for her and stood by her through it all.  Through the insane schemes of her brother Abe and helped her with your problems.  He had been her friend and he had been more than that.  He had begged her to listen and to let him in and she had refused. She was to blame for this—she was absolutely certain of it.  A punishment for denying the love that she so clearly had in her life. 

Ruth slowly sat up, mind racing.  Surely—surely if Abe and Robby were dead—she would feel it.  She would know.  Because she loved them.  And God would not just let her suffer needlessly.  No—Robby was a damn good pilot and he would’ve let himself die first before letting anything happen to Abe.  

They were alive.  She was certain of it. 

And she couldn’t just sit here waiting for them to find their way home.  They were lost and she needed to go out and find them.  She felt it like a siren’s song in her very soul.  So as Ruth rose to her feet, her breaths evened out and she stared straight ahead, a firm determination filling her soul. 

“Alright boys.  If I have to fight an angel?  So be it.” 

[montrealmadison]

Ship: Parsechowswoops (don't think this ship even has a name) Kent/Chowder/Jeff Romantic Number: 25 Extra details: I adore love confessions, but if you don't have a specific idea for that, then anything's cool anyways! (My ao3 handle is Atlasthemayor, just like here) Congrats on the 400 followers, and here's to a thounsand more!

this was a really fun pairing and SUCH a challenge but what can i say, i love kent parson and i love you, atlas ❤️ thank you for the kind wishes and for this prompt!!

25. Kent/Chowder/Swoops + love confessions + R.E.M by Ariana Grande for @atlasthemayor

"Excuse me, um, I love you" I know that's not the way to start a conversation, trouble I watch them other girls when they come and bug you But I felt like I knew you, so I just wanted to hug you You like? "I love you" Who starts a conversation like that? Nobody but I do But you are not a picture, I can't cut you up and hide you I'll get you out my mind, mhm, I tried to

As a rule, Kent does not believe in miracles.

It feels good to come back to the desert, to leave the snowy Eastern skies behind for dry and bracing winds. Swoops spends the plane ride home with one big hand curved around Kent’s thigh, a gesture meant to soothe as much as to stop his leg from bouncing. He’s not the only one whose pent-up energy is palpable; the air in the cabin is thick with frustration. They sucked hard on the road this time around, and the time before that, and the time before that. 

Kent does not believe in miracles, so he’s already mentally checked out of the pep talk they’re going to get when they land. His homecoming routine involves no false promises. He wants to eat something bad for him, take a scalding shower, enjoy himself a goddamn nap, and get railed. Not necessarily in that order.

They pile their bags into Swoops’ nice new car and peel through the In-N-Out off West Sahara for shit that definitely doesn’t belong within a mile of their meal plan. Kathleen would own their asses if she found out. Still, licking grease off his fingers takes some of the sting out of the string of losses that keep playing in the back of Kent’s mind.

Some, but not all.

read on ao3 | request a fic here

[knockyasocksoff2022]

👻 The Haunted House - HS/Uni AU 🎃

Based on a cute prompt I saw somewhere. Sakunosuke (22) and Osamu (17) are brothers here. Chuuya is Fukumori's adopted son. Gifts are still present in this au. Saku and Osamu's parents were government spies with abilities of their own and they were killed overseas. Ango is (20).

This took way too long for me to write and I went off my original idea by miles but hey here we are, and this is kind of rushed because I just had this idea and wnated to write somthing. Also I know it's technically to early to be Halloween posting, but do you think I care? NO!

Yay for my first ever Odango fic and also my first halloween fic.

Ships: Odango & Soukoku & Fukumori & Shin Soukoku & Kosano, Ranpoe

Under the cut due to length (1,666 words)

Sakunosuke's Perspective

It was no accident that when my parents chose to move us here it was so close to the good universities. (Looking back on it now it's almost as if they knew that they would . . .)

But when they died of mysterious circumstances (they worked for the government and nobody would tell us exactly what happened), I decided I would stay home to care for Osamu, who was six at the time. 

But then when their will was read it was explicitly stated that both of us had to stay in school through uni or else we wouldn't get any inheritance. It didn't make any sense, if I had to leave for uni in seven years, who was going to care for Osamu?

Luckily when I got into uni it was close enough that I can drive home most weekends with no trouble. And our neighbours, an older couple, Yukichi and Rintarou Mori-san, watch over Osamu while I'm gone for the week. They have a daughter named Elise, a kid named Kyusaku, and a son named Chuuya who's in Osamu's grade. Plus Chuuya is Osamu's boyfriend.

I have a boyfriend as well, Sakaguchi Ango. He follows me into the house. 

We're a little early because we only have one afternoon class on Fridays so Osamu and Chuuya haven't been let out of school yet.

We get to work, filling my school bag with snacks and water and the ouija board, all in preparation for tonight's adventures.

You see, there's this old house that used to belong to some old mafia boss who passed away from illness a few years ago. The property has fallen into decay ever since, and since it's Halloween Osamu begged us to come with him and have a big camp out inside. Because that's like the smartest thing ever.

It's fine, it's not like we have anything else to do. Akiko and Koyou are having a girls only sleepover and Ranpo and Edgar are do a true crime/ghost adventures marrathon (no thank you). If I had to guess Nathaniel is handing out flyers about resisting the devil to innocent kids who had the unfortuante idea to try and trick or treat at his house, and Howard is asleep.

Besides, it's not dangerous, and Ango and I will be able to say we made out in a haunted house.

We hear the keys rattle, and childishly Ango and I duck behind the sofa. 

When we hear footsteps entering the kitchen we jump out. "Trick or Treat!!!"

"AHHH! What the ever loving Jesus?"

"Huh?" I'm just as confused as the kid who just jumped a metre in the air. They're pale with perfectly divided lavender and white hair down to his hips, and they're hiding behind a tall boy who's even more of a bean pole than Osamu.

"Calm yourself, Sigma." He has an unmistakable Russian accent. He turns to Osamu, "This is your brother?"

"Fuck you, Saku." Osamu flips me off with a smile in lieu of an answer. I ruffle his hair and he hugs me. I tug at the bandages over his eye playfully.

"What happened there?"

He doesn't answer. 

"He ran into a pole." Chuuya explains. 

Ango raises an eyebrow behind his owl like glasses. "Okay, I doubt that, but anyways . . ."

"Cool, Osamu never mentioned having siblings!" Another boy steps forward with his hand outstretched, his handshake is firm and he shakes harder and faster than is necessary. His white plait shakes with the motion and his small top hat threatens to slip off his head but doesn't.

"I'm Nikolai! Can you guess where I just moved from?" The boy for some reason reminds me of a circus troupe member. He pronounces his name with a heavy accent but the rest of the words are almost accent free.

"Umm . . ."

Nikolai looks at the other Russian boy, as if telling him something silently.

"Five more seconds." The boy says in a bored monotone. It takes me a second and I realise he must be translating. Nikolai must have practised the first line to say it in Japanese, how cute.

Hmm, if he's asked me to guess, maybe he isn't russian. Ah, why am I taking this so seriously? Whatever!

" . . . Russia." I guess.

"Nope. Wrong. You lose." the boy translates again in monotone. I suppress a laugh, not wanting to seem rude.

"He moved here from Ukraine on Monday. But he speaks Russian so Fyo's helping him learn Japanese." Osamu explains

"You speak very well already Nikolai-kun." 

Nikolai beams, "Thank you for the compliment, but Fedya is the one to thank for all his work, he's been teaching me so well. Fedya's such a good teacher." 

"Yeah, count on Mackerel here, to invite the weird Russian kids to our camp out." Chuuya scoffs and pulls Osamu closer. My brother doesn't say anything for a moment. Then he gestures to the tallest of the russians.

"This is Fyodor, the one I've told you about. He moved here from Russia last year."

"Oh, yeah, you've mentioned him."

"How have you been liking Japan?" Ango asks

"It's a bit hot but on the whole a quaint place." he says it like he's reading from a travel blog written by the people who write instruction manuals.

This time neither I nor Ango can stifle our laughter. It is objectively true, Japan is alot smaller than Russia.

Chuuya points to the kid with the two toned hair, "This is Sigma, nobody really knows where they came from, they kind of just appeared when we were grade 7. This is the first time we've brought them over. They're five by the way, so no swearing tonight."

"Shut up!" Sigma shoves Osamu who's still firmly anchored to Chuuya, and doesn't move.

Chuuya's shoulders shake with laughter and he pats Osamu's shoulders to congratulate him on the tease.

"Alright, we've got snacks, water and that stupid book Kunikida bought for Osamu's birthday last year, about catching ghosts."

"Koonikida? The idealist? Hmm, and I thought he was allergic to fun. It's good, maybe Osamu is rubbing off on him." Nikolai giggles maniacally.

"So is everyone coming then?" Fyodor sounds less than pleased.

"Nope, Kunikida says he has to study, he joined some group with some of the American transfer students, Meg and Louisa, at least that means we're seeing less of him." Chuuya emphasises the word study to show exactly what he thinks of the slightly older boy, "It's fine with me. Think about it surrounded by girls and yet, at this point he should just find himself a boyfriend. It's those "ideals" of his, I'm telling you. He shared a few with us once . . ." he shivers theatrically, "My ears are scared now. John said this whole thing was lame, but he's really just being a coward. Atsushi and Ryu finally got the courage to ask each other out, they're having a sleepover. And Kenji invited Kyouka to go trick or treating in his village. They left this morning."

Everyone nods.

"So, you got supplies?" he asks me

"Yup!"

We all look out the window to the street where the sun's light is beginning to get softer and night is bleeding its way across the sky, smudging the blue with black until the whole canvas is covered.

"Well, it's starting to get dark. We should leave now." Ango hands me the bag and we set off.

The walk is far but it passes quickly with the chatter of the group. Chuuya and my brother stayed in the back. I notice Osamu hasn't said much of anything but that isn't too unusual for him.

When we get to the decrepit old building it looks like the inspiration for all the haunted houses I've ever seen. The yard is full of broken or rusted lawn ornaments and ivy covers the crumbling wood siding of the house.

When we walk to the front door I look back and do a quick head count. Everyone's here. And Osamu is wearing Chuuya's jacket. He shivers even though the night is warm.

"Awww, are you cold Osamu?" I tease my brother who clings to his boyfriend.

Chuuya shoves me back gently and rolls his eyes, "Oi, lay off, he's sick." 

Oh. That must be why he's been so quiet. And now that I think about it he does look paler than normal.

"Aww, did you catch the sniffles?"

"Shut up, I'll cough on you Saku, don't think I won't."

We all laugh at the quiet violence in his voice. I'll admit he even scares me sometimes but he's clearly in no condition to do anything. 

"Did any of you pack medicine, or am I expected to do everything round here?" Ango asks the question I'd just been thinking.

"We're not dumb, yeah I have some stuff in my bag. My dad is a doctor, remember?"

"Yeah, Saku. I'll be fine, let's gooooo already." he draws out the go with exaggerated boredom.

"Yay, LET'S GOOO! Yippie!" Nikolai jumps up and down until Fyodor forces him to stay put with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Osamu shoves me and I shove back, then we step inside. 

"Bet you can't make it all night, eh, Sigma?" I hear Chuuya say to the kid who honestly looks a little terrified.

"O-of c-ourse I can." Then under his breath, "Why do I go along with these idiots?"

This is going to be the most interesting Halloween we've had so far, that's for sure.

(A/N: Yes, I did remember now that Ango is his surname and I may change it but couldn't think of a cute nickname Oda would have for him and I didn't feel like typing Sakaguchi out a bunch of times.)

