#i think that might be the first time arthur makes the active choice to force a loop back

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

first of all obligatory link to the yt video

ok so the first part that really made my brain go DING was when he started comparing the mentality of someone in a timeloop to someone speedrunning a game. which sounds kinda obvious but specifically like, the way your whole brain kinda shuffles around where it places moral importance. like a specific point of comparison is killing the doll in bloodborne speedruns because it's faster to level off her corpse. like, most casual players would never dream of doing that because the value tradeoff is so bad: she's one of the kindest and most reliable characters in the game and betraying/losing that is absolutely not worth a couple extra seconds. but it's not that a speedrunner doesn't care about her at all necessarily, either, it's just that, like, none of this counts. she's just ones and zeroes, plus she's only dead for a couple hours, and then they'll restart and she'll be back and have no knowledge that anything ever happened. so it's literally meaningless.

ALSO also the general point that most timeloop media eventually the protag reaches a point where they just go "fuck it" but very rarely does that "fuck it" stage involve too much harm to anyone other than themselves. but timeloop-based games? or just like. games in general when you replay them enough times. it's almost the opposite: rather than being completely aimless, you become brutally, terrifyingly efficient in pursuit of whatever goal you have your sights on. when you're looping in a game you will do goddamn anything just to tie up your loose ends, sate your curiosity, whatever, because the slate gets wiped clean anyway so why not take the most effective path to get what you want?

and then following after that just generally the idea that the actions you choose to take will continue to affect you even if they get wiped from the rest of the universe. given so much of malev's themes and character arcs rest on essentially the same basis, how much your choices and mistakes stick to you, follow you around, refuse to ever wash off your hands completely. i feel like these two concepts would vibe with each other so so well.

rn i'm thinking, like, every time arthur dies they both loop back to the very start. and. how many go-rounds would it take him to stop trying to save the baby in the woods. to just start shooting eddie the second he shows up. especially the further and further out they get, because they've got so much fucking ground to cover, they've gotta start conserving time somewhere, and besides what's the point of doing things "right" if it's all going to get erased anyway. they'll push this run as far as they can and then come back and do everything correctly. but for now? none of this counts. the only thing that counts is that everything is still stacked against them and they need every advantage they can get.

except. yknow. it sticks. how much does it matter that there's never actually been shards of someone's eyes under your nails, when you can still remember so acutely how it feels. how do you reckon with the sense memory of phantom tortures that never really happened. how do you continue to be human, knowing just what you're capable of forgoing for the sake of efficiency?

ohhhh shit jacob geller timeloop video got me thinking fic thoughts

[oswinsdolma]

Yes, it's nearly 2.00am (because that's apparently the only time I have inspiration to write essays) but I've been thinking a lot about this lately and wanted to get it off my chest, so here you go:

The main goal of Merlin becomes disturbingly fractured along the way, which opens up the gaps for the prophecy to seep through instead of following the expected channels, but it can essentially be boiled down to three key elements 1) build albion; 2) decriminalise magic and 3) save Arthur, but when all is said and done, we never really see any of those objectives achieved.

Now, there are a few reasons for this, both from a writing perspective and a plot perspective. The first, and one of the most obvious, is that this show loves irony. I won't go into a lot of detail here because I've already written a whole ass essay in this very subject, but in a nutshell, you can look at this from two perspectives: firstly, it's important to establish that this technique is purely about the angst: it's the writers' way of provoking a reaction from an anguished audience, but it's foreshadowed just enough to make it more painful than it is shocking. Alternatively, there is the more plot motivated irony in that it genuinely makes a good story. Irony is a technique that has been used for thousands of years, not just because it provokes a reaction from the audience, but because it allows you to explore your characters in greater detail than before, riddling them with hidden juxtapositions and internal conflicts that are never resolved quite in the way you expect. The irony in Merlin is the epitome of this, with the whole motif of Arthur needing to die for his reign to begin. It is a classic example of the simultaneous despair and hope that mocks you from the shadows.

Following this, there is another force at play that deals with half truths and seemingly imperfect contradictions, and that's prophecy. It's not really a secret that I have very strong feelings about prophecy and its effects on all the characters, Merlin in particular, and the fact that fate and destiny are such key themes in Merlin both makes perfect sense and wants me to smash my head into a brick wall. Prophecies are another common trope that often go hand in hand with irony (think Oedipus Rex, Macbeth, The Iliad, all that doomed hero shit that I inexplicably adore), the key to their influence over the plot often lying in how they usually come true in the most unexpected of ways. This links back to that initial theme of irony, but this isn't what makes me angry: what is infuriating is that prophecies tend to come true, no matter what, and most of the characters seem not only to know this, but to let it take their autonomy over their respective fates, driving them to disaster.

Let me elaborate: especially in season five (I'm assuming just for the added fall at the end), Merlin talks a lot about how "one day, things will be different". He tells sorcerers that one day they won't have to hide. That one day, they won't have to live in fear of who they are and what others think of them. And Merlin is right: while it is not explicitly stated, it's generally established that this is one of the things Merlin should actively be working towards. But here's the kick: except for a few specific circumstances, when has Merlin ever actively tried to change Arthur's mind about magic? Yes, he has taken a few opportunities, like with Dragoon saving Uther's life, or with the Dolma's final request, where he has encouraged Arthur to rethink his choices, but otherwise, his support has been lukewarm at best. Instead, his primary concern was always saving Arthur, so he can become the king the magical world hoped he'd be, but he left out a crucial part, trusting in the prophecy to fill in the gaps. He knew it would come true, but it was, almost predictably, in the one way he never dared to expect.

And in a twisted way, there's that thread of irony again: Merlin thought he was saving Arthur so he could one day become the king who would see magic as a force for good, but instead, he created someone who was merely a survivor. It was Kilgharrah who said it first, and he who would mention it last: they are two sides of the same coin. But as willing as Merlin was to give his life for Arthur, and vice versa, he was never really ready to give him his mind.

Another interesting thing to note is Merlin's fixation on the "Saving Arthur" lens of the prophecy over the "Restoring Magic" part. Now, there are a ton of ways you can look at this, depending on how far along the scale of Queer Analysis you are, so I'm going to try and address a couple. At one end of the scale, you have the fairly simple and very believable "merthur" take. This basically boils down to the fact that Merlin and Arthur may or may not be deeply in love with one another, and that drowns out any voice of reason that may unfold. This is actually fairly canon compliant, particularly looking at incidents such as the Disir, when Merlin chooses Arthur over his and his people's freedom, though that choice was clearly, in hindsight, misadvised.

At the other end of the spectrum, there is the idea that it is the work of Kilgharrah, Gaius and other responsible figures in Merlin's life when he was new to his role in destiny, who reiterated at every occasion that Arthur must be protected at all costs. This may have ingrained into Merlin's thoughts and influenced his decisions from here on out.

Between those two points, there is a grey area, and I am of the personal opinion that neither extreme entirely satisfies the situation. For me, I think the characters in question are far too complex to have such simple motivations, and that the true reason lies somewhere between the two: Merlin undoubtedly cares for Arthur, and while at the start, his actions in protacting Arthur may have been driven by other (largely superficial) motives, over time, their mutual affection blossomed to the point where certainly the more personal quests were motivated not by need, but by love. However, there is a divide here, and while the line in the sand smudges from time to time, it never really disappears: a lot of instances in which Merlin is trying to help Arthur are entirely overshadowed by destiny, and in time, Merlin comes to accept that Arthur and Destiny are, in fact, one and the same, and this is where that ever-present tragedy lies. For all he truth in here, Merlin doesn't get everything quite right: he sees Arthur as a balance that needs to be protected, without fully realising that he doesn't just have to keep the sides of his equation in equilibrium, but he actually has to start solving them if he wants them to endure.

Having just said all that, sometimes I decide to fuck over complexity for a few hours purely because I am a shameless merthur hoe.

Also, can you take a moment to please note that this last section is highly subjective and it is completely up to you as to what you decide!! This is just my opinion and you're welcome to agree or disagree at any point.

So, aside from the Angst Factor™ and twisted character development, why was the main goal never fulfilled? Unfortunately, that is a question far cleverer people than me can only speculate, as the writers alone know the answers, but I'm going to give my opinion a shot. Honestly, there is something beautifullly poetic about something that never ends, or ends when there could be something more. Humanity has struggled with endings-and beginnings- since it learned truly how to think, because that kind of finality, that inkling that there might have been nothing before and after something else is incomprehensible. In leaving Merlin in a place where the next point was uncertain, the writers left the story open for us. In depriving us of that catharsis, they effectively made sure that the story would never be over, not until we want it to be. And yes, it was painful. I can't think of an ending that was more heartbreaking than that curious mixture of closures and openings all at the same time (hell, I could write a whole essay based on this concept alone!), but it was also a gift, ironically like that of the prophecy itself in that we can choose what we want to do with it, safe in the knowledge that there will be a happy ending again, one day.

In summary, we might not be left with catharsis in the way we wanted. We might not have got the happy ending that could also have stretched on and on indefinitely. But we were left with something else, something equally beautiful as closure, but in the complete opposite way. Amongst the remains of allwe had hoped to build, Merlin left us hope.

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 40)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5, Lewis POV 7

Part 41: here

. 

VIVI POV

It is weird visiting the Pepper’s Diner without Lewis. Vivi has never been the friend with the car so Lewis or Arthur had always picked her up whenever she visited, meaning she’s never been here without at least one of them present.

Now, Vivi stands in the empty car park, trying not to look at the spot on which Arthur had been shot and Lewis had almost bled out. The memories of trying to frantically to help them both while knowing she would only have time to save one come unbidden, crowding at the forefront of her mind. She swallows, trying to shake the image and focus on locating Arthur’s van instead. Even as she scans the empty lot, her thoughts turn away from the task and back to that night.

Lewis had told her to help Arthur. Those had been his last words to her.

Vivi had already been in the process of helping Arthur so it was logical for her to continue.

Arthur was the less injured of the two, so had a better chance of survival.

Arthur was the rational choice.

If her dad hadn’t arrived when he did, then Lewis might have died, blood slowly spreading across the concrete, staining it red. If Mystery hadn’t done whatever weird supernatural thing he’d done to slow their blood loss...she doesn't want to think about it. 

/The rain has washed away any remaining scent. We will have to do a visual search./

Vivi blinks and there is no blood, no Arthur, no Lewis. There is only the silent structure of Pepper Paradiso, windows dark and lifeless. She rubs her hands together to rid them of the sudden chill creeping through her limbs, before folding then under Lewis’s borrowed jacked and hugging her chest.

“Ye…” She takes a shaky breath, “Yeah. I figured. The van can’t have been parked too far away though. It would have been pretty hard to walk around all these rocks and cactus in the pitch black even with a lightning storm overhead.”

/ A reasonable assumption. / Mystery is eyeing with something akin to worry, head tilted to one side.

She ignores him, walking past to scan for any sign of the van. Unlike that night, the sky is clear with a half-moon just peeking above the horizon, casting a faint grey light over the flat landscape. A gentle breeze tugs gently at her hair. The body snatcher wouldn’t have come from the westward side of the diner because she’d been looking out that way at the time, talking on the phone with her dad. Surely, she would have noticed its approach between all the lightning strikes.

“You head that way…maybe thirty feet or so. We’re going to search in a grid around the diner,” She points out to the main road adjacent to the diner, tracing it in the air with a finger to what she thinks is thirty feet, “We’ll work our way out from the road, moving in opposite directions away from the diner. Let me know when you find it.”

Mystery nods a confirmation but doesn’t move off immediately, opting to instead watch her with increasing concern. Vivi deliberately turns away from him, moving out from the building and off the concrete, picking her way across the uneven landscape, pulling out her phone for additional light.  Eventually, she hears the click of Mystery’s claws as he begins his search, jumping from rock to rock and disappearing amongst the low desert shrubs. Vivi lets her shoulders slump, all the stress and activity of the past few days finally catching up to her, weighing on her.  She shakes herself and pulls the jacket tight. With her phone’s dim flashlight barely providing enough light to see her own feet, it’s hard to avoid tripping over rocks and dips in the ground. It may look flat, but the desert is full of indents and holes. On the bright side, the rough terrain meant the van was probably closer to the road because there was no way anyone could drive very far across this. 

If the van is even out here at all. 

Doubt curls in her gut. 

What if she’d wrong about this too?

Across the darkened landscape the moon finally makes it fully over the horizon line. A new chill descends as the last of the day’s heat evaporates into the night. Vivi persists, continuing until the diner has faded into an outline. Nothing jumps out at her as being strange. It’s just empty in all directions.

/I have found it./

When Mystery finally calls an end to the search Vivi’s eyes are hurting with the strain of squinting.

“Where?”

Mystery’s telepathic projections don’t have a huge range so he must be nearby. She turns, twisting around to scan the darkness. A flash of white fur catches the moonlight. Mystery nimbly leaps over an outcropping of cactus in her direction, pausing to motion with a paw back the way he’d come.

/This way./

They make their way slowly back in the direction of the highway before turning to walk parallel to the road. A car flashes by, momentarily blinding her and she stops to blink away the bright splotches which briefly overtake her vision. The walk feels doubly long with how tied she’s becoming. 

Finally, Mystery turns back into the desert, following a sloping incline downward into a ditch where she spots a familiar orange rectangle. No wonder no one had found the van yet. Unless you were searching specifically for it, it would be almost impossible to see from either the diner or the highway.

Vivi exhales a long, hard breath of pure relief, hurrying to overtake Mystery.

Slowly, she circles the van, stretching up to shine her phone-light through the front window and into the shadowed interior. The seats of the van appear normal. There is an empty fast food bag and it looks like someone has tipped the glove compartment onto the ground. She peers further in, noting that their camping gear is no longer in neat piles but messy and scattered about. Nothing stands out as human-body shaped. She steps away.

“No dead bodies,” She tells Mystery, watching him finish his own circuit of the van, sniffing, eyes narrow.

/I smell blood. Quite a bit of it. The stench of that abomination is also strong./

“You can smell the body snatcher? Wouldn’t it just smell like Arthur?” Vivi questions even as she begins trying all the van’s doors in the hope that one is unlocked.

/These creatures are unnatural and they always leave behind aberrations. I suppose ‘smell’ is the wrong word. It would be more akin to recognising energy residue. Most spiritual energy does not originate from the physical plane. Thus, it always leaves behind some sort of stain./

Vivi rubs her forehead. She has questions. Of course, she has questions. Anytime Mystery says anything related to the supernatural she is left with only questions. Vivi files the information away for future contemplation, distracted when the van’s back doors open unexpectedly.

Both her and Mystery pause and glance at each other. 

Cautiously, she pulls it fully open and peers in. The first thing she notes is Arthur’s keyring, sitting discarded atop a mess of upturned boxes and camping gear. It looks like it had been tossed aside without thought or care. Arthur always took good care of the van’s keys, carrying them on him at all times, so it immediately strikes her as odd. But then, it isn’t only Arthur that they're dealing with.

“Weird,” She mutters, reaching to pick them up.

/Do not touch that./

She freezes, hand hovering. Mystery leaps up into the van, knocking over an open container of cooking utensils which rattle out onto the rocks, clanking off the hard surface. He sniffs the keys, huffing with disgust.

/It is covered in blood. It has a similar scent to that car. Also, I fear I smell Lance’s blood here as well…/ Mystery flicks the keys with his nose so they clatter to the ground at her feet, turning to clamber around the van, snuffling as he goes.

“Lance’s blood…” Vivi repeats, stomach sinking. There’s a lot of dirt -which probably isn’t dirt- covering the pocket knife Arthur has attached to his keys. Blood.

/Hmmm…this does not appear promising./ Mystery pops out of the van again, holding a piece of cloth in his teeth. He jumps free and drops the fabric onto the ground next to the keyring. She bends to pick it up, pinching a corner so she can lift it without touching anything. It’s one of Arthur’s shirts, apricot in colour, and splattered with darkened brown stains. More blood. She thinks she recognises the shirt as the one he had been wearing at the motel.  

/Whoever this second individual is, their smell is all over the van./

Vivi frowns, clenching her fist. “Do you think they’re dead?”

/Most likely./

“…Shit…”

She tosses the shirt back into the van, bending to pick up the keyring, carefully detaching the keys before throwing the pocketknife after the shirt. She slams the doors, breathing heavily, hands resting on the metal. She rides out a sudden wave of nausea threatening her merger lunch. So there had been a third person involved. Probably, this person was someone Arthur knew. Arthur had most likely been an unwilling accessory to the murder of someone he knew. That's not counting being forced to attack his uncle. Poor Arthur. She can’t even imagine what it must have been like. If only she’d got to him faster. If only she’d gone out to help him after Arthur’s fight with Lewis back at the motel. If she’d been with him that morning then she could have stopped him from running off to check his uncle all alone. Instead,  she’d decided to stay and console Lewis first. The wrong decision. She’d failed them both.

/Arthur would not have been able to stop this violence. These parasitic creatures are masters of all forms of manipulation./

“I’m not…I wouldn’t blame Arthur. Never,” She hisses.  Herself on the other hand….

/Neither is it your fault./ Mystery continues as if reading her mind /You could not have known. I should have been the one to act. I suspected foul play long before it was confirmed./

“You’re the family pet. I’m his best friend. I should have done something sooner.” Her voice sounds uncharacteristically hash even to her own ears. She ignores how Mystery grimaces.

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter now. I need to get rid of this evidence or Arthur’s going to get caught up in whatever ongoing investigation spawns when the police realise that whoever owned that other car is missing.” She still doesn’t know who this person is, and she doesn’t particularly care. Arthur would care probably. She didn’t.  Whether they were an employee of Kingsman Mechanics, a friend of Lance’s, some Tempo resident, it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was keeping Arthur as safe as possible with what little ability she had and if that meant destroying evidence then so be it.

She takes a breath, energised now she’s sure of her next move.

“We can’t leave the van here. Luckily, no one’s found it yet but we can’t count on that to continue.” As she speaks, she walks back around to the front seat, key in hand. Mystery follows. “There’s a ton of evidence here. Blood splatters, hair fibres, fingerprints. That’s not including Arthur’s pocketknife as a possible murder weapon.”

/You plan to hide the van./

“No. Not good enough. I don’t want this to come back and bite us later.”

She’s done making bad choices. Vivi starts up the engine and the van jerks rattling like it needs some proper maintenance. Arthur would have never let it get into such a state. She ignores the pang of guilt, driving recklessly over the rocks, dirt and sand and back onto the road. For what she has planned, the van wouldn’t need to be in any sort of drivable condition for much longer

“We’ll burn it,” She elaborates once they are back on the highway.  “That way, even if it is found, no one will be able to tie it to any missing person case resulting from that thing controlling Arthur. In theory anyway...”

She knows a place that is secluded enough that she would probably be able to get away with setting the van on fire and not draw a ton of attention. A place where she could leave it and not have it immediately discovered. Somewhere that wasn’t so far away meaning it would be possible for her to walk back to the diner with Mystery after she was done.

“Can you cast an illusion big enough to hide the flames?” She is sure she’s acting overly paranoid now but better safe than sorry. Though secluded, the area she’s thinking of is still in view of the road.

/I will have to transform to expand my illusion's range./

“Right.” Vivi glances at Mystery who’s taken his usual position beside her in the front. The concern is still creasing his expression and she quickly refocuses on the road. The last time she had seen Mystery’s kitsune form had been that night. Not a pleasant memory. The sight of Mystery looming over Lewis, all teeth and raw natural fury, glowing bright against an almost black backdrop, had been a constant in the recent spate of nightmares which had spawned from the event. Not that she had slept enough to have many nightmares.

The rest of the trip is silent and, in-between bouts of nervous energy, Vivi can almost pretend she is back with Arthur and Lewis, checking out some new local ghost sighting, laughing and joking. It is a short-lived reprieve as she is quickly turning into the small clearing, sandwiched between rock formations and overlooking a three-meter drop into a small ravine. Supposedly, the area was haunted by some disgruntled cattle rustler, run afoul of the law, chased into the ravine during ye-oldie times.  She feels silly thinking back on how serious she’d taken that investigation. 

“Was any of this stuff anywhere near real?” She asks, driving the van as close the edge as possible.

/ I believe most occurrences of the supernatural, as humans understand it, are merely echoes of past interference./  Mystery scans the cliffs, /If there was any otherworldly influence here, it has long faded./

“I guess that makes sense.” She mutters, distracted as she eyes the vegetation around her. It is sparse, so she doesn’t think it’ll be much of a fire hazard.

“You’ll be able to stop this from spreading and starting any other fires, right?”

Mystery hums to himself and begins to glow. Particles of light cling to his coat like dust motes, fading into the air around him. Unlike that night, the transformation is smooth, air shimmering and flowing over his physical form like water as he expanded to take up more space. Five tails fan out, splitting away from each other, opening like the petals of a flower before swaying languidly from side to side in an almost hypnotic pattern. 

/In this form I can stifle the flames if they become too much or contain the fire within a barrier./

Her breath catches and she nods stiffly, barely hearing him, too focused on how Mystery’s eyes flash bright red when he speaks. Bright, brilliant, red. Her hesitation is spotted and Mystery lowers head and tails, making himself smaller.

/I frighten you?/

Maybe it’s the lack of life-threatening conditions but Mystery's presence is not as dominating as it had been that night. There is less force behind his voice. Less raw anger. Even his tails seam to sag like they are taking on too much weight.

/I am sorr…/

“Save it…” She interrupts what was sure to be another in a long line of empty apologies, “Just… stand a bit over there, okay.”

Mystery seems to deflate further, wilting like a dying plant wanting for rain. The anxiety in her chest loosens ever so slightly.

With only the slightest hint of further hesitation, she begins riffling through the van's camping gear, pulling out a small jerrycan of fuel and dumping it out over the vehicle's interior. Next, she’s digging around for the fire starters and any spare lighter fluid to increase flammability. Out comes the blue zippo lighter with cool snowflake patterning.  She holds it indecisively, flipping it open. The small flame dances, bright in the night-time. Funnily, this will be the first time she uses this lighter. First and last.

This was it. Goodbye van. The van that had been a feature of her friendship with Arthur and Lewis for almost as long as she’d known them.

"Sorry Arthur.”  Another apology for the collection.  

She throws the lighter through the van’s open back doors. The fuel catches and flames spring up, spreading quickly. Soon, long tongues of fire are licking at the windows. A series of small cracks appear in the glass, spiderwebbing out. The heat is intense and she backs away so as not to accidentally burn herself. Sounds of snapping and popping echo in the ravine, the noise trapped by the rocks and cliffs.  Vivi watches the interior of the van blacken, metal reddening and warping. Dark smoke twists upward and disappears into the night.

.

Note: An update in honour of the new MSA: Future :) Enjoy!

Part 41: here

[rwby-grimm-guardians]

RWBY Grimm Guardians Arc 4: Re-Bonding In Mistral Ch 6 (Part I)

Welcome back to Re-Bonding In Mistral! This is chapter 6, which is the same as  chapter 5, only in the RWY, SQ, and JNPR + O POV. Raven’s POV is also featured.

For those of you wondering, this chapter takes place during Volume 5’s episodes 7-9 and the beginning of episode 11.

Like the last chapter, this is semi-original.

As such, this’ll be long. Also, due to shit going on, this might be a weak addition, so I’m sorry if it’s not that good.

As usual, please give constructive criticism and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

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(In a forest in Mistral...)

“Raven!”

The tribe leader perked up from her thoughts, turning to face Vernal peeking through the curtains. “We have guests… Salem’s...” The young woman said. The Spring Maiden sighed, rubbing her eyes. This was NOT what she was hoping...but now the two had to play their part. “If they ask for a maiden, you know what to do.” The red clad woman said, placing Summer’s cloak on the bed and putting on her helmet. “We planned for this after all.”

Vernal nodded as the tribe leader walked outside, noticing Cinder, Mercury, Emerald, and Watts. She also noticed the bandits surrounding them. “I don't recall inviting so many guests into our home.” Raven started with a smirk. “Either I'm losing my memory…” She then growled, raising her voice in anger, “Or you've all lost your DAMN spines!” Chuckling darkly, Cinder raised her human hand, “Don’t be too upset with them, Raven. They merely recognized the power of a Maiden.”

After a few moments of silence, the tribe leader ordered, “Leave us and pack your things. We’re moving.” The bandits, excluding Vernal, nodded and split up. Raven then looked at Salem’s followers, “I don’t believe we’ve met. Even though I know about your ‘godly’ master.” Mercury went to open his mouth, only to be silenced by the tribe leader as she said, “And I doubt anyone would fear you… Especially given your cowardly stunt at the tournament and Beacon.”

