#i am just lamenting ANOTHER added step to what’s expected of women

[causeimasinger]

i love makeup and i love watching videos of people putting makeup on and then being annoyed when it doesn’t work for me bc my hands are too shaky it’s a whole thing but i have seen an uptake in NOSE contouring. our cheeks and foreheads and jawline weren’t enough??? now we have to give ourselves a daily nose job too??? hashtag i only wear concealer under my eyes and blush and contour my jaw and do a little swipe of highlighter and feel like im Full Face Of Makeup like yall are too wild for me

[old-hyper-super-clover]

Squeeze that bunny tail!

Part 1

Description: The RAD student council as well as the exchange students help out at a bar where, oops, the staff´s dress codes are those sweet bunny outfits that we all know and thirst for. The MCs, Violet and Clover, play a game of who can touch the most bunny tails over the evening without getting caught. Prepare for fluff, funny innuendos as well as my thirst over hot boys in bunny outfits.

The story is divided in several parts and will be updated every few days.

*I wrote this when the bunny UR+ cards first came out so there will be differences to the second event & their outfits

Story begins below the cut, have fun!

One fateful day, Diavolo had called his best friend Lucifer over to discuss a very urgent, utterly important matter...

"... A bar?" Lucifer repeated the prince's words.

"Yes!" Diavolo cheered.

"... And you want us to work there?"

"Yeah!"

"... Not only my brothers and me, but also all of the exchange students as well?"

"Strong yes! Barbatos and I will join, too."

"What? Are you sure? Should the prince of the Devildom really lower himself to such frivolous tasks?"

"Come on, Lucifer, it will be fun!"

Lucifer pressed out a deep sigh.

"... For you, perhaps... For me, it will be nothing but another day of babysitting a bunch of idiots..."

----------------

When the group arrived in the newly opened but already renowned bar, lots of them gave amazed gasps.

"It's huge!" Clover called out.

"And real fancy, too..." Mammon said, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

Belphie noticed how his brother was already searching for the most expensive decoration and gave an annoyed sigh. "Mammon's having idiot thoughts again..."

"All of you" Lucifer called out to the demons and humans living in the House of Lamentation. "I expect great manner from all of you. Lord Diavolo kindly asked us to help out with the grand opening of his acquaintance's bar. As it is the first day the place is opened to the general public, the owners asked him to offer help, and here we are. I would like to say that every item that gets broken or gets STOLEN", he shot Mammon an obvious glare, "will be repaid out of your own wallet. Furthermore, I am making you aware that..."

He kept talking for an unknown (but awfully long) amount of time, until Diavolo would pull him out of his ranting.

"Lucifer, relax! This is a laid-back place, I am sure everyone will do just fine. After all, we also have our kind Angel and Human friends to help."

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow.

"Is Luke allowed to be here, though? It's an adult place, after all..."

"Wha-?!" Some angry Chihuahua noises escaped Luke´s mouth. "I'm not a child, you know! Of course I am allowed to work here, show some respect!"

Simeon next to him gave the small blond a pat on his head while trying to bring the conversation back on track.

"Thank you for inviting us, Diavolo. Shall we get started, then? We don't have much time left until the first customers arrive."

They got shown around the whole place.

It consisted of two floors to sit in or play all sorts of bar games, a dance hall and a giant kitchen, serving all sorts of treats to go along with the (mostly alcoholic) beverages to buy from one of the even more impressive bars.

"The place looks pretty tame, though" Asmo pointed out as they had finished the tour.

"You think?!" Violet blinked at him. "I think it's amazing..."

"Asmo..." Satan mumbled. "I am pretty sure the places where you are a regular at are simply a little... special."

Completely ignoring the implications in Satan´s words, Asmodeus went on to ask the owner about whether they had what he called "fun rooms", which, yes, are just what you think they are.

They had to drag him back so they could finally be introduced to their work schedule.

"The bar is opened until four in the morning" Barbatos explained. "We will be working in shifts to maintain our stamina..."

Slowly, everything important had been settled, and the first bunch was about to start their shift.

But...

Well...

All this was a happening planned with the mind of Sir Diavolo himself...

So of course it wouldn't end up being a normal evening. It never did.

Just as the group wanted to leave the kitchen-strategy-meeting, Diavolo called out to them.

"Behold!" he prompted. "Are you planning to go out looking like THIS?"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, already alert at the smirk on his friend's face. "Oh no..."

Barbatos, who had shortly excused himself after explaining everything, entered the kitchen, now holding a piece of clothing in his hands.

"The waiters and waitresses at this pub are required a special working garment", Barbatos explained. "We have prepared suiting clothes in your respective sizes already."

"Cl...othes?" Violet dared to ask.

"Yes!" Diavolo beamed her a smile. "And after midnight, you change clothes once again. Those are a surprise, however, so you will have to be patient until then."

Solomon gave a contemplative hum.

"And... What are those garments, exactly?"

-------------

"... Violet?"

"... Clover?"

"... Do you have bunny ears in your outfit set, too?"

"... Yeah."

Silence.

They stepped out of the women's toilet stalls, mustering each other.

A frilly short skirt, a pretty blouse, a cute bow tie, and two bunny ears as well as a matching bunny tail.

"... Looks pretty good, though" Clover mumbled. "A little embarrassing, but oh well..."

They checked their outfits for a little longer in the mirror, adjusting their clothes...

"To think they'd make us wear stuff like this", Violet said.

"Yeah... Like, are we supposed to serve customers like this? And look all weird, just the two of us?" Clover played around with her new pair of ears.

"Dunno..." Violet breathed as she checked her make up. “I bet the boys will think we look…” she stopped.

Realisation hit them.

"Violet."

"Clover."

They dashed out of the bathroom.

And opening the door, they saw...

Bunny boys.

Ten of them, right there, in those... With those... Looking so…

Violet suppressed a squeal while Clover was hiding a heavy blush.

But there was no time to recover from this critical hit.

Already having spotted them, Asmodeus was bouncing towards them, his frilly, pretty revealing blouse swaying around his curves.

"Waah, you girls are bunnies, too~!"

He began to inspect them thoroughly, also pulling the attention of the other males towards them.

But with all the damn nice snacks around, the girls had troubles focussing on only Asmo as he continued to squeal something.

"Whyyyy do we have to do thiiiisss..." Levi groaned, visibly uncomfortable in his butler bunny suit.

Lucifer (very stunning view btw, chef's kiss) crossed his arms in a sigh.

"You heard Lord Diavolo... It seems to be common practice in this local to dress like this... But I'm starting to regret agreeing to help out..."

A hand gently placed on Lucifer's shoulder.

"Oh, come on, Lucy" Simeon smiled, brown bunny ears reaching out of his hair. "I think this suits you very well. You look cute."

This only pulled a greater sigh out the demon's throat, but he wasn't allowed to keep this frown any longer, as Diavolo and Barbatos joined the group soon after.

To the group's surprise, both of them were in similar suits as well.

"Wow, all of you look stunning!" Diavolo wore a big grin. "I knew it was a great idea to suggest a dress code!"

"That was your idea?!" Luke pouted, having whatever trouble with his costume (which btw was designed to be distinctively less... sexy than all of the other suits, don´t worry about the angel child). His floppy rabbit ears looked adorable, but it only added to the impression that he shouldn't be here, serving alcohol for the next hours...

"Of course", Diavolo cheered. "They say good-looking staff makes more profit, and I want this evening to be a success."

-------------------

"I heard the place was designed to imitate a classic bar from the human world."

Initiating a conversation, Satan was preparing glasses at the bar together with Violet, Clover and a few of his brothers.

"Is it normal for the staff to look like this in the human world?" he asked, quite amused to watch the girls' bunny ears bounce with their movements. "Not that I'm complaining... I just figured you must know."

"... You´re asking US? Do we look like we party a lot?" Clover mumbled.

Violet gave a shrug. "It's kind of a... Classic costume to go with, but I don't think it's really that common with humans, too."

The demon gave a nod, then excused himself as Levi was calling for him on the other side of the bar.

And now that the girls had some time for themselves again, they could finally let out their inner fangirls.

Basically just giving weird noises, exchanging a few completely out of context words that only two minds speaking the same language of stupid could understand, they gushed about all the males surrounding them.

"Clover oh my god I-" Violet whispered in a gasp. "I love the tails."

"And the ears" Clover agreed.

"And the vests."

"The bow ties."

"But the fluffly TAiLs oh myyy..."

"Lolll I bet you wanna squish them-"

"YEEssssSSSSS..."

Afraid someone might notice, they tried calming down. But as if the universe was trying to keep them agitated, Beel happened to pass by, stopping next to them to organise the bottles in the display shelves behind them.

The girls turned, mustering the male...

Suddenly, Violet's expression curled into a sly grin, thinking of the huge crush Clover had on Beelzebub. She leaned in on Clover to whisper in her ear.

"Squeeze his tail..."

Clover's eyes widened as she started to blush.

"What?! No..." she whispered back.

"I know you want to~", Violet continued to purr in amusement.

"Sh-shut up...!" Clover grumbled.

"Come ooon..."

"Y-you do it if you're so tough...!", Clover pouted.

Her friend only gave a shrug, stepping closer to the demon as she nonchalantly reached for the bunny tail attached to his pants.

Of course, Beel noticed her presence.

"Violet?" he blinked in surprise, but apparently did not register how Violet pulled her arm back immediately.

She shot him a smile.

"Hey, Beel, could you... hand me that bottle in the upper shelf? Asmo said he needed it over there."

"Sure."

And as the male reached for the bottle, Violet took the chance to squeeze that fluffy pompom.

"Thanks" she cheered, then went to grab Clover to disappear from the scene of crime.

Violet couldn't quite wipe the victorious grin off her face.

Clover on the other hand...

"I hate everything", she pouted.

"You should have just went for it" Violet laughed. "It's like this game we used to play in the human world when everyone is wearing hats with pompoms during winter. Just that here, it’s a bunny tail that you had to squish.”

"But..." Clover sulked, like always sad that she wasn´t brave enough to do what Violet asked her to do.

So Violet mustered her friend...

Then, an idea hit her.

"You know what, actually?" Violet said. "I dare you to squish a tail."

Clover made a weird sound.

"What?! Nooo... You know I'm awkward..."

"And let's make it a game!"

"... Are you even listening to me?"

Apparently, she wasn´t.

"Whoever manages to squeeze the most bunny tails wins -- without the person noticing, of course." Violet was grinning from ear to ear.

Clover gave a big sigh.

"... The tails from either of the boys?" She finally gave in.

"Yeah, let's."

"... Would you voluntarily go up to your crush Lucifer and risk your life?"

Violet's face turned into a conflicted blush.

"I..." she mumbled in an unconvincing shrug. "Maybe...?"

"They should have different difficulty levels", Clover suggested. "Giving different amounts of points,, depending on how difficult we consider the squeeze-ability of a tail."

----------

Don't ask how or why... (And how they found the time to come up with this madness)

But in the end, the two girls had invented a game to keep them entertained for the next couple of hours.

They came up with a plan for the "bunny tail squeeze point distribution":

1 point: Beel, Belphie, Simeon, Levi (+), Asmo (+)

2 points: Mammon, Satan (+), Barbatos, Luke (V)

3 points: Lucifer, Solomon, Diavolo, Luke (C)

"The plus stands for a potential to increase in points, as those three are a little difficult to analyse. We'll count it depending on the situation and their wariness..." Clover concluded as she showed Violet the notes she had taken on a beer coaster. "And Luke's on there twice because I'm a fucking giraffe and get a bonus point if I can reach that Chihuahua’s tail. And thaaat... Would be all."

Violet squealed in excitement.

"Great, then let's go!"

Clover gave a last sigh, knowing what difficulties she'd have with this.

"This is SO going to end in some disaster..."

[sahbibabe]

The Fiction of Love

The Fiction of Love

Soulmate AU: Where whatever your soulmate writes on their skin appears on yours.

Genesis Rhapsodos/Fem! Reader

In which you finally meet the source of the daily recitations of Loveless on your arm: Genesis Rhapsodos.

IT STARTED LIKE everyone else's soulmate experience─the writing appeared one day, out of the blue, on the skin of your forearm like a tattoo. They were always quick to fade, the magical ink devoured by your body's immune system, but they lingered long enough for you to notice them.

And, weirdly enough, the first words your soulmate wrote to you were the words of a poem. Whoever they were, they wrote in an amazingly talented hand, the calligraphy putting your awful, cramped words to absolute shame.

'Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,' they wrote on your arm that morning,'we seek it thus, and take to the skies.'

From then on, every day since then, you would be sure to find phrases of that poem written somewhere on your body. On your arms, forearms, hands, knees, legs, but the most common was always the inside of your wrist, written there as if it was some secret, some thrilling note that you could look at when no one was around.

You hated it.

Unlike the rest of the women in your office building, you despised that poem─and the play─with every fiber of your being. It was one thing to hear it every day at work, brought on by the cooing assistants who fawned over the main male leads of the play and lusted for their numbers. But to be hounded by it even as you relaxed at home, unable to forget those damned words because they appeared on your skin almost every hour on the dot?

It was ridiculous.

Your spite had extended to your replies to your soulmate, so much so that you never replied at all once your hatred took hold of you. It had been nearly two months since you had stopped, six months since they had started to begin with, and yet your soulmate soldiered on, leaving the little phrases for you to find─in obvious spots, none of them ever inappropriate─and going on with whatever they did for a living.

