#he is being so meticulous and careful while trying to separate the barrier between their soulsㅜㅜ

[megyulmi]

「wake up, fushiguro.」

[tartagilicious]

counterparts.

→ synopsis | hurt after hearing the person you’ve grown closest to has been withholding the truth you’ve been searching for, you seek him out to know just what else about your relationship had been a convenient lie.

→ genre | angst.

→ word count | 1300.

→ ib | je te pardonne by maître gims

→ note | angst my beloved <3 I hope yall like being hurt because I sure like doing the hurting >:D i spun this to be kind of a romance-esque story, but at the end of the day, you can view it platonically as well! just a reminder in that case, i write from the traveller’s pov, but the traveller is meant to be you and not the canonical person! / art credit to nanogons on twitter & a very thank you to @seerie for one again being my beta reader !!

✧･ﾟ: the day you meet again, rain runs from drooping leaves.

petrichor. a deep voice calls from within your memory as you walk. the scent left by rain is a rather unique combination of natural chemicals, slightly different to each region depending on the plant life that most thrives there.

as if to prove his point, you remember the man stopping to pluck a glaze lily from the earth, dotted with the same gentle smell. an innocent enough gesture. yet as you took the flower from his gloved hand, an abrupt sense of belonging crashed through your chest.

but the scent grew cloying over time. easily, even, with dainsleif’s tales of the old nation of khaenri’ah, and the archon’s ties with your missing sibling. that same fragrance of rain is rotten in your nose as you walk, the ball of tension in your throat doing little to keep you grounded.

because suddenly, your thoughts drift back to him in every stray moment. every past conversation is taken apart with a careful hand, yet is still unskilled in pulling out the lies you want to find. no matter what you do, you know that in the familiar stalls and cloudy reflections of shop windows will remain memories of zhongli, as hard as you may try to keep your eyes averted from them.

you find him with ease, the notion of knowing him so well curling in your stomach. but you choose to give yourself the benefit of the doubt; while a man of substance, it’s not hard to discern what zhongli’s hobbies may be.

it’s a lie and you know it.

there was only ever one place he chose to go to on days like today, anyway, where the clouds hang low and dark in the sky. they cast a temporary shadow over the world, the greenery and water mingled in a soothing dance with the air.

the ambience is lost on you as you climb the stairs of the pavilion, turning towards the veranda with rocks in your boots. he sits behind a thin screen that hangs down to block the rain, back turned to you. there’s a golden pot of tea next to him that still steams.

“___, it’s nice to see you.”

you haven’t said anything yet, but it’d be foolish to assume he didn’t hear you coming. your chest feels heavy as you try to take casual steps forward.

“you as well.” the words come out in a mumble as he finally turns towards you, eyes clear of suspicion. but, you’re sure not to mistake this as trust — zhongli must be aware of the bittersweet reunion between you and your sibling, regardless of his status of retirement.

“i hadn’t been expecting you.”

a small smile quirks his lip as he raises a hand, silently calling to a member of the waitstaff. a brief recount of your sudden arrival is all that’s needed before he places an order of your favourite beverage — a pot of sweet herbal tea you’d shared many times before.

you bite back your words and nod your thanks.

there is no barrier between you, not that there ever has been — you are alike in your positions of rebirth, and share the sentiments that come with leaving something cherished behind. but as you settle into the chair across from him, he can’t shake the notion of a strong connection beginning to sever.

“recently,” he clears his throat softly, naturally in a way only he can manage. “how have you been fairing?"

“i.. could have been better. but, that’s just how it’s been lately."

zhongli nods. his eyes do all they can to ease your tense figure from a distance, gentle as he says, “…after this all, i hope you’re alright.”

somewhat unbeknownst to you, his words are truthful. while aware of the situation on your mind, he is prepared to withstand any reaction you might have; whether you choose to forgive him or would rather never see him again, it is nothing he doesn’t see coming.

but the moment you pale hearing those words, he almost reconsiders.

“so i guess it's true?” you pause to let the waitstaff place a teapot in front of you, decorated with the delicate purple leaves of a wisteria tree. zhongli takes note of the way you put aside your gloomy expression to send the member a comforting smile while they pour your beverage, reassuringly easing the tension they must inevitably feel interrupting such a situation.

he’s looking into the depths of his tea cup when you try to meet his eyes again. you may be alone once again, but the awkwardness has not disappeared.

“…don’t you have an excuse?” your hands wrap around the warm cup in front of you, your eyes jumping from one place to another, not in panic, but disbelief. zhongli sees the way your words affect you, the bitter poison they must taste like after holding them in, the anxiety in knowing that he may be just the type of person you hope he isn’t.

he pauses for a few moments, the pattering rain insistent on the overhang not far from you. but he will not ever be the one to deny you the luxury of the truth.

“no.”

he states his answer simply, deliberately taking a sip of the tea that has long gone cold in his cup. in that moment, zhongli would use any means necessary to avoid seeing the heartbreak in your eyes.

“it was a contract.” he says, finally placing the cup down and breaking the defining silence. your eyes find his quickly.

he wants to tell you. tell you what? that you have every right to be angry with him for hiding the information you seek? that despite the horrible and deceiving man he’s become, he’s begun to realise that he wants you to be there to forgive him? there is little within the scope of reality that he is truly capable of hiding from you, and he curses the world every day that it has to include this.

“i sincerely apologise.” zhongli’s voice is low, the retired god seen nowhere in the regret that lines it. “but i cannot break a contract, not even for you.”

zhongli has always been a meticulous man; his suits are ironed in a specific way that he prefers to handle himself. he will talk about operas for hours if not prompted to stop, yet will only ever attend showings at one theatre. he is the same with the agreements he makes, steadfast and reliable in everything he does.

you only wish he could make an exception just this once.

words are jumbled in your throat, different scenarios and endings fighting to come out on top — you want to say something. there is no reason to give into the satisfaction that would come with walking away. yet when you open your mouth, your words escape you.

what do i want to say?

you walk away only when you’ve convinced yourself that it must be better for both of you this way, to separate yourself from the idea of him so you can finally see the entirety of him.

as your figure disappears below the veranda’s stairs, zhongli feels little. he knows there should be a cold bite, a flicker from deep within him that only comes when someone may never return, yet there is not even a moment of hesitation. he reminds himself that he should be prepared to see to whatever conclusion you reach.

silently, he pushes the cup in front of him to the centre of the table with the intention of leaving it to be collected. instead, he can’t help but notice how it rests next to its companion in the set, designed to be the counterpart to yours.

the artist had clearly intended the two to symbolise night and day, yours painted a deep purple complimented by an old wisteria tree — his, however, remains a golden colour, and contains the image of a blooming glaze lily.

he tears his eyes away, fighting against the fear of you, too, leaving for good.

[ironmandeficiency]

that’s not how those work

pairing: fives / reader

word count: 4124

summary: you’re a witch on an outer-rim planet that gifts fives with protection crystals to keep him safe when he leaves. you forgot to tell him how protection crystals work.

warnings: implied smut, shenanigans

a/n: shitpost prompt # 13, everyone!! i’m extremely excited to write this one bc i can’t get over the idea of just chucking a big ass hunk of rose quartz at a problem and making it just, ya know, stop being a problem. this quickly became a favorite of mine and i hope y’all enjoy my first attempt at writing for fives.

the battle was rough, as all battles seemed to be, but tonight the sweet taste of victory permeated through your village. the chief opened your home to your saviors, the men with almost identical faces, and dared their jedi to tell them no when a celebration was set to be held in their honor.

there was drinking and singing and dancing unlike anything you’d ever seen, every sensation only intensified by the mirth of the soldiers. it thrummed deep in your veins and set itself to the drumming of your heartbeat. you were never going to feel this euphoria again, so you believed it highly justified that your eyes lingered on the trooper that had saved you from a blaster shot to the chest earlier that day.

you’d met him while the defense strategies were still being planned, the day the republic forces arrived. his smile blazed hotter than the sun that burned the skin of the men in the harvest fields. he had eyes that were rich and held life like the fertile soil your people grew your food in. and his laugh? you’d never heard any song as sweet.

thoughts of him have had you enraptured since day one. he told you his name was fives, pointing to the number etched onto his golden skin with a smile, and the rest was history. every waking moment that wasn’t spent with everyday responsibilities was spent with each other. you swapped stories about your families and when he shared details of his dashing exploits as a soldier, you told him of the spells you cast and their sometimes ridiculous outcomes.

magic was never a circus trick to you. you took it seriously and it gave you a sense of pride as the strongest in the village. but the way his eyes gleamed with such joy at the idea of seeing real magic, how could you say no? so you found an unsuspecting newt and changed the pattern of its spots. the grin on fives’s face while you arranged them into a five to match his temple was one you’d never forget.