“Why you old fuc-!” The gray clad follower almost shouted, only to shut up again as Cinder’s eye glowed. “Knock. It. Off.” She growled at him. “Or do you WANT to get CHARRED?”

Mercury froze, before backing up, his face pale and in fright. “That’s what I thought. Good child.” Raven said, grinning as she saw the terrified look in the gray haired brat’s eyes. “Now, your names?”

“Cinder Fall.” The Fall Maiden said. “My associate, Arthur Watts and my disciples, Emerald and Mercury.” The tribe leader nodded, “Two children you've tricked into following you, a disgraced Atlesian scientist…” She then looked at Cinder in the eye, “And a Fall Maiden with a surname so appropriate, she probably picked it herself. You certainly seem to have a case of egomania, is that about right?”

“I was also a doctor, to be fair.” Watts said, before nodding. “Though everything else was on point.” Raven hummed with amusement, “You flatter me. Though…I’m sure you’re after the Spring Maiden. Correct?” Cinder nodded with a grin, before the tribe leader looked to Vernal. The young woman nodded, before playing her part. While Raven used her Maiden powers, Vernal choreographed movements, successfully making the four believe that the young woman was the Spring Maiden.

“Now then…” Raven said. “Now that you got your proof, what is it you’re REALLY after?”

As Cinder grinned, Raven knew damn well that whatever these brats were planning in Salem’s will, she’d have to follow along for the time being.

For her family’s sake. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (Meanwhile...)

“Okay, so...what else do we need to be filled in on?” Yang asked. Weiss and Willow nodded, with the heiress saying, “We’d like to know too. Even though we talked virtually, there...seems to be something more complex going on.”

The group had gone back to Mistral, planning on warning Haven about Salem’s threat. They were hoping they could, at least, PREVENT further harm and loss of life. However, Summer, Evergreen, Qrow, Willow, and Ember KNEW that was a very heavy gamble...and were prepared for the possible oncoming battle. Ruby, Yang, and Weiss could tell that going to Haven could dictate a LOT of dangerous possibilities...and would have to look to the former STRQ leader, Qrow, and Evergreen for guidance.

Even though it was just vague, Summer had made it clear that she knew of Salem’s capabilities.

Speaking of the former STRQ leader, ever since returning from her night with Raven, she...hadn’t been in the happiest of moods. It was clear that the tallest of the group was trying to force herself to seem happy...or indifferent at the very least.

But every now and then, cracks in her behavior began to show.

No one dared to comment on them, thankfully. Qrow and Evergreen obviously knew the pain she was going through, as did Ember. Yang and Ruby knew as well...and were pretty certain the rest of the group had begun putting the pieces together too.

Though questions about that, if anyone dared had any, could wait. There was a bigger matter to discuss.

At the moment, only Qrow was absent from the room, as he was attempting to notify the academy about their arrival.

Ruby sighed, “It’s...a lot.” “To summarize what’s new, we need to stop Salem, the typical evil witch, from causing more harm.” She said. “Yes, magic exists...or still does. She wants the Maidens for her plan.” Willow nodded, “Sounds simple enough.” “Agreed, but one question. You mean to tell us that that fairytale is real?” Yang asked.

The group nodded, before Summer said, “Look at me, Yang.” Said blonde did so...only to meet her stepmom’s emotionless and tired expression. Yang’s eyes went wide, before sighing, “Mom’s one...isn’t she?” The former STRQ leader nodded, “The Spring one...and not by choice.”

“Cinder’s the Fall Maiden...which she stole.” Pyrrha explained. “Another reason why she attacked Beacon.” Yang clenched her fists, before growling, “That bitch...” Everyone nodded in agreement, with Pyrrha saying, “I feel like it’s my fault. I was given the choice to be the next Maiden…” “But I turned it down…” The red head explained, her expression saddening.

Jaune and Evergreen looked at her, shocked, with the JNPR leader saying, “Pyrrha, we had NO idea that this would happen.” Ruby nodded in agreement, “Even though Mom and I knew of Cinder’s criminal activities, there were too many unknowns…” “Not to mention it was extremely difficult to question or stop her anyway.” Summer added. She then turned to Evergreen, “I’m sure you or someone you know may have some info that could be useful?”

The silver haired man sighed, “Me, no. But I do know someone.” “Would you like to speak up, Ozma?” The former headmaster asked, looking at Oscar. “The kids need answers, even the one you’re currently occupying.” Everyone froze, before turning to the youngest of the group in shock and confusion.

Willow and Ember noticed that Summer remained expressionless…

They assumed that she had known for a bit of time...and figured Qrow knew as well.

Oscar sighed, raising a finger, before flicking his head. “Be kind and introduce yourself…” He said. “Please.” A few moments passed, before a new voice emerged from the boy’s lips, “Greetings…” The new voice did not seem happy about being revealed. Everyone turned to the former headmaster, who said, “This is Ozma. A….former acquaintance of Salem’s.” “Former?” Summer raised an eyebrow. After a few moments, her jaw nearly dropped, “Do NOT fucking tell me…”

Ozma raised Oscar’s hand, using the boy’s face to show his embarrassment and hesitance. “I’m her….ex...or widow, technically.” The immortal said. “That story will have to wait, though. Now, your questions?” “Firstly, how are you even alive…!?” Yang asked. Ozma sighed, tapping Oscar’s forehead, “I’m...cursed, by the God of Light, with immortality. Much like Salem is…”

“So, you got magic too? Like a wizard or mage of some sort?” Ruby asked. Ozma nodded, “Indeed. However, it is dwindling…” “What…?” Evergreen asked. “How…!?” The immortal sighed, “I do not know, currently…” “Maybe because I shared some of it…” He guessed. “I shared a large amount of it with four young women who would eventually become the first Maidens.” Willow tilted her head, “And the Branwen twins? You shared with them too?”

The immortal nodded, “Yes, but only a small fraction. Qrow will tell you that they made their choice, but…” He then trailed off, going silent for a few moments, before saying, “I don’t know if that’s true…” The immortal then looked at Oscar’s arms, before sighing, “This is probably stupid to ask you…” “Will you help me stop Salem from taking more lives? From taking more families?” He asked. “If you don’t, I understand. Really, I do. You...all deserve much better than this life....”

“Why?” Summer asked, drawing attention towards her. “Why are you giving us a choice?” Her tone was frighteningly serious, enhanced further by the glare she gave the immortal. Ozma lowered Oscar’s head, before Evergreen said, “It’s because of Oscar… Isn’t it?” The immortal sighed, “He’s a CHILD…as are all of YOU. I’d be destroying another family...again.”

“Just like I unintentionally did all those millennia ago.” He mumbled. “I...think I might be just as bad as Salem…”

After a few moments of tense silence, Summer looked at Jaune, Ren, Nora, and Pyrrha, before shifting to Weiss, Willow, and Ember, and then finally at her own daughters. Closing her eyes, she forced a sigh, before saying, “Fine. We’ll do it.” “But if you keep more secrets...or if those I love dearly nearly die...I’m calling it quits.” She said. “Clear?”

Ozma nodded Oscar’s head, “Yes, ma’am.” The former STRQ leader then looked at Evergreen, before sighing, “Good. In that case, I’ll let Qrow know.”

With that, she left the room, before Oscar was given back control. After noticing everyone’s shocked expressions, he asked, “Did...something happen?” The group sighed with relief that the youngest of the group was back with them, before Evergreen said, “I’ll...fill you in about it later.” “It’s a bit much…” He explained. The farm boy nodded, noticeably feeling a little awkward.

Weiss, noticeably a little frightened by Summer’s threat, whispered to Yang and Ruby, “What...the fuck was that…?” The red cloaked leader cleared her throat, before rubbing the back of her neck, “Let’s just...say that she’s VERY protective over who and what she cares about...and leave it at that.” “She’ll open up and share the full story when she remembers and feels comfortable.” Yang added. “Besides, I’m sure any person who loves their family that much would do the same…”

Weiss slowly nodded, dropping the topic, since she KNEW Yang was right. More importantly though...after how awkward that conversation was...it would be WISE to avoid that kind of topic in the future.

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

Please continue to Part 2 here:

[essays-for-breakfast]

Lancelot of the Lake - Chapter One

As hinted at, this creature now finally sees the light of day. Don’t I love my ability to pick the most ambitious concepts for my stories. Further chapters will most likely go directly to my ao3 account here. I don’t want to spam you.

Day One: The Lake

Lancelot sold himself to the devil three times. Evil took on different forms when it stretched out its hand and so did the contracts he signed. Once a word of consent, once a slash, and once a promise. He would later fail to tell where he had missed a crossroad or where he could have taken a different turn. Only one path stretched ahead of him. Other stories will tell of his prowess and his heroic deeds, but few dare to reveal how he acquired his strength. When Lancelot stepped into the rain outside his home, his choice was made, and he took up the pen to sign and seal his fate.

“Hey Master, be careful. You see I wanna —”

The rest of Lancelot’s words remained unspoken as a sound, loud as a roaring thunder, and a flash of light startled him. His heart missed a beat, and he needed to shield his eyes from the brightness. But Jericho’s hand held onto his, and the warmth and familiarity of her battle-hardened skin gave him the necessary strength to make another step forward without seeing the way. If he wanted to attain the same strength as his father, he couldn’t lose it over noise and a little light show.

So instead of listening to the instincts of a child, Lancelot pressed onward until the white disappeared, and the world took on a new form.

Some higher might had replaced the rainy hills outside of Benwick with the coast of a vast lake. Its surface shimmered under an unnatural sun, but not a single wave rippled the water. Everything was still. No birds sung, no buzzing of Fairy wings sounded through the trees, even Lancelot’s breaths seemed to disappear in the great silence of this place.

“Woah, this must be an entirely different realm,” Jericho said. “I bet the people who vanished, including that merchant from yesterday, were all sent to this place through these gateways in the rain. That explains why no one can get a trace on them.”

“But what good does it do to have all these folks here? And where are they?” Lancelot asked. “I can’t hear them.”

His gaze skipped from left to right, in search for something that wasn’t there. The lake and its surroundings emitted quietness to the point where the air stiffened under the load. Criminal scums might be hiding out of sight in preparation for an ambush. What did Jericho always say about combat against multiple foes? Use their numbers against them. When they don’t coordinate their attacks, you can control the flow of battle to only face one opponent at a time.

Right. Lancelot had his spear with him, and he and Master would take on any lowly criminal without breaking a sweat. His father definitely wouldn’t break a sweat.

They moved along the shore for some time, always in anticipation of an attack. Lancelot’s fingers, wrapped around the shaft of his makeshift spear, cramped, and he reminded himself to ease his grip. A desperate grip only leads to an untimely loss as Jericho liked to lecture him. So he kept his hands relaxed and his eyes open as he scanned the shore to his left and the sparse undergrowth to his right for enemy signs. Nothing. If other humans or Fairies had visited this lake, they had left behind an annoyingly small number of trails. But Lancelot nevertheless placed one step after the other and continued the search. He and Jericho had come this far, farther than any of King Meliodas’ or King Arthur’s attempts at tracking down the missing humans, and to turn back now would equal a colossal disgrace. Adults didn’t run from a challenge.

Quick, come here…

The unnatural sun with its pale light refused to move across the sky, and without clouds to disrupt the monotony, Lancelot soon lost his sense of time. His stomach growled, and Jericho sent him an empathetic smile that failed to reach her eyes. She navigated through the scree banks with great care to avoid unnecessary noise, and her weapon remained unsheathed.

Time ran through Lancelot’s hands like water, and Benwick moved further and further away. He contemplated a look back, but never followed through on the idea. Nothing lay behind them but the shore of the lake. Only the way forward mattered, after all, he had a mission to fulfill.

After who-knew-how-long, Lancelot and Jericho stumbled into the first sign to confirm they hadn’t been treading on the same spot. And the first sign of human activity.

“You think that the people who were send here before us built this boat, Master?”

“I’m not sure. It looks too old. And too unsafe if you ask me.” Jericho tapped the rotten plank of the boat’s side with her boot, and a moan that inspired little trust escaped the belly of the wooden construct. “Maybe we should go back…”

Here. Come here.

Lancelot turned his head. The lake glistened in the sun. Harmless. But not without secrets. He had heard the same voice before, its whispered promises had rung in his ears when he had woken from his dream and when he had approached the gate in the rain. A constant tugging in his gut pulled him towards the lake and its depths.

Here…

“We can’t give up now!” he said. “I bet the boat can bring us to where we need to go.”

Jericho’s heart overflowed with doubt. Her internal screams to flee echoed through Lancelot’s head, and he pinched his arm to get his heart-reading ability to stop. With little success. “And where would that be?”

“The center of the lake. I’m sure of it.”

Based on sight alone, nothing suggested that anything awaited them in the middle of the lake, where the water ran deepest and the creatures below the surface held the most power. But Lancelot needed to go there. The call originated from the lake, and if anyone knew the answers to this place or the series of disappearances, the voice would.

Jericho gnawed at her lip. She seemed oblivious to the voice, and if she felt a fraction of the pull urging Lancelot towards the lake, she battled its force with blind vehemence. “But you have to stay behind me at all times.”

“That’s not fair! I can fight!”

“You can stay back and let me do the fighting should we run into trouble. Ban will end me if I let anything happen to you.”

Lancelot kicked a stone with enough force to propel the innocent victim of his outburst fifty yards across the lake until it went under. What did all his training matter if Jericho didn’t let him put his experience to use? She would still sit in Benwick without him, she had no reason to treat him like a child in need of protection. Could she not see the progress he had made over the past five years?

“Hey, Lance, look at me.” The softness in Jericho’s voice compelled Lancelot to face her instead of his feet. “When I was your age, I wanted to grow up as quickly as possible too. But because I didn’t stop to think, I ran headfirst into trouble after trouble. I was insufferable. And I needed others to drag me out of the mess I got myself into. It’s okay to rely on others for a change, no matter how old you are. And last time I checked, I got a master title to boast with while you don’t, so my word is your law.”

With a grin to undermine the seriousness of her tone, she helped him shove the boat from the shore into shallow water where it whipped up and down without a sound. Lancelot jumped into the boat with an excess of energy and leaned from left to right to increase the rocking until he nearly capsized. He had never ridden a boat before; in Benwick, no one saw the use in such a mode of transportation when one could fly to the other side of any river in a fraction of the time a boat would take. And Lancelot, as one of the few exceptions to the rule, had stayed away from bodies of water deeper than he was tall. In this regard, Elaine knew no mercy.

But his mother wasn’t here to lecture him, and Jericho had to admit that Lancelot could row the boat across the lake faster than she could.

After a few failed attempts during which Lancelot rowed in the opposite direction of where he wanted to go, he found a rhythm with the paddle and steered the boat at an urgent but even pace. A childish grin almost found its way onto his lips before he thought better of himself. Jericho stood at the front of the boat, hunched forward and with her left hand clawed into the railing. The other hand held onto her sword.

Then, from one moment to the next, the vast view of the lake and the outskirts of forests and mountain ridges disappeared. In their stead, a thick mist hung over the lake, heavy with foreboding, empty of sound. White fingers slithered past Jericho’s boots and reached for Lancelot’s face. He fastened the collar of his tunic. The head of his spear collected drops of condensed water, and the hairs on his arms stood up on edge.

“This can’t be normal, not even in a realm as cursed as this,” Jericho said. “I can’t see a thing in this pea soup.”

A jolt went through the boat, and Lancelot’s teeth smacked against one another. He paddled water in this and that direction, but the boat remained stuck with such a defiance that not even his advanced strength made a difference. When he risked a look over the railing, Lancelot stared into water so dark, its surface didn’t reflect the sky or his face. Shadows twisted down there, ghosts and memories of days long gone. Who knew how deep the well went.

“If we’ve run aground, that better means there’s land we can stand on.” With a look towards Lancelot, Jericho added, “Stay here.”

And with a hearty jump, she abandoned the safety of the boat. The water sloshed around her knees, and after a moment of panicked unbalance, she found her footing on the muddy ground below the surface. She helped Lancelot out of the boat, but when his feet touched the water, the contact drove all air out of his lungs. A feeling, both warm and cold, flooded him, a sense of insignificance next to a power far greater than his own. When he had first met the Seven Deadly Sins, their combined magic forces had rendered him speechless, but this lake outclassed them by a tenfold. Something far more ancient and formidable resided in these depths. The lake lured him with a language he did not understand, words he could not make out, but the sound rung like music and absolute cacophony in his head, pure and impure at the same time.

Jericho eyed him from the side, and Lancelot tore his gaze away from the water. But his mind could not forget what his eyes refused to look at.

Hand in hand, they advanced to where the boat had hesitated to take them. Blades of reed rocked in and out of view past the wafts of mist, but no wind brushed across the lake to move them. When they reached a gentle incline, Lancelot’s feet reemerged out of the black water, and he allowed himself a sigh, despite the risk of appearing weak in front of Jericho.

And as the shores lay behind them, the mist retreated and revealed stone buildings scattered on the island in the middle of the lake. Half-decayed castles, infected with moss, cast their shadows over them, towers sprouted from the ground without sense or logic, and archways that defied gravity stretched to the sky. The structures seemed to have grown rather than stem from the hands of human architects. One gust of wind could send everything tumbling down.

Lancelot increased his grip around Jericho’s hand, and she offered an encouraging squeeze.

Here, Lancelot, heeereee…

The path they followed through the ruins took a sharp turn and ended in a rotunda of gravel a handful of steps later. And at the end of the way, at the center of the island, the lake, and this world as a whole stood a creature ripped out of the foulest depths of Purgatory.

Their mere presence put a pressure on his skull that made Lancelot sick as their fingers clawed at the door to his thoughts with endless screeching and shrieking. The shape of the creature suggested a female, but she was neither human nor Fairy, nor a member of any of the other clans. Like a shadow she wavered in the air, untouchable but a physical part of this world nonetheless, able to shape her surroundings to her will and capable of merging with their darkness. Her hair and black dress curled around her figure like snakes with their own mind, like hands eager to grab what the depths of the creature’s heart desired. If evil had a face, it could only look like the featureless depths of the shadow’s head.

Lancelot forced his muscles to move, recalled his training, and flung his spear at the figure. In the same instance, Jericho sent forward shards of ice with her magical ability, but none of the projectiles hit their target. The creature’s darkness swallowed them all, and, as if she had tasted a delicious slice of meat pie, her uncounted hands reached out in ecstasy.

A sound escaped the shadow as she began to laugh. “Two fighters for the price of one. My master is truly generous today.”

“Did you kidnap all the humans who disappeared across Britannia?” Next to the shadow’s voice, Lancelot sounded small and powerless, even in his own head.

Jericho tried to shift in front of him, but he stepped past her. He needed to show strength, be an adult, then the creature would have to answer his questions and solve the case. And then surely his father would praise him, right?

“All that happens is in accordance to the will of Chaos,” the shadow replied. “He has brought you to me, my dear. Where else his plan may lead you remains to be seen.”

Despite Lancelot’s protests, Jericho shoved him behind her back and faced the shadow. “I don’t know what hell you crept out of, but you won’t lay a finger on him!”

“Oh.” The shadow chuckled, a low, disgusting sound that reverberated in Lancelot’s gut. “And you intend to protect him?”

“I made a promise to the man I love and respect the most. I don’t plan to let him down.”

A battery of ice shards appeared out of thin air behind Jericho, each of them the size of a human arm and sharp enough to pierce steel. The cold air bit into the skin of Lancelot’s face. And in the same instance the shards shot forward, Jericho charged at the shadow.

Lancelot had seen her fight in training before, but never with killing intent, and the precision with which she wielded both sword and magic ability disabled him from doing anything other than gape. The entire time she trained him, she had withheld her true skill. He could only hope to learn a fraction of her abilities.

While the shadow let her hands deal with the frontal attack, Jericho conjured a new set of shards behind the creature. Forced to split her attention, the shadow disposed of the second wave the same way she had the first, but the diversion bought Jericho the time she needed to close the gap. She hacked through the wavering ropes faster than the hands could grab her, spinning, turning, dashing out of the path of retaliatory attacks, always one step ahead of the enemy.

Lancelot scanned his surroundings for a weapon, but aside from a collection of stones, nothing caught his eye. But before he could lunge for a sharpened rock, and before Jericho could reach the shadow, one of the hands coiled around her right wrist and twisted flesh and bone. Jericho muffled a scream, and her sword dropped to the ground with a sharp clang. The fear in her heart overflowed, the regret, the agony, the face of a young man she called brother.

Lancelot forgot the stone and dashed forward to tackle the shadow barehanded. The ropes caught him before he managed more than a few steps. His muscles protested as he tugged at his restraints, but his above human strength struggled against the hands to no avail.

The shadow moved closer until its faceless head hovered inches away from Jericho. More ropes wrapped themselves around her limps and neck, and the greedy hands caressed her skin. Ban’s arrogant smirk flashed in her memory, his drunk smile, his sorrowful stare into the middle distance, and the better life he had opened for her, a chance to find everything she dreamed of except for the one adoration she failed to let go. Jericho’s hazy eyes found Lancelot’s.

And then, the shadow swallowed her whole.

“MASTER!”

With every ounce of strength left in him, Lancelot tore free of the shadow’s grip, dove for a roll, and returned to his feet with Jericho’s sword in hand. He tensed his fingers to stop them from shaking, and in a blind charge, he closed in on the shadow. She would pay, she had to atone for this, nothing else mattered as long as she died.

If she took notice of his efforts, she made no move to counter them. Instead, her hands stood still and tasted the air. The fragments of Jericho’s memory whirled through Lancelot’s head. With one jump he was above the shadow and aimed for her neck.

But instead of flesh, his blade tasted air as the shadow recoiled into the earth. Nothing remained of her other than the aching at the back of his head.

Dazed and shell-shocked, Lancelot dropped to his knees where the shadow had hovered. His nails dug into the dirt.

He had failed. Jericho was gone. The sound of her heart, a blizzard of emotions, sometimes loud, more often controlled – snapped away. He had insisted to investigate the disappearance of the humans, but instead of a lead, he had found an enemy capable of crushing him with no more than the turn of a hand. Jericho had trusted his instincts, she had followed him into the rain and to the center of the lake, and for this the shadow had eaten her. While Lancelot had stood aside, unable to change the outcome of the fight, unable to help or even avenge her. The small stones hidden within the crumps of dirt cut into his palms. Hot tears streamed down his face.

What a lousy prince he was.

The shadow reemerged and blocked the pale sunlight until her darkness absorbed Lancelot’s small silhouette.

“So much light,” she said, “and so much darkness. So full of contradicting emotions…”

Lancelot aimed a last weak swing at the enemy that never met its target.

“What are you?” he asked between two pathetic sobs.

The shadow placed a hand on his cheek. His mother did the same whenever she comforted him after an unsuccessful training session.

“You, Lancelot, can call me Lady of the Lake.”

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Could you do 5: “ Why do you hate me? ” with Arthur and his crush because I live to suffer

Oh my God, how many weeks ago were these requests sent in? Well, here it is! For once, it turned out shorter than I imagined! 

Request sheet here

Read all my works here on AO3

You finish cleaning the last of the laundry for the day. It’s nearly sunset and the tips of your fingers have been rubbed raw from the washboard, but you ignore the slight burn. Your hands have been getting tougher the last few weeks, calluses developing on your once soft skin. Your entire body is growing firmer living here with this wild bunch. 

You’ve been with the gang just a little over a month now and your life couldn’t be more different. You spent most of your life with your parents until they both died years ago in a drowning accident near the banks of Blackwater. Since you weren’t quite an adult yet, you were sent to live with your uncle. He was a pastor for the local church, but he was as far from Godly as he could be. 

For the next few years, your life with your uncle was horrible. Your uncle, despite his preaching to be good, clean people, he constantly got drunk and beat you. There were a few times he even touched you inappropriately, and when you tried fighting back he’d beat you even harder. He dragged you to church every Sunday and you’d have to sit through his sermons and hear the hypocrisy spill from his mouth. How you hated hearing him tell everyone else to be kind and patient, to give charitably, to avoid excessive drinking and to be as much like Christ as they could be. How dare he say those things when he was doing such terrible things to you behind closed doors? 

When you got to be older, you tried many times to leave, to run away, but he seemed to have a sense of when you’d try and break out. It got to the point he started chaining you to your bed at night, and sometimes left you there for days, bringing you just enough food to stay alive. When people mentioned your absence, he’d wave them off by saying you were visiting a cousin and would return shortly. He also brushed away any visible marks he left on you by stating you were a wild child, falling from horses and running through the brush, but that he wouldn’t try to curb your active nature. 

