#i think force crystals as an explanation for everything is a bit boring so i had to think on this a little

[eorzeashan]

reading ur echani culture & especially combat headcanons is so cool and impressive and fascinating. semi-related: i will pay gamer girl bathwater money for a vial of your creative juices because i have spent the past 2 days with my head in my hands trying to figure out how a miraluka would Aim a Gun

Omg I'm so flattered... thank you bestie... that is some seriously high compliments to me 🥹🥹

I can decline on the bathwater but I imagine Miraluka would have tech interfaces to go with custom implants (attachments?) that possibly give them readings like wind and enemy positions while telling the Miraluka this information through ossal vibrations, like those bone-earphones I've seen lately. Perhaps all their blasters come with force crystals to attune to the Miraluka, but since those might be rare, maybe the tech is "attuned" to their force sensitivity instead... either way, smart blasters that don't rely on physical sight but the other senses sound really effective, imagine a gun that's designed to process noise!

All blasters in SW make a loud firing sound despite being lasers, so the design of Miraluka blasters could be built like aerial animal bones to receive and relay these noises and tell this information to the Miraluka. A partially hollow sonic blaster would look very cool...

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Court Me

Fili x Reader

Could you possibly do Fíli x dwarf!reader? Something fluffy and sweet would be lovely. Perhaps to do with braiding or hair, that would be sweet.

Fili is absolute perfection in your eyes.  

He’s handsome, funny, just the right amount of mischievous, alluring, sweet…honestly the list goes on and on.

Day by day you found yourself falling for him more and more, and you couldn’t help but crave his presence during some of the more boring parts of the journey. He would often join you at the middle of the travel line simply to talk, he’d set up his bedroll near yours so you could converse before going to bed, he’d even hang out with you during meal times and other menial tasks just to keep you company.

It warmed your heart more than anything and it only increased your attraction towards him tenfold. The only problem is that you’re not sure if he feels the same way or not. A part of you was sure that he does, but the other more pessimistic part of you gave you one-hundred and one reasons as to why there’s no way he does.

You tried not to let this line of thinking get you down, but unfortunately your brain simply insists on dwelling on this now as you’re attempting to relax while everyone is beginning to set up camp for the night after the super long ride. Since a huge chunk of last night was spent riding over time, Thorin decided to allow everyone to rest a little longer this night.

Both the stiffness in your back and the cramping in your thighs make your little walk around the pretty meadow much less enjoyable, but you know getting proper blood-flow to your legs is very important, so you do it regardless. After some time of wandering around the stiffness dissipates and you begin to feel much more relieved, and it’s around this time that you hear someone calling your name.

By reflex you turn your head towards the source of the noise only to be met with the sight of an exhausted looking, but still dashingly handsome, Fili.

The smile that spreads across your face cannot be helped, nor can you keep the joy from your voice when you respond with a chipper, “Hello, Fili!”

A small grin of his own upturns the corners of his lips, slightly shifting the braids of his mustache in an enduring way.

You approach him with a slight hop in your step, arms crossed behind your back as you move to stand in front of him.

“Were you looking for me?” You ask curiously.

He doesn’t respond right away, rather he’s a bit busy taking in the sight of you standing before him surrounded by flowers while also looking radiant in the setting suns light. “Ahem, yes I was. Uncle dismissed me for the night and I thought I would come and find you..” He trailed off at the end there almost as if he were holding something back.

You don’t comment on it though, knowing that if he want’s to talk about it then he will.

“Well I was only walking around. Do you care to join me? I would love to have some company.” You offer with another happy smile on your face.

It seems your optimism for the evening got to him, because before you know it he has a matching, large smile of his own despite the clear fatigue he must be feeling from riding nonstop and pulling a double shift the night before.

“Why don’t we take a seat by the lake over there before everyone decides it’s bathing time?” You suggest after a few minutes of silent wandering around the clearing.

The relief on his face shows almost instantly at your suggestion which draws a soft giggle from you. He looks at you oddly when you laugh, but you offer up no explanation.

You lead the way over to the edge of the lake and settle down on the grass, leaning back against a tree protruding from the ground near the edge of the body of water. The water itself is rather clear and seemingly safe. The clearness of the lake allows you to see small fish and little frogs swimming around near the waters edge which fills you with joy. There’s a soft thump to your right signaling that Fili has joined you on the shore of the lake.

The all around scene before you is one to behold. The rays of the sun reflect off the surface of the still-as-glass water, the sounds of birds chirping and the soft melodies of the crickets and other insects around are practically music to your ears, and it’s all tied together with the warm mass situated just next to you. After a few beats of comfortable silence you leaned over a bit and lay your head on his shoulder.

His nicely muscled arm curls around your waist in response to this, and a small smile upturns the corners of your lips.

You scoot a bit closer and pull your legs up to your chest while leaning into him.

“Y/N…” He mumbles your name with a hint of hesitance in his voice.

You turn your head towards him with a curious expression on your face, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear nervously. “What is it?”

The expression on his face can only be described as uncertain. “I…” He trails off as the furrow in his brow sets deeper, “I was wondering if you would be interested in allowing me to braid you hair…”

The connotations behind his request made your cheeks flare with warmth. After spending so much time with the other dwarves in Thorin’s company there’s no way you’d not know what braiding hair means to them in their culture.

You give him a shy smile and tug at the same strand of hair you had previously tucked behind your ear as you reply, “S-Sure, if you want to.”

A broad smile spreads across his face when you assent to his request causing your shyness to increase tenfold. He settles back with his back leaning against the same tree from earlier, spreading his legs apart so there’s space for you to sit. You crawl closer and plop right there between his legs with your back facing him, nerves on end with both anticipation and happiness. You can’t help but feel excited.

There are a few moments of complete still and quiet between you two before you feel him gathering all your hair together at the base of your neck. His fingers brush against the skin at the base of your neck with the delicacy and gentleness of a feather causing a chill to run down your spine. You hear him chuckle quietly from behind you, but you let it slide this time around.

A gentle tug alerts you to the fact that he is now winding your hair into a braid, and you force yourself to relax despite your giddiness.

Eventually your eyes slide shut as you simply allow the feeling of his hands working in your hair to wash over you. You can’t help the soft, please sigh from leaving you when his fingers tug at the hair he gathers from each side of your head. From the feeling of it, you assume that he is planning on braiding three sections of your hair so he can then braid those together as well.

From what you know he’s also going to incorporate something specific to himself into the intricate braiding in your hair, and though you know you won’t really be able to see it yourself, you still feel excited for others to se the outcome.

You don’t know how long the two of you sat there with each other with him working on your hair and yourself staring out over the crystal lake, but eventually you do start to feel the inevitable cramping of staying in one position for too long.

Right around the time the discomfort starts to become more noticeable, you feel your hair drop from his hand and settle against the back of your neck. All the hair is pulled from your face excluding a few unruly strands that frame your face like a halo, and the braids from the sides and top of your head all lead down to one big, lose plait resting against your back.

You lean forward and catch a peek of yourself in the reflection of the water below you. The sight of your carefully styled hair takes your breath away, and you find that you can’t tear your eyes away from your reflection.

After a few seconds of staring you turn your attention to Fili with a huge smile on your face, “Oh, Fili it’s lovely!” You exclaim excitedly.

He give you a sheepish smile in return as a hint of red brightens his face. “You really think so?”

Instead of verbally answering you throw your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. “I love it…” You say more quietly this time.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you hug the daylights out of him, smiling happily when you feel his arms encircle you in return. Everything about this moment just felt right, and you hoped it would never end.

The embrace lasts probably a bit longer than what’s normal but you find that you can’t bring yourself to care. You keep your hands rested on his shoulders when you pull back and he lets his hands fall to hold you gently by the waist.

“So… I am assuming you know what I meant by asking to braid your hair, then?” He asked, once again sheepishly, once you pull away.

You go for a physical response rather than a verbal one. Opting to leaning forward and pressing your lips against his, and he is all too happy to oblige.

[bill-beauxquais]

Blogging my Bravely Default II Playthrough - Chapter 1

I’ve been working all week end, so I haven’t been as fast as others, but also I want to savour the game as much as possible, and do as much side content as I can. Also, taking my time means I don’t need to grind as much later, hopefully.

As usual, be warned that there will be spoilers for the game up to the end of Chapter 1 under the read more (nothing further, please refrain from even hinting an anything after that).

((Ps: I really want that new Gloria plushie Square Enix is releasing, please and thank you.))

Overall opinion: The game keeps on delivering good content. There isn’t anything too frustrating, irritating or plain boring for now, and the game is an upgrade from the previous ones in nearly every regard. I’m starting to feel bad about doubting the devs so hard until release. They have already redeemed themselves in one chapter and a prologue, congratulations. It’s still not the meat of the game, but it has laid interesting bases.

Gameplay: I feel like the strategy element is coming earlier than in past game, in that I’m already starting to build a team and specialise my characters. As of now, Elvis is my primary healer, and Gloria is my tank, but I’m using Berserker to make her a powerhouse as well, hopefully. (as a bonus I really like how she looks in cutscene with these bulky, armored outfits. Looks very regal). Seth and Adelle are a bit less certain, but I like her as black mage, and him as a damage dealer and emergency support.

The asterisks may look like the old ones, but they do actually feel fresh and mix things up, forcing you to think differently. I also like the greater variety in quirks, and what to spend for skills.

I am also using poison on every boss, and it almost feel like an oversight with how cheated it is. But it does feel nice, also has the bonus of wiping off these smug grins as they attack me, then immediately get poison damage. Feel like karma, man.

The difficulty is less than the demos, if anyone was worried, but I was more levelled than I was back them. It’s still plenty challenging, without being frustrating. I won first try against almost every asterisk holder, and the ones I lost to took me 2 tries. Need to mention I’m playing on normal difficulty.

Nothing much to say on the overworld since I already played both demo, but I like being able to explore and find places before the story lead me to it. I also love that there are apparently optional dungeons that do not play into the main story, it’s a nice treat, and the definition of going up and above the minimum. I respect that. For a desert, the overworld was nicely structured as well.

BnD is... okay. I’m stating to get the hang of it, and got all the cards from Halcyonia and Savalon. I also beat Shirley relatively easily at it. I’m just focusing on corners and making an L shape, I’m not sure if that’s a good strategy but it’s working fin for now. It’s a nice little mini game you can sink a lot of time into, but it doesn’t seem obligatory if you don’t like it (well, only if you don’t want Shirley’s asterisk). I don’t think I’ll ever be a pro at it, but as long as I can see it through the game and the difficulty doesn’t ramp up too hard it should be fine.

The dungeons also feel more complex than everything we’ve had before, but not to the point they get boring. They’re still just labyrinths (for now), with chests here and there but they’ve taken off the “chest for later” gimmick. They definitely look more unique from each others than they did in the first Bravely Default (Second had improved on it).

I wasn’t expecting the sword to be improved on the overworld. It’s nice and satisfying to be able to cut down grass AND trees.

Writing: The story actually took me by surprise. For once, I didn’t see a bravely twist coming, and I’m not even mad. For me it worked as intended, I didn’t really see it coming but two seconds before it came through my brain just went “Wait but that was so OBVIOUS I’m an idiot I got played so hard.” I did notice a bunch of hint that I didn’t really look into because I guess I underestimated them (which is understandable, considering the previous games). Will definitely be paying more attention now. Good twist. Ruined my hope for a CastorxGloria, but ah well, I’m used to square ruining my ships by now (*cries in Altdea*).

The only thing I might say is that I felt the personality shift was way too hard, at least in the japanese voice. It looked a bit goofy with the cute baby face and the smoker voice.

However, I must commend them for making us play the start of Savalon as a demo. Because I feel it greatly helped the twist, as most of us where “ugh, I’ve already been there” and we didn’t really pay attention to the story or expected to be surprised in anyway. Good use of your demo, guys. I see they’ve also learnt their lesson not to show your twist vilains’ asterisk from the get go, or else you KNOW we’re going to expect to beat this guy’s ass. I like to think they also played on our expectations from Bravely Default, as asterisk holders usually came by 4 (except in Eisenberg, but all 5 of them were shown to us at the start), so Bernard felt like the obvious last boss/chief.

Anyway, the story was good and I’m glad Anihal is out of trouble now. Poor girl deserved it. I also like the main 4′s characters and interactions as well, and I’m glad I was right about Selene and Dag coming back and having some sort of redemption/moral greyness to them. I much prefer how the asterisk holders are handled this time around.

The sidequests are also still interesting and flesh out the universe quite well.

Writing - Theories: Not much more to mention.

For once, I kinda feel like accepting that a character who fell down off screen is actually dead, because it’s not like they mentioned not finding the body. I’m not sure if the sound he makes is a thud or a splash, I seemed to hear a splash but other heard a thud. In any case, Alternis can #relate.

Adelle definitely is hiding something, and I think she knows her sister is linked to asterisks and this is why she’s following Elvis. She knew what it was when he first mentioned them to her, and it seemed to get her interest. Also, it sounded as if she made the mercenary thing up on the go.

I still don’t trust the crystals and I don’t think their benediction is that easy. There appears to be something the crystals aren’t telling you. Hopefully the ‘Have the courage to disobey’ line will come back somehow. It’d be a nice nod, and a title explanation.

Graphics: Still good, still nothing to declare. I really like the asterisks outfit for now, it’s nice to see feminine bulky armor that isn’t skimpy. I’m fine with skimpy outfits (especially now that Square confirmed all the characters were adults) I just don’t want ALL OF THEM to be that way.

Related to the twist, I like how the NPCs are more detailed now, so there’s not as much of a quality/detailing leap between asterisk holders and NPCs. It makes it less obvious to see who’s going to be important or not. I really like seeing the freelancer outfits and I am irrationally ANGRY we weren’t shown Bernard’s.

Performance: (playing on a lite) It’s still not quite perfect, still struggles with party chats, still takes a while to load, and now I’ve been having lags in the shirley fight as well. At least it’s not crashing like BSel was mid boss, but it’s still jarring.

Music: Last boss theme was a banger. I also really liked the theme of Bernard’s mansion (and the abandonned mansion). Nice to see variety in the dungeons’ themes.

[kat-hawke]

Preparations - II

(Following [Preparations], and subsequent sub posts.)

One after another, spaced evenly apart, Kat swung the dagger in wide sweeping arcs. She alternated from Light to Shadow to light again as the energy pulsated from the blade and cleaved the target dummies in two. A handful of the trees behind her home were scared, collateral from the training over the last week of experimenting with various sources of power and combinations, searching for the ideal equilibrium.

Letting the dagger rest at her side Kat pushed the sweaty raven hairs back out of her face, panting as the three-hour-long session came to pause. She plucked the waterskin from the windowsill and inhaled the contents, wiping away the beads of water from her lips with the back of her just as she heard the muttered 'fuck' from within the dagger.

"Three too much?" Kat asked, though hardly concerned. "Are you actually touching the energies, or do they flow through you? I'm not entirely sure how things work for you in there."

"Everything in here is me. Nothing just flows through. It looks like a place, but it's all me. Three is manageable. The Light just hurts."

"Well, I have to alternate," Kat stated, inspecting the damage to the dummies from afar. "I remember the pain. You get used to it."

With a soft thump, the empty water skin dropped to the wooden bench where a few other supplies were sitting. Nimble fingertips found the Azerite crystal next, pulling the stone into the palm as she siphoned off the raw energy to recuperate her strength. The numbing sensation that washed over her mind made her nearly miss Alyssa's next statement.

"It's not the alternation. It's my nature. It repels the Light. I'll get used to it. Keep going."

"No, that's enough of that for now. We found a flow and decent control point." Kat said as she turned to face the clearing, her left-hand coalescing with Void as she reaches out to tear a small hole in the plane of existence.

Pain search from the tips of her fingers to the left shoulder, her body was fighting against the excessive use of the dark magic. Kat grit her teeth and clenched her jaw as the air split open with a tiny portal, a tear into the void. Setting her gaze on the darkness beyond, she uttered a select verse beneath her breath.

"Are you going to tell me why we're doing this training yet?" Alyssa asked again. She did every day but never got an answer.

"This is the endgame." Kat's cryptic monotone offered little to go on as she stared into the vast nothingness as the repulsive voidling lurched itself free from the portal. Her gaze was cast down to the dagger in her hand as the creature gurgled and crawled about. "What did it feel like when I stabbed the Faceless and K'thir?"

"Chaotic. I lost myself for a moment both times...it felt like a moment, could have been longer. N'zoth spoke to me, and I saw the city." Alyssa's answer came with a cautious form of curiosity.

"Mmm, well, N'zoth is dead now, so that shouldn't be a problem." With a shrug, the blade spun around in her hand, gripping the handle and plunging the dagger into the voidling. The engravings upon the blade shift from teal to purple in the blink of an eye, and the shambling creature shriek out in what one could assume to be pain as its body turned to dust.

Running a fingertip across the glowing floral engravings Kat could feel the raw energy of the voidling's life force resonating from the blade, as minor as it was.

"How do you feel?" She probed, subtly searching for signs of danger. Unsure what to expect when directly feeding the woman's soul with the essence of the Void.

After a short and suspenseful pause, Alyssa gurgled her response."Bwixki... amala zal qulllll."

Kat's eye widened, threatening to nearly fall out of her skull as her gut twisted, and her mind began to panic. "I think not," she stated forcefully, tightening her grip on the blades handle to siphon off the power.

"I'm just fucking with you," Alyssa revealed with a mirthful tone. "It's painful but manageable."

Kat's widened eyes immediately narrowed into a severe squint as she stared at the blade's engravings as if the woman within could physically see the amount of annoyance that radiated off her. With her lips pursed to hide the faint snarl of the upper lip, she looked up to the tear in the Void again, reaching out with another uttered phrase. The second creature that was called forth leaped from the portal, a void spawn this time. One she had no control over as it charged at Kat with its bodyless form.

"Well, since you're having so much fun." She spoke in spite as the dagger was driven into the spawns would-be heart, shouting away the pain with her overhead attack.

Just as before, the process repeated, and the void spawn cried out as it's form drained of color until it vanished from sight. The dagger itself was glowing brightly from the engravings and pummel. The deep purple hue flicked off the blade in whisps. As Kat inspected the weapon, she snapped out of her blind rage, knitting brows together in a brief moment of concern.

"Still good in there?"

"Yes," Alyssa answered in a strained voice, "Won't be able to hold this for very long..."

Wanting to avoid an explosion, Kat did not hesitate to siphon off the energy from the dagger. The sheer amount set her soul on fire, and the bracers constricted against her wrists, and they struggled to contain the power. For a moment, her head was foggy, but she regained footing and forced the energy back over the blade with a broad horizontal sweep—the resulting wave of destructing cleaving down several trees and shearing the boulder in the back.

"That's enough for today." Kat conceded, doubling over to plant her palms on the knees, gasping for breath and reeling from the rapid absorption and discharge. Her mind jumped from one thought to the next, concerned that if this resulted from a simple voidling and minor void spawn, then cutting a lesser void lord would be catastrophic.

"You said that ten minutes ago and then stuck me into a void creature." Alyssa sounded doubtful.

"Would you prefer I stick you in the wall? Again?" There was no sense of jest in Kat's tone this time as she fell back onto the bench.

"Well, that doesn't feel like anything. It's just boring," Alyssa said, pausing for a moment before reaching out again. "I had a question, though."

Kat's eyes rolled. "You often do."

"I keep your mind active," Alyssa replies sardonically. "It's about our link, less question more observation. Something about it is different than it was with Riley."

"How so?" Kat entertained the query for now as she leaned back against the cabin wall. Odell slunk forward from the treeline to check on her condition. The huff of disapproval from the beast had been expected.

"It became clear that I could only see Riley's soul when she had the dagger in hand. I can see yours with almost any kind of proximity."

Kat shook her head a bit as she reached out to run her fingers through the massive fox's fur. Even though Alyssa could not see it, she made an expression that showed she was not at all surprised. "And this surprises you?"

"Yes. You sound like you expected this?"

"Well, I don't think Riley is as magically inclined as you and I, if at all for that matter." Unsure of how accurate her statement was, Kat, glanced up at the broken trees, shelving the thought for another time.

"Did you not expect this? I thought you were supposed to be educated in soul related magics? Our emotional entanglement strengthens the link, as you call it. That's one theory. The other, and most probable, is that it is because I made you, in a sense." Kat pauses for only a second before rushing into an explanation to avoid lingering on that subject. 

"You can't just stick a soul into an inanimate object on a whim, not without preparations and conditioning the vessel first. I conducted a small ritual while binding your soul to the blade. There was, of course, a cost. There always is. Physically many see it as just blood, but it's more than that on a deeper level; it's the life force. Mogu texts referred to it as anima, which they used to power golems. The phrase 'I put blood, sweat, and tears' into this dagger is much more literal in this sense. In a way, there is part of me in you, in there. So I would expect the connection to be healthier." "In my hand, the sheath on my thigh, or even just a few inches away on the desk. I can feel and hear you. More than a few inches, and there is nothing."

Fingers scrunched up a few times in Odell's fur before Kat pushed to her feet, allowing a moment of silence for Alyssa to process all the information given as she collected the few things from the bench to head inside.

"I've gotten very good at blocking out the sounds of souls in soul stones, or I'd have gone mad. Maybe I tried to erase in my mind the fact that part of me was in each of them too. It's a sound theory, though. It would make a lot of sense."

"Short of blaming lack of magical inclination, that is." Kat pointed out as she promptly poured herself a glass of whiskey from the home bar.