these memories and more were floating through your mind as you approached where he sat by one of the many bonfires built to accommodate for the several hundred guests. he was chatting with his brothers but the moment he spotted you, he forgot what he was supposed to be saying.

you had to have him under a spell, he reasoned. there was no way just looking at someone would take his words from him that efficiently, but alas. he paused halfway through his story and now had two pairs of eyes looking over him worriedly.

they followed his line of sight and their worry dissipated as quickly as it appeared. it was just you, the woman he was just talking about, the woman he hasn’t quit talking about since the first day they set foot on your planet. jesse and kix hadn’t met you in the tenday that the five-oh-first has been stationed in your home but they might as well have known you forever with the way fives has been rambling on about you.

jesse wordlessly shoves fives off the log he was sitting on and barely hides the laugh when he sees you grin at the action. fives, on any other day, would have smacked his brother upside the head for a stunt like that. the only thing that saved jesse from his fate was the way you smiled at him and offered him your hand to help him up.

he took it gratefully and relished in the electricity that buzzed through him where your skin touched his. you began to walk with him, looping your arm through his so casually it was like you’d been doing this for decades instead of days. fives had no idea where you were leading him but he would have followed you anywhere.

the walk was comfortably silent. days had been spent pouring out stories; it was nice to just bask in his presence next to you without needing to fill it with tales of derring-do and fond memories of the dirt you walked in.

arriving at your home was a bit of a rush, if you were completely honest with yourself. normally the only reason people walked through your doors was to enlist your skills for one task or another, some menial and others dire. now, however, opening your front door felt so excitingly different with fives next to you, the starlight bouncing off him in a way that only served to deepen his eyes and smooth his skin. this visitor wasn’t here to ask something of you, not here to take from you; he was here to give, and you were going to give him everything you had in return.

the door was barely shut when your lips crashed to his and his hands found their rightful place on your hips, pulling you closer to him. he was floating away on a cloud of bliss; the fact he was in your home and holding you and being held by you had the arc trooper drifting far from reality. a soft gasp left his mouth as you worked to remove his armor without lifting a finger from where your hands cupped his face, thumb stroking the stubble of his face.

it wasn’t until you guided him to your bed that he spoke of the way you soothed him, the way you’d been able to chase the nightmares away without even trying. you offered your own confessions in return, admitting that your dreams have consisted of brown eyes and a sly grin ever since that first night, and that you’ve never met anyone as strong and loyal and comforting.

you both found solace in each other’s arms, in the way your bodies melded together with the familiarity of your own mind. there were no barriers between you and no definite point as to where the boundaries of your separate bodies were. it was nothing like you’d ever known, would never know again. love was what it was, and although it was doomed to be distant from the moment you licked eyes, you vowed to yourself as you chanted his name that you would do everything you could to protect your soldier.

when you awoke, fives had an arm wrapped around your waist, his face buried into your neck. his body was hot against yours and you would have been happy never leaving your bed if it meant that you’d get to be held like this forever. but there was work to be done if you wanted to keep him safe.

“fives,” you whispered, rolling to face him. his groan was almost adorable as he nuzzled his face into your neck in protest of your movement. “fives, i’ve got a gift for you but i have to get up to get it.” another groan emitted from his throat as he tightened his arms around you, mumbling something incoherent about not wanting you to leave.

unwrapping him from you by sheer force wouldn’t have any effect on him, and you weren’t one to use your magic so frivolously, so you relented and let him hold you for a while longer. nearly an hour had passed before he kissed your collarbone, leaving the bed on his own volition. you took advantage of his absence and walked to your altar.

precious stones were one of the most common ways for your people to show their feelings and intentions with one another. each stone carried a different meaning, and picking a stone based on color alone could get one into quite the sticky situation if they didn’t know the intentions behind it.

fives’s status as an arc trooper meant that he often found himself in the thickest areas of the fight, on the riskiest missions with the minimum amount of backup. this man needed protection, and lots of it, if you were to judge by the scars you memorized the night before. he did what needed to be done in a fight at risk of his own life and constantly had to make decisions that could cost lives if they were wrong.

his role required an unshakable confidence and although you didn’t doubt his skills for a second, a little help wouldn’t hurt. plus it would make you feel better, knowing that he carried pieces of you wherever he traveled in the galaxy.

he returned to the room just as you picked out the stones he needed, walking up to you and resting his chin on your shoulder. only a fool would think he wasn’t observing everything around him and analyzing it; the soft smile on your face as you leaned into his touch, the meticulous arrangement of the altar in front of him, the concentration on your face as you seemed to be moving the stones around to compensate for some being removed. there was a reason behind it, just as there was a reason for everything you did.

his answer was given moments later as you led him back to your bed. the first thought that went through his head was continuing from last night, but you mentioned a gift. were you giving him a stone from your personal collection?

you told him of the significance of gifting stones not long after you met him. being given a stone directly from someone’s altar was one of the strongest displays of care for another person. all the signs pointed to that being what you meant by “gift” but part of him was trying to keep from being hopeful.

moving your legs to sit criss-cross on the bed, you open your hands that contained three stones that you believed were best suited to protect fives once he left the safety of your bed. his eyes met yours in a silent question of you think i’m worthy of this gift? and it took considerable amounts of willpower to not show him how worthy he was right then and there, gift be damned.

“i know you’ll be leaving soon, and i know it’s selfish but i don’t want you to forget me during your travels. these will help keep you safe and guide you in making the best decisions you can.”

his hands wrap around the amethyst tower first, running his fingers along the smooth faces and absurdly sharp edges and point. he spends a moment admiring it before meeting your eyes, a question on his lips. “you said before that the meanings of the stones were just as important as who you give them to. what does this one mean?”

you smiled, knowing he’d remember the importance of your words despite the casual tone you used. “amethyst is known for its ability to protect against negative energies and awaken its owner’s higher consciousness. it can guide you into making wiser decisions without having your emotions overtake logic.”

he hums at that, inspecting the tower a bit more before carefully resting it on your bedside table. his eyes catch the swirls of the malachite and you notice, moving to hand it to him as you answer the question you know is waiting on the tip of his tongue.

“this is malachite. it’s widely seen providing protective luck, like keeping you from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. maker knows you need some of that.” you add the last bit as an afterthought and are thoroughly pleased at the laugh it brings from him. he follows the swirls and circle patterns as he turns the stone over in his hand, studying it to learn of the ways each part of it connects to each other. once he’s satisfied with his inspection, he sets it beside the amethyst.

“this last one is carnelian, the courage stone. it boosts the holder’s willpower. many say that it helps the holder trust their own judgement and find the confidence to do what’s right in the toughest situations.”

he doesn’t move for a long moment, which worries you. the stone is sitting in his palm and staring at him with unseen eyes.

fives can’t recall a time where he felt so cared for, so appreciated. it was clear that you had put extensive thought into the meanings, which didn’t surprise him in the least, but he was still trying to register that you did that for him. sitting there in front of him, that soft smile on your face that had him falling at your feet, it was clear that you expected nothing in return for your gift. but he still felt that he had to give something in return, to show you that he cared for you the same way you cared for him.

he left your bed speckled in lovebites and a vambrace lighter, but he was given so much more in exchange. he had your love and your protection, and that was enough for him.

weeks later he finds himself, alongside rex, jesse, and hardcase, captured by a separatist-aligned village. none of them could have told you how exactly they were captured so easily nor how they still weren’t free after three days.

they heard talk from their captors about a message sent to one of dooku’s goonies about having skywalker’s fist begging for mercy (a whole ass lie, rex hasn’t said a word to them since they were taken three days prior). soon these overheard tidbits involved a date of arrival for the people who would take them off the planet they were currently stationed on.

all four of them knew that if they left this planet, there was a large chance they wouldn’t be reuniting with the five-oh-first.

this was unacceptable and made fives desperate to break free. but how the hell was he supposed to do that?! he didn’t have anything that could cut through the ropes that bound him to his chair, and his ankles were tied to the legs of the chair so he couldn’t move his legs. the edges of his armor, if positioned in a certain manner and moved, possibly could have done something to help but it was in a convenient pile several feet away.

he shifts yet again, agitating the rope burn on his wrists from days of struggling, and hisses when he feels something pointy jab him in the thigh. in an unforeseen twist of fate, they had left his belt on. and attached to his belt was the leather pouch he kept his protection stones in.

he had an idea.

slowly but surely, he moved his fingers what little he could to grab at his kama and rotate his belt until his fingers met the leather pouch. he blindly untied the knot in the string keeping it closed and felt around for the amethyst tower.

“fives! what the kriff are you doing playin’ with your rocks?!”

“i’m gettin’ us outta here.”

twirling it in his fingers and hoping to the maker he doesn’t drop it, he begins to use the amethyst to saw through the rope. it’s long work and takes several minutes before the rope is thin enough for him to pull it apart from his wrists. it hurts like a bitch and he’s mildly concerned when he feels a damp spot in the rope. a sigh of relief escapes his lips when he regains movement in his arms, quickly bending down to free his legs and ankles.