It had to have been something time and attention consuming, because the one time you wrote back, drunk during mid-day, you didn't get a reply until well after twelve in the morning. You had just wrote, pretty awfully,'Why Loveless?' and passed out on the couch, dead to the world.

You woke up right in the middle of the reply appearing on your skin as they wrote it, the curls of their handwriting fascinating as every whorl and slash bloomed upon your arm like wicked black flowers.

'Why not Loveless?' They had replied.

Needless to say, the irritation had rose up as you had expected it to, and you pulled a hoodie on for the rest of the night to hide your arms from your line of sight. If you would have pulled up your sleeve just a bit then, you would have caught the extended reply that they added on to it.

'I'm just joking. Why Loveless? Because it is a truth; it is deliverance. It is a meaning.'

Unfortunately for you, the ink had been devoured long ago and replaced with another Loveless stanza, this one a little bit longer than the others they had written for you… and not at all part of the official poem.

'Even if the morrow is barren of promises

Nothing shall forestall my return

To become the dew that quenches the land

To spare the sands, the seas, the skies

I offer thee this silent sacrifice.'

It was then, staring at your arm as you stood in front of your office copier, the glow of the mako reactor shining upon your skin, that you realized this poem was much more than a means to annoy you. This was their passion, their joy, their hobby, all wrapped into one poem.

You made a decision then.

You booked the tickets, the priciest seats you could afford, rented out a modest but elegant dress for the evening, and made a reservation at a nice restaurant just across the street from the theater, even more pricey than the tickets.

'Theater #2, front steps, 8:30 P.M. Dress nice. Don't be late.'

That reply had been instantaneous.

'I wouldn't dream of it.'

The date set and your dress hanging comfortably in your closet, you began wondering what your soulmate looked like. Could you pick them out of a crowd? Or were they plain and unassuming, able to blend in easily, like camouflage?

You asked them, just to be sure.

'What do you look like?'

'Let's leave that as a mystery. I'm sure I'll be able to find you.'

Stumped, you stared at your arm with wide eyes, before scratching through your question and doodling a smiley face with the tongue sticking out of the side.

'Not if I find you first.'

'I look forward to the challenge.'

By the time the date rolled around and you were dressed and waiting by the steps of the theater, you were so nervous you could throw up. You were a little early and tried to settle your nerves with a small can of soda, but all that succeeded in doing was making the butterflies worse. You were lucky they had even agreed to the meeting in the first place; some people just never got that chance. And that didn't guarantee you would even get along, did it?

After a few minutes of failing to calm yourself down, you got on your phone and scrolled through the new ShinRa announcements, eager to take your mind off of the wrecking ball going off in your stomach. It only helped a little bit.

And then, something odd happened; like the proverbial red sea, people parted for someone walking through the crowd at a leisurely pace, except the 'red' was a man, and not a sea at all. Just from your distance, he was gorgeous, with russet red hair and mako green eyes that sparkled under the fluorescent lights.

Whoever got him as a soulmate had earned the jackpot, you thought wordlessly to yourself, watching as the crowd continued to part for him. Really, really lucky.

Then you realized, belatedly, like a sucker punch to the gut, that he was headed your way, those insanely green eyes trained on you with the focus of a predator. It was suddenly very hard to breathe, your lungs constricting at the disbelief in your mind, your phone very heavy in your hand.

There was no absolute way in hell--

"I told you I'd find you," he said with a smooth grin. His voice was like honey, rich and smooth with all of the right cadence, and sat right in your stomach like molten gold. You swore if you weren't so awe struck that you would have teetered back and fainted right then and there. "I win."

"I guess so," you replied faintly, barely a whisper. He seemed to acknowledge the effect he had on you because his eyes crinkled up just the slightest with a smirk that made you want to, quite literally, rip off that red leather jacket he wore and show him who was boss. "I'm [Name]."

"Genesis." You watched the emerald earring he had in his ear dangle and catch the lights, adding to his features spectacularly. "Are you ready to go inside?"

You had to stop yourself from sounding too eager. Your plans had went from having a nice time at a play, to dinner, and parting your separate ways and straight to watching a play, having dinner, and hopefully taking him back home with you if he was willing. "Yes, please."

Genesis smiled and tucked your hand into his elbow, like a gentleman--you could feel your face growing as hot as coals--and escorted you up the stairs, careful not to let you trip and fall. As you walked with him to the stands to give the doorman your tickets, you noticed that he didn't exactly walk with the awkwardness of a normal person. His gait was smooth, fluid, elegant and refined, as if someone had drilled him to always be light on his feet. Add that to the sword you could feel at his side and the beautiful green eyes, and you knew you had a SOLDIER for a soulmate.

"You're a SOLDIER?" You asked quietly as you entered the quiet zone of the play stage.

He chuckled lightly. "What gave it away?"

"Let's see… Other than the sword and the way you carry yourself?" You teased, stomach jolting when he moved his hand to the small of your back to urge you towards your seat. "Your eyes. I've never seen such a concentrated color before."

"Yes, the tell tale sign of mako energy," he lamented, if only to earn a laugh out of you. "But yes, I am a First Class SOLDIER."

Your head turned so quickly that you were sure your neck would have snapped. "First Class? And you're here with me, not on some elite mission?"

"Of course." He blinked, tilted his head, and furrowed his eyebrows as if he was the one who should be confused. "Why would I turn down the chance to see Loveless with a goddess such as yourself?"

Oh, you felt the heat now, curling down your spine like a snake and he the charmer. It should have been cheesy, given the situation and his love for a poem mentioning such a goddess, but for some reason, it wasn't, and it made goofy feelings rise in your chest, along with understanding.

It was more than just a poem.

He grinned when you brought your pamphlet up to fan yourself, leaning back in your chair and mumbling,"Let's just watch the play, okay?"

Genesis was, thankfully, tame during the entire thing. He was just as absorbed into it as you were, those pretty green eyes taking in the play actors with relish, and absentmindedly stroking his leather clad thumb over your knuckles as if it was natural to him.

When the play was over, the actors gave out cute silk flowers as a souvenir, thanking everyone for their attendance and citing their next performance as sometime next week.

Dinner, you came to find out, was fair game for Genesis.

Not only did he pull some strings behind your back to pay for it himself, he also switched your reserved table to the most secluded one in the entire building: the Elite floor where only people like Rufus Shinra dined and held their meetings and drank fine wine.

There were only three other tables on the floor, each one hosting a couple, and the room was dark, barely lit by glowing red lanterns as a centerpiece. Clearly it was a popular spot to be wooed.

You caught envious stares from the waitresses, a few offering you winks and a thumb's up, as you made your way up the stairs, Genesis behind you and making sure you didn't fall. You half guessed he was also in it for the view as well.

When you were seated and left to order your food, Genesis spoke up.

"So, you know what I do for a living, but you have yet to tell me anything about yourself." He propped open his menu and looked over it to you.

"Well… There isn't much to say." You shrugged and focused on trying to undo the straps of your heels with your feet, feeling your toes ache with the added height. "I'm a bit boring compared to you."

"I digress," he hummed,"but go on."

"I work in an office building for twelve hours a day," you deadpanned, much to his amusement. "It's boring."

"Allow me."

Confused, you opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but all of the breath left your lungs once again when his fingers wrapped around your ankle and unbuckled the straps to your heels with nimble fingers. He took his time, sliding his palm up your leg to take a hold of your calf as he removed the shoe from your foot.

Relieved from the pressure of your shoes, you let out a pleased sigh, but when you looked back across the table at him, those green eyes were glittering dangerously, trained on your face for a solitary second before getting to work on the other shoe.

You couldn't help the sudden heat rising in your belly. That look alone had made you tingle.

Before he could open his mouth and say something that would probably make you forego dinner plans entirely and drag him back to your house, the waitress came back, sheepish, and took your orders.

When you finished ordering--a salmon filet drizzled with soy sauce and wine--Genesis was busy studying you, watching you toy with the strap of your dress nervously.

Unfortunately, he never did make any more moves on you for the rest of dinner, but your stomach was glad for that because every time he looked at you even slightly, you would feel food get lodged in your throat.

You spoke well into the morning hours, getting tipsy enough that Genesis had to carry you all the way back to your apartment because the cabs weren't running that late. He was amused, if anything, and laughed whenever tried to come on to him, slurring sweet promises in his ear.

Every time, he would say,"Perhaps later when you're not so drunk."

"If not now, when?" You whined pathetically, leaning against your door as he picked the lock, unwilling to take the plunge down your bra to retrieve the keys.

"Soon," he said, his voice full of dark promise, enough that your alcohol addled mind could make out the desire in his voice like an arrow to the heart. "Soon."

He left you with just that promise, vanishing down the hall and into the night.

You remembered the look on his face, the tone of his voice, even when you woke up, and took maybe five seconds before you were yanking a pen out of your nightstand and writing on your arm.

'Now?"

A few seconds passed, then three minutes. And there it was, written in his elegant penmanship: your answer.

'3:40 P.M. Don't be late.'

[oceanlass]

Drabble ; Mikeala’s Deal with Calypso.

It had taken time to get here, deep into the murky waters of the swamp and alone with the corpse of her former Captain. It felt eerily disturbing how no one questioned her, if anything, the gatekeeper (an old man with eyes that have clearly seen too much in his time) merely motioned her with his cane. “She be expecting you.”

She’d heard stories in her childhood, what she had engrained into her memory and refused to forget. Her mother had spoken to her before about Calypso, of the myth that they were akin to Calypso’s granddaughters, of sorts. How the goddess had felt taken with one of the men as he sailed and had spent a time favoring him until she bore him a child—a daughter. Now they’re family consisted more of women then men—and most of the women born in the Faheem lineage carried a gift of the sea. Some stronger or weaker then others.

Mikeala’s mother had a gift for sensing bad storms and at times even knowing when danger lied ahead. It was how she had ensured Mikeala’s escape and safety when they lost their home—and yet, for her gifts, she was still murdered. Mikeala shook her head gently, her loose hair spilling over her shoulders as she pushed away the haunted memories of her past.

She was here for a different reason. She glanced at the burden she shared the boat with, steering it with care as he remained unmoving. She kept him covered, wrapped as well as she could manage with pale sheets and—to remember him better with the dignity he carried alive instead of dead.

It was a hard word to wrap her head around after all she’d been through as his first mate. The shock on his face that mirrored her own when the bullet passed into his chest, and at last he felt.. and bled. She hadn’t wept, too shocked to really cry and too pained to let the tears fall. He’d looked so pale…

The sound of wood creaking drew her attention back to the approaching dock, where a woman in a dark dress and shawl stood expectantly with two tribal men—locals she suspected. Mikeala felt herself still when she met the woman’s dark gaze, her heart suddenly jolting in her chest and hammering loudly in her ears. She felt a strange pull to the woman, and swore when the woman’s mouth curved into a smile that she knew who Mikeala was at once. Maybe she did.

She climbed and secured the boat out of habit, and watched wordlessly as the two men worked and lifted her corpse—bringing it inside the shabby hut then leaving. Tia Dalma waited by the entrance, waving a hand expectantly towards her. “After you child.” Swallowing down her nervousness, Mikeala guided her boots up the step, straightening her back slightly as she stepped inside.

“I had heard of Barbossa’s death, but I cannae say I was ready for his corpse to be delivered tae my door.” Her grin was all too knowing, her steps eerily light as she moved around Mikeala. Those dark eyes watching her every step. “To think one of my kin, would come out of hiding tae see me.” She giggled, resting her hip against her wooden table. “A child with tae blood of my blood.”

“You..” Mikeala had to wet her dry lips, feeling herself rooted in place. “You know me?” Tia’s dark mouth curved upward, her lashes low and veiling her dark eyes briefly. “I sense it—-She feels it too, don’t she?”

Yes, she did. There was something about the enigma of a woman behind her, goddess, witch—whatever names she went by—she pulled at something that hummed in Mikeala’s veins. It felt as if she’d found something lost and precious, and yet her instincts were still screaming at her to be cautious. Instincts that have kept her alive still.

Tia’s black gaze looked over Mikeala’s form thoughtfully, taking in her battered clothing and features. “Why bring me Barbossa?” As if she didn’t know—no, this was how she was, Mikeala realized. She wanted to hear it straight out of her own mouth. She swallowed and felt her fist clench then unclench. “To bring him back..”

”Why?”

Mikeala hesitated again, feeling her stomach roil nervously. She lowered her gaze. “Because he was my captain—and should have had a better death then the one he was cheated.” Just as the curse was broken—-he died. She knew, at least now as she thought back on it—Jack had not taken any grim satisfaction in killing his former first mate… However, they’re rivalry was something built upon years of betrayals and battles and simply.. being pirates. If Barbossa and Jack chose to kill each other again afterwards, by all means they could—so long as the fight was honorable between the two men.

“Donnae lie to me child.”

The words were ominous, and Mikaela held her ground as her head jerked up, Tia Dalma—no, Calypso, circled her like a predatory shadow. “I can sense the call of the sea in yer blood.” She grins, bearing her teeth. “It be a song that hum’s in her blood, hm?” Her hands settle on Mikaela’s shoulders, warm and light—yet she feels herself suppressing a disturbing chill that raced down her spine. The hairs on her neck and arms rose when Calypso breathed by her ear, the scent of sea salt and brime dizzying. “Aye, I can sense you be another daughter of tae sea—Kin of my kin an’ blood from long ago.” She moves slowly, until she’s face to face with Mikaela, Calypso’s hands cupping her face.

