#in Harding’s quest a companion says they feel we’re being watched and I happened to see a red light in the distance

[raezlove]

I’m playing through Veilguard again and it really hurts when there are these really good bits and even small things I missed the first time through because I’m reminded that they had the potential to do so much more with better quality but instead we got this lukewarm game that leaves so much to be desired.

[vigilskeep]

there are so many things in veilguard that have made me go "wait what??? okay i guess i have to totally rethink the character i'm roleplaying now" that it's literally impossible to guess what thing you're referring to as The Thing That Happened. obviously extremely curious to hear what it is once you've detangled it

it’s kind of like that but it’s also less that and more... okay i should probably just say it, i’m being weird and unhelpful and i need to write it out anyway so i can think

MASSIVE SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT for a companion quest, do NOT say i didn’t warn you. also please don’t respond to this if you know more than me i am in distress but i still don’t want spoilers

so i just finished lucanis’ “a murder of crows” quest. and lucanis. first talon. for some reason. (this is the writing choice i’m ??? on. also i’m ??? on lucanis’ whole storyline, frankly. the writing was. well. like i said, we’re not unpicking that right now, i don’t want to get into it at this point, not the conversation i’m having.)

lifelong trauma of being in the crows and fighting to get someone in a talon’s position and keep them there -> the thing that gave sol all their diseases and made them, to be frank, fairly suicidal

viago: ultimately can handle it without them, especially with teia’s backing.

lucanis: CANNOT handle it without them. holy fuck. for like twelve hundred different reasons, unthinkable, completely laughable, that he can handle this. who is going to protect him. the only reason this could be better at keeping sol mentally stable than watching viago’s back is that they will never feel purposeless or need to go looking for an adrenaline rush, because forget crows, an ambitious blackbird could eat that man alive. he can’t scheme. he can’t even SCHEME and the very fact that he trusts sol DE RIVA demonstrates this. sol is a crow! from another house! does he have no memory at all of the fact that his own parents died in crow infighting? sol could have been playing him this whole time, it wouldn’t have even been hard, and if they were that kind of person, then right now the first talon’s house would have just fallen directly in their hands like a gift from the maker, and they can’t even say a part of themself they can’t shut off isn’t thinking about it that way! how is sol supposed to keep someone like that alive?

you see what it’s like trying to sleep while sol is having this discussion in my mind.

ahem. anyway. pathways for sol’s life assuming they indeed make it through the game:

becoming lucanis’ guard dog the way they were for viago, which (even if they could mentally handle that, which they can’t. or can they??) means switching house loyalties which would surely destroy them eventually -> bad

somehow trying to persuade lucanis to give this up, as if that wouldn’t be throwing house dellamorte completely to the dogs, which at least sol can’t imagine any crow is capable of, let alone someone so dedicated to clinging to what remains of his family that he couldn’t even kill a traitor -> bad

going ahead and leaving the crows, but sol now has to leave BOTH viago and lucanis behind and also lucanis is going to die in there because they left him to do this alone -> bad

solution: sol is back on their original “if a blighted dragon eats me by the end of this, i don’t have to experience consequences” train

and maybe they’re right and i should not worry about this because i’m painfully aware it’s VERY bold to start deciding what happens after the game at this point, when they might still get trapped in the fade or turned into paste or something. and admittedly they did know and dread the possibilities from the first moment they felt something for lucanis, which was why they so wanted it to be anyone else, because anyone else in that lighthouse could have given them a different world, and he is the one who regardless of his best or worst intentions can only tie them tighter to a burning building. and SURE, i see the solas/mythal breakup parallels of sol still leaving, i’m looking at them, that doesn’t mean i have to LIKE them

he hasn’t even kissed them. they’re doing all of this unkissed. lucanis dellamorte when i get you

again please absolutely do not respond to any of this with even the vaguest of hints if you know more about the rest of the game than me 🙏 it’s probably best if no-one responds to this at all lmao i am just thinking out loud. you can reply with a “that’s rough buddy”. for sol

[they-lived]

The Veilguard Post

I have a lot of thoughts about the new Dragon Age game.

Spoilers for all games and critical analysis below (and I do mean critical I have some nice things to say and some really not nice things to say) if you’re not here for that kind of content then keep scrolling….

Alright now that we’re alone, my beloved, I have some big thoughts about this game.

First, let me introduce myself as a Dragon Age player. Years ago I started trying to play Inquisition because I wanted to play my first real big kid game (I was like… 15 I think) but I was very lost so I went to my brother who gave me Origins and his copy of DA2 and told me to ask him if I had any questions.

I played over 500 hours of Origins - I played every origin, romanced every companion, played every angle and got every single stinking achievement the game had on offer INCLUDING all of the DLC achievements. I loved the hell out of that game and honestly still believe it is one of the best games I’ve ever played. It taught me how to mod! I love modding my games now and she’s the reason!

I didn’t love DA2 nearly as much but I still enjoyed parts of it. Honestly, if the game had ended after Act 2 I would have probably loved it just as much, I just feel like it doesn’t hold its drama very well at the end and truly if the Anders confrontation had more gravitas to it I would have enjoyed it a lot more. For context, I’ve only played her three times but I did help my sister play through all three games in their entirety. So to be clear I have played through romances for Fenris, Sebastian, and Isabela, and my sister romanced Anders (yes I did watch Merril’s romance so I do know what happens in that one as well).

Inquisition was my pandemic game, I played the hell out of her. I have easily clocked close to a thousand hours in that game between all five playthroughs because I was mentally unwell during the pandemic lol, but I digress. I played that game as much as I could, modded it to high heaven and unplayability frankly. I romanced Cullen, Dorian, Cassandra, Bull, and Solas (if I go back and do another playthrough which is likely at this point, frankly, I’m open to doing Josephine or Blackwall). Trespasser is an all-timer for me, one of the best DLC expansions I have ever seen, I was gagged, gooped, dead and deceased on the FLOOR.

All of this to say, my love for these games runs deep (I have a whole world in mind that I may one day bring myself to fully write but alas… Idk man shit’s hard). I wrote fan fic for this world and I cherish it deeply.

So… Veilguard… honestly, I was expecting it to be worse, I was expecting to hate it. I went in knowing it had been stuck in production hell for 10 years, had cycled through writers and layoffs, you name it, they suffered through it. But while what we got was not terrible… it was not great either.

I will say, I enjoyed some quests and some ideas in there. Here’s a short list:

The siege at Weisshaupt was a treasure, it even made me briefly enjoy gameplay! (I universally play on easy mode but this one felt smart)

Solas being inside of your head when you’re trying to get to Elgar’nan’s arch demon was dope as hell

All of Emmrich’s quest was exceptional, especially the ending was firing on all cylinders. Truly a great quest

When I got Lucanis romance it was pretty stellar (just lacking in content which we’ll get to)

Honestly, having my romanced inquisitor ending was satisfying for me. Really, I was getting the flutters in my heart watching it.

Ok so… now lets get into why you’re really here, the disappointments. In ten parts because I have too much to say apparently.

Let’s start with the art: I know some people love what they did with the art style and I will say I appreciate that they stuck with the style throughout and made the game feel cohesive… I still felt like it was too fortnite cartoon-y for what I prefer in a Dragon Age game.

Second: The companions… I feel like… I feel like this was ‘therap-ize your friends’ the game at times. The amount of times I only responded with ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘you’re allowed to feel that way’ or ‘this is hard’ was so often I genuinely wondered at times if it was the same sound bite being played every time.

I heard someone say that you can’t even be mean in this game and I-... they’re right… you can’t really be mean in this game. I can’t unsee it. And this is coming from someone who played a full evil campaign of Baulder’s Gate 3 and had to play a sixth time to cleanse my soul after being a meanie and feeling dirty about it… I believe being evil and cruel (or at least being a dick) is kind of essential in an RPG and I personally feel like you should be able to disagree with your companions and make them hate you.

I don’t recruit Sera anymore because she bothers me, I don’t love Merril or Fenris and I straight up hate Morrigan (more on this later) and Oghren, and the games before allowed me to be a bitch to them if I wanted to.

In this game I vaguely like my companions but they all feel like ideas and not people. I didn’t like Sera but she felt like a person, so did Merril and Morrigan - they’re people and I don’t like every person. My least favorite companion in this game is Neve and she’s not offensively bad, just a vague idea of a cynical detective who fights the man and doesn’t take anyone’s shit… but beyond that… nothing.

We spend a lot of the companion quests just kind of… walking around and talking to them… but I feel like I don’t actually learn about them. I think that half of my companions avoid this - Davrin, Harding, and Emmrich feel like fully realized characters with passions and history. Their walk and talk quests felt more immersive and like I was genuinely learning about a new friend and I enjoyed it but too few of my companions sucked me in this way.

Bellara constantly talks about how hard things are and how much she misses her brother (and also her romance serials which are my favorite interactions with her). Taash’s mother is the most interesting part about them and their arc is just not very compelling (or tied to basically anything else happening in the game beyond the Dragon King is working with the evanuris but I digress). And Lucanis… dear sweet Lucanis you had so much potential but they stuck you in a predictable story and gave Spite no actual substance. Also apparently Spite is a spirit of determination which I had to find out from Solas at the end of the game… like huh? What? Excuse me? Why wasn’t that explored more? That's a fascinating concept.

Who are these people? They’re just kind of… vaguely awkward, supposedly good at their jobs, and wasted potential.

I think that’s what it comes down to for me. There’s so much potential to have really interesting characters here. If you want me to do a deep dive on how I would re-write these characters let me know maybe I’ll do it lol. This post is already long enough.

Third: Romance full disclosure, I fall into the category of - I want my RPG to also be a dating sim - so this one I get is not everyone’s cup of tea… that having been said the romances in this game are really lacking. Not only are they flat or uninteresting there is practically no content!

