#he likes to walk around with a real katana strapped to his waist
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Star if you're out there I need autism to autism realness right now
#CJCKCNV#i still think about the one time they called me out for having a terrible filter#my brain works faster than my mouth and sometimes I can sound catty bc I drop factual but impolite sentences 🤡#listen that lady looked like she was fifty it was just a fact#not my fault she's thirty and chainsmokes#also i need to know if their boyfriend is unbanned from the mall#he likes to walk around with a real katana strapped to his waist#missing the optician job hours
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Motion Sickness Chapter 65
pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq
I rolled up on Seventh Heaven with a backfire or two from my bike. It was starting to become familiar to me. I walked inside to see Avalanche around and getting ready for the operation.
I handed Bisque his new weapon and harness and he grimaced. He took his current one off and put on the new one. "Any advice on how to use it?"
"No. It's a gun. I don't like guns. What's hard about point and click?"
"More than you think," he returned. Fair enough. A lot went into a sword fight, too.
"So… what's the plan, Cloud?" Wenge asked.
I pulled my explosives from behind me and juggled them a little.
"Should you be handling explosives like that?" Wenge asked again.
"Probably not. But I'm not a little bitch . I'd survive. The plan is to set the deck on fire and teleport onboard with Neo. We let them evacuate, we kill robots, we put a hole in the hull. Pretty simple."
"No killing," Bisque said.
"No killing," I agreed. "We'll make that shit look easy, too."
"Let's just hope Taurus agrees," Jasper muttered. "He was insisting on being involved when he was last here."
"Good. We could use another killer on deck," I said.
"No killing?" Wenge asked. His voice came out a whinge.
"No killing, but," I drew out the noise, "we could always use another professional. Y'all are amateurs. You could die. Taurus will take a bite out of those robots, chew on ‘em, and spit them out."
"Well aren't you Mr. Take Charge," Jasper came up and wrapped a hand around my neck and pulled herself close to me.
"Well I have to be. None of you know what the fuck you’re doing and could die." I disentangled myself from her and stepped to the side. Her aura at that range tasted of blueberries. It was a delicious flavor, though, not one I would have thought myself partial to.
We wouldn't be a good idea, Jaune. Remember that. You're probably not a good idea for anyone.
I let the self depreciating thoughts rule me. It was better that way. I allowed the familiarity of it to relax me. Someone getting close to me like that had made me tense.
Neo waltzed up from beside me and put both her elbows on the counter and leaned her head down on her hands.
"Are you feeling alright Neo?" I asked.
She gave me a tired thumbs up. She might just be sleepy. She'd be awake when it came time to work.
"So how have you been handling the training?" I asked.
"I'm sore." Wenge stretched. He twisted side to side.
"You're a monster, Cloud," Jasper informed me. "What's a girl got to do to make you take it easier on her?" Her fox tail swished behind her in red and white. Up and down it went. I tried not to stare at her behind, or close to it. It drew the eye, though.
"Not ask me for help with it for one. You think you're up for this? Not too beat up?"
"I'm all ready," Jasper said. She flexed a bicep at me as though that would prove it. I chuckled a little at her antics.
"Me too," Wenge echoed her. He didn't flex, though.
"How about you Bisque?" I asked.
"I'm green. This ought to help. Thanks Cloud." He checked the chamber of his new pistol expertly. He was getting used to the new mechanisms as we spoke.
He examined the loaded magazines and strapped them to a bandolier on his person.
"I have more ammunition for it. You shouldn't need it for this operation. Leave most of the robot killing to me, Neo, and Taurus."
"Hey Cloud, you're not really, um, going to kill Taurus are you?" Wenge asked.
"I might have to. He's unwilling to play the game."
"And what game is that? The drug game? We don't play that either," Jasper said. "You haven't threatened to kill us yet, though."
"You still play along with it. You play the information brokerage game. You still play like your lives matter and you don't kill just because it might be the easiest option. Taurus doesn't. It's his way or the highway. That makes him unreliable for anything other than his agenda."
"I think I get it," Bisque said. "You can't threaten him. You can't barter with him. He's not like you. You're willing to compromise. He's not."
"Exactly. He doesn't do business. I do. A lot. I trade favors, I sell my skills. He's not about that life."
The bar door jingled and Taurus came striding in. His white mask on, katana by his side.
"Speak of the devil," I said.
He snorted. "What's the plan to take down the ship?" He asked. No beating around the bush. No chit chatting. He was straight to the point.
I held up one of the explosives. "We've got two of these. We're going to plant them on the inner hull." I flicked open the map of the ship on my scroll and showed the group where we'd be setting up the bombs. "I go in first with a fireball to set up the evacuation of the people onboard. Then Neo teleports the rest of you to the deck. One of us stays behind and watches the vehicles. That'll be you Wenge."
"It would be easier and quieter to kill the guards. They'll set off an alarm. We'll only have minutes," Taurus growled.
"Which is why we'll work fast. Neo will teleport us back out. Once we reach the rendezvous point, that is. Here near the command deck."
I pointed out the deck of the ship I was referring to on my map.
"We fight through any machines that stay onboard and get in our way. In and out, five minutes."
Taurus looked at my face and that of Avalanche. "It would be easier to kill the crew."
"No killing. None," Bisque said. "This isn't the White Fang. This is Avalanche. If you can't handle that, you're out."
He had guts talking to Taurus like that. Adam could rip his guts out and show them to him. The only thing stopping him was a tenuous alliance.
"Anyone I knock out will go down with the ship when we sink it. It would be more merciful to kill them," Taurus said. I winced. I'd used similar logic before. It wasn't a far leap for me to see his side. And the operation would be easier if we killed the sentries. But Avalanche had rules and I made the plan live within them.
"We'll give them plenty of time to get off the ship. We've got a teleporter on our side," Bisque shot back. Adam hunched over his weapon like he might draw it. He coiled like a spring, ready to strike with alarming speed. I made myself stand relaxed. If he attacked I'd just have to deal with it.
Neo had spun around on her stool when Adam had walked in. She gave a slow barely perceptible nod when she was brought up.
"Very well," Adam grunted. He uncoiled slowly. But he was no less dangerous. I was sure he could draw his weapon fast enough.
"Then it's settled. We'll only have minutes between when the fires start and emergency responders show up. We'll need to be fast and split up. Neo and Bisque will make up one team. Jasper, Taurus, and I will be the other."
I gave one of the bombs to Bisque. "The bombs are both hooked up to my scroll. I'll set them off once we're clear. Any questions?" I asked.
No one had any. They just stared at me in silence.
"Then let's get started."
pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq
The smog of the town refracted the sunset. Casting red and orange light all across us as we drove. Me and Neo were on my bike and all the others piled into Avalanche's truck.
When we came up on the docks I jumped off the bike and hung in the air. I crushed a dust crystal and cast a fireball forward. It splashed in and through the top deck of the ship we were targeting. The White Whale was bold across its side. It's name wasn't the important part of the story. The cargo was the real focus.
Almost immediately an alarm started to blare and red lights flashed in a cyclic fashion that glinted mutely compared to the fading dusk sun.
I didn't land back on the bike with Neo. Instead I glid forward on the air currents and landed on the deck of the ship. I hid behind a mooring station as people rushed past my hiding place and off the ship. Some took to the plank that led down to the docks and others made for the lifeboats.
I let them past me without making a sound from where I hunched down. There was a shattering sound as Neo appeared next to me with Bisque, Jasper, and Taurus.
The alarm wailed for a moment and no more people came rushing up. Machines began to come from beneath deck and put out the fire with extinguishers.
Adam snarled and rushed them. He cut through them with ease, sheathing and redrawing his weapon as he moved. I got my first look at his style then as he side-flipped in place and cast his blade through the machines.
I gave them all a nod and we worked our way beneath deck. Our two parties split up.
We came across more of the small humanoid mechs and I crushed them with my bare hands where they got in my way.
I drew my long sword and I stabbed through a robot's head. I swung to the side as much as I could in the tight quarters and cut another in half at the waist.
I kicked another to the ground as I descended the stairs and I crushed it's chest under my boot. These machines really stood no chance against me. Most were still armed with fire extinguishers rather than sleek Atlesian rifles. They reminded me of ants. They were responding to only one emergency at a time.
It was easy to destroy these smaller robots and there wasn't really the room for bigger ones beneath the hull.
I came across our planting location and began to plant my bomb. I set it against the outside hull and pressed a few buttons on it. A green light flashed and it was good to go.
We ascended back through the ship once more. We got to the command deck and here there was room for larger mechs and for fighting.
I slashed my way through a robot and felt my semblance activate. I pulled my shield from my back. The titanic broad mobile cover allowed me to protect myself from a firing squad of robots and make my way up on them.
I cut through wave after wave of the Atlesian droids. A massive spider bot dropped from the ceiling. I flew at it and Cross-Slashed it before it could do us any real harm. It fell into smouldering pieces with the wires exposed and flickering.
An explosion rocked the ship and I stopped moving. Something was wrong. The ship began to tilt. Something was beyond wrong.
We fought for a moment longer and Bisque came up on us. He was carrying Neo who was singed and soaked both.
"Your bomb went off on her," he said. "I don't think she's going to be able to teleport us out."
I rushed over and put a hand on her face. "Neo…" I murmured.
She opened one eye and looked up at me. She rubbed her face into my hand and sighed a little. She'd be okay. She'd have to be.
A thousand apologies were on the tip of my tongue. I fucked up. I thought my bomb was set up fine but instead it just went off. There was some irony in this. In her getting hurt instead of me when I was the one who deserved it by screwing up.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to her.
She smiled and nodded.
I deserved to be the one hurt. I'd been so flippant with those bombs. Instead it was Neo who took the explosion. It should have been me.
She leaned into my palm firmly. I drew back. I felt shaky.
"Keep carrying her. We'll make for the docks. Past the fires-"
"You turned on us, I knew you couldn't be trusted," Taurus prowled up on me nice and slow. More like a cougar than a bull. He had his hand on the hilt of his weapon but it still wasn't drawn.
"Me?" I asked. "How would I benefit from our plan getting fucked. The part where I almost lost Neo? Damn it!"
The ship tilted a little more. Taurus's footing remained sure.
He growled and paced into my range. I stepped back and fronted on him. I drew my broadsword against him.
He slashed at me, drawing his weapon from the scabbard lightning fast. I blocked and activated my semblance. I swept upon him with a glowing blue light.
"Wait, you two! We're still on the freighter. The whole thing is sinking, can you really afford to be fighting?!" Jasper called out.
"Let's find out," I whispered.
"I've had enough out of you, human," he said.
Our blades met between us in rapid horizontal strikes. He quickly sheathed his sword and drew it out again in a dancing fast motion which swept all across my body as he side-flipped in place.
I blocked it all. Then I hit him with my baseball style swing, shoulder to waist with my hips turned into the motion and a shout on my lips.