“But like me, her heart was taken by one who loves the sea an’ woman hm?” There’s a knowing look, a shadow of sorrow that comes and goes as quickly as it came. An understanding that flickered within the depths of her dark eyes. It startled Mikeala, causing her eyes to widen slightly. She felt Calypso’s finger sweep back her hair, toying with one of her thinly woven braids. “You knoa there be a price for this.”

She nodded, swallowing thickly. Mikeala had heard the stories—and as she brought his corpse with her (it hadn’t felt right, seeing him unmoving and without life—she kept him covered with a blanket out of respect). Her heart had felt heavy since his death, no—Murder by the hands of Jack. She couldn’t re-join the pearl’s crew, didn’t want to even think of it. She’d told him before, I’m your first mate. and had meant it. Never let it be said she wasn’t a woman of her word.

“What be your price, jidda?” She asked, lowering her head. She wasn’t sure what she could give but didn’t care. Calypso raised her chin lightly, holding her gaze just as her hand drifted down, hovering over her chest— “Her heart.” She said, the tip of her fingers skimming over the skin beneath her collarbone.

“All tae love you burned and carried—no more.” Mikeala’s eyes widened. “I.. It’s not like that—I respect him and served as his first—“ Calypso’s hand rose up, stopping her rambling and for a moment Mikaela thought she imagined a look of brief pity on her face. “You cannae deny how yer heart burns and aches no? Like a snake be squeezin’ at your chest when you remember his dying hm?”

Mikeala recoiled, taking a step back. Calypso clicked her tongue, shaking her mess of dark hair. “You heart burns for dis man—what I ask in price is a gift tae my kin. Donnae let her heart be taken by he—Men of the sea betray us all in the end.” In a lower voice, she added, “No matter how she loves deeply. It be their nature.”

“…Can you really do it?” Calypso tilted her head, dark eyes narrowing. “I am a ‘oman of my word. I be need’n his revival, but price must be paid.” Mikeala hesitated, raising her hand for a moment. “…After your done with him though, you let him go free.. Promise?” Her great aunt sighed, nose crinkling before she closed her hand over Mikeala’s. “Word promised child.”

A strange sensation washed over her, something that made her heart both ache and seize as she gasped and fell to her knees. Calypso did not release her hand yet, watching her thoughtfully. “The price is accepted.” She released her and turned, Mikeala grasped her chest. She looked at her chest, seeing a dark tattoo manifest over her heart; a tribal clock. “When the clock finishes its lap, it shall no longer burn for the Captain of the Pearl.”

Mikeala watched in growing horror as Calypso disappeared to the back of the hut, no doubt preparing to revive barbossa. She closed her eyes, keeping her head bowed as she felt her eyes stinging. All the times she’d felt too stubborn to give this feeling a name, this pain and ache that lingered in her chest.

”…I’m… such an idiot.” She lamented, pressing the heel of her palm against her eyes, feeling a tear roll down her cheek. “Sorry.. Hector..” This would be her burden… Her curse in exchange for his freedom.

[nocturne-inuyasha-ff]

Chapter Nine: Wicked Game

Some pronunciations for the new characters' names:

Tsering Dawa is pronounced = TSEH-ring DAH-wha (Longevity Moon)

Keyuri is pronounced = KEY-uri (Flower)

Fan Tsenpo = FAHN TSEHN-po (Lethal King)

____________________________________________

Nocturne - Chapter Nine: Wicked Game

Rated - M (for suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, and coarse language)

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or the pics below. 

Sesshomaru turned quickly to find his intended, Tsering, approaching. Her golden coronet barely made a noise while she stepped forward, holding a hand to her face in mock surprise. Her red robe followed her on the ground as she strode forward, and she adjusted her fur shrug up around her shoulders. Tsering looked every bit of the regal inu-yokai she was.

She looked around at the assembled group, reading the situation by the exhausted, drained, but joyous expressions before her. Her ageless golden eyes twinkled with delight, and a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

"What a fitting gift, beloved. My other hanyo perished on our journey, and I had hoped to replace him soon," Tsering commented. She stepped closer to try and peer down at the infant.

The miko turned reflexively, guarding her child from view and pulling the red suikan over its face. Her companions both shot up, their surprise forgotten and moved to step in front and block the pair from the interloper.

"I don't know who the fuck you are, but back off, bitch!" Inuyasha warned threateningly. He tensed his claws in front of him and snarled. Inuyasha threw Sesshomaru a dark glare, directing blame to the person he thought responsible for this mess. To say he was wrong would not be completely inaccurate.

The taijiya also brought her bone boomerang to the ready, adding, "Come any closer, demon-bitch, and I will show you how we treat hostile yokai!"

Sesshomaru flashed his own dark look at his brother and urged his ilk not to rise before turning to address Tsering. She had a smug look on her face, amused from the rise she was getting out of the pair.

"How presumptuous of you," Tsering declared, her eyes flashing menacingly, "to speak to Tsering that way." Her head turned to look at Sesshomaru from the corner of her eyes, ensuring his eyes were on her as she admonished the pair. "It is fortunate for you that I am feeling in a generous mood; otherwise, I would punish you. I am not accustomed to mere mortals nor hanyo alike, addressing me in such a manner. However, I shall forget this transgression the one time."

"Tsering Dawa, you have left the grounds of the palace unescorted?" Sesshomaru inquired mildly. His attempt to redirect the conversation had not gone undetected, and Tsering merely raised an eyebrow.

"I grew tired of the confinement. Keyuri is not much for company, lord," she lamented. She strode down an invisible line, taking short steps but not drawing any closer to her quarry. "One such as myself shan't be expected to sit idly while his lordship frolics with mortals, having all the fun," Tsering added.

"You ain't no god, bitch!" Inuyasha barked and received an irksome glance in response.

Tsering ran her hand up and down her fur shrug. "Is that so?" she replied condescendingly. "You are nothing but a puppy to me, hanyo, and your human 'friends'," she sneered at the word, "are nothing more than prolific insects, not even worthy of licking the dirt off my boot." She lifted a dainty shoe off the ground, holding her foot out and cocking a smile.

Inuyasha snarled and took a half step, only to be stopped by the taijiya holding him back.

Enough of this folly. Sesshomaru stepped in front of Tsering, adding another block to her view, causing her to sulk playfully. "My Lord Sesshomaru is quite protective over the mortals and the hanyo infant," Tsering pouted.

She turned her back to Sesshomaru, incensing him, and added, "Odd. Never have I known half-breeds to...well...breed." She turned her head, addressing him over her shoulder, her eyes looking up at him from beneath heavy lashes, "Then again, never would we allow our slaves the freedom to rut. Even with lesser mortal women. Their lineage notwithstanding."

Tsering seemed to know, despite never laying eyes upon him, Inuyasha to be his kin. Sesshomaru had never thought their resemblances to be similar enough for a stranger to note any relation.

This woman was treading on dangerous ground. This was not the time nor place to broach this subject. Tsering posed too much of a threat. The treaty brokered by their pending coupling would be severed if this were not handled with tact. It would not be a woman scorned he would have the pleasure of handling, but the entirety of her clan. A clan whose numbers while few were mighty and powerful, and did not take any perceived slight lightly.

"Come. Let us return with haste. The affairs of mortals and mixed breed scum are beneath our notice," he declared. He strode past Tsering, knowing she would follow even if not demurely.

The cry of the infant picked up again, and Sesshomaru felt something swell within him, a strange feeling build within his chest. The urge to stop and turn around was nearly too great for him to suppress. He did pause for but a moment and glanced back at the woman almost obstructed from view by her companions.

Her eyes shone with concern, but her mouth was turned down into a frown that seemed out of place on her features. Turning forward, he led his errant bride-to-be away from the mountainside. Sesshomaru was certain that Tsering had noticed the look, even as expressionless as he was, but she said nothing, possibly to bide her time for the future when the information would serve her best.

                                                 o - o - o - o - o

Tsering followed Sesshomaru from the area quietly. It grated upon her to pretend meekness, but it was necessary given the tepidity of the situation.

How intriguing it had been to come upon the scene as it were. She had not immediately announced her arrival, which was all and well with the events that unfolded.

She had watched as Sesshomaru battled with the hanyo male. That was the most intriguing of all, as she had never witnessed a hanyo bear enough power to take on a daiyokai as renowned as Sesshomaru. The tales of his father, Inu Taisho, had spread across the sea to the motherland and beyond. The power and virtue of the great lord Inu Taisho were even heard as far as the mountain peaks of Himalaya. So to watch a descendant of the Inu Taisho line battle against a hanyo was riveting.

Despite the fact that Sesshomaru held back and did not once go on the offensive, it was apparent to her observations that Sesshomaru exerted himself in his defense. That meant one of two things: either the hanyo was remarkably strong, or Sesshomaru was feeble. Tsering settled on the former. She'd learned a great many things from her short time with Sesshomaru's lackey, the green imp.

It had given her untold joy to push her foot upon the little toad's throat and feel the air deflate from his chest until he coughed up the information she desired. She'd learned more of Sesshomaru's prowess, and also of the half brother and his journey to strength and mastery of a great sword. Tsering supposed she could expect as much from Inu Taisho's progeny, even diluted as it were with human blood.

What was most interesting lay in the fact that Tsering had, in all of her years, never encountered such behavior from a half-breed, nor such capability. It caused her to reflect upon the many, many years she had used hanyos. Did they all have this strength? What were they truly capable of? She would have to give this much consideration.

As it were, things in Nippon did not seem to be quite as Tsering would have imagined. Gone were the meek, subservient people of the dwarf country she had heard tell of. They were, rather, warring and brutal.

Tsering had not immediately traveled to her betrothed's estate upon her arrival in Nippon. She had decided to tour the lands she had been banished to discreetly, sending her hanyo attendant, Sonam, out to survey the towns and people for her. It was during this time that her male hanyo was killed. He had gone out on her behalf to beseech a local yokai that she had heard rumors of upon her arrival in Nippon.

Tsering was inclined to make powerful connections to build her own political subterfuge. Even sent out to this small forsaken country, she had plans to keep herself entertained and build upon her family's empire.

However, the yokai lord had killed poor Sonam before he had even approached, hunting him down for sport. Yokai in Nippon did not know the penalty for killing a hanyo belonging to one of the DaiŌzoku. The ignorant Nippon yokai's skewed view was to kill the subservient beings rather than utilize them. That pompous fool would learn soon enough of his transgression when his entire clan was wiped from the face of Nippon. She made a mental note to exterminate the idiot as soon as an opportunity presented itself. Perhaps she could claim the yokai had offended her somehow, without divulging her ulterior motive.

Tsering bristled with the memory of loss and her hindered plans. It was then that she saw the battle interrupted by a human woman masquerading as a warrior. The human drew their attention to the dead pair at the base of a tree. Tsering had smelled the dead as soon as she arrived and had even heard the human mother drag in one last ragged breath before succumbing to blood loss, as humans were want to do. Yet another reason humans were inconvenient; their nature to succumb to even small wounds was annoying.

What was strange was the reaction from both the Inu Taisho siblings. Both stopped in their tracks, and the hanyo male rushed to the dead woman's side, embracing her in despair. He then begged Sesshomaru to bring the mother and child back. Tsering felt perplexed at the notion. Bring someone back from the dead? She watched silently as Sesshomaru did just that with a flourish of an unremarkable katana blade.

So, she thought, he has the power to raise the dead? That information would prove to be useful in the future. Suddenly, Tsering heard the squall of a fresh-born human. The sound offended her ears. Yokai infants did not cry, and Tsering had no cause to be in mixed company of humans in her sheltered life.

'No,' she noted with mild shock — not a human at all, but a mixed breed. The smell of death had masked its unique scent, but now, with the infant revived, she could tell beyond a doubt.

She had been filled with glee. How opportune for a hanyo child to be born for her to train up and replace the loss of Sonam. This was also the time to announce her presence and lay claim on the child by suggesting it as a bride gift.

That notion had been slashed down by the peculiar hanyo and his human companion violently. Quite protective of the human mother and hanyo child they were. Even Sesshomaru had not demanded they obey her, his future bride. That, in of itself, was telling enough.

It was clear the child was blood-related, but that had never stopped the DaiŌzoku; Keyuri being a prime example. How strange the Nippon customs were, Tsering considered. She would need to give this peculiar turn of events great thought.

                                                o - o - o - o - o

"Hush my little one," Kagome crooned to the squalling infant. She smiled, her eyes dewy with admiration, and ran a finger down the bridge of the child's nose. The soothing motion caused the child's dark indigo eyes - the only feature Kagome could claim to have come from her - to become heavy and the crying to cease. With each swipe of her finger down the infant's nose caused its eyelids to droop further and further until a tiny sigh was heard, and the soft breaths of sleep took over.

"Such a fighter. Never wants to sleep, this one," she whispered. Kagome touched the child's face adoringly, running her fingers gently through its downy hair and over the crescent moon on its forehead.

She let out her contented sigh and looked up at her friend, Sango. "How can you love someone so much that you only just met?"

Sango smiled warmly at the endearment, "It's crazy, isn't it?"

Kagome continued to look down upon the sleeping babe and smile. She was lost in her little world, and Sango was happy to allow her friend this small escape before the harshness of reality set in.

