#i’d like to think that smartass never wanted someone who would bend over backwards for them for everything

[kiwii-11]

spoilers for the balance storyline

i imagine that when elliot, sunshine, aaron and smartass gets their memories erased, the part where smartass tells aaron that they’re an (illegally) informed unempowered and that their ex is empowered still stays.

now HERE IS HOW I THINK AARON WOULD REACT IF OTHER REDACTED CHARACTERS/LISTENERS WERE SMARTASS’ EX (and who i think would potentially be their ex if it were another redacted character/listener):

ps: i got wayyyy too into this, gn reader, talking about boundaries, pre-geordi cutie, use of powers without permission, i wish the best for cutie, this is not to degrade them in any way, it’s just my characterisation of them in their early videos, this is me rarepairing for like a couple thousand words

milo

how they got together:

probably met when milo was working security at an event they went to, like a concert or something.

smartass lost their phone and went to the closest security guard about it. david took it very seriously and had an organised search throughout the venue. milo was the one who found it and promptly returned it to smartass and they were so thankful.

he escorted them to their car and flirted with them the whole time after their friends left the two alone (smartass’ friends just knew milo was their type), and smartass shot their shot and asked milo for his number.

the two set up a date the next week and started going steady afterwards.

talking about empowerment:

milo told them about two weeks after they established their relationship. they decided to keep it on the down low since milo didn’t want them involved with the department. smartass agreed not to tell anyone and didn’t really see why they would need to anyway.

smartass didn’t really believe him at first until they came over to his apartment to see milo just shifting out of his form. freaked out and it took a while for them to calm down. david and asher met smartass the next day when they were leaving milo’s apartment and bumped into them. milo explained the situation and the two decided to stay out of it.

how long they last:

nine months.

why they broke up:

their schedules never aligned properly. if milo was free, smartass wasn’t. if smartass had the day off, milo would be pulling a late night. with smartass starting a new job that was further away from milo, they just thought it best to break up. it was a mutual decision and they didn’t blame each other for the ending.

smartass had become friends with asher, so they’re still loose in contact. milo doesn’t mind, it’s not like he hates them anyway. there were no hard feelings involved.

aaron’s reaction:

“a—a shifter? a wolf shifter? holy shit… he’s… not still in love with you, right? ‘cause like, i don’t want some big ass dog running after me all day. i can’t believe you went from a shifter to an unempowered guy like me…”

he’s so confused. he asked what he looked like and when they showed him some photos from social media, his jaw literally dropped. he pointed at the screen in despair and kept saying ‘you dated this glorious man?’. they deadpan and say that think aaron’s handsome, and aaron says that he needed to take a walk. finds him to be a threat still. 8/10, scared, thinks milo’s a dreamboat.

dear

how they got together:

after university, while smartass was in between jobs, they worked part-time at the cafe that was nearby d.a.m.n. (obv they didn’t know that). dear was a regular and was very straightforward with their flirtations towards smartass.

one day, dear had a special request that smartass be the one to serve them, and when they came to do so, dear ordered as usually but, when smartass asked for a name for the order (second nature atp), dear said ‘your phone number’. smartass was utterly flustered by the small gesture and gave in. they did playfully ridicule dear, but that didn’t change much.

dear texted them later that day discussing some plans to go out. smartass agreed.

talking about empowerment:

dear told them straight up during their first date. they assumed that because they work so close to the academy, that they knew. lots of students worked or frequented there. but smartass didn’t know that. smartass thought they were fucking with them at first, making all the academy and their profession up, until dear realised they really didn’t believe them, and tried to backtrack. that made smartass realise that it was the truth.

also, dear proved it by using their water powers on their drink. the unempowered barista was shocked and had to sit through an hour of dear explaining it to them. they never went to the department because they never had time when dear told them about the classes and everything.

how long they last:

six months.

why they broke up:

because they never had time for the covert classes, smartass couldn’t really spend time with dear and their friends and family. dear never blamed them for it, they knew that smartass was trying to find the job they enjoyed, but it just made things a bit harder.

dear wanted smartass at the elemental and energetic games, but because of them not being legally informed, they couldn’t go. it sparked an argument about priorities and whether wither of them were fit for a relationship at the time, and they ended things. there were some ill feelings, but the two got over it quickly to pursue their own life goals.

aaron’s reaction:

“a water elemental… those people who can drown me? no, i’m not saying they would, but like… you said that they’re strong as hell and a professional. they could if they wanted to. it’s okay, i can swim, that helps.”

he’s concerned because an elemental of any kind if scary to him. being able to manipulate something that’s nearly always around? yeah, he’d leave immediately. but he understands that they’re civil about it. isn’t too worried, especially since he knows the academy isn’t active around where they live. he did have a dream about being on a stranded island, to which elliot had to intervene and turn it into a cute holiday with smartass. 5/10, thankful that dear isn’t crazy.

james

how they got together:

smartass applied for a job at the same company that james worked at, the fact that it was an empowered workplace bring unknown to them. the company chose them as their qualifications fit their bill, and they were placed under james’ orders.

