#griss reply

[pricesugarwife]

Las chicas bonitas sobreviven a las dictaduras

*enviar*

Adivinen de que país soy

[twistedisciple]

Busy, busy, and yet between the bouts of never ending movement was nevertheless an apportioned stillness. One moment’s reprieve carved from the thick of it all, in no small part due to the bloody events of the cauldron. Not for any worry, of course. 

“Here—for your wound,” Rafal tossed at Griss a roll of gauze in lieu of greeting. He frowned, as he always did, looking not one mote amiss. But what had been the words spoken to him by one mercifully absent Poe? Those that ever mysteriously came to mind in reflection over the night's spontaneity; its quick escalation and quicker drawn blood?

'And I hope you know that I am far from the only one who will not tolerate it, if he decides to escape that leash of yours and find some innocent to sink his fangs into.'

He blinked inscrutably. “You knew what was going to happen, pushing that boy.”

Calmly, he watched Griss, made no move to crane his head and examine his wound - wherever it was amidst all that animal blood. He knew it was there, and if there should be some secondary expectation of censure, the dragon didn’t offer that either.

A neat turn: “The trial is soon. Show up with that wound dressed. I won’t have it reopening, or you bleeding like a dog all over the floor.”

—a stop, frown to smirk.

“You are a knight, aren’t you?”

Griss caught the gift (no, not a gift - a command) in one hand and looked at it. The pain in his shoulder had subsided before it'd even had a chance to fester, thanks to the work of the one dressed ironically like Death, and so he didn't have any reason to complain or fight back. The wound was just a wound now, and one that still needed attention before infection set in. With a grousing groan or a thankful sigh - it was hard to tell - he plopped down on one of the chairs left over from the banquet and began peeling off the stiff, tattered, blood-soaked cloth from his arm.

"Yeah?" He glanced up at the dragon who stood over him like both supervisor and judge. The complacent smile that snaked slowly across his face cracked, but didn't quite break, the expression of businesslike neutrality.

"I just wanted to see how far he'd go, is all." And what kind of injury he'd leave him with, if any. Griss got what he wanted. Once-white cloth ripped free from his sleeve dropped to the ground by his feet, now giving a clear look at one clean gash in the middle of skin stained with blood and ink.

"Self-righteous kids like that think their intentions give 'em some moral high ground, but at the end of the day, they're down here covered in blood just like me." He turned away to examine the wound, prodding around it with clinical interest to see how well the reaper's spell had closed it up. Hidden from Lord Rafal's sight and the teasing smirk that had bled across his face, however, the irreverent look Griss had been wearing faded.

Was he a dog, or was he a knight?

"Anyway, I heard you loud 'n clear. Can't have anyone leaving stains on your cute little party decor, right?" When he looked up again, it was back twofold - a jeering grin and a glint of mischief in the eye. But by now, his lord should have known it was merely for show. He wouldn't pull the leash.

"Sounds like your witch of a co-host is still mad about that handprint. Hahaha!"

After all, he was a mangy hound being called a knight.

[machiot]

@old-scalebag continued from here

Just like that, Marni loses her chance to sneak up on her target. Lord Sombron below, he looks even bigger from the front. Even being lifted up into the air, she barely makes it to eye level! But she isn't one to back down from a challenge.

Unless things aren't in her favor, in which case she will make a tactical retreat. It's called being enterprising.

"? I'm trying to write on your head," Marni says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, waving the marker for emphasis. She thought her intentions were pretty clear here. "Can you stop moving? You're gonna make it hard to write and I'm trying to win a dare here!"

[ruinakete]

A small letter could be find at the threshold of her rooms: it was finely decorated with handmade purplish flowers, with a very quirky drawing of what it seemed like a lizard-like creature - seemingly a wyvern - and at the center of the paper, a brief text written in a hasty calligraphy, almost as if she was in a hurry or as if she was very tense in writing this. The text was the following:

《 The glance you gave me that evening was fulminating: I was raptured by your words and your attention for the most amazing creatures among all animals - wyverns. You are like one of them: alluring, fleeting and majestic. 》

On the back of the letter, a signature; the Red Dragoon Knight [ wanted to send it as anonymous, but I couldn't ; v ; ]

NEVER HAD MAGE DRAGON ENTERED HER DEN WITH CAUTION, at least, not with the degree she held now; standing at the threshold with an unwavering, bland gaze, accentuated with emotion only by the arch of a brow. it could not be a student. there was a specific box she had set up outside her office for letters from students, as most were pity stories to twist at her heart until she lessened the strict drop of their grade; in which, none worked, and the repeated offers ceased whatever patience she held towards her pupils.

so, if not a student━━━or at least, a student who followed her manner of organization━━━then a fellow instructor or sister / brother of the church. possibly. most likely. she would have to waste away her time actually giving the letter her time of day. unfortunate but the promise of frequent downtime had not been in the admittance papers so she ought to not complain.

poised claws raise the letter to her face, lips pursed and throat humming a low grumble; the barest of factors announcing her minimal curiosity. on instinct, zephia's gaze had followed the spaces of the paper, singling out the presses of ink and their curved letters before registering the intricate, yet amusingly quirky decor of flowers and wyverns.

the letter was read in seconds.

the mage dragon's skin reddened after a minute.

she sighed, turning over the paper to divert her attention unto anything else━━━if not the signature placed carefully there. sangria eyes narrowed and her lips twitched into the beginnings of a grimace, a curt disgust so glaringly opposed to the abnormal heat rising to her neck and ears.

that evening? how utterly vague. she spoke to plenty this past week, not to exclude the many others who sought her out at different periods of the day.

You are like one of them: alluring, fleeting, and majestic.

as if she was not one of the closest beings to a pure-blooded wyvern!

the door to her room was slammed shut by her hand, given hardly a glance as zephia gripped onto the letter, half a mind to toss it into a fire. away and gone, it would be! but that only meant evidence of the stranger's advance would be destroyed... no, that wouldn't do. instead, after a trained breath, mage dragon carefully folded the letter and set it on her desk. though the stranger had an acute taste and a highly respectable eye for wyverns, their worship of her would be best in person rather than through ink.

another sigh. she turned from her desk, rubbing at her temple, "lord sombron, give me strength. to be fooled by a glance yet cower behind words... tsk."

[fayesdiary]

17 for the Engage ask game!