Sango pursed her lips and shook her head. It was her turn to provide support to Kagome after they had returned to the village. It had been decided among herself, Miroku, and Rin to take turns visiting and ensuring Kagome had everything that she and the babe needed.

"Have you spoken to Inuyasha yet?" Sango asked.

Without looking up, Kagome answered softly, "No."

Of course not, Sango thought. "Kagome," she said with an air of annoyance, "It's been weeks…"

Kagome looked up briefly and rolled her eyes. She gave Sango a deadpan stare. "He knows where I am. I haven't gone anywhere, Sango. When he is ready to talk, I will gladly talk to him."

Sango made a mental note to club the man upside the head the next time she saw him. He had been sulking around nearly as much as he used to before Kagome returned. "Listen, Kagome. I know that all this happened, and you have the most to deal with because of it, but...at the same time, you are not the only victim here."

Kagome's eyes softened, and she returned to looking at the babe, still sleeping soundly against her breast. "I know, Sango...I know. I've been selfish and-and it's eaten away at me."

"Then find him and talk to him. I don't think you are giving him the credit he deserves," she explained.

Kagome rolled her eyes. "Credit for what? Running away?" Inuyasha had not stuck around after carrying Kagome and her newborn home. He'd deposited them gently down and taken off without another word.

"Kami help me," Sango said under her breath, her eyes looking upwards for heavenly intervention. "He hasn't run away. Quit being so obstinate!"

Kagome glowered and turned her head to look at nothing in particular. Anything but the woman who constantly prodded her to open up. Still looking away, she responded flatly, "I'll find him tomorrow. I know where he is hiding away."

"Good," Sango replied. Hopefully, Kagome would keep her word.

A rustling noise could be heard from the doorway, and both women looked up to see Rin stepping inside. Her eyes lit up once she saw the sleeping form of the baby. She clapped her hands together silently and hurried over to Kagome's side and put out her arms expectantly. "Let Rin hold the tiny baby."

Kagome smiled and relinquished the babe into Rin's waiting arms. "Awe, little baby Sesshy is so sweet."

Kagome and Sango's eyes met. Kagome had not explicitly named Sesshomaru as the father, but the crescent moon on the child's forehead was plain as day, and Rin had not once questioned Kagome. Instead, as soon as Rin saw the babe after they had returned, she cried tears of joy.

"Have you named her yet?" Rin asked. The child had not stirred even after being passed around. Her tiny features were the only thing to move, her brows pulling together, and her lips twitching to pull into a dream-induced smile.

"No, not yet," Kagome said. She reached over and ran her hand through the child's greyish hair and gently tweaked the tiny, felt ears on her head. Kagome thought that the child's locks would be silver, much like Sesshomaru's and even Inuyasha's, but it seemed her own attributes were strong enough to subdue the features she had assumed would be dominant.

"Good. Lord Sesshomaru will want to name her, I am sure," Rin explained while she rocked the baby in her arms.

Sango coughed, and Kagome fidgeted where she sat. Sesshomaru had not been seen nor heard from since the day, weeks ago, when he left with his bride to be. Rin did not seem to think twice over the daiyokai's absence. She'd explained that he had often left her for periods of time as he dealt with situations that may have posed a threat to her. His absence now had a purpose, she'd told them.

Kagome didn't have the same level of certainty. In her experience, people didn't just change their perspectives overnight. The tolerance Sesshomaru had built for his brother was barely palpable. Accepting a child was another matter. She pushed the thoughts from her mind and focused on another daunting task she had to face on the morrow.

                                                o - o - o - o - o

The next day, Kagome awoke as she had for the past several weeks: alone. The baby was nestled next to her, sleeping soundly. Well, not completely alone, she figured with a tiny smile.

She'd had dreaded this moment all night and even more so now that it was upon her. But Kagome had promised she would talk to him, and that was just what she planned to do.

Strapping the child to her back, Kagome made her way to the Goshinboku tree. She knew that was where Inuyasha had run off to all those times and was likely there now. It was still quite early, and he may not have left the branches of the tree just yet.

He'd probably smell her before she came into view, and she could sense him herself, but he stayed put high in the branches as she walked up to the tree. Kagome looked up and could see nothing in the budding canopy.

"Inuyasha!" she called up.

Silence answered her, but she could see tiny flashes of red from his Fire Rat robes. "Inuyasha, come down here and talk to me."

Still silence. Fine. If he wanted to act this way, she would, too.

"Okay. You asked for it!" she yelled. She took several steps back and called out loudly, "Sit, boy!"

The creaking and breaking of branches along with muttered obscenities could be heard as Inuyasha plummeted to the ground, landing face-first in the dirt.

"What the FUCK, wench!" He grumbled into the ground.

"Watch your language!" Kagome hissed, turning her head to look back at the baby. The child watched with large, observant eyes. "And don't you even think about running off, or I will 'sit' you until there is a large enough hole in the ground to bury you in."

Inuyasha pushed himself up from the ground, spitting the dirt out and sat down with his arms crossed. His head turned petulantly away and a scowl painted on his face.

Maybe talking would not be helpful at this moment, she considered. There had to be another way to approach this situation, and it came to her quickly. Kagome unwrapped the baby and pulled her into her arms. Before Inuyasha could see her intentions or protest, Kagome thrust the small bundle into his arms. "Here. Hold her."

Inuyasha sputtered but reacted to the tiny squirming mass forced upon him, holding her awkwardly. "No! Take it away from me!" He demanded.

Kagome took a step back and crossed her arms. "Quit being a child and hold your niece," she told him. It felt strange to say it out loud, but it was the truth, and it was the first warning to Inuyasha.

Inuyasha sat straight and held the child away from his chest but looked down and stared into the baby's eyes. The baby stared back at him, not making a sound. "Why?" he asked, not looking up from the infant.

"Why what?" Kagome asked. It seemed her impromptu plan had worked to get him to open up and talk to her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. "About this..."

Kagome was sure that Miroku and Sango had filled him in, but he wanted to hear it from her. "I was afraid." That much was true.

He looked up at her and subconsciously brought the baby closer to his chest. "Of what?"

Kagome tried to think of how to respond. What could she possibly say to help him understand? She wasn't even sure of it herself most of the time. "Everything," she admitted.

He shook his head. "That makes no damn sense."

"Language!" she warned again in hushed tones. "And I know it doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense."

Inuyasha looked back down at the baby and brought a hand up to her, putting a finger near her tiny hands. She grabbed his finger with her hand and clenched it tightly. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he fought it down. "I thought we made sense."

"I thought so, too." Kagome kneeled in front of him, looking at him earnestly, hoping he would see her torment.

"Then what happened?" Inuyasha asked, his tone urgent.

She shrugged hesitating. "We grew apart." When he rolled his eyes, she added, "You can't force two things to be together that aren't meant to be."

He seemed unconvinced. "But you came back to me. You left everything for me, and it is my job to take care of you."

"I did come for you. I wished every day to come back." That was also very true. It felt so relieving to get this all off her chest, even if it was just some of her pain and frustration she was unloading. "Then things just...did not go as expected."

He glared down at the baby, "You mean you fucking my brother?"

"Dammit, Inuyasha language! Or so help me!" Kagome knew he wouldn't let that go, even after learning the truth behind it. She would never have allowed these events to play out in the order they did voluntarily.

Inuyasha just watched the baby grow still in his arms, his face hard and unreadable. The silence continued to grow, and Kagome knew she would have to break it, or Inuyasha would clam up further.

"Inuyasha, please. I didn't mean to hurt you. I would never have hurt you. I still love you," she explained. It may not have been the love it had started as, but it was still there.

Her admonition surprised him, and he glanced up at her. He didn't seem to be convinced. "Sure," he replied flatly.

"Stop it."

He shrugged, "Stop what?"

Her irk began to rise. Why did he have to make it so complicated? "Stop acting like a child. Kami. Even the baby is more mature than you right now."

The baby had begun to dose in Inuyasha's arms, but that didn't make the statement untrue.

Inuyasha growled defensively. "Hey! I resemble that remark!" he all but barked. The noise jolted the baby awake, but she did not cry out. She did begin to stretch and push her feet out.

Kagome couldn't stop the laugh, even in her frustration. "You mean resent, idiot."

"What?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"Nevermind. Just quit sulking." She put a tentative hand on his knee and hoped he wouldn't jerk away. "Listen. I know you are mad, but I didn't mean for this to happen. I should have told you, yes, and for that, I am truly sorry. Please forgive me."

His eyes were intense then softened a bit. "You should have told me. I could have helped you. I would've fucked that witch up."

Kagome shot him a warning look, but let his curse slide. "Right. I'm sure."

"Are you...are you happy?" he asked suddenly. He grabbed her hand from his knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

This question was not an easy one either, but she felt more comfortable answering him. "No. I'm not. But I'm not unhappy either. I'm in this strange in-between state of bliss and sorrow. I'll be okay, though." She hesitated before adding, "Will you be okay?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he bit out, looking nearly offended at the question.

Kagome wasn't sure if she'd ever overcome the feeling of whiplash from his emotional changes. "I don't know." It seemed like an appropriate time to turn the conversation to a lighter topic.

Inuyasha had taken to handling her baby well. Kagome knew he would never do anything to hurt an innocent child, no matter the circumstances of her birth. The baby also seemed to enjoy Inuyasha, which made Kagome smile contentedly.

"So, is she all that bad?" she asked, smiling down at the infant.

"Keh. I guess it isn't so bad. It's kinda cute." He tried pulling his finger from the infant's grip, but she had locked on. Inuyasha quickly added, "But only cuz it looks like you."

He tugged his finger away gently and scrunched his nose up. "Wait, why does it look like it's judging me?"

The baby was staring intently at Inuyasha, her dark eyes narrowed, and Kagome had to stifle a laugh once she heard the child start to grunt. A loud, squishy sound erupted from the tiny babe, and Inuyasha's eyes widened in abject horror, his lip pulling up into a look of disgust.

"What the actual fuck was that?!" he held the baby out at arm's length. "Why does it smell so fucking bad?" He pushed the baby to Kagome, "Oh FUCK, it's….it's on me! Take it! Take it!"

Kagome grabbed the baby and laughed the hardest she had in months.

                                                o - o - o - o - o

She spent the days in a better mood than she had in ages. A weight had been lifted from her chest that she hadn't realized was even there. The levity she felt was bliss compared to the agony she had endured on end for months. Kagome still felt a hollowness to her, but it was easier to fill the void with the time and love from her friends. There was only so much they could do, though.

Kagome had only recently allowed herself to admit that she longed for something more. It was the reason she had returned to Sengoku Jidai, after all. However, the prospect of that seemed further away than ever before.

The days passed mostly in relative succession. Getting used to a new little person had been easier than she'd anticipated. The little one, as she'd come to call her, grew at a quicker rate than any typical human child. Kagome figured it was due to her parentage. The baby also had a different temperament than she would have thought.

Babies were little lumps that cried, slept, and ate. Her little one, though, was another matter altogether. She very seldom cried, and while she ate and slept at a typical rate, she was much more alert and observant than a human child of comparable age.

At six weeks old, her little one resembled a larger, four-month-old infant. Kagome knew better than to be surprised, though.

She'd once asked Inuyasha if he knew anything about it when she caught him hanging around Sango and Miroku, but he only claimed not to know.

"How should I know?" he'd asked. "It's not like anyone was around to tell me."

Sango reassured Kagome that there was nothing to worry about. There was nothing unrealistic about a half yokai child growing at an accelerated rate. That did not stop the worry from seeping back in and eating at her little by little.

                                                o - o - o - o - o

Traveling to the mainland had been a chore of necessity. Sesshomaru had no desire to escort Tsering to her home across the sea but was left with little choice. It seemed the only way to get the Inu woman's mind off of the mortal woman and child.

Tsering Dawa had been persistent in her questioning, and Sesshomaru despised being questioned nearly as much as he hated dishonorable acts. As soon as they had returned to the palace, she had slyly inquired his stance on mortals and their mixings with yokai.

Sesshomaru had been led to believe that Tsering and her family held mortals in disdain and hanyos even more so. His mother had been misinformed and by extension, had misled him as well. The inu-woman had an extremely warped perception of the uses of hanyos.

Tsering claimed that Keyuri, her hanyo retainer, was a slave but an honorable one. Sesshomaru did not deem her beliefs to be any concern of his own and did nothing to inquire further outside of what Tsering offered willingly. Although, he did ponder how the retainer came to the Dawa's service.

The journey had been uneventful and full of senseless politics. It was nothing but the inu-woman showing him off to lesser yokai in her brother's court far to the western mountains. The royal court, called the DaiŌzoku was unusual even to Sesshomaru's standards. Thankfully, Tsering's brother, Fan Tsenpo, was away on "business" she had claimed. All the better, Sesshomaru thought. He'd heard unsettling stories of the man and had no desire to meet him any sooner than necessary.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Sesshomaru had been distant in more ways than usual, giving mostly nonverbal answers and barely fulfilling his capacity as an escort. His mind was far, far away. He could not stop himself from thinking of her, even as he tried to push it all away. There was the matter at hand, to continue his bloodline and to maintain his familial honor. Yet, even with the prospect right in front of him, it could not have seemed further away. There was always something just below the surface nagging at him, drawing his thoughts back to a small village across the sea.