The blow sent him flying back when he blocked it. And he'd been upside down in mid flip as I swung it at him.
He landed neatly despite the brutality of my attack. He pulled his sheath from his side and fired at me. Shotgun pellets buzzed past my head and I floated into a roll. My hand outstretched to get a grip on his collar.
He backed up and swatted at my hand with his blade and twisted. He fired off two more shots from his shotgun. One hit me in the shoulder and made me falter and the next hit me in the stomach and made me gasp.
He sheathed his weapon and blurred at me in a wide strike in the tight confines of the ship we hardly had room to fight like I wanted and our blades scored trenches in the metal around us.
I front-flipped in a tight fashion and brought my blade down on him in a wave of blue. He stepped to the side but I side kicked him, then I roundhouse kicked him, then I brought my blade around at his head in a tight arc which clipped his stomach and made him grunt.
He slid back and I approached him with a back flip. It was an empty hop, all aggression with zero commitment. He held out his blade partially sheathed to block but I just landed in front of him and waited for his block to drop.
Then I Cross Slashed him. He wasn’t ready for it. They never were ready for it the first time. He blocked the first two lightning fast slashes. But the next three lit him up. It flung him down the corridor of the ship and deeper inside.
He approached me again, faster this time because I didn't have Limit Breaker. He unsheathed his blade as quick as a bullet and slashed at me. Then he slapped me in the face with his hard sheath.
I growled and pressed on.
"Go. Take Neo and get yourselves out of here," I ordered. She was at the forefront of my mind. My slip up could have killed her. Even as I fought my mind raced to find the point where I might have fucked that bomb's construction up.
It must have been somewhere and it must have been costly.
It was distracting me in this life or death battle.
"But-" Bisque started. He and Jasper hovered to the side of Adam's and my battle.
"Don't worry about me, just go! Get Neo somewhere safe. Tell her I'm sorry."
I held my ground and Taurus's and my swords met a half dozen times in a matter of a second. Then we seemed to pause with his blade sheathed once more, me with my weapon back over behind my head, ready for a massive overhead.
Then we flickered out again and that impossible moment broke. He came at me from the side. I blocked and sent my blade in a wide sweeping diagonal cut.
He deflected it and came back at me in an overhead slash that tore into the ship above his head. I countered and riposted but I was finding the amount of room I had to move within the bulkheads lacking. I slashed at him diagonally and he twisted to the side and put a firm boot against my chest. He pushed against me.
I stumbled back a step. The ship tilted more to one side as we fought. I came at him again with my enormous weapon making his look like a toothpick. I cut at him twice horizontally, once from each direction. He blocked both by holding his weapon vertically and shielding himself behind it.
He sheathed his weapon and drew it once more in a flash and came at me with a narrow front-flip. He cut me shoulder to hip and I was forced back a little more.
I gave a narrow rolling side-flip. I slashed at him again and cut his chest once more. I tore at his red aura. Ripping away at it, I landed neatly on my feet inside of his range.
He cut me a half dozen times. I had over extended and his cuts came like flashes. They swept over me from seemingly every direction.
I got out of it by kicking him hard in the side of the knee. He came twisting down and I kneed him in the face hard. Unable to bring my weapon to bear against him I grabbed him by the collar and threw him up into the bulkhead and slammed him down into my knee.
I charged in place for a moment. Storing a little bit of time away where I saw the opportunity, I hesitated mid-fight.
I dragged my weapon around and he slashed forward knocking it aside and cutting me across the chest again.
In that moment I became Limit Broken. We'd traded enough hits that I crossed the damage threshold alarmingly quickly. I came at him in my Limitless state. He swept under a bulkhead, around and stabbed at me. I easily blocked to one side. He furiously cut at me and I blocked each and every single one of his strikes in turn.
He did a tight back-flip and slashed at me. He caught me across the chest and ripped a chunk of my aura out. He shuffled back a step.
Then I Limit Break blade beamed him. He quickly sheathed his weapon and left it partially uncovered. He absorbed it into his weapon. The energy went from deep blue to crimson. It crackled for a moment.
There was a moment where he grinned at me beneath his mask. In that second I knew I'd fucked up again. Maybe just as bad as when I got Neo hurt.
He lit my world up.
Taurus slashed at me and released a beam of red energy that washed through the bulkheads and my aura. The world was painted red and black for a terrifying moment as he slashed forward.
It opened my chest and pierced right through my aura. It left my golden aura bubbling off to the side of the cut. The attack flung me back and my head slammed hard into a wall.
The ship was sinking quickly now and I was bleeding all over the floor. I drew my scroll and with a press I set off the second charge as Taurus paced towards me like a tiger.
The explosion shook the ship once more. Taurus stumbled. It was enough.
And like that I ran. I flew away and up stairs. I made it to the top deck with Taurus hot on my heels. I hovered to the slipping bow and I jumped. I floated away, my half cape fluttering behind me.
I flew all the way to one of the buildings near the docks and collapsed on a roof.
I watched Avalanche's truck make it's get-away. They left my bike behind. That was fair enough, I suppose. I felt a touch delirious. Blood loss can do that to you. I examined my chest wound. I'd probably need stitches. It would have been worse if not for my armor.
I was slipping into unconsciousness. I tried to hold on desperately but I was hurt pretty badly. I leaned against a wall and I collapsed.
pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq
-WG
#rwby#ff7#ffvii#motion sickness#cloud strife#jaune arc#cloud!jaune arc#sephiroth!jaune arc#neo#neapolitan#biggs#wedge#jessie rasberry#adam taurus#white knight#whiteknight#white rose#whiterose#lancaster#war of the roses#ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ash In Ordina
Chapter Two: ‘Church’
The camera scanned the invitation, and the glass doors whisked open. Ash tucked it back in her cloak and stepped inside the Worship Office. Its vast main hall was nearly empty, supported by several marble pillars adorned with artificial torches, contrasting the square, clinical lighting fixtures illuminating the ceiling. Her footsteps echoed through the hollow expanse. She watched the shadows dance beneath the various grotesque furnishings, embellished with colorful trappings and expensive decorations. She wrinkled her nose. The Redeemed were never doing badly for themselves.
At a desk at the end of the hall were two men wearing typical Rapturist attire who seemed to be waiting for her. The smaller figure immediately smiled and stood up, moving around to the front of the desk with a posture of welcome. He had a messy haircut dyed bright pink to match his large eyes. The second man, a few feet behind him, had a darker complexion and grim countenance, towering over both of them, a large cleaver strapped to his back. Ash met his cold gaze for a moment before the smaller one greeted her.
“Ah, you must be Ash! Your appearance is very distinct, in a good way, miss!”
“Thanks.”
“And um, just to double-check, no last name?”
“No. I’m curious why the Redeemed need to hire a freelancer.”
“Hehe, well…” The man scratched the back of his head before clasping his hands together. “I doubt it’s going to be the usual sort of work you do… rather, we need you to find someone. One of our high-ranking members has seemingly gone missing, you see.”
Ash tilted her head, but stayed silent, waiting for more details. But then the man laughed to himself and spread his arms.
“Sorry sorry, where are my manners! My name is Alistar Fey, Redeemed, director third-echelon, fifth mind. And my partner here is…”
The tall man sighed, cracking his neck as he turned his head. “Andre,” he answered coldly.
Alistar smiled and turned back to Ash. “Politeness is what keeps the world spinning, I think. Which is also why this is a strictly above-board, on-record job.”
“Right. So who’s missing, and why do you need me to find them?”
Silently, Alistar took a small binder from the desk and handed it to her. Ash’s breath caught momentarily as she opened it. Real paper? They’re rich enough for paper after everything they did? Swallowing her annoyance, she skimmed through the details. His name was Zachary Kells. A life-long worshipper, decently wealthy thanks to his job at Skyvault as a researcher and engineer. But it seemed he’d recently left his job to fully devote himself to the Church.
“We’ve tried contacting him, of course,” Alistar said, scratching the back of his head. “But no one has seen or heard from him in nearly a week. He wasn’t involved in anything shady, to my knowledge, and was largely a homebody. His residence is on this floor, and we sent someone to check there, but no answer again. And since he lives in one of the Castles, well…”
Ash closed the binder. “You need someone who’s good at getting inside places they aren’t supposed to. And you don’t want the authorities involved, for reasons which I’m sure you won’t tell me.”
Alistar hesitated. Ash nodded and continued.
“It’s fine. I’ll find him... for the amount we agreed on.”
“Wonderful! Then, that should be all for our business here. Part of me hopes you’ll simply find him at home, but I rather doubt it, unfortunately…”
“Freelancer.” Andre said, taking a step forward for the first time. Ash flicked her eyes towards him and stood up straight, hands open at her sides. He raised an eyebrow and simply folded his arms.
“Watch yourself. Unsavory types buzz around these neighborhoods like hungry flies. Zachary is an important man. I trust you’ll do your best to keep him safe.”
Ash hesitated for a long moment, thoughts swimming beneath the man’s cold gaze. Does he know something about me…? Finally, Ash simply nodded and turned to exit the office hall.
-----
Dark streets caked in rolling fog, dimly illuminated by fading streetlamps. One could almost mistake this for outside, if not for the globes of faint light on the ceiling, nearly two-hundred feet above, staring like gray stars. The housing here, the Castles, were essentially buildings unto themselves, like houses stacked on one another. Security systems and relatively safe neighborhoods, on top of this, were what created the floors home to the wealthier-than-most but not nearly of the mega-rich status.
Ash walked to a street corner two blocks away from the Worship Office, where she found Cygnus waiting for her, playing a game on his phone. He brushed his hair out of his eyes as she approached.
“So, is it about what we figured?”
She shrugged. “No assassinations or whatever. They're just missing one of their top guys. I need your help getting into his place.”
Cygnus nodded, and started following behind her. His face wore the same dark look that Ash figured she had made when she entered the Church. Neither of them liked doing work like this, and Cygnus had even more reason than most to despise the Worship Unity and everything they did. Their footsteps echoed along the cracked street. No one else was milling around this late in the evening. But then, someone made themselves known.
Harsh voices clamored from a nearby alleyway. Scattered around the trash-filled crevice like chattering rats were several individuals of varying appearance, though the black, red-trimmed jackets wrapped around each of their waists indicated they were a group. There were six in total, some tall, some muscular, some squatting on dumpsters, others leaning against the wall. Almost all of them had some kind of augmentation or another - metal arms, thousand-eyes implants, studded or scaled flesh. Their weapons were crude, but looked sharp - probably scavenged from the Bone Forest. They turned to look at the pair as they began to pass, and Ash stopped suddenly as their gazes met. She recognized their appearance, their vibe, and this scent. These were Harvesters without a doubt. Before there could be any pretense of just passing through, the group quickly filed out of the alleyway to block their path, their faces grim yet thrilled. Ash sighed and turned to Cygnus.