“well kriff me with a z-6, it actually worked!”

“couldn’t you have thought about that, i don’t know, three days ago?!”

“knock it off jess, or i’ll leave your shebs here!” fives wasn’t going to leave him, everyone knew that, so the retort was taken with merely an eyeroll.

as the quartet gathered their armor and snuck out of the village, fives realized something: these protection crystals weren’t playing around.

a simple bout of surveillance, they said. they’re not going to have anyone posted at their “abandoned” outpost, they said. it’ll be in and out, they said.

they were a bunch of liars.

he was now -alongside echo and tup- running for his life through the most horribly laid-out building he’d ever been in with only vague recollections on how to get out through the darkness. the enemy voices seemed to be getting louder the farther they ran and it was infuriating. his lungs and legs told him that he was going his damndest but it still seemed like the enemy was getting the upper hand.

“the doors should be up ahead! but there’s one problem!” echo shouted over the chaos.

tup couldn’t believe his ears. “what could possibly be worse than this?!”

“even if we get to the doors, we’ll be shot before we can even open them!”

fives nodded in agreement as much as he could while in a mad sprint. that tiny detail did put a slight damper on their chances of escaping alive. but then again, echo was operating on the assumption that they had to stop to open the doors like a civilized person would. lucky for the three of them, fives could barely be considered civilized on his best days.

he brought a hand to his leather pouch and fished around for the malachite chunk with its intricate patterns and curious shape.

“what in the nine hells are you doing?! do you want to die here?!” tup shouted from beside him in frantic confusion. this was no time for fives to ogle his rock collection, they had to get out of here!

“echo! how far are we from the doors?!”

“a few hundred feet!”

“when we’re fifty feet out, turn on your lamp! i’ve got an idea!”

“this better not get us killed!”

fives would have turned on his own ages ago, but his had unfortunately been damaged on the way to the outpost (he tripped and hit his head on the trunk of one of the weirdest trees he’d ever seen, but if anyone asks he got punched). his feet pounded on the ground to the beat of his racing heart, hand loaded with what was about to be his and his brother’s saving grace.

his eyes were peeled, waiting for the moment echo’s headlamp flickered on and illuminated the doorway to the outside world. it felt like forever in those brief moments, but the moment the light flickered on it was like only seconds earlier he had fumbled for the stone.

it was divine intervention, or maybe it was the protective luck of the green stone he held in his hand. hell, it could have been some sort of protection you had put on him and the stone without him knowing. when he spotted the button that would guarantee his brothers’ safety and lobbed his malachite chunk at it, there was still part of him that doubted it would work.

but he heard a satisfying clink and a clatter, then saw the beginnings of a sunrise peek through the opening doors. echo nor tup could believe what just happened despite it happening right in front of his eyes. the sight of freedom, the closest to a guarantee for another day they’d had in hours, seemed to increase their already breakneck pace.

fives had no idea how it happened, but by some sheer force of luck (thanks malachite) he ended up kicking his stone ahead of them when they ran outside. gods he would have mourned his malachite if he had left it behind, but thankfully he didn’t have to. with the grace his training had blessed him with, he swooped down with one hand and snatched the stone from the ground without breaking his pace.

they didn’t stop running until they were on the outskirts of where they had set up camp, the trio collapsing to their knees when they heard familiar voices calling out their arrival. there was no telling how much longer they could have sprinted from that base high off the adrenaline of near death and awed disbelief, but the moment they felt the hands of brothers lifting them from the ground they were out like lights.

the first thing he registered was the near blinding pain in nearly every muscle of his body. everything was throbbing and tense, and oh how he could use a massage right about now. the second thing he noticed was the absence of his malachite in his fist. did he imagine picking it back up after opening the doors? was he going to have to explain to you how he lost one of your gifts the next time he saw you? he couldn’t think over an incessant beeping he couldn’t identify and-

“fives?... fives! hey, you’re okay, vod.” kix’s voice and comforting hand were soon bringing him back down.

“my malachite! where is it?!”

kix gave him a funny look about the fact the first thing he asks about is a rock, but obliges his brother’s question. “if you’re talking about the green one, it’s right here. looks like it got a little chip in it, though.” the relief on fives’s face perplexed the medic who was unsure as to how he would have chipped it in the first place when he was supposed to be in the middle of an op. he handed the rock to fives who familiarized himself once again with the shape of it, as if it were an old friend he was reuniting with after lost time.

“speaking of, what even happened out there? the last thing we hear from you is that the outpost was flooded with enemy forces, then next thing we know you’re all sprinting like mad men!”

“he’s a karking genius, that’s what!”

echo’s awake now and apparently cursing? as if that’s a thing he does regularly? and calling fives a genius? who was this man and what did he do with his batchmate?

without anyone egging him on, echo continues. “we’re runnin’ for our lives through th’ base, in near complete darkness, and i don’t think we’re gonna get out alive! we can’t get to the doors an’ stoppin’ to open ‘em would have gotten at least one of us shot, but then this bastard! this complete and utter bastard decides to throw one’a his rocks from his girlfriend at the button! and it works! the doors opened and we didn’t stop runnin’ till we got here!”

fives looked between kix and echo and back at kix again. “what kind of drugs did you give him?” kix’s reply was teetering between amusement and mild concern. “none, but i think he’ll be fine after some more sleep and food.”

“what’s this i hear about fives being a bastard?”

kix laughs at rex’s jab before moving to check on others that were in the medbay, knowing that he was subtly hinting that he wanted to speak to fives about the mission.

“just talked to tup,” rex began, taking a seat at the foot of fives’s cot. “he said that you wouldn’t have gotten out if it weren’t for your quick thinking but clocked out before i could get much more.”

fives chuckled at the image of tup falling asleep mid-sentence for a moment before rex continued. “based on what little he said, there was no way you were getting out of there. how did you do it?”

as he heard the story, rex was awed. this kind of thinking, the seat-of-your-pants strategies that saved the day when least expected to, it was exactly why he promoted him to arc trooper. he couldn’t help but feel a little proud. there was just one more question that’s been nagging at him since they were taken prisoner by the seppie civilians, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “what’s your deal with rocks these days?”

the grin that overtook the arc’s face was that of a lovesick loth-wolf pup.“i was given these protection crystals by a witch.” oh yes, fives’s cyare. rex remembers her well. “she didn’t tell me how to use them, but i seem to be getting the hang of it.”

before rex could give a reply, a loud bark of laughter was heard across the medbay.

“ey, what’s so funny?!”

“the way you’ve been using those crystals! that’s not how they work!” kix was now doubled over, holding his sides as if they were literally splitting. “oh stars, this shit’s priceless!”

“hey, kark it, asshole! it worked!” fives, in a brilliant moment of stupidity, decided to throw his malachite at the hysterical medic.

“oh, kriff! what was that for?!”

fives sat up and chuckled, whispering a humorous it worked! before kix was storming back to him, malachite in hand. oh shit, he was going to regret hitting kix with his rock later today, he just knew it.

[betweensceneswriter]

Island Hopper-Chapter 28: Just Add Water

Certain things are instant.  Not usually sons.

Previously Chapter 27: So Long, Farewell Surprising things await back on Majuro.

ISLAND FEVER (Jimjeran Book 1) 

ISLAND HOPPER (Jimjeran Book 2) 

FanFic Master List

     Perkaj looked so small sitting next to Jamie on the Jolok boat.  The breeze whipped his fine black hair around his ears.  Before he was discharged that morning, Dr. Langenbelik had coached us on our goals.  Perkaj, as young as he was, needed to be able to maintain his correct blood sugar level for at the least a full week by himself before we were to allow him to move back in with his family.  

     After that we were to spot check--stop in and have him test his blood sugars at a variety of times of day to make sure he was being consistent.  The goal was for him to re-enter his family and be independent of us, but not at the cost of his health.  We could also work with the family to help support him, hopefully getting their cooperation to speed the process of moving back home again.  

     Jamie and I had bundled up Perkaj with the few possessions he had brought along and the medical paraphernalia that he had gained during his hospitalization, along with a coterie of stuffed animals and toy cars, gifts from the nurses who had felt such pity for the unparented wee waif. We had boarded the Jolok boat just in time for departure.

     Perkaj’s dark eyes sparkled with delight as he glanced back at me.  He crouched to come close to me and exclaimed above the roar of the engine and surf.  “We go to your house now!”

     “We will also see your mama and baba,” I said.

     At that, he looked giddy.  “I miss them,” he admitted, then with a smile at me went back to sit with Jamie.