[lilacmoon83]

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 163: Miss Missing You

Rogers compared the photos of the symbol carved into the victim side by side with that of the drawing of the sketch book that had been in his possession for many years. The disappearance of young Eloise Gardener had been a case that had plagued him since his very early days on the force. He just wished he knew what the symbol meant and why is was suddenly popping up on their victim. No matter why though, he couldn't shake the feeling that the murder was somehow connected to the Eloise Gardener case. He sighed and noticed Tilly talking with Weaver, before leaving the station. He grabbed the sketchbook and followed her out, before calling to her.

"Tilly...is it?" he asked, as she turned to him and nodded curiously.

"I'm Detective Rogers...do you think I can ask you a few questions?" he asked. She shrugged.

"How do you know Weaver?" he asked curiously.

"It's not easy on the streets. I get information for Weaver and then he sees that I eat," she replied. He frowned at that. He didn't like to think of any kid on the streets, though he knew it was very real and serious problem.

"Well, if you answer a couple of questions I have...I can see that lunch is in the deal," he offered. She eyed him with scrutiny for a moment.

"I eat marmalade sandwiches from the deli around the block," she agreed. He smiled and showed her the sketch of the symbol.

"Years ago...there was a girl that went missing by the name of Eloise Gardener. There was speculation that she was a runaway and since you're a street kid, I was wondering if you'd ever heard of someone by that name?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I don't know that name...but I can ask around. I have seen this before though," Tilly replied. Rogers looked at her.

"You've seen this symbol before?" he asked. She nodded.

"I can show you," she replied, as she took his hand and proceeded to lead him off to a destination.

~*~

Today was the day. The moment Jacinda's boss left for the day, leaving the restaurant in the hands of his capable employees, Sabine moved in and placed the sign outside the restaurant, offering her beignets. The usual lunch crowd filed in and word of the delicious fare being offered spread quickly through the lunch hour. As Henry arrived that afternoon, he witnessed the booming business they were doing.

"Wow...I don't think I've ever seen it this busy," Henry commented, as he stepped up the counter.

"It's Sabine's famous beignets. Victoria raised our rent, but we're fighting back," Jacinda said. He smiled.

"Good for you...I'll take an order," he said, as he handed over some cash and in return, she handed him a paper bag with the treats inside.

"Thanks...you know, I'm probably going to be at Roni's later. And...I was wondering if you'd like to have a drink?" he stammered. She smiled.

"Uh...yeah I can text you when I get out of here," she agreed. He grinned.

"Great…" he said, as he stepped aside for the next customer, just David and Mary stopped in with Bobby.

"Hey…" Jacinda said, waving to them.

"Hey...we were walking by and saw the crowd. What's going on?" Mary asked.

"We're selling Sabine's famous beignets. Victoria thinks she can raise our rent and force us out...but we're not going to let her win," Jacinda replied. Mary smiled and squeezed her hand.

"Good for you…" Mary said.

"We'll take a few orders," David added, as he floated her some cash and then took Bobby to find a seat out on the patio of the restaurant since it was a nice day.

"You two seem cozy," Jacinda mentioned slyly. Mary smiled back, just as slyly.

"We are very cozy," she gushed. The other woman smiled.

"I'm happy for you," she said.

"Thanks...but did I see Henry in here minute ago?" Mary inquired and Jacinda looked down shyly.

"Yeah...we're having a drink later," she admitted. Mary grinned.

"That's so good...maybe you two will get cozy too," she said, giving her a wink, before she took their order and went to join David and Bobby.

Unfortunately, only moments later, flames were shooting out of the back of the restaurant, as a kitchen fire broke out. David was quick to act, as he ushered his family and everyone on the patio across the street.

"Be careful!" Mary called to him. He nodded, as he went to make sure everyone got out, including Jacinda and Sabine, who at least had managed to save the money they had made. But it was clear the restaurant was going to be a total loss

"I can't believe this…" Jacinda lamented.

"Hey...we made more than enough to pay the rent," Sabine said, looking on the bright side.

"But what about next month? I have no job now!" she exclaimed and shook her head.

"I should have never let you talk me into this," she said in anger. Sabine looked hurt by that and was quiet then, as the firemen attempted to put the flames out.

"Jacinda...I'm so sorry," Mary said.

"What am I going to do without a job? I'll never get Lucy back now," she lamented.

"Don't lose hope...we'll help you figure this out," Mary encouraged. But Jacinda shook her head.

"There isn't much to hope for anything if I don't have Lucy," she responded, as she walked away. Mary put a hand on her heart, as David returned.

"The fire department has it under control, but it's a total loss," he said, as he noticed her expression.

"Hey...we'll figure out a way to help Jacinda," he promised. She nodded, as her phone chimed.

"It's Roni...she wants to see us," Mary said, as they left the scene and headed for the bar with their son in tow.

~*~

Rogers looked at the structure with weariness, as Tilly slid the door open on the shed.

"What is this place?" he asked.

"My home," she answered and he sighed. This was certainly no place for a person, let alone a child to be living. He looked around, seeing various personal touches that indicated that Tilly lived there and had for quite some time. He saw all kinds of drawings on her walls, including the symbol in Eloise's sketchbook.

"Tilly...why do you have this symbol?" he asked.

"Don't you know?" she asked.

"No...I'm afraid I don't," he replied.

"It wards off evil...or that's what I was always told," she answered.

"Can you remember who told you that? Who taught you how to draw this symbol?" he asked urgently.

"I...I don't remember. It was a long time ago...I think," she muttered. He sighed.

"But I'll still ask around about Eloise," she offered. He nodded and smiled softly at her.

"Thank you Tilly. Let's go get you that sandwich," he said. She smiled and followed him.

~*~

The Enchanted Forest 3

Storybrooke year 2023 - approximately three days after the curse was cast

The portal opened and three people stepped through. They were dressed formally and their clothing definitely signified royalty, especially the two women.

"We made it…" Anna said, as they trekked along the forest path, toward Tiana's castle, which could be seen in the distance.

"Yeah...we're late though, thanks to that weasel from Wesselton," Kristoff commented.

"Yes, but at least we know that the Duke will no longer be causing us problems from inside his nice little prison cell," Elsa reminded.

"Yeah...just wait until Leo finds out he missed all the fun. He would have loved to scare the you know what out of the Duke," Kristoff laughed, as he was reminded of another visit.

"Oh that time he confronted the Duke on his last visit...I thought the old weasel was going to pee himself," he continued. Elsa rolled her eyes.

"I think he did...he really has that intimidating thing down. Kinda sexy, huh Elsa?" Anna teased her sister, whose cheeks colored a bit.

"It's the lightning...it does a lot of the intimidating, like my ice. But yes...it's quite...yes," she stammered shyly, as they came upon the castle and entered the courtyard. It was in shambles and there wasn't a soul around. There was damage to the castle as well and a sinking feeling settled in Elsa's stomach.

"What the hell happened here?" Kristoff questioned.

"It's deserted…" Anna commented, as they ventured further into castle gardens. There was remnants of what looked like a celebration or party, but most of it was scattered and destroyed. Elsa gingerly picked up a stuffed unicorn and recognized it, as she brushed off the dirt.

"Leo bought this in the market a few days before he left...for Lucy," she uttered.

"You...you don't think they're all…" Anna said, clutching her husband's arm.

"Dead?" he muttered, though Elsa heard.

"N...no, they can't be!" she cried, as she ran into the castle.

"Leo!" she called frantically.

"Elsa…" a female voice called weakly. The Queen hurried through the atrium and found Emma against a wall, looking paler than she had ever seen.

"Emma!" she cried.

"Kristoff...Anna...I found Emma!" she called, as the two hurried and with Kristoff's help, they lifted Emma into a chair in the common room.

"What happened...are you ill?" Elsa asked.

"In a way...though I should be dead, so I guess I'm doing better than expected," Emma replied weakly.

"If you should be dead...then why aren't you?" Kristoff asked, earning an elbow in the ribs from his wife.

"Rude…" she chided. He shrugged.

"What? It's a valid question," he retorted. She smiled weakly at their banter.

"It's a long story, of which I'll tell you when I can. But suffice to say...there's been another curse," she said weakly.

"Well...guess that explains why everyone is gone. Except you though," he replied.

"So...everyone was cursed back to Storybrooke?" Anna asked in confusion. But Emma shook her head.

"No...not Storybrooke this time, though we need to get back there and tell Robin and Belle. They stayed behind this time," Emma replied.

"Okay...but you're in no condition to go anywhere," Elsa said.

"It's okay...I just need to get to a place without magic. My heart has been poisoned," Emma explained.

"By who?" Elsa asked.

"Her name is Mother Gothel," Emma replied.

"So is this Mother Gothel the one that cast the curse?" Kristoff asked.

"No...my parents did that," Emma replied.

"I'm so confused...why would they cast another curse? And how?" Anna asked.

"Didn't they need a heart to do that the first time?" Elsa asked. Emma nodded.

"Yes...but apparently, once you've cast the dark curse once, the only thing you need to do it again is blood. They were trying to save me," Emma answered. Realization dawned in Elsa's eyes.

"They were trying to take you somewhere without magic so the poison wouldn't affect you," the Queen surmised. Emma nodded.

"The curse is exactly what Gothel wanted though. She poisoned me to make them do it and then at the last minute, she put a barrier around me to exclude me from the curse," she explained.

"No Savior...no breaking the curse," Kristoff commented.

"Exactly," Emma confirmed. Elsa looked at the tears in her eyes.

"Emma...do they know you were being left behind?" Elsa asked. She nodded.

"The last thing I saw before the curse took them was my entire family crying for me and trying to get through the barrier," she answered.

"Then they think…" Anna started to say, before trailing off.

"Yeah...even if they manage to get their memories back, they'll think I'm dead," Emma answered bluntly.

"Any those in Storybrooke have no idea there was another curse?" Kristoff asked. Emma shook her head.

"It's only been three days and I have no idea where this curse took them. We need to get there. Belle might know how to figure it out," she replied.

"But Storybrooke isn't going to help your condition," Kristoff reminded.

"Once we're there, all you have to do is get me over the town line. Then we can figure all this out," Emma said. Elsa nodded, as they helped her up. Anna took out the bean and used it, creating a vertical, golden portal before them.

"Storybrooke...here we come," she said, as they walked through the portal...

~*~

Regina made her way up the elevator of Belfry Towers, intending to confront Victoria. As she found her way to the floor where Victoria's office was, she spied her making her way through a rarely used corridor, until she heard a voice behind her.

"What are you doing?" Ivy questioned. Regina jumped and spun around, just as Victoria boarded the freight elevator.

"Following your bitch of a mother. Why exactly is she using the freight elevator?" Regina questioned, as she crossed her arms over her chest. Ivy smirked.

"Follow me," she offered. Regina raised an eyebrow.

"And I'm supposed to trust you?" she questioned.

"We both hate my mother. Trust me...it's in the best interest for both of us to stop her," Ivy answered. Regina didn't believe a word she said, but followed. No matter the potential danger, she was confronting Belfry.

~*~

Victoria's heels clicked on the floor, as she slowly approached the slowly spinning vent fan.

"Hiding in the shadows is a little pathetic, even for you Gothel," she called, as the witch slithered from those shadows and looked at Victoria with a smug expression.

"Something has changed...I can feel it," she said.

"Your notions are of little concern to me. There is only one thing that matters…" Victoria retorted, as she placed a hand on Anastasia's coffin.

"Bringing back your daughter requires something you do not have though. And if the changes I'm feeling are true...then you'll not be able to destroy young Bobby Nolan's belief," Gothel hissed.

"Clayton failed to keep a firm hand on the boy. He's too concerned with his little museum and collecting dusty junk to do his job properly," Victoria responded.

"Yes...the truest loves are awake. The Chalice has power again...magic in a land without," Gothel revealed. Victoria looked a bit startled by that.

"Was that your plan all along? For them to actually remember?" she questioned. But Gothel only smirked.

"I need their power...I needed them to bring magic to a land without. Placing that fool Clayton in charge of keeping them apart only ensured they'd find a way back, though I must say, the boy played an impressive part in that. But then, unlike you fools, I'd never underestimate a child. Especially one born of truest love," Gothel sneered.

"I don't care about the Charmings and or your stupid plan. I must revive my daughter and that means destroying the belief of...another," Victoria snarled. Gothel looked at her and then cackled.

"My, my...how far you have fallen, Rapunzel. You are willing to sacrifice your own granddaughter to revive your dead daughter," she mused.

"Sacrifices must be made...I have made my share. It is someone else's turn," Victoria reasoned.

"Sacrificing your own granddaughter...and they call me a monster," Gothel goaded.

"You will help me, witch. If you ever want your freedom, you'll do this," Victoria hissed. Gothel smirked.

"I don't need you to secure my freedom. However, if you do this...I can almost guarantee your demise," Gothel threatened. Victoria smirked and yanked on her chains.

"You are in no position to make threats," she growled.

"But I am," a voice said and the other woman turned.

"Ivy...what are you doing? Why did you bring her here?" Victoria questioned.

"To stop you, mother...the last thing I want is my perfect sister coming back. Even dead...she overshadows me," Ivy answered.

"Well...you are as unremarkable as they come, so it's no wonder," Victoria responded cruelly, as the dark haired woman glared at her. But Victoria turned her attention to the other woman.

"Welcome back, Regina," she greeted.

"If you think I'm going to let you hurt yet another member of my family, especially one of the children, then you really don't know me," the former Queen warned. But Victoria smirked.

