#he took out an entire horde of bandits

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @dontcrywrite! Sorry I took a while to get to this one

Find the Word Tag

My words: stairs, rush, soft, light

(I'll use my new wip for this one)

Your words: pointed, noon, heat, steel

(Tagging @bumblebeebats @apolline-lucy @kosmic-kore @goldxdarkness and anyone else who'd like to join!)

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Once dry, he threw on the clothes Heshorian had gotten him, only to grimace at how itchy the new fabric was. Not that he didn't appreciate his teacher's patronage, but the man could stand to learn a little bit more about form versus function. Bayl felt like a damn princeling peacock buttoned into the pine-colored vest. After checking his bag to make sure all his stuff was still there---stuff that consisted solely of a spare outfit, some stolen goods, and a textbook he couldn't read---he left the room, making sure to disable the alarms he'd set around the door as he went.

The sound of low conversation met his ears upon entering the opulent hall. Bayl frowned and crept towards the stairs. He still wasn't totally sold on the fact that Heshorian wasn't about to sell him to a slaver. Maybe this Uman guy was his contact?

.

"I picked him up off the side of the road." As Uman opened his mouth, Heshorian rushed to explain. "That's actually not far from the truth. He's an orphan, I assume, from Landanium. He stole my coat."

"Stole your coat?" Uman pointed at the red and bronze alchemist's coat he wore, and had been wearing since graduating with it. "That coat?"

.

The alchemist stared tiredly down at his quarry. He could've been angry, sure, but the young man was obviously clever enough to work the system. Really, he didn't seem like a bad sort at all. But, then again, most street kids didn't. It was hard to reconcile that bad things happened to good people, so most upstanding citizens found it more convenient to pretend the hordes of unwashed drifters were corrupt, or stupid, or otherwise less deserving of a hot meal and a soft bed. The truth was though, the only thing separating them from those they despised were a few unlucky days.

.

But the townsfolk had told her everyone was accounted for! Daila had specifically asked if there was a possibility of a hostage and the people had said no! Gods beyond, the boy had probably just been visiting from the nearby swamp and none of the townsfolk had recalled his presence. The necromancer gritted her teeth as this whole shitshow took on another dimension entirely. A selkie child dead in a human village would make a bandit raid look like a polite bout of fisticuffs once his enclave found out.

Slowly, Daila lowered her osseolabe, tapping the runes that changed the light back to white. From within the bank, she could catch the glint of crossbows tracking her movement.

[amoebaforce]

hey its really cool you're writing ffxiv fics! I just did new game plus and I've been thinking about Thancred a lot lately. How he beat himself up a lot about the Ifrit questline, how he kind of looks out for the WoL when he comes back in post HW patches, and how he seems happy to be able to fight primal with the WoL in EW when they have a defense against tempering. I think it would be cool if there was a wholesome fic of Thancred worrying about the WoL.

thanks for being my first request!

and you're so right, we definitely need some wholesome Thancred content. this man has been through it!! talk about survivor's guilt. so here you are: a slightly angsty Thancred fic, set during a Shadowbringers mission :)

summary: Thancred gets a little antsy waiting for the WoL to complete a mission. WoL uses they/them here. tags: implied violence, injury/death mentions, angst!!!, gn!WoL word count: 1,284

It was a simple mission. Get in, cut through some Sin Eaters, kill the Lightwarden, and get out. Nothing big, nothing fancy. It was the kind of mission that’d be rather commonplace on the Source, especially for the Warrior of Light… or Warrior of Darkness, as the locals had taken to calling them. Thancred knew this. So why couldn’t he calm his nerves?

His heart started pounding the moment the Warrior dipped out of sight, drawing their weapon as they and their party of peers descended into the Lightwarden’s cavernous lair. A few seconds later, an uproar of clashing metal and bursting magic told him the fighting had begun. The sound swelled for a few moments, then faded into the distance. Thancred had fought alongside the Warrior of Light long enough to know what was going on. They were running and taking pot shots at the monsters, luring the horde deeper into the caves until they found the perfect place to stop and unleash an explosive attack. 

It was a risky move, Thancred thought, but that was just like the Warrior. Always flinging themselves into danger, always assuming the burden, always pushing the limit, no matter the cost. And he just let them do it again. Thancred crossed his arms to hide his balled fists, leaning against the carved stone wall behind him. The dread pooling in his stomach was a familiar one. Every time he watched the Warrior run off into a perilous place without him, the feeling crept back up on him. It only got worse and worse the higher the stakes became.

It was always life and death, of course. Even before they were the Warrior of Light, when they were still fighting bandits and cactuars in the desert, there were real lives hanging in the balance of every conflict. It was just the scale that changed. At first, it was a band of adventurers, or a company of soldiers. Then it grew to a city, a nation, an entire continent… And now, it was an entire star on the brink of being consumed. That’s what the Scions were fighting to prevent — that’s why the Warrior of Light was down in the bowels of an enormous well, being snapped and clawed at by the husks of this world’s former inhabitants.

Thancred knew this, too. It didn’t make it easier for him to stand around and wait. He tried to busy himself. He took apart his gunblade and cleaned it, oiling and polishing each part until the metal reflected the unnatural, pale-yellow glow that saturated the heavens overhead. At the sight of sickly lemon light dancing across the barrel, Thancred gritted his teeth. Gods, there was no escaping it, was there? Even the sky reminded him of the mission. He sighed, letting his head roll back to rest on the wall.

What if this was it? What if the Warrior of Light had finally bitten off more than they could chew? A ghastly image flashed through Thancred’s mind — limbs tearing, blood splattering — and he grimaced. It would be fitting, in a sick kind of way, for them to meet their end on this accursed, stagnant star. After all, this place had already stolen one comrade from him; maybe it wouldn’t rest until it took them all. Thancred’s gaze roamed to Ryne. She was sitting a few feet away, sharpening her knives with a thoughtful expression on her serene face. 

Minfilia, the voice in his mind called her, even though he knew it was wrong. Ryne was her own person now, and Thancred had accepted that, but sometimes looking at her still felt like looking at a ghost. Memories flooded his mind. How many times had he shared a table with the Warrior of Light and the real Minfilia, talking and sharing their dreams for a peaceful Eorzea? How many times had he promised he’d keep her safe? How many times had he kept his word?

Thancred’s throat tightened painfully as he dropped his eyes to the rocks between his feet, desperately hoping this wasn’t a noble sacrifice in the making. He wasn’t sure he could handle another one. And if the Warrior of Light didn’t come back, what would the Scions do? What could they do? The real Minfilia sacrificed herself to give this world a fighting chance, but only the Warrior of Light had the power to see her work to fruition. If they died, it was all over. Minfilia’s death, the Exarch’s toil, the suffering they’d endured as they waited for the WoL to arrive in the First… it would all be for nothing. 

And he’d lose one of his closest friends.

The thought was too much. Thancred huffed out a breath, trying and failing to slow his heartbeat. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. Focus, he scolded himself. It was irresponsible of him to get so distracted. If something went wrong, the Warrior would need him, and here he was, with a disassembled gunblade and a stomach full of knots. He frowned and went about putting his sparkling weapon back together. As he snapped the final piece back into place, a far-away roar rumbled the rock around the waiting Scions. Thancred snapped to his feet, heart seizing in his chest.

“What was that?” he demanded. 

Y’shtola and Urianger lifted their heads. They were huddled near the rim of the well, where they’d been discussing something in hushed tones. Another dozen paces away, the Leveilleur twins jolted upright from their seats on a boulder.

“The Warden,” Y’shtola replied evenly, peering with murky silver eyes into the yawning pit. 

“Our hero hath reached the nest,” Urianger said.

Hero, indeed, Thancred thought, and the notion made him a little sad. 

Everyone hurried to stand at the edge. Try as they might, no one could see nothing out of the ordinary, but strange, warbling cries echoed up from somewhere far, far below them. The Warrior of Light had the Warden on the defensive, judging by the amount of explosions underscoring the beast’s grinding calls. Thancred’s knuckles went white around the handle of his gunblade. Something could still go wrong — one misstep could still bring disaster. What if they ran out of aether to heal? What if the Warden tricked them, or pinned them down? 

Suddenly, with a final ground-shaking blast, the cavern went quiet. Thancred inhaled sharply, brow knitting as he looked to Y’shtola. Her expression was just as concerned as his. They exchanged a silent question and answer. For a long moment, no one spoke. Nothing happened. Then, with a rush of pulsing energy, all the light rippled and faded from the sky, cloaking the world in a starry black blanket. The Warrior of Light had triumphed.

Everyone gasped. Alisaie and Alphinaud beamed, giddy laughs bubbling up their throats. The others joined them. Thancred let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, then shoved his weapon back in its holster. Relief flooded him just as darkness had flooded the sky. 

“Look!” Alphinaud cried, pointing into the pit. “There they are!”

Thancred cast his eyes downward, and sure enough, the Warrior of Light emerged onto a platform at the bottom of the well. Even from this distance, he could tell they were limping slightly behind the other adventurers. Hurt, he realized with a pang of grief. But alive. Alive was the important part. Wounds could heal, hearts and minds could be mended, but a life was irreplaceable. 

As the Warrior hobbled up the path to rejoin the Scions, they waved and flashed a happy grin, despite their trembling legs and pain-glassed eyes. Even as a new worry bloomed in his chest, Thancred couldn’t help but smile back.

[fals3nd]

creelisel 'creel' carlbrun

raised with her younger brother hagen by her unfeeling aunt after being orphaned, creel was one day sent up to the local dragon in an effort to catch the attention of a knight. it wasn't creel's idea, who had no interest in knights or anything like that, but if a knight was interested in her and wanted to marry her after saving her from a dragon - as is customary - the family would be pulled up out of poverty, so she did as she was told and trudged on up the side of a mountain

there she met the less than fearsome dragon theoradus, who had absolutely no interest in a damsel or fighting a knight. he offered creel something from his horde to just go away and take any incoming knights with her. creel had assumed that would mean gold, maybe a nice big ruby, only to discover that theoradus' horde was composed entirely of shoes. she picked a soft pair of blue leather slippers that seemed to take the dragon off-guard, but he let her leave with the promise to leave him be.

rather than heading home, creel decided to take her new dragon slippers and head to the king's seat. she had to convince the knight who had come to save her to just go - which hadn't been very difficult - and then set on her merry way. she had always had dreams of being a dressmaker in a fine city and was now determined to make these a reality.

on her way to the city, she was waylaid by bandits. her rescue came in the form of the golden dragon shardas, who had come to save her for reasons unknown to creel. the two of them returned to shardas' lair and became friends, with creel taking inspiration from shardas' horde of beautiful stained glass for dress designs and embroidery. creel spent some time with shardas while she created several designs and samples to bring with her into king's seat to show the dressmakers there in an attempt to find an apprenticeship. after about a month she headed into the city with the promise to come see shardas with any news.

the city devolved rather quickly into a mess. creel almost stepped on the dog of a princess amalia the first day - a visiting princess from another country meant to wed the oldest prince - and the princess took an immediate interest in the shoes creel wore. creel's designs caught the eye of a dressmaker there, who takes creel and several other young women in as apprentices. some become friends, but creel's skill and unique work gained her a fast enemy in another apprentice, larkin.

larkin stole the dragon slippers and spirited them away to the princess amalia on the evening of the merchant's ball, which creel of course attended - even with a heavy heart at the missing slippers. little did creel know that the slipper she had been wearing had been created from the hide of velika, the queen of dragons, and that the wearer could command all and any dragons. the princess amalia used them to command shardas first, and forced him into attacking king's seat, as her true mission had been all along to take over the kingdom in one way or another.

creel rushed back to shardas' lair and found his beloved stained glass shattered. there they found another dragon, feniul, who had been saved by shardas from amalia's control by way of a magic collar. shardas had been able to leave instructions to make more, which creel and her friends immediately set to work forging. it was difficult work, with feniul luring dragons from their attacks back to shardas' lair for creel and her friends to collar them and break their curse.

this all came to a head with a great battle between creel and the freed dragons against amalia and her controlled ones. the battle only ended when velika, queen of the dragons who had been kept imprisoned, broke free and dragged amalia and the dragon slippers into the boiling sea. shardas dove after them to save velika, his beloved, and both survived - albeit injured. many dragons perished and those that lived found it best to go into obscurity to remain safe.

creel returned to king's seat a hero, and opened a dress shop of her own. it was offered to her by the king that she could marry the eldest prince and become a princess, but creel turned down that offer, as she still had little interest in knights and titles. she still spoke to shardas, as one of the few humans with trusted by the dragons and with knowledge of where to find them. she oversaw a memorial for the fallen dragons, including a museum for the horde of theoradus, who had fallen in battle.

[genshinimpactlife]

Could you write headcanons of the infantile woman running towards of a 7' tall athletic woman for a hug. Her, Zhongli and Yanfei talk somewhere more private, she talked to the woman in their language and then thanked them for showing Alara kindness after she was mistreaten. They had seperated after a horde of bandits attacked them, and clues about her whereabouts led her here. If questioned about the language and art she tells them that they are both from Khaenri'ah. Zhongli felt like she wasn't entirely honest with them, her eyes were yellowish gold and had a subtle glow that did flicker as if she is trying to supress the lifeforce they actually contain. She gifted them each a exotic teaset (lol think of turkish) she summoned from a pocket realm of a gem on her elaborate armguard as a thanks. She then hastily made a leave with Alara.

In the next morning two naked and mutilated milleliths corpses were found, there were no witnesses to the crime but these two milleliths happen to be the ones who arrested Alara. They looked like someone punched their hearts out, there were no elemental traces, their spear heads were completely shattered.

Zhongli and the strange woman part 3

Since the woman kept drawing Zhongli, Yanfei took her out in public to meet up with him. The woman kept looking at Zhongli but didn't do much else.

However, nearing the end of the visit, she suddenly stood up and took off running. She ran straight into a very tall woman, hugging her and speaking in a language none of them knew.

Yanfei and Zhongli reacted quickly and were only a few feet behind the woman. Once they saw she knew the woman she hugged, they relaxed.

They went back to Madam Ping's house to speak for some privacy, and that's when the tall woman started to explain what had happened.

The woman, whose name was Alara, had been separated from her family, and after some investigating, she was finally found with Yanfei and Zhongli.

Neither of them had ever seen people like them before, and after some questioning, the woman eventually told them they were from Khaenri'ah. Except too many things didn't add up

The woman avoided talking about certain things and seemed to hide secrets from Yanfei and Zhongli.

Not to mention her unique eyes that seemed to hold energy back that even Zhongli was curious about.

Of course, both Yanfei and Zhongli graciously accepted the tea set gift. It was another set that Zhongli could add to his collection.

The way she gave them the tea set surprised them, as she seemed to summon it from thin air using her armguard. There were so many secrets and surprises to this woman that Zhongli was starting to feel on edge.

Zhongli wanted to keep casually questioning the woman, but as soon as thanks were said, she seemed to be rushing to leave.

Before they could walk out the door, however, Alara ran over to Zhongli and hugged him, muttering something he didn't understand. He could only assume it was a thank you in her language.

Zhongli and Yanfei thought that would be the end, but they were both wrong.

The following day Yanfei came running over to Zhongli's, informing him of what happened.

The two milleliths that had taken Alara had been found dead, their hearts missing as if they had been punched out. It was assumed that some elemental power was used, but Yanfei claimed no elemental traces were left behind.

The problem was the two of them had a suspect, and they were obligated to tell the Millelith about what happened.

This ask just keeps getting more interesting. I hope you enjoy!

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[empireofstarsandsmoke]

Final Fantasy XVI Review

So I finally finished Final Fantasy 16. And it was amazing. It took me about 81 hours to beat the game. I did all the side missions and hunts. I love the combat and the different eikonic abilities. The graphics and God the story was amazing. This game should have been nominated for game of the year (in my opinion). I even played the Echos of the Fallen dlc before beating the game. I would recommend this game to everyone. Its so good. Like if I could forget this game to experience it for the first time again I would do it. Idk of the demo is still out but if you are on the fence on this game I would suggest checking out the demo. Below will be my thoughts (mostly me ranting about different things lol) and it will mention some spoilers for those who have not played/ finished the game.