he grew interested in them as they never spoke about their powers and seemed to never acknowledge anyone else’s. they were a great worker and had some bite. smartass also liked james since he never backed down from his ideas when it came to meetings and everything. when he confronted them about their isolation, they were a bit hostile, however they admitted to feeling left out but not wanting to push it.

james then told them about how the others feels a bit confused about them not introducing their abilities when smartass first showed up, but not knowing how to ask. smartass was more confused. james offered to take them out after work to explain everything when he realised they were uninformed.

talking about empowerment:

told smartass he was a telepath during their first ‘date’. they were talking about everything at work and he showed them his powers himself. they were so astounded that smartass nearly choked on their drink. james attempted to make it easier to understand. it did not.

smartass explained to head management that they were an illegally informed unempowered, but they made no moves to correct that. the department didn’t need to be more involved with their business than they already were. smartass told james and he said that as long as they aren’t in the position to get in trouble, then it should be fine.

how long they last:

four months.

why they broke up:

work began to get serious for smartass. so much so that james asked them to quit due to being unempowered. they said that it would be fine as long as they weren’t in trouble, but james didn’t want it to have to go that far. he pushed for them to quit, especially after hearing about project meridian. he was scared, but didn’t tell them that.

after arguments about it, james went to his bosses about releasing you from the company due to insubordination. he assured them that he could handle their work and the company agreed. smartass broke up with james since there was an obvious divide, and staying together only meant more stress. the two of them would get over it after a couple of months focusing on work and on their personal lives.

aaron’s reaction:

“you worked with assholes before you worked with me? what? he sounds like an asshole, he got you fired. do you just have a think for office romance? he’s me, just with telepathy and a much stranger job.”

he isn’t too fussed about james. can see why they broke up and also both sides of the story, but just can’t imagine choosing work over smartass. really does believe that james is a different version of him because it sounds too familiar. he doesn’t hear much about him, so he’s not worried. gives him a 0/10 in terms of worrying about him, thanks james for setting up smartass’s type for him.

cutie

how they got together:

cutie was letting their telepathy loose when they heard smartass singing a song they like in their head while listening to it in their headphones in at the grocery store. they approached smartass and complimented the song, claiming to have heard it through the headphones.

the two strike up a conversation and end up getting lunch together that same day to get to know each other. cutie overhears their thoughts about how smartass likes their personality and thinks they’re pretty. so they ask them out for another date.

smartass agrees, thinking that this was the most they’ve ever had in common with someone else. after exchanging numbers, smartass texts them the next day organising plans. cutie happily agrees to them.

talking about empowerment:

cutie didn’t tell smartass until they accidentally replied to one of the questions they were thinking out loud. smartass was confused since they did ‘t say it out loud and asked how they knew. cutie admitted that they were a telepath and have been using their powers on them without smartass’ permission.

they had a sit down about it to explain the world of magic and how cutie’s been using their powers on them for a while now. it wasn’t well-received, as one would assume. smartass was so upset that they didn’t want to attend any classes about it.

how long they last:

three months.

why they broke up:

because of the dishonesty in their relationship, smartass broke up with cutie. they were distraught that the reason they thought the two of them were such a good couple was because cutie used their telepathy to make it that way. smartass would make this decision only a week after finding out about magic.

they explained their feelings to cutie and how it was a total violation. cutie just wanted a chance with smartass and thought it would be easier to get to know each other that way. smartass disagreed. they blocked cutie on everything. smartass is over it now, but is still not comfortable sharing anything with cutie, even on social media.

aaron’s reaction:

“i can’t imagine how difficult that conversation must’ve been. i’m sorry that… that was your introduction to magic. is there anything i can help with to make it easier? i can make the whole process smoother, i promise.”

feels so bad for smartass. telepathy is one of the powers that is considered scarier (like stealth or illusory). he knows that smartass speaks their mind, so he can’t imagine what they hold back from saying. understands the importance of personal space and never wants smartass to feel as if he’s imposing on that. 2/10, doesn’t think the way they went about their powers is justified, but isn’t worried about them.

porter

how they got together:

back before porter left dahlia, he met smartass at a fancy bar where they were eating at with their old coworkers. smartass was getting a drink from a worker when porter saddled up beside them and struck up a conversation. he was flirtatious and forward, which caught smartass’ attention.

they had to reject his offer to spend the rest of their time at the bar with him, as they were already with a party. so porter gave them his number and said to hit him up whenever they’d like to chat. he left them alone afterwards and went back to drinking with some other vampires.

smartass texted him a few days later on their day off, asking if he wanted to go out for lunch, to which he changed to dinner. they didn’t mind at all. their little dates would become frequent.

talking about empowerment:

porter doesn’t care about hiding his true self. he told smartass about being a vampire about three days after their first date. of course, smartass wanted proof, so he showed them everything he could. he explained that that’s why he was always out at night and could never stay over.

smartass didn’t mind the whole vampire thing. he ended up making their life amusing, always out doing something or taking them somewhere. he paid no mind to the department, so he didn’t see a reason to force them to get certification. he did tell them about it, though.

how long they last:

five months.

why they broke up:

porter was leaving town and smartass was settled in their new job. he knew better than to ask someone to leave their whole life behind for him, so he suggested that they stop seeing each other. smartass was confused about the sudden change and asked if they did something to upset him.