"Oh, I know you better than you think. You see...I know they are awake and yet you are here. Which means...they don't know, do they? There is still a particular memory that they have blocked, isn't there?" Victoria questioned. The look on Regina's face was pure murder, as she wanted nothing more than to choke the life out of this evil woman. Victoria smirked.

"I thought not...they still don't know what has befallen their first born. At least when they find out...they shall finally know how it feels! How if feels for their pride and joy...their precious first born to die," she snarled.

"Don't compare yourself to Snow and David...they're so much better than you that it's laughable. They don't value one of their children above the others, unlike you. I thought I had a bad mother...but you give mine a run for her money," Regina spat in return. But Victoria seemed unfazed by her criticism and Regina looked at the witch.

"And you...what you did...if it's the last thing I do, I'm going to make you pay for everything," Regina promised. But Gothel simply smirked.

"You will try...and fail, as they all have. Soon...this world will know my power and it will be rewritten in my glory," the witch warned.

"Oh no...we'll stop you," Regina promised.

"Without the Savior? I hardly think so. Those two idiots will be too busy mourning her and holding on tightly to the brats they have left. I remember how broken they were when Emma drew her final breath. They'll be in no shape to face me," she promised.

"You're wrong," Regina choked out a sob.

"They'll stop you...in Emma's name. They'll stop you to save their other children and all of us…" the former Queen promised, as she stormed out. She had avoided it long enough. She had to awaken those blocked memories in Snow and Charming, as much as she wished she didn't have to.

~*~

"Hey...are you okay?" David asked, as they walked along the sidewalk on the way to Roni's. She nodded and looked up at him.

"David...I'm worried. There's something I forgot to tell you...it slipped my mind until now with everything that happened yesterday," she lamented. He smiled.

"That's understandable...yesterday was quite a day," he said fondly, but then frowned when he saw how troubled she was.

"Is this about Emma's blanket, Mom?" Bobby asked. She looked at her son and then back at her husband.

"Emma's blanket?" he asked, as she dug it out of her shoulder bag. He became captivated by the precious item and gently touched it, marveling at how it was still so soft, even after all these years.

"This is good...right? That means Emma is here somewhere," he said.

"I'm not so sure…" Snow responded. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Lucy found it...in an underground cavern beneath the community garden. I suspect that Victoria had something else hidden there, but this was all that was found," Snow replied.

"What was Lucy doing in an underground cavern?" he asked in alarm. She shrugged.

"I already told her how dangerous is it was, but she was looking for evidence of the curse. Henry was with her though," she replied. He sighed.

"And Emma's blanket was down in this place?" he asked. She nodded.

"Lucy gave it to me to keep safe...and I've had this terrible gut feeling ever since," she replied, as she started to breakdown.

"I think something happened to Emma...maybe that's why we can't remember. We've blocked it out, because it's too horrible to remember," Snow cried, as he took her in her arms.

"Hey...I know it seems that way and I'll admit, it doesn't seem like a good sign that Emma's blanket isn't with her, but we have to have faith that she's okay and we'll be reunited with her," he implored, as they went inside the bar. But the look Regina had on her face when they entered wasn't encouraging at all.

"We need to talk," Regina said and those four words filled them with a sinking feeling of dread.

~*~

Weaver poked around in his evidence locker that afternoon. They had little on yesterday's murder, but then he already knew who it was. The problem was they had to have evidence to make the arrest and to be honest, he wasn't too sad about any of Gothel's followers being killed off. The problem was that the killer didn't distinguish between light magic and dark magic. He hated it all, which meant they were all potential targets. So far, his details that he had put on Leo and Eva or Luke and Jenna rather had reported no anomalies. But he knew it wouldn't be long before the killer made another move. And he had to be ready, for he was a target too. And as much as he missed Belle and Gideon, he was relieved that they had initially stayed behind. Gideon had come down with the flu and she opted to stay home with him, telling him that if their son felt better that they would join them later. But if Belle and their son ventured to the magical forest that had become Henry's new home, they wouldn't find them. And he knew Belle. She wouldn't rest until she discovered what happened to them. That gave him both anxiety and comfort. And though he had every confidence in the world in his wife, he knew how impossible it might be for them to ever discern that they were actually in the past now. Even to the Dark One, their predicament was daunting.

"Sir...there is a man here to see you," an accented female voice said. He turned and eyed the station's receptionist sternly. It still took some getting used to that. In this world, she was so timid. In reality, the blonde fairy that had become his daughter-in-law was as fiery as they came. He almost snorted aloud. That still took some getting used to as well. Who would have thought that he, notorious fairy hater, would have one as his daughter-in-law. Here, Tinkerbell, was the shy Harmony Stevens, receptionist at the Hyperion Heights division precinct. At least he knew she was safe, for his son's sake.

"Tell them to schedule an appointment and I'll see them then," he said sternly.

"An appointment will not be necessary," a cultured voice said and he rolled his eyes. Speaking of people he loathed...

"That will be all, Ms. Stevens," Weaver said, as the timid receptionist walked out of his evidence locker and found herself colliding with a man.

"Oh...I'm sorry," Cassidy apologized, as he steadied her.

"No...it was me. I wasn't watching where I was going," she replied, as they stared at each other for a moment.

"I...I better get back to the phones," she stammered, as she hurried back to the front desk, while Cassidy Gold watched her go, both intrigued and curious, before turning his attention back to the evidence locker. He leaned against the wall outside and listened.

"What do you want?" Weaver spat impatiently, as Baron Samdi waltzed into his evidence locker.

"I just thought it was a time that we have a chat," Samdi responded.

"I don't chat...so get to the point and get out," Weaver growled.

"So hostile...yet it is me that has true reason to hate you, Rumpelstiltskin," Samdi snapped in return. Weaver smirked.

"Don't tell me this is about your dalliance with Regina years ago...shouldn't that have be ancient history by now?" he retorted.

"We had something special...and you ruined it with your curse. I could have made her happy…" he insisted.

"Perhaps...but I needed the curse to find my son and nothing, least of all some torrid romance, was going to stop me," he retorted.

"It was not torrid...it was true. Maybe not as true as those precious Charmings you're so fond of, but it was real," he growled.

"And what? Now you're angry, because Regina fell in love with another and no longer wants anything to do with you?" he questioned. Samdi was silent and Weaver smirked.

"I am a dangerous man when I am scorned, Dark One," he warned.

"And I am a dangerous man, no matter the circumstance, so if it's revenge you're looking for, take your best shot," Weaver countered. Samdi smirked.

"Careful Dark One...because while I may not have access to your precious Belle…" Samdi warned and Weaver cut him off.

"Don't even say her name," he growled. Samdi smirked.

"As I was saying...Belle may not be here for me to use against you, but there is someone else in Hyperion Heights that you care for," he warned.

"Don't you dare…" Weaver growled. He smirked.

"Yes...your son. The same son that you were looking for when you used Regina to cast your curse. The son you sought when you manipulated her into leaving me!" Samdi spat.

"Yes...I did all those things and I don't regret it. I found my son and Regina found her true love. The man with the lion tattoo is her soul mate, after all. If you ask her, I don't think she regrets her actions. They got her the family she has," Weaver stated.

"I could have been that family," Samdi spat.

"And yet, she has more than you could have ever given her. A husband, a step-son, a repaired relationship with a step-daughter she now loves, a step-son, and five grandchildren. Not to mention the great grandchildren she has in young Henry and his daughter," Weaver stated.

"You don't know that. Without the curse, I could have loved her. I could have helped her repair her relationship with the Charmings too," he insisted.

"Until the Goddess Aphrodite came to them and championed them with the Chalice. We know then that you would have done anything then to possess their magic," Weaver said, gauging his reaction. Regina was awake now, but Samdi didn't need to know that.

"And when she awakens and remembers who you really are and your part in Gothel's plot and the fate that befell Emma...you'll be lucky if she doesn't kill you for it," Weaver reminded. Samdi frowned deeply.

"I didn't know that Gothel would prevent the Savior from being taken by the curse so she could be saved from the poison…" he argued.

"And Regina won't care...you're still working with the Collector and that witch. Even if she didn't have her Robin, she'd never have anything to do with you again. But if you want a bit of redemption...you can tell me where the chalice is," Weaver stated. Samdi chuckled in amusement.

"You cannot wield the chalice anymore than I can. Even if I did know where it is...I'd never tell you," Samdi countered.

"Suit yourself...it will be your funeral. Eventually," Weaver retorted, as they glared daggers at each other.

"Or perhaps it will be your son's," he threatened.

"Touch Bae...and I will not just kill you, I will find a way to make you suffer eternally and I know many ways to see to that. You'll beg me for a death I'll never let you have," Weaver warned. Samdi smirked and it was clear that they weren't done with each other. Samdi wanted the dagger and he was sure that Weaver had it stashed in this locker, but getting it would not be easy. However, he would find a way and then the Dark One would pay for destroying his chance at love. He stormed out, unaware that Cassidy Gold had heard the whole exchange and was extremely confused by it all…

[anythingstephenking]

Rocky Mountain High

After the monstrous mountain that was The Dark Tower, it was nice to leisurely stroll back down from that high on the back of a quick little story, The Colorado Kid.

The background of this is a bit fun, if you considering publishing juju interesting, which I do. In 2004, a man by the name of Charles Ardai was booting up a new imprint called Hard Case Crime, in the flavor of the paperback crime novels of the 1940s and '50s. I embarrassingly know what an imprint is because I watch the TV Land show Younger, but I digress. While I know quite a bit about mediocre television, I know very little about ol-timey novels from the mid 20th century, but I guess they were pretty fun. Fun enough to attempt to reboot the genre, through reasonably priced crime paperbacks with illustrations of hot women and smoking guns on the covers.

Ardai wrote King blindly, asking for a cover quote or endorsement of the imprint. Rather than simply saying “I love hot women and smoking guns, Steve King says buy this book”, our man Stevie decided to write his own story for humble submission to the Midnight Society.

Of course Ardai was thrilled, and King adding to the collection certainly helped propel Hard Case Crime towards success, including selections from Brian De Palma (of 70’s John Travolta fame, among many many others) Michael Chrichton (RAWR), and another entry from King, Joyland, which I’ll get to in 9 novels.

King, whether existing as a character in one of his own books, or the real life thing, continues to showcase a complicated display of characteristics that make him so human, flawed and beautiful warped together, it hurts my head. “Oh sure man, but I don’t want to contribute a blurb, I actually want to write a quick little bop about an unsolved death, that ok?” “For sure my dude!”

Whatever King’s motivations behind his decision to pen The Colorado Kid, it was a fun little story that serves to frustrate some, enchant others, and actually serves as an interesting period on the end of the Dark Tower saga, whether intentional or not.

I haven’t ever explored pulp fiction (hey that’s a movie!) of days past, but after entertaining The Colorado Kid over the course of a single evening, I’d be open to reading more. It was fun and infuriating, in a good way.

The story, told in the third person by a couple old newsmen, is about a dead body found on a beach in Maine (duh!), and the ensuing 25-year-old mystery that surrounds the who what where why & how this guy kicked it.

I honestly don’t really feel like getting into it in too much depth, but while there is a hot woman, there’s no smoking gun in this one. For better or worse (I think for better) we don’t get a resolution. I won’t say there’s no ending, because there is, it just happens in your brain when you finish the book.

It was better going into this read knowing there’d be no resolution - our pal Charles tells us so in the forward (which also tells us how good-guy-steve saved his imprint). Not expecting a bow at the end sure makes it easier to open the present without it.

I can’t remember if it was Ardai in the forward or King in the afterward that put this idea in my head, but the sentiment was basically that the books that stay with you are the ones that leave you wondering, thinking and wanting more. While more successful novels do this through subtle themes which I touch up towards the end of my Dark Tower laments, The Colorado Kid does it through not resolving the main conflict, leaving you to wonder what actually happened. And wonder I did, nodding off last night, and when I woke up this morning. Why I don’t think I’ll ever “solve” the case, I am no Agatha Christie, it’s fun to be left speculating after the book has been neatly tucked back away on my bookshelf.

I love my living room bookshelf a whole lot.

The reminder that not all mysteries are solvable by hot women, the reader or police, serves as a gentle remind towards Dark Tower fans that the universe is vast and wide, and while there are many answers to many problems, right and wrong aren’t black and white. My pal Stephen knows this better than most.

8/10

First Line: After deciding he would get nothing of interest from the two old men who comprised the entire staff of The Weekly Islander, the feature writer from the Boston Globe took a look at his watch, remarked that he could just make the one-thirty ferry back to the mainland if he hurried, thanked them for their time, dropped some money on the tablecloth, weighted it down with the salt shaker so the stiffish onshore breeze wouldn’t blow it away, and hurried down the stone steps from the Grey Gull’s patio dining area toward Bay Street and the little town below. (Holy run-on sentence, Batman!)

Last Line: And the mound the little boy who had been pitching held his glove up to one of the bright circles which hung in the sky just below the clouds, as if to touch that mystery, and bring it close, and open its heart, and know its story.

Adaptations:

The novel was (very) loosely adapted into the TV show Haven for SyFy, which I’ve never seen but am always annoyed it’s the first result when I search for “Stephen King” on Netflix. I love bad tv but I don’t have time for 5 seasons of a SyFy show.

[jbankai89]

Do You Believe In Fairies? [10/12]

A/N: I had to add on another chapter to wrap this thing up properly. Enjoy! :) Those of you who are more history-minded, do not look too closely at the marital traditions discussed in this fic going forward, as 99% of it is totally made up and holds no bearing on real things.