Finally it all got to be too much, the beatings, the rape, the lies. The hungry nights chained to a bed. One night at the table, he started getting drunk and you could see the telling signs he was preparing to attack you. You armed yourself with a large knife and when he rushed you, you shoved it into his throat and killed him. It was only a day or two before people discovered him, but you’d already fled town. Everyone knew it was you and you heard rumors they wanted to hang you for killing the preacher. 

A week after killing your uncle, you were in desperate need of help as you knew nothing of living outdoors and on your own. You had no food or any kind of shelter. All you had was your horse and a few sparse supplies. You didn’t even have a gun. 

You went to Blackwater, where no one was looking for you. You became a street beggar, but with little success, so you started pick-pocketing people when you could risk it. One day, you picked the pocket of a tall man with black hair and a thick mustache. He caught on quick and dragged you down an alleyway where he was met by another man, thin and grey-haired. 

You thought these two men would shoot you, and for a moment they seemed to think they might. Then they surprised you by suggesting you come with them, join their gang of outlaws. You took their offering. 

Not long after you joined, the Blackwater heist fell apart, forcing you and everyone else to flee and leaving a couple of the others scattered or dead. A young girl close to your age named Jenny was killed and another man named Mac was shot. He died on the way to a frozen town named Colter. 

Now, here in Horseshoe Overlook, you and the others are settling in. You’ve become quite close with most of the others. You work with the other three girls, Karen, Mary-Beth and Tilly. They welcomed you with curiosity and friendship. They helped teach you how to survive in this gang, how to pull your weight to keep an old crone named Grimshaw from getting after you. 

When you first arrived, you were horribly afraid of a man named Swanson as he was a drunken reverend. It didn’t take long though to realize that he was completely harmless and he never showed interest in attacking anyone. In fact, he was more prone to hurt himself instead of any of the others. He was a man of God who’d just fallen on hard times. 

You get along with pretty much everyone, and most of them seem to like you. Or at least they’ve accepted you. There is one exception though: a man named Arthur Morgan doesn’t seem to like you at all. He’s pretty much ignored you this whole time and he only spoke with you once when you first arrived. He did nothing but ask your name and your story and when you finished telling him, he wandered off and said nothing more. 

A few times, Dutch and Hosea, the patriarchs of the gang, have suggested to the other girls that you go with them and learn how to do some proper robbing. Whenever Arthur heard though, he’d come over and tell them you were the worst choice to go out and do any work like that, you simply couldn’t handle it. 

There’s been other instances where Arthur seemed to think you were too weak to handle yourself. Sure, you grew up in a luxurious life, but you were willing to learn. Arthur just didn’t want to let you for some reason. In fact, he seemed to think you didn’t belong here. You wondered many times why he disliked you so much. It unsettled you a bit how you often found him staring at you, and when you looked at him, he’d look away. The other girls said that Arthur had an extremely tough exterior but he possessed a good, soft heart. They could always depend on him to protect them when they needed it. You just couldn’t see how that could be. 

Grimshaw comes over and tells you to stop working, that the day’s chores are done and to get yourself some dinner. You go over to Pearson’s wagon and scoop yourself some of his stew onto a plate. Most days, this is what Pearson makes, but on occasion, he’ll mix it up with some cornbread or fresh vegetables. Of course, he always has cans of food and other provisions available at his wagon. You take a can of peaches before heading to the round table to eat. 

Just as you’ve sat down and begun eating, Arthur walks over and sits down across from you. You don’t know why he does since he clearly doesn’t like you. He’s done this a number of times, sitting near you at the fire or coming to listen when you’re chatting with the others. He never says anything and you can’t read what he’s thinking from his face. You swallow heavily and debate on whether or not to leave. After all, he’s a high-ranking member of the gang, directly underneath Dutch and Hosea. You’re just some dumb newbie compared to him. But you decide to stay, not wanting to seem rude and give him a reason to like you even less. 

The two of you sit at the table and eat, not speaking. He glances up at you every so often, making you feel incredibly small and pathetic. As you finish your meal, Pearson walks over. 

“Arthur, can you go to Valentine tomorrow? I need some supplies picked up from the store.” 

“Sure,” Arthur says and Pearson hands him a list. 

“Oh, and can you stop at the post office too?” 

Arthur nods and looks at the list. “Guess I’ll need to take someone along. Quite a list, Mr. Pearson.” 

Pearson looks at you and points in your direction. “Take Y/N here. Sure she can handle it just fine.” 

“No,” Arthur says, returning to his plate of stew. “No, she needs to stay here. Stay where the others can keep an eye on her.” 

Your heart sinks. You’d been hoping you could go to town, you’ve been cooped up here for weeks. You’re tired of seeing the same trees, the same people. Pearson sighs. “Just take her, Mr. Morgan. What’s the worst that can happen on a shopping trip?” 

Arthur throws him a look as if to say Pearson didn’t know how dangerous a shopping trip could be, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “Fine. Y/N, I’ll be leaving early. Be ready.” 

“Yes sir,” you say quietly. 

He throws you a curious glance but then he gets up and takes his empty plate over to the wash barrel. He doesn’t say anything or even look at you the rest of the night. You know he’s only taking you because Pearson twisted his arm. 

In the morning, you get ready as soon as the sun is up, but Arthur doesn’t even stir from his cot until the sun’s well up. Even then, he doesn’t leave immediately. He gets himself some coffee, chops some wood and then has a quick discussion with Dutch. You stay ready to go at any moment though, not wanting to give him a reason to get angry with you. 

Finally, Arthur calls you. “Let’s go,” he says. You rush over and climb into the wagon. He sits down next to you and you stiffen up. He lights a cigarette and then grabs the reins. 

“Know anythin’ ‘bout drivin’ wagons?” he asks. 

“A little,” you say. “My dad taught me the basics when I was young.” 

He hands you the reins and you drive the wagon to Valentine. Nothing happens on the way there, but you’re happy to see the little, muddy town. Other people mill about, most looking like ranchers and farmers. You drive the wagon down the main street and stop near the stables, not too far from the store. 

Arthur hops down without a word and throws the butt of his cigarette into the mud. He hands you Pearson’s list. “I’m gonna go check the post office,” he says and walks off. 

You go into the store and hand the clerk the list. He snaps at a shopboy who begins piling items into a box. You help him carry the boxes out to the wagon and start sliding them into the back. Arthur comes back after a short period, his hands empty. Post office must not have had anything. 

When the shopboy’s done loading up the wagon, you both climb up into it. You’re about to grab the reins but Arthur takes them and whips the horses into a steady trot. You wait for him to say something during the trip, but he doesn’t. He seems tense, anxious. You are, too. Why does he dislike you so much? Sure, you’re extremely inexperienced, but he won’t give you the chance to go out and learn. It’s not that you’re unwilling, you’ve even begged Dutch and Hosea a few times, but Arthur wins them out, pointing out that something is surely to go wrong. 

When you get back to camp, you start unloading the wagon when Bill and Lenny come up to you. 

“Y/N, you ever rob a stage before?” Bill says. 

“I’ve barely robbed anything before,” you say. 

“She’s perfect for the job!” Lenny says with a smile. He explains that the stage he and Bill want to rob will have drivers that are heavily suspicious of being robbed. They want you to go and stop the stage and pretend to be lost. Since you have no experience robbing, you’re the most innocent person in camp. 

“It’ll be easy,” Lenny finishes. 

“Just make sure you get into cover as quick as you can if they start shootin’,” Bill adds. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Arthur says, attracted by Lenny’s excitement. Lenny tells him the plan and Arthur lowers his brow. “Absolutely not. You ain’t takin’ her nowhere. She’s gonna stay in camp, work with the girls.” 

“But she’s perfect, Arthur!” Lenny pleads. “You’ve robbed this company before, you know how quick they are to draw fire.” 

“Exactly my point! She don’t know nothin’ about robbin’, ya ain’t takin’ her!” Arthur says. 

“Mr. Morgan!” you say sharply. “I want to help! People keep asking me to help with jobs and you won’t let me! Dutch and Grimshaw are always saying that everyone needs to earn my keep, now let me do my part!” 

“You ain’t goin’ and that’s final!” he snarls. You hold your ground. Arthur turns to Bill and Lenny and orders them to get someone else. When they turn away, muttering, you glare at Arthur. 

“Can I talk to you? Alone?” you ask. 

He sighs. “Fine.” 

You lead him into the trees and then round on him as soon as you’re out of shot from camp. 

“What is your problem with me?” you demand. 

“I ain’t got a problem-” 

“Yes you do, Mr. Morgan! Ever since I showed up, you haven’t liked me for even a second. The others want to teach me how to do work and I want to learn, but you always get in my way! I can learn, I’m a fast learner. I know I don’t know much now but that’ll change.” 

“You ain’t goin’ robbin’, Y/N. You ain’t right for the job!” he says. 

You stand there for a second, your anger rising. This man has done nothing except make your life even more difficult than it is, given the situation. You can see now he’s arrogant and prideful, and he doesn’t want you taking a share of the profits. 

“Why do you hate me?” you demand of him. 

“What?” he says, clearly taken off guard. 

“I said why do you hate me?” 

“I don’t hate-”

“Bullshit, don’t lie to me, Mr. Morgan! You haven’t liked me from the start. I don’t know what I said or did to piss you off, but you’re being an ass! All the other girls keep telling me I’ll see that you’re a nice guy, but you’ve done nothing to prove them right!” 

He sighs, his mouth in a tight frown. He looks down, his eyes hidden beneath the brim of his hat. “I don’t hate ya, Y/N. Farthest thing from it, actually.” His voice is soft and rough. 

“Then why are you doing this?” You put your hands on your hips. 

“Because I… I’m afraid for ya. You’ve been hurt a lot by that awful uncle, I just want ya safe.” 

This is the last thing you expected. Safe? Why would he care for your safety? Then you begin recalling all the arguments you’ve heard him have with the others when it came to you going out and working. He’s always mentioned that something could go wrong and you might get hurt, but not that you’d be the one causing it to go wrong. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve come off coarse,” he continues. “It’s just I… when I first met ya I…. I just wanted to… just wanted to protect ya.” 

He rubs the back of his neck. You take a step back from him, confused still. 

“Protect me? But you seem to be unhappy that I’m here.” 

“I’m not. Y/N, I don’t dislike ya. Maybe that’s the problem. I…. I really like ya. Been wantin’ to talk to ya for weeks, just didn’t know what to say.” 

“You say hello. You ask me my favorite color, for God’s sake, Arthur!” you say a little more harshly than you meant to. Is he being serious? Has he been so stern about you doing work because he wants you safe because he has a crush on you? That can’t be right. You’re a nobody and he’s, well, he’s Arthur Morgan! When you first saw him, you noted how tall and broad he was, and how lovely his eyes were. 

“I know. I been doin’ this all wrong,” Arthur says. “I just didn’t think you’d want to talk to me, big ugly bastard that I am.” 

You frown at him a bit. Those are the last words you’d use to describe him. “You always assume things when you meet someone new?” you ask quietly. “Don’t you?” he says. “I’m real sorry I came off that way, Y/N. Do you mind if maybe we start over? Try to get off on the right foot?” 

You sigh. “Sure, Arthur.” 

He smiles and it brightens up his face. “Thank ya. By the way, what is your favorite color?”

[strangeratthewindow]

Arianne Week Day 7: Free Choice

Here’s my meager contribution for Arianne Week. It’s written in Arianne’s POV and is part of a story I have planned set in my American Civil War ISOT ‘verse, just after Robert’s Rebellion. It alludes to plot points and stories that have been written (or are still WIPs) but remain unpublished. And it also features quite a few OCs.

Since I know that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, it’ll be left under the cut for those of you who are still curious.

It’s also a first draft, so I hope you’ll be merciful.

ARIANNE I

Arianne hated reading.

It was not that she failed to understand the importance of the activity as a whole. Rather, it was that she found the books that the maester had deemed important for her lessons to be unbearably dull. “The lessons in these ‘dusty old tomes’, as you so eloquently put it, will service you well once you inherit your father’s seat.” Maester Caleotte had said. But she could only tolerate the grim, unrelenting march of history for so long.

As far as she was concerned, it was the people who wrote the histories that were lacking. Daeron’s Conquest, the uprising of the first Vulture King, the court of Myriah, all histories that were chalk full to the brim with romance, adventure, intrigue, and passion. And yet, they were written as if they were no more exciting than a trip to the marketplace.

“Arianne, you must pay attention.” Maester Caleotte had scolded.

But her attention had drifted off back to the stories, only this time told through her imagination. Her mind produced images of Nymeria’s conquest of the Yronwood Royals, of Rhaenys and Meraxes burning a swath through Dorne until they fell in the skies above Hellholt, of Ser Duncan the Tall and his squire Prince Aegon’s adventures through her country.

She even fantasized about her auntie’s rescue from King’s Landing. She still remembered hearing the story from her father. How the American officer, Hal Celliers, had defied the orders of his commanders and the rebel lords and rescued her aunt Elia and her children, all as a promise to his love and Elia’s friend, the Lady Ashara Dayne. How after his chastisement from his superiors, he was berated and knighted by the Usurper himself and was finally suitable in status to ask for the hand of Lady Ashara. And how after their betrothal, he was appointed by Lord Alaric as the castellan of the new city he had founded beneath Starfall, Stillhaven, and thus was known throughout Dorne and all Westeros by the name his people had called him: the Azure Angel.

It was all terribly romantic and the thought of it managed to swell Arianne’s heart every time.

She cherished the book that the Major Celliers had given her for her last nameday. It was a collection of stories from his world translated into the Common Tongue, all about kings and queens and knights and princesses from his world. The Legends of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table, her book was called. It was as large as the histories she was forced to read, but endlessly more interesting.

This was the excitement that she craved from reading.

Arianne had found that the Americans were very generous in their stories. She knew that they would have to have some boring books as well. After all – every country seemed to have too much history. But in their stories, they seemed more wondrous than anything that was available in Westeros.

And when her parents had told her one day that they would be receiving ambassadors from that far-away land, she almost leapt from her seat in joy.

She wanted to know everything about these new people from the world beyond Rickard’s Gate.

When the maester announced that their lessons were finished, she all but rushed out the door, her two cousins laughing and trailing behind.

“Slow down, Ari!” Tyene called to her, her golden hair billowing as she ran.

“I can’t! The new guests are coming today!” She called back.

It was a miracle that she didn’t run into any of the servants as they went about their routines. Entering her room, she quickly washed her face, and put on the clothes that her mama had lain out for her. The red and orange silks felt cool against her skin, as she dressed herself. Looking in the mirror, she couldn’t help but frown at what she saw.

The redspots she had contracted last year had mostly gone away, but they left scarring on her skin that did little to flatter her appearance. She had never given much thought about her appearance until she had gotten the redspots. But ever since, it was like a veil was lifted and she was never comfortable with how she looked ever since. In the mirror, she saw a fat and ugly girl as opposed to the beauties that her cousins had been.

Of course, Obara, Nymeria, and Tyene never considered her as such, but she knew the truth. She would pray to the Seven each day and night to make her beautiful.

Would the Yankees think the same? She had thought, her excitement dwindling slightly.

“They would be foolish to think as such.” Her mother had told her when Arianne asked.

Her mama’s answer made her feel somewhat better, but she still held concerns. She knew that the Americans cared not about the difference between noble and commoner, but she didn’t know if the same held true for the beautiful and ugly.

The thought of such an end made her grateful that the clothes her mama had chosen for her had concealed her baby fat. The last thing she needed was for their new guests to think she was pudgy.

From her room in the Sun Tower, she could see the wheelhouse carrying their new guests approaching, accompanied by riders under two banners. One showing a golden spear piercing a red sun on an orange field, and the other – a roundel of white stars on a field of blue leading out to alternating red and white stripes. She could hear the cheers of the people from high atop in her rooms, each one praising her father and the Americans.

They’re here!

Tying up her hair, she walked out to the courtroom with her septa and made her way to the courtroom where the rest of the household had assembled. Seeing Tyene and Nymeria already there added some nerves to her excitement. They looked far more beautiful than she, but Arianne would not let her envy get to her. She was a Princess of Dorne and heir to the Sunspear.

I will not let them see me falter.

The last of the Threefold Gates were opened, the adulations of the people of the Shadow City echoing from outside, and in came the yellow-clad honor guard for her father’s men followed closely by the blue-coated honor guard of their new guests.

She stared in awe at the blue-coated soldiers. Everything about them seemed like they came out of the pages of a song. Their brass buttons and high boots along with their fabled magic staves seemed to hide a hundred wondrous stories from their world.

The doors of the wheelhouse opening, she saw her father step out followed closely by her mother. And from behind them, an old, balding man in a grey coat and a skirt? It was a queer choice, but she would not judge the man yet. He at least appeared to be somewhat nice, for he didn’t seem to stop smiling since he exited the wheelhouse. Although that could have been explained by who followed him.

From behind the man, he saw two young boys. They both seemed a little older than her and Tyene, perhaps closer to Nym’s age. The one in the straw hat seemed just as shocked as the older man, his eyes wide and his mouth in an O – shape. The other boy, with the woolen cap, seemed to be a bit sterner, his eyes no less curious though. And it was to be expected. She remembered her father telling her that there were no castles in America.

Guiding the three forward to their household, her father was greeted by her uncle, Ser Manfrey.

“My prince.” Her uncle greeted with a bow.

“Manfrey,” Her father acknowledged in return. “These are our guests, all the way from the United States.”

Stepping forward, her father introduced the three. “This is Minister Montgomery Munro, his son Michael, and nephew Concord.”

“It’s an honor, my lord.” Her uncle bowed. “Ser Manfrey Martell, I am the castellan of Sunspear.”

“Och, none of this ‘my lord’ nonsense, good ser.” He waived his response out with an air of casualness. “Just ‘Minister’ is enough. And might I say, ser, you’ve done a bloody good job at keeping this place together.”

“My thanks, Minister.” Her uncle nodded with a smile, as he shook the man’s hand.

“And this is my daughter, Arianne.” Her father introduced her.

“My aren’t you a pretty one.” He said in his strange, foreign accent. It was enough to make her blush. She didn’t often receive such complements from strangers. “Aye, the boys will definitely take to you.”

He turned to the two boys who were looking straight at her now. “Well, lads? Where’s ye’re manners? Aren’t ye gaun tae say hello?”

The one with the straw hat – Michael – stepped forward and grabbed her hand, placing a kiss on it. “Hello, my princess.”

His smile was something else, and she could feel herself grow more flushed as he looked at her. His eyes were a light blue, bluer than even Tyene’s, and his hair was a series of dark brown waves. To her mind, the boy was definitely pretty. He looked as if he held something of a mischievous streak.

The one with the wool cap – Concord – followed close behind and did the same, only his expression was more nervous. “Greetings, my princess.”

His smile was subtle, but there. She couldn’t seem to read him, his face keeping that serious stern look that reminded her so often of her father. His eyes were an odd blue-gray that seemed almost supernatural in his presence, and his hair was a strong reddish-auburn color. But what caught her attention was the odd rash on his face. It seemed to cover most of his right eye, going down to his lower cheek. She would feel bad to admit as such, but it made her feel better about the scarring on her cheeks that the redspots had left.

Overall, she regarded both boys as quite attractive.

After the proper introductions were held, she asked her mother if she and her cousins could show the two young boys around the castle.

“Ari, I’m sure Michael and Concord will be quite tired from their journey and would like to take some time to recover.”

“My love, perhaps we should ask the boys what they want to do?” Her father had proffered.

“Oh, alright. Minister?” Her mother’s gaze shifted to the bald man who only turned to the boys.

“What say you, lads?”

“We wanna go! We wanna explore the castle! Right Concord?” He asked his cousin.

A simple nod, with a small smile was enough of a response from him to satisfy the grown-ups.

“Oh, alright then. You may show them the keep, but just remember to be back before dinner.”

Her face broke out into a huge smile as she turned to Tyene and Nym who held the same bright smiles on their faces. “Thank you! Thank you!”

And with out hesitation, she grabbed one of the boy’s hands, while her cousins each grabbed the other boy’s hands and sped off to show them Sunspear. She could only just hear the minister’s laugh at her and her cousins’ antics as they dragged the two boys off to show them around the keep.

Gods, what will we show them first? The Sandship? The Golden Arches? Maybe we can take them to the Sun Tower so they can see the thrones!

“Ari! Where are we going?” Tyene asked, still tugging Michael along.

“We’re going to show them the Twin Thrones!” She answered back, as they entered the stairwell that would lead them there.

The commotion they caused would’ve earned her a scolding from her septa, but she figured she could take the risk just this once. Besides, she was a Princess of Dorne. She was allowed certain liberties.

The trek up the Tower of the Sun, is filled with questions from the boys, rather one boy.

“How far up is it?”

“Why is it called the Sun Tower?”

“Who is Nymeria?”

“How come she left the Rhoyne?”

“Did she really conquer all of Dorne?”

Michael’s excitement was infectious. From the bottom of the stairs, up until they reached the door to the main hall, he asked endless questions about Dorne and its history. Arianne and her cousins were only happy to oblige. But the other boy, Concord, remained silent throughout their ascent. Right up until he asked, “Why did Nymeria burn all ten thousand of her ships?”

The suddenness of the question was enough to make Arianne pause. Didn’t I already tell him why?

“Because she wanted to send a message to the world that her people had found their new home.”

“I know that, but why did she burn all ten thousand of her ships?”

It was a strange question to ask, and one she didn’t entirely understand.

“What do you mean?”

“A ship is very useful but costs a lot of money.” He started, still staring up at the golden sun motifs. “If Nymeria was planning to help Mors Martell conquer the rest of Dorne, wouldn’t it have been more useful for her to keep some of those ships around?”

Arianne frowned at Concord’s question. Of course, she had heard the stories about the Rhoynar Exodus and how Nymeria brought the petty kings of Dorne to heel, but she never wondered about this. After all, who would care so much about ships?

“Oh, don’t mind him.” Michael interrupted. “Connie’s always asking about boats and ships and sailing. He wants to be a pirate when he’s all grown up.”

“I do not.” Concord shot back, scowling at his cousin’s teasing.

“Yeah, you do.” Michael said, crossing his arms in that way she would often see her uncle do. “On the trip here, you wouldn’t stop talking to the other sailors. You even wanted to climb up the lookout’s nest too.”

Nymeria and Tyene laughed freely as they watched the two cousins bickering, as if they hadn’t shared the same kind of arguments with her. It was only when Arianne realized that their eyes were on her rather than the American boys that she realized. Looking down, she noted that she was still holding Concord’s hand.

Thankfully neither boy had noticed the fact, nor did they see how flushed Arianne’s cheeks had become. Rolling her eyes at her cousins’ amused smiles, she pushed the doors open and led the group into the Hall of the Twin Thrones.

She watched in amusement as the two boys gawked at the high seats of Dorne. To the left, the Sun Throne, emblazoned with a copper edifice of the Rhoynar sun. And to the right, the Spear Throne, carved in gold with the emblem of the spear of Martell. Both were a sight to behold to any who visited Sunspear.

“Wow!” Michael exclaimed, as he ran ahead of the others. “I’ve never seen a throne before.”

“They’re beautiful.” Concord said, plainly.

Arianne couldn’t help but smile in victory. She was worried that the American boys wouldn’t be impressed with her family’s keep, but their words and awestruck faces soothed her concerns.

“Can we sit on them?” Michael asked.

Her smile turned into a smirk as she huffed and answered, “Not without my permission.”

“You would be wise to gain the favor of the princess before asking for such things.” Tyene supplied, giggling at her cousin’s answer. “She will rule Dorne one day.”

Before the boys could speak, she walked over to the Sun Throne with the same regal poise that she had seen her mother do, and promptly sat down. “You may sit down on the Spear Throne, Michael. That is if you agree to be my consort.”

“Consort? Is that like a prince?”

“In a way,” Nymeria answered, “but you would not rule Dorne. You would have to answer to Ari.”

“Never mind, then.” Michael replied, his disappointment clear. “I wanted to be a prince.”

Arianne’s unladylike huff brought out more laughter from her cousins, and whilst she knew that it was all just pretend and play, a part of her couldn’t help but feel angered that another boy wouldn’t want to have to answer to her.

“What about you Connie?” Tyene asked, using the newly revealed nickname. “Would you like to sit on the Spear Throne?”

“Or do you not want to submit to a girl?” Nymeria teased, her smirk prodding at the older boy.

“May I?” Concord asked, looking straight in Arianne’s eyes.

“If you do not object to only being consort.” She tested, a single brow arched and ready to deal with any defiance.

“I don’t mind. Besides, I’d rather not be a prince.” Concord answered plainly, stepping forward and sitting down on the throne.