     He was equally excited during the bumpy ride in the back of the pickup truck from Arno Arno to Ine.  I realized from his enthusiastic reactions to everything we saw that he must have had no memory of his own truck ride to the air strip and plane ride to Majuro, and that this could be his first adventure outside the confines of the island.

     “Let’s stop at Perkaj’s house first,” Jamie suggested as we neared Ine.  I watched Perkaj’s face as we got closer, sharing in his joy as we pulled up to park on his property.  Our call to the Iroij had the desired effect, as the boy’s family members came spilling out of the house to greet him.  His mama was in tears, holding him by the cheeks and gazing into his face, clucking at how much weight he had lost but obviously pleased to see him looking healthy again.  His father smiled gravely as he shook Jamie’s hand.

     They invited us to come in, and we entered their house, nodding at the relatives we found already inside.  Perkaj’s mother and father ushered us to a pandanus mat and tried to urge food on us.  Jamie gestured to his stomach and explained that he was full and couldn’t eat anything.  I had a feeling that his stomach was still churning from the boat ride despite motion sickness pills.

     I could pick out the occasional word as Jamie explained everything to them.  At his invitation, Perkaj joined us on the mat and pulled out his zippered kit with lancets, tester, and insulin.  At Jamie’s nod, he took a testing strip and inserted it into the tester.  The room was silent as he twisted the plastic tip off the lancet, but there was a chorus of gasps as he poked his own finger and then touched the droplet of blood to the testing strip. Quiet murmurs followed, but when the tester beeped with the results, Perkaj held it up not to show his parents, but Jamie so he could see the LCD readout.

     “Emmon, good,” said Jamie. “120. Show Baba and Mama.” 

     Perkaj scrambled over to them, squatted between them, and pointed and explained as he looked at the monitor.

     I noticed that Maria was hanging back at the side of the room, so as the attention of the crowd was on Perkaj, I motioned to her to come outside.  She hung her head shamefacedly, not meeting my eyes.

     “I am not good aunt,” she muttered.

     “Yes you are,” I said.  “You came with Perkaj to Majuro.  It is very hard to take care of someone with diabetes.  You remember I am a nurse, so I can help Perkaj until he can manage it himself, but you can be a helper to him when he comes back home.”

     Her eyelashes fluttered as she glanced quickly up at me.  “Jolok bod,” she said.  “Is bad he live in your house? You and Meester Shamie are just married.  Is not time for nin-nins yet.”

     “Ejjelok bod.  It’s okay,” I said, trying as hard as I could to mean it.

      Before long, Jamie had made our excuses, Maria helped me grab a few more pairs of clothing for Perkaj, and we had our driver take us the rest of the way to the clinic. Coming around the side of the truck, I felt a hand on my arm. It was Jamie, concern on his face. “Are you all right, hen?” he asked. Perkaj was pulling his backpack out of the truck, his focus elsewhere.

     “Honestly? A little terrified,” I answered, meeting Jamie’s eyes. “Wondering how we’re going to manage all of this along with the rest of our lives.”

     “Just do the next right thing,” Jamie said. “That’s what my da used to say when Jenny, Willie or I were overwhelmed by a task.”

     I took a deep breath, grabbed my suitcase and swung it out of the bed of the truck.

     “Well,” I said, with a hesitant smile at Jamie, “let’s get inside and make a spot for Perkaj.”

     After dropping my luggage by the kitchen table, I went around the apartment opening up the louvered windows and curtains which had been closed for more than a week. Without a breeze to move the air it made little difference.  It was still stuffy and hot. 

     Perkaj wandered around the apartment, stopping in front of the pantry with its rows of cans and tubs of dry goods.  “Ebol mona,” he marveled, opening his arms to show how much food we seemed to have.

     “Eh bowl?” I asked Jamie. “I know mona is food.”

     “It means full… a lot.”

     After pulling our bed closer to the west wall of the apartment, Jamie moved the couch to create a barrier between the table and the back wall to give Perkaj a spot of his own.

     Glancing at me occasionally, Jamie set up the space.  He pulled a quilt from our storage tub, folded it several times and laid it on the floor, topping it with the pandanus mat Perkaj’s mom had carefully rolled up for her son. I pulled one of the extra pillows from our bed and put on a fresh pillowcase, handing a sheet to Jamie to put on top of the mat.

      Looking through the back window, I caught sight of my raised beds. Having seen the dry yellow grass along the sides of the road , the drooping palm fronds and wilting jungle plants on the way from Arno Arno, I’d had a sinking feeling. I still saw green peeking up above the wooden walls of the beds, so I invited Perkaj out to see my plants.

     Though most of the plants looked a little limp, as I dug down into the soil surrounding them I discovered that just an inch under the surface of the ground there was moisture.  It was only a minute later that Anni wandered over.

     “Meester Shamie asked me to water the plants,” she said, smiling. Perkaj stood up on tiptoes to peek into the box, then grabbed the bucket to go to the well.  He lugged it back having to use both hands to carry it, water sloshing out on his feet.  But he was fascinated and helpful as we dipped cups of water and gently poured them at the base of each plant.

     By the time we went back inside, Jamie had stretched wire from one rafter to the other and was hanging up a sheet to separate Perkaj's little room from ours.

     “Let’s do coconut rice and fish,” Jamie suggested, nodding towards our little visitor. He had reached into the dresser, grabbed swim trunks, and was about to drop his pants when he thought again.  

     “Do you want to see how yer bed feels?” He asked Perkaj, rattling off the translation in Majol afterwards. Once Perkaj had rounded the curtain, Jamie whipped off his clothing and pulled on the trunks, his back to the room.  After a pleasant eyeful, and having never seen the man sheepish about being naked, I couldn’t help but chuckle.  Perkaj was still happily sitting on his bed, setting his zoo of stuffed animals around the perimeter when Jamie joined me in the kitchen.

     “Obviously, I need to rethink the space,” he whispered. “No’ enough privacy yet,”

     “You think he’s never seen a naked man before?” I asked in an undertone.

     “Aye, I’m sure the lad has, but he doesna need to be subjected to the vision of a large, naked white Scotsman.”

     “That would be a traumatizing nightmare,” I joked.  Jamie smirked, kissed me, and headed out the door with his fish spear.

     “Itok, Perkaj,” I called out. “Can you help me find a coconut for the rice?”

      Prepping dinner took a good hour, followed by testing his blood sugar, giving Perkaj short-acting insulin, measuring portions, eating, and cleaning up after the meal. By 7:45 I couldn’t tell who was more exhausted--us or Perkaj. Jamie meticulously wrote down everything in the blood sugar/insulin log, and then we met each other’s eyes, an identical question on our faces.  “What now?”

     We were used to freedom in the evenings, our time being our own to read or write letters, to flirt and joke and laugh, to kiss and cuddle, to freely shed our clothing and make as much noise as we wanted.  But now there was an unfamiliar guest in our sacred space. 

     For the first time, I thought I saw it register on Jamie’s face-the sense of anxiety and discomfort I was feeling. But then he frowned determinedly and turned to Perkaj.

     “Ej awa in kiki,” he said.  “It’s time to sleep.  What do mama and baba do to help you rest?”

     “Erro bwebwenato,” Perkaj replied. His voice held a tinge of sadness.

     “They tell you a story?” Jamie repeated, translating. “Well, come & lie down in your bed, and I’ll tell ye a story.  I have one that’s called Jock & his Mother.”

     We turned on a lamp by our bed and turned off the main lights.  While the boys were on one side of the sheet I put on my pajamas, choosing a longer pair of shorts in case Perkaj saw me in the morning. 

     The story was a little like one I’d heard before, where a simple-minded boy keeps following his mother’s advice a bit too late.  Jock brings home a needle in a bundle of hay, and his mother tells him he should have put it in his hat.  The next day he brings home a plough, and following his mother’s advice, puts it on his hat.  Of course, it’s so heavy it falls into the river. 

     “She said to him, ‘You silly boy!  Ye should have tied a rope to it and pulled it behind you!’” Jamie said, giving the mother the voice of an old crone.  Perkaj giggled.

     “The next day,” Jamie said, “The boy earned a leg o’ mutton... well, they dinna have those on Arno, so maybe it was a… roasted chicken. What do you think he did with it?”

     “Tie it with rope?” Perkaj offered.

     “And pulled it all the way home!” Jamie answered. The answering peal of laughter made me smile.  I sat on the bed, arms hugged around my knees.  All this time I hadn’t realized this talent of Jamie’s.  My only bedtime story from him had been the boring recitation of Scottish history.

     Poor Jock tried to carry a horse on his shoulder and then rode a cow, which of course helped a sad princess to laugh and so they got married.  Jamie slowed his sentences and lowered his voice as the story continued, and just before I heard the floor creak with the movement of Jamie pushing himself up off the floor, I heard a little voice murmur something in Marshallese.

