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blackindiaink · 3 years ago

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Alrit you funky little lesbian(gay,bi,pan,ploly,trans,nb,hetro) thing, I’ve got a prompt for you if you so dare answers this call for sapphic content. Scylla casually mentioning a time she got seriously hurt/nearly died and the rest of them being like what the fucq? How u so calm? Cause Scylla cares a lot for her people but she has been a soldier from the moment she was lost her parents. And also I don’t think the sprees boot camps are fully of flowers and all thing nice

Firstly, your prompt made me chuckle and I love that. Well, the start of it and your wording! They were brilliant. Also, lesbian is just fine. Scylla is a tough ass bitch and I hope this did your prompt justice. Note: I'm not going to read over the last part of this before posting so just slap me if there are mistakes.

Scylla didn't mind that no one in the group asked her a lot of questions about herself. Raelle was the only one who seemed to be interested in her beyond the cursory amount that small talk demanded. Even Tally was busy trying to figure out what exactly this weird thing going on between herself and Nicte was and Scylla was having fun watching it.

That changed the night that Nicte outted her. They were riding through a midsized rural town and stopped at a gas station just outside the city limits. The entire crew took it as a chance to stretch their legs and mill around the immediate area, congregating out front while Adil pumped the gas.

It just so happened that this gas station had a bar right next door to it and said bar was often frequented by troops of bikers that rode this way and that over Highway 101. It was well known by locals as a place to stay away from unless you liked associating with a rough crowd. The place was rife with brawls and disputes over the most trivial of things.

Scylla was minding her own business, sitting on a nearby crate of old oil cans when a burly looking man with a bushy brown beard approached her. He'd been standing over by a row of motorcycles with his buddies, talking about his latest conquest. As soon as he spotted Scylla, he was interested and being egged on by his companions.

So, off he went to sidle up to the pretty brunette with the nice body.

"You're to pretty to be out here all alone," he started.

Scylla's attention was redirected from the front of the gas station to the near six foot five man that was standing before her. She really wanted to roll her eyes but settled for a deep sigh instead.

"I'm not interested," she said, getting up from her seat.

"Woah, why are you so quick to run off? I just want to talk to you a little," he replied.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you," she said, raising an eyebrow and standing her ground.

"You don't even know me yet so maybe give me a chance and you might change your mind. I'm a pretty nice guy and I've got a really, really nice bike. I'm sure you'd like to ride it," he smarmed.

Scylla snorted and was about to shoot off a snarky reply about his aforementioned bike and it's lack of appeal when Raelle appeared.

"She said back off so get lost," Raelle growled.

Her voice was dangerously close to sounding augmented, indicating she was about to use work on this civilian.

"Raelle," Scylla cautioned.

She stepped forward and put her hand on Raelle's arm, slipping it down to entwine their fingers.

"Oh, there's two of you. Hey, I've got a buddy over there who would love to meet you. He’s very into cute little blondes," the guy said.

That was all it took for Scylla to step up to the man, staring him down with an intense gaze that made his attention snap to her.

“You’re going to walk away now before you can’t walk anymore,” Scylla warned.

Her voice was cold as ice and wavering like she was about to push this civilian or break his kneecaps with her bare hands.

“Connor! Brother, who are these pretty ladies?”

The question came from one of the biker’s friends who had just emerged from the bar and walked down to see what was going on.

“Let’s go,” Raelle said, taking Scylla’s hand and trying to walk away.

“Aww, don’t go. You haven’t even met Peter here. He’s a nice guy, not as nice as me but no one is,” Connor said.

Peter, in contrast to Connor, was on the shorter side, barely taller than Scylla and slender. He wasn’t without muscle tone though. They made an intimidating pair to anyone who wasn’t trained to kill like the witches that stood before them.

“You guys okay?”

It was Adil, approaching from the front of the store. Right behind him were Abigail and Tally with Nicte bringing up the rear.

“Oh, they’ve got friends,” Peter said, surveying the group. “You should all come in and have a drink on us. Especially you, sweet thing. I’d like to take you back to my place and let you ride my dick.”

The last bit was directed at Raelle, which definitely wasn’t the right thing to say at that moment. Scylla broke free of Raelle’s grip and advanced on the smaller man, kicking him in the groin as soon as she got within range. He doubled over and went to the ground but his friend reached over for Scylla only to grasp for air where her body had been. His next instinct was to punch and that did connect with Scylla’s cheek. Her head spun to the side with the force of impact, making her stagger to the side and out of his reach.

Peter got up pretty quickly and came at her but she stopped him cold with a hand on his neck. She squeezed hard and before Connor could get to them she leaned in, getting so close so fast that he had no time to react. She got right next to his ear and started whispering words that no one else could hear.

When she was done speaking, she stepped back and rejoined Raelle, a satisfied smile blooming on her features. Peter turned around and walked back toward the row of bikes, his friend Connor watching him with concern.

“Where ya going?” Connor asked.

Peter walked straight up to one of the bikes and tilted it away so he could move the kickstand from it’s downward position. He started to push the bike back toward the bar and then took a sharp left, veering off in the direction of the side of the road where there was a steep drop off and a thirty foot drop off down to the dry bed of a creek.

“Hey, that’s my bike!” Connor shouted.

He ran after his friend who was in the process of pushing the bike toward the edge of the road. Just before Connor could reach him, Peter gave the bike a hard push and sent it over the side, watching it fall down to the rocks below.

“What the hell!” Connor roared.

Scylla turned away, reaching for Raelle’s hand and walking back toward the bus with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“What was that?” Raelle asked, still looking behind them while being pulled along by Scylla.

“I suggested he take his friend’s bike for a walk off a steep cliff,” Scylla said as if it was the most natural thing ever.

“So… you pushed him?” Raelle asked.

Scylla shrugged and sighed.

“It was the fastest way to get rid of them without actually hurting them myself,” she replied.

The rest of the group trailed behind them and boarded the bus as well, all finding seats in and around Scylla and Raelle.

“We could have handled that differently. You shouldn’t be using work like that out in the open on civilians,” Abigail scolded.

“Back off, Abigail,” Raelle warned.

She turned to Scylla and put a hand on her shoulder, checking the spot where Connor’s fist had hit her. There was a cut and would most definitely be a bruise in the morning. Tally produced a tissue from a box that had been on the bus and gave it to Raelle who started to dab at the blood on Scylla’s face.

Scylla smiled at her and took the tissue leaning forward and putting it to her mouth. When she was done, bright red blood soaked the tissue.

“When he hit me I bit the inside of my lip so hard it started bleeding,” Scylla explained.

She didn’t want Raelle worrying too much. That punch was nothing and the only result it had was pissing her off more.

“Hey, that was pretty tame actually I would have skinned them alive,” Nicte argued.

“Of course, you would,” Abigail said.

“He hit you pretty hard. You sure you’re okay?” Tally asked.

“Yeah, looked like he rocked your world a little,” Quinn added.

“Yeah, better check her for a concussion. Necros don’t get nearly enough combat training so taking a punch might be a novel idea for you,” Abigail joked.

“Seriously Abigail?” Raelle groused.

“What? I was kidding,” Abigail replied. “Sort of,” she muttered under her breath.

Scylla took a deep breath and released it. She was still angry about what the guys had done, fed up with Abigail’s passive-aggressive bullshit, and mostly just tired.

“We did just as much combat training as you in basic and that wasn’t the hardest. To join the Spree, you have to go through training as well and it puts anything the Army throws at you to shame,” Scylla defended.

“She’s right. We designed it that way for a good reason. Why do you think Spree agents rarely ever break? The final trial is when we take them, disorient them and put them in an capture simulation.” Nicte added.

“You never told me about that,” Raelle said.

She had her hands on Scylla’s, her thumb rubbing circles on the soft skin over her knuckles.

“Not really something you talk about without a reason. It’s why they couldn’t break me till they brought you in. That was a genius move. It was the only way they would have ever gotten me to talk,” Scylla said.

“What happens when they capture you?” Tally asked.

“They torture you. You go through a week of it. They find out every fear you have and exploit it using work and physical means as well,” Scylla explained.

Everyone looked at Nicte who just shrugged. “How else are we going to get agents that can withstand interrogation?” She asked.

“I think the worst part was watching the delusion that I killed my own parents over and over, feeling their blood on my hands, seeing their eyes pleading with me to stop.” Scylla shrugged and leaned into Raelle’s body. “That was worse than the beatings.”

“What the actual hell?” Tally asked. She leaned over the tall seat back to place a hand on Scylla’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you went through that and you’re still okay.”

Abigail shook her head, silenced by the seriousness of Scylla’s revelation. She couldn’t imagine going through that for one day let alone an entire week.

“That’s some hard shit,” Abigail whispered.

“Point is, I can take a punch and a lot more than that if I need to. But hey, that other guy went down pretty fast, right?” Scylla said.

Her attempt to lighten things failed miserably now that everyone was shell shocked by hearing about Spree training. She looked up to Tally who was staring at Nicte with a new fear colouring her eyes. It was best she knew what Nicte was really like. Scylla might have to have a talk with her at some point about that. They’d been getting close and that worried her.

#raylla #raylla shorts #motherland fort salem #motherland: fort salem #raylla fanfic #raelle collar #scylla ramshorn #raelle x scylla #scylla x raelle #mfs fanfic #wlw

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kazdoesrp · 2 years ago

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hello everyone! my name is kaz and i’m 27, female, and i go by she/her. my discord is at the bottom of this post! please only 18+ partners apply! i’m making this post in search of roleplay partners that are literate and enjoy writing! the only thing i ask is that you understand i can’t always reply every second of every day. i’m a pretty patient person and communication is best. if you ping me every day asking if i’m still interested, it makes me a little nervous so please don’t do that!

i have some plots i’ve been wanting to find a dedicated partner for. these can be modified in any way and can be thrown into pretty much any fandom. right now i’m suggesting that they be period rps, d&d inspired or in the grishaverse realms... but i’m willing to discuss any of these with anyone!!!

IDEA #1: this is definitely d&d inspired and i have a female character sort of lined up already. so my girl is a little darker than them. finds herself in this small nothing town in the middle of no where on a quest for something. manages to rent out one of the village houses. has a gorgeous black fresian-like horse named goliath who she spends a lot of her time with and it’s just her and this horse. she can’t possibly keep him outside tied up so she boards him at the local stables and that’s where she meets your character ?? just a lil farm boy/girl/nb who could possibly be shy and curious about her. maybe they see her walking around and have been wanting to talk to her to say hello but oh she came to the stables what a perfect way to start a conversation... but she doesn’t say much. maybe some of the older folk in town have talked to her more or the bar keep or even your character’s family members and yeah. they wanna talk to her but she kind of just comes into the stable to spend time with her horse, pays them and mostly ignores them when they even try to talk to her. there’s also moments where her and her horse disappear for days on end ( but she makes sure to leave a note saying she took her horse and to not be worried ). i have it in her bio that she’s looking for her father ( a little rogue one type plot lol. i can send the google doc i have! ) and she always comes back empty handed or tired / hurt / fresh scars / something idk. but eventually the two start talking or someone is being mean to your character and she jumps in and defends them because they’re too sweet to really tell a customer off. idk man. definitely hades x persephone vibes. she’s dark, mysterious, blunt, quiet, intimidating and they’re sunshine, shy, bubbly, awkward, smiley and everything opposite of what she is. i would REALLY LOVE to write this out if someone would want to discuss it a little more! she’s a high elf rogue ( i believe, i need to double check my sheet ) but ........ yes hi. please someone.

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IDEA #2: basically the idea is of a prince and princess who have been betrothed to each other when they were young ( think something like reign with mary and francis ??? ) and they definitely think they’re each other’s soulmates. they probably visited each other every so many years to keep contact and stuff and idk it’s just cute. so things are good until they’re not, right? the prince and his family find themselves fleeing from the castle during an ambush on their kingdom. i’m imagining he either gets taken or is simply heading toward the docks, boards a ship and ... oop it’s a pirate ship? he becomes a pirate and sails the seas and all that good stuff and then eventually returns to try and get his life back. he earns trust and power out on the sea which gives him a bit more free reign to do as he pleases, maybe he gets money somehow, a crew and a ship and uses it to sail back home. maybe he doesn’t and just has crewmates that help him fake his death so he could go home and try and get his life back idk..... so while everyone thought he wasn’t alive anymore, it could be a surprise when he shows up to his betrothed’s castle / kingdom and it’s all wonderful and maybe a bit bittersweet if she was meant to marry someone else ??? also comes the fact that he’s probably not the same like he once was. definitely changed after years around pirates and on the sea and stuff. idk. i would love to discuss ideas with whoever took this! i think it’s a neat / cute idea that could be plotted out and refined a bit more!

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IDEA #3: this could be set in the grishaverse. another idea on the pirate thing is someone who is a pirate. probably has legends about them with how ruthless and terrible they are. there’s stories of “the shadow captain” or something along those lines and he basically has powers like the darkling. i imagine that he and the darkling were at the little palace together and the darkling was nervous of another shadow summoner coming up into power with him and maybe tried to kill him or get him captured / taken somewhere and boy managed to escape and is out on the seas. then obviously years pass and the darkling is really the only shadow summoner so people probably don’t believe shadow captain boy but he has a black kefta and it’s like a thing on the seas where only he’s allowed to wear black / have black sails or something just like the darkling... idk. ANYWAY. your character could be another grisha that was training at the little palace and they knew each other? maybe planned on running away together at some point and obviously things happened with him... maybe she could’ve gotten out and they meet somewhere?? i’m not sure.

on the same topic of this idea without it being in the grishaverse ... boy is captain of a “”ruthless”” ship. a myth or legend on the seas and like that type of person that parents tell their kids is going to come get them if they don’t eat their broccoli. definitely has a reputation and lot of power and he knows it. is probably a little unhinged, but is calculating and very good at what he does ( idk thomas shelby vibes imo ) AND YEAH ... your character finds themselves on their ship? either by accident or taken on there and is fearful of him or is obviously pissed off at being held captive ( maybe they could be a royal or someone from power or something ??? elizabeth swann vibes ?? ) and yeah they spend time on the ship and “oh it’s him ??? the oh so terrible captain ??? he’s not that bad. he’s kinda cute. he’s gentle when he talks to me and— what am i saying” kind of thing? and he’d be intrigued simply because idk... he might know who she is? i’m really game for discussing this a little more with someone!!!!

my discord is anakin skywalker™#0001 for anyone interested! just a friendly reminder to please message me your name, age, pronouns, any triggers you might have!! thank you for reading this far if you did omg.

#discord rp #1x1 rp #discord roleplay #period rp #period roleplay #d&d rp #d&d roleplay #grishaverse rp #grishaverse roleplay

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mythgirlimagines · 3 years ago

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Here is a brand new talentswap for this week! Let’s give a sweet welcome to Myth, the Former Ultimate Mathematician!