Whatever answer she expected, it certainly wasn’t that. Her cousins also appeared to be of the same mind if their shocked expressions conveyed anything. Michael seemed unsurprised by his cousin’s answer, but then they seemed close enough as family where one could correctly guess the actions of the other.

“Strange.” She remarked as she looked over to him. “I had thought all boys would want nothing more than to be a dashing prince.”

“Not me,” He answered absently as he set his hands on the armrests. “I don’t think I’d like that kind of life.”

For a brief moment, she recalled something of interest that her father once told her. He had said that the Americans’ realm had no nobility of any kind, and that they choose their leaders from the people. She was curious and wanted to press him further but was hesitant. So, she chose instead to ask, “So, your cousin is correct? You’d rather be a pirate?”

“Not a pirate.”

“A sailor, then?” She ventured.

“No, I – ”

“Oh, don’t lie Connie.” Michael interrupted. “It’s not proper to do so to a princess.”

Concord only rolled his eyes at him, as Nymeria and Tyene ran up to her and asked her if they could show them the hidden chambers in the Sandship. Arianne conceded, the two grabbing Michael’s hand once more, and running back into the maze of halls. Looking back over to Concord, she noted how shy he had become, left alone in the throne room with no one but her.

His blushing face was a comfort to Arianne.

It gave her enough confidence to ask, “There are no kings in America, right? Or queens?”

“That’s right.”

“Or princes and princesses?”

By his crestfallen look, a stranger to their conversation would have assumed that he had said the insulting words and nor her.

“I’m not offended.” She explained with a giggle, “I just…”

“Just…?”

“I just wanted to know what it’s like living in a place like that.”

Concord paused for a moment as he scratched his red hair, himself looking quite unsure about the question.

“If I had to say, it’s for sure a lot less exciting than Dorne.”

Arianne gave a barking laugh, the kind of unladylike laugh that would’ve gotten her chastised by her mother and septa. She didn’t think much of the red headed boy at first, but she had to admit that he would certainly prove to be interesting. Sliding off the copper colored throne, she reached her hand out to Concord.

“Will you be my escort then, seeing as you’re my loyal consort?”

With a soft smile, he slid off the throne and bowed fancily, removing his hat in respect. ��My princess, it would be an honor.”

“You can call me Ari, if you’d like.” She smiled, as he took her hand. “But only if I can call you Connie.”

“Oh, fine.” He muttered. “But only because you asked.”

“I did not ask. I commanded, as is my right as a Princess of Dorne.” Arianne replied. “But I will ask this: what were you going to say earlier before your cousin interrupted?”

“Oh?” He paused briefly, recalling the moment. “Oh! I was going to say that I didn’t want to be just a sailor. I want to be a captain of my own ship.”

Arianne couldn’t help but laugh at the boy’s nautical interests, not that she found them to be foolish. Rather, she was amused that he would rather be content to rule over a floating hunk of hammered wood than a whole kingdom.

“Well, then.” She started, looking up straight into his eyes. “We should make haste to the Sandship! Our cousins will already be there, and there is no better place in Dorne to learn the art of captaining.”

“Very well, my pri – …Ari.”

“You learn fast... Connie.”

Hand in hand, they ran off through the halls of the castle.

I guess he’s not so bad.

[tammyhybrid21]

Sara Deserves Better

It's six in the morning, and I am mad!

Mad because of a small thing admittedly, but you want a sum up?

I'm mad because I hyped myself up to write a MSA/Tadeo Jones crossover oneshot that would basically be Vivi being excited to meet an actual living Mummy, with other things, but the majority... and then started thinking beyond that small scope of fun and just-- got frustrated.

Because here's the thing... I made a post about Vivi and her glasses, and then started thinking about the crew in Tadeo Jones and--

Like here's the deal, my brain... just... completely forgot Sara has glasses. I remembered Tiffany's glasses. I remembered the PHOTO with glasses-- but the first ten minutes of Sara's screen time being spent with her in glasses? NAH--

Sooo that's not actually what this post is about. Just a small annoyance with myself. So what is this post about-- well the obvious is look at the title, Sara Deserves Better.

Also, not just shipping wise... but mainly shipping wise, because GOD DAMN IT. Let Sara break free of the Love Interest box PLEASE. Because for crying out loud, it's been two movies and this is one of the most painful flaws I can see. Also-- just as an aside, I really, really want to like Sara but right now... she's stuck in that box so much she's honestly kind of... bland and boring to watch.

Also just--

In general. I want to say something that's just, my BIG gripe and the reason I come bearing this rant but...

Vivi.

VIVI is why I'm making this RANT!

And you want to know why? It's because in the approximately 16 odd minutes of the Mystery Skulls Animated vidoes we get-- SO MUCH information about who she is and what she stands for as a character. WE HAVE SO MUCH TO WORK WITH. Hell even in the brief flashback sequence, there's a lot to analyse and unpack-- she's not just reduced to-- Lewis' former girlfriend despite how easily that could have been the case. Which-- I mean, I have... a number of rants for Vivi in the works... beyond just my MBTI analysis that's already up...

BUT conversely... and maddeningly-- I can't say the same for Sara. Between the two movies if there is one character who feels kind of... empty aside overtures, or rather underdeveloped... it's Sara.

Which is a crying shame. But there's two movies of content and I still only have the vaguest idea of WHO she really is as a person. Oh I know who she is. But... I don't really know Who she is.

Like, seriously... the closest we get to some glimpses is this opening of movie 2, some scenes in movie one, and her moment with Mummy.

Which... I have other things to talk about regarding this... a more proper analysis regarding her verses Tadeo on these events... BUT THAT'S ANOTHER ANALYSIS.

Also what moments from Movie 1?

How's about priorities?

"But first tell me if ANYTHING you told me was true!"

ALSO, I have some things to say about Tadeo's response to this... but that's ALSO deserving of it's whole own analysis and it really wouldn't be fair... And aside this... well again... moments.

Which... I still don't actually have much, but these are sort of... the moments with the most character from Sara. OH, aside from when she's with Tiffany, and arguably-- when alone and kidnapped with Rackham... which, huh-- That would bring me to another point honestly... but this isn't actually my "Making your Villain Memorable" rant. ALTHOUGH-- The Rackham stuff and Tiffany will need to be addressed.

I want to talk about the moments I currently have first. Which aren't... precisely in order, but I think they're in order of the impact for me.

Which first moment is when Tad's sacrificing his father's cufflink, his greatest treasure. Giving it to Mummy, and again-- I have many words... but what's telling is Sara's reaction and how that kind of ties into the significance there. Because overall it just says-- well, it says how deeply she's affected seeing it as well-- Which isn't something you see much in these movies unfortunately.

The next moment I would like to call the "I sense bullshit radar". Considering how she finds Tad's story initially a bit flawed, also laying out the law, starting to plan. Sara has a head on her shoulders and is NO FOOL.

UNTIL SHE IS.

And I think only HALF of this final highlight moment can be blamed on the situation because heyyyy--

Let's circle around to the Rackham stuff. And... other movie 2 stuff.

Which, I know this miiiight be arbitrary or not really something that can be linked. BUT there's a difference in how she handles these moments... And hell, I would also add the opening to movie 2-- but Sara has... levelled her head A LOT more when it comes to handling potentially life threatening danger between movies. In what information she grabs(opening) and then in the above scene, what she actually lets the villain learn.

Which also, anyone else get a short circuit feeling from that?

And hell, even as much as I have issues with the whole sequence of events and a SPOILER filled rant about it...

Even here, again. Pretty chill, pretty level. At best/worst it's really stunned silence. But this scene has a number of issues and I have a rant that will go up after a fic(if I can just keep myself long enough to WRITE that fic...). And just... well--

Then the last thing is-- well Tiffany.

Also... just generally on this second screencap here, I like to just-- talk about the moment before as well-- since there's something just... Really wild in what leads to it.

Like... why does she look SO CONFUSED?! Like-- I don't know if I'm the only one who sees this, but when Rackham first shows up... she looks so confused, like how could he get there so quickly?! And then Tiffany steps out and there's that shocked expression and it gives off this sense that just-- When Tiffany stormed off Sara knew but she didn't know. Like you ever have those moments-- where you know someone's going to make a bad decisions... and yet-- you're still SHOCKED by how bad a decision they make?

Yeah, that's Sara here... and she's... been trying with Tiffany.

But still... yeah.

And what does all this ultimately add up to?

Sara still being too broad in the long of it.

BECAUSE IT TOOK ME A GOOD HOUR, OR TWO, Of ranting and discussing this with some friends for me to dig out these moments and I STILL don't have a solid, solid character for Sara. And do you know why?

Because of the one FATAL FLAW...

Forced

Romance

...And when I say forced romance, I really, really mean it. Do you know what one of my BIGGEST COMPLAINTS of movie 2 is. It's that when Sara gets mad, or feels like she should be mad, it's not allowed to hold. It's just glossed over. And then of course, complaint two is the other obvious thing. Sara feels... as if she's just there to dispense the plot and then to be kidnapped.

She spends the first two and a half quarters of the movie kidnapped, and even after only gets the barest amount of screen time. Hell she had MORE to do in movie 1, and that's probably because the plot was broader and gave them all time to shine with action, even if she still felt-- hard.

Like seriously, does-- any of these moments stand out on their own? Without a number of rewatches and forcing my focus to actually be on Sara to analyse... not really. It all blends and blurs because of one big thing that EATS up her character and forces it into that kind of bland box.

She's forced and pushed to fit the lens of the love interest. With Tad's chasing-- and how that impacts the story.

And I'd also like to complain about ANOTHER thing in this similar vein but...

In movie one there's a sequence I... haven't really brought up in this rant, along with in general how Sara is there-- because here's the thing. Aside the glimpses... she... really feels like a PROP a lot of the time. In both movies. But-- in movie 1 there are a few moments specific.

And the first is actually the train moment with Kopponen. Sara was definitely NOT going to hand the tablet over...

But of course, Tad had to SCREW UP trying to be a hero... and for the rest of the sequence it feels a lot like Sara's only purpose is to more or less be grabbed and damselled again... And even later on, it feels like Wasted Potential--

Like, she's used to motivate other characters--

Which okay... I'm not going to say that Vivi is excused from, since that's who I'm comparing her with... BUT there's a DRASTIC difference of character agency in HOW and why they are used as motivation between them.

Might not on the surface seem like much of a difference--

Especially in the immediate context that's offered here with how Lewis is using the picture in his locket and the implied additional angle to his attempted revenge against Arthur-- which, mind you-- there's a HELL of a lot more going on there... BUT-- When it comes to the ACTION... not just that moment up higher... but when there's actual ACTIVE danger...

Come Hellbent... And Shiromori...

Meanwhile with Sara the best we have across both movies... is moments. She handles herself in the opening of the sequel and-- well we actually have the climbing sequence to the final temple... which... I have-- words about as well, but the big ones right now is actually in the choice of lyrics playing over what--

But...

Sara actually only gets the "Now I'm Invincible" stuff-- or the Majority of it. There might be the more romance stuff, but for the most part-- she's pretty much being defined as "Invincible on her own" which also... yeah. It's true. The strongest moments for Sara are those moments when she's on her own, and away from the Tadeo drama... or even when she was used to motivate her Dad's actions in the first movie.

Which... actually makes me circle back to something that just... doesn't fit.

"It's been the most amazing adventure. All these days with you. I wouldn't trade that for the world. I... I love..."

WHICH LOOK

Isn't Sara supposed to be the expert on the whole of what this movie is about? King Midas' Collar and Golden Touch, this was her long term project. So why is it that in this scene she's forgotten all that she's supposedly studied and why they're even here? Like does anyone else get death confession vibes from this, which... considering Sara should know this is supposed to be reversible?!

Because forced romance plot.

I mean, I have more to say, but honestly... at this point I'm running out of ways to properly articulate my points. But in the end... what can I say about Sara now that I'm at the end of my rant? You know, beyond FREE HER FROM THE ROMANCE PLOT....

Well, actually a lot more than I expected or thought at the start... And that's because now I've been through and watched with focus on her. Although some of it still had to be informed and given to me.

Which yeah--

Sara is an expert in her own field, supposedly anyway. Which, let's be fair, that's not her fault, that's plot mandated information failures.

She's Peruvian, which, I think is established in the first movie, that's her home. And where she's grown up, but it's really not made clear in either movie. Or at the least, not as clear as it should be. PLEASE GIVE HER MORE PERUVIAN PRIDE I SWEAR--

She is clearly much, much more impressed by Tadeo when he's being humble and honest. Like just damn. Those are the traits she respects and what's to see.

Sara actually respects and listens to other people, she's patient with them and hears out what they have to say. And this... isn't just with Mummy in that scene, but also she's patient with Tiffany and-- I do have more to say on that... but again, another post.

She is definitely in this for knowledge and awareness than necessarily results. She's not chasing fame.

Honestly, she shines so, so much better when there's NO ROMANCE, and really is a strong women on her own. Doesn't need anyone.

Has chased after her father's recognition, in the same field, to having the same issue of leaving behind those she cares for... Time is limited you know.

Which yeah... okay. Sara, definitely deserves better!

[dmsden]

By My Oath - Personal Plot for Paladins

Knights in shining armor. Lawful stupid. A moral compass. A pain in the ass.

Paladins have been part of the D&D game for a long time, first appearing in the Greyhawk supplement for original D&D. All the way through 3rd edition, they had to be Lawful Good, which made a lot of people dislike them, since they were often the one preventing the party from torturing or killing prisoners, fighting dishonorably, stealing and looting, and other fun activities. The portrayal of Sir Osric the Chaste in the movie Gamers: Dorkness Rising is a classic "Lawful Stupid" paladin, and the other players clearly hate having him along. As of 4th edition, paladins can be of any alignment, which might have helped people get over their dislike of them. In 5th edition especially, however, they are still bound by an Oath that defines their behaviors and powers.

Each Oath is so different from the others that each one is likely to have its own sort of quests to follow. In this article, unlike previous personal plots, we'll take a look at each Oath and give a few ideas for storylines that might fit that concept.

The Oath of Devotion is very much a classic knight in shining armor, calling for the paladin to act very much as a chivalrous member of Arthur's Round Table. I think this is the perfect place to begin looking for inspiration. An Oath of Devotion paladin could be going on quests for a liege lord, defeating evil knights, rescuing those in need, seeking out lost holy relics, and the like. You might decide that there are orders of knighthood in your campaign, perhaps taking inspiration from Dragonlance's Knights of Solamnia. Perhaps your paladin wants to work up through the orders, achieving higher ranks of knighthood, eventually becoming one of the king's "peerless companions" or something of the like.

An Oath of Conquest paladin is almost the opposite of this ideal. They could be the lawful evil version of the same, following a tenet of might makes right, a lawful neutral knight who wants to wipe chaos out altogether, or a lawful good knight who truly believes that by establishing an iron rule over others, they can make the world a better place. Quests for such a paladin could involve vanquishing the forces of chaos, defeating other knights in order to conquer their lands, putting down rebellions for their liege lord, or seeking things that will make them more powerful - the better to bring order to the world.

Oath of Redemption paladins have a crazy road ahead, because they've chosen to seek violence only as a last resort. Their powers and spells are much more geared for defense and protection. I could see a Redemption paladin working as a diplomat, trying to make treaties with goblins, orcs, and the like. They could be atoning for something in their past...perhaps they were a villainous character or minion, but now they have forsworn that path for a new one. Perhaps there is a holy quest, such as recovering the Cup and Talisman of Al'Akbar and returning it to a shrine of Lathander, that will ultimate guide them to their own redemption, freeing them from the bonds of an infernal contract. It's worth noting that the party should probably be aware of the presence of such a paladin and be cool with it. It definitely calls for a different style of gaming than the norm.

The Oath of the Ancients Paladin fights for the green, living world, kindling hope and protecting beauty. These paladins can definitely raid the Druid's wheelhouse for plot elements, protecting sacred groves, slaying forces that seek to corrupt the natural world, and protecting those around them. Perhaps an Oath of the Ancients paladin serves a fragile elven kingdom, seeking to protect it from any encroaching evil that haunts its woods. Quests against hags would seem to be a particularly appropriate choice for these paladins.

A paladin who follows the Oath of the Crown is tied strongly to civilization, serving a king, a nation, or law in general. They could be called upon at low levels to pacify a group of bandits, to slay a marauding monster that threatens a small village, or to rescue a local lord from the forces that threaten his rule. As they gain in levels, they might break up slaver rings, face an encroaching army of gnolls head on, or champion a king's cause in a tourney. At the highest levels, they should face threats that threaten the kingdom, if not reality itself. Chaotic primordials, demons, and the like make excellent foes for such a paladin.

THe Oath of Venegeance has story built into its very core. What was the event that caused the paladin to swear such an oath? What is the core wrong that such a paladin longs to right? I jokingly call this the Batman oath, because I could easily see a character modeled after the Dark Knight. Perhaps the vengeance that needed taking has long since been taken - the parents are avenged or what not. Perhaps that brought the paladin no satisfaction, and now they ride to bring vengeance for the sake of everyone who could not get it for themselves. A town raided by worgs, a family who lost a loved one to drow kidnappers, or a community suffering under a tyrannical dragon can all expect aid from an Oath of Vengeance paladin.

I hope this has you thinking about plot for the Paladin in your game. Paladins are great, flavorful characters who deserve love...and plot.

[somenewsarah]

Betrothed pt. 3!

Part 1, Part 2

Word Count: 2.3k+

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw!Reader

Requested: Yes! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

George Weasley sits atop the stairs, his mouth still open from the recent encounter with you. He stands slowly and makes his way downstairs, watching you as Draco tucks you under his arm and guides you out of the Burrow.

“Georgie,” Molly says, her motherly instincts kicking in before she even knows of the situation. She rubs his arm softly. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

“She picked him,” he says, shaking his head. “I thought for sure…”

 “I know,” Molly says, hugging him tightly around the middle. “Sometimes we don’t understand love. Sometimes it chooses us instead of us choosing it.”

 “This isn’t that,” George spits. “She’s being forced to marry him, mum. Her father arranged it because the Malfoy’s are rich.”

 “I’m sure that isn’t how she feels, George.”

 “But it is. Said he can give her more,” he whispers. He turns, heading back up the stairs, resigned to just be in his own head for a while.

 Molly sighs and begins clearing the dinner plates along with Ginny and Hermione, who offers her a small smile.

 “If it’s any help,” Hermione starts, wringing her hands together. “Y/N is a good friend of mine. She really does care for George, but she isn’t choosing Draco because he has money. You should see the two of them alone together.”

 “I’ve seen them,” Ginny chimes in. “Hermione’s right. Money doesn’t make anyone that happy.”

 ~

 You sit in the windowsill of your dormitory, watching the snow fall on the ground in heaps. Tonight is the night. You knew what was going to happen, and you promised Draco that you’d stay in your dormitory, and he would come for you before he left. You were to leave with him.

 “We should go help Harry,” Luna says, breezing around the room as she collects her things. “He’ll need all he can get.”

 “I can’t,” you say, shaking your head. “I promised.”

 “No one should ask you to promise to not do what’s right,” Luna says more to herself than to anyone. “People are very strange when surrounded by Nargals.”

 She tucks her wand into her shirt sleeve and almost floats out of the dormitory.

 You tuck your knees to your chest and watch the snow some more. It feels like you watch it for hours, ignoring all the commotion coming from the common room. You don’t know how much time passes, but suddenly, Draco is scooping you from the windowsill and into his arms, holding you to him.

 “Is it done?” You ask, your eyes searching his. They’re bloodshot and dull and not Draco’s eyes at all, it feels.

 He nods once, swallowing hard. Your gaze falls to the floor. His hands feel dirty now, holding you like this, and you wiggle out of his grasp, your breathing erratic and shallow.

 “Y/N,” he starts, reaching for you. You tug your arm away. “Y/N, please. I didn’t do it.”

 “But it’s done?” You ask, confused and shaking and panicking.

 “Snape did it. I couldn’t,” he says, his voice raising an octave. “They’re waiting outside for us. We need to get out of here now.”

 “Okay,” you utter. You follow him out of your dormitory and you’re led by Professor Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange, and a few others you don’t know off Hogwarts grounds in a rush. As soon as you step over the property line, Snape grabs hold to you and Draco and apparates away.

 ~

 The inside of Malfoy manor is a flurry of activity. It feels colder and greyer than it ever has, but you walk softly to your room, trying your hardest to keep your footsteps light.

 “Y/N,” your father says, stepping into your path. He removes his Death Eater’s mask and stands before you, a hand clapping on your shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

 “For what?” You snap, pushing his arm away. “I’ve done nothing worthy of your pride.”

 “Those muggles, those mudbloods… They’ll all pay for what they did to your mother,” he snarls. He isn’t the same man he once was; he isn’t your warm, loving father anymore. “You did the right thing tonight, listening to Draco. You’ll make a fine wife.”

 You snort to yourself and shove past him, feeling the rage build up inside of you for the first time in your life. You don’t care about your footsteps anymore. You don’t care about Fred, or George, or Draco, or anyone. You don’t care. You stomp to your room and close the door, locking it behind you.

 “Y/N?” A small voice whispers from the darkest corner of your room. Draco steps towards you, his face tear-stained and pale.

 Ignoring him, you pull your trunk from under the bed and pace the room, flinging your own belongings inside of it.

 “Not now,” you finally utter.

 “You’re leaving?” His voice cracks, and you can feel a small piece of your heart break off.

 “Yes,” you say, your voice is stern and cold and for a moment you don’t recognize it. You continue shoving your belongings inside of your trunk until it’s full.

 “Is it because of me?”

 “No.”

 “Please talk to me,” he whispers. He steps towards you finally, grabbing your hands in his own. Your heart aches to be with him, but not after tonight. Not after this. How could you be with someone so cold and cruel?

 “Draco, I can’t do this,” you say, pulling your hands from his. “Let me go.”

 “I can’t let you go, Y/N,” he says, his voice raising now. “I won’t.”

 “Please,” you beg. “Please just let me go, let me be free!”

 “You’ve always been free,” he’s taken aback and you can’t help but be ashamed at your choice of wording. “I’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me.”

 “Fine,” you relent.

 Draco steps towards you and his hands quickly travel to your face, stroking your cheeks, feeling your skin as if it were the last time he was to do it. He tilts your head back and his lips dance across yours lightly, so soft you began to wonder if he was even kissing you.

 “One thing,” he whispers, his lips still brushing against your own. “Look me in the eyes right now, and tell me you don’t love me. Tell me you’re only with me because of this deal, and I’ll let you go without a sound. I won’t follow you. Just tell me.”

 “Draco,” you breathe. You know you can’t do it. You know you’ll break if you look into his eyes and say those words. You gaze up at him, your own eyes watering with the choice you know you will make. “I do love you, Draco. I love you more than this deal, even though this deal was one of the greatest things to ever happen to me. But if you love me back, you’ll let me go. You’ll let me get out of this mess, you’ll let me go somewhere where I feel safe.”

 He rests his forehead against yours as he closes his eyes. His jaw is tight as he clenches it for a moment. Then, to your own surprise, he takes a step back from you, though he keeps your hands tightly held between his own.

 “I love you enough to let you go,” he says. He stands up straight and drops his hands. You’d never felt emptier.

 “I still want to be with you,” you clarify. “But not like this. Not when I’m locked in a house with murderers.”

 “I understand,” he stiffens. “Write me when you get where you’re going. I’ll come find you.”

 “Draco,” you start. “I’m sorry.”

 “Don’t be,” he says. His voice has hardened significantly. “Wouldn’t want you stuck with a bunch of murderers.”

 ~

 The burrow is warm and homey and not the place you imagined you’d end up at. The journey took hours, and your feet were cramping and tired. Molly, it seemed, almost waited up for you. She had a cup of hot tea ready as you flopped down on the couch.

 “I’m sorry to intrude,” you say, sipping your tea gratefully.

 “Never an intrusion, dear,” she smiles, patting you on the leg. “Hermione and Ginny are both awake upstairs, why don’t you head on up?”

 “Thank you, Molly,” you smile. “I appreciate it.”

 With that, you drudge upstairs, taking them one at a time, each one feeling heavier than the last. Walking away from Draco was a choice you had to make for yourself, even though each stair feels like stomping on your own heart.

 “Y/N?” Ginny asks as you finally enter her room. She was on the floor next to Hermione, a book between them. She stands and moves to you quickly. “Are you alright? I know tonight was kind of crazy.”

 “Yeah, I’m alright,” you nod. “Are you two?”