"I didn't read magic in her soul."

"Well, case and point, then." The drink was knocked back with a single, fluid motion. "I'm sure she loved you poking around her soul."

"I told her what I saw. I didn't poke into it...much..." Alyssa stated dismissively.

Raven brows pushed together again as a second drink was poured. Kat wasn't surprised, but still a bit annoyed and sought a further explanation. "Much?"

"Once I knew more about who she was, I stopped. I had no idea where I was or who she was when she picked up the dagger. I started probing because I needed to start figuring out how to take...her...o..." Alyssa trails off, clamming up. "Doesn't matter, I stopped looking."

"What?" Raw frustration overtook Kat's tone as she slammed the bottle of whiskey back onto the shelf.

"It doesn't matter now." Alyssa eluded.

Without realizing it, Kat's knuckles had gone white from the fist she was clenching in anger. "How to, what, exactly?" Though she knew where Alyssa was going with the thought, she continued to push for an admittance.

"I was considering any possible option to save you, regardless of who got hands on the dagger." Alyssa continued to evade. "That's all. I didn't have to do anything dangerous since Riley found me."

With flared nostrils, Kat let out an agitated huff as she spat, "Right."

"I was just considering that I might be able to hijack a soul." Composedly, Alyssa yielded. "Better not to have to find out, though, right?"

With a clenched jaw, Kat's teeth felt as if they would shatter. The sheer thought and suggestion of her best friend being subject to such a thing made Kat's blood boil. "Mhmm," she hummed out in reply, knocking back another full glass before walking away, abandoning the dagger on the bartop for the rest of the afternoon.

[ @alyssa-ward​ ] [ Mentioned: @blue-eyedraven​ ]

( [Chapter I] [Chapter II] [Chapter III] [Chapter IV] ) ( [pt.I] [pt.II] [pt.III] [pt.IV] [pt.V] [pt.VI] [pt.VII] )

[slightlyobsessedwithstories]

Dreams and Nightmares

(I hope it's not too late) Day 3 of jamweek! Connected sleep with dream and wrote this. It's a bit more on the hurt/comfort side with Steven's and a bit of Connie's insecurities.

 It’s been a long day, Connie thought to herself as she laid on her bed. Her bag was on the floor near her, a stack of assignments that were due on different days next week were on her desk, and the presentation she gave as this quarter’s project just drained all her energy for the day.

 She turned her head to the side and saw the time, 9:00 p.m. It was getting late, sure, it was the weekend, she could technically sleep in if she wanted to, her parents were a bit more understanding now, but at the same time she could wake up early and use this time to do everything she needed to do.

 With a yawn, she got off the bed, turned off the lights and slept.

 She was in the middle of giving her presentation, her classmates eyes bore through her while her teacher tapped impatiently on her watch, time was running out.

 She was only halfway through, try as she might to speed things through, it got worse. Whispers can be heard throughout the room that seems to get smaller as time drags on, the clocks ticking grew louder and louder as whispers turned to giggles that filled the room.

 Why was this happening? She was already through this, but even as she thought that her heart was still racing. She wanted an excuse to get out of this room, she would rather face the diamonds than continue this. It’s as if what happened earlier got a thousand times worse.

 Something was pounding, she didn’t know if it was her heart or the door. She looked to her left and right, there weren’t any doors in this place anymore, just windows mocking her with the outside world.

 Thump

 What

 Thump

 Was

 Thump

 Going

 Thump

 On?!

 The glass broke.

 Room filled with light.

 Something warm grabbed her hand.

 It was a familiar warmth, one that was always welcome.

   They ran together, hand in hand.

 When they couldn’t see the room, they stopped running, catching their breaths.

 “Steven… thanks a lot… for saving me back there,” Connie said between each breath.

 “Of course I did, Connie,” he held both of her hands, “I saw you hurt. Why wouldn’t I save you?”

 “Steven—she was struggling to hold in her laughter—that was so cheesy. Now, I’m sure that this is a dream.”

 “Hey, at least it made you smile,” he grinned at her, that “Universe Charm” being pretty effective right now.

 Everything is different from where they’re standing, well they’re not standing on anything, it’s just a blank, endless space as far as the eye can see.

 “Let’s have some fun while we’re both here!” Steven closed his eyes and started to shape the world around them.

 Pink clouds appeared under their feet as the blank skies filled with blue and when a bunch of animals wearing clothing started to walk on two legs and float around the area, she was reminded that this was literally a dream.

 “Hey, where did the animals come from?” Steven asked while petting a yellow pegasus that landed near them.

 “I had dreams based on fantasies I had as a kid,” she joined Steven in petting the pony, “this sweet little girl was from a world full of magic.”

 Mentioning magic made multiple sparkles appear around them, in all colors of the rainbow. Every part of them was covered in glittering light.

 And they proceeded to do what you do when you know you’re dreaming, you make and do some of the most imaginative things possible.

 From racing with rainbow colored pegasi, soaring through the skies at the speed of sound to being super secret agents, long-time partners who are saving the world from diabolical villains planning to take over the world.

 This should be the most fun they had in a long time, but in each adventure though, Connie noticed something.

 It wasn’t notable at first, a low hum that you wouldn’t even hear, maybe it’s because of the roaring winds, but it was there.

 When they were mermaids underwater, waves were frequent, currents kept coming towards them in a predictable pattern. She didn’t give it that much thought.

 Being secret agents while the ground was constantly shaking and there were traps everywhere was hard, but bearable. Even stranger was that Steven was completely unaffected by the quakes.

 At this point she wanted to ask him if he felt them too, they’re currently knights on a mission to slay a dragon, so the shaking must be felt by him now, right?

 After trekking through the forest for some time, they came to a stop in a clearing. Despite being in a dream, they were both tired from the nonstop action.

 They sat near a bunch of purple hyacinths; they bloomed just as Steven sat near them.

 The ground shook once more and Connie wanted to know, “Steven, did you felt that?”

 “Felt what?”

 The next tremor almost made her fall, “That! Look even the leaves were falling by the shaking!”

 He stood up.

 There was something behind Steven, glowing eyes piercing her very being through the fog that started to surround them and Steven wasn’t even noticing it. He looked at her with a smile that’s almost too strained, eyes not looking directly at her. It’s even present in his voice, almost cracking as he tells her, “I’m fine, Connie. There’s nothing to worry about.”

 The ground shook, it’s closer than before and she can spot horns crowning its head, reflecting her in its sharp crystals. She can clearly tell that Steven was hiding something from her, but why? And what could it be?

 “Everything’s fine, you can continue with your journey.”

 Wait, why did he said—

 The beast was about to strike, its long scaly neck moved towards Steven, and its maw wide open filled with rows of sharp teeth descended upon him.

 “NO!” Connie drew her sword and fought back against it. Her sword straining to hold back its jaw from snapping shut.

 “Why did you stop it?” he couldn’t even look at her, “It was supposed to—”

 “Don’t. Please, don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”

 “But I deserved it!”

 The sword was starting to break. She needed to convince Steven to get out of its way.

 “I don’t know what’s happening to you in the real world, but you know you can always tell me, right?”

 “I don’t want to be a burden!” he looked at her and she can see the shame in his eyes as he continued, “You have school, dad’s dealing with the band, and the gems are running Little Homeworld!”

 “Why should I add on to your problems?” he whispered.

 She took a risk and took her hand off her sword to hold both of his, “If I asked you for help, would I be a burden to you?”

 “No…of course not,” there was a bit of hope in his eyes as he said it.

 And the sword broke.

 She woke up. Her heart was still hammering in her chest, she just got through him! Why did she wake up?

 Her parents were right by her bed. Why were they here? She turns her head to look at the time, 7:00 a.m. 

 They noticed that she was up and breathed a sigh of relief.

 “Connie—” both her parents said at the same time. Her dad decided to let her mom talk first.

 “Are you alright? You were shouting in your sleep.”

 She sat upright and hugged back both her parents, “I-I’m fine. It’s just a nightmare.”

 “Well, if you want to tell us what your dream was about, it's okay. Your mother still has a few more minutes to spare before she leaves for work.”

 After an explanation, more hugs, and some breakfast, she took the quickest route towards Steven’s home and before she would storm into Steven’s room and help him. She politely knocked on the door.

 To her surprise, Steven was the one who opened the door. He had a smile that was a bit forced when he asked her, “Hey, Connie, it’s pretty early. What brings you here?”

 Wordlessly, she hugged him, tighter than before. She hasn’t seen him for months and from what she remembered from the dream, he needed it.

 He hugged her back, “Why- Why did you save me?” “You were hurt. Why wouldn’t I save you?”

[the-second-circle-ffxiv]

Common ground

It started like any other, very early morning in Ishgard - with the exception there was a little bit of thin mist hovering above the ground. Also, the complete silence was broken by constant clatter coming from a certain viera's high heels, while she marched along the silent streets. "I don't believe this", Silke muttered to herself while heading towards the Blacksoul manor. "I can't focking believe this." She had clenched her hands into fists and gritted her teeth. The damn package Lareine had left into her apartment and which Silke had found had contained none other than the godsforsaken dress Silke had been dreaming of since she had seen a mannequin wearing it in a display window on the day before they started to sell it. It was the latest fashion: a turquoise green - and her absolute favorite hue too - long dress with puff sleeves, lace decorations, crystal pendant and everything, including also a soft, dark blue cloak. Silke had known at the first glimpse this delicacy had been something she would never be able to afford, and in low spirits had been leering at other people scurrying around and wearing it while looking fabulous. And now she miraculously had one. It also fit her like a glove. It was without a doubt the fanciest and best fitting attire she had ever owned. This was also the first day Silke had gone out while wearing it, and she was sorry for all those poor bastards who weren't there witnessing this majestic apparition flying by. Silke's first reaction after opening the package had been pure dismay. Then the tears had come. She had managed to hold them back almost for a month, but apparently this had been too much. Lareine certainly knew her the best, perhaps even better than Asagi - at least in some things. Namely, Silke hadn't told Lareine about wanting the dress. They hadn't even been talking back then. After crying for a while Silke had started to giggle in disbelief while thinking about the price she had seen in the display window. Lareine had probably burned all of her money into this attempt of hers to make amends. Silke wasn't the sort of person one could steer by bribes but still she couldn't have denied this had impressed her no matter how hard she had tried. Well, it wouldn't hurt if she gave Lareine at least an opportunity to explain herself while not being intoxicated, Silke thought while walking. And the explanation had better be a good one.

Before she actually noticed it she was already standing in front of the estate. To her surprise Silke noticed she was nervous. She wasn't sure was it more because she and Lareine hadn't met in weeks, or because this was the first time she came here alone. Before this it had always been with Lareine, or her and Arsene. Suddenly Silke felt like an intruder. The estate - not to mention its master - was very grim and repulsive, although usually Silke was drawn to and liked dark but elegant things. Silke walked through the garden to the front door, grabbed the doorknocker and smashed it three times. For a moment it was completely silent. Then she heard heavy, leisurely steps approaching inside. That wasn't Arsene, she thought. He was usually almost or completely silent. The thick, wooden door opened with a lazy creak and a moment later Silke was looking at Varg, who was dressed in white blouse, black vest and formal trousers. The only thing that broke the carefully polished whole was his hair he probably hadn't done anything else to except hastily trying to sweep it back before opening the door. He seemed bored, and stared at Silke with narrowed eyes, like he would've just found a cockroach from the floor and was wondering what to do with it. The fock was his problem as well? Silke had never been rude to him or anything. In fact, they hadn't had any negative interactions with each other and still Blacksoul seemed to loathe her. The sudden spike of annoyance drove her trepidation away, and Silke opened her mouth to blurt out something snarky just for the sake of it. However, before she had uttered even a sound, Varg stepped aside, leaving the door open, turned around and said to someone Silke couldn't see: "It is for you." Iris dropped a half-finished toast back onto plate with a soft 'thud' as she heard Varg's voice from the hallway. The fock someone wanted of her? Had she forgot a shift at work? No. The Second Circle was closed today. For some reason, Asagi had started to keep the place closed for three nights a week. It didn't bother Iris, though. Considering the fact she didn't have to pay the rent, she still made a decent amount of gil. With a drawn out sigh, she forced herself up from a comfy, upholstered chair, wrapping a black dressing gown tighter around her matching, laced lingerie, and made her way to the hallway. "...Ya have ani fockin' idea what time it is? If dis is some...", Iris never got to finish her sentence as her gaze locked on the creature standing in the open doorway. Iris felt like someone had just dropped a huge, cold stone into her stomach. And soon the stone shattered, giving birth to a swarm of blue butterflies that filled her, sending a shiver up her spine and making her head swirl. For a short moment she could do nothing but stare at Silke, her mouth slightly ajar, and taking support of the door frame, as she felt like she could pass out. "...Am... Am I a heckin' dreamin' 'ere...?” she tried to gather herself. "S... Silke? You... Fockin' 'ell, you... look smokin' hot..." Iris couldn't move her eyes from the girl. She had thought the dress would fit her former friend, but never had an idea just how good it would look on her. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up again. "Uhhh... I was... just 'aving tea. Ya... care to sit down with mi? J... Just tea ya know?" she waved her hand towards the kitchen. "...Just... sit down for a moment, okai? I need to explain a lot of shite... A lot..." Meanwhile Silke was still standing in the doorway, keeping her hands behind her back and squeezing them together so hard her knuckles were probably bone white. Her uneasy gaze was bouncing between Lareine, the marble floor, Varg, the door frame, the dark, wooden roof, then Lareine again and so on. It sure was a strange as heck feeling when one wanted to both embrace someone and never let go, and punch their teeth into their throat at the same time. Without showing any kind of emotion Varg casually loitered back into the kitchen. Silke could hear a couple of faint chinks, and soon he walked out of there, holding a fresh cup of black coffee with a thin trail of steam rising from it, and disappeared into the corridor leading upstairs, leaving the two vieras alone. Not wanting to let a somewhat awkward silence to continue for too long, Silke released her hands, feeling her blood starting to circulate in them again, and closed the heavy, wooden door behind her. She followed Lareine into the kitchen and sat opposite of her spot on a chair that had already been pulled from under the table. It was warm. Silke's first instinctive reaction was to lower her gaze onto the table, and she noticed there was some bread crumbs or something there. "Did I interrupt your breakfast?" she asked in a polite tone. Iris made her way to the stove, pouring herself some leftovers coffee, and started to prepare a cup of tea for Silke. “Ya aint interruptin’ shite, Silke...”, she muttered, her back turned to the other. “...I heckin’ missed ya.” The whole situation felt so fragile. Like a soap bubble, ready to break at any moment, and to be carried away with the wind. Silke's words had kept ringing in Iris' head - stronger than ever during the last three weeks. Do not ever touch me again. A scent of herbal tea with ginger filled the air, as Iris made her way to the table, carrying two cups. She placed the tea in front of Silke, before walking around the table and taking a seat from the opposite side. For just a fleeting moment, the whole room was silent like a wintry grave, except for the clinking of Silke’s spoon against the edge of her cup. “...I dunno where to even start... I'm sorry. The whole shite was a royal fock-up from mi...”, Iris started. While talking, she kept her gaze down in her coffee. This was hard enough on its own. Just seeing Silke's face there, in front of her. No. Iris felt she would break if she looked the girl in the eye. “...Was about to get ya dat book I... ya know. But I have no fockin’ idea what the name was. My memory of dat evening... It's like someone just splattered black paint all over it. I dunno if I even paid much attention to the name... Aniway. Ya just... gimme the name of the book, and I'll get ya a new one from mi next paycheck... Okai?” During a couple of weeks, Iris had gone through her head a thousand times what she would say if she ever met her friend again. And now that the girl was right there, she felt like someone had taken her brain out and replaced it with pillow stuffings. "...I cut mi medication back then, ya know... I'm back on it now, but... Yeah. Since dat, everythin' just went down a fockin' shitslide..." And without even thinking Iris told everything she could remember to Silke. She laid everything on the table before her. About the night at Sakuya’s place, and Tora, trying to take her through the night without the medical dose. And how that had ultimately led to Iris almost sleeping with the feral forcibly. She told about Sakuya, finding the two from her bed, sheets soaked with blood. And how that had led into a fight, and Sakuya almost stabbing Iris before Tora stopped her. She told Silke about the night when she got back to Ishgard, how she got thrown out by Varg, and all the way to the moment when she found her way to Silke’s doorsteps. Silke quietly sipped her tea while Lareine talked. Part of her had been expecting the similar kind of shite like during that morning a few weeks ago with some miserable excuse toppings, and she had even thought beforehand some equally sharp answers to them. But to her surprise the situation had taken almost a completely different direction from the start. She couldn't help but to listen with wide eyes while Lareine told her about the mess with Sakuya and Tora. Silke had met them only for a couple of times briefly and didn't know those two well, but based on what she knew, they were chill folks. A bit weird ones, but in a good way. Just the kind both Lareine and Silke had high possibilities to get along with. People like that were rare treasures, since Silke was more than painfully aware she and Lareine - and especially Lareine - didn't get easily along just with anyone. And now Lareine had blown it, too. “...I dunno whut the heck got into mi... The thin’s I said", Iris went on. "Fock, I dunno how I could throw such shite on ya... It just ‘appened! And the kiss... Fock’s sake, dat will never ‘appen again... I promise! I just...” Finally Iris raised her gaze to Silke, biting her lip, eyes gleaming with tears she tried to hold back. Silke tried her best to keep her own feelings in check, but she was extremely relieved there had been something else behind Lareine's behavior than just being drunk. Silke had always thought the ancient proverb of drunks 'I didn't mean it, I was drunk', wasn't valid. Since alcohol messed up functions of the frontal lobe, drunkenness actually made people more honest. That's why Silke took the words of drunkards to her heart. “...I just felt miserable... Been fockin’ bottlin’ up mi feelin’s for ya for heckin’ years... And the whole thin’ just blew up onto mi face... On yer face!” Iris sighed frustratedly and wiped a single stray tear onto her dressing gown's sleeve. Meanwhile Silke quickly put her cup back on the table and yanked her hands into her lap so that they wouldn't be shaking on the table for all to see. “...I fockin’ love ya, Silke... And I know I focked it all up big time... But... Can ya, like ever... in dat cute head of yer, even think about forgivin’ mi? I know its fockin’ lot to ask, but... Could we at least... like... heckin' try to build somethin' back? I cant live without ya, Silke...” After Iris finished her story, there was a long silence. Finally Silke cleared her throat and forced herself to speak. She thought she owed some explanations to Lareine as well, about something else, from the time they had even met. "Back when I was a kid, I used to wonder why monks and priests dedicated their life to their faith and retreated into some desolate monasteries in the mountains", she started silently. Immediately she had to clear her throat again. It felt like there would've been some lump. "During my teenage years in Kugane I found out I was gifted in channeling aether. It was a mindblowing experience for me." Silke made an instinctive silly face accompanied by a gesture with her hands portraying like her head would've exploded and brain splattered all over the place. Then she remembered the situation she was in and lowered her hands into her lap again. "Before that day, I had managed whatever tasks I had done only averagely. I had never been truly skillful at anything. I don't know have you ever experienced anything like it, Lareine... discovering your true calling." There was still some tea left at the bottom of her cup. It'd be shame if such a good tea went to waste just because she had forgotten how to swallow, Silke thought. "My family members have always been very supportive, and I'm so, so grateful to them...", Silke continued after a short while. "But pretty much everyone else - both my so called friends and romantic interests - have been against it. 'Are you reading again, Silke? You're so boring, have fun sometimes! You have lessons again, Silke? We haven't focked this week even once, just cancel them! You wanna follow your dream, Silke? But what about meee?'" she imitated in a mocking tone dripping with bitterness. She had to take a very deep, long breath before she went on: "I was so angry at them... part of me still is. But after it had happened multiple times I also realized perhaps it wasn't fair of me to expect anyone to spend their time with a bookworm who hardly has any time or interest in the things most of other people prefer. So... I decided I would never again give anyone a reason to blame me for being cold or heartless for following my path, feeling my lifeblood in my veins..." During talking Silke had been mostly just staring at the table, her cup or her hands. She grabbed the cup again and gulped the leftover tea down, hoping it would've been something more potent. She had read from somewhere mind was actually so powerful it could become drunk without alcohol if one believed in it strongly enough. It didn't work now, though. At least not fast enough. She should've probably started telling her brain she was drinking booze since they had started talking with Lareine. "You saying you love me, Lareine... I'm humbled by your words. And... so flattered it almost makes me speechless. But I could probably never give you what you want from me... As much as I care about you... so much I could maybe call it even love of some kind... and I would absolutely want to keep you in my life no matter how this conversation will end... but it still doesn't make me want to stray off my course." At that moment Silke could've otherwise been like an archetype of a fancy looking portrait made of some revered noble. She was sitting straight, hands squeezed together on the table in front of her, wearing her expensive dress, and her long, straight, ash black hair tied in a loose bun. Her voice was stable and formal like she would've currently been in a job interview. But this paintinglike whole was broken by a slow flow of tears. Iris kept the gaze of her purple eyes nailed to Silke, as the girl told her story. She knew about Silke's old lovers. What they had been after. How Silke had been unable to live up to their expectations, and in the end, always got left with her books and spells. Was Silke right though? Had she been right all along? Maybe she had noticed all Iris' attempts to get close to her, and had kept offering cold shoulder to protect Iris from a let down. Damn girl thought she knew better what Iris needed. Bullshite. She took a sip of coffee, sniffing her nose at it. For some reason, the coffee had suddenly started to taste so bitter on her tongue. "Stop with da Lareine-crap, Silke... It's Iris. Its startin' to...", but before she got any further, she noticed Silke's tears. The tears on those pale cheeks were like a raging river for the flames of her frustration, putting them out in a heartbeat. Without thinking, Iris got up, walking around the table and searching for a tissue from the pocket of her dressing gown. She cursed in her mind as she came to a conclusion both her pockets were empty. Silke couldn't help but to frown slightly at the remark about the name. She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, not giving a damn did it make her look like a panda bear with all her smeared make-up or not. The Iris thing was still partly a mystery to her. Silke had heard some people calling Lareine Iris sometimes, but she had thought it was a nickname they had given her. However, at times it seemed like a hot potato and Silke had never found a proper moment to ask about it. And mostly she had just forgotten the whole thing until it popped up again later. With a couple of quick steps, Iris suddenly made her way to the stove, picking up a towel from the hangar, and walking back to her friend.

