#i do nothing but harness new skills to i can force those boys into new mediums

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

guys if I ever stop posting shit post sketches of the outsiders boys know THAT IS NOT ME (yall know the drill real real bad handwriting decoder in alt text🙂‍↕️🫶)

[marjansmarwani]

maybe, I’m afraid 

3.8k || ao3

Episode 2x06, but with Carlos (as it should have been)

Just me here again to give Carlos the screen time he should have had. 

A little late to the party maybe (I have no idea how you all manage to get fics up within 24 hours of the episode, I am in awe of that ability) but I still felt the need to make my contribution.

--------

Most days Carlos was pretty sure that after 7 years on the force he had seen everything there was to see. 

Other days he got a call to respond to two teenagers trapped in a homemade minefield and he was forced to reevaluate that sentiment. 

It doesn’t take long to figure out all there is to know, including just how bad it really is, and by the time the familiar ladder truck pulled up (because of course it was the 126) he was waiting outside the passenger door to give Owen the rundown. 

“Officer Reyes,” he greeted when he saw him, “I’m surprised to see you. I thought this would be a little out of your jurisdiction.” 

Carlos shook his head, “Just barely within it, another half-mile and the sheriffs would be handling the call.”

“But you managed to snag it, lucky you.”

“Can’t say I would have been too upset if I had missed out on this one,” Carlos agreed drily. 

Owen hummed in agreement as he surveyed the scene, “What are we looking at, exactly?”  

It was a bleak picture: two brothers, trapped. One injured, both scared and stuck in an active minefield without a map. And the bomb squad was at least 40 minutes out. He saw his concern reflected on Owen’s face as he considered the situation and all the implications. If they waited, the boy would die. If they went in, he would be possibly sending some of his people to die too. 

And yet Carlos knew what choice he was going to make before he even opened his mouth. He had learned so many things during his time with TK, and one of them was that in so many ways he and his dad were a lot alike. If it were his call, TK wouldn’t have been able to leave those boys in there either. So when the instruction came, he wasn’t surprised. 

“We’re going to need the heaviest duffel we can find and spray paint - the brighter the better.”

Carlos locked eyes with TK briefly as he and the rest of his team turned to start gathering supplies, giving him a smile and hoping that it conveyed everything he wanted him to know: it would be alright, no matter what. 

He almost believed it too. 

All was calm at the start, the 126 functioning like the well-oiled machine they were. In no time they were prepped and Owen was striding back towards the ambulance, asking the new guy if he was ready to go. The discussion quickly transformed into an argument and Carlos couldn’t help but glance back over at the minefield and the brothers. Every moment they argued was one less moment these boys had. Carlos was considering stepping in when a new voice entered the discussion, effectively bringing the escalating argument to a halt. 

“I’ll go.” 

And Carlos froze because he knew that voice. He would know it anywhere, it drew him like a moth to a flame in any room. He turned slowly to find TK standing slightly apart from his crew, stance relaxed but jaw set in determination. 

“I was a dual function FD medic in New York,” he explained, voice calm and firm, “all my certifications are up to date. I can do this.” 

Carlos didn’t need to be looking at him, didn’t need to see where his gaze shifted to know that those last words were directed at his dad. The knowledge made Carlos’s heart ache. The fact that his boyfriend still felt the need to prove himself to his dad after all this time and all he had accomplished killed him, but the thought of TK willingly walking into the minefield killed him even more. 

But it wasn’t his choice to make and when Owen nodded, he felt a cold dread spread throughout his body. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. Today was not supposed to be the day he watched his boyfriend walk into an active minefield. That day was never supposed to come, and yet here it was. 

He walked over to where TK was switching out his gear, struggling with a strap that was twisting over his shoulder. He reached out for the strap without a word, smoothing it out and snapping it in place. They didn’t speak as Carlos stepped back, surveying the harness and gear for any other twists or issues. 

“It’s going to be fine, Carlos.” 

TK’s voice, soft and reassuring, broke the silence and Carlos met his eyes sharply. He wanted so desperately to believe him, but there was a field filled with explosives that had already claimed one life today behind them and he was finding it hard to be optimistic. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked instead. 

TK pulled his helmet on, his steady gaze never leaving Carlos, “Of course I’m sure, the kid’s going to die if we don’t go out there, Carlos. I need to help if I can.” 

Carlos reached down to grab his medical bag and held it out to him. He didn’t like the thought of the man he loved purposefully putting himself in harm’s way, but he also knew TK. As much as he might hate it sometimes, this was TK: always ready to help, always willing to put himself at risk if it meant saving someone else, and there was nothing Carlos could do to change that. And he wouldn’t want to - it was a part of TK that made him who he was: someone that Carlos loved with all his heart. 

When TK reached out to take the bag from him, he didn’t release it immediately. He let his grip linger for an extra moment as he studied TK, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Just, be careful,” he told him softly. TK gave him a small smile, and Carlos released his grip on the bag, allowing TK to walk away, towards the minefield. He was still watching as he ascended the ladder that would drop him out onto the minefield when he felt the presence of others appearing at his side. 

“He’ll be okay kid,” Judd said quietly, eyes never leaving the sight of the two Strands climbing to the end of the ladder. 

“You don’t know that Judd,” Carlos responded just as quietly, already feeling his fingernails digging into his palm as he clenched his hands at his side. 

“No,” the older man agreed softly, “I don’t. But I do know they’ll be as careful as they can.” 

Carlos nodded, eyes tracking every movement desperately. They had reached the edge of the ladder now and he watched as Owen tossed down the duffel, as they both reeled back in preparation for an explosion. He could feel his heart skip a beat and his breath catch in his throat as they waited, but there was only silence and after a moment, he allowed himself to breathe again. 

“I don’t know if my heart can take this,” Paul lamented from his left, “that was nerve-wracking and they still have a long way to go.” 

Carlos nodded wearily, but caught his retort before it slipped out of his mouth: if they made it that far. He didn’t need to release that idea into the universe and the others didn’t need to hear it. So he swallowed it and continued watching. Each and every movement they made was agonizing to watch, but each and every thud of them landing unharmed gave him a moment to catch his breath, a brief reprieve for his heart to beat normally. They had settled into a rhythm, and everything was going smoothly. 

Until it wasn’t. 

The sound of the mine exploding filled the air around them and worked its way into Carlos’s soul. It sent shockwaves through his body as he watched, desperately trying to see through the haze of smoke and debris. He couldn’t see him, he didn’t know if he was okay. 

That fact was more than enough to bring on the fear. It attacked him with a vengeance, freezing him to the spot. He felt as if the whole world froze in that moment; suspending him in the terror of not knowing, trapping him with doubt and fear. 

And then he heard TK’s voice, and he could breathe again. It might just be the most wonderful thing he had ever heard. 

When Owen’s voice sounded across the radios, confirming that they were both in one piece, time picked back up at its usual pace. He felt himself sag in relief, grateful for the knowing and supportive hand on his shoulder from Judd. He spared a glance at the others, seeing his relief reflected on their faces and in their stances. 

Marjan let out a long breath, “That was…” 

“Intense,” Paul agreed grimly, “let’s never do that again.” 

They all nodded, and Carlos couldn’t agree more. 

If there was an upside to that moment it was that the path forward was now clear and the two Strands made quick work of the rest of the journey, closing the distance between them and the boys in seconds. Carlos watched in awe as TK slipped into medic mode the moment he reached the boys’ sides, calmly managing the scene and taking care of the patient. It was a wonder to watch. He handled it all with focus and compassion, quietly reassuring the boys even as he gave instructions to his dad and administered care. He was cool and steady even as he delivered the lifesaving compressions, forcing the teen’s blood to pump through his veins with his own hands. It was only minutes before his voice sounded over the radio, announcing that the injured boy was stable and no amount of fear or worry could have stopped the intense pride Carlos felt in that moment. 

“Kid’s got some skills,” Judd observed with a fond smile and Carlos could only grin. 

Paul nodded, “Looks like someone’s been holding out on us, that was pretty impressive I must admit.” 

“Badass is more like it!” Mateo exclaimed and Marjan, standing next to him, laughed even as she placed a hand on his arm. 

“Steady Probie,” she reminded him, “they still have to get out of there. Let’s not jinx anything.”

Her words tempered the celebratory mood of the group, but even though Carlos had never let go of that fear (he knew he wouldn’t until TK was out of the minefield and at least 2 miles away) it felt different from before. It was wrapped in that pride now, and even as Carlos watched them prep to move and the bomb squad moved out to locate and detonate any mines along the path, he couldn’t shake that. It was almost stronger than the fear now, this pride he felt for TK. That was his boyfriend; the person who had just saved two young brothers in the middle of a minefield was the man he loved. Just when he thought that he had come to know every bit of his body and soul, he managed to surprise him all over again. 

It took every ounce of restraint and professionalism Carlos had to not rush over to TK the moment he cleared the edge of the minefield. He forced himself to wait, focusing on his own job while keeping a watchful eye on TK as he reported back to Captain Vega, as he got an exam from the new paramedic. It wasn’t until he headed back to the ladder truck that Carlos broke away from the crowd, meeting him at the side of the engine. TK looked up as he approached, a smile on his face and a greeting on his lips, but Carlos pulled him into his arms before he even had a chance to speak. 

He held him tightly, savoring the feeling of his breath on his collar and the faint sound of the beating of his heart. His familiar scent filled Carlos’s head with each breath and he closed his eyes. He would have been happy to stand there forever, feeling this and just being them and while he knew they couldn’t, he was determined to have at least a few moments more before the world interrupted. If nothing else, the universe at least owed him this. 

“I’m okay Carlos,” TK said evenly, his voice muffled against Carlos’s shoulder. 

But you almost weren’t. The words rang through his head, but he didn’t speak them. Instead he pulled away just enough to see TK’s face as he asked, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” TK assured him firmly, placing a steady hand on his chest, “the new medic looked me over but I could have told you anyway, I’m fine. Not injured, my dad and I both made it out and so did the boys. This was a win Carlos, I’m more than okay.” 

And he was, Carlos saw as he studied him. He was beaming; enthusiasm pouring out of him. His eyes were alight with something Carlos couldn’t name and he was practically vibrating. Despite everything, Carlos couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He was still worried, still terrified by all the ‘what ifs,” but seeing TK like this gave him a lightness he couldn’t have imagined feeling even a few minutes before. 

He shook his head, trying to mask his smile with little success, “I am glad you’re so pleased with yourself, considering you almost gave the rest of us a heart attack.” 

He had been going for a joke but he instantly regretted it when TK dimmed, “I’m sorry,” he told him sincerely, ���I didn’t mean to scare you guys, especially you. I just knew I could help…” 

Carlos interrupted him, moving his hands so they were on each of TK’s shoulders, “You have nothing to apologize for Ty,” he assured him firmly, “you did the right thing. You saved a kid’s life and you did amazing. I am so proud of you.” 

TK’s smile returned, softer than before but still glowing with pride, “You are, are you?” 

Carlos leaned down to place a soft and tender kiss on his forehead, “I am. So incredibly proud. You’re a pretty impressive guy, you know that?”

TK’s smile could have lit up the world and Carlos would have been happy to let it. But they were both still on the job and decidedly not alone, as they were suddenly reminded when Paul peaked around the side of the engine. He smirked at them before calling over his shoulder, “Yeah, they’re decent back here, you guys can come around.” 

Carlos rolled his eyes at his friend while TK casually flipped him off. Paul crossed towards them, completely unfazed before reaching out and pulling TK into a hug of his own. “You can’t keep scaring me like that man,” he told TK when they pulled apart, “I’m getting too old for that crap.” 

TK rolled his eyes at his teammate and Carlos chuckled. He looked behind him to see the rest of the team materializing. 

“That’s my cue,” he told TK, “I need to get back to work and get this scene wrapped up anyways. I’ll see you at home later?” 

TK nodded, reaching out to squeeze his hand, “I’ll be there right after my shift.” 

“Think you can make it until then without nearly dying on me again?” 

“I’ll do my best,” TK assured him and Carlos smiled. 

“That’s all I ask,” he responded, “I love you.” 

“Love you too, Carlos.” 

Carlos smiled at that, the warmth he felt every time he heard those words from TK rushing through him. With one last squeeze of the hand holding his own, he stepped away, letting TK’s team get in their time. As he reached the corner of the engine he looked back, still feeling the whirlwind of emotions deep in his chest. 

But TK was safe and happy - he couldn’t ask for anything more. So he turned the corner and returned to the task at hand. 

----------

“You know, that call today? It felt good, really good.” 

Carlos looked up from his dinner sharply to see TK idly playing with his, his focus clearly elsewhere. “Please don’t tell me this means you have decided to become a real-life minesweeper, I am going to have some objections to that,” Carlos deadpanned. 

TK laughed lightly, shaking his head, “No, not quite.” 

“Thank god, I don’t think my heart could handle that.” 

TK shook his head fondly at Carlos before his expression grew more pensive, “I didn’t mean the minefield, or even the danger or adrenaline. I meant the saving the boy part. I know I do that all the time as a firefighter, but there’s something different about doing it as a medic. I haven’t had the chance to really do any medical calls since moving to Austin, with the way the department is structured.” 

“You’ve never really talked about it before,” Carlos noted, “I’ve seen you do medical stuff in the field, but before today I didn’t even know you were dual certified.” 

TK shrugged, “It just never really came up, I guess. It’s pretty typical in New York, but their firehouses are structured differently. I guess once I made my peace with being down here I never really thought about it again. It’s not like I could do both the same way I used to.” 

His tone was almost wistful as he turned his gaze down to his plate, but Carlos had a feeling he wasn’t really seeing the food on it. “Sounds like you miss it,” he ventured after a few more moments of silence. 

“Sometimes I do.” 

“So why not go for it?” 

TK looked at him sharply, but Carlos just shrugged, “What? You’ve spent most of the past hour talking about it and you mentioned how the new guy quit and there’s an opening on the paramedic team within your first 10 minutes of showing up tonight. I know you and I know you’re already thinking about it, so why not try it?” 

“Even if I applied, there are so many other candidates. There’s no saying she’d pick me.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. She knows you and how dedicated you are to your job. She saw you in action today, willing to take the risk that someone else wasn’t in order to save a patient. You did the job well and you did it under insane pressure after months of not doing it. If I were her, I’d be wondering what you’d be capable of on an average day.”  

TK looked startled at the efficient takedown of his doubts, but Carlos just raised an eyebrow, “Next?” 

He would dismantle his boyfriend’s doubts with logic one by one if need be. Whatever it took for him to start believing in himself the way Carlos did. 

“I’d have to leave the team,” he said softly, “I wouldn’t be working with them anymore. We’re like a family, I can’t just leave them.” 

Carlos reached across the table to take TK’s hand in his own, “It’s not like you’d be leaving the station,” he reminded him, “you’d still be in the same building and on the same schedule. And they’re not going to feel like you abandoned them, Ty, they’ll still be right there. And right here,” he added with a laugh, gesturing towards his living room, “we’ve fed them, I don’t think we are ever going to get rid of them now.” 

That pulled a smile out of TK, but there was still so much doubt in his eyes that it hurt Carlos to see it. 

“What do you think they would say, if you told them it was something you wanted?” he asked instead, “Do you think they would tell you to forget about it? To stay with them because it was more comfortable?” 

“No,” TK said quickly, “of course they wouldn’t.” 

“So why are you worried about them? They want what’s best for you and they always will. Unless,” he hedged when TK’s expression didn’t clear, “they’re not the ones you’re worried about.” TK pulled his gaze up from the table and Carlos saw all the confirmation in them that he needed, “Your dad?” 

TK nodded, and Carlos sighed. “TK…”

“It would be a big change Carlos,” he said softly. “Except for my probationary period, I have always worked with my dad. I don’t want him to take it personally.” 

“But it is a little personal, isn’t it?” 

He was careful to keep his tone even, non-judgemental and he watched TK closely, waiting for his response. 

“Maybe a little, yeah,” TK admitted. “I feel like this would be a way for me to really see who I am without him right there. It’s not like this is a reaction to him or any news he may have shared recently,” he added hastily, “I would hope I’m past the ‘blowing my life up to piss off my dad’ point, but it is something to consider. And…” 

He trailed off, but Carlos had a feeling he knew what was going to come next, “And you’re worried he might take it personally?” he suggested. 

TK nodded and Carlos sighed and set down his fork, reaching across the table again to pull both of TK’s hands into his own, “Look,” he began, “what’s important is why you’re thinking about this. So, what is it? Why are you thinking about becoming a paramedic?” 

“Because I think I’d love it,” TK said without any hesitation, “because I feel like it’s the best way I can help people.” 

Carlos smiled at him, squeezing the hands in his grasp softly, “Then I think you have your answer. You should do this because it is what you want and because it is right for you. That’s all that matters. Everything else - and everyone else - will fall into place.” 

“And if they don’t?” TK asked softly, and Carlos felt a pang in his heart at the sound of so much doubt in the other man’s voice. 

“They will,” Carlos assured him. “Nothing ever stays the same, remember? And your dad knows that. We all know that. And,” he added, leaning forward in his seat to close some of the distance between them, “I will be here for you, every step of the way. No matter what.”  

The smile TK gave him warmed every inch of his body. They sat in companionable silence for a while, intertwined hands connecting them across the table until TK spoke again. 

“If you really mean that,” he began with a grin, “I could probably use some help with my resume.” 

“Anything for you,” Carlos quipped back, but even as he said the words he squeezed their clasped hands. He meant that, in every way possible. He would be here for resumes and job interviews and everything in between, as long as TK wanted him to be. 

Judging by the way TK met his eyes, and the soft ‘thank you’ that fell from his lips, he had a feeling he felt the same way too. 

[wolf-pearl]

@aimeelouart I have finally finished writing the summary of that SSC au I mentioned on ao3.

This AU is based on the First's theories about Cloud. Basically, what if they were right with their assumptions? 

Zack is an early SOLDIER prototype and legendary 1st Class who got disappeared pre the Trio's time. His existence was completely erased. Zack was enhanced using only mako, no jenova cells. When the jenova cell infused mako treatment was found to result in greater enhancement than mako treatment alone, Zack was viewed as obsolete. 

Made obsolete by new j-cell SOLDIERS, combined with Hojo wanting to make way for Sephiroth to rise through the ranks, and fear that Zack's sway over the SOLDIERs would lead to mass insubordination in the event that Zack objected to ShinRa's immoral agendas became reasons for Zack to be disappeared and handed over to the science department. Zack was handed over to the science department by his own men, the betrayal resulting in his scorn for the SOLDIER program. 

Cloud was created to be a SOLDIER killer. President ShinRa, after seeing that there really wasn't any way to stop the SOLDIERs if they decided to turn against the company, orders Hojo to create some form of failsafe in the event that any SOLDIER turned against ShinRa. Cloud has been conditioned from day one to see SOLDIERs as highly dangerous combatants that will kill him if he can't neutralize them fast enough, and eliminating them is the job expected of him by Hojo and ShinRa. 

Zack was brought in at first to be Cloud's first real SOLDIER to kill. Problem was, Cloud was TINY at the time, and thus can't win that fight. Zack refuses to harm Cloud, because, you know, he's a literal child. So what was intended to be a fight to the death devolves into Zack giving Cloud pointers on his foot work and sword technique. Hojo sees the value in keeping Zack around to teach Cloud, as who's better to teach the boy how to fight SOLIDERs than an actual SOLDIER? On top of that, it has the added bonus of further instilling a distrust of SOLDIERS into Cloud. And so Hojo decides to keep Zack around for Cloud to practice fighting and to teach Cloud. (Don't be fooled, Hojo still absolutely plans on having Cloud kill Zack. He simply has moved that back as a potential final test before announcing Cloud as ready for deployment.) 

Cloud's actual name given to him by Hojo is Cumulonimbus. Upon hearing that, Zack declared that that was a terrible name for a kid, and started calling the boy Cloud instead. Cloud reacted poorly to the firsts calling him Cloud because that is Zack's name for him. Zack is the only person Cloud truly trusts, so the name Zack gave him is only for people he trusts. 

Cloud leveled his materia himself. They wanted him to have a full arsenal to take down rogue SOLDIERS. So, he's been using them since the moment he could. The fusion blade also belongs to Cloud. They put him through tests to see what all of his limit breaks are, and then designed the fusion sword to complement his final limit break, omnislash. 

Cloud was kept in the lab in Nibelheim. This meant that he was always in relative close proximity to Jenova. As such, Cloud has been subjected to Jenova's mind fuckery for his entire life. When Jenova first started reaching out to Cloud's mind it was simply to figure out what he was. Then she made Cloud's life hell. Cloud had to learn quickly how to block her out. This is why Cloud knows all the tricks to blocking out the crazy alien. This also means that Cloud has been getting visions of the future for most of his life.

Cloud wasn't meant to ever be in view of the public, or interact with civilians at all. The only people he was planned to interact with were his handlers and the SOLDIERS he was sent to eliminate. As such, there was no need to condition him to behave, hold his tongue, or be a poster boy like Sephiroth. The only behavior that mattered was following direct orders and returning to his handlers once his objective is complete.

Cloud recognizes the Buster sword because it used to be Zack's sword. It wasn't taken away from Zack when he was first brought in as they had intended to throw him into combat. After that he was allowed to keep it in order to further Cloud's lessons with him. Cloud knows how to tend to the Buster sword so expertly because he did so relatively often back in the labs. The scientists learned to use promises of extra time with Zack as an incentive for Cloud, and much of those bonus times were spent talking with Zack as they cared for the sword. Eventually the buster sword gets taken away from Zack as punishment for "bad behavior" - probably an escape attempt or attempting to interfere with one of the inhumane tests Cloud is put through. Zack assumes that it was melted down after being taken away. In reality, the Buster sword is given to Angeal. One of the last SOLDERS who served under, remembers, and still holds loyalty to Zack was the one who delivered the Blade to Angeal. The SOLDIER tells Angeal that the Buster Sword belonged to an honorable man who had no one to pass it onto, and that Angeal's dedication to dreams and honor reminded the SOLDIER of that man. Angeal was never told the name of the blade's original wielder.

