#he runs into ken in the forest and tries to fight him but ken throws him some ointment for his bruises instead

[jaqfrost]

hunted down shin gaiden this weekend and just. fascinated

[thenixkat]

HCs and OCs for a fic

Toyomitsu family: Descended from one of the first giant mutants in Japan. Tend to have monster or animal related transformation quirks in addition to being huge. Own farmland and forested areas all over the Kansai region. The family founded the Devil’s Market yakuza group which has been extremely long-running and focused on buying and selling illicit goods, general goods, and general supplies and labor for larger people. A Toyomitsu has been either the boss or first lieutenant of the Devil’s Market for as long as it’s existed. They had to move out of their Osaka base when All For One set up shop, their current main base of operations is in Esuha city. The family also runs a franchise of butcher shops across most of Japan under the name of Oni Meats which carries a vast selection of animal protein from around the world. Nearly all members of the family have prey drives from their monstrous transformations.

Ma- Manami- (Quirk) Bugbear- transformation quirk. If the user is sufficiently fat then they can transform into a hybrid bear/reptile monster. Has great senses and night vision as well as enhanced strength. Can induce fear by staring someone directly in the eyes. -->Prefers not to be involved with the less legal dealings of the family and Devil’s Market. She’s more than capable of being as much of if not more a terrifying mob boss than her little brother. She just likes farming better. -->Generally doesn’t look people in the eyes unless she doesn’t like them b/c her terror-inducing power stays active regardless of her form. She prefers not to scare folks who don’t deserve it. -->Gets on very well with her sister-in-law, if she wasn’t married she’d steal her brother’s wife. -->Met her husband in a fighting ring. She eviscerated him with her claws and he broke one of her arms and several of her ribs. They started talking while getting patched up. -->Is about 7’10” and built like a well-padded brick house. -->Is the one who judges new recruits into the gang. Tends to have them do farm work for at least a month to get a bead on their personalities.

Pa- Noel ‘Blue Devil’ Diablo nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Energy absorption- emitter quirk. Can absorb, temporarily store, and redirect kinetic/thermal/electric energy. Too much energy kept in the body for too long causes reckless and impulsive behavior and hyperactivity. Devil- mutant quirk. Has devil-like horns and a tail. -->Used to be a nomad b4 settling down with his strong beautiful wife. Supported himself on his travels with fighting, gambling, handyman skills, and musical skills. -->Brings nothing to the table in his household other than his good looks, good nature, and knack for fixing things and a broad range of skills. -->Holding in excess energy makes him glow blue, especially his horns. -->Loves his family just so much. Is the goofy dad and great flirty husband. -->Loved to carry his kids until they got waaaay too big for him to pick up. Stands on a char to talk to his kids and wife on their level. B/c they are just so damn tall. -->Is 6 ft tall with a strong build with very little body fat b/c of a side effect of his quirk. He gets cold easily b/c of this and it bothers his joints.

Grandpa- Ryuji ‘The Dragon/ Dread Emperor of Giants’ - (Quirk) Dragon- transformation quirk. Can transform into an eastern dragon or humanoid eastern dragon with the severity of the transformation depending on percentage of body fat. Can also control the weather. -->Controlling the weather means that his farms never have a bad year. He does sell this service on the black market through the Devil’s Market. -->Wanted to be a hero when he was young and stopped when his mom got sent to jail for vigilantism and murder for stopping a serial killer from preying on women in the community -->Retired after a betrayal from some too ambitious underlings lead to a crippling knee injury. Still acts as a source of wisdom for the family and the gang. -->Is the go-to babysitter. -->Prefers to be in his transformed state and hates the anti-public quirk use laws with a passion. -->His full dragon form is as long as a bus and can fly. His humanoid dragon form/human form (sans antlers) is 8’5”

Grandma- Akane- (Quirk) None. -->An ex-mercenary who beat Ryuji in his prime AND in his full dragon form with nothing but some rope and her bare hands. -->Very good with guns and knives -->Takes advantage of the fact that as a plump quirkless woman she tends to get overlooked by people with powers to end fuckers. -->Was the one who got rid of the over-ambitious underlings who attempted a coup against her husband. -->Is about 5’10”, very chubby, wears glasses, and is rather soft-spoken. -->Is an icon to the quirkless members of the Devil’s Market and teaches them how to fight people with powers.

Uncle- Wani ‘The Butcher’- (Quirk) Crocodilian- transformation quirk. Similar to grandpa but crocodile instead of dragon. Has a great sense of smell and hearing as well as night vision. Is bulletproof at full strength. -->A strong proponent of community defense to the point where more people came to him about community issues than go to police or heroes. He gets problems handled permanently. -->Also heavily invested in technology and occult studies to see if there was a way to make life easier for people -->Also prefers to be in his transformed state -->Caught and ate 3 quirk diagnosing doctors in the area who were trafficking children into human experimentation. Managed to rescue most of the kids. -->Was arrested and sent to Tartarus for a string of killing corrupt cops and heroes fucking around in his neighborhood. His family often visits him. -->Fell for his wife when she bet him she could drink him under the table with the loser paying the tab. She won. -->Is about 8 ft tall and at least half as wide b4 going to jail. In prison he rapidly lost weight, the family is planning a jailbreak.

Auntie- Jay ‘Jaybird/Hummingbird’ Johnson nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Fast Twitch- emitter quirk. A speedster type. Can move and think at superhuman speeds for a few minutes at a time every hour. Has a very high metabolism and needs to consume large amounts of food in general. -->Was a villain before settling down. Still pulls off a robbery every now and then and has a fondness for gems. -->A Black American who came to Japan to hide from law enforcement after a heist gone wrong. -->Thinks that the way people throw the word villain around to just about any fucker committing any kind of crime while using a quirk really dilutes the word. Thinks that villains need fun costumes and proper themes and intent. -->Her sister-in-law was one of the first women she’s ever met who never criticized her eating habits and she would kill for the other woman. Ride or die friendship. -->Is constantly hungry due to her speedster metabolism and has to eat a lot. -->About 5’8” and leggy with plenty of visible muscle.

Sister- Onini ‘Oni/Gargoyle’- (Quirk) Gargoyle- transformation quirk. Can transform into a stone-skinned gargoyle with the severity of the transformation being dependant on amount of body fat. Heat Sink- emitter quirk. Can absorb, store, and release thermal energy. -->Tried to become a hero but was bullied out of school -->Named after one of her mom’s friends -->Considers cousin Kenji to be effectively one of her brothers -->Became a firefighter and uses her quirks on the job even tho it’s illegal. Not like the people she’s saving are gonna complain. -->Tends to flirt with strong women. -->Actually tends to stay partially transformed b/c she likes having a tail and passes herself off as a mutant -->If she gets too hungry and loses control she can become a heat vampire and freeze things to death while feeding on their body heat. -->Spends a lot of time helping out on the farm and her mother is most likely to pass ownership of the family land to her once she retires. -->The most likely person in her generation of the family to have biological kids. --->Keeps teasing Fatgum about when he’s gonna officially adopt his interns. -->Is about 7’5” and technically is too heavy to fly but she glides pretty well.

Cousin- Kenjiro ‘Kenji/Ken/Shuten’- (Quirk) Fast Oni- transformation quirk. Can transform into an oni with enhanced speed and strength. Transforming causes his metabolism to speed up and he burns fat to stay in oni form. Has a speedster metabolism in regular form, if he doesn’t eat a substantial meal every 5 hours he starts losing weight (fat and muscle) rapidly and is consequently always hungry. -->Would love to stay in his transformed form but can’t due to the timer. -->Is jealous of Taishiro’s height and metabolism so he makes fun of the way Tai’s face looks when he’s transformed. Also jealous of Onini’s ability to not be constantly hungry. -->Is constantly hungry from the day his quirk came in and had to take appetite suppressants during puberty to keep from losing his head and chowing down on anything and anyone in reach during his growth spurts. -->Has been mistaken for Fatgum more than once due to their similar-ish size and clothing choices. It frustrates him to no end b/c he’s way darker than Tai and prefers wearing blue or white. -->Has intentionally eaten people. Most notable example being him ending a war with a rival yakuza group by capturing, butchering, and cooking the rival leader and openly serving him for dinner at the peace treaty/gang merger. -->Strongly supports Fatgum as a hero and the two combine resources to help the community whether that is through funding housing for the homeless or getting a very good tailor the resources to make clothing for specific clientele or sending the other to deal with a situation appropriately. -->Brings a knife to a gunfight b/c he’s a superstrong speedster and a gun ain’t go do shit if you ain’t got no hands. -->Thinks Overhaul is a stupid asshole b/c it’s not that hard to get blood out of a kid or train a kid to be ok with it. -->Is about 7’10” and has heard every short joke under the sun from Tai

Fatgum-Taishiro ‘Tai’- (Quirk) Fat Absorption- Transformation quirk into an uncanny valley cartoony blob man that is as strong as the amount of body fat he has. Can absorb, neutralize, or release kinetic energy. Eyes glow in the dark like a cartoon when his quirk is active. Has a great sense of taste and is incapable of feeling sated/is always hungry. Also has an extremely efficient digestive system that breaks food down in seconds. Can also convert fat into muscle as well as generally having enhanced strength and speed while transformed. -->Was a late bloomer. His quirk didn’t start coming in till he was 8 and it took a while b4 he was fat enough for it to have notable effects. -->Preferred being in his skinnier form during middle and high school due to bullying and self-esteem issues that he didn’t work through until his early twenties. -->Started high school at 5’7” (170 cm) at 14 yrs old and was 8’2 (250 cm) when he graduated at 18 yrs old. Puberty was hell and pants were his enemy. -->Had a friend in hero support who took it as a personal challenge to make him clothing that he couldn’t destroy, that would grow and shrink with him, and that he couldn’t outgrow heightwise either. Ended up inventing ‘indestructible pants’ and making bank. -->Does not have canine teeth due to a mutation related to his quirk. Does have several rows of teeth that can replace themselves like a shark’s due to the same mutation. The fuckery of his mouth is only really noticeable if he’s ‘stretching’/pushing his transformation to its fullest extent or if someone’s feeling around inside of his mouth for whatever reason. -->Does not have a gag reflex -->Has been constantly hungry since his quirk emerged and like Kenji had to take appetite suppressants during his growth spurts to keep control of himself. An asshole classmate once replaced his appetite suppressants with appetite stimulants to see what happens. Several people ended up hospitalized, Taishiro still has nightmares about it and said asshole student actually managed to get expelled. Has a restraining order against said asshole classmate who fucked off to England to be a hero there. -->Is so glad he’s done growing. Went through clothes like water when he was a teen. -->Going several days without getting enough calories in tends to activate his prey drive and he really doesn’t like that b/c heroes shouldn’t murder or maul people. Figured out this aspect when he mauled a bully after his quirk just came in and later during a survival training exercise in hero school in which he ended up eating a live bear after several days of living on trail rations (scared his teammates for life with that one). -->A lot of aspects of his costume with the bright colors and friendly mannerisms is to reduce the intimidation factor/terrifying aspects of his appearance. He is aware that in his transformed state he’s a giant uncanny valley cartoony egg man monster that can fucking absorb people into his body. -->While transformed his limb, mouth, and eye proportions are extremely fluid and change nearly at will. If he wants to his face can be entirely mouth, which he knows is terrifying to other people. His arms and legs can rubber hose it though they aren’t as strong when he does that, does mean he can grab from angles that shouldn’t be possible. -->Was bullied as a kid for being ‘quirkless’ b4 his quirk manifested and then he was bullied for being fat. It did a number on his self-esteem as a teen leading him to prefer using his thinner form as his default. -->His thinner form was considered a heartthrob in school to his frustration. Didn’t mean he didn’t take advantage of the fact people found him hot to make money or flirt a free lunch off of someone. Was in a hot guy calendar made and distributed by one of his classmates. -->It absolutely gets on his nerves when people only find his skinny form attractive. -->After graduation, he lost muscle b/c that starter hero paycheck ain’t shit and the Hero Commission refused to let him write off food costs as business expenses. Had to save his food money for patrols leading to him losing weight. -->Participated in underground fighting rings to both make some money on the side and get better at using his quirk -->Has tried Trigger b4 and carries a small vial of the good version of it just in case he really needs it one day. (Listen, you ain’t finding shit trying to pat down fucking Fatgum) -->While transformed the absorbing things into him thing is automatic, put too much pressure on the flabbier parts of his body and you’ll just sink in. It takes effort to release things and took him a while to learn how to do this as a kid. Before he learned how to release things, he’d just turn off his quirk to get things out of him. -->Was blackmailed into working for the cops after getting caught during a raid of one of the fighting rings he was participating in. Decided to be a double agent and give away info on cases to the Devil’s Market to help them stay ahead of the cops. Also blew a decent chunk of the Osaka police force’s budget on his feeding since they wanted to use him. Ultimately this is what caused the police to break their partnership with him b/c he was too damn expensive to keep on the payroll. -->Once he became decently popular he and the Devil’s Market started funding a superhero trade school to get people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to get into hero schools for various reasons trained up and educated enough to get a hero license. -->As a hero he just doesn’t enforce the dumber laws like anti-public quirk use laws b/c who cares if people use their quirks if they aren’t hurting anyone. Also prefers not to label criminals as villains unless they’ve done some truly heinous shit b/c he knows that villains get harsher punishments in the justice system. Is also a strong proponent for rehabilitation for criminals. -->Once got caught in a scandal where he and a close friend and classmate managed to get a quirkless friend of theirs enrolled in their hero school with the help of a hacker. It took months for the school to catch on, during which said quirkless friend excelled in the hero classes. Fatgum and his friend nearly got expelled when caught. Later he helps that quirkless friend get a provisional hero license to become Japan’s first quirkless hero. -->From his family history, to his accent, to his size, to his ancestry Fatgum got torn apart by the media when he first started making waves. It took years but his image as a fun friendly beloved hero won out over ‘loose canon with criminal ties who’ll probably turn villain any day now’ -->Most of his sidekicks are folks he knew in his underground fighting days or rehabilitated criminals. Sidekicks and interns from actual hero schools are picked based on both potential as well as ‘how well can you bend the law/see in shades of grey instead of black and white?’. Essentially interning with Fatgum is a long process of unlearning propaganda and a practical application of morality on a case by case basis. -->Is aware of the hornier corners of his fandom and doesn’t know how to get them to understand that death via snusnu is not a way they want to go out (“How do you know this?” “...No comment.”) and telling them that they would def either die or require medical attention only makes them hornier. He finds it distressing and tries to avoid these people. -->Only found out that his name and birthday were puns when he was in middle school. He was not pleased. His parents had a blast since they were waiting for him to figure it out. -->When transformed his face, hands, feet, knees, and elbows are the most vulnerable parts of his body. Hence the leg armor (and occasionally arm armor). -->Due to his size, he’s got a few glaring blind spots, the main one being that he simply can’t see past his belly when looking down. He has tripped over short people b4 b/c of this. At least one of his friends from school would take advantage of this when he was in his larger form to sneak up on him.