I romanced Lucanis and I genuinely mean this - when I did get romantic scenes with him I loved them. They were sweet and tender but so few and far between it didn’t feel earned. I loved the scene after being pulled out of the Fade prison - I replayed it like six times. I felt like it was so sweet and so well executed and I craved more of that.

Watching the other romances it’s clear that this game lacks content for the romances, full stop. Everyone gets a grand total of about half an hour of content for their romance start to finish. And like… huh? Why? Dragon Age is known for its romances! Even the more surface level romances in other games have more going for them!

Sebastian’s romance is easily the weakest romance in any DA game and I think that his romance somehow still has more content that’s actually romantic than any of Veilgaurd’s… and listen I know I’m the rare Sebastian defender but his rival-mance (the superior option imo) requires you to challenge him and his faith. It’s interesting, it’s got substance and grit and is thought provoking… Veilgaurd doesn’t offer that.

I’ve watched all the romances at this point and it seems that - once again - Emmrich has the most content. Davrin and Harding are close behind, but all of them still lack true romance. Half the time the flirtatious option just reads as being nice and there’s so little pay off that arguing these romances are slow burn is dead on arrival in my opinion.

Not to mention that most of the romantic scenes are interrupted by something goofy or awkward. Lucanis, Neve, and Emmrich all have kisses that are interrupted for one reason or another and frankly I didn’t care for it. It felt like padding and I want my romances to be more present.

Fourth: And this one is big for me. Your choices basically don’t matter… like at all.

I need it to be known that my friends and I regularly call big choices in our DnD games ‘Dragon Age choices’ these games are hugely influential in how we run our DnD games. We love a morally gray, ambiguous, ‘things will never be perfect make the choice you can live with’ type of stakes. And this game frankly has none.

There are three big choices in this game - by my count - and none of them have weight or substance. The only companion that has one even remotely close to the other games is Emmrich’s - which I will admit took me all the way the fuck out and I genuinely couldn’t decide if we should resurrect Manfred or let Emmrich become immortal. I was floored by his quest in general.

Anyway, big ‘choices’ in this game are as follows:

Save Minrathous or Treviso

Punch the First Warden or talk him down

Let Harding or Davrin Live

So following my first playthrough I knew I wanted to romance Lucanis so I saved Treviso and I was initially taken aback by how fucked things were in Minrathous… except they’re not really that fucked to be honest. Yes the venatori took over… and yes the Shadow Dragons go into hiding… but you still have access to the dragons and the Viper - even infected with blight - lives throughout the rest of the damn game.

Like… huh? I thought this would be pivotal. In Origins once you leave Lothering you literally cannot return because the blight is beyond devastating. It’s horrific, blight sickness is so horrible that in DA2 you have to kill Aveline’s husband and one of your siblings either dies or becomes a warden, it’s so bad that nothing can be done about it. But the Viper just casually sticks around for the rest of the game and the Shadow Dragons can still help you in the end. Not to mention that either Bellara or Neve can be cured of the blight at the end of the game for some reason…

Can you imagine in Inquisition if you still got to hang out with the Templars after Samson absolutely decimates them? Like… that would simply not happen and I like that each game gets a different minor villain and ending based on your choices, it’s juicy, it’s diabolical, it’s interesting. It inspires further investigation and playthroughs.

I understand that not every choice can matter in a video game because then a game would just be impossible to play and that’s what DnD is for… but BG3 did just fine and they have dozens of choices that really matter (note I have clocked 700 hours in BG3 over 7 playthroughs including evil playthroughs). Within the franchise you have dozens of choices that really matter. Hell in Origins the Redcliff quest has about four different endings at least, depending on how and when you do it. We’re not asking for a lot, we’re asking for what is honestly, at this point, an industry standard for an RPG.

Punching the First Warden or not is such a minor decision all things considered that like… it genuinely baffles me that it’s even a choice at all because even when you knock his ass out cold he still staggers back to the fight and gets pulled into the abyss. Sure, you’ll see him later in Davrin’s quest and he can react differently to you based on this choice but there’s just… no weight to it. The Wardens still help you, you cannot lock yourself out of any of the factions, you can please everyone. Which I love doing in a DA game don’t get me wrong - but it’s much more satisfying when I have to work for a good ending where everyone’s happy.

I think of Redcliff in Origins or Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts in Inquisition, these quests have choices that matter and you have to work to make sure you get the ending you want. Saving Isolde and Connor in Redcliff takes work; getting the exact right combo of rulers in Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, takes work. It’s not easily handed to you, you have to pursue it by interacting with the world around you and understanding what’s actually going on.

The Harding vs. Davrin choice is so cheap and I really have no other way to describe it. First, we have no reason to believe that this choice will lead to the death of our companion, especially since we’ve spent all this time making sure we level them up and follow their quest lines to their end. But that doesn’t matter, it feels like it was done for shock value more than a story reason. It’s not even really brought up again except for brief mentions in the Lighthouse before the final march. They’re also the only ones who get locked into this type of ending which makes it feel even cheaper!

Neve and Bellara can be saved even after being infected with the blight and no I’m not over it! It’s just a real slap in the face that Davrin or Harding - two of the best characters in the game imo - are sent to their death for what feels like no reason except that… checks notes… their idea was better in your opinion? They don’t even die on their side mission, they die WITH YOU IN A CUT SCENE. It doesn’t matter what you do, one of them will die and I wouldn’t mind that except… no one else is ever put into this kind of peril.

It also feels like no other choice I made up until that point matters. It doesn’t matter that Davrin and I chose to release the Griffons to forge a new path, it doesn’t matter that Harding chose forgiveness instead of being consumed by the rage of her ancestors. It doesn’t matter that we helped the gray wardens or that I asked Harding about the inquisition or that I took them on any number of side quests, it doesn’t matter if you romance them.

You just pick which of them you don’t mind finishing the game without and that’s that. It’s grinding my gears the more I think about it so let's move on.

Fifth: The Morrigan of it all… Okay, full disclosure, I’m a Morrigan hater. I find her romance in Origins gross, I think it’s stupid she became an advisor to the Orlesian Empress in Inquisition (homegirl was raised in a swamp, what do you MEAN she’s an advisor to the Empress!?!?), and I hate that her solution to your problems is trust me intrinsically and also let me have sex with someone who expressly does not want to. BUT I truly did enjoy the Mythal lore and Morrigan becoming Mythal is interesting.

Just one itsy-bitsy problem is that I just spent three whole games spanning in-game decades trying to make sure this didn’t fucking happen. And yet, here we are, with this… happening. Ooooo Bioware when I catch you it’s on SIGHT. Not only does this make everything else you did with her feel like a colossal waste of time… it ultimately feels like nothing mattered. Who cares if I spent two in game decades handing Morrigan her own autonomy on a silver platter? Who cares that I did everything in my power to make sure she could do what she wanted instead of bending to the whims of her abusive mother?

Ignoring the fact that apparently Morrigan and Isabela (who are both easily in their 50s at this point, remember how Wynne was barely cresting 50 and the game treated her like she was a granny?) haven’t aged a day cause I guess women can’t age… did anything I do matter? We get a weird vague line from Isabela about family and Morrigan seems to think she and the inquisitor are besties… which they are reluctant allies at best in most playthroughs I’ve seen and played. And oh by the way, that kid she maybe had, that could be an elder god? Yeah he either doesn’t exist or she’s an absent parent whoopsie.

Sixth: The lore… I understand this game is trying to take the world in a new direction but this was not the way to do it. We could have gotten a better shot at a DA2 type of game. A smaller, more contained story but they went scorched earth with so much that it feels… like a huge let down.

Not to mention that as a recovering catholic I loved the lore of the Chantry. I loved dissecting the intricacies of a huge religious institution that has good people but a rotten core. Examining faith and how sinister it is when institutions get a hold of something that imbues so much meaning into people's daily lives was genuinely cathartic for me. And this game basically tells you that the chantry is wrong and to go fuck yourself because it doesn’t matter and it never did. It takes away so much nuance and realism within its own lore (not to mention they just hand wave it off when Harding rightfully brings this up as an earth shattering moment for her. What a weird thing to ignore). The answer is Elves, if you have a question the answer is elves, and I’m sorry I don’t love that answer. I’d rather have no answer, I’d rather be able to draw my own conclusions.

I love how nuanced and messy the lore of Thedas is, personally. I loved learning about how twisted the Qun is and how fucked Antiva is and that Ferelden is no better. I found it so fascinating no one place is good and just. They really did some revisionist history with Tevinter and especially the Crows (this game had one too many freedom fighter groups for my liking but I digress). All interest, morally gray intrigue, and nuance was sapped out of the world. All the bad guys are venatori or antaam, all the answers are Elves did it, and it feels so… devoid of intrigue. It was such a let down.

At no time did I ever feel conflicted about what I was doing, at no time did things ever make me question if I was doing the right thing. I never even really had to think very hard about what I was doing because most choices were pretty benign, like I could do no wrong, like I was being spoonfed my heroism. I didn’t have to think, for the most part, and that makes me sad.

Seventh: Varric… oh Varric… my sweet beloved child they did that to you didn’t they? I don’t inherently have a problem with Varric dying, honestly I don’t. The execution, however (pun intended), was garbage. I echo what others have said… why is Varric the one chasing after Solas? Varric was close to everyone in the inquisition, sure, but I’m not sure he and Solas were besties.

If Cole were the one going after Solas I’d get it. If it were Bull going after Solas to beat the shit out of him, I’d get it. If it was Dorian going after him because he’s the closest in proximity I’d get it… but Varric being the one to try talking him down ‘because he’s my friend!’ is frankly, bad writing. I feel like the team wanted to send him off but this was not it fam. Varric does love his friends this deeply… but for Solas it feels wrong and weird and (dare I say it?) out of character.