Ribbon belonged to Zack. He had hid it from the scientists. Zack first gave it to Cloud after a nasty round of experiments involving status conditions. He had somehow braided it into Cloud’s hair. He gave it to Cloud permanently after the boy had clung to it like a security blanket. Knowing that the Ribbon was probably the first object that Cloud ever used as a security blanket, Zack vows that once they escape he will get Cloud an actual plushie. With ribbons of its own. 

During a time when Hojo is back in midgar, Zack breaks out of his cell, snags Cloud, and makes a break for it. They end up being forced to barricade themselves into a chamber that has a bunch of coffins. They find Vincent who takes one look at Cloud and decides that his sins can wait, there is a child right here who needs his help and he can help. Vincent and Zack tear through the scientists that are on site and scavenge what travel essentials they can from the lab along with the equipment that was made for Cloud, before making their escape with Cloud.

Somehow Cloud gets separated from Zack and Vincent, and decides to set out to destroy Jenova and burn the mansion to the ground. At this point Hojo is aware that something has gone wrong, and so Genesis is sent to Nibelheim, ostensibly to check an energy disturbance in the area. In reality he's been sent to retrieve Cloud, but he isn't told that. 

The outfit the Firsts find Cloud in is part of Zack’s old uniform. Cloud was pretty much only given hospital gowns and scrubs to wear by the scientists. When Zack and Cloud escaped Cloud’s clothes - which were nothing more than a hospital gown and scrub pants - got completely ruined. Zack wrapped Cloud up in his own outfit because while Zack was able to find extra clothes that fit himself in the lab, there wasn’t any kid clothes in the lab. Cloud ends up in Zack’s sleeveless turtleneck and pants, but Zack keeps the pieces that wouldn’t do Cloud any good for himself. This does mean that the outfit Cloud is wearing at the start is a little different than in ssc. Zack is smart enough to know that putting his massive steel toed boots on a small child is not going to do Cloud any good. So when Genesis finds Cloud the boy is not in a complete comically oversized ensemble with that skirt thing, the single shirtless sleeve, belts and all. Instead Gen finds a small bare foot child wearing a quarter turtleneck that's falling off his shoulders, a pair of already baggy pants that look like ufo pants on the kid, and a sword harness with an absolutely obnoxiously big sword. (Gen has a freak out when he sees Cloud standing in knee high snow without any footwear, because seriously how long has this kid been wandering around in below freezing temperatures barefoot, he could lose his toes.)

How did Cloud even get separated from Zack and Vincent, and how did he make his way back to Nibelheim from wherever they had fled to? Simple: don't ask me questions I don't have an explanation for yet.

Zack and Vincent are desperately trying to find Cloud. The First Class trio don't realize that they are being hunted down by two very protective, skilled, and enhanced individuals who are hell bent on getting Cloud back.

Because this AU removes (most of) the time travel aspects, Cloud’s reasons for being afraid of Sephiroth are different. One cause of Cloud’s fear of Sephiroth is that Cloud has been having nightmares and visions of the future for basically as long as he can remember. On top of this, Cloud also has been conditioned to think that the greatest threat he might ever have to fight is Sephiroth, as he’s the top SOLDIER. Hojo drove this point home by forcing Cloud to fight simulations of Sephiroth, and would punish Cloud if he failed to beat it. Hojo also constantly forced Cloud through intense experiments and enhancements to “bring his capabilities up to be equivalent to Sephiroth”, inadvertently causing Cloud to associate any mention of Sephiroth and/or Sephiroth’s continued improvement with being subjected to another barrage of experiments. However, Cloud probably won't be as afraid of Sephiroth in this AU as he is in SSC. Yes Cloud would still be afraid of Sephiroth, and yes Cloud would still be more afraid of Seph than he is of Genesis or Angeal. However without the time travel aspect from the original fic, Cloud just won’t have enough reason to be as afraid of Sephiroth as he is in ssc. In this AU Cloud’s more afraid of what Sephiroth represents (the visions of the future, the ultimate threat Cloud may have to face, and further experimentation) than he is of Sephiroth as a person.

Sephiroth could earn Cloud's trust through showing Cloud that Hojo had hurt him too. Sephiroth understands what it means to be hurt by Hojo. 

You still want time travel elements? Well you’re in luck because I have three options for that.

1) Cloud time traveled version 1: In the first time line, he escaped with Zack, but Zack ultimately got killed. Cloud takes Zack’s outfit to remember him by, and stays out of the reach of ShinRa, builds a life for himself as a mercenary. At some point during the years during mercenary work Cloud stumbles upon the Buster sword on a cliff in the midgar wastes. As Angeal had no protegee, he had neither a student to order to cut him down or anyone to pass the Buster sword onto. Angeal died while leaning against the flat of the blade that he had struck into the earth in an attempt to keep himself propped up. Cloud recognizes the Buster sword and takes it with him. He doesn’t learn how the Buster got on the cliff after it was taken from Zack. Cloud spends his years as a mercenary drifting to wherever his jobs take him, and for the most part ignoring the events that shake ShinRa such as the Nibelheim incident and the mass defections. He stays far away from anything to do with ShinRa up until he takes a job from AVALANCHE. From there Cloud follows an altered version of cannon events. When Cloud time traveled, he got sent back to when he was a kid in the labs with Zack, the only things he brought back from the future are his rare summon materia as well as his Master Materia, those really being the main equipment he got after the labs. This would mean Cloud being small doesn’t necessarily have to be because of Jenova.

2) Cloud time traveled version 2: Zack escapes with Cloud pre crisis core, but ultimately gets apprehended by Sephiroth, who was sent to recapture “escaped experiments”. Sephiroth kills Zack, and Cloud is returned to Hojo (this gives an alternate reason behind Cloud calling Sephiroth “murderer” in chapter 3). Cloud continues to be experimented on and is sent on his first mission during the events of crisis core to go after the SOLDIERs who defected with Genesis. Cloud is eventually sent after and successfully takes down Genesis and Angeal. Cloud doesn’t recognize them after time traveling at first due to how advanced their degradation was when he fought them on top of his memories of that time in his life being unclear. Cloud does recognize that the sword Angeal has is the Buster sword and takes it with him. All Sephiroth learns about the deaths of his friends is that they were taken down by “a classified project designed for this exact type of scenario”. When the Nibelheim incident occurs, Sephiroth was sent with a random SOLDIER first. Cloud was sent to investigate to see if the accompanying first went rogue after the team sent to Nibelheim fails to report in and ShinRa hears of a disturbance in the area. Cloud arrives to find the village burning and the unnamed First (along with everyone else) killed by Sephiroth. Following orders to eliminate any rogue SOLDEIRs along with recognizing Sephiroth as the person who killed Zack, Cloud kills the silver General. Hojo is furious when he arrives, demanding why Cloud would kill Sephiroth, to which Cloud retorts that he followed his orders as given to him by ShinRa and the Professor himself. His orders were to eliminate any rogue SOLDEIRs, and Sephiroth had gone rogue. Hojo takes offence to this, and as punishment he tries to experiment Cloud into oblivion for 4 years. Hojo leaves Cloud in a mako tank after the creations of the Sephiroth clones, and he reasons once Sephiroth returns there will be no more need for Cloud. Cloud escapes, equipping himself with his gear from his time as ShinRa’s SOLDIER killer but opts to wear Zack’s outfit that was kept in the lab’s storage after his death. Cloud makes his way to midgar where he joins up with AVALANCHE, and from there the story follows along an altered version of the cannon events. As a side note, I’m not entirely sure how this one would work out with the time line and character ages, so this one may require some fudging of the characters ages to make sense? Idk, I really don’t understand the timeline of FF7. I think that using Cloud’s canon age would make him 14 maybe 15 when he takes down Genesis and Angeal. Considering that Hojo sent Sephiroth to Wutai at around the same age, it could work. 

3) Zack is the time traveler. In the original timeline, Zack doesn’t manage to escape the labs and ends up dying before Cloud gets to see. Zack ends up following Cloud around as a ghost and is powerless to do anything as Cloud struggles through his time as ShinRa’s SOLDIER killer, and then dealing with the events of meteor fall, geostigma, etc. the Planet ultimately cant recover, so it Sends Zack back in time to prevent the disasters from ever happening. Zack is sent back to early on in his time with Cloud in the Labs. Zack makes a point of reiterating how dangerous Sephiroth is to Cloud, and this time succeeds in escaping the labs with Cloud by enlisting Vincent’s help (Zack learned of Vincent through waiting over Cloud as a ghost). While Zack was sent back in time to save the planet, He acknowledges to himself that his real motivation behind doing this isn’t to be a hero, he just wants to take care of his Cloudy. Zack absolutely freaks out when he gets separated from Cloud. He’s on a warpath to get his adoptive son back. When Zack catches up to the three Firsts Cloud’s probably going to have to talk Zack down from outright eviscerating them for daring to touch Cloud. 

[whimperwoods]

Oswin - The Archdevil

Part 2 of a new series about Oswin Greystone, wizard con man and deeply unfortunate man.

So anyway, yeah, the captain of the guard wants a pet wizard. Things are not looking great for poor Oswin. They’re not looking great in his own series, now, because this is long enough to need a readmore. Let me know if you want to be on a taglist and I’ll start one. I’m not sure how much of this there will be, but he and his creepy captain really grabbed my imagination, so certainly there will be some more after this.

Continuation of this post.

tw: abuse, tw: abuse of authority, tw: fantasy police brutality (though he’s kind of stopped pretending to be acting as a cop at this point), tw: fantasy devil worship, tw: pet whump (working toward it anyway), tw: devil contracts

*****

Oswin’s legs couldn’t hold him, but the whip that had nearly killed him was back in the guard captain’s hand, so he kept dragging himself along beside him, crawling awkwardly forward on his good hand and his knees and nearly tangling himself up in the robes that, with the back sliced open, hung down in his way, barely attached to him anymore.

At the bottom of the steep, winding staircase, Oswin’s limbs were already quaking, and he let out a soft whimper that made his throat ache.

The captain moved around him and squatted down in front of his head, cupping his face in one hand. “First choice, pet. You’re going up two flights of stairs, up to my chambers over the main office. You may crawl, you may be dragged, or you may be carried. I spent too much on that healing potion to hope for dragging, but you’ll need to be a very good boy if I carry you.”

Oswin’s brain couldn’t catch up. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. This wasn’t how people talked. It wasn’t how people were. Except - wasn’t it? He’d been in the courts of petty, tyrannical lords before, on occasion. He’d watched men who could get away with it pinch serving women and belittle servants and - and perhaps that was what this man thought was happening. Perhaps he thought Oswin a servant, or likely to become one. And without Oswin’s books available to him, maybe he was right.

Oswin wanted to look down, to avert his eyes, but his time when he tried, the captain kept a steel grip on his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. They were dark, a brown that tended toward gray, without any of the warmth of his own, and hard as stones. He swallowed heavily, the pain in his throat insignificant next to the pain still raging across his back, but still easily made worse.

It had been hard enough getting himself to the foot of the stairs, and he couldn’t imagine breathing or moving would be easier on an incline.

“I can be a good boy, Master,” he whispered.

The captain smiled. “Clever. I’ll have to keep my eye on that. But then, I knew you would be. Come on, put your arms around my neck.”

Oswin knew he was a little underfed, but the captain picked him up like it was nothing. The pressure of the captain’s arm across his ruined back felt white-hot, and he cried out hoarsely as he wrapped his arms around the captain’s neck and tried to hold himself up, away from the contact. He wasn’t strong enough, and had to settle back into his new master’s grip, his eyes filling with tears and his breath growing ragged again.

“That doesn’t sound like being a good boy,” the captain whispered into his ear, a low half-growl, “That sounds like complaining when you’re being done a favor.”

Oswin forced himself to breathe through the pain, to catch his breath, to talk. His voice came out strained, and barely above a whisper. “No, Master, please! I’m grateful! I just -” he grunted in pain, in spite of himself, “I just needed to adjust but now I can be - I can be fully grateful, Master, please.”

He wasn’t sure he’d ever begged so much in one day, but this time it seemed to work, or at least, his master didn’t drop him down the stairs. Instead, the captain started climbing, not winded no the stairs even carrying Oswin’s weight. Oswin shivered in the man’s arms. He’d hoped during his whipping, before his mind fully abandoned him, that the beating would stop when the captain grew tired, but he was certain now that that hadn’t been the case.

He’d been in dangerous spots before, but this time - this time he couldn’t afford the sob that threatened to rise up in his throat, so he buried his face in the side of the captain’s neck, clinging more tightly so that the man wouldn’t think he had any thought of trying to get away.

The captain’s pleased little hum made the pressure behind Oswin’s eyes spike, but he couldn’t afford the tears, so he focused instead on his breathing, on keeping it steady, on leaning into the captain’s grip so as not to fall, and then they were at the top of the stairs and his master was still carrying him, his footsteps steady as he walked through a small receiving room, a smaller office, which was little more than a closet with a desk in it, and into a sparsely-decorated bedroom.

The captain set Oswin down on the floor, just inside the door, and Oswin watched as he pulled an old, soft-looking rug to the side and revealed a set of sigils carved into the floor in circles, which he calmly traced over in chalk, reinforcing them.

Oswin’s skin crawled, and his stomach soured, but he knew he had no hope of making it down the stairs, much less out of the building, without being caught and, presumably, tortured to death.

The captain retrieved a set of fine wax candles, more expensive than Oswin would have expected in a room like this, and Oswin thought, passively, that a quick death might have been worth it, but that wasn’t what he’d been promised.

The captain lit most of the candles and then came toward Oswin, manhandling him into the center of the circle without a word, and then arranging him on his knees, barking a single order: “Kneel.”

Oswin’s hands were bound behind his back, and he hung his head, not sure if he was going for deferential, or just for too pathetic to hurt again. Either way, the effort of staying upright soon took all of his attention, so that he hardly noticed the final candle being lit.

An enormous, winged figure stepped into the room, out of nowhere. He seemed to fill the space entirely, then shrunk down to merely looming, a head and a half taller than the guard captain and clearly strong enough to break either of them in half.

Oswin’s master was beside him, and knelt, too, albeit only on one knee, bowing deeply to the archdevil.

As the captain’s back straightened, the devil said, “Rise. Why do you request an audience, my champion?”

The captain got to his feet, but then bowed again, still standing. “I humbly propose an addendum to my contract, Master.”

Oswin’s mouth dried instantly. Power radiated from the archdevil like nothing he’d ever felt before, and his voice dripped with it. Was this fool really going to try to negotiate with it?

The archdevil laughed. “I already own your soul, child. What else is left to offer?”

The captain gestured toward Oswin. “His, for a start.”

Oswin looked up in surprise, and instantly regretted it. It had been one thing to sneak glances at the archdevil through his eyelashes; it was another to look directly up at him, meeting a pair of terrifying eyes that seemed made entirely of fire.

“You think you can make contracts with other people’s souls?”

“I can if you’re willing to agree to my terms - what I want is his soul, but not to keep, of course. I’m happy to cede it back to you the moment he dies. And my original contract stipulated that I was willing to work for you, but not to proselytize. It was a point of contention at the time, if I recall, but I told you I would not be certain enough to promise such a thing, outside myself, for some years. It has been ‘some years,’ Master, and I’m happy to find you new followers, provided that it does not jeopardize the other work I do for you.”

“And your interest in his soul?” the devil asked, still looking Oswin in the eye. Oswin found himself paralyzed, unable to look away. Under that devilish gaze, he felt like his chest was being torn apart, his insides pulled out and studied, even though no one was touching him.

“I’ve always wanted a pet wizard,” the captain said casually, “Call it professional curiosity. I know my magic is yours, of course, Master, but I’d like to study those humans who do it on their own - and I’d like to harness it. I won’t be learning myself, of course. I know where my skills lie, and the purpose you’d have me put them to. But I don’t like the idea of humans with power, and I want this one under my thumb, where I can learn to tear those apart.”

Oswin was shaking, the wounds across his back pulsing again, agonizing, while the devil’s eyes continued to rove over his front. He felt like a bug, pinned to a scientist’s paper, but the paper was burning, too, acidic and deadly.

“And why this one?” The devil’s eyes suddenly left him, turning their full force on the captain, and Oswin sagged forward, gasping for breath.

“This one’s a very interesting case,” the captain said. “No respect for a contract, which I’m hoping to beat out of him, but for once I had a wizard in my sights who wasn’t blatantly dangerous, and I thought I’d make good on the opportunity. He’s been selling counterfeit spell scrolls, and then disappearing to ply his trade somewhere else in town before his victims actually try to read or copy the damned things. The thing is, we know he’s strong enough that he could make the real thing, were he properly - motivated. He’s useful, but in need of - management.”

The archdevil hummed thoughtfully, and the captain added, “In our attempts to capture him, he displayed quite a bit of power and - spunk. I know better than to think I could control him without your direct assistance, my lord. But I hope to use him in your service.” He bowed again, more quickly this time.

The archdevil stepped forward into the circle, which Oswin had really been hoping he couldn’t do, and reached down, raising Oswin’s chin to make him look into those flaming eyes again, and nearly lifting him off the ground by the head as he did it.

“And I suppose it doesn’t hurt that he’s a pretty little thing, hmm?” the devil asked, his flame eyes flicking quickly to the captain and back.

The man chuckled. “No, my lord. It does not. Nor does it hurt that he’s already proven he breaks beautifully. You should have heard him begging earlier.”

“We will negotiate the details without him,” the archdevil said imperiously, “It’s simpler that way. And he can agree or refuse.”

Oswin was nearly hyperventilating in the devil’s grip.

“I’m not sure which I think is more interesting,” the devil added casually, before letting go of Oswin’s face and waving his hand in a pattern too quick for even Oswin’s practiced eyes to follow. A blanket of silence fell over him and he could hear nothing, not even his own breathing, for so long that he found himself collapsed inward before the sound returned, bowed low, with his forehead on the floor and his chest and stomach cushioned against his legs, where he could feel the rise and fall of the breaths he couldn’t hear and know that he was still alive.

He realized he was sobbing in dry, heaving gasps only when sound came rushing back to his ears, but he wasn’t sure how long he had been doing it.

“Very well,” the archdevil said, “Lift his head. I want to look him in the eyes again.”

The captain’s hands forced Oswin upward, tilting his head back to make him look up at the looming devil.

“Oswin the wizard,” the archdevil said, power already crackling in his voice in a way that seemed to bind up the air in Oswin’s lungs. “I assume there’s a surname that goes with that.”

“G-greystone, my lord,” Oswin said, the answer tearing out of him in spite of his dry mouth and aching throat, “My father was a mason, but thought to better himself, or at least our family.”

“Hmm, well, now you’ll be in service of a captain of the city guard - and of me. It seems he’ll be getting his wish.”

Oswin shuddered. The archdevil’s voice was oil-smooth, but so, so dangerous. He nodded wordlessly, knowing better than to disagree.

“Should you agree to cosign this addendum with my champion,” the archdevil continued, “You will be bound, body and soul, to his service. Your soul will be mine, to be delivered upon your permanent death. You will be marked as mine, but you will not receive any of my power, nor will you be allowed to use yours outside of your master’s orders.”

The archdevil’s mouth quirked upward into a smile. “I should warn you, wizard, this is an extremely bad deal for you. But my champion assures me that you are a genuine affront to order, and that whether you sign or not, you will be brought to heel. Or you could choose to be tortured to death. But you should know that your master’s contract with me stipulates that if you do not cooperate, he may kill you up to five times and have you returned to his care to try again. I have never seen a man strong enough to withstand being tortured to death a third time, much less a fourth. I’m afraid a bad deal is the only one you’ve got.”

Oswin’s mind swam. He was trapped again, pinned by those eyes, and he was burning, he was sure of it. His mind felt like it was caught in an earthquake, struggling to run to safety with the land bucking underneath him. Just as he took in a breath to speak, the archdevil interrupted him.

“Do not think you can make a deal of your own with me, instead, Oswin Greystone. This one likes a challenge, and he is a useful servant. I don’t make contracts with the desperate. Not worth the work of keeping an eye on them. Break his hold on you, and I will let the consequences be what they will. But try to take your soul back from me and I will destroy you where you stand. I do not have the patience to shepherd one who is reluctant.”

The captain held up a knife. “This agreement will be sealed in blood, or not at all. What do you choose, submission or death?”

The archdevil’s eyes had not left him. Gods, he was burning up. He knew with complete certainty that death, even drawn out, would mean facing this devil again, would mean those flaming eyes burning into him, that oil-slick voice talking to him, that crackling, unbearable power licking at the edges of his own, and he’d just wind up right back here again, waiting to be tortured.

What escaped his lips was a sob, and not an agreement, but the archdevil looked away, making a soft noise of satisfaction. “He chooses submission. Bring the parchment.”

[padawanlost]

People often talk about Anakins failings as a Jedi, so how about somethings he was better than them at. Was there ever things (non-Jedi things) that people appreciated him for? Did his loyalty and emotion ever help someone, or make them feel better? Just, some ways in which Anakin being a bad Jedi, ended up making things better.

You asked me there’s any non-jedi trait Anakin excelled at I’d argue Anakin excelled at the most Jedi trait of all: compassion. Unlike the great Jedi masters of his time, who talked a big game about compassion, Anakin actually cared about the people he met and tried his best to connect and help them. But I’m not going to say much about this, I’ll just show you the receipts.

When Anakin and Obi-wan find a captive woman who has been physically abuse, this is what happens:

He was polite:

Anakin was looking relieved. “Water would be greatly appreciated, thank you. Food, too, but I’ll wait for Obi-Wan to come back before I eat.” She crossed to the small kitchen table, put down the precious holoprojector, then nodded at the commercial-sized conservator her keepers had so kindly given her. “It’s entirely up to you. The water’s in there. Help yourself to as much as you like.” He drank three full bottles, hardly taking a breath. Noticing her surprise, he shrugged. “Sorry. My manners aren’t usually that bad. It’s just—it’s been a long, hard day.” “I can tell,” she said, disposing of the emptied bottles down her makeshift kitchen’s waste chute. “You should sit down. If you don’t mind me saying so, you look tired.” He considered his filthy clothes. “Are you sure? I don’t want to dirty the furniture.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

He was supportive and unfailingly kind:

“Oh. That’s right.” There was still dried blood on her fingers, and a dull, throbbing pain in her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not normally this stupid. I just—” And then she felt her face crumple and heard herself sob. Her knees buckled and she began to sink toward the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she choked. “Don’t mind me. I’m fine.”