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BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Myth was raised by a family of academics and alumni of Hope’s Peak, and thus, Myth has a massive appreciation for all things academia. Ever since Myth was little, she has shown stunning aptitude in math, and eventually, it became her favorite subject in school. Myth was also captain of her school’s Math Bowl team, after usurping the previous captain in a battle of wits. Before Myth was invited to join the Hope’s Peak roster, Myth attended a very prestigious school district, and garnered local fame for her mathematical prowess. Her mathematical aptitude is so large, that she can solve complex mathematical equations, such as calculus, mentally and in under half a minute. These skills make her a valuable asset in both competitions and mathematical journals. As an adult, she runs a mathematics tutoring business, for younger struggling students.

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RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Baton Twirler

Two halves of a whole nerd, these two have been best friends ever since they first met in the same prestigious academy. As opposed to the math club, Wyre was part of the marching band as the head baton twirler, and garnered infamy for her prowess at leading the band. Despite Wyre’s wild and crude nature contrasting heavily against both her former academy and Myth’s personality, Wyre is like Myth’s personal cheerleader and hype girl, always there to pick Myth up on her low days and defend her against people who want to pick on Myth’s weight. In return, Myth offers Wyre tutoring to help her get through the private school.

Outfit: A blue and red majorette outfit with a matching hat, glasses are clean and unbroken.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Gardener

Fancying herself as the “Supreme High Overlord of The Valley of Death”, said ”Valley of Death” is actually simply a very large flower garden that Scar tends to all by herself. With a vast botanical knowledge and a caring and maternal nature towards both plants and people, underneath her constant supernatural boasting. Myth never really had much experience with botany, but she uses her conversations with Scar as learning experiences. While Scar finds Myth polite and kindhearted enough, Scar’s maternal instincts just flair up, every time she witnesses Myth get stressed and then shoving unhealthy snacks into her face.

Outfit: Hair in a side plait and decorated with small flowers, a hooded black cloak and matching makeup, over a copper and green dress, nothing on her feet.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Billiards Player

Originally from a less-than-fortunate family, Fusion has taken it to the pool tables to earn his family money. Fusion’s accurate eyesight and strategic mindset lets him dominate every pool tournament that he enters. Myth and Fusion both bond over their intellectual interests and their love for snacks. In fact, Myth and Fusion usually meet up to exchange snacks with each other. Fusion is currently trying to teach Myth how to play billiards, viewing Myth’s intelligence as a great advantage on the pool table. Similar to Scar, Fusion carries himself with a parental air and regularly looks after the other Ultimates like they are his children.

Outfit: A blue and yellow striped vest over a red tie with a star on it and a white dress shirt, glasses, pants and shoes from original design, always carries and stims with his lucky pool cue.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Knitter

As much as Fusion II tries to pull off the rebellious teenager act, it’s a bit hard to do that, considering she knits in her spare time and donates her knitted crafts to charity. While at first, Myth viewed Fusion II as simply a thug from the wrong side of the rails and Fusion II viewed Myth as a reminder of her nerdy self from middle school, her opinion of the knitter quickly changed once she learned about her charitable and kindhearted side, particularly to children and elders. Now the two’s relationship are on the more positive side, with a private intellectual meme chat being the ultimate deciding factor in their friendship.

Outfit: Same outfit from the original, but with a red scarf around her neck and blue gloves and brown boots with white fluff on the inside.

Just Anon, Ultimate DJ

DJanon is well-known in underground nightclubs for his energetic music mixes and his expertise in hyping up his audience. Many rumors claim that he is nocturnal, and it’s not hard to see why, for he seems to lose all of his energy during the day and become grouchy and lazy. Myth never really was experienced when it comes to music, and Janon’s music just seems to hurt her ears. Janon doesn’t seem to like anyone who reminds him of school, so the hatred between Myth and Janon is mutual. However, Janon has a secret soft spot for the preteen fanbase of his that he desperately wants to keep hidden.

Outfit: A pink Daft Punk style helmet with bunny ears on top, a pink jumpsuit with blue circuit patterns, light blue boots.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Jazz Musician

As both an expert on both the saxophone and the piano and a person with a very flashy stage presence, it is no wonder that Sparkle is the leading lady of her all-female jazz troupe, ”THE SPECTACULAR SONGSTRESSES”. As opposed to Janon’s music, Myth finds Sparkle’s music to be much more pleasant to listen to. Myth may not understand much of Sparkle’s over-dramatic demeanor and vocabulary, but she stays silent and tries her best to keep up with the energetic attitude of the jazz musician. Sparkle appreciates the high class and intelligent musical tastes of Myth, and usually lets Myth preview her new jazz songs.

Outfit: A black fedora, a black overcoat slung around her shoulders, a white dress shirt with golden music note buttons, a red tie, black pants, black slip-on shoes.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Soccer Player, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Actor

Both of these twins have achieved stardom and became role models for NB youth everywhere. They also have a penchant for creeping people out with the cursed images they put into people‘s heads, but the similarities stop there. While Egg is an inspiration for non-binary people thanks to their athletic prowess securing wins for their varsity team, Wet Sock inspires and astonishes non-binary people, thanks to their famous face and stellar performance skills on both theater sets and movie sets. As much as Myth tries to be polite when interacting with the Freak Twins, their verbal intrusive thoughts just disgust her.

Egg’s Outfit: A green headband, a green and dark blue track jacket, a white tanktop, shorts that match their jacket, white socks, blue and green cleats.

Wet Sock’s Outfit: A black and white tuxedo with a light green scarf.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Film Director

Despite their age and relative newness to the job, Curious has garnered fame for their high-budget and gripping emotional tales on the big screen. But the one film that truly sealed their fame as a director was ”The Ice Cage”, a film detailing a person slowly moving out of the glass shell that they have been put into by society. Because of their similar polite and passive temperaments, Myth and Curious get along very well. While Myth may not have much experience with the arts, she uses her conversations with Curious as learning opportunities to gain more knowledge on the creative process.

Outfit: Same outfit from the original, but with a black jacket and beret.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Kickboxer

Dominating the underground kickboxing tournaments that are frequently held in his less-than-stellar hometown, Nerd‘s sheer physical power is nothing to laugh at and many people yearn to learn Nerd’s ways. Unfortunately, Nerd isn’t exactly the best when it comes to being kind to others, and responds to foreign emotions with his fists and feet. Nerd can’t help but want to whip the chubby mathematician into shape, upon seeing her get stressed and stress eat as a result. But Nerd’s aggressive training just scares the kindly mathematician away, much to the kickboxing champion’s chagrin and anger.

Outfit: Black shorts held up by a white drawstring, bandaged-up arms and feet, a black bathrobe over all that.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Party Planner

As a strong believer in Murphy’s Law, Eldritch shoots and double-shoots to make sure that every party that he plans goes off without a hitch, and nothing bad will ever happen. This mindset may make him a great planner, but he isn’t so crash-hot, when he actually attends the parties he planned. Fortunately, Myth is polite and easily-pleased, which is a pass in Eldritch’s party-planning and people-pleasing book. Unfortunately, Eldritch found out that Myth gets easily stressed, so he has to remove any stress—arousing things from any party that she happens to be attending. At least Eldritch now has some common ground with Myth.

Outfit: A green and yellow party hat on his head, hair stained with streamers and sprinkles, a pink camo jacket with his pockets stuffed with party favors over a light pink shirt with blue and yellow balloons on the front, shorts and slippers from original design.

Dream Anon, Ultimate BMX Biker

Commonly known by the stunt community as the “Pink Pinball”, Dream became famous on the internet for her filmed BMX stunts, and her bright pink ensemble she wears while performing said stunts. She regularly frequents skate parks and bike-racing tracks to practice her skills, and even established a BMX club at her school. Dream and Myth are complete opposites in just about everything, so Dream regularly gives proper workout sessions (unlike Nerd) and encourages Myth to loosen up and live on the edge, and Myth regularly looks after Dream to make sure her stunts aren‘t too dangerous.

Outfit: A bright pink and grey jump suit with a matching motorcycle helmet.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Glassblower

As the latest child in a long and prestigious line of glassblowers, it was expected by her parents that Iris would carry the family business. Despite her parent’s doubts due of her supreme clumsiness, Iris is amazing at both creating and delivering drinking glasses and adorable glass trinkets, which happen to be her two major specialities. Despite her optimistic temperament, Iris has anxiety that she tries desperately to hide underneath her happy and slightly ditzy facade. Myth can especially relate to keeping up a facade to mask anxiety, and Iris regularly imparts wisdom onto Myth to help the constantly-stressed mathematician.

Outfit: Hair pulled back into a braided ponytail, a pair of brown goggles over her eyes, a grey jumpsuit, black gloves and boots.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Sailor

Well-known amongst her peers for piloting the P.S Prose, Purple sailed across the vast and open ocean, and dodged dangerous storms, waves and wildlife along the way. Unfortunately, spending all your time surrounded by nothing but water doesn’t exactly do wonders for your social skills, for Purple is shockingly timid and regularly hides behind her good friend Fusion. Despite Purple’s archaic maritime terms confusing everybody but Myth and Fusion, Purple is still very sweet and kind. Myth offering Purple some of her anti-stress candy was the start of a simply beautiful friendship.

Outfit: A white captain‘s hat, hair tied into small pigtails, a purple overcoat over a blue and white striped shirt and a black ascot, black pants, tall white socks, black shoes.

This series centers around the secretly-stressed mathematician learning about new anti-stress techniques from her colorful peers, in order to combat her constant stress-snacking.

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APPEARANCE

Myth wears her brown hair down with hairpins on each side that resemble a plus and minus sign. Myth wears the same uniform from her old private school that she (much to her embarrassment) still is able to fit into. It consists of a black jacket that has math-themed pins over a white dress shirt and a red and blue tie, a white and light blue checkered skirt that resembles a line graph. On her legs and feet are black leggings and red Mary Janes. Because of her chronic snacking, Math!Myth has a plumper figure compared to Romantic!Myth.

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PERSONALITY

Because of her upbringing, Math!Myth has a taste for anything scholastic or pertaining to academics, and always appreciates a good intellectual conversation. Math!Myth carries herself with a polite and courteous demeanor, treating all men like kings and all women like queens. Unfortunately, underneath that calm and well-put-together facade, is a very stressed young lady. Because Math!Myth doesn’t like stress, she tries her best to stave off the stress. However, stress-eating is her go-to-method for dealing with stress, and the other Anons are trying their best to teach Myth a proper way of dealing with constant stress and anxiety. On the plus side, Myth is a constant source of snacks for the other Anons. If anyone needs a snack, they just head over to Myth and ask for one, for she will have it stashed somewhere on her person. ————————————————-——

I’ve done Buff!Myth before, but I haven’t done Chubby!Myth yet, so here you go. Let me know what you think of this Myth and the other Anons in this AU!

-Fusion Anon

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daysiias · 4 years ago

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{ zendaya ♔ 24 ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t daysia collins running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from tangerine towers and have lived here for six years. if you’re wondering what they’ve been up to, i hear they’re a crisis counselor for a living. they have been known to be quixotic yet nurturing. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching. { kim ♔ 25 ♔ est ♔ she/her }

yall know me. i’m kim, i play serenity, and i’m one of the admins!! this is my damaged but optimistic baby, daysia. ITS PRONOUNCED LIKE DEJA VU :’) i just created her in november but she so quickly became my favorite muse to write. so buckle up! and pls plot w me. i am fragile and if i don’t get any plots i will hide in a dumpster, where i belong.

TW FOR DEATH, DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, CAR ACCIDENT

here is her pinterest and a spotify playlist if you wanna check those out ~

daysia jade, day, dj, deej – anything goes. she’s 23 and will turn her head to just about anything. she’s a spring baby born march, 1996.

her childhood was pretty good. she and her brother grew up a year apart, and her parents divorced early. early enough that daysia can barely remember a time where the family was hole, and likes it that way.

however, her father did not take the divorce well and turned to drugs – meth to be specific. he only saw the kids on weekends and even then, daysia and marcus absolutely knew what was happening. perhaps they didn’t know his choice of poison, but they knew that it was just that: poison.

he was never abusive and always took care of the kids, even if he was tweaking out of his mind. there were a few instances that were touch and go, like when he forgot to take dinner out of the oven and it caught fire, or when he forgot to change the sheets – little things that added up.

when daysia was 16 and marcus was 15, they were involved in a car accident. her dad was high behind the wheel, lost control of the car, and they hit the guard rail. they went over an embankment and down a short hill before the vehicle came to a complete stop, flipped over. she watched the life drain from her brother’s face, and never got into a car again, up until recently when she started letting @malcolmvramsey drive her places she needed to go. she always tries to give him gas money, but he rarely takes it.

a good deal of resentment built up for her father, but she remained stoic, even when he went to prison for drug charges and the dui he’d racked up that ultimately killed her brother. she didn’t let anyone know that she was hurting, because she numbed it all. she threw herself into her school work and her artwork, painting constantly. melting colors together somehow helped her cope. she could get her emotions out on paper. in fact, that still rings true today. in her bedroom of the apartment she lives in, she has covered one of the walls in canvas and paints over and over.

in an effort to start life over, daysia left detroit when she graduated high school. she transferred to peach hollow where she went to winchester university, not wanting a lot of attention. this is where she really came to life.

daysia was able to push michigan to the back of her mind entirely, because peach hollow had so much to offer. the people were better. the music was better. the parties were better. the education was better. there wasn’t a single thing she missed from home aside from her mother, who she kept in regular contact with and still does. they’re always texting and facetime before bed every night.

she came alive. college changed her. she was studying a subject that interested her and meeting people who didn’t have to know about her past. she did, and does everything to keep michigan her dirty little secret. she liked the party scene, but only drank or smoked weed. she refuses to touch anything that might turn her into her father. she was even hired on as a crisis counselor for a local hotline, contractual to her graduation.

in the past month, daysia has plummeted, however. nobody would ever be able to tell. she is the queen of poker face, an absolute delight to be around. she can be a little aloof, and is constantly stoned, but it’s how she gets through the day. she is an absolute goof, loves to crack jokes and make people laugh. she loves to laugh herself. these are all traits that show and cover the inner turmoil constantly trying to bubble to the surface.

about three weeks ago, daysia received word that her father passed away in jail. he overdosed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. so she didn’t. she did, however, stop doing school work and started drinking more. she’s mere days from flunking out of school and losing her job. but nobody knows, because she acts like she doesn’t know either.

all in all, she’s doing a lot of self sabotage but covering it up with every ounce of grace she has.

as for her personality and relationships, daysia excels. she is nurturing, so when a friend, or even a stranger is hurting, she tends to go to their side and comfort them. as long as she can make them laugh, then everything will be okay. she makes friends pretty easily, and keeps them for the most part. she is fiercely loyal and will absolutely scrap to defend her loved ones.

she loves love. there is no gender she isn’t curious about and absolutely loves romance, though she also tries to hide that. her walls are ten feet tall. she’s in to hook ups, flings, and polyamory. she’s very open in that sense!!