I literally saved the recording of the entire ending. OMG I know the ending is kind of ambiguous but I did not think Clive was going to die. (I know he might be alive but with the curse). I cried at the end. JOSHUA. (*in Clive's voice)  I thought Jill was going to be killed by Barnabas or Ultima lol. And the beginning like wow. Poor Joshua. My mouth was open in shock when he saw his dad get beheaded. Then the whole Pheniox and Ifrit fight was *chef's kiss*. I loved the characters so much too. CID oh my sweet sexy Cid. His voice and character were so good. "I'm here to even the odds. Any objections". And Gav oh poor Gav in the end he was so happy that Edda's baby was born but he had lost a friend. I was so happy to see Sir Wade (I thought he died too). And Dion and Terrence. I loved seeing Dion fight with his spear. Like when he threw it at Oliver (I don't support child abuse) or him fighting the Akashic in Walood. And the little medicine girl was so cute. For some reason, I thought she was going to have a bigger role in the story like be Metia or something. (I guess she did help Dion ...) I also wish we saw more Garuda. I think Garuda looked so good. (All the eikons looked good the graphics are amazing and I played on performance mode). Also, Bahamut was huge. RIP Dion who never got to see the purple Wyvern Tailflower again.😢😭

Oh and the eikonic abilities. I think my most used was Ramuh (yes for Cid) but it looked cool and i feel like the Judgment Bolt ability was strong. At first, I stuck with the Pheniox, Garuda, and Ramuh. I tried all abilities and in the end, I stuck with Phoenix, I liked that you could zip up to flying enemies, Odin, the Zantetsuken ability could wipe out a horde of weaker enemies, and Ramuh, I liked targeting groups of enemies. I ended the game with Flames of Rebirth, Aerial Blast, Impulse, Dancing Steel, Thunderstorm, and Judgement Bolt.

Like I said above I did all side missions and hunts. I hated the turtle enemies. They sucked. Some of the side missions were really good. I did not expect Theo to die. Or that one mission where you help those bandits (I think on the way to Boklad)  I wish there was a follow up to that mission where you confront the bandits. My favorite ones were probably fighting to save Eastpool with the guardians of the flame and the bearers and helping out the dame in Northreach.

I know this is just me ranting but if you want to talk about ffxvi and the dlc feel free to reach out. Thank you for reading. 😊

[traditional-with-a-twist]

xxi. Beauty and Her Beast

<<Previous || first arc || AO3 || Next>>

A prince rarely passes a moment alone.

At his breakfast table, Izana entertained a council of lords from minor holdings, lately arrived in advance of the state ceremony.

Over morning tea, he received a report of Sereg Knight Base’s revised defense strategy.

He took lunch at his desk, where he authorized expenditures from the royal treasury in relief of those subjects facing failed harvests, from ruined fields or military requisitions, as the year deepened into summer.

That afternoon, he met personally with the committee appointed for the decoration of Clarinese knights and soldiers who had demonstrated exemplary courage in battle. 

By the time they concluded their discussion of selections for the minor stars and ribbons, he had fallen behind schedule. He dismissed the committee with a promise to affix his signature to the proclamation of the awards first thing in the morning.

Then he summoned the royal tailor to reschedule his fitting for a new ceremonial dress.

The man wore away a further quarter of an hour in protests and appeals to the privileges of artistry. 

In the end, Lord Haruka was made to deliver his daily briefing over the sounds of clacking pins, muttered measurements, and whispered orders to ‘please incline your head to the left, your highness--just there.’

Dinner was forgotten.

...

The room was crowded, for Izana was now attended at all times, within and without whichever space he occupied, by a specially appointed trio of armed guards, who rotated regularly and rarely spoke.

In addition, pages and clerks came and went continuously, carrying in notices, memos, and appeals, bearing away stamps, signatures, and courteous refusals.

The maids were engaged in outfitting the antechamber of Izana’s office for the still more distinguished visitors he expected the following day.

A server edged in with a tray of wine and glass, the prince’s typical evening refreshment. He was chased away from the usual side table by the tailor’s assistants, quailed at the battery of papers arrayed on the desk, and settled his burden at last on a low bookshelf.

...

As the sun sank into retirement, a bevy of maids arrived to light the tapers, but Izana stayed them with a gesture. “Not tonight, thank you.”

The tailor, who had been increasingly despairing of the lighting conditions in any case, took this as his signal of departure.

Silk, velvet, and jewels rolled, folded, and nestled into their resting places. The room gradually emptied.

Haruka alone persevered, struggling on in the deepening dusk. Izana heard the last of the day’s briefing by starlight.

...

Wine in hand, gaze fixed thoughtfully on the tree line, he stirred only when the lord shut his portfolio with a snap.

“My compliments, Lord Haruka, that was admirably done.”

“Your highness,” the other replied, choosing not to question whether the prince referred to the content of his report or the delivery of it.

...

“Guards,” Izana addressed himself to the two currently within earshot, “kindly accompany Lord Haruka as he returns to his quarters.”

The knights hid their confusion better than Lord Haruka did. “Your highness?” he asked in surprise.

With a glimmer of a smile, the prince answered, “These are dark and dangerous days, my lord. A man with your history of service to Clarines, to say nothing of the promise of future contributions, ought not take any risks.”

As they filed out, he added quietly, “Shut the door.”

...

Izana drank his wine. He wore no coat, as he had not replaced it since the fitting; a silver scabbard gleamed at his hip.

Setting down the empty cup, he strolled to the vast glass doors that opened onto the balcony.

Noiseless as a cat, he let himself out into the night air.

...

For the first time since the tinkle of the maid’s bell that morning, it was quiet.

There were no servants, soldiers, tailors, attendants, lords, or plaintiffs. The air was still, the night soft. Shadows embraced everywhere but the patch of moonlight where Izana positioned himself.

His fair hair and white attire were silhouetted against the sparkling sky. Like a single white-barked tree in a dark wood, he stood, resplendent and solitary.

He was not, however, alone.

...

All that day, from the moment he emerged from his bedchamber, Izana had sensed a foreign presence.

The breath of silent lungs mingled with the conversation over the breakfast table. A fifth ear listened in during the Sereg captain’s report. A shadow, quick and restless, flitted across his desk as he signed papers. Something stirred the air of the committee room as if an invisible form lingered in the corners.

At the fitting, all the while as he bent an elbow and straightened a knee, as the tailor adjusted the line of his cuff here and let out a hem there, Izana had felt the glare of burning eyes, marking his every movement.

...

Just out of sight, too quiet to mark yet too hostile to ignore, the presence had dogged his every step.

It searched in vain for an opening, a lapse in the protective net that surrounded the prince, a gap in the machinery of the Clarinese administrative state.

There was no sign of him now, and yet a quest of such unwavering intent could not have faltered on the brink of realizing victory.

...

Into the darkness, Izana spoke: “Was it not your intention to seek an audience?”

...

He might have blinked.

One moment, nothing but blank tiles accompanied him on the balcony. The next, a man dressed in black and green crouched there.

It could have been a posture of respect, deference, even subservience, with his knee bent and his head down -- but he had neglected to lower his eyes.

Gold like an animal’s, they regarded Izana with a blood-chilling stillness--the fixed gaze of a predator trained to kill, when violence has lost its thrill and ceased to excite anything but steady resolve and certain success.

...

Izana received him without a flicker of surprise. He spread his hands, palms upturned and empty. “Let us not stand on ceremony,” he suggested, “as you are neither my subject nor my employee.”

Obi rose. His left hand hung loose and relaxed at his side.

In his right hand, he carried a naked sword.

...

Once, not long ago, in a place not far from here, Obi had met a prince, not unlike this one, with a sword in hand. On that occasion, they had crossed wood, not steel, pouring their whole hearts into a match decided by toy weapons.

This time, it was different.

Obi knew better than to take on a snake with a stick.

...

Izana surveyed his visitor, noting the camouflaged clothing that had concealed Obi for so long from general detection, the loose layers that confused the eye from tracking his movement, the easy grace with which he wielded the unfamiliar weapon one-handed.

The man was poured in the mould of an assassin, a trained killer, loose on the castle grounds.

Izana knew enough about Obi to recognize that the sword represented a message, not a threat, however. If Obi had intended a mortal encounter, he would have equipped himself with the knives that cut like the wind, not a long and cumbersome blade. 

If he had come to kill, he would have struck before he had let himself be seen.

As if bored, Izana let his gaze drift. Relaxing his weight into a lopsided stance, he turned over his left hand and examined the nails.

His luxurious voice clipped with impatience, he prodded, “What is it that you want?”

...

Obi’s eyes narrowed as he watched the snake weave its mesmerizing dance. Now it seemed to retreat, even sleep--but all the time, it kept its long line of muscle coiled, ready to strike.

At any moment, Izana might raise his voice for a guard, or simply draw his own sword and show himself its master.

Obi couldn’t afford to rush, couldn’t risk dawdling. When he spoke, he confined himself to a single sentence, a dozen words he had been practicing since the night before:

“Prince Izana, I challenge you for the hand of the lady Shirayuki.”

So saying, he raised the sword and pointed it at Izana’s heart.

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Please please give us part 5 of A Touch of Magic. I beg of you.

Oh wow thanks for the request. I’d honestly thought that people didn't really like this series anymore

----

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

A Touch of Magic, Part 5

Gavin seemed to have a talent for always winding up in the most precarious situations possible.

There he sat, eyes frightened, tied to a tree, with an entire horde of bandits conducting their camp activities around him.

Lysander lowered his hand telescope, and sighed. He was going to have to give that boy some self-defense lessons, when this was all over.

He turned to his knights, the three brave and valiant people he’d called in for backup. And also their squire, Ricker.

“There’s far too many bandits for us to fight our way through,” one knight said.

“Plus, a brawl could end with Gavin getting hurt,” Lysander added. “No, I think we’ll need to go with a softer approach. Ricker, remove all royal symbols from my clothing.”

---

“Goodness,” Lysander said, walking up to the bandits’ camp. “Is that the enchanted child?”

Gavin’s eyes found his, and flooded with relief. The sight filled Lysander with a peculiar warm glow.

“Who’s askin’?” a bandit – presumably the leader – said. She lugged a battle ax over her shoulder.

“Just a nobleman’s son, looking to buy,” Lysander said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

He’d hoped to just pay for Gavin and leave, but the leader’s scowl deepened.

“What do you take us for?” she said. “We ain’t slavers.”

Lysander titled his head. “So then why did you kidnap him?”

She grinned, showing some missing teeth. “They say the blood of a faery maiden makes for a top-rank healing potion. It’s a shame he’s a man, but we figure it’ll still be useful to keep him on tap.”

Because that’s so much better than selling him, Lysander thought.

“I think you misunderstand,” he said. “Gavin isn’t an actual faery, he’s – ��

“I suggest you make your leave, noble boy,” the leader said. “You clearly have no business here.”

The other bandits began to slowly rise, weapons in hand. 

Lysander took a wary step back.

“Wait!” Gavin piped up.

Everyone paused, and turned to look at him.

“You said maidens. Those are unmarried women.” His gaze raced back and forth like a jackrabbit. “But I’m, um, I’m married. Lysander’s my husband.”

“What?” the leader said.

What? Lysander thought.

“So my blood’s no good to anyone,” Gavin went on. “You might as well let me go.”

“I never saw no wedding ring,” one of the bandits said.

“Oh, uh. I have it right here.” Lysander pulled out the ring he’d been planning to propose with, once they’d reached the palace. “We came into the hills to get it properly varnished.”

The leader stepped forward to examine it. Lysander felt himself begin to sweat.

“Nah, I still don’t believe it,” she said.

Lysander released a breath. Well, it had been worth a shot. Maybe if he called his knights quickly enough, he could –

“Kiss him.”

Lysander jerked his gaze over. “Excuse me?”

“I know you lordly types. Would never dare to even mingle with us common folk. But if he’s really your husband, then you must’ve kissed him plenty by now.”

 Lysander swallowed. Maybe it wasn’t too late to run.

He glanced over at his fiancé, and their eyes locked. Gavin didn’t look happy. Far from it. But he still gave a slight, barely perceptible nod.

Oh. Okay then.

Lysander walked over on stiff legs, and crouched down in front of Gavin. Up close, he noticed a bruise starting to form on the other boy’s face, likely where he’d been slapped.

Lysander’s original plan had been to complete the rescue and never look back. But now, he was going to make sure that every single bandit in this forest was arrested.

Awkwardly, he leaned forward. He tried to ignore the pleasant way that Gavin smelled of the forest – soil and camp smoke and pine trees.

He took in a breath, and released it. And then, taking Gavin’s head gently in his hands, he kissed him.

And the world burst into light and sunflowers all around him.

When it was done, it was a struggle to find his voice again. “Do you believe me now?”

He still held Gavin’s face in his hands. He couldn’t take his gaze off Gavin’s earthen brown eyes, nor the slight blush beginning to form.

“Sure, noble boy,” the leader said. “I’ll let you buy your husband back.”

Lysander gave a humourless chuckle. “How generous.”

He took out his knife, and began sawing through the ropes attaching Gavin to the tree. When he was finished, he paused, considering the best way to cut the additional ropes around Gavin’s wrists and ankles.

“Hey boss,” one of the bandits said. “Isn’t that the royal insignia on the guy’s boots?”

Lysander froze.

“Really?” the leader said. He heard her step towards him. “Now that’s a mighty useful hostage.”

God damn it Ricker.

Lysander glanced over his shoulder, seeing the bandits slowly encircle.

“Sorry about this,” he whispered.

Gavin’s brows twisted in confusion. “What?”

Lysander seized him, threw him over his shoulder, and ran.

Part 6

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Taglist:

@coolninjavoid , @itsleighlovelove , @rose-0f-winter , @dmitrinfinite , @nexfox-art , @aethernorwood

[human-do-a-worm]

Ramblings of an Old Soldier Part 3/3

Sorry about the wait. The second dose of COVID vaccine drains you a lot more than the first dose. Anyways here’s part 3, part 1 and part 2 can be found here.

Admiral Sturm sat on the park bench as he always did. Sipping on his coffee and reading the latest news from his datapad. Once again, the Unkall boy approached him and sat beside him on the bench. He noticed that the aging Terran was wearing a strange uniform, with the image of a furred beast embroidered on the chest and upper right arm.

“Good afternoon Mr. Sturm.” “Ah, hello there son. Back for story time again?” “Yes sir. I was wondering what happened after the summit. Almost all traces of you vanished from records 8 cycles ago, and the only mentions of you after that were how the Terran Navy wanted you back.”

“Well, as I said the other day, I became a merc. My crew and I were the best. We took contracts from the Segmentum Norrus, all the way down to the Serectan Void. We didn’t work like most mercenary groups. We sought out our clients, and saw a lot of business. Everything from running escort duty on supply runs to desperate worlds, to taking down entire groups of bandits and pirates. Wherever we went, outlaws and tyrants alike feared the sight of The Wolf’s Den.”

“The Wolf’s Den? I think we heard about a group of people using that ship last cycle in our Galactic History class. Something about taking part in the Gingral war, only a few cycles ago.” “Ah yes, the Gingral war. Some of the bloodiest fighting I’ve ever seen. That was the last contract my crew and I took. We started off in a small role; mostly just escorting supply freighters to the border colonies since most of the supply lines had been cut and the colonists were starving. Our last supply run had been going well, until 6 light cruisers decloaked and opened fire. We did the best we could, but the supply freighter carrying food and civilians was destroyed in only a few minutes.”

“We could have escaped after that. Made a jump to the nearest Unkall station and gotten reinforcements, but My crew and I all knew what had to be done. We knew that the Gingral had to pay. They may have outnumbered us 6 to 1, and they may have had us outgunned, but they didn’t account for us having a mark 7 jump core. We warped around behind them and took down 2 of the light cruisers rather easily, but then we took a hit. The jump core cut out, and we were relying only on engine power.”