17) Who is your least favorite enemy unit?

Ignoring the one-chapter bosses, I'd say probably Zephia.

It's not that she's bad, in fact I believe the has a few interesting things going for her, but at the same time hoo boy, another sexy dark sorceress in a skimpy outfit with arguably a thing for the main villain whose main personality is how much motherly or sisterly they are because that's all female villains can be in this series save for a few outliers. Feminism has never been Fire Emblem's strong suit. #hildasweep

Technically Griss has less going on, but at least Griss is really fun in his scenes and his sadomasochistic shtick hasn't really been done before, while Zephia's archetype is really tripe at this point. Now whether that's tasteful representation of either mental illness or sadomasochism itself given how he's portrayed as pretty much insane, that's a whole other question I don't feel I have the authority to answer. (although if you wanted my opinion anyway, it would be "I really doubt it".)

[fandomgirlz01]

Courageous Gift Pt. 1

Greg Sanders x Reader

Imagine on my fandom Instagram?: Yes/No  

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: Yes/No

Style of Writing: Mini Series 

Rating: PG-13 ~ For fluff and cuteness, but more adult commentary or even some triggering content.

Edited: Yes

Word count: 4,820

Post Date & Time: August 16th 2024 at 2:32 AM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings Here 

Listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}. 

Summary:  Based off of S7 Es4 & 7 When Greg becomes victim to a gang of street thugs that have been beating people all night, the reader is forced to fear the worst for her best friend. 

Reader’s Pov:

I get into work and walk down the many hallways from the parking garage and to the locker room, quickly changing into my work clothes. Just as I start to put my old clothes away, Sara walks in and opens up her locker.  

“Hi, y/n,” she greets me and I smile at her. 

“Hi, Sara,” I greet her back as she turns to smile back at me. 

“Are you doing okay? You look a little tired,” she observes and I sigh, shaking my head. 

“Nah. I’m good, just didn't sleep much last night,” I respond and she purses her lips as I pull out my gun and clip it to my hip. 

“Are you good to work then? I could talk to Griss, see if you can get a bit more sleep,” she wonders and I shake my head, closing my locker. 

“No. It’s okay. He already knows. I called in before and asked if I could come in later. Hence why I’m here now,” I inform her with a shrug and she nods. 

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything,” she offers to me as she rubs my shoulder. 

“Oh yeah, of course. Thank you,” I give my appreciation and she smiles at me. 

“Anytime,” she replies with her own light smile. 

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you later. Gotta get to work,” I inform her and she nods. 

“Yeah, see you later,” she agrees before I walk out of the locker room. 

I walk through the lab’s endlessly long, winding hallways, looking for Grissom to talk to him. I just so happen to catch Greg, who smiles when he sees me and starts to walk up to me, making me smile as I start to walk towards him too.

“Way to go,” our coworker congratulates him as they pass each other and give one another a high five. 

“Thank you,” Greg replies before walking over to me and I smile at him. 

“Well, hello, Mr. Spiffy. Don’t you look nice in that suit and tie,” I remark, crossing my arms and giving a knowing smile. He grins as he pops the side of it. 

“Thank you. I had court today,” he comments with a smug look crossing his face and I nod as I look him over. 

“I know. Your first trial with a jury, how’d it go?” I ask and he grins more if that’s even possible, which with Greg it always is. 

“You remembered,” he practically gushes and I roll my eyes. 

“Of course I remember, Greg. We’ve only been best friends for how many years? Oh yeah, 20 plus years,” I sarcastically remark and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“It went great. I did so good that even the nice lady prosecutor took me to dinner,” he playfully boasts as he beams at me with a grin brighter than the sun as we slowly start to walk again. 

“That’s great, G. I guess I owe you dinner now too,” I offer with my own sly grin, even though there’s a pit of boiling jealousy running through me. 

“Actually, by the time we’re both off you’d probably be buying late breakfast,” he jokes with an eyebrow raise and I giggle. 

“You know what I meant, dumbass,” I deadpan as I lightly hit his arm. 

“Yeah, I did…” he sheepishly admits as he rubs his arm. 

“No, but really. You don’t have to buy me breakfast. If anything, I’ll buy you breakfast,” he argues and I shake my head. 

“Greg. How would that even make sense? Please, just let me treat you?” I beg him, giving him my best puppy eyes that I know he can’t say no to.

“Not the puppy eyes… and you bought the pizza on Friday,” he groans out in displeasure, shielding his eyes and I grin. 

“Yeah, but it’s not every day my best friend survives his first day in court with a jury,” I joke with him and he shakes his head as he finally looks at me again while letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Greg… y/n. Good, I need both of you,” Grissom calls out to us as he comes out of his office holding a clipboard and we look at one another before walking over to him together. 

“Lose the monkey suit, you’ve got a scene: liquor store robbery. Here’s the address,” he informs Greg, looking him up and down before handing Greg a paper. 

“Awe man, I like the monkey suit,” I playfully whine and Greg lets out a chortle, shaking his head. 

“Well, too bad. He can’t go on a scene like that,” Grissom notes in humor as he looks at me over his glasses. 

“Is it related to the earlier 415s?” Greg inquires as he looks at the address. 

“Could be— Sofia’s got one of the suspect’s sweaters,” Grissom answers as he scratches at his ear. 

“I need you to seal it, bring it back here and anything else you can find,” Grissom explains, pointing at Greg, who nods as he listens intently. 

“All right. Who’s my wingman? Is it y/n?” Greg asks in excitement as he smiles at me. 

“You're a big boy, Greg. You don’t need a wingman for this,” Grissom pointedly answers, giving him a judgmental fatherly look and I turn to Greg with a grin. 

“Y/n, may I please see you in my office?” Grissom asks and I nod at him before he turns around and walks into it. 

“Primary. Nice,” Greg comments with a light smirk as he hits the paper against his hand like he always does. 

“Good luck out there, G. Be safe, yeah?” I ask him and he smiles, nodding. 

“Of course. I promise,” he replies before opening his arms for a hug. 

I smile back, taking a step forward and wrapping my arms around his torso, squeezing him affectionately. He wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head lightly on top of mine. I turn my head and nuzzle my nose into his neck, melting into him for a moment as all my tiredness comes flooding over me. 

“Hey. You doing okay?” he asks as he starts to pull back from the hug, but I pull him back in. 

