#i tried really hard to find out who exactly is depicted in the mural

[catfox1310]

Humanity's Hope Movieverse (Updated)

!WARNING: SEMI-SPOLERS TO THE THIRD SONIC FILM AHEAD!

So it's fnally here! The third Sonic film! And you know what that means? It means that I should update the Movieverse version since the previous one was outdated.

So without further ado, here is the brand new version of the plot.

The plot.

On Mobius, two species lived in harmony, the Owls and the Echidnas. The thing that they both had in common was that they both guarded the Master Emerald. They weren't the only species on the planet either, as it was also home to two hedgehogs, Sonic and Shadow. Nobody knew where they came from, or how they ended up on Mobius, but they we're apart of their group regardless.

Another thing that they had in common was that they we're all fascinated by a large murial of sorts known as the "Angel of Light", depicting a young blonde girl wearing a blue outfit and sporting angel wings. For years the inhabatants wondered what this murial meant, or why it was even here. Eventually, they would find out, but not in the way that they thought.

One day, Shadow was getting bored of Mobius, he wanted to see new things than just his planet, so he took one of Lionclaw's rings and created a portal to god knows where. It turns out that the planet he went to was Earth itself, and it wasn't a safe arrival in the slightest.

He had crash landed on the planet hard, knocking him out, and attracting the attention of GUN, who brought his unconsious body to a top-secret research facility.

When Shadow awoke, he saw that he was in a green tube. He soon learned that they were conducting tests on him, and that they feared him too. It was nothing painful, but he felt really depressed about it. Well, until he met her...

Shadow was back in his tube at usual, until he heard footsteps aproaching him. Turning around, he saw a new face.. one who looked exactly like one on the mural! The one and only Maria Robotnik of course. She drew a silly bunny face on him at first. But then placed her hand on the glass, Shadow slowly followed, placing his hand where her's was.

Shadow and Maria would then become good friends and hang out with each other. To Shadow, Maria was different from the rest. She clearly wasn't afraid of him unlike the others, and she truly valued him as a friend.

Pachacamac's daughter Tikal (Who is alive and well in this universe) suddenly came out of a ring, wondering where Shadow was since he was gone for a while. But her attention then shifted to Maria, causing her to have the same first thought that Shadow had about her.

If she really was the rumored "Angel of Light" that the mural portrayed, then it wouldn't hurt to see if it was true or not. So Tikal took them both back to Mobius.

Pachacamac would present Maria with a wand that had been located near the murial. (Powered by a light blue Chaos Emerald instead of an emerald shard here) To everyone's shock, the wand reacted to Maria and transformed her into a Magical Girl. The rumor was true after all!

Lionclaw offered to train the young girl and see what kind of powers she gained in her new form, they were all light-based, no suprise there.

All was well until mysterious robots appeared out of nowhere and tried to take the Master Emerald. The Owls and Echidnas would try to defend it, but they failed, as a last dich effort, the Owls would hide the Master Emerald in an underwater temple somewhere in Hawaii. Despite of this, the robots would wipe them out, before Lionclaw would meet her end however, she summoned a ring portal back to Earth, and gave Maria her bag of rings, instructing her to protect her planet, and never let the Master Emerald fall into the wrong hands.

What follows is Maria, Tikal, Sonic, and Shadow being sent to Earth a few years into the future, and similar events of the Sonic movies taking place in the future as well. (With a few differences of course)

Why did Lionclaw tell Maria to protect her planet? Because the inhabitants also sensed a great danger that would try to enslave the universe. Though, when this would happen was unknown, until now.

And thats the updated plot.

Obviously the other Magical Girls seen in the OG AU will be present in this one, with movie-inspired twists. (Like Sara being from another planet, and Elise being a normal teen rather than a princess.)

And Eggette will be present too, taking a simillar role to Knuckles in the AU's version of the second Sonic film (Though, she doesn't swich sides unlike Knuckles of course)

And the third film's events in this universe will feature a Movieverse version of Sage, who sides with Maria and the other Magical Girls to fight Eggman, as well as a strange girl who has a similar appearance to Maria, I wonder who she is?

And of course, if you want to ask me things about the AU, you can always do that.

[lgbt-albania]

Prominent Albanian LGBT+ activists pose in front of a mural depicting Albanian national figures and freedom fighters throughout the centuries.

Tirana, Albania -- Jetmir Idrizi

[horde-princess]

Death With Dignity

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Catra reflects on her redemption and the sacrifices of angella and shadow weaver (and kisses her girlfriend 😌😌). Inspired in a major way by @catradora‘s beautiful illustration of catra gazing up at a mural of angella 💘

--

1. monarch

Bells echoed quietly through the halls of the Bright Moon palace. It was four in the morning and Adora’s arm was draped protectively over Catra, her chest rising and falling against her back, heartbeat slow. If they were back in the Horde, the rhythm of it would’ve been fluttery and anxious. But in recent weeks an era of peace had settled over Etheria, and maybe especially over its destined hero. Her calling fulfilled, her new life beginning… Sometimes Catra let herself dream of it, too. Finding peace.

read on ao3

She quietly slipped out of Adora’s arms, careful not to wake her. She’d had a lot of practice the past couple of weeks, which should probably worry her, but if there was something bothering Catra she couldn’t bring herself to admit it... too afraid of watching Adora’s love shatter in her hands like a fragile glass illusion that was never really hers.

Adora stirred in her sleep and her fist hit Catra’s pillow before she relaxed again. Catra flinched. It was hard to look away from her, a living mosaic of everything she found terrifying and breathtaking. The way the moonlight kissed her skin, the curve of her shoulder. When tears blurred her vision enough that she could barely make out the form of her anymore, Catra turned to leave. 

Walking the halls at night, she found an intimacy with Bright Moon that evaded her during the day. The bright colors were dimmed in shadow, there were no curious faces--or suspicious ones. Just the same few guards who had gotten used to her nighttime wanderings. While the palace was full of beautiful paintings and murals like nothing Catra had ever seen, there was one in particular that she kept coming back to every night. She stood before it and gazed up in child-like wonder.

Queen Angella… The former ruler of Bright Moon--or, as Catra knew her, the Horde’s number one enemy--loomed above, a masterful work of art set with colorful stones, gems, painted glass. Occasionally, light from the torches would refract through it a certain way and almost make her seem to come alive. Wings glittered as though moving in a breeze, giving her a divine essence. The larger than life depiction did little to discourage the way Catra had mythologized her in her mind. 

A mother, a warrior, an immortal queen… and the reason Catra found herself gazing into soft blue eyes every morning. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

A voice from down the hall tore Catra from her thoughts and set her heart racing. She automatically assumed a soldier’s stance, the way she was taught to show respect in the Horde.

“King Micah?--” Her breath caught in her throat. 

It had been two weeks since Micah had learned the truth about Angella’s sacrifice. She hadn’t dared ask for forgiveness. Not even as the days passed and Catra wasn’t able to eat, or sleep, or be of much use to anyone, really. Glimmer kept saying he just needed time. 

Micah approached slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the mural. He was dressed all in white, the traditional Etherian color for mourning, which drew attention to his sunken cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes. He came to stand beside Catra, who watched him warily before also returning her gaze to Angella. She could hear her own pulse in her ears.

“Just Micah, now,” he corrected after a moment. “My days of ruling have long ended.”

His voice was gravelly, tired. Catra guessed he wasn’t sleeping much either.

“Y-yes, sir.”

They settled into an uncomfortable silence as the queen looked down upon them, in all her dignity.

“I’ll admit…” Micah cleared his throat. “When Glimmer told me what happened, I… Well, I’m sorry. For the way that I reacted.”

A wave of nausea swept over Catra. She clenched her fists, feeling mortified.

“No. I deserved it.”

She could feel Micah’s eyes on her but kept looking straight ahead.

“Did you ever meet her?” he asked.

Catra tried to think, sorting through a dusty bookshelf of painful memories.

“I… I saw her once,” she whispered. “During the Battle of Bright Moon, she was… defending the Moonstone. But not really, no.”

Micah nodded thoughtfully, then smiled. 

“And she always said I was the brave one.”

Mesmerized by the artwork, memories continued to pull at Catra… Glimmer breaking down in tears, Adora and Bow’s restrained anger when they asked Catra to leave. The three of them sharing stories about what a loving mother Angella was, what a strong leader. Adora hugging herself as she relayed the details of what exactly happened in the portal that day. How Angella sacrificed herself to save everyone.

How she sacrificed herself to save Adora.

To save her from... Catra. 

From her own monstrous, vile, misplaced wrath.

Catra realized tears were streaming down her face. 

Too overwhelmed with shame to stand any longer under the queen’s scrutiny, she fell to her knees, as if in supplication. She barely registered Micah’s concerned hand on her shoulder. 

“I--I owe her everything,” Catra wept. “I can’t make up for it, I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”

Before she knew what was happening Micah had knelt down and wrapped his arms around her and she was falling apart, shaking like a child. She didn’t know how long she cried but at the end of it his white gown was washed completely by her tears.

“You’re forgiven, Catra,” he murmured into her hair, and she could only shake her head, trying to hold back another sob. 

“Why do you even care about me?”

Micah sighed. “The same reason my daughter does: you’re trying to make things right.”

He leaned back to gently rest his hand on Catra’s cheek, encouraging her to meet his eyes. The kindness in them was terrible, burning.

“And wherever she is, I know that Angella forgives you, too.”

Somehow, Catra actually believed him. Not because she could ever be worthy of it, but... because it's who Angella was. 

Micah offered her his hand. She hesitated, then accepted it. He pulled her to her feet and they continued to study the artwork together, side by side. Catra felt like she could stare at it for hours. Truthfully, she had.

“I wish I could’ve known her,” she confessed. “Everyone tells me how kind she was. And giving. Nothing like--”

Catra wasn’t sure where she was going with that train of thought. 

“Like Shadow Weaver?” Micah guessed.

The name was like rusty nails scraping out Catra’s insides. She didn’t say anything more. But Micah placed a hand on Catra’s shoulder and she felt some kind of unspoken understanding pass between them.

“Let’s take the day off tomorrow,” he said suddenly, a mischievous lilt to his voice.

Catra squinted at him, though it was a relief to see his cheerful demeanor returning.

 “What? We have the reparations meeting--”

“I need a break from this political stuff,” Micah complained. "Whaddya say, be my partner in crime? Besides, you’re the only one who can translate for Melog--I’ve been dying to ask how they manipulate light waves with magic to--”

“Okay, okay! Fine,” Catra chuckled. “I guess… It could be nice to take a break from everyone.”

“That’s the spirit!” He mussed up her hair a little. “I’ll make a rebel out of you yet.” 

Oh, man. Between Micah, George, Lance… Dads really were all the same. 

“Now why don’t you get some rest, kiddo.”

He said it so gently, and Catra couldn't believe it. How far down into her darkness the light of one person’s forgiveness could reach. 

“King--I mean, Micah… Thank you. For everything.”

Micah smiled fondly.

“You’re welcome.”

She glanced up at Angella one last time and could’ve sworn she saw a smile reflected in the stones.

Catra started to head back to her room, but something stopped her just after she turned the corner. She peeked around it and watched Micah step up to the mural of his wife. 

He touched his forehead to the wall and let out a long, heavy sigh.

“I miss you, my love.”

--

When Catra returned to Adora’s arms, exhaustion nearly overtook her for the first time in weeks, but she fought it and stayed awake all night just to listen to the sound of her breathing.

2. mother

It was strange, being back in Mystacor. The place held nothing but terrifying memories. 

Catra, she… distracts you. Confuses you. Haven’t you hurt each other enough?

Shadow Weaver is sacrificing you! Why can’t you see that?!

It doesn’t always have to be you!

Catra stood from the table abruptly. The other dinner guests stared at her with alarm and Adora met her eyes from across the hall.

“Are you okay?” she mouthed. 

Catra plastered on a smile to address the room.