“But The Wolf’s Den must have survived somehow. The history logs said that it served through the entirety of the Gingral War.”

“That’s almost right. We knew that we wouldn’t be able to keep her together much longer, so we did what all Terrans do in situations like this. We became unpredictable. We gave all power to weapons and blasted the furthest ship from us, then mustered to the airlocks. We put on EVA gear and as soon as we were close enough to the next ship, we boarded.” “Wasn’t ship boarding added to the prohibited activities of War after the Terran war?” “It was, but targeting civilians has always been among the prohibited activities of War, so we were still committing a lesser infraction. We blasted open the port hangar with a plasma charge, and cleared the first room. Then we cleared the rest of the ship up to the bridge and took out the last remaining light cruiser. Changed the comms channels to the ones we had on The Wolf’s Den, then modified the IFF tag accordingly. When we arrived at the Unkall station we had just left, they demanded an explanation, so we told them what happened.” “And you weren't reprimanded?”

“Oh, we were. There was even a small tribunal held to determine if we could still fight. That’s when the call came in. Rakthis had been attacked, with only a handful of survivors. I immediately got up and started heading to my ship. The Unkall admiral demanded to know where I was going. After calmly telling him that there was now a full scale war, we had work to do. I went to the hangar and got the light cruiser repaired and ready for combat, but not before renaming it. The Wolf’s Den was never destroyed, it just became another ship.”

“What happened next?” the Unkall boy asked. “Weren’t the forces around Rakthis said to be uncounted?”

“They were, that’s why we didn’t go to Rakthis. We went to Waalon instead. Then to Rek’lon, and finally to Scrurros. Everywhere we went, we pushed back the Gingral horde. My first mate, Sarah Callingham, had family on the outer colonies back in the Vrumoid war. Saw most of them killed in front of her when their shuttle was shot down leaving atmosphere on Vrall VII. Scrurros was a tough nut to crack, and she had more crafty ideas than I did. We landed The Wolf’s Den on the uninhabited side of the planet, then bought a grav truck from one of the farmers. It was hard to weld the armor plates on it at the right angle, but mounting the lasguns and mortar was rather simple. I stood in the back, manning two of the lasguns and the mortar while she and two other soldiers were up front in the cab. We got almost to the planetary capital before we faced any resistance.”

“But the history logs said that Scrurros didn’t fall until the later end of the war.” “That’s right. We couldn’t take the planet as easily as we’d taken the others. When the first mortar hit the shield on the planetary governance center, we knew we were in for a fight. We got the truck away with only a few shots on the armor, but we were pursued by the planetary militia. One of the armored gun trucks fired their heavy las gun and took out the rear grav drive. With the back end of the truck along the ground, our speed tanked to a crawl. I was able to keep the militia back for a while by pinning them down with the lasguns, but then another shot hit us, dead center mass.”

“How bad was it? Were you alright?”

“I made it out with only a few scratches, scrapes, and bruises, but Sarah and the others up front weren't so lucky. The shot penetrated the cab and blew up at the steering linkage. Only Sarah, myself, and the one crewman in the back with me made it out of that. We ducked into a nearby building for cover, only to find that it was a school. Not wanting to put the civilians in danger, we lightly dressed Sarah’s wounds and went on into the forest surrounding the city. We came to a cave at the foot of a mountain, and made camp inside.” “Who was the other crewman that was with you? I notice that you haven’t said his name yet.”

“His name was Richard Grumman. He was the newest addition to The Wolfpack, joining us less than a cycle ago. We hadn’t had much time to get to know each other. The Militia found us in the first week, and he was shot to death on the night they raided the cave. Sarah and I managed to get away, but we were far from being safe. The next night we got a transmission from The Wolf’s Den; They had been found, and were wondering what to do. Sarah and I were at least four days away from the ship, so I made the call and told them to leave while they had the chance, to keep fighting and never forget about us.” “So you willingly stranded yourself and an injured crewmate on a hostile planet just to save your crewmates? The stories about the Terrans must be true.” “You’ll learn that those stories don’t even tell half the story if you stick on a Terran ship for even half a cycle. Anyways, there we were, just me and Sarah on Scrurros. I treated her wounds the best I could, but she wasn’t getting much better. Eventually she died, less than half a cycle into our time on that world. I retired with her body to the farmer who sold us the truck, and paid him to let me bury Sarah on his property. Much like with the freighter, the Gingral would pay. I took stock of what I had. Two lasguns, three fragmentation grenades, an energy grenade, and a plasma charge. Not nearly enough to take on the forces of the planet, but maybe enough to make it possible.”

“So what did you do? The Gingral don’t just let prisoners get away. Especially not in the middle of a war.” “Well, I couldn't just storm the Planetary Governance Center. That would accomplish nothing but my own death. Instead I went for something better. Three grids away from the Governance Center was the Defense Center. The plan was simple. Get inside, break as much stuff as I could, and hope that was enough to take down their defenses. It took me ten days to reach the capital again, and another three to figure out how to get inside. Turns out the Gringal didn’t make their roof as secure as they should have. I opened up the ventilation system and got inside. From there it was a short trip to the bunker exterior.”

“Aren’t Gingral bunkers some of the hardest to break open in the entire galaxy? How did you get inside?” “Simple; I didn’t break in; I snuck in. I kicked out the vent and got inside the bunker, then closed and locked the door behind me and smashed the controls. There were only technicians and a few soldiers inside, who were easy enough to dispatch. The harder part was accessing the communications room. Aside from the door of the bunker itself, the communications room was the most secure place in the facility. The door was half a meter thick, and barred at six points. That would prove to be a great challenge, so I left it for later. I quickly found the controls to the weapons system, and took it down. The planet was now mostly defenseless against ships in orbit and low atmosphere.”

“So you took down the guns, but how did you get in?”

“The door was too hard to get through, so I made my own instead. I went above the room and opened up the three fragmentation grenades. Terrna frag grenades use a pressure sensitive explosive to detonate, so I poured it out above the room, then placed the plasma charge on top of it. I ducked out of the room and waited for the explosion. When that charge went off, it was as if the whole planet shook. When I went in to check on the hole, the charge had only just broken through the floor. It took hours for me to get the hole wide enough for me to wriggle inside, but it was worth it. I contacted the Unkall fleet, and they were there within the week. The planet fell and I was pulled from the bunker before the food and water stores were even dented.”

“So that’s why taking Scrurros was so easy for the fleet. There wasn’t as much resistance as the planet originally had. And you were the one to take it down?”

“That’s right. After the war, I was broken. My knees were all but useless for fighting, and I could barely stand without swaying. The Unkall empire never forgot what my crew and I did. We were paid many times more than what was written in our contract, and they even got me a home right here on Unkall Prime. Now I sit here, enjoying retirement in my old age. Though the Terran lifespan is almost 50 cycles, we’re usually out of our working years after only 30 cycles. Our bodies are too old and weak to do most of the hard tasks that we normally would.”

“So what do you do now? Surely after a life like yours you want to do something just as exciting after you’re done working.”

“I mostly just read now. When you spend your life as a soldier, you miss out on so much. I never settled down and had kids, and my time for that is even drawing to a close. I did take up a few hobbies here and there, but nothing really stuck. I still work part time for the Unkall empire, training their soldiers in virtual reality simulations is about all I can do, but I’ve given the Unkall the strength to protect their planets, and given their generals and admirals the knowledge not to go on any missions they will regret. I’m happy with the contributions I’ve made in my life, and if I had the chance, I’d do it all over again. By the way, I never did catch your name.”

“My name is Ruthal Nerzak, and I’m slotted to be a soldier in the Unkall Defense Force.”

“Well Ruthal, I hope we will meet again someday.”

With that, Ruthal stopped recording and went home, finishing his final report.

A few days later, Ukall prime came under attack. A colonial independence group made numerous strikes around the city, and Ruthal had been caught outside on his way home from class. He tried to run away, but was chased by one of the insurgents down an alleyway, when suddenly two lasgun shots rang out. Ruthal though he was dead, but he slowly opened his four eyes and saw that the terrorist was dead on the ground in front of him. Looking up, he was me with a familiar face

“Thank you Mr. Sturm, I thought I was surely dead.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we’re seven grids away from the nearest shelter, and there’s enemies all around us. You said you wanted to be a soldier, well your training just started early.”

Sturm handed Ruthal the lasgun from the dead insurgent, and after showing him how to fire and teaching him how to make sure it doesn’t overheat, he led the Unkall boy out of the alley and down the street. Two blocks later, Sturm pulled the Unkall boy into an alley.

“Alright son, listen up. There’s about fifty armed and angry people between us and shelter. Our espace routes have been mostly cut off, so I need you to listen to me and listen well. When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can. We should be able to get past most of them by taking the alleys across the street. I picked up some kit off one of these guys. The flashbang should buy us enough time to cross the street, but I’ll have to think of something after we get to our next crossing.”

Sturm threw the flashbang far into the crowd of terrorists, blinding a dozen of them and allowing them to cross the street. After seeing how many insurgents were at their crossing point, Sturm and Ruthal entered a tall residence building across from a big shootout between the insurgent and Unkall forces.

“Alright, we don’t stand a chance of crossing that. Here’s the plan. We’ll get up high, and then open fire on them. If nothing else, we’ll draw their attention away from the defense forces and allow them to break through.”

“I can’t. They’re people, just like us.” “Look around you kid. There’s men, women, and children all gunned down by these guys. I’m not sure what that makes them in Unkall society, but to us Terrans, they’re no longer people; they’re monsters. As a soldier, our job is to get rid of the monsters, so that everyone can sleep soundly at night knowing they’re safe. Taking a life isn’t something one does lightly, but it’s still something that has to be done. It’s better that we take them out, because if we don’t, who knows how many more people they’ll kill. We don’t do this because we like killing, we do this because we love the people we protect, and we’d give anything to keep them safe.”

“But I don’t want to hurt them.”

“I understand. I’m not sure if the Unkall have a saying like this, but Terrans sure do. You have a big heart. You want to keep people safe, not put them in the ground. But sometimes the best way to keep people safe is to put bad people in the ground. We’re between a rock and a hard place. If we sit here and do nothing, they will continue to hold this street, but if we can take them down, even just one or two of them, we can make them fight on two sides, which is the easiest way to break through an enemy line. I recognize a few of the soldiers I can see from up here. I trained them myself. They’ll realize what’s going on and they’ll do the heavy lifting; we just need to give them a helping hand. So, are you ready?”

The young Unkall nodded, then Sturm and Ruthal braced their lasguns on the windowsill, and opened fire on the street below. As Sturm said, the insurgents shifted their position, attempting to defend against incoming fire from two directions. As the Unkall defense forces broke the lines, a single shot came from the street and hit Sturm in the neck

Bleeding badly, Sturm stumbled back, Ruthall catching him in his arms. As he was losing his grasp on consciousness, Sturm held Ruthalls hand

“Never forget what happened here. Never forget the atrocities you saw with your own eyes, and never be afraid to rise up against the monsters who make things like this happen.”

With that, Sturm closed his eyes. Unkall security forces soon burst into the room, seeing the state of the old Terran, they gave him the best aid they could, and sent him off to the hospital, with Ruthall at his side.

After a lengthy surgery and two pints of blood, Sturm woke up in his hospital room, Ruthall asleep on his lap. Colonel Rengar, a soldier in the Unkall defense forces entered the room.

“So Admiral, I see your retirement is going well.”

“Can the crap Colonel. How many did we lose?”

“Casualties are still being counted, but even one is too many.”

“And what about the boy, Ruthall. Why is he still here?"

"His family were among those killed in the attack. We haven’t told him yet, just that we’re still looking for them.”

“So what will happen to him?”

“We don’t know. He doesn’t have any living family, and in our culture friend’s do not step in for situations like these. He will likely be left to become an adoptee for some family here, but after this, I’m not sure who would adopt him.”

“I will.”

“What? You can’t be serious. The looks he would get, especially here in the capital. I’m not sure if he can take it.”

“He knows my story. He knows that I take care of the ones I call family. He didn’t hesitate to pick up a rifle and follow me through the streets today, and he only barely hesitated to fight beside me. He’ll make a fine soldier, and he’ll make a damn good son. Get me the documents dammit.”

“Very well.”

Ruthall woke up, and was told about what happened. He didn’t take his family dying too well, but was glad that he would not be alone. The next day that school was in session, Admiral Sturm put on his old Terran uniform, and walked his son into class. It was not easy adjusting to caring for a young Unkall child, but it was a change that Sturm was happy to make. He had known what it was like to be alone, and now he could keep Ruthall from knowing that pain.

The End

Let me know if you guys want a follow up series about Sturm and Ruthall on Unkall Prime, and how they live their lives together.

[raven-moon33]

@dorkshadows @earl-of-221b @melonmass @antidotefortheawkward-art @videogamelover99 (I’m tagging a bunch of people in case Tumblr eats my post again.)

Hello everyone! Happy #jttwfestival2020! I’m so excited to be participating in this event, and am so thrilled at all the new content we’re already getting. Here’s my fill for the prompt Day 3: Role Switch! 

I will be cross-posting this on AO3 as well, so feel free to leave a kudos or comment there if you happen to swing by.

Basically, Golden Cicada/Sanzang is the super powerful protector of the group while the other four are severely weakened from their various positions before the journey started and can’t protect themselves all that well on the road.

Some notes on this AU thingum:

- Golden Cicada is asked by Guanyin to help with the journey. He agrees and takes the name Sanzang as his human alias and to hide his true identity from demons who might cause them trouble. (He’s referred to as both Sanzang and Golden Cicada in the story, so let me know if that gets to be too confusing.)

- He wears two golden bracelets that limit his powers so that he can stay on the mortal plane in a semi-human form for as long as the journey will take, although the strain of having his powers limited in such a way is sometimes quite tiring and even painful. (He’s still more than powerful enough to protect the group however, so don’t y’all worry).

- Wukong, Bajie, Wujing, and Bailong are all well aware of who their protector is, but they’re not aware of the whole bracelet/limited powers situation. (At least, as far as Sanzang knows).

Anyways, now that we’re done with all that, on with the prompt fill! I hope you all enjoy! :)

Sanzang was deeply regretting his decision to accompany the pilgrims on their journey. Although the four other members of their group were each powerful in their own ways (especially the monkey, good heavens) they still needed him to guard their journey onwards. 

In order for the four celestials-turned-demons to redeem themselves and potentially achieve enlightenment, it was vital they had a guardian overseeing their journey, ensuring they remained on the righteous path, and protecting them from the many dangers their road took them towards.

Perhaps if they were taking this journey earlier- 

before Bailong was weakened by decades cut off from the sea- 

before Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing lost most of their celestial might from the years of being slowly corrupted from their own demonic behavior and the consumption of human flesh- 

before Sun Wukong was trapped under a mountain for five hundred years, once one of the most powerful creatures in existence, withering like a lotus flower locked away from the sun until he became a mere echo of his former self- 

perhaps then they would not have needed a protector from the hordes of demons and mortals who sought to end their journey before they could complete it for one reason or another. 

But they were not. This was now, and the things of the past could not be changed, only dealt with. So they continued on, however reluctant they might’ve been to do so.

Although the presence of a guardian for the pilgrims was clearly necessary, it most certainly didn’t need to be Golden Cicada himself. The only reason he volunteered to be the guardian of the scripture pilgrims at all was because Bodhisattva Guanyin herself asked it of him, and he never could find it in himself to say no to her. So he took the name Sanzang for his temporary human form and released Wukong from the mountain, beginning their journey west.

So now he was here, less than a year on the road with four demons who clearly didn’t want to be on this journey at all, trying desperately to prevent Wukong from killing. Again.