“Just hold me for a second,” I mutter out, holding him a little tighter. 

“Sure, I can do that,” he whispers softly as I relish in the tranquility that he provides me with. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, fruit loop?” he asks me when I finally pull back from the hug and I purse my lips. 

“I’m fine, poohbear. I just…” I pause, biting at my lip and he grabs my hand. 

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m here for you through whatever, you know that,” he tentatively rubs his thumb on the back of my hand and I sigh. 

“I’m having sleep problems again…” I relent hesitantly and he reverently nods. 

“I figured. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks and I shake my head. 

“I thought I could handle it…” I admit while refusing to look at him and he sighs. 

“Well, now I’m definitely coming over and you're buying me breakfast,” he jokingly remarks and I look up at him in shock before smiling softly when I only see care written all over his face. 

“You got yourself a deal. I’ll see you in the morning then?” I ask him in a hopeful tone and he smiles, nodding as he gives my hand one last squeeze. 

“I’ll meet you at your apartment?” he questions with another raised eyebrow and I squeeze his hand back. 

“Okay. I’ll see you then,” I agree, nodding and he gives one last nod before backing up while slowly letting go of my hand. 

I shake my head as I feel a blush coming on, but I do my best to hide it. He walks away all the while walking backwards and I shake my head, holding back a giggle as he snaps his fingers before giving me finger guns. It’s only when he disappears that I let out a sigh before turning and walking into Grissom’s office. 

Third Person Pov:

After saying goodbye to y/n, Greg quickly went to change out of his suit and into his work overalls before heading out to his SUV to drive out to the scene. As he drives down the streets of Las Vegas, following the directions on his GPS, he passes an alleyway and sees a glimpse of something strange. In confusion, he stops his car and backs up to look in the alleyway. He rolls his window down and hears grunting and groaning coming from the end of the alley as dark figures all seem to stand over another. Quickly, he picks up his radio and holds the button down for a moment. 

“Control, control. This is CSI Sanders. I need some help,” he speaks into it before letting go of the button. 

“Control, go with your information,” the dispatcher replies and he quickly turns his head back to the scene. 

“Okay. I got an assault in progress. One alley south of Casino drive, cross street Shane,” he recites as he leans forward a bit to look at the sign. 

“How many suspects involved?” The dispatcher questions as she gets ready to take the information down. 

“Multiple, could be the guys who’ve been doing it all night,” Greg continues to relay information and he pauses as he waits anxiously. 

“The closest unit has a five-minute ETA. Rolling code three. Are they armed?” she asks. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know. Ma’am, please, listen. You got to get here quicker than this,” he begs into the walkie talkie as he helplessly watches the group beat the poor person. 

“Copy that. We’ll roll two additional units ASAP. Wait for backup,” the dispatcher replies and the radio goes silent. 

Greg takes in a breath as he thinks for a split second before putting his SUV back into drive. He quickly backs the car up before pulling into the alleyway and driving down it while honking his horn. 

“Move!” he shouts as he gets closer to the group while still honking his horn. 

He hits his siren a couple of times while honking as he gets closer. It’s not until he gets a little closer that a lot of the suspects start to move away from the person on the ground, all running in different directions. 

“Hey, get out of here!” he yells out at them as he waves his hand. 

One of the suspects stays and continues to kick the victim on the ground. Greg comes to a stop and gives a long honk of his horn at the suspect, but the man just keeps kicking. Finally, he turns around and looks Greg right in the face. Greg is in shock when he sees the guy's eyes are stark white, before fear races through him as the guy quickly rushes over to his right and picks up a rock. At first he moves his hand back like he’s going to bash the victim's head open, but then he turns to Greg and starts to run towards him. 

He pulls his arm back as he runs at Greg, who watches in slow motion as he gets closer and closer, seeming like he’s going to throw the rock at Greg through the windshield. Greg makes a split second decision and puts his foot down on the gas ever so slightly, revving the engine just a bit to make the car jolt forward. The guy continues to run at Greg and the car meets the guy in the middle. The guy and the car collide, making him hit the hood before falling to the ground as Greg stops the car to take a moment to calm down. Then all of a sudden, the back window breaks with a resounding crash, making Greg turn to look behind himself, but he sees nothing behind him so he calms once again. 

The calm is short lived though, because his driver's side window is next to be broken. He doesn’t have time to turn and find the source seeing as arms reach in. He fights the arms for a good minute, but he loses the battle and gets pulled out of the driver's side window. He continues to fight the one attacker off, but all the others that he’d chased off come back. He continues to try and fight back, but the group is so big that they easily overpower him. 

They slam him up against a fence and then suddenly in a blur he’s on the floor. He tries to crawl away, but they’re relentless and just keep kicking and hitting him. Slowly everything starts to become distorted and the world spins. One of the suspects turns him over onto his back and all he can really tell is that they laugh before one of them spits on him. Even in his hazy mind frame, Greg still tries to think of anything he can do to make it easier to find them, so as one of them steps over him while going to walk away, Greg reaches up and scratches his ankle. The last thing Greg sees before blacking out is a car side swiping his as it drives away. 

Reader’s Pov:

After my talk with Grissom, I shake my head as I go on a hunt for Sara. Grissom decided that until I can get my insomnia in check, I’m not allowed in the field alone so he’s assigned me to her side or Nick’s side seeing as they’re head senior CSIs. Admittedly I’m not too thrilled with it, but I totally understand why and at least I’m still allowed in the field. It’s only a few minutes until I find her right where Grissom told me she’d be. I find her in the recreation lab standing at one of the tables, writing something down.

��Oh, hi. Long time no see,” she jokingly greets me for the second time today as she looks up from some paperwork on the table. 

“Hi. Did Griss inform you?” I ask her and she pauses as if to think. 

“No. I don’t think he did,” she answers my question with a shake of her head and I sigh. 

“I’m on suspended duty,” I inform her and she gives a small “ahh.” 

“You’re officially on babysitting y/n duty. Well, you and Nicky. I’m not allowed to go to any scenes without either of you,” I continue to explain and she smiles softly. 

“Don’t think of it as me babysitting you. Think of it as just two girls working together,” she remarks with a reassuring smile and I shrug. 

“Still don’t like not being able to work on my own. I’m a level three CSI. I should be okay,” I begrudgingly tell her as I cross my arms and she chuckles, shaking her head. 