“Go on ahead. I'll handle this.”
“… you sure?”
She nodded. Cygnus scanned the group with an analytical look before hesitantly stepping forward, whispering to Ash as he passed.
“Don't get in trouble.”
“I'll do my best.”
He walked past the Harvesters, not meeting any of their sharp looks, and while a couple of them spit in his direction, none of them made a move to attack. The tallest one, most certainly the leader judging by her demeanor, stepped forward. Her arms were muscular and heavily scarred, the sleeves of her jacket were ringed with iron spikes, and she wore a mask that covered the top half of her face, adorned with chaotic black and red designs. Her wild, black-haired ponytail nearly reached her waist. She leaned into Ash's face and laughed.
“How's it going, killer? Where ya heading to? Gonna chop off some more heads with that shitty sword of yours?”
Ash stared back, coldly. Her stomach was tied in a knot, but she didn't let herself panic. She knew this type.
“I don't see how that's your business, bitch.”
The group laughed again, and the woman smiled. Ash knew better than to use honorifics like ‘miss’ around Harvesters. The leader leaned back, walking around Ash as she replied.
“But it IS my business, motherfucker! Our group here, we protect these streets from killers like you!”
She stood in front of her again, folding her arms.
“God damn, are you edgy-lookin’ or what? I would have thought you were some gutless nobody if not for this scent… the scent of blood, so unmistakable… it clings to you like a haze~ and if I had to guess, you can smell it just like us, can’t you…?”
Ash rolled her eyes.
“Maybe.”
“Hahahaha~! So if I had to guess, you’re trying to turn over a new leaf or something? Blood doesn’t dry that easy, kid. A muzzled wolf is still a wolf.”
“You’re right,” Ash said, and flicked an inch of her sword from its sheathe. Its red glow captivated the group for a moment, and several of them brandished their own weapons. “So get out of my way or see the wolf for yourself. I’m not better than any of you. Except in terms of skill.”
Silence filled the street. Strapped across the lead woman’s back was a massive saw-cleaver that made Ash’s katana look like a knife. She sniffed a few times, then smirked. Behind her lips, her teeth had been replaced with sharper ones modeled after a shark’s. She stepped forward, and offered a hand.
“Name’s Tesla. Any chance you’d wanna join us…? We make serious dough off the rich idiots on this floor~”
Ash didn’t take her hand.
“Those days are behind me. I hunt different prey now.”
She made sure to phrase her words correctly, sweat forming on her clenched palms. To most gangs, you're either a threat, or nothing to worry about. To Harvesters, you're either a threat, or a walking pay-out. And either option makes them liable to kill you. But mercifully, Tesla shrugged and finally backed out of her personal space.
“Fair enough, I guess… but don't go thinking you're done being a Harvester. Everyone who's alive has to take from others to keep living. At least the lives we take are put to good use when we sell off their lungs and heart!
“Save the preaching for the church.”
The other Harvesters laughed and playfully punched Tesla, yelling ‘she got you good!’ as Ash continued down the street, her cloak wandering in the breeze.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Final Days of the Hero of Kvatch
Contains major spoilers!!!
Many years had passed since the Oblivion Crisis, but in the dream’s eye of the Hero of Kvatch, it was all happening for the first time. The dead, charred bodies of soldiers and civilians alike strewn in the street of the temple district, killed indiscriminately by daedra and even Mehrunes Dagon himself. Daedra in numbers she had never seen pouring from the great gate at Bruma as she slashed her way through to stop the siege machine, her body shuddering on the impact of weapons and spells. The Amulet of Kings resting on the accursed and unworthy neck of Mankar Camaron as she cut him down in his own Paradise.
The old Dunmer woman leaped from her bed, ready to defend the heir to the Septim throne with her life before her waking eyes finally cleared. She exhaled a slow, tired breath and lowered her fists. She rubbed her shoulders, aching from a night of thrashing in bed and dressed slowly. It was still far too early in the morning to truly start her day, but whenever she had these nightmares, and she found them growing more frequent of late, she would walk to the nearby chapel of Akatosh, which she herself had helped to rebuild.
She stepped out of her small home just as a watchman on a horse was passing by, holding a torch aloft. “Everything alright ma’am?”
“Of course, Darmir. Just making my way to the chapel.” He nodded kindly.
“Stay safe.” He continued on his way and she smiled to herself. Young men like him always made her think of her son. He and a few of the other Blades would be coming by to visit that afternoon. She had planned to make them some sweet rolls, but that depended on the state of her arthritis.
She came to the chapel doors and slowly pushed one open to enter. The chapel was empty save for the priest, who was knelt in morning prayer before the Altar of The Nine. She approached the smaller Altar of Akatosh and carefully, but still not without pain, lowered herself to her knees there to pray. In recent years, she began to hear a distant, familiar voice calling to her and the whisper of a hand resting on her shoulder when she prayed here. She knew the voice and that its slow approach meant that her time was drawing near. She told no one, though. She saw no reason to worry those around her. This morning was no different. She heard his voice, as if submerged in water from across the room and felt the light brush of finger tips on her shoulder, lifting away her pain. She closed her eyes.
“I am grateful for your blessing and guidance,” she murmured. “I will see you again soon.” She prayed for several more minutes before gripping the edge of the altar and beginning the arduous process of lifting herself back to her feet. The priest, noticing her struggles, rushed over to help her up.
“Ma’am, please let someone know if you need help. I hate to see you like this.” She smiled.
“Thank you for your help, brother.” She patted his hand and walked towards the door. He watched her leave with pity, imagining how mighty she must have been in her youth.
She made her way home in the pale blue light of dawn. Her part of the city was still mostly quiet, but a few homes had lit candles and the sound of the slow, thumping footsteps of people barely awake.
At home, she rubbed her hands gently to assess their level of pain. There was none, and she glanced with a smile at the small stone statue of a roaring dragon with outstretched wings in the corner of her kitchen. She began to make dough for sweet rolls.
The rolls were nearly done when there came a knock at the door. She could hear the voices of a few men talking quietly on the step. She set aside the glaze for the nearly cooled pastries and hurried to the door. She threw it open to embrace her son. “My boy! How I missed you!” Martin Talos smiled sheepishly.
“It’s good to see you, Mama.” She stepped back, looking up at his face for a moment before glancing at the other two men, a Redguard and a Wood Elf, standing behind her son.
“Come in, come in! Introduce me to your fellow Blades while I finish the sweet rolls.” The three men followed the Hero of Kvatch inside and sat at her kitchen table, looking positively enormous compared to the small, round slab of wood between them. She poured each of them a glass of ale and listened to them talk as she iced the rolls. She served them and sat beside her son at the table. She listened to their conversation but didn’t speak often, merely enjoying their company. She was reminded fondly of her days as a knight sister of the Blades and her serene smile grew wider for a moment.
The afternoon passed quickly and soon it was time for Martin Talos’ fellows to find a place at the inn nearby. The Hero of Kvatch and her son bid them farewell for the night and she went to the spare room to ready her son’s bed. She returned to the kitchen shortly and sat at the table.
“Son, I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything.”
“I would like you to accompany me to the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. I’m too old now to make the journey on my own.”
“Are you sure? You haven’t been in years. You said it’s too painful.”
“Yes. I’m sure. I feel called there, and it’s time I paid my old friend a visit.”
“Then I will. I’ll send the others back with the message to the grandmaster that I’ll be back later than expected and we can leave whenever you want. Just let me know when you’re ready.” She smiled and kissed his forehead.
“I am truly blessed to have such a good son. Get some rest now, I’d like to leave as soon as possible.” They both rose and he embraced his mother before retiring to his room. She quietly cleaned up the kitchen before going to bed herself.
In the morning, Martin Talos went off to the inn to give his message to his friends while his mother readied a small bag to take with her. He returned just in time to see her strapping her old katana from her days as a Blade round her waist.
“Mama, you don’t need to bring that. If we meet trouble along the way, I’ll protect you.”
“Don’t write me off as some defenseless old woman yet.” She smiled wryly.
“You’re not defenseless. If you’re in danger, you have a defense. Me.”
“Oh let me bring it. It’ll make me feel better.”
“If you insist. Are you ready?” She nodded and he picked up her bag. Together they walked outside and he helped her onto an old paint horse before lithely lifting himself onto his own.
They took the journey at a slow pace. What might have taken him alone a day at most took them three, but neither seemed to mind. They talked along the way, she recounting her stories of old and he sharing his new tales. They stayed at inns at night and ate well as a small family.
On their last night, the Hero of Kvatch had a nightmare. It was the same as always, but when she leaped out of bed and didn’t recognize her surroundings even when she became lucid, she screamed. Martin Talos was out of his bed in a flash.
“Mama, what’s the matter?! Are you hurt?” She stared at him for a moment, wide eyed, fists still at the ready. She lowered her hands gradually, exhaling through her nose.
“Yes... I’m... I’m fine.” She sat down on her bed, but her son’s concerned gaze was still on her. “Go back to bed.”
“No. I’m worried about you. Is there something I can do to help?”
“Pray with me.” He quickly sat beside her and took her hand, bowing his head. That familiar voice she heard was now closer than it had ever been, as if the speaker was at the end of the bed. She opened one eye to confirm that her son heard nothing. She closed her eye and felt a phantom touch on her shoulder. She slowly relaxed and kissed her son’s cheek. “Thank you.” He smiled and rose, returning to his own bed. She laid back down herself and went to sleep once more.
They arrived in the temple district around sunset the following day. With their horses stabled outside the gate, Martin Talos and his mother walked slowly towards the temple with the massive stone dragon protruding from its still shattered roof. The sunset bathed the dragon in a brilliant orange light, almost as if it was still a burning avatar. They entered the temple and the Hero of Kvatch walked forward to kneel before the dragon. Her son followed her.
“Let me help you.” She eyed him with a stern, motherly look.
“No, Martin Talos, I will do this myself.” He smiled good naturedly and kissed her forehead.
“Alright. just don’t hurt yourself.” She squeezed his hand lightly and slowly lowered herself to the ground, bending her aching body forward so her forehead touched the dragon’s inexplicably warm claw. Martin Talos stepped back, watching. In his eye, he only saw his mother kneeling, but in her soul’s eye, she saw something different. She felt a hand on her shoulder, but now it felt just as real and present as anything. She looked up to see a familiar man in priest’s robes, the Amulet of Kings at his throat.
“Martin...” He smiled kindly at her.
“My friend, Champion of Cyrodiil... come with me. Akatosh calls your name.” He offered her his hand and helped her soul to rise from her body. Together, they tread air into sacred ground, leaving the temple, the city, and the world behind them.
#hero of kvatch#tes#oblivion#martin septim#the elder scrolls#skyrim#im actually really proud of this one tbh
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bound―Chapter 4: Hunters
Summary: Diana and Gaius go hunting in Rome for monsters and answers.