Honestly, if they had him actually be alive in the Lighthouse and being that mentor figure I would have much preferred it. I could have overlooked the narrative wonky-ness if Varric had lived… but him being dead pissed me off. I can't even lie about it. It felt like shock value for shock value’s sake and I hated it.

It feels like we should have been with the Inquisitor tracking Solas down or at least hired by them… but instead we get dead Varric and no substance… awesome.

Eighth: The God’s Prison… of all the weird retconn-y odd narrative choices that were made this one irks me the most… just… the very concept of Solas and the other gods not being able to get themselves out of the Fade prison but you can is so… just dumb honestly. I think, in theory, the idea that you have to work through your regrets to release yourself from that prison is actually really interesting… but here’s the problem with that:

Solas did work through his regrets and he has been able to let go at least somewhat. He knows what he did was wrong and he wants to change… He’s just the king of over correction lol. I just find it laughable that you can get out of this supposedly impenetrable prison but no elven god can because they’re too proud. Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain I can buy, but Solas I simply don’t buy it. It’s just… I don’t know, truly laughable is the only word I can use to describe it.

You’re telling me that Solas - who learned about the power of friendship and individual autonomy all throughout Inquisition - hasn’t learned to navigate his regret? Solas who can look romanced quizzie dead in the eye and tell her ‘I love you, you taught me so much about this world and I am still learning. I’m going to end this. I’m going to fix my mistakes. I’m going to make the world better.’ hasn’t had to grapple with what he’s done? Are y’all for real Bioware?

Ninth: Solas… Solas, Solas, Solas, my sweet summer child, you are the biggest case study of missed opportunity that I see in this game. I think he was severely underutilized, talking to him, his memories, and just having him around was genuinely the best part of this game for me. I love him fighting with Elgar’nan in my head, I love him being saucy with me in my dreams, and the romanced quizzy ending is cannon to me. But he just wasn’t present enough! He felt like a vague threat but I also… I also don’t really think this game did enough to make him a threat.

In Trespasser I genuinely feared this man, I thought ‘oh fuck we aren’t going to be able to stop him easily’ but then he is just… so easily taken out it’s laughable.

I think this game’s biggest flaw is that we get no build up to Solas as Rook. This game relies on the fact that you know Solas from Inquisition but then we don’t even really get that Solas (see bad ending where he calls himself a god oh Bioware I am in your YARD he would never say that). If we spent the whole game trying to find him, gathering allies, looking for clues only to meet him at the end and triumph by sealing him away… only to find out we released the evanuris into the world (obvious sequel bait is obvious but hey games do what they must) that would have been dope as hell!

I feel like the writers of this game felt like they had to deliver a sequel when honest to goodness I think it would have been much better if they didn’t. I think if this game had been divorced from the main series and truly had an independent story it could have been great. I keep saying if this game was a precursor to the ‘let’s take down Solas’ game it would have been epic. If this game introduced us to Rook and co, then at the end we meet the inquisitor and they’re like, “Hey losers do you wanna save the world!?” That would have been so cool.

But at the end of the day it IS a sequel and it’s a bad sequel. I truly like this game when it’s not trying to follow up Inquisition, but as a sequel it fails at every hurdle. Solas is a fascinating villain, he is a character I adore and really find interesting, compelling, tragic, and downright terrifying. And they didn’t use him to his fullest extent at all.

In theory - Rook is Solas’s foil. We get to accomplish what he couldn’t, saving the world and all that… but Rook and Solas are not actually parallels, their life experiences and their goals are nowhere near aligned enough to make this argument. If Solas were really watching us become him or if we saw ourselves becoming Solas that would have been interesting. Instead, Solas points out our similarities ‘you’re willing to do whatever it takes’ or ‘you’ve got fire and passion to do the right thing’ or ‘you do what’s right and say fuck the man when you need to’ but our reasons feel achingly hollow compared to his. We are not the same. So him thanking us at the end of the game feels out of place. He should be thanking the inquisitor for coming back to him - because really she is the one who saves him. Her love saves him, Rook just bought her time to get to him.

What sucks is that Solas is so endlessly interesting to me. This is a character that created this world and he regrets it. Can you imagine a god that regrets their creation? That idea has me physically unwell and they squandered it.

Tenth: The thesis of this game. Now let me start off by saying, not all games NEED a thesis. But some of them have them regardless and the Dragon Age games like having something to say. So bear with me while I opine about a very watered down thesis for each game. And it could be argued these games have multiple or different ones than I present but this is my hear me out post, get your own, lol.

Origins poses the question ‘how far will you go to save the world?’ We are constantly asked to do morally dubious things to save the world. Do we recruit slave labor from the Golems for a better army? Do we save the Circle mages or do we let the templars slaughter them? Do we recruit Loghain as a gray warden knowing the crimes he has committed? Do we let Morrigan conceive a god baby to save our own life? These questions are answered by our choices and it makes this game interesting. It makes each Hero of Ferelden different and it makes our choices matter, people we meet and grow to care for live or die by our decisions and it makes the player feel important.

DA2’s thesis is ‘we are the product of our circumstances’. DA2 is, at its heart, a tragedy, people are victims of their circumstances, including Hawke. No matter what we do, we lose our siblings and our mother to circumstances beyond our control, with or without our heroism. No matter what we do the qunari will rampage through the city. No matter what we do the chantry is destroyed and we must side with the templars or mages. Yet, in spite of the horror, Hawke can choose how they respond to their situation. We get to choose to be kind or brutal, we can choose to seek justice or be pulled through it kicking and screaming. We are dealt a shit hand at every turn, what we choose to do with it matters.

Inquisition’s thesis is ‘how do we forgive in the face of corruption?’ Every organization we meet in Inquisition is corrupt as fuck. They are terrible, they treat others without dignity or care, they spit in the face of decency but WE can change that. We as the player can step in and be the change we want to see in the world, literally. We can beat back corruption and evil with compassion and understanding… or you know, we can make them worse, because Inquisition gives you the option to be a dick if you want. We are tasked with saving the world and we can either be selfish about it like every other organization we encounter or we can be the altruistic light in the darkness - the dawn in an otherwise bleak future.

It feels like the thesis of Veilguard is ‘you can’t do anything alone’ when it should have been ‘what are you willing to sacrifice for the greater good’ or even better ‘it is easy to become the very thing you fought against’.

We spend the whole game watching how Solas made the hard choices in a losing fight, that he became something he never wanted to be because all he saw was the end result and not what was being lost along the way. Solas was a good leader, Solas had people fighting with him, and Solas was not afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good. Which would have been fascinating if we - Rook - had any hard choices to make at all and could relate to that.

We tread dangerously close to something great in this vein, the idea that we can be good leaders, get the job done, and do minimal harm - but it is done in such a way that it is made seriously unrealistic and uninteresting. We get through mostly unscathed with minimal losses that we care about beyond the vague answer of ‘normal people died/got hurt’ but we never really see that (don’t get me started on the mourning scene in the final battle, I was surrounded by sheets? I can only assume if your friends died you’d see their faces but mine didn’t soooooo). We are a better leader than Solas by virtue of our situations being significantly different. We are facing a known foe, with a clear cut way to beat them, allies who help us with minimal persuasion, and no insurmountable problems. He didn’t have any of that, he led a grassroots rebellion with basically only slaves and spirits to help him against people who were doing things he’d never seen before. The difference is just… they’re incomparable.

Can you imagine if we really had to face the idea that we are becoming the very thing we sought to destroy? Can you imagine the slow, creeping realization that we are just like Solas. If we had to sacrifice one or two or even more of our faction alliances to proceed through the game? If there were actual STAKES!?! If Solas saw us as his equal or another incarnation of himself? If he saw us going down the same path he did and it sparks empathy in him? If he wanted us to actually succeed because he has learned to see the good in this messy creation of his?

The DA games are - at their core - about sacrifice, what you are willing to give up for the greater good? In these games, the goal is to save the world, so how will you fight for it? We have nothing to fight for here because it’s not really a fight at all.

This idea that you can’t do anything alone is nice… but being alone is never an option for us. Solas puts himself in exile, Solas is alone but Rook never is. It’s not an option not to recruit your companions, you have to. It’s not an option to turn any of them away or to have them leave your party, and they’ll always love you if you do the bare minimum for their quests. The only time they ‘leave you’ is if they die but that’s not until the very absolute end, and even then they die in service of you - you are not ever alone in this fight.

If this game wanted to say something about how our people make us better we should have been met with a point in the game where we are alone. Fade prison doesn’t count because really nothing happens there; it's all cerebral internalized shit and you’re pulled out of it relatively quickly. We should have been hit with the idea that without our people - the bonds we choose and those we love - we are nothing and we were never faced with that potential reality.

In addition… Solas had people. He had Mythal and Felassan and he trusted them so intrinsically it became a part of his downfall. If he was your friend or lover in Inquisition he is a ride or die, he cares deeply for you and your team - so much so, he leaves because he sees himself as a danger to you. He’s only alone now because he chose to be alone… should we not also parallel this? Should we not also feel more bound to Solas because we see ourselves in him? We keep saying we’ll do ‘whatever it takes’ but it only takes the minimum to get the damn job done. We get to take the path of least resistance constantly, we get to be a hero with little to no losses that we see or care about - and perhaps this is because I did completionist this game and worked for it… but I didn’t ever feel like I had to work particularly hard.

This game ultimately fails because what it’s trying to say has no weight, what it’s trying to dictate to us is just said and never shown. We are not treated as an active participant in this narrative, we are just a consumer and I find it offensive that it was touted as an RPG when there’s minimal roleplay in the game.

