#ehh not really but its ADJACENT

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Seasonal Event - The GRIM REAPER CIRCUS: Episode 5

Izumi: Thank you for driving us, Tasuku-san!

Tasuku: Sure.

Citron: Ohh~! So this is where the escape game play will take place!?

Muku: Woah… It’s like it’s out of a fairy tale!

Omi: It really does look like something out of this world, and it seems like a good location for filming. I’d like to use it for work if I get a chance to.

Citron: It’s got a rather creepy atmosphere, but that’s just another taste~

Chikage: I did some research on the Internet before coming here, there were some posts that said supernatural phenomena occurred here.

Muku: Ehh!? S-S-S-S-Supernatural phenomena!?

Omi: It’s probably just a rumor. No wonder it exists, considering the atmosphere this place’s got going on.

Tsumugi: …

Chikage: What’s wrong, Tsumugi?

Tsumugi: No… I said I’ve been here before, but that was back in kindergarten.

Tsumugi: I feel like I recognize the inside of the amusement park, but my memory of it isn’t that clear after all.

Tasuku: You don’t get to talk about others, if that’s all you remember.

Tsumugi: I’m still better than you, I think. You don’t even remember coming here.

Chikage: You two are as chummy as always.

Director: Hello, hello, hello, everyone! Welcome!

Director: Thank you so much for accepting this offer! I’m very, very grateful!

Izumi: We are also very grateful for your request. We’re happy to be here.

Director: I’m happy to have you!

Director: Ah, Citron-kun! Thanks for coming!

Citron: Director~! It’s been a while~! Let’s hug to celebrate our reunion!

Director: Yes! I’m really happy to be working on this project with you! Let’s do our best together!

Tasuku: … The director’s tension is much higher than I expected it to be.

Omi: It’s no wonder he and Citron hit it off.

Director:  Come, come. Let me show you around. Get set and let’s go!

-

Izumi: It’s a really large amusement park.

Director: There used to be a tennis court and a hotel on the adjacent property, though they no longer exist.

Director: When it first opened, this park was a very popular attraction where you could enjoy many places other than the attractions that were offered.

Chikage: I see.

Director: Amongst those, the most popular was the circus!

Director: This striking circus tent has been a symbol for the amusement park since back then.

Director: But as our visitors gradually decreased, I was worried about what I’d do if I was forced to shut down the amusement park…

Director: Hoping to make the amusement park as lively as it was back in the day, I’ve started offering tours around its abandoned premises.

Director: Thanks to that, there have been more people visiting.

Director: Seeing the park regain its life has made me want to make it even more exciting…

Director: So I started up a project that combined my hobby, escape games, and the circus, and here we are now.

Citron: How brilliant! Your business spirit is impressive~!

Izumi: But, you know, that sort of feeling is important.

Director: I’m sure it was fate that made sure I got to meet Citron-kun, who is a member of a theater company, at a time like this!

Director: Ahh, I’m grateful for this meeting from the bottom of my heart!

Citron: I’m also happy to have met you!

Izumi: (Ahaha, their tension really is off the charts. But they’re both having fun, so I guess it’s alright.)

Director: Well then, now I’ll show you the inside of the circus tent. Come take a look.

???: …

Tsumugi: ?

Tsumugi: (I think I saw someone’s figure over there just now��)

Clown: …

Tsumugi: Huh?

Omi: Why did you stop, Tsumugi-san? Did something happen?

Tsumugi: Ah, no. … There’s a clown over there. Was it a visitor? Or maybe a member of the staff?

Director: Eh? No, we don’t have any tours planned today.

Director: There are no visitors aside from you, and if it was staff, I’m sure they wouldn’t be dressed as a clown…

Tsumugi: But, I’m sure–

Tsumugi: (Eh, it should’ve been around here somewhere…)

Tasuku: Must be your imagination.

Tsumugi: I don’t think so…

Tasuku: C’mon, let’s get going already.

Tsumugi: Okay…

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

NOTES

(1) the amusement park's director is simply called 園長 (enchou), which is the head/principal/director of various kinds of establishments (japandict), i went with director because i think that fits best with an amusement park

[dc-polls]

I saw some tags on the poll about polls, and pushed myself to think of a few more that aren't specifically character based. It's hard though! I thought of a few but can't really get my mind away from characters, especially since for me personally that's one of the big appeals of comics.

Favorite arc - pretty straightforward and could be a good way to expose each other to things we havent read.

Coolest fanwork - I probably wouldn't do this bc as much as I love the idea of nominating someone for something they've worked on and seeing them excited that they won, I really dont like the idea of there being losers and feeling not good enough. Of course nothing would go in without permission but ehh I don't think a poll bracket is the right format for this one.

Most questionable pose - official art only so we are looking at professional work. Could be bad sexy anatomy, funny pose of someone's butt in the air for no reason, etc. But would have to come with a big disclaimer that everyone even professionals are at different skill levels as artists. I keep trying to think of an art related poll that will work bc it's like a Big part of comics, but I still have misgivings.

Freaky friday - alright this actually is a character poll but not just a who's your fav. People submit characters and then I randomly pair them to swap bodies, and we vote on who would fair best. Id hope it would get zany.

Whose power would you rather have - not quite a blorbo poll but adjacent? Personally I have been trying in all my tournament ideas to avoid a situation where the most popular character wins, either by making the poll not about popularity/best-ness (without an interesting twist), or making the poll not about individual characters. Its hard. But this one would engage people on a more personal level bc their own preferences are going to be unique from person to person. It's not a judgment call of which character is "better" or fits some definition most, but rather who would you specifically want to be. And maybe it'd strike up convo about what y'all would do with that power.

The thing I really am aiming for with these polls is to generate more interaction in the community (actually let me add that the pinned post). My favorite part of being a fan is finding other people and laughing and having fun about a thing we all enjoy. Comics are such a special medium bc there's SO much content and it's so varied. And this tournament fad (yes, that's what it is) is just one way of many to explore that and to achieve this goal. So I'm trying to see what the possibilities are and what will work/what won't while i can before the craze passes.

(edit bc I keep thinking of more.. how about worst/stupidest character death? Biggest missed opportunity? Or something silly like best entrance or sickest burn. Oh or what if the scenario changed every round like it was an adventure that the characters were on?)

[iconicshrub]

a very weird experimental james clark ross for all your james clark ross needs

[b4kuch1n]

Thank you for the trans piers content. It’s only been posted a short while but it’s been on my mind a lot. Idk why trans piers is so important to me but it is and I just wanted to thank you for the content. Very good stuff.

I’m glad it’s been good to you! for some reasons I don’t do as much piers stuff as I want to, but trans!piers is also frequently on my mind haha... 

[cutegirlmayra]

*Slurps on ice coffee* ey yo Mayra what's cracking? I need some good ole fashioned protective Sonic of Amy I̶'̶m̶ ̶b̶a̶s̶i̶c̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶I̶ ̶l̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ . Maybe something like the press or newspaper attack Amy's character which upset her and Sonic defends or tries to comfort her? That'd be great thanks *Puts on shades and skateboards away*

What up, homie? How’s the skate? Don’t get home to late, my man, you know how these streets be at night. OUR TOWN. That’s what’s up! -slaps hand into yours and does a bro-hold-

You can see my response and thinking for this on the Pajama Blogs! (x) Timecode: 28:12

Referencing my fanfiction: Trying to ‘Tap’ into Love

PROMPT REQUESTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN, DO NOT SEND ANY TO ME, please and thank you ;3c

Prompt:

It was a pretty late night. I hadn’t seen Amy so upset before.

Usually, in the past, it wasn’t uncommon for Amy to come rushing to me--arms flung out and moving like a speed train with tears that sprawled into sparkling stars against the sky.

I always, usually, kinda-sorta, caught her and just let her cry it out with an awkward smile to my face.

But this time... Amy wanted to be alone.

That was weird. I first heard about it from Tails, who said that she had been reading some articles about the team and how they’ve said some pretty critiquing things about her... I’ve never really dealt with anything like that.