AO3 | Masterlist
Pairing: Gaius Augustine/Diana Leigh (BB MC)
Rome, Italy, 2042
Several nights later, Diana sat alone, hunched over a desk in a grand hotel suite, her bedroom lit only by a small desk lamp and the glow of her computer screen. She rubbed her eyes, her screen coming in and out of focus as she read the same paragraph for the fifth time.
The city of Rome is home to many ancient artifacts, many dating as far back as the Period of Kings. A number of relics had been discovered during the construction of the underground Subway in 1955. Some architects claim that there is still more history to be found beneath the city’s foundations, although excavation projects would uproot many homes and businesses, as well as test the limits of existing infrastructure. It is evident that whatever secrets lay beneath the earth will have to stay hidden.
Diana glanced at her notebook, spread open to the pages on which she had written everything she could remember about the newest artifact that had appeared in her dreams. It was a double-handled, lidded amphora, made of red ceramic and decorated with black paint that had flaked and cracked with age. Depicted on the side was a scene that appeared to be a sort of burial ritual. Five men dressed in finery and crowned in wreaths of woven laurel surrounded some sort of raised structure; upon it lay another man whose face was covered by a mask of gold foil, not unlike the one Gaius wore after being freed of the Onyx Sarcophagus.
Dozens of tabs were open in numerous windows from her attempts to cross-reference the amphora in Diana’s dreams with all of the known recovered artifacts, of both public and private ownership, but so far, none of them had matched or even held any clue as to where it was hidden. Although she had dreamed of this object several times before, it appeared now with increasing frequency ever since the morning they arrived in Rome a little over a week ago, so Diana took that as a sign it was located somewhere in the city. It certainly looked Roman and when she showed her sketch of it to Gaius, he agreed. She figured who better to trust than the man who actually lived while amphoras were in style?
Diana groaned, combing her hands in her hair and leaning back in her chair as she tried not to think about how if Lily were here, they already would have figured it out.
God, she missed Lily. She missed home.
Diana pushed away from the table, shaking her head. Best not to go down that path right now. She had come to Europe to get some space, to think things through on her own, and to find these damn artifacts. She was going to see this through, and the best way to do it was to focus. She stood, snatching her long coat and sword as she left her bedroom and crossed the main living space to where Gaius lingered, preparing to head out for the night in search of trouble.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Diana said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If I stare at that screen any longer, my brain will melt.”
Gaius huffed, glancing over his shoulder at her as he clipped his scabbard to his belt. Now that it was dark and fewer people were roaming about, he didn’t need the sports bag to conceal it. “I highly doubt that.”
“I’m coming with you tonight,” Diana stated, strapping her katana across her back and shoving her feet into her shoes.
“No.” He didn’t even bother to turn around, retrieving his jacket from the closet by the door.
Diana lowered her brows, gripping the door frame as she struggled to get her heel in her boot. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t need any help,” Gaius answered into the closet. “And someone might recognize you.”
“You’re just as recognizable as I am,” she countered with a scowl. “Besides,” Diana added, pulling her hood up over her head. “You can’t even tell who I am like this.”
Gaius spared a glance in her direction and rolled his eyes, tugging on his coat and closing the door with his elbow. “Yes, you can. You’re not coming with me.”
“Okay, well I’m not asking.” Diana brushed past him, blocking the front door and resting her hand on the handle. “I’m not learning anything by staying in here researching. And waiting for visions that clearly aren’t coming. If I go out, maybe I’ll pick up on something. A feeling, a clue.”
Gaius strode up to her, arms folded. “No.”
“Then I’ll go out on my own and search by myself,” Diana decided, tilting her chin up defiantly as she tugged the door open.
Gaius scoffed. “Go ahead. I don’t care. But if you get into trouble, that’s your problem.”
Really.
“Alright,” Diana shrugged, slipping out of the room and into the hallway. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
She walked off down the ornately furnished hall towards the elevator, her feet near silent on the plush carpet. Diana had just pressed the call button when she heard a soft swear and the door to her suite swing shut. The elevator doors opened with a ding! and Diana fought to hide her smirk as she strode inside and turned, leaning against the back wall with her arms casually folded.
As the doors began to slide shut, a hand slammed against them and Gaius stepped through, scowling at her. “Fine.”
Diana blinked innocently up at him, then reached around his waist to press the button for the first floor. “What?”
“You can come with me,” Gaius huffed, exasperated as he looked down at her. “But no blasts of psychic energy and no touching random things. No touching random things to emit blasts of psychic energy, either.”
“I can do that,” Diana nodded, clasping her hands together and resting them on her thighs, the perfect picture of obedience, a soldier listening to commands.
Gaius eyed her for a long moment before sighing deeply. He closed his eyes, leaning his back against the elevator wall. “You are so tiresome, do you realize that? How Kamilah managed to put up with you for twenty years, I do not know.”
“It took a while for her to warm up to me,” Diana supplied, fiddling with the strap of her sword as she watched the numbers on the elevator’s digital display go down as they descended towards the ground floor of the hotel. “But I will always be grateful that she did.”
“Mm.” Gaius merely nodded, eyes distant but thoughtful, staring absently at some point on the chrome surface of the elevator door. Diana could just make out their muddled forms in the reflective surface, a blur of dark colors, barely an impression of the people it sought to represent.
“Do you miss her?” Diana asked delicately, carefully studying his face for any hint as to what he was thinking. “Kamilah, I mean.”
Gaius’s brows pulled together as he glanced over at her, opening his mouth to speak but pausing in hesitation. The look that passed between them only lasted for a split second, but for a moment, Diana thought he looked sad. Unfathomably, irrevocably sad.
Then the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open with an automated ding! Gaius blinked, composing his face into a mask of neutrality once more as he shook his head and left the elevator. Diana followed him out of the hotel lobby, glancing over at the front desk which sat unoccupied, a single silver bell gleaming on the counter.
“Yes and no,” Gaius said at last once they emerged outside onto a dimly lit street. Beautiful buildings rose all around them, adorned with ornate statues and vaulted windows. Diana tore her gaze from the wonders around her, fixing her gaze on Gaius’s profile.
“What do you mean?”
Gaius glanced at her sidelong for a moment, then upon seeing she was watching him, stiffly looked ahead. “I mean that of course, I miss Kamilah. I was with her for two-thousand years.” The corners of his lips turned down ever so slightly, his eyes troubled. “Despite everything Rheya did to me, that was real at least. My love for her was real. Is real.”
“But?” Diana prompted, sensing there was more that he still wanted to say.
“But,” he continued, rolling his eyes at her prodding. “Do I miss the old days, when we were together?” Gaius sighed, pausing as they came to a crossroads. He glanced up and down the street before them, searching for any signs of distress. Finding none, he continued straight and picked up the conversation before Diana could urge him further. “No. I don’t miss that. How can I, knowing how much pain I have caused her? Knowing how much she regrets those years? How much she despises the woman she had been when she was with me?”
“But not all of it was bad, right?” Diana’s brows drew together as she recalled some of the memories she had seen with her Bloodkeeper abilities. “There were happy times, without anyone manipulating the other. There were parts of you―good parts of you―that she truly loved.”
“Do not patronize me, Diana,” Gaius snapped, though there was no malice behind his words. “Regardless of its nature, our relationship is in the past. And it will stay there. I do no not want it back, for both of our sakes.”
Diana frowned but nodded. That was fair. Kamilah was one of her dearest friends and she would hate to see her get hurt, regardless of how much Gaius had changed.
“Thank you,” she said after long moment had passed. Gaius lifted an eyebrow at her, the corners of his mouth tight. Diana added, “For being honest with me.”
Gaius looked away, expression unreadable. “I figure there’s no use hiding anything from you. You can take what you want anyways.”
“I―” Diana halted, brows furrowed. “Gaius, I…” She pursed her lips, shaking her head. She felt cold all over, as if she had been plunged into a frozen lake. Did he really think so lowly of her? “I wouldn’t do that to you. I don’t… do that. I’m not Rheya.”
Gaius paused and turned to face her. Upon seeing her face, his expression softened slightly, regret and shame flickering in his eyes, just for a second. “No. You aren’t.”
He took a step towards her, arm raised as if to reach out for her before thinking better of it. Gaius’s hand fell uselessly to his side as he shook his head. His voice was the gentlest she’d ever heard it. “You’re the farthest thing from her, Diana. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Diana swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced away. “No, you shouldn’t have.”
She could feel Gaius’s gaze on her as she continued walking, her eyes pointedly fixed on some point in the distance. Once she had reached him he continued on, leading them through the city of Rome in silence.
She couldn’t explain why his opinion of her had suddenly mattered to her so much. Why the notion of her being someone Gaius could fear made her so, incredibly sad.
It was a little past midnight when Diana felt something.
She and Gaius were fighting off two Ferals in some dingy alleyway not far from the River Tiber, although Diana wasn’t really sure she could consider this encounter a fight. It was an execution. She knew Gaius would never admit it, but the two of them made a formidable pair. Twin whirlwinds of death and steel, they made quick work of any trouble they encountered, from rogue werewolves, to Ferals, to European imps that Diana considered to be more a nuisance than a threat.
Diana had just staked her Feral through the heart, blood singing with adrenaline and the thrill of the fight when she felt a tingling at the base of her scalp that quickly spread, overriding her senses. She drew in a sharp breath, “Gaius.”
Then she was engulfed in another vision. She was no longer aware of the comforting weight of her sword in her hand or the gentle breeze that stirred the falling ash around her as she glimpsed a familiar landmark, a circular arena, a shadowy tunnel, and then a decrepit corridor leading to a long-forgotten chamber. Within was a rectangular-shaped stone platform, and on it―
“The amphora!” Diana gasped as she was thrown from the vision. She was back in the alley, breathing hard as if she had been underwater for too long. She had never experienced a vision so strong and visceral without a needing physical trigger or sleeping.
“Diana.”
She came to her senses, finally seeing the concern in the pale blue eyes before her, registering the hand gripping her shoulder and the gentler one cradling her cheek. Gaius.
Seeing the clarity in her eyes again, Gaius drew back, hastily releasing her arm and dropping his hand from her face as if touching her had scalded him. “What was that? A vision?”
“Yes, I…” she blinked, trying to clear her head. That was more disorienting than usual. “I saw the amphora. It’s here.”
“That’s vague,” Gaius rolled his eyes. “Here where? This cursed alley?”
But Diana was already moving, letting her instincts guide her. Despite the hazy nature of her vision, she had this indescribable feeling in her gut, like she knew exactly where to go. She left the alley, making an immediate right, chasing the feeling she had before it could slip away.
“Diana!” Behind her, Gaius hissed, “Damn it.”
She kept going, reassured by the sound of his footsteps not far behind. She made several turns, quickening her pace as the feeling in her gut grew stronger until she was running, Gaius right behind her, scowling and muttering under his breath along the way.