[stillyourprussianblue]

Title: aspen eyes;

under the moon, long shadows are cast Part I of III

Author: feuillemort [AO3] / stillyourprussianblue [tumblr]

Rating: T

Pairing: 2696 (Fran & Chrome)

Event: KHRWeen2020

Prompts: Witches | Cryptids

“We can’t leave until he returns. We have to protect his home.”

“It’s your home too.”

[AO3] [image] [Part I] [Part II] [Part III]

“Why are we still here?” Fran’s voice whined in monotone. He looked up from where he was nestled in the crook of her arm, pressed close to her chest as she squatted in the woodland.

The girl paid no attention to the large bullfrog she cradled other than to shush him softly. Her other arm was extended towards the two humanoid figures that always crept at the edges of her vision. Her eyepatch was slipping slightly, but she didn’t have a free hand to push it up and she couldn’t make any sudden movements lest she startle the creatures.

The basket of puffball mushrooms and herbs she had collected sat at her feet as she pushed the wildberry pastries and meat pies toward the cryptids that lurked at the edge of the clearing. The lizard creature hung back with watchful eyes while the larger, furry beast crept forward, only having eyes for the pastries that she offered.

Nagi knew what Fran was referring to.

It had begun with accusations against the most vulnerable of their town. The orphan girl that lived in the alleys behind the church refused to dress in anything other than slacks and had evaded capture from the authorities for years until she was found stealing a lamb. She was imprisoned on charges of witchcraft on the grounds that she was procuring lamb’s blood for a ritual, but on the eve that she would have been burned, she vanished from her cell. The council proclaimed that her escape was due to black magic, and the villagers whispered that it was the shepherd’s son that had liberated her in the night, but Nagi had seen how young woman had chipped through the bars and manoeuvred through the narrow space of the window, climbing to freedom and disappearing into the night.

Fear continued to spread, and soon it was a young girl that lived on the outskirts of the village that predicted the deaths of many officials on the town council. Nagi thought that the pinpoint accuracy of the girl’s visions was miraculous, but the villagers had cried witchcraft and had the girl imprisoned awaiting trial. A noblewoman passing through town had tried to use her position to leverage mercy for them found herself on the receiving end of their ire as well. It was rumoured that she was to be drowned in the morning.

Then it was the woman who ran the apothecary because she cared for a colony of feral cats and the nature of her product made the judges chary. Her accusations were followed by that of an escort that dared to express her disdain at the witch hunt. Nagi and Fran had only noticed because their master had been rather fond of the red-haired woman’s company and her churlish character. They had left their woodland hut and gone into town that day to check in on her, basket on her arm filled with meat pies and sweet tarts, and Fran hidden inside from the prying eyes of the public. M.M. had looked at her with the same disdain she had regarded the judges with, but she had accepted the creel through the barred basement window only to scream and throw it all back at her when she reached in and touched the frog familiar.

Nagi had scooped up the remains of the ruined pastries as M.M. yelled, cursing up such a storm at the witch’s retreating back that guards came running. They had seen her face as she withdrew, her one eye wide with fear as M.M. shouted that Fran had been such a majestic owl and that Nagi was a horrible witch that had turned him into a disgusting toad. The guards gave chase as she made a beeline for the tree line, but traversed no further into the fae domain.

She ran with Fran in her arms until she was sure they were no longer being pursued but decided to take a detour back to their home on the off chance they were being followed, taking the opportunity to collect puffball mushrooms for dinner, along with ember marjoram along the path for a simple warding spell around their home, and spark rue, thistlecress, and bearberries for a protective charm she wanted to try on Fran.

He didn’t think they could stay undetected in their forest home any longer as they waited for their master to return from his journey, but their conversation had been interrupted when Nagi noticed the cryptids shadowing them, the same ones that often circled their home in the night and that Nagi had been feeding.

“Who would take care of Chikusa and Ken if we left?”

“Gross,” Fran croaked. “You named them.”

“I named you too,” Nagi reminded. She remembered the owl familiar perched on its master’s shoulder with the same mismatched eyes and then tried not to remember her benefactor’s imperious gaze and impish smile because he was no longer with them.

His wit sharp as ever, Fran immediately had a response ready. “I’m a frog; I can’t process human emotions.”

Nagi fixed him with a stare until he let out a resounding ribbet that sent the werewolf and lizard creature scurrying away into the darkness, leaving a trail of crumbs in their wake; at least they had eaten some. Satisfied, she straightened up and brushed off her pleated skirt, readjusting her grip on Fran. “Why a frog though? You’re a shapeshifter and you used to take on the form of an owl.”

“Apprentices don’t get to be choosy,” he replied disinterestedly. “Creepy, evil perverts shouldn’t get to be picky either.”

She felt a shudder run down Fran’s spine and she patted his head right between his bulging eyes. “He put a hex on you to activate whenever you badmouth him, didn’t he?”

“And if I even think about leaving this form. Even beyond the grave, he’s still a creepy, evil, pervert sadist,” the frog whined. “It was for the good of the world that he croaked… ouch.”

“Your master’s just on a journey right now,” Nagi said, “and you’ve been entrusted to me.”

“You know it’s the other way around right? He said that after he offed himself, to make sure he was buried in that specific plot in the cemetery, and not to raise him from hell until he was ready. Oh and he said that I had to look after the little witch girl with no powers.”

Nagi ignored the slight at her weak magical ability. “We can’t leave until he returns. We have to protect his home.”

“It’s your home too.”

He got the last word because she didn’t know what to say.

A mob of crows cawed as they took wing from the bristly pines and peeling birch trees that lined the path. A crisp autumnal breeze caught the cacophony and lifted it to the skies, somber, grey, and cold.

___

It didn’t take long for the village to organize an expedition into the woods. Nagi had been wrong; they were more afraid of a witch than they were of the fae. They showed at dusk as Nagi and Fran were collecting mellow moss and aster tubers by the creek, as all witches knew this was the best time for a quality harvest.

Fran had shifted into a human form to assist her, pantlegs rolled up to his knees as he waded into the creek in search of the slippery plants she needed for her various soups and potions (he couldn’t reliably tell the difference). He kept a cheeky cap on his head with a frog face which he had found that kept him within the parameters of the enchantment his master had placed on him.

He had noticed their approach first, and Nagi soon after when she felt the subtle change in his demeanour from comfortably uncouth to forced nonchalance. Stepping out of the creek, he returned to her side.

“Fran,” she murmured, reaching towards him as he came closer.

“What? Gross,” he said but made no move to avoid the fingers she trailed across his cheek.

“We can run,” she said, placing her hand a little more cogently on his face.

“We could.”

“But I would slow you down?” she surmised, letting her hand fall back to her side.

He looked back impassively, following the downward trail of her hand, their expressions mirrored. “No, but this sadist master of mine has a hut in this forest that this cute witch girl with no powers is determined to protect until he returns from his reincarnation journey.” Fran sighed peevishly as the hex activated. He ignored it and shifted his preferred human form into a perfect copy of Nagi, dark haired and birdlike.  

She looked him up and down, knowing full well what his plan was; but she couldn’t let him do that. Torches flickered in the nearing distance. He saw the same flicker in her eye. “We could fight.”

“You should run,” he said mildly as if he were commenting on the weather. “If you want to live, then bet your life on finding that corpse’s ring. That should have enough juice to enhance even your ability.”

“I’m not going to leave you.”

The familiar looked the witch up and down before turning his back on her. Fog rolled in between them and thickened until the air felt heavy. “Okay then, I’ll go. Goodbye!”

His lacklustre departure and uncharacteristically bright goodbye confused her. Fran had said he didn’t understand human emotions, but if so, why did he use the fog to cover his face?

The little witch girl watched powerlessly as his form was slowly lost to the mist, pursued in her stead by a witch hunt. The torches flared like a warning, a beacon of terror; she waited until they passed and ran in the opposite direction, scooping up the basket filled with the fruits of their labour.

___

She ran until she reached their humble home, circled with a shroud of protective charms. The hazy enchantments parted for her as she ran up the steps and threw the wooden door open without hesitation. Nagi walked with purpose over to the corner of the kitchen, pushing aside a broomstick and an umbrella in her search. A pair of tall rubber boots fell over, and she grabbed the shovel that sat behind them. Hefting the spade over her shoulder, she cowed a little at the sudden weight, but caught herself before she toppled over backwards. Then she was out the door again, leaving behind their darkened home, basket of moss and tubers on the kitchen table, dinner uncooked.

Nagi knew the forest like the back of her hand, her footing sure as she flew through the dark, finding the quickest path through the undergrowth as if it were nothing. She had travelled these secret trails with her benefactor and his familiar many times before. Now she was alone, but determined to save them –to protect Fran and preserve the sanctity of their home— even if that meant disturbing his slumber.

The spot he had asked them to bury his body was in the corner of the cemetery, under a cluster of aspen trees on the unmarked plot, with their low hanging branches that had obscured the location. They had had to chop them away in order to lay him to rest after he began his journey through the different planes of existence. The places where they had marred the pure white bark had healed into dark scars, aspen eyes that now watched her every move. 

Nagi brushed off their gazes and wasted no time in breaking ground. It was harder than she thought, and she felt the reverberation through the handle, wincing slightly. Unable to afford a moment’s rest when Fran was in danger, she put her foot against the shovel and heaved until the earth gave way and turned over for her. She did it again and again until she could no longer stand, her arms and legs shaking.