Do not ever touch me again. Iris dropped the towel on the table, in front of Silke, before taking a step away from the girl, and leaning onto the table. Didn't Lareine like her own name? Silke thought to herself. She knew Varg had given it to her. Or was the name itself fine but Lareine just didn't like it because she didn't like the one who had given it to her? Or did it have something to do with her odd shifts? Silke's thoughts were interrupted by a towel that was dropped in front of her. She grabbed it and wiped her face, more thoroughly this time. "...Heck... I'm sorry, Silke... I do love ya... I fockin' love ya more than anythin' I have ever loved. And its scarin' the livin' shite outta mi. Yer all I 'ave been able to think durin’ these past weeks. And...", she sighed deeply, tapping the surface of the table with her long nails. "...However dis ends, I too want to keep ya in mi life. Abso-fockin'-lutely! And 'onestly? Why the heck ya keep thinkin' I'm tryin' to get ya stray off ya course? Haven't I fockin' supported ya durin' these years we have known? Not heckin' once I have told ya to drop yer classes and be with mi. Have I?" Sitting this close to Silke made her blood burn, like a dragon's breath. Like someone had drawn out her blood and replaced it with molten iron. Tears on Silke's cheeks made it just worse. Oh, how much Iris wanted to wrap her arms around this beautiful creature, and never let go. Protect her from all the heart-ache and poison-dripping words the girl got from people. But could she protect Silke from herself? The idea terrified her to the core, where the emptiness was lurking, ready to be set free. Ready to consume everything good and beautiful Iris had laid her hands on. And like speaking of a demon, called by her thoughts, the emptiness rose its head. A fleeting thought. To lift Silke on this very table, and rise her up to the heavens. Fill the emptiness just for a moment. Iris swept the thought on side, like it was an annoying insect, trying to get into her drink. The 'ell is wrong with me?

"I... think I might 'ave burned our heckin' loveboat on dat evenin' at yer place, huh? I kinda thought so. And 'onestly? I did not expect ya to just forgive me... Heck, I'm glad over mi head ya even came. At least let me tell ya I'm sorry. If we... can build somethin' out of this... Even an echo of whut we had. It would be...", Iris felt salty tears burning her eyes, and she had to work hard to hold them back. She couldn't cry now. Not now. Silke needed her. "...But tell mi this... okai? Ya have like... Whut? Six? Seven bells a day in dat class of yer? Mages 'ave relationships. Whut the heck is keeping ya from havin' one? Fock's sake, people have careers, Silke! And still dey have love-life. Heck, some might even have couple of kids! How come all yer time goes into studyin'? And... I'm not 'ere keepin' ya from followin' yer dreams! Nor strayin' ya away from yer path.. But really? Ya gotta 'ave somethin' else in life... A fockin' relationship is no full time job... Don't ya ever feel like ya just want someone to wake up next to ya in tha mornin'? Be dere when ya get home... Fockin' worship dat form of yer! Don't get mi wrong, but always when ya talk about damn relationships, it's like yer talking about some fockin' chore! Dats somethin' I will never get in ya... But ya may be right though! Maybe we were never made for each other in more wais than friends..." As the words left Iris' lips, she felt like they ripped a part of her soul with them, and scattered it into the wind. She felt the emptiness' low growl deep in the depths of her heart. "No, you haven't told me to relinquish anything, ever", Silke admitted, sniffed and put the towel back on the table. "Not even once... And for that I was very grateful. That's why I felt so happy around you. ...Until the last time we met." There was a short pause. "According to what you said to me back then I understood you've been just keeping up a facade, pretending to accept me, but in reality you had been hecking frustrated all the time. And that it took a couple of years and a few bottles of booze for you to gather courage to say it straight to my face." Silke also knew more than well other mages had relationships and whatnot. And it felt like everyone would've been constantly pointing out she should as well. Heck, she wasn't even certain did she want to. So far she had been trying out things mostly because she had been told to, not of her own volition. It wasn't only romance, but other aspects of life as well. Silke had been purely horrified when people of her age or younger had been saying they 'felt like settling down' and then got pregnant or married. Or worse: both! She felt like a caged cardinal craving to take off and disappear into the limitless blue, but was constantly told to stay in her cage. Because it was good for her. Because it was appropriate. Because others thought she should. It all made her so frustrated, baffled and furious before all, wanting to flap her wings and peck the bars even harder, not giving a damn about her pretty plumage wearing off of all the struggling and revealing blood, tendons and flesh beneath. What a useless, weak body and mind of a bird, she shuddered at the mental image. A demon or dragon would've fit her better. Like the great Hraesvelgr and Nidhogg. Oh, what magnificent creatures. Silke shook her head, forcing her thoughts back into the moment. "Haa, you are kinda right... about the chore thing", Silke explained after the silence had gone on for long enough without her noticing. "At least partly. And for gods' sake don't get me wrong! I do enjoy the company of other people. But for some reason I... don't seem to crave for it as much as most. It often feels like... there wouldn't be enough hours in a day for me. Like... I feel like I've just gotten started with some interesting transmutation or experiment or an old scroll and gotten all pumped up, like yesss this is the stuff, and then I notice it's already four in the focking morning and I should've gone to sleep hours ago, and should be at a lecture at eight. And then some time ago one of my professors noticed me either sitting in the library or using the chemistry class long after everyone else had left and offered me a part time job in their service, saying I could 'put all of that enthusiasm into a good use and earn some gil while at it.' And of course I accepted! She could've as well shown me a jam-filled doughnut with thick frosting and lots of sprinkles and asked me do I want it or not. And I was like 'No good ma'am I definitely don't want your delicious looking doughnut that smells like ambrosia from the heavens! Just hand it over!'" When Silke noticed she had started to get worked up again, she took another deep breath and cast a glance to a partly withered sunflower on the other side of the kitchen window. It was a stained glass window, very pretty, and looked very expensive. Silke tried to make sense of the patterns and what they presented. "Then at some point, after sedating my curiosity, I get an urge to go somewhere and meet people... and then I of course just go, and usually it's really fun. But when the urge to leave emerges, I rather go while I'm still in high spirits, and not trying to stay there just for the sake of staying, and being only half present. It seems like... others see it as rude I don't meet them so often, or that I don't stay for as long as they'd want, but I think it'd be even more rude towards my companions if I didn't give them my full attention and live my time with them to the fullest." Silke slowly turned her gaze from the window back to Lareine. "I'm terribly sorry, I started to babble again", she hissed while grimacing. "What I'm trying to say is... I've seen... many times... the way you want to live your life, La... Iris. You remind me of a shooting star or comet, roaming its way through the sphere and shining brightly, attracting attention and admiration. Meanwhile I'm some distant star twinkling leisurely in the horizon, just above the trees, and one would need a telescope to see it properly. As much as I don't like it, our preferences seem to be like fire and ice, godsdamnit! It's a bad omen!" "What the fock, Silke?" Iris couldn't help herself. "Yer not a distant, meaningless, piece of shite-star somewhere in the heckin' horizon! Yer the damn brightest star dere is for mi! All the time, after I came to Ishgard... Damn, I guess maybe even before dat... I 'ave felt like I'm walkin' in a dark, swampy forest with no wai out! Not until I met ya, Silke!" without even noticing it, Iris had taken a step closer to her friend, now standing only a step away. "...Yer mi guiding fockin’ light in this shitefest we call life! Ya shine down on mi, and help mi keep goin’! But if ya leave mi now... Whut do ya think it will do for mi? I’ll be damn lost in the darkness again! Don't ya dare to call yerself some useless fart-star in mi company ever again... Okai?” What was this girl even thinking? Silke had always had low self-esteem in all other areas, except her magic. In which her pride was clear. Maybe that was why Iris somewhere deep inside... some part of her disliked Silke’s magic. Magic took everything from her. Iris hated all the people who pecked at Silke for how she was... what she did. If she knew she could get away with it, without causing Silke any trouble, Iris would've gotten rid of every damn arsepluck who dared to say bad things about this goddess among women... And almost as much as Iris hated the people making Silke’s life hell, she hated the girl doing it to herself. “And I told ya already!” Iris turned around, bending over, leaning her elbows onto the table and bringing her head on the same level with Silke’s. “...I dropped mi medicine back den! It... I dunno whut I was sayin’! But whutever it was, it was not true... Ya really think, I would ‘ave just... heckin’ bottled it all up for two years? Tell mi... Would ya waste yer time on someone ya think is just frustratin’ company? Hold up a damn facade for such person? Dats fockin’ waste of time!" Quite many people seem to be doing it, actually, Silke was tempted to say in her most annoying, know-it-all tone, but she bit her tongue. "Yeah, yer right about bein' frustrated, though...", Iris continued. "I might have thought about it time to ‘ime... Especially when ya fell asleep on mi...  How do ya think it made mi feel? How it made mi look?” She let out a shivering sigh, shaking her head. “And whut the heck is dis mumbo-jumbo about bad omens? ‘ow are we a bad omen? We... We are made for eachother, Silke! I love ya, sweetie! ‘ow can dat be a bad omen in ani way? A... And ya just... Ya just said ya love me, ‘aight? So... I... I dont see whut’s the matter! I just want ya to be damn part of mi life, Silke...” As Iris talked, she could almost feel Silke’s breath on her face. Feel the faint scent of a flowery perfume. The emptiness inside her fought, tearing it’s shackles, and Iris had to close her eyes for just a moment, to keep it in check. “... And I got a job and everythin' ya know! I'm really doin' mi fockin' best! ...I just hope we could get even something back... Of whut we had before all dis..." Her fight against the tears seemed to be falling for a loss, as they started to run freely, messing her dark makeup, and painting dark lines onto her pale cheeks. "...I heckin' love ya, Silke..." Silke lowered her reddish eyes from Lareine to her own hands again and started wringing them compulsively. What the heck was Lareine babbling about? They usually understood each other perfectly, but sometimes this happened. They had a language barrier or something between them. Silke had just announced she wanted to keep Lareine in her life and Lareine was already talking about Silke 'leaving' her. Or was this about that inexplicable concept of being 'just friends' again? Silke had never understood it. She didn't have any ranks for the people precious to her. They were all equally important, just in different ways. To her, there was no being 'just' something. "Once again I'm flattered you've thought of me so highly, and that I've been able to be of help to you. But do you have any idea what kind of contract you'd want to scrawl your name on, princess?" Silke almost whispered. "Let's imagine for a moment we'd live together, okay? I would leave very early for school or work, and return very late in most days. We would see each other only slightly more often than nowadays", she started to list. "You sleep with every second person you find attractive. I couldn't care less about such things. I've done it for a few times only to please my partners. It's like housework - a necessary evil - and even more boring than housework to be honest...", she couldn't help but to roll her eyes. Silke's gaze wandered around the table and fixated on her empty cup. There was some skillfully painted, pink and white roses on it, and the cup's handle and rim were gilded. She couldn't help but wonder about the possible ratio of materials to get such a perfectly balanced hue. "As you know already, I'm striving to become an archmage, and alongside that, an alchemist", Silke continued after a short while. No more tears were coming out and she noticed her voice was saturated with perseverance and finality like always while talking about the subject. "If they call me in the middle of night... or party or dinner or whatever and there's some emergency or major breakthrough, I'll most probably be going. If they need someone to test a new portal or check stability levels of a tear in the rift, I'll be the first one volunteering. If there's demons, voidsents or extremely powerful, magical beasts causing trouble... well, you know how it goes: I will be there." Silke turned her head slightly towards Lareine, but didn't look at her directly, just from the corner of her eye. "Is that truly what you want in your life... Iris?" Suddenly Iris started to regret she ever corrected the name. When they were talking about love earlier, Silke repeating Lareine’s name over and over again had made Iris feel so miserable. Almost like her beloved was confessing her love to another woman, right there under her very eyes. But now? As things had started to take turn to the south again, it would've been so much easier to take all hits while hiding behind the mask of unsuspecting Lareine. Iris felt like she was swimming in a bottomless lake. And every sentence Silke weaved, every word leaving those pretty, thin lips of hers, felt like a creature of the deeps, grabbing Iris’ leg and pulling her down under. She tried to fight back, gasp for air, but it was no use, and soon she would just give up. Sink into the deep dark embrace of nothing. “No...”, the words left Iris’ lips, without her even noticing it. She straightened her back, and staggered to the stove. Her head was spinning. A numb hand took a grip of the teapot and filled it with fresh water, placing it on the stove. Flames in the fireplace were slowly withering away and dying, so she picked up a couple of logs, throwing them into the fireplace to keep the flames alive. Deep down Iris hoped she could do the same for her own, withering heart. The silence in the room was like that of funerals, and that's how Iris felt. A funeral. She was about to bury something very dear to her. Put it into rest. After a while that felt like an eternity in purgatory, the boiling of water broke the silence. Iris moved the pot off the stove, reached for a bottle of rum, and a tiny jar of honey, mixing them into two fresh cups, and filling to the brim with boiling hot water. She walked up to Silke, placing the cup in front of her before returning to her own chair with hers. “Ya will always be pickin’ yer damn archmage dreams over mi, huh?”, she noted while taking a sip. The steaming, hot drink burned her mouth, but it was better than the feeling of emptiness inside her. “...Don't ya get mi wrong, sweetie. I'm heckin’ proud of ya. Yer gonna be the most kick-ass fockin’ archmage dey have ever seen from ‘ere to far East. And damn I wanna be dere to see tha faces of yer fellow students, when dey see it. After all dey ‘ave said about ya... And ‘ey, maybe I dont ‘ave to use Mori’s portals animore den. I don't trust the portals of dat lass in the slightest...” Taking another sip, Iris placed the cup onto the dark, wooden table, returning her gaze to her friend. “Ya just... try to heckin’ understand how dis feels to mi. I ‘ave been fockin’ eartips deep in love with ya for damn two years. And now? It’s just kinda all shatterin’ in pieces in front of mi. Like dat damn painted glass window I broke on dat night. I... I feel like bein’ a damn child again. ‘ave I told ya about mi mom, Silke? She... was a useless dreamer-type, fillin’ mi head with stories about lands like those from fairytales dat waited for us outside of tha forest. And silly me even believed those words. ...Then we came to Limsa Lominsa. And instead of my fantasy fairyland, I got a stinkin’ city, full of cut-throats and rapists... Mi damn world just fell apart.” Iris’ lips curled into a smile of a kind. “...Ya know whut I promised to miself back den? While burnin’ mi mom’s corpse? To never let anyone fill mi head with shite of fairytales ever again. And for the fockin’ past two years... I ‘ave done it miself. The apple sure doesn't drop far from the damn tree...” Iris emptied her cup with one single gulp, feeling the rum burning its way down her throat. “I'm heckin’ sorry, Silke. I don't wanna lose ya. Maybe our damn lovestory was not written in the stars after all... But I still love ya, gal. And if I can't compete with ya silly dreams... Damn... I’ll be dere to cheer for ya, when ya make dose dreams reality!” A warm smile on Iris’ lips, hid behind the emptiness pulsated and growled, and finally broke its shackles. Silke tried her best to think about something extremely annoying and cling to it with all her might to prevent her flow of tears she could feel pounding behind her eyes like roaring waves against a dam that was about to break. She would've so much wished Lareine to agree, but deep down she knew it wouldn't have been fair. If Silke had tried adapting to live the wild life Lareine was after, it would've been like a fish trying to climb a tree. And if Lareine for her part had shut herself into libraries or ancient tombs and ruins, or Silke's silent apartment with Laurence, she would've eventually felt as caged as Silke currently did with generally everything. "If you want to put it that way", Silke agreed silently. If she wasn't able to have both, magick would be her choice, now and forever. "I am trying to understand. I think I even do to some extent. And I truly do wish I could give you what you seek because I want for your happiness. But I don't think I have it in me. I wouldn't want it to go to the point we desperately tried to mix our fire and ice just because it seems nice on the outside and eventually ended up hating each other for it." At least they were no longer at sixes and sevens. That alone eased the giant vortex beneath her calm surface at least some. Like Lareine, Silke also emptied her cup with one go, not caring although it made her feel like she was swallowing lava. Feeling like she didn't have anything to say anymore Silke glanced absent-mindedly outside. It had gotten really foggy. Then she turned to look at the clock sitting on a cupboard nearby. "I think I should go", Silke stated formally, and calmly stood up. "Not for work or school this time, though. It's my laundry room turn soon and I have only an hour to wash almost my entire wardrobe. Hahah!" She let out an awkward laugh and bowed politely immediately after. "Thank you for the tea, Iris. It was absolutely delicious. See you around!" I must get out, she thought to herself. I must get out right now.

Silke was able to get past Lareine before she saw Silke's face starting to twist, but before Silke got out of the kitchen, she almost collided with Varg, who had returned from upstairs, his hands full of an empty cup and briefcase, and this time with tidied hair. Silke wasn't fast enough to hide her facial expression, which made the old au ra give her a long, curious look. "Excuse me", Silke almost whispered, not lowering her wavering gaze from his chilly, black eyes, but in her mind she added a sarcastic 'wink wink nudge nudge.' His only answer was a slight frown and a calm step aside so that she could pass. This felt so wrong, Iris thought while watching Silke getting up and leaving. So wrong. Deep down Iris knew this would be for the best for both of them. Like Silke had said, trying to mix fire and ice would never end well. Still, she could not look at her friend’s back as she was walking out of the room. Silke was acting... weirdly? "Silke!" Iris shouted after the girl. But as the other didn’t pay any mind to her voice, she quickly rushed around the table and towards her friend. Usually Iris had an excellent balance. She had been honing it for years on the streets of Limsa Lominsa. Yet now, her foot got stuck around a leg of the chair that was pulled out, and the slippery marble flooring did the rest. With her hands flailing, she tried to regain her balance, but it was no use at this point. With a loud crash from a falling chair, and a series of colorful curses, Iris fell on the floor, just barely missing Varg, who had just walked in, looking annoyed. Without wasting any time, she jumped back on her feet and took a couple of quick steps, reaching her friend just before she reached towards the door. Do not ever touch me again... Do not ever touch me again... Do not ever touch me again... SHUT THE FOCK UP!! Iris wrapped her arms gently around Silke from behind. The hold was light like butterfly’s wings, and Silke could've easily walked out of it if she had wanted to. Iris buried her face into Silke’s long, velvety hair, inhaling her scent. The familiar scent of flowers, ink and parchment felt so good. Like someone pulling Iris out of a freezing water and wrapping her into a blanket. It felt like home. With one arm around Silke’s chest, and another around her neck, crossing in front her, Iris could feel Silke holding tears. So this was why she was acting so weird? Iris was about to say something about it, but decided not to. She would let Silke have her tears. The girl had cried enough. After just a fleeting moment of standing there, Iris rose her chin, whispering softly into Silke’s long ear. “...Let mi walk ya ‘ome, okai? Just... Just gimme a moment to dress up. I can help ya with dose laundry of yer, okai? We’ll get it done in no time, the two of us? Yes?” While talking Iris brushed the back of her index finger up on Silke’s jawline. “I cant just let ya walk awai from mi like dat, Silke. Let mi give ya a ‘and. I ‘ave a day-off and all dat shite. Got nothin’ to do aniway...” Lareine's careful hug made Silke accidentally vibrate, but instead of dashing out through the half opened door, she had frozen on the spot, held by her own hand squeezing the metallic doorknob. It felt icy to touch, but Silke used it as an anchor to hold herself together. It had been embarrassing enough to weep - multiple times even - in front of Lareine, who was the only one apart from Silke's family members who had ever seen her cry. But even more humiliating it would've been in front of strangers or people Silke didn't care about. Although Blacksoul seemed to care equally little about the two vieras and their personal mess, just his presence in the next room was enough for Silke to remain as stoic as she possibly could. First she had interrupted their breakfast and now she was blocking the doorway with her carcass so that he couldn't leave for work. She painstakingly lifted her free hand and grabbed Lareine's arm she was holding around Silke's neck, squeezing it almost equally hard as her other hand had clung on the doorknob. If the place had been more appropriate, Silke could've just stood there forever. Though she wasn't quite sure what exactly was it that prevented her from running: surprise, bliss or horror. Another awkward laughter - a bit more authentic this time - escaped her lips. "If that's how you truly want to spend your day off, who am I to forbid you, princess?" Silke asked in a somewhat swollen voice. "I just hate housework. If I was some rich bastard who had enough gil to wipe their arse with it, I'd gladly pay for someone to take care of that stuff for me." “... Either dat, or ya could juust... leech yer wai into a manor wid butler, ya know?” Iris closed her eyes just for a moment. Silke’s tight grip holding her arm was like that of a valkyrie, rising a fatally injured warrior from the mud and blood, carrying her on the other side. Iris felt peace. For the emptiness inside though, the touch was like an iron maiden. Shutting its doors around it, draining its strength away. Iris could still hear the growling through that metallic face, frozen in a calm expression, but as long as Silke was holding onto her, she felt like the doors would stay closed tight. Silke half accidentally let out another laughter - aghast this time. "You kidding me, right?" she splurged, lowering her voice into a whisper. "The miasma in here is just -" She bit her tongue again before she could finish the sentence. Asagi and Blacksoul weren't on best terms with each other, and Silke had decided that despite her hanging out with Lareine and Arsene, she'd make sure she at least wouldn't be the one throwing fireballs into a powder keg. She had actually been trying somewhat to extinguish the flames, because she was tired of both Asagi and Varg's disapproval of her just because she was Asagi's sister and Lareine's friend. After a moment Iris pulled her arm away gently, taking a step back. “...Just a moment, sweetie... I will be back before ya know it!” And with those words, she rushed upstairs, her long dressing gown flowing like a cape after her. Meanwhile Lareine was getting dressed upstairs, Silke was wringing her hands behind her back again, trying to recover from her and Lareine's recent conversation and to come up with some superficial and boring subjects for small talk just in case. It transpired she didn't need them. Not a long after, Iris hurried back downstairs, now fully dressed in a leather jacket, a top with skull pattern, tight leather pants and a pair of ankle boots. “Blacksoul! I'm goin’ out! May stay over night, I dunno... No drinkin’! Promise!" she yelped at the old au ra while passing the kitchen door on her way back to Silke. “Righto! I'm ready!” Iris hurried to her friend's side, quickly hooking her arm with the other’s. “Have ya eaten, by tha way? Because I can almost bet mi next paycheck ya have not... So dat in mind, lets take a 'urn through Jeweled Crozier and get sum food stuff, okai? I’ll make a dinner for ya after we are done wid tha laundry shite! Hm?” Iris felt Silke’s tension while their arms were locked together. Her friend had been through so much. All the things Silke had said kept running through her head, but for now? Silke was all that mattered. Whatever happened, Iris would make sure this beautiful girl, who was like a ghost from the eastern legends, would never have to cry because of her. Ever again. "I've eaten only some instant ramen last night", Silke answered when they had already walked out of the estate. Immediately after she furrowed in disbelief. "...You? Dinner? You mean... You can actually cook something and not just boil water?" The thick fog soon swallowed the two vieras. If some citizen had been within hearing distance, they wouldn't have seen a thing, but had only heard some extremely loud chatter and banter somewhere from the whiteness.