[ihatemisinformstion]

I hate TikTok so much you have no idea how much I hate it they hear one little thing out of context and then they suddenly say it’s canon hurting like half of there own community because they hate queer black people for some god awful reason I don’t even know about the micro aggressions or the fact that people think HOBIE x miles is a proship I will say this once and I will say this again I will LIGIT clear everything on hobie having a canon age because he does not. And I’m tired of people on TikTok and anywhere else saying the same thing and I might change this into my second acc just for flowerpunk and I’ll actually put my name but I’m not gonna cause I don’t wanna have this turn into a big thing if they do confirm he’s over 18 but anyways I’m going to give all my points cause I think people see something and they automatically think it’s true

To the people saying he's 19/20 that was a director talking about his concept design and could be more based on the comics it's safe to assume that Sense another director said it's up for interpretation and Gwen said he's about her and miles age then he's most likely a teen below 18 and was aged Down for the movie and it's kinda obvious because he hangs around the teen squad don't litsen to the misinformation everyone is sayin as well as the clip that people are talking about is completely out of context and so I need you to all stop it!! I’m not even an adult and I despise pro shipping it’s one of the things that triggers me into things it’s weird and it’s weird your putting a silly ship into this horrible topic so many think it’s ok to put in because the age is unconfirmed half of you people just don’t like queer black people and I am one so for the love of god stop calling people proshippers when they view hobie as a kid!!!

Phil Lord who's also a director said it's up to interpretation/headcanon plus even likened him to Sex pistols who started off young. Alsp like I said the whole Gwen and Hobie implied/jokes about being together thing would be weird as f https://twitter.com/sillyabtspiders/status/1666405777009958913?t=ct4kf0PoYIeUHwsP3tsHDQ&s=19

Of course there’s the other video but again that is concept hobie and prowler hobie not even the hobie we See as well as HOBIE is Most likely aged down and based off teen hobie stop bringing it up because it doesn’t matter!!! I’m literally so upset with being called a proshipper and such and it’s actually really stupid that I have to fight on this because everyone other ship is fine except when there both black and queer it’s weird to how much people care and I’m so tired I’m so very tired of it. I literally cannot take it anymore it’s weird you people are just as weird I’m just so upset right now and by the way I’m writing you probably have already seen me post a bit on my main but it’s embarrassing how you all cling to one thing

I feel great comfurt in this ship I do with a lot of dynamics and I don’t even ship punkflower hard I just think it’s cute but the way you people look at soemthing and think “wow proshipper” is insane because eTHATS NOT WHAT IT IS IM SORRY ITS NOT IT MAKES ME SO FRUSTRATED and I can’t tell if it’s cause I’m getting hyper fixated on this or what but I hate when this happens because wir causes so many people stress for no reason but your stupidity

Unless every single director comes out and says that HOBIE is older than 18 and not with Gwen and miles I will delete this and actually admit to it ok I’m not unreasonable I’m angry but that wouldn’t make sense because why would they tease romantic relationship as well as having hobie be with the minor coded charachters all the time

IM SO SORRY IF YOUR STRESSED BY THIS BECAUSE IM THE SAME I JUST FEEL LIKE WE WILL NEVER WIN and it’s so AKWARD I seriously hope that this whole situation gets cleared up and people will be able to ship and have there family dynamics and I’m sorry for anyone who doesn’t wanna see discourse just wanted to finally clear everything up because I know it stresses me out so I can’t imagine how other people feel

[merryfortune]

i want to marry that girl (marry her anyway)

Written for Femslash February & the Sweetheart Bingo by @sweetspicybingo

Day 3. Marry Me

Title: i want to marry that girl (marry her anyway)

Ship: Postureshipping | Asuka/Emi

Word Count: 

Universe: GX - Canon Compliant

Rating: 1,844

Tags: Age Difference, Student/Teacher Relationship, One-Sided Relationship, Unrequited Pining 

   Asuka understood that her teachers were humans like anyone else better than most of her peers did.

   A strange statement yes but not intended as an indictment on her friends and acquaintances. Their senses of empathy were just not yet as evolved as hers and thus still revolved around egocentric adolescence. They were getting better, though, Asuka had merely arrived at the destination first. 

   Not intended as a brag. Merely a statement. An observation.

   She saw how hard her teachers worked for them, even when they spat in their faces, slept during class, or otherwise rabble roused in or outside of the classroom. It was admirable. 

  Perhaps Chancellor Samejima detected that in Asuka - that admiration - and that was what had spurred him to reach out to her and advise her. He was a teacher with a scope so enormous, Asuka could hardly begin to describe his wisdom and so, she listened intently.

   She had the whole world at her feet.

   She would graduate soon and be welcome to step out into that big, wide world. Its size was terrifying. Asuka was but a speck in it and had no idea what to do with herself. She didn’t crave victory like Ryo nor did she have the stars aligned like Judai, she didn’t need to have the world chanting her name like Manjoume or Edo and so, she found herself at a loss.

   Of course, Asuka had good grades across the board but aside from Duel Monsters, she didn’t have a specific passion for literature, mathematics, or science. However, it was that broadness which made her ideal for a teaching position. 

   Cynical as it may, those who can’t, did in fact teach.

   Just look at Ayukawa Emi.

   She was the quintessential definition of the adage. Ayukawa-sensei had mentioned here and there. She had turned down modelling positions and acting in advertisements to teach because she felt that her brains were more her calling than her beauty. Asuka didn’t disagree, Ayukawa-sensei was her favourite and she wouldn’t appreciate her for her if she only knew her as “that lady in that one yoghourt” advertisement.

   Asuka had seen the extra mile Ayukawa-sensei went for the ladies dorm of Obelisk Blue firsthand. 

  When Asuka first arrived on Duel Academy Island, she felt clueless and naive but when she saw Ayukawa-sensei with her clipboard, that confusion turned to security. Her bright smile was so welcoming, she pointed Asuka in every direction she needed and more. 

   (A couple years later, Asuka would find herself echoing those exact words to her own underclassmen, thinking of her teacher with a flutter in her heart.)

   And afterwards, whenever Asuka had a worry - no matter how small, if it was school related or in regards to her social life - she always had a trusted ally in Ayukawa-sensei. She had literally seen it all. Thanks to her own high school experiences but what she had learned in the life after high school because yes, friendly reminder, it did in fact exist.

   She hosted ice-cream socials and slumber parties. She made sure everyone did exercises best suited to their body type or their goals. She was serious and no-nonsense when it came down to the hammer but outside of that, she was a joy to be around with a fun sense of humour. 

   Asuka had a whole scrapbook of memories to reminisce through when it came to Ayukawa Emi.

   Most good but some bad, too. Like with the early part of the ordeal involving Yubel.

   The silver lining in that particular situation was that Ayukawa-sensei’s heart of gold truly got to shine because of it. Her wide range of medical knowledge had been a huge difference maker when the school had gotten stranded in the Spirit World. She had done well to hold down the fort and patch up injuries until she literally couldn’t under Yubel’s influence.

   But afterwards, even though it wasn’t her fault, she had literally been possessed, Ayukawa-sensei still apologised for her actions. She didn’t assume her heroics from before made up for the hurt she had caused as one of the mobbed, zombie-like members of the cohort in the fugue state under Yubel’s influence. She didn’t have to do that but it was important to her integrity that she did. Asuka respected that.

   She always had, of course.

   It was these moments that Asuka held onto as she decided to solidify her life’s path. She wanted to be a teacher like her beloved Ayukawa Emi. Nurse, physician, physical education instruction, dorm leader. She really, truly was everything and she did it all with that gorgeous smile, too.

   No wonder Asuka had watched her from the students’ pews in the lecture hall long enough for purely mentoral admiration to turn into a crush.

   It was hard saying goodbye… but Asuka didn’t want to. Or at least not like she was meant to. 

   For the past three years, Asuka had found herself contending with a rather inappropriate crush. She would be the first to admit it but only to herself. Because of all those things like the age gap and the power imbalance, Asuka was terrified to talk openly about it. 

   She mentioned it in passing to her brother, vying to be told to knock it off yet wanting to be validated by the same token. It was confusing and contradictory because that’s what matters of the heart tended to be like. And, annoyingly, Fubuki did consider himself to be a “love doctor”. Whatever that meant.

    So, for better or for worse, he knew more about these sorts of things than her but he encouraged it. Likely only because he only knew about the lesbian aspect of it. He probably wouldn’t be so gungho about encouraging her if he knew that the girl that Asuka had her eyes on wasn’t a girl but rather a woman.

   Either way, Fubuki did remind Asuka, she did have a box of costume jewellery in her room. Odds and ends, knicks and knacks that had been collected over the years from various female family members. Though, she wasn’t much of a jewellery person, maybe her mystery lover was.

   Looking through that box, after Fubuki left, Asuka did find something. It wasn’t satisfactory but maybe it would be good enough. It was only costume jewellery to people whose families weren’t so endowed with wealth like theirs were. 

   Something to think about and Asuka did way too much of it. She wrote scripts and speeches in her head. She mulled over the pros and cons. All of it leading to the realistic outcome that confessing might rid Asuka of these feelings.

   So now, at the culmination of these past three years with her crush, Asuka decided to act on it. 

   “Ayukawa-sensei, can I speak with you?” Asuka asked. “One last time before I graduate. I… I have something I need to get off my chest.”

   Ayukawa-sensei flashed her one of her trademark, beauty queen smiles, “Of course, Asuka, anytime.”

   “Thank you.” Asuka said.

   “Oh and Asuka?”

   “Yes.”

   “Please, call me Emi. You aren’t going to be my student for much longer.”

   She giggled impishly and reluctantly, Asuka adjusted. She had been reminded once or twice before, this was Ayukawa-sensei- no, Emi’s way of trying to instil that Asuka, and her third year peers, were going to be adults soon. And so, she wanted to elevate them.

   Regardless, Ayukawa-sensei or Emi, Asuka felt her heart tremble in her chest. They excused themselves from the rest of the dorm, Emi took her somewhere private: the dorm office. It doubled as a guidance counsellor's because duh. That was a part of Emi’s duties as Ayukawa-sensei’s, too. Not just for the Obelisk Blue Dorm but for anyone who needed it.

   “Do you want to sit down?” Emi asked, gesturing to the chair on the student’s side of the desk: a heavy, four-legged thing which made Asuka all too aware of the imbalance between them.

   “No, I’m right, it should only be quick.” Asuka said.

   “Oh, okay, then.” Emi said and she awkwardly hovered by the corner of her desk. She had clearly been expecting a sit-down conversation.

   But with the nerves Asuka felt, her own legs felt wooden. Her heart raced in her chest and as Asuka gathered her thoughts, she must have taken too long. Her silence turned into a pregnant pause.

   “Whenever you're ready, I’m listening.” Emi added softly. 

  Asuka placed her hand on it, her fingers curled in against the grain as she took a deep breath. She lifted her head and her hand in one swift motion. Her eyes gleamed with determination.

   “I want you to wait for me.” Asuka announced and in a quick motion, she took Emi’s hands. They were baby soft and smelled vaguely of cucumber-melon lotion. Asuka gave them a firm squeeze as she looked Emi directly in the eyes. “I want to marry you.”

   “P-Pardon?” Emi exclaimed.

   Her eyes… How they looked, how they wavered, the way Emi was stricken with panic ever so quickly, it broke Asuka’s heart. She loosened up her grip on Emi but did not fully let go.

   “I want to be a teacher like you. I want us to be teachers together, one day, but I want to wait for you as well. I - I have had feelings for you for so long so please. Will you give me a chance?” Asuka asked. 

   “I -  I can’t, Tenjoin-kun-” 

   The switch from her name to her family name, it wounded Asuka. It was a salient reminder. She was not special. She had merely misunderstood. Those moments one-on-one they had shared prior, they had meant the world to Asuka but here merely one of many to Ayukawa-sensei.

   “Please, Emi.” Asuka tried once more, her heart fit to her break as her eyes welled up with tears. “I even have a ring.”

   Ayukawa-sensei pulled her hands away from within Asuka’s. She could feel Ayukawa-sensei’s skin crawl within the milliseconds long sensation of the rejection.

   And the hesitation. 

   “I can’t stop you from waiting.” she said. “But I won’t wait for you.”

   “I… I see, thank you, Ayukawa-sensei.” Asuka said and she stood back.

