#he’s far too well adjusted and stable compared to my other characters. EVEN knowing all i know about how chaotic his character can be
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i love break-up fantasies, infidelity fantasies, arguments/fights fantasies, all my top top faves. and it’s so so difficult to imagine garrus fitting into any of them.
#i’m half assedly shaking my fist at him bcos if he were any different i wouldn’t love him as much as i do. but i would love to use those#tropes on him. but they .. just don’t fit his character.#there’s no way he’d fool around with you when you’re dating someone else. he’s noble as well as jealous. if y’all broke up he’d never#bother you again. he’d wish you well and block your number and never ever message you again even if he wants to#arguments/fights are never yelling matches. only frustrated words#taking a break from each other and then coming back to it when you’re both calm#he’s far too well adjusted and stable compared to my other characters. EVEN knowing all i know about how chaotic his character can be#ch: garrus#garrus vakarian thought
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Cloudwalker Series Part 21
Did I whump the beans? Yes, am I sorry? No. I like this one and there’s a lot of oofs.
Warnings: Descriptions of wounds, blood, blood magic/rituals, panicked characters, being restrained while a loved one gets whumped.
Masterlist Here
Approx WC: 2600
Dyan’s scream was enough to startle the horses in their stable some distance away. In that moment, he didn’t care. “Blue!” Dyan rushed towards him and dropped down beside him, not caring about his own pain that jarred his body from the sudden impact.
Avizon limped over to him and knelt down carefully. Blue was laying face down, so Avizon quickly checked his pulse. “He’s still alive. Help me with him.” He and Dyan hadn’t even been able to turn him over before Orrien arrived, panting for breath and wide eyes. Dyan guessed it was because he’d screamed. But seeing him so panicked did nothing for Dyan’s fear.
“Blue! Get back, Dyan, let me through,” Orrien ordered. Dyan could only obey, shuffling back as fast as he could until his back hit the wall and even then he tried to go back another inch. He couldn’t stop staring in shock. He whimpered. He wanted to hold Blue, to help, but there was nothing he could do. He had to hope these humans could do enough. If he lost Blue… No, no he couldn’t lose his friend.
He watched as Orrien turned Blue over with care, supporting his head. Dyan noted Blue’s sickly complexion, the way his chest barely rose and fell. Orrien swore, and Dyan soon saw why. The bite mark the other cloudwalker had left. It looked… well, he didn’t even know what could cause such a thing. It was dark and looked painful. It was like a burnt piece of wood.
“That’s dark magic,” Avizon said almost immediately. “How on Earth has he gotten dark magic in him?! The other cloudwalker? But they’re creatures of light.” Blue coughed feebly and Orrien tensed, seeing ink-black liquid escape the corner of his mouth. They quickly adjusted him, turning him on his side. Orrien gently stroked his hair before he seemed to realise it. He grimaced.
“This isn’t just dark magic, this is something else, stronger… this is evil, pure evil. An abyss compared to your magic.”
Avizon suddenly threw his head up to stare at Dyan with wide eyes for a moment. It was like he’d realised something. He rushed over to Dyan which made him squeak and cower in the corner. He couldn't help but panic. He expected master to be mad, to hit him because he’d failed to protect Blue and this was all his fault. This was all his fault and he was going to get punished- he deserved to be punished!
“I’m sorry!” he cried, bracing, which yanked Avizon back like he was on a rope. “What? Dyan, you don’t need to be sorry, please come here. We don’t have the time, I’m sorry little bird, I have to make sure you’re-”
“Take the time,” Orrien instructed. “Dyan, what are you sorry for? Do you know what happened?” Dyan whimpered. “I. I don’t know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t save him and keep him safe. I’m sorry p.please don’t be mad. I tried so hard, please...” Avizon sighed softly and wiped a tear out of Dyan’s eye. Dyan braced again, but Avizon simply began to remove one of his bandages, hushing him gently. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad, but you were bitten too, and I need to make sure you’re not hurting like that. I’m sorry for startling you. We have to act fast, that’s all. Dyan, I could never punish you for something like that.”
Dyan whimpered and Avizon mumbled reassurances in a bid to quickly calm him. The bandages came away to reveal Dyan’s bite mark, seeing darkness at the edges of the puncture wounds, but it was nothing compared to Blue’s. “It seems Dyan’s magic is protecting him enough…” “Blue also got bit first,” Orrien said. “It could be a number of things.”
Avizon grimaced, taking a moment to cup Dyan’s cheek to give him comfort. Dyan leaned into it and whimpered, craving it. He was just so scared. “We have to find that cloudwalker. I need to understand how this came about, how it happened. Until then, the best I can do is try to absorb this magic.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Orrien retorted. “That’s far too dangerous.” Dyan couldn’t believe how Orrien spoke to Avizon. It didn’t feel right seeing and hearing his master not being in charge.
Avizon simply shrugged. “I’ve done worse, and Blue needs me to take that risk. Another way is to burn it out with light magic, perhaps, but it will take a lot and could kill him. I should be able to take it without risk-”
Orrien exclaimed, “And it will make you a cruel bastard again. That magic is so strong it might not let you give it up. Avizon, I can’t let you!” “If you’d let me finish, I can store it, trap it into something. I will be able to get rid of it, my magic is strong, and darkness loves to spread. It will go to a new host. I can’t let these birds die!”
Dyan whimpered and curled up in his wings. His fear was bubbling in his chest. Master was scared, he’d panicked Dyan already and now he was saying they could die… this was too much for him to process all at once. Avizon swore, realising his mistake. “It’s going to be alright, Dyan. I’m sorry, don’t be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you. But I need your help, we have to find that cloudwalker, I won’t keep him, I won’t hurt him, but I have to understand what happened.”
Dyan nodded slowly, trying to fight all that fear back for now. He had to help Blue. His own panic wasn’t important right now. “Um… I. I don’t know how I can help.” “Call for help, see if you can get him to come here,” Avizon answered.
Dyan bit his lip, but went outside to do as his master asked. He hoped he didn’t get attacked again. His hands were shaking, and it felt wrong of him to do such a thing, to trick a cloudwalker, but for Blue, he’s do anything, and he trusted his master to not hurt him.
He called out, once, twice, three times. He was surprised to find Ihuka rushing towards him, but then he paused, seeing that Dyan wasn’t in any danger.
“We have to talk to the cloudwalker,” Dyan said quickly. “Blue is dying, we have to talk to them and find a way!" He decided to leave out the fact he could be next.
Ihuka nodded and called out, which was far louder and better than Dyan’s. Dyan eventually stopped, letting Ihuka do the work until finally, finally, the cloudwalker appeared. Dyan tensed and couldn't help but step back in fear. “What do you want?” he hissed. His black hair was still long, but the shackle scars on his wrists made it clear he had not been free all his life. His eyes carried an unnatural reddish grow which made Dyan feel uneasy.
Dyan opened his mouth to speak, but Avizon had grabbed the cloudwalker with his powers. He shrieked and tried to get away but Avizon was not letting him go. He dragged him into the barn, restrained, and forced him to kneel in front of Blue, seeing the damage he had left behind by attacking the innocent lad as Orrien would call him.
“How do you have this magic?” Avizon asked, he looked at Dyan and nodded as a prompt for him to translate. Dyan did so. “The same reason that everything we are is broken!” the cloudwalker shrieked. “Humans! Hurting us, separating us, using horrible magic on us that makes our venom black and stops us hunting and makes us starve! Humans destroy EVERYTHING!”
Dyan trembled but still translated it word for word and Avizon frowned. “Someone is corrupting you?... what is the name of this human? Please, we want to help.”
Dyan translated again and added a plea. He cared about Blue. He didn't want to lose him. These were good humans, they could help, they could protect them or maybe even stop the human. The cloudwalker snarled, but all the same, he screwed up his face.“B.Boruk?... Borg...”
Avizon didn’t need to hear anymore. He clenched his fist. “Borgurk… I should have known!” he ground out. “Keep your head,” Orrien warned.
Avizon went to the back of his cart and found a small glass vial. “Don’t be afraid, I just need to see your venom,” he said to the cloudwalker. The cloudwalker bared his teeth, but Avizon only used that as a means of getting the vial under his canine. “Shhhhh, it’s alright. I’m going to help you.” Dyan couldn't believe how fearless Avizon was being. To just walk up to the cloudwalker that had come close to killing Blue and himself.
Avizon began to gently massage a spot on the back of the cloudwalkers jaw, under his ear until it whined and several droplets of black liquid began to appear. “Orrien, see if that liquid is coming from Blue's teeth.” Orrien carefully opened Blue’s mouth to look. “No, it’s the back of his throat. Southern cloudwalkers have venom glands, but they're not actually usable. He can't make venom. This is different, it must be in his organs..."
Avizon kept working, coaxing more venom out, but he knew he was playing with time, something Blue was rapidly running out of. Dyan didn’t understand why he needed the venom when Blue was laying on the floor dying, but he trusted him. Avizon looked up at the cloudwalker and paused, seeing their eyes, seeing the redness.
"Don’t tell me… Fire fever… you're running out of light magic- it's killing you,” he exclaimed to the creature who only glared at him. “Being a cloudwalker must protect you from most of the symptoms. The dark magic is going bad, rotting, it's killing him- that's why Blue is in such a bad way. It's magic decay!"
Avizon looked over to Ihuka, “Bring me some eggs. Eggs, Ihuka.” Ihuka nodded quickly and disappeared. Dyan had taught him what eggs were during their stay. Dyan was now very glad he did.
Dyan inched over to Avizon and said "W.what's magic decay?"
Avizon spared a glance to Dyan and began to explain. "Dark magic isn't meant to be in a human- or a cloudwalker. It rots, and it can kill whoever is using it if it's not used and managed properly. When it's not used, it becomes physical; it becomes like a magic infection. It's killing this cloudwalker and he doesn't know it. It's infected his venom, so when he bit Blue, it passed on a lot of that 'infection' to him… and onto you."
Dyan gulped. He didn't like this at all, he didn't want to die, he didn't want Blue to die.
"It's going to be alright, Dyan, I swear. I'm not letting you go," Avizon promised. “I will fix this no matter what it takes.”
Once he had enough of the venom, he put the cork on it and looked at a cut Dyan had given the bird the day before. It was still bleeding. That would do. Ihuka returned with the eggs, and Avizon managed to get him to put them on the floor beside him. “Eggs… Avizon, you’ve gone mad.” “Oh, I went mad a long time before this. Orrien, make sure everyone keeps their distance. I have an idea.”
Orrien picked Blue up and carried him up to the back of the barn. Ihuka and Dyan followed.
Avizon looked down at the scared bird in front of him and hushed him before he closed his eyes and put his hand over the bleeding wound. Dyan stared with wide eyes as he mumbled and drew what looked like black smoke out of the cloudwalkers body. The cloudwalker screamed in pain but Avizon didn't stop. He kept pulling, dragging more and more smoke out of him.
Dyan wanted to turn away but he was frozen in place, staring as Avizon drew it all out. Avizon’s eyes were red, cherry red and blood slipped down his cheeks from his eyes. Dyan whimpered and watched as Avizon took the egg in one hand and wiped the blood from his cheek with one finger. He drew a symbol on the egg with the blood and then groaned in pain. The smoke that was swirling around Avizon slowly went into the egg, which caused Avizon pain.
Finally, it was done, and the egg now looked like a lump of coal. Avizon looked exhausted and the cloudwalker had fallen unconscious. Avizon released the bird from his power and set him down on a pile of straw to sleep it off.
"By the gods, Avizon…" Orrien mumbled, staring in half shock, half horror. "Blood magic now as well…"
"I know… I'm not proud of it, but if it saves him, then I'll do what I must. Eggs work temporarily, as a means of getting the power out into a container. But they don’t last. You need to destroy them anyway so it won’t be a problem."
Avizon picked up an egg and staggered over to Blue and knelt down.
"Same again." He took another egg that Ihuka had brought and put it by his side. "I need him to bleed. A small cut will do it. Here."
Orrien took his knife from his belt and with a grimace nicked at Blue's skin right by the bite mark, drawing a slightly heavier breath from Blue's sleeping body. Blood began to trickle, and then Orrien stepped back, keeping the birds back.
"Mind Dyan," Avizon warned in advance before he began to draw out the darkness.
Dyan shook as he watched Avizon cause pain to Blue. Even if it was saving him, he hated seeing it. Blue cried out, somehow dragged into consciousness. Avizon ignored how he tried to bite and scratch him out of instinct. He held firm, clenching his teeth til he thought they'd break.
Dyan's body acted before he could stop himself. He lunged forward but Orrien was quick and wrapped him in a tight hug from behind. "No, Dyan! It has to happen. I know it's awful, but it has to happen. Stay strong, lad."
Dyan tried to drown out the screams, not even realising he’d started to cry until there was suddenly silence. Avizon finally had it all. Blue dropped down motionless again. Dyan wanted to get to him, but he was surprised when Ihuka stood in front of him and opened his wings, cutting off his vision.
"Dyan… stay," he said weakly. “Rest.”
Dyan shrunk down onto his knees and cried. He hated this! He just wanted to get to Blue. He wanted to hold him and see if he was okay and offer him comfort, but Orrien still held him.
He tried to push past them again, but Orrien clamped a hand on his forehead. "Sleep."
Dyan clenched his teeth and battled against the spell. He didn't know how he did it, he just couldn't sleep right now. He found the strength in him to resist the order and he fought it with everything he had.
Orrien tried again but Dyan was determined. "Let me get to him," he ground out. "I… I have to…" "How strong is your magic?! Sleep!" Orrien strained.
This time Dyan wasn't quite able to hold off against the massive wave that took over him but he tried all the same. He slowly succumbed to sleep despite his efforts to stay awake. He reached out for Blue and whimpered before everything faded away.
Ftr if the whole magic thing didn’t make sense I’d be happy to explain it or answer any questions. I have those ask games open still too.
#Cloudwalker series#whump#tw:blood#okay so the story went NYOOM in an upwards direction in terms of drama#Dyan#Blue#Avizon#Orrien#Ihuka
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(9) Xiaoge seeing Wu Xie and his pals pull up: god FUCKIGN dammit im going to have to spend all day saving these assholes again Wu Xie better make the 😳 face at me again or I'm going to disappear mysteriously and never be seen again
truly tho what IS going through xiaoge’s face when all this be happening.
ur last sentence >o>;;;;;;;
--
unrelated but. i am truly so eager for the whiplash u will experience when adjusting to the next very-different xiaoge as far as like emotional vulnerability. but also like what ur opinion would be
also ur judgement of tlt2′s wu xie which. on the one hand i think nails the ‘young naive charismatic dumb bastard kitten’ of young wu xie well. but on the other hand sort of suffers the most prominently of All Show Wu Xie’s of like... show pressures to make protagonists ‘morally good.’ Just in the sense that like.. TLT1 wu xie is to fresh into tomb raiding to have much time to show morals either way, he’s in too much danger. and older wu xie iterations have more sour depressed personality moments from getting worn down over the years, so they feel truer to book wu xie a bit.
meanwhile tlt2 wu xie is mostly like correct-young-wu xie vibes. and he still be committing crimes lol. but like just blatantly its clear compared to pangzi and xiaoge he’s more ‘morally’ motivated. whereas in the books - im not done with book 1 yet to be fair - but like wu xie doesn’t really conciously think ‘ill commit this crime to help X!’. Book wu xie more is like ‘yeah this crime is just what u gotta do in this business’ and then later ‘oh this bastards dying - im gonna jump down and help, oh im dying now too.’ cause like he’s motivated to help people but its not like, any particular bright loud heroism thing. its just an instinct/something he just innately does. whereas in tlt2 i feel like they did to wu xie what the did to wei wuxian in the Untamed - tried to smooth away and change any characterization pieces that seemed more ‘morally grey’ even tho overall Both characters in their respective books are generally heroic good characters. just like, the shows try to push them just a bit more into ‘unquestionably nobly good at most times’ when i think the actual characters are a bit... more chill than that.
just... ignore my whole rant about the wu xie character... idk what im talking about... honestly tlt2 trio is probably my fave... ( i love Reboot’s actors but they split up the trio so muchhhh, also like each drama is in a different ‘character growth’ stage of them and them as a trio, and tlt2 hits my sweet spot for ‘literally finally getting to know each other and bond’ - whereas Reboot is ‘already stable family’ which is comforting but not like visually what makes me go !!!oohhh whats goin on!!!)
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Sing For Me
Summary: Johnny gets to hear you sing for the very first time.
Pairing: Idol!Johnny X female reader
Genre: flufff, comedy?
Warning: none
Word Count: 2.7K
(This was requested by an anon a long time ago 😖 I’m sorry but I hope you like it! The musical I chose was Les Misérables)
[6:30 P.M]
Only thirty minutes until showtime and you were still shaking like a wet dog in a bathtub.