“Griss is just looking out for you. You know that,” she points out and I sigh. 

“I know, I just—” I start to confide, but cut myself off. 

“You know what, forget it. What are you working on?” I ask her as I shake out of my daze and walk around the table. 

“Okay…” she skeptically agrees as she seems to watch me closely for a moment. 

“I’m trying to find out how many different shoe patterns we have,” she explains as she finally turns back to the table and lifts a shoe imprint up. 

“So far I’ve found about three shoes and matched them in the solemate database. Griss wants me to see if I can match any of the others,” she finishes explaining as she holds up a paper with the shoe print and all its information on it. 

“Want some help?” I ask with a timid smile and she smiles, nodding. 

“You know what? That would actually be so great. I have over ten more to match,” she grins as she picks up a pair from the side of the room and holds them out for me to see. 

“Get kickin,” she jokes as she hands me the pair and I laugh. 

“Aye aye, captain,” I jokingly salute her before sitting on one of the stools to switch out shoes as she laughs, shaking her head. 

“Phew, I could use some water,” Sara comments through labored breath after we finish the last three kicks. 

Together we worked on each taking different pairs of shoes and kicking the dummy. So far we’ve each done about three pairs of shoes and seem to be half way done. 

“I know. That was so much work,” I pant out as I walk over and grab a towel off the table. 

I long ago discarded my top and now stand in only my tank top along with a pair of sweats I’d gotten from my locker after the first set of shoes. I start to wipe at the nape of my neck as she walks over and picks up her water bottle.  

“Tell me about it. I haven’t worked out since—” I start, but she holds up a finger as she picks up her ringing phone from the table. 

“Hold that thought, it’s Sofia,” she informs me as she answers the phone. 

“Isn’t she with Greg?” I ask, but only receive a nod in response. 

My brows furrowed in confusion as she talks to Sofia for a few minutes before her face falls and she’s quickly nodding while promising we’ll be there soon. She quickly hangs up before slowly looking at me and something feels off about her look. 

“Go get your safety vest and gear,” she commands in a very serious tone and I give her a confused look. 

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” I ask her and she sighs, putting her phone in her pocket. 

“Okay. Ahh. Here, sit down for just a second,” she tells me as she pulls the small stool out from underneath the work bench. 

“Ah, okay. Sara, please just tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me,” I beg her and she sighs, squeezing her eyes closed. 

“Listen. I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. I’m just going to tell you straight, okay?” she asks with a questioning look on her face. 

“Okay. Just tell me…” I reply with a light nod and she sighs again. 

“Greg’s been hurt in the field,” she blurts out and immediately everything comes crashing down. 

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Okay. It’s okay,” she panics as I lightly fall back and she catches me. 

“Bad idea to sit you on a stool,” she sarcastically comments more to herself than me as she rolls her eyes. 

“I’m okay. I promise. Is he okay? Sara, tell me he’s okay,” I beg her while squeezing her hand and she sighs. 

“Honestly, I don’t know. I just told Sofia that you and I would be there as soon as we could get there,” she informs me and I immediately hop off the stool. 

“Let’s go then,” I declare as I rush past her, not giving her a moment to reply. 

I quickly race to the locker room with Sara right behind me and open my locker as fast as I can. I pull my vest out and slip it on over my tank top, not caring to change, pulling the velcro straps tight. Then I grab my gun and clip it into its holster before turning to Sara, who now has her vest and gun too. 

“Ready to go?” she asks me and I nod. 

“As ready as ever,” I mutter before we both quickly make our way to her car. 

After we get into the car, she turns it on and makes quick work of pulling out. She turns on her sirens, making the drive much quicker. Soon before I know it, she pulls up just at the edge of the alley way and I’m already unbuckling. She doesn’t even fully get out herself before I’m rushing forward, pushing through all the people that officers hold off. I see Sofia as she talks to some lady. 

She looks up at me for a moment and my heart drops when she gives me a frown, making me stop in my tracks just as Sara catches up. I stand frozen, my mind going a hundred miles as Sara lightly grabs onto my arm and squeezes for a moment, effortlessly breaking me out of my practically catatonic state. She starts to continue her walk, almost pushing me along and we meet up with Sofia. 

“Hey,” Sara greets her as we push past the scene tape with Sofia now following us. 

We finally make it around the ambulance and find three on the ground. I let out a quiet gasp when I see Greg laying on the ground, almost peacefully, and for a moment the world starts to spin. 

“Why isn’t there a medic on Greg?” Sara asks Sofia as she grabs onto my arm to stabilize me when she sees me sway a bit. 

“He’s been stabilized, Sara. Y/n, he’s going to be okay,” Sofia promises as we continue to walk over to him and she splits off from us. 

We both bend down next to him and Sara grabs onto his hand. I reach forward and rub at his head as tears make their way to my eyes. As I touch him, he breathes out and I choke back my tears. 

“Y/n… Sara,” he faintly speaks to us and I nod at him. 

“We’re here, Poohbear. We’re right here with you,” I tell him as I comb through his hair with my fingers. 

“I didn’t think you could see us,” Sara softly adds with sad humor lacing her voice and more tears well up in my eyes. 

“I can’t… but I know y/n’s touch… and that Sidle scent,” Greg replies and I let out a wet giggle as tears start to fall now. 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she replies to him with a light chuckle before looking at me and I continue to try and hold my tears at bay. 

“I scratched one of them…” Greg coughs out and Sara lifts the hand she holds when he moves it ever so slightly. 

“And you should check my vest. I think the same guy spit on me,” Greg continues to explain and I rub his head more in hopes of comforting him while frowning. 

“And one of their cars crashed into the Denali,” he informs us and Sara looks up for a moment as I choke back more tears. 

“I guarantee there's transfer on it,” he adds on through his slurred, tired words and I continue to rub at his head. 

“You should process the scene now. Me later,” Greg mutters out to us and I shake my head as I hold back a sad chuckle at the thought of him still being a CSI at heart, no matter what. 

“We came here for you, Greg,” Sara tells him as tears make way to her eyes now too. 

“Oh, Poohbear. You don’t have to be a CSI all the time,” I giggle out though my tears as I shake my head and Sara shakes her head, chuckling herself. 

“Leave it to Greg,” she comments and I smile softly. 