When she finally came to a stop, her blood singing, here, it’s here, she gaped in disbelief. No way.
“Damn it, Diana,” Gaius snarled as he stopped beside her, lips pulled into an irritated scowl. “I’m not some sort of dog, here to chase you around―”
He cut himself off abruptly as he followed her line of sight, eyes widening as if he had just realized where she had been taking them. Gaius turned from the Roman Colosseum and back to her, his mouth a harsh line. “No.”
Diana tore her gaze away from the historical arena, her chest rising and falling not from exertion but exhilaration. Finally, she had a lead. She blinked at him. “No? What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“I mean, no, it’s not in there,” he snapped, clearly still irritated at being led around Rome without an explanation just to wind up at some tourist attraction. “That’s the Roman Colosseum, Diana. If there was some sort of artifact hidden inside, historians already would have found it. And if your artifact is in there, it’s on display in the museum. And we are not breaking into the Colosseum museum.”
“Since when did you become a stickler for the rules,” she retorted, shooting him a withering glare. She took a deep breath, centering herself. She was not about to fight with him here. “Besides, I don’t think it’s literally in the Colosseum. I think… I think it’s beneath it. I saw a tunnel, but it hadn’t looked like it had been touched in centuries. I don’t think anyone knows about it.”
Gaius huffed through his nose, still discontent, but folded his arms and turned to face the Colosseum again, his brows furrowed in thought. “In the early years after I was Turned, there were rumors about passageways beneath the Colosseum. Even further underground than the tunnels gladiators used. Emperors and high ranking officials supposedly used them to travel in secret. Some said it was for their safety and to keep their affairs secret, although to be fair, there wasn’t a single man in the Senate who didn’t have at least one other mistress, and everyone knew that. But I also heard that there were secret chambers connected to the tunnels for who knows what.”
“Yes!” Diana blurted, her excitement getting the better of her. Then seeing the reproach in Gaius’s eyes, she lowered her voice, careful not to draw any attention. Although there seemed to be no one around and they had encountered very few humans in the last couple of hours, it was best to be cautious. “That’s what I saw in my vision. The passageway led to this chamber, with this slab of marble at the center, like a table, or a bench. But it didn’t have legs, so it was more like a big pedestal, I guess.”
“Big enough for a body?”
“Um, yes,” Diana said slowly, brows knitting. “I suppose so.”
“That sounds like a ritual room,” Gaius frowned, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. “For private funerals hosted by the family and confidantes of important people before the public cremation ceremony.”
Diana’s heart stopped. “The painting on the side of the amphora,” she whispered, the realization dawning on her. “That’s what it was showing. Some sort of secret burial rite.”
Gaius’s frown deepened, his shoulders tense beneath his coat. “The more I learn about this artifact of yours, the less certain I am that we should find it.”
“Scared?” Diana challenged with a smirk, although if she was being honest, there was some small part of her that agreed with him.
Gaius leveled her with a cool gaze, immune to her attempts to rustle his feathers. “No. But maybe we should be.”
That sent a shiver down her spine. She turned away from him, studying the area around them. “You’re right about one thing. If there was a tunnel leading directly from the Colosseum, people would have found it by now.”
“It’s possible that the entrance from the Colosseum to your passageway has collapsed,” Gaius pondered, drawing her attention once again. “But that still leaves the question of how we find it.”
Diana chewed her lip, trying to recall her vision. The Colosseum, the passageway, the chamber, and… and another tunnel. Before the passageway, there was an underground tunnel, barely lit by lights in the distance. She focused, willing the image to become clear… Cement. The tunnel was formed of smooth, poured cement, which meant it was somewhat modern.
“There’s another underground tunnel,” she said, brows furrowed in concentration as kept the mental image in focus. “It was built more recently. At least within the last century.”
A number of relics had been discovered during the construction of the underground subway in 1955.
Diana whipped her head up, seizing Gaius’s wrist. He startled as if burned, flinching away from her touch but she held fast. “The Metro. It was constructed in 1955. Does it run beneath the Colosseum?”
“I don’t know if it runs beneath it, but it certainly comes close enough,” he said, making a point to pry her fingers from his wrist with his free hand, lip curled. He nodded into the distance. “There’s a station just across the street.”
“Perfect,” Diana grinned, gripping his hand just after he freed his wrist and tugging him along in the direction he indicated. “Do you know if it’s still running?”
“You don’t need to hold my hand for this,” Gaius grumbled, although he gave up on trying to extract himself from her grip. “And no, the last train should have stopped running around 11:30. Trains will be operational again around 5:30.”
“Good. We should leave before dawn anyway.” Diana led him to the subway station, its entrance blocked by a large metal gate. With her free hand, she gripped the padlock that was chained to the bars and closed her eyes, channeling some of her power through her fingertips, willing the inner mechanisms to move accordingly. The lock came undone in her hand and she unlooped the chain from the gate, letting it swing open before them.
The station’s interior lights were off. Diana crept forward, pausing at the top of the stairs where the moonlight gave way to a gaping maw of darkness. She pulled her phone out, using its flashlight to see more of the station. Even with her enhanced vampire senses, the darkness here was smothering. Despite the tingling sensation at the back of her skull that reassured her they were on the right path, she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. Who knew what lurked in these tunnels at night?
She thought about all that she had learned tonight regarding the amphora and its connection to some mysterious burial rite. Perhaps Gaius was right. Maybe the artifact was better left unfound.
But then again, if she didn’t retrieve it, there was always the chance that someone else could. And who knew what could happen then?
Diana looked up at Gaius, surprised to note that she found strength in his presence, calm and steady beside her. “Ready?”
Gaius turned his gaze upon her and Diana sensed his resolution. She straightened ever so slightly. Whatever lay inside these tunnels, they could handle it. Gaius squeezed her hand once, then released it as he unsheathed his sword and nodded. “Yes.”
And then they descended into the shadows.
“I know one of the perks of being a vampire is having enhanced senses,” Diana muttered as she and Gaius wandered through the underground tunnels of the metro system. “But maybe we should have brought a flashlight. Or another phone.”
She turned to Gaius, swinging her phone’s flashlight in a wide arc as she did. “We should get you a phone.”
Gaius huffed, eyes trained ahead as he continued on, one hand wreathed in blue flame while the other held his sword at the ready. “And why would we do that?”
“Well, for one thing, if you had a phone, we’d have another light.” Diana rolled her eyes. Even with Gaius’s fire and her phone flashlight, the darkness felt smothering. “For another, it would help you communicate. Stay in touch with the modern world. You could use it to look things up. Do some research. You know about Google, right?”
“Why are you so talkative.” Gaius grumbled at her. It wasn’t really a question. “And I don’t need it to ‘stay in touch.’ The only person I talk to is you.”
“It doesn’t have to be just me,” Diana shrugged, sweeping her light back and forth. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was looking for. A gaping hole in the side of the tunnel leading to the passageway seemed unlikely. Perhaps a door to a service room.
Gaius scoffed. “Who else? Adrian?”
She shot him an irritated look. “I don’t know. It was just a suggestion. No need to shoot the gift horse in the mouth.”
“That is not how the saying goes,” he huffed, stepping over a random puddle of water.
“But it works,” Diana shrugged. “I was offering to get you a phone, so I’m the gift horse. And not only are you questioning the value of my gift, but you are being particularly rude about it. Thus shooting me in the mouth. Just like you would a messenger.”
“I don’t want a phone,” Gaius grumbled, gritting his teeth.
“Well good, because I’m retracting my offer anyway!” Diana snapped and he rolled his eyes.
They continued on in silence, their footsteps echoing in the empty tunnel. Diana sighed to herself, wondering if perhaps the passageway wasn’t down here at all and they weren’t any closer to finding the amphora than they were a week ago. But then she felt a sudden chill, the hair on the back of her neck standing up.
She paused, reaching for her sword. “Gaius. Did you feel that?”
He nodded, lips pressed into a grim line. “I felt it.
There was a scuttling sound and Diana stiffened, fingers wrapping around the hilt of her sword. Silently, she moved closer to Gaius and turned off her flashlight at the same time Gaius extinguished his fire, plunging them into total darkness. She felt Gaius’s hand, warm and comforting against her back. Subconsciously, she leaned into his touch.
After a moment, she heard the sound again. This time, it was much closer, much clearer, and drawn out for a longer amount of time. As Diana listened, her blood turned to ice. That wasn’t the sound of something scuttling around. Those were voices. Snickering. Chattering.
They couldn’t be Ferals. Ferals couldn’t speak like that. They could only hiss, snarl, and scream. And even though Diana couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, she could tell by the rise and fall of their voices that they were conversing with one another.
Diana opened her mouth, about to whisper to Gaius when she heard him, loud and clear.
Quiet.
Diana startled, clamping her hand over her mouth as she jerked her head in his direction even though she could barely make out his outline. She had heard him, but not aloud. In her mind.
She sensed his own shock, shock at somehow wordlessly conveying his thoughts to her without the psychic ability to do so.
Tentatively, she reached out to him with her mind and found some sort of connection. This wasn’t the product of psychic power. She had spoken into minds before, had bridged her consciousness to someone else’s for a few moments to communicate, but this was different. This had formed on its own.
Hesitantly, she called down the bond. Gaius?
She heard the hitch in his voice, so slight that it was only audible because it was absolutely silent.
It was silent. The voices...
Diana’s whole body went cold. This wasn’t the silence of solitude. This was the silence that came from listening.
Diana’s body kicked into action, driven by primal instinct, and she unsheathed her sword at the same time a hundred red eyes opened around them.
Tagging: @bigmemesplz, @somin-yin, @bachelorettebound14, @mkamra2355
#gaius augustine#gaius x mc#My writing#bloodbound#kamilah sayeed#adrian raines#lily spencer#jax matsuo#choices#rheya apostolous#serafine dupont#my fic
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
84. Fringe
Rei could hardly believe it when she got the news. Lord Third had handed her that congratulatory slip of paper and nothing felt real anymore. She was only seventeen and she had finally made jonin.
First there was shock. Did she even deserve this? She wasn’t sure that she did. She didn’t think she was ready. After all, there was still so much she had yet to learn. Making jonin was for the truly skilled, those who had swathes of jutsu in their mental inventory and impeccable strength. She possessed neither, she was convinced of that much. When she protested, however, the hokage huffed impatiently on his pipe and stared at her with a sharp gaze.
“I would not have promoted you if I did not think you were ready” he replied. “Your sensei has vouched for you, and I’ve seen it myself in the missions reports that you are a talented kunoichi deserving of such a title. Please accept the promotion.” Or else you’re arguing with authority, he thought. While he did not say that last part, Rei could sense it in his rapidly decreasing tolerance.
Once the shock subsided, and she had finally accepted that this was happening, there was a moment of delight. Perhaps the world was not out to get her after all, and she truly was deserving of such a rank. She had worked hard enough, at least. She tried to convince herself that no matter what, she did deserve this. She tried to let herself rejoice in the recognition of her work.