She threw the shovel to the side, falling to her knees in the shallow hole, trying not to let the desperation overwhelm her. Shadows moved in the edges of her vision, and she jumped backwards not a moment too soon as a creature landed with a solid thud where she had been crouched.

The werewolf snarled and began digging away. “Ken,” she murmured. He grunted back at her as he dug so avidly it sprayed mud and grass all around them. 

A humanoid lizard slid down into the opened earth to join them, giving her what seemed like a nod before it began to tear at the hard ground as well. “Chikusa,” Nagi whispered. She watched them in stunned silence before wiping the sweat from her brow and joining them.

Her only companions beneath the moon were a beastly dog and scaly varanid that dug alongside her. Hands and knees in the dirt, fingers curled into claws, the broke through the earth, exhuming the unmarked grave until her bloody hands met cold fingers rising from the dirt.

Nagi took a deep breath and reached for the ring glinting in the low light. As soon as her fingers touched the cool metal, the world around her ignited, and explosion rocking through the cemetery with thunderous force, throwing her forward into the dirt.

Before she could recover, there was another explosion, and a flash of heat that flared above her head that made her press herself down into the ground before slowly raising her head to check if there was an opening for escape.

A dark figure loomed over the grave, silhouetted by an intense fire that blazed behind him. His dark hair fluttered with the blazing hot air, embers whipping past and illuminating his impassive face. His eyes were steely as he caught a projectile in his hand, regarding the flames it spat before casually tossing it aside. She cried out softly at the blast as it shook the ground again. The world was on fire and she could not understand why he was here, but knew that as long as he was, she was safe. 

She found her footing and got to her feet.

___

[AO3] [Part I] [Part II] [Part III]

[geminiamethyst]

Dark Gemini’s Game. Part 8: The Depths

Prologue: click HERE

Part 1: click HERE

Part 2: click HERE

Part 3: click HERE

Part 4: click HERE

Part 5: click HERE

Part 6: click HERE

Part 7: click HERE

Part 9: click HERE

Ken fell out of the darkness with a loud thud on a metal floor. He laid there stunned for a minute, trying to recollect himself for a bit. There is the sound of loud whirring as he realises that he is in an elevator. It is completely different to the elevator that took Shin to the Asylum. It seemed old and had more solid walls. The only way that he could see out of it was through a large window. He approaches it, seeing that he was going down a shaft.

Ken: What in the-wait! *suddenly realises something different* What am I wearing?

His vampire costume was switched to a full body wetsuit. In his reflection in the window, the face paint that he had on was wiped clean off. Even his hair was tied back, as if it needed to be kept out of the way.

Ken: A diver’s suit? Why would I need-

There is a loud clang and a tremor that almost knocks Ken off of his feet. The door opens up. Ken hesitated but stepped off of it. He didn’t want to risk something going wrong if he stayed in it. He is in a mine that had been seemingly abandoned. He couldn’t hear any work being done or any voices of any miners. All he could hear was the dripping sounds of water. He keeps going down the tunnel until he stops short. The mine ahead of him was a shaft leading deeper into the mine that was completely flooded. Judging by the faint smell of salt, Ken deduced that it was more than likely sea water. He looked around and spots a scuba diving tank, a scuba mask, flippers and a belt that had a sheathed hunter’s knife.

Ken: *seeing that he has no other options* Guess I’ve got no choice. Now I know why I’m wearing this thing.

Ken quickly looks at the hunter’s knife. He is hoping that he wouldn’t have to use it. After quickly reading a sheet of instructions on how to use the diving gear, Ken gets himself kitted up. Once he’s ready, he dives into the water. He also realises why his hair was tied back, to keep it out of his face and to not het it tangled up in the scuba mask. He turns on the flashlight that is now on his shoulder as he swims through the flooded mine. The light shined a couple of metres ahead of him. He was thankful for that, otherwise he’d be completely lost and possibly run out of air. He made sure to avoid the old beams and anything else that would cause him any trouble. The mine slowly shifts into a more natural cave.

Ken kept swimming as calmly as he could. He didn’t know how much oxygen he had, but he hoped that he had more than enough for what Dark Gemini was forcing him to do. Once Ken found his way out of the cave, he was quite surprised by finding himself in the presence of what seemed to be a sunken city. Ruins of buildings made a maze in front of him, sea creatures moving between each building. Ken ventured on. He navigated as best he could in the maze. He wasn’t sure what to expect. It all seemed normal to him. However, he was snapped out of that mindset when something grabbed his leg. He hoped that it was just seaweed that he clumsily got tangled up in. However, he was met with a face. The creature that grabbed him seemed to be human, but the head was that of a fish like creature. It’s mouth was full of sharp teeth and was wide, ready to bite into the Snufkin. Ken’s body went into an automatic reflex as he grabbed the hunter’s knife. He stabbed the webbed hand of the creature and swam as fast as he could. More creatures reached out for him, but he avoided them as best he could. He couldn’t help but feel like a prey animal being hunted by a pack of predators. Once he dived into a building, the creatures seemed to have lost interest in him. They all retreated back from where they came, waiting for a less fortunate victim.

Ken took a minute to stabilise his breathing. The less he panicked, the less oxygen he would waste. He was able fully calm when he suddenly heard the giggling of a woman. He turned around seeing a figure in the window just ahead of him. It seemed to be a woman with long flowing hair. The fact she was there didn’t make Ken feel nervous. Rather it was the fact that she had a shimmering pale coloured tail instead of legs. The mermaid had her back to Ken, seeming to not give him her attention. Not wanting to get her attention, or risk getting found out, Ken started to swim as stealthily as he could. His heart skipped a beat when the mermaid suddenly turned towards him. She looked hideous. Her mouth is wide from ear to ear. It was full of sharp teeth that was ready to tare into Ken’s flesh. Her reptilian eyes were sharp blue. Fish scales decorated the sides of her face to her collarbone. Ken barely had enough time to react as she suddenly lunged at him. He ducked down, narrowly avoiding her. The mermaid swam by so fast that he was almost swept up in the current she created. He kicked as hard as he could and left the building before the mermaid could try again in getting him. He swam towards a forest of seaweed, hoping that it would provide enough cover for him to be safe for now.

For a while, he swam through the seaweed, being careful not to get tangled up in it. Any he did get caught in, he simply cut away with the hunter’s knife. He paid close attention to his surroundings the best he could. He listened carefully at every sound of movement and call of any sea creatures. Nothing seemed to be dangerous, but that’s what had him concerned. He can’t risk being too relaxed at the moment. He needed to be ready should anything try to attack him. He felt disappointed when the seaweed forest suddenly ended. It led to the edge of a trench that went deeper under the sea. It was pitch black, making it impossible for Ken to see what was down there, even with the light that he had. It was about thirty metres wide. On the other side, Ken could make out old shipwrecks.

Ken didn’t like the idea of swimming out in the open where anything could attack him, but he didn’t have much of a choice. The sunken city was too far behind him and didn’t want to take any more chance back there. Quickly checking his surroundings, he started to make his way across the trench. He was about halfway when he felt something once again grab his leg. Ken looked, gripping the hunter’s knife tight. He was quite surprised to find that it was a tentacle that had grabbed him. He looked down the trench, spotting a pair of large yellow eyes. Out of fight or flight response, Ken started stabbing at the tentacle. The monster didn’t relent as it started to dragged him further down. It roared loudly, making Ken’s eardrums rattle. Ken didn’t give up. He stabbed the tentacle again and again. Eventually, the creature let go, roaring like an animal in pain.

Ken swam as fast as he could, avoiding the monster’s tentacles reaching for him. He spot the wreck of an old ship and dove right inside a hole in the hold. The monster seemed to have given up, backing away from the ship. Noticing that he was safe for the time being, he started to calm down. That monster didn’t seem like a giant octopus nor a squid. Was it the form of a kraken maybe? Ken wasn’t willing to find out, not sure of how much oxygen he had wasted already from the start of the dive.

Ken ventured further into the ship, wanting nothing more than to find a way out. He wasn’t sure how deep down he was (it was too dark to tell) but he doubt that he had enough oxygen until he reached the surface. One way or another, when his turn is over, Dark Gemini will have to pull him out. The ship quietly creaked, giving Ken some anxiety of it crumbling on top of him. Nothing was in the ship around him, making it more eerie. Ken tried to think about it too much. That’s when he suddenly heard a loud thumping just to his right. Ken looked at the wall. There was another thump, rocking the ship a little. A small hole was made. Throwing caution to the wind, Ken peaked through it. Once he saw what was the cause he suddenly made himself scarce. Just as he heard the heart pounding crash of wood.

[anoutlandishfanfic]

AnOutlandishChristmas - #2

Here’s a peek at Julia’s first Christmas on Fraser’s Ridge from A Child of the Stones!

The premise of the fic is that Faith (in this fic, Julia, named after Claire’s mother) survives infancy and is separated from Claire when going through the stones to the future, but is reunited with them in North Carolina in an interesting twist. You can read more from this fic here.

December 24th, 1767; Fraser’s Ridge, North Carolina, USA Julia.

“Ian,” I glared a hole into the back of his head, “why are we going in circles?”

My companion visibly flinched and picked up his pace instead of answering.

“I know these woods better than you think I do, Ian Murray.”

“Oh, I ken,” he commented without looking at me, his voice so much like his uncle’s that I wanted to scream.

Instead, I decided to throw something at him. I scooped up a hand full of snow, rapidly formed it into a rough ball and chucked it. The snowball collided wonderfully with the back of his head, crumbling into a powder that fell down the back of his bare neck. Dodging the volley he sent my way, I quickly rearmed myself. My tongue flew as fast as the snow, my frustration finding an outlet in our impromptu snowball fight.

“Do you?! You ken how annoying it is to be babied all the time? To be constantly watched like a prisoner who’s going to make a run for it if they turn their backs for five seconds? Or how about being kidnapped? You know what it’s like to be taken away from everything that’s familiar and shoved into a world where... nothing makes sense! And... and you can’t go back, no matter how hard you try?”

I plopped down into the snow with a huff, my arsenal exhausted. The snowballs I had flung mostly missed their mark, leaving Ian unscathed, but my words seemed to have struck a chord. He stared down at me with a strange look on his face.

“Aye, I do,” he lowered himself to sit cross legged in front of me.

“I do ken… all of it.”

All of it?

“You… you were kidnapped too?”

Ian nodded, looking away.

We were quiet as snowflakes fell around us, the only sound in the forest was the wind in the tree branches above our heads, each alone with our thoughts for many moments.

“How did you escape?”

“I didna,” Ian studied a red cardinal that had swooped down to perch on a nearby fallen log, “Uncle Jamie and Auntie Claire rescued me.”

“Oh,” I commented lamely.

What on earth do you say to that?

He peeked at me out of the corner of his eye when an awkward silence fell, “Ye dinna have to escape from them, ye ken. They would never hurt ye.”

“They won’t let me leave,” I stiffened.

“Aye, but the way I see it, ye’ve already left them once,” he shrugged. “I dinna think they could survive ye leavin’ again.”

“That wasn’t my fault!”

“Nae, it wasna,” he agreed, “but neither was it yer mam’s that ye were parted from her.”

“She isn’t my mum.”

Claire Randall Fraser was many things and I knew without a doubt that she was my birth mother, but that title belonged to the woman who’d raised me as her own flesh and blood, not to the one who had abandoned me to die alone in the rain on top of Craigh na Dun.

Ian raised a brow at my vehement outburst, “Oh, aye?”

“My mum is dead,” I sniffed, wiping my nose on the back of my mitten.

He nodded in understanding, ever the sympathetic Scot, and let silence fall once more.

Squirming, I asked my original question again, “So, um, why are we going in circles?”

He looked back at me with a smile and shook his head.

“Tis a surprise.”

“A surprise?” I echoed, this being the last thing I expected.

“Oh, aye,” Ian straightened his shoulders in pride over his role, “I’m to keep ye out of the cabin until Uncle gives the signal.”

“What’s the signal?”

His amused smile spread into a full out grin, “I canna tell ye, ‘tis a surprise.”

…

Claire.

“Ready, Sassenach?” Jamie moved towards the door, pausing for a moment at my side.