     Jamie crept around the curtain, smiling when he saw me.  He joined me on the bed and was reaching for a book when I whispered, “What did he say?  I didn’t hear him well enough.”

     I could have sworn there was a little mist in Jamie’s eyes as he answered.  “He said ‘Ainikiom ekakiiki ao.’” He paused, the effort of translating wrinkling his forehead.  “It means,” he blushed and met my eyes. “The sound of your voice lulls my soul to sleep.”

     I felt a lump in my throat, the sting of tears in my own eyes as I leaned my head on Jamie’s shoulder. He pressed a kiss onto my forehead and wrapped an arm around me.

     “Tired?” he asked.

     “Exhausted,” I answered.

     “I don’t even think I can read tonight,” he said, reaching over me to turn off the lamp.

     “I won’t argue with that,” I responded, getting up to turn the covers down and pull up the single top sheet. It was still hot and windless.

     Jamie cuddled me for a moment when he got under the covers, but then pulled away.

     “It’s so hot,” he groaned. “I’m missing air conditioning already.”

      It was pitch black inside and out when I startled awake.

     “I want to go home,” a small voice quavered.  “Ikonaan mama im baba.  In my house, my brother sleeps next to me,” Perkaj cried.  “I am alone here.”

     “Jab jan”, Jamie said reassuringly.  “Don’t cry.  Here.  You can sleep next to me.”

     He flipped on the lamp, pushed the sheet out of the way, pulled the mat over until it was touching the side of our bed and tucked Perkaj in again.  Jamie then got into bed, kindly turning toward the little boy and scooting closer to the edge that faced him.

     For the next few minutes, I could hear Marshallese as Jamie murmured reassurances to Perkaj.  The low rumble of foreign speech patterns soothed me as well, and soon I fell back asleep.

      In the predawn hours, I was awakened by large, warm hands that gently stroked my back.  They found their way to the tight muscles of my neck and shoulders, then ran fingers through my hair to massage my scalp.

     I shivered at a kiss on my shoulder blade, at which Jamie scooted closer to me and put his arm over me.

     “Cold, hen?” he asked.

     “Actually, no,” I said, smiling to myself.

     “Me neither,” he whispered, a hand meandering down my side, lazily tracing the waistband of my shorts before slipping fingers under the elastic.

     “Whatcha doing?” I whispered playfully, rolling toward him and being rewarded by an enthusiastic caress of my breast and a thorough kiss.

     “Dying,” was Jamie’s response. “A busy week at your parents’ house, then sleeping apart from ye at the hospital, and now we have an instant son? God, I'm starving for ye.”

     No words were needed to tell him I felt the same.  I’d been trying not to be selfish and resentful, but it was challenging to not feel deprived and disconnected.

     I helped him finish what he had started, wriggling out of my shorts and kicking them onto the floor, then climbing atop Jamie, who made quick work of pulling off my tank top over my head, throwing it to the side to join its companion on the floor.

     “Ifrinn,” he gasped as I used a hand to guide him in, lowering myself onto him.

     Perkaj won’t wake up, I assured myself, confident the darkness would hide us.  He was turned away from us anyway, his breath coming out in a low, even snore. I leaned toward him just to make sure he wasn’t looking in our direction.

     Jamie must have noticed my movement because he hissed under his breath, “It won’t be the first time he’s heard these noi…  Oh, God… oh, Christ...”

     I put my hand over his mouth, increasing my pace. I was close, he was close, and then, a plaintive voice interrupted the process.  “Meester Shamie?”

     I froze. Jamie desperately tried to hold my hips to keep me in place, but I was instantly out of the mood, melting down next to Jamie like an ice cube on a hot car.

     “No no no no no no no…” Jamie pleaded. I pulled the sheet up, panting.  “Bollocks,” he swore, then modulated his voice after a deep sigh.  “Ijin,” he said calmly, rolling away from me toward Perkaj.  “I’m right here.”

Next up on Island Hopper:

Chapter 28b: Just Add Water, part 2 Shots & the “Shungle” 

[smitten-miqitten]

Date

In which Era and Cid go on a date. Of the three chapters I mentioned working on, I ended up doing this one without waiting for people's picks. Sorry >.<

AO3 link here

"Alright, that's it. I'm done. This draft is finished, those orders are filled, and I'm done."

"Yes yes, you've done enough for today." Jessie sighed

"I've attended those damn investor meetings.."

"And even stayed awake!" She encouraged, clearly wishing this would become a more regular occurrence.

"And I finished those orders ahead of schedule. All while working on my own projects", Cid said proudly and somewhat defensively. He was fishing around for something in the drawer of his workstation and, upon finding it, swiftly pocketed the small ornamented box.

"You've done good Chief! So, whatcha got planned for tonight?" Wedge asked excitedly. It wasn't often one saw Cid so energized.

"Made a reservation at the Bismark..."

"Not with company funds I hope...", Jessie muttered

Cid continued as if he hadn't heard, "And afterwards we'll do a little flight through the Sea of Clouds..."

Biggs chuckled, busy tidying up his own workstation, "Nice and romantic, eh? Got something other than that coat picked out?"

"Of course! Was just about to get ready..."

The door to the workshop opened, and Era walked in. She was dressed in a lilac, airy shift with sparse flowers dotting the hem. Hair loose, with a ornamental clip to keep it out of her face. Far more girlish an outfit than she was often known to wear. Seeing the befuddled faces of everyone around, she asked "7:30, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but you're about an hour early..."

She pulled out a little pocket watch from a small handbag she carried, another uncommon wardrobe accessory for her. She seemed puzzled, but upon looking up at the chronometer on the wall, a look of understanding crossed her face. "Cid, that chronometer is slow. This watch just got wound, I'm certain it's accurate."

And so it was. Spurred on by their Chief's sudden increase in productivity, everyone had worked to the point that, of all the engineers that present in Cid's workshop, not a one had noticed the chronometer had needed repair for some two weeks now. Jessie, bless her poor overworked heart, was horrified. "But that means... oh gods, all the orders we got out on time were late! Every single bleedin one of them....." The woman looked near to tears.

Wedge tried to cheer her, "It's alright Jessie! None of our clients seemed bothered, else we'd have noticed wouldn't we? Probably didn't expect.."

"Probably didn't expect us to produce things on time?! That's alright is it? Seven hells..."

Era, feeling rather responsible for Jessie's sudden distress, tried to think of a way to right the issue. "If another day would be better..."

"No, absolutely not! This is the first day in damn near a month we've been able to meet! Jessie..", Cid began, turning to his second in command, "Though I doubt anyone is genuinely upset about items being an hour late I'll apologize to the clients tomorrow. No one noticed the bloody chronometer, it's nobody's fault. We've all been working hard, and you lot need to rest. Now", he said, turning back to Era, "If that clock is slow, we're going to be late if we don't leave for Limsa soon. Let me change and we'll be off."

"Might give your face a quick wash, you've got a bit of grease on your nose!" Biggs called after him as Cid made for the adjoining living quarters.The others slowly began to head off to their quarters, whether the adjoining ones or private apartments.

Cid returned wearing a white collared shirt, sleeves rolled at the elbow, first two or three buttons at the chest inevitably undone, and nice black pants and shoes (would it kill him to wear color?). His usual pendant was present, but to Era's surprise his forehead was devoid of his customary goggles. He claimed it 'killed the look', but Era suspected there was a little more to it than that. He almost never took them off, except when bathing or sleeping (unless he fell asleep at his desk, of course)... or when they were alone together. Perhaps it was a gesture, a 'this is me and you time' sort of thing. Or perhaps it really did just kill the look. He forgot the grease smudge Biggs mentioned, as she knew he would, so she dabbed at it with a damp towel she had at the ready.

..................................................................................

The flight to Limsa was largely uneventful. They both simply enjoyed the trip. Era loved flying, specifically Cid's flying, and had long since passed the point where she was embarrassed to admit as much. She used to dislike the cheeky grin he gave whenever she was too plainly excited about the trip, thinking he was making fun of her. In reality, as she came to learn, he was just pleased that she was so happy and was more than a little proud. Cid took a lot of pride in the things he did, for the most part, something that took Era a very long time to relate to but very little time to admire. For much of her time in Eorzea, her achievements had not felt like something earned, but rather things done by means of an unfair advantage. Cid had earned everything he had (which included her, she supposed), and she admired him immensely for it. Only once she began to feel responsible for her own accomplishments did she truly begin to understand that aspect of him, and one of the only real barriers between them finally break down. He was not unreachable, and she was not unworthy to be with him.