“Sorry!--I just... remembered something, you’ll have to excuse me.”

She rushed out of the banquet hall and leaned against the wall outside, heart pounding. She forced herself to take a deep breath in. Then out. In, out. Huh. Maybe Perfuma wasn’t as crazy as she thought. They’d been away from home for a couple weeks, traveling and attending parties and helping rebuild kingdoms. It wasn’t that Catra wasn’t enjoying herself, it’s just that she hadn’t had much time to process… well, everything.

She peered down the long corridor, thinking a walk might help clear her head--and that’s when she saw it.

The statue.

The likeness was so uncanny it sent her into fight or flight mode. But Catra had decided a while ago that she was done running.

Her footsteps echoed in the cavernous silence until she stood directly in front of it. The marble glistened in the warm moonlight streaming in through the windows, and it stood tall among its peers in the Hall of Sorcerers--prideful, stoic, severe, and far too much like the woman Catra had once known. A shiver ran down her spine and she struggled for breath as though the air near the statue was thin, all the oxygen around it sucked out. Lifeless eyes stared forward, her gaze passing indifferently over Catra’s head.

I’m so proud of you, Catra.

Her hands were shaking and she clenched them into fists. Blood trickled from her palms to the floor. She shut her eyes but couldn’t suppress it, the rage, the disgust, it burst out of her from some dark and emaciated fragment of her heart--

“I hate you! I will never forgive you!”

The threat fell on ears of stone. Her body slackened. Lips quivering, tasting metal, her voice shook with anger.

“I don’t care if you helped save her... I will never forgive you.”

It was the one thing Catra held over her, the one birthright she’d ever possessed--to deny her absolution. Even in death. 

Especially in death.

At least you admit she’s evil.

You’re one to talk, aren’t you?

Catra gripped her head in her hands, trying to force the memory out, trying not to scream. But wasn’t there truth in it? Wasn’t she a hypocrite? How could she accept others’ forgiveness yet withhold her own? 

You expect me to believe you had a change of heart in the end?! Catra wanted to scream at her. That you actually cared if we survived? If I survived?

She glared up at the statue’s face, the veil concealing her mouth.

ANSWER ME!

“Catra?” 

All the fire drained out of her when she heard Adora call her name. 

Hurried footsteps, then hands grabbing at her shoulders, her wrists.

“Catra!--What--You’re bleeding--”

Catra collapsed against her, sinking into the warmth of Adora’s embrace. Her chest burned but she had no tears left. Not for her. She could only gasp breathlessly against Adora’s shoulder.

“Shh, I’m here, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“It’s not fair,” was all she could get out. “It’s not fair!”

--

“You know, it used to be all dirty. Scratched up.”

Catra hummed, more focused on Adora playing with her fingers than on her words. They sat against the wall opposite the statue. Her skin was stained red from the blood on Catra’s hands. 

“I guess Castaspella had it refurbished, after... well.”

“She should’ve thrown it out the window,” Catra said through gritted teeth. “Less effort.”

She could hear the disagreement in Adora’s responding sigh but she didn’t say anything.

“What? You think she deserves to be honored?” she snapped.

“No! Of course not. But... if it wasn’t for her…”

Catra pulled her hand away and rose to her feet. Adora followed after her.

“One good thing doesn’t make up for her ruining our lives!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Adora exclaimed. “I watched her hurt you over and over and couldn’t do anything about it!”

Catra started, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. She felt like she was a kid again, back in the Fright Zone, terrified and insecure and every stupid thing that ever happened to her was Adora’s fault, except it wasn’t. Not at all. 

She knew Shadow Weaver had hurt Adora, too. They’d talked about it a lot. Why she was always chasing some destiny and throwing herself into danger with no hesitation. But Catra hadn’t told her everything from her perspective, not yet.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Catra mumbled, feeling contrite for some reason.

Adora’s eyes filled with torment and a darkness Catra hadn’t known she was capable of.

She reached out for her hesitantly and when Adora didn’t back away Catra drew her close and cradled her face with both hands.

“Hey. I love you,” she said softly.

Adora hung her head and squeezed her eyes shut but the tears leaked out anyway.

Running her thumbs along her cheeks to dry them, Catra brushed her mouth tenderly over Adora’s forehead. Steady arms slipped around her waist and held onto her tightly and Adora tilted her face back up, hopeless, longing. Catra felt something almost holy running in her veins as their lips met and Adora’s kiss was warm, slow--too slow, making Catra’s temperature rise, and she didn’t know how long she could hide the truth of how desperate she was for her. But then a gentle glow behind her eyelids turned blinding and suddenly an explosive crack echoed down the hall. 

Catra jumped and opened her eyes to see both of them enveloped in magic.

“...Whoa,” she breathed, slightly lightheaded.

Adora was staring up at the statue in shock and she followed her gaze. As the dust settled, Catra saw the veil hiding its face had been violently ripped off, leaving nothing behind except vacant eyes and splintering cracks in the stone that ran from her hairline to her jaw. 

They stood together in silence, Catra hanging with a hand on Adora’s shoulder.

Light Spinner, whoever she was, had been mangled, torn away… This was the woman who had raised them. The weaver of their shadows. 

Catra coughed a little from the dust and laced her fingers with Adora’s again.

“Not sure Castaspella will like your remodel,” she tried to joke.

“Who cares,” Adora muttered. “Shadow Weaver chose her path. She wanted to be a hero... but she won’t be remembered as one.”

The set of her jaw was rigid, resolute.

“You can’t forgive her either, can you?”

“No. I--I don’t know. One day, maybe.”

One day seemed like a lofty goal to Catra. The unspeakable suffering she’d inflicted on her, on both of them... yet she always had some twisted justification. As if she believed her intentions were good.

I just wanted to prepare you for the world. I wanted you to be strong.

Tears filled Catra’s eyes as she observed the damaged sculpture, but they didn’t fall. 

“Before she died… She said she was proud of me.”

She sensed Adora looking at her, analyzing. Like she was trying to decide how to respond. Catra could guess what was going through her head. I'm proud of you. You should be proud of yourself.

“For what?” she settled on instead.

“Who knows.” Catra thought for a moment. “For not ending up like her, probably.”

Adora brushed her hair back from her forehead. Her hand trailed down her neck and came to rest over her heart.

“You were never like her.”

“Come on, Adora,” Catra nearly begged. “The things I’ve done, I was so angry...”

“Because you were hurting--because you cared, so much, and people just threw it away, I--” she stopped, misery etched on her face. Catra looked down, wincing. “But Shadow Weaver? She was just selfish. How could there have been room in her heart for anyone when she took up so much space herself.”

Catra let out a shaky breath. This day, this whole trip had been so draining. She leaned into Adora for support who wrapped an arm around her.

“If she hadn’t teleported me to the Heart...” her voice fell to a whisper. “I would’ve lost you forever.”

“I know... When I heard you scream, fighting that monster…”

Catra shivered from the memory. 

The sculpture towered over them, unhearing, uncaring. 

“Adora?”

“Hm?”

“Do you... Do you think the only reason she went back to save me was to make sure you set the magic free?”

Adora frowned like she had already thought about it.

“I think… I want to believe… there was some part of her that wanted us both to be happy.”

The image flickered in her mind of Shadow Weaver removing her mask, allowing them a glimpse of her face for the first time since they were kids. Her scars, her sins laid bare for them to see.

It’s too late for me. But you… this is only the beginning for you.

Catra gazed upon the marred face of her abuser, her mentor--her mother, for all  intents and purposes, though she couldn’t bring herself to actually associate her with the word--and something restful settled in her heart. Not peace, not exactly. Just a sense of calm.

Because her and Adora, they were finally free.

She held Adora closer and nuzzled her ear.

“Well, whatever she wanted from us… it doesn’t matter. We get to write our own happy ending now.”

A smile blossomed across Adora’s face. 

“You think you’re my happy ending, huh?”

“Whatever,” Catra scoffed. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t come back from the dead just to kiss me.”

She grinned and started to lean in, but Adora pushed her off with a groan.

“Are you ever gonna let it go? That was one time!”

“And for some reason, it’s always funny--”

Adora cut her off with a kiss and yeah, Catra had the feeling that everything was going to be okay. She laughed breathlessly and leaned her forehead against Adora’s.

“Can we go home now?” she pleaded.

“Ugh, I thought you’d never ask.”

[sickandtideeeee]

By Bast - Chapter 14 (Erik x Reader)

A/N: This chapter was a tiny bit shorter than usual but I hope that it at least has a similar impact in terms of story progression :o. As usual, comments and reblogs are appreciated!! <3

How long exactly can this man run for? You were starting to feel the dull throb of ribs getting sore from the repeated impact of every step he took. This had gone on for about five minutes and you had had about enough.

“Is this really necessary?!” You shrieked, thumping him pointlessly on the back a couple of times.

“Nah, but it’s convenient as hell though.” He replied. Eventually, he plopped you down, but before you could straighten yourself up on your two feet, N’Jadaka pulled you back around a corner and softly clapped his large hand over your mouth. Your eyes grew wide in panic, but he put a finger to his lips, and brought you into a crouch with him.

Two guards passed by, their chattering louder as they approached. You wondered why you had not heard them initially while N’Jadaka clearly had. He peered around the wall and motioned for you to follow him.

You continued to sneak past station after station of surveillance in the castle. It was as though he knew the grounds like the back of his hand. Every footstep was quiet yet sure, and every turn was calculated. However, the most unnerving part of following him was that you seemed to traveling deeper and deeper to the center of the palace, rather than outside.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” You finally whispered, once you had reached the familiar ornate statues that adorned the entrance to the main wing. Instead of answering, he commanded you to stay hidden.

“Stay back.”

You nodded, and he went ahead, vanishing into the darkness. Out of view, you heard a muffled cry and a loud thud. Then a second.

N’Jadaka came back around to get you. You gulped, as you followed him back to collapsed bodies. Thankfully, bodies and not corpses. N’Jadaka caught you giving him a look, and raised an eyebrow. You quickly averted your eyes, looking to your feet.

Finally, the two of you stopped in a small room that seemed to house nothing but a large expansive mural. Your companion watched, almost transfixed at the image. On further inspection, you realized it was a painting depicting the royal family lineage from the time of the very first Black Panther to now. You noticed conspicuously that while his own father, T’Challa’s father and T’Challa and Shuri were accounted for in the image, N’Jadaka was not.

He made a sound between a half-hearted chuckle and a scoff, then reached into his shirt to pull out a plain necklace with a silver ring. He placed the ring on his finger and in seconds the mural appeared to dissolve. All that was left was a narrow, dark path and you both ventured inwards.

---

Nothing lay more than a foot before your eyes but pure darkness as you ventured through this secret passageway. However, staying close to N’Jadaka was a bit calming, if not dare you say, comforting. Never mind the fact that you were literally walking into the abyss with someone who could contend for the title of the real-life boogeyman. You made sure to keep a buffer of space between you as you followed closely behind him, so as to not accidentally touch him.

Too late. Losing your footing on what felt like uneven earth, you stumbled into his hard back. He stopped, and you felt a lead weight drop into your stomach.

“Walk in front of me.” He said, sternly.  You obliged, nervously. He closed the distance between you however, such that you could almost feel his presence physically. A few moments passed as you walked in silence before you were brave enough to speak.

“How did you know exactly where to go?”

Again your words were met with silence. N’Jadaka really was not trying to answer any questions today. You guessed you would just stay curious.

Suddenly, your leading foot tapped metal, and you stopped. N’Jadaka pushed past you and felt the air in front of him with his hands, then you heard the heavy creak of a metal door sliding open. He climbed up a couple of metal steps and then reached out his hand for you to follow.

You climbed up and found yourself in what looked like the inside of an old train car, about ten feet long from back to front. N’Jadaka had flipped a switch that illuminated the small enclosed space, and now he sat at the other end of the vehicle before an antique-looking control panel with switches, buttons and levers. He worked busily for a couple moments until the car shook and roared with life and suddenly you were moving.