Looking past him, I assessed our valiant attempt at a Christmas tree. It had taken us most of the day to decorate it with the supplies Thomas brought us the night before, but it still wasn’t as perfect as I wanted it to be. I just prayed it would be enough to bring a smile to Julia’s face... which was something of a rare occurrence since her miraculous return seven weeks ago.

This would be our first Christmas with Julia in over twenty years and I wanted it to be the best that it could be. Yet, even as my heart rejoiced in this celebration, it ached with the intensity of my yearning for Bree. The weight of my desire to hold her close, to gather both of my daughters into my arms at the same time, was crushing me.

“Mo chridhe,” Jamie slid one hand around my waist as the other lifted my chin, pulling my gaze up to meet his. I found my pain mirrored in his eyes, a shared ache for the daughter we held dear.

“They are safe and well,” he crooned as his lips brushed against mine.

I knew this, I truly did, but was I selfish to want them safe, well, and with me?

Jamie smiled, his fingers playing with the curls at the nape of my neck, “Nae, Sassenach, ‘tisna selfish. Ye’re a wonderful mother. I ken it, I’ve watched ye. Every mother wishes her bairns were at her side…” his voice trailed off as his eyes grew moist, “and every father too.”

…

Julia.

“Why do I have to close my eyes?”

Ian turned away from the door to the cabin, his hand poised to knock and announce our presence. He narrowed his eyes, “For the last time, I dinna ken. Auntie Claire told me to have ye do so and tell ye ‘tis for the surprise.”

“What’s the surprise?”

“I dinna ken!” He grabbed my hands and placed them over my eyes, “Just cover yer eyes, ye’ll see in a moment.”

“But how can I see it with my eyes covered?”

Ian let out a holler of exasperation as he pounded on the door.

I heard it open and he took hold of my shoulders, shoving me over the threshold. Warm hands replaced Ian’s cold ones as Da’s voice floated above me, his smile evident even though I couldn’t see it.

“Buidheachas, mo ghille.”

…

Claire.

“Can I look now?” the lilt of Julia’s question in Gaelic was muffled slightly by her hands being in front of her face, as well as the bulk of her father standing between us. I watched Jamie’s shoulders shake in silent laughter before he looked over her shoulder to grin at me.

I nodded and he stepped aside, “Aye, ye can, a leannain.”

Julia lowered her hands and gasped at the sight of the tree. My own breath caught in my throat as her face was completely transformed, the lines of grief and internalized trauma melted away to reveal pure, innocent delight.

She was two years old again...

My happy and contented child once more.

…

I lay in the dark and tried to figure out what it was that had woke me.

The usual sounds of the cabin surrounded me and I could hear Jamie and Ian’s deep, even breathing. A delicate sniff broke the reverent quiet, telling me Julia was no longer asleep. Lifting myself up onto one elbow, I noticed the copper gleam of her hair from the glow of the fireplace. I saw her wipe her face on the sleeve of her nightgown and I knew in an instant that I wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon.

She caught my movement from the corner of her eye, and turned to apologize in a whisper, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

My heart broke once again at the knowledge that she’d rather cry alone in the dark than wake me to comfort her. I rose from my bed, scooping Julia’s quilt up from her pallet on my way past, and sat next to her in silence after draping it around her shoulders.

“You’re different than what I thought you’d be, you know.”

This surprised me and I tried to study her face in the darkness, searching for the little girl I knew within the stranger beside me, and found nothing but empty shadows.

“I thought that only a crazy person would leave their kid like that, somebody who didn’t know how to love me the way I needed to be loved. For my whole life, I believed that you chose to leave me how you did,” her voice became strained, a new wave of tears evident, “but you didn’t.”

“You didn’t leave me and you did love me and you had a whole life with… with my sister, and not with me!”

Leaning forward, I took her into my arms and onto my lap, cradling her head against my chest as she cried great hiccuping sobs, just as I had when she was small. She clung to me, pulling herself closer instead pushing away for the first time since her arrival. We cried together, there on the cold floor, sharing tears of regret and healing, of loss and discovery, and, most of all...

tears of unending love.

[ladygloucester]

A common enemy - The confrontation

Previously...

Never heard before sounds reverberated in her ears. The agony screams, the gaelic slang, but above all, the steel. The clashing of the swords, the noise the blade made when it entered the flesh, the crash of life and death on the dirt. It was frenetic. The overwhelming fear, the uncertainty of the nearest future, the smell of demise burdening her nose. All her senses were sharpened and, at the same time, her mind was completely blocked faced with all the stimuli that flooded her.

Time slowed down to a painfully unhurried cadence. When the red dash of curls appeared through the door, her heart skipped a bit in panic, then resumed its beating, fast, runaway. The fear and her instincts kicked in and when the highlander began to come closer, Claire took advantage of his unexpected change of demeanor and threw her foot as hard as he could against his face, hitting him with a loud thud. Then she launched herself through the door, hoping to bypass the highlander and escape, but she miscalculated his strength. With gaelic profanity still ringing in her ears, she felt his arms surrounding roughly her waist and holding her over his shoulder.

“Let me go!! You fool, bloody brute!!“ She screamed while kicking.

“Watch it, meer. Ye might kick me once but next time I will treat ye as I do with my mules.”

But Claire didn’t stop fighting. When they both came out the carriage, her frantic skirmish made her hit her head with the threshold and dizziness took her senses away. Jamie felt her body get calmer, and allowed her to descend in front of him, sliding her against his chest, keeping his arms solidly wrapped around her waist and capturing her own arms under his bond. The men saw him and their faces varied from astonished to disappointed, in a colorful array of sneers, most of them directed at his bloody nose.

“Didna know Randall wore skirts these days,” said Angus causing a general burst of laughter in the middle of the adrenaline rush they all felt.

Dougal, however, didn’t laugh. Not even a sly smile crossing his thin lips. He accommodated his bonnet, and cleaned the blood of his mouth against the sleeve of his shirt. Jamie’s eyes watched his uncle while he slowly strode towards them. He felt the English woman resistance quietly subside, but still was there, dormant, just waiting for the concussion to go away. He made a gesture to Rupert, one of his clansmen, to get some rope and tie her hands, but as he was about get on with it, Dougal pulled out the rope from his hands, threw it to the ground and draw his dagger.

Just as he was unsheathing, Jamie pushed the woman behind him and put himself before her. Without Jamie’s support, she fell to the ground, numb and unaware of the rush of events that had developed in matter of seconds.

“Jamie lad, move. She canna live. She saw us.”

The faces of both men were close. Blue and brown eyes, defying each other. Jamie was one of the tallest man of the clan, but his uncle wasn’t any shorter. Silence overcame the scene, not even the wind dared to blow among the leaves. But where Dougal was impulsive and abrasive, Jamie had colder blood. He knew how to restrain his anger and contemplate honestly what was right and wrong. And killing that woman was wrong.

“We dinna ken who she is. We dinna even ken if she has anything to do wi' Randall.”

The tone of his voice was soft, as always. Low and rich, but there was a firm edge to it. Even though his eyes never left his uncle’s he was well aware of where the dagger was, and how he’d stop it if it came to that. Dougal was waiting for this. For a chance to measure himself against his sister’s bairn. The only one that, if things went sourly, could deprive him of ruling the clan one day. There was more at stake than the life of a wench. It was a clash of powers, of minds, and of different ways of seeing life and justice. After a silence that seemed to last forever, Jamie’s voice quietly filled the moment.

“We maun take her with us and fin’ out who she is. For nou she’s under my protection.”

Placing her under his direct protection was a bold move, and Dougal knew it. The clans law still ruled those hills and meadows, and when a highlander declared in this way, only killing him would deter him from fulfilling his promise. That woman wouldn’t die if Jamie didn’t first, and there was no time for it. Not yet, at least.

When Claire regained some control over her senses, the first thing she felt was the rope, rough and painfully tied around her wrists. Testing its strength, she realized it wasn’t too tight, but enough for it to be undoable. With a sigh leaving her parched lips, she leaned back to rest, only to realize the context of the situation. Between her legs there was a splendid Arab horse, and riding behind her with one arm around her waist and the other holding the reigns, there was a man, and not a little one. The shock was probably tangible in her body, because a familiar low voice spoke almost into her hair and sent chills over her spine.

“It was about time, lass. Thought ye’d sleep till the morn… No, dinna try to,” he warned her while tightening his grip on her. “Ye’d probably fall off the horse, and it’s not a nice way to start off yer day, losing all those pretty teeth.”

“My day already started with an almost decapitated soldier in my carriage. Don’t think it can get any worse,” she barked under her breath while he let out a low, quiet laugh, but stopped shaking the rope. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere ye can rest. We all can. ’Tis been a rough night for all of us.”

After a while, the dizziness was completely gone and replaced by a pounding headache. The blow against the threshold must have caused a gash in her temple, where she felt the skin tender and wet. The hours flowed slowly, excruciatingly slow. Her hips began to ache from the riding and even though at first she tried not to, Claire gave up and leaned against her captor. He didn’t seem to mind, as he stood straight on the horse, with the mastery of someone who is accustomed to long journeys on the saddle.

The sun was low when the group decided to stop. To avoid being seen, they had left the road aside and the ride was a test of resilience for everyone. The man who appeared to be in charge restrained his horse and looked around, inspecting the turf.

“Aye, we camp here for the night. Tend to the horses first.”

The redheaded highlander riding behind her got off the horse more gracefully than it was expected for a man of his size, and grabbed her waist to help her down. His hands felt strong, and when she stood on the ground, she could feel the heat irradiating from his body, only inches away from hers. His cinnamon curls stuck to his forehead with a mixture of sweat, blood and drizzle, and obscured his deep blue eyes, who lingered upon her a bit more than it seemed necessary.

He then grabbed her rope and drove her carefully to a tree nearby, helping her sit by the trunk.

“Dinna move or try to run. Ye ken you willna make it far before we get you.”

It wasn’t a threat. It was a statement. With her hands tied, the soreness of her body longing for a warm bead and the headache making her feel the blood rushing through her brain, there was no chance she could plot an escape. Let alone fulfill it. She nodded silently and laid back against the wet bark, closing her eyes.

The small camp was instilled with life. Every man knew what he was supposed to do, and while the redheaded was in charge of the horses, others prepared the bonfire and a couple of them left to inspect the vicinity with small bows. The sun was already setting and darkness expanding over the crown of the trees when the man who captured her returned, followed suit by two of the men carrying two small rabbits.

She hadn’t realize how hungry she was until the smell of the stew started to smoke. And then, it all hit her at once, unleashing a wave of fear that shook her to the bone. She was alone in the forest, with outlaws and murderers that had exterminated her whole caravan. As much as she knew, they could kill her in her sleep and they seemed pretty favorable to the idea in her eyes, all together a few feet away from her, whispering in gaelic and looking at her over their shoulders. No masters of discretion, that’s for sure.

“Who d'ye think she is?” Rupert asked, hands on his hips.

“The best way to fin’ out is to ask her.” Jamie grabbed the flask that was being passed along and took a long sip. He looked around and turned to the woman sat by the tree, squatting down in front of her and offering the flask. She refused with a gesture of her tied hands, but Jamie insisted. “'It willna fill your belly, but it will make ye forget you're hungry”. She slowly nodded and grabbed the flask, taking a long sip before returning it.

“Why are you taking me with you?” She inquired with a spark of pride flying in her eyes. Jamie smiled and covered the flask.

“We dinna ken who you are, Sassenach. It would help your situation to throw some light on the subject.”

Her eyes dropped and Jamie could see her mind running wild. Obviously she was going to lie, but at least he was willing to give her the chance to tell the truth.

“We dinna want to hurt you. We can, and some of us are more willing than others,” he added looking slightly over his shoulder, “but you are safe with me. Ye need not be scairt of me. Nor anyone else here, so long as I'm with ye.”

The woman looked him straight in the eye, confused, surprised and still not fully trusting him. It didn’t matter. He had uttered the words and would die, if it came to it, to keep his word.

It was stupid to trust him, that’s for sure. But there was something in his eyes, some sort of… Comfort? Sincerity? She couldn’t put a name to it, but it was warm. And inviting.

“You’re asking me who I am and for all that I know, you’re just a kidnapper and a fugitive.”