With @lareine-kira​ :3c

[teaveetamer]

Alright just for fun Ima rank my personal preferences when it comes to Pokemon gens.

1) Ruby, Sapphire, and Emerald

Admittedly this might be a bit of nostalgia talking since these were the first games I really played as a kid, but idc I love them. Archie and Maxie are kind of ridiculous but Hoenn is such a wonderful region that’s interesting and intuitive to explore, the music is pretty kickass, and it’s full to the brim with Pokemon that I absolutely adore.

Main criticism: 7/10 Too Much Water (Also I was not the biggest fan of ORAS as remakes).

2) Black, White, Black 2, and White 2

I’ll admit I wasn’t too keen on these ones when they first came out, but now that they’ve had quite some time to sit I gotta say I love them. IMO this is the last Pokemon game that really took risks, what with having the largest cast of new ‘mons since Gen 1 (and Black and White actually forced you to use them). Admittedly some of the new ‘mons were a bit hit or miss, but with such a large cast there’s at least a lot of cool ones to choose from. I also really wish they’d revisit the sequel idea at some point, getting to explore Unova again from a different angle was truly something special.

Oh, and I’d say Team Plasma is probably, like, the least ridiculous of all the evil teams (barring maybe Rocket, since at least they’re just a gang without world ending aspirations). It honestly had some pretty interesting characters and character focus that I wish more Pokemon games would do.

Also I really liked PokeStar Studios. Sue me.

Main Criticism: A little too linear at points. I know they were trying to phase out HMs, but it did create a sort of annoying situation.

3) Diamond, Pearl, and Platinum

Also perhaps a bit of nostalgia but Sinnoh is an excellent region. Another roster of kickass new pokemon, including some new evolutions to give some of the older ‘mons a bit of an upgrade. Another thing I really wish they’d revisit at some point. There’s also lots of neat little nooks and crannies to explore, and the series’s best rendition of pokemon contests. The little areas with the AI partners and forced double battles were also really cool, IMO.

Main criticism: Not enough new Fire Type ‘mons.

4) Gold, Silver, Crystal (+Heart Gold and Soul Silver)

Crystal was technically my first Pokemon game, though I was too young to really play it properly. I know HGSS are technically remakes but I don’t think I’d like the originals so much if they didn’t get such fantastic remakes. Everything about HGSS is absolutely amazing. Pokeathalon was a fun diversion from the main game, two regions in one game was amazing, and the cute little ‘mons following you around were amazing. Buuut if we go just by the original games then they’re definitely lower on the list, just by virtue of being older games without a lot of the little modernizing touches and QoL fixes we got down the line.

Main Criticism: I find the game generally enjoyable, it just didn’t really grab me like some of the higher games on this list did.

5) FireRed and LeafGreen (with a special shoutout to Let’s Go! Eevee)

I actually didn’t play the original RBY until I was an adult, but I think by now we all know those games were being held together with scotch tape and hope. Kanto, as the OG region, has a special place in a lot of people’s hearts but I just… can’t really get that into it anymore. I mean I enjoy it, but given GameFreak’s incessant need to throw the OG 151 into everything I’m just kind of bored of the region and the ‘mons that came with it.

I will say that the Let’s Go games really spiced things up with the visible map pokemon, following/ride pokemon, different catching system, boxlink letting you switch up your party on the fly, and the adorable as fuck little partner you get to have riding around on your shoulder the whole time. Not to mention the fun little post-game challenges for the completionists out there.

Main criticism: Overuse. Also Let’s Go only included the original 151, even though many gen 1 ‘mons got evolutions or pre-evolutions in future titles. Would have liked to have seen those carried over. Was also not a fan of the lack of breeding or GTS to make certain Pokemon easier to obtain.

6) Sword and Shield

Might just be recency bias, but I did really have a lot of fun with this game. A lot of the locations were really beautiful and I really hope they bring back a big, explorable wild area type thing in the future. It’s one of those things that Pokemon always should have had, but you don’t realize how good it is until you’ve got it. The new ‘mons were probably my favorite new cast introduced in the most recent three gens. Also the clothes perfectly captured my bum aesthetic and I appreciate.

Unfortunately this game loses a lot of points with me because of just how unfinished it is. The towns were woefully small and the story was pretty non-existent. It just screams of a game execs wanted to push out to reach a deadline.

Main Criticism: Obviously unfinished. Probably my least favorite collection of starters ever.

7) X and Y

Honestly the last two slots are pretty interchangeable for me, but I will say I had a lot more fun with X and Y than I did with Sun and Moon. Even if it’s not my favorite I have replayed it at least once, which is not an honor I can give to Sun and Moon.

That said… I just hated a lot of the things X and Y did. I hated megas (and how they were forcibly shoved into ORAS), I was not a huge fan of Fairy type, the rollerskates were fucking stupid, the story was dumb, and just like Sword and Shield there were a lot of “this is clearly unfinished” moments. Granted there were less than Sword and Shield, but they were definitely still there. This was also the first gen to start the “less than 100 new pokemon per gen” tradition.

I’ll also say that this is the first gen where “exclusions” started to become really noticeable. Newer gens always removed features from older gens, but it was usually small stuff or side stuff like contests or the pokeathalon. This time around they put in a whole ass core gameplay  feature (megas) only to completely remove them two gens later with very little explanation.

That said, Kalos was a really beautiful region on the whole. PokeParis is probably the best “massive city” that Pokemon has ever done.

A Random Compliment: They finally added sitting to a Pokemon game god bless.

8) Sun, Moon, Ultra Sun, and Ultra Moon

Ridiculous amounts of handholding, small cast of new pokemon, very few Pokemon I was actually tempted to use, and a region I was very meh on. Island trials really didn’t interest me. IMO they didn’t do enough to mix up the formula, it was very much still a Pokemon Game going through the Pokemon Game motions, just with a slightly different coat of paint.

I also find the existence of Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon insulting. X and Y were unfinished, but they didn’t then try to sell you the improved version one year after the release of the original at full price.

I know the existence of third versions is a bit controversial, but they didn’t bother me that much with Gens 1-4. Yellow was completely it’s own thing, and Crystal, Emerald, and Platinum were just improving on already extremely solid games. Sun and Moon made me feel like a beta tester. I was honestly so disgusted I’ve still never finished playing Ultra Sun to this day.

Biggest Fucking Criticism: They took away my ability to sit?! One gen after they introduced the magic of sitting?!

[tetrakys]

106; 69 and 62 for Lance maybe?

62. “If you don’t like my teasing then why are you moaning?” & 69. “You’re not taking me to bed. Ever.” & 106. “Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did we’re having sex. Right now.”

Falling 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

part 3 :

“I missed you so much, Erika,” he told me while hugging me tightly to his chest.

I hadn’t seen my boyfriend in weeks. I’d missed him too, of course I had, but… I couldn’t deny my thoughts had been otherwise occupied lately.

It was late at night, I’d heard he was about to return any moment and I’d run to meet him halfway, we were now strolling hand in hand in the beautiful park and we’d just reached the Hundred years cherry tree.

He told me everything about his unfruitful mission in Balenvia where he hadn’t managed to find one single trace of Valkyon. And I told him everything… well, not exactly everything, but a lot about what had been going on at HQ, about the lifeless Crystal that was making Eldarya even more unstable than what it had been before, and how Miiko and Huang Hua where trying to find a solution.

“There’ve been reports of earthquakes, not strong ones but they’ve been happening with more and more frequency,” I explained.

“I know,” he replied massaging his temples, “there’ve been a couple in Balenvia too.”

“You must be tired,” I said seeing his pained expression, “with all this travelling lately… you should probably go to bed.”

“Are you coming with me?” He asked with a certain innuendo in his voice. A month ago I would’ve said yes immediately, but something was off now, and I didn’t want to admit to myself the reason.

“I don’t think so, you need to rest and that’s clearly not what you have in mind.”

“Mmm…” he replied with a smile, tilting his head. “There’re many ways to recharge your batteries, I bet you need some "rest” too…"

I chuckled lightly, I was tempted… maybe falling back into our routine and spending the night together was exactly what I needed to take my mind off other unnecessary and problematic thoughts.

“Did you just look me up and down and then bit your lip?” He asked with a smirk.

“Maybe…”

“Cause if you did we’re having sex right now.”

“Now? Here?” I uttered surprised.

He mumbled his assent and took a step towards me, taking me in his arms again.

I felt… comfortable, safe, nothing to do with the constant fear, angst and… excitement I’d found myself experiencing lately. When he took my face in his hands and lowered his lips on mine in a tender kiss I sighed. This was familiar and sweet.

I didn’t want sweet.

Pushing him on a bench close by, I straddled him, my hands in his hair I attacked his mouth with passion.

This… I wanted this… but it wasn’t enough, it felt wrong. I found myself frustrated by the feeling of his hair being of the wrong length, his height and build were also wrong but, most of all, when I looked into his eyes I was disappointed at finding they weren’t icy blue. They were looking at me with a tenderness that had nothing to do with the cruel but heated stare I envisioned in my mind every time I went to sleep.

Fuck, I was so messed up.

I was about to put a stop to this when I saw him.

In his black armor Lance… no, Ashkore, he was wearing his mask, was standing there not exactly hiding in the bushes, and even through his mask I could tell he was looking at me, immobile like an impressive, frightening statue.

I remembered the last time I’d seen him, in the prison, where he’d touched me and marked me as if I were his property, and then he’d disappeared out of thin air and I hadn’t heard from him in days.

So, when my boyfriend started unbuttoning my tunic, I let him. One button after the other, slowly, until none were left, exposing my chest to two sets of hungry stares. I never broke my gaze from those red, cruel dragon eyes, not even for one second.

And when my boyfriend started kissing from my lips, along the length of my neck, all the way to my breasts, I never stopped staring at that masked monster standing just a few feet from me.

And when those sweet lips that were worshipping my body latched to one nipple and started lightly sucking and licking, I finally closed my eyes and arched my back, granting him better access, probably showing more enthusiasm than what I was actually feeling. 

But when I felt that mouth leaving my body and not coming back after a few seconds, I opened my eyes to find Lance’s face in front of me, no mask covering his angry icy eyes, looking at me like a man possessed.

My boyfriend was limp on the bench passed out following a hit to the head if the branch on the ground was of any indication.

Before I could open my mouth to protest, he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me off the bench, the sting in my scalp barely noticeable compared to my worry for my boyfriend’s conditions.

“He’s fine,” Lance said when I tried to reach for him, “unfortunately.”

I heard him groan and I knew he would be ok once he woke up.

“You, on the other hand,” Lance continued, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me towards HQ, “are in big trouble. I think it’s finally time to take your suggestion and get rid of Eldarya’s mighty saviour.”

“Wh-what?” I replied shocked, but he didn’t seem to care giving me any explanation. 

“Is this it, then? Are you going to kill me?” I insisted.

“It is the simplest solution as you pointed out yourself,” he replied, trying to sound calm, bored even, but I knew better. He was furious.

“How come the sudden change of heart?” I asked trying to keep my cool, “you were almost friendly the other day. What happened meanwhile? Weren’t you enjoying the show just a moment ago? Or maybe… are you actually jealous?”

He stopped abruptly and grabbed me by the hair again, forcing me to look up at him.

“Do you seriously have a death wish?” He cried out like a crazy man, we were close to the village, but I hoped not close enough for anyone to come and check out the commotion. I could deal with an angry dragon, at least I hoped so… but I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

“Do you seriously have so little consideration about your own life? I just told you I’m going to kill you, why would you try to get a rise out of me?”

“I’m about to die, right? I have nothing to lose, I might as well piss you off,” I spat out challenging.

“You… do you think I’m going to spare you by acting cute? My mind is made up.”

He thought that me being a brat was… cute?

“Or maybe… you wanna try to persuade me with more feminine tactics?” He said looking at my open tunic that barely covered my breasts. “I should take advantage of the situation while I still can and fuck you out of my system.”

“You’re never taking me to bed.” I replied disgusted. “Never.”

“Oh sweet little aengel…” he said with his crooked evil grin, “who said anything about a bed.”

Pushing me up to a tree, he grabbed me by the neck and whispered, the sweetness of his tone at odd contrast with his words, “If you didn’t like my teasing then, why were you moaning?” You seemed ready to go with that loser, and were more than ready with me just a few days ago… are you really an aegel? Or more like a slutty demon, ready to spread you legs for any willing cock coming your way?“

"Wow… seeing me making love with my boyfriend really made a number on you. Who is the loser here?”

He punched the tree with strength, leaves falling on our heads.

“News flash Lance, who I sleep with has nothing to do with you. Women usually prefer someone who doesn’t kidnap and threaten to kill them every time they feel like it.”

He tightened his hold around my neck and grabbed a dagger from his back pocket, pointing it at my chest. I just stared at him, challenge in my eyes. When he raised it, he planted exactly where I thought he would, in the tree trunk, next to my face. It was the second time he did something like this, he had already come very close to kill me in Memoria, just to stop at the very last moment.

“You can’t, can you?”

He just looked at me, desperate.

“Erika!”

I heard voices and footsteps, they’d found us. Miiko and all the members of the Light Guard surrounded us and I could only imagine what they must think of the scene in front of them, Lance pinning me to a tree, one hand around my neck, the other holding a dagger.

He’d barely had time to take a step back dragging me with him, that something else happened, Lance’s men arrived, the ones from the boat, who must have been close by and heard the commotion.

The two sides were facing each other, Lance and I in the middle.

This was going to end badly.

I didn’t want them to fight, didn’t want anyone to get hurt. This war was absurd, each side was both right and wrong, I needed to do something.

I was overwhelmed by an insane visceral need to protect them all, I had no idea what was happening but I felt it in my subconscious, my skin started to glow, a warm light surrounded me and, from behind my back, a pair of soft, white wings sprung, and I felt myself raise in the air.

Everyone was looking at me shocked, and I heard several voices cry out the word aengel.

The cat was out of the bag.

[ergomaria]

The Past is Gone (but something might be found) - Preview

(Almost nobody reads this blog, so I can post spoiler-y stuff without too much fear. I’m currently working on something that absolutely delights me, even if nobody else will appreciate it.)

The planet had a strong connection to the living Force, so there was a good chance that whatever Alek was sensing belonged to one of the locals. His shuttle’s scanners had revealed several settlements across the vast jungle, indicating that there was at least one sentient species. Perhaps they would have more information about what could have happened to the Hawk’s crew. Drawing a breath, he desperately hoped that his reputation as a tyrant and murderer hadn’t spread here. If it had, he supposed that he could use fear to pry out any information.

Slipping into the dense foliage, Alek kept one hand hovering near his hip where his lightsaber was concealed beneath his cloak. He could feel the comforting thrum of the crystal, a more than generous gift from Vann during a time when the other man owed him absolutely nothing. It served as a strange reminder of who they once were, even if those memories could sometimes be painful. But things could be worse. At least he had memories. Shaking his head, he refocused his attention on the surrounding jungle, sensing that the Force signatures were much closer than before. Apparently, the individuals were on the move and headed towards him. Tensing, he mentally prepared himself for whatever confrontation might occur.

The last thing Alek expected was for a blur of black-and-gray to hit his chest with astounding speed, the sheer inertia enough to knock him down despite his size. His eyes blurred for a moment as the back of his head struck the soil and when his vision returned he thought for sure he was hallucinating.

Sitting on Alek’s chest with his cyan lightsaber drawn was Vann… or at least Vann as he’d been in his late teenage years. Deran, some horribly traitorous part of his mind whispered. The boy couldn’t be older than seventeen or eighteen, his face losing the very last of its childish softness and his limbs graceful yet seemingly too long for his body. By this age, he’d finally grown into his looks and he was undeniably handsome, though in an oddly innocent way. For whatever reason, he was still wearing his spacer clothing even though it was slightly too loose on his leaner frame. The main ‘saber of his adult self was grasped confidently in his right hand, the second hilt still clipped to his belt as he hadn’t mastered Jar-Kai until his twenties.

“See, I told you there was someone here!” Glaring out towards the trees, the teen never lowered his weapon. His voice, and how Alek had missed it, still had the crisper accent of his youth without the Outer Rim drawl that he’d acquired during his time as a mercenary.

It was the sheer shock that kept Alek still and quiet, his brain completely failing to process what his eyes were seeing. Things didn’t get any better as two more figures appeared out of the vegetation, both teenagers of roughly the same age. One was a boy, broad-shouldered but a still a bit too slim for his ridiculous jacket to fit properly. That had to be Onai. Stars, the resemblance to Dustil was actually disturbing. The other figure was much smaller, almost delicate in appearance since she had yet to pack on muscle from frontline fighting and trekking across hostile worlds. Her blue eyes were wide as she half-hid behind the taller teen and his matched set of pistols.

Reaching out his awareness, Alek nearly choked at what he sensed. The two Force signatures that he’d distantly recognized had been Vann and Meetra, or at least how they’d appeared through the Force at this age. The former was still astonishingly bright, though he lacked the chilled cloud of darkness that he’d acquired throughout the Mandalorian Wars. The latter… It almost brought tears to Alek’s eyes to sense the shimmering radiance of Meetra before Malachor, her presence bright and blooming. His golden Consular was back in all of her glory rather than limping along as a walking wound in the Force.

“Who are you and why are you here?” Vann, or at least his teenage self, was bringing his lightsaber ever closer to Alek’s prosthetic, his expression fierce though his dark eyes were uncertain.

Once again, the former Sith’s brain stuttered to a halt. How could anyone not know him? He was probably the most recognizable man in the galaxy thanks to his scalp tattoos and prosthetic jaw. It was impossible! Unless…

It was probably a bad sign how easily Alek’s mind adapted to the impossible. Something had clearly been damaged by the Star Forge because he was already considering the idea that this trio had been turned, mind and body, back to the people they were as teenagers. If that were the case, it was understandable if they didn’t recognize him. He’d been so changed by age and his own experiences that he bore no resemblance to the black-haired Jedi he’d once been. He was a stranger to them all. A large, scarred, fairly dark stranger.

This could end very poorly.

Alek fleetingly considered giving the teens his real name even though it would only raise more questions, most of which he couldn’t answer and some that he just didn’t want to. The longer he thought about it the more he realized that this situation had far too many variables for him to even begin explaining his complicated history with the adults that these teenagers became. For now, he just needed the trio to trust him, at least until he could get them back to their allies. Unfortunately, he’d never had Vann’s talent for improvisation or Meetra’s gift with honeyed words. That had to be why he blurted out, “My name is Naver!”

Apparently, the Star Forge had also caused his intelligence to plummet. ‘Naver’ was just ‘Revan’ backward.

“Are you a Jedi?” Meetra was slowly creeping out from Onasi’s shadow, her eyes falling to the lightsaber hilt that had been uncovered by Vann’s flying tackle. Next, she took in his nondescript brown cloak, her awareness drifting out like a warm breeze.