Chapter Ten – Kingly Offerings

 Following his proposal to Otabek, Yuri had no idea what to expect by way of preparations.

Back in the Court, marriages were strictly something that the royals partook in to bind the houses together. Lower classes of Fae were generally too flighty to even consider binding themselves to one person, and often they were too busy seducing mortals to even consider some sort of deeper emotional bond to anyone.

The royal weddings were always a spectacle, however. A dozen days of dancing, drinking, and general merrymaking were held in the couple's honour, though the bonded pair were rarely seen after the formalities of the first day, far too busy celebrating their union in private to grace the others of the Court with their presence.

Yuri did not want something large and ridiculous. Not that they could really afford it, given that Yuri had no form of income, and he did not wish to put Otabek's family in the poorhouse. Had money been no object, Yuri felt as though he still would not wish for something large, as aside from Otabek's immediate family and Guang-Hong, he could think of no one else he wished to invite to the occasion, and he wished to keep it private.

 This was not to be, given that when they returned to the village following Yuri's proposal, a white orchid wound around Otabek's wrist, it did not take long for the whispers to begin.

“Look! A proposal orchid!”

“Do you think the prince knows that his intended has been snatched up by this newcomer?”

“Oh, don't they just look lovely together? That stranger is so pretty, and he moves with Altin like they have known each other all their lives. Who is he?”

 The whispers followed them all the way back to the forge, and Guang-Hong immediately darted outside to greet them. His eyes fell to their intertwined hands and Otabek's orchid, and his eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, I knew it, I knew it!” he cried as he ran up to them, embracing Yuri first, then Otabek, bestowing them each with a kiss on the cheek, which left Otabek looking endearingly flustered at the open show of affection. “When you left, I just had this feeling, and...oh, I knew Yuri was going to propose!”

“Get inside,” Otabek said by way of response, though his tone was less urgent and more amused as he shunted the young man towards the door. “We can talk more away from the gossip vultures.”

Otabek herded both Yuri and Guang-Hong inside, and the moment they crossed the threshold, Olga let out an excited shout of her own, making Matyash jump, and the twins drop their dolls in surprise.

“Oh this is just wonderful!” she cried as she rushed forward and dragged Otabek into a hug. “My boy, engaged... Yuri, Guang-Hong, you two are of course more than welcome into our little family, we haven't much, but...”

“My dear lady,” Yuri said, cutting her off gently as he took her hands in his own, assumed his princely tone, and regarded her with a warm smile. “Your hospitality is more warm and generous than that of all of my former kin could offer combined. I will do all I can to help, of course, but I am afraid that I am still learning the ways of your people, and at the moment, I am somewhat useless.”

“A Fae calling himself useless,” Matyash remarked with a chuckle as he stood up and moved to stand next to his wife. “That is something I never thought I would hear. Of course, traditionally it is preferred that the prospective suitor requests the hand of the intended to the parents first, but in this case, I see no reason to call a halt to this. As my wife said, you are welcome in this family, Yuri.”

Yuri smiled warmly at Matyash as he crossed his right arm across his chest, his palm resting over his heart, and bowed low to the older man.

“I thank you for your gracious hospitality,” Yuri said and smiled inwardly when both husband and wife flushed a little at his praise.

A slight tugging on Yuri's tunic drew them from their discussion, and he glanced down to see one of the twins standing there, her dark eyes, so like her big brother's, were wide and curious.

“Does this mean you'll be my big bwovver too now?” she asked, and Yuri realized it was Katya. He recalled Otabek telling him that she was the one with the lisp.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Yuri said as he crouched down to smile at the girl, just as her twin zipped up to her side. “Is that all right with the two of you?”

“Beka always attwacts pwinces,” Katya said by way of explanation. “Pwince Jean-Jacques wikes him a wot. I think you're nicer than him though.”

“Am I?” Yuri asked, and she nodded fervently.

“The pwince isn't bad, but he wikes himself better than Beka.”

Otabek snorted, but didn't interrupt their conversation as Anya nodded in agreement and added, “yeah. He thinks he's the best, he thinks Beka is pretty, and wants to marry him, only cos he's pretty though. But Beka kept saying no.”

“Well, I'm glad he did,” Yuri said with a chuckle, “I like your brother very much. And for more than just his looks, though he is very handsome.”

The girls giggled when Otabek went very pink.

 ~*~

 The following days were a flurry of activity for the family. Otabek spent half the time in the forge, taking on as many projects as he could in order to help save for the wedding, which they were all keen to have take place as soon as possible. Yuri was not too bothered by this—though the presence of iron still made him uneasy, despite the fact that it could no longer harm him, but the sight of Otabek without his upper clothing, shining with sweat, it was as though Adonis himself had descended from the heavens. Otabek was just too lovely to not observe.

At the same time, Olga had taken his measurements, and she and Katya had insisted upon putting together his wedding garb, while Yuri's offers to help were politely rejected. Yuri tried to keep from laughing at Katya's laments that she wished he was a girl, because a wedding dress was so much more fun to make than simple men's garb. He left the women to it, while he and Guang-Hong wandered off together to the flatlands to try and decide upon a worthy gift for Yuri's beloved.

“I don't want something too gaudy or ostentatious,” Yuri said as he and Guang-Hong soaked their feet in the cool river, the hot summer sun beating down on them relentlessly as they sat there. “Otabek does not seem to really enjoy being the centre of attention, but I want something...nice.”

“What about a bloom encased in false amber?” Guang-Hong asked as he regarded Yuri. “Glass coloured to look like amber, with a flower inside, maybe a rose or daisy, to symbolize the two blooms you gifted him with before?”

“Or pressed blooms between panes of glass,” Yuri added as he leant back against the grass and gazed at the sky. “But glass can be expensive...”

The sound of hoofbeats drew Yuri and Guang-Hong from their talk, and they both glanced up at the same moment to see a troupe of riders in expensive-looking garb making straight for them.

“Who is it?” Guang-Hong asked, and began to get up, but Yuri's hand on his arm stilled his movements.

“I think I know,” Yuri replied softly, “just relax, I do not believe that they will harm us.”

The galloping of the horses got louder as the troupe made its approach, the one in front on a sleek black stallion, the man himself with black hair and dressed in an emerald green. Everything from his steed to his clothing screamed of his high standing in society, higher even than a lord or lady—this was a prince, Yuri was certain of it.

Yuri stood up and tugged Guang-Hong with him. As the prince and his servants (or advisors, Yuri wasn't certain) slowed to a stop, he bowed low.

“Your highness,” Yuri said as he straightened up, and the man smirked. He dropped down from his horse and drew his sword, a fine longsword with some sort of inscription upon the blade, though too far away for Yuri to read it. Despite possible threat of drawing his weapon, Yuri had the strangest impression that the man wished merely to show off the weapon, but not use it.

“You know me?” he asked as he stepped forward, and cocked a brow at Yuri. Yuri could not help but mentally remark at the physical similarities between the prince and Otabek—save for their eyes. Where  Otabek's were dark and warm, this man's was a deep ocean-blue—but not unkind.

“By reputation,” Yuri replied with a small smile. “We have a friend in common.”

The man raised his eyebrows, and sheathed his sword.

“You must be the famous Yuri, then,” he said, “the mysterious stranger who swept my intended off his feet as easily as breathing, when my attempts over the last year to win his favour yielded nothing.” Yuri nodded, uncertain what else he could say following such a statement.

“I am, your highness,” he replied. “I care very much for Otabek, and was pleased when he accepted my proposal.”

“I see. Prince Jean-Jacques is my name, crowned prince of this land, and son of Leroy, the king. You speak similarly to myself, as though you come from a royal line,” the prince remarked, arching a brow as he took a step closer to Yuri. “I have never heard a peasant speak as you do. What is your House?”

“I have no House,” Yuri replied, and the prince eyed him with disbelief. “I am in exile, your highness. I was forced out for my defence of Otabek.”

“Your defence of him?” the prince asked, and arched a brow. Yuri nodded.

“My king had kidnapped him, secreted him away to our lands as a gift to me.” Yuri wrinkled his nose, and dropped his gaze as he continued his story. “I demanded Otabek's freedom, lost the challenge I set to my king, and as a result, he, myself, and my Companion were all exiled. Otabek brought me here immediately after it happened.”

“I remember this kidnapping,” the prince said, “it occurred not a month past. When I spoke to his parents however, he said that he was taken by—oh.” His eyes widened, and Yuri shifted nervously. “You're Fae, aren't you?”

“Not anymore, your highness,” Yuri muttered, and he felt his face burn with shame. “My power was stripped from me when I was exiled. I have nothing left.”

“Hmm, not necessarily,” the prince said as he grinned at Yuri, some sort of odd winning smile that Yuri found strangely irksome, though he did not dare to let it show on his face. “I have a proposal for you and your...friend.” the prince's gaze flitted to Guang-Hong momentarily, then back to Yuri.

“A...proposal?”  

“You needn't look so nervous,” the prince said teasingly. “I have no intention to come between you and my beloved, but weddings are expensive ventures, especially for a blacksmith. Certainly, they are more wealthy than some, but nowhere near rich enough to warrant planning a wedding like it is nothing.”

“Then what are your intentions?” Yuri asked, and the prince grinned again.

“I would like to offer you employment at the castle,” he said, and Yuri stared, certain that he'd misheard him. The prince pressed on before Yuri could interject, however. “I would not ask you to live there, my Otabek would not like that, he is a simple man, he needs only the barest of necessities to be content.”

“What sort of employment?” Yuri asked curiously, “I am afraid I know very little of the ways of human life, and I cannot see what use I would be to you.” He exchanged another bewildered look with Guang-Hong, then once again looked back to the prince, who was still grinning at him.

“Oh I believe you would be very well-suited for the job I have in mind,” he replied, “I wish for you to go through our records of Faery Folk, and correct it. I am not asking you to betray the secrets of your kind, merely adjust what our records say of how to appease or entreat with them. I am afraid that our current records are horrifically out of date, and we have lost many young men to them to your former people over the last few decades. I would pay you quite handsomely, certainly more than enough to give my Otabek the wedding he deserves.”

“I have no love for the monarchs of my former land,” Yuri began, his head bowed a little as he spoke. “Further, I would have no protests to the work you have offered, and indeed, I thank you for the opportunity. I must confess that while I enjoy the hospitality of the Altin family, this feeling of uselessness is not very pleasant to me. I have one request however, and I do apologize for my rudeness...” Yuri paused, taking a breath to brace himself for possibly going too far, but hearing this Prince Jean-Jacques speak as though he owned Otabek's heart made him feel slightly sick. The prince nodded once, inviting Yuri to continue.

“Do not call my Otabek your Otabek,” Yuri said firmly. “He chose me, and I must admit it is irksome to have you refer to him as such, when it is not you he chose to be with.”

Guang-Hong gasped at Yuri's brazenness, and at the same moment the prince's two companions leant towards each other and started to whisper rapidly. In contrast to the others, the prince smiled at Yuri, less like he had just demanded something of a monarch, and more like he had told him a particularly amusing joke. He strode forwards, rested a single finger under Yuri's chin, and tilted his gaze up until their eyes met.

“Quite a demand from one who is, for all intents and purposes, a peasant in my kingdom,” the prince purred while Yuri strove to keep his expression neutral. He did not know what to expect from this royal, and quite suddenly he rather wished he'd had the forethought to ask Otabek more about him.

“JJ!” a sudden voice cried out, and both Yuri and the prince whipped around to see Otabek running towards them, his eyes wide. “JJ, don't! Leave him alone!”

Otabek skidded to a halt next to Yuri, and tugged him back out of the prince's reach. Yuri stumbled into his side, and pressed a hand to Otabek's chest to stop himself from falling.

“Leave him alone,” Otabek repeated firmly, one arm wrapped possessively around Yuri's waist as he frowned at the prince. “Please.”

“I was doing nothing wrong, Otabek, I swear it,” the prince replied smoothly, and offered Otabek a warm smile. “I was merely ceding my defeat to him for your lovely hand.”

Otabek flushed a deep scarlet, and the arm around Yuri's waist tightened slightly.

“I've asked you before to not make comments like that, it makes me uncomfortable,” Otabek said, and the prince bowed.

“Apologies, Otabek. I am afraid sometimes I forget myself where you are concerned, and it is difficult to control my wayward tongue,” the prince said, and his eyes fell again to Yuri. “I suppose that is what lost me your hand, my lack of respect for you.”

“Something like that, yes.”

“Allow me to make it up to you, then,” the prince said with another bow to Yuri, Otabek, and Guang-Hong. “I offer you the castle's rose gardens as space for your wedding, the castle's priestess, and anything else you should require for your special day. And, of course, Yuri, the job is still yours if you want it.”

“Job?” Otabek asked as he turned to Yuri, and he reached out to squeeze the brunet's arm gently.

“I'll explain later, I promise,” Yuri murmured, and Otabek inclined his head once.

“That is very kind of you, your highness, but we wish to have our wedding in simplicity, not extravagance,” Otabek said to the prince, and bowed once. Yuri felt himself gasp at his brazenness in the face of a monarch, but amazingly, the prince did not appear offended by the rejection. Instead, he bowed deeply to Otabek and Yuri in turn.