Johnny would hear you sing for the first time tonight, and while you never got nervous for your performances, you were for this one. You wondered what he would think of your singing, after all, he was an idol.
Idols were trained to be perfect and nothing less, and you couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t nearly as prepared as he was. You trained for just as many years as he did, but what you went through still didn’t compare to what he experienced.
It’s why you never let him hear you, why you always sang quietly in the shower. What if the one you loved ended up being your most critical spectator? You’d be embarrassed.
A vibration from your phone interrupted your thoughts. Your makeup artist was applying the finishing touches on your under eye concealer and your hair stylist took the pins out of your wig and sprayed it with a little hair spray. They were cleaning up the station after you thanked them and started to scroll through Twitter when the text came through.
Johnny: Look up.
Your eyes flashed up to the large mirror in front of you and you saw him standing behind you with a bright smile.
“Johnny!” You jumped up and turned to hug him.
He held you tightly in his large arms as you hugged his back and pulled him closer to you. He was so warm and soft, you forgot about how nervous you were for a few seconds.
“15 Minutes until showtime!! Everyone, I need you in position in 5 minutes!! Lets put on a good show tonight!” The stage manager yelled out over the intercom and it dawned on you that it was almost time.
You pulled back and looked up into Johnny’s eyes.
“How did you get back here?” You asked.
“Come on, who would turn away a guy with this face?” Johnny teased and pointed to his glowing face, one that you never got tired of seeing. You saw him for the first time in months the day before when he flew in.
He was in town for his tour with NCT 127 and decided to attend your show. He couldn’t wait to show you off to the boys, he was so proud of you and it only added to the pressure that you were feeling.
You laughed and hit his chest lightly to cover your nervousness.
“How are you feeling?” Johnny held both arms and pulled you close to him. “You look nervous.”
Shoot. You weren’t covering it well.
You shook your head and smiled while you looked into his eyes which darted back and forth from your hair to your eyes and your dress.
“I’m fine..actually, no, I’m so nervous babe” you finally got it out.
With all the madness backstage, all the people running round and trying to do last minute outfit try ons and makeup adjustments, you could only focus on him. His eyes, which were of the deepest brown, and how his long lashes brought them out even more, his silky skin and his fluffy, pink lips, it all made him perfect.
He furrowed his brows. “Why? Don’t be. You’re amazing!! Have you seen the reviews? You’re all they talk about.” Johnny raised his hands to put them on the sides of your head but you pulled back.
“Makeup.” You shook your head and laughed.
“my bad.” He said as he grinned and held your waist.
You smiled. “I know, it’s just, it’s the first you’re gonna see me perform. You AND the boys. What if I croak? What if I fall?” You mumbled on.
Johnny shook his head. “None of that is gonna happen. And if it does? So what. You’ve seen us fall on our asses.” You both laughed out.
“I’m so proud of you, you’re gonna kill it!”
You smiled and your eyes watched Johnny as he held you close. His touch was calming, you felt like you could stay there with him forever.
“10 MINUTES, Y/N! MY STAR CHILD, WHERE ARE YOU?” The director yelled out and you jumped.
“I’ve gotta go” You looked at Johnny’s lips.
“Can I get a kiss before you go?” Johnny tiled his head and looked down at your ruby red lips.
“Makeup.” You said but Johnny still tried to pull you in. You pushed him away and laughed.
“Just a little peck. I won’t mess it up” he teased and reached out again. You giggled and ran around the chair to dodge his kiss.
“Sir! It’s time for you to leave” one of the assistants approached Johnny.
“Ok!” He pouted. You laughed and hugged him before he looked down at you and into your eyes again.
“I love you.”
You smiled. “I love you too.”
He grinned and walked away, but before he opened the door to the hall he turned back to you, “break a leg.” He winked.
You scoffed. This fool.
You laughed to yourself and turned to the mirror. You took a deep breath. You weren’t shaking anymore as Johnny’s visit did calm you down a bit.
——————
When the lights turned on, you squinted and looked out into the crowd for him. You didn’t have to look very far as he and the rest of the boys occupied the entire second row.
Of course he reserved the entire row. That doesn’t make me nervous at all.
You thought to yourself as you quickly moved about the stage and continued on with your lines.
When the other actors sang, you tried to stay in character while glimpsing into the crowd to see their reactions.
Johnny gave you a wide smile when he caught your eyes and mouthed “you’re amazing, I love you.” He nodded and you tried your best not to blush right there on stage during a sad scene, so you glanced down.
Now the time had come for your dramatic solo.
You were so nervous for them to finally hear you for the first time, you kept yourself from looking in their direction. Instead, you looked up at the balcony and focused on the words and your breathing.
“There was a time..”
Breathe.
“Then it all went wrong.”
Breathe. Close eyes.
You were so worried, your voice started to shake a bit.
Take a deep breath.
You’ve done this many times before. Don’t choke up.
You could already hear your voice teacher scolding you for hours after the show.
You closed your eyes, pulled yourself together and finally sang out loud. You were here for a reason, and you were talented, many people agreed on this. You just needed to remind yourself of who you are.
“I dreamed a dream in times gone by.”
Yes.
“When hope was high and life worth living.”
Good.
But as you went further along into the song, you just had to see his reaction.
You looked at Johnny, whose gentle smile made you feel warm and more confident; in your head you were smiling too, but you had to focus.
Doyoung and Taeil’s eyes were wide as you sang the high notes with full vibrato and superb diction.
Yuta and Taeyong watched in amazement as well.
You were fake crying as you continued on with the song, but you still managed to see their reactions through your watery eyes.
And Haechan..well. You weren’t sure if he was sleeping or not. And you couldn’t blame him really, he was so tired from the tour, and the musical did have some boring scenes.
Jaehyun smiled and nodded his head when you looked down at him.
You could tell that they were stunned by your vocals and you silently thanked the gods for gaining approval from NCT, a vocally powerful and stable group in itself.
“Now life has killed the dream...I dreamed.” You quietly sang your last line and looked at Johnny while the piano closed the song.
He wiped a tear away and you felt your heart break. Your solo touched him. He thought you were beautiful before he heard you sing, but now, he truly believed that you were an angel on earth.
Your voice was velvety and intoxicating, you sang dynamically and without any stress. It was so easy for you to get the meaning of the song across to the audience. Your artistry and passion was unlike anything he had ever seen.
He just couldn’t get your enchanting voice out of his head, and he didn’t want to. He wanted to hear you sing forever.
Thankfully, being the superb actress you are, you held back your smile while the lights stayed on you.
When the piano stopped, the house clapped and cheered loudly for you, however, you still had to stay in character for just a few seconds. Johnny stopped crying and donned a bright smile.
He put his large hands together to clap for you and shouted out loudly.
He jumped up and you wanted to laugh so badly at the 6’1 giant sticking out of the second row.
Oh my God, I love this big softie, how did I get so lucky?
All you could do was be thankful for the dimming lights. You couldn’t hold back your red cheeks and laughter much longer. The rest of the boys all jumped up and cheered for you along with Johnny, but you had to run off stage while the crew got it ready for the next scene.
———————
You were beyond relieved when the curtain closed and the show ended.
You ran backstage, threw your wig off and changed into your jeans, a t shirt, and a large jean jacket that Johnny let you borrow (not really, it was his but he’s your boyfriend so all of his jackets and hoodies are yours too).
You ran out to the front of the venue and looked around for the tall, handsome man.
You couldn’t find him after searching through all sides of the venue.
Some attendees recognized you and congratulated you. Some stopped you to say how beautiful your voice was and you quickly thanked them, but you couldn’t focus. You smiled and nodded, but you could only think about the one person you wanted to see and hear a ‘great job’ from.
You looked down at your cell phone and saw that you didn’t have any missed calls or new text messages.
What if they already left? What if management had to hurry them away and take them back to the hotel so they could practice for tomorrow’s concert?
You frowned as reality kicked in. You couldn’t ask for much time from Johnny. NCT was always on tour, their management was extremely strict, and there was always some event in their schedule; it was impossible to get time with Johnny, and you had to come to terms with that. You two just couldn’t be a ‘regular’ couple.
You unlocked your phone and went to call Johnny, but you stopped, your thumb hovering over his contact name, ‘One and Only.’
You locked your phone and put it away. You didn’t want to worry or bother him.
As you were about to walk away, you felt a large arm wrap around your waist and turn you around. You face collided with a large chest as the man pulled you towards him, but you relaxed and smiled when you smelled his familiar scent. You wrapped your arms around the familiar body.
“Hey baby.” You said quietly.
“You were...amazing.” Johnny kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. He held out a large bouquet of roses.
You grinned and took them. “Oh wow! They’re beautiful, thank you.”
“Why have you never sung for me?? How was I supposed to know you have a voice like that?” Johnny looked down at you through large eyes.
You laughed. “I’m sorry..I was just..nervous. I thought..maybe I’m not good enough.”
Johnny furrowed his brows. “Are you kidding me? Baby, I’ve heard many people sing but no one has ever sounded as astounding as you do.”
You smiled. “Thank you, Johnny, that means...a lot actually.”
He pouted as he looked down at you, the lights from the signs outside of the theatre made his honey brown eyes glisten.
“I’m kinda offended that you hid your talent from me.”
You laughed and looked at his lips.
“Oh really? How can I make it up to you?”
He smiled wide and revealed his perfect teeth and dimply chin that you loved to place small kisses on. “I need you to sing for me..for everything.. sing while I shower, sing while I cook..as a matter of fact... you have to only sing hello and goodbye to me..you can sing thank y-“
You stopped him by reaching up to his face and placing a kiss on his satiny lips.
You closed your eyes and melted into his lips while he turned his head and kissed back. He kissed you for what felt like ages before pulling away and licking his lips.
“I’ve missed you.” He said in a deep and quiet voice.
You heard someone behind him clear their throat.
You looked and saw that the boys were standing right behind Johnny, they giggled and yelled as Johnny turned to confront them.
“Hey! What���s so funny?” Johnny went to grab Mark who was laughing hard as he bent over and held onto Jungwoo for support.
“you’re face..you’re all googly-eyed..” Mark mocked Johnny’s deep voice. “you were all like ‘I’ve missed you baby’.”
Johnny stuck his tongue in his jaw and gave him a look of annoyance.
“I’m gonna b—“ Johnny started towards Mark as he raised a hand up high, but was interrupted by Jaehyun who stepped towards you.
“You’re crazy talented y/n. Thank you for letting us see your show. It was beautiful” Jaehyun gave you a hug and the others joined in as they cheered for you again.
Yuta held your hand and smiled “Can I get your autograph?” You both laughed.
You blushed and thanked them, but the manager called them over and told them that they’d have to leave soon.
You and Johnny walked away from the group to have one last moment together before you saw him again the next day.
“So...you shed a tear huh?” You teased Johnny while the two of you held hands and walked slowly down the illuminated streets nearby.
“Let’s..not talk about that” Johnny laughed and held his head down.
“I wish you could stay with me tonight.” You said while he traced his thumb over your hand.
You leaned your head against his arm.
“I know..I wish I could stay with you and listen to your beautiful voice all night.” Johnny frowned, but put his arm over your shoulder. “Your voice..really touched me baby.”
“Thank you..I’m happy you think I’m good.” You smiled up at him.
He stopped and turned you so that you could face him.
“You’re more than just ‘good.’ You’re unbelievable in every way.” Johnny’s eyes creased at the sides as he smiled. He leaned down and gave your lips another kiss. He pulled away. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you baby...we should head back before they send the FBI to take you away from me.” You squeezed his hand and kissed his soft, round lips. You only wanted to give them a light peck, but he held your face and opened your mouth with his tongue.
You closed your eyes and turned your head to allow his tongue to trace over your red lips while wrapping your arms around his neck.
You silently laughed when you thought of how much teasing he’d get once he went back to the boys with smeared red lipstick all over his face.
His hands held your waist as he pulled your body closer to his and the two of you continued to make out on the sidewalk.
You both missed this feeling, this embrace that was so familiar, yet so rare.
Johnny pulled away and placed one last kiss on your forehead. He looked down at you and bit his bottom lip.
“You’re lucky you look good in my jacket, I’ve been searching for it for ages.”
You both laughed and started to walk back.
#nct 127#nct 127 johnny#nct au#nct johnny au#johnny suh#nct johnny#johnny seo#johnny imagine#johnny oneshot#nct 127 fluff#nct one shot#nct oneshot#nct fluff#nct imagine#nct imagines#nct#nct reactions#nct 127 au#nct scenario#nct scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 imagine#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 reactions#nct 127 oneshot#kpop fluff#kpop imagines#kpop oneshot#kpop drabbles#nct drabbles
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Scenic Route 34/47
Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774
Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147
***
Rey sat in the grass, contemplating the decision she had to make. The car was ready. BB8 was chasing crickets around. Right now, almost no one knew her location on the remote campground. But she couldn’t stay there forever. She was furious at Ben...but somehow she couldn’t forget about the night they had spent together. Just thinking about it sent shivers down her spine.
No, she had to act rationally.
It was a mistake to let Leia and Ben take advantage of her. She had been too rash, too trusting for her own good. She didn’t doubt Syed’s intentions; she had also seen Skylar’s brutality with her own eyes. And something told her they wouldn’t be fooled by bear spray twice. She wished she had been even firmer with Ben that it was his responsibility to reign in the lunatics on his team...
But the doubts crept in. What if he couldn’t do it? Or, what if he didn’t actually want to? Worse yet, what if he never really loved her at all? It was hard to wrap her head around his actions. His kisses were ardent, by all accounts he was even more earnest than he had been that night in Jackson Hole.
Sleeping with him hadn’t felt like a trophy fuck or a one night stand, she had felt like an empress. He’d been so focused on her pleasure, on unraveling her with a gentleness that almost seemed out of character. Still as driven as ever, but sweeter, somehow. No one had made love to her like that in ages.
Was that all in order to get his hands on the microchip? Beneath all her righteous anger she’d hoped that it had been a misunderstanding. Maybe then it would’ve been less painful.
Maybe it was time to embrace the obvious: Cupid had it out for her. Just like with Finn, when things were finally looking up, everything came crashing down.
What now?
She thumbed through her contacts mindlessly. She ought to check in on Poe, but she hardly felt like it. Calling Jessica seemed even worse.
It rang just then, startling her.
Ben Solo.
Was he about to tell her that Syed had been put in the naughty corner? Probably not.
“Yes, Ben?” She sighed.
“Please don’t hang up.”
She wasn’t going to, but it was nice of him to insist. She relented.
“What is it this time?”
“Syed and Skylar are looking for the Falcon. You can’t hope to get away in that car.”
“I see you haven’t been successful in convincing them to leave me alone. Also, this is escalating rather quickly, isn’t it?”
“Look, I’m sorry I put you in this situation, I—“
“Yeah, I suppose you should be,” Rey tried to cut him off, but Ben was determined.
“Whatever I did before, I regret it, and I’m trying to protect you now. So let me finish. You need to change cars.”
She snorted derisively. “Do you think I have that kind of money? Besides, your mother trusted me with the Falcon, am I really just suppose to let it rot somewhere?”
“No, no, don’t worry. I’m sending Kelsi Ren your way. Switch with her, and try to gain a few hours on Syed and Skylar.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You won’t make it past ten miles. Syed’s out for blood.”
“Is that a threat?”
Ben hesitated to respond. Rey could hear his uneven breathing on the other side.
“Rey, I know I fucked up,” he said hoarsely. “You don’t have to forgive me, but you have to trust me.”
“Trust is a big ask. As for forgiveness, we’ll see. I guess I don’t have a choice about the car...”
“I’m not trying to force you, but it’s your best option. I mean it.”
Rey rolled her eyes. Really, what alternative did she have? She sighed again.
“When will Kelsi be here?”
“Ten minutes, she’s on the way. When she gets there, switch the registration papers too. Don’t talk to her, don’t answer any questions.”
“It’s not like I’ll invite her to tea,” she grumbled as she hung up.
Ben wasn’t kidding: a large Lincoln Nautilus pulled up next to the Millenium Falcon in a matter of minutes. To Rey’s chagrin, it wasn’t quite large enough to fit her mattress, so they were back to sleeping in the car. At least this one had air conditioning. That would be a welcome change.
She supposed she should call Leia about the Falcon soon. She had promised to deliver both the car and the dog, but perhaps Leia would be receptive to the “looming killers” argument. Desperate times called for desperate measures...
Kelsi emerged from the car. Rey had seen her on stage before, but she was different out of costume, in broad daylight. She looked good in her ripped jeans and hiking boots, though she appeared younger now. Short platinum blonde hair framed her face, which was well-hidden beneath a combination of dark sunglasses and a tattered shawl that wrapped around her shoulders.
“Are you Rey?” She asked casually as she approached.
“Yeah. Here’s my car,” she replied, gesturing to the aging Oldmobile Cruiser.