Given the clues, it was a reasonable enough question. It was also the best cover identity Alek could think of. “I am. I was passing by this planet and I sensed distress… some type of disruption in the Force. I came down to check that everything was alright. Is it?”

Narrowing his eyes, Vann also examined the former Sith through the Force. “What did you say your name was? I don’t recognize you, and I live on Coruscant.”

“Do you know every Jedi in the Order?” Arching a brow, Alek was pleased to see how quickly the question unbalanced the teen’s bravado. “And no, you wouldn’t know me. I’m a Sentinel who spends most of my time at the edges of known space. I come to Coruscant once a year at most and it’s rare that I stay for more than a few days.”

It was a reasonable lie for two reasons. The first was that it would excuse some of Alek’s darkness. He wouldn’t be the first Jedi to ‘go gray’ from time spent away from the main Order. It would also help to explain his unusual lightsaber should he need to wield it. Orange was close enough to yellow that he could probably think of an appropriate explanation.

“So, uh, do you know this guy?” Teenage Onasi sounded remarkably less uptight, his eyes shining playfully.

“No, but if he’s a Knight of the Order we should be able to trust him.” Stars, Alek had forgotten how naive Meetra had been before the war.

“We don’t have any proof that we can trust him!” Still eyeing the ‘Sentinel’ with a healthy dose of skepticism, Vann gestured for the blonde to stay back. “I know for a fact that anyone can buy a ‘saber on the black market just to claim that they’re a Jedi.”

It was time to take a risk, at least if Alek wanted to figure out what was going on. “Deran, right? Master Kavar told me about you the last time I was on Coruscant. He was very impressed by your remarkable progress in Juyo.” It was a vague enough statement that it should land well with either of the teenage Jedi.

“You know Kavar?” Meetra arched a brow, clearly torn between caution and curiosity.

“Of course I do. Even Sentinels have to train with the Battle Master on occasion.” Nodding to the figure still sitting on his chest, Alek added, “And of course, almost everyone knows about the Order’s prodigy… Even if the complaints sometimes outweigh the praise.”

This slight dig was enough to make Vann grow pale, a mixture of embarrassment and abject horror dawning across his features. He quickly masked it again as he jumped to his feet and backed away. “Er, well, I… I was just being cautious. To protect the others since they’re probably less capable.”

Alek had only intended to sound like the various Knights he remembered from childhood, most of who chided any Padawan they met as a reminder to be mindful. But he’d forgotten how poorly Vann, or he supposed it was currently Deran, had handled their critiques. As an apology, he hastily added, “You’re wise to be cautious. Never trust a stranger, even if they have a seemingly friendly face.” A sardonic laugh unintentionally burst forth. “Not that my face is anywhere near friendly.”

(PLOT: Vann, Meetra, and Carth touch the wrong thing at the wrong shrine and are turned into themselves at 18. Alek finds himself paying his penance to the Force when he has to simultaneously watch over the trio while trying to figure out how to restore them to their proper ages.)

[douxreviews]

Cloak and Dagger - ‘Vikingtown Sound’ Review

"You have the face of a system that has done nothing but hold me and mine down."

Cloak and Dagger starts laying out some answers as season two heads into the home stretch.

But Ty's mom, though...

We got a few big reveals in this one, and yet none of them feel nearly as compelling as every single moment of Connors and Adina Johnson's discussion over dinner prep. That just shouldn't be possible.

Let's start with some talk about those revelations, because there's a lot to talk about and I don't want them to seem like an afterthought after I go on a good long rave about Gloria Reuben. Spoiler alert: I'm going to go on a good long rave about Gloria Reuben.

After a few notable teases of the mystery veve, most notably in all of the picture frames in Ty's family home inside Tandy's dreamworld last episode, we get the reveal of whose veve it is. It turns out to be one of those reveals that makes you think, 'I should have thought of that,' and yet is still a surprise. The answer, as is obvious in hindsight, is that it's Andre's veve. The twist here being that Andre himself didn't know that until now. That's a clever way to obfuscate the issue. Andre's lack of recognition of the symbol made it seem clear that it must belong to someone else, but of course who else would have caused it to be plastered all over the inside of the visions that Andre was causing Tandy to have. He just didn't know he was doing it.

So Andre is on the cusp of becoming a loa, and had no idea. That's an interesting development, and casts a whole new light on what he's been trying to accomplish this season. It turns out that so far all he's been after is to use the despair of kidnapped girls to make his migraine pain go away and didn't really have a bigger picture goal. Now we find out that the bigger picture had a larger goal for him.

Great use of Auntie Chantelle this week, as relates to this plotline. It made perfect logistic sense that Andre would find Chantelle in Ty's memories and immediately go to her to get some answers about this mysterious veve that he's finding everywhere. It was also satisfying that Chantelle was perfectly honest and straightforward with him, not even being ruffled by the abrupt transition into his 'record store.' Chantelle hasn't always been well used by the show, and it was nice to see her get some good material here. Particularly if she's really dead as the show seemed to indicate. It's hard to be certain; from what we saw it appears that Andre slowed her heart to a stop, trapping her spirit in her happiest memory. At least I think that's what happened, it leaned kind of heavily into visual metaphor, so it's hard to say.

That's not a flaw, buy the way. I'll take 'atmospheric, moving, and vaguely defined' over 'detailed and boring' any day of the week. And it was touching, if unsurprising, that her happiest memory was the birth of her niece Evita. The record seemed to be leading up to Chantelle giving her sister some bad news that she only specifies with 'No, not Evita...' I think we were finally just told why Evita was raised by her aunt. Goodbye Auntie Chantelle. We'll probably never get to learn where you got that 3-D printer now.

In other reveals, Tandy has finally arrived at the Viking Motel, final destination for the kidnapped girls. After weeks of speculation as to what could be going on there, it turns out to be the saddest and least surprising explanation. The girls are there to clean during the day and then get pimped out at night. Although the show is incredibly discreet and tasteful about how explicitly it states that second part. I think in this specific circumstances, that was the right call. There's certainly an argument to be made that if you're going to depict sex slavery that you have an obligation to make it as confrontationally blunt as possible in order to get across how horrific the issue really is. In this case, however, I think the decision to leave the johns as almost entirely faceless and the details of what was happening only implied was the right one because it allowed the focus to remain on the girls as the real victims of the situation. As I said, opinions may legitimately vary on that point.

One thing that didn't entirely gel this week was the way they were using the metaphor of 'losing all your hope' as the real chains that kept the girls in the motel and in slavery. I get what they were going for with that, but it gets muddy when they're also using hope as a real and tangible 'thing' that powers Tandy's light knives. And so the 'imprisoned by the absence of hope' metaphor works in the case of Del; that's absolutely what keeps her from being able to walk out the open door when it's offered to her. But that's absolutely not the case for Tandy. She's not held back by despair, she's held back by a big security guard who physically carries her back inside. They're playing the 'absence of hope' thing metaphorically in one case and literally in another, largely because that allows them to cancel Tandy's powers for a bit, and the two never really dovetail with one another. It's a minor point, but it bugged me a little bit. Not so much that I didn't grin like an idiot when the act of inspiring hope in Del caused Tandy to regrow her own hope, all of which was conveyed to the viewer by the simple device of shining a light on Olivia Holt from below at a key moment.

Meanwhile, Ty gets briefly sidetracked by a run in with Andre and appears to be going the route of despair, but is saved by Mayhem, still trapped in the dark dimension, simply changing the record being played in Andre's store. More, she saves him by using the 'Tandy's perfect life' record that we saw being played last week, which was just a really wonderful tie back to prop detail as metaphor, which is something this show really excels at.

OK, let's talk Adina Johnson and her hostage, Connors.

Everything about this series of scenes was brilliant. Well written, well acted, just note-perfect drama. From the way the dynamic is established with Adina setting the starting point for their discussion through to its resolution, this was raw and real and you could really just excise these scenes from the rest of the series entirely and do them as a one act play, because any outside info you need to understand what's happening is given to you quite naturally in the dialogue. Actually, could someone please do that?

Adina sets up an interesting dilemma for herself. She needs to determine if Ty's need to have Connors alive so that he can clear his name outweighs her need for him to pay for Billy's death. That is one hell of an ethical riddle, and addressing it through the preparation of food was a great conceit. When the meal is ready and Adina goes to the cupboard, it's absolutely crystal clear what we're waiting to be told and how we're going to be told it. If she takes out two plates, Connors lives. If she takes out one, Connors dies. It could not read clearer that that's the situation and it's never even hinted at in the dialogue. I'm not sure how much of that is good writing and how much of it is good directing, but it's amazing. I was on the edge of my seat over dinnerware.

Bits and Pieces:

-- I'm worried about how Evita is going to react to the events of this episode. Now I think of it, Evita has always been kind of a wild card.

-- It's a little odd how the records being played in Andre's dimension affect reality. For example, it was a great visual and really told the story well, but how exactly did playing 'Tandy's Perfect Life' pull a dozen child ballerinas into existence? Or the ambulances that get summoned later?

-- When Ty and Andre clasped hands, Andre read Ty, not a hint of the other way around. Is Andre stronger than Ty? Has he just had more practice? Is it because Ty's powers are so linked with Tandy's and she wasn't there? I'm curious.

-- I adore how little care Mayhem took in putting the records back after she played them.

-- Was Ty's collapse at the end because Mayhem trashed the record store? His dark dimension seemed to be bleeding out of him, and it was intercut with Mayhem trashing the place, so it feels like those are connected. Time will tell.

-- For a metaphorical despair catalog, the record store had a surprising amount of object permanence. Changes Mayhem made to it were still there when Andre came back, so it isn't just a visualization of a metaphor.

-- I didn't expect them to take down the trafficking ring this quickly. They must need to clear that plot out of the way to get to Andre's ascension. Only three episodes left.

-- Connors knows where the real Billy's body has been all this time. That makes them claiming to need 'extra evidence' a couple episodes back even more ridiculous. The actual body, with DNA matching Adina and Otis would probably have been pretty persuasive.

-- They're really building up Connors' off screen Uncle as a threat. I wonder if he's been cast yet. Will he be the villain in season three? Because we're going to get a season three... right?

-- It's a minor point, but Lea knows Tandy's mom. Melissa Bowen has been going to that same group. How is she not remotely worried about her?

-- The opening image of the missing girls flyer falling down and being taken away in a garbage truck was not subtle imagery.

Quotes:

Adina: "I’m in kind of a bind here. Stuck between two forces." Connors: "Good and Evil?" Adina: "Billy and Tyrone."

Del: "My dad was a hammer. My mom was a nail."

Connors: "I get a call from a resident, says that she saw a young man in a hoodie skulking about." Adina: "A young man, or a young black man?" Connors: "She used a different word."

Andre: "What does my symbol mean?" Chantelle: "I’m not so sure I’m keen on telling you that right now."

Chantelle: "If you can’t be merciful when you play god, what kind of god will you be when you ain’t playin’ no more?"

Another great episode, marred only slightly by a couple of small thematic metaphor things that felt a little bit unreconciled to me. Not nearly enough so to spoil the story, however.

Three and a half out of four place settings.

The 'next time' preview seemed to indicate that I was inadvertently right about something last week. That's always a nice feeling.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[of-the-silver-lining]

Prompt #18: Wilt

Before the Crystal Exarch stood the Warrior of Light herself, Iris Geolufeld, in the flesh, real, larger than life, beside Lyna at the gates of the Crystarium, in the First.

She’s here. After all the legends and tales, after one hundred years, after all the failed attempts, finally... finally... He tried to push these thoughts from his mind, lest they overwhelm him, and he be unable to speak to her. He knew that now the hardest part began, and this was the beginning of his end, but for this moment he only felt joyful, thrilled, almost giddy.

Her hair was longer than when he knew her, falling over her shoulders, bright and shining like gold in the ever-present Light. Her face was just as youthful as he remembered, but there was a hardness of wisdom and experience in it now. She was dressed all in black, aptly, for the hero coming to bring the night. She looked stronger than ever, and he felt a bit foolish to have worried about her. He smiled.

A moment of panic had seized him when she had failed to appear in the Ocular. Using the portal, he had searched the city high and low for his hero, his heart in his throat. But then, he had found the trails, and there she stood, calmly looking toward the tower, surrounded by the amethyst leaves of Lakeland.

The Crystal Exarch had taken off running, out of the tower, through the city, without a word to anyone, earning double takes and quizzical looks from the townsfolk.

When he had reached the gate, he saw she had already reached the city, and slowed to a stop. He had intended to maintain his cool composure, but he realized she must have already noticed his swift approach. Perhaps it was for the best that he was running. Now, if she could hear the pounding of his heart, she would think nothing of it.

The Exarch approached his hero, turning his head slightly, careful to keep his face hidden. “Come with me,” he said quietly, “I shall answer whatever questions you might have when we are somewhere more private.”

She was silent, as was her wont, but he knew she must be burning with questions. But she had accepted him, and that was a good sign. When first he had reached out, attempting to pluck her from the Source, she had fought him with everything she had. “Who are you?” He had felt her question echoing through him. As he learned that she and the Scions could hear his voice, echoing stray thoughts and feelings, he had tried to communicate to her the need. And this final time, she had not resisted, but reached out to his voice.

When they were far out of earshot of Lyna and any other guards, he stopped turned to her.

“Right then,” he said. “Before we plunge into the wheres and wherefores, let me first thank you for answering my summons.” He gave a stiff bow. Sincere but detached, as he had prepared. “I had intended to bring you directly to my personal quarters, but I fear my aim was... slightly off. That you were still able to make the crossing unharmed is... a great relief.”

She said nothing; she knew it was not necessary. Ever a woman of few words was she, save for her songs and her tales. The questions hanging before him were obvious.

He began his careful explanation: the shards, the First, and the summoning. “I--in my capacity as the caretaker of the Crystarium--thought to seek the aid of you and your companions.” A careful statement, that would not lead down the wrong path, delivered casually enough to slip by. He paused and looked back at the Crystarium, absentmindedly wondering if she would enjoy the city. She followed his gaze, but looked back at him quickly.

He could not have recalled the sound of her voice, after more than a hundred years. She spoke for the first time--smooth, crisp, lovely, the voice of a singer--and it pummeled him with a wave of bittersweet nostalgia.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?”

Her voice was low and calm, but unmistakably displeased. The brilliant emerald green of her eyes bored into him, her irises wide under the light-soaked sky.

He wilted, on the inside, and he could only hope his cloak hid any appearance of it in his face. Her words were not spoken cruelly, merely fraught with worry and frustration, but it was enough to wither the unchecked joy in his heart and remind him of the context in which they found themselves. And rightfully so. When her friends started falling, one by one, she must have been beside herself with worry. She had lost them before, he knew. And then, with Garlemald poised to attack again, she, the hero of Eorzea, had deserted her home, forced to place her trust in a mysterious stranger who would not even show his face.

How he wished he could simply throw back his hood. How would her expression change? Would it allay all her fears? Would she be surprised and pleased, even overjoyed to see him again? Certainly not as overjoyed as he was to see her. Would she even remember him, after all the faces she had seen, all the souls whose paths she had crossed, the countless grand adventures?

But no, he dared not even think of it. He would be taking the difficult road. He would win her over as a stranger. 

“An inkling, yes,” he answered. “I can only beg your forgiveness--matters here forced my hand. But all shall be explained in due course, I promise you.”

She would understand. Her courage was legendary, as was her strength, her prowess, her resilience, her determination, but so was her patience, and her kindness. She would never turn her back on those in need. Even if she refused his help out of mistrust, she would forge her own path to the Lightwardens and find the way to save the First.

He looked up toward the swirling Light. “Let us begin with the skies up above...”

[tightropenuzlocke]

Tightrope: a Y Storylocke

Chapter One: Life Is Just A Play With No Rehearsal 

They could hardly wait until they got back to the privacy of Serena’s room to snoop. Their own kits lay discarded on the bed to be opened later, because the identity of the final member of their program was far more interesting. The lab assistant who delivered their gear hadn’t known anything, but the packages they had to distribute were of course addressed to their recipients, and that was something to go on.

Xoana was surprised to find an address just down the lane from hers in Bourg Croquis, no doubt belonging to the new neighbors her mother had mentioned, and she suddenly wished she hadn’t volunteered to go with Serena to the pick-up two towns away. Teasingly, the name on the package kindled a faint flicker of recognition in the back of Xoana’s mind, and she rolled the Q around in her head to try and stoke it to life. It wasn’t a common name, at least not in this region, yet she’d heard it before. An old classmate? An acquaintance?

“A Rhyhorn rider!” Serena declared, beaming at her phone and her own cleverness. She read off her screen. “Grace Emer Quinn, born in Éire but a naturalized citizen of Kalos, holds the current world record for both time and obstacles cleared in a Rhyhorn race. Mme Quinn and her partner Rhyhorn, Morrigan,  set the record at the twentieth bi-annual world championships. We watched that as kids, remember?”

It was always easy to find her on the track, emblazoned in bright red and charging recklessly ahead of the pack. Maybe that was why everyone was so taken with her. Xoana and Serena were far from the only ones who had cheered for her against their home region. In fact, she seemed to recall the whole viewing party, aside from her stubbornly loyal stepfather, had worn something red the day of the championship race. Serena had helped tie crimson ribbons in Xoana’s hair and pilfered a scarlet scarf from her mother’s closet for herself. Xoana’s mother had let them drag a blanket onto the floor so that the adults could occupy the surrounding couches and chairs. Xoana had watched the screen on her stomach, pillow squeezed tight in her arms and legs waving behind her.

Or perhaps it had been that force of personality which took the racing world by storm. She had always given interviews in the language of the region hosting despite all the extra effort because she hadn’t wanted anyone to speak for her. Xoana remembered the surety behind her words despite the reaching, the expressiveness despite her limitations, the hearty laugh over her own stumbling that was her trademark. And who could forget that shock of glowing red curls? Xoana had never seen hair like hers on TV before. Then there was that dense smattering of freckles and big, brilliant smile. Maybe Xoana had kept a picture. It was so long ago that she couldn’t quite recall.

But Xoana did remember how her heart had drummed every time she watched her. Kalos had never been so invested in Rhyhorn racing before or since. For a moment it had been almost as big as battling.

“So you think it’s her daughter?”

“Says here she has a daughter our age. And it would explain that Rhyhorn you mentioned.”

That was a good explanation. Rhyhorn weren’t really pets after all.

“Maybe it is her.”

…

“Look alive, Rough Rider!” Cináed tweeted at the top of his damn voice. Aisling groaned and pulled the sheets over her head before he could blast her with the full force of dawn.

There was a soft thump as he dropped from the string of the shade to the windowsill, then a series of softer ones as he hopped his way from her knees to her shoulder. The tapestry above her bed flapped in the sudden gust as he tried to wrest the covers from her iron grip.

“Come on, Aisling!” he whined.

She pretended to be dead.

He fluttered over to her pillow and tunneled into her hair. “Nice nest you have here.” He shuffled his feathers—settling in. “Think I’ll take it.”

“Be my guest.”

“Sure is warm in here,” he chirped pleasantly, snuggling closer to her scalp. It was gonna take a lot more than his scorching chest to get her up. “Do you smell something burning?”

Aisling leapt out of bed right onto her feet. “I’m up!”

A smug twittering drifted from her hair and she stumbled, grumbling, into her bathroom. Cináed poked his bright red head out over her brow and she grudgingly offered him the middle finger, which the Fletchling used to pull himself free.

She turned on the tap and splashed water over her face. Cináed beat a hasty retreat to the towel rack.

“You told me to get you up this morning!” he complained.

She scowled at his reflection. “It’s 6AM!”

He waved his wings in his best approximation of air quotes. “Don’t let me sleep in, Cináed! I need the extra time to get ready!”

“Fuck, that’s today!”

Aisling tripped out of her pajamas and Cináed slipped out the door to avoid the steam. The Fletching stayed close, though, and whistled an old gaelic ballad through the crack as she washed and rinsed and toweled off. As always, he came back in for the hairdryer and she shot him up to the ceiling a few times.

He perched on her bedpost while she threw half her wardrobe across the mattress, trying to get her outfit right. Yes, the jacket is absolutely a power move. Eh, I think we can do better than that skirt. Absolutely wear the boots!

Once she had the clothes, makeup was simple: gold eyeliner, some glitter on her cheekbones, and lip color to match her belt. She bound her hair back with the strongest tie that money could buy, smoothed the front and teased the back.

“How do I look?”

“Ready to cut ’em up!” Cináed chirped, flashing his white wingtips for emphasis.

Aisling grinned but something anchored her feet to the floor. She felt the weight of keen, black eyes watching her.

“Maybe I should come along,” Cináed offered. “I can scope out this starter pokemon for you.”

“Naw.” She waved him off, going for her clutch.

“Then at least take a few feathers!”

He swooped over to her vanity and snatched some of his shed feathers out of the tiny vase she kept them in. She held still as he landed on her head and poked them through her hair tie one by one, five in all. She watched his tail bob in the mirror and he caught sight of her face when he turned.

“They’re good luck!” he chirped before jumping ship.

“I make my own luck,” she reminded him, but her first smile of the day crept across her face as she checked his handiwork. Satisfied, she sprung out the door. “See you later Cináed!”

A scone from mam and a sleepy chuff from Raleigh, still resting in his sand bed, sent her off.