“I understand,” the prince said, and turned to Yuri as he chirruped once, calling his horse forward, and closed his hand over the reins. “Yuri, come to the castle when you have decided whether or not you want the work. Ask for me by name, you should have no issues with the servants barring you from seeing me. Good day.”

Without another word he got back on his horse, called to his attendants to rejoin him, and they rode off.

Yuri felt his entire body sag with relief as he watched the prince disappear, and he turned to Otabek, who was smiling at him with vague amusement that Yuri did not share.

“What on earth were you thinking, Otabek?” “What?”

“Speaking to your prince like that!” Yuri cried, his eyes wide with fear. “What if he had executed you for your insolence? I can't tie myself to you if you have no head!” Yuri was breathing harshly, alarmed over the possibility that in a split-second he could have lost his precious Otabek—his own insolent remark at the prince not a full ten minutes prior notwithstanding.

“Yuri,” Otabek said, his voice ringing with patience as he smiled at him warmly, “this is not the Fae Court, the rules here are different. What you saw was not insolence...well, it would have been, had I not known Prince JJ personally, but we are...acquainted. I would not call us friends, but certainly closer than strangers. He is a bit...frustrating to deal with, but he and his family have never been harsh or cold monarchs, they care for their people. They always have.”

Yuri shifted closer to Otabek, and wrapped his arms around the human's—fellow human's, Yuri reminded himself—waist, and clung tightly to him.

“Everything here is so strange, it scares me, the...the...life here is so perilous, and I am in fear of losing you so often, and I think, Gods above, what if something happens, what if I do lose you?” Yuri gazed up at Otabek as he spoke, his voice catching, and he felt tears sting his eyes. He couldn't lose Otabek—he simply couldn't.

“I'm not going anywhere, Yuri,” Otabek murmured as he moved to cradle his cheek, and kissed him lightly, “just breathe, it's all right, everything is all right.”

“Why does this conversation sound so familiar?” Yuri asked suddenly, and Otabek laughed.

“I do recall falling apart quite spectacularly when I was taken by...” Otabek hesitated briefly, “...him, I'd say your distress is hardly unwarranted, my Yuri.” Otabek paused, and kissed him lightly. “It will take time to adjust to human culture, do not pressure yourself, be patient with yourself.”

Otabek rubbed Yuri's back as he spoke, and Yuri hugged him tightly as he arched up for another kiss.

“Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve you,” Yuri murmured as he reached up to brush his fingers along the edge of his jaw, “you are just so...lovely.”

Yuri smiled when he saw Otabek flush pink at the compliment, and rested his arm securely around Yuri's narrow waist.

“Come home with me and tell me about this job offer that Prince JJ mentioned,” Otabek said encouragingly, just as a soft cough sounded not far from them, and they both turned to Guang-Hong, who had been sitting off to one side quietly. He smiled warmly at them, his eyes glimmering with mirth over the fact that he had been momentarily forgotten by the couple, though he did not appear at all offended.

“Let's all go home,” Yuri said in an effort to smooth over the awkward moment, and with one arm wrapped around Otabek, he reached out the other to join hands with Guang-Hong, and the three of them headed back towards the forge.

“Tell me,” Otabek repeated as they moved, “what is this job that the prince spoke of?”

“Oh, ah...he wants Guang-Hong and I to update their records of my people, erm, former people. I think he wants to find ways to stop them from taking the firstborn sons, but I didn't think it would be wise to tell him that that would be impossible until the present king is gone. I feared he might attempt to go to war, and such a thing would be foolhardy, to say the least. Humans do not stand a chance against an army of Fae.”

“I wish I could disagree and have more faith in my own people, but after seeing the Court...” Otabek trailed off and shook his head. “Perhaps it is best if you humour him, and not share that tiny detail with the prince, should you take the job.”

“I don't intend to—tell him, I mean,” Yuri clarified, “the job I will take, if you think it's a good idea. Will the prince not try to keep me away from you?”

“I see no reason why you shouldn't,” Otabek replied with a small smile. “As I have said, our prince is not like your Court was. He is not a vindictive man—full of himself, yes, but never cruel. If you would like to take the job, I see no reason why you shouldn't.”

Smiling warmly at the approval of his fiancé, the trio fell silent as they finally made it back to the forge.

 That night, after a sumptuous meal prepared by Otabek's mother, they spent the evening before the fire, warm and content while Yuri and Guang-Hong listened to the family exchange stories, some true, some fanciful, all the while sitting next to Otabek, their hands intertwined, while Guang-Hong sat at his side, his knees drawn up to his chest, and a small smile upon his face. After the accident of excluding him that afternoon, Yuri and Otabek had been more careful to include Guang-Hong in their conversations, so as to ensure that he did not feel left out. The young man appeared highly amused by their efforts, but neither did he stop them. Guang-Hong seemed to be highly amused by their habit of becoming so wrapped up in each other that they forgot who else might be present, though Yuri did not allow this quiet permission to encourage him to ignore Guang-Hong, and in fact had the opposite effect. His former Companion, now simply his friend, was like a little brother to him, and he never wanted to do anything that might imply that he was a burden on him.

 “There is something I have not told you,” Guang-Hong whispered a little while after the Altins had headed to bed, leaving Yuri and Guang-Hong alone curled up before the dying fire to talk in private.

“Oh?” Yuri asked, “and what might that be?”

“A young man from the market, a fiddler and son of a fish monger, he has been approaching me when I go into town. He is...” Guang-Hong paused and bit his lip, his cheeks flushing a faint pink as he sat there. “He reminds me of someone, but I cannot place who. Someone from my former life, I think. Is that even possible, your h—Yuri?”

“He could be a reincarnation of someone you used to know, that is not outside the realm of possibility,” Yuri replied. “I knew of a few young men our former monarch would enchant, but not take, and he would revisit them every few hundred years, when they were once more upon the earth after being reborn.”

“I like him,” Guang-Hong proclaimed with that same small, shy smile. “Would it be possible for you or Otabek to invite him to the wedding, so that I may dance with him?”

Yuri chuckled, wrapped an arm around Guang-Hong's shoulders, and pressed a friendly kiss to his cheek.

“It is done, my friend.”

Guang-Hong's expression brightened, and he rested his head on Yuri's shoulder. Yuri shifted his gaze to the glowing embers in the hearth, and watched them until Guang-Hong began to nod off. He guided his friend up to his bed before joining Otabek, and curled up into the warm embrace of his beloved, and began to count the days until they could finally tie themselves together.

He could hardly wait.

A/N: If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P you can also support me on Patreon, where I am posting all things related to my upcoming cookbook. Simply Vegan.

DYBIF Masterpost

[thesevenseraphs]

Bungie Weekly Update 2/23/17

This week at Bungie, we’re waging our usual battle in playtest.

Last week we launched Hotfix 2.5.0.2, which contained some impactful changes to the Destiny Sandbox. Since then, Guardians have expressed a renewed fondness for their Primary weapon choices. The Special Ammo economy also saw some major alterations and players are adjusting to a new Crucible where death carries a much higher price.

It has been a little over one week since these new changes took effect and we’re still monitoring feedback from around the community. One thing we have been hearing a lot of is: “Sidearms… so hot right now.” A lot of the feedback around Sidearms has pointed out their unique ability to hoard Special ammo when other weapons are running dry.

Senior Designer Josh Hamrick

has a few preliminary plans to address this in the future. He also has some ideas for making Memory of Skorri a little less impactful on Trials of Osiris without negating its benefits in PVE.  

Josh Hamrick: And I’m back again. In the spirit of open and honest communication, I wanted to show up and talk about a couple of changes we’re beginning to test now.   Before I do, I have to state that these changes could see some iteration before they make it to you. The important thing to know is that this iteration could change the details or even - though it’s unlikely - entirely kill them. More than likely they’ll ship, and probably as is, but we’d like to clear that up, just in case.   Now, the goods… 

Sidearms: In a not-entirely-shocking development, the Sidearm meta has grown strong. With its innate ability to not only keep ammo through death, but to also actually store it away, Scrooge McDuck style, it’s the ultimate gift for anyone who’s always running out. For now. We are currently working on a change that would allow Sidearms to continue to spawn with a small set amount of ammo post-death, but keep them from stacking anything extra. They’ll be handy if you run into resistance on your way to the ammo crate, but to keep your Sidearm usage high, you’ll still need to stock up often.

Memory of Skorri: This Artifact has led to some of the greatest dance parties I’ve ever attended in Destiny. That being said, aside from encouraging these sort of team building events, the artifact itself tends to inspire a more lackadaisical approach to gameplay. Instead of continuing to encourage you to hurry up and wait on a Super, we are looking at modifying Skorri to motivate some activity. The change currently in testing requires a kill to jumpstart Skorri’s unique ability for the next minute. Once in times out, you’ll need another kill to jumpstart it again. We believe you won't have any problems killing one enemy every 60 seconds for maximum uptime in PVE, but Trials may offer a greater challenge. 

Truth: While I think Truth’s strength is its unique ability to find its target, clearly having more rockets is always better and losing a loaded rocket is - understandably - a heavy loss to many players. To make this a little bit easier to deal with, we are looking into adding one additional rocket into your backpack AND bumping Truth to the max Rocket Launcher reload speed.  

No Land Beyond: Much like the recent rise of Sidearms, NLB is showing up more and more. Ultimately, we would never want to destroy NLB’s Exoticness, meaning we would never move it from the Primary slot or change it from being a Sniper. On the contrary, we've found a potential workaround for making NLB flinch like the Sniper Rifle it is. This one will require a good amount of testing, but we think it’s a good change. Keep your shooting clean and you’ll still pop heads like nothing ever changed… But falling behind in a head-to-head primary fight will likely be a death sentence.

Blink: As you know, we’ve nerfed Blink a few times over the years. While we're happy with the latest changes, we believe that the stack of nerfs has grown too high. To counter this, we are looking into removing the old Recovery nerf entirely. Additionally, we’re looking at pulling back the time that you’re HUDless by just a bit.

Finally, Nutty McNutface is a lazy name for a squirrel and you all know it.

These potential changes will join fixes for Health Regen Perks in an update we are testing now. You can also read about those proposed changes in a post from earlier this week. Stay tuned for more details on when you can expect these to land. None of these changes are finalized and we don’t have a date for delivery yet, but we wanted to get you in the loop earlier into the process this go-around.

Call Your Banners

Here is another opportunity to test the new combat scenarios in Destiny.

Begins: Tuesday, February 28th, 10 AM Pacific Ends: Tuesday, March 7th, 1 AM Pacific The game will be Supremacy!

Iron Banner is back next week. It returns to the gametype that launched with Rise of Iron. Back in September, Guardians lamented the overuse of Shotguns. Things may be different now that shells are not as plentiful. Collect those Crests and claim your rewards. Efrideet will be waiting at Felwinter Peak with your Bounties and a glimpse of what rolls you can expect on this lineup of weaponry.

Sniper Rifles

Hand Cannons

Helmets

Boots

A Plentiful Bounty

We have designated a new Bounty for you to hunt. JogoandoPlay has volunteered to venture into the wild as a target for an eager community.

Bungie Bounty: JogoandoPlay Region: Brazil When: 6 PM Pacific 2/25/2017 Console: PS4 Playlist: Clash

Same rules as before. Match with JogandoPlay during the two-hour event and win the game to earn your Emblem. It will be delivered to your Emblem Collection later in the week. We have to be at the studio to give these out so you will have to wait until Monday or Tuesday. If you have any questions about Bungie Bounties, our brave men and women at Destiny Player Support have created a handy Bungie Bounty FAQ for you. Speaking of DPS…

Helping Hands

…they are ever watchful. Our player support team is investigating issues behind the scenes. They are constantly tracking a list of known issues with the live game. If you need assistance, you can find them on our #Help forum. 

This is their report.

Console Update Preview Programs This week, it came to our attention that some players are currently unable to join Multiplayer sessions or connect to Destiny activities due to issues introduced by a Console Update Preview. If following the steps under the Network Troubleshooting Guide does not resolve your issue, we advise contacting PlayStation Support or Xbox Support for further troubleshooting methods.

Local Network Fireteam Issues We are actively testing a proposed solution to an issue where players on a local network are unable to form a Fireteam. The proposed fix is somewhat complex in nature, as the changes would revise systems in place that all Destiny players use to form Fireteams with each other, or join matches. While this could solve the issue for some, it may introduce additional issues that would impact a larger population of the Destiny player base. As such, we are testing the proposed solution thoroughly to prevent further issues from being introduced. In the case that this issue is not resolved by the proposed fix, or additional issues are found through testing, we will continue to pursue alternative solutions in hopes of addressing the Local Network Fireteam Issues. Additional updates on the investigation will be provided when possible.

Accessing Destiny Content

Over the last few weeks, Destiny Player Support has received many reports concerning access to Destiny content. In many cases, players were reporting that pre-ordered content was not available to them, or that they were unable to access activities that required the purchase of specific Destiny releases.

Clear your console’s cache

Inspect Destiny under your PlayStation 4 Library or Xbox One in My Games & Apps section

Ensure all items listed under Destiny have been downloaded.

If any content is present but not installed, select the appropriate release and proceed to download.

If you have purchased a Physical edition of Destiny, ensure all DLC codes have been redeemed under your PlayStation or Xbox Account.

If all content is present when inspecting Destiny, you may need to re-install this content.In the case that you continue to experience issues accessing content after following these steps, you may be required to contact PlayStation Support or Xbox Support for additional troubleshooting steps.