Joking, completely, I’ve totally had my fair share. But what about Amy? I always figured... well, she came off as pretty independently confident all on her own. I didn’t think she cared that much about what everyone thought of her.

So I was a bit concerned by Tails’s words, but I thought nothing of it. Waved it off as a momentary sadness for her, after all, this was Amy! She could bounce back from anything.

If it was really serious, I figured she would have come charging after me like before.

The stars weren’t here tonight... odd.

Sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah. The second time I heard anything a little more alarming was from Knuckles. Apparently, Amy had come to seek some solace from the unconditionally loving Chao--now this had been a solid day and half since I’ve heard about the incident of her wanting to be alone after reading some bad commentary on her--and she would shake the chao away from clinging to her.

He said he didn’t get it, cause she used to love to cuddle them and they all were really hurt by her wanting to keep her distance and just pat their heads.

Now, if anything were to set me and Knuckles off, it was that.

His face was so strained as he talked to me about it, I’ve never seen Knuckles trying to hold back so much worry and anger before. He said he tried to go over and give her a piece of his mind, but when she turned around, her eyes were vacant of anything but tears.

“It looked like she thought she had done something wrong before she even did it.” He stated, “I didn’t have the heart to continue yelling at her, so I just shooed her away, telling her to pick on someone else if she was feeling that crummy.”

“Harsh, Knuckles. Harsh.” I joked, but there was a low-key truth to what I said. “Tails said something about harsh comments on some articles she likes to read about us.” The old alter of the Master Emerald’s shrine was as stony and gravely as ever. The little pieces of chipped pebbles always grinded and dug themselves under my fur and into my skin every time I sat there, but Knuckles acted like nothing ever phased his tough skin.

I was acting kinda tough, too... to be real honest with you.

Knuckles huffed, grumbling as he picked up some berry juice he had squashed into a half-coconut  bowl and passed one over to me. “Doesn’t excuse telling a kid they can’t hold ya.” He was right... but then again...

“Maybe she just didn’t want the sympathy.” It was hard to look at it from a girl’s point of view, I didn’t quite understand what would tip her over the edge like that. Maybe they said she wasn’t pretty enough..? Ehh..?

“Girls really care about how others view them, you know?” I took a sip. It did in fact taste good, and I leaned back to let the slight acidy feel tingle against my throat as its favorable burst went down the ol’pipe. “Ahh~ That’s the spot!”

“...I don’t think you should be acting so carefree about this, Sonic.”

His sudden tone made me stop enjoying the berry sensation and look back to him, a little surprised but not by much. Knuckles always chose the direct route in any conversation, it’s what made him so easy and frustrating to talk to.

I smiled and closed my eyes, putting a foot down a step to stretch it out and sighed.

“...Yeah. I know.”

“If you know, then why don’t you do something about it!?” Knuckles, always ready to pull his voice out and speak up when he sees something he doesn’t like. “The very fact that she’s a girl means you should do somethin’ about it! Girls aren’t meant to mope about, they gotta be treated decently! Ain’t that half your job?!” ...Still, it made me like him like that. He was a good guy, and had the real makings of a hero--at least, to my standards--and a good friend at that!

“Half, huh?” I took another sip. Did everyone think me and Amy were something more..? After all these years, I hadn’t the slightest clue. Seems everyone else held a standard in their mind about it though...

“I’m serious! Aren’t you planning to do something about it?”

“Am I?” I smirked, not liking to be asked direct questions about myself. I took the coconut drink down and set it to the side, getting up and stretching my arm out in a few simple gestures. Spreading it across my chest and pulling it with my other hand, then twisting my torso right and down as I put the other arm back and used the one I’d momentarily stretched to reach sky high with it. “Boy, that feels good!”

“Grr... Sonic... if you’re making fun of this, I’ll-!” Before getting Knuckles too wound up, seeing him lift his fists again, I flicked myself in my usual--Sonic Charm~

I winked and wiggled my pointer finger, turning one leg to be slightly bent as I was about to speed off anyway.

I had heard what I wanted too, now time to do some more digging before investigating it right at it’s source.

“Don’t worry so much, Knuckles! Like I’d ever leave Amy to her own assumptions.” I still wasn’t sure what she was struggling with... but wanting to be alone and not have anyone clinging to her in affection?

Didn’t sound like Amy Rose to me.

While heading to dart off the island, I stopped by the chao and asked them what their story was.

Squatting down, I think I mustered up enough of my expertise in games to figure out their charaded play. It seems the chao could tell something was off from Amy’s usual, cheery nature. To try and help, they tried to swarm her as she usually did with endless hugs, but she delicately plucked each one off at a time and set them back down.

All she wanted was to sit, looking sadly between her arms and legs--I’m guessing the chao were trying to do the fetal upright position but their budgy bodies just can’t do it.--and pat their heads.

It made them uncomfortable to not be able to love on her, I assumed, and they continued to show me great concern as they held my arms in different places and showed me their adorable eyes.

“I get it, don’t worry, Amy’s gonna be just fine.” I smiled the best I could, but hearing... well, seeing their side of the story really... heh, opened my eyes?

Puns. Always a defense mechanism when you don’t intend to use them that way.

Something had me wanting to wait before I saw Amy again, though. Usually, that wasn’t like me, but I wanted a bigger picture.

I sped over to Cream’s and Vanilla’s, where I thought more insight might be had.

Tails had already called them, doing his own work to try and collect the pieces before directly asking Amy. We all knew Amy could be a bit... Nah, I won’t say it. But we wanted a better idea before we approached her about it.

Just safer that way...

I rubbed my head, remembering how easily one could fall into that hammer’s swing if they didn’t word things a bit more carefully, as Cream and Vanilla recounted Amy’s strange melancholy behavior, and how she wanted to seem less-

“Feminine?” That threw me for a loop, and trust me, I’ve had my fair share of running through loops.

“Well, not quite.” Vanilla was sitting on her lovely coach with Cream and Cheese sitting adjacent but slightly on her lap. She looked down at Cream who held her chin up a moment, wanting to be polite as she addressed me.

I did my best to hold a steady and kind eye-contact, but I could tell she was struggling to admit what she heard and saw.

“Miss Amy kept asking me strange questions. Like... Was she too much on something. I didn’t understand and she kept insisting I shouldn’t coddle her or lie to her. I didn’t know how to take that... I would never lie to Miss Amy! I just... didn’t understand what she wanted from me.”

It pained me to see that Amy had hurt someone from her own insecurities.

That was everything Amy stood against, and that’s when I knew this was getting out of hand.

I had let her be for a day just to see if she would either work it out on her own or come crying to me... but she hadn’t done either.

She was now hurting those close to her... and so it was time to intervene.

“Thank you for telling me that, Cream.” I purposefully spoke as tenderly as I could, “I’m sure that was hard for you. I’m very grateful you told me what happened.”

She buried herself into her mother’s chest, still hurt, and that drove a powerful fire through me.

That does it, Amy.

You don’t hurt people when you’re injured.

You come to someone stronger to help heal you if you can’t do it yourself.

At the time, I was really upset. Amy must have been polarized by the media.

They call her too traditional? Is that why she wanted to be more ‘tough’ like? Too protected? Too appeased?

Feminine... did she feel like a damsel in distress instead of our trusted friend?

I was trying to keep my head leveled, but I ended up closing my eyes during my run and letting the night’s air beat against me to try and cool myself off before finding her.

She wasn’t home, I checked the windows. No lights.

Unless she was sitting the dark, Amy always had a reading light on. She only turned every light off in her house when she was going to bed, so she could see the stars and feel like we were watching them together, no matter if we were far apart or not.

I looked to see she hadn’t any dirty dishes in the sink, and while peeking through the window, I noticed her drapes were down as well. That means she hadn’t been cooking or baking, and that she hadn’t opened the windows and pulled the drapes to let the smells carry, hoping I’d catch wind of it and invite myself in for a dinner with her.

I sped over to the city, thinking maybe she went on one of those ‘journey walks’ where she just window shops but ends up buying too many bags and waiting for me to bolt by and help her with them. She liked to think and experience things outside the home too... but I didn’t see her struggling with shopping bags anywhere.