The blonde grimaced, muttering something about a shitty last minute plan under her breath.
“Here’s the keys and the papers. The tank is loaded. Where’re you headed?”
Ben’s voice echoed in Rey’s head: don’t answer any questions. She realized it was time to play the clueless tourist again, since everyone seemed to think she excelled at the role.
"I don’t know,” she said, giving Kelsi her blankest smile. “I’ll just hit the road I guess. Go wherever life takes me.”
“Whatever,” Kelsi grumbled, mostly to herself. In an almost mechanical gesture, she handed Rey the keys and the registration document.
Now it was time to move the contents of the Falcon. Rey cleared out the glovebox, suddenly noticing that the toy car was gone. She panicked when she realized that Luke’s address was still there. Had Ben found it the other night? If that was the case, he now knew her location and her destination. And that meant he knew his uncle’s address. But he never once said anything. Another day, another game of hide and seek.
“Ugh, this piece of crap reeks of dog!” Kelsi complained. Behind her, Rey snorted. Good luck with that, princess.
Finally, Rey moved BB8’s toys and food bowl to the back seat of the Lincoln before getting behind the wheel. The engine revved up smoothly, and she instantly knew this was a major upgrade compared to the Falcon. It also came with a leather interior, GPS, and Bluetooth. Score! The rest of this trip was going to be so much fun.
She put her sunglasses on and adjusted her seat. Time to hit the road again!
For a little while she basked in the feeling of relief, forgetting that she was currently a crazy old woman’s pawn with no other plans in life, on the run from a pair of assassins and leagues away from her dying ex-husband.
She drove carefully out of Bozeman on Highway 89. She connected her phone to the Bluetooth system, finally deciding to give Poe a call. The conversation was brief as Finn was stable and nothing had changed. Rey neglected to mention her own circumstances because she didn’t want her friends in England to worry more than they already did.
Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t as scared as before. Was this her new normal—travelling alone, confronting bears, flirting with rockstars, and outrunning gangs? Despite the risks, she had never felt more alive.
She slowed the car as she approached what looked like a police barricade. Rey was about to pull the window down when the officer standing there motioned for her to keep going.
But by now her good humor had suddenly disappeared. Ben had said that she wouldn’t make it ten miles in the Falcon. Was this barricade the proof? Did FORCE really have the means to intercept her like that? The idea was so terrifying that she pushed it away.
She was headed even further west, in the direction of Idaho. It was 8 AM now. If she drove for another twelve hours, she could spend the night in Reno, Nevada. From there, San Francisco would only be four hours away. Rey would find Luke Skywalker, give him his dog and the microchip, and live the rest of her average life in peace.
Eventually, she would have to call Leia Skywalker, but right now she needed some dial-in advice from her Fairy Godmother.
“Rey, good morning! How was the concert?”
Concert? Maz’s question was brimming with so much enthusiasm that it took Rey’s brain scrambled to catch up. Ah yes, that concert. Before...before everything. The old woman listened patiently as Rey explained the events of that night, and the unexpected consequences.
“Rey. Rey! Listen to me, I don’t quite get the story behind this micro-SD thing, but it sounds important. So as far as I understand, group A hid this thing on you without your knowledge, and group B, the gang, is looking for it. And you’re angry at group A but you forgive them, while also being in love with the leader of group B, who you’re in a spat with right now. Is that it?”
“I am not in love with—“ her voice broke off mid-sentence.
Who was she kidding? She couldn’t even lie to herself anymore.
Maz was silent, allowing Rey to internalize her revelation.
“What about him?” She asked Rey gently, “Is he not in love either?”
“I don’t know, Maz. He’s been chasing me for a week with his smoldering looks and his but-I’m-a-sentimental-beast love songs. And last night he was—“
Rey sighed.
“Last night he was so genuine. Or so I thought. I believed his affections, and I believed his words too. But this morning he was sending me mixed signals. On one hand he was rummaging through my stuff while I slept, but on the other he just gave me a new car.”
“Rey, I’ve met Syed. She didn’t seem like a very nice woman. I’m willing to believe that she will hurt you, especially now that she has a bone to pick. So why is Kylo Ren risking himself to protect you, after he put you in danger?”
“Ben Solo. It’s Ben Solo who’s trying to protect me, not Kylo Ren.”
“What’s the difference?”
As Rey mulled the question over in her head, it dawned on her that she had always seen a clear distinction between Kylo Ren and Ben Solo. Why?
“Kylo Ren is just a persona. He’s a spy who operates the gears and collects the debts for FORCE. Ben Solo has a more complicated backstory involving his parents, and he doesn’t stand a chance against real villains like Syed Ren. He was the one who kissed me last night.”
“And the man who was looking for the microchip as you slept, who was he?”
“Definitely not the same guy who offered me a car so that I could escape.”
“It looks to me like this boy has a lot of soul-searching to do. I don’t know if you can help with his problems. Take the car for now and get as far away from them as you can! Go find yourself some shelter and let the boy figure out his own life. He’ll come back to you if he really means to.”
Rey contemplated this in silence. It was simple enough to worry about herself for now and let Ben come back when he was ready. It seemed reasonable, doable.
When their conversation came to an end, Rey stopped at Three Forks to get breakfast and buy a few more supplies for the journey. Ideally, she would make as few stops as possible to really stay ahead. Feeling a renewed sense of determination, she was ready to face the world again.
This part of the Rockies was different than the area east of the Teton, which she had passed on arrival. In Wyoming she had driven past dry mountain prairies that were almost desert-like. The other side of the mountain chain was much hillier, reminiscent of the Alpine countryside. She spotted grassy knolls, valleys, and snowy mountain peaks set against the flowery plains.
She followed the valley south, feeling lighter and lighter with each passing kilometer. There was no one behind her. No menacing SUV, no Syed in sight. Could it be that all her worries were immaterial?
Well, there was one person she still had to worry about contacting: Leia Skywalker.
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☼ - and so... MARIE appears. - @citialiin, what will you choose?
perhaps some of you will be surprised to see her face, when she has not been given a chance to speak yet. but why should she, when the truth was that she was quite far away from the situation at hand? yes. she really did want to separate herself from him, but the more she tried, the more impossible it became. somehow, he found ways to sneak into her life - crawl into the spaces that were left behind, growing dusty from neglect.
allow ourselves an intermission from your regularly scheduled despair to get a look into the mind of one annette kaye, whose past as marie samson is one that you are all likely familiar with already. but the trouble is that annie was, quite unfortunately, never allowed to be given a chance away from the rather catastrophic existence that was jonathan vastielle. in a way, she was never going to escape the past - it was always there, ready and willing to catch up with her. and my, what fast feet it had! but perhaps the answer was not to run away, but to acknowledge that it happened, and simply move forward.
it was a shame then, that jonathan had approached her that fateful night - not the one you might all know, but one after a particular incident had happened. and yes, she had been watching from the sidelines; though she wanted nothing to do with him, there was something gratifying about watching him fall from grace. regardless, she maintained her distance; not answered a word he said, not bothered to acknowledge him wherever she might have seen him in the real world ( and yes, he had a troubling way of making his presence known ). but, in a disconcerting twist of events, he had made himself known to her with a crazed grab of her arm as she took the first step up her doorway and tried her best to evade him. she was not going to let him, no, not this time. he could sink back into the misery from whence he came! but, alas, those bloodshot eyes, that quivering lip, all of it begot the phrase he uttered next; shakily so:
“ help me, just... i can’t do this anymore! don’t let me fuck up again... please. “
how uncharacteristic of him. how out of character. that desperate plea, enough to rattle the mind of anyone who heard it, especially disturbed annie that night. was he out of his mind, approaching her there? so obvious? she could have easily called the cops on him, and yet he had still risked it. perhaps it was the alcohol on his breath ( he reeked that night, she recalled with a grimace and turn of her nose ) that gave away the extent of his recklessness. yes. that must have been it. something must have disturbed him enough to resort to this, the escape.
ziggy stardust. that was the key in this puzzle - and across from him she sat in the present. how did it come to be like this, in the middle of this fancy dining room with the candles set out in front of them and her face made-up, hair done, and little black dress that went to her ankles worn due to the restaurant’s dress code? the answer was both simple and complicated, and really did send her often self-conscious mind in a bit of a whirl.
that night, she had humored him, watched him break down in front of her. it truly was a pathetic sight, but also not quite unlike watching a puppy wander lost through the pouring rain, unable to find shelter. he truly did look as though he had no other recourse than to turn to her, the one whom he had treated as his personal therapist for so long. true, part of her fumed that she had even bothered to listen to his drunken ramblings of his monstrousness, his self-imposed isolation, and god knew what else. all she knew by the time he had wiped away at his tear-stained cheeks was the unusual amalgam of varying emotions filling her heart, making her chest hurt: anger, exhaustion, but above all else... sadness. sadness for him, really. he truly was a lost cause. it seemed as though that flamboyant musician really had gotten under his skin, just as she had. and yet... what had she said?
“ if you think you fucked up so badly, just go talk to him. “
however, she doubted that jonathan would even do such a thing in the first place. still, he had come to her, had he not? truthfully, the entire situation was so strange that she, too, found herself getting wrapped up in the entire farce that was being put on display before her very eyes. jonathan... liking someone enough and feeling desperately lonely enough to regret how terribly he treated them? surely, the sky was falling, she thought at the time. the devastation that was present in her eyes had made the situation all the more uncomfortable.
and perhaps that was why she tracked the musician down directly, making sure to grab his attention as best she could.
“ i don’t want an autograph. ...it’s about jonathan vastielle; the guy whose artwork you were supposed to use? just hear me out. “
what was she doing? did she not vow to leave jonathan behind in the quicksand in which he continued to sink? maybe so, and still, she was keeping true to that promise. who knew how many times jonathan was going to come to her home, keep pestering her, make it so that she would have to file a restraining order against him ( though that may not have stopped him in this state ). it was best, she had decided, to get things to a stable end - and perhaps she held some responsibility in the matter. after all, she was marie samson. he had involved her, and she had gotten entangled in his affairs all those years ago.
she really did pity him. that breakdown of his... was there a chance? truly a chance that he could improve? become something better than what he currently was? that sadness and hopelessness in his eyes were not the eyes of the monster who had toyed with her emotions and yet become so ravenous for her. no. it was something else. something... truer to the self that lay trapped behind the wall with its many bricks and foundations, not haphazardly maintained.
a little boy, crying for the chance he never had to truly be good.
“ um, look. “ she paused, brushing a strand of her away from her ear. “ i really did mean what i said earlier. i wanted to talk to you about this because, i think, anyway, that he’s... he’s a complicated case. i would know. i mean, i’ve said that already, but... “
nervously, her fingers toyed with the bridge of her glasses, adjusting them against her nose - pushing them up, though there was no need for adjustment. it was strange, surreal, actually, finally getting a chance to talk for the first time. really talk. sure, she had been honest with him before about the nature of jonathan’s disease ( not any specific, textbook disease, but his entire being ought to have been compared to a rotting corpse - the stench would fill up the lives of any who associated with him, but... ). and yet still, she was here, trying to convince him of something... well, maybe completely mad.
“ he hurt me. yeah. he did; i’ll never forgive him for that, and i’m sure all his past relationships, platonic and romantic won’t forgive him either, but... i don’t know. what he did that night was unlike anything he’d ever done before. it was just... “ a pause, as her gaze glossed over - becoming distant. she stared idly at the flame flickering from the candle, ziggy’s form becoming blurred against its warm light. “ i think he meant it. i don’t think he would’ve come to me so out of character if he didn’t, well... if he didn’t feel so hopeless. i’m just here as an emissary, or... i don’t fucking know, some missionary for the cause of repairing whatever your friendship was. he... i guess he misses you. it’s weird to you, maybe. to me too - he never really says he misses anyone. well... except for me, i guess. that’s why this is so weird. “
she let loose a soft sigh, and managed to glance at him again. he really was an unusual character - so made-up. why jonathan even liked the guy was beyond her ( well, she found him amusing and entertaining, even enjoyed - and owned - some of his music, but he definitely was not jonathan’s usual type ).
“ call this an olive branch. i’m not saying forgive him, but... i dunno. he’s trying. he’s... attempting. i guess that’s better than fucking feeling sorry for himself like he used to. i mean, he’s still there, whining about what a piece of shit he is and being complacent in that fact, but it could be much worse. trust me. it could. “
she scratched the back of the neck, allowing herself a moment to attune her senses the sounds of gentle, humming chatter from the los angeles elite and the equally muted classical piece being played live in the back of the room. clinking of forks, of spoons, of knives... nobody could know the stakes of the conversation at hand.
“ call me a bleeding heart. he’s a fucking mess, but he needs a translator to function, so... here i am. ask me whatever you want about him, and i’ll try to answer. lord knows he needs an actual friend - i mean, you seem willing to deal with him again. that’ll help his case. assuming you two get along again, hopefully that gets him the hell away from me too. “
“ ...so, basically what i’m saying is, if you choose to hear him out, assuming he does, then... just don’t tell him i’m around. i’d rather just fade into obscurity. this is probably the stupidest shit i could possibly do, but... i see the stupid repressed child in him wanting a release, i guess. it deserves to get some respite, even if he’s honestly satan incarnate to a degree. “
#citialiin#I. MY CURRENT MOOD? ASK ME IN ANOTHER 100 YEARS. - MAIN.#V. TIME FOR AN INTERMISSION. - ANNIE KAYE.#( yea surprsie surprise........ npc time. nyoom )#(m y blog my rules )#( literally all i had energy for tonight was this for u bc i lu )#( also to those who see this besides basil - annie is only appearing bc this was extensively plotted out )#( i wont rp her on her own blog bc i dont think she needs her own blog )#( unless ppl do wanna interact w her )#( but i think she needs to be fleshed out more )#( anyways LMAO )#( THIS IS FOR U BASIL IM SRRY FOR RAMBLING )#( puts this in main bc annie is just... in the same Verse. )#( u kno. )
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FE16 Black Eagles (Edelgard) Liveblogging
Chapters 17-18, minus the colossal amount of Dimitri/Dedue content in the first chapter which I covered at length here.
Altogether I’d consider Edelgard’s last two chapters to be easier than Dimitri’s, in large part to due to far less long range magic. That’s actually quite reasonable in terms of story; as the nation renowned for its magic users - and, by the last chapter of the Lions route, openly allied with the remnants of Those Who Slither - Adrestia would logically field more of them. The knights of Faerghus and the church and Rhea’s “dolls” (more like fantasy-flavored mechs, but that’s what they call them) don’t offer as big a challenge by comparison.
The other obstacles unique to Chapter 18 weren’t much either. The fire makes the map hard to traverse for non-fliers, but it slows down enemies too. Rhea as the Immaculate One has a much smaller attack range than Hegemon Edelgard and only gets one attack per turn, in addition to being a bigger target that’s easier to surround. It makes sense that the climax of this route wouldn’t be as difficult if they used the number of chapters for scaling. The Strike Force has had four fewer chapters to grow compared to the Lions.
I liked that the last chapter plays out on a heavily modified version of the Fhirdiad map used in the Lions route for the Cornelia fight, although this does mean that I only got to see two entirely new maps on this route: the Petra/Bernadetta paralogue and the Tailtean Plains of Chapter 17.
Kill list: other than Dimitri and Dedue’s gay high tragedy, Sylvain and Mercedes in 17, Ashe, Gilbert, Annette, Catherine, and Cyril in 18. Catherine was much easier to take down from range with the fires limiting her movement, whereas Cyril (I thought he died in Chapter 12? I guess not) was surprisingly strong as a wyvern lord packing a brave axe. Wyvern enemies continue to catch me off guard.
Oh, yeah. Rhea shows up on the field in a Seiros cosplay in Chapter 17, but Edelgard one-rounded her (at a weapon triangle disadvantage, no less) and then she and almost all of the reinforcements she spawned with left the map. With everything else going on in that map, the church contribution was quite underwhelming.
Story/Character observations
Let’s get the small stuff out of the way first. There’s a few last bits of monastery dialogue worth noting. Shamir gets in some more heavy subtext re: Catherine, only now they’re enemies and you could potentially have Shamir kill Catherine. Dedue is a bear. Fleche, the girl who tries to kill Dimitri on the Lions route but instead kills Rodrigue, shows up one last time to show how curiously well-adjusted she is on this route after her brother’s death a few chapters earlier. It was interesting to see those two and the NPC general Ladislava show up during exploration and comment on ongoing events. I wouldn’t say it humanizes them too much since the most you get is an NPC fawning over how awesome Ladislava is or more pathos and less torture in Randolph’s death, but it’s appropriate for the alternative perspective this route offers.
I also need to call attention to a handy scholar NPC who appears in the library every chapter after the timeskip, dispensing info dumps that the books don’t cover and asking us to call into question the authorial intent of those books. Of course he’s obviously biased in favor of Edelgard and the Empire, but it’s a useful addition.