As she made her way home, however, the happiness was quickly replaced with fear. What would her parents think? This was just another notch in the long log of unacceptable accomplishments. She was climbing too high up the ladder, putting herself in far too much danger. There was no way they would be pleased. They might even be angry, or so mind-numbingly furious that they would kick her out and disown her. She slowed her pace and huffed her long bangs out of her face. Whatever defiance they dish out, I can accept it, she told herself. She just hoped she could truly believe that.
She avoided the subject for as long as she could upon returning home. Her father was busy calculating that week’s finances as her mother stood in the kitchen cooking dinner. Grandma Teiko had set out upon sewing yet another new vest for the local shinobi. The frequency of her work had dwindled over the years as her eyesight decreased and her hands grew less steady, but it brought Rei immeasurable comfort to see the old woman involving herself in whatever way possible. She was an honorary leader of the Konoha Grandmother’s Coalition: a group of elderly women, many retired ninja themselves, who worked to express their gratitude by handsewing every ninja vest won by the village’s hardworking shinobi. Rei wondered if Teiko ever regretted never becoming part of the culture herself, and if this was her way of making up for it. Today, she was hard at work on an ANBU vest, a far rarer treat than the standard jonin uniform.
“The trick to these” Grandma Teiko said softly, ceasing to look up from her work, “Is to create a strong stitch on the straps. These go through much more wear and tear than the other ones do and have to support the katana on the back.” Here, she ran a knobby finger down the back of the vest to point to the two loops which held the sword.
Rei had seated herself at the old woman’s feet, much like a child, and watched her work. So far, she was certain she had only seen her grandmother work on three other ANBU vests in her life, one of which she was certain was for Kakashi. She was only twelve that day when she arrived home, Teiko glancing up at her with a glimmering, knowing gaze. A shiver coursed through Rei’s body and she rushed back to her bedroom in an attempt to suppress the impending anxiety attack. Now, at seventeen, she was less fearful. She knew of no one else appointed to the ANBU and therefore the vest held no real significance to her. It was just another piece of equipment, a scrap of fabric held together by thread.
The wonderful thing about Rei and Teiko’s relationship was that they were comfortable amid silence. Rei was unsure how long she sat there for, but in that time they hardly said anything else to one another. Grandma Teiko worked slowly, methodically, pausing every so often to stretch her fingers. Rei simply watched her with knees drawn up to her chest, fully intrigued by such mundane and delicate work. It was like a dance, really, watching her loop and tug the needle in her trademark overprotective stitching. She would feed the needle down and then up again, tugging it through the loop the thread made on every stitch. The process took twice as long but the work was, as she said, twice as sturdy—a necessity for someone as agile and dangerous as an ANBU.
While many of the vests Grandma Teiko made were blocky and proportionate, this one, however, was rather unusual. It was slim at the waist but wider around the breast to indicate that perhaps it was fit for a woman—and a well-endowed one at that. Rei wondered what kind of person would receive this vest, what she looked like and her personality. Based on it’s length, she assumed the recipient was rather short, perhaps almost even the size of a preteen, but with breasts like that there was no way she was younger than 25. She was probably strong, determined, powerful. The kind of woman who walked the streets with a confident air dictating she was not of this world, not of the common people. A warrior queen, perhaps, like in Grandma Teiko’s old stories. The kind of woman who always knew what she wanted, who never accepted less than she deserved, and who never compromised for a man. Those were the kinds of women Rei was raised on, spent her youth idolizing. They fueled her future prospects and served as her true ideals. If only they seemed as attainable now as they did back then. She doubted she would ever reach that level of spunk, fire, and tenacity.
Come sunset, her father shuffled out of the office looking frazzled and tired. Hana peeked her head into the living room with a smile to announce that dinner was ready. She set the table as Yuruganai made himself comfortable, clearing his throat and cleaning his glasses with the hem of his shirt. Rei leapt to her feet to help Grandma Teiko up (despite her insistence that she wasn’t an invalid yet) but as she did so, the old woman caught sight of the corner of a paper sticking out of Rei’s pouch.
“What’s this?” Teiko asked, raising a brow and tugging at the page.
All the color drained from Rei’s face as she clapped her hands over her butt and pasted a large grin on her face. “It’s nothing!” she insisted. “Just some paperwork from earlier, nothing you need to be concerned about.”
Hana, overhearing her daughter’s outburst, peered out curiously before asking “Rei, sweetheart, is something the matter?” Then her eyes flashed to Rei’s current pose, taking note of her hands covering her behind, and asked, “Do you need a laxative?”
Great. Just the type of embarrassment I need, Rei thought to herself. “No, Mom, I’m, uh…I’m just fine” she replied through gritted teeth. How could she possibly be expected to face them like this now that they had made things ten times more awkward? Even if she was actually constipated, her current anxiety levels would no doubt have remedied that immediately. Grinding her teeth, she shuffled into the dining room and sunk down at the table, pressing a palm to her forehead.
Her father looked at her, her mind slowly descending into madness, and shook his head. “If your bangs are really bothering you that much, you might as well just cut them off” he remarked. “No use walking around with one eye covered if there’s nothing wrong with either of them. It’s a wonder how you haven’t gotten yourself killed out there yet with your vision impaired like it is.”
And thus began the snide commentary. It was always something with her father and lately Rei’s hair had been a rather hot topic. While as a child her unkempt side-swept bangs barely reached her eyebrows, now they cascaded all the way down to her chin. Technically they were long enough to pull back into her ponytail but she couldn’t be bothered. If she pulled all of her hair back flat against her head, she looked like an egg. Pale, big, and round with an unsightly crack right across the midsection. Besides, having her hair in front of her face was her own choice. She refused to follow the normal conventions of society, refused to be trim and proper and tidy. She was a fucking ninja for hell’s sake. Nothing about her screamed poise. That may have been true for Naru but not for her.
As confident as she tried to seem about her stylistic choices, however, part of the reason behind the bangs was also rooted in shame. She hated that scar on her face. It was disgusting and she was convinced she was terrifingly ugly because of it. She could’ve covered it with a bandage like Kotetsu but that drew too much attention to the wound. It announced that there was something hiding beneath the thin white fabric, inciting curiosity and creating mystery. Rei did not want mystery. She wanted to be invisible. Makeup was only mildly helpful, but she refused to paint over her face every day for the rest of her life. It was too much work. She didn’t have the energy. The bangs, however, seemed a prime choice. They didn’t cover the scar completely, but they covered enough. They were low maintenance and detracted from the overly circular shape of her face. She only trimmed them every so often with a blunt kunai, leaving split ends and a jagged edge but when she looked at herself like this in the mirror, she felt unapologetically truthful to herself. Her hair was a reflection of herself: unkempt, half-interested, dual-natured, and half-assed. It was the mask she wore every day to keep everyone else out of her sight—literally.
Grandma Teiko swatted at the air and made a sour face as she slowly sat down at the table. “Leave the girl alone, Yuri” she replied. “And get the stick out of your ass while you’re at it.”
Yuruganai grimaced toward his mother and shook his head. “How is she supposed to be seen as a respectable young woman with her hair constantly in her face?” he argued.
A knowing smirk touched Grandma Teiko’s face as she replied with every ounce of sass, “I used to have a mohawk. Was I not respectable?”
Rei’s father stammered a moment, knowing that whatever he said could and would be used against him. After a few moments without any substantial reply, he simply huffed like a fussy child and muttered something under his breath along the lines of “Well, I still think my daughter should look respectable.” All Rei could manage was a frustrated roll of her eyes as she sank even further into her seat.
Hana chewed her lower lip as she glanced to her husband then her daughter and back. “Well, your father does have a point…” she replied meekly. “It would be nice if you made yourself a little more presentable.”
Scoffing, Rei asked, “Why? I don’t need to look like a porcelain doll to carry out missions. It’s not my job to look pretty.” She had had enough of that when she was working espionage at Club Loli. She saw the way those men looked at her—the way they looked at pretty girls. It wasn’t anything flattering. It was a ravenous hunger, a desperation to use and abuse as if they were disposable products. Taking a bite of her food, she added with mouth full, “I’m the last thing a person could see before they die, and I don’t want them to go out thinking I’m pretty. I want them to go out thinking I’m terrifying.”
“Well…” Hana considered softly. “It’s still a nice thought…” Of course it was, but Rei was not going for nice. Nice was for the girl at the dango shop or the receptionist at the hospital, not your killer.
Yuruganai grimaced as he started eating. “I don’t know why you want to kill for a living in the first place” he said. “It’s disgusting. No daughter of mine should be committing such crimes.”
Before Rei could fire back, Teiko placed her hand on the table, voice calm but powerful, and replied, “Yuri, don’t make me come over there and hit you on the head again.”
Sighing, Hana reached for her glass and took a small, anxious sip. “I just find so much peace in knowing this is only temporary” she murmured.
“What do you mean temporary?” Rei asked.
“Well” Hana sighed, brushing her hair back behind her ear, “You can’t do this forever. Sooner or later you’ll have to get married and settle down, and you can’t possibly continue doing this sort of thing while also raising children. No, that’s when you’ll come back to us and work at the bookstore fulltime where we’ll know you’re always safe.”
This was unbelievable. With an incredulous laugh, Rei asked, “And what if I never get married? Hmm? What if I never have kids? What if I never fulfill this stupid little domestic dream you all have for me? I’m not going to end up like you guys. I’m not going to spend my life bumbling around contributing nothing of value. I was meant to protect this village even if it meant sacrificing my life. I’m going to do this job until the day I die whether you like it or not.”
Rolling his eyes, Yuruganai slammed his fist on the table. “That is enough!” he shouted. Then, rubbing his temples, added, “Your defiance is overwhelming, Rei, I cannot even believe my own daughter would be so disobedient.”
“Yuri—” Teiko began, her gaze hard and cold, but her son wouldn’t hear of it. He was on a rampage now and nothing was going to stop him.
“You won’t get very far” he growled. “You may have gotten past the chunin exams but you’re worthless to this village. You’re going to run out of skill very quickly and when that happens, you should hope we’ll accept you back into this household. Until then, I would suggest you watch your mouth and tread carefully or else you’re going to end up on the streets with the strays.”
Had she been younger, Rei would’ve taken these threats to heart. She would’ve met her father’s dangerous gaze with fear and submission. Now, however, she was no longer that frightened little child. She sucked her teeth and stared back at him with a fire in her eyes, something threatening to spill over and drown everything and everyone within a five mile radius. She reached into her back pouch and pulled out the slip of paper Grandma Teiko had noticed earlier, slamming it on the table with a satisfied smirk. “Tell that to the hokage” she said before rising and turning on her heel to depart.