…

The morning was ever so slightly chill and Xoana hugged her warm cup of tea to her chest while she waited for the sun to warm the café patio where the group had gathered. Serena and Tracie nursed their coffees while Tierney finished off her pastry. They had pushed two of the little round tables together and left one seat open for the final member, who had yet to arrive. Xoana’s mother had confirmed via text that the new neighbors were indeed Grace Quinn and her daughter. Everything was squared away and Xoana let things fall quiet.

Tracie’s Pikachu grew bored and tapped her on the arm. Tracie pulled an old, handheld console out of her backpack and set up the kickstand case so Spark could play next to her on the table.

Tierney’s Hawlucha shuffled her wings before spreading them back out to sun some more. Tierney rolled the case of pokeballs idly back and forth on the table in a rhythmic drone.

The sound of bootheels on the cobblestones pulled Xoana out of her stupor. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the young woman that approached them still caught her off guard. For one, Xoana had probably expected someone pale and firey like Grace. Instead she was dark with kinky hair bound tightly back and adorned with Fletching feathers. A little closer, she was almost more freckle than person and the clicking heels belonged to a pair of embroidered riding boots, which fit the picture of famous-Rhyhorn-jockey’s-daughter a little better. The leather jacket she had on emphasized her already broad shoulders and the well-fitted, indigo jeans drew attention to other assets Xoana probably shouldn’t be taking note of.

“Best behavior,” said Serena, which felt very pointed even though it wasn’t.

“Bonjour!” she called out to them.

“Bonjour!” they all answered, standing to greet her.

“You must be Aisling,” Serena continued, offering her hand. “I’m Serena Pascal. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Aisling purred, taking her hand.

The greeting lingered a little before she turned to Xoana, smiling even more broadly if possible. Her mouth was a bit large for her face, but in a nice way, and Xoana made a mental note to ask where she got that shade of purple lip color.

“Xoana Bellamy,” she said before Serena could do it for her. “Great to meet you.”

“Likewise.” It was nice to have someone sound like they meant it.

“We’re actually neighbors. I live in Bourg Croquis too.”

“Really? Maybe you could show me around sometime?”

“Of course!”

Aisling didn’t shift her gaze but thankfully Tierney stepped in to rescue Xoana’s heartbeat from its precipitous climb.

“Tierney Fitzroy.”

Aisling matched her hearty shake with ease. “You got folks in Éire too?”

“Yeah, my father’s family. Éire and Galar.”

Aisling dropped from her light, south Kalos accent into a heavy Éirinn brogue. “The traitors!”

That made Tierney laugh and Aisling moved on to the final member of their group.

“Tracie Chastain,” she said stiffly. Predictably she couldn’t meet Aisling’s eyes, but she did manage a greeting and brief handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Tracie.” If Aisling was off-put or offended by Tracie’s curtness, she didn’t show it. “What’s your Pikachu playing?”

“Dirby and the Crystal Shards.”

“Classic.”

Tierney’s Hawlucha shuffled over and Aisling greeted her as well.

“That’s Valériane,” Tierney explained. “She’s my starter.” Aisling offered her hand, which the Hawlucha patted awkwardly with her claws before waddling over to Tierney’s side. “And Spark is Tracie’s starter.” Tierney tapped the cylindrical case on the table in front of her. “You three get to pick one from Professor Sycamore.”

“But before we do,” said Serena, polite but officious as usual, “there are a few things we should go over. Do you have your trainer license?”

“Just got it yesterday!” Aisling whipped it out of her pocket to show before setting into the chair set aside for her between Xoana and Serena.

“Good. Tracie?”

Tracie already had her backpack in her lap and was pulling things out of it. She slid Aisling’s pokedex, holocaster, and provisional pokemon science licence across the table. Aisling took them wordlessly, practically radiating excitement as Tracie caught her up to speed. She registered, transferred her data and added them all to her contacts.

“Excellent,” said Serena. “Now that that’s sorted, we had a bit of a proposition for you.”

“Oh?” Aisling asked, perking back up.

Xoana spoke first this time. She could feel Serena about to be blunt instead of easing into it as Xoana had suggested. “Well, we thought—since we’re all in the same program—it might be fun to travel all together, as a group.”

“Oh,” said Aisling carefully, “did you all have a chance to meet up earlier?”

“We knew each other before we got into the program,” Serena jumped in.

Xoana could smack her.

“We all went to school together right here in Quarellis!” Tierney added cheerfully.

“Oh.” For the first time Aisling’s face closed and her posture stiffened.

This was exactly what Xoana had wanted to avoid. She swooped back in, leaning a bit over the table to get Aisling’s attention and smiling as bright and friendly as she could while also wanting to strangle her friends just a little.

“So we all get along and thought ‘the more the merrier’ you know?”

“We won’t all be working on the same projects of course,” said Serena, “but we all need to travel around to earn badges and so forth. It might be safer and more expedient to do so in a group.”

“No pressure to accept, obviously,” Xoana added, “but we would really love to have you.”

There was a pause while they all waited for an answer. Xoana could feel her face straining.

“That… sounds great!” Aisling declared, smiling again. “You seem like a good bunch. I’m so happy to have friends up north.”

Xoana stifled a sigh of relief. “That’s great! I’m so excited! This is going to be so much fun!”

“We were really hoping you’d be down for it,” said Tierney.

“Fun fact about me,” said Aisling with another big grin, “I’m down for most things.”

“Good to know!”

“Maybe we should do some icebreakers!” Xoana said. She was back in her element now. “How about we name our goals for the program and a hobby?” She paused, but she couldn’t exactly take that back. “I want to be a pokemon professional of some kind, but I’m not sure about my field. I volunteered at the Center in town and now I’m gonna use this year to look at training and research. Oh, and I like to make accessories and stuff in my spare time.”

“Did you make that bracelet you’re wearing?”

“Yeah!” She fiddled with it. “And the hair ties.”

Aisling surveyed them. “You’re good. They’re cute as anything.”

“Thanks!” She had to elbow Tierney so Aisling would stop looking at her.

Tierney talked about her dance moves project, which Aisling thought was a cool way to combine her passions. Tracie had to be prompted again, but Aisling saw to it this time. She even got Tracie rattling on about fossils until she abruptly clammed up, which meant she had gone back to counting her words. Aisling gave no signal of discomfort and that was as good a sign as any that this might turn out well.

“My goal is to be a professional trainer like my mother,” said Serena. “I hope to do well enough to be considered for Prof. Sycamore’s mega evolution project.” It was amazing how she just did that. Xoana would never be over it.

“And I like running,” she tacked on awkwardly. At least Xoana had something she lacked.

“I hear that helps clear your mind. A bit like riding that way.” It was impressive how she managed to make a connection with all of them right away, whether it was simple appreciation or common ground. “Anyway, my mom’s a big Rhyhorn rider and I’m going to get even more famous for battling. So I’m aiming to slide over into the mega evo project too. As for hobbies, I’ve done all sorts of things and I’m always in the market for a new pastime.”

Serena was measuring Aisling with her eyes, which was not a good sign.

“Since we’re all friends now,” Xoana began pointedly, “why don’t we come up with some nicknames for each other?”

“I like it!” Aisling nodded in approval.

“How about Ash?” Tierney suggested.

“Not bad, but I think I’d prefer to be addressed as My Queen.”

“My Queen?” Serena demanded, incredulous.

“Exactly,” Aisling confirmed, as if Serena had trouble understanding rather than believing. “Or perhaps Your Majesty, if you prefer.” Then she smirked.

Xoana couldn’t remember the last time someone doubled down after Serena challenged them like that. And neither could Serena if the way she pulled back and blinked was anything to go by. Serena’s tongue moved in her mouth, trying to work out a response, and Xoana scrambled to think of something to head her off.

“If you’re Queen, can I be Baronne?” They all looked at Tracie, surprised that she was following the conversation.

“But of course!” said Aisling magnanimously. “All of you are welcome to be nobles in my court.”

“Nice!” said Tierney, once again before Serena had time to process. “I’m feeling Vicomtesse for me. Has a nice ring to it.”

“An excellent choice,” Aisling declared.

“Hmm, I’m thinking Marquise,” Xoana threw in to keep the momentum.

“Perfect.”

“Are we really doing this?” Serena demanded, set back in her chair with her arms crossed.

Xoana smiled. She couldn’t help it. Even with Serena glaring at the both of them, she couldn’t keep it in.

“Aw, come on!” chimed Tierney good-naturedly. “It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, Ser,” Xoana piled on.

Serena looked to Tracie, but she was researching something on her pokedex and predictably failed to notice the call for backup. Alone, tacit refusal was Serena’s only polite recourse. “I can’t think of one.” Can’t think of a rank higher than queen, more like.

Aisling tapped her lip a few times, looking Serena in the eyes, then pointed at her with a flick of her wrist.

“You seem like a Comtesse to me.” She didn’t wait for a response. “Alright, nicknames assigned! Let’s see these starter pokemon!”

Tierney leaned over and placed the case in the middle of the table before opening it, revealing three pokeballs.

“Before I let them out, who’s picking first?”

Xoana watched Serena squirm for a moment. She so obviously wanted first pick but she couldn’t be the one to suggest it. But they had both agreed to let Aisling pick first before she arrived, so Xoana elected to ignore this new development.

“Well if you’re Queen, maybe you should pick first, Aisling.”

“Makes sense,” Tracie agreed, failing to look up from her pokedex.

A muscle in Serena’s forehead twitched.

“Alright then. Let’s do it!”

Three small pokemon emerged in a flash of red light. The first was a Fennekin, who looked around at the assembled and scratched one of her enormous ears. The second was a Chespin who peeked at them before staring down at the table and nervously clasping her forepaws. The last was a Froakie, who glanced placidly around and smiled before using his tongue to clear one of his eyes. They were all so fucking cute. Xoana couldn’t decide which she wanted more.

Serena had decided though. Her eyes were fixed on the fire-type as if the other two didn’t exist. Aisling’s gaze was drawn to the Fennekin as well. Xoana began to brace herself, but then Aisling glanced to either side, catching Xoana’s eyes for a moment before delivering her choice.

“I think I’ll take… the Chespin! Chesnaught are the shit.”

The Chespin looked up, ears at attention, then glanced away and looked back again. Aisling held her gaze, grinning. The Chespin touched a paw to her chest in question.

“Yes, you!” Aisling answered with a snort of amusement. “Get over here.” The Chespin took a few paces forward and sat down in front of her, little nose twitching. “You got nice guns there, short stack.” She flexed one of her own, patting it for emphasis. As if to mirror the motion, the Chespin scratched at her thick arm and smiled tentatively. “You look like a Bree to me. How’s that sound?”

She looked down at a paw, taking a moment to carefully manipulate her digits, then gave Aisling the thumbs up. Beyond her, Serena was slightly irate that the Chespin apparently got more say in her nickname than she had been given.

“Welcome to Team Aisling! Can I get a fist bump?”

Bree closed her paw and tapped it against Aisling’s offered fist. Aisling drew hers away, splaying her fingers and making a sound effect out the side of her mouth. Bree wiggled her claws back experimentally.

“Yeah! You got it.” The Chespin smiled again at the encouragement. It was then that Xoana noticed Serena staring across the table at her.

“Go ahead, Ser—Comtesse. I can’t decide anyway.”

“I’ll take the Fennekin then.” Serena beckoned and the pokemon approached her. “I’ll call you Félicité, alright?”

The Fennekin nodded primly and sat down in front of her, curling her bushy tail over her paws. Serena stroked her fur, almost vibrating with happiness.

Xoana forgave her minor sins.

Aisling smiled too and there was a hint of satisfaction in it. So she had guessed which pokemon Serena wanted and let her have it. That was interesting.

The Froakie shuffled around to face Xoana. He blinked one eye and then the other at her. She melted onto her hands.

“Hi Froakie!” He blew a bubble from both nostrils and sucked them back in. “You are so cute! I love your bubbles! Can I touch them?” She reached out, but waited for him to nod before putting her hand on the ruff of pale, semi-translucent globes around his neck. They were moist and gave a little but didn’t burst.

“That’s so cool!” The Froakie smiled his big froggy smile at her. “Can I call you Froabble?”

The Froakie answered with a ribbit that expanded his throat sack a little. A noise of utter glee escaped Xoana.

The others all grinned at her, even Tracie, albeit with half her mouth. Aisling was leaning on her elbow to get a better view. Xoana could feel her face heating up. Tierney—bless her—rescued her by handing out the pokeballs.

“So, if we’re all going together, what’s the game plan?” Aisling asked, spinning her pokeball on the table like a top.

“We thought it would be best to work out of Neuvartault until it’s time to check in with Prof. Sycamore in Illumis,” said Serena. “There are three adjacent routes to train on and that way we could all earn our first badge before the meeting.”

“Sounds good to me,” Aisling replied.

“We can walk there together tomorrow if you want,” Xoana offered.

“I would like that.” That mouth of hers was deadly and shouldn’t be allowed. “Where are we staying?”

“Xoana and Tierney are staying with Tracie and me since we live close by,” said Serena. “But there’s a nice bed and breakfast in town.”

“Excellent. Send me the name and I’ll put in my housing request.”

Serena was a bit taken aback but couldn’t gracefully decline so reasonable a request, so she picked up her holocaster and texted the info.

“Thanks! All in order now?”

“That’s everything on the checklist,” said Tracie.

“Bree and I should probably get going then. Of course I’d love to stay and get to know you better, but alas, I have other appointments.”

She stood and gathered her things, motioning to her new Chespin to follow. Bree hopped from the chair to the ground and waited right by her ankle, which seemed to please her. She looked back up at them.

“It’s been the utmost pleasure meeting you Baronne, Vicomtesse, Comtesse, Marquise.”

The way her lips curved upward as she lingered on that final word—like she enjoyed the feel of it in her mouth—made something in Xoana’s chest flutter.

As she turned, she revealed to them what resembled a biker gang’s emblem splashed across the back of her jacket. It was a pokemon Xoana didn’t recognize—white and soft yellow with a third eye taking up most of its torso and blue tags hanging from each of the three points on its head. A furling banner below the pokemon’s delicate streamers bore the message: Try My Luck.

“Au revoir!” Aisling called without turning back.

And with that she was gone, pokeball at her belt, Chespin at her side, and even more bravado in the clicking of her boot heels against the cobblestones. Xoana didn’t want to stop staring after her, but that seemed imprudent, so she yanked her eyes back to the café table. Her new Froakie smiled tentatively up at her and she smiled back.

Aisling had been a surprise start to finish, but not an unpleasant one. The meeting certainly hadn’t gone quite as planned either, but perhaps that was to be expected. Serena was slumped in her chair with her chin tucked and no one else took it upon themselves to restart the conversation, so Xoana filled the gap.

“Well, she seemed nice.”

“Nice?” Serena countered, head cocked to the side and one immaculate eyebrow raised. “You call waltzing in like she owned the place and completely taking control ‘nice’?”

Xoana brushed this aside. “She was probably just nervous.”

“Nervous?” Serena was incredulous now. “What part of that display said insecurity to you?”

The Fennekin glanced back at her trainer and then expectantly at Xoana.

“This is a region-wide program. She had no reason to expect that we would all already know each other. It’s intimidating.”

“But—”

“Cut her some slack,” Tierney finally contributed. “You’re the one who was lecturing us to be friendly.”

“So did Xoana!”

“She’s nicer about it,” Tracie muttered, engrossed in her pokedex. Spark played with her handheld, feigning disinterest, but her ears gave her away.

“She told us to call her ‘My Queen’.”

Valériane hopped up and down, beating her wings each time in an attempt to see over the table.

“The nickname thing was my idea!”

Serena rolled her eyes and Xoana’s narrowed. Serena leaned back in her chair and spread her arms.

“So now we’re all lackeys in her court.”

“You’re so dramatic!”

“I’m dramatic?” Serena demanded, hand splayed on her chest like she was performing for a crowded theater.

The total lack of irony was more than Xoana could take.

“Stop repeating everything I say!”

Serena opened her mouth to argue the point, but from the look on her face, realized she was about to shoot Xoana’s words back again and thought better of it.

Xoana considered leaving it there, but she couldn’t.

“I liked her.”

“Of course you did."

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Xoana demanded—as if she didn’t know exactly what it meant—as if they all didn’t know. Xoana’s cheeks flushed. Just once she wanted to hear her say it, but of course she wouldn’t. She never had. “You just don’t like her because you’re used to being the alpha friend.”

“Wha— That’s not true!”

Serena looked to Tracie and Tierney but neither met her eyes. Then she had the nerve to pout. Fuck her and her adorable face.

Serena’s Fennekin hopped off the table into her lap and she stroked her absently.

Valériane made an inelegant attempt to haul herself up onto Aisling’s now empty chair. Xoana leaned over to offer the Hawlucha a hand and chewed the inside of her cheek as Valériane pulled herself up and settled into the seat.

“Listen,” she said at length, “you’re being a Skiddo about this.”

Serena grunted—as if to illustrate Xoana’s point.

“It would make everything easier and a lot more fun if we could all be friends.”

“That is almost exactly what you said an hour ago, Ser.” Tierney reminded her. Tracie nodded in agreement.

That only made Serena’s brow set even further. Time to change tack.

“We’ve got a whole dynamic going and it’s weird to shake it up, but maybe it’ll be good.”

Serena grunted again.

“If you don’t want to see sense, could you at least give her another chance as a favor to me? If you’re feeling generous, that is.”

Serena tried not to smile at the dig, but couldn’t help it. “Fine.” She scratched Félicité between the ears and the tension flowed off her. “First impressions aren’t everything.”

…

“Raleigh, I’m home!”

“So I see,” he said dryly, but he was waiting for her at the gate.

“Meet, Bree, my starter!” The Chespin ducked behind Aislings legs. “Bree, this is Raleigh. He’s a racer.”

Bree gave Raleigh a tentative wave.

“A plant-type, huh? Don’t ask me to spar with her.”

“Cináed’ll keep her in line, ya big calf.”

Bree made herself small so Aisling shoved the Rhyhorn aside to show her he was all bulk and no bite.

Grace came out of the house with Cináed and Aisling snatched up her starter.

“Look mam! I got a Chespin! Brawny and tenacious! Her name’s Bree.”

“Nice ta meecha there, Bree!” said Cináed.

“Welcome to the family!” said Grace and shook the Chespin’s paw. “How’d the meeting go?”

“Great!” Aisling bounced up on her toes and then hastily put her starter down so that she could emote more safely. “They were all girls! And two of ‘em were black! I miss the ranch already, but it’s so nice to be closer to the city.”

“I know what ya mean. I’m so happy for ya, alanna!”

“And they were all so nice! Serena might be a bit stuck-up, but she’s cute and kinda fun to mess with. Tracie’s shy but she was trying really hard and ya can just tell she’s smart. Tierney—”

“Tierney now?” Grace interrupted with a grin.

“Oh-aye!” Aisling confirmed in kind. “She had a fun vibe to her. Really interesting project too. And then Xoana—gods is she ever winsome—was so sweet and friendly. Made sure I was comfortable and all that. And you should’ve seen her when she got her Froakie.” She was gushing now but couldn’t help it. “They’re a bit odd, yanno? But she just thought he was the most precious thing in the world, moist skin and all.”

“Even the gooey mons deserve a fan I suppose.”

“But that’s not even the best part! We’re all going to travel together!”

“What a relief!” Grace made a big show of wiping her brow.

“I woulda been fine on me own!” She pouted for a moment but her mother only laughed. “This’ll be more fun anyway. They really are a nice bunch.” Aisling was bouncing in place now. “I can’t wait to start!”

“I’m so happy and so proud of you,” said her mother, voice as warm as the bread she could smell baking.

“Aw mam, you’re always proud of me.”

“Too right! And I always will be no matter what happens.” She brushed Aisling’s cheek with her hand. “But I also know you’ll do well. Us Quinns are women of action—adventurers through and through! There ain’t nothing we can’t do if we set our minds to it!” Raleigh snorted with approval and Cináed nodded vigorously from his perch on Grace’s shoulder.

“Yeah, alright,” said Aisling with a roll of her eyes.

Bree looked heartened and excited by all the enthusiasm, even though she probably didn’t catch much of what was said. Pokemon had a knack for getting the gist of things even without the understanding.

“Though I would like to tack on an addendum, which is that there are certain things we perhaps shouldn’t do… Like our coworkers, for instance.”

“Mam!” Aisling flushed and Grace tried not to laugh. “I’m not an idiot!”

“Nor am I, but you only have to be a fool once.”

“I know,” Aisling sighed.

“O’course, sometimes it can be the best thing that ever happened to ya.” A grudging smile wormed its way onto Aisling face. “Are ya leaving soon or hanging around for a few more days?”

“Heading out in the morning. We’re all going to stay in Neuvartault until it’s time for our first evaluation.”

“Sensible,” Grace sighed. “You’ll call me though, won’t you?”

“O’course I will. If you get a holocaster, you can see my beautiful face in glorious 3D.” She waved her new device at her mother.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But you’re coming with me, right Cináed?”

He bobbed. “I promised, didn’t I?”

“Yes!” She pumped her fist.

“But just until you beat the first gym,” he reminded her. “I’m a songbird, not a battler.”

“Yeah yeah, ya coward. We’ve got a deal.”

Team Aisling:

Team Xoana:

Team Serena:

Team Tierney:

Team Tracie:

[darkhymns-fic]

Hollowed

Lloyd would make sure to stay by her side, even when everyone said she was already gone.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Raine Sage, Genis Sage Rating: G Mirror Links: AO3 Notes: For Tales Whump Week, Day 7, “Stay with Me.” Bit of a tragic romance, fair warning. (I’m sorry).