Onto supports. As a means of ensuring that I got the Hubert/Ferdinand paired ending I saved all their other A supports for the last minute, so that’s most of what I saw here. As per usual it’s Ferdinand who gets the more interesting stuff overall, with Hubert being more sedate and needing to be given practical reasons for marrying Dorothea or motivation to stop comparing Petra to Edelgard. Ferdinand’s high points come down even to something as mundane as what he’s drinking in various A supports - tea with Bernadetta, coffee (Hubert’s preferred drink) with Edelgard. Does Hubert/Ferdinand canonically happen before Edelgard/Ferdinand, and this is why the former’s paired ending has Edelgard jealous of them? Ferdinand’s A with Manuela is more theatre queen gushing, but his A with Dorothea walks a fine line between really sweet and really screwed up. Dorothea recalls bathing in a public fountain shortly after her singing talents were discovered and seeing a young Ferdinand staring at her and probably sporting his first erection. This is why she’s so hostile to him the whole time, and as said I don’t know how we’re meant to feel about that, or that this conversation resolves in romance. Or, rather, it would, if they didn’t then jump back to a confused simile about bees that’s now morphed into drones protecting a queen. From what little I know of insects male bees don’t have stingers and so can’t protect anything, so I do believe this metaphor subtly circles back around to lesbianism in the end. Everything with Dorothea inevitably does.
I’ve been neglecting it all this time, but I will say that Bernadetta improves slightly after the timeskip. She screams a lot less in her later supports, and in her dialogue in general she sounds more composed and less prone to immediately hiding herself away. Yay for actual emotional maturation.
I’m going to delicately sidestep the hotly-debated question of whether Edelgard’s goals justify her actions or whether this is in fact a bonafide villain route. The game itself wavers over this question at multiple points, not as shakily as Conquest does but still in ways that feel tonally off. The attempts at humanizing Edelgard by giving her a mundane fear of rats (that she acquired when she was being tortured as a child - totally normal circumstances!) and having her draw sketches of Byleth don’t land because they’re so disconnected from everything else, and her opinion of the religion of Seiros varies constantly. Sometimes she sees the value of spirituality in people’s lives and only takes issue with the corruption of the church, other times - including at the very end, when she’s about to cave Rhea’s head in - she’s declaring that humanity has no need for gods and will be better off without them. Having played her route it’s hard for me to call her a fantasy Protestant even in jest when she’s more of a dystheist (i.e. gods exist, but they are evil antagonistic forces) who will occasionally acknowledge that religion can have a positive impact on a strictly personal level. Even though she lays her plans out for Byleth early on, well before the timeskip, her ultimate aim remains unclear, not helped by the brevity of the epilogue which seems to be standard across all routes - just a short paragraph of text by the narrator over one of those stylized tapestries, cut to turn counts and character endings. Edelgard abolishes the nobility and the church after having conquered the other two nations by military force, and somehow we’re expected to believe that her regime will remain peaceful and stable and not collapse into anarchy in the space of a few years. Sure.
It does not help in the slightest that this route builds up Those Who Slither as a credible threat, only to shove them off onto an unseen postgame conflict. True, I theorized that allowing Claude and his various allies to live on the Lions route sets the stage for a massive Almyran invasion after the credits roll, but that’s more headcanon based on how FE doesn’t like to settle for unambiguously happy and resolved endings. Those Who Slither are the genuine antagonists of this route, and most of what Rhea has actually done is left unexplained. From a Doylist perspective I understand it, I really do: Those Who Slither take the focus for the Deer, and Rhea takes it for the church route, just as Dimitri’s revenge motivation only gets proper attention on the Lions route. However, these four stories are not all occurring simultaneously but are instead essentially AUs of one another, with Byleth choosing their starter Pokémon their house the catalyst for shaping all the events to follow. Looking at this route in isolation though it leaves Edelgard’s grand mission looking highly questionable.
One last thing, because I almost forgot about him: what happened to the Death Knight? He disappears from the game after the timeskip on this route. I assume you see him again if you recruit Mercedes and get her paralogue with Caspar, but it’s strange that one of Edelgard’s most loyal minions from Part 1 doesn’t even warrant a mention during her conquest of Fódlan.
Two routes down and two more to go - time to fear the Deer...’s lack of homoerotic content. Nothing makes me want to play something like knowing all the characters under my control are sexually uncreative prudes.
EDIT: Right, I remembered the DK but not the m!Byleth/Linhardt S rank. That should say something about how not particularly romantic it is. Really, the S rank with Gilbert and the one paired S rank with Alois where Byleth doesn’t marry someone else seem less offensive in light of how little there is to m!Byleth’s one “real” gay pairing. As always, you can get so much more out of conversations when both characters are allowed to speak and emote outside of irrelevant dialogue choices and stiff model gestures.
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☆ — wait , is that ZELDA KING ? dean lockwood has been looking for them . you didn’t hear it from me but , apparently the JUNIOR might know something about the whole omega chi & kappa tau situation . while they can be BRASH & IMPULSIVE , they’re far too WELCOMING & COURAGEOUS to be involved , right ? those who know them say they’re reminded of FLANNELS WRAPPED AROUND THE WAIST, THE CLICKING OF A CAMERA, A COMPUTER SCREEN ILLUMINATING A PITCH BLACK ROOM, THE “IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA” THEME, BAGPIPES PLAYING IN THE DISTANCE whenever they’re around . honestly , the DIGITAL MEDIA major should try to keep their head down . after the events of last semester , lockwood is out for blood . did you know that ZELDA is a member of GAMMA RHO ALPHA ? that might explain why their name is being brought up .
you’re an explosion , you’re dynamite playlist. pinterest. to listen as you read. like for a plotting dm on tumblr , react for a discord dm rocky lynch lovebot / hylia.#0329 on discord.
WOOOO I really can’t keep myself from holding only one muse can’t I. WELL. This is Zelda , a bit more of a happy-go-lucky muse compared to Sam !! She’s both her own character mixed with a few others I have - I love her dearly , so please please please feel free to come at me for plots !! <3 HERE WE GO :
HISTORY
Zelda’s backstory isn’t anything special - growing up in Scotland her parents had a nice marriage , she grew up an only child , always got good grades
But she always felt... average. She never was really anyone to anybody , so Zelda had a bit of a knack for wanting attention and trying to get her voice out there. So some took this as endearing , some took it as annoying.
In high school , she was lucky enough to be selected for an exchange student program in Salem , Massachusetts - and then she’d meet the FIRST person who would make her feel special in SAGA ( Sexuality And Gender Acceptance ) Club , a cheeky blonde boy named Cyrus who had a tendency to hide in the corner of the room and not talk to many people. And they’d date for about a year , up until Zelda would have to go back to Scotland.
They had to break up when Zelda would leave , but remained extremely close and communicating daily through digital connections.
ANYWAY , that little one year romance sort of gave her more confidence to use her voice and try and light up the room - since if she could do it for one person , she could do it for multiple people. That’s what gave her the idea to pursue a career in DIGITAL MEDIA - namely , film & video ( with digital art and photography on the side ) in the more comedic aspect. Screenplaying and the technicals behind sketch-comedy skits. Stand-up comedy , even though that was more performing.
Think like Saturday Night Live - and then think of all the technical stuff that goes into it besides the acting. The script-writing , camera angles , etc. Zelda just wanted to make people laugh.
Soooo… when she told her parents that would be what she wanted to do , her average home-life would turn sour CONSIDERING they didn’t want her to explore such risky career choices. An easier life would be to become a lawyer or a doctor - more stable. But that’s not what she wanted. So after a LENGTHY argument with her parents , Zelda would be thrown out of the house with only the money she saved ( thankfully , she’d always been the frugal one ) , and would call . . . her ex-boyfriend and his mother. Since even though they’d only been communicating digitally over the past two years , it still felt like home in Massachusetts.
Her ex’s mother would pay for a flight for her to go back to the United States , and after some time of adjusting , she’d get into Hollingsworth to pursue her career in Digital Media - staying there , but often traveling home ( being where her ex and his mom lived ) routinely.
Pledging to Gamma , her insistence for encouraging people to live their life to the fullest and readiness to include people in her free spirited antics would leave a great impression on the sorority - eventually even leading to her current position as its president.
CHARACTER / FACTS
So again !! Zelda is my trans female pansexual bby , 5’11 bc tall girls make the world go round and she is the LIVING EXAMPLE of the Halcyon label. She’s loud , carefree , optimistic - never really known to pass up an opportunity to have fun.
...that’s so basic of an intro to her personality BUT IN MY DEFENSE IT’S EARLY
BUT YEAH Zelda ?? Does not give a shit about anything. She holds no grudges towards anyone , waaaay too chill - but she flips from extremely chill and laid back to “HEY HEY LET’S GO DO THESE TEN THINGS” and it’s. Definitely a 360. But nobody’s ever seen her angry and it sort of makes people wonder if she even feels anger or if she has a secret dark side nobody knows about.
...She doesn’t. Zelda’s only habits when angry are that she’s short , to the point , and WILL call you out if you’ve done something wrong. But making her mad is extremely hard and she’ll only remotely get upset if you prove time and time after again to be a shitty person.
Which , can sort of lead her to get taken advantage of because of her chill nature - that’s how the previous issue with Gamma getting in trouble at one of their parties happened. Zelda got pissed. She knows she’s chill but she doesn’t think about how that could lead SOME people to thinking “oh I can do anything I want and she’ll be fine with it” because she doesn’t. Get angry about much.
ALSO THAT DOES MAKE HER A BIT NAIVE - just again. She’s easy to take advantage of because she believes the best in everyone and automatically assumes people will do the right thing as people. Doesn’t really understand why people will do things to hurt others and doesn’t really want to.
Also kind of jumpy like she’s a social person and definitely flips between lax and loud but it is SO easy to startle her.
AS FOR HER INTERESTS IN DIGITAL MEDIA - she is extremely talented with the entire Adobe Creative Suite , especially Premiere , Photoshop , and After Effects.
She has an Instagram dedicated to posting manips , edits , etc. she made in both PS & AE. You know those funky Insta edits you see all the time ?? Zelda makes those.
She ALSO does a lot of editing and promotion for Gamma - a lot of times they’re memey little videos or advertisements or skits that display how welcoming Gamma is , and they do a great job at leaving a good impression on possible recruits.
Her BIG thing though would be a little YouTube channel she runs where she often posts videos just around campus - think Billy On The Street , which is what she really wants to do with her digital media career.
“I’M RUNNING AROUND HOLLINGSWORTH WITH A PACK OF WILD LESBIANS”
“LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO”
She either wants to do that - or mockumentaries to put on Youtube ( or even documentaries in a whole that she approaches with her extremely sunny demeanor on conspiracies or the like ). She’d also like to film her own show to put on TV , either something like reality comedy , a reality show spoof , or even something like It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia or The Office or Brooklyn 99. Comedy film is her passion.
Commentary videos are ALSO something she’s considered , much like iNabber or Strange AEons , but she thinks mockumentaries , skits , and her other work
Also that person who Photoshops heads on people’s bodies and makes memes for all the group chats she’s in
She really doesn’t take herself seriously often but frankly that’s just Gamma as a whole so it WORKS.
A good portion of Zelda’s existence is a meme tbh I honestly adore her
She has a LOT of tattoos that were designed by her ex-boyfriend since he was an art major and now is a tattoo artist in Salem - I’d point you in the direction of Hannah Pixie Snowdon’s body art as a reference , just Zelda isn’t nearly as covered as she is.
This would be the best reference I can think of rn , lots of pretty designs and some animals, maybe some symbols and references from stuff.
Olivia doesn’t have any tattoos but WE CAN CERTAINLY PRETEND
A lot of her spare money is made doing either graphics commissions or even photography from whoever needs her services !! The majority of her stuff has been done for cosplayers , budding models , budding actors and actresses , and even for other fraternities and sororities around campus. Zelda knows no rivalries when it comes to these things.
She’s also 100% that person who keeps around a polaroid camera so she can hang up pictures she takes she’s just That Person
Decorates the Gamma house with a lot of polaroids she’s taken and memey edits she’s done in Photoshop
INSIDE JOKES ARE HER THING
She also plays guitar and is fairly good at it but doesn’t have a band or anything rn bc she’s just someone who does it bc she wants to look cool ( and also bc the guitar’s a neato instrument but yeah she started it out just bc she wanted to play SOME kind of instrument at least )
,,,but she also knows how to play the bagpipes
and she owns a pair.
they’re in the gamma house. zelda plays them at meetings.
Also I can’t 100% guarantee she didn’t get her name from the Legend of Zelda series if y’all know me u know how much I adore that series so yeah
WANTED PLOTS / CONNECTIONS
GIVE ME A COMEDY SQUAD PLEEEEEEEEASE maybe even ppl she works to make a webseries or something with ?? give me people who work constantly just to make other people laugh
People she routinely takes photographs of !!
Whether they pay her or she uses as a muse for whatever
OTHER PPL FROM THE GREEK ROW THAT JUST DON’T… LIKE ZELDA FOR WHATEVER REASON
Maybe they think she’s too chill. Maybe they think she’s hiding something. Maybe they don’t like how she’s running Gamma but for whatever reason they just DON’T LIKE HER and I want enemies so fucking give me enemies
This is so general but more Gamma sisters would be lovely Zelda’s so eager to bring in more people to make their sorority feel like home
Give me crushes Zelda pines over !! Crushes that pine over Zelda !! Gimme that skinny love shit bc my god it gets me going !!
Hookup plots are also 100% acceptable bc again Zelda’s a carefree spirit and gives No Fucks
Also 100% down 4 cute romantic plots too - Zelda is ur regular poly pan babe w/ room in her heart for 12000 suns
it’s very on brand of me to place the romance/sex plots right smack in the middle as I’m thinking of what to put down
Okay when I was in high school we had majors and I was a Digital Art major and all the Visual Art majors had this bond with us for no reason so I’d really love some Vis. Art buddies that Zelda gets along with much like the bond she has with her ex-boyfriend now
OTHER PEOPLE TO DESIGN MORE TATTOOS FOR HER PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE one day she hopes to be a coloring book
I’D LOVE SOME UNLIKELY FRIENDS TOO JUST SOME GRUMPS ZELDA’S CONSTANTLY BOTHERING W/ HER SHIT
Memey group chat pls
THATS ALL I CAN THINK OF FOR NOW maybe i’ll do a more detailed / organized list soon but yeah !! Come at me !!!
#hworth:intro#* &. about / ☆ 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧#* &. ooc / ☆ 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐇𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐚#I got the worst headache @ work but we got this done at least#very on brand of me to namedrop ocs i'll never bring in here 2 include them somehow#but i'm so excited i love love love LOVE zelda so much and the last uni group i was in she was only an npc#i'm rly happy to write her in full : ' )
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okay it’s the fantasy high anon (from the duo questions only) back with even more questions!!! so we all know kristen is having an amazing character arc, and adaine and fig have also both developed and changed over the course of what’s been released so far. But how do you think the guys characters must develop in the future? not trying to hate on them, I love them, I just don’t feel they’ve been quite as dynamic as the girls :)
I think we can all agree that Kristen is having the most dramatic character arc (and really stress testing Brennan’s game world in the process) followed by I’d say Fig and then Adaine (though those could swap pretty easily if the Abernants catch wind of her recent shenanigans).
So, I think that when the characters were introduced, they pretty clearly telegraphed what their issues were and the girls just happened to have bigger or at least more dramatic issues. Cause if you lay it out:
The Girls:
Fig: Just found out she’s a tiefling, is having an identity crisis, and her parents are getting divorced.
Adaine: Is dealing with a huge inferiority complex courtesy of her emotionally distant parents and catty older sister, panic attacks, and is (or at least was) a total fish out of water.
Kristen: Just...so much.
Which sets the stage for a lot of dramatic character work. Meanwhile:
The Boys:
Riz: Is just kind of a geek. He’s obsessed with solving this mystery, but that’s not really a negative character trait. He’s honestly a pretty stable guy, if a little too involved in police work.
Gorgug: He has some adoption angst, clearly, and he feels like he doesn’t fit in. Plus, he has some self-worth issues.
Fabian: Fabian, on the other had, has the opposite of self worth issues. Or maybe, he has them in the opposite direction. Bottom line, the dude thinks he’s great. A little too great. Which Daybreak spelled out in ep1. Uh...not that we’re taking advice from that guy but, like, it was spelled out is my point.
So, like, Riz doesn’t really have glaring issues. Gorgug has issues that don’t manifest super dramatically. And Fabian has issues but I think they’re being dealt with by merit of him being on a team. So I guess this is how I think everything shakes out:
Riz didn’t have a lot of friends at the start of the series, which he was fine with. Now he has friends, which is better. He doesn’t need an attitude adjustment and his relationship with his mom is good. So I think his major character beats will have to be about solving his mystery (or, possibly, getting over it but I doubt it’s that one since they’re well on their way to solving it at this point) and, maybe, dealing with the loss of his dad which is something they teased but haven’t gotten into yet.