We sit with him for a few minutes and the whole time I have to remind myself I can’t move Greg until he’s processed. It’s hard when I just wanna cuddle and hold him in my arms. Nick soon shows up and Sara stands to go talk to him. I'm assuming she relays what Greg had told us before she walks back over to us, bending back down. 

“Okay, Nicky’s going to get the evidence around us started. I’m going to collect evidence from Greg, then the paramedics will take him to the hospital. I’m assuming you want to go with him?” she informs me before asking her question and I nod, sniffing. 

“Umm, yeah. I'm gonna go with him,” I reply as I continue to lightly scratch at his scalp and she nods, rubbing between my shoulder blades lightly for a moment. 

“Ok. I'm just going to get some stuff from Nicky’s kit. I’ll be right back,” she informs me and I nod at her, not having the will to speak as my throat gets tighter and tighter. 

“I’m okay, fruit loop. Promise,” Greg whispers out, giving a small wince of a smile after she leaves and let out another wet laugh. 

“I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, doofus,” I snarkily reply as I sniffle, reaching up to wipe at a lone tear that falls. 

“Yeah, but I hate when you cry,” he whispers out again and I choke back more tears. 

“G. Don’t think about me right now. Stop talking, save your energy,” I insist as I continue to rub his scalp and he gulps a bit before nodding. 

I sit with him for another few minutes before Sara walks back over. She has a few things in her hands as she bends down again. She opens one of the swabs, using it to get some of the spit off of him before pushing it back in the tube and closing the lid. 

“Okay. The rest of processing will have to be at the hospital. So I’ll, uh… meet you there I guess,” she informs me with a shrug and I only nod at her. 

“Okay. You guys are good to take him then,” she calls out over my shoulder and soon the paramedics are walking over. 

I stand up and Sara holds me in a hug as I keep my stare locked on him. They roll a stretcher over and they quickly but carefully move Greg onto it. He groans for a moment at the initial movement, but soon he’s calm again. They start to roll him to the ambulance and Sara lets go of me. 

“Fruit loop?” he calls out almost meekly as he moves his head, looking for me. 

“I’m right here, Poohbear. I’m coming with you,” I softly promise him and he reaches his hand out to me. 

I hesitate, not wanting to ruin any evidence that might be on him, but I feel a hand on my back, making me look at Sara. She smiles softly at me for the millionth time today as she rubs my shoulder ever so slightly. 

“You can hold his hand. It’s okay. It won’t ruin any of the evidence, I promise,” she tells me and I shake my head, letting out a quiet choke and she nods at me. 

“It’s okay. Really,” she continues to prompt me, lifting my arm to his. 

I hesitantly grab onto his hand and it seems he relaxes ever so slightly, making my hesitation quickly fade. I squeeze his hand, letting him know I’m there and look up to nod my thanks to Sara as she just smiles softly back. 

“I’ll meet you there, okay?” she asks in a very calming tone. I only nod as I watch over Greg’s face that’s full of black and blue bruises as everything seems to fade out of my mind. 

The ride as well as the arrival to the hospital is all hazy now as I sit in the main lobby. I wait anxiously for Sara and Brass as they finish processing and questioning Greg. I groan, bringing my hands up to rub my face as my leg shakes in anticipation. Finally after what seems like forever, Sara and Brass turn the corner and start down the hall. 

“Y/n. He’s ready for you to go on in,” Sara tells me as she comes up and sits down next to me. 

“He’s actually asking for you,” Brass adds on with a light smile. 

“I can take you to his room before going to help Warrick and Nicky if you’d like,” Sara offers as I blink up at her before nodding. 

She holds an arm out for me and I stand on shaky legs. Brass gives me a warm fatherly hug and rubs my head before saying a quick “bye,” as well as promising to catch the guys that did this. Sara and I start to walk, her leading me mindlessly through the halls. 

“His room is just around this corner,” she informs me and I freeze, making her stop to turn to me. 

“Y/n?” she asks and I stay frozen. 

“I don’t know if I can go in, Sara,” I tell her with a gulp as tears well up. 

“Y/n. He’s okay. You’re okay. Everyone is okay. He needs you. He needs your comfort,” she sympathizes with me and I sniffle before standing straight. 

“Ok. You're right, take me to him. I’m ready now,” I tell her with a determined nod and she smiles softly before turning to start walking to his room again. 

To Be Continued…

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[mauvehound]

"MAUVIER!"

Marni's demanding voice pierces through the ballroom and she stops in front of the poor man with her hands on her hips. A dangerous smile is on her lips; a sure sign of disaster on the horizon coming from a chronic troublemaker.

"I need you to lift me up. You see the big guy over there, Mauvier?" She points extremely openly to a rather tall mustachioed man. "I need to write something on his head in exchange for tricking Griss into eating a sweet bun."

Augh, but this is Mauvier they're talking about, famous stick in the mud! He hardly ever does what she wants! What to do, what to do...

She does have one thing at her disposal, however.

"If you do, I'll give you AND Lady Veyle my brooch or whatever!"

(no pressure to reply if you're too busy for the ball, just wanted this sent for posterity haha)

"..."

Originally, Mauvier had no intention of participating in the ball in any formal capacity. These types of occasions are simply not for him - he is not one for balls and celebrations, he does not feel comfortable in a large group, and others are likely to not feel great near him either, causing him to simply kill the mood. For those reasons and more, he keeps to himself and lets others have their fun.

But, having finished all of his duties, he found himself with nothing else to do, and so he thought to simply... peek in and see how everything is going, see if anyone needs help, make sure Lady Veyle, Divine One and others are well. Get in, get out and move on, right?

And yet, mere minutes after he found a corner to stand and observe the fun, he is being dragged into a Situation by none other than Marni.

"You need to do what now?..."

Normally, Mauvier would excuse himself from these sorts of shenanigans, and he can see that Marni expects him to try. The promise of a brooch for himself means little to him, though for Lady Veyle... he could do a favor.

But above all else, after the everything that they had gone through, he finds himself struggling to say no to her, even for something like this.

And so, he merely sighs. The tall man she had pointed to happens to be alone and unoccupied for the moment, so Mauvier approaches him and clears his throat.

"Okay, well..."

"Hold still for a moment..."

[h0ney-gl0ws]

I loved reading the griss one, so hear am I going to request an one shot with Diamant where his s/o got taken alongside his father and him going to the rescue to find s/o badly injured and knocked out about to be used as sacrifice to the fell dragon please?