   Emi collapsed into her chair. Seemingly thankful to be away from Asuka but she hid the majority of her face in the seat of her palm. She sighed hard. Thoughtful. Maybe even hateful. Either hateful or shameful. 

   Asuka produced that ring she had mentioned. It was silver with a bead of glass which so closely resembled a garnet it could have been mistaken as such.

   “I’ll keep it.” Asuka said, alleviating some of the tension. She fiddled with it awkwardly, trying to shove it down the correct finger with haste.

   “Become a good teacher, Tenjoin-kun.” Emi said, taking her hand off her mouth.

   “I will try my best.” Asuka confirmed and she bowed. “Thank you for hearing me out, Ayukawa-sensei.” With her hands placed in front of her, her ring gleamed against the blue of her schoolgirl skirt, up until her hair flopped forward to hide both it and her face.

[sushispider1212]

Okay! I think I have a general idea of how Akira and Shigeru’s powers work in the Metaverse, and no, they do not have personas (yet 👀)

So basically Igor and the Velvet Room let the two have a tiny fraction of their godly powers, and that basically translates to the equal amount of power nerfed level 99 persona would have, the two are powerful as hell.

Shigeru and Akira’s powers are basically light and dark, as well as some other powers their God forms have, like Shigeru can use the 7 deadly sins as watered down status ailments/physical attacks, and Akira can use almighty attacks.

Shigeru actually likes making light constructs, if you remember me saying a while back that Shigeru could summon a bird construct, that’s basically it, they summon a light construct of a bird, and Shigeru sends it to help the pt’s sometimes when the two are at too far of a distance.

Akira can work with shadows, like darkness, not Shadows lol, his attacks are more brunt force and power house, while Shigeru’s are more accurate and more hits he gets in.

I’m really bouncing around here because It’s really hard to explain how their powers work for me, but just imagine persona 5 mechanics but they got nothin to summon.

And also, Shigeru 100% awakens to a persona when they go face to face with their godly counterpart in the final battle. Idk when Akira awakens to his…probably either in Shido’s palace or Maruki’s. But Shigeru awakens to theirs because they come to terms with what they did and admit to it, and they finally become “Shigeru Ochida” instead of “Yaldabaoth”

Akira’s is similar, he comes to terms with the fact that he’s his own person now, and is not just a part of Ren, but is Akira Amano instead, and learns to accept that.

Shigeru is also the navi for the duo, and he’s JUST like Akechi during 3rd semester, constantly making sarcastic remarks, insulting Akira whenever he gets knocked down or affected with an ailment (“Did you REALLY just get knocked out?! I KNOW you did not just leave this fight to me asshole! Did you even SEE that Shadow RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES?!”) Akira can get a bit emotional about this, but he refuses to cry about it.

also you’ve probably noticed by now, that i ship these two fucking losers around 75%, I’m a sucker for dumbasses who are forced to work together, and besides, they are forced to share a braincell the moment they go in a 5 mile radius of each other, what’s not to love? If you don’t like that, tell me and I’ll 100% stop talking about them that way 👌 (that sounded sarcastic/rude whenever i say it in my head😔)

Anyways, got any thoughts on this? I definitely know I was all over the place for this one lol

This is actively fueling by brain rot. I love this so much.

The opposing concepts thing, and! The ailments Shigeru can provide works well with his role as the navigator. I’m imagining some kind of sick ass finishing move involving those bird constructs.

Also,

You: *talking about your plans for the end game*

Me: *Looking nervously at the pile of notes for my end game. Shoves them a little bit further under the desk.*

And about the shipping. As of this point in time I am considering Shigeru to be the name shared by our Yaldabaoths. My Shigeru Ochida is a high schooler who really really Does Not Like hanging out with people and begrudgingly helps. Your Shigeru Ochida is the legal guardian who is forced to be in proximity with people and therefore acts different.

Our characters are different in my perspective. You can ship your guy, I will be not be shipping mine at this point in time.

I sure hope this is a cohesive answer my brain is currently a warm soup.

[teenagemilkshakefan]

ELITE UPDATE 2: THREE SEASONS FINISHED

Ookayyy let's go so my first elite (let's say review) was after watching just 4 episodes and forming a holy shit amount of opinions for every character coz boy was I wrong..anyways I just finished 3 seasons of elite!.. like wow can't believe that. so let's talk about it. Firstly I get that this is a murder mystery show but like do we get someone or the other getting killed of in the end or like what? okay first things first I said some wild things about some of my babies and i really wanna retract my statement because these people are my babies.. guzman, lu, omar and ander lord i had absolutely no idea that there characters would be here now, like god! okay nadia and guzman I was shipping it then and I am shipping it now (although they broke up, but fuck that! they're still together for me) yeah, so like, believe me no one I repeat not a single person saw the whole nadia and lu friendship coming , like it literally hit me and I was like wha-

THE throuple ended, some people died and we got our second favorite couple - samuel and carla!! aghhh they were soo cute. love them so much! just fyi if you also love them, then don't see the short stories they literally broke up every single couple in there) now coming back to the elephant in the room- POLO*** jesus but I from a hundred miles away could not even think this was gonna happen, like my 1st update is evidence of that, I was so indifferent towards him coz I just didn't care! he was a sidekick imo but somehow this guy even after MURDERING someone made me feel sympathetic for him!! for a murderer like how did they do that!? Polo's death actually made me cry more than marina's ( never liked her but still). He was going through so much . He was in pain. like watching him struggle through life was insanely difficult and his mom supporting patriarchy after being in a lesbian relationship was another level of rage for me. But boy the guy did have a thing for throuples (I am still wrapping my head around the first one) ooh and newbies-- cayetana ,rebeka ( not sure i spelled it right), valerio (*heart eyes*) oh and emir ( idk if that's the name but carla's rich bf) These people somehow pulled the rug right out of my feet. Valerio was in the headlines in s2 and s3. Firstly s2 the whole thing with lu..ooh but that was a bit (no actually very much) weird. Let's not go there. Yeah and the whole cayetana thing..nicee ( as in story wise not in disrespecting your mother for her work wise) i don't really like her tbh but I have a strong gut feeling that I would eventually end up loving her. I still wanna say sorry to guzman. You're the best srsly. samuel I love you, but what you did to rebeka was wrong. So fuck you ( but like gently) yeah uhm rebeka.. okay so new story and lots of drama *widens eyes* obv I love her like how could anyone NOT love her. She's a total babe. ugh this is getting really long okay yeah so about my future elite plans...? none for now, I feel like s3 ended on a good note for me. And if I am being honest. I dug up a bit and found out that samuel and guzman have some beef over a girl in s4 and I am def not in the mood for seeing there friendship get messed up. So yeah for now it's a goodbye to elite. I feel like there should be one more update coz I missed some major plot points like the whole ander and omar thing, and nadia's dad and yeah lu and party scene but *shrugs* let's see.

[cobaltstarling]

So, I rewatched Glass Onion today, second time watching it, and

Like all the cool kids on Tumblr, I have an idea.

I was gonna put this under a read more but y'know what, I'mma tag it with spoilers and that should be enough. Besides, if you haven't watched it yet... what's wrong with you? >:I

ANYWAY.

At the end of the movie, things aren't looking good for the two non-'Disruptors'.

Birdie is basically a sinking ship at this point. She's already signed the statement taking full blame for the sweatshop thing, and even if she tried to weasel out of it, there is solid evidence that she (seemed to) know what she was doing. And Birdie's not going to be getting the money for her shares after testifying against Miles. Peg will have to leave, or go down with the sinking ship, and neither option is great for her having future work.

And on the other hand, we have Whiskey. Now that Duke's dead, she can't really use him to increase her media presence any more. She could try to continue his channel, but that doesn't seem like a good idea. Because A. His channel was dying, and B. It'd be too much of a shift from the maledom bullshit to her running the channel all on her own. Her plan was to get herself out there enough and then eventually run for politics. So that may be what she'll do.

However, while Whiskey is smart, she will still need an assistant. Someone capable of keeping up with a hectic schedule, someone who knows to hold her back, who knows when they should stay quiet, and what not to say. Because as smart as Whiskey is, people do make accidents.

And Peg is very good at keeping Birdie off of social media when she needs to, and will likely appreciate having someone with more brain cells to assist.

So, why don't they go together? Whiskey enters politics, with Peg as her assistant.

And the idea doesn't stop there! Considering that the Disruptors are going to testify AGAIN Miles Bron, so he's going to go away for, y'know, definitely one murder (one of them said they would testify that they saw him driving away from Andi's house), maybe two (they were all there to see him give Duke pineapple juice), one attempted murder (one of them said they'd testify that Miles took Duke's gun), and likely have Alpha taken away from him as well (one said they'd testify that they saw the napkin), or at least, what's LEFT of Alpha, Helen might end up finding herself with a bit of money. Enough to fund, say, someone she became pretty fast friends with on a Grecian island, after talking to her once and finding out that she was a lot more than just a pretty face.

Of course, due to the fiasco with Klear, it might be that Alpha is completely bankrupt and in deep debt and completely dissolved before Helen can acquire it.

But the main crux of my theory is that Whiskey and Peg at least know each other, Whiskey has seen what a hard worker Peg is, and knows how much of a disaster Birdie would be without her, and Peg knows Whiskey, and likely knows, like Helen does, that she is more than just a pretty face. And even if not, can you think of someone else who Whiskey would hire as an assistant?

She might want to hire Claire, but if she did, it would likely be as an advisor more than anything else. And it might just be that her name is mud by the time this comes around in which case Whiskey would want to distance herself from her.

Here's the thing though, even if the disruptor's names are mud after this, because they would have to admit to perjury, or at least the one who will testify about the napkin will. Lionel will be in trouble for trying to push Klear when it comes out how dangerous it is, Claire will be in trouble for pushing for the power plant when she knew how dangerous it is, Birdie's going to be in trouble for the sweat shop thing...

But they could still make comebacks from this. It's not impossible, stranger things have happened.

You know who won't be making a comeback, though?

Miles Bron, the man who decided to power his house on an experimental fuel he had been told was dangerous, and which led to the Mona Lisa being burnt.

At least, while he is in prison, he will have the comfort of knowing that he is spoken of in the same breath as the Mona Lisa...

Even if that comfort is miniscule, considering he was the man who destroyed it.

[greaterstolenlandspolycule]

💯🍎💘for liesel!

💯 Share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

Liesel's name was originally going to be Ainsel. I changed it because a) I wanted to make their hometown culture more German with some parts of Scottish rather than the other way around (Ainsel is a name from a Scottish folktale); b) I discovered someone else on a server I was/am on had an oc named Ainsel and I wanted to reduce confusion; c) I thought the idea of them having a name that had "lies" in it would be fun, even if it's pronounced differently (and it allowed me to make their ship name with Tristian "Lies and Trust" which is fun for a lot of reasons :3); and d) the name "Liesel" is related etymologically for a word for "oath", and even though they are a Lying Liar Who Lies, they take actual oaths seriously (which is why they avoid making them for the most part)

I'm not sure on this yet, because I'm still pretty early in their journey, but I think they might eventually start worshipping Desna and her shadow, Black Butterfly, in conjunction

They are, purely mechanically speaking, a Musetouched Aasimar with the Fey Foundling feat (thanks to the mod Call of the Wild). 

🍎 Where was your oc born? Do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? How do they feel about their birthplace?

(Technically Liesel was born in the First World, but they first came to consciousness in and grew up on Golarion)

Liesel was raised in a small farming community located between the branches of the Echo Wood, near the River Kingdoms-Numeria border. While it is considered a very “normal” village by a lot of metrics, it’s pretty abnormal by River Kingdoms standards, since the River Kingdoms are. Wild. 

(I still haven’t named the village, though, so I welcome suggestions!)