It was Lloyd’s role to help make camp for the night.

He would find a place underneath the wide-branched trees, the moonlight seeping through the space between the leaves. He’d make sure to put out the campfire when it was time, stomping out the ash and in turn, the smoke. He’d roll out their sleeping packs, always making two, although one would remain virtually unwrinkled by morning. He’d feed Noishe when the dog-creature came back from his wanderings, scratching behind his ears, Lloyd brightly smiling as he did so.

Once all that was done, Lloyd would look forward, to where Colette stood, staring out into the night sky. The soft hue from her wings would paint the grass beneath her, making the stalks turn dark violet. Before he called out to her, he would always hesitate.

“Colette, we should go to bed now.”

But she’d been awake for the past three years.

Genis once told him it was hard to look at her face for very long. The flat plateau of red that gazed out from those eyes only made the heart slow. Time was meaningless for Colette, so anyone who looked at her felt that same meaningless reach out to them, leaving them stranded in silence and monotony.

Lloyd couldn’t really understand such a feeling. Why look away? Doing so would only leave Colette alone.

He watched her come to him, footsteps even, her hair barely lifted by the air. She was framed by her wings, which she rarely dismissed. As if the eyes were not enough of a reminder.

“There’s supposed to be a bunch of Exsphere traders to the south,” Lloyd told her, stretching out the blankets a bit more. The night was cold, so he kept his jacket buttoned around him tight. “Somewhere near Triet. Remember? I wonder if they have that old poster of me somewhere…”

Colette said nothing. Instead she knelt on the grass before him, her eyes fixated on his movements.

“I guess they’d have gotten rid of it by now.” He sat down as well, then tried to call Noishe over. But the dog fidgeted, scurrying back to the trees as much as possible. “We haven’t been there for a while…” He turned back to Colette to smile at her. “Kind of exciting, huh?”

Colette’s eyes were full of crimson and reflected starlight.

.

.

.

There were four moments when Lloyd felt the world around him falling away. And one where he decided against it.

The first was when she stepped away from him and said goodbye. After that, neither a failed necklace, an old dwarf’s failing hands, nor weakening hopes could change the inevitable. Colette’s soul was lost, and in her place was a marionette, motivated by the guidance of others and self-preservation written into her core.

It was enough to have her break Pronyma’s arms in two in that parallel world. Raine had explained that Colette’s basic instincts must have thought the woman was reaching out to strangle her. Her voice had been shaking just as much as Lloyd’s heart did, remembering the loud crack and the Grand Cardinal’s screams. It had even been enough to quiet down Zelos for a few hours.

In Sybak, Kratos had come to Lloyd alone. “You should leave it be.”

That was before, when hope still kindled in his chest. “Why? So you and Cruxis can take her?”

Lloyd’s hands had been on his sword hilts. Kratos made no similar motion. His face showed much of nothing, keeping him as unreadable as the day they first met. “Do not get your hopes up. Sometimes we lose something precious, and nothing can be done about it.”

In the hotel they stayed at, Colette would stare out the window, the light of her wings shining like a beacon, lost in fog.

The second was when a new face came to share the grief. Someone who had never known that Colette could still laugh after a brutal fall, or wave away certain greens from her dinner plate.

That face was Zelos, one that shared Colette’s status, if not her ultimate destiny. His nickname for her seemed more cruel than anything else. There was no need for reminders – her wings, always manifested, were enough. He once tried to sidle up to her, teeth wide in a grin, as he bestowed upon her a shower of compliments that made Lloyd’s head stir with static. Just before he could tell the other to cram it, Zelos walked ahead, eyes lowered, lips twisted with something that Lloyd hesitated to call a smile.

Then there came more. With Presea, the engulfing presence of silence, of walking death, was becoming harder to ignore. Yet even Presea would speak, no matter how hollow her throat was, and she took no offense to Genis holding her hand as they both traversed a fallen log in the Gaoracchia forest. Lloyd could only look to Colette, watching her avoid the obstacle with her wings, and his hands would clench.

Genis and Raine would speak of Colette, of who she used to be, to each new face that joined their quest. To explain away the loss of a friend is difficult, even more so when they were standing just behind your shoulder. Not that Lloyd would ever say she was lost – merely absent, sleeping, waiting for someone to wake her up. He listened to their explanations, and it never felt enough.

Regal was the only new face that spoke with him directly. “She means much to you, doesn’t she?”

They got the ore from the mine that night. Ideas flitted through Lloyd’s mind as he wondered how he could coax Colette to borrow her necklace. Or perhaps make a new one, one that was better, one that would actually work despite his lacking skills. “We’ll get her back.”

Regal seemed to know when to end conversations. He didn’t press on and instead said, “Thank you for helping Presea as well.”

“I have to save the people in front of me,” Lloyd answered him.

When did he become such a liar?

The third was at the Iselian Ranch, when Colette, the girl who sliced through Desians without remorse, did the unthinkable.

No one understood why she would put herself in harm’s way. Perhaps it was the bubbling of the world’s mana as Sheena prepared the cannon, messing with the crystal’s hold on her. Lloyd was as surprised as anyone that she rushed in front of Forcystus’ weapon, taking the brunt of his shot. His hands still ached from the strain of plunging his sword deep in the half-elf’s torso.

It was pure luck finding out about Colette’s sickness, the crystal eating up her skin. Raine theorized that perhaps this was her self-preservation at work, revealing her problem because she innately knew that they would do something about it. Lloyd had to bite his lip to keep from shouting at her, speaking of Colette as if she wasn’t right here with them. She wasn’t dead, no matter how much everyone else might have wished that.

Then Zelos made the mistake of speaking. “Well, least she ain’t really bothered by it.”

Genis was only successful in holding back Lloyd from throwing a second punch.

The fourth was back at the tower, further gone, and crueler than the last.

The only reason Lloyd knew anything about Martel was because of Colette. The stories she would tell him, learned from her Church lessons, the soft recitations of prayers he would hear her speak beneath her breath, and the awe in her eyes of knowing the benevolence of such a Goddess. It was only through Colette’s mouth that Martel ever seemed important.

He had fought his way through the tower, and then Colette stepped out of that small chamber, her wings vanished and her steps no longer so autonomous. Yggdrasill had been radiant, hands reaching out, draped in blinding light. Colette’s eyes squinted from the strain, her mouth shaped in an o. She pressed one hand against her chest, each motion of her so human and so real that Lloyd was ready to rush to her, to make sure that nothing of her left was still as rigid as steel.

Then when she spoke, a different voice left her throat.

After Yggdrasill vanished and Colette went back to being motionless, pink and violet sparkling from beyond her head, Lloyd hadn’t realized how much he had been crying since then.

The now single world moved on, but Colette never shifted.

Lloyd took her to his home once everything was done with. Kratos had been seated by the table, leg still aching. “What will you do now?” he asked his son.

Behind him, Lloyd could hear his dwarven father continue his metalsmithing, unmindful to the turbulence of the world for the past couple of days. His dedication to his commissions was almost to a fault. “Me and Colette will be gathering the Exspheres.”

Kratos’ impassivity broke slightly. He looked pained. Lloyd could hear the words waiting on the man’s breath. She could join with me and the others, on Derris-Kharlan.

“Colette loved Sylvarant,” he said quickly. “I think she’d rather be here.”

When Raine and Genis visited later, they were a little more forceful.

“Lloyd, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Genis sat at the same table, fingers tapping the surface. Colette was seated next to him, back straight, her gaze boring into the wall across from her. “You remember that fighting with her was always like walking on eggshells, right?”

Whenever someone got too close, especially as they swung a weapon, Colette would lash out. She could only stay back, summoning her spells, a wide berth of emptiness around her.

“She’s getting better,” Lloyd stated, carefully sheathing both his fathers’ swords. The pit of his stomach was cold. “She’s already more used to people now.”

“Wishful thinking,” Raine countered back. “Lloyd. You should come with us. You can still find Exspheres as we move along. What Colette needs now is an environment where she won’t be challenged into her defensive measures at every possible opportunity.”

Lloyd’s voice grew hard. “She can’t go home.” He saw Frank and Phaidra’s faces. Their young daughter and granddaughter might as well have been dead to them. It’s easier when you thought of someone dead instead of suffering, he realized. “And I won’t have Kratos take her. What if she finally wakes up and she finds herself all alone with strangers?”

“I thought we explained this to you.” There was condescension in Raine’s voice that he hadn’t heard since he was in the classroom. “Her soul is highly likely to be gone now. There is no one left in there to wake. Come with us.”

He hated himself for being tempted.

Genis stood, making his way around the table to get near Lloyd’s side. “Seriously, Lloyd. We tried everything. Maybe just-”

He had to go around Colette to do so though.

His body had slightly brushed against her shoulder. She turned, fingers wrapped around the chakram’s blade, and wound her arm back to strike. Lloyd rushed on top of the table, tackling Colette to the ground before she could slice open Genis’ neck. Raine gathered her little brother in her arms, scuttling them both to the front door. Both were pale.

“Colette!” Lloyd kept his arms around her as he held her from behind, locking her shoulder. “It’s okay! It’s fine!”

“Lloyd, get away from her!” Raine frantically searched for her staff, which she had left standing outside the home.

“No! It’s alright! Colette!” He embraced her tightly, face buried in the back of her hair. She moved violently, smashing him near the stove. Pans and vases fell around them. “No one’s going to hurt you! I’m here, okay? No one will ever hurt you!”

Then she had stopped.

The sudden stillness was more frightening than her movements from before. Hands lowered, and she laid back against Lloyd’s chest, looking up at the ceiling. Broken pieces of crockery fell around them like the mistakes of a watercolor painting. Genis and Raine didn’t dare to move forward.

All the while, Lloyd relaxed his grip, then placed one hand against Colette’s head. His breath nearly choked him.

“Everything’s okay,” he told her, ignoring his friends, attention only on her.

He would not let Colette fall away to nothing.

.

.

.

No one argued with Lloyd when he took her with him.

The last night before they set out, Colette had stood by Lloyd’s side. She seemed to watch over his shoulder as he got their supplies ready, as he talked with her, voice as light as it used to be. Dirk, more silent than he had been in years, took the boy aside.

“I’ve fixed up the nicks in your swords. Fully reinforced. Not even another mad god can damage them.” The dwarf held out the materia swords to his son, their dancing colors of red and azure slipping through their sheaths.

“Thanks,” Lloyd said, reaching for it until Dirk placed a thick hand over his.

“You come back whenever you need to. You and Colette. Understand?”

Lloyd recognized this. The same worry that had passed over Kratos’ face the last time he saw him before leaving. Only difference was that Kratos hadn’t uttered these words, knowing that he could not promise Lloyd anything else but a memory.

He nodded at the dwarf, and took the swords. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

Lloyd wouldn’t leave Colette alone anymore.

So on that night they camped underneath the stars, Lloyd stayed beside her, reaching for her hand. It was cold, barely reacting to much at all. He kept his grip, intertwining their fingers together. If he kept looking up at the stars, he could imagine it was just like how they always used to be, back in Iselia. She would sit next to him on the grass, trying to match patterns in the sky, and she’d laugh while doing so.

But that’s what everyone did with Colette – look away, pretend she didn’t exist.

He turned to her, her gaze still hollow, but her hand never leaving his.

“Maybe I should have asked… if you wanted to come with me first.” A thumb rubbed against her palm, half-tracing words he was thinking. “Your family would still take care of you… and Kratos would, too. I guess he would know how to…” He paused, still looking at her. “But… I didn’t want that.”

The breeze had become sharp, the cold so deep that it made Lloyd shake. He reflexively reached for a blanket that he had folded up a bit messily, throwing it around both of their shoulders. Colette didn’t try to hunker down into it, and her side of the blanket kept slipping off her shoulder. The light of her wings slipped through the material, still hovering behind them, lighting up the grass in soft, dark hues.

“Ah, sorry,” he said, still looping the blanket on her until it finally stayed. “But I guess it wouldn’t –” he stopped himself before he could go on. He just kept the blankets on them both, bending his head slightly. He could see her eyes clearly, even in the night’s shadows. If he looked hard enough, then maybe.

Then maybe.

“I just wanted you to stay with me,” he said. So odd to just hear his voice and not hers. But she breathed. Just slightly, just barely. But she did, and she was alive. How could no one else see that? “I messed up everything, I didn’t protect you like I said… But I still want you to stay with me.”

If she had a voice, wouldn’t she say how she wanted to leave?

Only since that time he had calmed her down, had he ever been able to stay this close. Throughout most of the journey, there was only distance, because to get near was too risky. But every day, she walked beside him. And every night, she sat next to him, too. That had to have meant something.

This was around the time that he would go to sleep, and she would stay seated on the grass, her wings the last sight he would see before slumbering. But he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to let go.

“I love you, Colette. I’m sorry I never said that earlier.” He leaned in just a bit more, forehead just barely touching hers. Her eyes stayed the same. “I’m sorry.”

Then she leaned forward, too.

It was only towards the crook of his neck, resting her head against his shoulder. Her eyes never blinked, or shift their gaze from always looking straight forward, but she had moved, her hair brushing his chin. Something tightened around his hand. It was her own.

It had all been so small. Every action of Colette’s was like that now, everything except when she fought against a threat. It was small, but it had felt so alive.

Lloyd wrapped his other arm around her back, keeping her close, the blanket shielding them from the cold. Tears left his eyes, falling against Colette’s cheek. She couldn’t cry anymore, so he would do it for the both of them.

Her hand stayed in his grip, still holding fast. She would stay, she would stay.

[neni-has-ascended]

Any thoughts on the new SU episodes from two weeks ago?

So, in general I was very pleased by how the decided to handle this storyline. In general it wasn’t quite as explosive as I would have hoped, but nevertheless very satisfying. That doesn’t mean it was flawless, of course (what ever ist? I do think there’s quite a few things that could have been executed much better) but it did avoid quite a few terribly annoying tropes while playing into a lot far more pleasant ones.

I’m taking the more detailed view of mine under the cut, to avoid spoiling latecomers!

SPOILERS START HERE

Now we’re only falling apart:

I’m glad the fantheory that Sapphire was gonna betray the CG turned out to be bullshit. It would have been terribly out of character for her to betray her friends and love over something that a person who, for all intents and purposes, is already dead did. Now, running away and crying over it? That I can get. 

What needs to be understood about Sapphire as a person is that she doesn’t just hate the Unknown; she is terrified of it. Thanks to her futurevision, there has almost never been a time in Sapphire’s life when she’s felt like she couldn’t guess the correct course of action in any given situation, or when she didn’t have an idea of what was going to happen. Even Steven’s character development throwing off her calculations wasn’t so bad as that she was completely blindsighted. The one other time this has happened before was when she hooked up with  Ruby and then she had, well, the fact that  at least it led to Ruby and her saving one another to comfort her. Here? She must feel like shes done everything right in a Visual Novel game and yet the script STILL somehow tossed her into the worst possible ending route. I’d ragequit too! 

As for the revelations regarding Pink: They were exactly what I already assumed from the moment of the twist. I knew this was probably exactly as it happened. Pink was naive to what it  meant to colonize a planet, and when she figured out she got sick in the stomach from realizing what’s going to be lost by the end of it. And of course, her sisters didn’t listen, because they’re Blue and Yellow and Blue and Yellow don’t listen to anything that doesn’t align with “the old order”(TM).That Rose Quarz as such, design and all, was Pearl’s idea, surprised me positively. I really like that detail. It shows that Pearl had so much creative potential right from her creation that was being squandered by her assigned role as a servant and only goes to show how flawed the Diamond’s hierarchy of thinking living minds of any sort could be forced into specific castes is. Pink being a little *too* excited at the prospect of fusing with Pearl (or any gems in general) was pretty cute too. She really just wanted to enjoy life. I am starting to feel like each Diamond represents one aspect of the mind; Yellow is cold logic, Blue is emotion and Pink is passion (which can lead into love). Makes me wonder what White is. 

What’s Your Problem

I’ll admit, I was faked out at first. I genuinely thought  season 1 Amethyst was suddenly back at it again, just not caring about the consequences of her actions. When I realized this was actually her slightly misguided attempts to keep Steven from destroying himself over the fiasco his mother caused, I was very positively surprised. Steven really said it best: Amethyst and Steven are the two Crystal Gems who have grown the most as people thanks to overcoming the questions regarding their places in the world. Also, Steven being so incredibly insistent about playing therapist for her kinda reminds me of how I can be with my friends as well, ahaha- Actually, my friends are often like Amethyst in this episode too.

The Question

A RUBY EPISODE YES YES YES YES-

Honestly, I hope that now that Ruby and Sapphire are married and have that to validify their bond aside from their fusion, we’ll see more episodes with them acting independently. As much as I like them as a unit in Garnet, I love them as individual characters as well, especially in how they bounce off each other, something usually only see when Garnet struggles with herself briefly. (Still wanna see them play Meat Beat Mania against one another, and see if that’d lead to the same disaster as when they played it as Garnet-) 

Ruby was adorable in this episode. Charlene Yi may not be a good singer (sorry-) but she is an amazing actress, who I always love to see in anything, no matter what, when she just nails this flaming little ball of nervous badassery whenever she’s on screen. Hope Sapphire ends up sharing her newfound love for comics. Wouldn’t it be cool to see Garnet argue with herself over ships in the background of an episode sometime?

My only complaint is that the proposal could have been an episode all on its own. I would have loved to see more of Ruby and Sapphire deal with coming to terms with the fact that their fusion can’t always be 100% stable and that’s okay and doesn’t make then any less of an amazing couple and team. Doesn’t change the fact that the proposal was cute as heck. Like, I swear, Ruby is a million times better at proposing than me. When I proposed I just ended up flipping the table over my plans halfway through and throwing the ring at him like a moron-

Made of Honor

Should have been a Two Parter. At least. Like, goddamn, this was way too important a plot point to just throw it out in a single 10 minutes segment, you guys! This just continues to show the problems with the Steven Bomb format. This thing needed to end on a climax after 5 eps, right? Not sure if that’s how it was planned, probably not, but that’s what it felt like. There should have been more of a storyline with Bismuth running of and trying to figure out stuff, kinda like Ruby. Heck, maybe those things should have overlapped somehow, I wouldn’t be able to come up with anything brilliant off the top of my head. However, Steven should have had to invest way more effort  into patching things up with Bis’. Bis’ just learned that her entire style of life was built on a lie. I would have been interesting to see her just go into a state where she randomly starts building spires, trying to fulfill her purpose again in utter defeat, until Steven snaps her out of it. That would have conveyed things a bit better. 

I have no problem with Bismuth rejoining the team. She saw that her plan of assassinating key figures in the enemy forces only lead to the entire rebel army basically being nuked.That definitely was enough to shock her out of her genocidal intentions. So yes, I do accept that explanation. In the end she was just as naive as Pink, but in a different way.

Reunited

Let me get out of the way that the first half was all kinds of amazing for one single reason:It had a marriage scene that a) Didn’t come at the tailend of the story and b)Didn’t involve pain and disaster for everyone involved! I’m so sick of marriages in media only being used either as elements of an epilogue (”Happily ever after!”) or as a source of drama. As if working relationships were boring or something. They’re so interesting, especially when written right! Totally ignoring the gay aspect of it all (which is a great thing all in of itself), this is one of the best marriages I’ve seen on TV period! No arranged marriages, no annoying love triangles, no jackass suddenly bursting in going “I OBJECT TO THIS UNION” no bride suddenly bursting into tears because everything is horrible, no “And they lived happily ever after SHOW OVER” BS. Just a proper, nice step in the development of two characters. Also, Garnet’s dress is friggin’ gorgeous

The second half is where the special loses me a bit. Not with the script, that one is pretty great. Aside from once again relegating Peridot to comic relief, that is- Seriously, she can’t even get to use a single attack drone? Tch. Cheep. She has actual skills, you guys! Don’t treat her like a Magikarp! User her assets! 

What lost me was the art direction and animation. While there was a lot of beautiful animation, especially on Blue Diamond, there was also plenty of derp, slow scenes, awkwardly choreographed battle moves... And the way Stephen using his telepathy to resolve the battle was portrayed visually was just very uninspired. It made the characters’ movements look so awkward. I wish they’d invited Horikoshi back in for this scene, because he managed similar scenes back in “Mindful Education” way better. Oh well... All in all, the art direction of that specific scenes just left me deeply underwhelmed.

All in all, however, this has been a very nice storyline so far. Can’t wait for the pay-off!

[literary-spirit]

Confessions of a Mikaelson: Possessing the Bennett

*Warning there's not only smut in this chapter, but there'll also be a crap ton of lemonade throughout this story. It's rated M for a reason, my fellow Bonnie lovers. So if you're not with it then I'll completely understand and for those of you who wish to proceed, please remember to buckle your seatbelts and strap on you helmets, this road is cluttered and broken.* Okay so Francesca and I are working on something new. This WIP begins at the end of 01X01 TVD and swerves recklessly out of the canon plot line into a very strange AU! So you've been warned! Flame it or acclaim in comments. I'll leave it up to the Bennett Fandom on whether this hot mess of a WIP lives to see another update!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

Bonnie Bennett glared down at her smashed to hell pager. "Fucking, fuckery, fuck!"

She cringed after the string of no-no words leapt from her mouth. Unholy hell. Well, that would be another fifteen dollars for the swear jar. Her Grams had created the damn thing before she passed away. It was meant to help her broaden her vocabulary now it would probably be what put her through college.