In conclusion, your honor, this game is not a disappointment because I wanted Inquisition 2 - this game is a disappointment because it doesn’t say anything worthwhile. It presents ideas that, on their face, are good but never delves into them, it saps nuance out of an otherwise lively incredibly lore rich world, and it ultimately takes power away from the player to service a story that no longer wants to affiliate itself with its predecessors. Which is a damn shame because what came before it has so many interesting and thought provoking ideas this world could have built itself upon and chose to disregard.

If they wanted a relaunch, that’s fine… divorce yourself from ALL the games if that’s the case. Tell a smaller story, go back in the timeline before any other game, do anything else.

I will still probably play future Dragon Age games (because the track record is now the odd numbered games are good, the even numbered games are less good). I can find the good in these games despite my disappointment. But this game is still just that to me, a disappointment, end rant.

[astradrifting]

This is kind of inspired by this recent ask I sent to @esther-dot about Jon’s characterisation and Jonsa shippers’ apparent disregard for it, because it made me think of another part of Jon’s characterisation that is really integral to who he is. Mainly, that Jon really loves his brothers. Especially Robb. His rival and best friend and constant companion. Jon envies him, competes with him, buried a formative traumatic memory where he was deeply hurt by him... but ultimately loves him. Complex relationships with his brothers, both the Starks and his Night’s Watch brothers, are a running theme in Jon’s chapters.

Speaking of Jon’s brothers...

Aegon VI and Robb have a lot of potential parallels, actually. The “Young” moniker, red-haired counselors who are also their parents, trained to be the heir to a great kingdom from a young age, the barely younger half-brother Jon borne of their father’s dishonour of their mother… one that they might both have a good relationship with despite that?

The show tried to play with Jon ‘accepting’ his Targaryen lineage through the jonerice romance, very unconvincingly because it was simultaneously undermining it at every opportunity, in what was maybe a half-assed attempt at Pol!Jon (”They’ll all come to see you for what you are” isn’t anything but a threat in all contexts).

Jon will ultimately choose the Starks over everything else, that’s not really a question. But if Jon were to genuinely connect with another Targaryen, it’d likely be easier for him to find kinship with a half-brother than with an aunt - he has a basis for positive relationships with trueborn half-brothers, while the only aunt figure he’s ever known about is a) long dead and b) actually his mother. I think it’d both make more sense and be more compelling for GRRM to leverage Jon’s existing complex relationships with brotherhood by having him interact with and build a relationship with Aegon, than a rushed and out-of-character romance with Dany. 

Jon also is already primed to believe that Aegon is the real deal, that he was saved as a baby, because he’s already done the exact same thing himself - he swapped out a baby of royal blood who was in danger for a common-born boy, and then sent him halfway across the world for safety (side note: if Septa Lemore is Ashara, and if the baby was actually Ashara’s son as theorised here by @agentrouka-blog, that would just strengthen the parallel, because it would be his body double’s mother caring for him, as Gilly has to do for Mance’s son).

They’re definitely going to come into conflict first - politically, Jon will likely be in a position of power in the North by the time they meet, maybe as the KitN through Robb’s will or regent for Rickon, and probably will fight for Northern independence, while Aegon is fighting to be king of the Seven Kingdoms, not 6. Personally, it will be hard to get past the fact that Jon is the direct result of Rhaegar dishonouring Elia, plus that the Kingsguard who should have been protecting her were all stationed in Dorne, guarding Jon’s mother (in whatever capacity). But these interactions, a conflict and eventual friendship/brotherhood between them, would all be a lot more layered than jonerice can really offer. If a relationship between Jon and Dany was truly all that GRRM has been building up to, then there would have been no need for R+L=J - it adds nothing to that storyline, it doesn’t even make it a forbidden romance, because aunt-nephew is hardly the worst incest the Targaryens have engaged in.

It’s almost inevitable that Da*nerys is going to kill Aegon VI/Young Griff in the books, likely by burning him with dragonfire, in the Second Dance of the Dragons. The weird Dragonpit meeting in the show was very contrived, but it does make sense for Dany to meet the ruler on the Iron Throne at least once in a semi-peaceful context. In the show, she used her dragons only to intimidate Cersei, but she didn’t have a personal grievance with her. Aegon is in much more danger during such a meeting. After all she will think he is a pretender, and she doesn’t much care for the rules of safe conduct, as she showed to the envoys from Yunkai.

Dany shrugged, and said, "Dracarys."

The dragons answered. Rhaegal hissed and smoked, Viserion snapped, and Drogon spat swirling red-black flame. It touched the drape of Grazdan's tokar, and the silk caught in half a heartbeat. 

[...]

"You swore I should have safe conduct!" the Yunkish envoy wailed.

"Do all the Yunkai'i whine so over a singed tokar? I shall buy you a new one... if you deliver up your slaves within three days. Elsewise, Drogon shall give you a warmer kiss." She wrinkled her nose. "You've soiled yourself. Take your gold and go, and see that the Wise Masters hear my message."

(ASOS, Dany IV)

"Ah, there is the thorn in the bower, my queen," said Hizdahr zo Loraq. "Sad to say, Yunkai has no faith in your promises. They keep plucking the same string on the harp, about some envoy that your dragons set on fire."

"Only his tokar was burned," said Dany scornfully.

(ADWD, Dany VI)

So Dany will burn the Blackfyre pretender, and everyone will be happy and cheer to see the rightful queen, the last Targaryen, Slayer of Lies, Breaker of Chains, Insert-The-Million-Other-Titles-Here. Right?

Except how would she prove that he’s an imposter? She can’t exactly roll up with an Alt Shift X video pointing out that Illyrio has said some weird things about Aegon. Is Varys going to have an attack of remorse and explain his whole plot, complete with Blackfyre family tree? Or maybe she’ll explain that she went on a vision quest in Qarth and Aegon totally matches up with the vague symbolism that a bunch of drugged up warlocks told her before she set them on fire?

I don’t think it’s going to matter if Aegon is fake or not, and we might never find out either way. The mystery of his identity isn’t his main narrative, and all of his significance to the story and to multiple other characters is removed if he’s proved to not be Aegon VI. Him being proved fake would just make this plotline a weird, unnecessary digression on Dany’s journey to being the righteous and true queen, his death just another #girlboss moment for her. That’s definitely going to be her perception of it, but once she reaches Westeros we won’t have to rely on only her POV of her actions. History is written by the winners, and no one’s going to miss that it’s a lot more convenient for Dany if the boy with a stronger claim than her turns out to have been fake all along. Arianne and the Dornish are definitely not going to take it lying down, and neither is Jon. He’s not going to fall in love with the woman who murdered his brother, especially by burning him alive. ADWD has plenty to say about how much he hates death by fire.

“Men say that freezing to death is almost peaceful. Fire, though … do you see the candle, Gilly?”

She looked at the flame. “Yes.”

“Touch it. Put your hand over the flame.”

Her big brown eyes grew bigger still. She did not move.

“Do it.” Kill the boy. “Now.”

Trembling, the girl reached out her hand, held it well above the flickering candle flame.

“Down. Let it kiss you.”

Gilly lowered her hand. An inch. Another. When the flame licked her flesh, she snatched her hand back and began to sob.

“Fire is a cruel way to die. Dalla died to give this child life, but you have nourished him, cherished him. You saved your own boy from the ice. Now save hers from the fire.”

(ADWD, Jon II)

Funnily enough, the same fire as a kiss imagery from Dany burning the envoy’s tokar appeared there too, also used as a threat. 

If he is not a kinslayer, he is the next best thing. [...] What sort of man can stand by idly and watch his own brother being burned alive?

(ADWD, Jon IX)

So Aegon’s death is not going to be a triumphant victory for Dany, after which everyone proclaims her the true queen. It’s likely to just solidify opposition to her, from every corner of Westeros. If it happens during a summit or negotiation, it’d be even more of a tragic parallel to Robb and the Red Wedding; the young king murdered off of the battlefield, at an event where he was promised safe conduct. Featuring Dany in the role of Roose Bolton and Tywin Lannister. Tywin’s already died a very undignified death, and Roose Bolton looks to be on his way too.

I think the tragedy of Aegon’s death would also hit harder if we see it through Jon, as a main POV, or at least the aftermath of it. Jon was integral at the Dragonpit meeting after all, and probably would be at a peace summit or negotiation between the leaders of Westeros and the invading force.

In ASOS, there’s a curious lack of Jon’s reaction to Robb’s death. We see his initial reaction to Bran and Rickon’s supposed deaths when he gets back to Castle Black, but he doesn’t even know about Robb’s death until Stannis arrives to defeat the wildlings, and we’re not shown the moment he’s told about it. He barely even thinks about it, not even a mention until he meets with Stannis on top of the Wall:

“Your brother was the rightful Lord of Winterfell. If he had stayed home and done his duty, instead of crowning himself and riding off to conquer the riverlands, he might be alive today. Be that as it may. You are not Robb, no more than I am Robert.”

The harsh words had blown away whatever sympathy Jon might have had for Stannis. “I loved my brother,” he said.

(ASOS, Jon XI)

And that’s literally all we get that is specifically about Robb’s death - the rest of Jon’s chapters, his guilt and grief is about the loss of all his siblings, and the idea of stealing Winterfell from them. It doesn’t really make sense for him to not think about it at all, considering how close they were. This reminds me of how he has a non-reaction to Sansa’s marriage to Tyrion as well, as talked about in this post by @agentrouka-blog. Part of this could be Jon’s tendency towards denial and suppression of all his feelings, but it also points to GRRM explicitly obscuring his reaction - perhaps because he’s going to explore it in the wake of another brother dying a very similar death? One that this time he’ll be there to witness?

[shera-dnd]

I do believe we’ve gone too long without a good antagonist, so it’s time I introduced two in one go.