Basically it’s unusually safe and stable because farmers are held pretty highly by Riverfolk so they aren’t victimized that much by them and the Numerians don’t attack them much because they prefer to be a bit stealthier in their raids, which means going through the Echo Wood as long as possible (and all the giant spiders inside it) rather than going through the village (also they’re a bit more focused on raiding the Protectorate of the Black Marquis nearby, which they have an ongoing feud of sorts with). Additionally, the village is only a few days travel away from Fort Inevitable (manned by Hellknights of the Order of the Pike (monster hunters)) and Fort Riverwatch (manned by Iomedean knights who were on their way to Mendev for the Crusade against the Worldwound when they decided hey we should probably try to protect some people here it’s a disaster), which adds a slight threat of vengeance for any raids on it.

Also it’s just straight up a very small farming village. They mostly just have rye and sheep and goats and whatever crops it’s good to rotate rye with.

It's extremely boring; Liesel was always excited when travelers came by the village for whatever reason.

BUT anyways Liesel has deeply complicated feelings around their home. They currently live hundreds of miles away from it, in their barony's capital of Tuskdale, and have no plans to ever return or, frankly, to get close to it again--that would be too risky. It's not an accident that they mostly took on jobs on the opposite side of the River Kingdoms. Honestly, they feel like it isn't their hometown, but rather the hometown of the child that died so they could take their place; they feel like they don't have a right to it. They're used to living a lie, but that was more than they could really handle. But they also know that they would probably be chased out if they told the truth.

Even though it fucked them up in some key ways, and they never really made any friends in it, they still hold a lot of love for their village and their parents-they-don't-think-they-have-the-right-to-call-their-parents.

They left less because they were afraid of what physical harm they might experience if they were revealed to be a fey, than because they were afraid of what emotional harm they would experience as a result of being hurt by something they loved so deeply.

💘What and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?

Keeping in mind that this is just the beginning of Act 2, so Liesel and their relationships have a long way to go, but as it stands now, the sad answer is that it’s themself and their safety. While Liesel is, deep down, a lonely person who desperately craves connection, they’re so used to being lonely that they don’t really know any other way to exist; combined with their trust issues, they haven’t yet developed enough of a bond with any of their companions to actually have more than a fondness for some of them. They’ve also never really had friends (or romantic partners, although they’ve had a decent amount of physical ones) at all, so it’ll take them a while to realize what they’re feeling.

[sanddusted-wisteria]

Latet Enim Veritas [Part 2/3]

Truth is indeed hidden...

F!Builder/Grace; fluff and angst

Warnings: Spoilers for Act 3. Major character death(?), mentions of animal death

Summary: Wisteria and Grace are still talking, even a hundred miles apart.

But is it easier or harder to hide the truth in letters?

Also on AO3

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A/N: So uh…turns out the brainrot don't stop, and here I am again with Wis and Grace! Once again, I have no idea how this happened, but it's hereeeee

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Hey Wis,

What’s up? Sorry it took me so long to write. Had a lot to do once I got back to Atara. My professors were really interested to hear about all the relic discoveries we made in Sandrock. Gotta say, the entire field’s real pumped up about what we found. We got experts writing articles left and right about em. I’ve been making talks everywhere too. So many great questions! I’m pooped. But I think I’m back on my Atara schedule now. Feels weird after getting used to the Sandrock pace of life.

But anyway, that’s pretty much it for me. Just gotta keep going with my studies. How’ve you been? How’s Sandrock doing? Heard the Portia tunnel was just built. I can’t wait to see it when I get back!

Grace

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

Hey Grace!

It’s so good to hear from you! I’m still building (obviously). And yeah, the tunnel’s done, FINALLY. Had to deal with a nasty giant worm in there, but we got it. We started taking on some other projects too, now that the whole bandit situation’s wrapped up. We’re getting a school now! An old house just became available, so we’re building it on top of that. And with the road to Portia, we’re gonna try planting some more trees! Don’t think I’ve ever seen Zeke or Trudy so excited. And then a Geegler showed up one day from the canyon! He was the same guy that was trying to use a train to take over Sandrock all that time ago and broke the bridge. Name’s Larry. Seems like he’s good now…although he’s taken over your job at the saloon. Hope you don’t mind…

Oh yeah, and we got a new commissioner too. SOMEhow, it so happened to be Yan’s twin brother. Oh, and Yan apparently has a twin brother. Luckily he’s a lot more…like an actual human being than Yan was. Well, maybe. Man’s got skin like he’s twenty and says he’s more than twice my age… But at least he’s running a fair and tight ship. My guard’s not down yet, though.

How’d the meeting with your boss go? Never a fun thing to have a 1-on-1 with the boss. Trust me, I know. Hope it went okay. Hope you can come back soon.

Wis

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

Wis,

The meeting wasn’t as bad as I thought, honestly! The board of directors weren’t super thrilled with the rules violations, but the results speak for themselves, don’t they? Couple of them even commended my quick critical decision making! They let me off scot-free. Not even a warning or anything.

I just submitted my capstone yesterday. Just a final note to the whole Sandrock adventure. It felt really weird stamping it and packing it in the envelope and handing it in. Still feels weird. Thought I’d be throwing a huge celebration when I was done with this project, with drinks and everything. But all I wanted was to go to bed. So that’s what I did.

Slept like a log, even though it was pretty noisy upstairs. Sounded like they were throwing a parade or something up there with all the stomping and the music. Kinda feels nice to have a noisy neighbor every once in a while, I guess. Makes it feel a little less lonely. Especially since I haven’t seen you guys in so long. I really, really hope I can visit soon.

Grace

P.S.: Managed to hear some rumors that that new commissioner of yours is legit. Apparently his death certificate was forged?? Yan must’ve paid someone a pretty penny to get rid of him…or maybe not, since, y’know, he’s still alive.

P.P.S: Ha ha, now a Geegler’s taken over my job, huh? Well, as long as he can cook a proper omelet, I guess I can’t really complain. Maybe he can teach me some stuff when I get back. Wonder what Geeglers normally eat.

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

Grace,

I still miss you. We all do over here. The saloon doesn’t feel the same without you around. But don’t worry! We’re not going anywhere. The whole bandit situation proved that. Once you’re back, we can have that big celebration you planned.

How’s the archeology work and stuff? Not sure if the field’s cooled down by now and moved on to the next big thing. Hard to say from over here. It’s been like 2 months and Qi still won’t shut up about the spaceships. Not that I mind. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him so enthused about anything. And this time it doesn’t involve any property damage, so that’s a net positive!

Sandrock’s mostly still the same old. Only real difference is that Haru left pretty recently, though. He’s off to study chemistry in Atara. It’s great that he finally has the chance to chase his dreams. He told me to wish you well.

In other news, we planted a bunch of trees, but a sandstorm took them out. But we’re not giving up. There’s an Old World lab of some kind that’s supposed to have some different algae that we can try to make biocrust with. We’re going to explore it in a bit. Hopefully I can take some notes and pictures for you while I’m down there.

Be sure to get enough sleep, okay? Work’s important, but you can’t do it if you’re sleep-deprived.

Wis

P.S.: Wei’s proving himself…but my hackles aren’t down yet.

P.P.S.: Larry’s actually a pretty decent chef! Shame he can’t really partake in the fruits of his labor, though. Geeglers mostly eat algae. Apparently those algae machines we’ve been remaking are their “meal machines.” Fang’s been testing what human foods he’s able to eat. But even so, there is only ever ONE Grace Sand Omelet.

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

It was warm.

Warm air, warm food, warm lights.

Warm heart.

Owen raised his glass and said something. Grace couldn’t hear exactly what it was, but his smile and his voice were warm.

One by one, everyone around the table raised their glass. Heidi. Logan. Andy. Haru. Qi (begrudgingly).

And last of all, right by her side, Wis.

They all drank and laughed and went back to chatting amongst themselves.

Except Wis. She simply put her glass down and turned to Grace, all the warmth of the room reflected in her eyes. She lifted a gentle hand to Grace’s cheek and leaned in.

It was so very warm.

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

Grace woke up slowly. Pleasantly. A nice change of pace from forced wake-ups and diligently-set alarms.

She curled tighter into her blankets, trying to hold the warmth in her stomach inside just a little longer. She stole a glance at Wis’s last letter on her nightstand.

I still miss you.

Her chest ached as the warmth faded. She sighed. Well, that was that.

She got up, washed up, and changed, then sat down at her desk to pen her reply.

Wis,

I miss you too. Last night I

She froze. What the hell? Why would she write that down?! “Last night I dreamed that you kissed me”? “Last night I realized I missed you more than anything”? “Last night I figured my chances of seeing you again are even slimmer now”? Well, she could salvage it with something more innocuous…

I miss you too. Last night I dreamed I was back in Sandrock and we were holding that party I was talking about. Don’t remember all the details, but I knew I was really happy.

Heh, funny you mentioned Qi. We’ve been getting his reports on the regular nowadays to assess the area as time goes on. And they are LONG. Like “I don’t even know how he’s typing all this through the telegraph” long. Poor telegrapher’s gotta work in shifts to get the whole thing down. And then we’ve got a committee that simplifies what he gives us. And then another committee goes in and simplifies THAT before it gets to my bosses.

But anyway, it looks like the gist of it is that the region’s pretty non-hazardous now. Y’know, since the pest removal and all the broken relics were so effective. Unfortunately…that means I probably won’t get another assignment for the Sandrock region anytime soon. Unless one of you guys starts wrecking the whole place again, I dunno. (Please do not do that.)

Kinda sucks, but at least we can still keep in touch this way. Maybe that’s why I dreamt about you guys last night. Hope you get the tree problem sorted. You guys always find a way.

Grace

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

Grace,

Huh. Strange coincidence. I dreamed about you being back too. We were just hanging out at the bar like usual. Think I ordered my usual? Can’t remember. The kitchen wasn’t on fire, so I guess it was a good day!

And yeah, we did get the tree problem sorted…hopefully. We did end up finding some new algae machines in there, so we’re trying those out. Fingers crossed. Didn’t get any notes for you, though. Sorry. There were some leftover Geeglers in there, and they were not friendly. Apparently Larry’s no longer the boss. Ah well. Guess we have something to do when you get back. And you WILL be back some day. I know it. I’ll be waiting. :)

Wis

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

Wis opened up her mailbox and shuffled through the usual junk mail.

Nothing from Grace.

She sighed. “3 weeks…”

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

Hey Wis,

Sorry it’s been so long since I last wrote. I’ve just been sooo busy lately. Wish I could give you more details, but…you know. I’ve hardly had any energy left after I come home at night. I just take a quick shower and collapse into bed.

But anyways, how’ve you been? I’m sure there’s plenty of exciting new things going on in Sandrock. Fill me in!

Grace

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

Grace,

You doing okay? You don’t need to tell me all the details, but still. Letters are still kinda slow even with express postage, but if you’re ever having a bad day/week/whatever, you can talk to me.

Not sure if you have any friends over in Atara, but maybe you should take some time off and hang out with them. Take a walk. Go to a nice restaurant. Just get your head away from work for a bit, y’know? Then you can come back at it with fresh eyes.

You’re strong, I know, but don’t forget to take care of yourself.

Wis

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

Wis,

It kinda slipped my mind when we were at the station, but I wanted to give you the photo I included with this letter. It’s me with my old partner, Cookie. We were still in training then. He was such a good boy. Did a lot of early missions with me.

But…on one mission…I lost him. I’ll spare you the details, but it hit me hard. Still does, really.

Ever since then, I’ve kinda kept people at an arm’s length. Part of the job, I guess. I interviewed a bunch of new archeologist recruits the other day, and they all came in with such high hopes in their eyes… I just dunno how to tell them what it’s really like here. I have some friends, not a whole lot outside the archeology field. We hang out sometimes and it’s fun, but I still feel the struggle to connect sometimes. You’re the first person in a good long while to really get to know me.

Sorry for unloading all of that onto you so suddenly. I’m fine, though. Really. Although…a little PTO isn’t a bad idea.

Grace

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

Grace,

I’m so sorry about Cookie… I’m sure he was every bit as good as he looks. Since you’re giving this to me, I figured I should return the favor. Hopefully it won’t get lost in the mail…

And I understand. Making real, true friends is hard. I never really made any good friends at the Builder’s Academy either. Though one of them ended up saving my skin when my old workshop closed down. So even distant friends can be important. Can’t imagine what it’s like in your shoes.