Once she was finally alone in her room, she let the weight of the interaction finally overwhelm her. She drew her knees up to her chest in bed and gripped her hair, fighting back tears. The lack of support she received was astounding—she simply could not fathom how someone could be so cruel and oppressive to their own child. She laid back in bed and rested a hand atop her stomach, applying slight pressure just to feel something. She couldn’t say for sure whether or not she would someday get married and have children of her own but if she ever did, she was at least positive she would never treat them like this. She was never going to discount their dreams or deter them from their passions. She would be supportive and warm and encouraging. The kind of parent she wished she had.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she heard the knock on her door. “Go away” she responded, almost automatically. Without question, the door creaked open and Rei sat bolt upright, ready for another round of arguing. “I said go—” she started, but was caught off guard to find Grandma Teiko shuffling inside with a knowing smile.
“Don’t think you’d be pushing me away, would you, girl?” she asked, chuckling softly. She closed the door behind her and then took a seat at Rei’s desk. “Here” she then said and handed Rei the congratulatory paper—except it was ripped into quarters.
“He was that pissed, huh?” Rei asked, taking it and trying to piece it back together. It wasn’t that important, but a part of her felt desperate to mend it in the wake of the fight, as a sign of resilience if nothing else.
"You know how he is” Teiko replied, waving her hand dismissively.
“Do you really think he’d kick me out?” Rei asked.
Grandma Teiko shook her head, but there was uncertainty in her eyes. “Yuri says a lot of things that I don’t think he means. I don’t think he’d do it. He doesn’t have the guts. And if he did, then he’d have to go through me and I certainly wouldn’t let him get away with it!”
Rei laughed softly to herself. “Did you whack him on the head like you said you would?”
“Three times” Teiko replied. The old woman’s presence was such a welcome comfort. Rei could feel the weight of the evening dissipate from her shoulders as they spoke. They sat like that for a while, echoed laughter and a familiar optimism. But then a somber tone set in that colored Rei’s mood a darker shade of uncertainty.
“Is this all you came in here for?” she asked quietly, somberly. “To give this back?” She waved the fragments of paper around, having since given up on trying to put them back together. It was no use. It was an easy fix, of course, but she had no means at her disposal to attach the pieces. It was pointless.
Grandma Teiko shook her head, then stood slowly and reached into the pocket in her kimono. She pulled out a small, battered box with a tiny note rolled up on top. “I also wanted to give you this” she said, extending a veiny hand out to her granddaughter. Rei took the present skeptically, looking it over before taking the note.
“Is this from you?” she asked. She had assumed that if Grandma Teiko was to give her something, it would’ve been presented much more nicely than this. As expected, Teiko shook her head, but she did not explain further. The question burning at the back of her throat was who, then, was this from? Rei hated the immediate thought that popped into her head. It was impossible. She was reaching for the stars, for something untouchable and improbable. It was pointless to get her hopes up.
Grandma Teiko rested a hand upon Rei’s shoulder as she hobbled toward the door, muttering something about Hana saving dinner for her when she was hungry. At this rate, however, Rei didn’t think she had much of an appetite. The argument, and now her anxiety, were stealing her hunger from her. In its place she was stuck with a hefty rock lodged firmly in the pit of her stomach.
Rei unraveled the note first, skimming the brief message. There is no shame in scars. That was all it said. It was so cryptic, it almost made Rei sick. If it hadn’t been for the distinct signature, a tiny henohenomoheji drawn in the bottom right corner, Rei would’ve considered it a threat. But this wasn’t a threat—if anything it was a taunt. Why would he do something like this? What good did it do him? Did this make him feel like some sort of martyr? Sending rare, cryptic gifts out of the blue as if to signal he hadn’t forgotten his roots? It was condescending and quite frankly disgusting. She ripped open that beat-up box expecting something equally insulting but instead was met with the strangest little thing. A hair clip, yellow plastic with a little flower on the end. Something familiar, a token of their youth. Her mind warped back to halcyon summer days when they were young and free and the terribleness of the world had not yet stained their hearts. It was her mother’s birthday, she remembered, and she had wanted to look especially nice. Kakashi had been sitting on her floor only half-watching as she rummaged through her closet for her nicest dress, and then dug around for the perfect hair accessory. When she found that little yellow clip, she couldn’t force herself to part with it. Kakashi was clearly bored with her indecision, likely regretting his choice to join her in the first place, but when she stuck that little clip in her hair something in his expression changed. He softened, and there was a hint of a smile beneath that trademark mask. She asked him if he thought she looked pretty, and he caught himself and rolled his eyes and remarked that with how long she took, she ought to look nice. She simply grinned back at him slyly, mockingly, and punched him on the arm as she made her way outside. Her decorum didn’t last very long, as is always the case with rambunctious children. By nightfall, her and Kakashi were breathless and dewy with sweat from chasing each other around the yard, wading into the lake and throwing frogs at one another. It wasn’t until they fell back onto the grass that Kakashi drew attention to her missing clip—it must’ve fallen out in all the chaos. She panicked, insisting that they needed to find it, but the darkness had set in and there was no turning back. Hana carried her to bed that night against her will, desperate but dozing. How Kakashi had retrieved it was a mystery in and of itself. Had he tracked it down the next day, and withheld it all this time? Or had he stumbled upon it by chance later, despite the fire destroying their childhood stomping grounds? It was all too weird.
She wasn’t quite sure how to take the implication, either. Did he intend for her to pin her bangs back, to reveal her face fully to the world? Her ugly, scarred, childish face? She could never. It would strip her of a fundamental aspect of herself which she had spent so long in curating—a gloomy sense of intimidation, a harshness to her appearance that left others uncertain and uncomfortable. What he was asking of her was impossible, and yet the longer she stared at this stupid little clip, the more tempted she became. She peered around to ensure no one was looking, despite being completely and utterly alone, then seated herself at her desk. She positioned her mirror just so, sucked in a deep breath, and then did it. She slid the clip into her hair, just barely restraining her thick bangs, and in that moment she saw herself completely unobstructed, her full face pale and dewy and imperfect. Her reflection stirred in her something horrifying: a sense of nostalgia, perhaps, for the good old days when they were friends, or maybe a sense of depersonalization at seeing her raw, true self like this especially after such a fight. Either way, it only further churned her stomach and left her hands feeling numb and tingly. She ripped the clip out of her hair and shoved it into the back of a drawer, hoping to wash away the stink of her current realization with her overwhelming, anxious tears.
0 notes
Note
Hullo! o/ Chocobros meets smol Ardyn anon here. I have another potentially fun request for you. How about Cor having to deal with smol Regis and gang? Or the bros reacting to them being smol. You can decide which one to do. :'D Thank you in advance!
Hallo! I’m sorry for taking so long. I’ve been constantly thinking on this and I think I’ll do both XD Apologies in advance for grammar mistakes, this isn’t second-read.
Let’s see what happens!
Everyone beware…
Cor deals with the rest of the Accordo Squad turned Smol, & bonus with The chocobros meet the complete Smol Accordo Squad (that means, yes, there is smol Cor too)
Let’s look for an excuse clarify; the baby/smol form is result of a status ailment.
For some reason (it’s Regis’ fault), the Accordo Squad decided to meet again for “the same of old days”.
So there goes the Accordo Team, on for a little journey for mere fun in the wild.
There’s this moment in which they’re making fun of Cor because he’s the youngest and back in the old days he was fifteen, so there where the rest had beards or adult height or an ID, Cor was this lanky teen.
They start treating him and speaking to him like he’s a baby, pinching cheeks and doing baby voice and all.
Mixing the words Cor and Baby, Cid has come up with the name “Corby” and they won’t stop calling him that.
There’s a point where they stumble upon this daemon they’ve never seen before and before they rush into action, Clarus pulls Cor back to their hideout behind a rock like
“Leave this to the adults, baby Cor.”
“FINE, go see how you handle it yourselves. Without me you all turn into a real mess of babies.”
Cor waits there but when he hears things get bad he jumps to action and kills the daemon, careful not to touch the cloud of steam it left behind, and nervously waiting for his teammates to come out of it.
When the cloud fades, there’s nothing but their clothes OHFUCK
But then Cor sees movements under the clothes and from under them four goddamn babies crawl out all confused and OH FUCK.
Tbh Cor just stands there and watches the babies.
“…this isn’t what I meant with ‘turn into babies’.”
Welp, Cor has no option but to deal with them:
Cor is currently trying to figure a way of herding four babies at once.
He doesn’t want to carry any of them.
Cor’s pretty sure the guys are conscious and will remember and will make fun of him for the rest of his life, and he won’t give them the pleasure.
He’s trying to keep them in a pack and making them crawl in the same direction.
Doesn’t work.
Baby Weskham sits there watching him, but Baby Cid is pretty SURE he saw a bunny so he’s furiously crawling after it.
Baby Regis just accidentally poked his eye with the cane and baby Clarus is hitting the cane for hitting his best friend and making him cry >:’(
Cor recovers baby Cid but now baby Regis just damn disappeared and, ofc, so did baby Clarus
“WESKHAM WHERE DID THEY GO!?”
Baby Weskham tilts the head with an adorable baby noise of question.
Baby Weskham is confused.
Cor drops baby Cid to go look for the other two.
Cor ends up carrying all four babies at once because this is a mess.
There’s baby Weskham and baby Regis each in an arm.
Baby Clarus is on his head.
Baby Cid is thrown onto his shoulder.
Cor tried phoning Monica to come save him (because Cid had the brilliant idea of HEY what about we go by feet!? So there’s no car he can use to return home).
Monica hung up on him when he told her “The guys just turned into babies”.
Also his phone died after that call.
Cor has no option but to deal with the babies until he finds somebody that could help him.
Cor had to go buy baby clothes.
The cashier kept staring at him because he was still carrying all four babies like that. They’re nude.
“…wow…y-your…your wife gave birth to four at once…”
“Oh. I…I have no- these are not my children.”
The cashier is terrified.
Actually, Cor isn’t bad at parenting; he had practice with the baby chocobros back in the days, so he knows how to put diapers on them.
The problem is making the four stay still while he does.
Weskham is a treasure that doesn’t move.
Cid and Regis…*defeated sigh*
Clarus is troubles too, but Regis is worse than he is.
“I thought I was done when your children grew up, I don’t have the patience for this shit anymore.”
It’s four babies, please understand Cor.
There goes Cor the Immortal Nanny, carrying two babies on the back and two more on the front.
At first he had put Clarus and Regis together and Cid and Weksham together, but had to rearrange;
Baby Cid insisted on smacking baby Weskham until provoking him and both started fighting.
Baby Regis insisted on doing pranks or trying to escape from the carrier and baby Clarus always helped him.
Weskham and Regis together works better, even though baby Regis insists on trying to escape. Good baby Weskham always stops him.
Baby Clarus and baby Cid insist on fighting, though.
Cor made the mistake of walking in front of a toy store.