FUN FACTS

she has an english bull dog named frank!! he is her pride and joy. she dresses him up in outfits, has regular photo shoots with him and loves going to the dog park. he isn’t legally an emotional support animal, but that’s definitely what he is to her. if he doesn’t like you, she won’t either tbh

she has this lil purple pen looking thing that is always on her. it’s her weed vape and she will hit it anywhere. her dumb head is always in the mfing clouds

she has a spotify family plan that is currently only her, mac, and dom and she will absolutely invite anyone she meets bc spotify premium is something everyone should enjoy

wears a lot of graphic tees and jeans, kinda a tom boy. doesn’t love dressing up but will occasionally. also doesn’t rly like make up but DOES know how to beat her face

1000% unable to be alone for like any period of time?? like if she gets off work and no one is in her apartment she just leaves. she goes next door to mac, goes to the peach pit, anywhere she can socialize. being left to her own thoughts will always turn out poorly.

really loves poetry. cannot write it to save her life, but loves going to slam readings or checking out poetry books from the library. her adhd brain can’t handle novels – poetry is just the right length to keep her attention and dig into her soul.

oh yeah, she’s got some pretty intense untreated adhd lol

OK SO WANTED CONNECTIONS IF UR STILL HERE LMAO

ex-roommate: something happened between daysia and this person, whether it was a relationship gone wrong, a friendship with tension, or just the other person being a damn slob – and daysia removed them from the house and moved someone new in. they are probably on shitty terms.

roomate(s): ^^ the forementioned current roommate or two!! i would like her to be veeeery close to whoever lives here. they have to be ok with her dog, her weed, and how mf needy she is.

current flings: a few people are probably on her list of suitors right now. people she spends time with romantically, but hasn’t committed to. she absolutely cannot be alone, at any point… ever! so, she has someone with her at all times. m/f/nb, all good.

party friends: this one is pretty self explanatory!! these are friends that daysia may or may not talk to outside of a party, but will always cling to at one.

close friends: she lets very few people all the way in, but those that make it are generally taken care of by day. she makes sure that they are as comfortable with life as possible and spends a lot of time with them

exes: as daysia is a ticking time bomb, there have been many people she’s blown off. whether they once hooked up, were together, or what have you, daysia has a lot of exes. she never means to hurt anyone. it just sort of happens and she has accepted it.

#peaches:intro #i'm back lmao

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daycollins · 4 years ago

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{ zendaya ☁ twenty six ☁ she/her } among the whispers around peach hollow, have you heard of daysia collins? no? well, let’s catch you up to speed. rumor has it, she’s been seen strolling around blueberry boulevard & have lived in peach hollow for six years. it’s good to have her around because i hear she’s a crisis counselor for a living. recent events must have her trembling because it hasn’t be long since everyone found out she flunked school. let’s hope they learned their lesson that the truth always catches up to you.

yall know me. i’m kim, i play winnie, and i’m one of the admins!! this is my damaged but optimistic baby, daysia. ITS PRONOUNCED LIKE DEJA VU :’) i just created her in november but she so quickly became my favorite muse to write. so buckle up! and pls plot w me. i am fragile and if i don’t get any plots i will hide in a dumpster, where i belong.

TW FOR DEATH, DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, CAR ACCIDENT

here is her pinterest and a spotify playlist if you wanna check those out ~

daysia jade, day, dj, deej – anything goes. she’s 23 and will turn her head to just about anything. she’s a spring baby born march, 1996.

daysia received word that her father passed away in jail. he overdosed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. so she didn’t. she did, however, stop doing school work and started drinking more. she flunked out of school and lost her job.

at the same time, she got into her first serious relationship. day fell hard and fast for her best friend, mac. their relationship started out much like a fairy tale. she wanted to keep it like that forever, but her addiction and ptsd took over. she tried her very hardest to hold onto mac, but he moved back to nyc with their best friend, dom, in tow. she still misses them to this day and finds it hard to keep friends like she kept them close. the littlest things will remind her of mac and she’ll start to spiral. two years later and she’s still hung up, but she’ll deny it to the very end.

it’s safe to say that when this happened, daysia crumbled. she realized just how many people she’d lost and how many she had -- and she didn’t have anyone at that point, or so she thought. she continued to isolate and stopped answering her phone, and within the week, her mother was there to drag her home to detroit for detox.

she spent the next few weeks laying in the bathroom, going through withdrawal from alcohol and the various benzos she’d started eating like candy. things were bad. her mother never left her side, and after many na and aa meetings, after snatching pill bottles and miniatures out of her room for months, daysia cleaned up her act. she put on a healthy amount of weight, started working out, went to aa or na two or three times a day until she was comfortable enough to skirt by a day or two without one. she finished up her degree that summer and started waiting tables. she saved up every cent, finally having enough money and credit built up to buy a house where she really wanted to be: peach hollow.

after talking to her old boss, they agreed to take her back on as a crisis counselor when she moved back

so the newly clean and sober (aside from weed lol) daysia is living in a house on blueberry boulevard with @dawsonsawyer

FUN FACTS

she has this lil purple pen looking thing that is always on her. it’s her weed vape and she will hit it anywhere. her dumb head is always in the mfing clouds

she has a spotify family plan that is currently only her, mac, and dom and she will absolutely invite anyone she meets bc spotify premium is something everyone should enjoy

wears a lot of graphic tees and jeans, kinda a tom boy. doesn’t love dressing up but will occasionally. also doesn’t rly like make up but DOES know how to beat her face

oh yeah, she’s got some pretty intense untreated adhd lol

OK SO WANTED CONNECTIONS IF UR STILL HERE LMAO

party friends: this one is pretty self explanatory!! these are friends that daysia may or may not talk to outside of a party, but will always cling to at one.

#peachesintro

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midnightminx90writings · 6 years ago

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You Are So Worthy of Evertything

Fandom: Critical Role Pairing: Fjord/Jester Characters: Fjord, Jester, Nugget Written for Fjorester Week 2019 Tags: AU, pre-relationship, Black Jewels fusion, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, healing, minor injuries Description: Day 1: Jester finds a wounded Fjord on the shore and heals him

ON AO3

IT’S VERY IMPORTANT YOU READ THIS FIRST SO YOU WILL UNDERSTAND WHAT IS GOING ON!

This AU is a fusion with the book series The Black Jewels by Anne Bishop. Thus, there are things here vastly different from the world of Exandria. I've made a list of thing mentioned in the fic that you need to know so you won't get lost, so bear with me on that.

-----

Blood - what the ones with power (Jewel or not) are. This comes from being gifted with the blood of the ancient dragons ages and ages ago. At first, only the women were Blood, but as they had children, and their children had children, the blood mixed and so men too became Blood.

Jewels - made from the scales of the Dragons. The darker they are, the deeper your well of power. One for Birthright, then a darker when making the Offering to the Darkness (which is like a coming of age ritual). Opal can be both Light and Dark, and so is the dividing line between the Light and Dark Jewels. When making the Offering, the Jewel one obtains can be no more than three ranks higher than one's Birthright. Ie, if that is Rose, then the person can descent to Summer-sky, Purple Dusk or Opal, but not darker than that.

White Yellow Tiger Eye Rose Summer-sky Purple Dusk Opal* Green Sapphire Red Gray Ebon-gray Black

Castes - the foundation of who (and what) you are. Sadly the ‘verse is very heteronormative and binary (males/females instead of men/women/nb for instance), but I’m trying to stay clear of that here. Viewed as a hierarchy, it’s not strictly so, especially for women as they can be more than one Caste (ie. Healer and Queen) (the part about Castes is taken directly from the wiki)

Landen is the term for the non-Blood of every race. "Blood female" and "Blood male" are terms used both to refer to Blood of any caste, as well as any member of the Blood who does not wear a Jewel.

Female-specific castes::: witch: both a general term for any Jeweled female and also specifically refers to Jeweled females who don't belong to any of the other castes. Healer: a witch who specializes in healing physical wounds and illnesses. Equal in rank to a Priestess and a Prince. Priestess: a witch who cares for altars, Sanctuaries and Dark Altars, witnesses handfasts and marriages, and performs offerings. Equal in rank to a Healer and a Prince. Black Widow: a witch who heals the mind, weaves the tangled webs of dreams and visions, and is trained in illusions and poisons. Equal in status to a Warlord Prince. Queen: a witch who rules the Blood. Queens are considered to be the land's heart and moral center, as such she is the focal point of Blood society.

Male-specific castes::: Warlord: a Jeweled male equal in status to a witch. Prince: a Jeweled male equal in status to a Priestess or Healer. Warlord Prince: a dangerous, extremely aggressive Jeweled male; slightly lower in status than a Queen.

Craft - the “magic”/power of this world. Can be used to do virtually everything. For instance manipulate (lift/move/carry) objects, attack others, protect yourself (ie. creating a Shield that only darker Jewels can penetrate/destroy), pass through walls/objects, talk to others using a psychic link (it’s like talking telepathically), create fire, become invisible or cast out your voice (think of Thaumathurgy). The Blood also have a “cupboard” where they can store things and no one can find it. Think of it as a personal Bag of Holding. The darker the Jewel, the more one can carry without being encumbered.

Kindred are animals that are Blood. Just like humans they have Jewels, Craft and Caste. They speak with one another and “their humans” using psychic links. Most don’t know they exists and think them myths, but a select few have been let in on their existence. In this fusion ‘verse, Nugget is a Kindred Sceltie (shetland sheepdog), and Frumpkin is a Kindred tiger.

Sentences in asterisks (**) indicates what Nugget says and telepathic conversations

A Red Moon House is a whore house, but a fancy one, where there are decorated rooms, comfortable beds, the whores receives training and are protected. They have days off and can refuse clients. There are also public dining rooms, and the clients (and whores) can order food to eat in their room,

Jester doesn’t know why she is walking towards the beach this day, but there is something that wants her attention. Something that needs her. Or someone.