If nothing else, at least, you have me. And again, if you’re ever feeling pressed, you can talk to me. Always.

Wis

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

Grace laid on her bed, staring at the photo in her hand in the dim lamplight.

It was Wis sitting on the ground outside her front door, cradling a grumpy-looking Banjo in her lap with a grin on her face, while Nemo jumped up excitedly next to her.

A faint smile rose on Grace’s lips. It’d been so long since she’d last seen Wis. Well, outside her dreams, that is.

Her eyes grew heavy. Another long day. She’d get up to tuck this somewhere safe…right after…she gave her eyes…a quick rest…

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

Sunsets were always better in the desert. Not only was the sky more colorful, but the beautiful reds and oranges of the sands made it all pop that much more.

Grace breathed in a deep lungful of fresh, crisp air, letting it out as a content sigh. This was her favorite time of day.

She waved goodbye to Owen and set out towards the train station. For home.

She glanced over to the distant mountain range as she crossed the tracks. The sun was just starting to sink behind the tallest peak. Beautiful.

But not as beautiful as…

An excited barking got her attention. She looked back down again to see Nemo running up to her.

“Hi, Nemo!” she giggled as he yipped and ran circles around her legs. “Is Wisty not playing with you? Aw, she’s no fun…”

“Just give me a second…” came a groan from the workshop yard. “Don’t steal my doggy, Grace…”

“Too late!” Grace chimed, leaning down to give Nemo a well-deserved scratch. “He’s mine now.”

“Well, doggone it,” Wis said, finally popping up from whatever machine she was working at. “My girlfriend dognapped my dog. I can’t believe it. I’m really in the doghouse now. Ohhh nooo.”

Grace couldn’t help but laugh at the stupid look on Wis’s face as she made her way out to her and Nemo.

“Well, even if Nemo’s yours…” Wis murmured as she drew closer. “You’re still mine.”

Grace felt the gentlest peck on her cheek.

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

Grace,

Everything okay? It’s been a while since I heard from you. Work’s probably been super busy for you. Just give me a quick check up reply when you next get the chance. No biggie.

Wis

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

Grace,

Hey, not sure you saw my last letter… Sorry about this if you did. I’m just a bit antsier about getting a reply since your last letter. Hope you’re still okay.

Wis

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

Grace,

It’s been about a month now… I’m getting kind of worried now. I know field work is dangerous, so not getting anything from you has me wondering if you’re still alive… You don’t need to send an essay, just…a sign? Just a “hi”? Even a blank piece of paper in an envelope? Anything so I can at least make sure you’re still around.

Wis

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

Hey Wis,

I’m really sorry about the wait. I’m still alive and kicking, don’t you worry. Work’s just been exhausting still. I can’t really make the time to sit down and write. We’ve been looking into a whole slew of relics around the Alliance lately. Lots of data crunching. I’m still doing fine, I promise. Just reading your words is so comforting to me. But what’s new with you? I’m sure at this point, I probably won’t even be able to recognize Sandrock if I saw it! You guys are just so involved! Still a TBD on a return date…

Grace

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

You know, Grace…

Somehow I feel like it’s easier for me to tell when you’re being dishonest when it’s through writing. Dunno why. Maybe it’s because I can read it over again as much as I need to and take all the time I need to craft an answer.

You don’t need to sugarcoat things for me, okay? You never did back then. Why start now? I don’t know if it’s because you don’t want me to worry or you don’t want to talk about it, but I want to hear it. Whatever it is.

I hope that I’m not your only source of comfort right now, but if I am…then let me be that. I’ll be here for you as much as I can. I promise.

Wis

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

Grace sat at her desk, a blank sheet of paper in front of her, reading Wis’s letter over and over and over again. Wis wasn’t here. She was a hundred miles away.

So why could Grace feel her eyes boring straight into her head?

She stared at the blank page on the table. It almost felt like it was mocking her. Or maybe that was the sleep deprivation talking.

Grace groaned. She’d finally carved out a good hour to write back to Wis, and here she was with nothing to say. Why oh why did Wis always have to hit her hardest when Grace was weakest?

She really is good at this, a distant part of Grace’s mind hummed.

Grace put her head on the desk, cushioning it with her arms. She stared at the small desk clock nearby as her designated writing hour slowly tick, tick, ticked away…until it was over. And she had nothing to show for it.

She let out a sigh and got up, rubbing her eyes. Time for a shower. She felt filthy. Maybe she could handle this tomorrow…

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

Grace watched out the window as the train pulled to a stop. Good ol’ Sandrock. Same as ever, it seemed. Somehow, though, there was a different kind of energy to the place. Alive. Crackling with potential. She let the soaring feeling in her heart take hold. She could do that now. Let loose how she really felt. At that thought, she felt her pulse start to race. How she really felt…

As soon as the door opened, she bolted out and across the tracks. Fresh Pines was still lively as ever, machines churning away and generator humming. And of course, there was Wisteria, busy as ever. She was tending to the garden patch next to her front door, her back to Grace as she overturned the dirt. Looked like she had some new seeds coming in.

Grace felt her pulse thudding in her ears. She swallowed and put on a playful smile. “Hey.”

Wis looked up from her gardening, staring blankly at Grace over her shoulder.

Grace snorted. “Missed me, Wisty?”

Wis only continued to stare. Grace’s smile fell. She should’ve laughed or smiled or…something.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Grace’s stomach dropped. “Huh? Um…oh, are you doing a bit…? Heh heh, good one…” she laughed with a shaky smile.

Wis still didn’t react. “Who are you?”

“I’m–I–it’s…me. It’s Grace.” Icy fear ran through her veins.

Wis’s eyes bore into Grace’s. Why did they look so dull…?

“…Liar.”

She turned back to her digging.

Grace suddenly felt nauseous. She reached out for her, only to see her hands were trembling.

“Wis…Wisteria…I promise, it’s me. It’s really me! N-no more secrets this time, I’m done with—!” She let out a startled yelp. Just as she had gotten close enough to place a hand on Wis’s shoulder, she’d gotten too close to the front door. In the glass of the windowpane, her reflection stared back at her.

Or at least, what was left of it.

A blank face, framed with her blonde hair.

Liar.

A horrid stench filled Grace’s nostrils. She lurched as the nausea got worse. She knew that smell from anywhere. It was a corpse. But where?

Grace tore her eyes away from the glass and looked around. It wasn’t long before she found the source.

Right under Wis’s shovel.

A partially unearthed body.

With Grace’s face.

Decaying and decrepit.

Liar. Liar.

She suddenly heard sniffling. Her eyes darted up to Wis. She was shaking with quiet sobs, head against one arm leaning against the wall of the house, her other hand clutching her chest.

Grace felt her heart wrench. She tried to reach for Wis again. “Wisty…Wisty, no…I-I’m here, it’s okay, I—” Her throat suddenly closed up. As if something was choking her. She grabbed at her neck, trying desperately to free it. But it was in vain. Nothing was there.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Tears squeezed out of Grace’s eyes as she flailed about uselessly. She wanted Wisty’s tears to stop. She wanted to hold her until everything was okay. She wanted to spill everything that she kept sealed inside her for so, so long. She wanted her to know everything. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to feel known. She wanted—

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

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Grace jolted awake with a startled gasp. Her head was pounding. She slammed her hand down on her alarm clock.

Better. But not by much.

She reached a tentative hand up to her neck. Nothing was there.

She stared blankly at a spot on her blanket, trying to slow her breathing down. Swallowing, her eyes found the blank sheet of paper still on her desk, Wis’s letter sitting next to it.

She threw the blankets off and yanked out her desk chair. Her grip on the pen was tight enough to make her knuckles turn white. She forced the tip to the page. A spot of ink pooled under where it met the paper. She willed her hand to move.

Wisteria,

Her heart was pounding. What should she say? What was the best thing she could say? What could get her the info she needed in this scenario? How could she talk her way out of this? What did her handbook say? Remember your training, remember what they told you—

…

What do I really want to say…?

…

Wisteria,

I love you

There was a sharp knock at the door. A message slid under the crack.

Briefing at 1100

Grace’s mouth twisted into a grimace. The next mission. What a day to get all the details finally sorted. She flicked open her lighter to dispose of the message. As the slip burned to ashes, her mind wandered to the other paper sitting so innocently on her desk. She sighed. It was 1030. She’d have to finish it later.

After the last remnants of the paper were flicked away, Grace tucked the unfinished letter away between some books.

As she plodded to the briefing room along the barren hallways of HQ, she tried to push down the growing unease in her gut.

She couldn’t.

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

Mission objectives: Investigate increasingly suspicious activity in the Northern Eufaula region. Duvosian involvement suspected. Capture or eliminate any Duvosian spies or military entities. Oversee restabilization in the aftermath.

Risk: Potentially life-threatening.

Start date: Tomorrow, 1200 hours. Move to Northern Eufaula base. Await further orders.

Grace was back to staring at the page on her desk, uneasier than ever.

I love you.

She wanted to say it. She really, truly did. She wanted Wis to know. Even if she didn’t love her back. But now…

I love you.

Now she was dumping this new mission onto her, too. Her life was on the line. Whatever she wrote here could be her last words to her.

I love you.

Did she want her last words to be that big of a bombshell? Throw Wis into perpetual uncertainty while the mission happened? Not even sure if Grace was alive or dead?

I love you.

Make the grief even worse…?

Grace took a deep breath. The last thing she needed on a dangerous mission was knowing that Wis was worried for her. But either way, Wis would be worried. There was no way for Grace to reach her from out there. She couldn’t control that.

But she could control something else. So she was going to make a gambit. Gamble on Wis’s worry overtaking her reason for the briefest moment. Her eyes would gloss over the finer details. And Grace could veil the truth that she desperately wanted to share.

She tossed the old letter and got a fresh sheet.

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

Wisteria,

I’ve got my next assignment.

Let it be known that it’s a big one. Life’s on the line.

Orders are orders, though.

Very soon, I’ll be heading out.

Even if everything goes according to plan, it’s dicey.

You might be wondering if I can ever get back to Sandrock now.

Once this is over, I’ll do my best to get there. I’m not 100% confident, though.

Until then.

Grace

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

Grace.

Even when you tell me your deepest secrets, you still talk in riddles.

I love you too, alright?

Maybe it’s not my place to pry, and I know I can’t get all the details, but I still just…don’t understand you sometimes. You told me that you wanted a deeper connection that you couldn’t get on the job. That  kind of connection is made when you’re vulnerable with each other. You see each other at your weakest and your worst and you choose to keep pushing forward, side by side. In spite of everything. In spite of each other.

I’ve felt that with you sometimes. We’ve come so close to really being at the level you really wish for. When you talked to me about Cookie, I felt it. And so did you, I wager. But even so…you still want to keep a part of you sealed away.

Are you scared? Are you scared of me? Are you scared of yourself? I don’t know what else could be holding you back as much as you have.

I’m sorry if I’m being overbearing. Part of it’s because I’m worried. You’re the most capable and competent person I’ve ever met. But you’re still human, at the end of the day.

The other part of it is because I can see that this is something you want. More than archeology, more than the awards. More than anything.

You want to be you.

Really, truly you.

And I love you.

The real, true you.

Even the parts I have yet to see or learn about.

I have no idea if this’ll make it to you. You’ve probably already been out there for a while by the time I got your letter. But I wanted to get that off my chest. And to let you know that I’m still waiting for you here. All of us are (yes, even Qi. He’s just a dingus about it).

Stay safe. Please. I believe in you, even if you don’t.

And when you come back to Sandrock, we can talk. For real.

Love,

Wisteria

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

Wis opened up her mailbox. Only one thing in there today. She took it out, looking at the envelope to see…her own handwriting? And it was addressed to Grace…

Her heart froze.