You took a seat finally, and leaned against the window beside you. Outside you could make out train tracks, revealed by the bright yellow headlights at the front of the train. You were pretty sure Wakanda hadn’t had trains this primitive in the last hundred years. These must have been one of the routes of the original vibranium mines in the city you read about as a kid. Clearly it must have been sapped dry of all of its resources, since it was so dark, missing the soft purple glow of vibranium ore. This would have been perfect for an escape route for the royal family, now that you thought about it. You took a passenger seat, deciding to allow your legs to rest for however long this break would allow you.

You watched N’Jadaka from behind, noting how his broad shoulders relaxed as though he escaped imprisonment in foreign territory on the daily. Pressing your own hand to your chest, you recognized your own steady heartbeat and irrational calm. You were running away from your homeland with the man who had tried to turn it on his head and who had also murdered your only family. Things had stopped making sense the moment this man had arrived.

N’Jadaka had ruined your life, but seemed to be giving you a new one. Contemplating this, sleep came to overtake you like a sly thief, your eyes closing shut on the image of N’Jadaka finally turning back to look at you.

---

Your eyes creaked open the moment you sensed the train screech to a halt. Disoriented for a brief moment, you jolted back to life as N’Jadaka gave you a look before dismounting the train. Following him in a hurry, you trailed him as he made his way out of the mine.

For the first time in your life, you were in what could only have been called uncharted territory. The chirp of crickets and buzz of small insects that flew by night were sounds foreign to you, as were the hum of mosquitoes that attempted to bite your face and hands, the only exposed skin they could get to. Even though it was the few hours that separated the late night and the early morning, the cool breeze generated by the foliage was offset by a sticky, oppressive heat surrounding the two of you. You continued to venture into the jungle following your partner’s lead, N’Jadaka not saying a word to you.

You walked for what felt like hours, feeling more and more idiotic the further you traveled. Pursuing this man who would not speak to you, throwing away your whole life for what you think you saw, what you think you heard, and what you think you felt? This was dumb, so very dumb, you mentally scolded yourself.

Finally, you stopped in your tracks. N’Jadaka kept walking for several steps longer, then stopped once he no longer felt the echoing of steps behind him. He turned to look at you, wordlessly.

“Where are we going?” You demanding to know, calling out to him.

In the brightness of the full moon, you could see his neutral, tough expression soften ever-so-slightly. Finally, that familiar smirk materialized once again. You realized that you had begun to miss it in the span of just a few hours.

“I was waiting for you to ask, babygirl. Looked like you’d follow me to the ends of the earth, no questions asked. It was cute, though, no lie.”

Your eyes narrowed.

“We’re gonna find shelter for the night.” He reassured you. “Then there’s a cabin out-”

Your blood-curdling scream cut him off, as a beast came out of seemingly nowhere in the deep jungle and charged directly towards you with all its might. Your fight or flight response did neither in this instance, and instead as you crouched in a protective stance, hands above you to protect your face, all of your muscles and joints seemed to freeze. Your eyes clamped shut, waiting for the worst.

Nothing happened.

Your eyes peered open, and you found yourself surrounded by a translucent protective barrier. The animal must have been rebuffed and stunned by the shield once it pounced onto you, because it steadied itself shakily on its paws, shaking its monstrous head aggressively side to side. Still frozen in place, your eyes darted around trying to make sense of what was going on. They fell on N’Jadaka who looked at you in concerned shock. The jungle cat now seemed to have renewed rage at missing an easy meal and now repositioned itself to charge once more.

Before it could spring a second time, N’Jadaka charged the beast shoulder-first like a linebacker, knocking the snarling jungle cat to the ground once more. He gave it a crushing blow on its snout and you held your breath as he delivered next blow after blow, blood splattering and staining his face and clothing.

As the creature let out its agonal breaths, N’Jadaka stayed kneeling on the ground, heaving with fatigue after having pummeled this now helpless creature into the soil. Your barrier dropped as you moved slowly towards him. It was so, so easy to forget how violent this man could be, and this was your reminder.

He stayed still, watching the animal die for a moment as you approached. You placed a hand gingerly on his shoulder, hoping to snap him out of his trance.

“Thank you, N’Jadaka. For protecting me.” You said, softly.

His breathing slowed and he rose to his feet. You took a few steps back to give him space. You wondered if you had made that barrier yourself or it was divine intervention, or somehow even N’Jadaka himself. It really would not have been so strange considering you’d just forced your hand through a wall like a ghost just hours ago. You’d figure out what was going on later.

“Let’s keep moving. We gotta find somewhere to sleep.” N’Jadaka replied, his voice no louder than a murmur.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you and trailed him closely. He stopped suddenly, turned to take a long look at you, and with his expression still neutral despite a new warmth behind his eyes, spoke again.

“Call me Erik from now on.”

Tagging:  @syndrlla97 @iwantsomethingeternal@1killmonger @chasingsunlight @hoopshoney @destinio1 @wakanda-inspired @thadelightfulone @lalasparkles @pessimisfit @youreadthatright @stark-red19@ruruly20 @bossyboyd03 @autumn242 @heybriheyyy @thelovelyliterary@muse-of-mbaku @bidibidibombaclaat@supersizemeplz@romanceoftheeveryday @chaneajoyyy @lildashofmelanin @blackpinup22 @imayhavemisunderstood @raysunshine78

[calligraphist-artemisia]

The Sun Prince (Chapter 1)

Summary:  It was an accident. A simple misstep that sent him plunging into the darkness and waking an ancient magic. Now Prompto has to deal with the consequences of making a deal with an Astral and learn how to control the magic blooming inside of him.

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the username “kishirokitsune”

Decided to jump headfirst into this one after the idea of Prompto accidentally becoming a prince wouldn’t leave my head. I’m not 100% sure where this will go, but it’ll be fun to find out!

1. The Crown in the Darkness

In Prompto's defense, he hadn't meant to end up in the ancient ruins, alone with only his trusty lapel flashlight to guide the way. It happened so suddenly – one minute he was helping Noctis search for a missing dogtag, and the next the ground gave way beneath his feet, plunging him into the chilled depths. He'd been thankful to have his landing slightly softened by water, right up until the rushing river swept him away from the entrance, dropping him deeper into the ancient structure.

Prompto groaned as he came to another dead end. As awful as it sounded, he really wished Noctis was there with him. He didn't want his best buddy in trouble, but he'd feel a whole lot better if he had some company. Maybe then he wouldn't jump at every time shuffle of rock, every drip of water.

'Pull it together. It's just another empty ruin,' he chided himself, not daring to speak the words out loud. He turned around, making his way back through the winding passage and keeping an eye out for a split in the path.

Just an empty ruin.

A run-of-the-mill, underground, empty ruin.

A surprisingly intact empty ruin, whose murals of colorful, gleaming stone glinted as his light passed over them, so unlike any of the others they'd visited while exploring the lands outside of the Crown City. If he weren't so terrified by what may lurk there, Prompto would have examined the murals more closely or snapped a few pictures to show Ignis later.

Actually, it was strange. He should have encountered daemons the moment he came out at the bottom of the slide, but he hadn't see as much as a single imp.

Prompto shivered for a reason other than being cold and wet.

It should have brought him some form of comfort, the thought of not having to deal with daemons by himself while lost and trapped in an ancient structure, but it only intensified his feelings of unease.

He came to a new path and noted with some hope that it sloped upwards. That was a good sign, right? He had to go up in order to get out, so as long as he kept that in mind, he would be okay. Eventually he would find a way out. It was just like following the left wall to get out of a maze! (Right? Wait, was that right? He'd heard it somewhere before, but did that really work?)

Prompto shook his head and tried to focus on the situation at hand.

Step one, find a path leading up and out.

Step two... well, he didn't know what step two was, but he'd figure it out.

Step three, profit?

He fought back a giggle at the absurdity of his thoughts, which trailed off to a stop as he reached the top of the sloping path, where he came face-to-face with another dead end.

“No...” he breathed, feeling panic well up and lodge in his throat. His eyes stung with tears and he fiercely wiped them away.

There was another mural there, depicting a great horned Astral offering the image of the sun to a human figure. Maybe if he paid better attention to the lessons on the history of Solheim, he'd be able to make better sense of what he was seeing. What if there were clues on how to get out and he was missing them?

No, that was stupid. Stuff like that only happened in movies and video games, not real life.

It didn't stop Prompto from reaching out to touch the raised form of the sun, half wondering how the ancients accomplished such lasting feats of design. Even after thousands of years, there wasn't a decorative stone out of place.

The sun sank in from the light pressure of his fingertips and Prompto didn't have time to utter a despairing “uh oh” before the floor tipped under his feet and sent him painfully thudding into a chamber below.

Bright light assaulted his eyes and he tightly squeezed his eyes shut with a soft cry. Between that and the pain throbbing through his back thanks to his hard landing, all he knew was pain for several agonizingly long minutes.

He officially hated the ruins.

(Could it even be considered that? It wasn't exactly ruined.)

His eyes slowly adapted to the change in light and as he looked around the chamber, he realized he was in very real, very serious danger.

Two of the walls were slowly moving in, so quietly that at first he thought he was imagining it, and there was no exit in sight.

“No, no, no!” Prompto cried out, frantically struggling to his feet. He grabbed onto a podium in the center of the room, using it to stabilize himself as he searched the walls for any clues.

There had to be a way out! Another trigger, like the one that dropped him into danger! He just needed to be fast about finding it.

He couldn't die there, slowly and agonizingly crushed to death between hard stone. There was so much he still had to do! To see! How could he keep his promise to stand by Noct's side if he was dead!

Pure panic was setting in.

“Help!” Prompto shouted, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the stone chamber.

He received no response, not that he really expected one.

“Please.” His next word came out as more of a sob, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to calm down. He had to calm down. If he panicked, he was doomed. “Can anyone hear me?”

Prompto lowered his eyes to the podium he was clutching for support. A podium which held an ornate golden crown, which emanated an aura of light that warped the air around it, not unlike heat waves on a hot summer day or the way burning embers distorted the air as it turned wood to charcoal. It was a work of beauty, all woven gold and tiny, delicate gears that actually moved. Ancient writings were printed across the thicker sides of the bands. The emblem of a sun, carved from golden crystal, was the centerpiece.

A part of Prompto wanted to pick it up and get a better look, but he wrenched his gaze away instead. “Bad idea. That's, like, the start of seventeen different horror films,” he said to himself.

He wasn't going to make his impending death worse by getting himself cursed by an ancient artifact. Nuh uh. No thanks.

Prompto turned his attention back to the walls, morbidly wondering how badly his blood would stain the images. He shook his head. He had to stop thinking like that!

The murals...

They were everywhere that he looked. There had to be some kind of meaning to them all, or else why bother putting so much time and effort into them, especially in a chamber designed solely to kill whoever got stuck inside of it.

Dazzling crystals in an array of colors glimmered under the light of the crown, more detailed than anything else he'd come across. A giant of a man – maybe one of the Astrals? - was being presented with a golden crown, not unlike the one on the podium. He was there on every wall, in every scene, helping the people with what they needed.

It gave Prompto an idea.

He took a deep breath and tried to block out the fact that, in a few minutes, he would be firmly sandwiched between two walls and squeezed until he popped and became something that grotesquely resembled strawberry jam. He tried not to fidget too much as he summoned his camera to his hands and his words got stuck in his throat.

“Uh, so, I know I'm not worthy or anything. I'm not royalty or anyone special or even a true Crown citizen, but....” He fought the urge to touch his wristband and make sure it fully covered the mark it was meant to hide. Instead, he set his camera on the podium. “Please, if you can hear me, I really don't want to die here, and I know my camera isn't a great offering, but it's the most prized thing I have.”

He eyed the walls, which steadily continued on their path, and swallowed fearfully. “P-please, I don't... I'll do anything you want! Please, help me!”