A smirk started to appear in his lips and a small chuckle followed it.

“Fair is fair, Sassenach. I’m Jamie.“

“Claire.”

Next…

[sapphyrelily]

ember

Inspired by Benjamin Francis Leftwich’s Kicking Roses

You kneel, touching the ground, eyes scanning the foliage. Picking up the lightest scattering of pollen, where others wouldn’t notice anything.

“Korra, come.”

Your fern hound steps up beside you, touching her nose to the tracks, sniffing for clues. She looks up, meets your eyes, and lopes off in the direction of Rata Sum. You get to your feet, brush your hands off, and follow.

It’s been several months since you started tracking this person, and you are no closer to finding him as when you set off. You miss his meetings with the Nightmare Court by a day, maybe two. The tracks are never fresh enough for you to decide who to go after, but you know that you’ll always choose to chase after him.

No matter which of the Court meets with and tries to subvert him, he will resist, as he always does.

But still you wonder: why does he allow them to keep speaking with him? Why does he tempt their lies?

Why does he leave a trail of desolation in his wake after each meeting?

You thought at first, that every and anything invited his wrath. But as the weeks passed, so did the destruction narrow down, until it was mostly unwanted, poisonous things that he left behind.

A devourer carcass in Ascalon. Several centaurs throughout Kryta. Many icebrood, during the brief stint in the Shiverpeak mountains. Drakes and krait and giant spiders, Risen and many others during his time in the Maguuma Forest. From just one creature to scores left behind, you can only wonder if he was trying to send a message to someone.

For you know him, and you know he can avoid all these creatures if he wanted to. It feels as if he was purposely seeking them out, looking for something to vent his anger on.

He never had been good at controlling himself.

Korra barks from up ahead, sticking her nose into a patch of bush. You jog up to her, part the leaves with the end of your bow.

A scrap of black cloth hangs on the edge of a twig, and your lips twitch up.

He knows you’re tracking him, but he isn’t telling you to stay away. Maybe he knows, that you didn’t come of your own accord, that you were sent by someone else. Someone bigger, with greater authority. With greater worry.

“Can I count on you to bring him home, my child?”

“Yes, Mother. Of course.”

…maybe at first, it was just a mission to bring him home, because it is terrible every time the Nightmare Court manages to corrupt a Dreamer. But now, after months of tracking, after months of tracing his steps and speaking to the people he has spoken to – now, you begin to see what he’s thinking of. Just a little.

(You see, maybe, that he’s as lost as you are.)

(Being lost isn’t the same as rejecting the Dream. There are many kinds of lost.)

(You hope you’ll find him, before the Nightmare Court can finally convince him.)

(Because one may mistake a type of loss for another, and give in at the faintest whiff of hope.)

-----

You think you recall a faint memory of him – it feels like a dream, because you remember it in a haze. Yet, you are sure it is not, for when you awoke your limbs were heavy and there was an almost unnoticeable scratch just under your wrist guard. Korra seemed equally out of it that day, and you could guess – a far-fetched guess – that he had come to meet you, that he had drugged you to speak to you.

“Stop following me.”

You raise a hand – you try to, but it doesn’t move, it is too heavy. You want to sleep, you are so tired…

Slim hands grip your face, the copper glow of his luminescence lighting the hazel eyes gazing into yours, making them glow eerily. “Eita, please. Go home.”

“Pale Tree… Sent me… Take you… Home.”

He shakes his head, releasing you, backing away. Draws a black mask over the lower half of his face, reaching for a vial at his hip. “I can’t. Not yet. The Court thinks they have me, but I want to infiltrate deeper first, root them out, kill one of their superiors.”

“Don’t… Dangerous…”

You think he might have smiled, but his eyes are sad. “I’m one of the best thieves next to Caithe, but she’s always busy. Faolain knows her. No one else will do it.”

“Please…”

“Go home, Eita. I think the Pale Mother knows what I’m doing.”

“Ken– Kenjirou…”

The other shakes his head, bending to trickle some of the liquid in the vial past your lips. “I won’t wait. It has to be done.”

And then he is gone.

You still can’t remember if it is a dream or a memory. But it feels like it happened not too long ago, and you wonder – if it is a memory, how much longer would you have to wait before he stops evading you, or he gets caught?

You don’t like entertaining that second thought.

-----

You are half in a daze as you move to your next location, the darkness hanging over Mount Maelstrom getting to you. There’s loud barking ahead, and you force yourself to snap out of it, hurrying towards where Korra stands, hackles raised.

A dagger smeared with drying sap lies abandoned on a patch of grass. There is no evidence of a fight, no scorched or flattened grass, nothing to show what has happened. You reach towards it, but hesitate, muttering a short spell over it instead. A slight yellow glow rises from the dagger, leading away from it, disappearing into the forest.

“Korra, track.”

The fern hound leaps ahead of you, following the fading trail, and you scoop up the dagger, hurrying after her.

You hope you aren’t too late.

-----

Up ahead, leading into the forest. You hear the rustle as people push past the foliage, and hurry on. You don’t know if the faint traces of pollen you see are from yourself, or from the sylvari who have just gone ahead.

You don’t have to wait long for an answer – shadowy figures jump out of the bush, weapons drawn. You answer them with arrows of your own, then jump in with the dagger you scooped up from the field. It nicks one of them on the arm, and their free arm swings their weapon at you – a move you block with a sword in your other hand. You push them back, slash at them; your movements are sloppy – you’re not made for close-quarters combat.

But still you press on, trade blow for blow until you see an opening, thrust the dagger towards them. The gash is hardly deep, but still they fall, convulsing. You barely stop to watch, turning to the other attacker that Korra is holding off, slicing towards them with the dagger.

A few more strokes with sword and dagger, and they too, are on the ground. You sheathe your weapons, and forge ahead, your fern hound at your heels.

There are others who appear, and stand in your way, but this time you are ready, and barrage them with exploding arrows, running past. You do not have time to get stuck in hand-to-hand combat when your friend is in danger.

Korra leads now, her running gait longer than yours will ever be, and you almost fall on top of them – your friend, fighting a Nightmare courtier on the small path.

You back up, out of their path, and herd your fern hound back as well, but this means you can only pick up bits of their conversation as they circle each other. Kenjirou seems to be winning, but the courtier looks smug, his expression triumphant. “The Grand Duchess would be pleased to have you, dead or alive. Traitors cannot be allowed to live.”

“I was never one of you,” Kenjirou hisses, his dagger darting in, slicing a neat line across the other’s arm. “I will never be one of you.”

“Really? Don’t lie to yourself, sapling.” The courtier’s movements are slower than before, and you draw your bow, ready to fire if he gets too close. “The darkness in your heart is deep. Even the Pale Tree is able to see that.”

“No. My darkness is mine, but I will not follow Nightmare. I believe in Ventari’s teachings.”

“Your darkness will overcome. Don’t lie to yourself any longer.”

You’ve heard enough. You draw your arm back, let an arrow fly, embedding itself in the courtier’s throat. Kenjirou jumps in, plunging his dagger into the courtier’s chest cavity, drawing it back as he jumps away. He doesn’t wait for the dead sylvari to fall, but turns around, throwing the dagger at you.

You duck instinctively, hear the blade embed itself in someone behind you. You rise out of your crouch, swinging your bow around, knocking your would-be assailant off balance, draw the other dagger from your waist and stab them in the neck. Korra knocks them to the ground and jumps into the bushes, barking. Then a light touch passes you by, grabbing both daggers from the body, pushing you aside to slash at more enemies.

The enemies that you didn’t finish off in your mad dash to get to him.

You stand where you are, shooting arrows while he dashes from attacker to attacker, slashing them here and there, slicing into their weak points. Further in the bush, there are snarls and barks as your pet brings down other, unseen attackers.  Working together, you take down what seems like an entire sector of the Nightmare Court, and while your quiver grows light, Kenjirou never seems to tire.

If his daggers grow slow and dull with the ever growing layers of drying sap on them, he doesn’t mention it, and it’s not until you are back-to-back, slowly scanning the area, certain that there are no more attackers, that he drops to the ground.

You put your bow away and bend down to help him, but he grabs you first and hauls himself up.

“Why did you follow me?” It’s a haunted whisper, full of tiredness, exhaustion. You shake your head, sighing.

“Because I thought you might be in danger.”

“I don’t need your help.” He stalks away, and you follow, keeping your distance.

“What was that back there, then?” It’s a soft demand, but a demand nevertheless. You don’t understand how he could keep putting his life on the line like this.

“That was you sticking your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong.” He spins around suddenly, jabbing you in the chest. “I’m serious. Leave me be. This sector of the Court is destroyed, but hope that Faolain never gets word of this. I still have work to do.”

“Why? Why must you do it?” You don’t understand. “Is it a Wyld Hunt?”

He stills. His voice is quiet. “No. It is something I wish to do, for our fellow sylvari.”

“There are better ways. You are strong, but hearts are easily corrupted by Nightmare–”

“And that is why I must stop them!” He grabs your shoulders, shaking you. “Someone has to. Caithe can’t do it, for her heart still lies with Faolain, no matter how many times she runs.”

“There must be a reason why the Pale Mother hasn’t done anything about them. Why don’t we convene with her–”

Kenjirou shakes his head, hair flying wildly. “No. She still sees them as her children, but children who have gone astray. She will not take away their autonomy, even though they have chosen to live apart from her.”

“Then why must you hunt them? Leave them be!”

“Because they will hunt us first!” His eyes are wild, desperate. “Can you imagine, if one day it has to be me, who hunts you down? Who has to kill you, because you are one of the Court? You’ve seen Caithe – she can’t kill Faolain. I don’t want to be the one who kills you!”

“I will never be one of them. Never.” It’s your turn to be angry – furious. How can he think like that? “My allegiance is to the Pale Tree and to protecting the people as I must. I will take my life first if I ever come close to becoming like them.”

Kenjirou shakes his head. “You’ll never know, that’s the thing. You begin to think they are right, that their ideology is correct, and that’s when it all falls apart. You’ll never know if you are turning to Nightmare, until you think the Pale Tree and all that the Dream stands for is wrong.”

“How do you know this?” It seems a bit suspicious, to you.

“You heard the courtier. I have darkness in me. I understand what they think, but that does not mean I want to follow them.”

You do not understand, but you have other issues to press. “And is what you are doing not wrong as well?” You point out at the wilderness behind you, finger shaking. “I’ve tracked you since you left the Grove. You’ve killed so many. Sure, they are the things that threaten people, that threaten lives and livelihoods, but are you not taking a bit too much pleasure in tearing those creatures apart? I know your handiwork. As of late, the death blows seem a bit too crude, even for you.”

He folds his arms. “It’s none of your business.”

“Except that it is! We promised to watch each other’s backs, and then you went and ran off by yourself. How can I watch and guard you, when you are nowhere to be found?”

“Maybe I want out of that promise.”

“Maybe you’re just being stubborn!” Your voice is loud, so much louder than it ever has been, and while he does not look cowed, his eyes widen a little. “Are we not connected to each other? To all of the life around us? Even if you no longer want to be my brother in arms, you will still be someone I care about, and I refuse to leave you behind because you are as daft as you are!”

“Excuse you!”

“No, excuse you.” You want to hit him over the head with your bow, but you have just enough sense left to know that such an action would not be well received. “What are those parables that we are always told? Especially the one about the ember?”

“We’re plant people. Why would we have stories about embers and fire?”

“Okay, maybe a charr told this one to me. But it doesn’t matter!” You point a finger accusingly at him. “If you take an ember out from the main fire, it loses its warmth and dies. But once you add it back to the flame, it glows and gains its warmth again.

“What I’m saying, stump-head, is that we are always stronger together. You can’t fight the Nightmare Court on your own, because they’ll always throw you back – because they outnumber you, especially if you are alone. Thousands have tried the same before you, but if there’s one thing we should have learnt from all those encounters, it’s that we can’t make any progress if we don’t stand together. Is that simple enough? Is that enough for you to understand that you have been away from the fire for too long, and it is time to return to your roots?”

He is silent a long while, and in the distance, you think you hear an animal calling. Korra shifts uneasily by your side, and though you want to reach out to her for reassurance, you restrain yourself.