Clutching the letter tightly, she ran off to find Jasmine. Fresh Pines was the last stop on the mail route, so she should be heading back to Construction Junction…

“Jazz! Hey, Jazz!” Wis called as she spotted Jasmine skipping after Macchiato, who probably caught wind of someone cooking something good. She stopped in her tracks and beamed up at Wis.

“Hey, Miss Wis! What’s up?”

“Jazz, do you know what happened to this letter?” Wis held out the letter in her hands, trying not to clench too hard and wrinkle it.

“Oh…” Jasmine hummed with a finger on her chin. “Yeah, the Atara Post Office said that there wasn’t anyone named Grace at that address. So they put the big ‘Return to Sender’ stamp on it.”

Wis suddenly felt a little dizzy. “Oh. I see…”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Jasmine exclaimed. “Miss Grace was real! We really knew her!”

“Yeah, w-we did…”

“Maybe she just changed her address? Forgot to tell all of us, though. Ma’s getting a little worried.”

“Mm-hmm…”

“But I’m sure she’ll tell us real soon, Miss Wis!” she shouted, loud enough to give Wis a jolt. “She’s still got our addresses, so she’ll probably write soon!”

Wis let out a chuckle. “You’re right. I hope so. Thanks, Jazz.”

“You’re welcome! See ya!” Jasmine replied, before running off to catch up with Macchiato.

Standing alone in the square, Wis sighed and looked down at the unsent letter. She remembered the night she wrote it, frustrated and exhausted. She’d tossed out at least 10 different versions before this one. Some were too angry. Others too self-pitying. Others too long-winded. Even now, she had doubts if this was really what she wanted to say.

Regardless, though, there was one sentiment she knew to be entirely true, no matter how she shouted or spat or sobbed it.

I love you too.

She sighed again and headed back home. She tucked the letter away on her desk under a large stack of other papers.

Then she headed out to start her workday. But all the while, her mind stirred, always coming back to one question:

Was it better or worse that it never reached her?

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

Atara Times

Northern Eufaula Espionage Plans Foiled! Duvos Spies Captured!

Some time ago, the Northern Eufaula Development Plan jumped into full swing, but not without its share of complications. In an incredible twist of events, an investigation by the Alliance Council uncovered that some of the problems were in fact part of a deliberate campaign of disruption.

Who is this dastardly foe? Well, let's ask one simple question. If the Northern Development Plan is to fail, who is to gain? None other than the Duvos Empire!

How did this happen? In order to counter the Duvos activities, Alliance Central Intelligence carried out Operation Weeding. This operation quickly and efficiently identified and eliminated the Duvos infiltration, and effectively restored order to the Northern Development Plan once again. Currently, the plan as already initiated three settlements across the Northern Eufaula, next to the Duvos border.

Unfortunately, three Alliance operatives' lives were lost in the process. The youngest of them was a young woman in her twenties. She had achieved outstanding military achievements throughout her career and had made a lasting impact on the safety of the Free Cities. We shall never know the names of these brave heroes, but we, all of us, owe them our safety.

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

There was a knock at the door.

Wis didn’t move.

The knocking came back.

“Wisty?” It was Heidi. “Everythin’...well, I don’t suppose anythin’s alright…”

Wis stared at a knot in the wood floor.

“I’m comin’ in, okay? Got some fresh grub from the Blue Moon…”

The door creaked open. Sunlight spilled in.

Wis pulled the blankets over her head.

“Wisty…”

…

“I, um… I asked Trudy if she could get any info, but the Alliance ain’t talkin’… as we’d expect from military types, I guess…”

…

“Uh, technically speakin’…there could’ve been a lot of twenty-somethin’ ladies out there. I don’t wanna jump to conclusions either way, of course, but still…”

…

“I’m still holdin’ out hope. But…I know it’s hard. I know how much you cared about her.”

A tear slipped out of Wis’s eye.

“…I still got your back, Wisty. No matter what.”

Wis choked on a sob. More and more tears flooded out of her eyes. She felt Heidi hug her from outside the blanket, whispering soothing words.

There in the dark, she shook. Left to choke on words that would never be heard. Left to cling to hope that she didn’t hold.

Left to feel a love too late to be received.

A/N: Thanks for reading! There'll be one last part after this.

And icymi, I posted a quick status update on Builder, Researcher, Rooftop, if you've been following that! (psst...it has some sneak peeks of act 2)

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[madmarchhare]

Company: Chapter 2

This is the sci-fi story. I've got work due soon so ill finish that then post a new chapter of Changes a Man hopefully. That or another story idea I have that I quite like.

Anyway, I hope you like it!

Warning, violence and sex and is the longest chapter I've posted for any of my stories so far. Like this is seven or eight thousand wards long. It took me all day.

II

Wick was leant back on his chair, dead to the world as he slept, one arm rested over his stomach, the other hanging down to the floor as he silently breathed out his exhaustion. It was in silent aggression to the flashing alert that shouted up at him from the console demanding his attention. But it was ignored, calling out its desperate wail in futility… Until Cass stormed her way into the cockpit with a thunderous expression on her face, smacking the shut off button with her fist as she went past. She looked down as the resting from of Wich, one of great peace and calm resembling almost the buddha. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him, snapping, “wake up!” next to his ear.

In response, Wick jerked-The hand resting on his stomach diving into his holster and whisking his pistol from it to press the barrel under Cass’s chin, groggily opening his eyes and yawning as Cass looked at him with a bored expression. He turned to look at her, rubbing one eye as he looked at her for a moment before yawning and casually removing the pistol from her chin placing it back into his holster.

“Mornin’,” he replied, stretching slightly his spine clacking as he did so making him sigh in relief. He leaned forward his chair following him as he did and flicked a switch on the panel ceasing the flashing alert.

“How you can sleep through that I will never know,” she replied, sliding herself into her chair as she opened a can of some sugar filled confection, the label shouting it’s name boldly out in a mix of maroon, black, white and orange. “The fact that you have bags under your eyes yet that won’t wake you astounds me,” she added, slurping from the can, before choking on it slightly.

“You’d be surprised what I can sleep through,” Wick replied, deadpan as he reached for the controls, the ship jerking slightly as he took them in hand.

“I don’t think I would be,” she replied matter-o-factly, taking a long swig of her drink now having become used to the taste, “so how far from the station are we?”

“’Bout half an hour, I wanted to stop outside the net. I don’t think this place would be any more accepting of the idea of an AI piloted craft coming towards their station than anyone else.” Cass nodding in agreement, staring at the wall opposite, or more likely a thousand yards beyond it. “Do you know where Alice might be then?” Wick asked, muttering out his question as he stared out the cockpit, darting his eyes between the screens.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure on where she’ll be, but lets leave that for when we get on the station,” Cass replied, swirling the can in her hand as she did, seemingly lost in thought. A trio of the Lauxes came into the cockpit shortly after that, running about and playing, occasionally coming up to Cass for attention, or watching Wick curiously. They left as they came close to the station, descending back into the ship, out of sight.

The station itself was on older style construction. Likely one built before they attempted to standardise the size and shape of new stations, that, or it was one of the many who built in flagrant disregard to the new regulations. But, the patina of age and wear would suggest the former argument. The main shape of the station was mostly spherelike but formed of layered plates around a trio of coulombs that ran through the whole structure, poking out on both the top and bottom. It sat suspended a within two hundred miles of a large meteorite, or a small planetoid depending on who you asked, covered with a great mess of ‘temporary’ structures and winding railways that led to ship docks. What they were mining was anyone’s guess, might even just be pure rocks to use for paint. The station docks were on the second largest ring on the lower hemisphere of the station, lit up by a pair of orange lights that struck out in the black flickering in uneven patterns as time cut at them. Wick pulled in close, feeling the dead glares of the gun batteries following him slowly as he came forward.

He brought his ship down, wincing as he listened to the creaking landing gear, Cass staring down at her game console again, not paying much mind to him. After he was sure they would hold, he breathed a sight of relief, letting his hands fall off of the controls as he stared up at the ceiling. He got up from his chair, the yellow ruin spinning around from the inertia, Cass placing her game back into one of the draws of her table before she rose.

“What’s the ammunition limit on this station?” Wick asked, walking into the living room, turning to Cass slightly.

“Nothing stronger than .380,” she replied, chucking her empty can into the bin on the wall. Wick gave a slightly put out noise of assent, pulling his pistol from it’s holster and putting it back on the wall, then re-uniting it’s holster on the wall as well. He searched the wall for a while before lifting a Dreyse 1907 from the wall, pulling a few spare magazines from a chest of draws welded to the wall below them.

“Could you get my wallet from my bedroom Cass?” Wick asked, pressing in .32 ACP cartridges into the magazines, the pistol stuffed into his jacket pocket for the moment, the grip poking out the top.

“Sure,” she called back, walking down towards Wick’s room.

“I’ve memorised how much there was in it, so if you take any I’ll count it as a loan,” he added, slipping the magazines into  the inside of his coat, before slotting one in his pistol and moving the weapon into his inside jacket pocket.

“You wound me Wick!” she called back in mock indignation, walking back into the living room and tossing Wick his wallet a worn white leather rectangle that he tucked into the other pocket of his jacket. “Though I appreciate the offer, I have my own money! I don’t need a loan,” she finished proudly, tipping up her chin, a smirk pulled across her face.

“You mean the money you likely left on your ship?” Wick replied, making her stiffen slightly, lowering her head in thought.

“Oh right, yeah…” she muttered out slowly, turning away to look at the door in silence. “Hey Wick?” She began slyly, slowly turning her head to him as he faced away from her.

“Take forty,” Wick replied blankly, tossing the wallet back to her as he began to make his way past her to the air lock.

“Thank you,” she replied in a sing song voice, fishing out a quartet of notes and stuffing them into a pocket on her flak jacket, then handing Wick back his wallet as she met him in the airlock. In there he saw him setting up a tripod mount near the door, giving him a confused expression as he worked. “What are you doing?” she asked, standing to the side of him.

He placed a SxS shotgun into the mount then turned to her with a deadpan expression, “anti-theft device.” She looked down at him for a moment, with a disbelieving expression her mouth hanging open slightly. Wick rose back up, then turned to her and brusquely asking, “ is it doubles or triples on this station?”

                “Doubles, the union manager thinks triples are bad luck. Something to do with Delta.” Cass replied quickly, stretching her arms. Wick nodded, pressing down a spring latch by the door then opening it, forcing it open then kicking down a folded set of stairs. Cass went down first, Wick having to close the door behind them then joined her on the bay floor, pushing the short set of stairs back up with the toe of his boot.

                A clerk came over to them, his boots clacking as he did. He was a thin man, young with a wispy ginger beard, if it could be called that, and cropped hair. He was dressed in a cherry red jumpsuit that was somewhere between filthy and spotless, tending to the latter. He looked at them with a tired face as he approached, throwing his arms high as he marched over to them.

“seventy for days’ docking rights,” he blurted out in an exhausted sort of voice. Wick placed a hundred and forty into his outstretched palm and the man seemed to instantly warm to him, giving a sly smile to him. Both Cass and Wick nodded to him and strode forward.

But, as Wick passed him, he leaned in close to the clerk, “oh, and don’t do any cargo inspections, I’ve already got the defences on.” The clerk nodded with a light chuckle.

“Don’t worry, that’s included. Have a nice stay at St Edmunds!” He replied, jerking from a whisper to a benevolent call as he strode through the rest of the dock, shoving the extra seventy into his inside pocket. Of course letting Wick see the expected palm pistol hidden under his wrist as he did so. They strode through the dock, their steps clunking on the worn steel floor, the sound petering out in the massive space before it could echo, until they approached the back wall of the bay. It was painted in a thin varnish of gunmetal grey with a great emblem in stained white paint, illuminated by dim or flickering floodlights: ‘ST. EDMUND STATION’. The airlock hissed open as they approached, the massive steels doors pulling back into the frame revealing the inside of the station.