He caught her before she tumbled completely. Lifted her without effort and carried her to the sofa. Boneless and unprotesting, she let him. Let her face turn to his roughly shirted, dirty chest and howled her rage and shame against him. Dimly, she felt his hand warm and comforting on her back and heard his soft voice saying, over and over, “It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re safe now. It’s all right.” The crazy thing was that she did feel safe. For the first time since those Separatist blaster bolts seared the air and sand of Niriktavi Bay, since she saw her friends and colleagues slaughtered, she felt safe. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

He helped her with her wounds:

“Don’t apologize,” [Anakin] said gently. “You’ve got a right to be upset. Now, where’s that medkit?”

“In the refresher.” She pointed. “Through there. Top shelf above the sink. But please, don’t bother. It’s nothing. I can—”

Standing, he frowned down at her. “It’s not nothing. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Even if she’d wanted to, she didn’t think she could move. Hope had vanished, leaving despair in its wake. Leaving her empty of everything save pain. Her eyes felt scrubbed raw. “Right,” said Anakin, returning with the medkit. “Here we go. And I’ll say sorry in advance, because I’m probably going to hurt you.”

Again, that extraordinary sense of being small, a child, as he carefully wiped the blood and tears from her face, cleaned the bruised, throbbing cut on her forehead with antiseptic, and lightly pressed a steriseal over it. “You’re very good at this,” she murmured. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

He was gentle:

Taking them, she looked up at him and shook her head, even though it still ached. “It’s odd. You’re nothing like I expected.”

“Why?” he said, perching on the edge of the nearby chair. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” she said, floundering. “I can’t say I’ve ever given the Jedi much thought. I mean, not as individuals. I never expected to meet one—let alone two. I don’t tend to go places where your skills are needed. But—well—you’re gentle.” That made him smile. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

She sat down again. “I understand. This is war. You have to look at the big picture. You can’t afford to see the little people.” Scurrying like rodents. Sacrificed for the greater good.

“That’s not true!” Anakin protested. “That’s what the big picture is. Lots and lots and lots of little people. You matter, Bant’ena. The friends you lost on Taratos Four, they matter. We’re fighting this war so no more like them will die.”

He was very sweet. Very young. Full of grand ideals and breathtaking, intuitive compassion. She looked at Master Kenobi. Now, there was a pragmatist, a man possessed of a scientist’s soul. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

When Anakin runs into a planet where the population has been enslaved:

As for the native Lanteebans, they were easy to pick out. Hunched and nervous, skittishly aware of their armed supervisors, they were the ones lasering and sweeping and riveting and hammering and sweating to upgrade the spaceport to their new masters’ specifications. They wore nothing but overalls and sandals. No protective eye goggles. No steel-capped boots. No sensor-harnesses to protect them from a fall. The indifference to their safety was breathtaking … and at the same time, unsurprising. Their fearful misery muddied the atmosphere. Beside him, Anakin muttered something. Not in Basic. His outrage was palpable, a red shimmer in the Force. Oh no. Not now.

“Anakin …”

“Look at them!” Anakin retorted, low-voiced. “They’ve been turned into slaves!”

“I know. It’s irrelevant. Focus on why we’re here.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

He was generous even with his dreams:

When the war was over he’d go back to Tatooine and see. When the war was over he’d buy any child he found enslaved to Watto and find them a home where they might live and love in safety. Belonging to no one but themselves. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

When Anakin runs into a group of poor kids playing in the street:

“Just like Mos Espa’s slave quarter,” Anakin said under his breath. “Everybody knows everybody else and nothing much stays secret.” Obi-Wan nudged him with an elbow. Not now. They’d accumulated a gaggle of children, who seemingly had nothing better to do than tag along in the newcomers’ wake, giggling and whispering and kicking a soggily inflated synthafibe ball.

[…]Grinning, without bothering to ask if he might, or if it were wise, or if they had the time to spare, so independent these days, Anakin jogged to join them. After a moment’s amazed hesitation the children welcomed him with squeals of delight, rough-and-tumbled him into their midst and made him one of their own.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “He’s nice,” said the girl with the bracelet and the ragged hair, wandering over to stand beside him. “Don’t be cross with him, Teeb Yavid.”

[…]“But—” Gathering his thoughts, disciplining himself, he watched Anakin scoop up one small excited boy, too young to kick the ball, and zoom him overhead like a fighter chasing a vulture droid. The boy nearly sickened himself with laughing. “Greti, are you saying—”

[…]“So that was merely a cynical exercise in the manipulation of a local populace?”

“Oh, no,” said Anakin, grinning. “It was fun too.”

May the Force give me strength. “And that business with the boy? Because when I said no heavy lifting I—”

Anakin’s amusement vanished. “He wasn’t heavy. These younglings are skin and bone. I look at them and—” He clenched his jaw. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege]

And this is just a few examples from ONE book series. The EU (TCW and the movies) are filled with moments of Anakin caring deeply for people he barely knows (TPM, anyone?) as the Jedi stand back and chastise him for caring too much. It’s so unfair that people forget that Anakin wasn’t always cruel and selfish. They forget that for a long time Anakin was of the few Jedi who actually acted on the compassion all Jedi were supposed to possess.

Anakin Skywalker didn’t become a heroic figure during the war only because he was a good fighter. He was a good person too. A person who cared about people as individuals. And the sad part is that people forget this compassion and caring attitude wasn’t learn from the Jedi, it was learned from Shmi Skywalker. A person that also acted on her words about being kind and generous:

“Helping others isn’t always easy, is it? If people paid us to be good, the galaxy would be overflowing with kindness. But most of the time there isn’t much reward, and sometimes it even costs us dearly to do good things. Yeah. What if it costs so much that it hurts? I think we should do it anyway. Make it a habit, like eating or breathing. Once you do, you’ll hardly even notice the cost.” Star Wars Episode I Adventures: The Ghostling Children by Dave Wolverton

Anakin and Shmi’s generosity, kindness and compassion was real and truly heroic and, imo, it’s the most important trait a Jedi should possess. Ahat’s why I think Anakin had everything he needed to be a great Jedi. He had everything else too: kindness, compassion, fighting skills, etc.  the only ‘trait’ he lacked was the acceptance and support of his superiors.

[yoekko-novels]

[To Touch The Skies] Is It a Crime? #001

Magic-Users and The Holders of Strong. Two kinds of people existed in this world, the ones who could touch the heavens and the ones who could only view it from beneath. Magic users lived in a utopia, created by the Three Divine Mages, also known as the 3 Goddesses of Arupio. Eeara, Aaura, and Haaura; Aaura gave Magic-Users the ability to see the life essence of other Magic-Users, this skill was named, “Eyes of the Angels.”

Aaura created the mountains, the clouds, and even the ground the Strong Holders walked upon. Aaura was a perfectionist and an artist, she painted the landscape so that no one would ever run out of inspiration to create their own worlds. It was a portrait of sorts that most were welcome to draw inspiration from.

Eeara gave Magic-Users the ability to hear the whispers of sprites, fairies, and in extreme cases, they could hear spirits and even exorcise them. Some can even hear into the future to a certain extent if their soul is pure, although, it is a rarity for that power to be wielded by anyone.

Eeara turned air into wind and gave the world sound, so all could hear the beauty of her creations. She gave the world an ocean in order for people to hear the waves of serenity crash against the soil. All used to be silent before Eeara gave the world soul. Eeara was a musician, she wanted her people to know songs of hope. Songs that could invigorate even the most flustered soul, her wish was for her chosen people to hear a song that could soothe their souls.

The last of the three was Haaura, she allowed Magic-Users to harness the power of magic. Haaura was the strongest of the three of them, the sole benefactor for all magic that exists today. Haaura wanted all people to have the right to magic, however, her sisters did not agree with her reasoning. In order to stop Haaura from giving power to all, she was sealed away by her sisters in a sneak attack and locked away.

Haaura cried out from her binding as her anger continued to increase with her anguish as she realized that the world she had wished for would never be brought to fruition. Unable to die, and unable to live, Haaura did the only thing she could. She waited for the day she would be freed from her bindings.

However, before Haaura had been sealed away, she managed to give a small amount of power to a young man on the planet that she’d hoped to cultivate. The power wasn’t much at all, however, it wasn’t the amount of power that mattered, if the boy trained himself, and learned the ways of the land, his seedling of power could one day grow into a tree that could give life to many more.

The power she’d given to the young boy was only false hope for her, a way to keep her from losing her sanity, a chance for her to be saved. She knew the odds of being rescued were slim to none yet she sent it anyways. The single drop of power came along with a message that only the wielder of the power could read.

“Grow strong, free your world from its bindings and fly to the heavens; Only then will you learn the truth of your existence. Break every chain, young warrior.” This message had been ingrained inside of a boy. He was a Strong Holder who lived on the ground like all of his peers. The name of the boy was Hubrid, a slave name given to him by the people who owned him.

The Strong Holders had no divine figures to look up to. They were merely slaves that were forced to pick grains and farmed in order to please the people of the clouds, the Magic-Users. They transported the vegetables and cattle from the ground unto the clouds every month while leaving the stronger slaves to watch over the weaker ones. It was a vicious cycle, the strong beat the weak, the strong became weak, and the weak became strong only to beat the new weak.

Strong Holders could lift more than a Magic-user when it came down to physical feats and could exert themselves physically more than Magic-users, The only way for Strong Holders to gain power was through physical training.

Mages laughed with gaiety whenever they visited the farms as they saw the lesser beings exerting themselves physically instead of mentally. They’d point and laugh, others would throw food that the Strong Holders would fight over in order to eat it only for the mage to make it disappear after the fighting ceased.

Strong Holders coveted the Magic-Users, their power was so unfathomable and unreachable, so far away like the floating kingdom in the sky they could barely see from their view.

Strong holders would do anything for such power yet they knew nothing they did would be of use. Strong and Magic could never be put together. It would be a disgrace to the two great Goddesses the people worshipped. Tales created by elders used to say dubious things about such a thing being created.

“If a man wielded both Strong and Magic, they could possibly control every element by letting their bodies take the brute of the magics instead of their minds..” -Druchess The Wise.

Duchress removed himself from the kingdom and decided to live a life on the ground in order to be spared from the wrath of the king for his words.

“Although alone Strong is weak and pitiful if it were combined with Magic. Such power could rival the two benevolent Goddesses.” -Omaegius The Philsopher.

He was boiled alive for the words he spoke, formerly known as Omaegius The Philosopher was renowned across Arupio for his studies. He spoke to the king regularly and during one of their talks the king was offended by his speech.

He was stripped of his title and burned slowly in a pot and forced to see all of his studies and books tossed into the fire under the pot to fuel the flames that heated the pot of boiling water.

He was gagged and restrained as he was forced to suffer, however, he managed to slip off the device over his mouth and said his last piece before he silenced himself of his own free will.

“To fear something so preposterous shows how weak-willed a man can be. I forgive you for this pain because now I realize why you tremble so much. I wonder if the rumors were true?” Omaegius says as he closes his eyes with a smile and sits unwaveringly still as he awaits his death.

The king feared the prophecy that had been told to him from a seer long ago. The seer said these words and disappeared because he knew what would happen after he offended the king.

“When the day Strong and Magic come together, you will rue the day you treated those people like ants...”

Those words gnawed at the king day and night, not knowing when the seer’s vision would come true he decided to take action himself.

“Wipe out all of the Strong-Holders at once!” The king shouted at his army as they all began marching down the bridge of clouds that connected the Arupio with the ground. They began stabbing elders, young men and women, and even the slaves they had put in charge of the other slaves.

They relocated their farm and cattle to the clouds as they finished wiping out the Strong Holders.

Hubrid was stabbed through his heart with a magic arrow-like many of his family and friends.

He lay on the ground bleeding as his blood poured into the soul. Haaura felt the magic essence of the young boy fading as she began to feel tears streaming down her face as she realizes that her hope was lost.

“Alright, everyone! Good work, let’s report back to the king at once!” A knight shoots a flare of purple exploding magic into the sky to alert his allies.

Everyone continues back to the bridge that connects their utopia with the ground as a race of people lays on the ground bloodied. Any of the Strong Holders that could have survived the initial attacks were doomed to succumb to the poison magic that was spread across the land.

Hubrid coughs up blood as he gasps for breath, unable to move his vision begins to fade.

“By the power of the third forgotten Goddess, do not allow this boy to die!” A peculiar-looking bearded man says as he stabs his staff into the ground.

Haaura cries, tears of joy. It had been so long since anyone prayed to her. As if she were possessed she shouts back knowing that no one will hear her. “I hear you!” She shouts as she continues crying. “I hear you...” She says with a sniffle as she sits in the corner of her cage in a fetal position.

The ground the staff had been implanted in begins to contort. The color of the grass turns dark and the soil becomes soft. Hubrid finds the power to look at the man who was shouting and see’s a long white beard that’s nearly taller than him. His face looks wrinkled and he appears to be wearing a purple robe with symbols covering the exterior of it.

Haaura's tears fall to the cold concrete of her cell with wet splats and crept down into a crack at the corner of her cell. A singular teardrop manages to touch the crack and it falls through. The droplet falls down from the heavens that sit even higher than Arupio itself, and it falls through the solid clouds that the Magic-Users sit upon, and it continues falling until it touches the staff that the bearded man had put into the soil.

As the tear touches the staff, the soil hardens, and the grass turns into a bright green color. Haaura continues weeping as she wishes she could help the man who prayed to her.

“Thank you for your benevolence, kind Haaura.” The man says as he rips his staff out of the ground and stabs it into the chest of Hubrid.

Hubrid’s gasping stops as he ceases to move.

“Be reborn as the man who’ll break the bindings of this world!” He says as he pushes down harder into the chest of the boy.

A voice speaks to Hubrid as he lays on the ground.

“Grow strong, free your world from its bindings and fly to the heavens; Only then will you learn the truth of your existence. Break every chain, young warrior. Grow strong, free your world from its bindings and fly to the heavens; Only then will you learn the truth of your existence. Break every chain, young warrior. Grow strong, free your world from its bindings and fly to the heavens; Only then will you learn the truth of your existence. Break every chain, young warrior.”

Hubrid awakens in a cold sweat inside of a cavern as he heaves in an attempt to catch his breath.

He had little recollection of what happened, the walls of the caves were jagged enough to draw blood by just looking at them and a makeshift bed made of cold stone was attached to a high-up place on the wall. On top of the bed was the old man and his beard. It nearly reached Hubrid’s face as the old man slept upon it.

Just as Hubrid began to try and talk to the man he jumps off his bed while holding his beard in his hands.

“You’re finally up?” He says with a gruff as obvious dark circles under his eyes are visible to Hubrid.

Hubrid looks at the man in silence as he looks over his body for the wound that’d previously been on his body.

“Where is I, who our yoo?” Hubrid says slowly in an attempt to speak correctly.

“What’s wrong with you’re language boy? You look old enough to speak. How old are you?”

“Fitthen,” Hubrid says as the man looks at him perplexed.

“Well young man, it appears that you have a lot to learn. I’m Druchess, the man who’ll be tutoring you from this day forward! My mission is to train you in order to overthrow the hierarchy of the sky,”

He states proudly as he throws his right hand up pointing at the ceiling as he accidentally drops his beard to the ground. He begins trying to pick it up as Hubrid stares at him with even more confusion.

Slaves like Hubrid are taught only the bare minimum in order for them to do their job efficiently. They were banned from learning too many words and from reading. Although Magic-Users didn’t fear Strong Holders revolting, they did it so that no Strong holder could ever have the potential to match the intellect of a Magic-User.

Druchess sighs as he loses the grip on his beard as it unravels to the ground and looks at Hubrid with annoyance.

“Looks like we’ll have the start from the beginning then,” Druchess says as Hubrid tries to tug on his beard.

Druchess pulls a dusty book out of his robe that reads in bold letters. “Book of Knowledge.”

Druchess then begins to read the book verbatim to Hubrid as he scratches his head in nonplus. As he continues reading the confused look on Hubrids face begins to dissipate as Druchess turns the page.

“Alright, the prologue is out of the way now young man. By the way, what is your name?”

“Hubrid,” He says in a clear and concise manner.

“Well Hubrid, you appear to be a quick learner, you’ll be ready in no time!”

“Weady for waht?” Hubrid says as Druchess closes the book with a sigh.

“Never mind, for now just sit down, and listen to this story. This story tells a tale of the forgotten Goddess Haaura, erased from history under the order of her sisters. If you are who I believe you to be, you’ll understand me despite our language barrier. Now then, I'll teach everything I know.” Druchess says as his beard drops the ground again as he looks at it in annoyance.

[sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-shelby]

Possibly my most epic DnD session yet! (now with sloppy illustrations!)

****Late-game spoilers for Hoard of the Dragon Queen****

I play as Killian Lyle. Level 6 human fighter, eldritch knight, lawful good. +4 str, con. -2 cha. You know the type.

Others in the party are: Rat-Rat, the forest gnome druid. Syrris, the wood-elf rogue. Montagor, the half-elf bard.

So, the last thing Killian did the session before was reenter a tavern our party got kicked out of and try to bribe the tavern keeper to help us get past some baddies. Big tough-looking tavern keeper grabs his weapon. *Roll initiative* End of session.

In Killian’s hands were a shield and a loaf of bread he had recently been served in that tavern. He was alone, the rest of his party discussing plans outside. We all rolled initiative, but only Killian was aware there was going to be combat so far. A couple of the party members got to go first. Basically just wandered town square, taking in surroundings. There are a whole bunch enemy guards nearby, watching, but not picking a fight with the group. 

Killian’s turn. He steps forward and tries to FORCE THE LOAF OF BREAD INTO THE GUYS MOUTH to catch him off-guard and maybe keep him quiet for a second. SMASHING SUCCESS! Guy is unable to stop me from jamming those carbs down his throat and drops his weapon. I bonus action my sword to my hand.

Tavern-keeper’s turn. DM has the guy do a con save to make sure he doesn’t CHOKE TO DEATH AND DIE!  *shit, shit, I didn’t want to kill him!!!* Luckily he saves and is able to clear his airway of bread. He starts swinging fists and misses.

Keep going in initiative order. Guest calls out “HES FIGHTING THE BARTENDER!” Most guests at the tavern flee upstairs, but 2 pull daggers and join in. Montagor the bard hears some commotion and opens the door to see Killian shoving bread down the tavern-keeper’s throat and other people moving in with weapon’s drawn. Tries playing the bagpipes nice and loud for extra diversion, but nat 1′s and pops the bag. Syrris the rogue comes in and starts quietly and *permanently* eliminating anyone attacking with a weapon. Killian tries multiple times to thunk the tavern-keeper on the head with the hilt of his sword well enough to knock him out, but the dude keeps fighting. Poor guy can’t make a single hit though. 

This fight’s going longer than Killian was hoping. He tries a different tactic: INTIMIDATE. Another smashing success. Like a 19 or something, since intimidate is his one charisma-based skill that doesn’t get a negative modifier. BARTENDER GETS A NAT 1! Surrenders. Killian backs off just before the Captain of the group of enemies walks in.

“WHAT”S GOING ON IN HERE!?”

Killian gambles on deception. NAT 20 “Some guys were fighting the tavern-keeper. We helped. They’re dead now.”

Intimidated tavern-keeper nods, says they were going to rob him.

Enemy captain thanks us for protecting his friend and leaves. WOW, DODGED A BULLET THERE!

We head out too, Killian dropping a couple of gold coins for the tavern-keeper as he heads out, and start looking for a good way to get past the guards. We’re trying to get into a GIANT ICE CASTLE that’s about to FLY AWAY. Time’s running out. I’m not sneaky, but we’re about to give it a try, see if our amazing rolls continue. We decide to peek in the giant stable that had HUGE REPTILIAN GROWLS coming from it. This would either be really bad or really good for us. 

Really good! Tied-up wyverns along one wall, riding harnesses on the other. The ice castle begins to take off. Guess we’re doing this! We smell the stink of meat from a nearby building. The rogue is unable to carry a full pig carcass herself. Killian goes to help. NAT 20! Throws a pig over one shoulder, and a sheep over the other and marches off toward the wyverns. Killian has crap animal handling skills, but Rat-Rat the druid doesn’t. Killian keeps the things distracted with bites of meat, Rat-Rat puts the harnesses on them with great success. We climb on, again without incident. And Rat-Rat is apparently a natural-born dragon-rider because he came up with an incredible plan that worked without a hitch. 

Minor-illusion the image of a fat turkey, flying just out of reach of the wyvern. Bard prestidigitation’s the smell of juicy meat coming off the “turkey”. Wyverns were eager to follow. Probably more complicated than it needed to be, but hey, it has pizzazz!

We are able to catch up to the ice castle and land they wyverns near another stable that they seemed trained to fly to. Looking around, ogres and kobolds seem to pay us no mind. Guess randos flying in on the backs of dragon things is a normal sight around here. But as it starts getting dark, creatures seem to hurry their tasks and make their way indoors. We figure we’d better do so as well. Quietly enter the first door we approach. Amazingly, nobody’s there. Not out and about anyway. There’s a comfortably furnished room right when we walk through the door, but we decide to keep exploring. Rat-Rat casts detect magic. The comfortable room has an illusory wall to an outside platform, but nothing else of note. 

We hear a familiar voice arguing with another voice in another room. A wizard we’d rather not exchange blows with if we can help it. Luckily, according to the DM’s dice rolls, they notice nothing.

Then, further down the hall we heard another familiar voice. Rezmir, the dragonborn cult leader we’ve been tracking for MONTHS. Basically in the first spot we look. Wow, really? And none of us are hurt. Most of us have all of our spell slots and other abilities still available to us. Could this be more perfect? Rat-Rat does see a bit of magic in the room in the last moments before his spell times out, but that’s to be expected, right?

There is a lock.“It looks much more complicated than any lock you’ve encountered before”, the DM tells us. But our rogue is pretty skilled in her arts. She decides to give it a try. 

“With my modifier that was a 30.″ Huh. What luck. DM said later that was a DC 25 lock. 