Finally, he stirs. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine, I’ll come back to the Grove with you,” he snaps. “It’s about time I spoke to the Pale Tree anyway.”

You hope your slump isn’t too obvious. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go. All that yelling probably helped the Risen pinpoint our location.”

“Burn me. Come on.” You grab Kenjirou’s arm and start running back where you came from. “Were we that loud?”

The other snorts. “I think they could hear you on the other side of Mount Maestrom.”

“No, they couldn’t.”

“Yes, they could. Anyway, I think you need to return to the Grove more than I do.”

“What?”

“You swear like a charr. All those flame and plant metaphors together – it’s so obvious.” He snorts, running ahead. “How long did you spend tracking me through Ascalon? I wasn’t even in there for that long.”

“So maybe I found a few warbands along the way and marched with them for a bit.”

“Mmhmm? Steal anything good for me?”

“None were Iron Legion, so no.”

“None were Ash?”

“All were Blood, and they cradle their weapons to sleep.”

“You’re joking.”

“I swear by the Tree, it’s true.” You hold up your hands. “Maybe we’ll take a hike through Ascalon after we speak to the Pale Mother.”

“Deal. I want to see these warbands you befriended.”

“If they lop your head off, I’m not at fault.”

“I’ll tell them I’m your mate, they’ll respect that for a bit.”

“If they believe that, I’m actually a cabbage head.”

“You mean you’re not?”

“…I will shoot you and let Korra tear you apart.”

“You need me to make the trip back alive.” Kenjirou grins and skips out of reach. “I know all the shortcuts back to Lion’s Arch.”

“I’ll kill you after we convene with the Pale Mother.”

“The Wardens will catch you.”

“I will–”

Kenjirou snorts and runs back by your side, knocking you gently with his shoulder, cutting you off. His demeanour is suddenly a lot more serious, and your mood plateaus, waiting for what he has to say.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “For coming to get me.”

You nudge him back and grab his wrist, slowing both of you down. Korra stops and lopes back when she notices you are not following, and sits to wait.

“I will always come for you,” you promise. “Whether or not the Pale Mother ordered me to come, I would have come anyway.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not.” You offer a crooked grin. “We’ve always been brothers in arms, but I hope to expand that meaning a little more, at some point.”

“…what are you saying?” His eyes are hooded, but you can see him biting his lip.

You take a deep breath, months of worrying finally culminating to this point. “Would you like to be introduced to the charr warbands as my mate? For real.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are wide, mouth slightly open. “I was joking.”

“I am not.”

He shakes his head a little, but you see the smile he tries to hide, see the sudden flash as his copper luminescence darkens a tinge. He looks up, lips trying to remain flat and still. “If we get to Lion’s Arch alive, I’ll let you introduce me to the Pale Tree as your mate.”

You can’t stop your grin; your heart is suddenly buoyant, and you feel like you could take on an army of Risen. Instead, you tug him closer and lean forward to kiss his forehead.

“Deal.”

[ocprompts-andsuch]

LONG POST

So we ended up getting a lot of asks! Which honestly was fun as hell. However, I don’t want to spam our followers with 30+ posts, so, instead I’m making this.

mixolydian98 said:My OC is a misomaniac college professor who was transformed into a grotesque monster by an evil sorceress.

My OC Bor was cursed to live as a beast by a bunch of angry forest spirits -Ven My OC Ursa was cursed to be a werebear-Chris/p>

Anonymous said:My OC is an edgy, beatnik unicorn in a turtleneck sweater.

The closest thing I have is Priscilla, Sunan, and Hala are also very edgy -Ven My OC Cadence wears a sweater his husband made and tells edgy poetry -Chris

djdashieticktock said:My OC (Yesman) is a smelly rotting boi who needs to take a bath and chill on preforming necromancy

1. that’s a mood and 2. Priscilla is the result of necromancy -Ven My OC Beckett is a necromancer who wants to become a lich -Chris

Anonymous said:My OC is a mutated bunny who is a great mother.

My OC Dryn isn’t mutated but he is a great father! -Ven My OC Adrien is a great father and husband!

Anonymous said:I made my OC super trope-y because cringe culture is shit. She’s a witch with dark skin, bright blue eyes, and pink/magenta hair. She’s a bubbly baby who trains dragons for a living and I love her. Fight me Cus I’m having fun with her!

She sounds fun as hell! My OC Nelsis is a beast tamer who loves space and has a dragon (along with a plethora of other beasts that seem very intimidating but actually just act like dogs) -Ven Cringe culture is shit she sounds really cool! My OC Nimbus has naturally pink hair and she designed her hella mechanical wheelchair after a dragin she saw once -Chris

cyrokinetic-iceman said:One of my OCs is named Rory and he’s an Irish maid for Sean Cassidy from the xmen. he had long, frizzy red curls and is more freckles than man. He’s tall and bony with very pale skin. He’s a hemophiliac but also has mutant powers that allow him to take the energy (and in fatal enough cases life force) from organic life forms and he later discovers he can also enhance their energy and life force. He’s very shy but friendly and likes to bake and cook

Priscilla can take people’s life force (well really the demon that’s with her can but whatever) -Ven My OC Orion has a lot of freckles and red hair but he is trash at cooking -Chris

Anonymous said:My gay OC Steven had his arms ripped off by a demon, after breaking up with said demon.

Wow.. hmm.. My OC Tarryn only has two limbs because of an explosion -Ven My OC Nimbus lost use of her legs after being shoved out of a very tall tree by a schoolmate -Chris

PHANTASYMIST SAYS:my oc practices forbidden magic because of hunger for knowledge

my OC EcC0 is a hellish combination of magic and failed technology and he accidentally made himself and his friends immortal through a series of experimental magic and glitches -Chris

ANONYMOUS SAYS:My Oc is possessed by the spirit of a Samurai and is immortal because of this. She also owns her own City Apartment building and lives in one of her apartments, she even rooms with one of her tenants

My OC Shelby lives in the top room(home??) of the Penthouse her family owns and accidentally became a Naiad’s sugar momma -Chris

ANONYMOUS SAYS:My oc Icarus is the child of Aphrodite but gave up on finding love for themself.

My OC Darcy is a demi-god who always forgets that he passed down his powers to his 6 year old until she starts telepathically throwing his circus group around when having a tantrum -Chris

ANONYMOUS SAYS:My Oc Alex attracts portals to a different world and goes through them in order to close them. She knows a bunch of survival skills because of how often she goes and stays there, especially cause there aren’t any civilizations in the other world.

My OC Ken is a dimention hopper who accidentally got stuck in time jail with three alternate universe versions of his friend Angel -Chris

Uuh… my OC Bor knows a bunch of survival skills cause for a while he was a human living in the forest -Ven

ANONYMOUS SAYS:My OC Regalius is an 2000ish year old immortal who manages to screw up every relationship he has.

My OC Felix used to be dating an ex war goddess until she tried to leave him for dead (the other gods called her out on her bullshit) -Chris

I have an immortal OC Bor, he never gets into any relationships he just kind of sits in the forest and makes stew and helps lost travelers and protects the forest -Ven

THAT-AWKWARD-FANGIRL-270 SAYS:One of my OC’s is Ethan, he’s about half French and a gay trans boy and I love him so much and he’s also an adorable book nerd and has like a hundred thousand siblings (jk but there’s Lots and everyone is good at braiding like trust me sleepovers there are The Bomb) I love him

My OC Wesley is a french american who’s half succubus and owns a giant library, he’s also a necromancer -Chris

Uuh… I have a gay Hawaiian war vet named Jeremiah with like 9 siblings -Ven

ANONYMOUS SAYS:My OC Locke is the headmaster of a guild and he’s also dating another guy also named Locke who tried to steal his money once

My OC Cyrus met his first boyfriend while doing a stickup -Chris

Well… my OC Xaro first met Cinder when Cinder tries to steal his stuff? They’re not dating or anything tho Xaro literally ends up adopting him -Ven

BUNNIKKILA SAYS:My OC is a member of the HEMA Alliance! Her dream is to open her own fencing school, as most of the schools in her immediate area focus on Olympic fencing.

My OC Telly fences in his spare time and is teaching his boyfriends daughter how to -Chris

My OC Cinder loves fencing and is very good at it, but didn’t actually get to start until he was 15! -Ven

ANONYMOUS SAYS:My OC took Tae Kwon Do as a tween. She was one belt away from getting the black belt (highest rank), but financial issues made her have to quit.

My OC Poppy knows Capoeria -Chris

I have an OC who gets to the 7th dan of Judo by age 14 -Ven

ANONYMOUS SAYS:I have an OC based off the planet Neptune….her name is Neptune.(I know, real original name :/ )

I named my OC Castor after Pollux and Castor since I wanted a constellation name and I’m a Gemini -Chris

I have an OC named Snow White -Ven

REMEMBER-THERAIN SAYS:my OC Stevie is a 14-year-old aromantic/pansexual bounty hunter who travels the galaxy with her robot Lux :))

Oh cool!! My OC Dryn is also pan and sometimes does bounty hunting, he also travels a lot -Ven

my OC Castor ran away from home at 15 and is now one of the most renowned Space travelers of his species -Chris

DRAGONIANGIRL SAYS:My OC Nimladrie is a cleric of a drunk god that accidentally swore a blood oath but she can’t remember for what or to whom.

My OC Beckett accidently became a cult leader because he thought it was a Bards club -Chris

((Amazing)) Well uh… the closest thing I have is my oc Priscilla has blood contracts with like a shitton demons/daemons/etc

ANONYMOUS SAYS:My oc Yilim is… well. To plainly state it he one ugly ass mofo.

My OC Scrib is just,,,,, literally a poorly drawn doodle, i usually draw him left handed -Chris

My main OC Tarryn is also considered ‘ugly’, another OC I have is unarguably ugly because his face is literally a deer skull -Ven

ATQEVALE SAYS:My OC Matisse wears a really freaking ugly salmon colored hoodie to school every day and my other OC Sparrow has a crush on her in spite of this

My OC The Boy has no fucking clue what fashion is and neither does his mom Ursa (he’d get it from his dad to if he wasn’t a giant Stag) -Chris

Uhhh… my OC Mike is colorblind and until he memorizes his wardrobe he has to ask people he lives with what color the stuff he’s wearing is?? It led to an Outfit Disaster a couple of times -Ven

WEARETHERUSSIANTWINS SAYS:My oc Hayley Williams (aka Sailor Aries) has schizophrenia and ADHD

My OC Finch has ADHD to! -Chris

My OC Mike has ADHD(a few others do as well but I haven’t hashed that out yet) -Ven

ANONYMOUS SAYS:My OC Janice comes from a planet with pink water, and secretly prefers it over earth water.

My OC Scravenlay comes from a world that is mostly covered in turquoise freshwater that is extremely buoyant -Chris

ANONYMOUS SAYS:My oc Vlansen forgot all about his past and is in love with a hallucination!

My OC Cadence woke up in the middle of a battlefield with no memory of what side they were on and they later married the soldier who found them! -Chris

ANONYMOUS SAYS:i have so many OCs. But my mains are a Schizophrenic ex-hitman who runs a daycare and a half alien-human hybrid that has the ability to control plants and crystals ;v;b

My OC Brin is a (retired later in the story) Rebel Leader with a softspot for kids and animals and my oc Scravenlay was supposed to be the king of his species/people but decided he preferred to be an adventurer after an assassination attempt -Chris

Well… the closest I have is an assassin who also has a soft spot for kids? -Ven

THE-TINY-KRAVIST SAYS:My OC, Binary, is an android who is terrified of water!

My OC Rhys is a self made android (makes more sense in context of the story) who runs a roller rink -Chris

My OC Mike is terrified of water. He’s not an android he just can’t swim -Ven

ANONYMOUS SAYS:my oc has a brand on her left side right below her heart from where she forced to fight in an arena

One of my OCs used to have something like that, now the closest I have is Tarryn has a lot of scars from fights! -Ven

My OC Beckett has a lot of scars after the gang who owned him tried to kill him for trying to escape - Chris

ECHOING-NIGHT SAYS:My OC iasi is claustrophobic.