“Wukong! Stop!” He raised his hand to intercept the golden cudgel, only just stopping it from caving in the cowering bandit’s head. If Wukong was at his full power, the cudgel likely would’ve destroyed Sanzang’s hand (if not more) for the trouble, but as it was the hit left not much more than a stinging sensation reverberating up his arm, easily ignored. 

Wukong’s eyes blazed with frustration (whether from Sanzang’s interference or from his own inability to power through that interference as he once might have, Sanzang couldn’t be sure) but his mouth was still tilted in an easy grin and his posture remained casual.

“What is it, little bug? I was just going to give him a tap, a tap! I swear!”

Sanzang couldn’t quite hold back his scoff. “You and I both well know that a ‘tap’ from you is enough to kill an entire army, let alone a single man. I thought you agreed that you wouldn’t kill anymore humans, especially not while on this journey?” 

“If they can’t handle someone fighting back, then these bandits have no business trying to steal from people on the road in the first place.” Wukong’s grin became a little more feral when his eyes shifted to the bandit still cowering behind Sanzang. “Or is it alright that they’ve been going after traveling families and elderly folk?” His voice deepened a little into the demonic tone he only got when he was truly angry. “Children?”

“Of course it’s not alright.” Sanzang said with a soft sigh, his grip on the golden cudgel tightening a little to get Wukong’s eyes back on him. “And you know that’s not what I’m saying.” The silence between them grew into a large, tense thing, Wukong’s eyes blazing with the fire of his fury, singing with the memory of his days of havoc, and for a moment Sanzang wondered if they were going to fight once again, like they hadn’t since the very early days. 

Back then, Wukong was still so wound tight with frustration at the situation- being freed from the mountain only to be trapped on a journey he wanted no part of, Sanzang having to rescue him from demons so lesser Wukong once probably wouldn’t have even noticed them amongst his horde of monkeys and demons, not even being able to fly on his cloud to make the journey easier or shorter at all, weakened as he was by the weight of Five Finger Mountain- that he’d more often than not lash out at Sanzang over everything, physically and verbally slashing at him with every method available until he either tired himself out, they became distracted by something else, or they managed to reach an uneasy compromise built up of tense silence and avoided glances.

It got better with the addition of the others to their group, levying the tension and anger somewhat with the presence of others who likely better understood and who could commiserate with Wukong’s frustration, but still sometimes there would be an aborted swing of his staff, a grinding of the teeth as he seemed to resist the temptation to bite at Sanzang’s outstretched hand. 

But it was getting better, slow as the progress might be. Recently, Wukong even let Sanzang bandage some of his wounds after a particularly rough encounter with a mountain demon, the first time he’d accepted such help from anyone in the year they’d been traveling together. 

Sanzang was surprised by how deeply he hoped they wouldn’t slide back into those early days. 

It was not only because the constant war of wills had been exhausting, but because he genuinely hoped they could become something approaching friends before the end of their journey together. Sanzang had already become fond of the four demons he watched over, troublesome as they could be at times, but the other three took their cues from the Monkey King. So long as Wukong and Sanzang remained at odds, the others kept their distance from him, figuratively if not literally. (They did share a campfire more often than not, after all.) 

And besides that, physical altercations with Wukong were always draining, more than nearly anything else on their journey. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because Wukong was still just that powerful (weakened as he might be, it would still be suicide for most to challenge him) or if it was because Sanzang refused to use more than defensive tactics against him when they did fight (regardless of their personal issues, Wukong was still his charge, and he would never knowingly or willingly bring or allow harm to any under his protection), but whatever it was, fights with Wukong could leave him weakened enough to warrant a brief visit to Bodhisattva Guanyin to regain his strength, and he hated leaving the group even for handfuls of minutes, talented as they were at getting themselves into trouble even when he was there.

But luckily, Wukong didn’t seem to want a fight either. With a brief glance at the golden bands wrapped firmly around Sanzang’s wrists, the anger seemed to leech out of the monkey completely. (Not for the first time, Sanzang wondered if Wukong knew more about the bracelets than he was letting on, but now wasn’t the time to question him about it.) 

Wukong rolled his eyes and took a step back, tugging his staff out of Sanzang’s grasp. He twirled it until the golden cudgel rested across his shoulders, both arms hanging off it casually.

“Right right, ‘doing wrong unto those who have wronged will not undo their wrongs, only add to your own’, and all that. You need to get some new sayings, little bug, if even those of us who aren’t listening have them memorized.” He walked off before Sanzang could retort, disappearing through the trees and returning to the road the bandits attacked them on. Sighing, out of frustration or relief or maybe even both, Sanzang turned back to the bandit still frozen to the ground behind him. As soon as he saw Sanzang’s eyes on him, the bandit hurried into a kowtow, bowing over and over again as he muttered a shaky litany of ‘sorry’, over and over again, interspersed occasionally with ‘thank you’ and ‘please spare me’.

Abruptly feeling very tired, Sanzang knelt down in front of the bandit, placing a gentle hand on the back of his head as he bent down to stop the frantic movements. The bandit froze and fell quiet instantly, face nearly pressed against the dirt despite the feather-light touch Sanzang had on him. 

Sometimes, when he was feeling a little too tired or stressed or frustrated to completely hide the parts of himself the bands couldn’t quite suppress (or when he simply chose to stop hiding himself), everything around him could feel the heavy weight of his presence in the air. The insects in the trees would go silent, the plants in the forest would still their slow growth, and all mortal creatures would stop and tremble and hide in a desperate bid to avoid being seen by whatever now crouched among them, the entire world holding its breath as if waiting for the strike of lightning or the crash of an avalanche to swallow it whole. But, luckily for the bandit bowing beneath him, Golden Cicada was not cruel. 

“You have lived a hard life, Chenglei,” the bandit flinched when Golden Cicada used his name, but otherwise didn’t move or make a sound, “but you know in your heart that it does not justify your actions now.” Golden Cicada gentled his tone, feeling the loss and grief twisting the man’s heart, feeling the beginnings of a demon’s bitterness rooted there in the ashes of love and gentleness. 

(Loss wrought such devastation on a soul, and there was so much of it in the world; was there truly any wonder as to why so many demons wandered the world?) 

“You have lost much, but you know those you’ve lost would be ashamed to see what you have become without them. Do you truly seek to dishonor their memory?”

“No.” The man sobbed out, shaking as his tears stained the dirt beneath them.

“Then go,” Golden Cicada said, standing up and stepping back, “and do better. Live the way they would’ve wanted you to.” The bandit didn’t waste another moment, scrambling up from the dirt and escaping into the forest, running as far and as fast from the road (and from Golden Cicada) as he could. With a small wave of his fingers, a cicada sprung from a nearby leaf and buzzed hurriedly after the man. Golden Cicada had given the bandit a chance, a choice, and it was up to him what he did with it.

But whether he chose to turn from the dark path he walked or continued along it despite Golden Cicada’s interference, he would be sure to face the appropriate consequences; Golden Cicada’s messenger would make sure of that.

The bandit now long gone, Golden Cicada sat down in the shade of a large oak tree, relaxing into the familiar lotus position. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and he drew himself back into himself. The heavy presence of the air eased away until it was locked completely behind golden bands and a human facade once more. 

After a brief moment of silence in the newly lightened forest air, the insects began to cautiously chirp and chitter once again, birds hopping nervously onto new branches and singing soft tunes to one another, the trees groaning as they carefully continued their slow growth. 

Sanzang released his breath in a long sigh, eyeing the cuffs around his wrists. They were mostly unremarkable looking, plain and nondescript even with their golden appearance, but that rarely meant much when it came to celestial tools.  

They were given to him by Bodhisattva Guanyin back when he first agreed to help with the journey, and if it weren’t for the bracelets he wouldn’t be able to accompany the pilgrims at all, especially not for as long as the journey was likely to take. He recognized the necessity of wearing them, yet still he couldn’t help but loathe them at times. They locked away the majority of his powers, the majority of himself, shrinking him into something small and muted enough to exist on the mortal plane in a form he could pass off as human when he needed to, while still giving him enough power to help the pilgrims when they needed him.

The bracelets tethered him to the world in a way he hadn’t been bound for almost as long as he could remember, and although he could technically take them off whenever he desired, they still felt like chains trapping him, keeping him away from the sky and the freedom he’d enjoyed for an eternity (yet still for not long enough). 

The heaviness of his own body startled him at times, his bones filled with mortar and his blood as viscous as honey, and he thought often about how he could understand at least some of Wukong’s frustrations. To be a creature of the sky suddenly bound to the unforgiving grip of the earth was a unique kind of torment not easily likened to any other.

He could take off the bands whenever he wanted, free himself and stop feeling like he was too big for his own skin, form itching with the need to be drifting amongst the stars and being the stars and forming the stars and dying with the stars all at once, but he also couldn’t take them off. 

As Bodhisattva Guanyin warned him the single time he removed them, (back when a surprisingly powerful demon had his charges captured and was going to kill them, actually going to kill them, and Sanzang in his neutered form might not have been able to save them in time but Golden Cicada in his full glory most certainly could) the bracelets could only be removed and replaced a limited number of times. 

Rebinding his power weakened the bracelets significantly, powerful as they were otherwise, and eventually his own form would be too much for the bracelets to contain. If the bracelets broke before the journey was over, there was no telling what would become of the pilgrims left without the guardian and guide they needed, and he was determined to see this journey through to the end for them. 

(Come to think of it, Wukong hadn’t picked a fight with him since the time he briefly took them off. Wukong hadn’t been there when they were put back on as far as Sanzang knew, couldn’t have seen how excruciating it had been to lock himself away again after that brief taste of full freedom, but again he wondered if Wukong had managed to glean some understanding of what they were during that incident. Sanzang would have to question him about it soon, for his own peace of mind if nothing else. Something about the thought of any of his charges knowing, but especially Wukong, made something unpleasant shiver under his skin. He hoped none of them would ever know.)

It had only been a year, but already his investment in the pilgrims’ fates had gone from being for Bodhisattva Guanyin’s sake only to being entirely about his hope to see them succeed. 

He had become so fond of them even in such a short time, and although he missed his old life amongst the celestials without these bracelets leashing the very essence of him, he found he dearly wished for his charges to succeed and achieve enlightenment themselves far more, even if they themselves didn’t seem to care much about it, judging by how often they complained and conspired against him when they thought he couldn’t hear. (The fact that none of them ever made a serious attempt to abandon the journey was often the only kernel of hope he had as the nights grew longer and the road stretched ever on.)

All these swirling thoughts of his were interrupted by something soft being stroked across his face. 

Although he couldn’t see what caused it, he’d spent enough time around Bodhisattva Guanyin to recognize the feeling of a willow branch on his skin. She remained invisible, and although he could see her if he summoned his power once more (straining the magic of the bracelets binding him) he knew she would’ve shown herself if she wanted to be seen. 

He recognized her visit for what it was (a gentle reprimand), so he closed his eyes and folded his body into the lotus position once again. The minutes passed peacefully between them, her silent presence as comforting as it always was, warm and gentle as spring rain, and they needed no words between them. 

He breathed in, felt the knot of anger and anxiety and frustration and panic coiling in his chest, building from the time he’d last given himself to properly meditate, and he breathed it out. 

With each breath he felt himself relaxing more and more, the tight clutch of fear easing until it disappeared entirely. Soon he was empty, mind calm and quiet like it hadn’t been for a good many nights, and he felt as much like himself as he could, bound to the earth as he was. 

There was one more feather-light touch to his head (chastising, yet fond) and he could almost hear her saying you must take better care of yourself Golden Cicada; if you yourself are not at peace, then how can you help them find their own? before her presence faded and was gone completely. When he opened his eyes, all that remained as proof of her being there was a small lotus leaf filled with crystal clear water. 

Smiling at this generous gift, he picked up the leaf and took a small sip. He drank barely enough to be able to taste it, yet still the subsequent warmth and strength suffusing his body was immediate. (He didn’t realize how weak and tired he’d been feeling recently, not until energy lit him up once more). 

With care, he expertly twisted the edges of the leaf together until it closed up, protecting the water inside so he could safely store it in one of the hidden pockets in his robe. He would use it in their stew that night, as he knew they would be facing danger again soon and wanted his charges to have as much strength as they could before that happened. With one last look at his surroundings, Sanzang stood up, brushed himself off, and moved to return to the road where his charges were (hopefully) waiting for him.

When he returned to the site of the bandit attack, what he saw both surprised and warmed him. 

The bandits hadn’t really been aiming for their group when they attacked, as their sights were focused more on the wagon of a traveling family who’d been on the same road. Although the combined efforts of Bajie, Wujing, and Bailong were enough to scare away the rest of the bandits while Sanzang prevented Wukong from killing the man he’d chased into the forest, it appeared the family and the wagon hadn’t managed to escape entirely unscathed. 

The cart had somehow been flipped onto its side, flinging all of its contents into the grass beside the road, and while the horse pulling the wagon didn’t seem to be harmed, it had gotten loose and was now running down the road at a panicked gallop. The eldest of the group (likely the father of one of the parents), appeared to have broken his leg after falling from the wagon, and the two young children, a boy and a girl surely not more than five years old, were crying from their place stuck in a tree, where they’d gone to hide while the bandits fought the pilgrims.

But it was not all this that made Sanzang suddenly feel so warm and fond. 

It was the sight of Wujing carefully lifting and righting the cart onto the road as Bajie helped the father of the group pick up the family’s scattered supplies. 

It was Bailong quickly shifting into the horse form he generally seemed to prefer on the road to chase after the frightened mare, calming it down and leading it back to the family before it got too far to catch. 

It was Wukong soothing the scared children, carefully lifting them out of the tree and returning them to the ground, letting them cling to him until their shaking stopped and patiently calming them down so their mother could tend to their injured grandfather. 

A small smile painting his features, pride in his charges glowing brightly in his chest, Sanzang quickly strode over to help the mother set the elderly man’s leg.

Perhaps there’s hope for this journey after all. He thought to himself. 

Somehow, somewhere, he felt like Bodhisattva Guanyin was laughing.

(A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think and once again, happy #jttwfestival2020!)

[omnivorousshipper]

ATLA AU: Chasing Legacy - Part 3

Summary: Luke Hobbs’ peaceful life in Ba Sing Se is turned on its head when he discovers the next Avatar. Now, he has to fight off crazy ex-princes, glory seeking admirals, hordes of bandits, and even the spirits themselves as he has to follow the path the universe has set his family on.

Part 2

           By the end of Luke’s shift, he had a vague plan formed and knew exactly what he needed to do in order to keep Sam safe. Or at least, he hoped it was enough to keep her safe.

           Waving goodbye to several of his coworkers, Luke headed off the normal path he took home, instead heading to the outskirts of the Lower Ring and towards the docks of Full Moon Bay. He hadn’t been near the area in quite some time since he had been transferred to patrols in the Lower Ring and no longer on the docks, reviewing the newest batches of refugees that came in boatloads. The job had been depressing when he had to constantly turn people away when they didn’t have the proper documents or weren’t able to follow the rules.

           After having to send away a heavily pregnant woman and her other young children, Luke had had enough and demanded to be transferred. Thank Oma and Shu his commanding officers took pity on him and let a new recruit take his position over while he was allowed to work much closer to home. However, that never alleviated the heavy guilt that rested in his heart, sinking it further into despair depending on the day.

           Hunching over, Luke tried to make himself smaller and unrecognizable as he trudged through the back alleys that lead down to the docks. The place reeked of fish, unwashed masses, and sea water that churned Luke’s stomach; there was a reason why there weren’t many earthbending fishermen. Swallowing thickly, Luke glanced around, searching for any sign of trouble and staying on his guard at all times. He had no idea if there were any wayward waterbenders hanging around the docks, wanting to drown an unsuspecting guard, especially if they had an vendettas against the Dai Li. There was always a rumor floating around the guard ranks that there had been a few guards attacked by a quick to anger waterbender trade, and Luke didn’t want to be added to that list.

           However, the waterbender wasn’t his focus; instead, he was searching for one man in particular: Brian O’Conner.