Hello! I’m so glad you liked the Griss one! Comments like that make it more motivating to write. I like this idea and hope I did it justice for you! Thank you so much for being patient by the way!

Just as a heads up guys, my writing posts may be a bit sparse this month as I am very busy, but feel free to keep sending in requests, just know it may take me a bit longer to write them!

Anyways, onto the story! Enjoy reading and be mindful of the content warnings!

Word Count (Approx):1,763

Content Warnings: Spoilers for chapter 10 of fire emblem engage, Character death, blood, angst

Diamant can hardly focus on the area around him as his mind races with the terrible possibilities of what might have happened. He told his father not to go out there, he told you—— no it was his fault. He should’ve been more forceful, he shouldn’t have let you out of his sight. If only you had listened to him, but there’s no time for “What ifs” not when you are in danger.

“Where have you hidden King Morion, as well as Y/n?” The divine dragon says, cutting Diamant out from from his own thoughts.

“All will be known in due time.” King Hyacinth says with an eerie tone.

“Tell us—now!” Alear demands.

Prince Alfred cuts in, “Look, over there! There are people besides the altar!”

The party gauges the figures. Diamant feels relief wash over him at the sight of his father’s frame. Although the second figure causes him to worry again. Your limp body draped across the floor. He cannot tell if you are breathing from where he stands.

“Can it be…Diamant, it’s Father—he’s alive!” Alcryst exclaims.

However, King Morion has not turned around to acknowledge his sons. Diamant has a bad feeling about this, yet he calls out anyways, “Don’t worry! We’re here to save you both!”

Again…nothing….

“Somethings wrong….”

With uneven shaky steps, King Morion stumbles around. Diamant’s heart sinks in terror as inhuman glowing red eyes stare back at him. No… He can hear his own heart pounding.

The corrupted King Morion lets out a blood curdling roar.

“Father!” Diamant didn’t even register that he had spoke, until the divine dragon was finishing his sentence.

“He’s been…” The room falls silently. The reality of the situation sinking in as the opposing sides glare at one another.

King Hyacinth tuts, “It appears you were a few moments too late. As you can see, the ritual has been carried out.”

Rage takes over Diamant’s fear. What right did this man have to take away not only his father, but you as well? “Hyacinth… You bastard!” He practically growls out.

“We have to leave at once, Alear. Call a retreat without delay.” Marth’s calm voice speaks up.

“We cant!” She replies.

“King Morion is beyond our aid…”

“What do you mean? You would have us…leave our own father behind? I cannot! I will not abandon him here!” Alcryst cries.

“The only option is to fight Hyacinth, and even if father is—is…“ Diamant can’t even bring himself to say it, if he says it then it becomes real..he has to accept it, so he can’t, no, he wont let that happen. “She could still be alive! If there’s a chance, I won’t flee especially after…after what he has done!”

“Diamant! Alcryst….” Alear says.

“Foolish, but I am not a bit surprised.” King Hyacinth says. With a tilt of his head the large doors to the cathedral shut. Leaving them trapped inside, “This grand cathedral will serve as your grave. Thanks to your impetuousness, you brought the rings unto my very hand.”

“So be it, Hyacinth…now we fight!”

The divine dragon’s troops rush in against King Hyacinth’s corrupted. While Diamant’s nature is surely shaken, he has to appear strong. For Alcryst, for father, for you… He has to continue to fight. He knows what he must do.

By the orders of the divine dragon, they are able to push through the corrupted. Slashing apart all who dare to get in his way. Letting those who’s rest was disturbed return to the peaceful confines of death. Diamant wonders if all of those who were corrupted were like his father. If so, he will do them the favor of setting their souls free, in order to protect the ones of which he loves.

At least up until….King Morion, Father… stood before him. He has a clear shot. The perfect opportunity to end his father’s misery. As he looks into the glowing eyes of his father, or rather the empty husk of what used to be his father…he froze. Memories start to flash before his eyes, the day he got his first lance, the time he got hurt after his magic lesson, when mother died….His father was there for all of it. His father made those memories better. Diamant’s not ready to let that go. He never got to say all the things he wanted to say, and now he never will.

Diamant’s stance falters, his lance falling below his waist. King Morion stumbles forward a step, then another, until he was charging up for a blow. Raising his weapon, and letting out a guttural cry. Do something Diamant… do something!

Fwoosh! An object whizzes past Diamants head, hitting his father right in the chest. Sending the corrupted king down. Diamant whips around to see his brother, lowering his bow. Glossy eyes threatening to have tears spill over.

“Go Diamant, I’ll handle father, you have to get to Y/n!” Alcryst begins in a shaky voice, “If we can’t save father, at least save her! We’ll cover you!”

Diamant nods dumbly before shaking his head. Now is not the time for him to lose focus. He scans the cathedral. Forces are fighting everywhere. Luckily none seem to be focusing on him. HIs eyes trail over to where he last saw your body. You’re still there. No one is around, now’s his chance. He runs as fast as his legs can carry him over to where you are laying.

Falling to his knees as he arrives next to you. He cups your body lifting you to his lap. The sight of you causes his heart to stop. You have a large wound on your head with a large amount of blood spilling down onto your face from it. Your hair is matted and has copious amounts of dried blood in it as well. Your eyes are closed and the worst part, Diamant can’t hear your breathing.

He chokes back the need to sob, instead hugging you close pressing his face into your chest. He tries to calm his shaky breaths, willing that by the divine dragon herself that this isn’t happening. Despite the raging bloodshed around him, in the heat of the moment it is just you and him, and Diamant thinks for a moment his ears are playing tricks on him as he hears the faintest….beat of your heart. He pulls back, trying not to get his hopes up, he examines you further…could it be? Your breathing! It’s the most shallow, strained breaths Diamant has ever seen, but you’re not dead, and that’s all that matters to him.

“My love, don’t worry, we are going to get you out of here. You are going to be okay, I promise. Please just hold on. That’s all you need to do darling. I swear, King Hyacinth won’t get away with what he did to you and…father. Just hang on.” Diamant whispers to your unconscious self, his fear being replaced with anger.

Between King Hyacinth, The fell dragon, and the four hounds, the next moments went by in a blur. They went by so fast, they lost so much in only a few moments. King Morion, the emblem rings, not to mention you were in critical condition. There was no choice but to fall back.