For reasons she never really wanted to consider, she still faithfully added money to the jar whenever one of those slippery bastards (swear words) tumbled from her lips. Which fortunately only occurred when she was upset, stressed, depressed, bored, or angry. Okay, when she reflected upon it, half of her verbal interactions consisted of inappropriate phrases. Who the hell was she fooling? Her tongue had never met an explicit word it couldn't commit to.

Her glare left her broken pager to assess the front wheel of her bike. The damn thing had nearly folded in half. Well, it could've been worse. Instead of Caroline Forbes making her crash her bike into one of the wooden poles of Wickery Bridge, she could've simply knocked her over the rail. Bonnie wondered if the vapid bitch would've stopped then. She shook her head. Probably not. Why would she?

Bonnie Bennett was selectively invisible to the Mystic Falls' High elite. The only time any of those beautiful vultures ever acknowledged her was when they wanted to score some mushrooms and organic Mary J from her Grams garden or if they wanted to purchase a term paper. Other than that, she could walk down the halls bare assed wearing nothing but a smile and no one would raise even a threaded eyebrow. However, their impaired vision on all things Bonnie Bennett suited her just fine. She preferred living her day to day in between the lines. It afforded her certain privacies those who basked in the spot light were denied.

Yet, that evening she could've used just a bit of the spotlight. Not only was her bike a fucking tragedy, but her ankle was busted all to hell too. Without a ride or a phone, she'd have to limp her happy ass all the way home. Unless, the caretaker of the Mikaelson Estate took pity on her and allowed her to call a taxi. Bonnie didn't hold out much hope, though.

She honestly couldn't remember the last time the old crusty son of a bitch opened the wrought iron front gates. Maybe it was the last time the Mikaelsons were actually in residence. But when the hell was that? She'd lived in Mystic Falls all of her life and she'd never so much as caught a glimpse of the family. Talk was, they travelled year round and the Mikaelson Estate was only one of many properties they owned. And if rumors danced close to fact, then the residence should be in possession of at least one damn phone.

Not wanting to linger any longer on the bridge which hosted a shit ton of animal attacks, Bonnie struggled to drag her bike to the grassy area under the Wickery sign. Once she chained it to the wooden pole, she began to limp towards the Estate. It took her fifteen slow as shit minutes to reach the intercom outside the gates. To her surprise the house twinkled with a dozen or so lights too many. A frown crumpled her face. Normally, the house stood cloaked in shadows around that time of evening. For a brief second she found herself hesitating to press the intercom button. However, the aching throb of her ankle gave her the motivation she required to ring the caretaker.

A few moments after the crackly sound subsided an elderly voice answered. "Yes?"

"Hi," she said, trying her damnest to put on her sweetest good girl voice. "I just wrecked my bike on Wickery Bridge and broke my pager. Would it be possible for me to use your phone?"

Without explanation the intercom went silent. When she moved to press the button again, the gates swung open. Her eyes nearly hit the paved driveway at the sight of an old school Bentley pulling to a stop at the entrance. Seconds later, the—older than sand—caretaker exited the driver seat and shuffled around the car to open the back door.

Bonnie hobbled over to the car. Once there, she eased herself into the back seat. After closing the door, it took him every bit of eight minutes to reclaim his seat behind the steering wheel and another ten before he pulled the Bentley in front of the huge French glass double doors at the front of the Mansion. Deciding not to wait another twenty minutes for the caretaker to open her door, she slid from the backseat.

By the time she'd limped to the entrance, the caretaker had pulled the car away from the front of the house. Soon as she teetered to a stop on the proverbial welcome mat, the doors swung open. The air thickened right before several intoxicating forces nearly knocked her to the ground. An electric pulsing sensation shot from her center and surged through her vessels. The pulsating pooled in the palms of her hands, while forcing its way outward to thrum just beneath the surface of her skin. It was almost as if the intense vibrations deep within her responded to the pounding energy pouring from the mansion.

Bonnie stood on the fucking precipice. Her spidey senses told her that if she leaped nothing in her world would ever be the same. If she turned back now her life would resume unchanged. Being a habitual creature who never deviated from patterns or set routines, she knew the choice she should've selected. However, the draw beyond the threshold appealed to her way more than the comfort of her normal resting state. She inhaled enough oxygen for two and stepped inside before she had the chance to second guess her sanity.

Once inside the doors automatically closed behind her. Bonnie barely took notice. The spacious ornate foyer held her focus. Truth was, she didn't know what the hell to ogle first. From the massive crystal chandelier suspended at least sixty feet off the ground to the floor to ceiling marbled columns, everything vied for her absolute attention.

She couldn't believe people actually lounged in such a cushy lap of luxury. She'd never seen anything so...lavish. Not even Zach Salvatore's Boarding House could hold a blow torch to the Mikaelson Estate and his mansion was believed to be the nicest in town. That's if one didn't count the Lockwood Plantation. And she didn't. The slave quarters the Lockwood's still maintained on their property snatched them right out of the running.

The fine hair stood on the back of her neck as goose bumps pebbled the skin on her arms. She was being watched. Of course she was being watched. Whoever maintained the place alongside the caretaker probably wanted to make sure a few priceless knick-knacks didn't find its way into her pockets.

"Hello," A feminine voice greeted her from behind.

She limped around to face the owner of the voice. A sophisticated middle age lady stood before her looking like she'd just taken a bath in one percent privilege. The ends of her silky blond hair fell a couple of inches below her jawline in a professionally tapered bob to frame a passingly attractive oval shaped face. Tasteful, but expensive jewelry twinkled from her ears, wrist, and neck. The low-key touch brought a little more glamour to the understated white sundress she wore. After a head to toe assessment, she concluded there was no way in hell this woman was the housekeeper.

Bonnie cleared her throat. "Hey, I'm Bonnie Bennett." The woman's assessing blue gaze slightly flared with recognition. "I wrecked my bike a couple of hundred yards back on Wickery Bridge and totaled my fucking pager." Shit! Another five dollars for the swear jar. She squeezed her eyes closed. "Sorry, didn't mean to swear," she mumbled before retraining her gaze on the older lady who looked more amused than offended. "But in my defense this day has been a total shi-..." she shook her head, "never mind. Would it be okay if I used your phone?"

"Absolutely, Miss Bennett," the woman said, while strolling further into the foyer. "And before I misremember my manners allow me to introduce myself. I'm Esther Mikaelson."

Surprise stretched Bonnie's eyes wide. No fucking way! Wait until the founding families got an ear full of this news. Carol Lockwood would no doubt wet her panties when she heard the Mikaelsons had come to town. She mentally shook her head as she limped forward to grasp Mrs. Mikaelson extended hand.

The corners of the woman's mouth travelled south under the weight of a frown as she gazed down at Bonnie's sneakers. "Were you harmed?" Mrs. Mikaelson questioned as her intense stare reestablished eye contact between them.

"Think I sprained my ankle," she said, while lifting her injured limb. "I'm sure it'll be fine once I get some ice on it, though."

Esther's brow puckered. "Finn!"

"Yes, mother?" A tall—totally fuckable—man appeared from behind the same door Esther exited.

"Miss Bennett-,"

"Miss Bennett?" He questioned with an arched brow.

"Yes...Miss Bennett, this is my eldest son Finn," she shot the man a pointed glare before continuing. "Miss Bennett has unfortunately injured herself during a biking expedition. Would you do a great kindness and carry her to the beige and gold sitting room?"

"That's not necessary. I can walk-,"  

"Of course, mother," he said, before turning to approach her. The atmosphere around him crackled. Waves of intoxicating energy seeped from him and tentatively swirled around her, all while taking care not to make contact. The temperature of her body crept north. When he towered over her, he paused, "May I, Miss Bennett?"

"Really, it's not-,"

Without giving her time to finish her sentence, he lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing more than an arm full of feathered pillows. He then swiftly made his way deeper into the mansion. After a few minutes of sprinting, he stopped in front of a set of closed doors. An array of voices drifted to them from inside the room. Finn took a step back to allow Esther to enter ahead of them.

Upon the opening of the door, a wall of highly charged energy slammed into her and lit her the fuck up. Her body temperature sky rocketed and leaped off the damn meter as if she'd been tossed into a hell blaze. Combined magnetic forces pricked at the exposed surface of her skin. She became extremely cognizant of Finn's hard frame firmly pressed against her side. A fantasy of her running her hands over hills of rigid muscles while he stood before her in all his bare ass glory, blasted away her conscious regard for shame. Without out grazing two thoughts together, she began to rub her cheek back and forth over his pec. The growl her actions elicited provoked her nipples to tighten almost to the point of being painful.

"Well, well! Look what the Finn managed to drag in, Bekah," a boy with precision cut sable tresses snarked from his place in one of the armchairs positioned in front of the fire place. He watched her with unblinking chocolate brown eyes that was downright predatory in nature. His calculated serial killer stare should've scared her crapless. Yet, all she could manage to think was...hmm, dessert! "Do say you're intending to share, brother." Finn's hold tightened around her.

"Curb your vile tongue, Kol. Miss Bennett is a guest in our home and you would do well to honor her as such." Esther hissed as she impaled him with a glare that would've made Satan piss his pants.

Guest? She just wanted to use the damn phone.

"Bennett?" A jaw dropping blond bombshell questioned from a satin bronzed sofa.

Finn gently placed her on the opposing loveseat. "Yes, Rebekah. This is Miss Bonnie Bennett." His slightly timid gaze found hers as he positioned a pillow under her ankle. "Miss Bennett, these are my siblings Kol and Rebekah."

Faster than her eyes could track, Rebekah shot from the sofa and reappeared again as she placed Bonnie's ankle in her lap.

"Fucking, fuckery, fuck! Am I having a stroke or did you just imitate a fucking Lambo?" Shit, another twenty for the swear jar.

Rebekah's mouth fell open and a chortle tumbled forth. Finn tsked his expression absolutely scandalized. Esther's eyebrows leaped into her hairline and Kol...wait...where the hell was Kol? Moments later she was lifted from the loveseat cushion and resettled in a hard bulging lap. Cool lips nuzzled the crook of her neck as something steamy floated from a tea cup that hovered in front of her face.

"Sweetness, your wicked terminology enflames me. Curiously, I find myself longing for the affordable affections of an all too willing dockside harlot," Kol whispered next to her ear. "Here, have some tea while it's still warm. It'll do wonders for your injured ankle."

With no further warning, Kol placed the tea cup to her lips and spilled the contents down her throat. To prevent herself from, choking she swallowed the metallic tasting tea. As she drank her thoughts spun the hell out in her head. How the...where the...something was extremely twisted about the Mikaelsons. Strength, beauty, and speed. She felt as if someone had dropped her off in a damn Twilight flick. Had she been one of those drugged out hippy, dippy, students Grams used to invite over for dinner, she'd truly believe herself to be in a house overran with vampires.

"Mother, will you not correct Kol on his forwardness in regards to Miss Bennett," Finn demanded, while attempting to commit visual homicide on his younger brother.

"Kol," Esther spit, her tone warning.

The caretaker appeared in the open doorway of the room. "Lady Mikaelson, Lord Niklaus wishes you attend him on the telephone."

Telephone? That's what the hell she needed!

"Excuse, Miss Bennett. I won't be but a moment," she rose from seat next to a large paned window. "I'll receive the call in my study Hannibal." She sashayed from the room and the door softly clicked closed after her.

"Oh, brother of mine. Celeste has yet to launder our unmentionables." Kol paused to blow a stream of cool air in her ear. The walls of her pop rocker quavered. "Why not preoccupy yourself with sniffing mother's soiled knickers. Your absence will allow Bonnie and me an opportunity to become better acquainted."

After she finished drinking the tea, Kol pushed the cup and saucer into Finn's hands. She opened her mouth to bless him with some more of her, wicked terminology, when she noticed the throbbing in her ankle stopped.

Flexing her ankle back and forth, she side eyed Kol. "What the hell was in that tea?"

"Family recipe," he said with wide guiltless doe eyes. He, however, looked about as innocent as a wolf covered in blood and feathers.

Rebekah snorted as she stroked her now apparently uninjured ankle. The vibrations which pulsed from the tips of her fingers triggered her to squeeze her thighs together to assuage a whole other throbbing. When the youngest Mikaelson licked her painted rosy lips, liquid heat flooded Bonnie's center. What the fuck? When had girls ever done it for her? Not that a boy had ever done it to her, but still. All her crushes over the last few years were geared towards the opposite sex. She'd never thought about a girl in such a way.

Uncomfortable in her own damn skin, Bonnie hopped from Kol's lap to put distance between her and the Mikaelson siblings. "Look, I just needed to use the phone. But since my ankle is-,"

"Brilliant." Rebekah climbed to her feet and grabbed her wrist. She then dragged her towards the door. "You can use the one in my room." When Kol moved to follow, Rebekah speared him with an over the shoulder glare, before saying, "no boys allowed!"

                                      ****

Rebekah covertly watched Bonnie Bennett through her lashes as she painted the tiny witch's toes. Nik's spies in Mystic Falls hadn't exaggerated. She was exquisite. Her smooth bronzed brown skin appeared to be quite edible. The way it stretched uninterrupted over her hills, peaks, valleys, and dips, compelled her tongue to glide back and forth across her bottom lip. She couldn't refrain herself from imagining the lovely dove stripped bare and reclining in the center of her bed with her luxurious chocolate tresses fanned out about her head. Quite the fetching sight she'd make to be sure.

Vanilla, coconuts, and the sensually mouthwatering scent of arousal tempted Rebekah's nostrils. Her core clenched as a hint of a smile flirted with her lips. It pleased her to know the witch struggled with her lust as well. The proof saturated the air with her delectable fragrance. The sweet attar, teasingly baited and ensnared them. Even now Kol stood vigil outside her bedroom door. While Finn had abandoned his perpetual crusade of self-loathing to recite aloud, Napoleon's love letters to Josephine. In verity, they'd all become rather batty for Bonnie.

If the witch caused this big of an uproar in the house of Mikaelson before the manifestation of her powers, they would all be raving lunatics after her quickening.

"What'd you think, Dove? Do you fancy them?" Rebekah questioned, while tightening the top on the nail polish.

The witch's enthralling green eyes slightly narrowed as she peered down at her toes. "Um...they're really red."

Rebekah rolled her eyes as she placed the fingernail polish back on the night stand. "How perceptive of you, Miss Bennett," she said, allowing sarcasm to thread itself through her tone. "Do you have the inclination to inform me on the blondness of my hair as well?"

"Whoa, there's no need to take the leash off the bitch. All I'm saying is-,"

"Hmm..." The witch's sentence skidded to a halt when the blonde original began to massage her shapely calves. "What were you saying, Dove?"

"I..." the little beauty paused to swallow. "Didn't mean to offend you."

"Oh..." she murmured, while she allowed her fingers to inch up Bonnie's jean clad thigh. "Well, I'm relieved. The task of pleasing you is extremely important to me." The heel of her palm connected with the lovely dove's crotch.

A breathy moan crept from the split of the witch's lips. "Rebekah, I'm not into...ahh...ooh..." Bonnie whimpered as the youngest original began to grind her hand into her witch's denim clad mound.

"Shh, Dove," she whispered, while urging the witch to lie back on the pillow-top mattress. "It's just us girls..."

Rebekah moved to straddle Bonnie's lap. She then leaned forward and brushed her mouth against the witch's to gauge how receptive she'd be to a kiss. The Bennett witch's arms slithered around her neck and drew her closer. Once Rebekah's mouth loomed over hers, she lifted her head from the mattress to close the distance. Since her lovely little dove initiated the kiss she allowed the tiny witch to take the lead. However, when it became blatantly apparent she'd never been properly snogged, the original reclaimed control.

With the tip of her tongue, she traced the seam of Bonnie's lips. A moment later the witch opened her mouth and granted her entrance. The sweet taste of her extracted a throaty moan from Rebekah and motivated her lower half to grind into Bonnie's. Pretty soon the witch's hips began to rise from the mattress to meet her wild writhing thrusts. Each of their whimpers and moans climbed in volume until their lips tingled and the press of their joined mouths could no longer suppress the sounds.

[oc-review-shop]

OC Review: Nim

Submitted by: Nimbg

Reviewed by: Mod Charle

I’m back again! I’ve revised Nim’s backstory a little. Sorry if I’m spamming.

Not at all :)

Nim Is a pagan wolf-god hailing from eastern Europe. She was associated with a small tribe that lived south of the Danube. Her worship was at its strongest around 680 A.D. and started fading 864 when Christianity was accepted in her territory. From then on she was mostly remembered by soldiers who invoked her protection when going to battle.

From my memory of World History, I’m pretty sure Christianity was accepted into eastern Europe earlier than 864 A.D. I assume around 300-400 A.D. I could be wrong, but check online to make sure the facts are correct.

In the 11th century was the final nail in her coffin, when The first Bulgarian empire fell under Byzantine rule. At that time not only did she get in trouble with the Christian God but with the old Greek pantheon who still had considerable amount of followers. She was wiped off the face of history. This, however, didn’t mean she died. Reduced to nearly a human Nim continued attempting to help her people in any way she could think of.

How did she get in trouble? Was it her fault or was she played into taking the blame? Expand a little more on how she fell from God status. 

During the rise of the second Bulgarian empire she was getting tired, as much as she loved her people, as much as she missed them worshipping her, without power the task became torturous. This is the time she got most of the scars on her body.

Was she physically wounded in battle, or was it all mental and psychological breakdowns that “impurified” her in a way? Basically, how did she get the scars (literally)?

Finally she gave up when the Ottoman empire marched on the land. She had no power left and couldn’t bare seeing her people forced to accept another religion, so she fled. During the age of paganism she had met many lesser deities and now sought refuge with some of them. She spend the next 650 years wondering Asia. The place was surprisingly hospitable, some of the deities who sheltered her even shared some power.

Nice Gods helping my girl out !!! If Nim was in Asia, however, she would run into the Gods of Confucianism, being it was the biggest religion in most Asian countries during the time (and Buddhism). Due to the large religions already present, I’m not sure the Gods would be so accepting of Nim. Christianity was also in Asia at this time already. Maybe specify the region of Asia in which Nim sought refuge in, just to clarify she wasn’t associated or interacting with the the major religions’ gods.

Nim had received news that Bulgaria was once again liberated, but was too scared to go back. With the turn of the century there was a stir in the world of gods. Apparently after the two world wars and who knows what else, humans had finally done something that caused the Christian God and most of the remaining pagan gods to forsake humanity and go do their own thing. Nim never truly understood what that event was but it was enough motivation for her to return.

This is a MAJOR time skip. We went from the first century all the way to the 20th century in a flash. I would just elaborate a little more on what Nim was doing during this time. Although it may not be totally important or relevant, adding extra information will give readers a better explanation on what Nim’s motives and emotions are.

Back in Christian land the angels were scrambling to maintain the religion but much like the gods of old were failing. The downfall had begun. When she returned Nim found that a lot of people were now atheists, choosing to leave gods behind altogether.

This information would suffice. After the world wars, I would imagine the gods getting irritated with human interaction. However, although atheism has peaked during the modern era, other religions such as Catholicism and Islam really show. But this is an OC and stuff so I think it’s fine if a little bit of history is warped.

However with the advance of science the world had become much more interesting. It was becoming increasingly obvious that things aren’t as they seem, and even the gods didn’t know the complete workings of the world. Nim made herself a quiet life as an officer in reserve while studying biology on the side.

I’m just curious, but why biology? Psychology would be best if Nim were to try to understand why humans became atheists, so why did she decide to study bio?

After about 10 years of this Christianity found her again, this time in the form of the devil king who had gotten bored and had decided to do something similar to her. He had spotted her unique essence and curiosity led him to approache her. He introduced himself as Versebute, turns out he was a descendant of the original Devil. 

I kinda like the way the story is headed, but a timeline would be much appreciated, with specific dates. Nim has been alive so long, a chronological timeline of actions and events would make understanding everything a lot easier.

Versebute had a crystal logged in his chest and when Nim asked what it was he explained that it linked devils to the dark realm letting them ise magic in the human world without the power of human souls or faith. He told her that angelic halos did the same and that while in their respective realm andels used their wings and demons their horns to draw power. And that some gods had also figured out how to do so which led to them losing interest in humanity. So it wasn’t humanity’s fault after all. 

OOooooh I like. It’s getting interesting. Gods are starting to give up on humanity and enjoy themselves. I like.

Nim asked him if it was possible for him to give her a crystal while she figured out how to draw power for herself. The devil agreed on the condition that she accompany him in his quest to “find something interesting because I’m bored”.

And with that, Nim X Versebute has begun.

So he had a collar, that had a crystal pendant, made for her.It was both to honor their agreement and a little joke on the devil’s side because Nim was a “pup”. Said collar became Nim’s most praised possession.The markings on her face, also known as demon markings, appeared after prolonged exposure to the dark realm’s power. Even after so many years it’s still difficult for Nim to live life for herself, she began protecting him and even won herself the title of his personal guard and advisor even though he was strong enough and needed no real protecting.

I like how Nim’s story is going. I honestly think this has the potential to become an actual story thrown into a book, although many critiques and changes need to be made, of course. If you make Versebute and give him a backstory and such, I would LOVE to review him! He already seems like the type of character I like. Great jon on Nim though! You definitely dug deeper into her life this time.

Thanks for reading, and I hope this helps! ☆d(o⌒∇⌒o)b

**All OC credit goes to nimbg

~Mod Charle