She scans the horizon in the low light of the morning, the sun still below the horizon, beyond the mountains she knows are in the distance. She’s seen maps, knows that something lies beyond these waters, but she has never left this place, not since she moved away from her mama. Nugget barks, and in her mind she hears *There!* A shape on the shore. A person? Jester picks up her skirt and run, her basket with herbs and plants dropping from her grasp, left behind for something far more important. She stumbles, almost falls as her feet catches on exposed roots, then again as the loose sand under her feet makes it harder for her to run. They’re hurt, that much is clear. She falls to her knees, turning them over to see a face covered in shallow cuts, pale sand sticking to the congealed blood. She sees a man, short black hair with a streak of white. He has both light and dark skin, which somehow blends together where it transitions. His eyes are closed so she pulls back one eyelid. Her own sapphire eyes land on a gold one. She checks for a pulse. Nothing. Then, a faint thrumming. His life is fading, but she’ll help him. It’s what she’s good at, it’s what her caste is. Well. One of them. Jester rips open his already torn shirt, sees the Green pendant on a gold chain around his neck. He’s strong, hopefully. It will make it easier for him to survive. Jester’s own Grey glows as she lifts him. He hovers in the air in front of her as she hurries back to her home, collecting her discarded basket and its contents on the way. She will need this to save him. The sky turns brighter, from dark and warm colours to the cooler, pale blue of the spring sky as she walks, her faithful companion at her side. --- Once inside her Healer’s room, Jester quickly gets to work. New sheets on the bed, padded with old towels given to her from the local villagers. They’re easy to change, and she always throws them out after. The blood is easy to get out, but the psychic residue they leave behind do not belong in a room meant for healing, and so she burns them and buries the ash after. Wouldn’t do to have them spread. Right then. Time to remove his clothes. Jester doesn’t like doing this when her patient is unconscious, preferring them to remove their own clothes if needed. She steels herself, trying to remain professional. It’s just another job, do what it requires. As the fabrics fall away, more scars appear. She sees splinters of wood and glass embedded in his skin. The cuts and scrapes wouldn’t be so bad if not for the sand sticking to them. Jester hopes he was unconscious while in the water, as she knows how much the salt of the sea stings when in contact with open wounds like these. Jester then moves her patient over to the bed, slowly lowering him but keeping him floating a few inches above. Calling in her tools, Jester gets to work. She puts on her apron, then creates a skin tight shield around her. On with the gloves. First, cleanse the wounds. Then check for bruises and anything broken. Apply salve. Bandage the wounds that need to be covered but leave the rest open so they’ll heal faster. The procedure is as familiar as breathing. Years of practice ensures her hands are steady as they move over his body, mentally cataloguing every internal and external damage. Some bruised ribs, but nothing broken and no internal bleeding. That’s good. Means he was lucky. Jester wonders what happened to him, and if he’ll tell her when he wakes up. Maybe she should call in one of her friends, so she’s not alone when he wakes up. Even her Birthright Sapphire is stronger than his Green, not to mention her Grey, and Jester knows she’s strong and skilled enough to be able to protect herself. It does not mean he won’t be able to get the jump on her, however. For some reason though, this man doesn’t strike her as someone that would harm her. Better safe than sorry. She could always ask Yasha to come over, help her plan her garden extension to include some flowers as well as the plants she has for healing. She knows Nugget is here with her, but he is young, untrained, and Jester doesn’t want him to come to harm. --- Jester works for hours, singing as she weaves her healing spells, burning through her Grey, diminishing her to her Sapphire. She is spent, knows she’s not eaten since the night before. Her mother’s voice rings in her head, telling her that Healers should never be alone, for they are considered a danger towards themselves. The urge to help and heal others is so strong that Healers have died, or at the very least stripped themselves of all their power. Too easy to think ‘just a little bit more’ until a little becomes a little too much, and the Healer can barely be called Blood. It’s been a long time since Jester’s had to put this much work into a healing. She lives in a quiet place, where various accidents related to farming or bar brawls are the worst to happen. There are the occasional difficult births as well, but she is never alone in those instances. She’s not needed to use this much of her power to do her work. This time though, something’s been pushing at her. She’d call it a voice in the back of her head, telling her how important this life is, how his survival will affect so many around him. *Jester. Food.* Nugget tells her, and she looks down to see he’s brought her a plump rabbit. She smiles down at him. He is still young, still wears his Birthright Summer-sky. Nugget’s not been around humans long enough yet to understand that they (well, most) will not eat the small creatures the Kindred catches. “I’m almost done, Nugget,” she tells him. “I’ll eat then. You eat that one, okay?” Nugget whines, but takes his prey outside. At least it wasn’t still alive this time. Discard of the clothes and the towels. Change the sheets. Put a pillow under his head. Just a short rest, Jester thinks, sitting down in a chair off to the side. Then food and drink before bed. ****** Fjord startles awake. He’s in an unfamiliar room, and doesn’t know how he got there. Through an open window he can see the colours of the sunrise, hear the birds chirps greet the new day. A gentle breeze carries with it the scent of wildflowers. Looking around doesn’t help, doesn’t explain anything. Then he sees a form slumped in a chair in a corner, next to a table with a basket, plants spread out on the side. Fjord sends out a delicate, psychic probe, hoping not to alert whoever it is. Healer. Priestess. Sapphire. What happened? Where is he? Where is here? Did she save him? The questions swim around in Fjord’s mind, but no answers comes to him. He feels no lock on the door, nor is he restrained, so he is not a prisoner. That’s good. He sits up, then tries to stand. The sheet that covered him falls away as his legs give out from under him. It’s enough to startle the Healer, who jumps up from her seat and Fjord feels the Sapphire shield go up around her, then spots the knife in her hand. She’s smart and quick, he’ll give her that. If it bodes well for him is another matter. “Who’re you? Where am I?” he barks the questions out, but they don’t hold much weight. Fjord’s eyes meets sapphire ones, matching the Sapphire Jewel that hangs on a silver chain around her neck. She has short black hair and is wearing a simple dress covered in an apron with some blood specks on it. His? “I’m Jester, I’m a Healer,” she says, holding out her hands to him in what Fjord assumes is supposed to be a calming manner. “You’re in Raska Lake. Not far from Nicodranas.” Her voice is gentle, soothing. “How did I get here?” “I found you on the beach this…” Jester pauses, looks out the window, “yesterday morning.” The sunlight creeps in through the windows, and Fjord can see that she looks exhausted. Her cheeks are gaunt, and she’s swaying on her feet. Her dark skin looks paler than it should. If she found him a full day ago… “You haven’t eaten, have you?” Fjord doesn’t try to keep the bossiness typical to men out of his voice. “Well, I was going to!” She pouts, and Fjord feels smug. “I just sat down to rest for a bit that’s all. And fell asleep.” She mutters the last part but he still hears it. “Was this last night? And when did you last eat?” She looks angry now. Good. It makes it easier to know how to deal with her. Fjord may not have a lot of experience with women, especially Healers, but it’s something ingrained in all members of the Blood, the men especially, to know how to deal with women. Any woman will get prissy when being bullied into doing something, even when she knows it’s for her own good, simply because a man tells her to do it. Healers, Fjord’s been told, are the worst when it comes to this. He doesn’t know her, and yet Fjord feels that instinct, that urge to protect her. Even it it’s from herself. Maybe… (The words of his mentor, his father figure appear in his head. “Women won’t need or want you to tell them to do something. But sometimes, a man has to, because it will show her that he cares. It’s a rare thing to have that, and you will make her riled up. Remember Fjord, that it’s a give and take thing, as old as time itself. She’ll not let you know, but she knows what it means. For you to yell at her, it means you care. And for her to get mad and then accept the offered food or help shows you that she understand this. I hope you will have that one day.” “Have you had someone like that?” Fjord had asked back. “I did, once. But that was a long time ago.”) “Do you have anything to eat? I’m starving.” “Oh. Yes! I do!” The Healer, Jester, looks uncertain for a moment. “Your clothes were too damaged; I had to throw them out. I might have something for you to wear though!” Only at her words does Fjord realize he’s sitting naked on her floor. He grabs the sheet and pulls it up to cover himself, even as the voice at the back of his head tells him it’s no point, as she’s already seen him naked. “I’d be very grateful for that.” Fjord tries to stand up, but his body is too weak to be able to carry his weight. Jester is there in an instance, supporting him and guiding him towards the chair she had previously occupied. “I’ll be right back, don’t move!” She hurries out of the room, and Fjord spends his time waiting inspecting the room and then his own body. So many cuts and scrapes. What happened? There are few bandages, and breathing doesn’t hurt, so it all seems to be superficial. When Jester returns, there’s a dog next to her. Thank the Darkness it’s not a cat, Fjord thinks, holding his hand out to beckon it to come closer. The dog’s tail wags as he approaches Fjord. *I’m Nugget! Jes says you’re sick, and that you will stay here here until better. I will help her take care of you! What’s your name?* “What.” Fjord blinks, thinking he must’ve hurt his head. Surely… Jester laughs at his confusion, and Fjord blushes. *She is my human and I take care of her so now I will take care of you too! Are you hungry? I can get you a rabbit!* “Nugget is Kindred,” Jester says as a way of explanation, crouching down to pet him. “I didn’t think they were real,” Fjord says, wonder in his voice. “Actually, they are very real actually! Unicorns too!” Fjord scratches Nugget, and his fingers finds a chain. He pulls it out from under the long fur and... Is that a Summer-sky Jewel? His scent says Warlord, young, but still… This dog’s Jewel is just barely lighter than his own, and the day Nugget makes the offering… Fjord shudders at the implications. Nugget can end up wearing the Green, just like Fjord himself. “Here,” Jester says then, and hold out clothes to him. “I think they should fit but if not I can probably head into town for something else probably.” “I’m sure it’s fine.Thank you, Jester.” The dog cocks his head to the side and looks at Fjord expectantly. What…? Oh. Right. “My name’s Fjord,” he says. “Thank you for saving me.” “Oh, it was no problem really! I’m the Healer so of course I heal people!” “How did you find me?” Jester falls silent for a moment, then realizes she’s still holding his clothes. Fjord wonders if they belong to her lover or husband. He doesn’t see a ring, but it doesn’t mean anything. Women have the right to take on as many lovers as they want, and aren’t required, like men are, to practice fidelity. He mentally shakes his head. It’s no right of his to think about things like this. Jester is a Healer - just doing her job. “Here,” she says, handing them over, but doesn’t turn away. “D’you mind? Fjords asks her, and it takes a moment for her to understand. “It’s okay, I have seen a lot of dicks!” “Right, uhm… I guess it’s normal for Healers?” Jester laughs again. Fjord likes the sound. “No, my mama is a famous courtesan and I grew up with her in a Red Moon house! She’s the Ruby of the Sea and she is like, super good and everyone wants to have sex with her. She’s like, really well known. Have you heard of her?” “Oh yeah, I’ve heard the name! Don’t know much about her though.” Nugget lets out a small bark. Based on the look on Jester’s face, he must’ve said something to make her blush. ****** “I’ll make us some food, okay? We can eat outside if you want to.” “Sure,” Fjord replies. “Sounds great.” *I’ll stay with him. You get the meat.* *I don’t have enough food though. Why don’t you run down to Caduceus and Yasha and ask them for some pies? I’m sure they have something for you too!* While Nuggets tail stopped wagging at the request of being sent on a fetch mission, the promise of some bones and meat as reward is more than enough. As he runs off, Jester remembers the rabbit from last night and hopes he ate it. Previous experience tells her he might have put it somewhere to save for later. The time she pulled back her covers to find a partially eaten bunny… It was even worse than it should have been, because she knows that it was one that her friend Veth had in her garden. Which means that her Sceltie is a burglar. At least last night’s prey was wild, she’d noticed that much. While waiting, she changes into her favourite dress. It’s the colour of sunflowers and the length is perfect for the warm weather. Almost as an afterthought she puts on a belt that goes around her waist, accentuating her curves. Nugget appears some minutes later, just as she’s done packing her picnic basket with napkins, cutlery, plates and glasses. *I told Yasha you have a sick person here. Cad will come by later with more food.* “Thank you,” she says and kisses him on the head. “Wanna come with us?” *Walkies?* Nugget’s tail wags so much that he almost tips over as he dances where he stands. Jester laughs as she puts the pies in the basket, then a bottle of lemonade. “Yes, we’ll go for walkies. But we have to be careful okay? Because Fjord is hurt and can’t walk as fast as us. Not yet.” *That’s okay! I will help him!* “I’m sure you will.” The clothes fit Fjord, and rather well actually. Jester doesn’t remember why she has the clothes, nor who they belonged to, but she’s glad she had them lying around. “There’s no shame in asking for help,” she tells him, one of her arms around his waist in support. It’s a short walk to the rise overlooking the ocean and village. A path winds along on top of it, but it’s deserted at this point in the morning. People will be starting their day about now, if they haven’t already. No time for leisurely walks. They sit down together on a bench with a view of the ocean. For a while they sit in silence. Then Jester asks him if he remembers what happened, and Fjord seems to shrink in on himself. “It’s a long story. In a way, it goes back to when I was a kid.” “Take as long as you need Fjord, I’m not gonna go anywhere,” she reassures him, placing her hand on his. She hears him take a deep breath, then let it out. Fjord starts talking. He tells her about his life before. About the orphanage, the conditions there and the bullying. How everyone laughed at his skin and he had tried to save up what he could from small jobs and begging on the street so he might pay a Black Widow to use her Craft, to build a Web to help him. So that he might cover up and look… normal. It hadn’t worked of course. The price too high, be it in marks or in service. Self-harm had been the only logical solution. Trying to scrub away the skin, until it was red and bloated, marred and covered in scars. “Vandren saved me. He found me out on the streets, skin bleeding and infected. Brought me to a Healer, first one I’ve ever met. He paid her to heal me. I think it cost him dearly, but I never dared ask how much.” Jester smiles at him. There is no pity to be found. “Well, you know, he probably thought your life was worth more than enough for it to be worth it, probably. I would.” She says the last part softly enough that she’s not sure Fjord hears it or not. She’s not sure if he wants him to, and it scares her a bit. “Sabien wouldn’t agree with you. We were in the orphanage together and Vandren took us both in, gave us jobs on his ship. It was a merchant ship, so we spent most our time out at sea. He taught us a lot, but Sabien never paid much attention. I’d hoped he’d grow out of his mean streak, but he never did. He went from bullying to egging me on, wanting me to fall out of Vandren’s favour. He told me as much. Said I’d always been Vandren’s favourite and that it wasn’t fair cause I was just an bastard. Claimed my parents must’ve thought me a monster and couldn’t bear looking at me.” She squeezes his hand. “Fjord…” “It’s okay, Jester. I’m used to it.” “Doesn’t mean you should be!” His smile is sad. “Doesn’t matter anymore. He blew up our ship. It’s how I got here. I dunno why he did it, but I caught him in the middle of the night, and I was too late to stop him. I hope the prick’s dead.” Jester doesn’t say anything, just hugs him close. “Well, I’m glad I found you!” She takes out the pies, carves them into slices and places some on each of their plates, hovering them in the air in front of them. Following that, she pours lemonade into glasses and water into a bowl for Nugget. They eat in companionable silence, and Jester feels her body and Jewels absorb the energy. A cooling breeze wafts over them, as they sit there, listening to the birds and the waves lapping gently on the shore. Nugget rests as their feet, chewing on a bone. “Fjord, I know you’re hurting, but…” “Jester…” “No, let me finish. It’s important, okay?” She takes a deep breath. It’s important to let him know. Jester may not have scars on her soul, but she knows many people who have. Too many, her friends included. She recognizes the same in Fjord, especially after what he’s just told her. Jester grabs his hand again, tightens her grip. “I can heal the scars on your body, but I can’t heal the scars of the soul. You have to learn to live with them. You have to choose to live beyond them.” Fjord looks away once the words are out. For a moment, Jester doesn’t know what to do, but then... “Thank you,” Fjord says, then turns back to her again as he sobs. His whole body shakes and she takes him in her arms, whispering words of comfort and then singing a song her mama used to sing. As she does, she weaves a soothing spell around him. It’s important to cry, to let it all out, but right now it’s all too fresh in Fjord’s mind. He almost lost his life, lost the man he saw as his father figure and the only life he’s ever known. Jester’s heart bleeds for him. She’ll help him through it. Doesn’t matter how long it takes. It’s clear he need it, and Jester is nothing if not determined. It’s not to prove herself as a Healer, but because he deserves it. She’ll help him build a new life for himself. “It’s okay Fjord, it’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe here. I’ll help you through it okay?” *Help? I can help!* “You’re not alone, see? Nugget and I will help you, no matter what it takes. You can stay as long as you need. We’re not going anywhere.”

#fjord #jester #fjoresterweek #fjorester week #cr2 #critical role #critical role 2 #au #fjorester au

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All of the allegorical chapter intros from Warped Passages

Entryway Passages: Demystifying Dimensions

“Ike, I’m not so sure about this story I’m writing. I’m considering adding more dimensions. What do you think of that idea?

“Athena, your big brother knows very little about fixing stories. But odds are it won’t hurt to add new dimensions. Do you plan to add new characters, or flesh out your current ones some more?”

“Neither; that’s not what I meant. I plan to introduce new dimensions--as in new dimensions of space.”

“You’re kidding, right? You’re going to write about alternative realities--like places where people have alternative spiritual experiences or where they go when they die, or when they have near-death experiences?* I didn’t think you went in for that sort of thing.”

“Come on, Ike. You know I don’t. I’m talking about different spatial dimensions--not different spiritual planes!”

“But how can different spatial dimensions change anything? Why would using paper with different dimensions--11″ x 8″ instead of 12″ x 9″, for example--make any difference at all?”

“Stop teasing. That’s not what I’m talking about either. I’m really planning to introduce new dimensions of space, just like the dimensions we see, but along entirely new directions.”

“Dimensions we don’t see? I thought three dimensions is all there are.”

“Hang on, Ike. We’ll soon see about that.”

*Questions I’ve actually been asked.

Restricted Passages: Rolled-up Extra Dimensions

Athena awoke with a start. The previous day she had read Alice in Wonderland and Flatland in order to seek some inspiration about dimensions. But that night she had the strangest dream, which, when fully conscious, she recognized as the result of having read the two books on the same day.*

Athena dreamed she had turned into Alice, slipped into a rabbit hole, and met the resident Rabbit, who had pushed her out into an unfamiliar world. Athena had thought it a rather rude way to convey a guest. Even so, she had eagerly looked forward to the upcoming adventure in Wonderland.

Athena was in for a disappointment, however. The resident Rabbit, who was fond of puns, had sent her instead to OneDLand, a strange, not so wonderful, one-dimensional world. Athena looked around--or, I should say, to her left and right--and discovered that all she could see were two points--one to her left and another to her right (but in a prettier color, she thought).

In OneDLand, all the one-dimensional people with their one-dimensional possessions were lined up along this single dimension like long, thin beads strung out along a thread. But even with her limited purview, Athena knew there must be more to OneDLand than met her eyes because of the outrageous din that met her ears. A Red Queen was well hidden behind a dot, but Athena couldn’t miss her strident yells: “This is the most ridiculous chess game I have ever seen! I can’t move any pieces, not even to castle!” Athena was relieved when she realized her one-dimensional existence shielded her from the wrath of the Red Queen.