Also there is a joke there that I wrote before I even started writing the fic itself and I’m sure y’all will immediately recognize which one that is

“Amitola.”

Ilia blinked awake. It was a cold morning in their little camp, and her body was still sore from last night’s sparring session. She wished for nothing more than to stay inside her bedroll just a little longer, but a feeling of unease kept her from resting once more.

She recognized the voice, she certainly recognized the name, but there was no possible way she had actually heard that. That must have been a dream or perhaps she had simply misheard something in her half asleep state.

That didn’t matter, the sun had risen, and there was no doubt her dutiful knights were already awake and waiting for her to join them. So she quickly placed her usual glamour upon herself, donned one of her fine dresses, and stepped out of her tent.

“Good morning, my fair lady,” Weiss greeted cheerfully.

She sat by the campfire, preparing their breakfast as Belladonna watched her in amusement. She clearly didn’t expect the Schnee to know how to cook.

“Morning, Schnee,” Ilia replied, “what has gotten you in such a pleasant mood?”

“It was you, of course,” she explained, “last night has brought me such great joy.”

Ilia should not have expected the Schnee to know how to mind her wording, if the black knight’s grin was anything to go by.

“Is it safe to ask what has happened in this camp while I was gone?” Belladonna asked.

“I cannot say,” Ilia replied, unamused, “is it safe to ask why you’ve been gone all night?”

Weiss looked between the two of them in confusion, “is it safe to ask what you two are on about?”

“Oh, no, it certainly is not,” Belladonna chuckled.

“Then I believe a change of subject is in order,” Weiss declared, trying her best to evade whatever it was her companions were talking about, “Lady Rose and Lady Polendina have invited me over for target practice today. If my lady would allow it, I’d like us to make our way to their camp as soon as we’re done with this meal.”

“I…” Ilia wasn’t sure how to answer her. Her dream had left her unnerved, and spending time with the lovebirds would do nothing to ease her worries.

“I find myself indisposed today,” she settled on.

Weiss was visibly disappointed, but was quick to hide it behind the mask of a dutiful knight, “then I shall let them know we won’t make it today.”

“No, wait!” Ilia interrupted, not because she cared about the Schnee’s feelings, but because she did not want to spend all day in the company of a moping human, “just go if you want to. Don’t let me keep you.”

Weiss’s eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by this response, “are you certain, Lady Ilia?”

She scoffed in annoyance, “I wouldn’t have said so if I weren’t.”

At that the knight-to-be smiled at her in a way that certainly did not set her heart a flutter, and most definitely did not ease her worries like she were some fretting damsel. In fact, the only thing that got any reaction out of Ilia was when the Schnee decided to go on a tedious ramble, going on about how she would not forget such an act of kindness.

“Yes, yes, I’m a goddess amongst mortals,” she interrupted, “now shouldn’t you be making us breakfast?”

“Of course!” She agreed, promptly returning to the task at hand.

The resulting meal was surprisingly not deadly. In fact, as loath to admit it as Ilia was, it was in fact quite good.

“That was quite the astounding meal, Lady Weiss,” Belladonna praised, “I did not expect an atlesian noble to know how to cook.”

“Do not inflate her ego any further,” Ilia chided, “just be grateful the Schnee did not poison us.”

At least an attempt would have made her unease feel more warranted.

“You both flatter me,” Weiss replied. Though her smile was proud, it was closer to that of a farmer being recognized for their hard work, than that of a lord listing off their titles. It was charming in a way.

Not that Ilia would ever say that out loud.

“Great, you’ve made the Schnee happy, what a way to spoil my meal,” Ilia complained, though neither of them bought it, “shouldn’t you be on your way? Wouldn’t want to keep the lovebirds waiting.”

“You’re right, of course,” Weiss surrendered, getting up as she spoke, “I only request that you do not miss me in my absence.”

“Never has a request been so easy to fulfill,” Ilia replied, rolling her eyes, “now be gone.”

With that Weiss left them. Though Ilia assumed she’d get a moment of peace, it was clear Belladonna had other plans, for she kept looking at Ilia with the most insufferable of expressions plastered across her face. She knew what that look meant, she knew the conversation that would follow, and she most certainly did not want to partake in it.

“Not a word, Belladonna,” she threatened. It was a futile endeavor, all that did was work a smirk into that unbearable face of hers.

“You and ‘the Schnee’ seem very close,” she commented, to her own amusement and to Ilia’s great pain.

“I do not appreciate the implication in your tone, seelie,” Ilia complained.

“You have yet to tell me what has gotten Lady Weiss in such a cheerful mood,” Belladonna insisted.

“We sparred,” she replied, “nothing more to it than that.”

“Funny, that’s just what me and Yang did last night as well,” Belladonna commented.

“I still cannot comprehend what you see in that human,” Ilia shook her head.

“She eats for ten men and could take down just as many with her bare hands, and yet she could name every constellation in the sky and every flower in these fields,” she explained, her voice was sweet, but tasted like bitter jealousy to Ilia’s ear, “she fights like a mad woman, but speaks like a poet, and I have yet to decide what attracts me most.”

It was harder than it should have been, to accept Belladonna’s happiness, to be happy for her as well. Even now, so many years later, a part of Ilia still wished that her friend would speak of her in that way, that they could be more than just friends.

But she had accepted that this was not meant to be, and if the chieftain made Belladonna happy, then she should be happy for her as well.

“I take that to mean that you wish for her to speak poetry between your thighs,” Ilia joked. It was somewhat forced, but she tried.

“I cannot say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” Belladonna replied, “though for now I’m content with our walks and our sparring sessions.”

“Do you plan on telling her what you are?” Ilia asked. Jealousy aside, that had been her primary concern when it came to that human.

“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” she assured her, though that only served to confuse poor Ilia, “I believe she has figured us out already.”

“She has what!?” Ilia demanded.

“She has been slowly wearing less and less iron around me,” Belladonna explained, “yesterday I caught her taking off her bracelets before coming to greet me.”

“How could she even know!?”

“I’m not certain,” she replied, “regardless, it was very sweet of her.”

“How so? Iron doesn’t seem to have any effect on you,” Ilia asked, though there was a near accusatory tone to her words, “she might as well be removing that cloak of hers for all it matters.”

“It isn’t for any practical reasons really. it’s simply that she cares enough about my comfort to do so,” she replied, “hasn’t your human done the same for you?”

Her human?

Though the thought itself wasn’t entirely unpleasant - it had been far too long since poor Ilia had anyone to call hers - the fact that it was aimed at the Schnee of all people soured it for her. Certainly Belladonna knew she had better taste in women.

“Please, never refer to her in that way ever again,” she complained, pinching the bridge of her nose, “and besides she has put away the armor for her own comfort, not for mine.”

“Clearly,” Belladonna replied, amused, “of course our favorite knight wanabee has abandoned her signifiers of knighthood of her own volition, and only for her own benefit.”

“You’re a fool if you believe the Schnee cares for anyone other than herself,” Ilia bit back.

“And you’re a fool not to see how devoted she is to you,” Belladonna countered.

“I did not ask for devotion!” She shouted, “I did not ask to be her damned quest!”

With that shout came silence.

Neither of the fae had much to say from that point on. Though she did not enjoy having what had almost been a pleasant conversation sour so quickly, she also did not regret her outburst in any way. The simple idea of Ilia ever being with the Schnee in any way was both impossible and insulting, and the both of them just had to accept that.

“Amitola,” whispered the winds of the forest, like they had in the depths of her dream.

Ilia looked around frantically. There was no one around besides her and Belladonna. None who could know that name, or even what it meant. She turned back to her fellow fae, but she hadn’t reacted at all, still just sulking as she stared into the dwindling embers of their campfire.

“I should be going,” Belladonna said, seemingly unaware of anything wrong, “I’ve been neglectful of my duties to my order. I should rectify that.”

“Yes, of course,” Ilia replied, masking concern with bitterness, “return to your beloved humans.”

“Ami… Ilia,” she called, “you know I still care for you and for our kind.”

“Of course you do,” she almost hissed, shrouding her own unease with familiar venom, “now be gone already.”

Belladonna sighed, “as you wish.”

In little time she had suited up and set off to serve humanity once again, leaving Ilia alone to deal with the voices in the wind. She wasn’t a fool, she knew this was the doing of her people’s magic, and she recognized their summons when she heard them. What had worried her was that very few people knew that name, and fewer still had the means to travel this far north.

“Amitola,” the name echoed again, not spoken with a voice, but made to be from the wind itself.

This time Ilia answered its summons.

She ventured into the woods by herself, stripping her body of her glamour as she travelled further and further, far away from nobles and knights, from their pointless titles and empty oaths. Until once more she stood within the domain of the fae.

The forest was quieter here, a little pocket of peace set aside for her and her host.

“Amitola,” twin voices called in unison. That name, her name, was loaded with disappointment and contempt.

“Fennec,” Amitola greeted, lowering her head, “Corsac.”

From the shadows among the trees emerged the large gestalt form of the fae twins. A singular body of orange and white fur, caught somewhere between the shape of a man and a fox. It looked down on her with its four eyes, gleaming in the light that came through the branches.

“It has been too long, sister Amitola” Fennec spoke, and his voice felt like wind.

“We didn’t think we’d find you among the humans,” Corsac followed, and his breath smelled like embers.

“It makes one wonder why you left so suddenly,” the twins commented.

It was an unsettling sight to behold.

“I do not seek to join them, if that is what you’re insinuating,” Amitola returned. She was no traitor like Belladonna, and she would not be treated like one, “I seek to infiltrate them.”

“Of course,” Corsac agreed, “but what is it you have to gain from this?”

“I--”

“Don’t tell us you forgot to plan ahead, little sister,” Fennec added.