Gorgug needs to feel like he belongs and that he’s useful, and he’s getting that validation from being with the group. So, I feel like this is leading up to some huge crowning moment of awesome for him. And maybe he’ll end up less hung up on his bio-family since he has a bigger found family now (sidenote, how ready was he for Fig to be his sister last ep). Oh, also, if there’s a school dance episode, and I’d be shocked if there wasn’t, he’ll 9/10 get his first kiss. Mark my words.
Fabian’s arc is, I think, more of a slow burn. It’s the little things like telling Gorgug he’s not worthless and telling his bike to not perv on Adaine and (probably) secretly getting everyone presents and not taking credit. I think him having a big, dramatic to-do would almost go against the lesson he’s supposed to be learning which is that he doesn’t always need to be the center of attention, you know?
OK, that was long and rambly. So, to sum up:
I think the boys are actually well on their way to completing their arcs. They just have more low key arcs compared to the girls.
That’s probably a good thing because imagine if every character had as much going on as Kristen. That would be so much for Brennan to balance.
In every story there has to be an element of change, but every character doesn’t necessarily have to change much or at all.
Also, to be completely fair to the boys, Kristen has enough problems for 6 people, she’s spiraling at an alarming rate, and she’s fresh out of healthy coping mechanisms so anyone would look static next to her.
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This chapter is long! Lots of things happening, sort of. Also an important note: the value of money mentioned in the fic is pretty much adjusted to the inflation rate. So the amount in the fic is $200 (you will see what I’m talking about) in today’s money that is a bit more than $3600.
Fic Title: Take It and Run [cowboy au] Chapter: 5. Thieves Previous Chapters: Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 Rating: G (Warning: some swearing, Tredd gets a bit grabby) Characters: Cor, Luche, Noctis, Glado, Ignis, Prompto, Tredd, Nyx, Luna, Ravus, Libertus, Crowe. Tagging: @jojopitcher @birdsandivory @lazarustrashpit @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy @themissimmortal @kairakara101 @ladychocoberry @littlestfangirl @parjiljehavey @fromunseeliecourt
Stealing Nyx’s horse was the easiest part. Pelna and Axis were with the cattle, Libertus and Crowe were at the saloon. The horses were tied close to their camp and taking it away wasn’t very difficult. Stealing a horse from the ranch was a different matter. They had to leave their horses far enough in order not to be seen or heart but at the same time close enough so when the leave on one horse it wouldn’t take them forever to reach that spot.
Luche had ridden around the area during the day and had general idea about the shape and size of the ranch. If everything went well, the whole adventure should take them no more than thirty minutes and they would be riding to the caves where they were meeting Titus.
They left their horses and Nyx’s stolen horse on the east side of the ranch and walked quietly through the property. Tredd’s information was correct, there seemed to be nobody around. It was also very late so whoever was still here was probably either in the main house or one of the smaller buildings around. That gave them good chance to sneak in and out of horse stables.
Once in the stables it seemed like the task was almost done. All they had to do is check all stalls for the most unremarkable horse. They started walking towards the horse, thinking they were alone, until one of the stalls opened. Luche could feel his heart beating way too fast for his liking. They were supposed to be alone, it was the middle of the night. His reaction was pure instinct and there was nothing deliberate in the way his body acted. In a matter of seconds he had one of his guns in hand, he grabbed the person that had interrupted them by the throat and shoved them against the nearby wall. Only then he finally realized that the person was a she, that same girl they had seen in the store this morning, the one that slapped Tredd. He should have figured it out. He was the one who pointed to Tredd that she was wealthy, he should have figured out that probably her family owned that place. How many wealthy people you saw in Insomnia, Ravus who pretended to be still wealthy didn’t count.
“You move, I splatter your pretty brains all over the wall.” He held the gun against her forehead and cocked it in order to show he was serious. He would hate to ruin that pretty face, but he would hate it even more to be arrested for horse thievery.
To her credit she tried to look brave. Her eyes followed Tredd as he went to through the horse stalls, looking for what they needed. Luche had his eyes on her, didn’t want her to do anything stupid.
“Let me go.” She said as Tredd walked in and out of another stall.
Luche ignored her. The bandanna was muffing his voice but he couldn’t risk it. He admired her spirit, she was obviously scared despite her obviously best effort to hide it, but she still wasn’t begging him.
“Bingo!” Tredd shouted from the other end of the stables and walked out a brown horse, exactly what they needed.
“That is my brother’s horse.” The girl said and tried to move a step forward but Luche just pushed the gun against her skin.
“Don’t. Your brother can get a new horse, you cannot get a new head.” His eyes were pinned on hers, so green like the grass on his father’s plantation. It would a pity to shoot that petty head of hers.
“What do we do with her?” Tredd asked as he led the horse closer.
That was a very good question, her being in the stables wasn’t in his plan. Bullet in the head was the best option of course, but he didn’t want another murder on his consciousness. She wasn’t technically in their way, it was an accident.
“I have an idea.” Tredd gave him the horse’s reins and pulled another bandanna from his back pocket. He walked closer to her, the woman made a step backwards, her back hitting the wall. Woman was a weird word to use, Luche realized. She was younger than him. Probably about eighteen. He felt pity and admiration at the same time. Tredd tied the bandanna over her eyes, her breathing becoming more rapid as he was working on it. Part of Luche wanted to tell her it will be okay and nothing bad will happen, another part of him wondered why he would even care what happened to her.
“Let’s go.” Luche put his gun back in the holster.
Tredd ignored him.
“She will scream.” Tredd was holding her chin, his hand almost fully wrapped around her small face. “Give me another bandana or something similar.”
He was right. Luche pulled two pieces of clothing from his pocket and tossed them to Tredd. He could still see the fear in the girl’s body, she was pressing herself against the wall, her hands were locked in fists and her chest was raising and falling way too quick. He wondered if she would slap Tredd again if she could and he felt like he really wanted to see that.
Tredd brushed his thumb against the girl’s lips and Luche clenched his jaw. He wanted to grab Tredd and drag him out of here. Somehow the idea of him touching her didn’t stand very well with him.
“We need to go.” Luche insisted not wanting to see anymore of that.
Tredd just smiled, not saying anything just forced her mouth open and pushed one of Luche’s bandana’s in it. Using the other one to tie it behind her head and hold it still. He turned her around making her face the stable’s wall and pulled her hands behind her back tying them with the sort rope that was hanging on his hip.
He waited for Tredd to jump behind him on the horse and rode off without even looking back. He felt bad for her, he didn’t want to involve anybody in that business. Last time civilians got involved ended with them losing all their money and getting in debt, he didn’t want the same story to repeat.
“She likes me.” Tredd finally concluded as they reached the place where the left the horses.
“She was freaking out.” Luche started moving things from his horse to the one they have just stolen.
“You are bitter you will lose the bet.” Tredd teased him again and Luche could feel his ego screaming that he cannot let Tredd have it, but the rational part of him silenced the screams.
“We are not betting.” Luche tied his saddle to the stolen horse. “Come on Titus is waiting for us by the caves.”
“They almost killed my sister.” The man said, his eyes fixed on Cor as if he was supposed to magically find whoever had stolen that horse and hang them right now.
“Brother, why don’t you walk out.” The girl smiled at him, it wasn’t a friendly smile and it was obviously not a request. The man looked at her for few seconds but then without saying a word walked out of the Marshal’s office.
Cor didn’t have to deal with that. It wasn’t his job, but Noct needed him and he wasn’t going to ignore it.
“So. Let’s start from the beginning.” Cor sat behind his desk, Gladio was leaning against the wall left of the woman. His thumbs hooked into his gunbelt.
“Not much to tell you Marshal.” She had a distinct Eastern accent, Cor remember her family moving here couple of years ago when she was just a child. “I was checking on a new stallion we got few weeks ago. Beautiful animal. I heard a sound in the barn, thought one of the horses kicked something. Went out to check, next thing I know I had a gun pointed at my head and I was told to keep quiet. One of the guys went through the horse stalls, picked one and after they tied me they left.”
Cor had to admit he admired the calmness in her voice. He could see some sort of fear in her eyes, but she wasn’t freaking out which mas making his job way easier. He hated dealing with tears.
“Did they say anything? Did something that might help you recognize them? Voices?” Gladio asked from the other end of the room.
“Not much. Both sounded like cowboys, wore jeans, riding boots…both wore hats and bandanas so I couldn’t see much of their faces. I might be able to recognize their voices but they were also muffed by the bandannas, so I wouldn’t want to bet someone’s life on my testimony.” Cor knew that less reliable testimonies than a witness recognizing criminal’s voice could pass in court, but he also didn’t want to be the guy who pulled the rope on an innocent man.
“Anything special about the horse they stole? Was it expensive?” Cor couldn’t figure out why they hit the ranch and left with a single horse. He was familiar with the property, he had bought one of his horses from there, they had good animals both for sale and for personal use. Whoever was stealing that horse could have made a fortune if they had stolen two or three.
“It was a good horse, not the best we have. It is one of the horses my brother uses to work around the ranch. It’s a fast animal, not the fastest we have.” She stopped for a second then she continued. “Marshal, we have three Arabian horses, all three of them cost triple if not more compared to that horse.”
Cor didn’t know what else was to it. He got the description from the brother earlier. Brown horse, not even a white sock or spot on his body to make it more special. Apparently, they weren’t after the horse price, they could have taken one of these Arabian horses, sold it in a different state, nobody would know better. Why would they steal the most unremarkable horse a rich boy owned?
Then it hit him. It wasn’t about the horse. It was but it wasn’t.
“Gladio if you are to steal a horse. You can steal any horse in the world, from the cheapest animal, to the most expensive. From the fastest to the slowest. Why would you pick an average one? No remarkable speed or looks.” Cor asked trying to see if his logic would work with someone else.
“I personally wouldn’t. An average guy would steal an average horse I guess. Maybe they had no eye for horseflesh.” Gladio acted as if he wasn’t serious, but Cor knew his deputy was thinking way deeper than what she showed. “Unless I’m stealing the horse for a purpose not for money. Then I would look for a specific horse. One that serves my purpose.”
“You said the horse was brown, no markings?” Cor turned towards the girl who had the most curious expression on her face. That made him smile a bit, unlike the brother this one was using her brain. The father would do well to leave the property to her.
“Most unremarkable horse you could see. Common as they come.” He could see in her eyes that she understood what was going on here.
“Ada, thank you for the help. I will keep you updated if we find the horse.” Cor offered her his hand to walk her out and she took it.
“Marshal, I don’t care about the horse. My brother would say otherwise, but nobody cares what he says. Just let me know when the bastards will be hanged.” Cor smiled at her words. Her and him both would like to watch. Once she was out Cor turned towards Gladio who was chucking.
“What?” Cor asked as he walked towards his desk.
“Nothing, you just offered her a hand and the whole nine yards. Never seen you do that. I never thought a damsel in distress would be your type of woman.” Gladio walked towards the chair where she was sitting and sat on it.
“Does she look like damsel in distress?” Cor smiled. “I’m just being nice. I’m not you.” Then he continued on what was really bothering him. “They didn’t kill her, meaning they are most likely thieves, not murderers. They also didn’t force themselves on her, I guess there is some honour amongst thieves. They took the most common horse.”
“They are going to do something and don’t want to be recognized. Not by clothes, not by their horses.” Gladio continued his train of thoughts.
“Do me a favour. Check all trains, stagecoaches and pretty much anything that is due to arrive in town today, tomorrow or even in a week.” This time he was going to catch them. “And tell Noct we might need extra security on the bank.”
Nyx was moved from the marshal’s office to the sheriff’s office. Another cell, another piss pot, another few hours spent doing nothing but mostly shouting at people. If he ever found out how that gun was placed in his pocket he was going to kill the bastard. Why would anyone put a gun in his coat? A prank? Hell of a prank that was.
“So, you have no explanation regarding the gun?” the young sheriff asked him again and Nyx felt himself losing it.
“For tenth time, no. It is my coat, yes, it is not my gun, my gun is somewhere in your possession and I do not have enough money to buy a new one. We still haven’t sold the cattle so my pockets are not exactly deep.” That was getting so frustrating. Part of him started wishing that was his gun at least that whole thing would have some sort of purpose.
They were interrupted by a knock on the door and the young blond deputy opened for…
…Nyx cursed his luck. It was the girl from the other day. That pretty girl, dressed in white with smile to die for. He made a step backwards hoping she won’t see him, but the cell was right in front of the door. Unless she had terrible sight, there was no way to miss him.
“Hey, Luna.” The sheriff greeted her and walked towards her.
“Brought you lunch guys.” She placed the basket she was carrying on one of the desks. “Nothing special, but I saw Gladio at the train station and he mentioned you guys have been busy and probably haven’t had breakfast.”
“Jerky!” The young blond deputy, the one that had pulled a gun on Luche was already digging in the basket and just now Nyx realized he hadn’t eaten anything since last night. He would admit to whatever crimes he was accused of just for a piece of that jerky.
“Prompto, manners.” Nyx remembered the guy who said that. He played cards with them the other night with the Marshal. His name was Ignis and certainly was the best dressed man he had ever seen in the west.
“Thank you, Luna.” The sheriff said and started digging in the basket. So, her name was Luna, Nyx liked it.
“What did he do?” she pointed at Nyx and he felt worse than before.
“Nothing.” He responded annoyed, it wasn’t at her, he just wanted to make the same point, again, to the sheriff and his deputies.
“Shut up.” The sheriff said without even looking at him.
“I will leave you to it guys.” Luna said and kissed the sheriff’s cheek. Nyx’s heart sank deeper than before. “I will try to drop by again soon, Ravus has some business out of town the coming days so I should be able to visit you more often.”
Nyx ignored the rest of the goodbyes and wondered who Ravus was. Her husband? She wouldn’t be kissing the sheriff if that was the case. Or maybe she would? No, she didn’t strike him as that type of girl.
“What do we do with him?” Ignis asked as he was sharing the lunch with his friends. Nyx was so hungry…
“That’s what the Marshal warned you against wasn’t it? That you can’t charge him for gun possession.” Prompto added and Nyx could feel new wave of anger building in him.
“You cannot charge me?” he yelled at them, all three of them turning towards him, obviously not impressed. “I have been in prison cell for night and half a day and you cannot even charge me.”
“Shut. Up.” The sheriff said and turned again to his lunch.
“Well yes and no.” Ignis adjusted the glasses on his face. “There is no federal or state law against gun possession in town. However, you are the sheriff and you can take ‘measures’.”
“The measure being sticking an innocent man in jail.” Nyx wasn’t going to let that go. The sheriff just turned towards him, this time he didn’t say anything but it felt like his blue eyes were piercing Nyx’s soul.
“You cannot charge him without a judge, but you can set fine or in his case a bail.” Ignis continued, absolutely ignoring the small exchange between the sheriff and Nyx.
“Fine.” The sheriff was still staring at him. “The fine for breaking Insomnia’s law is two hundred dollars. If you pay them you could walk free.”
Nyx opened his mouth in protest then closed it. He didn’t have that much money.
#nyx ulric#tredd furia#luche lazarus#cor leonis#gladiolus amicitia#ignis scientia#Noctis Lucis Caelum#my writing
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“per ardua ad astra” - chapter three
I STILL LOVE JYN. A LOT.
And in case anyone’s wondering: yes, Starfleet was originally the name for the Imperial navy, and you will take it from my dead cold fingers.
last chapter:
She hadn’t forgotten. But just for a moment, Cassian had meant the cool-headed spy, somewhere out there glowering at the unworthy, not the man who carved up his own body getting to her.
Soon, she promised herself. He’d be himself again, preaching about the cause, and she, well, she’d figure out what she was. Maybe a Rebel. Definitely free.
this chapter:
“She’s the daughter of Queen Breha of Alderaan,” he said. “And Senator Organa, though she’s had his seat in the Senate for a couple of years. By the way, there’s no Senate any more.”
“No Sen—” She’d think about that later. If she had to. “This Princess Leia is a traitor?”
“A Rebel spy,” he affirmed.
chapters: one, two
Jyn didn’t know what it said about her that she could recall Cassian’s measurements from a glance at his Alliance profile two weeks ago, but had no idea of her own.
Didn’t matter, anyway. The assistant sighed and sent her to an adjoining chamber, where hovering, ball-shaped droids measured some half-dozen men and one other woman, all in various stages of undress. Ten minutes of pokes and prods later, a slightly more human-shaped droid handed her a provisional uniform, and she escaped back to the requisition center.
Then she had to wait for the assistant again.