Tensions were high back at the Somniel. Everyone is in a state of distress after what went down at the cathedral. Diamant hasn’t had much time to check in on the divine dragon, and Alcryst’s usual hiding away tendencies have increased tenfold, but right now Diamant’s full focus has been on you.

You’ve been residing in the somniel’s infirmary. Jean, Celine, and the other healers that reside around the somniel have around have been doing all they can to stabilize your condition. Diamant has rarely left your side. He often sleeps in the chamber where you are being kept, and only ever really leaves when Jean shoos him out. For quite a small kid he can really be forceful when he needs to be.

And yet even though a week has passed you have still not woken up.

“Her condition has gotten better since we first got her.” The small doctor-in-training says.

“Do you think she’ll be waking up soon?” Diamant asks.

“She’s…getting better, you should just focus on that for the time being.”

Diamant thanks Jean before stepping into your chambers again. You look a lot more peaceful now that your wounds have started healing steadily. Color has returned to your face, and you could almost be mistaken for simply being sleeping rather than severely injured. In all honesty to Diamant, you look like a goddess. Which is why seeing you this way is all the more painful.

Diamant quietly steps over the bed you are laying on. He grasps your hand within his own, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles, “Hello, again darling. Did you miss me? I miss you…every day. The Divine Dragon has been in a state of disarray since the incident, she’s angry, and scared. Frankly, I think were all a bit scared, Lord Sombron has our emblem ring after all, and…father’s gone. A man who thought himself to be invincible…it’s frightening. Alcryst hasn’t spoken to me, I’m not sure if he’s spoken to anyone for a while now. The whole father thing has really taken a toll on him…I wish I was stronger in that moment. Maybe then I would’ve been the one to take father down, and Alcryst wouldn’t have to carry that burden. Or maybe if we were just faster, father would still be here, and you would be awake…..

Please wake up Darling, I cant do this without you….Please” Diamant sighs, silent tears slipping down his face as he presses his face against you. Trying to get any sense of comfort from back when you were awake…

…”D-Diamant?”

[emblematicemblazer]

World building and theories of Engage

Sombron; The father figure

Sombron plays the role of the absent father, the kind of father who leaves the minority of the parenting to the mother figure; Zephia. In Engage it is Zephia that punishes Veyle and the Four Hounds when they fail or disobey and with Possessed Veyle is the one to reward them. None of the Four Hounds are seen speaking directly to Sombron, it is Zephia that passes on his opinions and instructions. The Four Hounds are made up of his most loyal followers, just like his biological children, they are tools to be used and discarded. He believes that his biological children owe them their love and dedication; the Four Hounds fulfil that role when he only has one of his biological children left with him.

Marni's eagerness for praise makes her believe that love is shown when Sombron does not punish them for failing him by losing Emblem Rings. In Chapter 19: The Dead Town, Zephia describes his reaction.

 “In fact, no. It was a scolding, nothing more. He impressed upon me the gravity of our role.“

Marni is delighted with this response and replies with:

 “That's all? Huh! He must really love us. Feels good to be appreciated!“

Her desperation for praise from an absent father figure makes her misconstrue what should be a terrifying warning, especially when you consider how he punished his biological children, as something positive. 

Griss‘s relationship with Sombron is that of a son trying to be seen as good enough. Sombron is literally draining the life out of him, letting him harm himself in order to sate his hunger. In Chapter 23: The Four Hounds, he describes to Zephia how he hoped that all the pain he gave to Sombron would be good enough. How he offered his pain to Sombron is mentioned in Mauvier's support conversation with Gregory, (this conversation is censored in the English translation), he describes how Griss would harm himself to feed blood to Sombron. It is a relationship where Sombron takes while Griss has mistranslated pain as love.

Mauvier is the son that is tolerated. He is tolerated because he is the knight of Lady Veyle. His loyalty to the real Veyle means that he will protect her and reluctantly obey the Possessed version. While he is useful to Sombron, he will be tolerated. Mauvier is a follower of the Fell Dragon but he is not brainwashed, rather he obeys because he is fearful for his own and Veyle's safety. Another reason he obeys is because he has spent a life accustomed to doing as he was told and having religion forced upon him without the ability to choose. It is difficult to break out of compliance especially when he is surrounded by the devout, he could be killed which would leave Veyle with no one.

Finally his biological daughter is a means to an end, that is why her kind and caring true nature is intolerable and an inconvenience to him. Kindness means that Veyle has a conscience and would hesitate to obey him or be deviant. Chapter 16: Seashore Travels, is an example of how her kindness puts her at odds with her father's plans. 

 “I've decided that I won't harm anyone, ever. Even if it costs me my life. So I am not going back to Papa. I don't want to destroy this world.“ 

If she is not obedient to him then she is no use to him. Between Chapters 21: The Return and 22: The Fell and the Divine, Sombron tries to kill her when he realises that she is not possessed. He has no feelings for either of the two Veyle's. He does not hate or love her, rather he needs her abilities and powers to achieve his aims, he is as neutral to her as though she is a hammer that once the nail has been secured, he would throw it away. He doesn't understand why a child of his wouldn't owe him “their life, love, their absolute dedication.“ (Chapter 24: Recollections)

[revelale]

🥂 "Guess where the Divine Dragon goes, his followers... follow." Griss lifts his chin and makes the threat with his eyes, widening as he fixes Pandreo with a stare down the length of his nose. "Not thinking of converting the good people of this land now are you? 'cause that's gonna be a problem." Specifically for Zephia.

welcome to the afterparty!

well, ain't that a familiar voice? not an entirely unwelcome one, mind, though he has to say he's pretty surprised to be hearing from the guy at all. stranger yet, is that pandreo isn't seeing the guy barreling directly into the line of fire, convinced inexplicably that he could really make paper ( tome ) beat scissors ( sword ). or, you know. in a grave. "clever," pandreo quips in reply, chuckling a little as he turns the stem of his champagne flute in hand. griss wasn't flinging spells at him either, so should he take this as a non-hostile situation? probably? definitely, right?

probably. he'd gotten the gist more or less from the others.

just as well. it wasn't anything personal, as unpersonal as you can make people trying to revive the fell dragon and plunge your world into darkness. but, if the divine one could forgive the fine lady, then pandreo can forget by example.

well, maybe it was just arrogant of him to think that he had to forgive anything.