But Athena’s cozy universe did not last long. Slipping through a gap in ONeDLand, she returned to the dreamworld’s rabbit hole, which had an elevator that could take her to hypothetical, other dimensional universes. Almost immediately, the Rabbit announced, “Next stop: TwoDLand--a two-dimensional world.” Athena didn’t think “TwoDLand” a very nice name, but she cautiously entered all the same.

Athena needn’t have been so hesitant. Almost everything in TwoDLand looked the same as in OneDLand. SHe did notice one difference--a vial labeled “Drink me.” Bored with one dimension, Athena promptly obeyed. She quickly shrank to a tiny size, and as she became smaller, a second dimension came into view. This second dimension was not very big--it was wrapped around in a fairly small circle. Her surroundings now resembled the surface of an extremely long tube. A Dodo was racing around the circular dimension, but he wanted to stop. So he kindly offered Athena, who looked rather hungry, some cake.

When Athena ate a morsel of the Dodo’s dreamcake, she started to grow. After only a few bites (she was quite sure of this, as she was still rather hungry), the cake very nearly disappeared; all that remained was a very tiny crumb. At least Athena thought there was a crumb, but she could see it only when she squinted very hard. And the cake wasn’t the only thing that had vanished from view: when Athena returned to her usual size, the entire second dimension had disappeared.

She thought to herself, “TwoDLand is very yodd indeed. I’d best be getting home.” Her return journey was not without further adventures, but those will be kept for another time.

*Or perhaps this story is a result of my having begun my education at the perhaps questionably named Lewis Carroll School, P.S. 179, in Queens.

Exclusive Passages: Branes, Braneworlds, and the Bulk

Unlike the studious Athena, Ike rarely read any books. He generally preferred playing with games, gadgets, and cars. But Ike hated driving in Boston, where the drivers were reckless, the roads were badly signposted, and the highways were invariably under construction. Ike always ended up stuck in traffic, which he found especially frustrating when he could see a nearly empty freeway overhead. Though the empty road would be tempting, Ike would have no way to quickly reach it since, unlike Athena’s owls*, he couldn’t fly. For Ike trapped on slow roads in Boston, the third dimension was no use at all.

[*nb: owls are mentioned in the chapter body:]

When you peg someone as one-dimensional, you actually have something rather specific in mind: you mean that the person only has a single interest. For example, Sam, who does nothing but sit at home watching sports, can be described with just one piece of information. If you felt so inclined, you could picture this information with a one-dimensional graph: Sam’s proclivity to watch sports, for example. In drawing this graph you need to specify your units so that someone else can udnerstand what the distance along this single axis means, such as the number of hours Sam spends per week watching sports on TV. (Fortunately, Sam won’t be insulted by this example; he is not among the multidimensional readers of this book.)

When we describe most people, however, we usually assign them more than one, or even three, characteristics. Athena is an eleven-year-old who reads avidly, excels at math, keeps abreast of current events, and raises pet owls. You might want to plot this too (though why, exactly, I’m not really sure). In that case, Athena would have to be plotted a s point in a five-dimensional space with axes corresponding to age, number of books read per week, average math test score, number of minutes spent reading the newspaper per day, and nubmer of owls she owns. However, I’m having trouble drawing such a graph.

“Hey, Athena, is that Casablanca you’re watching?”

“Sure is. Want to join me? This is such a great scene.”

You must remember this, A kiss is just a kiss, A sigh is just a sigh, The fundamental things apply as time goes by.

“Hang on, Ike. Don’t you think that last line’s a little weird? It’s supposed to be so romantic, but it almost sounds as if it’s about physics.”

“Athena, if you think that’s strange, you’ve got to hear the opening verse of the original:”

This day and age we’re living in, Give cause for apprehension, With speed and new invention, And things like fourth dimension, Yet we get a trifle weary, With Mr. Einstein’s theory...

“Ike, you don’t really expect me to believe that, do you? Next thing I know you’ll tell me Rick and Ilsa escape into the seventh dimension! Why don’t we forget I ever said anything and just sit back and watch the movie?”

[nb: actually true]

Relativity: The Evolution of Einstein’s Gravity

Icarus (Ike) Rushmore II couldn’t wait to show Dieter his new Porsche. But as proud as he was of his car, he was even more excited about his Global Positioning System (GPS) that he had recently designed and installed himself.

Ike wanted to impress Dieter, so he convinced his friend to drive with him to the local track. They got in the car, Ike programmed in their destination, and the two of them set off. But to Ike’s chagrin, they ended up in the wrong place--the GPS system didn’t work nearly as well as he had thought it would. Dieter’s first thought was that Ike must have made some ridiculous error, like confusing meters and feet. But Ike didn’t believe he could have made such a stupid mistake, and he bet Dieter that wasn’t the problem.

The next day, Ike and Dieter did some troubleshooting. But to their dismay, when they went for a drive, the GPS was even worse than before. Ike and Dieter searched again for the problem and finally, after a frustrating week, Dieter had an epiphany. He did a quick calculation and made the startling discovery that without accounting for general relativity, the GPS system would build up errors at the rate of more than 10 km per day. Ike didn’t think his Porsche was fast enough to warrant relativistic calculations, but Dieter explained that the GPS signals--not the car--travel at the speed of light. Dieter modified the software to account for the changing gravitational field the GPS signals had to pass through. .Ike’s system then worked as well as the readily available commercial variety. Relieved, Ike and Dieter began to plan a road trip.

Quantum Mechanics: Principled Uncertainty, the Principal Uncertainties, and the Uncertainty Principle

Ike wondered whether Athena was making him watch too many movies or Dieter was talking too much about physics. But whatever the reason, the previous night Ike dreamed he met a quantum detective. Dressed in a fedora, a trench coat, and with a stone-faced expression, the dream detective spoke:

“I knew nothing about her except her name, and that she was standing there before me. But from the moment I set eyes on her I knew Electra* would be trouble. When I asked her where she came from, she refused to say. The room had two entrances, and she must have come through one. But Electra whispered hoarsely, ‘Mister, forget it. I’ll never tell you which.’

“Although I saw that she was shaking, I tried to pin this lady down. But Electra paced frenetically when I started to approach. She begged me to come no closer. Seeing she was agitated, I kept away. I was no stranger to uncertainty, but this time it had me beat. It looked like uncertainty was going to stick around here for a while.”

*The name refers to the electron, not the character in Greek mythology.

The Standard Model of Particle Physics: Matter’s Most Basic Known Structure

Of all the stories she had read, Athena was most thoroughly perplexed by Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Princess and the Pea.” The story tells of a Prince who searched unsuccessfully for a suitable princess to wed. After he had searched in vain for weeks, a potential princess arrived by chance at his palace, seeking shelter from a storm. This soggy visitor thereby became the unwitting subject of the Queen’s litmus test for princesses.

The Queen prepared a bed, which she piled high with mattresses and eiderdown quilts. At the very bottom of the pile she placed a solitary pea. That night, she showed her visitor to the carefully prepared guest room. The next morning, the princess (as indeed she proved herself to be) complained that she had not been able to sleep at all. She had tossed and turned the whole night, and found she had actually turned black and blue--all because of the uncomfortable pea. The Queen and Prince were convinced that their visitor was truly of royal blood, for who else could be so delicate?

Athena turned the story round and round in her head. She thought it fairly ridiculous, even the most sensitive of princesses, would ever have discovered the pea by lying passively on top of the pile of mattresses. After many days’ deliberation, Athena found a plausible interpretation, which she rushed to tell her brother.

She rejected the common interpretation that the princess proved her royal nature by demonstrating delicacy and refinement with her sensitivity to even something as minor as a pea under a pile of mattresses. She offered an alternative explanation.

Athena suggested that when the Queen went away and left the princess alone in the room, the princess threw decorum to the wind and gave vent to her boisterous youthful nature. The princess ran around and jumped up and down on her bed until she was exhausted, and only then lay down to try to sleep. Through her rambunctiousness, the princess compressed the mattresses so much that for a brief moment the pea stuck out like a sore thumb and gave her a small bruise. Athena thought this princess was still rather impressive, but found her revisionist interpretation much more satisfactory.

Experimental Interlude: Verifying the Standard Model

Ike once again dreamed he met the quantum detective. This time, the sleuth knew what he was after--and he had a pretty good idea where it should be. All he had to do was wait--sooner or later, if he wasn’t mistaken, his quarry would appear.

Symmetry: The Essential Organizing Principle

Athena uncaged three of her owls and let them fly around. Unfortunately for Ike, he had left the top of his convertible down that day and the curious owls flew right in. The most mischievous of the owls pecked at the car’s interior and ended up tearing it a little.

When Ike saw the damage, he stormed into Athena’s room and demanded that she watch her owls more carefully in the future. Athena protested that her owls were almost all well-behaved and she need only keep an eye on the bad one. But by that time the owls were back in their cages, and neither Ike nor Athena could identify which one was guilty.

The Origin of Elementary Particle Masses: Spontaneous Symmetry Breaking and the Higgs Mechanism

The stricter enforcement of speed limits made long-distance driving a nightmare for Icarus III. He longed to race as fast as he pleased, but police pulled him over nearly every half-mile. The cops never bothered with dull, neutral cars, but harassed only the lively, turbo-charged vehicles, like his own.

Ike resigned himself to driving only short distances, since that way he could avoid the police altogether. Within the half-mile-wide region around where he started, police never interfered and he could always drive impressively fast. Though the Porsche engine’s force was unknown outside his neighborhood, closer to home it became legendary.

Scaling and Grand Unification: Relating Interactions at Different Lengths and Energies

Athena often felt like she was the last to be told anything interesting. She didn’t even hear about Ike’s adventures with his car until after he had owned it for over a month. And she didn’t learn them from him directly--she learned about them from a friend of hers who had heard about them from Dieter’s cousin’s brother, who had learned about them from Dieter’s cousin, who had heard about them from Dieter.

Through this indirect route, Athena was told Ike’s remark, “The influence of forces depends on where you are.” Ike’s uncharacteristic pronouncement completely mystified Athena until she realized that the message must have been distorted along the way. After thinking about it for a while, she decided that Ike’s real remark must have been, “The performance of Porsches depends on the model of the car.”

The Hierarchy Problem: The Only Effective Trickle-Down Theory

Ike Rushmore III came to an ignominious end when he drove his resplendent new Porsche into a lamppost. He was nonetheless happy in Heaven, where he could play games all the time. He was a gambling man at heart.

One day, God Himself invited Ike to a rather strange game. God told him to write down a sixteen-digit number. God would roll the heavenly isocahedral die. Unlike a normal, cubic die with six sides, this die had twenty sides, with the digits 0 through 9 written twice. God explained that He would throw this die sixteen times and construct a sixteen-digit number by listing the results, one after the other. If God and Ike came up with the same enormous number--that is, if all the digits matched in the correct order--God would win. If the numbers weren’t exactly the same--that is, if any of the digits failed to match--Ike would defeat God.

God began to roll. The first side that came up was the number 4. This agreed with the first digit of Ike’s number, which was 4,715,031,495,526,312. Ike was surprised when God rolled correctly, since the odds were only one in ten. Nevertheless, he was pretty sure the second or third number would be wrong; the odds of God’s rolling both numbers correctly in succession was only one in a hundred.

God threw the first die for a second and then a third time. He rolled a 7 and then a 1, which were also correct. He kept rolling until, to Ike’s astonishment, He had rolled all sixteen digits correctly. The chances of this happening randomly were only 1 in 10,000,000,000,000,000. How could God have won?

Ike was a bit angry (one can’t get very angry in Heaven) and asked how something so ridiculously unlikely could have happened. God sagely replied, “I am the only one who could expect to win, since I am both omniscient and omnipotent. Howeer, you must have heard, I do not like to play dice.”

And with that, GAMBLING FORBIDDEN was posted on a cloud. Ike was furious (of course, only a little). Not only had he lost the game, but he’d also lost the right to gamble.

Supersymmetry: A Leap Beyond the Standard Model

When Icarus first arrived in Heaven, he was directed to an orientation seminar where the authorities explained the local rules. To his surprise, he learned that right-wing religious groups were essentially correct, and family values were indeed a cornerstone of his new environment. The authorities had long ago established and traditional family structure premised on the separation of generations and the stability of marriages; a top would always marry a bottom, a charmer would always align with a strange bird, and an uptown girl would always marry a downtown cool cat. Everyone, including Ike, was satisfied with the arrangement.

But Ike later learned that the social structure in Heaven had not always been so secure. Originally, dangerous energetic infiltrators had threatened the hierarchical foundation of society. In Heaven, however, most problems can be solved. God had sent everyone a personal guardian angel, and the angels and their charges had heroically worked together to avert the threat to the hierarchy and preserve the ordered society that Ike could now enjoy.

Even so, Heaven was not entirely safe. The angels turned out to be free agents, with no contract binding them to a single generation. The fickle angels, who had so bravely rescued the hierarchy, now threatened to destroy Heaven’s family values. Ike was appalled. Despite Heaven’s well-advertised attractions, he was finding it a surprisingly stressful place.

Allegro (Ma Non Troppo) Passage for Strings

Fast forward a millennium.

Icarus Rushmore XLII was trying out his new Alicxvr Device, Model 6.3, that he had recently purchased from the Spacernet. (Icarus III’s interest in speed and gadgets had apparently been passed down through many generations.) The Alicxvr was designed to let the user view things of any size, from the very small to the very large. Ike was pretty sure that most of his friends who had purchased the Alicxvr Device would first try the large settings, of many megaparsecs, so they could see into outer space beyond the known universe. But Ike thought, “I know just as little about what is happening at extremely tiny distances,” and decided to investigate a miniscule scale instead.

However, Ike was an impatient sort. He couldn’t be bothered to read the extensive instruction manual accompanying his device and instead decided to plunge right in. Blithely ignoring the red indicator overlapping the smallest sizes, he adjusted his dial to the 10 -33 cm setting and pressed the button labeled “Go.”

To his horror, he found himself space-sick in a wildly oscilllating, precipitous landscape filled with strings. Space was no longer the smooth, anonymous background he was accustomed to. Instead it was jiggling rapidly in places, heading into pointy sections in others, or wandering off into loops that pinched off or later rejoined the surface. Ike fumbled desperately for the “Stop” button and only just managed to press it in time to return to normal with his senses intact.

After recovering his stability, Ike decided he probably should have read the manual after all. He turned to the “Warning” section and read: “Your new Alicxvr Device Model 6.3 works only for sizes larger than 10 -33 cm. We have not yet incorporated the latest string theory developments, whose predictions physicist and mathematicians connected to the physical world only last year.”