Adjusting her grip on Kaytoo’s head, she imagined what he’d say, were he—what he’d say. If there was anyone who would find it as ridiculous that she stood there in lines while Cassian fought for his life and Bodhi tried to escape torture, it had to be Kaytoo. An excellent use of your time, Jyn Erso. There’s a seventy-eight percent chance of your being caught and killed or blown into smithereens in the meanwhile. Just so you know.
At last, the assistant looked at her again. In a bored voice, he said, “Are you requesting a new K2 unit, as well?”
“Absolutely not,” said Jyn. She caught herself. “Not yet. We’re hoping to extract valuable data from this one.”
“Measurements, then?”
She didn’t feel seven inches shorter than Cassian. She gave them anyway, the assistant sent in the order, and she was free.
In a trapped-in-the-Empire sort of way.
It took her an hour of vague advice, wrong turns, and wandering identical halls to figure out the way to Room F1813. It took another hour just to get there, by which point she felt like her spine might collapse on itself. She typed Cassian’s code into the key panel and stumbled inside.
Like everything else in the Death Star, Cassian’s quarters were a sea of stark grey metal, bleak, severely regular, and devoid of anything like character. She had no doubt that a thousand other chambers looked just like this one.
A square room with two hard beds on either side. Two metal dressers and narrow closets. Two short lockboxes. Bright, steady lighting. And a refresher.
A refresher. Her mouth nearly watered. If a Starfleet captain didn’t rate luxury, he at least got decent amenities. And for Jyn, it was the closest thing to luxury she’d had in a long, long time.
All because they were caught in the Death Star, she reminded herself, and dread welled up in her again. This was a nightmare. They’d be dead in an instant if anyone guessed the truth, or anything remotely approximating the truth. She’d give just about anything to escape, if she could be sure of taking Cassian and Bodhi with her.
Still, she might as well enjoy this while she had it. Jyn set Kaytoo’s head in one of the boxes and headed to the fresher. There, she found a sink, mirror, toilet, and—Force, a shower. A tiny one, but with real water and soap. She could almost have cried.
Jyn set down the Imperial uniform and started peeling off her own gear, so caked with sweat and dirt that they stuck to her. Never mind that. Wincing, she tore the cloth and leather off her skin as fast as she could. In the mirror, she could see whole streaks of bruises—not like Cassian’s, but bad even for her.
She was alive. Nothing else mattered.
Jyn stepped into the shower. When hot water poured over her, she—maybe she did cry. Just a little. At her feet, the water swirled brownish-grey, even before she began relentlessly scrubbing herself. The soap suds in her hand darkened, too, but she could actually see her skin. Jyn blew stands of clean hair out of her face and smiled.
Force be with you, she thought at Quartermaster Brakas, then remembered what he was. Oh, well.
Now the water poured clear and clean down her body. Jyn lathered up her hands one last time and washed her necklace clean, polishing the crystal as well as she could. She didn’t think it had saved the mission, saved her. Cassian had done that, and Bodhi, and Jyn herself. But still, she thought of breezing through regulations, Bodhi slipping under the radar, Cassian in bacta, and closed her hand over it.
Thank you, Mama.
Ten minutes later, Sergeant Lyr stared back at her from the mirror. At her breast, the crystal shone bright.
She hadn’t come this far to turn back now. Lyra, wherever she was, would understand.
With a sigh, Jyn untied her necklace, sliding it into one of the pockets of her trousers. Then, last of all, she picked up her cap and set it on her neatly parted hair.
Jyn saluted Lyr and strode out.
This time, she managed to find her way in a mere eighty minutes. Bolstered by her uniform, she just marched up to a stormtrooper and asked for directions to the bay on the seventh floor of Quadrant G Northeast. Like most, he obeyed without question.
As she approached the medbay itself, though, her sense of achievement faded. It had been six, nearly seven hours. And she’d heard nothing of Cassian or Bodhi in that time. Nothing of the plans. Nothing at all.
The same medic as before stood at attention in front of the doors.
“Oh,” he said to Jyn. “It’s you again.”
“And you’re still here,” she replied. “Who are you, anyway?”
“Corporal Pralit.” He covered a yawn. “You missed my off-shift. I just started again.”
“Ah,” said Jyn. “Well, as you can see, I’ve been disinfected. May I see my commander now?”
“Let me check his status. Willix, right?”
She nodded, and he tapped into his datapad. After a moment, he swiped across the screen, as lazily as he did everything else. Jyn suppressed the urge to throttle him.
Cassian would be … he wouldn’t be …
She forced herself to even breaths. There was nothing that Jyn, herself, could have done for him. She’d handed him over to—yes, the Empire, but it had been the only way! They all would have died otherwise, or worse. And leaving him alone, well, she had left him to the best care the galaxy offered. It would have been suspicious to stick around like a fretful wife or sister; he’d be the first to say so.
“Alive,” said Pralit.
Jyn closed her eyes, then opened them. To her horror, her legs felt weak and unsteady, almost gelatinous. She hadn’t been off them since before Scarif.
“And?” she demanded.
“He’s been in and out of bacta all day,” he said. His eyes scanned the screen in front of him. “They’ve scheduled another treatment in an hour. Looks like the bones are healing well, so it’s got to be the lung.” Pralit scrolled down. “Oh, sepsis. That explains it.”
“Explains what?” she said.
“Blaster wound must be infected.” He gave her a patronizing look. “It’s shock to the immune system. Usually from bacteria. Even if he’s awake right now, he won’t be able to string two sentences together. But if you insist on seeing him, I can give you access.”
“I insist,” said Jyn.
“Figured.” The datapad beeped. “There you go.”
Walking into the med-bay, she hardly saw anything or anyone in front of her. She just repeated Bed Thirty-One until someone led her to a room with two female medics, a droid, and a man in a raised bed. Behind her, the door slid closed, and the roar of the bay disappeared into the hums and gentle beeps of the machinery.
“You’ll be Sergeant Lyr?” said the smaller of the medics.
“Yes.”
Jyn stepped forward to look down at the man. Cassian, of course—unmistakably Cassian. At the same time, she could hardly see Cassian in the person lying there, weak and pallid and silent. At least a dozen different wires connected him to the machines, as if he were the droid instead of Kaytoo. Liquid slid down the tubes, most of it clear, some bright red.
Cassian himself didn’t so much as stir at her approach. She had seen him sleep before, of course, in snatches between Yavin IV and Jedha and Eadu. But if anything, he’d seemed more off-putting asleep than awake. Still tense, still indifferent, just devoid of any sort of animating spirit, with neither his usual concentrated zeal nor his occasional half-smiles. Now, though, he lay peacefully, the premature lines on his face smoothed out, eyelashes motionless on his cheek.
“He’s still unconscious,” said Jyn. “Why?”
“Induced coma,” the medic said. “It’s preferred to anaesthesia for prolonged bacta treatment.”
“Good idea.” As long as it didn’t mean anything in itself, it might be for the best. Force knew what Cassian could say under anaesthesia.
Dryly, the medic replied, “Thank you for your input.”
Jyn would have prickled at another time. As it was, she only half-heard. She kept her eyes fixed on Cassian’s chest, the slow, even rise and fall of his breath. Her pulse slowed, as if somehow constrained by his.
With an effort, she remembered where she was, who she must be. She turned to the medics.
“He reacts poorly to anaesthesia, doctor. You are Doctor …?”
“Esten,” the medic said. She didn’t bother to introduce the taller medic, who remained silent and exuded an air of deference.
“Dr Esten, what is the captain’s overall condition?”
“Stable,” said Esten. “He’s lucky—”
“Oh, clearly.”
Esten rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Lucky that he didn’t completely shatter the impacted bones. Apart from the ribs, comparatively few were broken, and all have responded well to treatment. The fractures in the tibiae are still healing, but the kneecaps, femura, and so on are in good shape. He’ll walk like it never happened.”
“Apart from the ribs,” Jyn said. She looked back at Esten, whose pale, shrewd eyes peered out from beneath an uneven fringe of greying black hair. She could have been almost any age between forty and sixty, but certainly gave the impression of the latter.
“The ribs are a concern,” Esten acknowledged, “chiefly for the sake of his lungs, though they are healing at a typical pace. We have no reason to expect any unusual degree of trouble.”
There was always reason to expect trouble. Especially now.
“The blaster wound is a greater concern,” Esten went on, “thanks to septic infection. It has been treated and I believe is now controlled, but we’ll be keeping him under observation to make sure there are no recurrences. If it heals improperly, there could be permanent damage to the surrounding tissues and nerves.”
“Right.” At this rate, she’d have to break him out of med-bay. But at this rate, he wasn’t going anywhere soon at all. Brusquely, she added, “What sort of timeline are we looking at?”
Esten regarded her with palpable distaste, which Jyn considered promising. Sympathy would be dangerous—recognition of a deeper attachment, or a different one, than might be expected to exist between a mid-range captain and his aide. And if she disliked Jyn for the sake of an unknown patient, presumably she was a dedicated physician.
“Anything from a few days to a few weeks,” she said. “It depends on his response to the bacta.”
They certainly didn’t have a few weeks.
“Very well,” said Jyn. “When do you expect him to come out of the coma, doctor? I do not mean to waste time watching him sleep.”
Esten’s jaw twitched. “Hopefully tomorrow afternoon, Sergeant. But he will not be equipped for any serious demands on his attention.”
“Of course,” said Jyn. “I will return tomorrow, then.”
She turned on her heel and stalked out of Cassian’s hospital room, through the med-bay, and then out the main entrance, beating back the hot pricking of her eyes all the way. She felt faintly soiled. More than faintly. Did it feel the same to Cassian?
Everything I did, I did for the Rebellion. Not the words of a man who enjoyed the choices he made. Not even the words of a man who believed them right, except as necessary sacrifices for a greater moral end. Perhaps he hated this near as much as Jyn. But Cassian had the cause to live by, even his darkest paths lit by that clear, shining purpose. Jyn—she didn’t quite know what she had, even if she managed to claw their way out of this place. She believed, she hoped, she cared about the fight. She did now. And she wouldn’t give up, ever. She just … she couldn’t see herself existing in Cassian’s stark simplicities, everything bleak or brilliant.
In any case, she felt as if she walked backwards, back to Lianna. None of this for the cause, for some great end, just survival. But not hers alone, she reminded herself. Cassian’s and Bodhi’s. They needed her. That was a cause in itself.
“Lyr!”
Lost in her thoughts, Jyn had been paying little more attention on the way out of the med-bay than the way in. Now her head jerked up.
“Pralit,” she returned, and glanced past him. A chill raced over her skin.
A stormtrooper, heavy blaster in hand, stood waiting.
“This trooper insists on speaking to Captain Willix,” Pralit told her. “Some sort of official message.”
Jyn squinted at him. “Captain Willix is not in any condition to receive visitors, official or not. I am Sergeant Lyr, his aide-de-camp.”
The trooper saluted her and stood at attention. “RK-1301, Sergeant. I have an urgent message for the captain with regard to his last post.”
She’d know that voice to her death.
Bodhi.
Jyn and Bodhi walked purposefully towards nothing in particular. Nobody paid the slightest attention; audacity, she thought, once more carried the day.
But she had only rarely seen lone stormtroopers. Even in costume—in uniform—vigilance gnawed at her.
In a clear voice, she said, “The message, trooper?”
“Uh,” said Bodhi. “It’s with regard to his previous post, at the Scarif facility. Confidential.”
“Of course it is,” she said impatiently, and headed towards a random elevator.
The moment its door closed behind them, Bodhi took off the helmet and rubbed sweat from his face. “So I’ve—”
“Put it back on,” ordered Jyn. “You can never be too careful, trooper.”
Bodhi stared at her, then peered up at the ceiling. “There’s no—right, right. Sergeant.” He put the helmet back. “Well, there’s good news and bad news.”
“Bad news first.” She punched in the numbers for her floor. The elevator just beeped at her.
“Captain Willix feared that the Rebel attack on the Citadel had a … uh, a more specific aim than crippling the facility. He was right.”
“Oh?” This elevator must not even be on the same system. Not that it mattered. She chose Floor Q13(G) and hoped it wasn’t busy.
“The Rebels definitely took something from the Citadel. The brass are furious, so it doesn’t seem like it’s been recovered. That’s what my commander says.”
His commander? Jyn wished she dared ask what on earth he’d gotten himself into. And how. Instead, she said,
“A file from the archives, I imagine. And what’s the good news?”
Bodhi shifted his weight from one foot to the other, head dipped as he adjusted his grip on his blaster. Jyn swallowed.
“Well?”
“We managed to track the file, or whatever it was, to the ship that received it. I wasn’t told the name, but apparently it was some sort of consular vessel en route to Alderaan.” His voice wavered. “We tracked the ship and captured the passengers.”
Abruptly, she felt very far away, cut off from her own body, or some temporary occupant of it. The plans had got out. They really had. And then the Imperials had retrieved them anyway. It was all for nothing. Chirrut and Baze. Kaytoo. All those soldiers who had followed her and Cassian to horrific deaths—all of it, every sacrifice, every moment of it, for nothing!
She laid a hand on the wall of the elevator, steadying the body that trapped her. A very ordinary, clean hand, she saw. No filth, no blood. Not even under the nails. Callused skin over functional bones.
Some small, remote part of her could think of nothing but clenching the hand into a fist and beating it against the walls until it bled, until the bones all broke and—and—
Doesn’t seem like it’s been recovered, he’d said. Even if it had been, of course, a random stormtrooper wouldn’t be told. But stormtroopers might well be told if the higher-ups were enraged over something. They’d be the ones sent to recover the plans, wouldn’t they?
Jyn lived again, the pulse at her throat entirely her own.
“All the passengers?”
Bodhi paused, then nodded. “Yes. Darth Vader himself captured Princess Leia and is bringing her here.”
“Princess Leia,” said Jyn, trying to think of who the hell that was. The Rebellion had a princess?
Of course it did.
“She’s the daughter of Queen Breha of Alderaan,” he said. “And Senator Organa, though she’s had his seat in the Senate for a couple of years.”
“This Princess Leia is a traitor?”
“A Rebel spy,” he affirmed.
Like Cassian. Soon there would be another Rebel on this very … well, on this moon-sized base. She might end up hundreds of miles off, or not. But nevertheless, here.
And a captive.
“I was transferred to this quadrant only today,” Bodhi said carefully. “I had no trouble, since Princess Leia and all the rest of it has everything in an uproar. That tells you how chaotic it is right now.”
Through a veil of horror, she replied, “Her capture is … is certainly good news. I am surprised that I hadn’t heard it yet.”
“Nobody knows the details,” he said, “but my commander says that she’s still managing to cause trouble.”
“I can believe it,” said Jyn. Despite her best intentions, her voice shook, either from fear or that sliver of hope. She herself couldn’t have said. But she thought: if they’d gone after this princess to seize the plans, and captured her, and she continued to cause them trouble … she must have done something with them.
Probably.
And whatever it was, if the Empire captured everyone onboard, then—what? Were the plans hidden? Lost with the ship? Or somehow passed on before the capture?
Jyn sent the elevator back to the med-bay’s floor. As they walked out, towards the correct one, she said,
“That doesn’t seem particularly confidential.”
“It’s all the transfers,” said Bodhi. “And the excitement, I think. Things have a way of getting out.”
Jyn thought of her father, and her voice trembled again. “I suppose so.”
During the hour it took them to reach Cassian’s quarters, Jyn either barked orders at Bodhi or closely questioned him, ignoring his nonsense answers. With anyone else, she might have enjoyed it. With Bodhi, she just felt like slime.
Yet again, she wondered how someone as fundamentally decent as Cassian did it. And this was just making someone feel bad, maybe. Not sabotage and assassinations and who knew what else.
Sabotage. She didn’t think anything they might manage could seriously harm the Death Star. But maybe something—plans or no plans, maybe they could make some use of their presence here. Secret cards up the sleeve for the Rebellion, even though the Rebellion itself could have no idea.
At the door, Bodhi said uncertainly, “Sergeant?”
“What?” she snapped.
“Are you … inviting me into your quarters?”
Despite everything, she had to repress a smile. He sounded profoundly unenthusiastic. A good wrinkle if anyone happened to be observing, and hopefully genuine if they weren’t.
“Don’t be absurd,” said Jyn. “I just need your comlink code in the extremely unlikely case that Captain Willix wants to hear you personally. It’ll only be a few minutes.”
She typed in the passcode and marched inside, pretending not to care whether he followed her or not. After a pause, he marched through just before the door snapped back into the wall.
Jyn sat down on the nearest bed, exhaling a quick breath. “Thank the Force.”
Voice still muffled, Bodhi said, “Have you checked for—?”
Bugs. With all her paranoia, she hadn’t thought of that. The privacy of the captain’s quarters had seemed like a sanctuary, or the closest thing they had to it.