“Anything?”

It was a good thing Prompto already set down his camera, because he absolutely would have dropped it at the sound of a raspy, masculine voice. He whirled around to find a man with long, dark hair standing against an stationary wall, a scowl set on his sharp face. His eyes were the most unsettling thing about him, flickering red and orange like a blazing fire.

He stepped forward and Prompto's attention was down to his faded and torn robes, gray like ash and unfitting for a man – no, Astral, who radiated such raw power.

Prompto gulped.

He was in way over his head, practically drowning, but he couldn't back down. Promising anything to an unknown god was probably the worst mistake he could make, but it was either that or die an agonizingly painful death.

The Astral stared at him, waiting for an answer.

“Anything,” Prompto agreed, his voice coming out as an embarrassing squeak.

The Astral didn't have the decency to laugh or even smirk, and instead walked over and took Prompto's chin in a tight grip, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Prompto didn't know what he was looking for, but the Astral must have been satisfied with what he saw because he soon released him and moved on to the crown.

Prompto watched him caress it with reserved reverence, all too aware of the walls, which had yet to stop. He hated to disrupt the moment the Astral was having, but he couldn't hold back. Not anymore. “So, uh, what about the walls? You know, the moving ones? The moving ones that are about to kill us both?”

The Astral looked wholly indifferent to what Prompto was saying, and without looking away from the crown, lifted one hand and snapped his fingers.

The walls stopped.

Prompto exhaled in relief. “Thanks! I really thought I was done for!”

“I am aware,” said the Astral, but at least that time Prompto thought he could detect a hint of amusement. His victory over being vaguely amusing to the deity rather than annoying was short-lived, as the man turned to him with the crown in his hands.

Prompto's smile faded and he took a step back. “What are you going to do with that?”

“This is for you. It is the key to leaving this place.”

“It's not cursed, is it?” Prompto asked warily, the words slipping out. He snapped his mouth shut, his eyes going wide as he realized he'd likely offended the deity standing before him.

“Cursed?” repeated the Astral, evidently thrown off guard. He glanced down at the crown in his hands and snorted in amusement. “An intriguing idea, however foolish. Had I wanted you dead, I would have let your pleas go unanswered.” He looked Prompto up and down. “You are more interesting than I expected. Now step forward, Prompto Argentum.”

Prompto's feet moved as if by their own accord until he stood directly in front of the Astral, and before he could protest or babble out a whole stream of questions, the crown was gently placed on top of his head, a pleasantly warm weight.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected to happen, but after a moment it became clear that was it. He lifted his head to meet the Astral's amused gaze, and the crown stayed perfectly in place, as though it had been made just for him.

“Now what?”

“Now, you leave,” said the Astral, making a shooing gesture.

It had to be a trick, right? Did gods even play tricks?

“You haven't told me what you want,” Prompto pointed out. “My offering, for saving my life. I still owe you.”

“It has been a long time since anyone owed me something. I would like to cherish that feeling for a while longer,” said the Astral. “Rest assured, Prompto Argentum, I will find you when the time is right to request my favor. For now, I leave you with a name – Rhyos. Remember it.”

“Uh, sure?” Prompto responded, unsure of what else to say.

Rhyos, he tested the name in his mind. It was an unusual name for a god, but he'd never say that to his face.

He blinked and Rhyos was gone, leaving him alone in the chamber. “Okay, Prompto, lets get out of here,” he said to himself. “Now, uh, how do I do that?”

Prompto was sure he'd been gone for hours, following bands of golden light through the twisting corridors, until finally he ascended a flight of stairs to a door marked with the emblem of the sun. It had taken thirty minutes to figure out how the crown worked and he wondered if Rhyos neglected to mention it on purpose. The Astral did seem to take some amusement from his confusion.

It was easy once he figure it out. All he had to do was command a door to open or ask for a way out and the crown did all of the real work.

One last door stood in his path to freedom.

Prompto reached out and pressed his palm flat against the sun. “Open.”

As the door slid soundlessly open, Prompto quickly removed the crown from his head, and with a slight sense of guilt, stowed it away in the Armiger, purposefully hiding it in his bag. The top of his head tingled for a moment.

“Prompto!”

He didn't have time to brace himself before Noctis appeared in front of him in a shower of blue magic. His normally reserved best friend pulled him in for a tight hug and Prompto didn't need to hear his voice to feel the pure relief at seeing him alive.

He saw Gladio approach over Noctis's shoulder, watching the taller man call out to Ignis. They were all relieved to see him, he realized. Genuinely relieved, and not just because of Noct's worry. Prompto hadn't stopped to consider the close bond that had formed between them since leaving Insomnia, but the proof was right there if he ever needed it.

“Sorry, buddy. Didn't really mean to go cave diving, but, y'know,” Prompto said with a shrug. “Next time I'll make sure to drag you with me.”

“Ha,” Noctis responded dryly, letting go of his friend. “We've been trying to find a way to get to you for hours. I wanted to jump in after you, but Ignis wouldn't let me. How did you get out?”

“Just got lucky, I guess,” Prompto fibbed, not ready to explain everything that happened with Rhyos. Maybe later, once he had time to process everything for himself. All he wanted at that moment was dry clothing and food. It didn't have to be Ignis's cooking – he'd settle for some cup noodles if it meant warm food in his belly. “So, where are we camping for the night?”

“Camping, after all of that?” Ignis asked as he and Gladio approached. “I think not. Our funds can handle one night of splurging for two hotel rooms.”

Not even Gladio looked too upset by the proposal, and he was usually the first to protest when there was a perfectly good haven nearby.

“Maybe I should fall into holes more often,” Prompto joked in undertone to Noctis, who rolled his eyes and playfully shoved him.

Ignis sighed. “Do refrain from making a habit of this.”

But Prompto wasn't listening, he was too busy getting lost in the daydream of a hot shower, comfortable bed, and good food in his near future, all thoughts of magic crowns and ancient gods fleeing his mind.

[lillaxtrigger]

Young hope: Chapter 15

The clear night sky befalls upon a brightly lit manor. Its shine reflecting off the dozens of vehicles littered about its massive circular driveway. One more car joins their ranks, its simplistic design contrasting between the two luxurious automobiles it parks between. Out from its steel shell arose the blue boy and his family, dressed to partake in the Gala. “Wow. It’s so gorgeous. You really got lucky, Tore. Scoring the daughter of an eccentric trillionaire?” the mother compliments. “Eh, seems like kind of a bitch to me. Honestly think you could do better.” Mally remarks. “By the way, how did you and that Renee girl meet in the first place?”. Both ladies turn to Tore, the blue boy busy adjusting his tuxedo collar to keep from choking him. “Ah...Ya...Ya know…At-At...At school.” he boy tries to feign while loosening his collar. “Getting enough oxygen there?” Mally worries. “Yeah...Nnn, Fine…”. He finally adjusts his collar to a more comfortable hold, wondering to himself; “Why did Cayenne makes this thing so tight?’.

“Tore, come in. Have you arrived at the manor yet?” Kingsley’s voice rings through a hidden earpiece. Pressing down upon the communicator, he responds with: “Yep. Right when the fires are hot, too.”. “Okay, now when you get in. You know what to do, right?”. “Pfft, course. I do the thing with the- the other thing, then I...I walk around for a bit. Hoard the food. Dumm… Sneak out through the back and fly in the night sky like a sharply dressed glowing bandit.”. “You forgot it, didn’t you?” Cayenne guesses through the earpiece.”. “Nooo...That-that is it, right?”. “Not even close, you dumbass.” “Alright, listen. I’ll go through it, one more time. But you gotta do your best to remember while you’re inside.” Kingsley offers. “Gotcha.”

“Uh, Tore?” he hears his sister wonder. Ahead, he finds her and their mom gazing awkwardly towards the boy. “Who are you talk to?” “Oh, um, uh. J-just practicing my lines when I run into Renee’s dad. Gotta keep up good impression, he he...” Both ladies shrug the answer off and start to head inside. Tore letting out a relieved sigh as he follows close.

Not to long ago, the same blue boy stood in front of a mirror, being fitted for his snazzy navy blue tux. Cayenne adjusts parts of his suit so that it may properly fit, Tore complaining: “Agh. The sleeves are too stiff, the collar is so itchy, the waist is chaffing me… This whole monkey suit is unbearable! How do people stomach wearing these things!?” “Just suck it up, ya damn baby.” Cayenne retort. His discomfort causes him to glace towards Kingsley and ask: “Why do I have go to this dumb ball again, ya know aside from me...Nn, screwing up and stuff?” “Because, I have reasons to suspect that Renee might be going through some… Umm, parental problems, lets call them. And need you to be our eyes on the inside to catch the act.” “Okay, but why at this Gala thing?” “See, Rich parents are always super strict when it comes to their kids during big events like this. Heck, when I was young, my mom wouldn’t let me out of the bathroom until every detail was perfect. Every. Detail. One of Renee’s parents may snap at her in private and need you to catch whoever it is in the act.” “Rrr, but I don’t wanna go to some fancy mansion party. They’re not the fun kinda parties with the overly frosted cookie cakes with demeaning swear words and clearly drunken clowns juggling sticks of lit dynamite.” “What...kind of party are you suggesting?” “My 12th birthday. Now that was a blast.” “Well, maybe you should think of that next time you decide to crash into someones personal life.” Cayenne suggest. “But didn’t you try and do the same thi-” Before he could finish, Cayenne tightens Tore’s bow tie, choking the boy.

After loosening his collar, he than wonders aloud to Kingsley. “I don’t get it. If you think something bad’s happening to her. Why not just pull her out, asap?” “I’d love to, but you might’ve figured out by now that the Buxaplenty’s are a very rich family. They can by off lawyers and judges to free them from most kind of scrutiny, which is why we need to catch them on video. Because if there’s one thing they can’t buy off, its hard evidence. The boy genius then pulls out a floral pin, telling his agent: “This pin will give us video feed of the inside. Once we record it, we can work on getting Renee out of there. This situation will require you to have the upmost diligence if we wanna pull this off. Got it?”. “Diligence?...Diligence…That some kind of pickle?”. Frustrated, Kingsley lets out a sigh, deciding instead to rephrase with: “Just- just sneak around and try not to get caught.”. “Wait a minute...You mean like a secret agent?” Tore gleefully questions. Tore than revels in the prospect of being an undercover agent. Sneaking around facilities, gathering intel, ton and tons of nifty gadgets, famous tropes reminiscent of the spy film genre. An enriching fantasy that rapidly excites the blue boy, making him loudly giddy with uncontrollable enthusiasm. “Well, more of a mundane spy than and agent really, but-” Kingsley tries to deflate, but the blue boy was already far too thrilled as he readies to scream out. “I’m gonna be like James Bond!”. He flies out from the changing room in an eager rush, the sound of his cheering echoing in the proceeding halls. “We are so fucked.” Cayenne remarks. “I’m...Well...he might...Pull a surprise out of his pocket, um...who knows?”. He than finds the girl gazing at him with an unconvinced glare, making Kingsley giving out a nervous laugh before glaring back towards the corridor.

Entering the estate, the family is taken aback by the luxurious décor strewn about the entry hall. The golden chandler that suspends atop the ceiling, its own lights sparkling off its polished finish. The velvet red carpeting laid about the polished marble floor beneath their feet. The fancy platters sporting various miniature hors d’oeuvres ready to be consumed. The large hand painted murals that depicted their aristocratic hosts hung about the walls. All of it giving a such a sense of authentic elegance amongst the countless guests within. “Whoa…talk about pulling all the stops.” Mally comments right after blowing out an impressed whistle. The mother glances over towards the left staircase, noticing a middle aged woman beside the railing and exclaiming with a gasp: “Is that roller blading stunt girl Molly wheelz?”. Mally looks towards the opposite end of the hall, spotting a red headed lady, gushing: “Oh my god! It’s the skating champ, Red thunder!”. Both ladies waltz towards their respective ideals, leaving their blue boy to his own devices.