Ike was very disappointed when he realized that only the newer Model 7.0 included the latest results. But Ike then caught up with the most recent string theory developments, souped up his Alicxvr, and never got space-sick again.

Supporting Passages: Brane Development

Ike Rushmore XLII decided to dive down once again to the miniscule Planck scale. Happily, his souped-up Alicxvr worked perfectly and he smoothly arrived in a ten-dimensional universe filled with strings. Eager to explore his new environment, Ike cranked up the hyperdrive attachment he had purchased from Gbay. He watched with fascination as strings collided and tangled in mesmerizing ways.

Although Ike worried that the Alicxvr might break down, he was curious to learn more about this novel world. So he increased the pressure on the hyperdrive lever. At first strings collided together even more frequently. But when he cranked up the lever still more, he entered a new, completely unrecognizable environment. Ike couldn’t even tell whether spacetime was intact. But he kept cranking up the hyperdrive, and, strangely enough, emerged unscathed.*

However, his surroundings were now quite different. Ike was no longer in the ten-dimensional universe he had started off in. He was instead in an eleven-dimensional universe filled with particles and branes. And, odd as it seemed, nothing in this new universe interacted very much. When Ike looked back at his controls, he discovered the hyperdrive lever had mysteriously reset to low. Confused and rather exasperated, Ike cranked up the lever once again, only to find himself back where he started. When Ike checked thee controls, he discovered that the hyperdrive lever was once again back at low.

Ike thought his Alicxvr was probably malfunctioning. But when he checked his up-to-date manual he discovered that his device was operating perfectly--high hyperdrive in ten-dimensional string theory was the same as low hyperdrive in an alternate eleven-dimensional world. And vice versa.

The manual didn’t say what should happen when the hyperdrive wasn’t very low or very high, so Ike entered the spacernet and put himself on the wait-list for an improved version that would solve the problem. But the Alicxvr designers promised only that the release date would be some time within the millennium.

*Actually, according to the duality we learn about in this chapter, even the probes used to study a given version of string theory change character when the coupling becomes strong. So if Ike really was part of the string world, he, too, would change.

Bustling Passages: Braneworlds

Icarus III was becoming increasingly disillusioned with Heaven. He had expected it to be a liberal, forgiving environment. But instead, gambling was prohibited, metal silverware was forbidden, and smoking was no longer allowed. The most restrictive constraint of all was that Heaven was stuck on a Heavenbrane; its residents were forbidden to travel into the fifth dimension.

Everyone on the Heavenbrane knew about the fifth dimension and the existence of other branes. In fact, the righteous Heavenbraners often whispered about the unsavory characters sequestered on a Jailbrane not too far away. However, the Jailbraners couldn’t hear any of the slander that Heavenbraners spread about them, so all remained peaceful in the bulk and on the branes.

Sparsely Populated Passages: Multiverses and Sequestering

Despite its explicit prohibition on the Heavenbrane, Icarus III ultimately returned to gambling. After ignoring repeated reprimands, he was sentenced to confinement on the Jailbrane, a distant brane separated from the Heavenbrane along a fifth dimension. Even after he was sequestered on the Jailbrane, Ike doggedly tried to contact his former buddies. But the distance between their two branes made communication difficult. He was reduced to flagging down passing bulk mail carriers, many of whom ignored his entreaties altogether. The few who did stop always conveyed his messages to the Heavenbrane, but at a frustratingly leisurely pace.

Meanwhile, back on the Heavenbrane, disaster loomed. The guardian angels, who had so bravely rescued the hierarchy, had no respect for the other residents’ family values and were on the verge of creating intergenerational instability. Heaven’s fallen angels considered all pairings acceptable and encouraged everyone to mix with a trophy partner from another generation.

When Ike learned of the threat, he was aghast and he resolved to redeem the situation. Ike realized that by using the slow and deliberate manner with which he was constrained to communicate with the Heavenbrane, he could judiciously feed the massive egos of the unruly angels living there. Thanks to Ike’s helpful intervention, the angels stopped threatening the social order. Although Icarus III still had to serve his sentence, the relieved residents on the Heavenbrane honored him forevermore in urban myth.

Leaky Passages: Fingerprints of Extra Dimensions

Athena had to admit that she missed Ike. Even though she had often found him annoying, she was pretty lonely without him. She was looking forward to spending time with K. Square, an exchange student who was planning to visit. But she was appalled by the closed-mindedness of her neighbors, who were all apprehensive about K. Square’s arrival. It didn’t matter that he spoke the same language and behaved the same way as everyone else. In the current climate, K. Square’s foreign origin alone was enough to make them wary.

When Athena asked her neighbors why they were so anxious, they replied “What if he sends for his heavier relatives? What if they’re not so well behaved as he is and stick to their foreign laws? And when they all arrive together, what will happen then?”

Unfortunately, Athena heightened their suspicions by telling them that K. Square and his relatives couldn’t possibly stay long in any case, since they were all very unstable and the K. Square family could visit only during the commotion of energetic gatherings. Recognizing her unfortunate choice of words, Athena reassuringly added that the foreigners would stick to local laws during their brief and exciting visits. Convinced, her neighbors then joined her in welcoming the K. Square clan.

Voluminous Passages: Large Extra Dimensions

Now that K. Square’s visit was over, Athena spent a lot of time at the local Internet cafe. She was exhilarated by her recent discovery of some mysterious new websites, the most intriguing of which was xxx.socloseandyetsofar.al. Athena suspected that these suggestive sites were a consequence of the recent AOB (America On Brane)/Spacetime Warner multimedia merger, but she had to go home before she had time to investigate.

When Athena arrived at her house she rushed to her computer, where she once again sought the exotic hyperlinks that had been so readily accessible at the Internet cafe. To her frustration, however, CyberNanny prevented her from reaching the forbidden dimensionally enhanced sites.* But by cloaking her identity with her secure alias, Mentor, Athena vanquished her cybercensor and succeeded in finally returning to the mysterious hyperlinks.

Athena secretly hoped that K. Square had sent her a message that was hidden in a webpage. But the sites were not easy to understand, and she managed to pick up only a few potentially meaningful signals. She resolved to study their content some more and hoped the merger--unlike the other merger with a similar name--would last long enough for her to figure them out.

*Physicists post their papers on a website that begins with “xxx”: check out xxx.lanl.gov. Internet filters have occasionally forbidden access to this site as well.

Warped Passage: A Solution to the Hierarchy Problem

Athena awoke with a start. She had just revisited her recurring dream, which had again begun with her entering the dreamworld’s rabbit hole. In this episode, when the Rabbit announced, “Next stop, TwoDLand,” Athena ignored him and waited to hear the choices that remained.

At the three-spatial-dimensional stop, the Rabbit announced “If you lived here, you’d be home by now.” But he refused to open the doors, despite Athena’s pleas that she did indeed live there and very much wanted to return home.

At the next stop, uniformed six-dimensioners tried to enter. But the Rabbit took one look at their inordinately large girth and abruptly closed the doors, saying that they couldn’t possibly fit. They quickly departed once the Rabbit threatened to cut them down to size.*

The elevator continued on its extraordinary journey. When it stopped again, the Rabbit announced, “Warped Geometry--a five-dimensional world.”** He gently pushed Athena towards the door, advising her, “Enter the funhouse mirror--it will take you home.”

Since the Rabbit had mentioned a fifth dimension, Athena found this highly unlikely. But she didn’t have any choice but to enter and hope the tricky Rabbit was right.

*As we saw in Chapter 18, extra dimensions can be uniform, large, and flat. The Rabbit is skeptical about this idea. **This counting includes a dimension of time.

The Warped Annontated “Alice” ¹

Athena stepped out of the dreamworld’s elevator into the warped five-dimensional world and was astonished to see only three spatial dimensions. Was the Rabbit playing games, pretending to take her to a world with four spatial dimensions when in fact there were only three? What a funny way to travel to what looked like an ordinary world!²

With great gallantry, a local received the puzzled new arrival. “Welcome to Branesville,³ our glorious capital. Permit me to show you around.” Athena, who was tired and confused, blurted out, “Branesville doesn’t look all that special. Even the mayor looks completely normal,” although she had to confess, she wasn’t entirely sure as she had never seen a mayor before.

The mayor to whom Athena referred had arrived accompanied by the Cheshire Fat Cat, his Chief Advisor. The Cat’s job was keeping tabs on everything in the city, which was greatly facilitated by his skill at catching people unawares--especially surprising in lgith of the Cat’s enormous bulk. The Cat loved to explain that he owed this skill to his ability to disappear into the bulk, but no one ever understood what he meant.⁴

The Cat materialized next to Athena and asked if she would like to accompany him as he made his rounds. He warned her tha she had better be comfortable ith bulk, to which Athena eagerly responded that her favorite uncle was in fact very, very fat. The Cat looked skeptical, but agreed to take her along. He offered Athena cream cake with butter frosting, in which she happily indulged. And off they went.

Athena wondered what it was she’d eaten. She now appeared to be on a four-dimensional slice of a five-dimensional world, and as far as she could tell, she was no thicker than this thin four-dimensional slice. She exclaimed, “I am like my paper doll! But whereas Dolly has two spatial dimensions in a three-dimensional world, I have three spatial dimensions in a four-dimensional world.

The Cat grinned sagely and explained, “You are now conscious of what I like to call The Bulk. You are still in Branesville, but will be leaving (and growing) momentarily. Branesville is in reality part of a five-dimensional universe, but the fifth dimension is warped so discreetly that Branesville residents are completely unaware of its existence. They have no idea that Branesville is the border of a five-dimensional state. You too mistakenly concluded on your arrival that there are only three spatial dimensions. The new Athena, untethered from the brane, is free to travel out into the fifth dimension. May I suggest for our destination another village called Weakbrane, at the other edge of the five-dimensional universe?”

What a strange five-dimensional journey it turned out to be. After leaving Branesville, Athena found herself moving in another dimension, and growing as she did so.⁵ When the observant Cat noticed the confused look on Athena’s face, he reassuringly explained, “Weakbrane is close by and we will be there very soon.⁶ It’s lovely, but don’t be alarmed when you see that, like the Branesville residents you encountered, Weakbrane residents scoff at the notion of four spatial dimensions. You, who can see out into the bulk, will see a huge shadow on Branesville, ten million billion times bigger than the one with which you started. Almost everything else will seem to you and to them to be entirely normal.”

But upon her arrival in Weakbrane, Athena noticed one other thing. The four-dimensional graviton had quietly accompanied the travelers on their journey and was softly tapping on her shoulder. He touched her so extremely gently that she had barely noticed.⁷

But she couldnt’ ignore the graviton when he launched into a litany of complaints. “Weakbrane would be so exciting, were it not for the superior influence of the entrenched hierarchy. The strong, weak, and electromagnetic armed forces on the Weakbrane permit me only the most feeble strength.” The graviton whined how everywhere else he was a force to be reckoned with, especially in Branesville, which is ruled by an oligarchy with comparably strong forces.⁸ Weakbrane, where gravity was the most suppressed, was the graviton’s least favorite place.⁹ The graviton turned to Athena in hope of enlisting her in his plan to wrest power from the reigning authorities.

Athena thought she had better leave immediately and looked around for the rabbit hole, but couldn’t find it. She did find a white rabbit, whom she expected to be an efficient guide. But the Weakbrane rabbit had an alarmingly sluggish gait, and kept repeating how happy he was that his date would wait.¹⁰ Athena realized that this rabbit wasn’t going anywhere, so she found a more anxious rabbit she could follow, and worked her way back home. Once she understood the physics implications, Athena enjoyed her dream enormously--though it should be noted that she never again ate cream cake.

¹ This title borrows from Martin Gardner’s delightful Annotated Alice, in which he explains the wordplay, math riddles, and references in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. ² The brane itself is large and flat and has only three spatial dimensions. Only gravity makes contact with the additional dimension. Remember that the five-dimensional space has four spatial dimensions (and one of time), whereas the brane has three spatial dimensions. I’ll still call time the fourth dimension, and I’ll call the additional dimension the fifth. ³ Branesville is the Gravitybrane. ⁴ The Fat Cat, unlike Branesville residents, is not confined to the brane. ⁵ Everything is bigger and lighter near the Weakbrane. Athena’s shadow over Branesville grew as she got closer to the Weakbrane and further away from the Gravitybrane. ⁶ The fifth dimension does not have to be very big in order to solve the hierarchy problem. ⁷ Gravity is feeble on the Weakbrane, where the graviton’s probability function is so small. ⁸ On the Gravitybrane, gravity is no weaker than the other forces. ⁹ The petulant graviton is complaining that on the Weakbrane, gravity is much weaker than the electromagnetic, weak, and strong forces. Gravity would be much stronger (and have a strength closer to that of the other forces) closer to the Gravitybrane. ¹⁰ Things are bigger and time is slower on the Weakbrane. The rabbit’s laxness is accounted for by rescaling time.

Profound Passage: An Infinite Extra Dimension

Athena woke up with a start. Her recurring dream had once again taken her down the rabbit hole. This time, however, she asked the rabbit to take her straight back to the warped five-dimensional world. Athena arrived back in Branesville (or so she thought). The Cat soon appeared, and she eagerly turned to him, anticipating her dream cake and a delightful excursion to the Weakbrane. She was sorely disappointed when the Cat told her there was no such thing as Weakbrane in this particular universe.*

Athena didn’t believe the Cat and thought there must be another brane further away. Proud of herself for understanding how, in the warped geometry, further-away branes had weaker gravity, she decided it was probably called the “Meekbrane” and asked the Cat whether she could go there.

But once again she was in for a disappointment. The Cat explained, “There is no such place. You are on the Brane; there are no others.”

“Curiouser and curiouser, thought Athena. This clearly wasn’t exactly the same space as before, since it had only a single brane. But Athena wasn’t ready to give up. “May I see for myself that there is no other brane?” she asked in her sweetest tone.

The Cat strongly advised her against it, warning, “Four-dimensional gravity on the brane is no guarantee of four-dimensional gravity in the bulk. Once I nearly lost everything but my smile there.”

Athena was a cautious girl, despite her many adventures, and she took the Cat’s warning to heart. But she often wondered what the Cat meant. What did lie beyond the Brane, and how would she ever know?

*The geomery of this chapter is warped, as in the previous ones, but now there is only a single brane--the Gravitybrane. Although this means that there is an infinite fifth dimension, this chapter will show why this is perfectly fine with the warped spacetime.

A Reflective and Expansive Passage

Ike XLII as ready to live large. He wanted to test the Alicxvr’s ultra-high settings of many megaparsecs, with which he could explore places beyond the Galaxy and the known universe and experience distant regions no one had ever seen before.