“No,” said Jyn, and they spent the next several minutes combing the quarters for any sort of surveillance devices. They found nothing, which might or might not mean they existed.
“Never mind,” she decided. “I’ll risk it. We have to be able to talk openly somewhere.”
Bodhi, helmet in his arms, heaved a sigh of relief. “And there have got to be hundreds of thousands of people on this thing. They won’t be watching every random stormtrooper or NCO.”
That made sense. But her nerves still buzzed. She sat down before her legs could buckle.
“I can’t believe we did this,” Bodhi went on, and flopped onto one of the beds, armour and all, staring at his helmet. “I mean, I didn’t really think we could, even when I was trying.”
“You know what they say,” said Jyn. “Fear’s a great motivator.”
“Fear? You?” He turned his head to look at her, brows lifted in almost comical surprise.
She had always been afraid. Afraid of capture, death, loss, betrayal. Always something. The fearless didn’t live for survival alone, as she had. It made for a small, desperate life, but it had been hers. She didn’t even realize how miserable it was, until—
“Yes, me,” she said, meeting Bodhi’s eyes. The fearful didn’t always live for survival, either. “Maybe you noticed that I’ve been a bit over-cautious here.”
He gave an uncertain smile. “I’m not sure we can be over-cautious here. Not if we’re going to survive.”
“We have to do more than survive,” Jyn said. She desperately wanted to lie down, as well, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she leaned her elbows against her thighs, chin against her curled hands. “They’re one princess away from getting the plans back. We’ve got to figure out a way of stopping them.”
“Or none of it mattered.” She could hear his gulp from across the room. “But what can we do?”
“I don’t know.” Jyn didn’t think she’d ever been so exhausted in her life, even with Saw. Her head felt like a patchwork of a thousand different bruises, every muscle ached, and she hadn’t eaten for hours. Still, she forced herself to think.
Break Princess Leia out, Jyn’s instinct said, but they’d never get away with it. Not with no path of escape. Track down the princess, maybe, see what she’d done with the plans. They could figure out their next move from there.
And there couldn’t be a next move until Cassian got better. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jyn pressed the heel of her hand against the jabs of pain in her forehead. She couldn’t help Cassian. Not now; she’d done all she could for him.
“You saw Cassian in the hospital, didn’t you?” said Bodhi. He was no Jedi, nor Temple monk either, but she still eyed him. “He’s the spy, not us. He must have some ideas.”
“He hasn’t woken up yet,” Jyn replied. If she could, she’d wipe the memory of Cassian limp in that bed from her mind. Forever. “They’re keeping him under until the worst is over. So not many ideas, no.”
She regretted the harshness in her voice as soon as she spoke—regretted it with Bodhi, if few others. Rather to her surprise, however, he didn’t flinch or even look that somber.
“How is he?”
“Alive,” said Jyn grimly. But no need to make things worse than they already were. She managed a tight smile. “The doctor thinks he’ll make a complete recovery. It’s just a question of when.”
“When,” he repeated. Sitting up, he set the stormtrooper helmet aside. “No way we’ll get away with this for very long.”
She honestly didn’t know.
“The Willix thing is real,” she said at last. “I mean, what goes for real with Cassian. He gave me his code while you were shouting for help. It’s how I got all this.” Jyn waved at the quarters.
“So we might make it.”
If the Rebellion doesn’t have the plans. She didn’t feel the need to say it aloud. “It’s possible.”
“I can keep my head down,” said Bodhi. “Is that all we do now?”
“No.” Jyn’s hands balled even tighter. “We need to find out everything we can about what’s going on. Listen to the troops’ gossip, that commander of yours, anything you can hear. But don’t risk your cover. I’ll do the same thing.”
With a heavy breath, Bodhi nodded. “All right.” He rose, his face strained as his armour jangled against him.
“And Bodhi?”
He blinked over at her.
Her thoughts felt sluggish, but they latched onto one thing. With a final effort, she managed to get to her own feet and walk over to him.
“If your unit gets deployed, go. It’ll be your best chance at escape.”
Bodhi did flinch that time. “But you and Cassian—”
“Go,” repeated Jyn. Setting her fists on her hips, she scowled up at him. “One of us living is better than none.”
He hesitated, turning the helmet over in his hands.
“You can try and get word to the Rebellion, let them know we’re stuck in here.” She didn’t think they could seriously do anything, but you never knew. Either way, if Bodhi got out, it’d be—worthwhile, in its way. Even if she and Cassian died the way she’d started out, stuck in an Imperial prison.
Finally, he nodded. “I will. But I don’t think it’s very likely for this unit. It’s a mess. Anyway, while I’m here, how am I supposed to get information to you or Cassian? If someone notices that we keep meeting up, then …”
“We can’t meet,” she agreed. For once, though, it was a problem with an easy answer: the very pretense on which she’d led him inside. “Give me your comlink code. I’ll sync ours up as soon as we have them.”
A bit sheepish, he read off the string of letters and numbers, readily accepting that she’d remember. She would, of course, but the easy faith touched her nonetheless. She didn’t even wince when Bodhi suddenly wrapped his arms around her, the panels of his armour biting into her bruises.
“We’ll make it,” he whispered. “Somehow.”
“The same way we’ve done everything else,” said Jyn. Awkwardly, she returned the hug. “May the Force be with you, Bodhi.”
With a determined smile, he put the helmet on his head and headed to the door.
“And with you, Jyn.”
#anghraine's fic#jyn erso#bodhi rook#death star au#/#//#///#////#star wars#otp: welcome home#per ardua ad astra#pralit#cassian andor#(mostly in spirit but. technically.)#i had sort of vaguely assumed that 'lyr' would be agreeable and pleasant#but when i sat down to write i was like......no#jyn the fake imperial would be obnoxious as fuck#<3
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Character Development: Tips & Tricks - Ash's Guide to Personality & Background Part II
Welcome back to Character Development: Tips & Tricks!
The last few articles have covered the Personality section of Ash’s Guide to RPG Personality & Background. The next three articles are going to cover the Background section of the Guide; we’ll still be working with my character, Nritya Maji, who we've been working with in the last few articles, and we’ll watch her character sheet continue to grow as we make our way through the rest of the guide.
Part II of the Guide is all about character Background. The information at the beginning of this part of the Guide points out that no matter what setting you’re in, there’s really no hard and fast rules to making a background for your character, so you can use as much of what’s presented in this section, or as little as you want, just as before. Ash is just giving a guideline to help you help yourself and your storyteller or gaming group and those you encounter as you play your character. You may or may not ever address everything you come up with during this section of the Guide, but at least you’ll have it down if you do!
Today, we’re going to look at the first three parts of the Background section – Birthplace, Family, and Professions & Crafts. This gives the basic foundation for your character’s background, the solid ground for which everything begins to be built and worked from. While Birthplace will be variable from setting to setting, Family and most Professions & Crafts will be fairly similar regardless of what setting you’re working in, aside from racial templates and game specific professions and crafts being added.
For Birthplace, Ash gives some pretty good general guidelines to use to describe the location – Name, Location, Size, Geography (i.e. desert, plains, tropical, mountainous, tundra, forest, island, etc.), Weather, Industry, Local Government/Nobility, General Character/What Was It Like (i.e. hospitable, communal, ugly, sleepy, dangerous, educated, commercial, pious, stuffy, fun, historical, youthful, political, upscale, transient, depressing, laborious, etc.), and the last option of “Or were you born isolated from a population centre or in a group/family that travelled?” to cover nomadic lifestyles.
Let’s take a look at what Nritya's birthplace was like.
Name: Western Shroud
Location: The Black Shroud
Size: Small
Geography: Costal Forest
Weather: Variable, mostly warmer weather with rain
Industry: Fishing, Game Hunting
Local Government: Tribal Leadership
General Character: The village was small, made up of four families, not very welcoming of outsiders who weren’t also Miqo’te. There was a sort of serenity to the village otherwise, peaceful unless bothered, almost a little too idyllic.
So Nritya’s Birthplace is about what most Keeper of the Moon villages are like, as far as we know based on the scant lore we’re given. It can barely be considered a village, and is more like a well-made camp that has just been in the same location for so long, it has just become part of the scenery. A few buildings are now more permanent structures, but it’s nothing grand, since there’s only four families that live there.
Next, the Guide takes us into exploring Family, and this mainly looks at the close family of the character, not so much at the extended family. It does take into consideration that there may be a non-standard family make up, and asks a lot of questions about the family that really build an idea of what they were like.
While all the members of Nritya’s village were related in some way, let’s take a closer look at her family specifically.
Who was in the family? Nritya’s mother ran the household, as her father was a wanderer like many Male Keepers; while he visited frequently, he was not a stable member of the household. Nritya had an older sister, an older brother, and a younger sister; when he was old enough, her older brother began travelling with her father, so he wasn’t around much either while her sisters stayed at home for quite some time.
Who did what for a living? Nritya’s mother was once a huntress, but had taken up fishing and continued leatherworking after an injury. Both of her sisters were huntresses, while her father was a conjurer and her brother took up the sword. Nritya herself became interested in weaponry at a young age, though the village only had an old woman who made bows, spears, wands, and staves.
Socioeconomic Status? Since their family could provide both food and materials for clothing, Nritya’s family was about average in the village hierarchy. Her mother was the niece of the village matriarch, but that only gave so much status in a four family village; the other two families were headed by the sisters of the matriarch. Status really didn’t mean much in the village, not until it came time to decide if someone’s daughter could stay and settle or had to move on.
Family’s Reputation? The family was one of two that had produced male children, which was rare for Miqo’te. There was a hope that the boy would bring another woman back to the village to settle and expand the bloodline with, however he seemed to be courting favour elsewhere so far. Nritya’s mother was once known as an excellent huntress, however the folly of someone else’s kit had cost her the ability to hunt, and now she was forced to be just a fisher and a tanner. While both of her daughters were good huntresses, neither showed the proficiency of their mother. Nritya wasn't interested in hunting, although she was learning how to use a bow and spear – her passion was making weapons, which everyone found a bit odd, as she was even more enthusiastic about it than their original weapons maker.
Myths, Curses, or Legends? Aside from the usual Miqo’te myths and legends, Nritya’s village believed that the deep waters off the shores were cursed, which is why they built the village in the trees and not on the shores themselves; the waters would rise with the full moon, and the deep waters would come closer to the trees, as if they were trying to swallow them. They believed that Menphina would protect only the trees, as she had a pact with the elementals and animals within them.
Family Mental Illnesses? Nritya’s older sister suffers from Manic streaks, though she just has Manic streaks and is not Depressive. Her father suffers from Narcissism, and unfortunately her brother is developing a bit of Histrionic Personality Disorder as a defensive response to it. Her mother occasionally has episodes of Depression due to trying to handle the fact she can no longer hunt, and after trying to deal with her father and brother.
Who Raised the Character? While Nritya’s mother was the primary influence in her young life, the entire village worked on raising the young kits together. Each person had a different aspect they taught the kits, so the whole “it takes a village” expression was very literal. Nritya also spent a lot of her young life with the old weapons maker, learning to craft wooden weapons from her.
Extended Family and Relations with Them? Nritya knew a good number of her extended family, as they lived directly in the same village. The village also traded with other extensions of the family, both nomadic parts and another village deeper in the Shroud made up of cousins to the leader and her sisters. Although they found her a little odd, her great aunt’s families were friendly and kind to her, and she got along with most of the kits her age.
As you can see, these eight groups of questions can really flesh out a character’s family quite a bit. Without even getting too detailed, we've not got a pretty good chunk of Nritya’s family life built up, even though there isn’t a lot of Keeper of the Moon lore available out there. For a Miqo’te, she had a pretty normal childhood, with a pretty stable family, and a wonderful village that was full of kindness and love.
What? Well-adjusted characters do exist!
Next the Guide has a section for Professions & Crafts. As pointed out in the section explanation, Crafts are something the character can do, while Professions are something the character does to make money. Just because a character can make jewellery doesn't mean they necessarily have to do so for a living!
This section includes a huge table of Professions & Crafts��that are common to most game settings. Some of these can be applied to a setting even if they are not a mechanical option in the game – actors can exist anywhere, for example, but it’s highly unlikely that something like an MMO would have an Actor class or craft of any sort (though it’s more likely to exist in a table top).
The Guide again asks eight things about the Profession or Craft, and these can be answered for each Profession or Craft you give your character. For some characters, this part of the character sheet may get a bit lengthy. Today, we’ll only look at one of Nritya’s skills - drawing.
What level did you achieve? While she doesn't consider herself a master, Nritya is a highly skilled sketch artist, and has the ability to draw fine detail in her artworks.
Where did you train? Nritya learned on her own, starting by drawing in the sands on the shores. Her mother’s aunt was observant, and made her a sketchbook of sorts, and began teaching her what she knew, but Nritya soon surpassed what her great aunt knew. From there, it was just practising on her own and perfecting her work until it looked like the things she saw until she finally left the village for Gridania. It was in Gridania where Nritya finally got formal training from actual artists, flitting from artist to artist as she learned what she could from them and moved on; she still will compare works with other artist to continue to perfect her technique.
Did you break a contract to adventure? Nritya never entered into any formal contract to learn drawing with any artist. She did enter into one to learn weapon schematic design, and she did not break the contract she made with the smith.
Was the character part of a professional guild? She is still a part of the Blacksmiths’ Guild, the Carpenters’ Guild, and the Alchemists’ Guild as they all oversee the making of weapons of various types; there is no formal guild for artists that she’s aware of, so her drawing talents have only been applied to those guilds as a weapons designer.
Does the character own a business? Nritya is a freelancer, so technically she is a business owner, but she has no store-front to call her own. It’s not often she’s called upon to draw anything but weapons, however, and she’s often shocked when she is.
What drove you to leave the profession? She didn't exactly leave the profession, it was more of a lateral move from drawing everything to specifically drawing weapons. She’s still drawing, she’s just drawing schematics and concept designs more than still life work and portraits.
Was the profession a family business? No, as a matter of fact, her family is still rather thrown off by her choice to leave the village and nomadic life and live in the cities, and work on more than just the simple weapons they use in the village. They’re always startled when she comes home, as she dresses quite different from their tribal style, and her weapons are far superior to theirs. They can’t believe that her sketches in the sand have become what they are now.
As just as sketch artist, Nritya was making decent enough money, however as a weapons designer, she’s making more gil than she knows what to do with. She’s not particularly in it for the gil, which is why she doesn't really know what to do with it.
How successful are you in the business?
As mentioned, answering those eight questions for every craft can lead to a very lengthy character sheet, but it can be quite worthwhile to have down. It’s very likely that someone, at some point, is going to ask your character about how they got to where they were with their Craft or Profession, even if it’s just the storyteller’s NPCs – but I’ll be it’s another player character that ends up asking first! People are always interested when someone’s got in character crafting, they really are.
That wraps it up for this session of Character Development: Tips & Tricks. Join us next time for a look at the Guide’s section on Significant Past Events, which is another section that can be really short, or really long for your character.
Stay tuned!
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A Matter of Leverage - 6
Fandom: Fire Emblem Awakening
Style: Leverage!AU; modern setting; adventure/drama
Word count: 3,567
Read on Ao3
Robin adjusts the miniature camera on her pinstriped suitcoat. She shifts in her seat, feeling a little out of place after not having to dress up for so long.
“Is this good?” she asks, shifting the camera down before securing it tightly beside one of the buttons.
“Yep, I have a clear visual!” Nowi reports.
Robin nods, pleased with the result. Lon’qu sits across from her at the table in a backroom of the building. Distant cheers can be heard from outside as the latest round of races comes to a close. Inside, Robin waits for Nowi’s report the next room over where the camera links to her laptop.
“We’ve got a pair of eights,” Nowi says conversationally.
Lon’qu even cracks a smile—however small it is—when he turns his cards around to affirm it.
“I’ve got visual on Vasto,” Gaius chimes in. He’s stationed in the open foyer, dressed as one of the attending waiters, able to easily survey everyone coming in or out. “Already at the bar this early in the day? Tsk tsk.”
“Whenever you’re ready, Olivia,” Robin says, fidgeting with her collar.
“I still don’t see why I don’t get to wear the hat,” Nowi pouts.
“You can wear it after we’re done,” Robin says wearily, already having covered this numerous times as soon as Nowi spotted Olivia’s grandiose, wide-brimmed, flower-adorned hat.
Nowi humphs, but soon is caught up in listening to Olivia in action. She moves smoothly through the crowd, her ‘thank you darling’s and ‘lovely to see you again’s effortlessly making her appear as a woman in her element.
“You sure are good at accents, Twinkletoes,” Gaius says, resisting the urge to snicker through Olivia’s southern drawl.
“Through lots of practice, honey,” Olivia replies, still in character. She puts on a charming smile as she approaches Vasto at the bar, ordering himself a whiskey. “A bourbon, straight,” she adds. The bartender nods as he goes about getting the drinks.