Rezmir was inside, sitting on her bed in her pajamas, just loving on her doggos. I mean attack drakes. Not paying us any mind whatsoever. *roll initiative*

Syrris goes first. Perfect opportunity for an assassination with her poison dagger and all those extra dice rolls she gets in just this sort of situation. She steps into the room and is SNATCHED UP AND HELD DOWN BY A SENTIENT AREA RUG! I should’ve drawn this part too because I can’t help but imagine the magic carpet from Aladdin wrestling the elf.

Anyway, fighting then ensues. Attack drakes come running, keeping the rest of the party besides the rogue out in the hall. Rezmir starts out unarmed, and shoots off a scary-looking spell at our bard. It misses and melts the wall behind him. Thank goodness it missed. Rogue takes 2 turns escaping the rug, Rezmir runs for her sword across the room. Rat-Rat’s moonbeaming Rezmir rather successfully. Killian and the Montagor are mostly in melee with the drakes, but Killian did start with a firebolt to Rezmir’s face. This fight hurts, both sides taking plenty of damage.

The rogue is taking the brunt of the damage trapped inside the bedroom with the dragonborn and that mean magic carpet. She takes it like a champ, but there’s a turn for the worse when she’s ready for healing. The bard’s starts coming to her aid, and she takes more damage, this time from the sword. Healing has no effect from that point.... The sword did something to stop her from regaining hit points, and after the significant damage from its blade, that’s bad news.

Bard and Rogue get caught in a breath attack, and the rogue goes down. Killian and Rat-Rat are still outside of the room, Killian around a corner and can’t actually see Rezmir from where he’s at. Shit. We still have one drake remaining. Killian tries his best with two attacks to eliminate it, but does min damage on both and it remains standing. Fuck it. Time for an Action Surge. Moves past the drake to where he’s in melee with Rezmir herself, stepping out from around the corner. Double attack again. Hits on both. NAT 20 ON THE SECOND! 

“How did it happen?”, the DM asks. I’m floored that I managed to down her in that hit.

“Killian steps around the corner, swinging his sword to where her saw the breath attack originate, slicing through her pajamas into the scales beneath. He then makes eye contact with her and sees the recognition in her face as she looks his way in surprise, even as he’s pulling back his sword for a second strike. Killian lunges full-force, plunging the sword right through her before she has the chance to react.”

“FOOLS!”, she cries out with her final breath as she disintegrates into ash, her sword and a couple of keys clanging to the floor where she had stood. Simultaneously an ornate chest in the far corner of the room violently explodes, destroying anything that might’ve been inside.

We rush to the Syrris, and Rat-Rat stabilizes her. Killian places her on the bed to rest. Then eyes turn toward the items Rezmir left behind. Killian voices that the rogue won’t be pleased to see the chest exploded when she regains consciousness, but doesn’t personally care much that the loot is no more. The party uses one of the keys in the pile of ash that was Rezmir to relock the room so they can use the comfortable chamber for a night of recuperation before continuing venturing back into the castle.

“Killian, I think you’re the only one of us that could wield that sword.”, Rat-Rat squeaks, pointing to the one remaining object on the ground.

The sword is jagged and black with a purple crystal in the hilt. Something about it makes Killian uneasy.

Killian replies, “A greatsword... Doesn’t really suit my fighting style. But it seems a powerful blade. ” Then he picks it up off the floor feeling powerful magic coursing through it, and hears a voice in his head.

“Hello”, the sword whispers, darkly. “You enjoyed that kill, didn’t you.”

Oh man, having my lawful good, magic fanatic, fighter boy weigh the benefits of wielding a legendary magical sword of untold power, against the moral drawback of it being intelligent and EVIL is going to be a wild ride. He has attuned to it, and we’ll see where this takes us. 

I’m still reeling from all the amazing things that happened in this session. What a day for Killian in particular. 

[twoidiotwriters1]

Home- Chapter 1. (Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x F!Oc)

A/N: A new adventure, i hope you all like it.

Words: 2,014

Warnings: None

Prologue.

Chapter 1. Nightmares.

I had never seen so much... green.

As soon as Luke and I got off the ship that brought us, I couldn't help sitting on the grass. I am touching grass, no more sand. I feel the leaves of small plants. I look up and find many trees, some were huge, and in the distance there is a river, I can hear different sounds of animals.

“Very different from Tatooine, right?” I nod without taking my eyes off the landscape. To some extent I feel overwhelmed, I feel that, at any moment, everything will disappear or that I will have to leave.

“Don't be pessimistic” Jedi tricks! “Come, I'll show you the temple.”

I release a sigh and get up, I take Luke's hand and he guides me towards the huge construction. He shows me the different rooms where children train: practice with a lightsaber, meditation, combat.

In the end we go to one of the gardens where several students are playing, laughing, running. Everyone wore weird clothes, similar to what Luke is wearing, it looks like they have bandages on their legs and some wear brown, gray or white robes, on their torsos they have another piece of cloth.

Luke calls them and they all approach.

“I want to introduce you to our new student, she is Kiara Lang. I hope you receive her with respect and help if necessary,” I feel their eyes on me and I feel somewhat nervous. Some nod with a smile, while others look at me curiously.

“Well, for now you can continue playing, I have to fix certain issues; tomorrow we will continue with your training and Kiara,” I look up, “In a moment I will show you where you will sleep.”

When Luke left the others dispersed none gave importance to my presence. I don't know if that’s a problem.

I walk through the grass until we reach some fences where some flowers of different colors are planted. I touch the petals feeling the softness.

“Where are you from?” A child's voice startles me and I turn to see.

He is taller than me, his hair is black and a little long, I can see that in the back he has a small braid, some children also had it. His dark brown eyes watch me curious, his face covered with freckles.

“What?” I may not have been so popular at home, but I am sure that this is not how you start a conversation.

“Where are you from?” He repeats.

“Tatooine. I'm Kiara,” I raise my hand as a greeting, but he ignores me.

"I know your name, Luke said it just now,” He rolls his eyes and I blush.

“This is the part where you say your name,” I indicate.

“I'm Ben Solo,” I open my mouth to say something else, but he interrupts me, “You’re dirty and your clothes are ripped.”

“Hey Ben, will you come or will you be reading as usual?” Said a girl behind him. She, along with two boys approach. Ben rolls his eyes.

“I prefer to do something other than being with you.

“So Kiara,” says one of them and analyzes me from top to bottom, “Why are you so dirty? Are you some kind of scavenger?” He teases, causing the laughter of his friends.

“Something like that,” The laughs stop and now everyone sees me confused, I shrug. It was not a lie.

“Let's go, it's already starting to stink,” says the girl covering her nose and the three leave.

I frown and take the top of my blouse and bring it to my nose, it may not be the best smell, but I don't think it’s that bad.

“You should change,” says Ben.

“I'll do it later, shouldn't you be with others?” He tenses.

“I'm not very friendly” He grumbles

“Yeah, I also had trouble making friends. Once, a group did not want to play with me and they made fun of me, so I found a dump with several parts of ships and torn fabrics and made a helmet, when it got dark I scared them. Everyone ran away and shouted, I remember one of them peed in his pants-”

I'm focused on telling the story until I hear his laugh, I look at him.

“Seriously?” He says while still laughing. I nod, laughing as well.

“I guess it was fun, not for them, though.” We both laugh louder.

“It’s a good way to scare away others…” Then we remain silent, “Come on, I'll accompany you to your room,” I follow him and we both enter the temple, we walk through several corridors, in the distance I can see small cabins.

I follow Ben down some stairs and stop in front of a cabin

“This is mine and Luke said that one,” Points to the one in front, “would be yours.”

I look at him confused.

“When did he say that?” Ben laughs.

“He told us telepathically just now”

“Oh.”

“You will learn, don’t worry. I was also worried when my parents left me here.”

“Do you have parents?” He seems surprised by my question and nods.

“You do not?”

“No. Well, I guess I had them, but they left me. Jara, an old woman, she raised me,” I didn't care about telling my past, I'm not ashamed and it's not a lie.

“I'm sorry.”

“Never mind. I better change,” I say pointing to my cabin.

“Oh yeah. Inside are your clothes and follow the stairs there,” Points at the end of the cabins, “and go to the right side, there are ponds where you can bathe,” I nod.

“Thanks, Ben,” I smile at him.

“No problem, Kiara.”

 __________________________________________________

“Ben did help you?” I nod and Luke seems surprised.

“Why do you look at me like that?” He notices and shakes his head.

“Nothing... he’s not usually... friendly. He does not speak with the others. It surprises me, it's all, but I'm glad.”

“Okay”

Already dressed like the other students, Luke calls me to enter the temple and tell me what I will see from now on.

“You have questions, it's time to ask them.”

“When can I read your mind?” I say annoyed and he laughs.

“It will be complicated, especially with my mind, but you will start with the basics.”

“When will you give me a lightsaber?”

“First you will train with droids.”

“How old is Ben?” This question takes him by surprise.

“He’s ten”

Two years older than me, I thought we were the same age.

“Have the others been here a long time? How do I know I reach their level?”

“Calm down, maybe they’re more advanced, but everything will depend on your performance, Ben is one of the best, and learned fast, but some took longer. Not everyone learns the same, Kiara.”

“Will I only learn to do tricks and fight?”

“No,” He laughs again, “Let me explain: There is something called, ‘The force’ is an energy field, which is produced by cells called ‘midichlorians’, all living beings have them, the difference is that we have a greater amount, we are sensitive to it. You, me, Ben, my students. Thanks to this we can create a relationship that allows us, as you say, to do tricks.”

“Cool.”

“Here you will learn to connect and be able to manipulate that energy, so that you are in balance and harmony. When you arrived and saw the landscape of this planet, how did you feel?”

“At ease…”

“That's what I want to achieve,” He shifts in his place, “But there is another thing you should know: in this balance there must always be a counterpart, the dark side. Long ago there was a war, a force-sensitive person used these skills to manipulate and harness them to create terror and destruction…”

For a moment he loses himself in his thoughts.

Did he knew that person?

Then he returns “Those are called the Sith, we must be careful not to fall on the dark side. Do you remember how the force guided you to my ship?” I nod, “It's the same, but it can do... bad things. You will understand later.”

It's a lot of information, my mind hasn't stopped since I met him, I feel a pain in it and I groan.

“There are many things to remember.”

“I understand, you can go to sleep, Kiara,” I get up from the bench where we were, but before we go, I turn to Luke.

“Are you and Ben family?”

“How…?” He thinks for a moment and then smiles.

“I felt it,” I joke and he nods.

“Is my nephew.”

“Great”

________________________

17 years later..

“It seems that someone could not sleep well,” I let out a growl as I sit on the side of the co-pilot.

I cross my arms and lean on the seat.

“Leave me alone,” he laughs.

“Stop pouting, are you okay?” I sigh.

“Just nightmares,” Suddenly he gets serious.

“Do you want to talk about that?”

“The last one was when I met Ben. It was only that, when I arrived at the temple, but for some reason, I woke up scared and could no longer sleep well. Besides,” I look at him with a sided smile, “You snore, very loud, you can compete against Chewbacca,” I tease and he looks at me for a moment with a frown, then look back to the front.

I laugh at his reaction.

“Very funny, one day I will record you and we will know who could compete with the Wookie.” I laugh again.

“How much left?” I ask, shifting in my place.

“Little, we are already in its system.”

“I hope this doesn't end badly” He laughs.

“Knowing us, everything will end in trouble, sweetheart.”

We were silent for a few minutes, I turn to the window on my right side and watch the stars pass near our ship. We have traveled for a long time to many places in the galaxy, I have seen many planets, different cultures, people, climates, but what I like most about travel is the stars, it’s always fascinated me.

Han knows, sometimes he slows down so I can see them, doesn't matter if we need to get to our meeting with a customer as soon as possible, I appreciate that.

Since I joined his crew, I’ve had time to think about the opportunities I have when traveling (and fleeing) from planet to planet. Now, after so much time, I thought about how much I miss having a place to return. Home. When we had the Millenium Falcon I felt that it was kind of a house where to return.

This ship feels strange and although Han and Chewie are with me, I don't think it's the same.

“Have you ever thought about returning to Leia?” I blurt out. He’s surprised, “I mean being by her side or always arriving at her own home.” He meditates my words.

“I guess so, sometimes. When we were together, going to work and then returning with... them. It became routine,” Then he let out a small laugh, “I must admit that, when I was young, it was my worst nightmare, but with Leia…” He smiles, “It was different, I liked that routine.”

“But everything got worse and you went back to your lonely job.”

“Okay, yes. But now is not so lonely,” He looks at me sideways, “Don't tell Chewie, but you're my favorite,” He winks at me and I laugh.

“I better be,” I tease and he laughs.

“Why do you ask?” I shrug.

“I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, no” I give a light punch to his arm.

“I was thinking,” I repeat, “that I've never had that, I mean, it's great to be with you, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know. It would be... nice, to have a home to return to, maybe... someone waiting for me.”

Han looks at me strangely and I don't blame him, this is not my usual attitude, but it is something I wanted to say.

Now I yearn something different.

I no longer want to run away.

[caucaxican]

                  ⊰ i am nothing but a shadow in the night ⊱

                                 (above links to spotify; tracklist & notes under the cut)

▌ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙᴇᴀᴛ - ɢᴀᴢᴇʟʟᴇ ᴛᴡɪɴ ♫ i feel empty, i feel dark; i remark, i am mesmerised by my own beat ✎ the war the orcish horde wages upon the draenei costs freiha her beloved eldest sister and her grandmother. hiding in the dark and dreary mushroom forests of zangarmarsh brings further tragedy when her remaining sister and brother disappear and are declared dead. and when the exodar crashes upon azeroth, it claims the lives of her parents. she is left alone in a strange new world, wracked with guilt and grief for being the sole survivor of her family.

▌ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴄᴏɪɴs - ᴄɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀ ♫ i've got no destination, no place to call my own; i'll explore the constellations 'til i find the course i mean to hold ✎ as freiha sets out beyond azuremyst and into the wider world, she finds herself simultaneously mourning all she’s lost and terrified of whatever is on the horizon. as it stands, she doesn’t belong anywhere and feels directionless.

▌ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ's ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ (ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ—ғɪɴᴀʟ ғᴀɴᴛᴀsʏ ɪx) - ᴀʟᴇx ᴍᴏᴜᴋᴀʟᴀ, ᴇɴʀɪᴄᴏ ᴅᴇɪᴀɴᴀ ♫ [instrumental] ✎ life on azeroth proves to be difficult and dangerous. if it isn’t the unfamiliar and hostile animal species, it’s the people—far too many times, freiha is forced to defend herself, sometimes to the point of killing. survival is the goal as she moves across azeroth, doing whatever she must in order to get by in a world that has been little more than harsh and treacherous since she arrived.

▌ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴏᴛ's ɢᴏɴᴇ - sᴀɴᴛɪɢᴏʟᴅ ♫ oh i’m armed and dangerous, and i’m deafened by the fray; waiting for the day i’m able and i set it on its way ✎ time marches on, leaving freiha feeling more and more desolate. she has become a hardened warrior by now, as deadly as—if not more than—those who seek to harm her. however, she often finds herself thinking this was never who she was meant to be. will she ever know peace in her life again, or is this truly the way for her from now on?

▌ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ - ᴘᴀʀᴀᴍᴏʀᴇ ♫ still there are darkened places deep in my heart; where once was blazing light, now there's a tiny spark ✎ continuously separated from her own scattered people, and missing what it’s like to be part of draenic society and culture rather than the hodgepodge of denizens comprising azeroth, freiha laments the transient nature of her existence. she has far diverged from the woman she once was decades ago, now a dispassionate and deeply withdrawn individual.

▌ ɪ'ᴍ ᴏɴ ғɪʀᴇ - ɪᴏ ᴇᴄʜᴏ ♫ cool head, steady trigger finger ✎ freiha becomes renowned in small circles as a highly skilled sniper. her expertise is often requested for a variety of things, from collecting animal samples for researchers, to eliminating dangerous targets threatening unprotected villages. she takes pride in her ability, and executes each task with disciplined efficiency.

▌ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇʟᴇss - ᴀ ғɪɴᴇ ғʀᴇɴᴢʏ ♫ running against the wind, playing the cards you get; something is bound to give ✎ for the first time since the collapse of her people’s civilization on draenor, freiha believes she is finally discovering something akin to happiness. she has been reunited with her missing siblings, has managed to establish other close relationships—including a romantic partner and later, an adopted son—and feels as though she’s at last found purpose upon joining the sha’tor. however, apprehension and fear still lurk in the corners of her mind, always reminding her that everything can crumble in an instant.

▌ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛ/ʙᴇɪғᴏɴɢ's sᴀᴄʀɪғɪᴄᴇ (ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴋᴏʀʀᴀ) - ᴊᴇʀᴇᴍʏ ᴢᴜᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ ♫ [instrumental] ✎ after unknowingly falling under the sway of the void entity known as “the hound,” freiha’s mind is possessed and she is turned against her comrades. in the midst of a standoff with her beloved, the void catches sight of the dormant light within her, and moves to snuff it out—by forcing her to turn her own spear on herself, resulting in her death. varistus quickly intervenes, resurrecting her and giving her a second chance at life. but is it really as much of a blessing as it seems?

▌ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄᴇ - sᴏʜɴ ♫ ‘cause my shoulders couldn't hold that weight for long ✎ in the time following her death and resurrection, freiha is plagued by dark thoughts and darker dreams pertaining to the events that transpired, from her possession and being powerless to stop herself, to way it felt as her life slipped from her. she tries to maintain her composure and carry on with her life, but she feels different all the way down to her core. tiny cracks are beginning to show in her once sturdy and carefully crafted facade.

▌ ᴇᴍᴘᴛʏ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴ - ʏᴀs ♫ there's a war inside my head, and i'm drowning in regret ✎ further issues build up at an alarming rate. first, her family begins to splinter: the boy she called her son is reclaimed by long-lost parents; her sister disappears after a traumatic experience of her own, severing one more support avenue and robbing her of the opportunity to offer the same; her closest friend, like another sister to her, is often long gone; and her own mate begins to push her away following his conversion to lightforged. in addition, she is still struggling with newly awakened power, something which she feels both fear and resentment toward. she is left teetering on the edge of desolation once more, everything seemingly coming apart at the seams.

▌ ʀᴏᴀᴅs - ᴘᴏʀᴛɪsʜᴇᴀᴅ ♫ never found our way, regardless of what they say; how can it feel this wrong? ✎ the love she’d found is lost. she doesn’t know how to be there for him, nor does he seem capable of doing the same for her. the weight of their individual traumas upon both of them proves too heavy to bear, and ultimately drives them apart.

▌ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʟɪɢʜᴛ (ғɪɴᴀʟ ғᴀɴᴛᴀsʏ xɪɪɪ) - ᴍᴀsᴀsʜɪ ʜᴀᴍᴀᴜᴢᴜ ♫ [instrumental] ✎ if there is one thing she doesn’t feel entirely helpless against and is determined to gain control of, it’s the light that has manifested in the wake of her resurrection. she seeks out her grandfather to train her; however, the process is difficult, painful, and downright infuriating at times. all the angst and baggage she's carrying prevents her from being a clear and open conduit for the light, and much like with lightforging, she must learn to let go and allow herself to be reshaped.

▌ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅ ᴇʏᴇs - ᴏғ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇɴ ♫ i'll be a stone, i'll be the hunter, a tower that casts a shade ✎ though freiha succeeds in harnessing her new abilities and shedding the majority of her burdens, she nonetheless reverts largely to her former self—cold, taciturn, and left with a hardened resolution for the future. there will be no more foolish mistakes, no lowering of her guard. everything will be met with caution and solely in the interest of self-preservation.

▌ ᴄʀᴀsʜ ᴏғ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs (ʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʀᴇᴅᴇᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɪ) - ʀᴏᴄᴄᴏ ᴅᴇʟᴜᴄᴀ ♫ may i stand unshaken amidst, amidst a crash of worlds ✎ the mantra for someone who has lost so much and refuses to lose more.

( art by d4ybre4ker )

[tigerkirby215]

5e Senna the Redeemer build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games)

Friendship ended with Xayah and Rakan; Senna and Lucian new best LoL couple.

I really don’t have much to say on why I wanted to make a Senna build other than “she’s cool and Lucian has best girl.” But seriously can we talk about how hype Senna’s release was? Lucian was fighting for SIX YEARS to get his wife back and then... he did. Senna’s trailer honestly made me shed a tear I felt so happy for the guy.

GOALS

Light - Senna is the redeemer of lost souls, and fights along with Lucian in Sentinels of Light. Naturally she needs some divine Damacian protection at her side.

And Darkness - Her time in the lantern has given Senna some lasting changes. She can turn into a screaming cloud, among other things.

Be free... - Senna seeks to set the lost souls of the Shadow Isles free, and also uses her powers of light and darkness to keep her allies alive.

RACE

Senna is a human but all that time in Thresh’s lantern has changed her quite a bit. Normally I’d just go for a Variant Human but I thought we should spice things up a bit: the Mark of Finding from Eberron is perfect for a Survivalist who spent their life running through a soul-filled lantern. Your Wisdom score increases by 2 and your Constitution score increases by 1, and unlike most humans you start with a Darkvision of 60 feet from all the time you spent in the darkness of a... lantern. Thresh you want to fix the light in there?

But the main skill you gained in there was Hunter’s Intuition. If you roll a Perception or Survival check you can add a d4 to the roll: note that this does stack with spells like Guidance for quite a bit of insurance when trying to spot a lost soul or survive in a realm full of them.

You also get access to Finder’s Magic which just gives you a big ol’ list of spells along with some innate spellcasting. I’ll cover all the spells you get when you’re at a level to cast them in the build. You also know Common as well as Goblin. "Yeah, I met someone in there. He's a ghoul goblin. We fell in love and made ghoul goblin babies..."

If your DM doesn’t allow Eberron: Feel free to play a Variant Human. Increase your Dexterity and Wisdom by 1. Take any skill you want (I’d argue Religion would be in-character) as well as any language you want and take the Sharpshooter feat for more accurate shots with your relic cannon.

Also for whatever reason the Spells of the Mark don’t appear on the D&D Beyond virtual character sheet, so I’ve elected to not mention them in this build.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - Running all your life from the terrors in the mist takes a lot of dodging skill, and while that Relic Cannon might weigh a lot it takes Dexterity to aim it.

14; WISDOM - To fight with both the light and dark you don’t need brains; you need sympathy.