“I did plan ahead!” Amitola insisted, “I wished to…I wished to see the human world. I wanted to know the things they’ve built from our suffering. The festival felt like the best opportunity I’d get.”

“So then, did you come here only to bolster your hatred of their kind?” One asked.

“Or did you only wish to don a dress and play pretend?” The other followed.

As they spoke they circled her like a predator, their words following much the same. They had not yet betrayed violence in their intent, but it still unnerved her to be treated like prey.

Though words failed to come to her defence, her rage at being interrogated like this still burned bright, and it took the form of the same glare that had many times targeted her companions over the past few days.

The twins laughed.

“Do not worry, little Amitola,” Fennec reassured her, condescension weighing heavy on her name, “your goals may be shallow.”

“But your skill can still be put to use,” Corsac noted, “after all, you have acquired not only the perfect disguise.”

“But also their trust,” they spoke together once more, wind and fire amplified by one another, “and you will put it to good use.”

The shared body of the twins stood before her, larger, more fearsome than any singular being could ever dream to be. Under their gaze it was easy for rage to die down, and for fear and guilt to take over.

“You will do this for us, won’t you, Amitola?”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Yamata-No-Orochi (Part 1) Uncle Caesar

We’re finally getting to the tail end of the Story Quests. Thanks for reading this far if you have. :D I’m so happy writing this, I’m just plugging story beats out like a happy like choochoo train, but this took a bit of thought.

This scene does not appear in the novel, manhua, or the game, however, it logically sets up a conflict that should have been there had the MC had real relationships with the characters and actual agency in the story. 

Enjoy!

It was about 9 am in the morning when Caesar got you out of bed and dressed you up as usual. He didn’t choose anything too casual or too sexual. He chose a yellow pleated skirt, a simple cotton white blouse and warm navy jean jacket, and knee high waterproof boots and invited you out with him for the day.

“Where are we going?” You had asked him.

“Just out shopping. Whatever you like. You’ve had a hard time. So it will be good for your mental state to get out and not be shut in feeling sorry for yourself.” He replied. But his eyes are not sunny, but clouded, like the sky over Tokyo.

So you spent the day shopping after breakfast, mostly for clothes and shoes. But Caesar took you to a toy store and insisted you buy something to play with. “You never played as a kid right?” He had asked you.

“No… not really. I liked to watch movies.” 

“Pick out a game. Anything you want.”

He didn’t accompany you shopping for the toys. He stood outside, smoking the cigar with his umbrella, not minding the rain. You were concerned about Kaguya but the disturbed weather was disrupting a lot of the internet access around Tokyo and the umbrellas provided physical disguise against searching surveillance cameras. Caesar didn’t mind being out, and while you shopped, he was keeping watch.

You spent a long time pacing the shelves, back and forth until finally you settled on a Sailor moon action figure. You pick it up and smile at the signature phrasing. “In the name of the Moon, I will punish you!” You could still hear the words clear in your head.

You come out with your single doll in the small bag and you put your two fingers in a V-shape over your eye playfully, just like the heroine in the Anime.

Caesar grinned broadly, but the sadness did not leave his eyes. 

You’d spent so much time in the stores that the sun  was already going down. “I’ve made reservations for dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Won’t Nono get jealous?” You snort.

“Not at all. She knows she has all my heart in her hands. But it's important to talk to you. You gave a starheart to Ruri Kazama last night. That means he reached you, right?”

“Yes, but … he’s the lead member of a yakuza group and he’s kinda out of my league.”

He waved the cigar in his hand airily. “It’s good for a young woman to raise her station through marriage in any case. But in your case, I don’t think any man is out of your league. If you think he is above you, then that’s a good thing. There are not many men like that. Much less, a man like that who you’d find attractive enough to grant a star-heart.” 

You laugh. “You sound like an old Uncle playing matchmaker.”

“I know and I hate it, but I’ve given it a lot of thought.” He grimaced. “I thought you would be good for Lu Mingfei, but he’s a stable European Hybrid who grew up in a stable household. You’re a wild thing of the White King. You’d never be a good match.” Caesar mused. “Ruri, on the other hand, knew more about you than you did about yourself. You seem to understand each other well. You clicked at the Takamagahara Club. I was pretty pissed about that but now… not so much.”

You’d walked until you reached the historical luxury district. There were restaurants here that were passed down generation to generation for hundreds of years. They survived both World War I and World War II. The bricks and mortar were older than Anjou.

He reached over your head to open a small glass door. Inside, you saw only an old Japanese man behind a counter, who looked at you through his craggy face. You figured that this place was by reservation only simply because it was so small. “Let me guess? You bought out every table in this place?”

“That’s right. Lu Mingfei helped me with the Japanese.”

“Is he doing alright?” You ask.

“Yep. He’s got that girl wrapped around his little finger.”

“That’s kinda messed up.” You say, recalling your last conversation with Chance about Izanami using Izanagi’s feelings to further her own ends.

“Well, hopefully it will turn out to be genuine.”

You shake your head smiling. “You really are an Old Uncle.”

Caesar pulls out the chair for you and you sit. “Don’t worry about ordering anything. Everything here is good.”

A waitress came and poured sake into saucers from a black bottle and you remember that you promised Caesar to have a date over Sake and this was it. You can’t believe you forgot about that but given everything that was happening it was understandable. It was more incredible that Caesar actually remembered.

Once the sake was poured, Caesar raised his saucer and you joined him in a toast. “A toast to the best damn freshman I’ve ever met.”

“And a toast to the fearless friend of justice!”

The sake was good, not quite sweet but full of the aroma and taste of rice in the alcohol.

“I want to discuss your future at Cassell after this. It’s unfortunate to say, but once this mission is over, even if I’m alive at the end, I won’t be able to shield you from the school board or anyone else.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Oh? The Gattuso heir admitting that he can’t protect a lady? Did I wake up in an alternate universe?”

But Caesar didn’t laugh or crack a smile. “It’s the official policy of Cassell College not to admit anyone with unstable blood, like yours. My family pursued Chu Zihang because they suspected him of being of poor bloodline. Had they succeeded, they would have sent him away on an island, far from human civilization. I was able to vouch for him at his trial and foil their plans, but I won't’ be able to help you if you run afoul of them because after this mission, I’m graduating, MC. I will go back to Italy and marry Nono.”

Your expression falls and you feel a trapdoor has just opened underneath you. You were still heartsick over losing Chance. But Caesar was your support staff you could lean on. Without him, you would have given into despair long ago. How could you stand on your own now? You would find a way surely but you hadn’t expected to part from him so soon.

He stares at you now and you understand the cloudy look in his eyes. “I want to make an arrangement with you. For your safety. But it will take you far away from me. So I don’t like it. But I feel it's the best for you. If you agree, then… alright.”

“Alright,” You echo. “Let's hear it.”

“We talked a little last night about how Ruri Kazama wants the Devil Clan to join Cassell and replace Hydra as the Japan Branch. But Ruri Kazama does not want to stay at Cassell and run the Devil Clan. His dream is to become a Kabuki actor and singer. He also mentioned that he recently lost his lover, and cannot help but feel extremely lonely. When he feels very lonely he looks for the loneliest girl and keeps her company. I think you can tell what I’m getting at.”

“Yes, we’re like mirror images of each other now.” You murmur. “So I will join the Devil Clan until Ruri can get them settled with Cassell College and then leave the Clan and Cassell to be a companion to Ruri Kazama?”

“You’ll be safer, and happier, with your own kind.” Caesar said, gloomily

You let out a breath. “But you’ll miss me.”

“I already do.” He reached for a cigarette and pulled it out. Old places like this didn’t mind smoking.

“Thank you for thinking of me. Of course, it really depends too on how well we get along.”

“You don't just give out star-hearts. Pursue him. I think it’ll be nice.”

The plate of artfully crafted fresh sushi was carried to you. Even though you have seen so many wonderful things in Japan, you continue to marvel at the creative ways they put rice together with fish and vegetables to make a bright and colorful display. Even the heads of the prawns served as a splashy centerpiece, their antennae waving slightly like bright orange fountains.

You eat in silence for a few minutes. Neither of you are adept with chopsticks so you just use your fingers. 

Finally Caesar broke the silence. “Can you tell me something? You mentioned Ruri Kazama would have to fight another lion. Who is this other lion? I saw that there is a mystery contender that also received a star heart.”

“He doesn’t have a name. I just call him Z, and he’s followed me my whole life. He won’t give up easily.” You lower your eyes and your chewing slows.

“Also a hybrid?” He glances at you, his blue eyes suddenly clear and sharp.

“Yes. The strongest hybrid out of all of Black Swan Bay.”

“Your old boyfriend.” Caesar looked out of the glass door at the front of the store.

“We were never really boyfriend and girlfriend. He trained me to fight. He’s specifically told me not to fall in love with Ruri Kazama.”

“Any particular reason why?” Caesar balanced the cigarette on his fingers.

“He says he knows how that story will end.” You look at him seriously. “He’s possessive and very jealous. It might not go well for Ruri if we end up together.”

“If you’re not boyfriend or girlfriend, what does he care who you end up with?” He put the cigarette between his lips and inhaled.

“I don't know.”

“What will happen if you defy him?”

“I’ll probably die. He’s the one who has guarded my life. My guardian angel. He says that he has known how to keep me alive from the very beginning. If I don’t do what he says, then he probably won’t keep guaranteeing my life.”

Caesar’s eyes narrowed and you saw the killer aura rise in his eyes. “Where can I find this Z person?”

You shrug. “He’s a mysterious thing. All these years and I still can’t figure him out. He just… has a lot of control over things that happen. Like everyone is a puppet on a string and he’s the ultimate puppetmaster. Even Chu Zihang couldn’t help but notice how fortunate it was that we ended up in the backyard of Genji Heavy Industries to hide. Or how the fortunate earthquake I caused managed to assist you in battle. He was the one who took me down to the Genji Elevator and showed me the deadpool even though Chisei Gen didn’t know about it. He was the one who told me to cause the earthquake that saved Lu Mingfei in the elevator.”