She wasn’t watching Twinkle Park’s lights from her favorite outdoor restaurant, or purposefully losing her hat in hope’s I’d somehow see it and return it to her. She wasn’t sitting on her favorite spot with her favorite outdoor umbrella with her typical strawberry and vanilla shake and pretending she was too cold to finish it, bundling up and hoping I’d make a move and pull her closer or something.

She wasn’t in the fields where she’d pick flowers with Cream, or stare up at the clouds and reminisce about old times and stories we used to tell each other, or have her head on a bed of flowers so butterflies would come and sit on her still face as she dreamed of a future with me in it. Waiting for me to zip by and have the butterflies spread out and fly through my backdraft as the air around where I just blazed through would slowly return to a even, equilibrium.

She wasn’t anywhere I usually found her at.

I came up to my last spot I could think of. Why was this so hard? Amy could find me in a heartbeat... which... I couldn’t quite feel right now because it was fluttering dangerously like my shaky breaths.

I kept a strong look on my face, simply because I was worried my fear at not finding her would leak through and make her feel bad about being too well hidden.

I didn’t want her to feel bad... I didn’t want her to be alone for this long.

It had been the dark of the second day... I just wanted to see her. Make sure she was okay...

That anger that once fueled me was now popping in sparks of concern that made me walk around the rolling hills of Green Hill zone.

If she wasn’t here... looking for me... then I truly didn’t know where she was.

Eggman... would have been my next guess.

That, or Amy was replaced by a robot of his and was terrorizing the living daylights out of her friends!

... It was concerning. I wouldn’t worry. I couldn’t worry... Amy wasn’t a little girl anymore and hateful, spiting comments were to be expected when you live in the spotlight.

But I was just wanting to know where she was... how she was... It was starting to drive me crazy.

“Where are you... Amy?” I looked up to the sky, blank and black, and I didn’t like the omen it sent me. Like chills down my fur, the wind finally got to me. I felt the cold... empty world for the first time... realizing Amy was out in it without me.

Was she without her coat? Was she silently re-reading those awful articles?

‘Amy... Amy... Hear me... You’re not alone.’ My thoughts channeled through to my feet and I kept searching, darting here to there, scouting out east and west, north to south was like zig-zagging till every blade swayed left and right to make sure she wasn’t hiding somewhere in it’s darkened shade...

A crescent moon... not a full one. She liked the full moon.

‘Amy...’

As I ran through a rather flattened terrain of another zone, I watched to the side of me how the treelined slimmed down and the edge of the world rose up on a hill... that soon became a mountain.

Blocking my view... of any light the night could have brought to her.

She only liked the dark when she was about to sleep... it’d be too dark to really see her way home, soon.

I had confidence she knew her way home, that the world wasn’t that dangerous... but I wondered if her mind could be.

‘Amy...’ I bit down my teeth, charging forward in a streak of blue.

“AMMMMYYY!!!!”

----

As though hearing something in the distance, I raised my head and looked back over my shoulder.

Something kept telling me Sonic was looking for me... but I wondered if that was true this time.

I turned my solemn head with a sigh back to the last shred of light from the fading sun... I felt like... if I got any closer, I would feel it’s warmth envelop me completely... and I’d disappear from this world.

All these awful words in my head would cease, all this terrible feeling of not being enough, or too much, or just dull and unwanted... I wanted it all to go away.

I had cried and thought so much, self-reflected to the point of not even knowing where I was or how far I had traveled off too.

Tails said I was acting too sensitive to words that random people that didn’t even know me had said. Knuckles yelled at me when I tried to change my behavior so I wasn’t what those people had written about. Cream even got tongue-tied trying to voice her own thoughts about me... and ended up just saying something to ‘feed my ego’ as they put it.

No... Cream wouldn’t do that. Tails wouldn’t try and be so dismissive of me like they said they all are. Knuckles... Okay, Knuckles is loud and yells a lot, but he meant well..!

She groaned and let herself flop back to lay against the cold grass, still holding her arms around herself as she was getting terribly cold in her heartache.

Knuckles just didn’t like how the chao were reacting to my new behavior... it’s understandable they would have been apprehensive to me trying to love them a little less directly... But practicing my new, refined self on them didn’t seem to have any good effects...

Maybe I’m overthinking... but I just want someone to tell me... I’m alright.

She put her arms over her eyes, refusing to look up at such a dark and ugly sky tonight.

“I just-” she sniffed, feeling the hot tears break through her already stained, sticky cheeks full of her earlier dried tears again. “I just want someone to tell me I’m perfect the way I am..!”

A sound arrowed itself into a bow along the plain of where Amy was, a sound that soared through her like a sonicboom that cracked through to her heart and made her sit up, looking as though with outrageous hope towards the last lowering light of the sun’s touch...

The grassy hill behind her seemed to have made a sound like something was moving quickly across it’s tundra... like something was refusing to let her sit in the quietness to let her thoughts overwhelm and consume her.

Her thoughts could hear someone calling her name...

“Sonic..?”

She lightly whispered his name out.

Then, as though pushing her lips back to not bother him, but wanting more than anything to jump into his arms-!

“SOOONIICCC!!!”

-----

He zoomed back to the sound, his eyes raising as though elated to finally get a trace of her.

And those tears that sparkled and lit up the entire night sky with stars...

And those arms that reached out for him, as though stretching on for eternity... a never-ending yearning he always accepted, granted a little half-heartedly, but never refused.

That scene was forever imprinted on him... and he wasn’t letting Amy leave his sights till she was her usual, teasingly flirty and emotionally unbreakable, spirited and youthful self again!

[beetlemancy]

I got tagged by @xombigirl 

1. Do you make your bed?

Kind of? I just have the bottom sheet and a giant honkin’ Cuddleduds blanket, and i sleep in a loft, so the blanket sort of makes itself because the only way to have it not hit the ceiling is to lay it mostly flat anyway. 

2. What’s your favourite number?

.... None, i fuckin’ hate numbers.

3. What’s your job?

I work in post-production, free-lance - right now I’m mostly doing networking which is the Actual Worst

4. If you could go back to school, would you?

No, I literally just got out.

5. Can you parallel park?

Not really. I can sometimes. It scares me.

6. A job you had that would surprise people?

I don’t think any of my jobs would surprise people. I used to work with animals - once in the mountains I was cleaning an aviary and a mountain lion came up out of the woods. I had to lock myself in the aviary. Cat was p chill, she was far more interested in the birds, but once she realized she couldn’t get in, she left. Its one of my favorite memories. She was close enough to touch through the wire. She was majestic. We made eye contact a few times and I nearly passed out from sheer joy. 

7. Do you think aliens are real?

Probably, statistically.

8. Can you drive a manual car?

I can sort of, but I suck at it still. I’m currently learning to be better with the family truck.  

9. What’s your guilty pleasure?

Jenna Marbles videos (oh shit Chels, same!)

10. Tattoos?

None currently, two planned. A beetle holding a bird of paradise, and the Within Temptation RESIST symbol with my brother’s death date above but connected to it and his initials melded into the design in the middle. 

11. Favourite colour?

Ehh, black I suppose, but it changes to any earth tones mostly. dark oranges and greens, sometimes purple for spice.

12. Favourite type of music?

symphonic metal, yall. best music hands down. My favorite band is Within Temptation, my brother and I were obsessed with them when we were growing up. I’ve been relistening to them over and over since he died and fell back into the symphonic metal whirlwind. I always loved Delain and Epica as well, and only adjacently listened to Nightwish - so I’ve been giving Nightwish more of a chance this go around and have not been disappointed.  

13. Things people do that drive you crazy?

When they turn into Jared, 19 when reading my posts sometimes? Like assumptions being made, hypocrisy, etc. Typical human bullshit.  

14. Do you love doing puzzles?

Not particularly...

15. Any phobias?

Ants. The only creature in the world I cannot stand.

16. Favorite childhood sport?

Soccer/football. Also water polo.

17. Do you talk to yourself?

all the damn time.

18. What movie do you adore?

Galaxy Quest.

19. Coffee or tea?

both. both is good.