13; CONSTITUTION - Senna herself says that The Mist is like you’re drowning. You ever held your breath for 6 years? I don’t think so. Also this is mainly to balance the +1 to CON from Mark of Finding.

12; INTELLIGENCE - You’re the brains of the operation, even if Lucian doesn’t want to admit it.

10; CHARISMA - Senna is best described as “rough around the edges.”

8; STRENGTH - Even though your Relic Cannon weighs a ton I’ll chock that up to the Curse of the Black Mist more than Senna’s actual upper body strength.

BACKGROUND

Even at a young age Senna was corrupted by the Black Mist, and the Haunted One background from Curse of Strahd is for those with a dark past. You choose 2 proficencies from the listed skills: take Religion and Survival for training both as a Sentinel of Light and as a survivor of the Shadow Isles. You also get one exotic language and while I always suggest to take what you think will be useful Deep Speech is likely the most common language of the creatures of the mist.

As a Haunted One you get a Heart of Darkness. A look into your green eyes will reveal a tragic past, and will influence the local priest to help you and possibly hook you up with his son. Commoners will be able to tell that you have a tragic past and will do anything to help you, even helping you fight if your old warden corners you when you’re alone.

(Artwork by Paul Nong)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - CLERIC 1

Senna started out as a Sentinel of the Light, which means that we’ll be starting off with Cleric. (Truth is that we’re mainly doing this for Saving Throws.) Clerics get proficiency in two skills from the Cleric list: choose Medicine for sure along with any of the other skills on the list: they’re all in character for Senna. (I personally opted for Insight.)

But unlike most subclasses Clerics get to choose their archetype at first level and Grave Domain Clerics fight for the dead and the living. Grave Domain Clerics are part of the Circle of Mortality: if you cast a healing spell on a target with 0 hitpoints they are automatically healed the maximum amount, and you get the Spare the Dying cantrip with an extended range of 30 feet. Spare those whose souls have already been lost, and keep those on the brink of death alive for the fight to come.

Your training as a Sentinel of the Light also lets you see what needs to be purified with Eyes of the Grave. You can use an action to detect any undead within 60 feet until the end of your next turn. You can’t sense them if they’re behind total cover or are protected from divination magic, and you know nothing about them other than the fact that they exist. You can use it a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

But Clerics get Spellcasting and... woo boy there’s a lot to say here. Let’s take it from the top!

Mark of Finding Humans get Finder’s Magic, allowing them to cast Hunter’s Mark once per Long Rest.

Death Domain Clerics have the Bane and False Life spells always prepared.

You get 3 cantrips at level 1: Guidance lets you help Lucian with his dashes or his taxes, Light lets you provide a light in the darkness (duh), and Thaumaturgy lets you use the Curse of the Black Mist to do some spooky things. (Read the spell for the full list of effects.)

Finally you can prepare 4 spells at this level: Healing Word will let you quickly pop a heal at range with Piercing Darkness, Shield of Faith will let you shield your husband from a warden’s hook, Guiding Bolt will let you mark an enemy for your allies to assist with, and Protection from Evil and Good will protect any Purifiers while they try to save you.

Clerics get to prepare their spell list daily so be sure to swap your spells out for what you need: I’m just making suggestions.

IF USING CLASS FEATURE VARIANTS UA: Cause Fear is very in-flavor for Senna but is unfortunately restricted to the Class Feature Variants UA, so only take it if you’re allowed.

But remember that Clerics are prepared spellcasters, meaning that you can swap out your spells at the end of a Long Rest. I’m just picking the spells that are the most in-character for Senna but you’re more than welcome to choose something you think will be more practical.

Oh and as far as Senna’s Relic Cannon goes: at this level you can only use a Light Crossbow, but we’ll get the option to use something heavier soon enough.

LEVEL 2 - CLERIC 2

Level 2 Clerics can Channel Divinity for the light of Demacia aid them. All Clerics can Turn Undead to force undead to make a Wisdom save or run from the reconning. Grave Clerics can also mark a target with Path to the Grave, giving them a Last Embrace and vulnerability to the next shot fired at them. Light them up so Lucian can shoot them down! You can use your Channel Divinity once between short rests.

IF USING CLASS FEATURE VARIANTS UA: You can also use your Channel Divinity to Harness Divine Power, getting back a level 1 spell slot as a bonus action. It’s not much but it’s certainly something.

You can also prepare another spell like Detect Magic to know if anything is hidden in the mist, and if that spider really is a spider.

LEVEL 3 - RANGER 1

Hopping over to Ranger to learn how to shoot a Relic Cannon! Firstly you gain Martial weapon proficiency as a Ranger which will let you swap out the Light Crossbow for a Heavy Crossbow to replicate the Relic Cannon flavor. But more importantly you get another skill proficiency from the Ranger list and the Athletics skill will help make up for your low Strength score.

You also get a Favored Enemy: obviously you’ll be fighting Undead with your husband’s help. You have Advantage to track or remember information on your Favored Enemy. You also get another language and I’d recommend picking whatever’s useful.

You’re also a Natural Explorer in your favored terrain and I’d argue that the Shadow Isles are a Swamp of sorts. You get a bunch of advantages while traveling through your favored terrain which I recommend you read on your own time.

Of course mind you that these are just suggestions for these features: remember that Ranger is a class you have work with your DM in order to get maximum value out of them. Talk to them about what you’re going to fight and where you’ll be: Senna can shoot Galio just as well as Thresh.

IF USING CLASS FEATURES UA: Natural Explorer is replaced with Deft Explorer - I recommend the Canny feature for more help your husband out some more. Take the Perception skill and Expertise in either Medicine or Survival to keep fighting on the Shadow Isles.

Favored Enemy is also replaced with Favored Foe: you can cast Hunter’s Mark a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier and don’t need to concentrate on the spell. These uses of Hunter’s Mark come back on a Long Rest just like your class feature Hunter’s Mark, so I’d suggest saving them for when you need to concentrate on something else but still dish out extra damage.

In addition 3rd level Humans with the Mark of Finding can cast Locate Object without using a spell slot once per long rest, so if you need to find a giant stone gun or a lantern you won’t have any trouble finding it.

LEVEL 4 - RANGER 2

Second level Rangers get a Fighting Style and while Archery may imply the use of a bow it works just as well for aiming a giant hunk of lightstone with a +2 chance to hit.

You also get access to Ranger spells at level 2: Zephyr Strike speeds you up for Absolution, letting you avoid Attacks of Opportunity when you move. In addition you can give yourself Advantage on an attack roll, ending the spell to increase your damage with 1d8 Force and giving you 30 feet of additional movement speed for the turn.

Hunter’s Mark meanwhile is likely a spell you’ve gotten used to since it’s part of your race: you can mark a target to a d6 extra damage to them and have Advantage to track them. You can move the mark to someone else within 90 feet of you if the original target dies.

LEVEL 5 - RANGER 3

At level 3 you get to choose your Ranger Conclave and Gloom Stalker is perfect for those that spend their life running from the mist. You get Umbral Sight which increases your Darkvision by 30 feet and helps you hide in the mist, making you invisible to any creature with Darkvision if you’re standing in darkness. You also get Dread Ambusher: you have a bonus to your initiative equal to your Wisdom modifier and during the first turn of combat your walking speed increases by 10 feet. In addition you can attack twice on your first turn, and your second attack will do an extra d8 of damage. Just a reminder that technically you can’t attack twice with your Heavy Crossbow, but if you have a nice DM or an Artificer willing to lend you a Repeating Crossbow it is fine. Alternatively you can just use a Longbow and reflavor it as a Relic Cannon.

You also get Primeval Awareness, letting you use a spell slot to detect if there are any aberrations, celestials, dragons, elementals, fey, fiends, or undead within 1 mile of you. Or alternatively you can use Primal Awareness to get access to some innate spells. I suggest looking at the Class Feature Variants UA for a list of the spells you can cast with Primal Awareness.

You also get access to the Disguise Self spell for free along with one new spell of your choice: take Ensnaring Strike to lock your enemies down with Last Embrace. “One last breath...”

LEVEL 6 - RANGER 4

4th level Rangers get an Ability Score Improvement and seeing as our Dexterity score is uneven grab the Resilient Feat for Dexterity for proficiency in DEX saving throws and an increase to your DEX modifier.

WHY NOT ANOTHER FEAT? - The only other Feat that increases Dexterity which would be useful for us is Athlete, which isn’t too important for a ranged build.

(Artwork found on lol.gamepedia)

LEVEL 7 - RANGER 5

5th level Rangers get an Extra Attack. Note that if you’re still using the Heavy Crossbow you can only attack once per round, which does mean that you can’t use Dread Ambusher or your second attack with RAW. What I’m saying is even though a Heavy Crossbow makes more sense in-character it would probably be better for the build if you used a Longbow instead.

You also get access to second level Ranger spells at 5th level. Gloom Stalkers know the spell Rope Trick innately so you can climb back into the lantern for safety... I don’t think the lantern is safe. Take Spike Growth for some more misty spikes to slow down your foes.

LEVEL 8 - RANGER 6

6th level Rangers get another Favored Enemy and Favored Terrain from Natural Explorer. Again feel free to metagame with your DM and ask them what to pick, or alternatively take the Tireless feature from the Deft Explorer Class Feature Variant so you can keep running even if you’re hit by Exhaust... both the summoner spell and the D&D debuff!

LEVEL 9 - RANGER 7

7th level Gloomstalkers get Iron Mind, giving them proficiency in Wisdom saves... but if you didn’t notice we already have proficiency in Wisdom saves, and since our other two options are either Charisma (which we have) or Intelligence go for proficiency in Intelligence saves instead. Isn’t it great when everything works out?

You can also learn another Ranger spell and Healing Spirit lets you summon a friendly Mistwraith to heal your allies. Whenever a creature moves through the spirit’s space they heal a d6 of health, and you can move the spirit up to 30 feet on your turn as a bonus action.

LEVEL 10 - RANGER 8

8th level Rangers get another Ability Score Improvement: increase your Dexterity again for better accuracy and more damage with your Relic Cannon. You also get Land’s Stride which lets you ignore the plants of the Shadow Isles and gives you advantage to get past magical plants that are trying to stop you.

LEVEL 11 - CLERIC 3

Now that we can fight with the darkness it’s time to fight with the light. 3rd level Clerics get access to second level spells like Blindness/Deafness to hide your allies in the mist... against one enemy. Still useful to get the jump on them.

You also innately know the Gentle Repose spell as well as Ray of Enfeeblement. Keep Lucian away from Thresh by Exhausting him if he comes close!

LEVEL 12 - CLERIC 4

4th level Clerics get another Ability Score Improvement: cap your Dexterity for maximum accuracy and saving throws with your Relic Cannon.

You also get another spell and another cantrip: Word of Radiance lets you shout “DEMACIA!” to force enemies close to you to make a Constitution saving throw or take Radiant damage. Hold Person (once again) lets you send out a Last Embrace to hold your foes down for your allies to take care of them.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 13 - CLERIC 5

5th level Clerics can Destroy Undead with their Turn Undead feature if the undead is of CR 1/2 or lower.

You also get access to 3rd level spells: Bestow Curse lets you bestow the Curse of the Black Mist on an enemy granting a bunch of effects which you can read on the spell list. In addition Grave Clerics always have the Revivify and Vampiric Touch spells prepared, so you can repay your husband for saving you before screeching at those who’d take him from you.

LEVEL 14 - CLERIC 6

6th level Clerics get another use of their Channel Divinity for more undead destruction and more marks for your allies. Additionally Grave Clerics get Sentinel at Death’s Door, allowing them to negate a critical hit on an ally. Fire off Dawning Shadow to shield Lucian. “For the light.” “And all lost in darkness.”

You also get another spell and Mass Healing Word lets you hit a multi-person Piercing Darkness.

LEVEL 15 - CLERIC 7

7th level Grave Clerics get access to 4th level spells. As a Grave Cleric you know the Blight and Death Ward spells innately, letting your enemies wither away in the mist and your allies survive even the toughest blow.

For your spell of choice choose Banishment to send the shadows back from once they came.

LEVEL 16 - CLERIC 8

8th level classes get another Ability Score Improvement: increase your Wisdom to get into the fight faster and improve your spellcasting.

8th level Grave Clerics get Potent Spellcasting but if you haven’t noticed we’re going for a weapon-based build so ask your DM to instead use the Blessed Strikes feature from the Class Feature Variants UA to do an extra d8 of Radiant damage with one of your attacks. The Piercing Darkness is mixed with the light, after all.

You can also prepare another spell and Stone Shape lets you form some relicstone into a massive cannon to fight off the darkness... or to make a passage through a wall. Guardian of Faith will let the light of Demacia protect you from any ghouls trying to grab you.

In addition your Destroy Undead feature now destroys undead of CR 1.

LEVEL 17 - CLERIC 9

9th level Clerics get access to 5th level spells. As a Grave Cleric you always have the Antilife Shell and Raise Dead spells always prepared: don’t worry though this is the good kind of Raise Dead where the person is just alive, not a mindless zombie.

For your spell of choice prepare the light of Dawn to strike down your foes.

LEVEL 18 - CLERIC 10

10th level Clerics get Divine Intervention. You can call the gods of Demacia to help you in a time of need. When you do the DM rolls on a percentile die and if the percentage is equal to or lower than your level (so right now 10, or a 1/10 chance) the gods will hear you and help you. You can only call for help once per long rest and if the gods do help you the feature is put on cool-down for 7 days. Never underestimate the power of a light in the darkness: they have long cool-downs for a reason.

You can also prepare another spell and Holy Weapon lets you channel the light into your Relic Cannon, making your weapon attacks do an extra 2d8 of Radiant Damage, and gives you a radiant burst to blind nearby enemies and do 4d8 damage to them.

You additionally get another cantrip and once again I’m largely stumped on what to take, so grab Toll the Dead so the creatures of the mist know their time is up.

LEVEL 19 - CLERIC 11

11th level Clerics can Destroy Undead of CR 2, and can prepare a 6th level spell like Heal.

LEVEL 20 - CLERIC 12

Our final level is the 12th level of Cleric for another Ability Score Improvement: if you want better spells go for more Wisdom but if you want to shoot your gun better I’d suggest finally taking the Sharpshooter Feat. This will let you ignore half cover and three-quarters cover and also shoot from your maximum range without disadvantage. But most importantly you can take a bit of a harder shot to instead receive +10 to your damage roll! “Handled.”

For your final (two) spells of choice Word of Recall lets you quickly recall to your Nexus along with your friends, and True Seeing will let you see if anything is trying to hide from purification or redemption. But again I need to mention that Clerics are prepared spellcasters, so prepare the spells that are useful in the moment.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Out of the lantern... - You are remarkably resistant with above-average health and proficiency with every type of saving throw except for Strength and Constitution, not to mention all the spells you have to buff yourself and your allies.

Hell came with me - You have immense damage output and utility in a fight. +10 to initiative with 3 attacks on turn 1 plus an extra d8 of damage. You also have a huge array of spells and spell slots going up to 8th level, with spells like Hunter’s Mark, Bestow Curse, and Holy Weapon all buffing your Relic Cannon.

I can handle this gun - You have a good deal of utility to provide to yourself and your party. Again I mention your Cleric spells but you also have a large array of proficiencies to be useful out-of-combat as well.

CONS

If you've got a problem with me, make it two - Like I mentioned in the pros section your two big Achilles' heels are Strength and Constitution saves. The low CON modifier in particular is a big issue since it means that you will be dropping Concentration spells frequently.

It’s the dream that makes us giants - Speaking about concentration: the spell list I recommended has a lot of them. You have an ungodly amount of Concentration spells at first level alone and it only gets crazier at higher levels.

Running with a gun in your hand - Senna operates best at range but unfortunately she has very few options to actually make distance for herself. That problem extends into this build as you rely almost entirely on being in the backline away from any Mist Wraiths that might want you.

But you’ve dealt with those problems all your life and they’re not going to stop you when you’re ready for a reckoning. I’m actually rather impressed with this build as it performs well across all levels of play. Fight along-side your husband as well as your team: heal the party, shoot the baddies, and be the light in the darkness. Just try to avoid being banished into a lantern for 6 years: Lucian needs you as much as you need him. "Lucian has a way of breaking down my walls."

(Artwork by Riot Games)

[mzees-fate-ideas]

Daedalus

An idea for a five star caster servant that I’ve been toying with over the past couple days. Partially inspired by tumblr user erinye for the Icarus stuff.

Below the read-more is his appearance, personality, skills, and a few of the supposed my room interactions with other servants. Feel free to send an ask requesting an interaction with any other servants that I didn’t do (I’m also open to doing ones for fan servants).

History:

The greatest inventor of ancient Greece, and architect of the labyrinth that would contain the bull of King Minos. He is a man who might have completely changed the face of Greek history if not for the tragedies that befell him.

Upon completing the labyrinth, Minos imprisoned Daedalus and his son Icarus in a sealed tower. Putting his great mind to work: he created two sets of entirely functional wings using nothing but candle wax, and any birds he could lure down to the window, and using these wings the two of them made their escape.

History would record the death of Icarus as an act of fatal hubris, but in truth the tragedy was one born of foolish love. Icarus had fallen in love with the sun god Apollo, and despite Daedalus’ repeated warnings for him “not to get too close to the sun”, Icarus followed his heart as high as his wax wings could take him, before plummeting into the ocean below. It is highly unlikely that Apollo intended such an end for Icarus, but it was nonetheless his flames that were to blame for the boy’s fall.

(And just in general Apollo getting romantically involved with mortals is a bad move. I mean seriously the amount of attempted romances with him ending in the mortal getting turned into a plant alone is staggering. Don’t bang Apollo kids you might end up getting turned into a cactus.)

Daedalus, his life having been ruined by king and god alike, swore vengeance on both, and entered a mad frenzy of plotting and inventing of the means he would bring the downfall of authority. His plans were not to be however, as he died from overwork before they could come to fruition.

Appearance:

Daedalus is summoned in his sixties, this being the point at which he was constructing his most earth-shaking creations for his vendetta against the gods. His first ascension has him in a set of grubby clothes and a leather apron, much like you would expect a smith or sculptor to wear in their workshop. His second ascension has him don a set of sleek bronze armour, the design of which being something along the lines of where ancient Greece meets iron man. His third ascension has his armour take a more dented and patchwork look, as numerous modifications have been made to it without any care for consistency or aesthetics.

Personality:

Daedalus' moods can range from calm and methodical, as he carefully calibrates his newest device to microscopic perfection, to borderline hyperactive, as he starts haphazardly working on a dozen completely unrelated projects at once, seemingly at random times. When fresh inspiration strikes him he can’t help but throw himself full force into whatever new idea just struck him, often to the detriment of his countless unfinished projects. He has also been banned from setting foot inside Chaldea’s kitchen after disassembling the microwave without permission in order to see how it worked.

When not working on some device, he is a kind and grandfatherly individual who is always available should someone require assistance. He regularly holds classes on various subjects for the younger servants (or anyone who wishes to show up). These classes rarely stay on the intended topic for their whole duration, but are never boring.

He does however feel uneasy around divine servants and royalty. Despite knowing in his head that almost all of them had absolutely nothing to do with what befell him, emotions are sadly rarely rational.

Skills:

AAABQ deck Blueprint Consultation: Daedalus reviews his current plans, charging his NP gauge and buffing his noble phantasm for a turn.

Plotting Divine Downfall: A party-wide buff to arts, with a further self-buff against divine servants and servants with the “king” attribute. A skill born of his unceasing grudge.

Fortress Construction EX: A party-wide defensive buff.

Noble Phantasm: Promethean Spear (arts)

A weapon built specifically to strike down Apollo. While a flaming spear might seem like an ineffective weapon against a sun god, when activated this weapon reaches temperatures beyond that of the sun itself, and Daedalus created it out of the desire to inflict the same pain on Apollo that Icarus must have felt when his wings were set ablaze.

In-game it does massive damage to a single target and inflicts a burn debuff.

Interactions with other servants: Orion: “Is that.... Artemis??? She is extremely different from anything that I might have expected. Well... ignoring that issue for now, my grudges are less important than your mission so I will not cause any conflict with that goddess, despite her sibling. If possible however, I would like to avoid being partnered with her in battle.”

Asterios: “.............I was told I was constructing a prison for a monster. I never knew until now that the one being thrown into my labyrinth would be an innocent boy.... Minos! You’d better pray I never track down your place in Hades’ realm, for the horrors of Tartarus will pale in comparison to what I will do to you!”

Da Vinci: “The face of the renaissance! Both literally and metaphorically! Ah, what I wouldn’t have given to have lived during such an age. It is unfortunate that her schedule is so busy, but hopefully we can find time to collaborate on a work. Together we will make a wonder the likes of which the world has never seen!”

Babbage: “Incredible! To think that his body is powered by nothing by super-heated water! The wonders of the ages that came after mine never cease to impress! Do you think it would be a bit too forward if I asked if I could take him apart?”

Tesla: “HA! What I wouldn’t give to see Zeus’ reaction to this! Those great lightning bolts that he was so proud of being harnessed for use in common appliances. Bravo sir! Bravo!”

Moriarty: “This man seems about as untrustworthy as any individual can possibly get. I must admit however, that beyond that I do feel some level of kinship with him as an intellectual and as a father.... Huh? What do you mean he has no children? Then why was he calling himself “papa” when he thought no one else was listening?”

[durrzerker]

Taskmaster: The Line. Chapter 6: Wrecked

Standing in the safe room of Zemo's old Masters of Evil headquarters, Taskmaster stared down the barrel of a loaded pistol. Held in the hands of a nine-year-old girl with tears in her eyes, a gun had never been so threatening as it was now; not because of how he feared she might use it, but because he didn't know how far he was willing to go to stop her.

"Put the gun down, kid. I get yer pissed off -- but that's the last time to be holding one o'those."

"What? Afraid I dinnae remember how ta use it? Ya oughta have more faith, considerin' ya taught me." She snarled out those last three words like a slur, but what she was said was obviously true. Compensating for her small size and the weapon's kick, she was holding the pistol exactly right - wide stance, both hands in place, the sights aligned perfectly with her eyes - which were shockingly intense, black as beetle shells and just as hard.