           Luke didn’t know much about the man’s past, other than he had been a former guard in a city outside of Ba Sing Se, but had fallen into a gang of criminals and has turned into a notorious smuggler ever since. He was said to be able to smug anything and everything in and out of Ba Sing Se at his leisure. After all, how else were the citizens of the Upper Ring supposed to get their tiger-seal pelts if none existed in the Earth Kingdom?

           Personally, Luke had run into O’Conner once before when the man and his crew had tried to smuggle a polar dog through the docks in plain sight. Luke had to wonder who’s bright idea that had been, or if the men had been dipping into their supply of cactus juice when they had tried that.

           He only hoped O’Conner was good as people said at smuggling, or else Luke was taking a huge gamble with his and Sam’s lives by hiring the man.

           It took over an hour of searching the docks and carefully listening to the conversations whispered in the dark corners to learn where O’Conner’s small vessel was hidden. The rugged ship was sneakily tied up between two much larger trading ships that engulfed it entirely and if one wasn’t looking for it, they pass over it. However, Luke was vigilant as he looked and saw the lamps on the small vessel lit and heard laughter coming from the main cabin. Taking a deep breath, Luke carefully started to bend the bottom of the bay up to make a small path to the boat.

           Immediately, the laughter stopped and Luke cursed himself for not predicting O’Conner not to have an earthbender with him. How else was he able to sneak around Ba Sing Se without someone easily pulling walls down and making their own door into places they shouldn’t be? Straightening up, Luke strode confidently over the small strip of land onto the boat. As soon as he stepped on board, he pushed the earth back down and when he looked up, he was met by three men.

           “What the hell are you doing?” A man barked at him, his fists raised slightly. He must be the earthbender, Luke thought to himself as he saw the man naturally fall into a bending form. “You better have a warrant!”

           “You think I’m a guard?” Luke raised an eyebrow.

           “Not that hard to guess.” Another man shrugged, and Luke recognized him as O’Conner. He had a hand on the handle of a long sword strapped to his hip, but had yet to pull it out. Promising.

           “Well then, just know I’m not here on guard business.”

           “Why the hell should we believe you?” The third, final man asked cautiously, eyes darting around as if to find more guards lurking around.

           “Because I’m a paying customer,” Luke drawled dryly and pulled out a heavy leather pouch. With ease, Luke tossed it to O’Conner, who caught it deftly and looked inside it without hesitation, eyebrows raising when he did so.

           “What do you want?” O’Conner asked slowly, eyes narrowed as he carefully held the pouch in his hands. “This is quite a lot.”

           It was a lot—in fact, it was nearly every coin Luke had been saving ever since Sam had been born. He needed to show them he meant business and at this moment, he was willing to give everything up if that meant Luke could get Sam out of Ba Sing Se and somewhere safe.

           “I need to get my daughter and myself out of the city as soon as possible.” Luke told them bluntly.

           “Why?” The earthbender asked and Luke glared at the man’s blatant curiosity.

           “I didn’t come here to be interrogated.” He snapped and looked at O’Conner. “Do we have a deal?”

           “Are you being hunted by the Dai Li?” O’Conner asked instead. “It’s going to be extra if we have to dodge their chains.”

           “No.”

           “Good. We’ll leave tomorrow night. If you’re not here by dusk, we’re leaving without you.” O’Conner told him simply. Nodding, Luke agreed. It wouldn’t take them long to pack up their belongings.

           As Luke made his wake back and out of the docks, he felt a rush of adrenaline rush through his veins, almost pushing at his skin. In just a matter of a few days, his world had been turned upside down and inside out. He only hoped Sam wouldn’t be too hurt at having to leave everything she had ever known behind as they ran.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

It would be cool if they did another 400 days type mini series with some characters. like showing us the beginning/middle/different parts of the apocalypse from the perspectives of: Marlon, Louis, Violet, Sophie, James, and Lilly. I think it would do well

I think something like this would do well, too. We talk about this a lot and I keep hoping that if we continue to talk about it, they’ll somehow hear us and actually do it haha. 

Just think of the possibilities- a game with each episode dedicated to following a different protagonist during a different time in the apocalypse, telling a previously unheard story. They could even do more character-driven stories that focus more on that aspect rather than the walkers and outside dangers, y’know? 

Really the only downside I could see if they actually did this is that people outside the fandom would be whiney about it? I mean, people who casually played Telltale games would look at Skybound like “Rehashing old characters who aren’t muh Clementine? Pass.” Y’know? And to be fair, I could see people within the fandom being disappointed, too. 

But a majority? I think we’d all be happy to just have another twdg installment if Skybound wanted to make one... as long as they leave Clementine alone. That’s my one condition haha. 

Leave her alone, Robert. 

I’ll even throw out a bunch of possibilities for episodes-

Carley and Doug - I would love an episode that starts with Carley working as a reporter just as the walkers come. We could meet her crew, go through when they were attacked and explore the trauma she experiences after watching her producer get eaten alive in front of her. 

Then, in comes our hero: Doug. Doug saves her life, and the two of them manage to escape and hideout. This is the perfect time to explore Doug’s character, too, as well as the relationship he and Carley had before they met up with the drugstore crew. 

We can learn more about how Carley came to be so good with firearms and more about Doug’s technical background. Not only that, but it would be interesting to see these two actually interact since, y’know... they canonically have romantic feelings for one another. 

Then the episode could end with them meeting Glenn outside, who brings them back to the group at the drugstore. 

The St Johns - Here me out, but I would totally be on board for an episode about these people and how they starting picking off their farmhands for food. We don’t even have to play as any of the St Johns, we could play as a farmhand that actually escaped that fate after discovering what these people were doing. 

It could definitely be more horror based, too. Like a cat and mouse sort of chase scene with the protagonist and Andy or Danny with them escaping with their life at the end and journeying off. 

We could also see more of the bandits and how that agreement came to be with them. We could see more of Jolene, too. 

Lilly - Okay, I want to know what the hell happened to Lilly between s1 and s4. From what I’ve gathered and inferred, Lilly wandered alone for years before finding the delta, the first place she ever considered home since... well, the motor-inn. Which... is nuts. 

Then there’s all the trauma of losing Larry on top of what a piece of shit he was. I know I laugh at her for being all “No more ice cream, no more hair dryer” when she was telling Clementine about Larry cutting their power but we don’t know much about just how abusive Larry was. 

Plus, we don’t know what happened to her mom. Larry still carried her wedding ring even into the apocalypse and died with it in his pocket. There’s just... a lot of things. 

So I think an episode about Lilly by herself could be an interesting exploration of her being her own enemy, y’know? When I say character-driven, I mean solely character-driven with Lilly having flashbacks or nightmares or talking to herself or even hallucinations. Think Michonne, but even better executed. And with no ghost children. Maybe a ghost Larry, though. Which is arguably worse. 

And it could end with someone from the delta finding her. 

Christa and Omid - I feel like this is an obvious one since everyone loves these two and we’re still salty that they never brought Christa back. So it’d be cool to see these two either before meeting Lee’s group, or their time with Clementine between s1 and s2.

This is the only time I’ll allow Clementine to be here. If they feel they have to plop Clementine into this, then do it this way. We could explore Clementine’s guilt of what happened to Lee and the trauma she suffered while with the stranger, we could explore Christa’s pregnancy and learn more about her and Omid’s relationship. 

We could see some dad moments with Omid as he and Clementine bond, perhaps dive into the fear and anxiety of a baby that’s coming, too. 

Kenny and Sarita - So... while Kenny’s not my favorite person, I can’t deny that I’d be interested in seeing him after he apparently escapes the walker horde after killing Ben and what he went through before he met Sarita. 

Hell, have an episode where we play as Sarita as she stumbles upon Kenny and how she saved him from the restaurant he was hiding in. We could get a glimpse into Kenny from Sarita’s point of view and what they went through during their time together. We could learn about Walter and Matthew, too. 

Honestly, I just want to know more about Sarita as a character rather than a plot device to die in order to further Kenny’s development, y’know?  

Bonnie - Yeah, yeah, I know. No one likes Bonnie and “who wants to play as Bonnie again?? she sucks??”, but damn it... I want them to redeem how badly they fucked up with her story in 400 Days. 

I want an episode about her struggling with her drug addiction and how it affected her when the dead started walking. What she was willing to do to get her fix, y’know? Bring back Leland and Dee and how they helped with her road to recovery.

Leland himself even said that when they found her, she was still so stuck on those drugs. I think exploring that could be a fascinating experience. 

Jane - An episode about Jane and Jamie? An exploration of Jane’s struggle with keeping her sister alive while having that internal survival instinct trying to take over all leading to her finally giving Jamie what she wanted- to leave her. Then how that guilt and loss took a toll on Jane and hardened her.

And like, I know Jane is kind of in the same boat as Bonnie where a lot of people [specifically Kenny followers] absolutely hate her and would whine about an episode dedicated to exploring her character, but I don’t care. I’d play it, I’d love to understand Jane more, even if I don’t particularly like her. 

David - This one is here for selfish reasons. I want an episode all about David. I don’t care what you do, but I want to see David’s struggle of literally losing his entire family in a single night, as well as losing the world to the apocalypse and having to move forward.

Like... seriously, remember what Kate was all “I bet David was happy when the world ended” or some shit? I actually disagree, Kate, since the day the world ended, he lost his father, mother, brother, uncle, his fucking children, and you, his wife within a night.  He spent years thinking you all were dead while traveling with Ava and his unit, fighting the dead and trying to survive.... but no, the day the walkers came was probably super great for him. Ugh. 

The bonus is we get more Ava, too. Also, I don’t think anyone would oppose if you threw in the whole “David and Lingard might’ve had a thing”... just sayin’. We stan bisexual David. 

Javier - Throwing this one in there because I think an episode about Javi, Kate, Gabe, and Mari would do incredibly well. Everyone misses the Garcia’s, everyone was bummed that we ever got a follow up to what Javi was up to after ANF. 

Y’know... since ANF was a mess, they probably didn’t feel they could do a follow up because people wouldn’t play... but I’m telling you, we’d play another adventure as Javier Garcia. I don’t know what kind of story you’d tell, but it doesn’t matter. Well, it does... but ya get me. 

Plus, more Gabe and Mariana content. C’mon. 

James - *slams fists on table* I want my James and the whisperers episode damn it!! And I’m gonna keep saying it until someone either makes it or pays me to shut up. 

I don’t care if you like James or not, you can’t deny how fascinating it would be to have an entire episode dedicated to the whisperers. On top of that, we’d get to see James and Charlie and how their relationship suffered during their time with the whisperers, as well as James realizing what a monster he became. 

Maybe we could have a scene where James actually makes his famous mask, or a scene of James escaping them and leaving Charlie behind. It could end with James in his camp until he hears gunshots one night. When he goes to investigate, he finds Clementine and AJ trying to escape Lilly and Abel and we get him intervening from his perspective. 

There ya go, there’s a second Clementine cameo that doesn’t fuck everything up. Ta-dah. 

Sophie and Minerva - A popular one that most of us would want. Them after they were taken away and how they suffered within the delta. It’d be cool to play as Sophie, and tragic since we know how that would end. But we could be the one who acts out and tries to escape all while doing our best to keep Minerva from giving into them... which again, imagine the heartbreak. 

The Ericson crew - Like with the twins, this would be a popular one that most people would want to play. While I’d rather they kept their fingers off Louis and Violet since they’re bound to fuck them up, I can’t deny that I want to know what happened at the school during the first days. 

We could even play as Ms. Martin as she chooses to stay and take care of all these kids, how she bonds with them before inevitably meeting her fate in the greenhouse. 

And c’mon, you know you want to see baby child versions of our Ericson kiddos. Imagine Louis and Violet at these young ages? Seeing other kids we never got to meet? We’d eat it up! ...Well, assuming they did a good job with their characterizations. Y’know. 

---

Those are all the major ones I’d like to see, but hey, if any of you had other ideas for episodes following characters I didn’t mention, feel free to share! 

[mocsbylexan]

An anonymous note deposited in Turaga Whenua's memo box in the New Atero Great Temple, a service often sought out by those who have secrets or troubles weighing on their mind:

I am a Toa of Fire. I fought in the Battle of Worlds against the Makuta's hordes, just like many of us did. I know we all carry scars from that day. But I have something about it that I can't get off my mind.

My comrades and I spent most of the battle surrounded by rahkshi. They took the lives of many people that I loved. I was fighting one of them one on one right up until the very moment the golden lightning came and struck them all down. I was sure it was going to kill me! But when the lightning did come and save my life, I looked into my opponent's eyes as it died and saw pain and fear. While my friends were celebrating around me I couldn't stop looking at the smoking husks of our enemies littered around the battlefield.

I feel like nobody else experienced anything like that. Everyone talks about the rahkshi like they were just monsters. But I can't get the look in that poor monster's eyes out of my mind, even to this day.

<>

Several excerpts from Onezu Nuva's journal:

Over the past several days a company of Skrall bandits has been skirting around the edges of my domain. It seems they wish to plunder these ruins for valuables. It wouldn't do for them to discover me here.

I've chosen to view this not as an inconvenience but as an opportunity to test the power of my creations. No need to dirty my own hands and risk them spotting me. Tomorrow I will send out Varresk and the Rahkshi to take care of them, and we will see what the power of a Makuta's shadow-wielding servants can truly do.

<>

By all objective metrics, the test was a resounding success. Despite the fact that my servants were but two creatures against an entire warband the Skrall were slaughtered to a man, compared merely to the loss of a rahkshi on my side of the equation. Their bodies will soon be buried by the desert sands. I ought to be very pleased.

Yet I'm not. It seems that the test exposed an irritating flaw in what I thought was my finest creation to date.

Ever since he returned Varresk has been inconsolable over the rahkshi's destruction. It's the first time I've seen him express any emotion since his transformation, other than steadfast loyalty to me. I've tried explaining to him that the greatest strength of rahkshi is their disposability. They are servants born from my own body; I send them out to do my bidding and they do it or die trying. None of that seems to matter to him. Even as I write this he's sniveling in the corner.

<>

Varresk has discarded his toa tool and insists on wielding the dead rahkshi's staff instead. He claims he is "honoring his fallen brother". What a ridiculous notion.

I won't argue with the effectiveness of his new equipment. Still, I would have thought he'd have learned his lesson about over-attachment, seeing as his fondness for me turned out so well for him.

The Faithful Follower

[platypanthewriter]

The Dragon’s Prince

Chapter One: Humans Aren't Furniture

Steve knew he was in the right spot when the first villager to see him--a man with a huge bruise on his forehead--yelped and ran, clutching at what looked to be a solid-gold chamberpot. 

“I heard there’s a dragon here,” Steve called out, standing in his stirrups.  His horse sighed. “I don’t want any trouble--I definitely don’t want your chamberpots--”

“Who the hell are you?”  A young woman poked her face over the fence near his elbow.  “What’s that sword for, then?”

It was both convenient and annoying, Steve thought, to be travelling without his entourage and ceremonial armor.  “This sword wouldn’t hurt him.” He grabbed the hilt and pulled a few inches of blade to show plain steel, not the slick, greenish sheen of an anti-magic enchantment.  

“Mmmm,” she hummed, squinting.

“His privateer license expired, is all--” Steve shrugged.

“Go away!  You’re here because he ate our sheep!” a kid yelled, and Steve sat back down in the saddle, brushing snow off his arms.

“Is that what happened?”

“He just strolled into town and asked whose sheep he’d eaten,” said another villager, hanging out a window.  “Been up on north field. Hucked treasure at everyone.” More of them were venturing forth, one of them holding a golden harp.  

“Broke my front tooth,” said the kid, yanking her lip back to show a gap, “--he was naked.”  Steve stared between his horse’s ears, and the kid smacked his boot.  “You gonna take all the stuff he gave us? It was too much, but he gave it to us.”