20. First thing you wanted to be growing up?

Oh, a veterinarian, until I realized how much math that would require. Then it was all about zoo stuff. 

Tagging whoever wants to!

[eloarei]

Since I’ve been laid out by some nasty bug, I’ve had a little bit of time to read lately. (Energy for it? Ehh, sometimes.) So I finally reread a book that had been on my list for a while: Z for Zachariah. I initially read this book for class back in middle school, but it has always sort of haunted me. It’s a very simply-written book, by the author of The Rats of NIMH, but it’s... interesting.  It’s about a teenage girl who lives alone in seemingly the only valley protected from a nuclear war. Already I love it because I’m fascinated with anything mildly adjacent to Fallout and its themes, and I like survival stories. But then a man appears in the world’s only prototype radiation-protected suit, and that’s when things get complicated.  Mr. Loomis has always been a memorable character to me, because when I was a teenager I found him appealing, but frightening-- which is exactly how he’s supposed to appear, I think. The funny thing is that I always thought of him as an ‘older’ guy, like late forties to fifties? But he’s like 32. ...I’m 32???! So all these years I was thinking this guy was old enough to be Ann’s dad when, in fact, he’s roughly Daniel Radcliffe’s age. I’m not sure if that makes him less or more frightening, tbh.  Anyway, the story is ostensibly about two people trying to figure out how to live together in a dangerous world (and one eventually deciding it ain’t gonna work), but really it’s a lot more about abusive relationships than I initially realized.  The absolutely terrifying thing in the story is that Loomis is an obsessive control freak. As soon as he sees the importance in something (a resource, animal, person) he’s desperate to be in complete control of it. I’m lucky enough to never have known anyone like that, but it felt like such a real predicament that I know others sometimes find themselves in. Sometimes that’s a romantic relationship, or sometimes it’s parental. But it’s very scary either way.  Anyway, I’m not strictly suggesting the book. Some people like it (I did), others hate it, and it is indeed somewhat bleak. But I’m glad I got to reread it; it’s always interesting to see something again with 20 years more experience. (The experience to know that this was quite a dark book to read as a kid! But we read a lot of dark things, so.) 

[gachastar-archive]

tagged by @carseatlesbian thank u sm..i am......basking in the validation (this rlly does make me very happy tho like i havent gotten tagged in one of these things in forever and i miss them and i miss interacting w/ ppl!! anyway)

rules are you answer the questions and then tag 20 followers/people in general you’d like to get to know more about

Name: star

Nickname: flub (my sister used to just mangle my birth name and it kept devolving b4 she settled on flub, but like she can still just grunt and ill respond)

Gender: ehh, if i had to choose im gonna go w/ girl i guess, but like.....i know im not cis so like, girl adjacent

Height: 5ft4/165cm 

Star Sign: scorpio

Sexuality: i am a lesbiam

Hogwarts House: ravenclaw i think

Favorite Animal: DOGS, really all of them

Average Hours of Sleep: weekdays like 6-8, but weekends like 14-15

Dogs or Cats: dogs for sure, but i love cats too

How Many Blankets I Sleep With: two rlly soft big ones actually covering me and one little fleecy guy to tangle my feet in

Dream Trip: probably korea or japan, but like..im the pickiest eater in the world so like if u cant even take me to the pizza place down the street then u best believe i’d starve in a foreign country

Dream Job: like a translator maybe, i lov languages, or maybe a professor, or like an author or smthn i rlly dont know

When I Made This Account: bruh fuckin........2013/14

Why I Made This Account: my bff in school introduced me to tumblr and ive kept using the same acct all this time bc im both lazy and sentimental......also ive never gone thru and deleted old posts, so dont search for anything on my blog and dont drag me for shit i posted when i was like 14 and a sherlock fan

Number of Followers: like 500ish probably, idk and idc 

Reason for url: i own a small bottle of tangerine essential oil from my sister’s spa-themed bday party like 10yrs ago (i want a new url but idk what, the only reason this one has stuck around so long is bc its not referencing an obsession of mine that will fade just as they all have)

i tag @liver-disasters @taahko @santafeprologue @regenerated @embroidboys @myung-j @fiddlestyx @marje @ankharel @llupcretia @swampthot @tsukkitani @cosygf  and whoever else wants to do it i guess....

[teddyylou]

Otayuri Week - Day 7: Fantasy Worlds Apart

In Russia during the great war, King Victor and Queen Yuuri were under attack in their castle. It had been taken over and set on fire, trapping inside the royal family and all of their subjects as it burnt to the ground.

All of the secret tunnels out of the kingdom had been caved in by enemy troops. All but one.

 The royal Majesties were having dinner with their best Kazakh ally and friend and his wife when all hell broke loose. A canon ball had smashed right through their window. 

The couples grabbed their boys who were playing with toy soldiers at their parents’ feet and ran.

A guard told them that they would secure the castle and that getting the royal family and their guests safe was the priority.

Squire, Pitchit lead the two families by candle light through the last tunnel unknown to the invaders as their lungs filled wth smoke. 

When they reached fresh air with nothing on them but themselves and the thin clothes on their backs, there was a cart set up for them to be pulled by one horse away from the war.

First, the Kazakh couple boarded the cart, settling themselves in the small car and lifting their small six-year-old son up onto their lap.

Right as the King and Queen lifted their three-year-old blonde boy up into the car, a flaming arrow shot past them, narrowly missing King Victor’s full, platinum hair. They stood still in fear, the small boy still held out in front of them.

Then the air raid began. Flaming arrow after flaming arrow hit the ground around them. A herd of enemy soldiers came hurdling their way over to them over the hill. They had been found out.

“Quick your Majesties, into the car!” Yelled Pitchit, but as Queen Yuuri set one foot forward an arrow from the sky hurtled into his foot.

Yuuri screamed out in pain as he fell to the ground, baby and all; The king instantly followed to catch his soulmate.

“Quick Victor! Help Yuuri into the car, we must leave at once!” Called the couple from the car as the two boys began to cry due to their separation and the commotion.

“No! I’ll slow you down. Go without me.” Whimpered the Queen.

“No Yuuri, I will not leave you.” Cried Victor, tears spilling from his crystal eyes.

They both looked into each other’s faces, reading their expression, communicating through solemn glances.

Still looking at his pained lover on the floor, Victor told Pitchit,

“Take Yura on the cart. Get our companions safe, we shall stay.”

“No, NO!” The three adults cried in unison as the enemy troops began to circle them.

“Go, NOW! You don’t have much time.”

The King and Queen picked up their son and wrapped him in a hug as he wailed, sensing that something was not right.

“Listen, baby, shhhhh…” Queen Yuuri said comfortingly, “Remember that your Daddy’s love you. You will be safe. Go play with Beka, baby.” He soothed.

“We love you Yura.” Said Victor, as he lifted the price into Pitchit’s arms.

“We will see you soon.” He said as Pitchit shut Yuri onto the cart with the three Kazak’s and hopped onto the front of it, whipping the horse into a run, knocking down anyone who was in their way.

The Squire knew that wasn’t going to be true as he turned back in time to see the King and Queen hugged together on the floor surrounded by enemy troops wielding spears and swords, all pointed at the royal’s necks.

He was blinded by tears as the couple grew out of sight. Pitchit rode the cart nonstop for the whole night out of Russia.

Poor Yuri would never remember his parents. Russia had fallen. The best and fairest Queen and King in history had been captured and would most likely be killed. 

——– 12 years later ——-

Prince Yuri sat on his windowsill, leaning against the glass, feeling its cool surface on his red cheeks.

He looked away from the view outside his bedroom as he shut his eyes. The beauty of Kazakstan that he had always known disappearing.

Well not always. Yuri had been told of his past. He was still called ‘Prince’ although he had ruled nothing for the last twelve years.

He banged his head once, softly, just trying to remember something, anything…

“Agh!” He yelled angrily when again the image of his two Dads disappeared from his mind, never lingering for more than a second. Not even one artwork of his beloved parents had been saved when the castle was destroyed.

He banged his head harder as he failed to remember his own bedroom that had belonged to him before he moved here.