he claims that it was a nice change in pace, and that they’ve already established that their relationship wasn’t normal. he wants them to go back to their life and not have to dwell on his. he wasn’t ready to settle down, he realised. when he told smartass this, they understood that it was acceptable to let a good thing die. they broke up, and it took a month or two for both of them to enjoy themselves.

aaron’s reaction:

“no way you dated a vampire. you’re not joking? jesus… he sounds so fuckin’ wild too. i feel so boring compared to that guy. you said he was out of town the last time you two talked? okay, that’s fine then.”

everything they’ve told him about porter sounds straight out of some intense romance book. smartass never thought anything about it, other than they had fun while it lasted. aaron is most likely shitting his pants. he’s heard a fair bit about the vampire clans, and all he knows is that the solaire family is infamous. he secretly prays to whatever is up there that he’s protected from that crazy british vampire. 10/10 scared of him, not because he thinks that he will steal smartass away from him, but because vampires are a force to a be reckoned with.

[utilitycaster]

I’d love to hear what you have to say about alignment

Sure! So this is in the context of the question, namely, how do you prevent alignment from causing undo conflict.

I think the reason a lot of people get weird about alignment is that they get way too rigid with it and think the people act like programmed robots and not like, well, people, who can be swayed by appeals to emotion or a logical argument.

I also think, now that law is not strictly The Law, but is often called "personal codes", you get the college freshman "well WHAT IF my personal code is CHAOS?" smartass question so it would be best to think of "law" as "order" instead. So your scale is order to chaos and good to evil. This helps resolve a lot of the weird feelings people have about lawful alignments.

Another thing is that I think a lot of people perceive evil as "going around kicking puppies" when that's not how evil looks at all, and similarly people see "good" as "bending over backwards at all costs and never doing anything questionable or harmful on purpose ever". There are people who just want to cause pain and suffering, but often evil looks like "I have a goal that in and of itself is totally neutral, and it's just that I place the achievement of that goal over anything else, but I have a vested interest in appearing pleasant and kind to most people so that no one stops me." Which brings me to the final and most important point:

As with any discrete personality categorization system, it is only categorizing people on a handful of the infinite axes of behaviors and philosophies. There are more than just 9 types of people. Two neutral good people can absolutely detest each other if they have different ideas of how to achieve good, and a chaotic neutral character can hit it off entirely with a lawful good character if the lawful good character's ideas seem fun or interesting to the chaotic neutral character or vice versa. So basically if you have conflict, alignment is only one of the infinite places to look.

So anyway: alignment is actually very useful in getting a quick sketch of a character's belief system, but it should be understood as "what informs the goals they have, and how they will approach those goals and adapt to them". For what it's worth, I do usually limit the evil alignment in my campaigns; but that's because often the motivation for the characters is "hey, you should want to help someone" and evil characters obviously won't feel that way; but "reasonable evil" is often easier to play in a party with than "perfectionist good".

[for those who follow me for Critical Role stuff: Percy and Keyleth have the same alignment - and I think that's a correct assessment. But they have wildly different philosophies on how they will achieve good things and what they will do, with both of them having some profound flaws in their earlier approaches that later on become more healthily balanced. On the other hand, Fjord and Caleb have very different alignments to start, but after some early clashes they find themselves to be very similar. Notably, Percy, Fjord, and Caleb all fall firmly towards the pragmatic and Keyleth is very idealistic, and I think that that mismatch says much more about who's going to fight with each other than the two dimensions of alignment we have. Good and Evil can get pretty far together, actually, and order and chaos can often come to an agreement, but pragmatism and idealism are almost always at an impasse.]

[gravityfissure]

All Good Things End : Deirdre & Otto

Summary: Deirdre summons her mushroom husband for his final sacrifice. TW: Blood, Injury, Mushroom Manipulation PARTIES: @deathduty & Otto

"We're all gathered here today to witness a truly beautiful event: the death of Otto." Deirdre, host, waved her ceremonial toaster around. The rest of the fae in attendance, mostly pixies and leprechauns, lifted—or attempted to lift—their own toasters. She'd forgotten what the toasters were supposed to represent exactly, other than their triumph and humanity's inferiority, but most things usually represented that. She turned to her husband, and smirked at him. She recalled their dalliance in the cemetery, their wedding in the woods and the escapades that followed. She was almost sad to be rid of him now. He was, perhaps, the funnest human she'd ever ensnared. Out of fondness, or nostalgia, or something else entirely, she gestured to him and her gaze softened. "Do you have anything you'd like to say, Otto? You're allowed some words before you die." The pixies gasped in unison; it was customary to get the humans to be as silent as possible, during these things—their voices were largely annoying. Deirdre shook her head and quickly explained to them, "Otto is my guest, and my human. He represents me, too. I want him to speak." And so she allowed it.