“No,” Steve grimaced at the guy hiding in plain sight “behind” a tiny shrub, “--no, keep your...chamberpots, I understand a trade caravan will be coming through, if you want to sell some…” he trailed off as a villager waved and pointed him to a ceramic vase larger than she was.  “Uh, some of his...gifts. They usually keep track of where he’s been.” A cheer went up around him, and he sighed. Definitely the right place, he thought.  Now I just have to convince him to listen to me.  And risk his life. If anything, he felt more tired, and he rolled his shoulders, hiding his wince as it strained the bandages under his jacket.  While I’m doing those two impossible tasks, maybe I can convince him to put on pants.

After some negotiation--and a stern refusal to accept harps or encyclopedias in payment--Steve stood at the base of a fall of boulders, and began to climb.  He started scrambling faster as the sun set, and the boulders shifted, and caught his boot. He froze, taking a shaky breath, and clung to the rock face, remembering the expression on General Hopper’s face after Steve received his orders.  

“Why not a dragon that responds to summons,” Hopper had gritted out.

“We need a fire dragon,” Steve had echoed his father’s words in his own voice, and tried to sound certain.  “He--he doesn’t kill anyone outside his license. I just--I don’t know what I can offer him. He could be in danger from them too, and they didn’t give me any--I can’t go to a dragon, even that dragon, and say “Please fight our battles, we’ll definitely figure out something to pay you with later--”

“There was that bandit.”  Hopper had shaken his head, and stomped away.  

Steve had imagined himself seared black, and speared on a tree like a butcherbird’s breakfast, and wondered semi-hysterically which had happened first.

“E-except that,” he’d agreed.  “I’m--I’m sure there was some--”

“He is a dragon,” Hopper muttered.

Steve yanked on his leg, yelling at the flash of pain, and the boulders shifted again, sending an avalanche of rocks and dirt down slamming into his shoulders, and the back of his head.

When he awoke, he was warm, and clean, and everything was bright through his eyelids.  “...oh shit,” he whispered, curling tighter, “--I’m dead, and now everyone else will be dead--”

“Whoa there,” breathed a voice next to his ear, “--pretty boy.”

Steve stilled, opening his eyes on gold, and golden scales, because the voice of a dragon was unmistakable.  It rumbled all around him and blew across the skin of his back like bellows over hot coals. He swallowed, closing his eyes again.  Of course I’m naked.

“I know, touching me feels like heaven,” the dragon continued, “--but I have to ask.  What drives a prince...to climb a landslide...to knock on my door?”

Steve tried to stand, and found his right foot was a sea of pain.  His vision went starry.  

“Whoa, whoa,” the rumble said, and smooth scales curled around him.  Steve allowed himself to be propped up, then lifted, grabbing at the talons around his butt and ribs, and blinked into the face of the gold dragon.  He’s young, he thought distractedly, his head’s barely the size of a pony.  

“My--I’ve been sent--”

“Are you a present?” asked the dragon, ignoring him.  “I took your giftwrap off, it was a bit--” it waved a claw, “--torn, after I dug you out.  I think you’d look great on this rock here,” it held him up to a slanted boulder the size of Steve’s bed, and tugged some furs from a pile to toss over it.  “I think your ass would really bring the room together.”  

“My--what,” Steve tried to turn, and the dragon leaned its head within view, teeth bared in what Steve suspected was an annoying dragon grin.  “My--I am not--I am his Royal Highness Prince Steven of Hawkins, Duke of Harringtown and Knight of the Realm, and I have been--”

The dragon sniffed him, and he resisted jerking away, swallowing.  “Why send you out without your guard? You were wounded before you came here,” it informed him, and he stared back into enormous, bluey-gold eyes.

“I know that.”  Steve gritted his teeth.  

The dragon’s grin widened.  “Entirely-gold hoards are out this year.  I think a prince’s smooth skin would really make it pop.”  

“I thought you didn’t eat people.”

The dragon blinked, then huffed.  “I’m just saying you’d look nice lounging--”

“I need your help,” Steve hissed.

The dragon momentarily stopped trying to angle him different ways in the light.  “What are you offering?” he asked, the flames flickering in his throat.

Steve rolled his eyes.  “I don’t know what you want.  You must have enough money,” he waved at the piles of treasure, “--this isn’t even your main horde.  And you aren’t paying taxes, like you agreed to do when you applied for your privateer license--”

“...you.”  The dragon went still, running a knuckle down Steve’s face, and then met his eyes again and laughed.  “As--as decor, naturally--”

“In a cave where you put me?” Steve asked, to clarify.  It was better than being roasted, he figured, or dropped onto a spike.  “I’ll need to ask you to defer my payment until--”

“One night, with you,” the dragon interrupted, turning its face away.  “I mean, if you can’t tear yourself away after--”

“One night?” Steve squinted at him, and then grabbed for the dragon’s talons again, kicking for balance as he was suddenly lowered to the floor of the cave.  The mountainous gold coils and wings folded and curled inward, packing themselves impossibly tiny until they resolved into a human-ish shape covered in shining scales, and sporting dragon horns.  

He crouched, frowning at Steve’s swollen foot, then smirked up.  “One night...with me.”

“Oh!” Steve almost clapped in realization, but caught himself, blushing, as the dragon-man leaned his face into his scaly hand and cackled.  “Just…” he trailed off, rephrasing his objections, until he remembered the amount of people at risk, and the whole reason he was there.  Maybe he enjoys sex where the human survives, he told himself, and held out his hand.  

The dragon took it in both of his, edging much too close for a handshake, and held it, grinning, as though he was delighted Steve had offered it, and didn’t intend to give it back.  

He leaned closer, his clawed thumb rubbing gently at the skin between Steve’s knuckles, and licked his lips, his gaze dropping to Steve’s mouth, and Steve barely had time for a startled inhale before he had warm lips pressed to his.  Up close, the dragon looked a bit like a very expensive costume, Steve thought, like someone at a masquerade ball, when he would wonder whether the person pressing him into the wall knew who he was kissing. He wondered, now, whether the dragon had ever attended.

 The gold was digging into his butt, and his foot throbbed, but the dragon’s warm bulk was surprisingly cozy.  He had unreasonably long lashes, and soft lips, and Steve let himself relax into the kiss, licking curiously into a dragon’s mouth.  He found it nearly steaming hot, and thankfully clean of singed bandit. The pile of treasure he was lying on shifted.  

He winced as something jabbed into his side, and the dragon reached over--still licking gently into Steve’s mouth--and bent the metal arm of it back with a grating creak.  The reminder that a dragon could have crushed his skull with one hand, and instead was running soft fingertips along his jaw--and shifting scaly knees so as not to jostle his sore foot--made him feel a bit like jelly inside, and he laughed into the kisses, panting.  He pushed himself up on his elbows, into the kiss.  

The dragon hummed, grinning against his mouth, and dropped alongside him.  His hands were pleasantly hot, running up and down Steve’s ribs. “You should see what I’ve got, before you agree to anything.”

“What?” Steve murmured back, tossing a leg over the dragon’s waist.  

“We can--we can make sure this is fine--after I’ve saved your humans.” 

“What--what do I call you,” Steve whispered into the kisses, and the dragon pulled back to grin at him, then leaned in for another kiss, and another.  

“You don’t--you don’t know my name?”  He kissed Steve’s lips again. The skin was starting to feel tender.  

“You’re designated by color, ability, and area,” Steve rambled, accepting kisses when he paused.  “--it’s--mm. It’s a mess--the way you keep flying around--I thought your name must be some--some Dragonish growly noise that--that they didn’t know how to spell, which, rude--” he panted into another kiss, losing his train of thought.

“...Billy,” he snickered into Steve’s ear.  “You always let strangers do this?”

Steve remembered with a jolt that he’d been sent to bring a dragon back, whether it required his oath or his life, and he shook his head.  “It’s dangerous, what I--what I need from--”

Billy bit, oh-so-gently, up the side of Steve’s neck, and he groaned, losing track of his words as his eyes fluttered shut.  “You finally came without your guards.”

“Were you waiting to get me alone?” Steve snorted.  “If you weren’t giving pornographic statues to children, you wouldn’t rile everyone up so much--” 

Billy snickered.  “It was heavy! I didn’t wanna carry that thing!  Fun though it was.”

“She was eleven--”

“Oh, she kept cows, she’d seen worse.  You probably bought it from her.”

“We couldn’t very well--”

“So she’s better off, now.  Several times the price of a couple cows.”  Billy’s teeth shone sharp in his grin, and he leaned in to run his knuckles up Steve’s side.  “I’ve got some treasures I’ve been saving for you…actually, here--” he leaned off the edge of the rock, then held up a vial of sparkling silvery fluid.

“It’s--it’s just my ankle,” Steve stared at it.  “We can stop by a healer on the way back, there’s no need for--”

“You’re hurt,” Billy uncorked it with his teeth, “--that’s what it’s for.  If I’m not paying attention, and you get hurt again, it’ll use it up later, maybe.  Maybe your tears will start healing the sick.”

“How would I even find out that was happening,” Steve asked, frowning at the vial.  “You should sell that stuff to some kingdom with a dying queen, or something.”

“Or maybe,” Billy whispered, “--you’ll live as long as a dragon.  Try for that one.”  

“How am I supposed to try for something--”

Billy grinned, sticking it in Steve’s mouth, and Steve drank it, staring at him over a potion worth as much as...a prince’s ransom, he wondered.  A king’s castle?  

“Why didn’t you drink it yourself?” he asked, as Billy frowned at, tapped it, and tipped the last drop onto Steve’s extended tongue.  “You could--”

“I’m a dragon,” Billy licked his lips, watching Steve’s mouth, “--you think I’m going to get hurt?  You’re fragile.  If something happens--”

“Why do you care about me?”  Steve asked, lowering his eyes to flex his suddenly-painless foot.  He reached down to tug at the loosened bandages. They were stuck together with blood.  “I mean--”

“You--you’re the prince,” the dragon laughed, tossing the empty vial against the far wall, and Steve nodded, biting his lips.

“Right.”

“No, I mean--” Billy crouched in front of him, cocking his head to catch Steve’s eye, “--everyone knows what you’re like.  We know what you do, because you’re the prince. You’re on coins--”

“I’m valuable.”  Steve nodded, keeping his shoulders relaxed, and giving his best public ‘welcome’ smile.  

“No,” Billy pushed him back, climbing over him again, and kissed his nose, “--no, I mean--I know you, I read every copy of the Imperial Gazette--”

Steve snorted, bursting into cackles of laughter.  “You think you know me through that?!”

“...no,” Billy muttered, his gold scales pinkening.

“What’s my favorite color?”  Steve grinned up at him, and Billy leaned in for another kiss.

“Gold,” he whispered.  “The best color.”

“...I do like yellow a lot,” Steve whispered into the kiss, and Billy squeezed him.

“I know enough about you,” he mouthed along Steve’s ear, “--to know I want to know everything about you.”  

Steve’s heart pounded, and he took a shaky breath, then cleared his throat.  “...what kind of name for a dragon is ‘Billy’,” he mumbled, his head muzzy with warm hands and bright smiles.  “Shouldn’t you be. The Slayer. Something about fire. Smog.”

“Rude,” the dragon whispered against his mouth.  “Billy the Slayer?”

One more question, Steve thought, before he burns them all away, kissing me.  “Wha--Billy.”  he cleared his throat, leaning into the hand on his head.  “Wait. Why did you burn that man?” 

Billy punched his shoulder.  “You saw his crimes!”

“I didn’t,” Steve raised his eyebrows, tugging a fur over himself, and lying back against the boulder with a sigh, “--because you didn’t send in your paperwork, like usual--my lungs are full of bandit flesh now--you couldn’t just break his legs and drop him at a guard station--”

“I--I definitely sent--” he paused, thinking.  “I didn’t.” The dragon scrambled away, sliding down the mound of treasure in his tiny human form.  “Ah, here they are--”

“How do you fill them out?” Steve asked.  “Do you use your claws? With your eyes shut?  Because that would explain--”

The cavern brightened with a poof of flame.  “I use a quill--look--” he clambered back up the shifting mounds of treasure, waving a handful of papers, “--see, look, he stuck his cock in places it wasn’t wanted, so I stuck a tree through it.  And set him on fire.”

Steve grimaced, finally relaxing.  “Oh. Well. That’s fair.”

“And then I threw his golden chamberpot at the first person I--”

“Who has a golden chamberpot,” Steve started snickering, and couldn’t stop, curled against his warm dragon.  Eventually the days travelling wounded caught up to him, and he mumbled his replies, then snored, with the vague impression of gentle claws combing through his hair.

@neonlaynes​ @tracy7307​

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Lost Princess Chapter 15

Warnings: fluff/angst

Rating: SFW

In the Small House, you and the others carried on with your conversation. 

“So, you delivered that book? That navigation gummi’s installed and ready to go. You find another one, you bring it to me. I threw in a warp gummi for the heck of it. Now you can jump to worlds you’ve been to before. Well, better get back to my real job. What’s my real job? You’ll see. See me at the First District,” Cid said. 

“I’ve been thinking about the bell in the Second District,” Aerith said. 

“That one that rang a bit ago?” you asked. 

“The one above the gizmo shop. There’s a legend about it, you know,” Yuffie said. 

“But it’s all boarded up. Nobody can get in there,” Aerith said. 

“Heck, go check it out. Ring it three times to see if anything happens,” Cid said. The four of you left and entered the Second District, battling Heartless on the way to the roof of the Gizmo Shop. The four of you took down the wooden boards of the bell tower and Sora rang the bell. The mural in the fountain in the square below changed and the empty fountain filled with flames. You rang the bell and the mural changed once more, the fire dissipating and the lights above the fountain blinked on. When the bell tolled the third time, the lights shut off and water spurted out of the fountain, the mural changing finally to butterflies surrounding a flower, which then revealed a large Keyhole. The four of you jumped down to the square and approached the fountain when the Guard Armor dropped from the sky. You and Sora began attacking the torso of the Heartless while Donald and Goofy went after its legs. It spun its arms wildly and with a few more hits, it crashed to the ground, motionless. The four of you paused, watching as the armor twitched. It reformed its body and fell forward, its arms digging into the ground. Its torso and legs flipped over, and the toes of its hammer- like feet curve inward, forming hands. Its helmet opened and its yellow eyes stared blankly at you four. It lunged forward and met the blade in Sora’s hands. The Opposite Armor continued to tackle you four, floating in midair. The Heartless soon split itself in half, the helmet and arms going after you, and the feet and torso found their targets in Donald and Goofy. Donald summoned a Thunder spell with your help, sending bolts of electricity into the armor. The helmet swirled around between the arms, almost taunting them, before its body reformed. It moved to tackle you four again, but mid-tackle, you striked, knocking its parts everywhere. Nearly defenseless, the four of you destroyed its appendages, leaving just the torso and helmet. It turned its torso sideways, staring at you four with its glowing eyes. A ball of energy shot out from inside it, and it targeted you and Sora, who dodged away. Another ball of energy shot out, and this time Sora was ready for it. He blocked with his Keyblade, sending the orb back to the Opposite Armor, which began to shake violently. The helmet fell inside its torso and a large glowing heart floated out into the sky, before the armor disappeared. You and Sora walked over to the shining Keyhole, and Sora locked it. The Keyhole shimmered and broke off, disintegrating into pieces, leaving only the butterfly mural and a gummi block. You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy return to the First District and met Cid behind the Accessory Shop. 

“Hey, now that was quick! Now you know. I’m in the gummi block business. Workin’ on your gummi ship sure was great. Come again and I’ll give you a big discount,” Cid said. You handed him the gummi block. 

“Go ahead, take it. It’s a special giveaway,” he said. The four of you showed him the gummi block you found at the Keyhole. 

“Hey, got another navigation gummi there, eh? I’ll bet you want it installed,” he said. 

“Yeah, please,” you said. 

“Hmm... Looks like this is another one of those blocks that come in sets. You gotta find the mate to this one.” He returned the gummi block to you four and the four of you entered the Accessory Shop, seeing a small boy on the floor near the counter. Jiminy Cricket jumped onto Sora’s shoulder (i always forget that he’s there).