My OC Beckett tries to fit into small spaces when he gets nervous or scared -Chris

My OC Xaro is also claustrophobic! -Ven

ANONYMOUS SAYS:Uh my OC is a detective in the 1940’s

My OC Lost was a private investigator until he got possessed (this is close enough right?) -Chris

[indigozeal]

Shining Force character POWER RANKINGS

For my game, at least.

Max: I recall him doing respectably in battle pre-promotion.  Unfortunately, during his tenuous post-promotion period, enemy strength ramps up and combines with the aggro system and cheating RNG so that every time I tried to have him get some EXP by finishing off an enemy  -  NEARLY EVERY SINGLE TIME  -  a stray monster would wander over and get a "miraculous" double attack or stunning attack that would one-shot him.  Also, since he's the main character, his death means an instant Game Over.  Though he gains monster stats with each level up late-game, he never got the chance to level up much at that point, as I was forced to leave him and his lightsaber ensconced safely in a far corner of the battlefield for my party's survival.  Unfortunate, 'cause that's a very snazzy post-promotion outfit (to quote Lore Sjoberg).

Lowe, Khris: It's neat that healers can be viable attackers in this game, and I like that they gain experience from healing.  Unfortunately, their range of movement is middling, and their strike range is very narrow, so that by the time they get up to where they need to be to strike, stronger fighters are already occupying their would-be attack positions (or the enemy outright defeated).  That leaves healing as their EXP source, but they get such a dinky amount per spell and have such shallow MP pools  -  two or three heals, and they're out  -  that it's not a viable method of leveling.  The small MP pools (plus how close you have to be your target to heal via magic, particularly given how choked your front lines get late-game) make healers nonviable from the jump, honestly  -  they can be easily replaced by giving everyone a couple herbs, with their spots in the party better used by more efficient damage engines.  Lowe is a nonentity, but I feel bad leaving behind the plucky, adventuresome Khris.

Tao: Yeah.  Every guide I read says, "oh, Tao's OK in the early going, but she's quickly outclassed by Anri"  -  but my Tao was never anything but first-in-class.  The ehhhh mage movement range can be a little limiting, but you don't want her unprotected on the front lines, anyhow.  Since spells never fail to hit, her magic was invaluable late-game, when enemies start dodging nearly every attack your physical fighters throw at them (honestly, those Chimerae).  By the time she learned Blaze 4, she was my reliable damage engine and tied with Mae for the most precious piece on the board.  

Luke: Luke is the same class as Gort, but for some reason, Luke always got to the front lines too late.  He was never much help and got left behind relatively early.  I've heard some folks sing the praises of how Luke grew into a monster tank in their game, but, welp, that didn't happen in mine.  (I do think a lot of the "this character is godly/this character is garbage" ratings are greatly influenced by how the RNG happens to shake out in a player's particular game; look at the character FAQs, and you'll see a lot of variation in recommendations.)

Ken: Ken was a mainstay in my party throughout the game  -  I think he sat out only one or two fights.  He did great damage most of the game but lagged a bit in the end, doing OK but kind of middling damage (and sometimes not even that  -  and this was with a Power Ring equipped).  Part of the problem was the lack of ultimate weapons for centaur knights  -  only one long-range, which Mae had.  He did have one of the two short-range ultimate weapons, though, and was still doing not terrific.  I've heard that Ken gets monster defense for most folks, but that certainly didn't happen with me  -  he was markedly more fragile than Mae, who was an M1 Abrams by my endgame.  But he could still take a hit and dish out a bit of damage, and he was helpful in a support role with herb healing and using his Power Ring to boost other attackers, particularly given his great movement range.  *And,* I can't forget, he was a leading attacker most of the game.

Hans: Oh, I loved Hans!  His little jaunty Robin Hood hat and his shock of white hair beneath and the jaunty (can't get away from that word with Hans) way he held his bow and his small streak of cowardice and his general elven sprightliness.  I particularly loved how he delivered reliable, considerable long-range damage in the early going.  He continued being useful right up until the end stages.  Unfortunately, he got outpaced by Diane and Lyle in the very last battles and sank into the less EXP->smaller damage->less EXP negative feedback loop, so I couldn't justify keeping him in the party (though, I'll be honest  -  he probably would have contributed more to the final battle than Alef).  I bought an Ultimate Archer Weapon for him, anyhow.

Gort: Like Ken, I kept Gort in my party almost the entire game, except for one of two battles.  Like Ken, he starts to lag a little in the end  -  at 30 max, his HP was a little low to tank, and he did slightly less damage than Mae or Hanzou.  His damage was still respectable, however (with, I *think*, greater accuracy), and he remained a front-line fighter, though he got flatlined a bit more frequently than the rest. His attack animation is kind of stupid post-promotion, unfortunately.  I think he was the one who landed the final blow on Dark Dragon, though, so who am I to complain.

Mae: Nothing but good to say about Mae.  Huge damage, huge defense, huge HP.  My #1 attacker, leader of my front line, and (with Tao) all-around best gal.

Anri: Like Luke, Anri just never happened to get to the front lines fast enough.  I left her in the party in the later going due to the aforementioned issue with enemies dodging physical attacks, but she seldom did more than, like, 10 damage. She landed the final hit on Kane in my game, though, so, vengeance there.

Arthur: He has a reputation for being difficult to level, and that held true in my game.  I gave it a really good try, but it just didn't work.

Balbaroy, Amon: Flying attackers with no movement restrictions sound awesome, but they do piddling damage and fold like origami paper.  I gave Balbaroy (the better attacker) another try once high-level swords were available, but he did unimpressive damage and got reliably, promptly one-shotted.

Diane: Another archer with an adorable design!  Her bright pink hair goes so well against her forest-green hat.  Diane had stronger attack than Hans in my game, so she stayed till endgame; her terrific range and respectable damage (even at the end) made her a cornerstone of my team  -  she could take out or weaken enemies that were far away or on different tiers before they became a threat, and she could deal damage to tougher foes without taking positions away from front-line attackers. (You never learn in-game that she’s Tao’s sister!  What the hell is with that?!)

Zylo: Zylo's great.  His promotion hurts him: though he gained numerous levels and felled many foes afterward, he never regained the sheer battlefield dominance he had pre-promotion.  But he remained one of my front-line fighters, and his huge range of movement is formidable.  His post-promotion attack is markedly less cool (and seems to be less accurate) than his pre-promotion attack. (Side note: Back in the '90's, I subscribed to this RPG fanzine called Shining Forth, whose owner loved Zylo.  I therefore have fond memories of Zylo that date back before I even played his game.)

Pelle, Earnest: The centaur knights (well, save for Arthur) are terrific, with their huge range of movement, high attack & HP, and their ability to use lances to attack from long range.  At one point mid-game, I had all five centaur knights in the front lines of my party.  Unfortunately, the glut of new characters you get encourages you to rotate people out to experiment, and you are eventually confronted with a lack of respectable equipment for knights, so I decided to roll with my OG pair of Mae and Ken.  I do wonder if the time & equipment I put into Ken would have been better expended on Pelle or Earnest.  I do know that the time I spent experimenting with some folks would have been better invested in these boys.

Jogurt: I like the conceit of the character  -  a unit who can never be hit (at least by physical attacks) but can't deal anything more than 1 damage.  I perhaps should have taken advantage of it with some of the tougher foes late-game  -  used Jogurt to tank and attack with others long-range.  I prefer more direct means of combat, alas.

Domingo: Domingo served as a replacement for Anri most of the game, as he can actually get up to the front lines, being a flying unit.  He can also take hits like a champ, suffering only 1 damage from most physical attacks (though this is canceled late-game, when most foes use magic to attack and even mere brawlers are powerful enough to wallop him into double-digit damage).  Later in the game, his HP pool is a bit limiting (Freeze's increased expense puts it at a disadvantage to Blaze), and he tends to run out of MP in the early stages of battles.  But it remains useful throughout the game to have him fly into position and soften up or eliminate groups of troublesome enemies with a group Freeze spell, and even after his MP was expended, I still used his large range of movement to kite and to heal others.  A very valuable team member.

Guntz: It's not every RPG that hands you an armadillo in a mech suit, so I appreciate the effort there.  Guntz did deliver respectable damage for a good chunk of his tenure, but, like others, he eventually fell prey to his limited movement range, fell behind in level, and was replaced.  I understand he's a literal tank at later levels, but it didn't happen with me.

Lyle: It's also not every RPG that hands you a centaur with a bazooka and a Rambo headband.  Lyle was great and provided much-needed ranged support (combined with a centaur's scope of movement) and a bit mmore firepower than the other archers in the endgame.  He's a bit more fragile than Diane, though.  He also got one-shotted by a cheap "STUNNING ATTACK" by a trash enemy in the first couple rounds of the final battle, which is not a fate he deserved.

Bleu: I understand he's great if leveled, but he was doing like 1 damage one battle after joining.  C'mon, Climax.  You have no excuse for making a dragon this weak.

Alef: Yeah, I tried using her in the final stages for more magic power, but she just doesn't work.  She joins too late to develop and gets too little MP.  Bolt's a nice idea, but one use of it will drain her entire MP stock, and if you have enough enemies near you to make Bolt worthwhile, a) you're probably in too much trouble to survive, and b) Alef is near-certain to be targeted for destruction on the next turn.  Her levels are too low for her spells to do much damage, anyhow.

Torasu: I gave Torasu a couple chances in a few later battles, but he has the same problem as other healers: a couple spells, and he's dead weight.  His starting Aura (group heal spell) doesn't even heal for that much, and good luck leveling him up to something better.  You can't afford to expend a space on him at the end stages, when he joins.  (A few guides warn of certain failure if you go into the end battle without a healer, but I managed just fine with the Showers of Cure I'd saved, and I'm not even sure I wouldn't have made do just fine with herbs.)

Adam: See Bleu above, but substitute "robot" for "dragon."  I'm kind of miffed the designers just threw out so many characters near the middle & end stages on whom you have to waste a party slot for a battle or two to find out they're useless  -  you really need to use those slots to level better characters.

Hanzou: Very effective, with great attack, good movement, and OK defense.  You get him like three battles before the end, but given how dependable attackers like Ken and Gort were flagging to varying degrees in the endgame, another damage engine was very welcome.  He was one of my leading attackers against Dark Dragon, along with Mae and Zylo (with Gort & Ken on backup).

Gong, Kokichi, Vankar, Musashi: Didn't get them.  Evidently, you have to retreat from the first battles like a filthy coward to get Gong, and that never occurred to my valiant self.  I talked to Kokichi a bunch, but not at the right time, it seems.  Vankar I just totally missed.  I read the placard at which you need to look to get Musashi, but apparently it changes later in the game, and it's then you have to read it to get him to join, which is a lousy trick.

So my assessment of my endgame party:

Spearheads: Mae Hanzou Tao

Supporting Fire: Zylo Lyle (*honorary, as he was one-shotted early in the last battle, but he helped out a lot previously, particularly in that damnable Colossus fight) Diane

Lower-Tier but Still Effective Support: Gort Ken Domingo

Eh: Anri

No: Alef

Get in the Back: Max

In other news, I just learned via VGJunk that Shining Force II has ARMORED PEGASUS CENTAURS:

-  and thus must be played at some point along the line.

[ink-and-magic]

Ink and Magic

Chapter 1: For the night we fear

The days in Riverfell went by as usual, a calm routine as leafes turned colorful before falling onto the ground. The small village was preparing for the winter, harvesting the last parts of this year’s seed. The winters in Thesa were long and hard, especially in the more northern regions where Riverfell was settled. The village consisted of a handful of farm houses, a small tavern, and the rest of the residents being mostly lumberjacks. The forest on which edge it reseated contained a lot of strong firs and oaks, and they sold the wood to the castle of Blackwater’s, where the baron of the region lived, or used it to trade with other villages scattered around the Blackwater regime.

The months of long nights and snow were never pleasant, but there was not much they could do against it anyway, not more than usual. Taking care of their animals, the fields and village, or cut down trees. But right now the sun was still up and warm, making it possible for Marvin to sit outside in front of his cabin on the porch to carve new sigil posts. It was a tedious and slow process, to carve the rings of sigils evenly into the wood, and paint the lines afterwards. But he was the only person in the village knowing how to make working ban circles, since his father passed away a few years ago. He taught Marvin everything he needed to know before, and Blackwater’s did send another Magician for a few weeks to help him with his new responsibility.