With a thickly posh english accent, Tore relays to his comrades: “This is agent bluebird reporting. I have successfully infiltrated the facility and ready to proceed with gathering intelligence. Do you copy, orange dingaling?”. “You don’t have use an accent, ya know? You’re not exactly undercover. Also, orange dingaling?” As he hears Cayenne mocking laughter in the background of the feed, he turns is attention over towards the platter table. “Just...walk around and see if you can tail either of Renee’s parents.” Kingsley commands. “Affirmative, proceeding to begin mission.”

The guests pluck from the gallery of hor d’oeuvres as they pass through. Tore lifts his head from under the table, gazing into the delicious array of savory snacks. He picks one from the delicate silver platter in the middle of the table, licking the tiny entree and coming to the obvious conclusion: “Detecting no signs of poison.”. With that theory confirmed, the blue boy proceeds to grasp the entire tray and loudly scarf down the rest of the hor d’oeuvres down his gullet. After swallowing the array of bite sizes snacks, he lowers the silver platter, exhaling a hearty sigh. He then notices some of the surrounding guests staring at him astonished and some with outright disturbed gazes painted across their faces. With a nervously guilty giggle, he lowers himself back under the table. Looking out from under the cloth covered table, he blots away when nobody is looking.

In his escape, he reflects to himself with the inner thoughts of: “That was kinda close. Probably best if I keep a low profile. Don’t wanna blow this whole thing by running into someone important.” As if the whims of fate read his mind like a best selling novel, Tore runs into a wayward blonde dressed in sea foam green. Shaking the crash off, he finds his faux mistress sat upon the velvet carpeting. “Oh man, so sorry!” he apologizes. Rising from the floor, he helps Renee up, asking the daughter of the host: “You okay?”. “Yeah. I’m- I’m fine. How are you enjoying the gala?”. “Oh um. It’s uh...It’s nice. Really fancy, very shiny. Mostly um...nnnnice... Oh who am I kidding. I’ve been here less then 10 minutes and I’m already bored out of my skull.” “Ugh. Tell me about it. Every year, my dad throws one of these stupidly massive balls in hopes of gathering more investors for the family. To be honest, I’d rather stay in bed and snuggle up with a good book.” “I hear ya. I’d rather go fly out and train somewhere than stand around these snooty stiff. Like that guy over there.”. Looking to where the blue boy was pointing towards, Renee’s fixates her gaze upon an elderly gentleman engaging in conversation with a fellow aristocrat. “Just look at him. Stuffy, looks full of himself, and probably paid to have the definition of fun surgically removed from his crusty ass brains. He’s- He’s like- He’s like “Excuse me fine gentleman, would any of you like to consult about the how many golden statues I possess to compensate for the fact that I have lost control of my bladder.” Tore jests with in mocking elderly tone. Some of the guests could hear the couple quietly giggling to themselves. The boy then spots another aristocrats in his sight, pointing over and telling Renee to: “Oh oh, over there! Look!”. Glancing in said direction, she spots a rather stuffy looking couple. “Bet you can’t do it.” “No. No. I-I shouldn’t.” “Come on. You know you wanna.” “Hmm...Oh I know. “I say honey. There is a rather awful smell coming from you’re twisted beard. By any chance have you been using gorilla snot as a hair gel?” “Why yes I have dear. And I dare say, you look rather horrid in your obviously fake eyelashes.” There giggling begins to grow louder, them trying their best not to burst out in laughter. Renee spots another potential vctim of their mockery and points over, asking: “Oh god. Look over there.”. She has her faux boyfriend look towards a rather overweight individual, his suit obviously to small to fit with the buttons struggling to keep it together. “Ooh ho ho wow. Okay, I got a good one. Listen to this.” Clearing his throat, the boy then lets out high pitched mocking tone: “Even everyone. Don’t mind me. I’m just trying to keep my buttons from flying off past Jupiter.” Both of them could barely contain their glee, threatening to burst out in laughing fits. The fat bloke who they mocked captures their attention, saying in the exact tone Tore had given him: “Well, I never. My tone is never that high and my suit is rather durable, thank you.” As the overweight bastard takes his leaves, Tore and Renee stare into one another before they could contain their laughter no more. The guest around them take note of the couples laughter, looking rather embarrassed just being near them. Their chortling dying down, Renee lets out a sigh, desiring: “Yeah...Honestly I just want this night to be over.” “Me too. But, luckily I got something to keep me from blasting through the roof, screaming bloody murder.” “What is it?”. “Ya see, there’s this plan that-” “Don’t tell her the plan, you dumbass!” Cayenne screams through the earpiece. “Ow! Why?” “Tore. We still don’t know what’s exactly up with Renee and her parents. And if you tell her, she might be unwillingly coaxed into spilling the beans.” Kingsley finishes in a much calmer tone. The boy complies, but not without a hint of reluctance. “Mm...Okay.”. “Who are you talking to?” he hears Renee question. Looking back, he finds the blonde staring at him with a worried gaze. “Uhh...”. Gotta think of an excuse fast. “My...My hand.”. Perfect. “You’re hand?”. “Yes. It has a lot to say. Do you want to hear?” he offers, presenting his palm. “Uh...No thanks.”

An uncomfortable pause passes between the two, both internally pleading for anything to break it. Come on, something happening already, please! A thought that loom in the blue boys head as he works up a nervous sweat “Hello children.” he hears a feminine voice greet. Oh thank god. Looking aside, they witness a well dressed blonde woman approach. Renee’s mom? “How are you two enjoy the gala?”. “Uh...It’s great.” the blue boy mentions. “Yeah, parties great mom.” Renee respond. “Great, glad to see you kids having a fun time. But, you two should probably behave yourselves. Everyone is watching you two.”. The daughter quickly withdraws her joyful demeanor, complying with: “O-Oh. Right...”. “I’d like you to come with me dear. There are some people I’d like to introduce you to.”. “Of course.”. Before walking off with her mother, she turns towards her faux boyfriend, ending with: “See you later.” Seeing the happiness quickly drain from Renee leads Tore to think: “Hmm...That was odd. Did Kingsley say which parent was causing her trouble? ...Meh, I’ll just spy on her and see what happens.”.

Watching as the blue boys exploits play out, Kingsley and Cayenne eye the monitor showing the feed within his lab. “So, which one do you think it might be?” she asks him. “Pardon?” “The abusive piece of shit. Which one is it?” “Oh, uh...To be honest, I’m not really certain. For all we know, it could be the both of them. We’re basically going in blind as bats.” “Oh...Five bucks says its the dad.” Another moment of awkward pause passes, thankfully not as painfully long as Cayenne swiftly adds the follow up question: “By the way. How’d you manage to convince your folks to let you do all this?”. “I...I fed them the excuse that I needed to work on a school project and needed peace and quiet to focus.” Cayenne keeps a chuckle from escaping her lungs and questions: “You...feeding them a lie? Yeah, right. Doubt you of all people can lie. Come on, what did you actually do?” Kingsley fails to give her a response, only continuing to stare into the video feed with a worried glare. “Oh shit. You’re actually serious, aren’t you?”. Letting out a weary sigh, he answers: “Cayenne, it hurts that I have to lie to them just to pull all this off. I’m...scared, that this whole family grudge thing would make them force me to never speak to her again. And I can’t risk that. Especially now when Renee might be in danger.”. “Damn...You must really like her, don’t you?”. “To be honest, I’m praying that this whole parental...abuse thing to just be my own delusional paranoia. For one of the few times in my life. I’m hoping that I’m wrong.”

Atop the manor staircase, Tore slid across the 2nd floor balcony overhanging the hall like a crawling worm. He inches towards the railing and looks through the bars, scanning across the 1st floor among the countless guests. The boy spots his fake girlfriend alongside her mother, relaying with a couple of aristocratic gentleman. “They probably wouldn’t do it out the open. Could cause a scene. What to do?” he wonders aloud. Behind him, some of the passing guest could help not but stare at Tore, wondering why the boy was laying upon the velvet carpeting upon his stomach. “Might be best to tail them and wait for when they’re alone to catch em in the act. Yeah, that sounds like the perfect plan.”. Spotting both ladies walking off, he bounces up from the carpet and declares. “Uh oh, looks like they’re on the move. Better get going myself.”. The blue boy then vaults over the golden railing and drops down to the second floor. He spooks some of the guests upon landing on the marble surface, but ignores their shock and continues on with his noble efforts to stalk the hosts daughter.

Tailing the mother daughter duo through the home, he hides behind behind various furniture as they walk through the abode. He literally jumps behind one of the chairs to take cover, alluding at the very least Renee’s and her moms gaze. Seems like they didn’t notice him.

The boy then dives down under another table, looking under the cloth to find the pair still unaware of his near presence. So far so good. Ready to move, he hits his head on the table in his haste, rubbing his top whilst trying not to audibly scream. Tore than crawls out from under the table and dashes away towards his pursuit.

From behind something, Tore eyes his targets as they walk away. Looks like they haven’t noticed him just yet. This spy stuff is pretty easy, actually. Thought it might be more exciting than this. Just then, he feels the thing he was hiding behind begin to move, finding that it was in fact a bulky looking individual, who turned towards the boy with an upset looks. Tore nervously laughs as he backs away from the gentleman. Looking around, he can’t spot Renee our her mom anywhere in site. Shit. Did he lose them?

He hastily pushes himself through the crowd to try and catch up to the Renee and her mom, but fails to find either. Where did they go? Can’t really fly. That would throw stealth out the window entirely. Perhaps he needed another moment atop the stairs to find where they were departing towards. But before he can consider going back up, he spots Renee’s mother amongst the crowd, however with Renee herself nowhere near. Figuring that he might have lost his false beloved, he might as well tail her mom to see if he can pick up any context clues or for the chance she might meet up with her daughter once more. Who knows, really.

Pursuing the mother, he finds her walking beside a group of an aristocratic guests, chatting to one another about um… I don’t know. Something boring or money, stuff like that, who cares. All that matters now is tailing the misses without getting caught.

Going up a set of stairs, the group doesn’t spot their spy, hanging from the side of the case by one of the steps. As they pass through, he can’t help but hear in their conversation, which of course to him goes in one ear and out the other. Ugh, these people are so boring. Why can’t any of these guy talk about something fun for once? Like cartoons, ice creams, video games, an exploding clown, or the hordes of hell on mars, something dammit! Stop being a bunch of boring douche bags! Thoughts that cloud his mind as he’s forced to listen, failing to catch one of them unwittingly stamping on his fingers. He covers his mouth with his hand, to keep his screams of pain from escaping. Soon, he plummet down and hits the ground with a loud thud, catching the groups attention. They look down to what might have made such a crash, only to find nothing of the sorts. Shrugging off the thud, they continue up. Tore hiding behind the descending hall, rubbing his stamped on fingers.

Passing by a decorative cabinet full of priceless glass figures of marine life, they fail to notice the blue boy eyeing them from the atop the cabinet. Getting down from the cabinet, he is about to head out, when something within the cabinet catches his attention. It was tiny glass dolphin figurine irradiating rainbow colors. Oh my god, its so cute. No! Now is not the time to be admiring marine shaped crafts of glass workmanship! There’s a mission to be had. Breaking his gaze away from the crystal mammal, he continues to his goal of pursue the Buxaplenty wife.