 “We’re alright,” Hermione says. She stands quickly and wraps you in a hug; it was the kind of hug you needed but hadn’t been given in a long time. Not since your mother.

 “I couldn’t stay in that house,” you say, your voice finally cracking. “Not when I know what they all did.”

 “Are you gone for good?” Ginny asks, folding her arms.

 “I don’t know,” you whisper, untangling yourself from Hermione. “I don’t think I could ever leave Draco for good, but I can’t be with him while he’s there.”

 Hermione and Ginny share a look.

 “Y/N,” Hermione starts. She guides you to what you assume is her own bed and the three of you sit. “After you left from dinner on Christmas, George was pretty messed up about what happened.”

 “I’d never seen him so upset,” Ginny starts, but Hermione gives her a stern look.

 “Not helping.”

 “Sorry,” Ginny says quickly. “We’re only telling you this because we want you to be prepared for the possibility that he might not be the same George you usually get.”

 “Alright,” you say, testing the thought. “Thanks for letting me stay. I won’t be here long.”

 ~

 The next morning at breakfast is tense and awkward. George won’t look at you and sits on the opposite end of the table from you, Fred tries to be as normal as possible, and Ron consistently makes snarky comments about you.

 “Y/N dear, have some more toast,” Molly smiles, pushing the plate over to you.

 “Oh, I’m sure she wants more. A piece is never enough,” Ron mutters into his food. Hermione nudges him harshly. He’d obviously heard George’s side of the story.

 You swallow the comment and dip your head into your food, eating quietly. You can’t bring yourself to come to any sort of defense, because it would only fall on deaf ears, and you can’t bring yourself to stand up for anything or even Draco because of the horrible things you knew were going to happen, and you never said anything.

 “Ronald,” Arthur snaps.

 “What?” Ron snaps back. “She can treat people however she wants but can’t handle it when someone gives it back.”

 “Come off it, mate,” George mutters.

 “You of all people should find the irony of her leaving the Malfoys and coming straight here!” Ron slams his fist on the table, and you jump.

 With heavy, shaky breaths, you push your plate away from you and stand. Every pair of eyes at the table is on you, which has never been something you enjoy. But you need to get this out or you feel like you might explode.

 “Ron,” you say, addressing him directly. “Shut up. Shut up about me, shut up about George, shut up about Draco. I know what you all think of me, because you only got George’s side of the story, but that’s alright. He’s your family, you should be on his side.”

 Everyone is quiet as your voice rises an octave, the rage from the entire situation building up faster than you can work to contain it.

 “George, I don’t want to be with Draco because he has more money than you. I didn’t pick him to hurt you or spite you. I really did like you a lot when my father made the deal, and I’m sorry that he did because I think you and I could’ve been great maybe,” you swallow hard, now fully looking George in the eye. “But meeting Draco was the best thing that ever happened to me. I love him, and I won’t apologize for that. None of you know him the way I do. None of you see the way he’s there for me during the night when my mother’s death haunts me, and none of you see the way he’s always waiting to swoop in for the rescue when my father has almost drunk himself to death.”

 “Y/N,” Molly says, touching your arm. You rip it away from her harsher than intended.

 “No, I’m not finished. I’m sorry,” you say softly, directing it specifically at Molly for the arm snatch. She nods at you. “Ron, I don’t expect you to understand anything that has happened, or understand why I’m doing what I’m doing, but until you do, just shut up. I’m sorry George, for hurting you with my decision. I’m sorry Molly and Arthur, for intruding in your home. I’ll go.”

 You push your chair into the table and move to grab your trunk that still sits by the front door from arriving the night before. Hermione gives you a small smile, Ron can’t meet your gaze. George pushes the food around on his plate, refusing to look at you any longer.

 “Be safe,” Harry says. It’s the first words he’s spoken to you since you’d arrived at all.

 You nod once, then fling the door open and leave the Burrow for good. You don’t know where you’ll go or who you’ll become, but the one thing you did know for certain, is that that bridge had been burned.

Taglist: @accio-rogers  @hecatemacbeth7  @nerd-domland  @mclfoybaby  @emoshawnall  @mccloudchloe  @bladeofanarchangel

[kitaychan]

White Flame

Chapter 12

Warnings: Blood, Psychological Horror

General Summary:  Royal/ Magical AU. As their two Kingdoms get closer to a war, the past keeps on hovering around their choices. Prince Ivan has a hard time controlling his magical powers while being tormented by a mysterious ghost and Prince Alfred embarcs in seeking a revenge that might cost more than it’s worth it.

Preview: Alfred frowned, approaching the table. “Why do you know all that?”

“Because that law concerned all magic holders, it was a direct threat that took the lives of thousands, Ludwig’s father applied that law in his early years of reign, the sorcerers in the Middle and East Kingdoms were purged. It is an antecedent for us in the Islands as we received some of the refugees that fled from there.” Arthur took the book and the candle from the table, not bearing the smell of iron anymore, he motioned Alfred to follow him upstairs.

Knowledge

A single drop of water fell every now and then, echoing in the small basement, Arthur was sure it had been a dungeon before, for what purpose did the King have a dungeon in his palace? Arthur didn’t want to know. The place was damp, the door’s lock was so rusty, he didn’t have to use a key to open it.

Inside, the darkness was unbearable, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, Arthur had to light a candle but it only seemed to worsen the gloomy atmosphere the small room had.

Cobwebs covered the shelfs, the rusty chains on the floor were sticky, he hoped that the red splotches on them were oxide and not blood, the smell of iron was enclosed after years of not opening the room, Arthur had to breathe slowly so as to not gag.

The sooner he got to work, the sooner he’d be able to leave. He opened a shelf, a lone spider running away at the sign of him trespassing its home, the books inside were crumpled, the lower ones were wet, his eyes traveled over the faded letters in the covers, putting some over the table, Arthur frowned, that looked more like a dissection table but he had no right to question predecessors, not when he was guilty of usurpation.

The light flickered slightly, shadows dancing around the scattered books laying on the large table, tha yellow pages and the dusty covers showed the deteriorated state of the texts, Arthur cursed mentally, whoever had the nerve of putting books in here.

So far his search was futile, there was no mention of the creature he saw at the ball. Though his mind had pointed to the obvious label of ‘ghost’, its presence was beyond the forces of a mere spirit.

The wooden door cracked, the light from the candle merely revealed the person that stood in the entrance, Arthur would have been more cautious but the thunderous laughter that filled the small room was unmistakable.

“I can’t believe you are here, when I said that the old books were in the dungeon, I was joking.”

Arthur didn’t glance back, setting aside another useless book, diary was a better way to describe them, the handwriting was messy, barely legible, though they had some beautiful illustrations, the purpose of that book was merely botanical, nothing he could use. He sighed, a headache beginning to form in his head. “Alfred, why are these books here?”

“Because I said so.”

Arthur turned to him, crossing his arms. “This is not the moment for your games, I need a serious answer.”

Alfred shrugged, looking around, covering his nose with his hand as he entered. “That’s the answer, I got these books from a merchant, he said they were from the royal library in the east, I thought, “royal library of the east” as in books regarding their culture, geography and such, it was a scam, they are diaries from Ivan’s grandfather. What an irony that it is me who acquired them.” He picked up one from the pile, toying with the pages. “This guy should have been an artist, look at how realistic this looks. Do you think it is a self- portrait?”

The page Alfred was showing him was an illustration of a man, his haunting eyes looked directly at the observer, the traces were precise and resembled the same face he saw in the ball, Arthur eyes widened.  “Bloody hell, Alfred, you have the best of luck. Let me see.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, passing the pages rapidly as Arthur observed him with dread. “I found it first, I get to look at the drawings before you do. Look, it’s Yekaterina!”  He held the book for him to see again.

A drawing of a young woman was there, her hair tied in a braid, it was barely a sketch but her face was detailed, her expression was soft, she was smiling.

At the end of the page, Arthur glanced at what seemed to be a poem, though he couldn’t distinguish all of the words. He sighed. “That’s probably her grandmother.”

Alfred observed the page again, nodding slightly, flickering through the book. “True but the resemblance is astonishing. There are more drawings of her, looks like he really loved her, right?”

Arthur grimaced, averting his gaze from Alfred. “He kind of killed her.”

The book was dropped on the table, making the pile of unrevised books shake. Alfred’s words held a speck of derision in their tone. “What? No way, is there anyone in that family not a murderous lunatic?”

“I don’t think he meant to do so.”

“What’s on your head, Arthur? Now, the whole notebook filled with portraits of his dead wife, places this guy into a creepier level.”

“Firstly, those portraits might be from before, she is really young in those. Secondly, he didn’t directly kill her, there was a law during his reign that declared all magic related activities forbidden. He didn’t happen to know that she was a sorcerer too. When the rules in the east are upheld, they apply to everyone, without hesitance and without privileges. That Alfred, is why they don’t usually change laws, it can be counterproductive for the royalty. After that incident the law was abolished, probably to save his son from that same fate.”

Alfred frowned, approaching the table. “Why do you know all that?”

“Because that law concerned all magic holders, it was a direct threat that took the lives of thousands, Ludwig’s father applied that law in his early years of reign, the sorcerers in the Middle and East Kingdoms were purged. It is an antecedent for us in the Islands as we received some of the refugees that fled from there.” Arthur took the book and the candle from the table, not bearing the smell of iron anymore, he motioned Alfred to follow him upstairs.

When they were reaching the first floor, Alfred cleared his throat, a sheepish smile on his face. “Nice story time, you should enlighten me more about this and not those wacky tales of invisible creatures. Let’s get some dinner.”

“They are not tales and they are heavily connected with your own Kingdom’s history. In fact, I believe that man you showed me earlier had something to do with the behaviour of this King, such paranoia can’t be fortuitous.”

Entering the dining hall, Arthur noticed Madeline was already there waiting, the table was arranged and the food was served. Was Alfred looking for him so they could eat together? Arthur’s stomach twisted, reminding him how starved he was.

Alfred shook his head, patting him on the back. “What are you talking about this time, a ghost?”

The food looked astonishing but his appetite was spoilt, the smell of iron was lingering in his nose. “Perhaps” he replied, frowning at the sight of Alfred, he was giggling.

Noisy laughter echoed in the room, eclipsing Madeline’s greeting. “You are proposing a mighty opponent, Arthur. You can’t punch a ghost, you can’t kill it ‘cause it’s dead and you can’t even see it. How do you get rid of one?”

Arthur grimaced, taking a sip of the wine, Alfred always managed to formulate questions with answers that he could not give.

---

Ivan wandered around the hallways, the silence broken by his footsteps. Every now and then he found himself returning to the same place.

The trophy hall was tidy, the gray wolf had been covered again, it was an order he gave after his father died, even when he couldn’t bear to see the animal, he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. What would that knight say if he could choose? Surely he wouldn’t want to be dead but if he were a ghost..

Ivan shook his head, he had to get some rest or else those silly thoughts would end up as a nightmare again.

Light footsteps echoed in the hall, a soft voice greeted him. “Good evening.”

Ivan turned around to see Natalya, she was holding her hands together, her blue dress was impeccable. He sighed, greeting her back. “Hello, Natalya. Do you like hanging around the palace?”

She nodded, approaching slowly, a frown in her face. “It is a beautiful place. How did the celebration go?”

He shrugged. “It was fine, the treaty was signed and Gilbert threatened us, the usual diplomacy."

She lowered her head, knitting her eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound very well, I hope it's nothing serious."

Ivan dismissed with his hand and shook his head, turning to watch the silhouette of the wolf, feeling Natalya's gaze on him, he asked. "Is there something you need?"

She nodded. "Yekaterina, she is looking for a seal, she asked me to retrieve it from you, said that you knew what she was talking about.”

Ivan pondered on what that could mean, but he hadn't entered the office since their arrival. "I don't understand. She must be confused."

He frowned, Natalya was still observing him, an awkward silence filled the room and she made no sign as to leave. She had another motive, didn't she?

Clearing his throat, he asked. "What do you like the most about the palace?”

Natalya shifted uncomfortably. “I… I like the gardens, they are colorful and the servants said that there was a peacock around, though, I haven’t seen it.”

Ivan chuckled, pacing around. “It’s a cunning animal. My father brought it from the east but just as the people from there, it does not trust us.”

Natalya observed the fabric covering the mounted animal. Placing her slender fingers on the wolf’s head, her voice betrayed her calm demeanour. “Why did you bring her back?” she huffed.

So, that was what she wanted to say.

Ivan glared at her. “Why did you take the letter? It wasn’t for you.”

She shrugged. “I delivered, Tolys was busy running away with Feliks. I had to read it for her, why did you think it was a good idea to send a letter to an illiterate person?”

Ivan’s eyes widened, he averted his gaze from her. “Well, you know why she’s here, why do you ask then?”

She hummed, lifting the fabric slightly. “Why her?”

He shook his head, taking Natalya’s hand and moving it away from the wolf. “There is not a single magician that would come here after what happened before, they are too scared and she may help me.”

Natalya took a step back, retreating her hand and muttering her question. “Why are you seeking magical power? Don’t you have it already?”

Ivan frowned, the fabric sliding swiftly from the animal, revealing the soft gray fur. “I can't control it as I wish.” The wolf’s blue eyes were staring back at him and he stepped back, his voice quivering slightly. “It can be quite dangerous.”

“It is foolish to ask that much from her, what if she knows nothing?” Natalya huffed.

Ivan locked his gaze with Natalya and she fumbled with her hands. “She has to, Natalya or I’ll have to ask help from Alfred’s sister.”

Looking back at the wolf, his hands trembled, those blue eyes, he couldn’t just throw the animal away, those eyes weren’t  a beast's eyes, even after these years those blue orbs were still haunting.

Natalya’s voice changed abruptly, raising her volume. “Why do you ask the help of strangers when you could have relied on me? Am I that abhorrent to you?”

Ivan flinched at the sudden outburst, focusing on Natalya's expresion, her eyes were blue too, aside from the tears threatening to fall, her eyes had a glint of audacity now, strange as she didn’t seem to have enough will to contradict him before, Ivan wondered if he could trust her to be honest for once. “Natalya, do you love me?”

Her eyes widened but her answer came without hesitation. “Yes.”

Ivan grimaced, he was hoping she’d doubt, he approached her slowly. “I don’t think I can return your love the way you expect me to, Natalya, I do love you, just like I love my sister, we are family. You don’t have to submit to my wishes so easily, it makes me uncomfortable and it’s unnerving to deal with falsehood if it comes from you.”

She nodded, embracing him forcefully and sobbing. “I hate you.” her voice was shaky, she inhaled deeply after every sob. “I hate all of you, I try to keep everyone happy but Katya is cruel, my mother wants to get rid of me, my father doesn’t take me seriously and you… you don’t love me. You all should suffer more than I do.”

He waited for her to finish, her words were harsh, deep inside, Ivan was relieved, Natalya’s words were true, she was pouring her thoughts to him without worrying about his opinion.

When her voice stopped, she pushed him away, hiding her face with her hands and turning her back.

They stood for a while in silence, Natalya pacing around the room, she faced him, clearing her throat. “I can look for a mage in the firebird, my father said that the inhabitants were docile and well learned.”

He sighed, giving her a small smile and nodding. “We should go and look for the peacock, it must be hidden.”

She leaned to his side and took a hold of his arm, Ivan watched her wearily but did not push her aside.

“What is that you wish to know?” She asked, lifting an eyebrow. “About magic” she added.

“Anything about fire.”

Natalya chuckled, showing him a small smile. "I like that wolf, you shouldn't hide it, it's magnificent."

Ivan tried to stop himself from frowning while Natalya's grip tightened, perhaps it wasn't a good idea to rely on her.

---

The fireplace cracked, the wood inside gleaming with a bright yellow before turning red, Alfred liked to watch the flames consuming the logs, there was nothing better than sitting beside the warmth after a long day, that smell in the basement has left him dizzy.

He could lay beside the fireplace and rest, the carpet was soft and thick, the dim light emanating from it was an invitation to close his tired eyes, way before his father’s death, he found himself struggling to get a clear view from afar, this led him to abandon the hopes of mastering archery, how could he shoot if he didn’t see the target clearly?

He sighed, closing his eyes, soft footsteps approached, he didn’t have to see who it was, the steps were familiar, Madeline was always delicate, even when walking, she was an expert at sneaking around without getting caught.  

Her voice broke the silence, “Is the light bothering you again?”

Alfred opened his eyes, her concerned expression was hard to distinguish with the low light, what he could see was the cream color of her dress and the book she was holding. He yawned, pointing at her hands. “What are you reading about this time?”

She sat by his side, showing him the book, the cover was green adorned with golden leafs, Madeline beamed. “It’s a book of spells, there is one that claims to conceal you from dangers.”

He hummed, his eyelids closing again. “Does it have one for my eyes? I could use some eagle vision or something.”

Madeline giggled, placing her hand in his forehead. “I don’t think that’s possible, to perform magic one has to give something, perhaps such a deed would require leaving you blind in the first place, in order for your vision to be changed.” She moved her hand over his closed eyes. “Let’s see.”

Alfred moved away rapidly, widening his eyes at Madeline's mischievous smile, he whined. “What? I don’t want to be blind!”

She laughed, reaching to touch him again. “I promise I’ll give you the eyes of an eagle, they could be yellow too.”

Alfred jerked away, laughing nervously. “No way, I like them blue, stay away.”

Madeline retreated her hands, “You have some correspondence” opening the book, she showed him several envelopes and a folded paper. "I have written a letter for Yekaterina,” she added.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, eyeing the letters, trying to read with no avail. “Ugh, I can’t read this late, what do they say?"

“I didn't open your letters, though, there is one from Ivan, what do you think he wants? I thought they'd be colder towards us."

He squinted his eyes, extending his hand to receive it, the blue seal was untouched. "No idea, I'll read it tomorrow. Why are you writing to Yekaterina?”

Madeline frowned, her gaze lowering to the folded paper. "Their father died, we have to send them condolences perhaps that's why he wrote to you.”

“We don’t really have to reply, they didn’t send anything to us before” He sat up, and clicked his tongue, waving the letter in his hand. “Wait, they did, they sent us a horrible treaty with the threat of more confrontation unless we accepted.”

Madeline frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It is the right thing to do, besides Yekaterina is lovely and I want to keep contact with her. I just want you to sign it.”

Alfred glanced at the fireplace, he could throw the letter into the fire easily, a small chuckle escaped him. “Are you sure you wrote that letter to her?”

She retreated her hand, her voice serious. “What does that mean?”

He rolled his eyes, “Oh please, you spent most of our time with Gilbert, Ludwig or Ivan. Why would you write to Yekaterina if you were pleasantly talking with her brother the whole time?”

Madeline smiled, closing the book and standing. “I can write to him if that’s what you want. He sure makes some good and interesting questions, give me the letter and I will reply to it too.”

Alfred shook his head, why was she annoying him? “No, I do not want you to do that!”

She pursed her lips, dusting her dress. “You don’t like me talking to other people, I see.”

Alfred stood up, looking at the book in her hands. “To other guys whom I barely know anything about, No.”

She sighed, smiling again. “Do not worry. I wrote for Yekaterina and I didn’t mention how much you like her.”

Alfred gasped, shaking his head vigorously. “I don’t.”

Madeline laughed, pointing at the letter in his hand. “You said she was beautiful and it’s fine, think about how useful it would be if you married her, I’m sure his brother wouldn’t dare to declare a war on her or the other way around, you can’t attack your brother in law. Perhaps that's why he is writing, I'm sure he noticed how you were doting over his sister.”

“I said that she was beautiful because she is, that doesn’t mean I like her!”

She rolled her eyes, handing him the paper. “Whatever you say, just sign.”

Alfred frowned, taking the paper, he gaped at his sister's handwriting, it was so neat and elegant, unlike his. “No.” he paused, “You wrote the letter, is your doing, I will send one tomorrow but this is your work and I won’t take credit for it, let her read both letters and see how bad my writing is.”

Madeline giggled “Fine, I was going to save you from the embarrassment but have it your way.”

Alfred smiled as she walked away, he turned to the fireplace, the flames were dying alongside the light they provided, Alfred saw himself alone in the room, he traced the blue seal with his finger, opening the letter, squinting his eyes, some of the letters gained a bit of clarity, the words uprising, secrecy, aid, were registered by his brain, a cold feeling settled in his spine, he shivered folding the letter and ran behind his sister, calling out to her. “Wait Madie, you can’t leave me alone.”  

She observed him quietly, a soft smile graced her face. “Quick or the ghost will catch you.”

When she halted her steps to look back at him, Alfred  was relieved, the wrenched feeling in his gut disappearing slowly while a headache grew noticeable.

[psyga315]

Prelude

With Volume 7 just beyond the horizon, I figured to look back at my thoughts for Volume 5 and, through more cooled down eyes, boil down why I consider it to be the worst volume of RWBY. When I wrote my review of Volume 5, it was literally the night the episode premiered, so I was boiling. But now? I’m going to look through the review with fresher eyes and clarify what sort of problems I had with RWBY.

First, a bit of backstory. There was an interview made during the summer in between Volumes 4 & 5 that had the cast say what sort of themes one could expect for Volume 5. Among these were stuff like “building yourself back up again”, “shouting ‘we’re not done here!’”, “solving problems on your own”, and lastly, from Barbara herself, “Strength” and “Growth”. For someone who was just starting to realize why people were turned off by the darkness of Volume 3, this was uplifting to say the least…

Shorts

The Character Shorts kinda hyped the Volume, though they sunk in their own way. Weiss’s Character Short effectively foreshadowed her loss to Vernal. This tough and talented girl gets her ass stomped rather quickly and needed to be bailed out. Winter’s line about how she “won’t be around to save her” was foreshadowing to her not actually being in the season, but when I first heard it, I thought she meant “Hey, I’m going to die this volume, lol!” and that’s without bringing up how the trailer fails to hype Weiss up like the other trailers did.

Blake’s Trailer was alright, especially in taking steps to address a problem regarding Menagerie, but it felt more like Ilia given the backstory dump we got that feels all the more like mandatory reading. The problem is that, and it’s perhaps the very first problem I’ve heard about RWBY, is that the trailers (and by extension, anything that’s a spin off of RWBY like World of Remnant) feel more like you need to watch this rather than you can watch this. It’s confusing, but let’s use Blake’s Short as an example.

Ilia talks about her backstory as it is contrasted with a chase between Blake and a random dude we never see again. Assuming you’ve never watched the trailer, you’d just get the truncated version of “MUH PARENTS ARE DEEEAAAD!” and not the bits where she was forced to resent her own race because it was easier to blend in to her surroundings, like a chameleon. It’s ironic, since RWBY would do the reverse problem with Adam, where his trailer isn’t mandatory but we barely get a backstory for him beyond “I got branded, but everyone will speculate that it’s because I did something bad and not that it drove me to do bad things”.

Lastly, there’s Yang’s short, which had the minor hiccup of contrasting what an interview said about running out of Aura means you can’t use your Semblance. The Aura thing is something that can be discussed for another day, but the basics you should take away from this is that, for some time, people didn’t know how running out of Aura is symbolized. Most people take the flickering as the signal as the next hit on those guys are usually the one that does them in. As such, you had this huge debate on what kind of flickering means Aura broken and what just meant Aura is low, which, personally, could have been avoided if the writers and/or animators just utilized that Aura dust thing (seen prominently in the Bumblebee vs Adam fight) as their definitive “aura broken” animation instead of just using it some of the time.

First Episode

The first episode proper promised a lot. In fact, a good chunk of the first half promised a lot. However, it became much clear in a second viewing that a lot of it was just padding at worst and showing us where the characters are at best. But what I think was done dirty the most in this episode was introducing Mistral. We were hyped in Volume 4 (thanks to World of Remnant) that Mistral was this dichotomy of rich, cultural people and the seedy underbelly of criminals and that, at least one of the elements would be utilized in Volume 5. Unfortunately, all we got were a few mat paintings that contrast what Lionheart was saying in regards to Mistral being in chaos.

And so, the most we get out of Mistral are those mat paintings and a perpetually raining downtown that we don’t see much of, even when it gets briefly revisited in Volume 6. We’re supposed to be invested in the city and yet all we get are empty rooms and 2D art. They took great steps to improve this in Volume 6 with Argus, though, so if there’s any consolation, it’s that they learned from their mistakes here.

But we now get into the biggest problem of why Volume 5 is disliked. Because of the situation, the group are left to basically wait until Lionheart convinces the council to get them some Huntsmen. The heroes. Wait. In a volume where the writers were talking about the themes of improving yourself and pulling through with your own strength.