On earth, there were places in deserts that, surrounded by desolation and difficulty, sat in beautiful and flagrant juxtaposition of it. An Oasis. That is the only way to describe a station, set against the beautiful yet deadly expanse of the heavens. The walls were lined with apartment buildings, shops and markets, catwalks, lights and wires crisscrossed overhead like spiderwebs doused in oil while pipes tangled over each other like ancient roots underfoot. Carrying what, who knew? People flowed and stagnated around them, their various clothes washing out the crowd into a kaleidoscope of colours.

“Which floor were you and Alice based at then?” Wick asked, turning to Cass slightly as they continued down the street, only half watching where they were going.

“The level above this one, lighter security on that one. Though, really security lights all over really, ‘s why we liked it,” she replied jovially, chuckling slightly. Wick gave a note of agreement and kept walking, aiming for one of the stairs that would take them up to the next floor, following Cass more than anything.

Then Wick bumped into a rather large man, more so in his width than his height, and the latter whirled around at him. “Oi, what the fuck do you think your doing?!” He snapped out in cockney sort of accent, getting slightly perplexed looks from the pair.

“What do you mean?” Wick asked boredly, raising an eyebrow at the man.

“You bumped into me to rob me didn’t you!” he blurted at them, jabbing a fat finger at the pair.

“If we were trying to rob you, you wouldn’t have noticed,” Cass replied matter-o-factly.

“Oh really?” he asked in an angry tone.

“Well, yeah,” Cass replied, suddenly flipping a wallet from her palm and pinching it between two of her fingers as Wick let a knockoff gold watch dangle from his grip. The man stared at them with a surprised expression, then scurried to check himself, noticing both object were missing. Wick and Cass tossed them to him, which he scrambled to catch, having to cradle the items in his arms. “well, see you!” Cass called back as they walked away. He took on a furious expression for a moment until he saw Wick giving him a backhanded wave, his pistol held in the waving hand. He looked out at them  with a  bewildered expression for a moment, until he realised that it wasn’t worth the trouble and continued on his way.

They took the west stairs up to the next floor, the concrete stairs covered in graffiti, a tired janitor mopping up some unknown spill while a teen tagged the wall behind him, getting a judging gaze from him, like one a connoisseur would give if he was given hard tac. It was lit by dim orange lights, occasionally snapping the shaft into darkness when they flickered. It was about seven stories high, punctuated with the odd orange door that led into the service corridors, a mechanic steeping out of one near the top of the stairs and stropping past the pair back down the stairs, his head hidden under a red safety helmet.

The level ahead wasn’t as tall as the one below, lit with dim orange lights from the sides of the roads, assisted by the various lit storefronts, flashing strip club lights and signs and glowing vending machines. People strolled about, but the crowd was much thinner clustered into small pockets around various buildings, or traveling in their cliques.

“Our, well, her apartment is a bit away from here. Follow me, and watch your way here,” she stated, turning to Wick with a serious expression.

“Alright,” he replied, glancing to the side to peer into one of the shops they passed, a butcher shop lit in a sickly grey light. They drew the occasional glance as they advanced forward, mostly from curious vagabonds, ladies of the night and street walkers or the laughing remarks of a clique of teens. The whole place mas a maelstrom of odd scents and sights, from acrid and bitter to sweet and intoxicating wedged into the streets of pre-fab apartments and steel streets. Filled with people quite content to live freely above all other things. Though, whether that was good or not was subject to interpretation and situation. They made it to Alice’s apartment after about half an hour, the station lights dimming out by that time.

It was a five story building, squashed up against a thin building wearing a flickering purple sign reading ‘Tabaco’ under a small window, with an alley way on the opposite side across the street from a bar and an abandoned building. “What’s the plan then?” Wick asked, turning down to Cass.

“Her apartment has a balcony with a ladder that leads down into the alley. You wait down here until you see her enter the building: then you take the ladder up to the balcony. Come in when I give you the signal. And have your pistol ready,” she finished, lifting up one leg then pulling something from a compartment in the heel of her boot and handing it to Wick, “here is the key.”

“Which floor is she on? And what’s the signal?” He asked, taking the key and shoving it in the pocket of his trousers.

“Third floor, and it’s just whenever you think it would make the coolest entrance when I start talking to her,” she replied, flashing an exited smile. Wick nodded, a flicker of a smile appearing on his face before it fell back into it’s usual state. They walked over into the alley by the building, lit only by a half-abandoned vending machine stuck in it next to a broken old bench, the door of the building was a pair of plywood slabs covered in ancient woods stain and a pair of frosted windows in each of them. Well, whether they were frosted or just filthy wasn’t clear.

“How will I know it’s her?” he asked as she walked over to the entrance, glancing into the street as she did.

“You’ll know. No one else lives here after all,” she added cheerily, then ducked into the entrance. Wick nodded then walked back into the alley, upturning an oil drum to sit on. He waited for a while, then felt his eyes start to drift to the vending machine to his side. He got up and walked over to the glowing wreck to leer at its contents. It was mostly empty, filled with various cans of alcohol and liqueurs, the ancient cans of beer, vodka and rum dusty in their slots. The only ones that looked like they had been recently stocked was a trio of rails holding cans of IPA. They were green, fitting called ‘Greene King’ IPA, Indian Pale Ale for those uninitiated. It was 2.50 a can so it seemed good enough. He entered in the code, the associated buttons the most worn on the pad and put in the money the machine plopping out the drink for its part.  

                He walked back over to his barrel and sat back down, pulling open the can which gave an alert hiss in response. It tasted nice, honestly, he would probably try and find a pack of them to take back. That or ask Cass if she had any. Ale for help in revenge seemed like a good trade. He watched the street while he waited, sipping from his can. The bar across from him was this two-storey building, with an odd sort of sign featuring a large can of what looked like frying oil and the name of the place lit up in gold and silver neon: ‘The Crisco Frisco’. There were two bouncers slowly letting the long line filter into the building, occasionally parsing out a few who didn’t make the cut. One was a large bi-pedal wolf-fox-dragon thing? Likely someone who had some surgeries done. They were an odd lot them, most were quite decent but you had a few… outliers… though I suppose that’s true of everybody. It’s just more noticeable when there are less of you over all. The other bouncer was a rather tall woman with a bob cut dyed black and white in stripes, with cauliflower ears and toned arms and legs, dressed in a jean jacket and white pressed trousers. The line was filled with an assortment of people, mostly men, though there were a few women in the line. Some were dressed in hoodies, dresses, jackets… some more private clothes among other things, all shouting proudly and jollily as if they were drunk before they even got in.

He waited for three quarters of an hour, no one going near the building, let along coming inside. He occasionally got a look from one or two passers-by but none did more than that. Then he noticed someone start to come closer to the building. He kept back in the alley, just catching the figure of the woman as she came closer. A tall red-headed woman, the hair left at shoulder length then cut straight, but into small sections and layered with and angled fringe that hung over her brow and one eye, dressed in a red jacket and black trousers and maroon baseball boots. Wick kept himself behind the wall of building, in the alley listening out until he heard her open the door. As she did he downed what was left of his can and then dropped it on the ground, walking over to the winding fire escape and begging to climb up, trying to be as quiet as possible on the creaking ladders. When he got to the door of the balcony, he pulled himself close to the plain doors, pulling out the key and his pistol.

He put his ear to the door, listening in for a conversation. It was silent until he heard the door clack open, someone walking in then throwing a bag to the ground then begin to close the door only for it seem to impact with something and be forced back open.

“Hello Alice,” Cass’s voice said calmly, bleeding through the thin doors.

“Cass,” another voice replied, Alice’s most likely, it was level though with a note of panic, “why are you here?” she asked, seeming to force her voice to be calm.

“I feel the question you want to ask is ‘how’ I am here. You know, after you stole my ship.” Cass replied in a jolly sort of tone, anger dousing it like petrol.

“I didn’t steal it! I just had to come back here for some supplies,” she pleaded, almost matter-o-factly.

“Really, you don’t look like you’ve been buying supplies. Besides, why would you leave me behind in any case?” Cass replied critically, the sound of the door shutting punctuating the sentence. Alice was silent for a moment, then gave an exhausted sort of sigh.

“Fine. Yeah I stole your ship, but what are going to do about it? Come to kill me for leaving you? You’re unarmed! Whereas I…” Alice replied cockily, letting her sentence trial off. Wick put the key in the lock and quietly opened the door as they were both quiet.

“Yeah,” Cass replied in jovial sort of note, “I don’t have anything on me, but-”

“That’s where I come in,” Wick finished, now stood behind Alice with his pistol at his side making the woman turn around surprised, panic setting in slightly on her face. She had ebony coloured skin, with freckles speckling her cheeks a white tattoo resembling the tail of an Egyptian eye coming down from under her eye on the uncovered side of her face. She was wearing a white t-shirt under her jacket with picture of the London eye on it, leaving her stomach exposed, a pistol tucked into a barebones holster just in front of a ruby red belt buckle.

“Good entrance,” Cass stated impressed. Wick nodded, a sile on his lips, if only for a moment. Cass then turned back to Alice, a smirk on her snake-like lips, “Alice, meet Wick and old friend of mine, I think I told you about him before.”

“Yes, you have,” Alice replied begrudgingly giving a frustrated look to Wick, or more precisely his pistol. Cass gave a quick chuckle, smiling like a Cheshire cat at her.

“Now,” pacing in front of Alice as she spoke, “I think you should help me back to my ship, and return anything you took from it.” She stated firmly, though unable to hide her pride, then after a moment added, “and that watch I bought for you.” Spinning on her heel as she did.

“I can’t do that,” Alice replied tiredly.

Cass spun around to face her, “I don’t think you understand the situation. You are at gun point, what you want to do is not really a topic for discussion.”

Alice looked at her irritably, growling under her breath, “I can’t take you to your dam ship because I sold it!” Cass stopped at that turning around to her with a slightly perplexed expression, not having expected the answer.

“Ah, yes. That would make it hard,” she replied, pressing a claw to her chin as she pondered to herself for a moment, “then, how about you give us the money you got for it, and then we’ll be on our way!” She called out proudly, throwing her arms up in celebration before adding, “seems a fair price for leaving me for dead, don’t you think?”

Alice stared at the pair for a moment, an agitated look on her face, flicking her eye between Wick and Cass, and onto the barrel of Wick’s pistol. Then she suddenly flung a hand to her holster as he twisted herself towards Wick charging at him. But before she could get her pistol up Wick fired twice into her chest, one going straight through the centre of the wheel on her shirt, making her fall back gasping.

Both Wick and Cass walked over to her body, still gasping for air, clutching for her pistol until Cass picked it up, looking down at her blankly as her life escaped her lips as she squinted her eyes shut. “Shame, I always told her this would happen if she wasn’t careful,” she said sadly, squatting down to look at her, “you’ll never get blood out of a white shirt.” Looking at her top, slowly being stained with her blood, then reaching down to her wrist and lifting the watch off it.

“Well, red is a good colour on her too,” Wick added, flicking the safety on for his pistol then going over to the fridge in the wall, opening it to find a six pack of ‘Greene King’ IPA. “Ah, here we are,” he called out grandly, pulling out the six pack and setting it on the counter, “can I have these?”

Cass looked up at him, “sure, they were Alice’s. Pass me one though.” He pulled out a pair and tossed one to Cass which she caught.

“To our health,” he called out slyly, then looking down at Alice with his usual frown, “well, not yours I suppose… Thanks for the ale though,” drinking deeply from the can as he stepped over her head.

“You always were a hot head,” Cass mumbled to herself looking down at Alice then placing a hand on her face, “though I suppose that’s why I fancied you… Well, anyway, let’s get to looting! Wick take her jacket, it’s real leather! Same for her belt!” She called, striding over to the bedroom where she knew the safe was. Wick looked at her leave with a questioning expression then looked back down at Alice and shrugged. He pulled off the jacket, pocketing some of the silver and ivory bangles on her wrists then undid her belt and pulled it from the loops, having to lift her up slightly to free it. He looked around the room for something to dump them in then saw a large paper shopping bag and dumped them in there, noticing her hand bag as well, flicking through it to pull out the money and the ID cards snapping each of latter in half then dumping them down the waste disposal. He left the hand bag next to her then plopped himself down on the sofa to drink the rest of his ale.