Catching up, he finds the group of snobs to have seemingly broken off from the misses, Renee’s mother absent from their group. He looks about to in an effort to try and find her once more. Thankfully, he manages to spot her nearby. It looks like she’s talking to somebody. Please let it not be anymore stiff. Approaching from behind the corridor, he can hear the mother in the middle of a conversation with one of her guests. “Oh its no problem really. I’m happy you got to meet one of your idles.”. “It was really fun to get to know her. I’ve been a fan of hers since I was a kid.” the other guest mentions. He swears the person she’s talking with sounds incredibly familiar. Peeking out, he finds that Renee’s mom is in fact talking to his own. “Really, we invite tons of stars here every year. If our kids are still dating by around next year, we can arrange for some others you want.” “Just like that? You guys must live like kings. And you have such a charming daughter to boot.” “Oh yes. We’re quite proud of our little Renee. She’s been keep up with her grades constantly since we transferred her to public school to keep ahead of the curb.”. “She works so hard. I wish I could give her more time to do the things she loves.”. “Oh yeah. My kids are really something special too. Helping a lot of people and saving plenty more. They’ve grown to be so strong and courageous. It’s too bad Roy couldn’t make it here. Really I couldn’t asks for anything more out of my family...Except maybe for my husband to visit more. He’s never really around as much as he should be.” “Ugh. I wish my husband wasn’t around as much.” “Why’s that?” “Oh, its- its nothing.” “Nu-uh. There’s obviously something.” “No really. There isn’t. Honest.” “Come on. Are kids are dating, we might as well get into the juicy bits. So spill it.” With a disgruntled sigh, Renee’s mother opens with: “My husband is...very stressful to deal with. He’s always been so full of himself. Like I think he genuinely cares more about his wealth and family statue over his own family. Its gotten so bad, that...I...started seeing another man behind his back...” Near speechless, the blue haired mom breaks through, mentioning: “Really?...I...If it’s gotten that bad, than why don’t you divorce him?” “You’re kidding me? You want me to divorce from one of the richest business tycoons on the planet? Heh heh heh...Yeah, right. He’d destroy me in a legal case and take everything I have. Even poor Renee. I can’t bear to put her through any more then what she’s been through.”

Hearing all this, Tore retreats out from the corridor and away from the mothers. “Guess I had Renee’s mom pegged all wrong. She’s actually kinda nice. But if its not her, then that just leaves out...Oh no...” He hurries through the hall, hoping to quickly discover Renee once more.

And sure enough, he finds her, unfortunately with her father. Seeing both of them head down towards a less than crowded hall, he figures that this might be the moment he’s been waiting for. Glancing behind the corridor, he prepares himself with his fake accent: “Time for Agent Bluebird to do what he does best. Check to see if everything is in working order. Floral pin camera, check. Communications, check. Determination...Check-a-roony. Then I’m all set. It’s time to activate stealth mode.”

Back in the lab, Kingsley and Cayenne having listened to the conversation. “Well, guess the moms all clean, making the only abusive piece of shit to be...” Cayenne guesses. “Her dad. I should have known it was him. He can’t be pulling Renee away from the party without a reason. This might be it. I don’t think I can watch.” “Kingsley.” “You’re right. You’re right. Need to pull myself together. Okay, with the floral pin in check, it should be ready to record right about...” the boy relays typing away at his computer. With one more press of the button, a red circle appears on the upper left of the video feed. “Now.” “Damning evidence, here we come.” Just then, they hear the lab door open. Turning about, they see Kingsley’s mom about to walk down. “Hi pumpkin.” she cheerfully greets. Kingsley swiftly turns off the monitor and speaker, both he and Cayenne scramble through the lab in a panic.

When his mom comes down, she finds her son tinkering underneath a piece of machinery, Cayenne keeping up the heavy metal up so he can work. “Oh hi, Cayenne. Didn’t know you were down here.”. “Hey, Ms. S. Just helping Kingsley with his project.” she responds. “That’s so sweet. Um, sorry for the little intrusion, Kingsley. I just need to get something your dad left in here. I promise I’ll be really quick.”. “Aight mom.”. Under the large piece of construction, Kingsley pretends to be busy, the casting shadow hiding his nervous sweat quite well. “The fuck do we do now?” Cayenne whispers, trying to keep the mother from hearing. “Don’t worry. As long as the computer isn’t shut off, it should still be recording the footage. As long as Tore doesn’t screw things up on his end, we should be fine.”

In the lonely hallway, Renee and her father walk along through the well decorated corridors. The fixtures above shining upon the nervous sweat that was drip down her head. They however, do not notice their blue sneaking pursuer, who was quietly singing to himself the theme of mission impossible. Swiftly, he sneaks about the halls, hiding behind the fancy décor laid strewn about the hallway.

Seeing them turn the corner, he follows ahead, but bumps into a wayward stand with a priceless vase atop that was about to fall over. The boy tries to catch the vase to keep it from shattering upon marble floor, juggling it as he tries to keep a grip on the well polished piece of expensive pottery. Finding his grip, he quickly places the vase onto the pedestal and backs away from the worthwhile décor. Taking his leave, he does not notice the pottery falling to the ground with a shatter.

From around the corner, he notices one of the doors open quiet a crack. Approaching the door, he could hear the sound of scolding coming from the other side. Peeking within, Tore finds Renee father fuming at his daughter, Renee herself looking like she’s on the verge of tears. “The way you acted in front of the aristocrats was utterly appalling. Mocking our guests in front of everyone, such an embarrassment.” the father barked. “I-I’m sorry. I promise I won’t act that way again. Please, just calm down, I-”. Before she could finish apologizing, the father smack his daughter across the face, Tore shocked by the sudden attack. As Renee rubs the red spot the strike had left behind, she hears her father continue with: “I thought I taught you better than to act out in public. Are you trying to soil our families reputation?”. Angered by his response right after his assault, she barks back, questioning: “Is that all you care about anymore? Your precious family reputation instead of your actual family?”. Hearing his daughter talk back to him makes the raging father strike his daughter once more, enough to make the girl almost well up in tears. The site makes the blue boy tighten his grip upon the elegant wooden doorway, enough to quietly crack the engraved wood. “Where did you get the spine to talk back to me like that? You been drifting towards the realm of disrespect ever since you’ve been transferred to public school. You are going to straighten up this pitiful excuse for an act and apologize to for your rude behavior. Do you understand me?”. “No...”. “What? Young lady. I demand your respect right this instant!” the enraged father screams. “Why should I respect someone who demands for it? Someone who strikes his own daughter to force her to?”. That statement was the final straw. The fathers tighten his fists in a rage in preparation for one more strike. He readies to strike her with all he’s got, aiming his swing straight down towards Renee. It’s at this moment that Tore has run out of patients, refusing to watch this horror show of parental abuse no more. He burst through the door, dashing straight towards the abusive piece of shit. The father turns around wondering who dares interrupt him. Just when he sees Tore right in front of him, he’s met with a face full of the boys hard fist. The powerful swing was strong enough to send Renee’s father flying into the wall. The entire bedroom shook upon the fathers grizzly impact, lodging him in the wooden wall. Before Renee could process what transpired, Tore tosses her on his back and bolts away. A moment after their escape, the father opens his one bloodshot eye, a growling rage escaping from his lungs.

As they rush through the eloquent halls, Tore presses his finger upon his earpiece, begging: “Come on, someone pick up. Anyone?”. “Wait, were you talking into an earpiece earlier? Who are you even trying to even get a hold of?” the blonde demands him to answer. Hearing no one on the other line, he responds to her with: “Grr. No time to explain. Got find a way out fast. Where’s the nearest window?”. “Its around the corner, but what are you-”. Before Renee could ask a follow up question, Tore quickly turns the sharp corner.

She finds them heading towards a closed window leading out into the night sky. Concerned how her ride isn’t exactly slowing to a halt, she worries aloud: “Slow down, we’re gonna crash right through!”. Right when they were about crash through, the blue boy blast a hole in the wall. The dozens of guests in the backyard of the manor glanced towards the nearby explosion, including Mally and her mom. They watch as Tore leaps out from the smoke with his supposed girlfriend and takes off into the night sky.

Mally and their mom looked at one another and knew exactly what they needed to next. They need to make their escape right this second, before somebody pipes up. But before they could even move an inch, everyone hears someone screaming from inside the manor. The smoke clearing, everyone behold there eyes upon the host of the gala, his face red from not only the attack, but from the fuming rage irradiating form his being. Like this asshole looked like a messed up red beat, he was so fucking angry. Mr. Buxaplenty takes in as much breath as he possibly can and roars out: “That blue bastard flew off with my DAUGHTEEEEEEEER!!!!!”. His roar echoes passed the manor, blowing the leftover smoke surrounding him away. The mans breath returning, roughly turning into a low key growl as he shifts his gaze over towards the two ladies. Once he regains the strength to scream once more, he thrust his accusing finger towards them and shouts at the top of his lungs: “Those two….GET THEEEEEEM!!!!”. Dozens of well suited guards begin to pour out into the backyard and make their charge towards Mally and her mother. The guards on the approach, Mally herself pulls out the grapplyo that Hank had lent her to test. Guess now is a good time as any. She tosses the gadget towards one of the approaching security, slugging one of them right in the face. The yo yo returning, she finds not a single stretch on the wheel. Quite the durable piece of work.

Mally then throws her grapplyo towards another guard, the gadget entrapping the watchmen in her grip. The pixie dressed skater slams the patrolman towards his fellow co workers, all the well suited guards being thrashed down like a hit and run massacre, only the car being one another. Retracting the yo yo, she wonders how strong the gadgets string actually is. Hank, don’t fail now.

Looking towards the fountain, she soon is about to test that theory when she grabs her moms arm and starts to rush towards the decorative water spire. Mally throws her yo yo onto the fountain, and like Hank said, stuck to the drizzling spire like radical sticky tape. She than tugs hard upon the grapplyo’s end, flinging them around the fountain and past the security team. Landing upon the ground, they head down the side of the manor with the patrol on their tail.

In front of the manor, they try to look for their car, looking among the dozens of fancy automobiles. “Do you remember where we parked?” the mom wonders. “Not a clue.”. “Over hear!” a wayward voice calls out. From behind one of the decorative bushes on the side of the front yard, they see a hand waving over to them. With security closing in, they don’t have much choice but to run for the stranger.

Jumping behind the foliage, the security team spreading out to search for them. Behind the bush, they are greeted with the misses of the manor. “Mrs. Buxaplently? What are you-”. “Shh.” she hushes. After looking over the bush, she feels around the ground until grasping at a hidden noose under the grass. Pulling upon the rope, she lifts up the lid to a hidden passage way. “Get going.”. As the both of them climb down, the blue haired mother stops to asks the Mrs. Buxaplenty: “What about you?”. “I wish I could, but I can’t. Who knows what he might try if I run off too. Just get going. Hurry.”. Climbing down the tunnel, their savior closes the passage lid.

Kingsley mother digs around an assortment of gadgets in her search, Kingsley himself still pretending to work on his supposed project. The boy genius begins to get anxious, the thoughts of what he might be missing start swelling in his head. Cayenne hears him quietly groan to himself, whispering to him: “Dude, chill the fuck out. She might hear you.”. “I know. I’m just getting kinda nervous. Our agent is out there blind with no directions at all. Who knows what he might do without us.”. “Just relax, sure she won’t be in here for much longer.”. “But its nearly been 10 minutes. And who knows how much longer my mom might be in here.”. “Found it!” they hear her call out. The mom pulls from the pile a pronged fork like gadget. “Sorry for bothering you so much, sweetie. I’ll leave the two of you alone now.”.

As soon as the mom shuts the door behind her, the two of them rush towards the computer. Turning on the monitor, they see the feed showing them a birds eye view of the city. “What is...What’s happening? Why is he leaving the party?” Kingsley wonders. “Oh, what the hell did that dumbass do now?” Cayenne curses. Turning the microphone on, they ready to speak into the microphone once more.