"That so?" He replied coolly, trying not to let her see the anxiety that was coursing through him. If this theory was right - if these kids had the same photographic reflexes as Tony himself - then she'd be able to read his body language as easily as he read everyone else's; he couldn't lie to her or hide his feelings without doing so absolutely perfectly. "Yeah, I'll be honest...I don't even recognize you." Within every good deception was a hint of truth, so he started with that. It was important - because what he wanted to hide was that he overheard the whole conversation between Black Ant and Wolverine. "...What made you realize I don't remember you, then?"

Eyeing him suspiciously for a long moment, only lowering the pistol slightly, the girl took a deep breath. "That idiot partner o'yers dinnae when to shut up. Can't believe this. Been so angry at you...and ya dun ken what ye even did." Still, she didn't drop the gun entirely yet; there was more to this. "...I'm Cassandra. I was - am? - a student of yers. Before ya --"

Before she could finish, however, the entire building shook -- a massive crack splitting the air as the mercenary was nearly thrown off his feet.

For her part, Cassandra recovered remarkably well. Though she fell back against the wall of the armory hard, she didn't relinquish the pistol, planting one foot and grabbing the wall in a nimble move Taskmaster recognized as one of the Winter Soldier's. Either the Red Room had a lot to answer for, or she really had been taught by him. Neither possibility appealed to him, but the quake had more of his attention. "The hell was that?" Hastily grabbing a large syringe out of his first aid kit, he tapped it once and drove it into his arm. Inside was an experimental serum designed by Albino, Taskmaster's on-staff scientist who specialized in helping him close the gap between himself and the superhumans he often had to face. While he typically preferred to keep things purely skill-based, some jobs just demanded you bring out the heavy guns. These particular serums were created as an improvement of the Regenix that was meant to copy Wolverine's healing factor. While not nearly as fast as that, it was also a lot more stable than Regenix, which had a nasty habit of organ failure in its subject.

Already, the pain was starting to fade - it'd be a few hours before he was back to true fighting shape, though.

"Dinnae," Cassandra replied bluntly. "One o'yer many mistakes?"

"Har har. Let's go check on the others."

Leading the snappy little redhead out towards the living room of the mansion, Tony just barely ducked in time to avoid an enormous wrecking ball aimed directly for his face. "What the hell?"

Unsurprisingly, it was being held by a member of the Wrecking Crew themselves, who were currently in heated combat with Wolverine and Black Ant. "Tasky!" Eric shouted. "They're here for the kids! They're the ones who got hired to bring them back!"

"Hired by who?" Taskmaster snapped, lifting his shield just in time to intercept an oncoming crowbar from Wrecker. Even with the vibranium of his shield, he was nearly thrown off his feet, throwing his arm up high to dissipate some of the force. "Damn...zeroed in on me real fast, huh?"

"None of your business who hired us. All you gotta know is you're priority target, traitor! Eight figures on that ugly mask of yours!" Wrecker barked. Despite his great bulk, he was quick on his feet; no sooner had Taskmaster deflected that blow than another one rained down onto his head. Ducking to the side, pirouetting in a Captain America classic afterwards, Tony snarled and drew his sword, sweeping it across the man's back in a single stroke. It was only because he could feel the blade barely break the skin that he reacted in time to avoid the counter-swing from Wrecker's crowbar, anticipating it when he realized he wasn't really hurting the man. Damn tough idiots, he thought to himself.

Wolverine and Black Ant were similarly occupied. Demolisher, her enormous steel ball gleaming even in the dim light of the living room's chandelier, relentlessly swung after Black Ant, who shrank and dove between her legs before growing back to his normal size and kicking her in the back. "Hey! Why didn't you go after Wolverine? This could have been prime girl on girl action!"

"You're disgusting," Laura snarled, leaping over Piledriver as the blonde man attempted to crush her with a superhuman punch, she deftly swiped her claws across Bulldozer's face. His helmet, empowered much like the rest of the group by the Asgardian magic that gave them their powers, mostly absorbed the strike -- but the sparks that it created blinded him, causing him to crash into Piledriver in a running tackle. "They might be strong and tough, but the Wrecking Crew are morons to a man - or woman. As long as we don't let them surround us, we can hold them off!"

"We're already surrounded; they outnumber us," Black Ant complained, narrowly shrinking in time to avoid a thrown chair.

"No we're not," Taskmaster replied coolly. With his focus on Wrecker, he could easily avoid his attacks; while the man was strong and nearly indestructible, he had nowhere near the skill or agility to lay a hand on Tony as the skull-masked mercenary alternated between Spider-Man and Daredevil's moves, pirouetting and ducking as he slapped a button hidden on his belt under his cloak. "You boys are messing up my new -house-. I don't think the housekeeper's gonna care for that too much."

"The hell are you on about, Taskmaster?" Wolverine asked, but he didn't need to answer her; she found out herself a moment later.

Thirty thousand pounds of adamantium came CRASHING through the ceiling; called by the signal on Taskmaster's belt, the gargantuan robot landed with a ground-shaking quake. Twenty feet tall at full height, the otherwise dark-grey automaton was dressed in a giant-sized french maid costume, swinging a massive dusting brush hard enough to send Piledriver flying back and into the wall, unconscious.

"Cleaning time, you roid-raging D-listers!" Tony cheered.

"What the..." Laura trailed off, looking somewhere between exasperated and amused. Black Ant, for his part, nearly got his head taken off by a backhand from Demolisher because he had burst into laughter hard enough to nearly fall over. Still, despite the silly costume, no one could doubt TESS-one's effectiveness; pulling back from Taskmaster out of frustration that he couldn't hit him, Wrecker went after the robot instead. "Just a machine! WRECK IT!" He roared, hauling off with a swing that could knock Thor for a loop. The pure adamantium plating of Tess's armor didn't so much as dent, and before he could wipe the surprise off his face, Wrecker was spiked into the ground by an enormous overhand swat.

"Damn thing's indestructible!" Piledriver exclaimed. "We gotta fall back! Between this and Wolverine, we're outmatched!"

"And Black Ant!" Eric insisted, shouting with both hands cupped over his helmet as the Wrecking Crew started to retreat.

"Nope!" Demolisher called out before disappearing through the same hole she'd made in the wall of the mansion. Still trying to fend off a viciously angry Laura slicing and kicking at their heels, the rest of the group followed after her. "This ain't over!" Wrecker shouted. "You got no idea what world of shit you got yourself into stealing those brats, Taskmaster!"

Placing his hands on his thighs, exhaling from behind his mask, Tony considered that. "Kids are all okay?"

Laura nodded matter-of-factly. "Black Ant's gone to get them," she said, nodding to the other mercenary who was making his way towards the stairs. "I heard the Wrecking Crew approaching in time to get them all to a safe room on the second floor -- except Cassandra. I didn't want to interrupt you, and..." She trailed off, looking annoyed at nothing in particular.

For a moment, Taskmaster couldn't figure out why; then he suddenly laughed out loud. "Hah! You trusted ME to protect her! Admit it!"

"...Your dedication to this mission so far has been -acceptable-," she stubbornly conceded. "Why is your robot dressed like a maid? It's not a sex thing, is it? Please don't let it be a sex thing."

"Of course not. Tessie's too pure for all that. She's saving herself for marriage." Tony made his way over to the idling automaton, patting it on the side. "Aincha, girl?"

"Hilarious," came a new voice. "If you two are done discussing fetishization of Taskmaster's pet robot, you should know that you aren't out of danger yet." Wolverine and Taskmaster both immediately set themselves into defensive positions as a masked woman in a skintight blue costumed stepped silently through the hole in the wall, a hooded black coat with yellow trim adding a severity to her otherwise sleek look.

"Who the hell are you?" Tony snapped, lifting his sword warily.

"...I'm the new Spymaster," she replied coolly, placing a hand on her hip. As her coat shifted back a little, Taskmaster could see a futuristic-looking pistol on her belt; some kind of energy weapon. "The Hub sent me. I'm supposed to help you extract a bunch of kids? If that's true, we need to hurry."

"We've been hurrying all night," Wolverine assured her. "You, however, took your sweet time getting here. Are you sure we can trust her, Taskmaster? I can't get a read on her at all - her smell's blocked, voice modulated...even more than yours."

Tony considered that, but ultimately nodded. "If she's here from The Hub, she's trustworthy. Besides, there's no one that the three of us can't take down together if she -does- try some bullshit."

"Finally, I'm being included!" Eric interjected as he descended the steps, the children in tow. Cassandra had joined them some time during the battle, wisely seeking out her fellow Scions instead of trying to get involved.

"...Yeah!" Tony replied, opting not to tell him that he was referring to TESS-one.

"Hey, who's she?" Eric asked of the newcomer.

Hub's agent. Black Ant, this is Spymistress--"

"Spymaster," she quickly corrected.

"...Spymaster, which is confusing but hey, it's a brave new world. She's gonna see to our extraction. Wolverine's got a point. What took you so long?" Taskmaster couldn't help but nurse a feeling of familiarity, despite having definitely never met this new Spymaster in his life. He'd trained the last one, sure - but that guy had died years ago. "...And do I know you? Did I train ya?"

"In a sense," she replied. "Hub warned me your brain was a bit soft, though she put it nicer. Let it suffice that I know how to handle myself, and you're to blame." Her wry tone, with the help of her voice modulator, almost held a hint of sincere irritation at the question, but Tony didn't miss that little detail. Not entirely. "As for the delay, The Hub decided it would be pragmatic for me to investigate this matter to make use of how to successfully extract the children. I've been following the Wrecking Crew for hours; I've got a cloaked quinjet on the roof, but you need to know something first. I placed a tracker on Piledriver. They're going to leave Bagalia, try to get in contact with their employer. You have to intercept them."

Exchanging a look with Taskmaster, Laura was the first to ask, "...And do you know who their employer is?"

Lifting her phone, Spymaster turned it around and used a hidden device on the back to project a holographic image, tossing the chip she extracted from the phone on the ground. The image was impressively high-resolution; so much so that Tony could count the strands on the moustache of the face displayed.

"You gotta be kidding me," he growled, barely above a whisper.

"I'm deadly serious," Spymaster assured them all, looking between Taskmaster, Wolverine, and Black Ant. "These children are considered property of the United States government, and the Wrecking Crew was just the first wave. I managed to jam their comms, but if they manage to get too far out of the city, you're going to have hell brought down on your heads. Now get the kids ready and let's go. Clock's ticking."

She turned to the children, who warily ducked behind Black Ant with surprising speed. Her body language softened immediately, her professional demeanor disappearing even with her mask on.

Taskmaster didn't see it. He was still staring at the projected hologram of General Thunderbolt Ross.

[thesalemsaga]

𝟭 — 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿

—  𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙖.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 6.8k words

𝙨 : salem, the mistress of evil, has been made aware of a resistance group being made within the walls of the empire academy, valhalla. meanwhile, young seren has a bit of an epiphany.

the most unfortunate thing about the mistress’s palace, is that nobody will ever hear you scream.

in the black mountain, the darkness hardly distinguishes day from night. and they say that after losing a track of time, of days, going on without gazing at a clock or a calendar or even getting a peek at the stars, can drive a person to mere insanity. that was what many claimed happened to the witch when she was confined into this palace and was left to her own accord.

although light never shone once through those tainted, ebony windows, life still continued within the monolith. although not the healthy life that one might expect, not the life with clear morals or allowing a faith to carry you through your good doings, not even that flicker of passion towards pass-times and careers that keep you up and moving, nothing of the sort was ever seen in these walls. rather, it seemed like everything about humanity had abandoned the creatures from within. 

the seemingly natural and human way of living had been lost within their countless decades here. time was not even a concept, they weren’t sure what use it was to count the hours and days and years you spend there, you’d just make it worse for yourself within the hope that tomorrow you will escape. and if not tomorrow, then in a week. and if not in a week, then in a month, two months, three. upon realizing that time might never come, you peer at those tallies drawn on the dark cobble walls and sneer and scream into an empty vacuum of space where nobody will hear you and save you.

it’s no use getting out either, not without the witch’s permission.

but even if you go out and are asked to return, you must pray to whatever deity remains on this cracked crater of a planet, in hopes that you return with good news. if not good news, decent news. but never bad news. bad news like, the fact that soldiers from the empire front seemed to have located the traces of one of salem’s henchmen.

yeah, good luck getting out of something like that.

inside one of the many halls of the dead palace, a sudden sound erupted. the scout wheezed and coughed as his head was lifted from the pool of water. tangled through raven locks and pulling and yanking, the gloved hands of the witch minded him like a puppet. they leaned over what could have been a pool, but the water was far from pristine or blue, it was a sea-weed green and at certain times, you might just spot a fin breaking through the surface before submerging once more.

this had been going on for nearly five minutes, but it felt like hours. having your head being forced down this certain pool would attract something ugly that lies in the deep end, the mere scent of your blood will put you in danger. but one could hardly care for the life of a mere scout when the mistress of evil has some minor, and by that, major problems on her hands.

“ m-my lady, please, show mercy! ”.

when she forced his head back down, salem’s eyes appeared fit to kill. two vermilion spots lacking any source of previous humanity, but even with the eyes, you wouldn’t take her for having been once a beautiful woman. the horns on her head were curled with ends as sharp as a double edged sword. her complexion was as lifeless as ash clouds summoned by an erupting volcano. salem hardly looked like a witch, she seemed fit to be a demon, a horned one, at that. and perhaps a part of her had some relation to the beings dwelling in the fiery pits below, especially once glancing at the limits of her ire.

minutes prior to this, the same scout she had sent out with about a dozen goblins had returned with news she had not been expecting. news regarding the empire, the people who have tried to take her down for the past two decades. there had been no success although salem was hardly an idiot, she was not one to underestimate the passion of vengeful humans, she was a vengeful human herself. it wouldn’t be long before they charged in with torches and pitch-forks to burn the witch.

resistance groups were growing within the walls, according to the chatter of some military men wandering between the boarder of what was the ukraine. the scout, a good fighter as well as an idiot, could have escaped without alerting the men of his presence and that of the dozen goblins he had brought with him, but he did not. the mere rustle in the bushes alerted the soldiers of a darker presence listening into their banter, and although killing was not on salem’s demand, it had to be done.

what could have been tyrants avoiding giving their status and identity away instead became an altercation that left one soldier cubed to pieces whilst the other fled, and to add salt to the wound, a stupid goblin who went after him was seen by the patrol ship they had parked in the area. checkmate for the empire soldiers.

to make a long story short, salem was fucked.

salem’s berserk force yanked the man’s head out from the mermaid pit and just a small flicker of pleasure manifested in those dead eyes. if there was one thing that she did love doing ( and she doesn’t love many things ) it was ensuing a well-taught lesson on consequences. and she was a rather strict teacher when it came to that.

“ listen to me, you filthy pig ”, she spat, sneering as the man found to catch his breath. her grip on his hair only tightened. “ you had clear instructions. you had them fucking written down, i even took some remorse since you have a god-awful memory and you want to tell me to have mercy, when you just fucking gave a major clue away to those empire fuckers?! ”.

the man continued to cough and wheeze as salem’s spat pure venom, “ what is it with you men, huh? can’t take orders from a woman? is your superiority alarm blaring so hard that you just won’t adhere to the fucking orders because a woman gave them to you? answer me, you pig! ”. he couldn’t. “ d-do you know how fucked i am? well not in the best way, i’ll tell you that. all of my efforts to make my location have gone to shit because you couldn’t keep your lousy ass out of trouble for five minutes. five years! five years stuck in this cold shithole and you gave it all away, you filthy animal. oh, i’m not going to show any mercy at all. ”

although the currents were disturbed by the abuse brought upon the scout, the waves did not fail to suddenly grow rampant, as if enraged. and around the same time, salem shoved his head down far enough for the water to engulf his shoulders. and it was not her who pushed him into the water, rather it was an unseen force yanking him into the depths. 

as the witch rose and paid one last glance at the pool over her shoulder, she took note of a red hue that rose to the surface. after that, silence.

elsewhere . . .

principal arthur armsend was a man of honor.

being a principal and leader to a new era of the world, leading boys and girls and what lies in between into a new age, a renaissance period that would take the world from being a dark and bleak place that they were no longer familiar with, into the peaceful planet they had known it to be a hundred years ago. and he did so by a sharp discipline he gave to all of his students.

classes started at eight o’clock and go on until about four, and every day, something new is taught. from alchemy and martial arts, to care of mythical creatures and history. three meals were held every day at the immense cafeteria, free time started after classes in which students were able to enjoy the open-air yards of this floating monolith in the sky. in fact, they were so high up that you might reach over the edge and touch a cloud.

 as opposed to many schools, the academy of valhalla was not one to waste time fooling around. third-year students and first-year students alike worked around the clock in order to harness the best skills in their arsenal in case the possibility of being sent out into missions came. and usually, when you were prepared, you might end up having the best results. students were told to be precise, to never make foolish mistakes, and to always remember why they were here.

although, nobody got it as bad as the principal’s daughter.

you’d expect the privilege to be very obvious; the ability to skip classes, to get out of trouble, to be an immediate social magnet, to be allowed out of the school and into the city to enjoy what it means to be young. any good parent with a somewhat loose way of raising their kids would spoil their child when they had the position they had. but for her, it was anything but that.

“ back straight, seren! ”.

she’s been at this for three hours. not joining her peers in the usual classes would mean that she would have to be doing something a little more different, a little more suited for her, and whilst many might role her eyes, they’d feel their stomach drop when they see the state that seren armsend is reduced to when brought into these private lessons.

at this point, her knees scrapped and legs clearly trembling, fatigued to the core, anyone could tell that seren was going through hell. these lessons tended to last three to four hours, but every time she so dared to look at the digital clock on the wall, her tutor would threaten to extend the time to fifteen minutes. ‘you wouldn’t take your eyes off your target in a real fight to see how long you’ve been at it’, he had said many times. and although it pained her, she had to agree.

her tutor, however, was none other than her old man. at the age of fifty, arthur still managed to maintain a certain posture to his stand whilst in battle that would trick anyone into aging him down a couple of years. he was a petite man, shorter than his daughter by two inches, and that most definitely did not stop him from butchering his daughter and bringing her to her limits in these training lessons.

how many times would seren have to be here a week, you ask? five times. fridays were generally the days in which she would have two of these sessions, one in the morning and the other placed right after lunch and she would only be back in her dorm at seven o’clock in order to crash, rest, and prepare for more lessons on a saturday morning.

iron thorn was clasped in her hand, arms tensing and aching to rest, her entire body ready to collapse the mere snap of the man’s fingers when he allowed her to rest but it wouldn’t be anytime soon. her training gear made her feel ten times heavier, and it was hot, boiling hot. but an armsend does not show struggle in the midst of a duel, they prefer to keep their enemies unsure of their condition to scare them or taunt them. you could only collapse once you’d finished what you started.

privilege, my ass. this is torture.

the clock was ticking towards the final bell which would dismiss all students but the ones in detention, and seren. “ finish what you started, come on. gaze up, for god’s sake fix that shoulder, and stop shaking your leg, you’ll stumble as soon as you lunge forward ”, she was used to receiving these comments, and she would take the feedback in an instant, because she knew arthur armsend when he was angry, a burden she shared in being his daughter.

iron thorn gave a minor whistle as she prepared to lunge once more, no essences were allowed to be used for the time being. if she did use something, the room might collapse. but she was tempted, oh young seren was tempted on pulling the trigger against the handle of her rapier and bring the ceiling to the ground. it would give her at least a minute to escape through the debris and run. 

even upon lunging with a perfect posture and speed, the blade clashed against the cane her father wielded. stabbing, withdrawing, lunging, withdrawing, flicking and withdrawing. each set of movement took a mere second because of her semblance, yet her father caught everything and she was beginning to grow slightly discouraged. although not as many could fight as well as him, she knew that there would be someone out there who could. one person. and if she were to cross paths with that person, she cannot steer to being passive. even though it was meagre simulation of a fight, seren was asked to treat it like a reality. and that, she did.

arthur bore a sudden attack that left seren scrambling to get out of her thoughts, darting in withdrawal with a backwards somersault and landing clumsily on her feet, her legs nearly rendering her weak enough to collapse yet she still had a bit of sharpness left in her to know that landing on your ass would certainly mean a scolding from your father later. 

this time, however, she did not have energy to raise her weapon to him as he pointed the end of his cane against her neck. she merely lifted her head and glanced upon his gaze that seemed rid of any emotion, meaning he was thinking, analyzing, arthur just wasn’t the type of man to wear his feelings on his face. he knew better than that.

seren didn’t. “ what was with that frown i saw? you know how many times i’ve taught you not to make your thoughts and emotions obvious on your face, your face has to be a blank canvas ”, he went on to say, lowering his cane and pressing the end against the ground. his posture straightened and he seemed to have dropped his defenses. she was not going to attack, however. “ seren. ”

“ m-my apologies, father ”, the girl gasped softly and blinked, verging dangerously close to the point of collapsing. something kept her awake, a part of her subconscious that wanted to keep her alive, her fight response. if not for it, then she would have perhaps been disowned or sent away just like her older sister.

now the only capable of heir in the family with the ripe age of eighteen, soon graduating from the academy, seren would have to carry the legacy of the cold armsend women who never once brought themselves close to failure. she would have to probably join the military route upon parting ways from valhalla, leading young soldiers to restore their lost land. although, if you ask her, if she had the choice, she would have picked the exploration route. unfortunately, being born in this family means that your fate is already decided for you from the moment your presence in your mother’s belly is announced.

needless to say, you have to stay on the route of perfection.

arthur sighed, it was clear he wasn’t happy. “ we’ll cut the lesson short today. you will make up for it with an extra hour tomorrow after class ”, he decided, and in order to avoid angering the man, the girl pursed her lips together and nodded. if one stared for just a moment, they would notice the trepidation in her eyes.

her tutor, father, and principal turned and left the training chamber they had been in for the past four hours. now vacant, the only sound echoing being the pants emanating from her cracked lips and although she wanted nothing more but to lay down on the floor, seren only averted her tired gaze to the immense windows giving her perhaps the best view she’s had of the world outside in a while.

although the empire had seen better days, the mountain of crete was a good place to re-build a city and make the public feel safer inside the walls. there weren’t many who wanted to venture out, probably because they had everything they could ever want in here. technology meant that they could produce food by cloning and distributing it to millions, money never seemed to be an issue as there were jobs for everyone, though it was said that there lived some people outside of the walls, in mainland greece who took care of farms and cattle and had a somewhat older way of living that would have been seen in the medieval times. they were closer to the truth of the world, and the fact that at least a dozen would apply annually to move within the walls said something.

but the talk of the wild never petrified seren as it did to others. they had returned to a time where they believed society was safer, and as soon as you stepped into a zone with no laws or mentions of morals, you’d be in danger. yet she’s read stories of people who lived just fine in these conditions, monsters or no monsters. and though she shared some fears with the general public, the wild was not one of them.

if anything, seren was infatuated with the idea of going outside, of seeing the world for what it was and not for what others claimed it to be. they hardly showed images captured by the military when they leave the walls and attend an expedition, only returning in a week after taking geographical calculations and hurriedly leaving. hardly the military you want protecting you.

seren claimed that with her father in line, things would change. the third year graduates from the year before had gotten good results, one of them had succeeded in establishing a base in almost every continent that remained. and although hardly anyone visited those bases, they were there in case you found yourself lost and in serious need of help. many other alumni valhalla students made technological advancements towards transport and population control, others went more of a political way and started working alongside governors to change the shape of their monarchy. 

it was almost a guarantee that those who leave valhalla are destined for good things, but it felt as if seren would not be able to join her peers in that sense and it pained her to such an extreme where she wanted to jump out from those balconies, land in cold water and swim her way out of the city. yet she would have to return at some point, there is always a way back home after an adventure, even if it’s a short one.

seren looked down at her sword and tapped the floor with the tip for a moment, the blade had never once been blunt and yet it seemed like it was in desperate need of a recovery. it must have been caused by the countless daily training that hardly left her any time to catch up with her other subjects. her father was tempted on making a fighting machine out of her, and although she loved a good duel, seren was not a natural fighter. she was more of a diplomat, if you ask her.

lost in her thoughts, seren didn’t exactly hear the beeping sounds emitting from the door of the training chamber until it had come to her side and then began to feel a sensation against her leg. upon looking down, her frown disappeared and her eyes turned to crescents.