How the hell had this become his life? It was a thought that crossed his mind rather often and one that crossed his mind right now as he made his way up to the spot that Deirdre had ordered him to come along to. She’d instructed him to clean up, wear a nice nose piercing (for he’d gotten a selection from the store with his punishment) explaining the black steel ring that pierced his right nostril and not tell anyone about what he was doing. Things had not been good of late. Whatever the hell had happened at the bar, the fact he’d been forced to live as nothing more than a mundane human. Wash the dishes. Brush his hair. Empty the trash. No snap of his fingers and things took care of themselves. Worry had kept him up for several nights, waiting for any hint of it to come back. It had to come back didn’t it? Hells there was no way this could be his life. No way he could live without the essence of his very being. The toll was clear, even with the effort he’d taken to make himself look presentable.

Admittedly a loophole he’d found in that instruction was that he hadn’t been told not to tell anyone where he was going, explaining the google-maps pin he’d dropped Mercy, Jane and Cece for good measure. If someone did need to do corpse collection… Well, at least they had a start on where to find him he supposed. The phone had been tucked away and forgotten as the new ceremony began. Different this time and Otto truly wasn’t sure what to expect he couldn’t see any knives that Deirdre had claimed to be fond of in the past so maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. The myriad of thoughts running through his mind was distracting, and when he was finally invited to speak and say someone Otto was at a loss for words; a rare occurrence on any normal day. “I guess-- Actually yeah, are there drinks? I’m way too sober for this shit,” maybe he could stall for a bit, though a drink also didn’t sound like a bad idea either right now. “Honestly, I’d kill for a cocktail before I kick the bucket… It’s a personal nightmare to go out stone cold sober ‘cause that’s absolutely not what my life’s about.”

“Drinks?” Deirdre glanced around, regarding the fae in attendance. “Did we bring drinks?” The fae murmured to each other, pixies fluttered about until a leprechaun hobbled forward, offering solem clicks and whistles of disappointment. She turned to Otto. “No drinks.” Which was suddenly very unfortunate, because she was craving some too. “But I like your spirit, Otto! Is that all the last words you have to offer? Usually the humans start begging now. They tell me all about how much money they can offer, about any children or lovers. They get very desperate, I love to see it on their faces.” She turned to Otto, smiling. He seemed...okay, strangely enough. Not that Deirdre was any expert on reading human’s facial expressions, they all looked mostly the same, and were too ugly to pay attention to. But this man, fun and carefree, gave her no sobbing or begging. Suddenly, she boiled with anger. “BEG FOR YOUR LIFE!” She threw her toaster down at his feet, snarling. “GIVE US ENTERTAINMENT! You think this is a game, human? I gathered my friends here to watch something good, and your smart quips are getting us—“ a Leprechaun whistles at her. Deirdre snapped around. He swished a half-empty bottle of wine. “Never mind, I’m being informed we do have some drinks.” She took the bottle and offered it to Otto. “Here, now you can die slightly tipsy.”

“Oh come on,” he protested at the shakes of multiple little heads in every direction “I thought this was meant to be a celebration of your totalitarian toaster termination techniques on full unadulterated display… That you guys knew how to party.” The clarification that normally this was the point people started begging for their lives was met with a twist of his mouth and mildly distasteful look. “Well, I mean I can’t really do that because I don’t have any of those things. Kids suck they’re so whiny and really who has the commitment for a partner when people just end up letting you down in the end, you know?” he glanced at a wizened old leprechaun who seemed to mull on this statement and nod in agreement before taking a puff on his pipe “see? This dude, he gets it.” It’s so much effort for so little reward.” Perhaps now was not the time for philosophical questioning but it was what came to mind. - if it’s a time for confession guess there’s no better time to say thanks for the motorcycle I conned you into buying for me. Really was swell of you.” But any further smartass remarks were put on hold as he dodged the toaster lobbed in his general direction and found his knees giving out as he threw himself on the floor against his will. “No- NO PLEASE!” tears welled unbidden to his eyes as he clasped at Deirdre’s boots the sobs rising against his will “I’LL DO ANYTHING, I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT! PLEASE JUST-- DON’T KILL ME! IT’S NOT A GAME! I SWEAR. PLEASE I-” he hiccuped, swallowing air “ Pleasepleaseplease.” The sobbing at her feet continued despite the profference of booze for the command to stop had not yet been given.

Deirdre frowned as Otto spoke, she reached a hand out to lay gingerly on his shoulder. “Otto...are you sad and lonely?” The fae looked at her pointedly. She flushed and withdrew both her concern and her hand, but thought to elaborate. “Having a partner is great. I love my girlfriend. I don’t believe people let you down always, sometimes they surprise you.” The leprechaun clicked his disagreement, and Deirdre waved the conversation away. “You conned me into buying you a motorcycle?” She thought about it, and expected anger or pride to come to her. Anger for the audacity of a human to think to trick her, and pride that her subordinate had tried at all. Mostly she was just...disappointed. “Why didn’t you con me out of more than just a motorcycle?” She asked, “I mean, I have the money to give you more. What’s a motorcycle worth? Like a measly few thousand dollars?” It was good then, that he started to beg, and her mood lifted. “Yes, you pathetic urchin.” She hissed and snapped her feet away from him. “I think we’re good to begin now, don’t you?” She smiled and turned to her fellow fae, careful to keep herself out of the ring again. “Stop your begging and be quiet, Otto. Now it’s time--” The pixies struggled to play their flute, leaving the air with a discordant whittling that stung Deirdre’s ears. A leprechaun banged his toaster to create a drum beat, as horrible as it was earnest. Deirdre hissed again and picked Otto off the floor and shoved him into the circle. “Go impale yourself on the tree branch there.” She pointed at the one that had been sharpened for this purpose. “Take your time though, I do like a slow death. And you may do whatever you like before you’re impaled, so long as you stay in the circle, and it doesn’t take too long.” She waved her hand in the air. “Or if I find it boring.”