She was grinning. Cid loved it when she did that. He had never been able to make good on his promise to get her memories back, but it seemed that her expressions had returned for the most part. It wasn't just his doing, of course, but he felt he could take some credit for the little things. The time she giggled at some asinine joke of his, and couldn't stop for damn near 20 minutes. The time, following a particularly, *ahem* energetic night, that she had an almost permanent smile on her face and blushed furiously when informed of it. When, after Cid had a unusually bad dream regarding Meteor and the events leading up to it, she lost her head and swore up and down she'd clock Gaius next she saw him and then the entire imperial family following. Perhaps because it's so blatant in her case that it sticks with him so. The fact that she loves him. She loves him to the point that such simple events broke down barriers set by (presumably) Hydelyn herself.

Of all the people who have ever claimed to care for him, markedly few have been genuine. Fewer still, when he tried to pursue any kind of relationship, were interested in much more than fame or looks. The early days in Eorzea were rife with such occurrences; he had been young and just fine with a few of the shorter term liaisons, but after a while it began to wear on him. Many of the ladies who approached him were either reluctant or outright refused to let him remove his goggles even. They liked his appearance and his reputation just enough to tolerate his heritage, but not enough to look at it. This had not been the case with Era. Their first intimate night together, she had removed them herself. It was 'silly' to leave them on, she said, thinking he had forgotten they were there. Her first time, nervous as could be though she'd not admit it, and she still had enough gumption to tear away a barrier that all others insisted on and called it silly.  This was the woman he was taking on a meticulously planned date this night, and for whom he had been working on a little project of his own for the past month.

..................................................................................

Their dinner too, was largely uneventful. Their conversations were composed of what details of the past month that could not be discussed over linkshell. Era's adventures, Cid's new inventions, the Scions' shenanigans and the latest in workshop gossip. Hands were held, loving looks exchanged. However, underneath all the sweet words, heartfelt glances, and romantic gestures, Cid seemed to be antsy. Was it because of that stupid chronometer? Despite his stubborn attitude, Era knew Cid took Jessie's concerns and advice to heart. She wouldn't be his number two if he did not. Era fully expected that come tomorrow the entire workshop would gang up on the poor lazy timepiece and modify it to the point it would never err again. She redoubled her efforts at sweet talk, so that she might take his mind off the matter. Still, as dinner drug on he grew increasingly restless.

..................................................................................

When finally they set off toward the Sea of Clouds, Era broached the subject. " Cid... Is there something the matter? You seem... well, I dunno. You seem like there's something on your mind."

Cid just looked at her for a bit, a curious expression on his face. And all of a sudden, it was filled with resolve. He made for the nearest island and set the ship to rest. "Era, I've been working on something I haven't told you about for some time now.  As much as I hate our long separations, it did provide me with the opportunity to finally do so." His hand was in his pocket, holding a small item of some kind.  "We've been together for some time now, and I like to think neither of us plan to change that, so I thought...thought that perhaps we might make it more official."

"What do you..." Era began, but stopped when Cid started to kneel. And in that moment, her brain was trying really very, very hard to process what was happening.

"Era Hess, would you be my..." Cid was taking the little box out of his pocket and had started to open it, but no sooner had the word "Wife" left his lips than two arms were flung around his neck, hugging him almost too tightly. She hadn't even looked at the dammed thing.

"Yes" was all she said. All she could say, with her head swimming so. Cid hugged her back, at a loss for words himself. He had been in a strange state the whole night, both expecting the answer she gave and fearing the one she did not. After a while, when he had come down somewhat from his elation, he chuckled and made to prise her from him.

"As flattered as I am that you didn't even pause, I really did work hard on this. Here.", He said grinning ear to ear, and handed her the box. Inside was a small silver ring of intricate metalwork. It was split in two halves, one resembling a vine with leaves and little flowers made of small blue gems. The other was a simple, straight bar with a streak of similar blue down the center, ending in both spots where it met the vine. In the very center was a flower, petals of more blue gems and a little glowing blue spot in the middle of it. An engraving similar to that of an Arcanist's book wound around the inside of the ring. "I had a little help with that part", he said as she looked at the engraving, trying to make sense of it. "It's a meant to draw upon your aether to cast a small, perpetual protection spell. In the event you can't use your aether, the tiny amount of Ceruleum in the flower and the surrounding water crystals should be able to pick up the slack."

"It's lovely". Era was in awe of it, it really was beautiful.

"It had to match its wearer", Cid said cheekily. After taking it from her and putting it on her finger, he hugged her once more, the two staying like that for what seemed to be ages, neither wanting or needing to speak. They reveled in the silence, as it seemed that all the world had disappeared from around them.

It was just them, the ship, and the endless sky.

[abundantchewtoys]

HS Epi: Meat p25 reaction

---

Though, we might jump to Roxy & Calliope again. It might be that, now her Reload self is... verschwunden, she's going to regain consciousness to a certain extent again. We'll just have to see if her condition is any better than Rose's, but I would hope so.

---

"ROSE: Customarily, we speak in favorable terms about “getting to know each other” as people." Uh, wut? Rose... is talking coherently? I thought post-victory Rose would mostly have stayed to short sentences, in that discourse Dirk referred to. Talk about "working through the pain".

Well then! I suppose their discussion is more related to the ultimate self than Dirk was letting on. Of course it would be, I mean, Dirk is trying to get Rose in a favorable state of mind, maybe to break down her resistence to the ascension by convincing her of the validity of his point of view.

"ROSE: The more we learn about each other, the more the barriers between us fall and the closer we become." So, is that part of the ultimate self ascension, too? The more you understand other people and vice versa, the more even the barriers between your distinct ultimate selves fall away? ... Are they all evolving into their own story's version of Godhead Pickle Inspector?

"And to question this in any way is to succumb to dysfunction, to pathological insularity, to sociological sin. ROSE: It is to renounce humanity itself, is it not? DIRK: Yo, hold on a sec. This shit is dynamite, I promise. DIRK: Gotta take care of something..." Pffff, Dirk is half distracted. And Rose was having her groove on, too! For a moment I thought he was grabbing for a pen to take notes. :P

"Rose’s phone is ringing, and I know I’m in for an encore of my last dead-end conversation with Kanaya, so I block her number. I’d like to be able to attend to Rose in peace. It’s only cordial for me to give the greater percentage of my attention to someone I actually invited over. The nagging wife can hold her horses." Oh Dirk. You garbage bag of a person, you. He's quite literally full of himself, lately.

"Rose isn’t speaking to me directly. She’s been relocated to somewhere in the workshop a little more comfortable than the fucking floor." Having her talk out loud, drowning in her own thoughts. It's almost as if he's inviting her to become like him.

"Her head is in her hands again, hair falling over her shoulders. Her face is entirely hidden from me." It's as if it always comes back to Rose biting through her issues while hiding her face. An allusion to the blindfolded Seer?

"Her shadow has faded to light behind her, assuming the shape of a Rose-like apparition. I nod to her, and she continues. When she speaks, it’s almost as if it’s the apparition that’s doing the talking." ... Is her shadow slowly detaching from her as a separate being?? That's some Peter Pan-type shenanigans. I'm not even surprised this came back to be referenced. So, what if that's what's happening, and it isn't just that her shadow is fading due to the light changing outside? If the ultimate self detaches from the body, doesn't that mean they're, like, closer to ghosts? Does Dirk have his old body stashed somewhere, if this has happened to him? I doubt it, since he was perfectly capable of fighting Jake, earlier.

"ROSE: If two people were to know each other in such a complete way, what remains of their individuality? DIRK: If you’re going there, we might as well start at the bottom and define what an “individual” even is. ROSE: Oh dear god." Rose might be afraid to let Kanaya in any more than she already is. But in the grand scheme of the ultimate self, it might also have a double meaning. Maybe Dirk is convinced they're all shards of the same self.

"I place my hand on my chin and broadcast the appearance of being deeply pensive about philosophy all of a sudden. She gulps hard, broadcasting her grim realization that I have indeed become serious as shit about this. Literally any kind of intellectual pablum could pour out of my mouth any second, and she’s not prepared. For all she knows, I’m about to start quoting Kierkegaard." Is Rose afraid her biological father is going to lay the philosophy aside and slamming psychology? ... No wait, Kierkegaard was a philosopher, I find. Then, she might not be prepared for philosophy as much as psychology, when I thought the former was taking place already, but apparently.

"DIRK: Hey, where I come from, Wikipedia is a venerated literary resource. So if I told you I boned the hell up on his pages, you gotta believe me. That’s not meant as like, a punchline or anything. DIRK: I’m a really, really well-read dude." His education came from Wikipedia. Well, it beats Uncyclopedia, I guess.

"ROSE: But there were only two human beings alive where you came from. ROSE: Who exactly were the academic cognoscenti of your era to determine which sources were deemed respectable? DIRK: That would be me, obviously." Rose already ruled out trolls at the beginning of this page to have a valid opinion in this matter, so )(IC was already out.