“ hi, ted. “

valhalla was known for having ‘familiars’, little creatures often used to advise students and although you couldn’t own them, you could befriend them. seren had known ted since he was made, which was roughly twelve years ago. he has been her friend long before he got signed up to be a companion to her school. at the age of six, ted was the robot she played with when she was alone.

smart, short and oh so adorable, ted-ee 012 mostly helped doctor lin with matters in computing lessons for those who lean more towards the technology route. but he was far from the war machine the school fabricated and more of a health robot, charged by water and able to detect sadness from students. it was probably why he had approached seren to begin with, pulling at her leg with his small hands.

he let out a happy beep as he waved at her, his eyes as pleasant and polite as always. “ i wasn’t sad, you know, i was just thinking ”, she said, crouching to his level. he stared at her, blinking for a couple of seconds with a disapproving sound. “ what, don’t believe me? ”. and then it clicked. “ oh, you got upgraded, didn’t you? ”.

ted hardly got any enhancements done to his figure, as he didn’t really have any flaws and his feedback from the students was always exemplar. but this time around, it was useful. because the upgrade enabled him to tell whether people were lying or not and it worked well during exam season where many would be asked whether they cheated or not.

seren let out a minor chuckle and shook her head, “ well there’s no point lying to you. but you never tell anyone, so i suppose it’s fine. ” she patted the top of his smooth head and then stood, holding iron thorn to her and then tucking it back into its sheath. “ care to get some fresh air? ”. on a happy note, seren left the chamber, ted hovering after her.

the halls of valhalla would usually be empty after classes were over, most students tended to flee outside and look for something fun to do, which was mostly seen in throwing frisbees, playing chess, going sunbathing. some returned to the lounge and played games or watched movies. others returned to their dorms to rest, and a small percentage fled to the library for some extra time studying.

a part of seren was almost glad that there weren’t many people to see her tired state. ted had offered her a mirror through his digital face and she was quick enough to adjust her cotton candy hair and adjust the blue bow pushing the locks of her hair back. she was boiling under this training gear, but she would be out of it sooner as her lesson was cut short, but it was clear she was going to owe her father an apology afterwards for her wandering mind. little things upset her father, but what majorly puts him off is when seren is not focused. it was the reason for most of their arguments and disagreements.

the dorms were in the lower parts of valhalla though the girl took a small detour outside to catch her breath. in the midst of a sunny afternoon, the sky was beginning to turn into hues of pink, purples and oranges as the sun thought about setting. the wind batting against her skin was all that she needed, especially as she neared to the open air yards with artificial grass, smooth concrete paths leading students around the perimeter of the entire yard that seemed to go on for miles and miles. some benches and picnic tables were scattered, mostly occupied by first years who wanted to catch up after their lessons.

seren hardly steps outside, held inside by her tasks, but stepping outside was a freeing sensation, her arms folded and rested against the balcony railings, the wind was best from where she stood and she could have stood there for hours if she didn’t keep telling herself to return to her dorm and get as much rest as she could.

out of everything that caught seren’s attention, a game of football stole it in the end. most of the boys tended to be relatively active and sporty, that was a given as they had to be active if they wanted to carry heaven guns or broadswords with them in battle. seren became immersed in it for a moment, not the type of person to find kicking a ball around for ninety minutes particularly interesting but this time around, she couldn’t really help it.

what mostly caught her attention was one of the boys playing, and as far as she was concerned, she knew who he was. not the person to read the ranks too deeply, seren would only glance at the names and the pictures and this one was one she recognized. kailen cassius, rank number six, an archer. perhaps the most remarkable thing about him, however, what his height.

he had an air to him, though, that of someone who could handle things himself but also relied on teamwork and seemed to be about unity and working things out in a more collective fashion rather than being selfish all the time. he seemed like a good person, she thought. someone she’d definitely befriend and would be able to trust when faced with danger, but being alone didn’t permit her to join any teams. her father said that the only time she’d ever really join her peers in something of the sort was if she served as a tutor.

seeing as how so many of the students were set into groups, she wandered whether being in one would ensure that she would leave and tread beyond the walls, but she doubted anyone would really want to be in a team with her unless if they wanted extra credit or wanted to dump all the work onto her. and since seren wasn’t one to say no to people so easily, she might have to deal with being the one carrying all the work since she had the skills and smile as everyone got the best results despite having done nothing. it happened once in her primary school, and it was what shaped her into the timid, goody-two-shoes of a person that she is.

but say if she were to tutor a group. she’s seen third-year students do it mostly with second-year students who needed some help, but it would work and be the only time where seren might be able to use her position to get what she wants. it might make her father trust her just a tiny bit more, but she never knew exactly when it came to arthur armsend, he wasn’t one to be pleased so easily.

still, she was willing to give it a go.

when ted suddenly beeped, seren was drawn out of her thoughts once more only to realize that she had potentially been staring at kailen based on the way that well, he was looking right back at her. she had totally zoned out and had not managed to snap out of it when she felt the confused gaze of the boy on her. thank god for ted, otherwise she would have made much more of a fool of herself than she already had.

seren blinked and leaned away from the railings as soon as she began to feel her ears and cheeks burning pink. ted let out a confused noise, “ why didn’t you snap me out of it as soon as i started staring? ”. the robot tilted his head to the side with a level of confusion. “ he probably thinks i’m a total weirdo now! ”.

when ted let out an apologetic sound, seren sighed and risked a look back at the boy who had returned to his game, seeming more carefree but not before their eyes locked for a moment and she felt a wave of realization.

seren is hardly one to have an epiphany, but what she will tell you is that the feeling cannot easily be described. connecting the dots, her blank expression was replaced by that of surprise as her eyes grew in size and her pursed lips parted only for her to turn on her heel and start pacing quickly back inside, ted following in suit with some confused beeps.

the top six students are all third-years, and although the top student was often taken out of lessons to engage in more practical work outside of valhalla, that still left five people who were very capable of what she had in mind. she thought the tutoring idea would be pointless, but after her thoughts rang in that training chamber, after she stepped outside and looked towards the walls, after realizing that the world might end up caving in on itself if nothing was done, after such an epiphany, she couldn’t possibly sit there and do nothing.

seren knew her father would never let her out to do something like this on her own, but she knew she could perhaps impose an idea he could not deny. he wanted a daughter that would make changes, and after the death of one possible heir and the marriage of another, the fate settled on seren when she did not wish for it. but she could not change this about herself. but she knew that if good results came out of this, if her epiphany was right and she had perhaps hit the gold mine, that the world would somehow improve. and that was something she was taught from a young age.

her mother left when she was eight but the moral lessons stuck with her for ten years and it is probably why her thirst for knowledge of the outside world and the drive to better things was not leaving her anytime soon. the action of doing good things was deeply embedded into her, perhaps it was a genetic thing or the way her mother shortly raised her. she was a rebel without a cause, a woman who ventured out and never cared for the warnings she got or the many injuries she returned with. because at least she was helping. 

so perhaps it was time to start being a little selfish on her end. seren knew her father wouldn’t be in the best of moods after their lesson that afternoon, yet her blood remained boiling, adrenaline causing her heart to race after and her steps to quicken until ted stopped following her and let her run off on her own.

her father’s office was at the top floor, and after a long elevator ride to the top, seren stumbled into the room.

the porcelain tiles she stepped in were drawn with art she had never quite been able to name before. perhaps it was a renaissance-style painting, what with the figures and halos and clouds. every time she entered her father’s room, it felt like entering a museum. he was an archaic man with older, more traditional principles despite being inclusive. but he was one to separate his inclusiveness from his professional way of working, because no matter what you were, he still extended a hero out of you.

the mahogany desk was usually empty as he would have meetings on a friday evening but she had caught him seemingly before he could prepare for said meeting. he seemed to have turned on his record player, appearing blissful whilst listening to an opera piece seren has heard all too many times. the china cup in his gloved hands saw steam rising from what seemed to be his usual chamomile tea. three cubes of sugar, no less. 

the minor ding of the elevator made him raise his head when seren approached his desk. he paid her a mere glance, raising a brow. “ why are you not changed? i thought we’d be having dinner together ”, he stated, blowing the steam from his cup gently. “ don’t waste time, seren. ”

“ i need your permission for something, father. ”

arthur let out a sigh. when seren approaches him with a request as such, he often knows what it will be. permission to head to town for the weekend, permission to continue her tap lessons, permission to head to the beach. almost all of those requests were never really granted for the mere reason that he did not want her attention diverting to something else when so much had to be done. but he seemed to sense something was different, he knew his daughter well known and one thing he was unfamiliar with was the glistening pair of eyes like his wife’s staring back at him.

“ although i may be only seven in the ranks, i feel like . . . i-i feel like i know what i want to do before i graduate ”. she quickly took her seat in one of the chairs facing him across his desk. she took notice of his cane resting on the side and gulped.

days ago, he had mentioned that her older sister had one final act as a valhalla student that marked her as a significant alumni. although she married shortly after, she still made history by being the student who uncovered many lost articles and items in other continents, items rich in cultural value as they carried history of their dying planet. and she had done this before graduating. arthur imposed the idea that seren should do something similar.

seren proceeded, “ might i suggest gathering the top five students and allowing me to tutor them? ”.

“ seren. ”

“ let me finish, p-please! ”.

the girl clasped her hands together and forced a meek gaze down, “ i have all these skills in my arsenal and i highly doubt i’ll ever be able to use them because i can’t apply them to the world outside like the others. but perhaps i can let someone else take the lead for me. i-i could teach them what i’ve been taught and hope that they’ll carry it on, l-like a legacy if they choose to step outside of the walls. ”

arthur put his cup down, clearing his throat. “ is this just a reason for you to step outside? you know what i’m going to say, seren ”, his tone appeared highly disinterested, but she was not going to be discouraged this time around.

“ father . . . you and i both know that we have the people needed to do something about what’s happening to the world outside ”, she inquired, still no response. silence lingered until the apprehension faded. “ you found salem’s whereabouts, did you not? ”.

the principal, although he didn’t appear shocked, gave it all away through the way he dropped his spoon into his cup. he rose his gave with a clenched jaw and peered at her, possibly questioning how she’d come to such a conclusion. but it was no rumor, it was true. the general said the men found one of her scouts spying on them near the ukraine, meaning she couldn’t be too far. five years of hunting salem after her escape, only to finally discover the continent she hid in.

“ seren, listen to me closely ”, he warned, leaning over his desk slightly with a grave tone. “ i understand you wish to be a hero. but you will not be the hero who died trying to kill the witch that brought the world to its end. no daughter of mine will do something of the sort. ”

seren continued to fight back, “ but i won’t be the one doing it, it’ll be five qualified people doing it on my behalf because i taught them what other teachers do not. ”

“ seren. ”

“ and you act as if the years of training has been for no reason. what, am i just going to have these skills at my disposal and never use them? did i just waste nearly sixteen years of my life being taught something in case there’s a war? ”, she spat. she had never spoken to her father like this, and in a dark corner of her mostly innocent mind, she was enjoying it. she felt like her mother. “ father, there will be a war regardless. especially if we stick around doing nothing about the clear danger. i’m going to have to use these skills but i could also use them to prevent it all. ”

the man grew quiet. somewhere in his mind, he probably felt something similar. she had heard the stories, her father wanted to be the valiant one in his family to carry the armsend name, but he was the one who deeply injured himself to the point where he had to give up his heroic hopes and let it become mere fable. he didn’t want the same thing happening to seren, but he knew that this time, matters would be different. she would have help.

and sending your kid into a world that is unknown to even the smartest men in the world was a horrifying thought, but it is in like every tale, the one holding the hero back will always have to let them go. that is how the best heroes are made, the ones who were given the chance to chase after their happy ending, not he ones ho were held back. what good is a sheltered hero?

besides, she might end up finding the worthy opponent she had always dreamed of meeting. and if it was salem, so be it. call her reckless or obsessed with heroism, but seren knew she wouldn’t be able to stay within these walls for much longer.

her father knew this as well, even if it was clear he didn’t want to.

“ are you certain about this, seren? ”.

no, she wanted to say. she had hardly given any logic aside from her own hopes and expectations which could be mistaken as mere childish fantasy and desperation to be outside, but it is better not to ask her how she knew it would work out. she just knew.

“ yes ”, the girl breathed and bit her lip slightly. “ i think mother would have wanted to me to do this. i’m an explorer just like her, father. you know that very well. ”

arthur chortled, glancing bitterly at his cup of tea. “ i wish you weren’t. i wish you were more like your older sister, at least you’d stay out of trouble. but you’re the only heir. after ophelia, i’m highly uncertain that there’ll be anyone else ”, he spoke. she felt her blood run cold. but when he looked up at her, he grunted. “ but you don’t have a single cowardly bone in your body. you’re not like isabella and not like me. you’re an explorer, as you’ve stated. ”

“ father . . . ”.

arthur rose a hand and stood, cup in hand and cane in another. he brought himself up from his chair and moved steadily towards the tinted windows, peering outside into a twilight sky. “ you ask a lot of me, seren. not only might i lose my daughter, but i might also lose five innocent lives if all of this goes wrong. and i will not let it be for your fantasy and mere childish heroism. and yet, a part of me knows that soon, salem is going to find a way to harm everyone . . .”

the indecisiveness from the man was making the girl think much more deeply about the matter than she was intending. if someone got hurt, it would be her fault mainly for putting them in danger, but that was why she planned on training them. they were capable fighters, whoever they were. it was a matter of luck and precision, two opposing forces that might have to work together to make all of this work.

“ seren. ”

the girl lifted her gaze to see the man she so dearly admired and loved, the father who was a professor as well as a friend and a leader. she loved him so dearly that she would not think to ask something like this unless if she one hundred percent meant it. and she did.

“ if you can convince them to join you, i will grant your request. but be weary of the time, because it has become of the essence.”

and so, her adventure begins.

[diaxfeliz]

THE SUPREME LEADER’S SUSPICIONS • Kuruk

» Star Wars / Kuruk

… Y/N meets Kuruk when they both coincidentally station themselves at the same vantage point when they’re both tasked to cover for their teammates during an important assembly.

PROMPTS:

“All the thoughts in my head spin around like a hurricane.” — Can’t Live Without You, Owl City “Look at you needing me.” — All The Good Girls Go To Hell, Billie Eilish

A/N: I haven’t seen the graphic novels for the Knights of Ren, but there ain’t nothing wrong with headcannons of a couple of these boys.

Status : Acquaintances Relationship : Professional

WORD COUNT: 2155

A potential that doubts itself is helped by a believer.

The assembly the was held earlier in the day was postponed because of an assassin that had managed to trespass into the courtyard. They were sniped by one of the assembly snipers that was stationed across Kuruk himself. He was confused on why they had sniped a random man down at first, but when news arrived that it was an assassin, he was surprised that he hadn’t noticed that first.

He couldn’t though because the assassin had not even done anything out of the ordinary to bring attention upon himself. The sniper shot the man down as if they already knew they were an assassin. How they knew that was a mystery to everyone, and was a mystery that puzzled Kuruk.

Hours had passed since then and him, Vicrul and Kylo Ren sat around a circular table near the bar of the cafeteria. The place bustled with life, but it wasn’t too much of a bother to the Knights of Ren.

Vicrul glanced at their leader who looked preoccupied with his thoughts as he stared into his coffee, his eyes reflecting the dark liquid.

“Is something on your mind, Supreme Leader?” Vicrul asked as he took a sip of his own coffee pompously.

Ren slowly lifted his head at Vicrul’s question. From whatever state he was pulled out of, he seemed dazed from the look in his eyes.

“Earlier during the assembly, I had felt a Force-user’s presence.” Ren began, his voice full of nothing but seriousness as he spoke. He stared straight ahead with a stoic expression. “Not amongst the crowd we had sat with, but at the sniper stations.”

“Are you sure you had not felt Kuruk’s presence?” Vicrul questioned and turned to Kuruk who sat next to him. “Because if there would be another Force-user, we would’ve been aware of them from the beginning—”

“No.” Ren clenched his fists. “This one’s only recently harnessed this power. They’re aware of their newfound ability, but can’t pinpoint the reason behind it. With the Shadow they possess, they have great potential to join our ranks and receive proper training to use that ability to our advantage.”

As if on cue, you, the sniper in question, entered the cafeteria and caught the Knight’s attention. Kuruk faintly recognized you as you came in. Despite the large distance between your stations, he recognized the glint in your eyes especially when it reflected the light of the sun. The hesitation that was in them when you had shot down the assassin was still present, but it was somehow masked by the confidence you exuded.

“That’s the one.” Ren said to his two colleagues.

Kuruk hummed and took a sip of his own coffee. When he now considered Ren’s claim of your Force-sensitivity, it wasn’t such an off-world idea considering the display you had presented earlier with your murder of the assassin.

You approached the bar and sat down on one of the high stools. The bartender chatted with you, an exchange of words the Knights couldn’t hear. The doors to the cafeteria flung open again, letting another person in, but the three paid no mind to them.

You turned out of instinct to the person who just came in, and the smile you had on your face faltered at the sight of them. Kuruk turned to the man in confusion and wanted to see what you saw in him. There was nothing out of the ordinary with him though.

You turned away from the man to collect your thoughts on your plan of action. You were getting the same gut feeling as you did with the assassin earlier. A hum filled your head as you thought more about him and began to feel his foreign aura. It was definitely unlike the ones of the attendees of the assembly despite his uniform.

When you looked again, the hum in your head only got stronger. Like your body wasn’t your own, you got off your stool and discreetly pulled out a vibroknife. You were only guessing again, but he was another outsider — another assassin.

You waited for a cue, anything that advances your vision of his actions, and when he placed a hand behind Ren’s chair. You sprinted at him. The blade in your hand plunged into his stomach as he doubled over. He let out an incomplete gasp when you twisted the vibrating blade, cutting the muscle and fat with ease.

You had drawn attention to yourself at this point. The people who had heard the man gasp turned to you with faces of surprise. The man’s blood had covered your hand and wrist, but you didn’t hesitate when you pulled away and threw a punch at his face, knocking him down.

He died almost instantly from blood loss when he laid on the ground. You took your vibroknife and a step back to avoid the blood that pooled under his body. You shook your hand to get rid of the dripping blood, getting it everywhere. There was a part of you that regretted what you did, in fear that you murdered an important official just as almost everyone in the room was, but another part assured you you did the right thing.

Murmurs filled the room as Vicrul involved himself and began to search the man’s pockets. He believed you had a reason to do what you did despite its suddenness. He found the man’s ID card, and sure enough his picture did not at all match his face despite having the correct uniform.

“It’s a spy.” Vicrul announced to the whole cafeteria with his face scrunched in disgust.

“I was right.” You breathed and fell back onto a barstool.

As commotion stirred from the murder of another assassin, Ren and Kuruk turned to you as you cleaned yourself up from the blood you had gotten all over yourself. Kuruk stared in awe at how you had identified another spy when they had done nothing suspicious. Ren, on the other hand, was relieved that he wasn’t assassinated when he hadn’t noticed the person in the beginning.

The two men approached you. You lifted your head at the sight of Ren, unmasked like the other two Knights, in the corner of your eyes. He stopped in front of you with Kuruk at his side.

“You must be one of Ryyte’s units.” he said and held out his hand.

“Captain Y/N L/N, designated sniper for this assembly.” You shook his hand. There was a hint of hesitation in your voice, but over all, you were curious on what a high-ranking officer wanted to do with you. “Can I help you, Supreme Leader?”

Ren cleared his throat and stood tall with his arms casually at his sides. “I should thank you for saving me from the attempted assassination. I must admit that I didn’t notice them.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the Supreme Leader’s thanks, but honestly, you didn’t feel that your gamble was something they should be glad about.

“I had only guessed their status as a spy, but I’m glad my guess saved you from near death.” you chuckled uncomfortably.

“I beg to differ that that was simply a guess, Captain.” Ren said. He paused, fueling your curiosity. Kuruk saw the glint in your eyes glow brighter when you widened them. Ren smirked. “I have yet to speak with Admiral Ryyte concerning this, but I wanted to invite you to join our ranks — become a Knight.”

His offer startled you. It didn’t seem that he was joking with you that you weren’t sure how to respond. “It’s an honor, sir,” you said. “but I thought the Knights of Ren only accepted the Force-sensitive.”