“Well, well, as I live and breathe! If it isn’t Pinocchio!” he said. The cricket hopped down to the boy and you and Sora were surprised to see that he was entirely made of wood.

“Oh. Hi, Jiminy,” Pinocchio said as he looked up. 

“What in the world are you doing down here?” Jiminy asked. 

“Um... Playing hide-and-seek.”Jiminy started pacing around. 

“I just don’t believe it. And here I was, up all night, just worried sick about you. Why of all the—” he looked up at Pinocchio, shocked. 

“Pinocchio!” he said. Pinocchio stared at his nose, which had magically grown longer. 

“Pinocchio! Are you telling me the truth?” he said, sternly. 

“Yes!” Pinocchio said. 

“Then tell me, what is this?” he asked as he pointed to an item on the floor beside them.

“It was a present,” Pinocchio said. 

“No fibbing, now! You know you’re not supposed to tell lies. A lie only grows and grows, ‘til you get caught! Plain as the nose on your face!” 

“But if you want something, why wait? Why not just take it?” 

“Oh, my! Who told you that? You need some advice from your conscience!” 

“That’s right! You’re my conscience, Jiminy! I’ll never tell lies as long as you’re around.” Magic surrounded Pinocchio’s nose and it shrunk to its normal size. 

“You need to be good so you can become a real boy. You promised Geppetto you would be, right?” Jiminy said. 

“Oh! Do you know where Father is?” 

“He’s not with you?” 

“Jiminy, let’s go find Father!” 

“Now, hold on! There are all sorts of dangers and temptations out there! I’ll go find Geppetto, so you just wait here. These fellows here will be helping me.” 

“We will?” You and Sora asked. Pinocchio stood up.

“Well, shall we go?” Jiminy asked. 

“You could’ve asked us first...” Sora said. The four of you left Traverse Town and traveled to Olympus Coliseum, where you all competed in the Phil Cup. After making your way up the tournament, you spoke to Phil and Hercules. 

“I never thought you’d do it. Not bad,” Phil said. 

“Phil, you’re just as stubborn as ever. Don’t pretend you’re not happy for them!” Hercules said. 

“Ahem! Now, kid, you’ve still got a long way to go. The next round’s startin’ soon. Next time it’ll be the real thing.” The four of you left for the world of Agrabah, where a tall, thin man in robes walked through the streets with Maleficent. 

“And the Keyhole?” she asked. 

“The Heartless are searching for it now. I’m certain we’ll find it soon enough. So that just leaves...” the man said. Overhead, a brightly-colored parrot squawked through the air loudly before circling down to land on the man’s pointed shoulders. 

“Jafar! I’ve looked everywhere for Jasmine. She’s disappeared like magic!” he said. 

“The girl is more trouble than she’s worth,” Jafar said. 

“You said you had things under control,” Maleficent said. 

“Agrabah is full of holes for rats to hide in. But why worry about Princess Jasmine? With her or without her, surely this world will be ours when we find the Keyhole.” 

“We need all seven princesses of heart to open the final door. Any fewer is useless. And let’s not forget that a spirit has risen. We need that girl’s powers to make the plan complete.” 

“Well, if the princess is that important, we’ll find her. Along with that spirit.” Bandit Heartless appeared behind him, brandishing swords. 

“Find Jasmine and the spirit and bring them to me at once,” Jafar said. The Heartless followed Iago through the streets. 

“Don’t steep yourself in darkness too long. The Heartless consume the careless,” Maleficent said. Jafar laughed proudly. 

“Your concern is touching, but hardly necessary,” he said. Behind Maleficent in a watermelon stand, a worried young woman overheard their conversation. She was no commoner, as her jewelry and her clothes are obviously expensive. You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy arrived  in the Plaza to find Heartless roaming the streets of Agrabah. The four of you took out the Heartless as you made your way into an Alley. Sora gasped, when he saw someone staring at them from behind a pile of crates. 

“Who’s there? Hello?” she asked. The girl came out of hiding and spoke to you four. 

“I’m Jasmine. My father is the sultan of Agrabah,” she said.

“Uh... So that makes you a princess,” Goofy said. 

“But he has been deposed by Jafar, who now controls the city.” 

“Jafar?” you asked. 

“You haven’t heard of him? He’s the royal vizier. He’s gained evil powers and seized Agrabah. He’s desperately looking for something— something he calls the “Keyhole” and a spirit. Jafar caught me trying to escape, but he helped me.” 

“Who helped you?” Sora asked. 

“We were hiding nearby, but he left a while ago to take care of something... Oh, I hope Aladdin’s all right.” 

“Aladdin? Where might I find this street rat?” The five of you looked toward the voice and saw Jafar on a high ledge. 

“Jasmine, allow me to find you more suitable company, my dear princess. Same with you, pretty spirit These little rats won’t do, you see,” he said. 

“Jasmine, (Y/N), run!” Sora said. You took Jasmine’s hand the two of you ran into the city and the three revealed their weapons.

“Ah, the boy who holds the key,” Jafar said. Jafar summoned Heartless, who dropped down and attacked them as Jafar escaped. They defeated the Heartless and walked through Main Street, finding an entrance to a loft. Inside the loft, they found an ornate rug trying to pull itself out from under a chest of drawers. They moved it off of the rug, who stood in front of them on two tassels and bowed in gratitude, before magically flying out the open hole in the wall. 

“The carpet flew off toward the desert. Let’s follow it, Sora!” Donald said. They made their way to the vast desert, sand and sky as far as the eye can see. The magic carpet flew towards them and landed. It motioned for them to come along, and they rode it to a sandpit, where a young man and his pet monkey were trapped in the sand. A horde of Heartless appeared and they were forced to fight them before reaching the young man. More Heartless surrounded them. 

“Gawrsh, not again!” Goofy said. The man managed to get himself free, pulling out a rather old and dirty oil lamp. 

“Genie, get rid of these guys!” Aladdin said. He rubbed the lamp and held it into the air. Magic sparks appeared from the lamp followed by blue smoke, and a large genie erupted from it with a yell. 

“Wish Number One, coming right up!” The Genie said. He snapped his fingers and the Heartless vanished around them. Later, they stood in the desert as the magic carpet flew overhead. 

“I see...Thanks Sora!” Aladdin said. 

“Aladdin, what’re you doing out here?” Sora asked. 

“Same old stuff. Hunting legendary treasure. Just paid a visit to the Cave of Wonders.” The carpet landed next to him. 

“I found that magic carpet, and this lamp,” Aladdin said as he held up the magic lamp.

“Legend has it that whoever holds the lamp can summon the—”

“Please, kid, leave the intros to a professional. The one and only GENIE OF THE LAMP!” The Genie interrupted as he rubbed the lamp

“Rub-a-dub-dub the lamp and have your dearest wishes granted.” He bowed and flew over to Aladdin. 

“Today’s winner is...Aladdin! Congratulations!” he said. Genie made confetti rain down on him and shook his hand.

“Any wish?” Donald asked. 

“Patience, my fine feathered friend,” The Genie said. He split into three genies, each holding up three fingers.

“Any three wishes ! A one wish,” he said as he made one figure disappear.

“A two wish.” Another figure disappeared.

“A three wish. Then I make like a banana and split!” The third figure disappeared. 

“Our lucky winner made his first wish—” He reappeared next to Sora.

“And let me tell you, what a doozy that wish was—” He split into two back-to-back genies. 

“So he has two left,” he echoed. He popped out and zoomed back in, turning his smoky tail into a microphone.

“So, master, what’ll you have for Wish Number Two?” he asked. He spun and dropped a spotlight on Aladdin, who put a hand on his chin.

“Hmm, how about making me a fabulously wealthy prince?” he asked. 

“Oooh! Money! Royalty! Fame!” The Genie said as he pinched the air and bowed. 

“Okay, you asked for it! A hundred servants and a hundred camels loaded with gold!” he said. He started dialing on an imaginary phone, holding his hand up to his ear.

“Just say the word and I’ll deliver it in 30 minutes or less, or your meal’s free,” he said. He flew over to Aladdin, putting an arm around his shoulder. 

“Hey, I’ll even throw in a cappuccino!” he said. 

“No, thanks!” Aladdin chuckled. 

“Okay.” 

“I think I’ll put that on hold until we reach Agrabah.” 

“Uh, why a prince?” Goofy asked. 

“You see, there’s this girl in Agrabah named Jasmine. But she’s a princess, and I’m... Aww, she could never fall for a guy like me,” Aladdin said. He looked toward the sand.

“Oh. Princess?” Donald asked. 

“Jasmine?” Goofy asked. 

“Oh, that’s right! She’s in trouble, Aladdin! And so is (Y/N)!” Sora said. 

“Who’s (Y/N)?” Aladdin asked. 

“She’s my best friend.” 

“What? Well, c’mon, let’s get going!” They boarded the magic carpet, and started flying back to Agrabah. Genie flew alongside them. 

“Ah, fresh air! The great outdoors!” he said. 

“I guess you don’t get out much, huh?” Sora asked. 

“Comes with the job. Phenomenal cosmic powers. Itty-bitty living space. It’s always three wishes, then back to my portable prison. I’m lucky to see the light of day every century or two...” 

“Say, Genie, what if I use my last wish to free you from the lamp? What do you think?” Aladdin asked. 

“You’d do that?” The Genie asked smiling.

“Genie, it’s a promise. After we help Jasmine and (Y/N).” They flew to the city and entered Aladdin’s House.

“So, Jafar is after Jasmine, (Y/N), and this “Keyhole.” Why does he want (Y/N)?” Aladdin said. 

“(Y/N) has the power of a spirit but I don’t know why Jafar wants her,” Sora said. 

“Keyhole and a spirit, eh? I could swear I’ve heard about those somewhere before...” Genie said. 

“Really? Where?” Donald asked. 

“Now, where was it? It’s only been 200 years...” 

“Well, anyway, we’ve got to stop Jafar before it’s too late,” Sora said. They entered the Palace Gates by way of a high ledge and saw Jafar standing at the gates with Princess Jasmine and you. They jumped down to your level, alerting the vizier to their presence.

“Setting your sights a little high, aren’t you boy? Back to your hole, street rat. I will not allow you to trouble the princess any more,” Jafar said. 

“Sora!” you yelled. 

“(Y/N!” Sora yelled back. 

“Jasmine!” Aladdin shouted.

“I’m so sorry, Aladdin,” Jasmine said. 

“Me too, Sora,” you said. Jafar held out an arm to block you and Jasmine, while Aladdin pulled out the lamp behind his back. 

“Genie, help Jasmine and (Y/N), please!” Aladdin said as he rubbed the lamp. Jafar turned and his eyes grew wide, seeing Genie carrying you and Jasmine. 

“One wish left! You’re making this really easy, you know,” Genie said cheerfully.

“So sorry, boy. I’m afraid your second wish has been denied,” Jafar smirked. Iago flew over to Jafar with the lamp. Aladdin looked at his hand, seeing it empty, and knocked the cap off his head in shock. Iago gave Jafar the lamp. 

“I’m sorry, Al,” Genie said. He disappeared and you and Jasmine fell through the air with a scream, landing in a clay pot which suddenly grew legs. 

“And now, I bid you all farewell. Attack!” Jafar said. He disappeared as two pots exploded behind them, revealing the front and back of a Heartless. Sora attacked the front head, and its antennae lit up with a burst of electricity. It swung them around wildly, striking Sora in the face. He reeled back as Aladdin searched around for you and Jasmine, who were desperately calling out for help among the clay pots. Several of the numerous pots had grown legs and were walking around the area toward the large Heartless. Sora watched as the Pot Spiders joined with the head and tail, becoming a Pot Centipede, which began to walk toward the desert, gathering more Pot Spiders and growing bigger. You and Jasmine’s cries became fainter and they ran after the Pot Centipede, searching for you and the princess within its body. As it raced away from them, its tail bursted with darkness. 

“Courage!” Sora said. He held a hand to his heart, summoning with all his might. He gathered energy on the end of his Keyblade and thrusted it into the air, magic swirling around him. Up from the ground came a large figure with glowing eyes. It stepped forward and its golden fur and large mane came into view. The lion gave off a mighty roar, which filled the air. Simba jumped toward the Pot Centipede and bellowed, sending various Pot Spiders shattering. When two pots were left, the Centipede gathered it up and started to run faster. Aladdin raced after it and with Sora’s help, the Pot Centipede was defeated. Aladdin ran at it, but it disappeared, leaving nothing. 

“Jasmine!” Aladdin said. 

“(Y/N)!” Sora said. They heard an evil laugh emanating from the desert.

“To the desert! Come on, let’s move!” Aladdin said. They took the Magic Carpet to the Desert. Suddenly, something burst out of the sand, spinning violently toward them. It landed two giant feet on the ground, clawing at carpet, who dodged frantically as Sora gritted his teeth. The four of them toppled out of the carpet as Kurt Zisa turned its six-armed body in their direction, summoning two orbs of energy in its hands. The orb canceled their magic summoning abilities and Sora moved in to attack its feet. As it walked closer to them, the mechanical crunch echoing through the desert, it stared at them with its snake-like head. Two of its other arms held long curved scythes, which was spinning wildly, slicing at them. Sora and Aladdin eliminated the magic-cancelling orbs and Donald sended a Thunder spell, sending it falling to the ground. It’s head reared up out of its body on a long elastic neck, attempting to bite them, before it jumped back up, summoning large dust devils, tossing sand everywhere. Goofy charged it with his shield, but missed as it spun through the air toward Sora. Donald healed him (that’s a first) as it sended fireballs toward them. With several more critical strikes, Kurt Zisa stumbled forward. They ran away from it as its arms crashed down in the sand around them. Aladdin summoned the Magic Carpet and it swooped down to grab them as the Heartless fell over completely. A large glowing heart rose up into the sky as they flew away towards the end of the desert, watching as the Heartless vanished in the distance. They reached the sandpit where they found Aladdin earlier and dismounted from the carpet. They stepped forward and the sand in front of them lurched upward. The ground quaked as an enormous tiger head heaved out of the sand. Its mouth opened, heat and flame emanating from its depths, and its eyes glowed. An evil glow, one of dark purpose. They approached its mouth before it reeled upward, blasting them with a hot torrent of sand. Heartless appeared and they realized the tiger head was under their control. Sora began thrashing at the Heartless before a beam of energy striked Aladdin in the back, knocking him over. Donald healed him and Sora saw that the beams were coming from its eyes. After he destroyed a few Heartless, the tiger head buried its mouth in the sand, and Sora jumped onto its nose, because it released a spray of sand from its mouth. Sora attacked its eyes before a Bandit Heartless flipped onto the top of the tiger, almost knocking Sora off. Goofy climbed up the side of the tiger head and shield Sora from more flying Heartless. Sora continued striking the eyes until the power of darkness was driven from the Cave of Wonders. Once everything settled down, they entered the cave. Fighting Heartless through the labyrinthine halls of the Cave of Wonders, they dropped down to a watery level and Sora destroyed a pillar with a Fire spell. Meanwhile, in the Lamp Chamber, Jafar stood next to an enslaved Genie as you and Jasmine laid unconscious on the stone floor. Jafar tapped his snake staff on the ground and held up the magic lamp. 

“My first wish, Genie! Show me the Keyhole!” Jafar said. Genie looked over, despondently, and snapped his fingers. The rock wall bursted open, revealing pillars and a Keyhole beyond. Jafar cackled evilly. Sora, Donald, Goofy, and Aladdin made their way past the Treasure Room and into the Lamp Chamber, where they found Jafar speaking with Maleficent. 

“That boy again?” she asked. 

“He’s more persistent than I expected. Why not explain the situation to that boy Riku? Doing so may actually prove useful to our--” Jafar said. He was distracted by footsteps, and turned to see Sora and company arrive. 

“Wait a second. Are you Maleficent?” Sora asked. The witch vanished without a word. 