Do you guys see the problem here? I know people have bitched about Volume 5 to hell and back and you’ve probably heard the complaints to high noon, but this entire issue is what rots Volume 5 to the core the most. Not the piss poor fight scenes, not the inconsistent characterizations, it’s that the plotting decides to take a back seat when the volume was meant to be about taking action.

As the episode goes on, you see the problem unfold. Ruby and friends hit a dead end until Oscar appears and has Ozpin exposit things to them, Weiss is denied a chance to save people and fight the Grimm until the Grimm come to her, Blake is hit with the dead end of the Albains deflecting blame, and Yang had the chance encounter with Bakugou where he knows the hideout of her mom.

The closest person who is taking action here is Yang, who established that she is actively looking for Ruby (technically Raven, but as we see later on, moot point). Blake’s situation is being handled by her dad, Weiss is sitting in the plane until the Grimm come for her, and Ruby is sitting on the couch that I’m pretty sure has her grooves molded into the cushion with how many times she’s sat there.

Episode 2

A minor complaint before we go to Episode 2, we had the Stinger repeat itself because the crew thought that people wouldn’t see the stingers. This is the show, mind you, that makes a point to include scenes at the end of every volume, regardless of how long they are or what point they serve in hyping the next Volume. Hell, one of the major complaints about Volume 2 was about the stinger not mattering. So why did they suddenly decide that the viewers might not see the stinger in a culture where the MCU exists?

Alright, cooling things down, we have three major scenes in Episode 2. Salem’s chat with Lionheart was meh at best and wtf at worst. I get the idea of Salem using different approaches to get people to do what she wants, but the cool aspect of Salem was that her approach was not what a villain would normally be. Instead of berating or choking her minions should they fail or talk back, Salem instead talks people down like she’s a mother to them. Even when Tyrian fails, she doesn’t hurt him, but rather tell him that he disappointed her. So, having her choke Lionheart, even when in hindsight it made some sense, is kinda an odd thing to do.

But not as odd as Salem’s whole “Not you, Arthur” bit. A lot of people drew points to that and the best I can explain is that it’s either a typo (she’s meant to say not yet or not now) or Arthur and Watts are some sort of Jekyll & Hyde thing. Unfortunately, it seems Watts is more a parallel to Watson rather than Jekyll, so that brings me to believe that it’s a typo and so, rather than have an easy explanation for a problem, we just have a compounded problem. One of many.

And there’s something funny to be said about Salem warning Cinder about Silver Eyes when Ruby barely learns about it this Volume. And also that she wants to speak with Tyrian but we never see what comes of it. At all.

I only have one new thing about Weiss vs. the Bees. Originally, the pilot was supposed to be gay, but held off on it because they’d be killing off their first revealed gay character, something that wouldn’t look good to the fanbase. Now, while I understand the reason behind it, I have to question the logic behind why they think it isn’t okay for their first LGBT character to be offed, but instead be someone who seemed okay with murdering her crush’s parents while sending said crush to her abuser.

But more on that later, we have Sienna to discuss. Now, there’s a lot to dissect. For one, RT has obviously realized that they’ve messed up and brought Sienna back for a bit (while taking the heat for “if she’s so badass, why did she go out like a chump”). However, in hindsight, what purpose did she actually serve outside of some cute nod to Shere Khan?

All she did was tell Adam that he’s going too far and that’s it. And really, it just seems hypocritical for the leader of the White Fang to effectively restructure the organization into a terrorist group, murder tons of people, and then suddenly back away and say “woah, too much” when Adam proceeded to help torch Beacon. It’s to the point where one question most people want to ask at cons is “did Sienna order the hit out on the SDC”, since we don’t actually know and that it could be a radical leader of that quadrant like Adam.

It felt more like Sienna should have been just the leader of Mistral’s White Fang faction instead of ruling over all the White Fang, which would make more sense as Adam would need permission to attack a kingdom that isn’t his stomping ground. Then there’s the introduction of Hazel, who at first is presented to be a pretty decent character, not wanting to kill people if he had no choice, but as time goes on, is basically your stock “big soft guy with a secret hulk side” character.

Unfortunately, this episode didn’t help enforce the theme of taking action when it’s the villains who are doing it and seeming to be two if not twenty steps ahead of the heroes.

Episode 3

Episode 3 has that whole speech thing I overlooked. Barring Ghira’s speech that the crew said is based off Obama’s “we killed Osama” speech (which, if it is, paints the whole situation of Sienna’s death in a rather dark light) before Ilia interferes. Now, I actually liked that Menagerie is hesitant to stand up for Haven. After all, humans hated their guts so much that the island was originally planned to be a place where people could dump Faunus on. There were lynchings and enslavements that are still going on to this day, just in subtler forms, Of course the Faunus wouldn’t want to fight.

Then Ilia swoops in and robs Blake of any agency she has with the scene. If RT wanted to not let Blake convince the people until three quarters to the end, they should have cut the subtlety and have some annoying kid go “IT’S TOO EARLY IN THE PLOT TO DO YOUR SPEECH!”. Hell, let Blake tell her story about her team, but the audience balks at the fact that she’s not only friends with a Schnee, but also a human who crippled a guy on live television. Remember that plot point?

We then cut to Oscar and this is perhaps the reason I decided to do this revisit of Volume 5. The way Ozpin talks of action and resolve, it felt like we’re going to the root of the themes of taking action. No more being subject to the events of the plot like in previous Volumes. Now? Now is the time to fight back! And that built up to… what? One training scene and Ruby learning headbutt?

Granted, we see later on that there was a bit more to the plan, but for the most part, it seemed like an excuse for “character growth” as opposed to actual character growth. A training arc isn’t just some short scenes of a person lifting weights and jogging up stairs. Its meant to be a sort of means of growth for the character. There’s a reason most training montages have the character suck at first, but then get better by the time the montage ends. It’s because it’s the quickest way to show growth. But even without that, you could get some serious mileage for a pulled off training arc.

Rocky IV and Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back have some good examples of it. Rocky IV had the titular hero train and work out in the middle of a cold, mountainous range, while his opponent is simply given steroids. It shows the dichotomy between the two and how they view their eventual fight. Empire, on the other hand, had that masterful scene with Luke in the cave, where he has a huge moment of both foreshadowing and character growth.

Here? We just have Ruby learn headbutt like she’s nothing more than a Pokemon. There could have been a lot more done with it, like having Ruby put a lot more force in her punches, causing others to realize she’s extremely angry about what happened to Pyrrha and Penny, or, if the need to exposit about Semblances is needed, bring something new to the table that isn’t going to confuse the fuck out of people… Something like:

“Your Semblance might not reveal itself until you need it most” or something like that. Not “A semblance is someone’s personality, but not. Wow! Exposition!” or “Hey, remember how we said Aura was passive? Welp, not anymore!”

Not to mention that Jaune is seemingly cool with Ozpin suddenly coming back from the dead. Here’s the thing, last Volume had him upset with Ozpin about what happened to Pyrrha, something that didn’t seemed to resolve itself. Keep in mind that, for all rights and merits, Jaune believed Ozpin to have died. In fact, it was that confirmation that Ozpin had lost against Cinder that convinced Pyrrha to kill herself. Now here he is, seemingly stuck in the body of another kid and he just outright said this is a normal thing for him.

You’d expect him to have something more than “golly!”. The fact that he didn’t seem to have any aggression towards Ozpin until after he ran to his hidey hole in Volume 6 seems rather odd given that his entire character is that he’s angsting about Pyrrha and angry at Cinder for what she did. The group seem rather content to just sit back and let the plot happen, which is the opposite of what the crew was trying to convey with their themes.

Episode 4 and Episode 5

I still stand by what I said regarding how Episode 4 was a good episode, finally having a reunion between two members of Team RWBY, but it’s perhaps one of the last good things about RWBY we’ll ever see in Volume 5. Because Raven’s promise to tell Yang “the whole truth” turns out to just be regurgitated exposition at worst.

But first, we need to have Blake, the woman who doesn’t want her race to be labeled, turn out to have labels for her friends. Okay, granted, it’s not that dumb but it is kinda patronizing that we need to have a character tell us what another character is. While the rest of her speech is pretty effective in defining Blake’s character, making her perhaps the only character these themes of growth and strength actually apply to, it still is annoying that the most we take away out of this is her boiling down every character to a single word, then bringing up how Adam is going to ruin everything for the Faunus. You’ll see why this is a problem later. I liked the setting of Menagerie’s Shallow Sea marketplace thing and felt like Menagerie is wasted potential.

Ruby’s whole speech still feels like damage control, but with the added complaint of Ruby deciding to blame Salem for something Cinder did. Now, I heard the common excuse a lot: “Salem told Cinder to do it so it’s all her fault”, but that problem with that? Cinder told Emerald to kill Penny. So… Yeah. It is her fault. Hell, I wouldn’t have minded this if Ruby didn’t word it like Salem personally killed Penny and Pyrrha. Like as in, she just up and appeared out of nowhere and shot both Penny and Pyrrha in the head.

It still doesn’t fix the fact that Ruby is basically “hey, remember how I’m supposed to be upset?”

Lastly for Episode 5, we have the White Fang do the brilliant plant of murdering the chieftain who just spoke out against them. It’s dumb. Extremely dumb. What the hell do they think will happen after they murder the chieftain in cold blood? Menagerie is just gonna magically bend over and obey the White Fang? But perhaps the biggest waste is the White Fang in general.

You have these two sneaky fox brothers who seemingly oversee everything and even state that they’re only letting Adam do what he wants until he’s no longer of use to them, a buff bat dude, and a spider-lady… And they’re never seen again after this Volume. I get the idea, because RT is trying to wrap up the Faunus subplot as quickly as possible, but the problem that you can’t exactly introduce new characters or hidden depths if you’re just gonna throw them out with the bath water.

If they wanted to end the subplot, why did they put all the effort in some random characters that are just gonna be defeated off screen with a tea tray? Then again, this is a problem endemic to RWBY. Introduce this character, then quickly shoo them away before you’re committed to writing a plot for them. If you know you were going to half-ass the White Fang conclusion, why bother with stuff like more White Fang members or the SDC brand? In fact, why bother with the White Fang to begin with if you’re going to do so little with them?

Episode 6

Moving on before I lose my cool, we have Qrow aimlessly walking around downtown Mistral. Now, the crew said that Maria was supposed to be here… But… Why? What purpose would she serve? If she’s just gonna be a “hey, look, cameo to foreshadow Volume 6”, then that’s a horrible purpose. You know how most Cinematic Universes tanked because they spent more time hyping the next twenty movies when they should focus on their pilot? That’s what she would have been like.

Not to mention that she would have been caught in the crossfire of why Volume 5 was bad. “So here we have this random old lady who doesn’t matter at all to the plot so why is she even there” and then “Oh wow, she’s a SEW. They’re doing damage control to justify her unneeded presence in Volume 5”. And, don’t get me wrong, Maria is a fun lady and all that, but there needs to be a reason she was there beyond “hype for next Volume”.

What makes the problem worse was that they’re planning to include Maria so as to have a sort of Yoda to teach Ruby. This makes the complaint of “why didn’t Ruby ask about the Silver Eyes” even more of a complaint because now it seems like they decided “hey, we’re going to address it next volume, so let’s not bother bringing it up here”. Which is even worse than “hey, people noticed we didn’t address this so let’s completely invent this character for the sole purpose of addressing it!”

And then there’s Raven who is all “lol, I know more than you realize but I’m not actually gonna answer anything trolololololol” AARHG!

Okay. Okay. Before I completely lose my marbles, there’s one thing about the scene with Raven that’s stupid.

It’s the “there’s no such thing as magic” thing.

Okay. I get it. Turning into a bird is something that, in the world of RWBY, seems impossible. But there’s a ton of problems with this:

What makes summoning dead Grimm to fight for you so much more different than magic?

You’re willing to believe in magic rocks that augment your fighting style and are in fact part of a company that profits off magic rocks, yet turning into a bird is the messed up thing?

The guy who gave her this ability is currently inhabiting the body of a young boy and has said to basically devour his soul in due time, as well as create the magic that’s responsible for torching your school and your friend… And the BIRD is the most messed up thing!?

“But Raven made it sound like she was forced into it”. She didn’t seem to have any fucking problem with it though. Not only that, but it didn’t seem like a big dark secret that Ozpin wouldn’t want uncovered. In fact, he even said he gave Qrow and Raven the ability to turn into birds in an amused way.

Even more so when everyone but Yang seemed to respond to it with disbelief rather than outright anger. There’s a reason this whole bird issue was made fun of in Jello’s “So This is Basically RWBY” video.

Also, before we move onto Episode 7, I wanna bring up that the scene where Qrow visits the Shields is perhaps the reason why I hold Ozpin’s censorship of Lionheart’s role in the Battle of Haven to be one of the most scumbag moves he could have made. “Your mom’s dead, but don’t worry, the guy who sold her out is a hero!”

Episodes 7-10

Right, back to Episode 7. Okay, I’ll admit, it was a nice reunion scene all things considered, albeit with some rather unnerving things like Yang asking Weiss if she let the Boarbatusk skewer the trophy wife or even the dumb, patronizing “we haven’t made character arcs for us to go through so I’ll just say we had some”, since they had the great idea to use Ren, who is voiced by Monty’s brother, as the mouthpiece for that.

Unfortunately, this is the episode I always think back to when I think of Volume 5. The perfect epitome of a slow, monotonous Volume. The problem I have is that, yeah, it’s meant to be this breather episode, a calm before the storm, but this just feels like a long lull that’s made even more insulting with the cliffhanger. All it has is people dumping exposition that viewers have either figured out or weren’t even burning questions and I think the awkward silence that followed Ozpin saying how he was the wizard that gave the Maidens his power is the perfect epitome for just how boring the volume is. The dude just revealed a massive plot twist and it’s treated as nothing more than a “did you know” factoid.

While I liked how they addressed that Blake leaving Yang would have had some serious negative emotions in Yang, it felt rather half-assed that they basically resolved it with “hey, my mom’s drunk, so shut up and accept Blake the moment she comes back”, especially since it comes from Weiss, who told Blake at the end of Volume 1 that if she ever runs away again, she best let RWBY know. If they wanted to ship Bumblebee so badly, this would have been a great hurdle for them to come across instead of just “hey, let me resolve this plot for you”.

Now, the whole thing with Ilia… Let’s get the elephant out of the way. The way they revealed her sexuality, I feel, could have been done better. “You wanna know why I’m gonna kill your parents and bring you to your abuser? Because I wanted you to look at me like a lover!” There’s a reason why some fans label her as a “psycho lesbian”.

However, I want to bring up that Rooster Teeth did an excellent job at building tension during the climax of the Menagerie Arc. Sure, the cliffhangers were tiresome, but you couldn’t help but admit you were at the edge of your seat and it even did a good job at subversion. Even if they allegedly didn’t even intend for it to happen.

The constant dryness of exposition and dialogue exchanges is what made Episode 10 so much better than the other episodes. Not just because it’s action-orientated, but because it finally tries to get back to the themes that it was originally supposed to tell. Throughout the entirety of the middle portion of Volume 5, the group basically took a backseat and allowed characters and plots to happen to them rather than advocate for themselves. The closest thing we got to the theme of “building yourself back up” is Weiss talking to Yang about Blake.

In fact, the only actual characters taking action are the villains. Constantly roadblocking the cast, setting them in for a trap, and even aiming to screw each other over. These guys have more advocacy and agency than the main characters. The most any of them did was…

Burn down their own house and blamed everyone else for it, all while saying that the house is the message Adam wants to send.

Use a girl’s unrequited feelings towards them to their advantage, straddle them, and guilt tripped her enough for her to consider switching sides.

Cry about how things are not going their way until their hands start magically glowing.

Yelling at someone until they cry bitch tears and then have them run away without even bothering to close the door leading to the dangerous artifact everyone had been working so hard to keep out of enemy hands.

In the volume where the theme is “solving problems on our own”. Just because Yang drops the word strength a few times when bitching out at Raven doesn’t mean that the theme had been accomplished. In fact, they do nothing of their own accord and just follow a script. Even Ozpin, the supposed smartest guy in all of Remnant, doesn’t even bother to figure out a way to counter the trap. Just instead walk in. Hell, if Yang didn’t spot Raven, they’d be mulched.

But, back on track. Episode 9 was an entire waste that failed to pay off the expectations of what we had with the cliffhanger set up in Episode 7. “But it subverted your ex-” NO. There’s a good way to subvert expectations and being promised a fight after episodes of bland exposition only to have it be “lol, no, it’s just gonna be more talking” is not a good subversion.

No. Here’s a better way. Set up the cliffhanger like normal, but don’t show Cinder’s dragged out negotiation with Raven. Instead, have her “allying” with Cinder be a twist. That way, people’s expectations for what happened are actually, you know, subverted?

The Battle of Haven

But, you know where this is leading to… The Battle of Haven. Really, I don’t think I can say anything that hasn’t been covered by someone else. We all know it makes all the Vytal fights look like masterpieces by comparison, we all know the jokes about useless Weiss or Lionheart hogging the staircase, or even the plot holes of Raven knowing Cinder’s arm being Grimm but doing nothing about it or Blake, despite spending the past volume saying how Adam must be stopped, suddenly doesn’t care about him…

So let me cut it simply:

The reason this battle sucks might have to do with the crunch.

We don’t know how long this issue with Rooster Teeth had been going on for, but if it is indeed what people say it is and that animators don’t get paid for the last quarter or third of their work, then that might explain all the cut corners animators and writers made. Why the fights are broken up into one on ones or why fights are cut out entirely. Maybe they weren’t getting paid enough and thus, the quality of RWBY suffered as a result of it.

And that’s perhaps the shittiest thing about the Battle of Haven. It could have been this epic fight that would have made up for all the boring, drawn out scenes of exposition and chatting, but because Rooster Teeth got too greedy or even because of our own impatience (which, again, isn’t helped by the aforementioned long, drawn out scenes), we are treated to a final battle so broken and tiresome that the Battle of Winterfell manages to be a better final battle, with the only thing holding it back being that Haven had a better identity twist.

And if, for whatever reason, it isn’t due to crunch issues, then we have another problem. This was meant to be this hyped up rematch between the heroes and villains, who haven’t seen each other since the latter ruined the lives of the former. This would have been excellent to see how the killers of Jaune and Ruby’s friends would interact with them, how Yang would react to the person who framed her, even how the group had grown since their last battle…

But… if crunch wasn’t to blame for the quality dip and the writers intended for the fight to go the way it went… I have to say… What the fuck were they thinking!? So many moments could have been brought up here and yet they decided that they weren’t important enough to focus on! And now, with this battle over and done with, those moments lost their luster. If they decide to bring them up, it’d be too little, too late at best and “why the fuck are you bringing this up now” at worst.

I’ll deal with one commonly used example to get what I mean. Adam was established in Volume 3 to be a threat only made strong because he uses Blake’s emotions against her and has a Semblance that lets him dish out aura-breaking damage. Blake easily defeats Adam and has him on the ropes, only to let him run with a few excuses that some people have debated to death and back, when it would have been much easier for Blake to have to choose between apprehending Adam and helping Yang. Then, when he inevitably returns to haunt Blake next volume, suddenly he’s a threat that Blake is afraid of again despite Blake having “grown” to oppose him.

They wanted that “triumph” over him, but realize that by doing so, they’ve burned that opportunity to have the triumph be meaningful. Same goes with Emerald and Mercury. They had a good opportunity for Ruby to effectively call them out for their crimes like how Jaune did to Cinder, but instead she just headbutts Mercury. Yang had at least some closure on her arc with Mercury, but it was meh.

The Point in All of This

Hell, speaking of wasted opportunities, the reunion of Team RWBY, something that the opening had hyped and one that the fans had been waiting for since Volume 3 ended, is nothing more than an afterthought. They couldn’t even be assed to show Blake’s first fight back with Ruby and Weiss. That’s how little they cared. It’s like everyone was just wanting to get that paycheck but they needed to rush that final episode out the door and also need to make room for Gen:Lock and Nomad trailers. They didn’t even care about the stinger, as they basically ignored any sort of information relating to the stinger.

Perhaps the biggest reason why Volume 5 sucked so hard was that it was running off the heels of Volume 3. Everyone basically accepted that Volume 4 was meant to be a breather Volume, with lower stakes and lower drama (with the exception of possible death flags for Ren and Nora), but the moment they made Volume 5 the grudge match everyone wanted, then the stakes got raised back to the heights of the third Volume, only for it to fail to live up to the expectations. Sorry, I think I mean to say “subvert the expectations” in this day and age.

Though, I think the huge problem with all of this, and perhaps the biggest bottom line I can say, is that it might be due to Volume 3 going too over the edge. By killing important characters and even dividing the team, the villains had raised stakes up so high, that people began to take the show more seriously. When characters were vaguely hinted to die, be it through threats from the villains or even flashbacks, people fretted that they would die. When the villains go back to striking distance with the heroes, people desired a grand battle. When the show tried to deal with the ramifications that happened with RWBY separating, people wanted to know what was going through the characters’ heads.

And when Volume 5 failed to deliver/“subverted their expectations”, people considered it a bad volume.

But worst of all, it failed to live up to its own themes. Jaune was the only person to build himself back up again through deus ex hands, and we saw next Volume that it needed a statue for him to feel better. No one was in a position of giving up only to be defiant and shout “we’re not done here”, but instead cry “it wasn’t supposed to be like this!”. The big problem of Volume 5, make sure the relic is secure, is only solved because two characters had a catfight in the basement and the survivor didn’t bother to lock up because their daughter was too busy bitching at her. No one really grew or strengthened their resolve. The triumph… wasn’t theirs to have.

Although, it seems Rooster Teeth had learned from their mistakes, with Volume 6 being leaps and bounds better than Volume 5, regardless of what you thought of the latter half. Best of all, the themes promised in Volume 5 were shown prominently in Volume 6, albeit some of the scenes capitalizing on those themes feeling more like a child is having a tantrum because they couldn’t have the airplane.

To close out this rather long winded discussion, and to give people a tl;dr on the whole matter, Volume 5 failed to address the themes it had presented and instead just padded itself out, expecting people to accept it because it’s RWBY.

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter One

Main Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, swearing, sexual themes and sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Stand Unshaken

Ada knew she’d checked the locks on the doors. Twice. She knew she had. She knew they were locked.

But what if when she’d checked them the second time she’d accidentally unlocked one? Or all of them?

Blowing out a breath, she turned onto her back for the countless time in the last hour, brushing her curls away from her face with her forearm before settling her arm above her head.

Staring at the bed canopy, she drummed her finger tips against the pillow.

Go to sleep.

Usually it was fine. Some days she just had to check them once then that was it, she could sleep.

Some nights, she couldn’t.

One more time, then that’s it, I’ll really know.

Exhaling a long breath, she pushed the covers from her body and slid her legs off the bed, lowering her feet to the floor. The cold wood reminded her it was a ridiculous time of night to be doing this, but she soothed the silent argument with another one more time.

Fumbling for her robe from the back of her chair by the window, she tugged it on and wrapped the cord around her waist as she peered through the gap in the curtains. Lantern flames flickered in the town of Strawberry in the near distance, some dwindling in the late hour, and beyond the roofs of the furthest buildings the moon shone through the tall trees.

And there was no sign of any human movement anywhere.

Pushing her hair over her shoulder and rounding the bed, she found the doorknob and carefully opened the door. Avoiding where she knew the boards would creak, she moved quietly down the hallway, past Annie and her mother’s bedrooms, the doors firmly shut. They were both light sleepers but she had mastered the art of silent walking long ago, even in the dark knowing each step to take.

One hand found the banister as the other lifted her robe so she could begin descending the stairs.

Her foot landed on the bottom step when she heard it.

Pausing, she stopped breathing, straining to place the sound in the distance.

Is that thunder? 

The newspaper had warned of an incoming storm─

Rapid gun fire echoed up from the valley of the town.

Ada’s eyes widened as her head snapped up.

Oh, Lord, please, no...

Floorboards creaked above her but it was an inconsequential sound compared to the screaming, yelling and gun shots that started to rise.

Move.

Darting forward, she grabbed the Repeater propped by the front door and pressed her back to the wall by the nearest window. Lifting the curtain, she peered out. She could only make out glimpses of the frenzied movement occurring below, the house situated too far up the hill behind the town to get a clear picture─

Oh, God.

Flickering lights started to grow larger, rising up the hill. 

“Miss!”

Jolting, Ada spun to see Annie running down the stairs, gripping the skirt of her nightdress, her eyes wide.

“Annie, get back up─”

“Miss, what’s happenin’?”