Caesar leaned forward. “So is he our ally?”

You lower your voice. “I think your purposes align. He views you as no competition to him. He only gets annoyed at my love interests. Since you are not pursuing me, he couldn’t care less what you do. But I’m telling you this, because if you do send me away with Ruri, it could have consequences both for Ruri Kazama and you.”

“A love triangle?” His eyebrows raise.

“Yes.” You chuckle. “I guess you could call it that.”

Caesar lets out a breath and a puff of white smoke. “Just when I thought I had it all figured out.”

“You almost did.” You giggle freely.

“I do have one ace in the hole. If I can guarantee your life, then that will free you right?”

“But I’m dying as an unstable hybrid… I…”

“Yes but so is that Uesugi girl. The documents in that folder said that the Black Swan Bay children only lived to age 20 and at that age they inevitably turned into deadpool. Erii was created as a dying ghost, the same as you, by the same people that created you. You’re both alive, but you are 18 and Erii is 21.”

You gasp, suddenly breathless. Z’s words to you, that the key to your survival is in Tokyo, come roaring back.

“If I can figure out the secret to how they’re keeping her alive, then you won’t need the Z person.” Caesar smiles, but it’s challenging, snarling.

“You’re kidding! You’re not seriously considering competing with Z!” You always felt that Z, deep down, was a killer, who taught you to be a killer. What Caesar was doing was a dangerous thing, putting himself in the line of fire of someone who wouldn’t hesitate to arrange his death the same way he had arranged everything else.

But Caesar was always like this, running headlong into danger and saying, ‘I’ll figure it out when I get there’. And appealing to fear would never dissuade him.

“I’m not competing for your heart, only your freedom. I don’t like men who threaten the lives of women. There’s actually more I can say, but given your position, I’ll keep it to myself.” He was still smiling that deadly smile, staring out the door as though seeing an unseen person.

“Oh… my god…” You sigh. “Well, if anyone could do it, it would be you.”

Your appetite significantly diminished. You felt cold and anxious. You wondered what Z would say if he ever appeared to you again. You wondered if Z would ignore Caesar, or if Caesar would simply disappear without a trace, as though he never existed.

You left the restaurant and Caesar pulled you close, one hand over your narrow shoulders. “You’re afraid of him. Aren’t you?”

You don’t answer, not even with a nod.

“That makes me more curious. Stay close to me then. That way, if he wants to keep you, he’ll have no choice but to show himself.”

[elzetastuff]

New Feelings Blossoming

*in the middle of a battle against fatui in a domain*

*Team composed by Aether, Diluc, Fischl and Bennett*

Bennett: "I'm going in! *Activating his ultimate on the ground*

Diluc approaches to the buff circle and charges his ultimate

D: “Burn!!!”

A giant pyro eagle comes from Dilucs sword, hitting the fatui soldiers and damaging most of  them, while the rest of the soldiers survive with just a little bit of life left.

Aether: *using his anemo ability* “Wind Blade!”

From the palm of his hand, the traveler summoned a vortex that damaged the rest of the enemies and threw them in the air, finally knocking them up and clearing the room.

Aether: “Huh, it wasn't a bad combo after all”

Bennett: “Yes! We did it!”

Diluc: “Don't chant victory yet, kid. they're still coming”

Portals appear in front of the party as moew fatui soldiers arrived, ready to stop and defeat the adventurers

Bennett: “What? A second round so soon?”

Fischl: “Foolish ignorants who dare to combat with the prinzessin der verurteilung only shall find despair and failure in their future!”

Aether: *sighs and grabs his sword* “Lets keep going!”

The team keeps fighting together as the fatui used their weapons against them

F: “Oz! Reveal thyself!” 

O: “As you wish, Mein Fräulein”

Oz appears and starts to attack the soldiers with electro damage. with Diluc’s sword and Bennett’s buff power, the Cryo and Hydro soldiers got defeated fast

Suddenly, a new portal emerged from behind the team. and a Electro Fatui soldier appeared with his hammer in hand, ready to smash the adventurers

A: “Watch out!”

The Fatui soldier lifted his hammer and attacked in the direction of Fischl. The girl was frozen in place as the Soldier jumped at her direction. but before the hammer could hit her, someone yelled her name

Bennett: “Fischl!”

The boy ran to her direction and pushed her out of the way. The hammer hit against the solid floor as the fatui soldier growled in anger

“Stupid kids, stop getting in our way!”

D: “You and your organization should be the onea to get out of our way”  Diluc says with an angered tone as he prepared himself to launch his ultimate ability again

Aether: “Let's do it at the same time!”

“As if you-!!!”

D/A: “Time for… Retribution!/ Disappear!” 

A giant tornado appears and swallows the electro soldier and the rest of the fatui remaining, damaging and knocking them up along with the pyro damage

Once the room was cleared up again. Diluc sighs and crossed his arms

D: “Guess those were the last ones, for now at least”

A: “Hey guys, are you guys oka- uhhh”

Bennet groans and shakes his head “Ow, I think I hit my head… wait, where’s Fischl-!”

Bennett’s eyes widen as he notices Fischl, the girl that he just pushed away, laying below him with a beet red face. 

F: “C-Care to move already?”

It took Bennett a few seconds before realizing the compromising position they were in now “Gah! I’m sorry!” quickly standing and giving the girl some personal space “I swear it was not my intention to-”

F: “T-Theres no necessity to apologize, companion. I understand the reasons of your actions and Im grateful in these timea of war and disgrace”

Despite saying those words. Fischl’s face was still red and looking away from Bennett and the rest of the team

B: “Uhm, I think I did not understand much about you said..” in that moment, Oz chuckled as he flied to the boys direction

O: “Do not worry, sir Bennett. Mein Fraulein is only thanking you for saving her, that’s all”

B: “Oh, well, it was nothing, as long as everyone is safe and well”

Diluc sighs and shakes his head “I'm sorry if I ruin this moment, but we should keep going before more fatui arrive and makes things worse”

Aether: “Sir Diluc is right. Let's keep moving and finish the mission as soon as possible”

The two walked in direction to the exit as Bennett sighed and looked at the girl sitting on the floor

B: “Need some help?”

Fischl looked up as the boy offered her a hand, and she scoffed

F: “Thanks, plebeian companion, but I, Fischl, can stand up on her two feet without the aid of- ouch!”

She hissed in pain before she could get up. 

B: “Eh, are you okay?”

Oz approached the girl “Mein fraulein, what's wrong, can you get up?”

F: “My foot… it hurts..”

B: “Oh, you must have gotten a twist on your ankle. Don't worry, it's not something too big, but still, we should go back to Mondstadt so they can see your knee”

O: “It looks like sir bennett knows a lot about this kind of injuries”

B: “Oh well, I get hurt everyday, I'm just used to it, you know”, He shrugs as he offers his hand again, “You may still need help to get back to the city. Don't worry, I can help you with that” 

Fischl mutters something before sighing and grabbing his hand “Fine. I guess I can let you, oh cursed companion, to help this princess in her moments of aid. I will allow you to get close but not too much, so the darkness of my spirit doesnt eat your soul and fill the void of my heart”

Oz:  “Mein Fraulein says she's thankful again for your help, but asks you to not touch her too much”

B: “Eh? Well I wasn't thinking about doing anything weird...”, Fischl grunts in pain as he helps her stand up, then he puts her arm over his shoulder “See? you can use me as support until we go back to Mondstadt”  

Fisch sighs and blushes at Bennett’s kind smile “I suppose...”

Oz: “Don't worry, Mein Fraulein. Once were back and you're healed with the healing magic of the nuns, we will go back to our adventure”

F: “I do not wish to be healed by the magic of those pagans who make rituals for- eep!”

B: “Hey, don't try to walk so fast, you're going to lose your balance like that” 

Bennett softly grabs Fischl’s waist  as she gasps “See? try to keep the pace with me, I promise I will walk slow”

F: “D-Don't grab my waist like that!”

B: “Like how? Im just helping you to balance so you don't fall”

O: *chuckles* “Looks like Mein Fraulein is getting a little bit flustered at this situation”

F: “O-Oz!”

B: *Oblivious and confused*

Much later, the team exited the domain and arrived at the city of Mondstadt. The others asked what happened to Fischl, and Bennett told them what happened with her ankle ane that they shouldnt worry.

While Diluc had to go back to the winery and Aether had a new important quest to do. Bennett helped Fischl to walk and enter the cathedral.

B: “Hello? Hey, it's me again!”

Seconds after announcing his entrance, a known nun appeared from another door

“Oh Bennett? So soon already? What happened to you no- Oh!”

B: “Hey Barbara” *smiles* “I'm sorry to bother you again, it's just that we were on a mission and Fischl twisted her ankle. Can you help her?”

Fischl scoffed “I don't have any business with- ow!”

Barbara: “Oh, I see now. Don't worry, Im sure my hydro vision will heal you in no time, Fischl, please take a seat”

B: “This way” , Bennett helped the princess to sit on one of the benches as Barbara quickly approached 

Fischl pouted and crossed her arms as Barbara touched her leg

B: “This won't take much, please don't be scared if you feel a cold sensation in you leg”

F: “Me? Scared? the cold sensation of healing wont do anything to turn me away from my destiny! Not even the dread cold of death, nor the sensation of despair and the sound of desperation of hundreds of agonizing mortal lives can-”

B: “And, ready! try to stand up this time, but don't try to overwork yourself too hard this time”

Fischl’s eyes widened a bit before she started to stand up. “The pain disappeared...” she mumbles as she started to walk

Oz: “How can we repay for your healing services, madame?”