He refused to believe that his parents were dead, just, captured. 

He had been given a lovely life by the King and Queen of Kazakstan, but he would stop at nothing to find them.

He sighed as he looked back out over the castle grounds. He could see all of his and Prince Otabek’s favorite places to hide, relishing in the memories.

A tear slipped from his large eyes, brushed away by his long blond hair that touched his cheek.

“Yura?” Said a deep voice. Yuri waited silently for his friend. He heard the door squeak open and light footsteps on the wooden floor. 

Otabek knew that this meant that yuri was sad. This castle wasn’t his homeland but he had made it comfortably his home, always yelling and dancing around the place with Otabek.

But he had his moments and Otabek was always there to comfort him. Brushing his hair back into braids or massaging his shoulders. Sometimes just his presence was enough. Today, he knew, it wouldn’t be.

He could sense that Yuri was angry with himself and he knew why.

He walked across the large room that was adjacent to his and sat opposite his best friend on the windowsill.

Yuri sighed and fell into him, leaning his tiny head on Otabek’s, large, muscular shoulder.

“You were only three Yura, don’t beat yourself up.” He soothed.

“No!” Yuri trembled, and Otabek wrapped an arm around the smaller boy’s waist.

“I-I need to. They are my family. I- I love them… I guess.” he shook.

“No, don’t think like that kitten.” He stroked Yuri’s hair. 

‘Soft’, he thought.

He used to call Yuri that when they were little because he had once thought that the toddler really was one. He didn’t call him that often but he was pulling out all the stops to cheer his friend up.

“Ehh, Beka, what if I don’t find them? I’ll be a horrible son.”

“No, you won’t. Never. I remember them, they would never think that of their little soldier.” He said as he picked up the only thing salvaged from the attack. The little toy soldier that had found its way into Otabek’s six-year-old hand as they were rescued. It now lived on Yuri’s window.

“I wish I remembered them like you do? Were they as nice as you parent’s said they were?” He looked up into Otabek’s eyes. Yuri’s green/blue ones shimmered as they were clouded by tears.

“Would you like me to tell you?” 

Yuri nodded and then laid his head on Otabek’s lap. the eighteen-year-old recited everything that he could remember from his frequent visits to Russia, as he often did when Yuri was upset and he continued to practically pet the boy as he did so.

“As the sun fell behind the hills, Yuri fell asleep in his best friends lap, dreaming of his home, with Otabek and with is parents. Maybe one day he would find them, and he could tell them all about what a man Otabek had become. What Kazakstan was like and everything that had happened.

“I love you, beautiful Prince…” He heard as a soft whisper, not even sure if it was real, before he drifted off to sleep completely.

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

Otayuri Week- Day 7: Fantasy

Au in which Yuri’s home was destroyed and he was ripped from his parents at a young age to live in Kazakstan with his best and only friend.

I don’t know, you tell me what you think…

[hurt-care]

“An Unexpected Mission”

So, this is a sickfic that I wrote a few years back for a Secret Santa on the Forum and just rediscovered. I think it’s pretty fun and I figured I’d share it here. It’s Avengers fic, featuring Natasha and Clint, set after the first Avengers film but it was written before Age of Ultron came out (so there’s reference to Clint’s farmhouse as seen in the trailer, but not in canon with how we find him in that movie). It incorporates some canon from the Matt Fraction comics, but you don’t have to have read them to follow along. 

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

It's Stark who sends her to find Clint. He's trying to reassemble the team to discuss some research he's been doing with Banner on some of the weaponry that Loki left behind and Clint hasn't been responding to any forms of communication. Natasha is sure Clint's on a bender, or something of the sort. He's not been the same since New York. Her partner was deeply affected by his role in Loki's villainy and one visit to Clint's disastrous flat in a less desirable borough of the city told her all she needed to know: Barton was more of a mess than usual.

It's why she agrees to go fetch him. Normally she'd've given Stark some lip and told him to send one of his fancy planes but arriving with fanfare isn't going to do anything to convince Barton to rejoin the group. His SHIELD tracking device, which she sweet talks Fury into pinging, sets his location in upstate New York, almost at the Canadian border. She knows Barton's family owned an old farmhouse somewhere in that area and she suspects that's where he's hidden away.

The drive is actually nice, to her surprise. The interstate highway isn't crowded and the further north she gets, the more spectacular the scenery becomes. The trees are all adorned in crimson and orange leaves as autumn sunshine drenches everything in golden light. When she pulls down the dirt road leading to a sprawling bit of land with a large white farmhouse she half expects to see Barton emerge over the crest of a distant hill on horseback. The whole thing is a bit too idyllic.

She parks at the end of the gravel drive and approaches the house, climbing the few steps up onto the wrap-around porch. There's a few creaky rocking chairs slowly moving back and forth with the breeze. A grey tabby cat emerges from behind a few empty flowerpots and mews pitifully, circling Natasha's legs. She's always been fonder of felines and she dips down to give the scruffy cat a light scratch on the head.

There's no sign of anyone around except for a pickup parked closer to the barn. The house appears dark when she peers through the dusty front windows into the main floor but she can see a set of keys on the large oak kitchen table and a backpack she recognizes as Barton's sitting on the counter.

The grey cat follows her back to the front door, clearly eager to get inside the house. She pushes it back with her leg as she tries a testing knock on the door. She waits a moment and gets no reply. Though she does not expect it to be unlocked, she tries the doorknob anyway and is surprised when the door swings open easily. If Clint is inside, it's not like him to leave a door unsecured.

There's a suddenly flurry of movement as the cat darts through her legs inside and then suddenly comes zooming back out the door followed by a boisterous blur of yellow fur. Natasha is nearly knocked over by the dog but it stops dead in front of her, panting and wagging its scruffy tail. She raises an eyebrow at the creature and carefully nudges past it, shutting the door behind her and keeping one hand firmly at her hip where one of her guns rests in its holster.

The dog circles and sits in front of her as she stands still, eyes canvassing the scene. There's three empty pizza boxes on the floor near the door that smell like they're a few days old. On the couch in the adjacent living room is a small nest of blankets that looks recently abandoned along with an empty tissue box that's been converted into some sort of makeshift trash. It's nearly bursting with used tissues and a half-crushed beer can that's sticking out of the top where the tissues once emerged.

A damp nose brushes her hand and she pulls it away, startled. The dog whines and tries to nudge her again as his tail drums out a rhythm on the old pine wood floor.

“What?” she says softly. “Are you hiding Barton in here?”

The dog turns towards a staircase at the end of a hallway as if pointing her in the right direction. She's not terribly suspicious of the situation just yet. Either Barton simply isn't home or he's passed out drunk upstairs. She suspects the latter, if the dog is to be trusted.

Still, she remains vigilant. She heads towards the staircase and the dog bounds after her. It's only when it starts up the steps that she notices it has a slight limp to its gait.

When they reach the top, she's met with a series of doors. One at the end is open just a crack and the dog heads straight for it, nosing it open. Natasha follows behind, sticking close to the wall and trying to minimize the sound of her footsteps on the creaky wood floor.

She rounds the corner of the doorway and peers in. Immediately she's hit with the stuffy, hot air of a sickroom. Barton is sprawled out on a large four-poster bed under several patchwork quilts. At the foot of the bed are two more empty pizza boxes and a few containers from Chinese takeout. The food trash is only made more disgusting by the accompanying trash spread across the floor...tissues. Natasha cringes at the sight alone....there must be at least four dozen spread near the bedside. On the nightstand, a small mountain of them is stacked up along with at least three water glasses, two beer cans, and three take-out coffee cups.

“What the fuck, Barton?” she says aloud, entering the room. She's tempted to go back to her car for her biological warfare kit, to be honest.

He doesn't stir. The dog, who until now has been scavenging some dried cheese from the bottom of one of the pizza boxes, leaps up onto the bed and settles down against Clint's side.

Natasha approaches the bed, rounding the corner so she's standing on the side where she can see his face. He's snoring quietly and she can tell with one glimpse of him that he's not passed out from beer at all. In fact, he clearly had what she can only assume is the most horrible head-cold ever.