So he was thrilled when the Alicxvr took him to distances 9, 12, and 13 billion light-years away. But his excitement diminished when he tried to go farther and his signal strength fell precipitously. When he aimed for 15 billion years, his exploration aborted completely: he no longer received any information at all. Instead, he heard, “Message 5B73: The Horizon customer you are trying to reach is beyond your calling area. If you need assistance, please contact your local long-distance operator.”

Ike couldnt’ believe his ears. It was the thirty-first century, yet his Horizon service still provided only limited coverage. When Ike tried to contact the operator, a recording said, “Please stay on the brane. Your call will be answered in the order in which it was received.” Ike suspected that the operator would never respond, and was wise enough not to wait.

Extra Dimensions: Are You In or Are You Out?

Athena’s dreams about OneDLand, branes, and five dimensions were passed down for generations. When Ike XLII heard them, he wanted to check whether there was any truth to her stories. So he took out his Alicxvr and went down to a very small scale--not so small that strings would appear, but sufficiently small to check whether there was a fifth dimension. The Alicxvr answered Ike’s question by sending him off to a five-dimensional world.

But Ike was not completely satisfied. He remembered the bizarre things that had happened earlier on when he had fooled around with the hyperdrive option. So he once again cranked up the hyperdrive lever--and once again, everything changed drastically. Ike couldn’t identify a single familiar point. He could tell only one thing: the fifth dimension had disappeared.

Ike was mystified, so he searched the spacernet to see what it could tell him about “dimensions.” He waded through numerous sites that he recognized from his more embarassing spam, but soon realized that he’d have to refine his search. When he still couldn’t find anything definitive, he conceded that he wouldn’t know the fundamental origin of dimensions any time soon. So he decided to turn his attention to time travel instead.

(In)Conclusion

Icarus Rushmore XLII used his time machine to visit the past and warn Icarus III of the disaster that awaited him should he continue driving his Porsche. Ike III was so astounded by his visitor from the future that he heeded Ike XLII’s warning. He traded in his Porsche for a Fiat and subsequently led a full, contented, and slower-paced life.

Athena was ecstatic to be reunited with her brother, and Dieter was happy to see his friend, though both of them were confused since it seemed as if Ike had never left. Athena and Dieter realized that the time travel that Ike reported to them was pure fiction. Even in dreams, the Cat never looped through time, the Rabbit never reached a stop with extra time dimensions, and the quantum detective refused to contemplate such odd behavior of time. But Athena and Dieter preferred happy endings. So they suspended disbelief and accepted Ike’s fantastic story all the same.

#lisa randall

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nicolekidmanwigfactory · 7 years ago

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Pedro Almodóvar's "A Little Night Music"

I was VERY VERY VERY bored at work last night and it occurred to me that A Little Night Music would be a perfect musical for Almodóvar to adapt, with it’s switching partners and examination of the sexes and sexuality. So I got creative and imagined what that might look like and modeled it based on his late 1980s/early 1990s movies. All the songs would remain in their normal places, perhaps with a few lines modified to reflect its updated time and setting.

The show is interrupted with commentary by the Liebeslieder Singers, now a group of Flamenco Singers. While still in waltz time, the music takes on the more traditional musical sounds of Spain.

Desiree Armfeldt, Spain's aging, but glamorous thespian, tours the country during the 1980s at the height of the La movida madrileña in a flashy production of Lorca’s Blood Wedding. Back on his Toledo estate, her father, Señor Armfeldt- Madrid's most famous drag queen/rent boy before the Civil War- raises his daughter’s daughter, Federica, a dour girl with a penchant for staging suicides based on the Catholic martyrs. Señor Armfeldt enchants Federica with stories of his childhood, including the three sonrisas of the night.

Desiree’s former lover, the widowed Federico is a cabinet minister in the Suarez government and newly married to the still-virginal Ana, a former novitiate who left the convent due to an incident involving the Friday fish during the previous year’s Lenten season. Federico's son, Enrique, a theology student at the local university, has known Ana since birth and shares a familial bond with her, as well as a carnal desire. Ana’s maid, Paula, a companion of Franco and his allies, regales Ana with tales of her worldly knowledge.

With the help of his manservant, Señor Armfeldt puts on his old drag and reminisces about his prime, before the Civil War, and how his talents brought him his riches, and how even with Franco gone, he’s far too old to go back to his old life of drag and tricks. At appropriate pauses in “Liasions,” Señor Armfeldt delivers veiled insults toward his daughter which also serve as critiques of regressive Franco regime and its Catholic supporters.

Federico and Ana attend a performance of Blood Wedding, but leave after Ana becomes upset, Federico returns to stage door Desiree, where they rekindle their relationship and have a tryst after he explains his marital predicament to Desiree. Desiree’s current lover, the bisexual and recently retired torero Carlo Magnus-Malcolm, interrupts them and after talking her way out of the sticky situation, Federico leaves and returns home to Ana. Carlo doubts Desiree’s story and tells his wife, the transgender matchmaker/cabaret singer Carlota, who realizes Ana is an old classmate of her younger sister.

Carlota pays Ana a visit and informs her of her husband’s infidelity over a glass of sangria. Over a flashback montage with an anachronistic recording of Estrella Morente singing in the background, Carlota explains to Ana how during her time living and working as a Catholic priest, listening to the confessions of adulterous men showed her that men cause their wives nothing but pain. The priestly Carlota took on each of their sins personally, leading her to realize that she herself did so because she accepted their sins as a woman, not as a priest, leading Carlota to come to terms with her long-questioned gender identity. Ana questions why Carlota puts up with her husband’s infidelities.

Desiree plots to steal Federico from Ana. Ana and Carlota plot to shame Desiree for her home wrecking and embarrass their husbands in the process. Enrique struggles with reconciling his theological studies and his borderline-incestuous feelings for his step-mother, going so far to frequenting a similar looking prostitute. Federica’s staged suicides become more elaborate. All of this eventually culminates in a visit from Desiree to her father and daugher. She convinces her father to host Federico and his family at the estate outside of Toledo to spend a weekend in the country. The invitations go out, and lo and behold, who shows up but Carlo and Carlota, on their way to Granada for Carlo to meet with an up-and-coming matador to possibly take on and train.

During the siesta, Señor Armfeldt’s guests mingle: Ana and Carlota get their plan straight; Federico and Carlo discuss their shared ambitions with Desiree in the driest of terms while keeping wary of the other; Enrique gets on well with Federica and confesses that he’s in love with his stepmother, the first time he’s said it aloud.

Señor Armfeldt, tasked with his most extravagant party since the fall of the Second Spanish Republic, puts on his highest drag and proceeds to dust off his pre-war persona of Madame Tápame during dinner, much to the embarrassment of Desiree but delight of her guests. Carlota flirts with Federico, angering her husband and upsetting Ana, despite Ana’s knowledge of the plan. Desiree is able to rebuff all of Carlota’s disguised insults with her own stinging rebukes. Madame Tápame, reveling in being able to live out her vocation once again, reads everyone at the table for their atrocious behavior, but Enrique storms away from the table after declaring everyone immoral. To cut the tension, Federica stages a suicide modeled on the martyrdom of Santa Cecilia, using one of Carlo’s banderillos as the sword.

Everyone leaves the table except Federica. Still posing as Santa Cecilia, we see her smile for the first time before she leaves to find Ana and tell her about Enrique’s love. Desiree catches up with Federico to “rescue” him from his marriage, but he rebuffs her. She’s hurt but lets him go.

Ana finds Enrique with another of Carlo’s banderillos, who’s ready to slice his throat when Ana declares how comical he’s been. They embrace and run off into the barn. Ana’s maid Paula, who’d snuck off during the chaos of dinner, sneaks out of the main house, kisses Señor Armfeldt’s manservant good night, and sings “The Miller’s Son” to compare the fun of her life to Ana’s marriage, which also serves to examine the cultural revolution of Spain as a result of La movida madrileña- Ana’s marriage representing the Franco years and Paula being La movida. During the final “there are mouths to be kissed/before mouths to be fed...” portion, Paula gives a knowing glance, referring to Ana and her newfound freedom (NB: not that Federico was an oppressive and dictatorial husband, just than her life with Federico was symbolic of life under Franco, sexually repressed and unfulfilling).

Carlota finds Federico on the terrace and apologizes to him for her behavior at dinner. They see Enrique and Ana run by, kissing and discussing their future alive. Realizing what this means for him, Carlota comforts Federico. Inside the house, Desiree ends her relationship with Carlo once and for all. He spots Federico and Carolta sitting together through a window and misinterpreting their body language, challenges the other man to a fight. Federico refuses and takes a fist to the face and Carlota runs into her husband’s arms, bowled over by his willingness to fight for her. Desiree finds Federico again, and now free from his marital obligations, he allows himelf to be “rescued.” Señor Armfeldt, still in drag as Madame Tápame, discusses the night’s events with Federica, and says perhaps she’s not as irrelevant as she once thought, but even she must know when it’s time to stop living for the past and let the new generation of fools and lovers take over.

Señor Armfeldt is wheeled away and the curtain comes down on the evening’s three couples, now appropriately matched and dancing together in the flamenco style.

#i spent way too much time on this #pedro almodovar #sondheim #a little night music #alnm

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salamadersaurus-rex · 7 years ago

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Trouble

A Vasquez/Lena fic that got out of hand. Feat. nb!Vasquez.

Also on AO3.

Vasquez rides a motorbike. It’s an Iron 883, with a throaty roar that any DEO agent hears it rolling into the underground carpark knows by heart. When the Harley grumbles, Vasquez is near. So when a beautiful black Ferrari Spider pulls up outside the city base at eight am sharp, spilling Vas out onto the curb with a cheery wave to the driver, it raises some eyebrows.

“Sweet ride,” Alex says as Vasquez opens their locker.

“Though you preferred bikes, Danvers,” Vasquez teases. They change quickly out of their MIT shirt and jeans and into their uniform, comfortable enough with Alex that they don’t mind her seeing their binder.

Lucy comes into the locker room, fresh out of the shower after an early workout. She swats at Alex’s ass with a towel.

Alex yelps. “What are you, fifteen?”

“Twelve. Good night, Vas?”

“Dinner and a movie,” they say. “Well, microwave meal for one and Netflix.”

“Thought you had a date,” Alex says.

“What makes you think that?” Vas replies, keeping their tone nonchalant just so they can enjoy the look on her face.

“The fact someone drove you to work in a two hundred thousand dollar sports car?”

Lucy gapes. “Damn, Vasquez. Now you have to tell.”

Vasquez grins. They want to tell their friends who they’re dating. In fact they and their partner have talked about coming out for a while, but there’s just something so satisfying about watching Lucy and Alex squirm.

“Bike’s in the shop. I just thumbed a lift.”

And with that they saunter out the locker room, Alex and Lucy already bickering behind them.

They head to their computer, smoothly dodging Winn who’s wearing VR goggles and zooming around happily in his wheely chair. They put their headset on, tuning out the quiet chatter of a team on a routine patrol until it’s just white noise and set to reading over some code Winn sent. They actually manage to get five and a half minutes of work done before Kara comes sidling up to their desk.

“Sooo,” Kara says, playing with the edges of some paperwork in Vas’ in-tray. “Good night last night?”

“You’re as nosy as your sister, Danvers.”

“Wha- me? Nosy? Psshh.” Kara waves a hand, that adorable look on her face she gets when she’s trying to bluff. “I’m just… catching up, y’know. Haven’t spoken since-“

“You texted me and asked if I wanted coffee?”

“When was that? I don’t really…”

“Half an hour ago. Hey, complete change of subject but do you know how to play poker?”

“Just say no, Supergirl.” J’onn growls, spoiling Vasquez’s fun. “Agent Vasquez, I heard your motorcycle is out of commission. Do you need to borrow something from the garage?”

“No thanks sir. I have a ride sorted.”

“That’s what I wanted to ask about,” Kara says, jumping on the opportunity. “That was a very nice car.”

“Hmm.” Vasquez grins. “Driver wasn’t bad either.”

Supergirl makes an odd noise, taps out a quick rhythm on the table top. Vasquez is a highly trained agent and knows how to hold themself together, but damn, Kara’s making it hard.

“Did you not use your x-ray vision?” Vas asks.

“Didn’t think it was polite,” Kara mumbles.

She’s probably kicking herself with those nice red boots, Vasquez thinks. It’s hilarious. They spot Alex and Lucy leaving the locker room, both of them in badass agent mode and immediately starts paying attention.

There’s been an accident just outside of the city, an unmanned alien vehicle out of control. Kara’s already away with a whoosh that sends Vas’s paperwork flying, Alex and Lucy following her much more slowly out the door. Vasquez pulls up as many traffic cam feeds as they can, searching quickly for a good view of the accident.

It looks like a small, sleek vehicle has collided with a lorry, burying itself in the side. Billows of strangely coloured steam curl from a small fire raging in the wreckage, the occasional cascade of sparks shooting out towards the traffic snarling behind the crash like fireworks. Three cars back from the crash Vas can make out a familiar black Ferrari. The driver’s door opens and a slim figure gets out, the small first aid kit Vasquez made her start carrying in her hand.

Supergirl lands suddenly, blocking Vasquez’s view of Lena Luthor hurrying towards the crash site. Cursing under their breath, Vasquez pulls up another feed, checks Alex’s tracker to see how close she is.

Kara’s freeze breath easily puts out the fire. She pulls out the lorry driver, stunned but alive, and gently sits him at the side of the road. She must tell Lena to keep back as she approaches because Lena scoffs, picks her way over the debris daintily in her very expensive heels brandishing the first aid kit.

Vasquez can hear Supergirl over the comms.

“Keep back Ms Luthor, this could be dangero- oh okay, never mind.”

“Supergirl,” Vasquez asks calmly, burying the spark of fear deep down in their belly. “What’s she doing?”

“She says the lorry’s hers, it’s transporting a prototype.”

“Oh shit, that was today.”

“Um, yeah.”

Vasquez clears their throat. “Agent Danvers is en route, ETA one minute. Is the driver hurt?”

On their screen they can see Lena checking the guy over. He’s conscious, doesn’t seem to be hurt more than a few scrapes. Better safe than sorry though. “Take him to the hospital.”

J’onn’s asking what the prototype is, where Lena was taking it, probably what she ate for breakfast knowing him but Vas is busy checking every cam in a hundred meter radius, checking for danger as Lena makes her way over to the wreckage. She starts digging through the mess of twisted metal and burned canvas, and Vasquez can’t tell if she’s looking for the prototype or examining the alien vehicle.

They find a new angle just as Alex’s van screeches to a halt and roll their eyes when they catch Lena pocketing a bit of debris. Alex jumps out, Lucy not far behind. The both of them are in full tactical gear but Vasquez can’t make out a single threat in the area.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Alex asks, and Vas watches as she approaches Lena.