Otto’s eyes widened for a moment before he laughed, well and truly laughed deeply at the notion. “Oh hells, me? Lonely? No. Lonely’s pathetic, I’m definitely not pathetic.” But then again, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder. Would anyone ever notice? Would Mercy, Cece or anyone else in his rather truncated list of acquaintances even bother to come out and look for him? “Sure did, was fun watching you bend over backwards to save your friend’s face. Can’t say it worked but it was fun to watch either way.”

But then the wet mud was soaking into his knees, immaculate nails clawing for purchase on Deirdre’s shoe that soon retracted leaving him falling facefirst into a pile of moss. As the urge to beg rescinded, he lay there for a moment gathering what little remained of his dignity and pushed himself up to his feet. Spotting the leprechaun nearby about to drain the wine he snatched the bottle out of its tiny hands and gulped it down, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. Deirdre was speaking again though and the horrible irony of everything he’d been told dawned on him.

You’re not dead.

It was this thought that drifted through his mind as Otto walked with purposeful steps towards the sharpened bark. A haze of strange determination silencing all questions or thoughts that this was wrong. That he needed to run. No matter how much his mind screamed, rending itself apart.

The sharpened tip pierced the soft flesh of his abdomen, a slow progression as steps faltered and blood began to trickle in a cascade, staining the front of his shirt. A second and third followed, and as the crimson rivulets flowed their course twin tears glistened in hazel eyes. The dawning revelation of a truth Otto had always denied.

Perhaps he was lonely indeed.

Too late to do anything about it now though.

Delight spread across the fae like wildfire, infectious and brighter the longer it burned. Deirdre watched curiously. She waited for the same delight to reach her. And she waited. And she watched, and she waited. And yet, the only feeling that entered her as she watched Otto impale himself was something cold, and then sharp; something she wouldn’t dare put a name to. Emma’s eyes flashed in her mind, the look of desperation that gleamed there, and the hope that sat on her lips that Deirdre might free her. She couldn’t see Otto’s face now, and she felt all the better for it. “Stop,” she told him, “stop that. S-stop doing that.” Her command was barely a whisper above the din of celebration, fae poured into the circle, ready to party--dancing progressed around Otto’s limp body, and the music grew louder and further away from any pleasurable tune. The mushroom drums in her own head grew silent, and she left to watch the fae as an outsider to their delight. Once, she had been a child peeking from behind old trees, watching the fae with their wings and wondering when it would be her turn to be like them. The feeling she had chased for so long fluttered around her, it was cheered on by the congratulatory clicks and whistles of the leprechauns, but it could not find her heart. An organ she had long since suspected she’d lost sometime ago, some many deaths before.

She turned her back to Otto, to the mushrooms and fae surrounding him, and she walked. “I want to be good,” she told the trees as she stumbled around them. “I want to be good.” She willed the feeling to reach her. She willed herself to feel anything at all. But where she fell to the ground, staring at her unstained hands, she found nothing.

Nothing inside of her.

Eventually Otto reached a point that his feet could no longer find purchase enough to continue walking. Or perhaps it was simply the gradual weakening that came with the blood-loss. Blood-loss that left him feeling cold and tired. Tired in a way that was bone deep. There was no method to question on his lips to implore them to stop and let him go so that he might live his life. The feelings that swirled in his chest were those of anguish and an aching loneliness for which words were inadequate to describe. Loneliness he'd laughed so heartily at not five minutes prior. So maybe Deirdre was right. Perhaps he was… But too little too late.

I thought this was meant to hurt less. It always sounded like it would hurt less .

Where the voice in his mind came from he couldn’t rightly say. No warm embrace, no bright light or whatever the hell you were meant to get if this truly was the end. Just empty darkness. Even as he reached for his magic, gone since that night at the bar. Just an echo, but that’s all he was now wasn’t he? An echo of what he should’ve been. The breath rattled in his throat, life slipping away in the trickle of his lifesblood as the cold grasp of darkness coiled tighter around him; his life served forth by fate's own servant to the overture of cheerful clicks and whistles.

Perhaps someone will remember me.

[a-tale-of-moons]

Chapter III: Patriots In the Night

I certainly never conceived I’d be saying this sentence; the undead is serving me soup.

There are rumors that in big cities, the extremely affluent exhume the bodies of those too poor to buy protection and fill them with enough living essence to do their bidding. Growing up in Willowbrook, I assumed I’d never have the means to confirm or deny such a heinous accusation.

In small towns, we let the dead lie. The closest we come to meddling with the affairs of the dead is our belief that occasionally the spirit of the deceased resurrects inside of a living vessel, like a beloved animal.

At first glance, they look almost alive. But, upon closer inspection, the skin is sallow with a plasticky film. Which I can only assume is some sort of preservation technique. The eyes are focused to such a fine degree that it is unnatural. Even their smiles seem painted on and disingenuous.