Cass came back in after a while, her holster back on her hip with her pistol, one Wick hadn’t seen her with before. She was thumbing through the notes and then parsed off a bundle and handed it to Wick. “Here is the forty I owe,” flopping down onto the sofa next to him and opening her can, taking a long draft from it.

“What about for the ride?” Wick asked sarcastically, fluttering the notes under his finger then stuffing them into his wallet.

“That’s what the coat is for,” Cass replied cheekily and Wick gave a small nod a small smile falling on his face

“Is it now? Well, that’s fair enough,” leaning back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, “what are you going to do about your ship then?” he asked tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“If she’s got the money for it, it’s probably already long gone. So, best bet is to but a new ship on a different station.”

“Not here?” Wick asked in a deadpan tone.

“No, no one really sells ships here, and if they do they are either overpriced to shit or just an expensive form of assisted suicide. No, I’ll just try at a different station,” she finished matter of factly, reaching a hand over to a bowl beside the sofa and chucking something form it into her mouth.

“And how will you get to this other station?” Wick asked critically, turning to her with a tired expression. She turned to him with a sly expression, smiling slightly  as she steepled her hands together. Wick glared at her for a moment before sighing.

“Fine,” draining down the last of his ale as Cass chortled to herself slightly, “but buy me some more pack of this stuff,” shaking the empty can as he spoke, “as payment.”

“Fair enough, do you want some more of those mints as well? You know, the Strebor ones?” Cass asked, tossing in another thing from the bowl, seemingly caramelised insects. Wick was silent for a couple of seconds, seemingly mulling it over.

“Yeah, and some tobacco as well, preferably Golden Virginia,” he mumbled, pulling himself up from the sofa and grabbing the bag, “anyway, lets go now. It’s never a good look to be drinking next to a corpse. You lock the front door and we’ll go down the fire escape.”

“Yes’sir!” Cass called out, jumping up from the sofa, pouring what was left in the bowl into her mouth then walking over to the door as Wick went to the other side of the apartment, suddenly hearing her shout and turning his head over to her slightly, “who the hell puts a marble in a snack bowl?” she called out, making Wick roll his eyes. They both went down the fire escape back into the alley, and started their way back. They took a slight detour on Cass’s advice, as she knew a good place to buy the mints and tabaco. Just as they were going through a violet lit alley they heard a voice beside them.

“Hello sir and madam,” a seedy voice piped up making the pair turn to it seeing a shortish Korean man dressed in a white Nehru jacket and pressed white trousers, and a pair of white plimsols. His face was pressed into an unnerving smile his black hair pomaded into a ruffled parting as he hunched down to them slightly with one hand outstretched, the other pressed behind his back. “Would either of you like to come with me for a moment?” he asked, forcing his smile even wider.

“Sorry, not interested,” Wick replied, Cass nodding slightly. The man’s smile loosened slightly as he let out a sigh.

“Ahh, guess I should have been clearer,” pulling his hand out from behind his back revealing a scorpion machine pistol which he pointed directly at the pair, making them stiffen slightly, “that wasn’t a request.” The smile fell from his face, which shifted into a sour expression as if he was looking down at a bowl of maggots. “You two have stepped somewhere you don’t belong: So, now you are going to take me to your ship, and we are blast this whole thing out,” rattling his pistol as he finished, “figuratively, if you behave…” he trailed off, his voice darkening. The pair flicked their eyes down to the pistol in his hand, then briefly down to their own, “don’t try it.” he stated calmly. They both flicked their eyes at the other and turned, now making their way back to Wick’s ship.

They were marched through the street, Wick shoving his hands into his pockets as he went, slouching as he went, Cass walking as confident as usual, though more out of habit that a proper display. A few people turned to look at them as they went, fixing them with curious or humoured looks until they got bored of it, or decided it wasn’t worth the trouble of watching. A station guard walked past them, pulling a prostitute close to him as he walked, his hand on her hip as she gripped his shoulder with a sultry look. He gave a cursory glance at the trio, a bored look on his face even as he looked at the pistol then turned back to his woman, continuing on with their dirty talk.

They went down the stairs to the dock level, the janitor and teen replaced by a pair of, likely, homeless boys fucking in the stair well underneath a graffiti of the illuminati, completely oblivious to the world around them, one dressed in a ratty crotch high jacket, the other in a threadbare woollen jumper and a long skirt hanging around his ankles, the former’s trousers about his thighs. The dock level was dimmed down like Alice’s floor, though just as busy as before, carts filled with rocks whizzing up the street on rails, empty ones coming down it. A few people offered tributary concerned looks at the sights of the short man’s gun, then quickly scurried off to work or to leisure.

“What did we do to fuck you off then?” Cass asked as they walked, coming close to the doors of the docking bay.

“You don’t need to know, and really, your survival depends on how well you can forget…” he replied a sour tone, letting the pair fill in the blanks of his response themselves. When they got to the door for the dock the clerk gave the third man a suspicious look, reaching for his carbine an M4 in an orange camo wrap. But, the man just gave him a hard look, flashing a forced smile, then the clerk slackened slightly, turning back to look out to the street, seemingly chewing on something. They went through the bay, getting the same examining glances from clerks that were promptly abandoned until they got to Wick’s ship.

“You,” gesturing the barrel of his pistol to Wick, “open the airlock.” Wick looked at him with a surprised expression.

“Sure, alright,” seeming to hurry for the door.

Just as he came up to it, the man called out to him again, “actually, you get back over here, I’ll open it,” Wick came away from the door, as the other one walked back up to it. He passed his pistol into his left hand, “I would advise against tricks, they’ll do you more harm than good,” he stated calmly, throwing aside the airlock door.

And just as he did, you could hear the loud boom as two rounds of buckshot slammed into his chest slammed into his chest, throwing him backwards onto the floor of the dock. Cass started down at him with a stunned expression, then turned up to Wick who wore his usual deadpan expression, though with a note of pride clear on his face as he strode over to the airlock and removed the SxS shotgun from the mount, breaking it open and pulling out the spent cartridges, then pulling a new pair from a compartment in the wall and shoving them into the breeches, locking it back up as he strode over to the man.

He was splayed out on the floor, wheezing as he tried to suck in breath just as the wound on his chest did the same. He glowered at Wick, abject fury branded in his expression. “You mother fffucker! You have no idea who you’ve just fucked with! You won’t ever be able to get away from this, from us! We’ll hunt you till you die, and then we’ll follow your rat ass over the river Stix!” he roared out, gasping for air as the blood dried from his face.

“Great, and could your try not to move too much? I’m trying to just get your neck: I had a friend who worked in the morgue before, and ID-ing without a face was always such a pain so I try to make it easy on them,” Wick replied, shouldering the shotgun as he aimed it down at the man’s throat, standing to his side.

The man looked up at Wick with a bewildered expression, shaking his head slightly, “you're insane.”

“And?” Wick stated, firing a shot of 12 gauge buckshot into his neck, practically severing it, making the man’s body give one last jerk then fall still. Wick lowered the shotgun from his shoulder, gripping it loosely in his hands, looking down at the man with his usual bored expression. He turned to Cass who was looking at him with a somewhat surprised expression, but also slightly impressed. “I think it would be a good idea to go now.”

“Oh, yeah,” Cass replied energetically, hopping into the airlock and running deeper into the craft, grabbing the bag Wick had dropped. Wick looked back down at the body, pulling out a scrap of card from a pocket then checking the man’s pockets for a pen, finding a felt tip. He opened it and wrote, in large block capitals ‘sorry’ took forty out from his wallet and placed it all in a pile on his chest, then took his pistol as he walked back over to his ship.

@agarespicero @gaap-goemon-ismylife @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @shark-smuggler @shax-lied @irumeanie

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[tonberryslantern]

Vita Enim Mortuorum: Prologue

When You Can, Come Follow Me

The man was tall and handsome with an easy smile that made Celesa's heart jump in her chest.  She could hear the combat going on beyond the walls, and Miss Castellus had led the younger kids into the Bastion to keep them safe, but Celesa was fourteen, which made her practically an adult, so she'd hidden so she could get a look at the blasphemies, but this man had found her peeking her head around the corner of the greenhouse.

"Hello," he said, and it was the most innocuous thing that Celesa had ever heard.  Most adults in this situation wouldn't hesitate to start screaming at her and drag her away, but this man almost seemed in on the adventure.

"Hello," she said back.  She couldn't figure out why, but he just seemed so… Safe.  Everything about him said that he was where he was supposed to be and absolutely nothing was wrong. Even with the screaming and the roar of the guns on the defense towers he was looking only at her and she could not stop looking at him.

He was pureblooded and well dressed, much better dressed than anyone else in this half built little town.  He reminded her of the kinds of people who walked around the nice parts of the city, back when there were nice parts, and bought things in the expensive shops.  And there wasn't a speck of dust on him.  "My name is Cicero," he said.  "What's yours?"

"Celesa," she replied.  "Celesa bas Fulgentius."  Why was this conversation so normal?  And how was he making it feel normal?

"It's nice to meet you, Celesa.  Are your parents around?"

She swallowed.  it was the question she always got asked, and the one she hated the most.  "No."  it was all she said, but it was all the man needed to understand.  His smile became sad, his eyes comforting instead of inquisitive.

"I'm very sorry.  It's been rather rough, hasn't it?  For everyone, I mean."  he looked up, finally acknowledging the battle going on.  Above them Miss Lee's ship was fighting some kind of horrible thing that looked like an orange had been left out for years and all the rot and mold had made it come alive.

Suddenly Celesa didn't want to see the blasphemies anymore.  "I should go," she said and started to head towards the bastion where Max had taken all the babies, but the man's next words stopped her.

"You should.  This place isn't safe.  Nowhere is anymore.  Especially not out here in the cold the monsters can see you for miles and miles."

"Miss N keeps us safe," she said.  "She has a magic barrier that stops us from turning into blasphemies.  And there's a cloaking field that keeps us hidden.  This is the safest place."

"And yet, look around."  He gestured upwards.  Miss Lee's ship had been grabbed by the orange thing and it was trying to rip through the armor with its tentacles.  She could see Mr. Basile flying towards it, but she didn't know if he could make it on time.  "I have a better idea," he said, pointing across the square to the big glowing aetheryte.  "What if instead of making you safe I could make you strong?"

Celesa didn't know how the aetheryte worked, and she couldn't use it anyway.  Only the magic people could use it and she didn't have any.  "Strong?"  Was strength enough?  "What do you mean strong?"

"Strong enough," he said, "To come back here and save everyone.  You see, I have a place that I built a long time ago.  I built it to make girls like you strong.  The strongest in the world."

Mr. Basile tore the blasphemy off of the ship with his gunblade, but it grabbed him and they both fell from the sky.  The roar of the tower gun stopped and Mr. Pollux was screaming for more ammunition.  Something hit the town walls so hard they shook.  Miss Rhua was punching on control screen.  She looked even worse than usual, sweating and pale and scared.  Seeing her scared made Celesa's knees shake.

"I can't use the crystal," she said.  If this kept up then the monsters would break down the walls.  They'd rip open the doors to the Bastion and… And nowhere was safe.

"I have a way around that, just run over and touch it.  Touch it and I'll do the rest.  Then you can come back and save everyone."

The walls shook again and her legs moved before she made a decision.   She ran.  She ran harder than she'd ever even thought of running, and the man kept pace.  "Come on, Celesa.  Just a little further.  Just a little bit further, you can do it."  Her hand touched the freezing surface of the spinning blue crystal, and something like electricity jolted through her body.

Before she could scream she was gone into a roaring current of blue and white.  She couldn't feel any part of ehr body.  Everything was speed and chaos and horror, but the man's voice was there, deep and reassuring, guiding her someplace dark and cool.  "Good girl, Celesa.  You're going to be a hero."