“Lorry’s hers,” they jump in. They decide not to mention the tech theft for now, it’ll only make things worse for Lena and Vasquez can easily confiscate it.

“Bring her in for questioning,” J’onn demands. He’s hovering behind Vasquez, which makes a change from his usual pacing but is still very uncomfortable when he’s ordering the arrest of their girlfriend.

J’onn stiffens behind them.

You can read minds, Vasquez thinks. I forgot.

“Do you know anything about this, Agent?”

“I knew she was taking a new piece of tech out of town for testing, and I know it’s harmless because I helped build it.”

“Do you know why anyone would want to destroy it?”

“It helps people and she’s a Luthor,” they snipe, not bothering to hide anything from J’onn.

J’onn clears his throat but doesn’t say anything. Vas knows they won’t have changed his mind at all, but they also know he respects and trusts them enough to hear Lena out.

Alex checks in and says she’ll be five minutes. Vasquez gets back to work. They dispatch a couple of agents to the hospital to watch the driver, organise a clean-up crew for the wreckage and a tow truck to pick up the alien vehicle. They know Lena’s machine will be brought back as evidence so they send Terry, who won’t manhandle and break the thing any more than it already has been. Vasquez sighs. Lena had worked so hard on that project, a machine that could plant, maintain and harvest crops all on its own. It could be cheaply and safely manufactured, easily built and disassembled by local workers, and what asshole in their right mind would want to deprive to world of that?

They’re distracted by Lena being escorted in the front door. Escorted being too strong a word maybe, given she was striding in way ahead of Alex and Lucy, head held high and wearing the most glorious resting bitch face Vasquez has ever seen her pull.

Vasquez gets out of their seat, hurrying behind J’onn to meet Lena in front of the computer bank. They must look worried because Lena shoots them a brief, comforting smile. When Vas got so attached to Lena they don’t know, but they care about her enough for it to show.

“Thank you for coming Ms Luthor,” J’onn starts. “We just need to ask you some questions.”

“It’s a harmless prototype I��m developing to help reduce widespread famine. I was escorting it to the desert to test the range of movement over a wide area. As you’ll see when you no doubt bring it in it’s perfectly safe. I don’t recognise the vehicle that crashed into the lorry, I didn’t see what happened, I am not in any way involved.”

“I…”

“Any more questions or do I need to call my lawyers?”

“She’s telling the truth,” Winn pipes up. He scurries over with a tablet, shows J’onn the data from the traffic cameras, the Ferrari’s on-board computer, probably Lena’s cell phone and email data too but they don’t want to tell her that. “There’s nothing to prove she has anything to do with the crash.”

J’onn clears his throat. “Thank you for your time, Ms Luthor.”

“I’m free to go?”

J’onn nods, and Lena turns on her heel and strides right back out the building. Vas can hear the Ferrari’s engine from where they’re standing, and they realise one of Alex or Lucy will have driven it back. The two of them are waiting by their computer when they turn around, expectant looks on their faces and arms crossed. They sigh, and motion in the direction of Alex’s lab.

“You’re dating Lena Luthor?”

“Did you not hear me the first time or…”

Alex is leaning against her desk, a look of shock on her face. Lucy’s pacing, scrambling for words and it’d be hilarious if Vasquez wasn’t so worried about Lena.

“Since when?” Alex asks.

“About four months now,” Vas replies. “We met at a bar.”

“Really? Not that exciting.” Lucy says.

Vas half-heartedly waggles their brows and Lucy sputters. “We’re so getting into this later Vasquez. But right now… how likely is she to do something stupid?”

“Remember that fundraiser?” Vasquez takes their phone out their pocket. Nothing from Lena, she knows they’ll be busy with the crash, knows she might even get a head start whilst they’re still working. Vas hits speed dial.

“Voicemail,” they grumble.

“Think you can talk her down?” Alex asks.

“I’ll go to her office.”

They start to make their way out of the lab, but Alex stops them. “You really care about her, huh?”

Vas nods. “I do.”

“We’ll do what we can to find out what happened and keep her safe,” Lucy promises.

“Thanks,” Vasquez says. They know it must be hard for them, hell they didn’t trust Lena at first either, but now her last name doesn’t mean shit to Vasquez except the fact it can get them both into fancy clubs and cosy little booths at expensive restaurants.

“Stay safe,” Alex calls as they rush out of the lab.

Vasquez chuckles to themself. Working so long at the DEO, fighting alongside superheroes every day, catching Winn trying to wipe his browsing history? Safe isn’t even in their vocabulary.

#supergirl #fic #vasquez #lena luthor #VasLena #nb!vasquez

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theaetherhealerffxiv · 5 years ago

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A Singular Moment

A FFXIV fanfiction - One shot

Pairing: Wol/wod x Emet-Selch

Rated: PG-17 [for safety]

WoL/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]

Word Count: 2206

Summary: You find yourself sick with your very first bout of Light: only to be found by Emet-Selch.

Rak’tika Greatwoods was shrouded in Light; the Lightwarden hiding somewhere within its depths. You though, where shivering under some random tree within the woods, far from your Scion companions. Something deep within your belly after ached, after absorbing the last Wardens Light you had felt something change. With a gasp you leaned heavily against the tree as pain blossomed like a sickly flower across your form. Twisting you dry heaved uselessly, clutching at your chest as the pain burned. Your hair kept falling in your view as you tried to expel whatever was making you ill. Suddenly cool gentle hands brushed your hair away and held it back for you as finally you threw up, a mixture of your lunch and bright liquid. Panting you felt the hands gently pull you back to set you against the tree.

“What a state you are in hero.” The condescending words of the Ascian man murmured like a holy prayer to your ringing ears. Still unable to conjure words he continued unbound from your remarks. “Tell, me,” He said holding your chin gently. “The reason behind this.” It was a command, not gentle question. Mustering all your strength you shrugged, your shoulders falling heavily. Emet-Selch was clearly not pleased with this response. As his face twisted in frustration, he opened his mouth clearly about to repeat his statement before you lifted your hand in defeat and mentioned to the Light above. Before letting your hand fall to the side.

“To much,” You croaked. “I will be fine soon.”

The Ascian scoffed, scooping you effortlessly up into his arms. You gasped, finding that he had one hand - gloveless- pressed against the back of your neck momentarily before getting a better grasp upon your form.

“So, the Light is affecting you.” Was the soft response.

You struggled feebly, “Release me Emet! I am fine now!” Looking at his stern frown you knew what words fell from your lips where useless pleas. He turned away with you, away from the settlement with your companions. Panic settling in your gut replacing the dull ache. “Emet!”

“Silence hero.” He hissed as a dark portal opened up before you two. “Take my good graces while they last and allow me to give you this moment of respite.” Stepping in the inky darkness it swirled around the two of you, blasting you specifically with icy air. It felt amazing to the heat lingering on your skin. Taking in a deep breath you felt the Light within you withdraw, the pain still lingering but the worst of it seemingly over. The darkness then faded away and you found yourself in a room littered with books and a messy bed. Large windows across from the bed showed a city that you could not recognize. Emet turned and strode swiftly over to the bed, laying you carefully down on it before sitting standing to roughly grab a chair that stood next to a large stack of books. He then sat it down and threw himself in it, reaching out with is ungloved hand to press it against your forehead.

You frowned. “Are you, checking my temperature?” A smirk played at your lips as his golden eyes glared at you. It quickly vanished as he flipped his hand over to touch your cheek and then pressed his hand against your neck, before pulling back.

“I was. Remember, that I too once walked the land in mortal form. I had to tend to ill children of my own. Even my spouse’s upon occasion had to deal with such ministrations.” All the teasing you had planned faded as the concern upon the Ascians face caused you to blush. Which he saw and raised his eyebrows clearly amused. “‘Tis not easy dealing with fussy children, but a fussy hero.” He teased softly.

You scoffed and shifted to sit up in the bed. “Regardless I am fine now.”

He shook his head. “Clearly, the fever upon your brow speaks differently.” You frowned.

“Emet, why are you tending to me. I am your enemy, a brief curiosity am I not?” You leaned forward as he watched you with careful, calculating eyes.

“Does it matter if you are?” The older man asked, sighing. “You could say the loves I took years ago where as such as well.” Reaching out a hand he brushed your hair back. “Yet here you stand once again.”

You blinked, surprised. “Excuse me?” Emet retracted his hand quickly and frowned as if surprised with himself as well. Then he sighed, clearly frustrated, now knowing he would have to explain.

“The color of your soul.” He waved his hand. “It is the same as my previous lovers.”

You balked. “Are you saying I am them?” The Ascian hummed, his intent clear: he was not going to give you a definite answer. You groaned and threw your hands up shaking your head. Then dropping them you held your head carefully. That would have made sense; the feelings of comfort when with him, even the strange lingering. Even with Haurchefant you did not feel such… attachment. Like a comfortable familiarity, you easily took Emet-selch’s aloof nature and comments with snarky responses of your own. Yes, that would make a lot of sense. But why?

“You are smarter than I take you for hero. Even if you are just an incomplete being. You sense it do you not?” Looking up you suddenly found yourself under the Ascian his eyes burning with a familiar glint. You found your breath taken from you under their golden glow. “You know me.” His head tilted, leaning down he was about to kiss you. Reacting quickly you raised your hands between your lips. Blocking him from completing the movement. Your own eyes wide with shock and your face flush with embarrassment. “Every time,” Emet groaned moving away swiftly. Then bringing his ungloved hand once again to your brow he frowned. “Still warm. Tell me hero does your vision swim?”

“After you did that!!” You grumbled, but rolling your eyes at his glare you closed them for a moment before staring at the ceiling. Yes, you could see it, a white light shimmered at the edges of your vision. It was very faint but there. “A little.” You conceded shifting to lay flat upon the bed, that at this point you could only guess was his.

“Explain to me what it looks like.” Emet stood and shuffled to a cabinet shifting through small glass bottles.

With a heavy sigh you obliged. “Like the Light that used to be in the sky around Lakeland, but brighter, more pure. Its is so faint within my vision though. Barely there.” You heard a scoff and once again the Ascian was at your side.

“They push all their hopes and dreams upon your shoulders without a second thought for your safety.” He had a cup in one hand and a variety of bottles in the other. Setting the glass between his knees you watched as he mixed the various liquids. “You are the hero after all.” Pausing he looked at you, your own eyes darting up to his. “Do you not have dreams of your own?”

You frowned. “Do you? Or is it all Zodiarks?”

Emet glared. “Ah, so should I rephrase my question? As you wish, do you have dreams of your own, and not that of Hydaelyn?”

“I am not tempered by Hydaelyn!” You snapped back, shifting to sit up and stare at him with venom. He glared back, angry, frustrated. You looked away, once again condeding. “Yes, even if I am tempered I do have dreams of my own.” A strained laugh came from your lips as you pulled your knees to your chest tilting your head away from Emet. “At this point, I truly doubt that I will ever get to experience them. I am sure I will die upon the battlefield for the masses.” Pressing a hand to your forehead you peeked over at the Ascian beside you. “After all that is what a hero does, no?”

“What are they.” Emet demanded as he set the glass bottles on a stack of books beside them, swirling the cup to clearly mix the liquid inside of it.

You frowned. “Why do you care?”

“Why would I not?” He asked handing out the drink to you. “Before you tell me that you will not drink it, all it will do is ease the aches and fever. It will not be able to balance your aether.”

Reaching out you sighed. “Well, course, nothing can do that.” You murmured taking the cool glass cup you sniffed the medicine and winced; it smelled bitter. Beside you Emet laughed, and you glared at him, but he waved it off and clearly urged you to drink it and answer his question. Sipping it you groaned and held it in your lap sighing. “Right, my dreams.” Tilting your head you looked at Emet-Selch with a gentle smile. “To live a quiet life and marry. Maybe have a few children of my own, live off in the woods, or near a beach. Away from the masses where I can be… myself.” You sighed taking another sip. As the liquid slid down your throat you felt the pain in your belly began to cease and your body seemed to be returning to normal.

With a gentle hum you saw Emet stand and laungly wave his hand at you indicating that you scoot over. Obliging the Ascian you watched curiously as he sat down next to you in the bed. Draping an arm over your shoulder he gently pushed your head into the fluffy fur of his coat. “A gentle dream for a gentle fragmented soul.” Pressing a kiss to the top of your head he sighed. “If we had met under more, favorable circumstances, I would have courted you properly. Doing everything within my power to allow that dream of your to pass.” He kissed you again sighing.

“Why?” You murmured into his collar.

“You know me.” He muttered again.

“I dont.” You answered trying to shift to look at him, but he kept his lips on your head. Making you feel like you could not move.

“You do, but you do not wish to admit it.” Emet whispered, placing a hand on yours that still held the cup. “Finish the medicine and I shall return you to your companions.”

Sitting up you brought the cup to your lips again: a feeling of sadness washing over you. You doubted the two of you would be this open with each other again. Or that you would have a chance. You paused, then chugged the rest of the liquid coughing. A chuckle waifed from the man beside you.

“Dont laugh,” You coughed. Emet shifted you and gently patted your back to help the coughing fit pass. “Thank you.”

Getting up off the bed the Ascian shrugged. “While I graciously accept your thanks at this time such things are not truly needed. I was just acting upon a whim of nostalgia in helping you.”

“Because of my soul?” You asked watching him as he snatched the cup from you bringing it to a sink that you had not seen before. Carefully observing his back you saw his shoulders drooping more than usual as if he did not want this moment to end.

“Perhaps.” He said, turning back around you found yourself face to face with the regular Emet-Selch. His face covered with a smirk. “Are you ready to return?” Holding out his hand you hesitated.

“We won't have a moment like this again will we?” You asked, your voice a breathy whisper.

“You know me, hero. I do not need to answer that.” Emet reached out taking your hand and giving it a kiss before smiling again at you. You smile back.

“You are right. I do know you.” Tilting your head you felt a warmth from the very corner of your being spread across your form. You did know him; you have known him for a long time. You cannot remember any of it, but at this point it did not matter. The brief shock on his face was reward enough for accepting the once foreign emotions. Gripping his hand you brought yourself to a standing position. “Shall we?”

Suddenly forlorn Emet stared at you seriously. “I did not tell you if I had dreams did I?”

You blinked. “No, you did not -”

The darkness surrounded the two of you bringing you from his room to the tree you had been ill by likely hours before. The Light still shone bright in the sky as you stood in wonder watching Emet step forward still holding your hand with his ungloved one. “You,” He whispered leaning forward pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “You are my dream.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the woods. Out in the distance you heard the calls of familiar voices of the Scions. Shifting you tried to push the thoughts away but the burning of your lips reminded you of the kiss, his voice echoing in his mind.

Above all of Zodiark’s will, above the pain of losing his home; you where his dream.

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