“They call them phantoms. The wealthier you are, the more phantoms you can afford,” Jacoby whispers to me while we’re sitting at the table. “They’re barely sentient. Just husks of once people with one-track minds, if that isn’t too generous a term. No emotions. No free thoughts. They can only take commands and follow them out. There’s no reasoning with them either. So, keep your distance.”

“Rich people are so…” I whisper back, baffled at the lengths those with money will go to flaunt said money to other people who also have money in their inane competitions. It sickens me to my stomach.

“Well, as of this moment, you are one of those “rich people.” Jacoby reminds me before he straightens up and turns to make conversation with Esper. Although I know he’s just trying to help keep our facade as strong as possible, I can’t help feeling chastised. He’s right, of course. I am one of these people. And if I act any other way, it means death for all of us. I have to start thinking more like a princess and less like a boyish orphan from the countryside.

Our audience with the king and queen isn’t for a couple more days. This week is purposed for the prince and I to get acquainted. We have an entire itinerary that includes things like walks in the royal gardens and private lunches. Also, there is a performance to be held at the end of the week in honor of my arrival where I’ll make my first public appearance as future crown princess. I want to be nervous, but I’ll have every evening until the performance to wallow in my anxiety; so, I choose to savor this moment of relative ease.

Besides the walking dead, the dining hall is beautifully decorated. Braeins sport their colors with pride, I’ve noticed. Blue and silver tapestry hang to the side of every window. Blue linen adorns the ornate, wooden tables. And adjacent to every window is a sparkling flag. Growing up in a tiny village where if you're not starving that means you're in someone's good graces, I can't imagine having so much pride in that. Love for the people, yes. And appreciation for the blessings, yes. But, pride in an invisible, unreachable country where the chosen lot live in luxury and the discarded others fend for themselves? When I know Ama is wasting away in her bed while these nobles stuff their faces with handfuls of privilege, it's impossible to find a place in my heart for patriotism.

I'll play the part of a spoon-fed princess for as long as I have to in order for us to get back to Ama, but I'll never consider myself to be truly apart of these greedy people's ranks. And that, I can take pride in.

During my quiet survey, I notice the prince taking glances at me. My first instinct is to tell him off before I remember where I am and who I’m supposed to be. Of course he’s curious. I’m his bride-to-be. I suppose I should be curious about him as well. He’s handsome; that much is obvious. And he seems to be amiable enough. Definitely not a nose in the air type of royal. I can appreciate that. But, I do have to consider that he’s mingling with “the princess”. If he knew I was just a poor orphan from one of the discarded villages he and his royal posse or whatever they’re called deem unfit to bother with, maybe it would have been a different introduction.

Throughout the dinner, I do my best to obey Jacoby’s instructions. Polite, and brief. Don’t say much more than I have to. So when the prince addresses me, asking me about our journey, I simply mention how hot it was. But, when I feel Jacoby stiffen beside me, I know I’ve already said the wrong thing in so few words. It takes me a couple of stalled beats, but the realization dawns on me. I’m a princess. Or, ...a thief playing the role of a princess. I should have been in my comfortable carriage, shielded from the sun, being fanned by my personal servants and drinking the chillest water that’s been fetched from the clearest of rivers. There is no reason for me to have felt any sort of temperature I found displeasurable. With the daintiest flick of my wrist, I should be able to have anything I desire. Moreover, I can dismiss anyone who doesn’t bend over backwards in pursuit of those desires, no matter how silly or trivial. And absolutely no one would dare accuse me of being unreasonable for it. The world is within my palm. I should want for nothing at all.

So, for me to complain about my journey being uncomfortable in the slightest is a dumb mistake I’ve made before the dessert has even hit the table. Elora may have been right. Should I have fought harder for my sister to take my place instead of letting my own ego get the better of me? Perhaps.

“Hot, huh?” The prince seems to mull over my words. And although irrational as it would be, I fear he’s going to see right through our facade at this very moment and throw us all in the dungeons to await our shared fate. However, his gentle grin doesn’t falter for even a second as he says, “It can get quite warm even inside of a carriage with this weather. Today, we’re cursing the heat. And soon enough, we'll be cursing the cold. Funny, no?”

“Quite,” I say, biting back the relief that pulses high in my throat.

This is only the first of the intimidating list of mistakes I make during the various courses.

The dinner passes in long pauses and heavy sighs. I couldn’t be worse at this if I tried. My hubris is going to be the death of us all. By the time the prince is bidding us goodnight and Jacoby is escorting me to my room for retirement, I have to hold in tears. Not the sniffle and whimper kind, either. It’s the tears that make me say a prayer because I’m afraid I’ll really just suffocate with my face in a pillow.

“Tomorrow will be better,” Jacoby says and pats my shoulder. I can hardly look him in the eyes. I’m so ashamed I may just curl in the tiniest ball I can manage and evaporate into the air. Not much harm I can do anyone as a particle floating through the universe.

“No one died. Stop looking like that.” Jacoby lowers himself on the enormous bed beside me.

“Not yet,” I say, finally looking at him with wet, itchy eyes.