She's always teased him about his upturned, pug-like nose. Now it shines like a beacon on the centre of his face, red and swollen. His upper lip is also an angry red colour and so chapped that she can see the tender, peeling skin from several feet away. His mouth is open and he's taking slow and shallow breathes, snoring and snorting in a battle against congestion. A small bubble of congestion is pulsing threateningly in his left nostril, shiny and wet. She glances around for a moment, seeking something to poke him with, but she decides its too late. If this is some ridiculous bio-hazard situation, she's already been exposed.

With a gentler touch than usual, she puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a very light shake. He doesn't respond. She increases her pressure, giving him a slight shove. He stirs and groans, his arm extending and hitting the dog.

“Lucky,” he grumbles, not opening his eyes. “Fuck off.”

“I hope Lucky is the dog's name,” Natasha quips. “I don't want any new nicknames. Besides, no one partnered to you is lucky.”

Clint opens his eyes, blinking and squinting. He doesn't even attempt to raise his head from the pillow, as if its too heavy to lift.

“I'm too sick for anything stupid shit that Fury wants,” he mutters. His voice is nearly unintelligible between the congestion and the gravely hoarseness. He turns his head slightly to shield his mouth into the pillow and he coughs harshly. Natasha makes a mental note to say it sounds suspiciously like bronchitis.

“It's Stark who's looking for you,” Natasha says. “Well, Stark and the rest of us. You haven't picked up your phone all week.”

“I've been busy,” he says.

“Busy dying, apparently.”

He doesn't offer his usual smirking response to her jab.

“The front door was unlocked,” she continues. “Fury wouldn't be pleased if he showed up. Earth's greatest archer assassin, ready for the killing.”

“Left it open for the delivery guy,” Barton replies hoarsely. “It's the middle of nowhere. Who cares.”

“Ah, the delivery guy. So your phone does work?”

“The landline does. The cell....it's downstairs somewhere. On the couch? It's probably dead.”

“How long have you been sick, anyway?” she asks. He looks and sounds terrible.

“I don't know,” he says, closing his eyes with a weary sigh “A few days. It's gotten worse. I haven't been out of here since yesterday morning.”

“I don't think pizza and beer are really good things to be having if you've been getting worse.”

“The pizza was for the dog, mostly.”

Natasha raises her eyebrow once more at the scruffy yellow canine.

“For the dog?”

“Yes, for the dog, 'Tasha. It's practically all he'll...ehh...ehh-TSKGHTT!”

Barton interrupts himself with a wrenching sneeze that he doesn't bother to cover. His head snaps forward a bit and he jerks violently. The dog in question lifts his head, startled.

Natasha steps back with a frown.

“Bood' zdorov,” she says, offering a Russian blessing out of habit. “Are there any clean tissues in here?”

Clint sniffles wetly and reaches a hand out from under the covers, exposing a tissue box he's apparently been treating as his teddy bear. He plucks out a cloth and dabs his nose a little, wincing. Natasha can understand why; it looks painful even to lightly touch.

He's balling up the tissue to add to the pile when he starts to cough again. It begins as a few soft hacks but quickly snowballs into a red-faced, sweaty fit. Natasha pulls back the quilts, urging Barton to sit up. She's surprised to find his t-shirt nearly soaked with sweat at the back as she guides him up. He takes a wheezy, gasping inhale and finally recovers. His nose is streaming down his lip and he's trembling with shivers.

“Ty che, blyad....” Natasha murmurs. What the fuck...?

“You're in rough shape, Barton,” she says, pressing a hand to his forehead and finding it as burning hot as she'd expected. He huffs a small cough in reply.

“No, I'm serious,” she says. “You've just been lying here alone like this for days letting the local places deliver room service?”

“Pretty much,” Clint says. Lucky the dog is trying hard to climb into Clint's lap but Natasha shoves him aside.

“Your dog is annoying as hell,” she says, but she doesn't really mean it. She's mostly worried about Barton...very worried.

“He's a good sleeping buddy,” Clint mutters. “He's warm. And I owe him.”

“You've got to get out of this bed and cleaned up,” Natasha says, steeling her voice to sound all business. “You won't get better lying in the middle of a trash heap and all sweaty like this.”

Barton is lying back down before she can finish the suggestion.

“No, no,” she says, grabbing at his arm.

“No, no to you,” he rasps. “There's no way. I can't do a shower. Just let me lie here.”

“There's got to be a tub in this house though,” she says. “A bath? You don't have to stand.”

He heaves a crackling sigh.

“I don't really think you're leaving me a choice. So sure.”

“Good. I'll go turn it on and get you when it's ready. Need anything in the mean time? Is there tea in this place?”

“You can just go, Natasha,” he says. “I'm fine. It's the flu.”

“I'm here now,” she says. “Too late. Just a bath-- hang on.”

She finds the bathroom halfway down the hall and turns taps until she gets the massive claw-foot tub filling with lukewarm water. Once it's full, she goes to fetch Barton.

He can barely stand; legs so wobbly and tired after the length of time in bed and the raging fever. Stumbling along at her side as she grips him tightly, they make their way to the bathroom.

Sitting heavily on the closed toilet seat lid, Barton looks at the bath and then at Natasha.

“Alright,” he says. “You can go.”

“I've seen you naked, Barton. Let's get on with it.”

“I can get myself in a tub, Romanoff,” he growls, removing his sweaty t-shirt.

“Fine. Don't fall,” she instructs, glaring at him. “I'll go tidy up.”

“I'll just go to another bedroom,” he replies.

“Then you'll just destroy that one. No use making trash piles in multiple rooms.”

He doesn't reply as she leaves and shuts the bathroom door behind her. Several minutes later, as she's picking up tissues with improvised gloves made from a pair of clean athletic socks she'd found, she hears an echoing sound from the bathroom

Huhrr-TSGHKTTT!

Clint's throaty sneeze bounces off the tiled walls of the bathroom and seems to echo down the hall. Lucky the dog jumps from the unmade bed and pads down the hall, lying out front of the bathroom door as if standing vigil for his master.

Natasha finishes picking up the tissues and gathers all the trash into a tidy pile for later removal. Then, she focuses on the mess of a bed, stripping the sweat-dampened sheets and pillows, exchanging them for fresh ones she finds in a hall linen closet. By the time she's done, she hears Clint sloshing about in the tub and the sound of a few more chesty coughs.

“You okay in there?” she asks, rapping her knuckles on the door.

Hehhh---ehh-TSGHKTTT!

The sneeze makes her jump. It's surprisingly loud coming from behind the closed door.

“Drying off,” Clint's voice finally replies. After a moment he emerges, a towel wrapped around his waist. He's shivering a little but looks slightly less pale. He shuffles to the bedroom, more steady on his feet now, and shuts the door. Natasha waits outside with Lucky at her feet, nudging her hand for pats she won't oblige him with. Finally she hears the creak of Barton's mattress and she goes in.

He has a fresh pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt on, and he's climbing back under the covers. Lucky leaps up on the bed with a wagging tail and settles his head against Clint's chest.

“I just need to sleep,” Clint insists, his eyes drooping closed.

“Have you had any medicine at all?” Natasha asks. Not that medicine necessarily cures these sorts of things, but it makes the suffering less. Clint shakes his head no.

“Alright,” she says. “Sleep then. I'll go into town and find some supplies. Be back later.”

Barton doesn't reply. She's sure she hears him start to snore as she steps away.

In her car, she dials Tony.

“Yeah, it'll be a few days,” she says into the phone. “He's pretty sick. Yeah.....yeah he's in upstate.....yeah. Alright. I'll call you later.”

She hangs up and reverses down the driveway, headed for the drug store. This wasn't exactly the mission she'd expected.