“Jafar, let Jasmine go!” Aladdin said. 

“Not a chance,” Jafar said. You and Jasmine laid at his feet in front of the Keyhole. Sora noticed that you had an faint energy radiating off of you. 

“You see, she’s a princess—one of seven who somehow hold the key. And she is a spirit. The very last of her kind who can control time if she wanted to. Both of the them hold the power to opening the door,” Jafar said. 

“Open...” Donald said. 

“...the door?” Goofy asked. 

“But you fools won’t live to see what lies beyond it. Genie! My second wish. Crush them!” Jafar said. Aladdin gasped as Genie hung in the air. 

“Genie, no!” Aladdin said. 

“Sorry, Al. The one with the lamp calls the shots. I don’t have a choice,” Genie said. Jafar lifted his snake staff into the air, and its eyes glowed, creating a magic barrier around the room, blocking the exit and the Keyhole. Jafar began chanting a spell and he sent a beam of heat from his staff at them. Aladdin ran forward and attacked Jafar, who teleported to a platform on the other edge of the room as Genie floated toward them. 

“I’m really sorry about this. Run!” Genie said. He swiped at them, but they dodged his attacks and followed Jafar. Sora caught up and began thrashing with his Keyblade, causing Genie to cheer. Jafar chanted another spell, causing a giant hailstorm in the center of the room, trapping Donald and Goofy. Aladdin struck from behind while Jafar was distracted and the vizier pulsed with energy. Lightning crackled around him and he screamed. Sora and Aladdin ran over to you and Jasmine, but before they could reach you two, Jafar got an idea. 

“Genie!” he said. They turned to see Jafar floating in the center of the room, holding up the magic lamp. 

“My final wish! I want you to make me and all-powerful genie!” Jafar said. Genie covered his eyes and looked away, pointing his finger at Jafar and releasing as small amount of wish energy as possible. It struck Jafar, who began to glow and the floor crumbled beneath him, revealing a large pool of lava surrounding stone platforms. Jafar descended towards the pool and they stared down into the frightening, gaping maw. They jumped down into the cavern, searching around for Jafar, when suddenly he burst out of the lava with a great laugh. He gazed down at them evilly in his red genie form, brimming with power and malice. Iago flew by them, holding a coal black lamp.

“The lamp! Get Jafar’s lamp!” Aladdin said. 

“Iago! Keep the lamp away from them!” Jafar said. 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you!” Iago said. Jafar began throwing molten rocks at them as they went after Iago. 

“Nag, nag! It’s all he ever does!” Iago said. The air was dense with heat, making it hard to breathe. They cornered Iago on a faraway platform as Jafar rose up to meet them. Sora sent a Blizzara spell at him, bu he shrugged it off.

“Ugh! Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” Iago said. After attacking Iago for a while, the bird finally landed.

“Water! Water!” Iago said. He took back the lamp and continued flying around with it. The platforms rose higher, allowing them to knock the lamp away from the bird. It dropped to the ground and Sora grabbed it.

“Okay, Jafar! Back to your lamp!” he said. He held it up and Jafar screamed as magic whipped around him, pulling him into the magic lamp. You and Jasmine watched slowly from above, before hearing footsteps behind you two. The two of you turned around slowly and was taken. The magic carpet brought Sora, Donald, Goofy, and Aladdin back to the keyhole, but you and Jasmine were nowhere to be found.

“Jasmine? Jasmine!” Aladdin said

“(Y/N)!” Sora said. The Keyhole glowed in the presence of the Keyblade and a curtain of gold sparkles covered it with a loud locking sound. The cave began to rumble and Goofy covered his head with his shield.

“Jasmine!” Aladdin said. They pulled Aladdin onto the magic carpet and it sped them out of the Cave of Wonders. They flew back to Aladdin’s house.

“So, Jasmine and (Y/N) are no longer in Agrabah. Sora, let’s go find them. I know how much (Y/N) means to you,” Aladdin said.

“Sorry. I can’t take you with me,” Sora said sadly.

“Wh-Why not?” Aladdin asked as he sat down. 

“I sure wish we could...” Goofy said. 

“But we can’t. If we take him to another world, we would be...” Donald said.

“Muh... Mudd—”

“Meddling!” 

“Aladdin, we’ll find Jasmine. I promise,” Sora said. 

“Uh, earth to Al. Hello? You still have one wish left. Look, just say the word. Ask me to find Jasmine for you,” Genie said as he patted Aladdin’s back. 

“I...I wish...” Aladdin said. Genie rolled up his imaginary sleeves. 

“For your freedom, Genie,” Aladdin said. 

“Al!” Genie said surprised. Magic swirled around Genie, who’s smoky tail split into two legs, and the golden cuffs on his wrists disappeared. 

“A deal’s a deal, Genie. Now you can go anywhere you want. You’re your own master. But if you can, it’d be great if you could go along with them and help Sora find Jasmine and (Y/N),” Aladdin said. Genie turned away, crossing his arms. 

“Sorry, Al. I’m done taking orders from others. But... A favor, now that’s entirely different,” he said. He looked back at him, smiling brightly.

“I guess I could give that a try,” he said. He leaped over, putting a hand on Aladdin’s shoulder. 

“After all, we’re pals, right, Al?” he asked. 

“Genie...” Aladdin said. 

“Just leave it to me!” Genie said, smiling. Aladdin runs a hand through his hair and chuckles.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N). I’m coming,” Sora said.

To be continued...

[felassan]

 obscure elven heroes! appreciation. post

The Pale Demon: after Orlais conquered Halamshiral in 2:20 Glory and the Dales fell, one of the Keepers of the diaspora clans became infamous for his vicious attacks on Orlesians. humans came to know him as the Pale Demon, for he set upon soldiers and even unprotected merchants with iceblasts and blizzards from his staff, even in summer. these attacks continued until chevaliers killed the Keeper and then slaughtered his entire clan. the staff he bore was called Yavanalis (it’s curious to me incidentally, that Flemythal named one of her daughters Yavana - any connection? maybe the two words share the same root word in elven).

Wenni di Ladia: a City Elf from Nevarra, she was one of the most famous elven heroes from the Towers Age. directly descended from one of the last Emerald Knights who protected the Dales, she took up her grandfather’s bow, Tenasarin (any relation to the river Tenasir, where shrines to the elven gods stood?), to fight when the Third Blight threatened Thedas. her deeds, skill and beauty inspired entire armies, such that I don’t think it would be a stretch to say Wenni was one of the Heroes of the Third Blight. after the Archdemon was defeated, her name launched revolts and rebellions in the alienages, becoming a rallying cry - mien’harel! human Marcher rulers were angered by this, and Wenni was forced to flee criminal accusations. she vanished into obscurity, not unlike some Wardens in some of the potential epilogue slides, but her legend still lives on in the hearts of City Elves. this is very important, because in the City Elf Origin elven children playing “Heroes and Humans” will tell Tabris that they don’t know any stories about elven heroes. I like to believe that Wenni’s story is one that every elven child knows and takes great pride and solace in, just like Garahel’s is noted to be. 

Rajmael: a great general. the elves of the Dales fought valiantly against the Exalted March, but defeat became obvious. in one last act of defiance, Rajmael threw his dragonbone waraxe, The Veshialle, at the oncoming enemy before committing suicide by jumping from the Forlorn Falls. his weapon is said to rebel against all but elven hands. Rajmael may have been an Emerald Knight. a verse in the Chant of Light insists that he recanted his faith in the Creators, but we all know that’s human bullshit. curiously, his tale bears some similarity to that of Nomaris, one of the last Emerald Knights alive after the Dales were destroyed. he too bore an axe - the Axe of Green Edges. he lodged it in a tree, declaring that it should remain there until his People were free, before flinging himself into a river, presumably to his death.

Iloren: the Keeper of a Dalish clan that wandered the Anderfels during the Second Blight, in a time when Keepers were priests that served as archivists and magical scholars. he was a hunter in his younger days, and as crafty as a wolf. he led his people in their flight from the darkspawn horde, staying always one step ahead by the grace of his wits alone. one night, the darkspawn cornered and ambushed them. but the dark ones fell into Iloren’s trap. he and the other hahrens called upon the old magic, and with lightning set fire to dry grass and kindling that the hunters had strewn around the camp in preparation. the area went up in flames, and not a single creature made it through the blaze to harm his clan. today his tale is preserved in its most cherished form in books.

Willem Trialmont: a City Elf who followed a company of the Legion of the Dead for three days through the Deep Roads, doggedly intent on fighting darkspawn with his family blade - a fine elven sword which would later come to be known as Topsider’s Honor in light of his deeds. he was quiet but insistent; the dwarves, confused at why someone from the surface would care to combat darkspawn underground, initially thought that he wouldn’t last, and threatened to kill him if his actions put them at risk. but he shocked them, for later, they witnessed him fight like a man possessed, with incredibly light, silent strikes and marked precision. they toasted and broke bread with him, and when he died in 7:5 Storm, they extended that which was sacred to them and conveyed him to the Stone as if he’d been born a dwarf. his epitaph reads that he served the Deep Roads better than a native son. many Legionnaires lived to see another day because Willem fought at their side and fell in their place. in death, the dwarves lauded his honor and claimed him as a brother in blood. his story is one of true family beyond kin and taking up arms against darkness.

Alidda of Halamshiral: the most famous elven criminal in all of Orlais. a City Elf, she was arrested in 4:45 Black for killing three knights - a deed which hardly makes sense to pair with the word “crime”, as chevalier initiation practices involve “testing their blades” by entering alienage slums after dark to murder innocent elves who happen to be out after curfew. Divine Clemence I presided over Alidda’s trial, where it came to light that she had actually killed twelve chevaliers, in justified retaliation for the abhorrent graduation ritual. she escaped and killed twenty more chevaliers - two in single combat - before finally being cornered. rather than be captured, she cut her throat with Knightslayer, her own dagger.

Orahn: A Dalish smith known to have created fine weapons such as the Dal’Thanu waraxe that was an heirloom in the possession of Deygan’s family. His grandfather passed it down to him. Family legend holds that it was used to fight in the service of Andraste herself, meaning Orahn may have been a contemporary of Shartan.

Corimae: Presumably a City Elf, she owned a beautiful dagger called the Voice of Velvet. She was an assassin - possibly an Antivan Crow? - and when a nobleman refused to take her as a lover, she used the dagger to open his throat.

Sendis and Iselle: A Dalish archer and blood mage respectively, this brother and sister pair were part of a band of heroes that saved the Free Marcher city of Kaiten, having aided Viscount Ravi in preventing an abomination from destroying the place. Their clan was led by Keeper Tianne. Over time Iselle and Ravi became lovers, and she eventually died bearing their elf-blooded son Eiton. Sendis later saved his clan from blood magic control by calling on Ravi for help.

Embri of Gwaren: A City Elf, she was a mage, though unfortunately one of limited talent. Testament to her brave spirit and selfless desire to help, Embri volunteered of her own volition to be made Tranquil. As a Tranquil she proved to be a skilled enchanter, despite her absent-mindedness. She always kept an array of magical herbs and other ingredients at her belt, and eventually the belt itself came to hold magical properties. Embri died of lyrium poisoning.

Temolai: A skilled craftsman who made The Long Sight, a helm which grants a strange and unnerving acuity. He made one more helm better than it, but that helm allowed him to gaze upon the Black City, and he was lost forever.

Korin: An elven king, from a tall tale Tabris can tell children in the Denerim Alienage.

Tathas: A sneaky elven bandit, from a tall tale Tabris can tell children in the Denerim Alienage.

Blargha: A mighty elven warrior, from a tall tale Tabris can tell children in the Denerim Alienage.

[vaxieon]

BL3 - Perspective pt.1

Part 2: Lilith and her Struggle

Everyone and their mother did one of these but fuck it I’m going to do a fairly long listing of how I personally see the writing in this game. This is going to be going back through all of the games and what I gathered from playing them/looking through the lore. This is probably going to be multi-part so I can be more comprehensive on each subject.

Keeping it under a readmore so nobody has to struggle to pass this post 👍

The “First” Vault Hunter

Honestly this is one of the biggest problems I see with BL3. I don’t know how many other people addressed it but the idea of adding Typhon really threw a blanket over the entirety of BL1. There was a HUGE importance on the original VH being the first real successful ones in a field that wouldn’t gain anything beyond fantasy until they proved it to be true. The entire game builds this up from beginning to end where the player really feels the effects of how massive an event like this is to the parties invested in the glory of obtaining what’s within. By tossing Typhon and what we understand of him in BL3, it not only rends the legacy of the original VH obsolete but it riddles the story with more questions than answers. The mistakes that both Atlas and Dahl made were because nobody knew anything about the phenomenon, it was rightfully alien in that retrospect, as it was supposed to be.

In the original events of Borderlands (and moving into BL2), Tannis alone was renowned for her knowledge on the vault, her hefty title weighing a lot of danger over her head. Dahl had abandoned her as well as many others when they pulled out of Pandora, causing a massive loss of life and creating bandit hordes out of those who survived. Tannis herself had went partially insane through it all, sticking with her small camp in the eridian ruins, dedicating herself fully in her work to prove all of this suffering wasn’t for nothing. This is recorded sporadically in echo logs left by her, detailing her days starting from 1 to 718 (which you can listen to here). Thypon feels like an insult to this, saying that it was merely being “smart” that got him where he was. BL3 even going to far as to make him famous for it and in turn making Tannis’s work all just to follow in the footsteps of someone she never even met.

Outside of this, the idea of someone being so immensely famous with the positive connotations of being a “genius” springing into that fame only until the 3rd game in the series is just...bad. You can’t put a figure from the past to such huge importance late into a story, it has a lot of continuity error with it and in the end makes the character reveal just underwhelming and confusing. There’s simply not enough time within the game’s story to create enough attachment to fit the years of fame you’ve built up for a character that existed only for what could be a couple of months in-game time. Really what would have fit better was to have the importance of the first game’s VH extend to that amount of fame, especially with Lilith’s position of living up to everyone else’s expectations. (I’ll go over my thoughts with Lilith in a later post)

Don’t get me wrong, I feel like if done correctly Typhon could have been an interesting take in the series but only if done subtly and honestly with respect to other characters. He’s not a very likable character mostly because of how he was written, visually I don’t mind the joke of his model or even the voice acting (although personally I’m not a fan). But in general he doesn’t have much to give to the VH in the game, makes nothing but jokes, and as most distasteful reduces the importance of his wife to nothing but sex. Really with how we’ve seen Pandora and it’s universe portrayed, it doesn’t even make much sense as to why anyone would care enough to merchandise his likeness when he didn’t work under a corporation to begin with. If anything, having Typhon be the one who passed and creating Leda as the one to chronicle out her knowledge would have been more impactful on the plot. 

I will elaborate on the eridians later on, but in canon the original VH were the ones who really had to fight through them in order to get to where they needed for the Destroyer. That alone should have added to their own mythos, topping off wiping Atlas rule off of Pandora until the events of BL3, which is an impressive feat given the power they had. Roland took this a step further by absorbing the Crimson Lance, re-branding them into the Crimson Raiders and using them to fight against corporate control. Sure Roland at least had some form of fame in the form of a statue, but this was the only thing he was given. Putting him along with Typhon, really what did Typhon accomplish that was worth more to citizens of Pandora than Roland, who actually lived among them? The original VH were only 4 who took on the equivalent of two armies and while it may have been in pursuit of higher riches, they evolved beyond that after seeing what a Vault could be.

I could probably ramble on forever about this particular topic but needless to say the title of “first” vault hunter is such an odd thing to throw in several games (and vaults) in. On a chronological note, Tannis should have held that title if it was to be given in the 3rd game, a note to her scientific achievements regardless on if she realized it or not. But if we’re being more realistic on who that fame would be given to by myth and legend, I just don’t see why it would be the BL1 VH. Typhon ends up being more of a half-hearted attempt at creating an OC and writing it in as important rather than actually being important.