Reaching out to her, Ada gripped her forearm, holding her steady as she stumbled on the last step. “I think there’s an attack on the town, Annie, I need you─ Annie, look at me, please.” She gripped her arm a little tighter when the other woman whimpered, trying to regain her full attention as Annie tried to look over her shoulder, managing to catch her gaze. “Annie, I need you to take Mama down the back stairs and to the barn, the noise should have woken Adam, he’s probably already getting the horses ready, so I need you both to take Mama away, all right? I need you to all get away.”

Annie nodded several times, her eyes still wide in terror. “Yes, Miss, I will, I─ Wait, Miss, where’re you gonna go?”

“I’m going to get you some time.” Ada quickly continued as Annie whimpered again and opened her mouth to interrupt, “You remember the place we all talked about, don’t you? The one past the dam? I’ll meet you all there, all right? I won’t be long.”

She waited until Annie nodded before she released her, gently pushing her towards the stairs. “Good, go on.”

Turning as soon as she knew she was running back up the stairs, Ada returned to the window, her heart thumping in her chest as the lights drew nearer, so near she could start to make out the shapes of the people carrying them: five men. Men with hoods concealing their faces and guns in their hands.

Calm down, calm down, focus.

“Ada? Ada, darling?!”

She ignored her mother’s calls, ignored the tugging they drew at her heart. She could hear Annie gently coaxing her towards the backstairs, and focused on the men. They were walking up the path now and she didn’t move, knowing the darkness of the house would keep the little of her face peering out hidden. For the next few minutes.

Drawing back the hammer on the Repeater, she clenched her jaw as she adjusted her grip, blowing out a slow breath.

Then, they paused, the one on the far left nudging the man beside him. All their heads turned. Her brow started to dip, when she suddenly realised.

They started to run in the same moment she did.

Running through the family room to the kitchen, she swiftly withdrew the bolts that kept the back door locked and wrenched it open. Racing out, she ignored the cold, wet mud that clung to her bare feet as she ran along the dirt path.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the barn, the wagon rolling out of it carrying her mother, Annie and Adam. Adam was trying to gain control of the two horses pulling the wagon, tugging at the reins and murmuring to them as they danced about, jittery from the noise and each other, their ears twitching.

Ada tried to run faster, seeing the men, closer than she was, approaching the barn in her peripheral vision. She couldn’t look at them, though, if she did then something might happen to her family, she couldn’t look away, she couldn’t look away, don’t look away─

Gunshots fired, and it was as if they tore through her. She came to a juddering halt, her eyes wide. Adam fell first, his white hair blinding against the dark of the night. She heard Annie scream, before it was suddenly cut short. Then her mother stood, her head and shoulders appearing above the sides of the wagon.

Ada wanted to scream out to her. She wanted to tell her to get down, to stop being so foolish, get down, Mama, please, please, please─

Gunshots rang out, and then there was silence.

Run.

A voice in her brain was screaming at her but the message didn’t reach down to her feet. A cold numbness swept over her body as the men approached the bodies but she couldn’t look away from the wagon. Couldn’t look at the men. Couldn’t look at the bodies.

Run.

The men were looking over them, searching pockets, taking things from them.

For God’s sake, run.

One of the men lifted his head.

A bullet whizzed past her shoulder and she jolted back into her body.

They saw her.

Before she knew it, she was running. Back towards the house, around it, down the path. She could hear them calling after her, taunting, laughing.

Irish voices.

Oh, God, no...

She forced herself to just focus on how far away the voices were and that they weren’t shooting at her.

She didn’t slow as she ran down the hill. Screams from the centre of town and gun fire started to overtake from the noise of the men chasing her, and, rounding down the bottom of the path, she froze suddenly, her senses assaulted by the sight before her.

Flames and smoke billowed up from various buildings, making the air thick and heavy. People were running and shouting, some trying to fight back, others fleeing in every direction. She had to swiftly lunge to the side to avoid a horse that suddenly appeared from the depths of the thick smoke and raced past her, it’s eyes rolling as it screamed.

God help us all, this is going to be a massacre.

The yells of the men behind her as they also dodged the horse had her running again, taking advantage of what she could. 

She ran into the smoke and haze.

The main source of activity seemed to be coming from the Sheriff’s office, so she turned right before the bridge, running past the doctor’s office. The door was wide open but before she could look a man knocked against her shoulder as he stumbled past her and she turned her head, reaching out to him to warn him that he was heading into more danger when he collapsed, and she saw the blood soaking the back of his shirt, spilling out into the mud.

“Hey, girlie, where’re you goin’?”

Inhaling sharply at the voice behind her, Ada turned, gripping the Repeater with both hands.

A man, his face unconcealed, grinned at her. Soot and flecks of blood covered his skin, but his green eyes shone brightly. “What’ve you got there, girlie? You got a gun?”

His Irish accent was gentle, maybe in another time and another place soothing, but his gaze on her was hard, unyielding. A hunter with it’s prey.

Raising the gun, aiming at his chest, she grit her teeth in an attempt to stop her voice from shaking. “Stop. Don’t come any closer.”

Pure delight spread across his features as he raised his hands.

“Oh, c’mon now, that’s no way to welcome someone to your town, is it, darlin’?” He took a sudden step closer, making her recoil a step back in return, nearly slipping in the mud. “I’ve had a long, hard day and I just want to have a chat with a pretty girl, all righ’?”

“Don’t come near me, please.”

“‘Please’? Oh, darlin’...” He started to lower his hands, his grin still wide. “I do like hearin’ you beg─”

She squeezed the trigger.

The gun kicked back slightly, knocking against her cheekbone, but she barely felt it. The man made a strange, groaning sound. Looking down, he appeared dumbfounded as his hand pressed over the hole in his chest.

“You bitch...” He almost slurred the words as he looked up at her. “... You shot me. You fuckin’ bitch.”

He went for his gun.

She squeezed the trigger again. He fell to the ground with a harsh, choking sound, his arms and legs splaying out. She kept the gun trained on his chest as she stared down at him, watching his body twitch. Then, he stilled.

She didn’t move, breathing hard.

An explosion near the Sheriff’s office made her jump and finally tear her gaze away from the corpse.

Keep moving.

Lowering the gun, Ada went to take a step and swiftly stopped herself. Keep moving where? She didn’t know when the screaming and gunfire stopped, but  the town was quiet, eerily so. She could hear voices from somewhere but they were calm, conversational. She started moving away from them, quickening into a run when she heard a separate set of voices to the right of her; men coming down the south path. She ran to the cabin on the bank of the river, crouching low as she moved to the front door.

Opening it an inch or two, she quickly assessed the room, finding it, mercifully, as empty as it had been for the past few weeks. Stepping in and closing the door behind herself as quietly as possible, she kept low, leaning down on one knee, and peered out of the nearest window. Buildings were still burning, keeping the town covered in a blanket of smoke.

She couldn’t see a damn thing.

Ducking down again, she pressed her back against the wall, keeping the gun tight against her chest. She took a moment to debate her options; wait until they were gone, if they ever did leave, or try and escape now and risk being seen?

Think, think, think.

If she could get into the cover of the trees, she could lose them if she was seen, but, no, she still needed to actually get out of the town. Exhaling sharply, she closed her eyes, mentally mapping out the town and its exits in her mind. 

The stream.

Yes, she could follow the water down by walking along the bank, it’d be freezing but she could round the bottom─

A door opened.

She was on her feet in seconds, gun raised.

A man paused in the door way, his hands instantly raising. “Woah, miss, easy.”

He was an American, but so had been one of the men who’d chased her. He didn’t have a hood on, but there was a black bandanna tied around his neck. Her gaze quickly darted behind him, seeing a window in the room behind him open. Why would he come in discreetly if he was part of the gang? Then again, she didn’t recognise him and this was a damn small town. And the guns strapped to his waist spoke for themselves─

“Easy, miss, it’s all righ’. I’m not with them.”

Her gaze flicked back to meet his. He probably had practically seen her mind racing, debating.

“It sure looks that way,” she countered, her finger hovering over the trigger.

He kept his eyes on her, not moving a muscle, and it should have bolstered her that he was taking her seriously but it just made him harder to gauge.

“I’m not. They’re the O’Driscoll’s, ma’am. I don’t doubt you’ve heard of ‘em.”

Ada inhaled a shaking breath but her hand didn’t tremble as she kept the gun trained on him. 

Yes, she’d heard of them.

Swallowing thickly, she adjusted her grip on the Repeater. “Who are you, then? A bounty hunter?”

A laugh escaped him, a short, rough sound. “No, ma’am, I am not.”

“I take it you’re not a lawman of any kind.”

“No.”

“Answer my question, then.”

He regarded her for a moment or two before finally speaking. “I’m Arthur Morgan, I’m with the Van der Linde Gang.”

Oh, them she’d also heard of.

She lifted her chin slightly, her gaze flicking over him once more. “I read about you in the paper. I read about what you all did in Blackwater, what you’ve done.”

“Have you now?”

“You’ve all got a high price on your heads. Especially Mr van der Linde.”

One corner of his mouth lifted slightly, something having amused him. “Yes, we do.”

“Why should I believe you’re any different than the O’Driscoll’s?”

The amusement vanished. “’cause we actually got morals, unlike these animals. Dutch always says feed people as needs feedin’, save people as needs savin’... I think you need savin’, miss.”

The words were out of her mouth before he’d even finished his sentence. “I’m fine.”

His eyebrows rose. “With all due respect, you ain’t. We ain’t the best of people but we’re better than them.”

It was now her turn to regard him. ’Gentleman Dutch’, an article had once called the notorious outlaw, in exterior alone above and beyond─

A gunshot sounded from the other side of town, making her jump and Arthur stiffened, though, thankfully, her finger was no longer over the trigger. His hands lowered as he looked out the window behind her, his jaw moving.

“Miss, I’m gonna need you to make a decision.”

She stared at him. She thought of Adam, of Annie, of her mother, of the people of this town, if there even were any left.

She had no choice.

She made her decision.

Lowering the gun, Ada clenched her jaw. “Shall we go out the front door or the window?”

“Down.”

“What─”

He lunged towards her, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her down. Yelping, the gun dropped from her hands as she fell to the floor, Arthur leaning over her as the window above them shattered and glass rained down upon them.

Bullets exploded into the room and she could hear the sound of them embedding into the wall opposite.

“Shit,” Arthur hissed under his breath, his arms trapping her in, keeping her down.

Once the glass had stopped falling, he moved away from her and into a crouch. Pulling the guns from the holsters at his waist, he peered over the shards still in place before quickly ducking down again, a bullet flying past him.

“God damn it...”

She looked away from him as he started to fire back, her gaze slowly falling to the glass surrounding her.

Focus on this. Work out how to get through this.

Carefully shifting her feet under her, Ada ignored the slight jolts of pain of some of the shards biting into her. Reaching her hands out, she pressed them down onto a clear space of floor, dug her toes into the ground and gently pushed herself forward, trying to stay down as she moved. Retreating behind a counter, she pressed against it, her gaze finally returning to the man.

Arthur was still shooting back but they both knew they were overwhelmed, the bullets battering against the cabin making that very clear.

Ducking down to reload his guns, he looked over at her, assessing her.

“We’re gonna need to run.”

“I know.” She couldn’t help the slight bite to her tone.

“These feller’s ain’t gonna let us go easy.”

“I know,” she repeated, arching an eyebrow. “So, what’s the plan? You get yourself out of these things all the time.”

The gunfire ceased.

Matching her expression, he then peered over the edge of the window again. “Well, ma’am. That I do.”

Holstering his guns, he opened a satchel she hadn’t previously noticed around him. Searching in it, he pulled what looked like some sort of red tube from it.

Then, when he removed a pack of matches, she realised very quickly that it was not just a red tube.

“That’s not exactly subtle,” she protested, even as she crawled across the floor to the room this man had first appeared out of.

“Yeah, well, sometimes you need a distraction.” Shifting to his knees, Arthur glanced at her as he struck a match against the floor. “Get ready to run.”

Lighting the stick of dynamite, he hurled it out of the shattered window in the same moment she rose to her feet. Running through the door and across the room, narrowly avoiding striking her hip against the bedpost, she pulled herself through the window, Arthur right behind her.

Jumping over the fence on the back porch, Ada ran towards the river, her original though not thought out plan the only thing in her mind. She heard Arthur still behind her, following, and didn’t know whether to be glad or terrified that he apparently hadn’t thought of the next step whilst she had.

Arthur caught hold of her upper arm when she stumbled as the dynamite exploded and the ground shook, and started hauling her over the rocks.

She ignored the sound of wood cracking apart and shouting as she ran, the sharp edges of the rocks biting at her bare feet and cold water soaking her legs and robe, though Arthur’s firm hold on her kept her upright and moving. Finally reaching the grass of the hill, he released a short, sharp whistle as he started to pull her up it. She heard the faint whinny of a horse and her gaze darted about the treeline. Then, a black horse broke through the bushes and cantered towards them, tossing it’s head.

Gripping the back of the saddle and pommel as the horse came to a stop, Arthur pulled himself up, staring across at the path leading to the town as he settled in the saddle.

“Come on.” Holding his arm out to her, he pulled her up behind him once she took hold of his forearm. “Hold on.”

Seizing the sides of his coat just in time, Ada held on tightly as Arthur pushed the horse into a canter, guiding it down the hill and across the stream. Once over, he urged the horse into a gallop, taking them down the main road. The horse was fast, but her heart was still pounding. Would they have men patrolling the outskirts of the town in case anyone tried to leave or arrive? Would they come after them?

They soon came to the Dakota River, a bridge holding a train track high up to their right. Slowing the horse a little, he guided it towards the river. A quiet, involuntary sound left her as cold water, kicked up by the horse’s canter, fell upon her feet and legs, making the robe and nightdress underneath cling to her skin.

She chanced a glance over her shoulder. No one was following them, yet.

On the other side of the river, Arthur kicked the horse back into a gallop, taking them down the path to their right.

“They comin’?”

His voice took her by surprise and irritated her slightly, as if being silent was what was keeping them safe. Ada looked over her shoulder again, finding the road empty.

“No. I can’t see anyone.”

“All right. We might’ve lost ‘em, then.” With a gentle pull on the reins and a quiet murmur, he brought the horse down to a trot, patting the snorting animal’s neck. Rolling his shoulders, he exhaled a short breath. “Keep an eye out, though. They could send two or three.”

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the path behind them. They both fell silent, the only sound the horse’s hooves against the dirt and the occasional whistling of birds in the trees.

“What’s your name, miss?”

Oh, Lord.

It was a valid question, but it startled her.  

“Annie Sawyer,” she lied smoothly.

He may have claimed to have morals and be treating her kindly now but who knew what him and his gang would do if they found out who she was. Well, she could probably take a pretty good guess.

“All right, Miss Sawyer, I’m gonna take you to where my gang is hidin’ out, okay?”

“Where are they?”

“Now, I ain’t gonna tell you but I ain’t gonna blindfold you, all right?”

Her jaw moved. “Fine.”

Wonderful. That’s probably a great sign of trust to him.

“We ain’t gonna be able to stop at any point, I don’t want anyone associatin’ us with what happened back there and I don’t wanna give ‘em a chance to lead ‘em back to my people.”

“Okay.”

“All right.”

She tightened her grip on his coat once more as he urged the horse back into a gallop, leaving behind the smouldering remains of Strawberry and her home in the distance.

Comments, reblogs and likes make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in this series!

Questions?

I have literally no idea who to tag for this, so if you don’t like/reblog/comment I’ll untag you next week, no worries at all!!

Tagged: @sergeantangel​, @belfry-bat​ 

[alyssa-orowane]

Fantasy tropes to avoid (and ideas to reinvent them)

Hello aspiring writers of Tumblr! How is it going?

This is my first post on here and I decided to dedicate it not only to the genre I am writing in, fantasy, but also to a crucial topic, which relates and affects every genre in different ways.

TROPES.

It's lazy to build stories on something that has already been written a million times before. I don't like tropes at all as a reader. If I wanted to read the same stereotyped story all over again I would just stick to the previous book I have read with that same plot, so I would also spare myself the trouble of learning the unpronounceable names of these new stereotyped characters.

On the other hand, as a writer it might be tempting to give in and use tropes. "Why not? After all everybody uses them and I am already SO busy writing the actual chapters of my story."

I tell you what: every time a trope threatens to slide into your story, crush the page and throw it across the room, yelling:

Seriously, though: tropes are just general, undeveloped ideas. That's what you need to do, develop them. In this way only will you ever be able to unleash their hidden potential.

Without further ado, may I present you three of the most common fantasy tropes and hints to reimagine them.

*Keep in mind that this is only my personal view on the subject and you can either agree or disagree with it.

1. The chosen one

This one is the most obvious one and I am also quite sure that you expected to find it on the list. Interesting, Watson: I guess that it makes this article stereotyped too…

Well we all know those characters. Those characters that were meant to be the one. The prophecies had spoken about them long before they were even born. They might as well be the only one capable of using magic or wielding a certain weapon. This character is either the only one who pushes forward the storyline or that one protagonist who does everything except choosing anything actively in the plot. There is no in between. Either way, they only possess notable qualities. Of course there is no trace of flaws. I mean, they are the hero.

Have a side-kick (or co-protagonist) be the chosen one instead

A great idea, if you really want to insert this trope in your story, is to use it to your advantage and surprise the reader with it. Who could ever expect that the protagonist was actually never the chosen one? Or that another character is the chosen one from the start?

To see this trope well recreated I recommend watching the BBC TV series "Merlin" in which a young sorcerer, Merlin himself, must help the future heir to the throne, the prince Arthur Pendragon, to fulfill his destiny and become the greatest king who has ever lived. Arthur has no clue of what has been foretold, nor that he even is at the centre of a prophecy. All of Merlin and Arthur's choices will determine either the glorious success or the tragic failure of the quest; all of this while Merlin hides his powers from Arthur and everyone else as magic is condemned in Camelot.

2. Overused fantasy Races

...which translates mostly into putting Elves, Dwarves, Trolls, dragons and any of the Tolkenian elements and creatures in your own story. Now, don't get me wrong. Tolkien is one of my favourite authors, hence I am always captivated by those fantasy novels that display these Races in their stories. But I don't want to read a copy, I want to read your own masterpiece.

That's exactly why you should:

Redesign the well-known fantasy Races and adapt them to your world and to your theme or just create brand new ones

Personally, I absolutely LOVE to craft new fantasy Races. I believe that it adds depth and realism to the world-building (which does not consist only of geography). Each civilisation brings their culture, their traditions to your story and that's what makes a world truly breathe. In my opinion, the purpose of fantasy is not to focus just on the epic deeds narrated or on endless battles enriched with magic and legends, though those are very important part of this genre and they must be just as equally developed. The reason why I write fantasy is to spread awareness around the vast variety of themes that coexist in our society nowadays, in the first place global warming, the racism that still today people experience, LGBTQ characters which are often unrepresented both in literary fiction and TV. What better genre than fantasy is there to represent diversity and multiculturalism? On these latter points I will never not be thanking and loving the works of Steven Erikson which are part of the high-fantasy series "Malazan Book of the Fallen". Diversity and the brand new variety of intriguing Races are a huge part of what makes Malazan such an awesome fantasy series. I refer to Steven Erikson as the main inspiration of my writing and I recommend you to give a try to his books, if you have the chance. I warn you though, that it is not any light or easy reading.

The other option might be to reinvent the well-known Races. Tolkien himself did not "invent" the Elves of Middle Earth, rather he made a legend of his own after having studied the myths and ballads of ancient civilities. Then he developed their language, their history and their culture as if they were a real existing population. Every single aspect of Tolkien's worldbuilding can be read in his Silmarillion. I think it is a must-read for anyone who is looking forward to reinvent the traditional fantasy Races or just to know more about them.

3. Unfailing magic systems

Magic can be anything you want. That doesn't mean, however, that it should be your escape point: stuff in your story should happen because of your characters, not only because of magic as it is simpler to put it that way. A magic system should be rational and engaging. The reader needs to be able to understand exactly how, when and why does magic work in your world. No, the answer should not be "because it's fantasy."

Set rules, limits and costs to the magic in your world

How do character gain magic abilities? Is magic accessible to everyone or is it elitist? Is it taught in specialised schools or is it something that resonates from within? Are wizards free to practice magic or is it banned? Or maybe are there only specific areas of magic that are prohibited? What is its source? Does magic come from higher beings or are spells more powerful the stronger the mage's will? Does magic need a catalyst (such as a talisman, a weapon etc.) to be casted? If not, do wizard recite spells? Do they need to trace specific symbols? Otherwise is it necessary to make specific hand gestures in order to release their powers? Does it exist only one system for all mages to use or are there multiple kinds? Last but not least, what are magic users in your world called? It's all up to you to decide. Ask questions and let each question lead you to another one. You need to know exactly how your magic system works and so does the reader.

What I love about crafting magic systems is the freedom to establish the boundaries and the natural laws that apply to your world, as magic is a huge part of the story if you're writing fantasy. Well, this could also lead to another question: is your world actually ruled by magic forces or do magic abilities have just a marginal role in the world building?

Remember that magic should not be used as an excuse to fill eventual plot holes in your story. Your magic system should function correctly and it should always stay true to itself. In other words, it must be believable.

And I can hear you thinking "but it‘s magic!"

Then guess what? You need to make the readers believe that magic is real!

First of all, set the rules, the limits and the costs that apply to your system. Having done that, you'll have finished most of the work that concerns the use of magic in your world. Most, not all. If you are a bit of a perfectionist like I am, consider the importance of developing your system furthermore by asking yourself questions, such as the one I have written above.

Rules: decide what makes your system work and what magic can be casted for.

Limits: decide what kind of tasks your magic system cannot perform.

Costs: decide from what kind of source is magic obtained from and, literally, what does it cost to mages to obtain their magic from this source (as Rumpelstiltskin of OUAT wisely says: "all magic comes with a price.")

The most excellent and well-rounded magic systems I have ever come across are the ones created by Brandon Sanderson in this "Mistborn" trilogy: allomancy, feruchemy and hemalurgy. All three magic system permit the magicians to use a wide range of abilities based on the metals they can "burn". Magic originates in the Shards and from Preservation and Ruin, two god-like beings. If you're already interested, I definitely recommend you to check Sanderson's novels out: they are a useful resource of inspiration.

I hope this post has somehow given you the inspiration to go and write right now. 
If you have questions about some of the points or requests for the next articles, don't be shy and send me a message! I will try to cover your topic as soon as possible and as best as I can (and I will also tag your profile, if you agree). 
Thank you all for your attention. Bisous^^

[asoiafdrabbles]

II.27

Elia joins Lyanna in Dorne. 

Elia/Lyanna/Rhaegar (Elia and co survive the Rebellion)

The approaching horses made everyone tense. There were too many for it to be Rhaegar returning, and too soon for that. Looking closer, they found both Targaryen and Martell banners and relaxed just a little. If it were one or the other, they might still fear for their safety, Lyanna's especially, she knew.

"Elia," she breathed out, once she saw one of the people at the front of the group.

She moved towards her, feeling more like she was waddling than anything else, and saw that strapped to Elia's chest was a bundle that must be Aegon. Next to her was Oberyn, who looked little-changed from how he had been at the Tourney at Harrenhal, and in front of him on the horse was Rhaenys.

Arthur helped Elia dismount and then the two women were clutching their hands together, grinning weakly.

"Have you stopped traveling since leaving the Red Keep? You look exhausted!" Lyanna frowned in worry, glancing at the men that had accompanied her co-wife.

Shaking her head, Elia handed Aegon off to the single woman who must have been his nurse. "We could not. Either the Stormlords might have found us or the King's men. We could not risk either."

"We'll be setting out again in the morning," Oberyn stated, looking around the tower in trepidation. "This is not easy to defend for long and having both princesses and your children here--"

"Lyanna shouldn't travel," Oswell interrupted, narrowing his eyes at Oberyn.

"The babe is not due for more than a moon, there are women who ride up until birth," Lyanna protested, all-but pouting at Oswell, chafing under his overprotective nature.

Elia gave a gentle smile. "It is true, Lya is not like me, Ser Oswell, if anyone can manage to travel while in this state, it would be our she-wolf."

The Kingsguard looked torn, but between Elia and Lyanna there wasn't much they could protest.

"We'll need the midwife to agree," Arthur finally stated. "If she does, we'll head to Starfall."

Oberyn agreed to that, clearly wanting to get deeper into Dorne, and they settled into the tower, Oswell dutifully following behind Lyanna up the stairs. Starfall would probably mean more stairs, from what she knew of it and how tall the Dornish liked to build, and she longed for Winterfell once more.

Elia insisted on staying in the same room as Lyanna and having the children with them.  It was just for one night, after all, and they had much to discuss. Arthur gave them a knowing look, but everyone moved about to their own rooms or back to their guard duties without complaint.