[the-excursion]

Keeping Promises & Completing Contracts

The wind was still, and the air quiet, it was a calm day. Nylo was lying down on the grass. She was resting in the middle of a large field filled with healthy green grass. The sun shined brightly over the grass. Nylo wasn't wearing her armor instead she had on a casual looking under suit. She rolled over and looked at her sheathed sword that laid beside her. She grabbed her sword by the sheath and jumped up onto her feet. She stretched and yawned as she looked towards the sun she met the sun's blazing heat with an equally warm gaze. After realizing a staring contest with the sun couldn't be won she moved her gaze a bit to the west of the sun. Now she stared at the Blackstar. When the sun was out so was the Blackstar. She grabbed a lock of her silver hair and looked at it. Simply looking at the Blackstar made Nylo think back to her family and the Nissian blood that flowed through her. Her grip on her sword became tighter.

Nylo decided she had rested long enough. She started to walk towards the nearest town. She had no plans on where she was going or what she was going to do. She arrived at the small town and made her way to its small market. She took in the different sights and smells. Many of the vendors shouted out across the market trying to get the attention of potential patrons. Nylo ignored the shouts and pleas for business, but something penetrated through to Nylo. What cut through to her senses was the smell of a freshly made batch of chicken stew. Nylo’s mouth began to salivate as she made it across the small plaza and towards the savory smell. She arrived to the origin of the smell. It was a quaint inn made of brick. Many of the the people within the inn were sitting down enjoying a meal from the inn’s kitchen. Nylo walked up to the main counter and leaned against the counter. As she did this her stomach growled. The inn keep heard this. “So will it be the stew?” He asked Nylo. She laughed. “Yeah actually,” Nylo said awkwardly. “That'll be two blossoms,” the inn keep said. Nylo started patting herself and checking her pockets. She remembered she had spent all the money she had. She put on a frown, but before she could give some sort of excuse a man sat by her. “Yes can I get two bowls of the stew,” the man grinned. The inn keep nodded and walked off to his kitchen.

The man turned to her. “So you’re a knight?” He asked Nylo. “No I'm not a knight.” “Oh so you're a sellsword,” he replied. “Sorta,” Nylo nodded. “Well then that's perfect I needed someone to accompany me to the Athenaeum in Hirth, and it seems you're low on funds, and I'll pay 100 blooms” Nylo thought about his proposition. She thought about how far Hirth was from here, and if the compensation was fair. Nylo shrugged off any rational and figured the journey would prove beneficial to her and give her a reason to finally visit the city Hirth. She nodded to the man. “I'll go.” “Great I prefer to bind agreements and contracts. That's okay right?” The man asked. Nylo was familiar with concept of binding contracts but she had never actually done so before. Nylo nodded and put her palm facing down on the counter. He started to reach in his bag he was carrying for his ink bind. He made sure the stamp was fully saturated in the ink then he stamped it on both of their right hands. The ink disappeared into their skin. “I won't ask anything of you beyond protecting me, and ensuring my safe passage to the Athenaeum. The blooms I'm giving you can’t be used by you until I arrive to my destination,” he very briefly explained the terms of their agreement. Nylo nodded and they shook hands. Where the ink stamp had been applied now gave a faint glimmer. Nylo looked at her hand, and shrugged. Gareth then reached into his bag and grabbed a sack of coins he handed the sack to Nylo. “The binding seal is pretty simple. It won't let you open the sack and spend any of the blooms till I arrive at the Athenaeum,” Gareth further elaborated. “Sounds simple enough,” Nylo said as she grabbed the sack of blooms.

Nylo looked to the counter and realized that the innkeeper had brought the stew already and that it had been sitting getting cold. Nylo pulled the bowl to her and began to quickly eat it. Once they were both done eating they got up and began to walk out. “Oh my name is Gareth by the way,” he said as he gave room to Nylo so she could pass by the doorway leading outside. “Nylo,” she said as she shook Gareth's hand again as he also made it out the inn. Gareth explained to Nylo how they were going to take the rail motive most of the way to Hirth. Then they were going to ride on horseback the rest of the way.

They made their way to the rail station, and Gareth purchased two tickets for the rail ride. Nylo stood back leaning against a wall watching over Gareth. Gareth jogged up to Nylo. “Nylo were going to miss the rail motive. It's about to depart,” Gareth exclaimed jogging over to the tracks. Nylo followed him and they quickly made their way inside one of the rail cars. They found a pair of seats and sat down. Nylo sat in the seat beside the aisle and Gareth by the window. “So the silver hair and red eyes, but no pointy ears. You’re a demi-elf.” “Yeah I am,” Nylo replied. “I've actually had the pleasure of meeting a few demi-elves, but you’re the first demi I've ever met who makes it known like you do. All the demis I've met dye their silver hair to a less conspicuous hair color, and they go about changing their eye color as well. Also they don't carry ancient Nissian weapons with them,” Gareth said as he glanced at her sheathed sword. The sword’s scabbard was the color of obsidian and had bright blue detailings. The hilt was also the color of obsidian. Nylo unsheathed the sword ever so slightly keeping most of the blade within the scabbard but allowing a small segment of the blade to be seen. The blade's metal was a bright blue. Nylo quickly sheathed the sword again. “You’re familiar with the sword,” Nylo exclaimed in a soft tone. “One of my areas of study is of Nissian technology and artifacts, and that's the Cat’s Glaive. The weapon of the legendary Nissian guardsmen Ailuros Amory. If my memory serves me correctly this guardsman settled down with a simple human farm boy. Then she shared her name and blood to her kin. That was over two hundred years ago. You also make no effort to hide your name you told me you were Nylo. That makes you Nyloria Amory. There’s not many demi-born families it's not hard to keep tabs on them,” Gareth said. Nylo smiled. “I usually travel with my armor on. I picked the wrong day to not do that I guess. Was all that the reason you approached me and got me to travel with you?” Nylo asked. 'Well sort of. I just wanted to travel with the lost princess. People within noble and adept circles are well aware of your disappearance. Your father died and then you disappeared. There are all sorts of rumors about your disappearance. Either your father's killer killed him and made his way out with you. He died of natural causes and you left out of grief, and some of the rumors even sound like you killed him and fled your castle with the family arms, that sword, but I don't really care about any of that. I just wanted to hang out with a demi. It has been awhile since I have,” Gareth said. Nylo squirmed around in her seat a bit trying to get more comfortable. “I kinda figured there was some sort of catch to that bowl of stew,” Nylo said. “Ehh not really. I needed a good travel partner you seemed like one and you happened to be a demi. Also you were low on funds seems like it worked out for all of us,” Gareth finished. Gareth took out a book and began to read. Once Nylo got comfortable she fell asleep.

About an hour had passed. Gareth was still reading and Nylo was still asleep. “Hey Nylo I need to use the bathroom,” Gareth said as he poked Nylo. Nylo quickly woke up. “Hmm what's wrong,” she asked. “I gotta pee,” he whispered in an embarrassed voice. Nylo got up and started walking towards the back of their rail car. “So how close are we to our stop?” Nylo asked him. “We’re pretty close actually. Probably like ten minutes left to the next town. It's actually as far as this rail goes. The rest of the rails laid out by the Nissians that lead to Hirth were actually destroyed about a hundred years ago,” Gareth explained. Nylo nodded just as they reached the laboratory in the back. Gareth entered and began to go about his business. Nylo leaned against the door that lead connected the exterior of the rail car and led to the other rail cars. Nylo looked out the door and looked at the rails that were directly adjacent to the ones they were on. Another rail motive was beside them but this one was carrying only cargo. Nylo felt a presence behind her from the cabin they just came from. She turned around and seen a man wearing a hood slowly entering into the hallway she was within. She turned back to the cabin with her back facing the door again. She tensed up slightly once she did so the man took out a dagger and began to lunge at her. She grabbed the hilt of her sword and decided to utilize the technology bestowed upon the weapon. She quickly conjured her armor and unsheathed her blade.