Jacoby huffs. “The only one dying around here is me, of boredom! All the money he can wish for with the freedom to roam, much more than a princess has, and all the prince talks about are his horses and the gardens.”

“I’m serious.” I'm borderline shrieking. “I might get us caught and beheaded.”

“Delighted to make your acquaintance, Serious,” Jacoby says with a dumb smile. “I’m Reasonable. No one’s getting beheaded. It’s been a stressful few days. I’m not going to lie and say the hard part is over. Truthfully, it’s only just beginning. But, by tomorrow, the prince will have forgotten all about your tongue slips. So, be careful not to make anymore and we’ll all be just fine, yeah?”

Maybe that’s supposed to be comforting. All I hear is our fate is hanging suspended over a bottomless pit. Too many hacks at the frayed rope and we’ll be consumed. And I’m the one tasked to safeguard the rusty axe that does the aforementioned hacking in my sweaty, tremoring fingers. Ah...very reassuring.

“As relieving as it is to know our lives are basically in my hands, I think I’ll refrain from hearing the rest of this moving speech,” I say. “Wouldn’t want the well of wisdom to run dry. Because, whatever would we do then?”

“I can take a hint.” Jacoby gets up, straightening his robes lazily. “Try to get some sleep, alright? You’re having a picnic lunch with the prince tomorrow. Just before high noon, some ladies will come and help you get ready. And then after that, you’ll have lessons with various tutors.”

“Tutors?”

“Yes, tutors.” Jacoby confirms with a nod. “The princess is expected to be highly knowledgeable about most subjects. Mathematics, arts, science, and even a bit of politics. Not enough to rival your male counterparts. But, enough to sit in on discussions and make intellectual interjections.”

Groaning, I throw myself back on the bed. “Foraging in the blazing heat is easier than being a princess. You should have let Elora do it. She’s better at this stuff than I am. She’d probably even have fun. Meanwhile, this corset is making me sweat in places I didn’t know sweated until today. Plus, I’ve started to perfect breathing every two beats instead of one so it’s not digging into my spine constantly. As pitiful as it sounds, I’m actually kind of proud of myself.”

“Elora? In charge of sensitive information we need to save Ama’s life?” Jacoby deadpans. “If that sentence actually sits right with you, that corset is tighter than you’re letting on. Look, I need to squeeze information out of Esper, so I can get it back to you. I’ll come back later to say goodnight.”

After pressing a kiss to my forehead, Jacoby takes his leave. Soon after he’s gone, a group of women sweep in to undress me. I wonder where Elora is as the women pull my limbs this way and that. I actually miss her, smartass quips and all.

By the time they’re finished, I’m left alone in a flowy nightgown that looks too exquisite to be worn to bed. I gaze toward the window. It’s well into dusk. But, I’m not tired. Oddly enough, all throughout the day, especially at dinner, I could only think of when I would be able to sink into this colossal bed. Now that nothing is stopping me, I couldn’t be more disinterested in sleeping. I look to one of the huge flags hanging on the wall. I know now that the prince’s room is just on the other side of the wall that particular flag is hanging on. I wonder if he’s also getting ready for bed.

It only occured to me briefly before that I might have to hold his hand. Maybe kiss him. Pretend that I’m falling in love with this man I’m destined to betray. I’ll have to deceive him. Lie straight to his face without so much as twitching or blinking out of tune. If I continue to bumble along like tonight, we’ll all be drug into scrutiny. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.

Feeling strangely energetic, I slide my feet into a pair of slippers and venture out into the looming hall. It’s dimly lit. And empty in a sinister way. Maybe it’s meant to be that way. I only remember the dead-eyed phantoms when I hear something that sounds too much like feet scuffling. My heart thumps to an off-beat tune. Suddenly, I feel a chill that makes me shiver all the way to my curled toes. It’s as if my body senses it before my eyes have a chance to process.

At first, it looks like a regular servant, arms heavy with bundles of candles. But, it doesn’t take long for me to notice the way it barely shifts. It doesn’t take a moment to shiver from the cold. It doesn’t allow its eyes to roam around the empty hall. It’s so focused on its task that my throat goes cold and my chest tightens. The other end of the hall doesn’t lead out. This is a little hallway purposed solely to house the prince and princess’ rooms. And I’ve already roamed too far from my room to go back. The only way out is to scuttle around the phantom as it passes. And the thought of having to get so close to it when I’m completely and utterly alone makes me want to cry. It’s gaining on me and I have no way of escape. So, I hold my breath and brace myself to rush past it.

But, before it gets close enough, the prince’s door opens and before I have time to think I rush inside and press my back against the wall, panting lightly. I know I’m being stared at, but I can only laugh hysterically as the relief floods inside of me. I feel at ease and stupid all at once. Of course, the phantom doesn’t dive in behind me in hot pursuit. It shuffles past the open door and goes about its business of light maintenance. Buzzing like a jack rabbit, I remove myself from the wall and force myself to look at Nathaniel. I expect him to seem disturbed, or surprised at the very least. Instead, he looks almost as if he’s holding back a laugh of his own.

“They take some getting used to,” he says. “But, I promise they mean you no harm.”