And the circles of sigils were essential for the village’s survival. The posts were placed around the houses and fields, connected with wire made out of silver to complete the bans. A single post itself didn’t do anything, they had to be connected at all time. One uneven line, one cracked post, and the whole circle was useless. Marvin checked them all once every day, making sure the paint was strong, and the wooden posts not withered, the wire firm in between them. One small mistake could have deadly outcome, and it wasn’t always easy carrying that much responsibility alone.

Marvin set the carving tool back on the table for a moment, stretching his tense hands. It was then when he noticed another man approaching his house. As he got closer Marvin recognized Chase, with one of his daughters, Hazael, on his shoulders. The girl was giggling and holding on to his hair. They were close friends since almost childhood times, Chase still paying the sigil maker visits regularly after hunting. He set Hazael down to pull Marvin in a greeting hug. “Hello uncle Marv!”, Hazael greeted as well, smiling widely up to the two adults. The girl turned four years old last week, her older sister, Sam, being two years older. While Sam looked more like her mother Stacy, Hazael looked just like Chase. Well, besides the beard of course. Although Marvin wasn’t her uncle, or related to Chase in any way besides their strange similliar appearances, but both of the girls still called him uncle. He thought it was a sweet gesture.

“How are you holding up? Successful hunt today?”, Marvin asked, as they sat back on the table again, the magician pushing his utensils to the side a bit. “Eh, more or less. You already notice that the animals start turning in for winter, but I managed to hunt two deers and a boar”, the hunter answered, leaning back on his seat. Since the village was so small they decided against making profit and share what they made. They still had chances to make money for themselves, to get stuff from occasional merchants coming by every few weeks, but regarding food and other important supplies the community worked together to make it easier for everyone. “Sounds good for one day to me”, Marvin replied with a light grin, watching as Hazael played with a small stick, happy with herself. “It’s not bad, yeah, but I’ve managed more”, stated Chase, chuckling.

They chatted for a little while, sharing some news until the Hunter got up again. “I better head home, the sun will set soon. Take care friend.” “You too, greet Stacy and Sam from me”, Marvin returned, shaking Hazels hand with a smile as she held his hand out for him. “Almost like an adult”, he grinned, the girl laughing.

He kept working on the post until the sun reached the horizon, before bringing his supplies inside. Leaning on a beam supporting the roof over the porch he watched the sun slowly sink, dragging her golden light along, and letting shadows grow longer. There was light behind the windows of the village, he had a good look over it from where his home was located, and while they were still up, no one went outside. They didn’t fear the night, but what it brought upon them. Only a few minutes after the sun sunk completely the shadows seemed to move and raise up, like a breathing thing, until they started to take shape. Most of them were covered in black scales, like grotesque versions of animals, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. While the black breed commonly was named Horclings most of the villagers simply referred to them as demons.

The first one reached the sigil fence around his house. It looked a bit like a large cat, but with longer legs and a pointy, long head. Hissing it tried to get through, throwing himself against the invisible barrier, just to be thrown back with a small flash of light each time it did. Thankfully they covered the wooden posts in a mixture of tree resin mixed with something they called frostbite powder. Marvin actually didn’t really knew what it consisted off or why it worked, but as long as it made the posts fireproof he didn’t really care. Frostbite powder was more a secret recipe among healers. And so the horcling could spit fire all he wanted, the wood would not catch on fire, neither break the circle.

Since the region wasn’t that well inhabited there weren’t waves of Horclings coming out at night, but still enough to be a danger to better stay inside the ban circles. They were growling and roaring, trying to find a way in. No one knew since when they existed, or what their purpose was. There were many of them, all different kinds. Fire demons, wood  demons, even some that could fly. He heard of stories where Horclings lived in water, tearing boats to shreds, and of some that hid in snow, others being made out of stone and giants compared to them. Mankind did good to fear them. Many tried to kill them, but their wounds recovered within seconds, and too many people died trying. All they could do was hide and wait behind their sigils, and Marvin would be damned if he just accepted that. There had to be a way to kill them, and send them back to whatever demonic realm they came from.

His eyes wandered over the collection of houses and Horclings between them, some small, some almost as tall as a grown man, on four or two legs. Marvin already turned away to get inside as well as a bright flash of light accompanied a loud band. And suddenly there was fire. He felt his heart freeze as he realized it was at Chase’s house.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he grabbed the nearest unfinished post, running off and leaping over the silver wire, dodging a flame demon to his right. And he just ran as fast as his legs allowed, in between raging demons. He stopped inside the cycle around Chase’s neighbor, a broad lumberjack named Ken, looking at the damage. He didn’t know how, but the ban circle was broken, a hoard of flame demons swarming around, the house on fire. Ken stormed out as well, an axe in his hand. “I’ll clear the way, get them out!”, he yelled, already running off making as much noise as possible to distract the creatures. It worked for now, Marvin rushing over to find the door blocked by something behind it. Not bothering to try he smashed the nearest window. “Chase?! Stacy!?” he yelled inside, the face of his friend appearing in the frame. They seemed to have tried to block all entrances to keep those demonic hellspawns out. “Get the kids!”, ye screamed back, running back just to come back with Hazael on his arms. Marvin quickly took hold of the panicking girl, sprinting back into safety of Kens circle, where Mary, his wife, quickly took her inside while the Magician already ran back.

Smashing the post against a Horcling to swat him away, since the first ones already lost interest in ken who kept them near another ban circle, he returned to the window, helping Stacy outside, telling her to run to safety as well. “Chase and Sam are still inside you’ve got to help them!” the Blonde was almost hysterical, but quickly was dragged along by Mary as Marvin jumped through the window, following the heartwrenching sound of Sam crying. He found them in the kitchen, the first flames already reached the inside of the house, The Hunter trying his best to keep a flame spitting demon away from them. It didn’t seem to bother about the arrows stuck in his body, hissing and jumping from place to place, while Chase tried to fight it off with Sam on his other arm. Marvin quickly reacted by bashing the creature down on his head, leaving it dazed for a few seconds. Not much, but enough for Chase to pass the room and run for the window, followed by his friend.

Marvin jumped out first, Chase practically tossing his daughter into his friends arm before climbing out himself. Marvin already sprinted towards Mary again, who found enough courage to leave the cycle to rush towards him. He heard Chase howl in pain just as he gave Sam to Mary, whipping around to see that there one of the black beasts had dug it’s claws inside his calf. The hunter tried his best to kick the demon off somehow, get back on his feet before more could reach him. They smelled the blood and wanted more. Without the hesitation the Magician ran back again, kicking the creature off in the momentum of his movements, already pulling his friend back on his feet. He heard him hiss and curse with each step, but they made it back into the circle just in time, collapsing on the ground. Ken was back too, looking at the herd of horclings throwing themselves against the barrier screaming and growling.

Once everybody was inside again, Mary and Stacy took care of the kids first. Hazael was, besides a few scratches, unharmed, but Sam had pretty bad burns across her back and face. Chase and Marvin were just sitting next to each other, staring blankly out of the window where the flames swallowed the house. Chase was still silent as Mary took care of the slashes in his leg, while Marvin tried to stop his hands from trembling. It was impossible. He had checked each post this day, it was simply impossible that the circle didn’t work. His friend’s family could have died. And no matter what, it was his fault. And he never felt so unnerved with the whole situation as he did now. He didn’t wanted to spend the rest of his life in fear of the night, damned to be helplessly watching these creatures slowly but surely ruining them. He didn’t wanted to imagine what would have happened if Chase and his family didn’t make it. “Hey. I trust you, alright? We’ll go see what went wrong once the sun is up again. Until then you should try to sleep, too”, Chase stopped his trail of thoughts, a hand placed on Marvins shoulder. He nodded, blinking the tears away that glistened in his eyes. Chase was sleeping on a makeshift bed by the kids. Marvin was still staring out of the window by the time of dawn. ______ And that was it so far, Feedback in all form is appreciated :) Yes already started out a bit angsty, but believe me, it will get worse. And better. And worse again bc I’m a sadist piece of trash. Anyway, The AU/Crossover is inspired by The demon cycle series by Peter V. Brett, for those who don’t know the books don’t worry, according lore and background will be found later on in the Fic.

[jnhelvoigt]

Never Never - Chapter 7: Some Sort of Stroke

Peter pounded the cabin’s door with his fists. He feared splinters, so he pounded in a very staccato fashion and made sure not to drag them down the door out of angst.

“Let me out you coward!”

It seemed as though he’d been locked in there for hours. It was impossible to tell, because every one of the many clocks in these quarters was smashed in.

The captain loved smashing clocks.

In the past, Peter had used clocks to bait the Hook, knowing that if he left one sitting anywhere, Hook would be sure to find it and do it in.

The knob rattled slightly and then fell still. Peter grabbed it and turned it. The door opened and he found himself staring at a crew hard at work doing whatever it is pirates do when they aren’t looting the booty. No one was staring at him.

Hook was nowhere to be seen.

He tiptoed out onto the deck and jumped into the air. Once a safe distance above the skallywags he crowed, “Hook! Hook where are you?!”

The crew all turned to look at him, and with one collective eye-roll they resumed their duties.

Peter’s mind tried to race, but didn’t know which direction led to the finish line. So it wandered. It dug under rocks, scurried through gulches and skipped across ponds in search of answers. Why did Hook not fight him? Why did he run away? Why did he throw poor Ken in the Boo Box? Where is he now?

In the midst of all this wandering, his mind drifted unexpectedly to a certain young girl in a blue nightgown. The thought was highly irrelevant to the matters at hand, so he cast it aside and began flying laps around the ship in search of answers to his relevant queries.

The thought returned.

It did not suggest that this had anything to do with her. It was just a thought about the time she sat at the base of the mast, cheering for him while he swashbuckled the old codfish. He was sure the rest of the boys were cheering for him too, for they always did, but for some reason he couldn’t hear them. Just her soft voice, “You’ll get him Peter, I know you will!”

Why now? Now was the time for… for something. What was it? Oh yes. Where was Hook? Also, how is Ken?

Ken!

In all the confusion, Peter forgot to care about the well-being of his new friend. With a kick of his feet, he soared to shore while tugging his hat firmly onto his head.

She almost drowned in these waters. At the time it was pretty funny, but she didn’t see it that way. He’d never seen the mermaids actually kill anyone, so he was pretty sure they were just playing around.

“Not now!” he shouted at his own brain. He wondered if he was sick. It was the only thing that made sense. Neverland was in a curious sort of turmoil. How could his mind be wandering to memories that didn’t lend any sort of help to his current situation? It didn’t add up. He’d have the boys assemble a clinic once he knew that Ken was okay.

Peter passed over the beach and into the woods. He could see the tree up ahead. Outside knelt boys who looked to be Nibs and Tootles.

Those two were always a pair. Not in a ‘Butch and Sundance’ sort of way. They just often ended up together due to circumstance. And that circumstance was usually sleeping in.

As he drew nearer, he noticed that the Boo Box was shattered. This startled him and he darted faster.

“Is he okay?” Pan shouted.

His voice startled the duo. “Oh! Yeah! I mean sort of. He’s a mess emotionally,” responded Nibs.

Peter dropped down by the side of the box. Kendall was indeed a mess. Tears and slobber and urine stained most of his clothes. He wiped at his face over and over again, like he was trying to erase it.

“Hey man, thanks for the diversion. I snuck out thanks to you.”

Kendall thought perhaps a small smile emerged onto his face in response to Peter’s gratitude, but no smile actually came.

“Let’s get you out of there. I have some other clothes you can borrow if you want.”

Tootles chimed in, “We could make him some of his own.”

“Good idea, Tootles. We wouldn’t want him looking too much like me. Then who would give the orders?”

“You still would. But we wouldn’t believe you,” said Tootles.

“Exactly. Now let’s help him out of there.”

The three of them gathered to one side of the box and lifted with their backs, not their knees, dumping Kendall onto the forest floor.

“Alright! Now that Ken’s good to go, we must get him some clothes, and assemble a clinic. I think I’m having some sort of a stroke. Tootles, you will be the tailor, and Nibs, you will resume your duties as master surgeon.”

They all had a good laugh about the word ‘duties’ and hurried to begin their tasks, leaving Kendall face down in the dirt.