Vasto gives a low whistle, glancing over. Olivia looks over slyly, favoring him with a grin.
“Now you’re a woman who knows how to order a drink. I like that.”
Robin makes an odd snorting noise as she tries not to laugh.
“Charlotte Sinclair,” Olivia provides sweetly. “You can call me Lottie.”
“Vasto,” he replies, looking her up and down. “Olio Vasto. And you can call me whatever you like.”
This time Robin’s snort is much more pronounced. Gaius even joins in, going for a comical take of the subtle gravel of Vasto’s voice.
“You can call me whatever you like,” he mimics. “I’m so suave and sexy and definitely know what the ladies want.”
“So, what brings you here?” Vasto continues. “Business or pleasure?”
“Business, officially. But it’s an easy thing to find the pleasure in it,” Olivia says, all honey.
“Oh, I know what you mean.”
“I know all about pleasure,” Gaius cuts in again with his Vasto impression. “Mine anyway. All the ladies I’m with always end up frustrated instead.”
Robin splutters, the sip of her drink she was in the middle of taking tumbling sloppily back into her glass.
“Cut it out,” Lon’qu warns sternly.
“Oh, come on,” Gaius says, though he doesn’t sound too bothered. “It’s that or make fun of all the stupid hats, and there’s only so many ways I can comically compare them to parade floats. Besides, Robin likes my humor.”
“Guys, you’ll distract Olivia,” Robin says hurriedly, but Olivia has effectively zoned out the extra chatter on her earpiece.
“So what exactly is this business of yours?” Vasto asks, leaning on the counter. He slowly runs a finger on the rim of his glass.
“Scouting,” Olivia replies. “I’m a bloodstock agent. You wouldn’t happen to be interested in purchasing a horse?”
“Depends,” Vasto replies as they both chuckle. “Got anything fast?”
“Is he talking about the horse or a secret rendezvous in a closet?” Gaius snorts as he walks over, purpose in every step.
“Fast is all well and good,” Olivia leans forward for a pretzel from the bowl on the table, brushing against Vasto in the process, “but I prefer mine with more… endurance.”
“That doesn’t clear things up for me, Twinkletoes,” Gaius teases while he’s still far enough away and covered by other conversations for Vasto to not hear.
Olivia discreetly holds up Vasto’s wallet as Gaius walks by, having slipped it out of his pocket when she reached for the pretzels. Vasto is far more interested in his and Olivia’s shortening vicinity to notice his wallet’s disappearance.
“Are you fairly new to the business?” Vasto asks, struggling for a moment where he decides where to rest his eyes. “I’m not familiar with your name.”
“Oh, I suppose you could say I’m a little camera shy,” Olivia looks down demurely, eyelashes fluttering. “I prefer to work quietly if I can, but I assure you, I’ve sold my share of winners.”
“Do you have it, Gaius?” Robin asks.
“I do now,” Gaius says, slipping a card reader from out of his breast pocket to slide Vasto’s card through it.
“Okay, I’m getting it now.” Nowi leans forward in her seat, humming herself a victory fanfare as she opens up Vasto’s account. “He’s got a limit of fifty thousand dollars on here.”
“Got that, Olivia?” Robin asks.
“And what’s this?” Gaius pauses as he puts Vasto’s card back into his wallet. “He’s put down money on a horse called Swift Wing.”
Olivia and Vasto both stand at the announcement of the next race. They follow a few others back out, Gaius tailing them with Vasto’s wallet in hand.
“One of my sales is actually in this next race,” Olivia leans in again under the pretense of being heard over the myriad other conversations taking place around them, taking the wallet back from Gaius to slip back into Vasto’s pocket while she does so. “Perhaps you’ve heard of Swift Wing?”
“I have,” Vasto grins. There’s a sort of nasty edge to it. “I hear he’s good. I’ve even placed a couple thousand down in his favor.” He offers Olivia his hand as they step into the stands. She accepts it graciously. “After this race, I’d like to buy you a drink with my winnings.”
“Oh, I’d normally love to, but as I said, I’m here for business first,” Olivia says with a good natured chuckle. Vasto follows her as she continues walking down the rows of seats. Down below, the gun fires and the horses take off. “I host an annual poker game here at the track, you see. It’s become a tradition for my high-end clients.”
“Is there room at the table for one more?” Vasto asks without hesitation.
“This is a high stakes game we’re talking about, Mr. Vasto,” Olivia replies amidst the cheers around them. She sits down, Vasto following suit. “The buy-in alone is fifty thousand dollars.”
“I’d like in,” Vasto presses.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Olivia purrs before looking over to the horses already nearing the finish line.
“We’re ready whenever you want to bring him over,” Robin says as the stadium interrupts into both cheers and boos yet again. “Though Gaius could stand to comb his hair.”
“Sure thing, mom.” Gaius makes a show of rolling his eyes as he pulls on his new suitcoat.
“Even Lon’qu gets to wear a hat!” Nowi whines, watching Lon’qu don a fedora.
“You can have it when I’m done with it,” Lon’qu replies. Even with his voice so flat, Nowi sounds touched.
“Aw, Lon-Lon!”
Robin can’t resist a giggle at the face Lon’qu makes in response to the nickname.
“Stop doing that,” Lon’qu grumbles. “Just use my name.”
“But Gaius has nicknames for everyone but you and I didn’t want you to feel left out!”
“I’m fine without it,” Lon’qu frowns.
“I don’t know,” Gaius plops down in the chair to Robin’s left. “Lon-Lon just might fit you…”
If looks could kill, the one Lon’qu shoots Gaius as he sits across the table from him is a fatal blow.
“Just this way,” Olivia directs Vasto after he picks up his winnings from a successful race.
Robin thwacks Gaius’s arm.
“Feet off the table.”
“Hey, I thought I was playing the spoiled rich kid!”
“That’s no excuse for tracking mud on a clean table.”
Any further argument is cut short as they hear voices in the hallway outside. Gaius hastily places his feet firmly on the ground. Olivia opens the door and steps inside, removing her large hat as she makes way for Vasto to come in.
“Evening, gentlemen, lady.”
Robin, Gaius, and Lon’qu each nod respectfully before looking at Vasto.
“Mr. Vasto, this is our friend Lance,” she points out Gaius, who winks and throws out finger guns. “He’s recently inherited the family oil business. Our daddies have worked with each other for some time.”
“We provide the oil, you provide the horses,” Gaius laughs, leaning forward to shake Vasto’s hand. “A pleasure to have you join us.”
“The pleasure’s mine,” Vasto returns.
“This here is Abel Bailey,” Olivia gestures to Lon’qu now. “And dare I say, he’s the best horse trainer around this parts.”
“Why isn’t he working for me then?” Vasto says with another nasty grin as he shakes Lon’qu’s hand.
“Because he works for me,” Robin leans forward, narrowing her eyes. Nowi starts giggling like mad over the coms at Robin’s Southern accent, but Robin powers through. “Igrene Thoron. And who are you?”
“Igrene,” Olivia cuts in before Vasto can speak, like one hungry to impress. “This is Mr. Vasto, the investor from New York.”
“Oh, you were the fella whose stable burnt down. And all those horses still in it. Mm. Not very good for business, that. Lettin’ your stable burn down.”
Robin laughs, but all Vasto can seem to manage is a bitter chuckle.
“Let’s get to it then,” Robin claps her hands together. “Lottie dear, would you like to—”
“Actually,” Vasto cuts in, “I’ve just got this new deck. I’d love to break it in.” He pulls a deck, still wrapped in plastic, from his breast pocket. “No one minds?”
“Sure,” Robin relents after only a second’s hesitation. “Just hand that over to Lottie so we can get on with playin’ and you can get on with givin’ me all your money.”
“No, no, no, no!” Nowi cuts in frantically. “This is no good! I can’t see through these ones.”
“Don’t be so sure of that,” Vasto remarks in a show of bravado.
“Don’t think that a fresh deck will be able to stop me from winning,” Robin says to Nowi as much as Vasto.
The game begins, Nowi making her discomfort known every so often with an annoyed whine. Thankfully, Robin is no stranger to the game of poker. If she’d learned anything from her father, it was how to play to win. She taps two fingers on the table three times a few rounds in, surveying the cards in her hand.
“Tell me, Igrene,” Olivia says, looking from Robin’s hand to her face. “How’d your last purchase work for you?”
“Quite well,” Robin replies casually. “I can tell it came from a good line.”
“Quite right,” Olivia smiles. Her hands fall to her lap at the start of the next round before she sets her cards down on the table. “I fold.”
Gaius, twirling his cards absentmindedly, is the next to back out. He pats Robin heartily on the back.
“I can never seem to beat you, ma’am.”
“Just the way I like it,” Robin grins, keeping her eyes on the cards.
Lon’qu lasts a few more rounds before he speaks.
“So have you gotten that latest remodel finished, Igrene?”
Robin smiles as the last card falls into place, resting in its hiding place up her sleeve.
“I have indeed.”
Despite the ever growing pile of chips on the table, Vasto is hardly phased. At last, Lon’qu folds and the money raises higher than Vasto can meet.
“What are you waitin’ on there, Mr. New York?” Robin says gruffly.
“I’m short about thirty thousand,” Vasto replies, unconcerned. “This watch on me is worth about—”
“Woah there,” Robin cuts him short. “We only play for cash and horses. Do you happen to have any of those left or did you really manage to lose all of your property?”
Vasto grinds his teeth, unamused by the dig.
“Fine,” he turns to spit. “I’ll put in my last horse.”
Pulling a pen from his pocket and an extra napkin on the table for setting drinks on, he writes down Luna’s name then signs, passing it over to Olivia beside him to sign as a witness. She does so, hand wavering for just a moment as pen meets napkin. With so many aliases under her figurative hat—the literal hat resting on one of the hooks behind her—Robin isn’t too surprised.
“And this is how we do things in New York. Settle up.”
“Sure thing, honey,” Robin chuckles. “Like I don’t know a bluff when I see one.”
“Oh really?” Vasto gives Robin a nasty grin, turning his cards around to a reveal four fives.
Robin sends a nasty grin back, turning her own cards over. Vasto swears as four queens stare back at him.
“You cheating son of a—”
“I’d thank you to leave my mother out of your bein’ a sore loser,” Robin leans back in her seat to better look down her nose at Vasto. “Abel, I’d be mighty obliged if you’d go about seeing that Mr. New York gets me my horse. And you…” Robin shrugs as she regards a livid Vasto. “You’re welcome to come back and play anytime. I can always take more cash. And more horses should you get yourself some more.”
“You wish,” Vasto scoffs. “This isn’t a binding contract, so good luck trying to take him from me.”
“Isn’t binding?” Robin scoffs back. “You had four fives, and I had four queens. Unless I’m mistaken, four queens is a lot better than four fives. I’m more than happy to spread the word around that Mr. Vasto the New York bigshot doesn’t come through on his bets if you’d prefer that.”
Vasto throws his cards up in the air, face flushed entirely red. Olivia leans far away in her seat as he storms past her, slamming the door on his way out. With Vasto gone, Robin reaches for the pile and Vasto’s signature.
“We did it,” Olivia sighs, back to her usual, quiet little voice.
“That we did,” Robin replies, rising from her seat.
“Didn’t doubt you for an instant, Bubbles,” Gaius grins, already shrugging off the tailored coat. “Comes from a good line, and a Q for queen. I almost get the feeling you’ve cheated at cards before.”
“That’s the way I was taught to play, anyway,” Robin returns the grin. “I have to ask though, why Bubbles?”
“Eh, you look like a Bubbles,” Gaius shrugs, making for the door as Nowi bursts through, holding her laptop under one arm.
Gaius dances around her as she makes a beeline for Olivia’s hat, placing it atop her own head without further ado. Snatching up the coat Gaius left behind, she drapes it over her shoulders and strikes a pose.
“How do I look?” Nowi says, dropping her voice down into what she likely suspects is a seductive tone.
“Dashing,” Olivia manages through a giggle.
“How are you going to fit my hat on there?” Lon’qu asks, tossing it lightly to let it slide across the table. Nowi snatches it up immediately.
“This will be my outdoor hat. Please, don’t you know anything about horse people culture?”
“I’m going to head back to my hotel room,” Robin announces, removing her earpiece and placing it carefully in the soft cases Nowi handed them all out in. “We can make the two hour drive back to Sumia and Cordelia’s in the morning to deliver the good news.”
“O-okay,” Olivia replies as Lon’qu nods. Nowi is too caught up in trying to balance the fedora on top of Olivia’s hat while still on her head to manage more than a strained “mm hm.”
Robin sets out at once, no more reason to stick around. She nods to Gaius on the way who’s started poking around near the betting station as the evening races start to gear up. There’s a warm feeling in her head, but she knows that it’s alcohol more than the accomplishment of helping Sumia and Cordelia. She frowns as she steps out into the cool air, inwardly chastising herself. She should quit, but old coping mechanisms are hard to kick. Still, she knows herself well enough that there’ll probably be a glass of wine to accompany her dinner regardless of her intentions.
A car door closes from somewhere behind her. Then there’s someone walking in brisk, measured steps. Fuzzy head or not, Robin feels that she should recognize something about that gait…
“A pleasant time of day for a stroll,” a familiar voice says as the gait slows to match pace with hers.
Robin manages to hide her surprise in a few seconds, but he’s already seen it.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” the tall man sounds like he’s resisting every urge to roll his eyes. Robin notes his hair has grown even longer, tied back neatly in a tail. “Foolishness does not become you.”
“I don’t see how taking a stroll is foolish, Jakob,” Robin replies casually. Her sluggish brain tries to piece together what reason he could possibly have for—
“It is when one considers the place you came from,” Jakob says, businesslike and stern. “Tell me, what reason could you possibly have for taking part in a poker game with the target of an open insurance investigation?”
“Investigation?” Robin cuts off her own line of inquiry as the pieces click together. “Ah. But the local law enforcement seem to be under the impression that the whole situation was an unfortunate accident.”
“Well, local law enforcement doesn’t have to pay up because of unfortunate accidents.”
“So you’re here to investigate the claim on the fire.��
“Yes. The only question that remains is why you’re here.”
They walk in silence for a few seconds before Jakob looks back at Robin with an appraising eye.
“You’re not here for some sort of harebrained scheme of yours, I hope. Those always were your style. Trick the client into airing some sort of dirty laundry, usually involving arson or fraud, then save the company from having to pay for it. I don’t see what you could possibly gain from it… unless you intend to use this in some plot to regain your old position at Excellus.”
“Yes, you’ve caught me,” Robin bites sarcastically. “I definitely want to go back to working for worms like Excellus.”
“As you like,” Jakob shrugs, unphased. He’s seen Robin angry before, and this isn’t the first time it’s been directed his way. “I’ve gotten rather comfortable in your old office, so you’ll excuse me if I’d rather not give up the lovely view.”
Robin says nothing, doing her best to regain her neutral façade. Jakob rests his hands together behind his back as he continues.
“Sumia and Cordelia are nice people, all things considered. A shame for them to get caught up in this.”
“They’re innocent,” Robin returns with a better rein on her temper than before.
“But that doesn’t matter either way. You can’t tell me you’ve been out of the game so long you’ve forgotten, Robin. Innocent, guilty… it matters not. You were the one to truly show me that. What matters is who pays.”
“I thought you cared more than that,” Robin tries to keep her voice level, but she can’t entirely withhold an edge of judgement.
“There are things I care about,” Jakob says, though he doesn’t sound it. “That’s why I do this. And that’s why I’m giving you this warning: do not interfere. There’s nothing you can do that I won’t be able to counter.”
“What if I’m not doing anything?”
“I do apologize. I didn’t realize I stuttered. There is nothing you can do that I won’t be able to counter.”
Robin keeps her face flat, but her fists still clench at her sides.
“I must thank you, really,” Jakob continues. “Vasto was getting to be boring. This proves to be… far more interesting.”
“Fine. I’ll just back off and let you—”
“Backing off when we haven’t even gotten started? How uncharacteristic of you. No, we both know there’s no backing down for either of us.”
“Robin!” Olivia’s voice calls.
Both Robin and Jakob turn around as Olivia pulls up in her car. She freezes like a deer in the headlights upon spotting who Robin walks with.
“Olivia Montoya!” Jakob says pleasantly. “It has been some time.” He turns to Robin, mildly amused. “Far more interesting, indeed.”
He inclines his head in something of a bow before he walks back to his own car. Robin shakily opens Olivia’s car door and collapses into the passenger seat.
“R-Robin?” Olivia takes Robin’s hand and squeezes. “Are—are you okay?”
Robin shakes her head, hiding behind her hands as she takes a shaky breath.
“We need a new plan.”
She wishes for a drink in her hand as she reaches for her phone to call the others, Olivia driving them away with a determined expression.
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