Ren only looked at you with anticipation. He wanted you to piece it together yourself, and when you did, you were less sure about him joking.

“Wait… you aren’t implying that—” A switch clicked in your head when your eyes finally landed on Kuruk. He had his mask when he was at the sniping station, but you recognized his stature and a bit of his uniform. “Oh, it’s you.” you blurted.

Ren looked between the both of you. “Do you two perhaps know each other?”

“No,” You shook your head. “but he was the one across my station during the assembly.”

“Kuruk.” He shook your hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

Ren hummed as you introduced yourselves and shook his head. “Now that the introductions have been resolved, I’d like you to consider my offer, Captain L/N. I sense potential in your skills, but” He raised his hand. “I’ll give you time to think over it. I wouldn’t want you to be unwilling when we begin training.”

You chuckled at his out-of-character behavior and nodded gratefully. “Thank you for your consideration, Supreme Leader. I’ll make sure to forward you my answer as soon as possible.”

Ren nodded and promptly left after your assurance. He was serious in giving you time to think about it because he knew your consent would have a large part to play in your development. You and Kuruk watched as he left the cafeteria, the doors swinging closed behind him.

“The Supreme Leader believes I have the Force?” you asked Kuruk who turned to you.

“You couldn’t have identified those spies out of pure chance, L/N,” he explained, understanding his master’s suspicions. “let alone how you foresaw how they’d act.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “It hurts my head when I do that — read people.” You took your towel and began to wipe off the blood that covered your vibroknife. “All the thoughts in my head spin around like a hurricane.”

The commotion you had caused died down quite a bit,  but the body you had left was still there. You stared at it, remembering the thoughts running through your head before you plunged the knife in him without hesitation.

“You see, people tend to have a certain aura to them, I simply interpret those auras and predict their actions.” You sheathed your blade. “It’s easy to foresee their actions when they’re predictable in the first place.”

Kuruk hummed, unconvinced that you did just that to identify the assassins. Cardo had just entered the room and was partially startled by the presence of a dead body. Kuruk felt as if he needed to prove to you that Ren’s suspicions were right and placed a hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“That’s Cardo, a fellow Knight.” He pointed to his colleague and you looked. “More often than not, people make incorrect assumptions about his character.”

You looked at the Knight and slowly, the hum in your head returned. Kuruk saw that you were falling into your state of focus and inched close to your face to whisper in your ear.

“Interpret his aura and tell me what you see, L/N.” he said, his hot breath on your skin.

He pulled away to give you space and crossed his arms as you did your ‘interpretation’. The humming grew stronger as information entered your head to a point you were getting a headache, yet you persisted.

“Cardo, a Knight of Ren.” You mumbled. “As reckless as he would seem, he’s not despite his tendencies to ignore precision and fire blindly but strategically. He’s your… armorer, a skilled one at that. He’s modified his arm cannon one too many times and is definitely proud of it. He’s calm, as of now, but he can become… loud. He’s the loudest one out of all of you Knights.”

“That’s right. An assumption correct at every detail.” Kuruk smirked. “Now what is he going to do?”

Your eyes flicked towards the commotion and back to Cardo. You blinked and a simulation played before your eyes of the succeeding events. You carefully observed what would happen and lead Kuruk along with what you saw.

“He’ll join your friend at the examination of the body. The one at the adjacent table will accidentally spill their drink on Cardo when they bump into him. He’ll start a fight with the man and no doubt will Cardo annihilate him.”

You blinked again and the simulation disappeared, bringing you back into reality. Kuruk patiently watched as the events you had described happened in perfect succession. Cardo easily lifted the man off the floor which prompted Vicrul to stop him.

Kuruk smirked. “This isn’t chance, L/N. This is the Force the Supreme Leader senses in you.”

“Well,” You shrugged uncomfortably at the thought of you being Force-sensitive. “the Force certainly works in mysterious ways.”

“Please do consider the Supreme Leader’s request. It would be a pleasure having someone of your skills join us though it does have a… heavy admission.” He turned to leave. “I understand how much your current status means to you, but I assure you we will be worth your while.”

“Look at you needing me.” You chuckled. “I’ll make sure to consider it, Kuruk.”

[rosenrot234]

explaining Preacher’s playlist

Putting this under a read more break because there’s a lot. I was bored so I finally tried to explain the reasons each song is there. Granted some only have a sentence or two. Not everything needs a giant essay response. Warning though, talks of abuse do take place.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLT9aIxp8n042hnvTQMd7vOTVJp2utaZwp

1: Beim Ersten Mal Tuts Immer Weh / The First Time Always Hurts -Just one last time please be nice to me Come over here Just be nice to me and come and sit beside me here Just one last time please be nice to me Come over here One more time again Come on give me just a little bit now Come on let me have a final kiss now Come on give me just a little bit now Fool me please just one more time again -I wanted to start Preacher's playlist with something surprisingly dark rather than edge into the darker parts later on. So Preacher's trauma is right in the listeners face and how in a fucked up way he still misses someone that really fucked them over. -Especially with the last bit of the song "Why don't you want me no more?" Bishop would often ignore him as punishment and it would fuck with Preacher's head a lot and how he just wanted to be in his good graces again.

2: For Your Entertainment -I call this one of his "mask" songs. How Preacher often tries to appear to people. It also ties in a bit with how confident he felt in the past when Bishop was around. I wanted to counter the "wtf" start of the playlist with something boppy. Since once Preacher catches wind that someone is figuring out what happened to him, he's all lies and glamour to distract people from talking about it.

3: You Think You're a Man -I kinda wanted to include this song because the listener would have trouble figuring out "Okay is Preacher singing this or Bishop?"

4: Message in a Bottle -Catchy little song but it helps explain how even if Preacher made a bunch of new friends he still felt isolated due to having to hide a lot as a Tiefling. -Love can mend your life But love can break your heart

5: Mony Mony -I always pictured Preacher singing this with his friends. There's not a lot to say for every single song. I just wanted to get mood music for Preacher's gang of buddies.

6: Out There -More alluding to Preacher's lonliness and how Bishop also used that to have some sort of control over him. With all his friends, Bishops word really was the only word that had meaning / value to him.

7: Medicate -Yeah Preacher's coping mechanisms weren't the healthiest

8: A Penny for a Tale -Mocking the greedy? Say no more

9: Goo Goo Muck -Lore wise I always pictured Preacher making this song up on the spot to entertain his friends

10: Lost Boys -While this song is about vampires I just felt it fit still with Preacher and his buddies. His playlist early on covers a lot of that part of his life.

11: The Rocky Road to Dublin -Yet more "Just singing with friends"

12: Zydrate Anatomy -I mean lorewise he did deal in drugs both real and fake in his mid teens so I wasted no time getting this song onto the list.

13: Open Your Eyes -More mood music to his early teens. Trust me I'll have more to say with other songs

14: Back and Forth -This song screams Preacher when he's scamming people to me

15: Drinkin with Jesus -At first I picked this one because cmon. A Tiefling called Preacher , a song called Drinkin with Jesus seemed perfect. Then I realized "Oh shit the lyrics fit". A lot of the time Preacher had to be completely alone to show just how messed up he was back then even before his assault.

16: Feel Good Inc -A lovely mix of isolation, "The world is corporate bullshit" , and more. You damn right I'm putting this on the list.

17: The Cave -Timeline wise this is a bit of a jump into the future where Preacher is in another down mood and tries to recover from it. -But I will hold on hope And I won't let you choke On the noose around your neck And I'll find strength in pain And I will change my ways I'll know my name as it's called again -That last lyric always made me think of Preacher actually maybe someday going back to using his birth name. Berlyn. And just finding his own identity again. Away from Bishops shadow. This would be around the time he grows his trademark purple mustache. It's a small decision but it was still an important decision since Bishop used to even control how he looked.

18: Devils Dance Floor -CMON. DEVILS Dance Floor. Perfect Tiefling music. I also wanted something to pick the mood of the playlist back up a little after that dip.

19: A Touch of Evil -Aka the most metal "Gay pining" song I'm aware of. The playlist takes a turn of "But I want his attention so bad" and how he wanted to be in a proper relationship with Bishop. Teenage hormones are rough so I'd imagine they'd be double rough as a Tiefling.

20: Skills in Pills -More showing Preacher's distructive habits and drug selling. I wanted to avoid putting Rammstein on the list because it'd be predictable as fuck. So I settled with Lindemann.

21: Jigolo Har Megiddo -Preacher playing up the whole "I'm made from demons" thing for flirty singing.

22: Come Out and Play -And we jump back into more "street punk shenanigans"

23: You Look So Fine -More pining and angst. I really liked sudden dips in mood with this playlist. Like his outer walls are cracking and you're getting peeks at the sensitive stuff going on in his head.

24: I Wanna be Yours -Even more pining because I'm an asshole

25: Sleeping Powder -I wanted something comical to again lift up the mood of the playlist so this song was perfect. Just that "I'm back! Where are we going?" makes me think "Okay I'm done being sad, wait what are you guys doing today?" Also the faint "broken" from 2D in some parts of the song were fitting.

26: Sandmann -Preacher's super protective of kids so this was perfect

27: Deleted this one, moving on.

28: Breaking the Habit -One of the  many times Preacher TRIES to get out of his self destructive habits and loops but its left unknown if he got out this time or not. This song fits in pretty much any part of his timeline with Bishop. Adding more to the "loop" of abuse that will be talked about near the end of the playlist.

29: Unzerstorbar ( Indestructable ) -I broke my "no german lyrics" rule with this song but I HAD to. It's such a "FUCK YEAH WE'RE YOUNG AND INVINCIBLE" song that ends on a more quiet note that always made me think "Deep down they know they're not" -As a child I was - I was ahead of all. As a child I was cold and I figured out how much time I have left anyways, because I am indestructible.

I was cool - I was hard and I knew what's goin' on. I was clever and smart and have considered long, Why am I made of steel? What is the meaning that I am indestructible?

This world is so small, so much lesser than I. Super Hero - all alone. Whether I like it or not. Meanwhile, I ask myself: is there someone like me here?

30: Sympathy for the Devil -Again. HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU NOT HAVE THIS SONG ON A TIEFLING PLAYLIST?

31: All I Want -I always pictured this song during a hectic chase either in the sky or on the ground. Preacher is a speedy boy so this was a good fit ( The fact that this song was in Crazy Taxi also makes me think of speed )

32: Action -I thought this fit the mood of Unzerstorbar and wanted to continue the vibe

33: Hit That -More chaotic city vibe music

34: Down the Rabbit Hole -I wanted to include Adam Lambert again since he's early in the playlist.

35: The Heart of the Riding Man -I blame Fennah for getting me into this song. The lyrics were just such a fun match. Preacher might be a Tiefling. But Bishop will always be the "Devil" in this song. -Oh the heart, the heart of a riding man Scarred and cut himself from the devil he ran Oh, from the devil he ran

36: Komm Zuruck / Come Back -DID YALL WANT MORE PINING? Well it's back and much more chaotic this time. -I've missed you long enough asked myself, where exactly you are and if you still bite your nails we planned everything perfectly with false papers and well covered and then suddenly you did it on your own account.

I've had enough, get me out of here don't give up on me now.

Wherever you are (wherever you are) oh, I'm with you Whoever you kiss (whoever you kiss) oh, I forgive you Make your way (make your way) and then release me come back, don't make me wait

37:  Sick Boys -Imma be real with you. I'm a slut for Social Distortion so I had to include SOMETHING with them

38: God is a Popstar -One of the first songs I put to this character and it's still such a perfect fit with the religious stuff in Preacher's story. The video is even nice as a helper because you could imagine Preacher is in the place of Jesus here. All dolled up then thrown away.

39: Applause -More flashy "haha nothing is wrong I just want attention" songs since Preacher is a greedy mother fucker when it comes to attention.

40: Trust Me -This is getting to the important part of the playlist. His relationship with Bishop was toxic as fuck. Preacher also did lots of things he didn't want to but the reward was Bishops attention. So with the previous song and this it really shows the leftover effects Bishop had on him. Preacher is one hell of a good liar thanks to Bishop. So in a way. He does have the risk of becoming someone elses Scorpion. Those mental walls I mentioned earlier are breaking at this point.

41: Fireflies -The sad truth that Preacher still misses and thinks about Bishop. The lyrics here are meant to really tug at you as Preacher's barrier is crumbling at this point. -If all you ever get from the sonnet is the count of the fall of man Every call and cost made to your heart You were in the kind of game that put the force in me I was ever chasing fireflies -Sometimes I follow a firefly He takes me into the night Baby, I just survive I got drunk, I'm sorry Am I losing you? Sometimes I follow a firefly He takes me into the night Baby, I just survive I got drunk, I'm sorry Am I losing you?

42: Prison Sex -Probably the most important song in the playlist. I wanted that earlier darkness to come back full force now that the listener is at probably the most vulnerable part of Preacher's head. It's disgusting and that's the point. Preacher finally fully admits to himself about his rape. And the song implies he has a huge risk of continuing Bishops cycle of abuse. Both the abuser and the abused have lyrics in this song.

43: I'm Not Jesus -This is sort of like Preacher is finally saying "No FUCK THAT. I'm not like you." This song is also about abuse so I wanted to include it. He's angry at this point and finally fighting back in his head.

44: You're Gonna Go Far, Kid -In my head this is Preacher sort of mocking himself and his skills at lying

45: Lone Digger -I wanted another song to help "lift up" the mood again since this playlist has a lot of ups and downs.

46: Money -I thought the lyrics were fitting for this part of the playlist

47: I Don't Care -Mood gets a little somber but in a more beautiful way than flat out heartache or suffering. A little more of Preacher rebelling finally against Bishop

48: Creep -But in the end all his rebellion eventually leads to him being depressed. Bishop is gone from his life at this point. But he's clearly still lingering in his head. No matter how much he tries to ignore it.

49: Souk Eye -The finale where Preacher admits he'll always have Bishop in his thoughts even if he also knows damn well to never deal with him ever again. Even if sometimes it hurts like hell.

I wanted this playlist to be able to go  on a loop and make sense. His moods are often on a cycle of "Fuck yeah I'm awesome! Fuck you Bishop!" to "Dammit we could have been so good for each other in another life wtf" It just repeats and repeats much like how people repeat their own cycles after trauma or abuse.

[muses-darling]

Fire & Fury - A Star Wars AU - Ch.5 Indebted

Kit was startled from his meditation as the torpedoes hit. He groggily shook his head clearing it of the sensation before his fingers darted to the buttons, it was no use, there was no getting out of whatever he had gotten into. His eyes looked to the ship that had fired, one of an ominous design. No further time to examine as another shot sent his interceptor spinning and falling to the planet below crashing through the atmosphere and landing with a skid Kit was jostled about. 

When he came too his mind raced to take in all of his surroundings. Sith stood at the ready but none made any movements towards him save a pair.

Struggling with the belts of the chair that had become jammed in the crash Kit felt himself in the force being kept from moving by one of them.

The other neared him stopping and taking hold of his face making him look at them. Then the sound of an igniting lightsaber and the restraining belts fell away from him. Darth Ceres sighed using the force to render Kit unconscious as she took him away Darth Lykaios carrying Kit as they swiftly boarded their craft.

________________________________________________________________

Ben lay there now shivering it was cold, how cold he didn’t know but he swore he felt it deep in his bones now as his teeth chattered and his muscles spasmed in an attempt to warm him. A sound of falling rocks jerked his attention to the source. “Harper?”

“BEN!” 

“HARPER!”

More rocks scattered and his sister’s face filled the hole illuminated by her lightsaber. “BEN!” She moved into the space crawling in. “Master Crowley in here!”

Crowley joined them using the force to help Ben sit up. “You’ve gotten terribly chilled.” He pulled off his jedi cloak wrapping Ben in it. “Come on let’s get you out of here.”

After much examination and a very long slow trek they made it back to the ship as the light of the morning came. Entering the ship they were greeted by a very sleep deprived Aziraphale who made hot cocoa for Ben. 

“What where you thinking wandering so far from the ship?”

“I was gathering the pieces that fell off in our landing when I looked up I was no where near the ship and i got lost.” Ben said over the rim of his cocoa mug.

“Just don’t ever do that again!” Harper said angrily before wrapping her arms around Ben. “I can’t lose you too.” She said into his ear as she held him. 

Ben held her close. “Of course not Harper.”

________________________________________________________________

They sat aboard what was clearly a luxury vessel that had been re-purposed into a research vessel. The four of them all sat in chairs not saying anything but neither was their host who stood looking between all of them an almost excited child-like expression on his face as he chewed his thumb thoughtfully. 

Alucard was the first to break the silence. “So-”

“You owe me. All of you owe me big, they were going to execute you like criminals the whole lot of you. Foolish, absolutely foolish, trying to pull what you four tried to pull. Such amazing skills and that is all you could come up with?” He shook his head. “Absolutely foolish.” 

“Skills like do you have need of these skills?” Layla asked. “I smell a paycheck.”

“By paycheck meaning you get to leave with your lives? Yes.” Grim smiled. “It cost a pretty penny. The one you robbed wanted to make an example of you all and I had to pay him not too.” 

“Why?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah I’m with her why?” Layla asked.

“Because I need your skills. and you lot need to pay me back with them.”

“So great we work for you now.” Alucard sighed. “What kind of work is it that you need us to do?”

“I need to get my wife back.”

“Listen buddy we don’t exactly do the whole repairing marriages thing that isn’t our skill set.” Layla frowned.

“Not that kind of ‘get her back’ I’m afraid.” Grim frowned. “She’s been captured you see. I should have been more careful of who I was working with. Next thing I know she’s been captured and sold to the Hutts. You lot are criminals yes? You can blend in, and you can get her out, safe and sound back to me and I will let you go free. Consider what you owe me non existent should you do this for me.”

“If not? I just want to know what you would do.”

"Trade the lot of you for her, apparently you stole from the Hutts and owe them. Thing is they don’t know that yet, unless I allow that information out.” He gestured to the man that Honey had robbed who was clearly yelling profanities from the glass. Grim chuckled. “So as you can see I’m treating you lot better than I treat him. He’s in league with the Hutts so I like him much, much less than the lot of you.”

“Well I say we do it.” Alucard smiled. “Clear our debts and maybe get out of it alive and do a good thing.”

“Yeah, I’m in.”

“Me too.”

“Honey you’ve been strangely quiet” Alucard looked at her. 

Honey looked at him. “I agreed before he even told us what he was going to have us do. He’s crazy, I like crazy. Besides you were saying we should try something new. So here is something new.”

“Great!” Grim rubbed his hands together. “August see our guests have everything they need. We reach Nal Hutta in a few hours.”

August smiled. “Great the sooner we rescue my sister the better.” 

________________________________________________________________

Hades found his way through the stars back to Korriban, there had to still be some Sith still loyal to him? He landed and smiled as he was greeted by one of the apprentices. “Much has happened.” He informed them. “Make ready our army impostors have come to infiltrate our ranks.” 

“The Republic Fleet has been spotted amassing they are likely to mount an attack on us soon. Your presence has been requested for a council meeting.” Darth Ashe informed him ignoring his rather unregal state.

Hades didn’t want to delay in finding Kit but he was unprepared, this battle needed him. The only way to free up the resources needed was to fight as he needed all he could to get his beloved safe, safe from those of Hades’ past that would seek to hurt those closest to himself. Hades entered his quarters taking a moment to appreciate the familiarity and comfort of his personal space. All was organized, neat, and in it’s place. Chaos was all well and good but there was nothing like organization. Organization kept things together, and with organization one could still form chaos. Organized Chaos. Hades thrived on organized chaos. After removing the stench of imprisonment he adorned his armor selecting his armament. Stopping he looked to the old mask he once wore a hand running over it a soft smile on his face before he picked it up holding it to the light then put it on. He had become soft in letting in Kit, he had lost his edge. The man that Kit had fallen in love with was Hades, but Kit didn’t need Hades, Kit needed Ignis. Ignis was just as much Hades as Hades was Ignis. The darkside flowed through him, wrapped him in itself. 

Ignis reached out and harnessed it, the rage reheating the dormant fires of his being. Hades was soft and the armor of Ignis would shield him and Kit both. He had lost his way it was time to return to who he was for the love he bore Kit, he just hoped that he wouldn’t be lost in it all. He just needed to wear the mask not fully become the man. He had worked so hard, Kit had helped him there was no need to go back completely. Kit had taught him so much about the part that lay between the two sides of the force the grey middle. He need only step into the darker side of things. Pulling up the hood he looked at himself how long since he had last wore these things? He hardly recognized the masked person that stood in his visage.

Entering the throne room he looked to a familiar face, “Are we all here?”

“Yes.” Darth Ashe nodded looking to the Sith Lords in attendance, it would be a few days time of planning and plotting but soon, soon the Republic would be brought to it’s knees.

“Good, it is time to bring an end to this.” Hades would have smiled but thanks to the mask he didn’t have to pretend joy beyond his voice. If they met on the battlefield he could easily cut the impostors down, end the war and then retire away to a peaceful backwater planet spending the rest of his days with the only one who mattered most to himself. If done correctly they could lead them there and possibly he could end this war. The Impostors would have to obey the order it hopefully would buy time for Kit to stay out of their clutches. For peace to be at long last obtained

________________________________________________________________

The test had come back positive that was all the reassurance that Darth Ceres needed as she looked over the blonde curls the man that lay before her was not too much different from the child so long ago. Those curls had bounced as the child ran up to her holding up a flower slightly crushed in the small hand an offering of love from one so young. Such sweetness would never have lasted so long though. Once he was of age he would have become a sith like his parents. “What further news?”

“They have made a council, to find a way strike the final blow on the Republic.” Lord Lykaios smiled nearing her looking over the boy, their boy.

“Lord Ignis?”

“He arrived on Korriban earlier this morning.”

“Excellent, once the battle has begun we will dispatch of him or better our son will. Either way soon the Empire will be ours, and Lord Ignis dead.”

Kit sat up as he came too. “Ignis!” He gasped. 

Ceres smiled as she reached out and brushed a strand from his face. “Cannot hurt you or keep you from me my dearest boy.”

Kit looked to her, “Who?”

“Forgive me,” A terrible tender smile came to her face. Feigned kindness. “My name is Demeter, and Kit I am your Mother.”