"DIRK: I suppose you’re going to tell me you haven’t read enough Wikipedia articles on loads of scholarly shit to fancy yourself an elite academic by 25th century standards as well? ROSE: No, I guess I have. ROSE: I’d be one of the top intellectuals by that measure. ROSE: A measure set by, I guess, literally one solitary self-absorbed teen boy for the express purpose of making himself feel clever." This. Such a good burn.

"apparently in any given era the standard for depth of intellectual mastery is inversely proportional to the depth of the ocean." Well, we don't know that it's true for ANY given era. I'm not sure the proportion of intellectici vs. plebs in ancient Greece was proportionally higher than in the 21st century. We just have a lot of philosophy of that age survive until today. Also, heh, ocean, makes me think of LOLAR and her denizen at the bottom of the sea.

"DIRK: Let’s have a totally amateur debate on philosophy. Hit me with the classics. ROSE: Um. DIRK: I’ll go first." Well, heh, okay, at least Dirk is aware his assessment of himself is full of crap. That continues to be one of his most endearing characteristics.

"ROSE: How about, ROSE: “Subjectivity is truth.” DIRK: Wrong, but valid. DIRK: Try this on for fucking size. DIRK: “Late 19th century existential phenomenology pre-supposes that free will is a thing.”" For all that these might apply to the ultimate self... They're just quoting/paraphrasing the Wikipedia page now, aren't they?

"ROSE: I don’t think I bookmarked that page. ROSE: Can’t back you up there. DIRK: But what if there’s no free will. ROSE: You didn’t put that in quotes." How does she even know? :P His tone of voice, presumably. And yeah, this starts coming back to the discussion about the alpha timeline and pre-destination in the existential framework of Paradox Space. I suppose it would make sense that the Ultimate Riddle comes back in the discussion of the ultimate self.

"DIRK: Haven’t we spent the entire day having a feelings jam on how none of us got here by accident? DIRK: Our lives were meticulously planned from clone-ception up through this very post-canon moment we find ourselves riffing in about the very free will we probably don’t even have. DIRK: Don’t you think it’s all a little too convenient?" He's acknowledging his state as a fictional character again, without stating it outright. Does he want Rose to come to the same conclusion as him by herself? Though it is ironic how, post-realization, he's had so much more agency in the nature of his own life. Unless he realizes he still doesn't. Wow, that's really getting meta.

"ROSE: This seriously is just a conversation between two stoned people now." ROSE: The bad kind, where neither one even gets to be high."PFfffffff. Yeah, actually, we need Gamzee's input up in here. 'have you ever, like, really LOOKED at your life?'

"DIRK: Seriously, Rose. Do you think that you have free will?" Is it in essence the question that leads to ultimate self realization? That Dirk is hammering so hard on it? Ironic though, that the question is twofold no: one outside of the story, and one inside of it.

"ROSE: I... DIRK: Stand up." WOOOOW. He's going to show off his powers now, isn't he? What's that even going to do to Rose, realizing he can do that without so much as breaking a sweat?

She might resist similar to John though, which is proof that his influence isn't total.

"She tries to stand up, but I haven’t narratively allowed it yet." That's another application of his powers, apparently - to offset, to negate action. He hasn't used it a lot yet, though.

"She attributes it to exhaustion, an all-encompassing sense of weakness due to her condition. Of course, she has been weakened by her condition, and thus she suspects nothing." I like Blaperile's theory, that what Dirk can allow them to do is limited to what they believe they're capable of OR which they can rationalize away. I hope it's only the former.

"It’s done deftly enough that she doesn’t notice how close I end up sitting to her. To be honest, I don’t even notice myself until I’ve done it. I continue speaking, and she remains rapt. But now even I can’t help but wonder where I’m going with this." Uh... Has he really started to lose track of his own motivations? More proof that he isn't omniscient and still being narrated instead of being his own narrator.

"DIRK: Logically speaking, individuality is a collection of processes and properties, interrelations of matter and experience all bundled together. DIRK: Your experience and processes don’t want to be bundled together anymore." So, is it only that her selves are trying to merge, or that even her own 'self' is trying to become something more, merging with others? And if so, is that Dirk confessing to what he's going through himself?

"A moment goes by, and she’s quiet, perhaps puzzling over what I said. Then I remember I haven’t narratively permitted a response. I’m forgetting myself, like a fool. Distracted by the surprise my own actions have caused me. I resolve to stay focused, remain in control. I let her speak." He's getting distracted again. You can't be both a character and an author, at the same time, for an extended amount of time.

"ROSE: I don’t understand. DIRK: You do, though. DIRK: We’ve been talking about it, but using different concepts." I wonder if Dirk is trying to retroactively tell Rose what they've been talking about, filling in the unshown conversation.

"DIRK: Your Ultimate Self, that which is revealed when the mind’s partitions are stripped away, and all potentiality of who you are and what you could have been flow together. DIRK: Those are the experiences and processes that are refusing to stay bundled, that’s what your body can’t endure." Ah, okay, so not like her self is trying to merge with his and other people's.

"The unbundling itself is your mind coming apart. DIRK: Because you’re not as strong as me. Not yet. DIRK: But you can be. DIRK: I’m working on that. DIRK: But for now, I’m focused on stabilizing you with my own expanding consciousness." Aka, with his narrative powers, he's stopping her body from breaking down further, because he doesn't allow it. Does she have to stay near him for that to keep working?

"DIRK: You can’t see it, what I’m talking about. But I can help you. DIRK: I can help you see what I see, if only for a little while. DIRK: All you have to do is open your eyes." I don't think her shadow is going to develop eyes. ... I like Blaperile's theory, that he'll give her limited control on the narration, guiding her to further understanding. It would allow her to develop her own idea about what her Ultimate Self should look like, with less influence from him.

"Rose opens her eyes. Not her physical eyes. She opens the others easily, internally, beholding a field of perception elsewhere entirely. They see what I want her to see. That which quietly desires to be seen." Rose's mind quest begins. 'That which quietly desires to be seen', is that the story, or at least the part of it that is narrated, aka relevant, true and essential?

"We’re not in my workshop anymore. Physically, yes, we’re still here. But on a higher textual plane, we’ve pulled back from that, from Earth C itself. Rose takes a shuddering breath and runs an invisible pair of hands afforded by her new sight over the narrative whole cloth, and begins smoothing out the wrinkles. ROSE: I see... John." Cooool! She's starting to gain the same understanding as Dirk, here's to hoping she does a better job with it than him. But hey, Dirk still acknowledges his physical form on Earth C, so he isn't a ghost, and he still thinks of the body as important, at least that's something and he hasn't started to think of himself as some immaterial conscience.

"DIRK: Doing exactly what you told him to do, like a good boy." Not sure if he's actually done everything John planned. Plus, yeah, Dirk's been influencing him along the way.

"ROSE: ..." She might notice that, too.

"DIRK: What’s there to be upset about? You knew this was how it was supposed to go down. ROSE: He could have made another choice." And he did, in the Candy path. I wonder how that influenced the rest of the story, and if Hussie really went and showed us that. Maybe Dirk 'knows' about the Candy path and the difference it would have made.

"DIRK: Then where would we be? ROSE: Who knows." Meanwhile, in another narrative context, at the same time... :P

"DIRK: If it can happen, then it’s been written. And if it’s been written, you can read it right now. ROSE: I... don’t know if I want to see." ... PFffff, that's directed to us. No, Dirk, not planning on viewing that path just yet.

"I’m not going to describe what she sees. First of all, that would be spoiling it. Unless you already know, in which case, I guess what’s taking place here qualifies as something closer to dramatic irony. But if you really want to see it for yourself, stop what you’re doing, flip the whole thing over, and begin again. I’ll be right here when you get back, waiting. Trust me, no one’s going anywhere." ... In the Candy path the people are also going to be thinking about what could have been, aren't they? :P I do hope this isn't implying we should read the Candy path now. I mean, it's a bit awkward, navigating back, plus I would rather think Andrew'd bring the two paths together or add a REAL indication, before making it relevant to have read both.

"DIRK: So, what do you think? ROSE: It’s difficult to say. ROSE: I suppose there are negatives and positives. I can’t say if that option would be any better or worse than what we’re experiencing now. ROSE: Whichever way our fate unravels there’s too much of... something. ROSE: Too much blood, too much sugar." I think there might be a bit of a 'sugar overload' in the Candy path, in that it might seem there's too much fluff? Maybe inertia is taking hold of them over there, and people are slowly coming to regret not taking control of their lives. Even though, in a meta sense, only John could and did.

"ROSE: I almost can’t see through it. ROSE: It’s as if our extra-canon reality, our surroundings, our actions and their consequences... ROSE: They’ve all lost the ability to blend the ingredients responsibly. ROSE: Do you know what I mean?" It's like their fate has split like a cherub: a violent and a passive path, no inbetweens. But then, like a cherub, will one path 'devour' the other?