Up in the starless sky, Tore flies through the city air with Renee upon his back like a flying chauffeur, healing the wounds her father inflicted. “You okay?” he asks her. “I think I am.”. The blue boy starts to hear is friend through his earpiece once more, Kingsley relaying with: “Tore, come in. Tore, do you respond?”. “Kingsley? Finally. Why’d you black out on me, man?”. “Wait, Kingsley? Was that who you were talk to earlier?” Renee sternly questions. “Is that Renee? Why are the both of you flying away from the party?”. A nervous giggle escaping his mouth, he begins to admit with: “So, I might have took the plan in a slight turn, uh...”. “What did you do?”. “Nothing much...Just...punched Renee’s dad into a wall is all.”. “What!” Kingsley exclaims. “Holy shit.” Cayenne laughs. “And I might have snatch his daughter away in my panic.” Tore continues. “Oh my god.” Kingsley groans. “Fucking hell.” Cayenne chortles. “Ahem!” the blue boy hears his passengers cough. Looking over, he finds Renee’s patients quickly draining, him only giving her a nervous laugh in response as he turns back. “Point being...We might need a place to hide...Like ASAP.”. “Uh...You know what, maybe you should just come back to the manor. Just...give me a moment to prepare.” Kingsley tells him. “Prepare for what?”.

“Kingsley Spicer! I cannot believe what I have just heard you say!”. In the lab, Kingsley was confronting bout of his parents, having just told them about his affairs with the Buxaplenty’s daughter. Obviously, they are very pissed, Kingsley drowning in a cold sweat facing their judgmental glares. Cayenne stands to the side, watching the entire shit show before her unfold. “How long have you been going out with the daughter of our bitter rivals behind our back?” she fumes. “Well...It’s...b-been about several months now. But I wouldn’t have to lie if I didn’t really like her.” their son tries to quell. “Buddy. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?” his father sternly questions. Too nervous to respond, the only sound he could muster was a faint groan. “This is unbelievable. I didn’t even think you could lie to us like this. Just what other stuff are you keeping from us?” the mother wonders. “Nnn...we’re...not actually working on a school project.”. After a disappointing sigh, his dad asks the follow up question: “Then what have you been doing down here all night?”. Although he’s quite reluctant to show them, he’s got no other avenue to take.

On the monitor, they review the footage that Tore had acquired, watching Renee’s father not only scold, but strike his own daughter. The parents are left mortified, reeling back with every strike. Kingsley can’t help but clench his fist, the site of seeing his beloved being hurt like this. It truly awakened a deep feeling in his heart. Upon seeing their agent strike her father towards the wall, Cayenne whistles and remarks: “Damn. That had to hurt.”. With all that seen, Kingsley turns off the monitor and turns to his parents. “Now you see why I had to set all this up? I didn’t want to lie to you guys, honest. But the thought of the girl I love going through all of this. I...I just couldn’t take it! I had to do something, anything!”. Both of his parents hear their boy begin to whimper, the tears swelling from his eyes. “I’m so sorry about lying to you both, I-” the boy cries, tightly shutting his eyes in remorse. “Kingsley, stop, please.” his mom begs. The boy opens his eyes, staring at his parents as he hears his dad follow with: “You don’t have to apologize to us. We ain’t not mad at you anymore.”. “Someone you loved dearly was in danger and you did whatever it took to help them. You should never regret that.” his mom declares. Kingsley was truly relieved. Hearing his parents not only understand, but encourage him to follow his heart and rescue his love made him let out quite the euphoric sigh.

“Uh, by the way. If you two were down here all night, than who was capturing the footage?”. Just then, they heard the basement door swing open, looking over to see their blue agent in the doorway. “Evening ladies and gentleman. Agent Blue bird is back from his daring mission of undercover espoinaAAAGH!” Tore announces in the spy accent, but is quickly interrupted when he begins to fall down the stairs. All of them watch as the supposed spy tumbles ill gracefully down the set of step, landing on the basement floor with a loud audible thud. As the indigo agent moans on the ground, Renee walks past, sidestepping him in her worry. Kingsley draws his attention from his agent and more towards his beloved, happily exclaiming: “Renee!”. The platinum blonde turns her gaze away from her rescuer and towards her beloved exclaiming back: “Kingsley!”. The two rush towards one another, holding each other in their warm embrace. The site makes Kingsley parents hearts melt, their son with someone he truly holds dear. The mother gives a soft coo, letting her tears of joy flow through.

Cayenne check up on their blue spy, seeing him try to pry himself off the floor. “You doing okay.” she asks. “Yeah...Did I do a good?” he mumbles in his daze. She thinks about what to say for just a moment before concluding: “Ehhh...Sure why not.”. “HoOrAaaAAaAay...”.

Breaking form their embrace, Kingsley asks Renee: “Are you okay? How bad did he hurt you? Are there any bruises?”. “Kingsley, Kingsley, listen. I’m fine. I’m just happy to see you.”. In the background, the blue bird picks himself up on the floor and dusts off his suit. Kingsley mother approaches the young couple, greeting the blonde with: “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. I’d never imagine that he’d get so much worse.”. Tore than adjusts his cuff links, waving his eye brows up and down towards Cayenne as he did so. Cayenne scowls at the boy, making the boy back away, smiling in a nervous sweat. “And to think. He’d do that kinda shit to his own child.” the dad remarks. “Honestly, I’m glad he didn’t find out about Kingsley and I. He would have exploded if he found out I was going out with someone from his rival family.”.

“Hang on. Something still bugging me about all this. Why is whole dumb family rivalry such a big deal anyway?” Tore interjects. “Come to think of it. Mom never did tell me what happened between all of you guys.” Renee mentions. “Yeah, whenever I asked the both of you, you guys always allude to something happening long ago. Just hinting that you crossed one another at some point. What gives?” Kingsley asks his parents. His mother gives a weary sigh and admits to her sons: “I guess its finally time you deserve to know what happened all those years.”.

Back when I was a little girl, both mine and Remy’s dad had set us up on countless dates to try and get us together. They figured that if our families joined, we’d be the most powerful multinational conglomerate in the world. Remy figured the whole ordeal was nothing short of fate. I felt otherwise. The plan fell through as I drifted away from him, his egotistical madness just too much for me to bear. Least to say, he didn’t take my rejection well. He swore that he would do anything to make me his. Over the years that threat drifted away in the back of my mind, especially when I met your dad. He managed to help me out of the hole of depression that I’d found myself stuck in ever since your grandmothers death and we’ve been happy ever since. A little of a rocky road at times, but we’ve managed to always bounce back. Remy than returned, seeing me not only with someone other than him, but happy with your dad, drove him insane. He couldn’t take it. In his desperation, he kidnapped me, saying that if he couldn’t have me, then on one else could. You’re dad quickly came to my rescue, engaging him for me in what seemed to be a long and brutal fight. Remy nearly won, on the cusp of killing your dad. That’s when I stepped in and saved him. Both of us worked together to put a stop to him escaping with our very lives. From that day, the Spicers and Buxaplentys have been bitter rivals to this day.

The children around the couple were enraptured by their dangerous history. Renee can’t believing that her own father attempted such a heinous act before her time. A lot of things were going through the blondes head, the first thing she says is such. “Oh my...god...I...I can’t believe my dad did all of that to you two. I’m...so sorry. I-”. “Renee, sweetie, don’t say another word. Everything that happened back than was your dads fault. You have nothing to be sorry about.” the mom tells her. “I’m just worried about what he might do to my mom with me gone.”.

All of them suddenly hear Tore gasp aloud, screaming: “I forgot about Mally and Mom! They could still be at the party! I-I-I gotta get back over there fast!”. Not a single step does he take before his phone begins to ring. Pulling it out, he finds his sister calling for him. A relieved sigh escapes his mouth before he answers, gushing with: “Oh my god, Mally. I’m so glad you guys are safe. I thought that you guys might have been trapped over at the-”. “What the hell did you do!” she screams, being loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, and the phone not even on speaker. “Um...Excuse me?”.

Over in an alleyway in the city, their mom was peeking out into the streets while Mally was talking to her brother. “We saw you bust through a wall and fly off with you’re girlfriend. Her dad came out screaming and sent security after us. If it weren't for Renee’s mom. Who knows what might have happened. And it turns out, Mr. Buxaplenty isn’t the only one after us. “What you mean by that?”. “Have you checked the news?”.

Upstairs, everyone turned on the living room television, where upon a news man chimed in, announcing: “You’ve heard it here folks. The eccentric trillionaire Remy Buxaplenty has just laid down a handsome reward for the return of his daughter.”. “Oh no.” Kingsley utters. “Earlier this even, the wealthy couple had thrown their annual Buxaplenty Gala, inviting investors and stars alike. Among them were a family of three, the eldest son claiming to be the daughters boyfriend.”. Upon that statement, a picture of Tore, Mally, and their mother had been displayed beside the newscaster head. “Aw man, I blinked.” Tore mentions. “The blue boy had assaulted Mr. Buxaplenty while discussing matters with his daughter in private, snatching the poor girl away from her loving father.”. Renee lets out a disbelieving sigh, remarking with: “Yeah, right. Loving.”. “Is this a case of a lovers affair, dare I say an extreme showmanship of elopement? Well we here can’t say. Regardless, everyone will be on the lookout for the blue boy and his family in hopes of claiming the 10 billion dollar reward.” “How much!?” Cayenne reclaims. “And they better hurry. Buxaplenty says this offer only lasts until midnight.”.

Kingsley turns off the TV and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Thi-this is fine. No need to panic. Just need to take this one step at a time.”. All of them watch as he begins to nervously laugh, which soon turns to panicked hyperventilation as he goes into the corner of the room. “Kingsley, Kingsley.” Renee goes as she approaches. She tries to calm her actual boyfriend down, hugging him while claiming: “It’s alright. Things aren’t as bad as they seem yet. We can think of away out of this. You just need to calm down.”. Kingsley’s breathing pace begins to slow down, coming to a more reasonable speed. “Right?” he utters. He turns back towards his friends and family and tells them in a far more calm manner: “So. We need to make plans to get Renee and Tore’s family out of town fast.”. With a phone to her ear, the mom worries with: “Nnn...Chloe’s not answering her phone. I hope she didn’t lose it.”. “It’s okay. As long as no one saw Renee come here, we should be safe...”. The boy genius turns towards his indigo agent, asking: “No one saw you fly here, right?”. “A couple. Why?” “Guys.” the dad rings out. Looking over, they find her staring out through the window, asking all of them: “Think you might wanna see this.”.

Everyone looks out the window with her, viewing around and wondering what the father wanted them to see. “See what?” Cayenne asks. “Out there.” he responds, pointing towards the front of the manor. Out from the distance, they could spot a cluster of faint glows amongst a crowd of shadows. “What is that?” Kingsley mom wonder. “Kinda looks like an angry mob.” Tore answers.

A closer look revealed his assumption to be correct. A large mob of people was slowly crawling towards the manor, armed to the teeth with sharp weaponry, torches, guns, some even sporting armed rocket launchers. As most of Kingsley and his friends look towards the mob with uncertainty, wonder, even fear, all Cayenne has to say to the entire matter was: “...Well, shit...”

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

Just something to close out a little story plot that I set up. Just to add a note here, the official map of Townsville was release after this Chapter was long finished. Though I suppose it largely doesn't matter.

[texanredrose]

Because the Monos discord is entirely too encouraging, just a small bit of fun with an Atlantis!RWBY AU. @maburito, a slightly different interpretation of the scene. @cass-burger and @dashingicecream, y’all might get a kick out of this, too. It’s short.

Weiss carefully followed her guide's footsteps, watching every crumbling stone for any hint of falling away from beneath her. When the group unanimously nominated her to be the one to talk some sense into the surprisingly thriving lost civilization, she'd thought the very worst she'd have to do would be stare someone down. But, of course, just like every other little moment of this blasted trip, things couldn't go quite to plan, and instead she found herself drug around the city by the Princess, amusement and wonder shining in bright amber eyes in equal measure.

Of course... she wasn't exactly counting that as a bad thing, not at all. For one, she'd learned more about the ancient Faunus society- their customs, their language, their habits, all the things scholars had only been able to theorize about for centuries- in a matter of hours than she'd thought she'd known for the past ten years, so that could only be counted as a boon. And, well, she'd be lying if she tried implying that she didn't enjoy Princess Blake's company.