The armor was a dark almost black blue with a much brighter blue accenting the armor. Around the cheek plates of the armor were whisker like grates and the gloves of the armor were clawed these features are what helped give name to the legendary Nissian warrior of old 'The Cat.’ The armor appeared to be new even though Nylo has used it many times. When it was dematerialized any dents and scratches seemed to disappear. Nylo met the attacker head on. She swung her sword for the attacker’s dagger in an effort to pluck it out of his hand. Nylo was very skilled with her blade but hasn't fought in about two weeks her moves were not as graceful and her swings did not do exactly as she intended. Instead of plucking the dagger out of his hand she had plucked his hand off of the rest of his arm. Nylo flinched at her own action, but she decided to roll with what she had done. The man didn't yell loudly, but the pain he felt was clearly visible. He dropped to the ground where Nylo went to quickly meet him. She clawed her sharp gloved fingers into his neck ending his pain and reddening her ‘claws’. Once she took her claws out of his neck she got up off her knee but as soon as she did so the door behind her was opened and she was quickly grabbed and thrown outside of the rail car. She was now on a metal platform that connected the rail car she was just inside of to the one behind it. She could hear the wind zipping by her. Nylo was not on her feet and her sword was just out of arm's reach. She looked up and seen the man who had thrown her back. The man was also hooded but bigger than the one before. His blade was less conspicuous and much larger. The man could not quickly find an opening or weak point on the armor to stab through so instead opted to pick her up and throw her off the motive.

He grabbed her by the helmet with both his arms. Nylo thought quickly and jammed her clawed thumb into his elbow pit and the rest of her claws made it into the other side of his arm, his elbow. This rendered his arms about useless. She then got up on her feet and used her shoulder to shove him off the fast moving motive. Nylo panted a bit. Her hands were on her knees and she was looking down to the floor. She was taking a breath. Her armor gave her a number of abilities one of which added to her sensory and perception. She could feel that two more of these would be assassins were above her. She looked up and found her senses to be right on point. Two more hooded men were standing above her one on each of the rail cars that were connected by the small platform she was still on. She grabbed her sword and used the rail car behind her to wall jump up onto the top of the rail car and meet the assailants head on. She blocked his first sword strike with her forearm. She then quickly grabbed the sword by the blade using her gloved hand and then she speared the sword into the abdomen of the other assassin who was jumping onto the rail car she was currently on. The force of her sword throw stopped his jump and dropped him to the ground. The one who's sword she took and had thrown was taken aback by her actions. Nylo used this opening and placed her gloved hand on his head. Nylo now utilized another one of the abilities the suit of armor allowed. The Cat's guard allowed her to create and conduct electricity, and she used the ability to hastily electrocute the assassin. That amount of electricity to one's brain if not fatal is very damaging. She took her hand off his head when she did so clear burn marks were visible where her gloved hand had been. His body dropped to the ground and with that Nylo dropped back down to the connecting platform. She could see the station they were departing at now. The man who was dropped by the thrown sword was on the connecting platform still hanging onto life but was sure to lose it in due time. Blood was spilling out from his mouth. The sight disheartened Nylo enough to drive her to end his pain. She carefully but briskly put the tip of the blade through his neck. She thought back to the few that she had just killed. She wasn't sure on who they were or why they were doing this but was sure they wanted Gareth’s life and she had a contract to uphold. 'Evil or not all warriors deserve their due rest,’ she thought to herself. “Rest in peace.” Her words were carried away by the wind.

She walked back into the rail car she was originally in and knocked on the laboratory door. “I took care of the problem Gareth. Who were they and why did they want to kill you,” Nylo said pressed up against the door. She waited a moment for a response but didn't get any. She then opened the door to find Gareth was still in there. Still inside of the bathroom but no longer breathing. Some assassin slipped passed Nylo’s perception and slit Gareth's neck.

The train stopped, and Nylo was processing all of this. Her mind quickly moved to the contract she was supposed to fulfill. She sheathed her sword and dematerialized her armor. She looked at her hand and found the binding seal was still there. Still shimmering and reminding her of the contract she had to fulfill. She had to think quickly the new passengers were about to board onto the rail motive. She grabbed Gareth's body and snuck off the rail motive. The binding seal seemed to bind its contract even in death. She decided to bring his body to the Athenaeum hoping that would end the contract.

The station she was able to sneak away from with Gareth's body bordered the mid sized village and a rainforest. Running deeper into the rainforest while holding Gareth proved to be very tiring for Nylo. The Cat’s Glaive did not bestow any strength enhancing sort of abilities when the armor was not materialized, and even when it was the strength she is given is only nominally higher than her own. The foliage was high and thick making it easy for Nylo to hide Gareth's body. She was going to go into the village to buy a horse that she could use to bring her and Gareth to Hirth. The binding seal won't allow Nylo to use the coins Gareth gave her as payment until her job is complete but the contract didn't speak of using any of Gareth's possessions. She rifled through Gareth's bag and found a suitable amount of money. Nylo decided to be more alert she rematerialized her armor and made her way to the village’s stable.

Once there she looked at the horses and thought about which one would suit her best. The stable owner was glaring at her from afar. Nylo realized it might be her wearing her armor. She started to walk up towards the stable owner. She took off her helmet before she got up to the stable owner. She extended her arm out to the stable owner. She looked at her hand and remember her hand was armored she awkwardly lowered her arm and just waved. None of the that mattered though the stable owner was fixated on her face. His scowl had disappeared now and he was in awe. It was her hair that caught his attention. “Your an elf,” the stable owner stammered over his words. Nylo was confused for a second, but she remembered common people rarely if ever got see elves or demi-elves. A silver haired girl was enough to be looked at as a kin of the surviving elves from the civil war two centuries ago. Nylo maybe looked at as one of those kin, but she is far from any pure blooded Aurea Nissi. The silver hair and red eyes proved to be a dominant trait even when mixed with human blood. Even with this the difference in a demi's ear to that of a pure blooded elves ear was enough for any non-commoner to distinguish the two.

“Many years ago my son was fatally ill. I had nothing to my name but a beautiful Nissian women came to our help and healed my boy. At the time I had no way of paying her back. She insisted that she did what she did for her not us, that she needed no pay. So she made off after my son was fully recovered. Now I own this stable and do quite well for myself. I know you're not her but please take a horse of your choosing free of charge,” the man explained why he was so in awe of her. Nylo nodded at his offer. Nylo was slightly curious with the boy. ‘If she was a truly a Nissian and not just a demi like me then what did she want with the boy. An Aurea Nissian while not inherently malice don't just help any random boy,’ she thought to herself “Thank you, and about your boy where is he?” She asked him. “Oh he grew up to be a noble young man. He's one of the few Westerners to become a knight of the east. Probably the only red headed one at that,” he told her. “Again thank you, thank you so much,” Nylo said as she walked back over to the stable and picked out a horse. Nylo didn't know much about horses. She picked the one with the cleanest mane and hooves. She found the one she picked to be a hardy horse that would be able to endure the hardships he'll have to face even after her current journey. He was a black horse with a white mane. She walked the horse over to the stable owner. “Haha I thought you would pick that one. His name is Randal. Here I'll saddle him up for you,” he said as walked into a shed near by. He came by with the saddle and two bags. He saddled up the horse and properly set up the bags to the saddle. The saddle was ready and able to carrying two persons. Something that was very useful for Nylo in her current situation. “Thank you for your hospitality,” she said as she decided to hug the stable owner. Nylo mounted the horse and rode off back near the rainforest.

Nylo made it back to the outside of the forest much faster with Randal. She hitched Randal to tree and went into the forest to go and get Gareth. She found his now cold body. She sobbed at the site. She didn't know him terribly well, and Nylo wasn't too fond of mage types but she found Gareth to be a bearable adept. She slung Gareth's cold body over her shoulder and made her way back to Randal. She quickly set Gareth on the back of her horse and started to ride towards Hirth away from the rainforest and the village. It took the rest of the day to ride to Hirth by the time she made it to Hirth it was the dead of night making it easy for her to ride into the city with a dead man. There was no polite way to drop of a dead man so she just neatly placed his body on the steps of the Athenaeum. She looked to her hand, the binding seal disappeared. She grabbed the sack of coins she was originally given and opened it she grabbed one of the coins and felt it in her hand. “I kept our agreement,” Nylo awkwardly said to Gareth's cold body. She flipped the coin and landed it on Gareth's forehead. She got up on Randal and started to slowly ride away she looked back at Gareth one last time and gave her last words to him. “Rest in peace.”