"It’s growing dark around her again. The apparition she’s been projecting behind her fades, and she starts to bleed light and shadow in all directions. Her physical eyes are open now, and shining bright. It’s a striking sight. She’s beautiful, actually—diaphanous and disheveled and filled with the limitless light of metaspiritual curiosity." She's literally starting to project light. Cool! And if she overcomes her current issues, it would definitely be a useful tool, and something to bond over with Kanaya.

"She’s my daughter in every sense of the word. My equal, my mirror.

It used to be odd to consider it. A technical fact I’d accepted as a genetic reality, but nothing that could ever quite penetrate down to the soul. But in this moment it doesn’t feel strange at all. It feels right, suddenly. And I know she must feel the same way. There’s no way she doesn’t. All she needs is a nudge in the right direction." Is that Dirk knowing, or projecting? Still weird how Homestuck made it so parents and progeny can interact as equals in age and demeanor alike.

"We’re family. We belong together. And after years of micromanaging the inconsistent and confused desires of total imbeciles, wouldn’t it be a relief to have someone by my side who understood me?" ... He really wants to co-narrate with her.

"ROSE: But what if the person you catch... ROSE: Isn’t me anymore? DIRK: Who gives a fuck. She’ll be better." I hope and suspect Rose will be a better omniscient narrator than Dirk. But I understand her concerns. If your influence is so total, it can become totalitarian.

"Would it not be to renounce humanity itself?

And yet, ironically, renouncing our humanity is exactly what we have arguably just done. Good riddance, I say.

Her body should be dead now. But I’m holding it together until I can implement the more permanent solution I have in mind." Has he done that to himself as well? Made a connection between his ethereal ascended form and his corporeal body? If so, he at least had the good sense to want to remain grounded. Still, Paradox Space, what the fuck? Having people die at 23 is only marginally better than 13.

"She regards me with an almost unbearably bright adoration. The kind that’s difficult to look at directly, but you can’t manage to look away either. It’s like the first time you see the Green Sun. Of course it is, because that’s the way I’m describing it. The truth belongs to me. And as of now, so does she." ... Eeeesh. I hoped he'd say, the truth belongs to Rose, too, but this. It's as if by ascending, she gave away a part of her agency to him??? He planned that, the bastard. Dirk, I really don't know what to make of you and your intentions.

"ROSE: I see it now. ROSE: You’re right. DIRK: Have I ever not been? ROSE: You...

A wrinkle in her brow. It smoothes out quickly. She murmurs to herself, trailing off quietly." Him, okay, I hope that means she can still cut loose in due time.

"ROSE: What... time is it...?

I step forward and steady her, hand firm but gentle against her cheek. That’s all she needs: a stable anchor. DIRK: Rose, does time even exist?" Dave (and Aradia, and Damara) would disagree.

---

Wow. I mean. Damn. Nice way of keeping us on the fence on Dirk's motivations. At least it should be a good thing he's no longer alone on that plane of existence. I'd rather have seen Rose immediately take control of the narration, but I can only hope it's due for the next page. It'd feel like reading her draft of CotL all over, her narrating in her longwinded fashion. :P

[kpop-goestheweasel]

Letting Go

Sooooo… In light of TOP’s military enlistment, I did a thing. A horrible, heartbreaking thing and I apologize. I’m just a bundle of feels right now and this is what happens. It’s a bit different as far as writing style, but I’m having fun trying new things out.  Also, this is based off a music video.  I bet you’ll never guess which one [; **The italic is T.O.P’s POV

Please forgive me. You were too beautiful, too perfect.  I am only human, selfish and flawed.  For that, I deserve this punishment.  I will accept this punishment as I should.  But you… You don’t deserve this.  You don’t deserve any part of this cruel life.  All the more, you don’t deserve the prolonged torment that I had inflicted on you.  I just- I couldn’t let you go.  I couldn’t live in this world without you.  I couldn’t continue on doing nothing when I was capable of doing something.  I couldn’t.  I didn’t have the strength to accept the inevitable.  I didn’t have the strength to say good bye.  Even now, I don’t have the strength to protect you.  I’m so sorry.  I’m so so sorry.

The pounding on the door continues.  They are relentless with their corruption.  Nothing in this world can remain pure, untouched, sacred.  Not even love.  

Like children, when they see another with something they want, all rational thought, all compassion is clouded by their desire.  And nothing in this world is more coveted than immortality.  To live on forever without fearing death, there is no greater power than that.  The wealthiest people in the world would give their every cent to never have to face their end.  What is money and power compared to never having to give a final farewell to the world, to your loved ones, to a lifetime of memories?  Humanity has strived since the beginning of their creation to find a way to avoid the end.  For that secret to finally have been found is one of the greatest treasures of all time.  But with something so valuable, comes greed.  Greed and corruption.  Not even the creator of such a treasure could escape that reality.

Trapped inside the wreckage of his own making, Choi Seunghyun was now determined to clean up his mess.  Everything had become all too clear, and in this clarity he found the heart wrenching truth: Even after finding a way to cheat death and turn back time, he could never hold onto her.  Fate was not on their side.  

When you told me you were sick, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to. Do you know what the thought of life without you did to me? I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t bear it. You were my everything. You are my everything. You had become a part of myself, something so vital that I could not part with. I should have remained in that denial.  I should have spent my days with you, showing you how much I loved you, creating more memories for you to take with you, selfishly indulging in the time we had left. But I only thought of myself. I only thought of what I was losing, what I was much too desperate to hold on to. How can I even ask for your forgiveness? You were dying and I neglected you, I pushed you aside in my narcissism. I could only see my own pain. I defied all reason and logic just to keep you. I turned my back on what was right, just so I wouldn’t have to carry on alone. I did this to you. I did this to us. You were meant to go; it was your time and I couldn’t accept that. But I know now. I know what I must do.

The ominous red bar slowly filled, showing the percentage of progress on the computer’s screen. Soon enough all traces of this mistake would be erased. Soon enough, only he would be the remaining source of knowledge to the everlasting life he had created. Already he had dismantled the other illegal robots and wiped clean the hard drives of all but this computer. Before it had been a matter of cleaning up that frazzled part of his life so he could live happily with her. Now, it had become a matter of conserving humanity as it should be. There are reasons human lives are finite. There are reasons we must all say goodbye and move on. To defy one’s mortality is an abomination. If humans were to put an end to death, they would have to put an end to life as well. This world can not bear the burden of such defiance.

76 percent… 77 percent… 78 percent… Each second that passed took with it another valuable piece of the computer’s memory. A memory much too valuable to let fall into the hands of those shouting threats from beyond the door.  Too valuable to fall in the hands of even the one that created it.  Along with that valuable information, other memories becoming nothing.  Photos from a time not long ago.  Emails, some professional, others containing sweet messages between lovers.  Songs that held special reflections in their chords.  They too were being flushed from the system, only to remain with the very person that had created them.  It was all things he would carry with him until the very end.

Remember that time you dragged me to that amusement park near the ocean? I thought for sure I was going to be nothing but miserable with so many people crowded into one place like that. I had so many complaints built up for the day before we had even arrived, but you didn’t get to hear a single one. That day you revealed a side of myself that even I had long forgotten. I didn’t even know I was capable of having fun like that anymore. I felt like a kid. Everything about that day was perfect; just like you. It was then that I realized I loved you. I guess I kind of already knew, but that was the day that my eyes were opened to just how much you meant to me. I think I’ve brought this up to you before and you laughed at how sentimental I got over such a ‘typical’ day. That’s another thing I love about you. You lived so loudly, so enthusiastically. To you, that was a typical day, but to me… that was the best day of my life. I learned that while I thought I was getting to know you, you were showing me things about myself that I had never imagined to exist. You were opening my eyes to a whole new world, a world so much brighter than the dungeon I had placed myself in. I’m still not convinced you didn’t manage to cast some kind of spell over me.

The voices on the other side relent in their yelling.  Time is running out.  Soon, they will be coming with another tactic to get inside.  Soon, the barrier that separates them, that shields him and his lover from the threats that seek them out, will falter.  Seunghyun is all too aware of this.  He is all too aware of their intentions, which is why it has come to this.  These final preparations will end it all.  He has been meticulous in assuring himself of this.  Not a single trace of this failure will be left.  His success in this desperate experiment of his will not be the downfall of the world.  Her name would not be marred by his selfishness. 

The computer’s screen flashed, signaling the end of it’s complete restoration. He waited for it to shut itself down and restart to ensure that it had returned to factory default.  With that, everything had been set straight.  There was just one last thing left to take care of.

It’s my turn to take care of you. I won’t let them take you away. It’s time for me to fix my mess, to right my wrongs. What I have done to you is wrong. What I have brought into this world is wrong. It’s finally time to let go. I’m finally ready. At least this time it will be painless.  At least this time I’m by your side.  At least this time…

At least this time we die together.