Adrenaline is still pumping like molten lava through my veins, so I can barely manage a jerky nod. Nathaniel poses me a speculative expression before closing the door and crossing the rug to sit on the edge of his mammoth bed. I notice he’s still in his robes from dinner. He pats the space next to him. I hesitate for a moment, supposing I should feel scandalized. I’m in a nightgown and slippers, drowning in the belly of this man’s room. My soon-to-be husband, sure. But, still...a princess of quality breeding should know better than to mingle unattended with a man who isn’t yet her husband.

How fortunate that I’m of rather seedy breeding then.

I sit next to him.

It’s my first time being so close to any man who isn’t one of my brothers. And I would hardly call Jacoby or Pond men. More like men-like creatures who still think it’s funny to shove their saliva-drenched fingers down my ears. Nathaniel is a full grown man of twenty. He smells of vanilla and musk. I realize that my palms are uncomfortably moist.

“I always imagined I’d meet my wife on one of my courageous adventures. I’d probably save her from having her soul devoured by a demented necromancer. Then, we’d fall in love and I’d make her my queen,” Nathaniel says, voice low and hands clasped. Nostalgic. “On the eve of my seventeenth birthday, my father told me of a beautiful, accomplished princess from a small textile kingdom whom I was already betrothed. I was furious. I stomped around the castle for months, throwing tantrums like an overgrown child and detesting the very thought of you. Then, at some point, I stopped being angry. I realized you were thrust into this just as much as I was. I was born into a life of privilege and I’m arranged to be wed to a charming and intelligent young lady. Oh, poor me.”

I have no words. I always imagined royals to be selfish and narcissistic puppets, incapable of having thoughts that stretch further than their distaste for the buttered rolls at supper or the color of their bed linens. Being brought up in a poor village bordering a tiny kingdom where even the privileged few are just getting by themselves, it’s easy to believe the stories of the gluttonous aristocrats. It’s comfortable even, just to figure they don’t care enough about anyone else.

I look up, and notice he’s giving me that mysterious look again. His lips are smiling, but his eyes are heavily guarded, careful not to disclose his thoughts behind them.

“I grew up privileged as well,” I say tentatively. It’s not a total lie. I never went hungry or had to beg for necessities on the side of the road. Ama provided for us as well as she could and we were always content. “That being so, I understand I have certain obligations and responsibilities. I’m sure you’d prefer as much as I would for more of a choice in this. However, if this is the way it has to be, I’ll do my best to make this a pleasant arrangement. If you are willing to do the same?”

Nathaniel takes my hands in his and I startle a bit.

“I am more than willing.” His eyes are so penetrating I feel like the oxygen has been sucked from my body and I’m breathing on borrowed air that will eventually run out. “This is my future, our future, at stake. And it’s going to be bright. That, I can promise you.”

I can hardly do anything more than nod. My chest is tight, conflicted. Not only am I going to steal from this man who has shown nothing but kindness to me. I’m also stealing the actual princess’ place in his heart. And I can’t be sure if she’s alive or dead. I’m a monster.

“It’s getting late now, and I have some work to finish before I retire to bed. I have something I want to show you, though.” Nathaniel stands, still holding my hands, and I rise with him. He leads me over to one of the many flags displayed in his grandiose room. I’m confused for a moment. He can’t possibly want to show me the Braein flag. It’s in every room I’ve been in so far. Then, before I have a chance to ask he lifts one end of the flag to reveal a brass door handle.

“It’s a little passageway that connects our rooms,” he says. “I’ve had the dirt cleaned and the cobwebs cleared. You are free to lock the door on your end at any time, but mine will always be open for you. If you want someone to talk to, or just a place to hide from your ladies-in-waiting, you are welcome.”

“Thank you, Prince Nathaniel,” I say.

“Just Nathaniel.” He smiles.

“Why are you so perfect?” I sound incredulous, even to myself.

The prince makes another one of those expressions I’m so caught up in decoding that I just barely am able to process his actual words. “I’m nowhere near perfect. There are some unsavory details about myself I’m being very careful to keep from you. And I hope I can keep it that way. But, you, Princess? You truly are flawless.”

“You say that after I made an imbecile of myself at dinner?” I scoff and look away. “There is no need to flatter me with lies.”

With a finger under my chin, Nathaniel gently guides my face his way. “In an earnest attempt to impress my royal court and bring honor to your kingdom you exposed an emotion so human as anxiety. Can't quite consider that a fault. Actually it was rather endearing.”

I can only spare a moment to relish in the gentle warmth that spreads across my chest before it hits me. Something like light tugging just above the nape of my neck. Of all times, it chooses now.

The distinctive tingle in my scalp sets my face on fire. In an instant, I’m mortified.

“Princess, is something the matter?” Nathaniel’s voice sounds like an echo in the wind. I’m so ashamed I simply make a weak apology and excuse myself in a hurry so I can flee back to my room. I’m so aghast I don’t even spare any energy to be afraid as I whip past the phantom and dive inside of my room, pushing the door shut behind me and collapsing on my bed.

The tingle ensues and I’m so out of breath at this point that I take in large and labored gulps of oxygen, hoping something can cool the inferno raging through my ribcage.

Am I blooming?