"i didn't technically follow the divine one out here, but i guess it could look like that." the misstep in her gender goes over his head. pandreo, instead, has to wonder briefly if that was how he came across when he'd stumbled into her earlier, but a problem for later pandreo to contend with. would've hardly been the first time he'd gone and embarrassed himself, anyway. "what's with everyone thinking that i'm here to convert people?" pause. he looks down at his robes, then looks up again. maybe he should've worn something else to this function.

"can't it just be that i'm here to offer a helping hand? what about you? here to," he gestures vaguely. convert? maim? "well, you're here in one piece."

[pricesugarwife]

El domingo 28 de Julio saldré a defender mi país con MI VOTO. Luego de 25 años de dictadura, digo que nos quitaron tanto que incluso nos quitaron el miedo.

QUIERO UN PAÍS LIBRE Y DEMOCRÁTICO!

Oren por nosotros, oren por mi país.

[twistedisciple]

[ Fashion Police ] - What in the world is that person wearing, and are you fit to be judging them for it? Or are you instead the culprit in question?

"That's a nice outfit you've got on, pal. I know the struggle; shirts aren't cheap. But hey, real creative of you to use a fishing net instead! Know where I can get one for myself?"

Oh, this guy's huge. Probably bigger than Mauvier even with the blocky armor. Griss had watched him walk all the way over here, but it wasn't until he was in the man's shadow, craning his neck back to look him in the face that he finally felt like he was looking up into the trees. He could stand and reclaim some of the difference for himself, but it wouldn't matter much, so instead Griss reclines nonchalantly in his chair, arms hanging loosely on either side.

"Now that's an idea." His eyes light up at the suggestion and he tilts his head. "You got any nets on hand? The coarser the better. I'll cut you out a shirt that'll give ya all kinds of blisters."

It's not a threat, even though for Griss the line between threat and conversation is a thin one. The excitement in his smile says something else: that he's met someone who understands the necessity of unending penance, and the value of a hair shirt to achieve that end. He plucks at the sheer mesh of his own thin shirt and shakes his head with disappointment.

"This one's too soft. Besides--" This time he waves a hand at the man's six (eight?) chiseled blocks of muscle on display for the whole ballroom to see. "--you wanna get kicked out or something? Thought they made you wear shirts for events like these."

[didsomeonesayventus]

Dropping the word 'wish' for the guessing game...make me suffer

“You’re close to him.” She replied, “No doubt he’s spoken to you of his wishes, dreams, memories.” She paused. “Confessed to you. Laid guilt at your feet when seeking reassurance.” “What guilt would he even have?” Alcryst huffed.  A thing he knew was not true. He had seen Alear’s face wear with shadows and age in the shadowy moors. The way it broke like pieces in a mosaic when Griss had taunted him of his origin, the way he almost tore the mantle from his shoulders with shame for a deceit that had even fooled him. After the war, amidst the sweet adoration and bliss of their blossoming love, the way he had wept at Alcryst’s feet to admit that, for so long, he had blamed himself for the loss of his father. The grief the poor prince had to endure was taken with the same somber resignation that Alear bore so many other burdens with. Alear felt guilt. He felt it so keenly, so sharply, but he was not guilty.

fanfic WIP game but surprisingly hard to find a bit for this one and I think this is the angstiest passage I can offer with the word in there

[yanderefairyangel]

What do you think of people's take to rewrite Engage ?

I think they are surprinsgly creative and it's interesting but overall I am not often a big fan of them when they change the story too much or not really respecting the idea behind a scene, especially as fixing a scene in Engage is really easy since there isn't much to fix.

Like for example, I can't recall where I heard it (I think it's on ytb) but someone tried to rewrite chapter 20 so that Alear would have an an exisential crisis but they went a bit too far when it's actually very easy to rewrite.

Have Griss drop the nuke, Alear doubt, summon Sigurd, ask him. Sigurd answer like in the game and upon hearing that, Alear runs away. We find them outside, and they end up crying and expressing their confusion seeing their dream of becoming a hero being threatened by the reveal of their birth, that they weren't their mother's live, that she sacrificed herself for nothing since they don't have the power to save the world after all. Then the others arrives. Alear apologize saying that they weren't a real Divine dragon, but have the others says that they are supportive of them, that they follow them no longer just because they are the Divine dragon, but because they are themselves, Alear. Alear is touched, but then dropped the dialogue about how them not being a divine dragon mean they have no chance of winning this war. Then have Sigurd says the same dialogue he had with Alear about explaining Alear has Lumera's power, that Alear not being linked by blood to her doesn't make them any less her child, and the dialogue display just like the game. Except that when he ask Alear if after hearing that, they would still leave, Alear ask their friend if they are still ready to follow them and they reply by the same dialogue as in the game, followed by Alear saying the exact same line they had in the game. And boom. Here. No need to go to far, you just do that and the scene is much more efficient.

[artificidel]

housekeeping

this is more my walk of shame/accountability post than calling anyone else out; and to have a more clear outline of my current threads

waiting on me:

-herb smoking girlfriends / deirdre [starter]

-combat conglomeration / griss + owain

waiting on partner:

-god forsaken / limstella

-superpredator / raven [+1 bow]

-converges on you / chrom

-it's odd for this time of year / arval [+1 gauntlets]

-oh so holy on my tongue / leanne

-faith is unseen / veyle

any threads unlisted here are dropped. this is more upon me than my partner. the timing and length of my hiatus made me lose inspiration for a couple lingering threads and i apologize

i may pick up more threads depending on how quickly replies are returned to me. ephidel is an unaffiliated muse so if you are interested in writing with them or need an unaffiliated partner, feel free to message me

[ringthief]

MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS | accepting.

@grisshound asked: (misc sentence prompts) i don't fucking care.

"Yeah, no -- didn't think you WOULD" Larimar replied, agitation evident in her voice. - Griss could be SO infuriating sometimes but instead of arguing (it really wasn't worth it) - she turned on her heel, flipping her crimson hair for dramatic effect!

" .... Guess you can sit around pouting by yourself. I'm done trying to reason with you. -"

She then made her way to the open window, stepped upon the ledge and jumped out. Even though the drop was fairly far - the assassin was confident enough in her abilities to land gracefully on her feet.

and she DID. -- as usual.