You should have heard the massive collective baby scream when he did.
All four babies looked at the things on display window and went
“*BABY GASP* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! (」°ロ°)」 “
Cor had no option but go inside because none of them would shut the fuck up.
People stare at Cor every time he nags Regis because all they see is this stressed father calling his baby by “your Majesty” 。゚(TヮT)゚��
He’s nagging him because baby Regis insists on pushing things off the shelves.
Baby Cid helps him.
Cor ends up bugyin onesies and toys for them because the babies insisted and he wants them to shut up.
There goes Cor carrying with baby Regis in his carbuncle onesie hugged to a moogle, baby Clarus in a moogle onesie hugged to a chocobo, baby Cid in a chocobo onesie hugged to a cactuar, and coeurl Weskham hugged to a carbuncle.
Cor camps with them.
Cor thinks the babies are doing some daemonic ritual because they’re in their onesies dancing around the fire singing uncontrollably.
They can’t even speak, it’s just bambling as they sing.
Cor’s sat there like (눈_눈)
Cor had to chase them around for a good couple hours before they fell asleep.
Baby Cid insists on stealing Cor’s stuff and running nowhere at all (also falling at times).
Baby Weskham, as calm, is also dramatically curious so he saw a butterfly and crawled away of camp to chase it.
Baby Regis is a chaos.
Baby Regis insists on stealing Cor’s stuff,run away from camp, hide, throw things at Cor, and poking the others.
Baby Clarus follows him either to help him do his pranks or to take care of him.
Cor recovers a baby just to be thrown a spoon by another,recovers another and the first already escaped again.
“Their ritual dance around the fire was better, dammit.”
Three of the babies already understood (even though baby Cid had to be nagged and is currently sat there all grumpy), but baby Regis is A CHAOTHIC MESS.
Cor is tired of his shit.
Cor is carrying him by the ankle, upside-down
“MOTHER OF SHIVA,REGIS LUCIS CAELUM, CAN YOU PLEASE CONTROL YOURSELF FOR ONCE!? >:(”
Baby Regis peed on him.
It was on purpose.
The babies went to sleep and they’re al cuddled up and it’s disgustingly adorable, Cor can’t be mad at them.
Cor thought it’d be a good idea to throw baby Weskham in the air for fun.
Bad idea; now all four babies are bouncing around him so he carries them and throws them up.
The first hour goes cool but it’s gets easily boring to Cor.
After the first hour he starts to get tired.
“Listen, I’m 45. I can’t do this all day like I’m 29.”
Shut the f*ck up , Cor, they still want to have fun.
Baby Clarus ended up throwing up.
“Ha ha, weak.”
Cor’s having fun because for once he’s the oldest and the gang are literally babies.
Cor’s laughing at them all the time.
Baby Cid was waddling around and fell on his tummy.
“Ha ha, idiot.”
Baby Weskham tried Cor’s shoes on and ignored they’re like GIANT and tried to tie them but had no idea how to.
“Hahaha, you dumbass.”
Baby Clarus sneezed so loud he scared himself.
“Hahahahahha, you’re so stupid.”
Baby Regis was sat there looking at a butterfly all like .A. “woaaaaah” and when it flew past his head he tried to keep looking throwing the head back instead of turning around, and he fell backwards.
“Hahahahahahahaha, you’re so stupid 。゚(TヮT)゚。 “
Baby Regis tried taking Cor’s katana.
It’s disgustingly adorable, baby Regis is like TINY, the tiniest of the smol gang, and the katana is so giant to him but he’s carrying it around from a tip.
Don’t worry, Cor’s making sure nobody unsheathes that by accident.
Cor has rented a car.
Baby Weskham gets the passenger seat because he’s a treasure that doesn’t cause much trouble.
Look at baby Weskham sat there so miniature with the seatbelt on and it’s too big on him, oajdsdof, literally only the strap that goes to the waist works on him.
Cor has no baby seats okay
The other three are at the backseats and, as they cannot poke the heads out the windows and as they can’t go to the front because Cor stops them when they try, they need to find a new entertainment.
Baby Regis, Clarus and Cid are fighting each other.
Baby Regis started.
Regis, calm tf down.
Cor’s watching from time to time on the rearview mirror.
Watching these three murdering each other is fun.
Goddammit Cor needs to record this somehow before the status fades.
Cor had a terrible idea.
You can’t stop Cor.
Cor is camping and just set his own game of Baby Fights.
The baby that wins earns this big chocobo plush.
Cor’s basically putting two babies in front of each other and watching them fight.
He’s laughing.
The babies do only harmless attacks like smacking each other or shoving back and they cry at the smallest of hits.
This is sweet revenge.
“Who’s a baby now?”
Don’t worry, Cor’s making sure none of them is really hurt.
Baby Clarus won.
Baby Weskham won’t talk to baby Clarus for the rest of the night.
Baby Cid is throwing things at baby Clarus.
Baby Regis is trying to steal the plush, ends up feeling guilty and returns it on free will to baby Clarus. And then steals it again.
Cor woke up to baby Weskham smacking his face.
Baby Weskham is quiet but still troubles if he wants.
Cor finally gets to Cape Caem where Monica’s at.
“Hey, Cor, where are the…”
“…”
“…Cor, I don’t want to question you but why are you carrying with FOUR BABIES”
See, Monica wouldn’t have believed about the status ailment hadn’t Cor brought them to her.
Guess who arrived at Caem by the time?
Here come the chocobros!
They tasked the chocobros to look after these babies (didn’t tell them who they were) until they came back; Cor wants to show Monica the daemon that did that, see if they spot one nearby.
That night Monica returned with a naked baby and Cor was missing.
“…yes, you see, it’s a funny story”.
Monica explained who these five babies are.
“THEY ARE WHO!?”
“Oh look at the hour, I promised someone I’d see them by now, I leave it in your hands, bye”
Monica never came back.
Here we see it, four young adults that can barely survive on their own, parenting parents.
It was a mess at fist.
Noctis went nuts
“THIS IS MY DAD!? THIS IS MY DAD!?!?!”
Noctis is holding baby Regis in his hands all like .A.
As soon as he held him, baby Regis went all
“*HAPPIEST OF BABY NOISES* AAAAH! (o´▽`o)。o○♡“
Doing grabby hands at Noctis and legs happily swinging around.
The chocobros all had to gather around to see him because literally nobody has ever seen a happier baby than this one LOOK AT THOSE GIANT BLUE EYES SPARKLING AND THE WAY HE GIGGLES IT’S ADORABLE.
Baby Regis won’t leave Noctis alone from now on
If Noct puts him down, baby Regis will crawl or waddle after him.
Prompto went fanboy mode when he saw baby Cor.
“GUYS LOOOOK IT’S COOOOR! AAAH, HE’S SO TINY! (ノ´ヮ`)ノ“
Cor’s trying to hide behind his hands in embarrassment.
Nope. That only makes Prompto happier.
Prompto won’t let go of baby Cor for the rest of the status ailment.
Smol Cid is also particularly fond of Prompto.
Must be his guns.
Baby Cid is always touching and patting Prompto’s guns.
(don’t worry, Prom locked them)
Ignis and baby Weskham are particularly fond of each other.
Ignis is all
“Ah. This is what I talked about. Finally an adult that’s got common sense and understands the quiet. Please do not eat that ant.”
Gladio’s looking after his dad.
“So this is what you looked like when you were a baby, huh. You’re like a wet potato.”
“You know, Gladio, my dad once told me you looked exactly the same than Clarus when you were a baby.”
“…a very handsome wet potato”
Gladio’s just looking at baby Clarus all the time.
On a side, he wants to pick baby Clarus and use him like a toy airplane for fun.
On the other side, what if he’s conscious and won’t forget when he goes back to adult?
Gladio can’t risk that.
He’s just going to stare at baby Clarus all the time.
Baby Clarus is staring back at times.
Baby Cid likes to bite Prompto’s hair.
Baby Weskham likes to look at Ignis’ recipes notebook.
Ignis likes to read what it says to him.
Baby Weskham has huge adorable baby eyes and he sits there super curious and quiet watching all the letters and drawings.
Baby Cor was too shy at first, but Prom ended up finding a way to make him laugh.
Baby Cor’s tiny shy giggle is the CUTEST THING EVER.
Regis is still following Noctis and making grabby hands athim.
Baby Regis wants to be hugged all the time. By Noct, that is.
Prom one day was like
“I had an idea,what about we dress them like their adult selves but with clothes their size? I know it may be a stupid idea, I’m sorry…”
Everyone was quiet for a while.
There are the chocobros, each carrying their respective baby (Prom carries with two), into every shop for baby clothes and disguises they find to complete their attires.
Noct feels observed out there carrying with baby Regis.
Noct is by far the most nervous of them all.
“WOW, your baby has HUGE and beautiful eyes!”
“Oh, that’snotmybaby, it’s not- ahaha, no, this is not my baby, this is my dad.”
The random lady is staring at Noctis like (・_・;)
There’s a super awkward silence and Gladio decides to take Noctis somewhere else before he screws up more.
“GUYS I FOUND A HAT LIKE COR’S OLD ONE (*ノ▽ノ)”
“PUT IT ON HIM, PUT IT ON HIM!”
They put the hat on baby Cor’s head.
It’s too big.
It falls and covers baby Cor’s face.
Baby Cor’s pushing it up and looking up at them.
“*collective loud ‘Aaaawww’*”
When they return they start dressing up the babies.
There’s baby Cid with his hat.
Baby Weskham in his vest and even a miniature fake monocle.
Baby Cor with his hat and a miniature toy sword.
Baby Regis with his cape and king attire miniature size.
Baby Clarus with his cape and a toy shield.
The chocobros are all staring and fanboying.
They’ve gone entire fanboy mode, you can’t revert it.
They’re arguing over which baby is the cutest.
This is destroying friendships.
The chocobros are starting to have a blast with the babies.
Please don’t let them, they’re going to go into stupid mode.
Thankfully enough, the status ailment reverts at some point before the guys can think about any stupid thing.
Funny enough for us, the Accordo Squad remembers everything.
They thank the chocobros for the attention and each teams decide to split because it’s awkward to look at each other to the eyes.
The Accordo Team are laughing and having fun talking about this mess.
“You do have to say, they did a particular good job on my attire. I looked the cutest.”
“What? You’re nuts, Wesky. Obviously I looked the cutest.”
“Come now, you’re talking in front of the king. It’s clear I was the cutest.”
“No way, Regis, I even had a toy shield. I am the cutest.”
“Well, I do have to say I’m the youngest, am I not? You’ve always treated me like a baby so that means, by logic, that I am the cutest.”
The Accordo team are now arguing over who’s the most adorable.
You know what, I think they still have no idea how to adult in life.
And this are the adorable and hilarious adventures of Smol Accordo Squad. (ノ´ヮ`)ノ*: ・゚
9 notes
·
View notes