"You saw Rhaegar before leaving?"

"Yes, just before. I had gotten word from my brother that he was returning and Rhaegar had spoken to a merchant he knew that assisted in smuggling us out. I met my brother and then we came directly here."

Grimacing, Lyanna thought about how that must have been. Going through Robert's territory would have terrified her, and she was arguably the one that had wronged him most.

"You're safe, now. Rhaegar will speak with Ned and get him to withdraw his forces, then Robert will have no choice but to surrender or be overwhelmed in battle." She spoke with far more confidence than she felt. "And then Rhaegar will call a Great Council and have Aerys removed. We'll be Queens." She laughed through the last part, trying to imagine herself in courtly dresses and politicking like a Southron.

Elia, too, laughed. "As if we both know you won't find ways to avoid the responsibilities of that," she teased, then sobered, setting her hand on Lyanna's belly. "Rhaegar thinks you'll have a daughter. That he'll make my Aegon marry both his sisters."

"Let's hope for a boy, then. He needs to be proven wrong more often, it's good for men."

"I can only hope that my brothers face that a few more times, then."

They put the children to sleep, Lyanna watching Elia as she tenderly saw to Rhaenys and tried to alleviate her fears of being in such a strange new place. She hoped she'd learn to be such a good mother. Even though she knew of plenty of women who had started younger, sometimes Lyanna felt so unprepared. Her mother had died when she was so young, she didn't know what they were supposed to be like.

"What are you brooding over?" Elia whispered to her, after they'd curled up next to one another on the small bed of Lyanna's tower room.

"Nothing," she lied. "Just wondering what the rest of Dorne is like. The Prince's Pass and this tower are all I've seen."

"Starfall is lovely, I may need to worry about getting you to leave. And from there, once you and the babe can, we'll head to Sunspear or perhaps straight on to the Water Gardens. It's cooler there."

Lyanna groaned. "Cooler. That sounds amazing. My poor babe, having to deal with all this heat."

"My poor wolf maiden, you still haven't shed your winter coat." Elia chuckled, pressing closer. "You'll adjust. You're too adventurous not to. I'm glad I found you first, or I fear my brother might have stolen you away."

"Oberyn? Please, he's hardly as impressive as you."

"Flatterer."

In the morning, they set out for Starfall, Arthur easily leading the way. Rhaenys grumbled some, and Aegon cried throughout the trip, making all of the women and not a few of the men fuss over him the whole time, which only made Rhaenys worse.

By the time they reached the castle, they were all exhausted and more than ready for their break. Arthur's father saw them into a private section and sent the maester to Lyanna immediately to check on her.

"No activity from this point forward," he said, severely. "You may feel fine now, but that doesn't mean your babe is."

While Lyanna might have protested for herself, fear for her future child held her back. "You'll stay with me, won't you Elia? Throughout this."

"Of course I will. From now on, we'll be together. No matter what."

[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Musings #77: The Puppet Who Wanted to be a Real Girl. Is Penny Polendina really back?

jade-rosepine asked “ While I didn't mind penny and all, I can't help asking; what was the point of bringing her back? I mean yeah wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. Only thing I could think of was to make ruby be forced to make a difficult choice - kill a friend to keep her from being used by the villians (she is still a robot and could, theoretically, be hacked by a way more advanced virus. Basically the cyber-version of brainwashing or possession!) OR let her live and be a slave to the baddies?”

Squiggles Answers: 

@jade-rosepine​ Whelp I was going to save this bit for my musing on the first episode of RWBY V7, but since you brought it up, I might as well voice my thoughts here. I’m going to be honest with you, fam. This squiggle meister has mixed feelings about Penny’s return.

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Heart of Machine

In the past, I was a big fan of the idea of Penny being rebuilt and returning for the Atlas Arc. However back then, I liked it under the pretence that she wouldn’t exactly be the same Penny Polendina that we all met back in V1. I figured she’d be an entirely different character and the justification for her being this way was so that the plot could’ve allowed for Ruby Rose to finally have some semblance of closure since it’s been shown throughout previous seasons how much Penny’s death has affected her emotionally.

As a matter of fact, as evidenced by her ‘Indomitable’ moment in V6, Penny’s death (along with Pyrhha’s and the events of the Fall of Beacon) are still a visible mental block to Ruby being able to fully utilize her Silver Eyes. Since Ruby was shown to still have much growing with mastering her unique power, I was hoping that part of her arc for this season would be coming to terms over her loss over Penny as I was certain being within her old friend’s home kingdom was bound to bring back memories of their time together.

Now I’m not so sure whether or not closure with Penny will still be in the cards for Ruby. It’s not he fact that Penny returned that troubles me. It’s the fact that she returned and is presumably supposed to still be her old self but fixed now. I’m sorry but I’m just not actively buying that at all. I mean, like you, I get that this feat wasn’t entirely impossible to do given that Penny was a robot and technology can be easily repaired; especially in a kingdom as technologically advanced as Atlas and especially by the hands of Pietro Polendina---the man who was literally described as the Greatest Mind in the kingdom. So yeah, Penny returning--- totally could have seen that coming. But that don’t mean I’m not heavily suspicious about it knowing these writers.  I still feel like there’s something’s awfully fishy about this whole plot twist.

This brings me to my hunch about Penny 2.0. I don’t believe that that’s Penny. I mean, she is her. She looks like her (albeit with a more updated design that is reminding me a lot of Bach Do’s design of her from her RWBY 3.0 art series). Talks like her and of course, acts like her. But I feel like this version of Penny is merely a shadow of the soul she once was. I still feel like the old Penny that Ruby befriended perished at the Fall of Beacon and what we’re seeing now before us is just a copy mimicking the behaviour of its original predecessor.

When Penny 2.0 first appeared, after getting over my initial shock and excitement of seeing the character again, I couldn’t help but shake this icky feeling in my gut that something was off about the new Penny. I know the series is trying to get me to think that Penny is back here but…I don’t know. I’m not entirely buying it. I feel like something is awry about this and not even her bright and shining smile in the opening is enough to quell my lingering suspicion. I can’t help but feel like something is going to happen to Penny…again.

Perhaps your theory will be correct here Jade. Perhaps it will be a case where Arthur Watts creates and implants his strongest computer virus yet into Atlas’ system which not only corrupts all the Atlesian Battle Droids in Atlas but all technology within the whole kingdom; Mantle included. This is inclusive of Penny 2.0 and possibly even Pietro Polendina’s mechanical wheelchair which goes haywire and knocks the poor old soul man off of his seat leading to Maria Calavera having to defend him and help him to safety.

Perhaps it will come down to Ruby having to fight an infected Virus Penny 2.0. However I don’t think Ruby will be forced to kill Penny. I think a moment like this will boil down to what’s stronger---hardware and programming or the soul.

It was stated back in V2 that Penny is the first (and possibly only one) of her kind. The first artificial lifeform to produce an aura. As we know, aura is described as the manifestation of one’s soul. Penny is supposed to be a soul within the body of a machine. While her body may be synthetic, at her core, she is supposedly human or the closest thing to it.

And since the V7 opening hinted at love being a major theme for this volume, it makes me wonder if we’re going to get a potential moment where a mind-controlled Virus Penny tries to harm Ruby but in the end, it’s the strength of the profound friendship shared between both girls that ultimately allows for Penny to combat the virus corrupting her machine software with the love she feels in her soul for her dear friend. Y’know love conquers all.

I wouldn’t even be too surprised if it’s a case where Penny ends up sacrificing herself to put a stop to Watts’ tyranny. Like Penny uses her core to cause a chain reaction that obliterates Watts’ powerful virus.

Dr. Polendina mentioned in the first episode that the only reason he was able to fix Penny in the first place is because Atlas was able to salvage her core from Amity Arena. Penny’s core is obviously an important part to her. I’m assuming it’s the part of her that contains the soul that’s keeps her alive. So no matter how many times Penny’s body is destroyed, so long as her core is still intact, she can be brought back. Why mention that little detail at all if it wasn’t going to be relevant later, ey?

What if … Penny’s core does eventually get destroyed. If that gets obliterated, then Penny---or at least the version of her that Ruby knew and loved--- will be gone for good this time.

I feel like the V7 finale could set up for a Terminator II type of conclusion where the machine our protagonist has grown to know and love over the course of their story is forced to sacrifice itself for the greater good of saving our hero from a dark fate. I feel like should your headcanon be made reality in the canon, we’re likely to see Penny sacrifice herself on the grounds that this time, there’s no coming back.

I can imagine Penny’s core being used as the key to stopping Watts reign over Atlas and this time, Ruby is allowed to do what she couldn’t do back in Vale. Not only would she get to save Penny but she would also get to officially say goodbye to her friend and tell her how much she loved her before tearfully watching her give herself up for the purpose she was built to do---save the world.

That’s how I’m more seeing things going down for Ruby and this newly rebuilt of Penny for their shared storylines this season. As per usual, these are only my headcanons here and I can very well be very much wrong in my prediction. But nevertheless, for now, I’m leaving this thought and theory on the table.

Then again, I’ve also gotten ahead of myself here.

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More Machine Than Man

Now that I’ve discussed how I figured Ruby and Penny’s story may conclude for V7, allow to me to voice my views on the build up to it.

As I’ve said, I feel very off about Penny being back. While I’m relishing in seeing her again, I also can’t feel a sense of this is too good to be true; y’know what I mean?

I feel like this is all a set-up. Like right now, both the audience and our main gaggle of heroes are left to believe that Penny had returned and she’s all good as new---almost like she never died at all, right?

But I feel like there’s a catch to that. I feel like at some point, in a later chapter of V7, Ruby is going to have her chance to spend some quality time catching up with Penny. At first, things seem pretty normal between them. They’re both laughing. Swapping stories…having a grand ole time with their heart to heart girl talk…only for Ruby to notice something quite off about Penny.

Like I have this scene imagined in my head. A scenario in which Ruby is supposed to head back down to Mantle to hang out with Penny P who’s finally have some free time to catch up with her old friend and desires to take Ruby on an official fun tour of Mantle---the nicer parts that is.

As a matter of fact, let’s say Penny invites the whole squad---JNPR_RWBY down for a night of fun and dancing down in Mantle with her and father. Pietro did mention in the first episode that he’s been working on shows that dance. Given his enthusiasm, dancing must’ve been one of Pietro’s favourite pastimes prior to losing function in his legs. So maybe, at some point, since the kids have all been working hard with their huntsmen duties and training, Pietro decides to treat them all to a nice of entertainment.

 Imagine if …Pietro and Penny take the group to an old fashioned Mantlese Carnival which is basically RWBY’s version of Mardi Gras with a big parade of bands with nonstop musical entertainment.

I was kind of hoping that our heroes would have reunited with Team FNKI while they’re in Atlas. But it doesn’t seem like they’ll be present at all for this season. Unless, it’s a case where our heroes run into them while out with the Polendinas.

Resuming my Mantlese Carnival idea, let’s say after the group finished watching the parade, the Polendinas lead them to an old-fashioned snazzy little joint whose taste in jazz music is as sweet as its food.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of jazz music and the blues by Pietro Polendina’s design and the way he talked. His sense of fashion is giving me mega New Orleans type of vibes. Like he walked straight out of the set for the Princess and the Frog.

Anyways, like I said, our heroes are treated to a night of music and dancing by the Polendinas but while out and about in Mantle, they also happen to run into none other than Neon Katt and Flynt Cole.

Like imagine the group enjoying a nice performance by a local jazz band in Mantle only to find out that one of the musicians is Flynt.

Neon is also there to either show Flynt support (as my headcanon is that the two are dating) or perhaps she’s part of the performance with him as a singer as she and Flynt deliver a sort of Jazz/Blues rendition of Neon’s classic theme. Why not, ey?

After briefly exchanging pleasantries and catching up with their ole pals from Vale, Flynt and Neon invite everyone to an underground Mantlese rave. So unfortunately for Pietro and Maria (who was his date/company for the night), the younglings end up ditching the old folk for a night of partying. Not that they minded. Even Penny was allowed to join the group at the rave.

So as promised since V2, Neon and Flynt take JNR_RWBY plus Oscar and Penny out partying. As a side note, I’m not sure if Oscar would even be allowed to set foot inside a club given his age as a minor. Like I can just imagine Oscar, innocent as ever like the country munchkin that he is, walking up to the club bouncer only to be immediately barred from entering for being both underage and looking the part. Like would you believe Oscar is actually his age given his short stature and baby face?  

As a matter of fact, the only way I can see Oscar being allowed inside of a rave is if a) he faked his age by having one of Flynt and Neon’s friends hack into Atlas’ s system and alter his birth date by two years (since I’m imagining Atlas using electronic ID scans that instantly verifies a person’s personal records by just scanning them on the spot) or b) Flynt and Neon pulls some strings to have Oscar allowed in as they’re known regulars of the club. Why not?

So the group are out having a grand ole time, and while enjoying themselves Ruby and Penny sort of skedaddle for a bit up to a private place where they can just talk to one another. Since y’know…it’s been so long since they shared a chat since one of them was presumed to be dead and all. Anyways, it’s during their talk that Ruby noticed something peculiar about Penny’s behaviour.

She keeps recalling memories of times she and Ruby shared in excruciating detail. But that’s not the part that threw Ruby off. No matter how many times the Silver Eyed huntress attempted to deviate the conversation and get Penny to talk her more about how she���s been doing since what happened at the Vytal Festival, Penny kept reverting back to recanting the same stories.

The hunch I had in mind here is: What if…Penny 2.0 is actually a copy of original Penny. Rather than being a soul mimicking human nature from within a mechanical body, it’s more a machine operating purely from memories that were transferred to it from its old former self.

When we first met Penny, while the implications of her being an humanoid were clear as day from the instant she first bumped into RWBY (I mean I certainly called that she was a robot from day one), you could also still tell that there was something remotely human in nature about Penny. I got that sense the first time Penny revealed to Ruby that she wasn't a real girl. You heard the strong tinge of genuine sadness in her voice as she said it which was what made her friendship with Ruby all the more pure. Their bond was wholesome and important to each other inspire of only knowing one another for a short space of time.

And when Penny died in V3, you didn't feel as if it was a machine being destroyed. You actively felt like a character---a real person died. We, as the audience, got to feel the same sense of sadness that Ruby Rose felt watching her dear friend die before her very eyes after failing to save her in time.

Ruby failed to protect Penny (and eventually Pyrhha too) which was what made her answer to Maria’s question in V6 all the more meaningful.

She wishes to master control of her Silver Eyes, not just for the sake of being able to vanquish the Grimm but for the sake of protecting the people who matter most to her---her friends and family. The people who love her as much as she loves them.

This also kind of presents another reason why I’m conflicted on Penny’s return. Penny being back all fixed and good as new as if the Fall of Beacon didn’t happen kind of puts a bit of a damper on Ruby’s trauma as a result of what happened. It’s one of those things that made me question why show Ruby suffering from flashbacks of her friends’ deaths just to have said friend return good as new.

As we saw during her ‘Indomitable’ moment in V6, thinking about Penny and her death caused Ruby to lose focus. Yes Ruby managed to summon her light to petrify the Leviathan. But not before using Jinn to buy her some time so she can concentrate and let’s also not forget that Ruby’s power didn’t work.

While she succeeded in petrifying the Leviathan, she failed to kill it. This to me was a clear indicator that Ruby hasn’t full mastered her unique power and still has much to grow. A detail that I was relieved the CRWBY kept since I never felt like Ruby’s indomitable moment was rightfully earned so it almost felt like a waste of a good moment, in my opinion

I’m probably in the minority here when I say this but I actually disliked Ruby’s Indomitable scene from V6. As I said, it wasn’t properly earned and that took me out of the whole moment.

Instead of watching Ruby go through an arc of learning to fully master control of her newfound abilities, struggling at first but also learning more about herself and her heritage in the process building up to this grandiose moment where she finally perfects her power.

Instead we spent two whole seasons with our little red rose being written to be rather neglectful of her eyes, never once further questioning its mysterious origins; not even when in the face of the very person who told the last person who first told Ruby about her eyes.

Ruby learnt about the Silver Eyes from Qrow during the finale of V3. Qrow, on the other hand, said he learnt about the Silver Eyed Warriors from Ozpin. Ruby had her chance to ask Oz for more on the Silver Eyes at any point during V5 or even V6. Instead the Writers have her question everything but her Silver Eyes…despite showing her using it again later in the season during the Battle of Haven.

It is such a darn shame that Maria Calavera was only brought in for V6. I honestly feel like her character and role as Silver Eyed mentor to Ruby should’ve been better utilized as early as V4. 

Instead I was left feeling that Maria’s presence in Ruby’s development was made irrelevant especially by the end of V6 when Ruby had her big brain idea to use her Silver Eyes on the Leviathan…despite having zero prior training. I don’t think that’s how progress is supposed to work? 

And let’s not forget the fact that Ruby has only known Maria for only four days since the entirety of V6 (and the start of V7) only took place over the course of four days in RWBY’s timeline.

So yeah, Ruby’s Mastery of her Silver Eyes has much more groundwork to do and I have a feeling the Writers brought Penny back to aid with that

Did they necessarily have to though? No not really. As a matter of fact, Penny 2.0 unfortunately falls into the ball park of how the Writers brought back Neopolitan in V6 for me. While it’s nice to see Penny again, I didn’t honestly need her back especially since her death was framed in such a symbolic way to the plot in terms of how it affected Ruby’s character these past few seasons. Now I’m left questioning what the whole point of all of that was.

Listen, I’m not trying to imply that bringing Penny back was a terrible idea on the Writers’ part. I’m more saying, I don’t 100% buy into it. Not exactly.

I honestly feel there is going to be a catch with this. The Writers can’t have Penny’s death still affecting Ruby only to just magically have that trauma and mental block magically disappear now that she’s back in the picture. They’re not gonna do that, right? 

They’re not gonna undo that big detail established in previous seasons, right?  I mean…it’s not like they’ve done things like this before, right?

Nuh uh. Not buying it. Hence my theory on Ruby having a moment with Penny 2.0 only to realize that she’s not exactly all good as new as she was proclaimed to be.

Either that or it’s a case where even though Penny is back, Ruby herself can’t seem to look past the past.

She can’t seem to shake the haunting fact that she once saw her friend die before her very eyes because she failed to help her. Like I’d figure that that memory would still remain as a nightmarish lingering thought in Ruby’s psyche. Right?

Like imagine this scene. A scenario where Ruby and Penny are out exploring Mantle together, catching up only for Penny to be called back to the line of duty when another alert of Grimm attacking the city blares it ugly head. As Penny flies off to do her thing, Ruby follows her below on foot determined to help her out. When Ruby finds Penny, she arrives just in time to see her down a couple of Saybers from attacking a couple of fleeing civilians.

Ruby calls out to Penny. Penny, in turn, spins around to wave to Ruby. But while Penny is distracted greeting her friend, she is neglectful of one stray Sayber that suddenly comes in from behind and slashes Penny straight through the chest.

Ruby looks on in complete horror as Penny 2.0 is once again cut down in front of her; the nightmares of her decapitation at the Vytal Festival resurfacing. And for a moment, Ruby freezes on the spot. She doesn’t even react as the same Sayber charges at her.

But before the Sayber could get to Ruby, it’s killed before it could lay a bloody talon on her. As Ruby looks up  slowly from her daze at her saviour , she sees that it was Penny. In spite of her damage, Penny was still functioning enough to protect Ruby.

Let’s say, for the sake of the scene, the rest of the heroes---JNR_WBY plus Oscar were down in Mantle too and overheard all the commotion from the emergency alarms; all seven huntsmen and huntresses arriving at the scene to aid with the rescue. 

Let’s say the others had seen what happened to Penny and immediately came to her side to quickly gather up her severed parts to take her immediately to Dr. Polendina so he could repair his daughter. 

As the others handled Penny, let’s say…Oscar approaches Ruby as he noticed the disturbed expression on her face. Oscar urges Ruby on the matter of them taking Penny to her father as quickly as possible. At first, Ruby reacts like she didn’t hear Oscar; apparently too lost in her own wild thoughts. It wasn’t until Oscar gently touched Ruby’s shoulder did she finally stir out of her stupor. Long story short, the heroes manage to get Penny 2.0 to Pietro in time. 

After studying her injuries, Pietro reports to everyone that Penny was going to be fine. She may be off duty for a couple of days given that he’ll need time to repair her. 

But beyond that, Pietro assured the group that Penny was going to make a speedy recovery; much to the relief of the heroes. But in spite of hearing the good news, this doesn’t serve to uplift Ruby’s mood and her bothered expression of deep concern is still apparent on her face. Even as JNPR_RWBY depart from the Polendina residence to return up to Atlas. 

As the group look to head back home, Oscar is the one to take notice of Ruby’s awkward silence. 

 I say Oscar of all people rather than her teammates or Yang since it’s been highlighted before that when Ruby is feeling pressured or looks distressed in some shape or form, Oscar is quick to pick up on that.

He’s also been shown to act out on trying to help Ruby in this type of emotional scenario. This is why should we ever get a moment like this in the canon, I can picture it being another prime chance for the Writers to show Oscar being an emotional crutch for Ruby.

If a scene like this ever comes to pass in the series, the way I see it going down is Oscar confronting Ruby again about Penny and the two sharing another heart to heart moment where he gets her to open up about her true feelings. I’ve been itching for another V5 Dojo-esque scene between the Rosebuds.

I’d love to see another example of Oscar helping Ruby through another emotional rut; particularly if it involves Penny.

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

So to conclude…

I guess the main point I’m really trying to get at here with this musing post is that I don’t believe Ruby’s arc revolving around her grievances about Penny’s death is over. Even with her being back in her life.

It can’t be. Just because Penny was repaired and has returned doesn’t instantly erase the fact that she did die nor does it erase Ruby’s memory and clear trauma over it.  At least, I hope that’s not how the Writers are going to portray it. Ruby’s thing is that she sees Penny as a real girl. She sees her as a person. But Penny isn’t entirely a real person.

She possesses a soul of her own, yes (and I’m curious to learn the origins of said soul) but she’s also a machine. Her body is fake but at her core, she is a living being. Sort of---really need an origin episode on how Penny was created and where Atlas and Ironwood got the soul that’s a part of her.

Did it come from the Relic of Creation? Was Penny an unexpected by-product of the Relic’s power; brought to life by an experiment tested by Ironwood using the Relic of Creation? 

Is the Relic of Creation the RWBY equivalent of the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio? Is the being of the Relic of Creation inspired by the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio? 

Who knows? These are all questions I’m looking forward to this season answering for me.

But in the meantime, in regards to Ruby’s bond with Penny, We got to see Ruby grow to care for Penny as a person and what’s interesting to note is that Ruby has always valued Penny as more human than machine.

Keeping that in mind, picture if part of Ruby’s story with Penny for V7 is her leaning to accept that Penny isn’t a real person. This is why I like my theorized scene of having Ruby witness Penny 2.0 being cut down again; highlighting she’s still not over what happened at Beacon. Imagine if that creates an issue for Ruby where she actively feels uncomfortable at the thought of losing Penny time and time again since she can’t handle watching her friend getting destroyed in spite of the fact that she’s a machine that’s built to protect humanity.

I know this concept probably sounds rather farfetched based on how I’m describing it. However, that’s how I’m choosing to look at it; for now. Perhaps the story for this season might change my mind on that. We’ll see.

Anyways, that’s all I have to say on this subject matter for today. For the most part, I hope I managed to answer your question, Jade. As usual, please let me know if I did. I’m always open to hearing other FNDM fam members thoughts on my thoughts on my thoughts.

Similar to you, this squiggle meister is also left pondering why the Writers’ brought back Penny. It’s actually kind of sad that I have to question it. If I wasn’t so skeptical over the CRWBY Writers’ writing decisions given their recent track record then I wouldn’t be questioning this decision so much.

Right now my theories are my best bet at understanding why this decision was made for the plot but that don’t mean that that will be the case in the canon. I’m praying there is a good narrative reason for Penny’s return and that it wasn’t done as a gimmick to hype up the fans for the new season---y’know bringing back another fan favourite character just because they thought it would be quote, unquote, ‘cool to do’.

I didn’t like that that was the rationale for Neo’s return, as mentioned in the V6 DVD Commentary, and I’d be equally peeved if that was the rationale for Penny’s. Then again, maybe I’m getting too ahead of myself here. We’re only one episode into V7 so let’s not jump the gun. Let’s just be patient and wait and see what the rest of the season brings, ya?

Until then, hope you at least enjoyed my new musing post.

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 ~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)