"It's just a bit further," the Faunus said, looking over her shoulder as they slipped between two fallen pillars. "I can't believe this."

"Finally, a sentiment we share." As soon as she passed through the gap, she looked around, noticing the algae covering murals and runes, deep etchings into the stone depicting various scenes from the Empire's history or perhaps myths from those times. She couldn't be sure without a closer look but Blake kept moving so she followed, approaching the edge of a shallow inlet. Beyond, she could see one of the Faunus fishing boats, the strange with a small flock of four winged creatures circling overhead. "When we came down here, the most we expected to find was ruins and bones, the vestiges of your people and more questions than answers."

"And yet you came anyway?" The Princess raised a brow, lips curling into a small smirk.

"Sometimes, what few answers we find are worth the questions posed after." Blue eyes traced the outline of a 'guardian', a stone figure leaning among the ruined pillars with boar tusks jutting from beneath a fierce helm; they'd often speculated that such depictions were exaggerations of great warriors. Oh, how wrong they were. "Knowing my grandfather was right. That this place exists- and that its people are thriving." She shook her head, looking back to Blake. "There's nothing in the world I ever wanted more."

The cat ears atop the Faunus' head fell with her expression, amber eyes darting away. "We are not thriving. Look around." She gestured towards the broken pillars, the water flowing through cracks, and the rickety wooden bridge in the distance. "We cling to the remnants of a past we can't remember, hiding in shadows of our forefathers with nothing more than guesses at what it all means." Her shoulders fell, sorrow in her tone. "We were once a great people. The most powerful civilization in the world. Now, we're a myth to the world above... and to ourselves."

Weiss' brows furrowed as she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve for a moment. Comforting people... well, it certainly never qualified as a skill her father thought she should be taught and she never really learned... but it couldn't be that hard, right? "Well... that's... why I'm here. To help you regain some of that lost knowledge."

That seemed to perk the Princess up, a small smile coming to her lips. "There's truth in this. If you can read the murals."

"If I can- I found this place, didn't I?" Taking the challenge, she turned towards the nearest mural- a broken depiction of what she suspected to be Faunus hunters chasing game from different parts of the once glorious empire. "Just give me a few moments to-"

"Can you swim?" Furrowing her brows in confusion, Weiss turned to look at her guide, a question poised at the tip of her tongue but flying from her mind the moment she saw the black fabric formerly wrapped around Princess Blake's torso pulled away. She'd already discarded the purple skirt styled sarong, leaving her in just her undergarments- black cloth wrapped to protect her modesty- in the blink of an eye, and of the sixteen languages she could fluently speak, not one happened to be available to her at that moment. "Weiss?"

The moment amber eyes landed on her, the woman regained her ability to speak... to an extent. "I can- I can swim pretty girl- good, pretty girl good- no, I mean, well I do mean that, but, I swim good girl-" Putting a hand to her mouth and biting in her knuckle to stem the flow of utter ridiculousness spilling from her mouth. She thought she heard a little chuckle, but when she recovered, the Faunus seemed politely interested in her response. If it wasn't too crass, she'd be willing to say Blake would be the death of her. "I. Can. Swim. Rather. Well."

"Are you certain?" Great, now the Princess was teasing her. Perfect.

"Yes." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and matching her guide's amusement with annoyance.

Princess Blake took two steps towards her, amber eyes flicking down quickly. "Even fully clothed?"

... blast.

"While it might be common place for your people to just... strip in front of others, mine prefer a bit more... privacy." She could feel the stutter in her heartbeat as she fought not to blush. Having excellent control over her emotional responses came with the territory of being a Schnee... although it appeared she had more weaknesses in her defenses than she thought, because the way the Faunus smirked at her before turning around definitely did... things.

It wasn't the mechanical monstrosity that sunk the submarine, it wasn't the near cave in that rained down on top of them, it wasn't the giant millipede, and it wasn't the literal fireflies that set the camp on fire- this infuriatingly clever Princess of a lost civilization, with her excellent athleticism and her breathtaking smile, would be the death of her. Frustratingly enough, that would be a rather anti-climactic way for her expedition to end, but she found herself pulling off her jacket and shirt in short order anyway. She kicked off her boots, pulled down her pants, and folded everything to neatly set it together before clearing her throat.

"There. Now, I suppose we can go find these murals." She crossed her arms over her chest, padding over to the water's edge with a skeptical eye. Only when she realized her companion hadn't responded did she look over, noting the amber eyes watching her curiously. "What is it now?" Without a word, the Princess approached her, not stopping until they were a tad too close for the woman's comfort... and only then did she realize how far back she was having to tilt her head to maintain eye contact. Finally, she put a hand to her temple and sighed. "Just say it."

"Why wear them?" The Faunus tilted her head, ears pricked forward in curiosity.

"We went over this already."

"We spoke of your people's... taste in fashion." Well, that was a good deal more polite than the original inquiry, at least. "But why alter your height so?"

"Because it's nice to reach the top shelf of the cupboard- do we really have time for this?" She wanted to be exasperated by Princess Blake's odd sense of priorities, or at least by the amusement still shining plainly in those bright amber eyes, but it was hard to be anything but a touch embarrassed. On the greatest expedition of her lifetime, she was standing there in her bra and panties beside royalty who seemed more amused by her lack of height than interested in what discoveries lay beneath the water's surface. "It's just... something we do."

"Ah, so it's like that... make-up." The Faunus' mouth curled around the unfamiliar word, ears flicking as if genuinely confused. "Why do your people insist on altering what is already beautiful?" She shook her head and turned, beginning to wade out into the water. "I will never understand it."

... beautiful?

Snapping out of the temporary stupor that single word thrust her into, Weiss quickly stepped into the water, wading out after the Princess. At this point, she'd be very surprised if she survived this expedition with her dignity intact... and she was beginning to suspect she'd be alright with that.

AN: ... I’m still rather partial to Catlantis for the name of the city and the Faunus Empire as the whole and the people. If I ever expand this, I’m probably going to straight up call it Catlantis. Yang will be insufferable throughout. Good times.

[askroahmmythril]

Reference List for amiibo Fighter Names (Set 6)

56) Marth : PrizedHero - If memory serves, this was kind of a shared suggestion from friends who were playing Fire Emblem Heroes.  Again, Fire Emblem is not exactly my area of expertise, so given some visual references to work with, I went for it, depicting Marth as a high rarity unit for the gacha system of the game.  I added more capsule machine elements to it to make it a bit more stylized.  Also the idea of Marth popping out of a capsule amuses me.

57) Corrin : Dovahkiin - Pretty solidly a Skyrim reference, Corrin here is the Dragonborn.  GIven what little I know about the actual character of Corrin, the idea worked in my mind.  I wanted to have him charging some Alteration magic just because I really liked how unique the hand effect looked in the game.  Drawing Corrin’s armor was a pain in the tail, that much I remember o.o;

58) Fox : Wildestyle - This one is a reference to Zootopia.  It pretty quickly became one of my favorite Disney movies, so putting Fox in Zootopia worked in my mind.  Of all things for visual references, the scenery came largely from the main menu of the DVD.  I filled it out with a few different characters from the movie, Nick and Judy of course, the business lemmings just because they were easy to fill space with, and Clawhauser because he was a personal favorite character.  And of course I gave Fox a pawpcicle and a Disney phone

59) Ryu : Umeshoryu - This one was a suggestion from Neo, a reference to Daigo Umehara, a skilled player of fighting games.  The Umeshoryu is a technique named as a combination of his name and Ryu’s Shoryuken.  Essentially it’s a perfectly timed uppercut type move that has to be timed just right, or else you’re highly open to punishment.  I had to look up visual references of him, and found images of a unique way he holds controllers, so I tried to replicate that with Ryu.  Which drawing hands is already difficult.  So trying to mimic such a precise sort of positioning of fingers, that was a thing.

60) Mii Brawler : UrbanChamp - A reference to an old NES game, Urban Champion.  Essentially it was a very basic fighting game where you used high and low punches to try to push your opponent off their side of the screen, while dodging flower pots being thrown out windows.

61) Bayonetta (Player 2) : Let’sDance - A combo reference to Bayo’s final dance number at the end of the first game, and Dance Dance Revolution.  Surprisingly, I was actually pretty into DDR for awhile.  The overall scenery is supposed to be a fountain in a park-like area you find as you walk through Vigrid.  I just remember really liking how that area looks.  I was looking over DDR titles and went with 3rd MIX as a title to parody by instead calling it 3rd CLIMAX.

62) R.O.B. (Famicom) : ¥AMATOBOT - Given the Famicom was the Japanese variant of the NES, I wanted to go with some Japanese style to this one.  For the background, I largely took inspiration from the background mural of E. Honda’s stage from Street Fighter 2.  I replaced the banner though with the Japanese writing for Nintendo (I’m honestly not 100% sure which style of writing that is, as I know there are a lot of different names for different styles of characters).  R.O.B.’s pose is a reference to Auto’s pose on his CD Database image from Mega Man & Bass.

63) Mega Man (Gold) : DLN-C3PO - A Star Wars reference because, let’s be honest, he’s a solidly gold colored robot, so it made sense to me.  The DLN references the serial numbers of robots created by Dr. Light, standing for Doctor Light Number.  I debated using Eddie for the R2-D2 stand-in, but in the end, a Met worked much better in my mind, having the more dome shape with its hard hat.  The background was largely taken from Tomahawk Man’s stage, but with a second sun added to reference the desert planet Tatooine.

64) Young Link : 72HourHero - A reference to the game Half Minute Hero, which I’ve always wanted to try out, but never had access to it.  It seemed like a fun concept.  Young Link however is the 72 Hour Hero since that’s how long he has in Majora’s Mask.  The woman with the hourglass is Half Minute Hero’s Goddess of Time, who takes your money to reset the clock for you in each stage.  Skull Kid and the Moon are of course Majora’s Mask references.  I wanted to fill more of the negative space, but didn’t really have any ideas there.  As for Young Link, I accidentally gave him the wrong sword, as I forgot what his sword in Melee looked like.  He’s thus based at least a bit more on his Hyrule Warriors appearance, as that’s what was more familiar to me at the time.

65) Roy : RegionLock - The idea here was that Roy was the only character to not get his game localized outside of Japan.  Honestly, I’m not sure if this is still true or not?  I know there are fan translations, but not sure about OFFICIAL localizations.  The Japanese writing on the nameplate simply says “REGION LOCK” repeatedly, though I’m not 100% sure I have the correct writing for what was intended there?  Question of how much can I trust Google Translate I’m afraid.  As such might be something that needs updating as well.  The other characters shown here are others that didn’t get official translations of their games outside of Japan : Hikari and Donbe from Shin Onigashima, Takamaru from Mysterious Murasame Castle, and Lip from Panel de Pon.  Again, unsure if any of these actually did get official translations eventually, maybe via Virtual Console or NES / SNES Online or such?

66) Snake : Orange Box - One of the most standard cardboard boxes Snake tends to use for cover is simply labeled “The Orange.”  So... the Orange Box.  Which was also the name of a bundle of games released by Valve, made up of Team Fortress 2, Half-Life 2, and Portal.  Thus we have Snake in a Portal test chamber with a Turret aiming through a portal, Gordon Freeman’s crowbar sitting on a desk along with the intel briefcase from Team Fortress 2.  I emulated the Valve logo, but instead wrote Kojima, referencing Hideo Kojima, creator of the Metal Gear series.

67) Wolf : Tankjacker - The overall style of this one is meant to emulate cover art for a Grand Theft Auto game, the joke being that this is how Wolf ended up with his Landmaster in Brawl, just going in and stealing one.  Alas, this reference is outdated since he no longer has it in Ultimate.... but honestly I love the reference too much so I’ll probably keep this idea.  We will have to update his outfit though of course, as this one is still based on his Brawl design.