B: “Oh? Oh, don't worry about paying me. I'm always happy to help everyone who enters this cathedral. If I started to charge mora for my services, I don't know how I would feel! No, as long as you're safe and happy, it will be more than enough”

Oz: “Those are incredible words to hear, madame. Truly you're one of the most humble and kind persons we could ever meet”

Fischl huffes and crosses her arms “Very well. I thank you once again for your services, dear nun. but I, the Prinzessin Der Verurteilung, still has a lot of jobs in this mortal realm and its remaining hours until the darkness swallows the existence of this word”

O: “We should ask Katheryne if she still has more quests for the day. thanks once again”

Bennett: “Glad I could help too”

Fischl: “Huh? Now wait there, young man. I still have some words to talk to you”

Bennett: “Eh? what happened now?”

Fischl approached with a frown to Bennett and grabbed his arm as she dragged him to a place away from the nun and the crow. Once they were far away, she let his arm go and glared at him.

F: “For all the things that happened today, and for the intrusion of the personal space of the Prinzessin, you would have been arrested and fusilated in my world…. *sigh* but since we’re not in my world, and for your sudden help, and your good intentions, I think you deserve a small reward for the time being…”

B: “Reward? ¡Oh no! It's not necessary, miss Fischl I don't need- !!!”

Bennett’s words died on his throat as he freezed. the touch of soft lips touched his cheek for a few mere seconds before she pulled out.

The two blushed hard as Bennett looked at her, shocked and not believing what happened

Fischl covered her red tomato face as she looked away “S-So, anyway… Goodbye!”

Fischl ran away as she passed through Barbara and Oz

O: “Miss Fischl! What did Miss Barbara tell you about running?”

F: “Let's go already Oz!” she yelled as she ran to the door

O: *sighs* “Pardon me for leaving so soon, Miss Barbara, I hope we can meet again in a better time”

Barbara: *giggles* “It's alright, remember that the cathedral of Mondstadt is always open for travelers and adventurers. So don't be afraid of coming back, even if it's just for just talking”

Oz: “I will remember that, thanks”

Oz quickly flies away before Fischl could close the door and run away. His questions about why she looks so red and why she was running will be answered once she calms down

Barbara smiled before looking back at Bennett, who was still frozen and touching his cheek

Barbara: “Bennett? are you feeling alright”

B: “... did a girl just kissed me...?”

Barbara: “What? Bennett are you- Eep!”

Suddenly, the boy fainted on the floor as his brain couldn't process what just happened earlier.

Barbara: *sighs* “Guess I should carry him to a bed until he wakes up..:”

Since ever that day, the relationship between the princess Fischl and the unfortunate adventurer Bennett changed, as new feelings would blossom in the near future.

[fallout-lou-begas]

Elevated Extras: Ranger Ghost Companion

You a Courier? If so, this might be your lucky day...if you don't mind walking a bit and your eyes are good. 

(Original sketch by @tarberrymentats / based on the OC Companion Meme by @falloutfandomeventhub / if you borrow this concept please tag it as #fallout elevated extras)

General

Name: Ranger Ghost

Location: Mojave Outpost

How to obtain: Complete the sidequest “Keep Your Eyes on the Prize,” then begin the sidequest “Giving Up the Ghost” to get her reassigned from the Mojave Outpost. Once freed of her assignment, she can travel with the Courier to monitor Legion activity throughout the Mojave.

Companion Quest: “Giving Up the Ghost.”

Ranger Ghost, like everyone else, is sick and tired of being stuck at the Mojave Outpost. Unfortunately, orders are orders. With the courier’s help, though, she just might be able to come down from that rooftop, but dealing with NCR bureaucracy might be a worse ordeal than Legion crucifixion.

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together. You probably can’t tell, but that’d make me very happy. Let’s get the hell out of here.

Let’s talk about your tactics. Sure. Lecture the ranger on tactics. Go ahead. / What’re you thinking?

I want you to change your combat style. (humoring) Alright. / If you insist.

Use a melee weapon. Close combat, then. / Sure. We can hold their hands and tuck them in while we’re at it. / (Wild Wasteland Enabled) Try to remember the basics of CQC.

Use a ranged weapon. (stating the obvious) It’s what I do. / You going to spot for me? / (deeply sarcastic) Aww. Finally remembered I’m a ranger?

Be passive. Sure, give peace a chance. / Don’t go pacifist on me, now.

Be aggressive: Locked and loaded. / (mocking the company line) Right, and with “extreme prejudice.”

Enough about tactics. Agreed. Anything else? / Are we good, then?

Let’s talk about how close you’re following me. Is there a problem? / What are you...implying, exactly?

Wait here. Right. Things to do, places to be? / Holding down here. / I’ll keep watch here.

Follow me. Let’s roll out. / Finally. Don’t like waiting. / Right. Skip to my fucking lou.

Stay close to me. (sternly cautious) Define “close.” / Got it, on you. / Just don’t bump my gun.

Keep your distance. Positioning, got it. / Yeah, covering you. / (facetious concern) Don’t get lost, now.

Let’s trade equipment. Don’t get fucking handsy, now. / Just don’t hog the ammo.

(Overburdened). I’m not your fucking pack brahmin. / (exasperated) I’ve only got so many pockets.

(Sneaking). Staying low. / (wryly imperative) Quiet, now.

(In Courier’s iron sights). What the fuck is wrong with you? / (slowly, emphasizing) Watch your trigger discipline. / Don’t make me take that away.

(Courier lays mine). I’ve got my eyes on that. / You’d better have a plan for that.

It’s time for us to part ways. It’s because i’m a bitch, isn’t it. / Such sweet fucking sorrow, I bet.

I’d like you to go to the Lucky 38. Hm. Sending the Ghost to the haunted house. See you there. I’ll try not to spook the Securitrons.

We can meet again at the Mojave Outpost. (sucks teeth) Guess I’ll report what I’ve got back to headquarters. Hopefully by now they’ve got someone else watching the brahmins shit full-time.

Injured: (seething) SSShhit. / Didn’t want it like this. / (with conviction) I didn’t get off that roof just to fucking bite it.

Damaged Limb: (shout of pain) Fucker clipped me! / Sure could use a fucking medic.

Regaining Consciousness: What...what the hell happened? / (trailing off) Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Death: (death rattle) / (weakly) Ghosts...can die, huh...ha...

Attributes

Aggression: Aggressive.

Confidence: Brave.

Assistance: Helps friends and allies.

Karma: Neutral.

Perks

Ghost of a Chance: When Ranger Ghost is by your side, so are the odds. In addition to gaining an extra 3% chance to critically hit, any single attack that would kill you may instead leave you just barely alive and invulnerable for a brief moment..

Drops, if killed

Ranger Vest Outfit

Ranger Grey Hat

Authority Glasses

Cowboy Repeater

Combat Knife

Iguana Bits

Grognak the Barbarian

Dialogue, Quest Details, and Ending Slides:

Dialogue

Why do they call you Ghost? What, don’t I scare you? Boo? Nothing? (beat) Well, if you gotta know, it stuck pretty quick back in basic. Not like there were many other albinos in boot camp. The all-white spooky bitch who shoots better at night? Yeah, that’s a ghost, alright. Pissed me off at first, but I came around when it started giving privates the heebie-jeebies. Just a little kick, is all.

What’s an albino? Albinism is a pigment disorder. You know, the color of your skin and hair? As in I don’t have color. Pale as a sheet.

[Medicine 35] A sharpshooter with albinism? Isn’t your vision affected? Done your homework, huh? Well, these big, bad sunglasses aren’t just for intimidation, doc. They only come off when I sleep. Sucks enough being photosensitive in the goddamn desert, but like I said. I’m a lot better at night.

What’s your real name? (the thousandth time she’s answered this exact question) If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.

Aw, come on. Curiosity killed the courier. Don’t push it.

[Speech 40] I’m just trying to understand my partner better. Then “understand” that I don’t owe you shit except loyalty. Just call me Ghost, and you’ll get that.

[Cherchez La Femme] Surely you’ve got a name to match that lovely personality. (flustered) Are you d-...I-...Yeah, I do.But you can just keep calling me Ghost. (quietly) For...for now.

What’s the deal with Ranger Jackson? Man hasn’t got a thought in his fucking head...which is why he’s such a good C.O., from the top down. He’s a nice enough guy on a good day. He’s...principled, for sure. But the man wouldn’t budge on an order from brass if it’d save his life. Stranded caravaneers get so bored and restless because of the impasse he’s overseeing that he’s started (excessive emphasis) “hiring” the rowdier ones for odd jobs off the grounds, which is why we’ve been “losing” supplies for a while. Gets shit done, I guess, but wish he’d show half that drive when bitching to HQ, but no. They tell him to sit tight, he says yes sir, and then he takes it out on us when we get frustrated at the frustrating bullshit.

Do you know Major Knight? (standoffish) Yeah. Good guy. Known him a while. Hell, he’s been at M.O. longer than I have.

What does he do? Repairs, mostly. With all the caravans backed up, we sort of have a monopoly on maintenance and upkeep. And believe me, he does damn fine work.

[Confirmed Bachelor] Is he...you know…? Is he...oh. Between you and me? Yeah. He and I are...alike. I mean, I’m the bitch everybody hates, so I don’t really give a shit, but beneath that…(thinking how best to describe him, ribbing him a bit)...accountant exterior of his, he’s really the soft, sensitive type. Needs someone to talk to sometimes. I’m that someone, sometimes, but if you get the chance...it’d do him good just to know he’s not that alone out here.

How can I best use your skills? Hard to find a way that’d be worse than all the wasted time at M.O., but I’ll make it easy for you: give me a target and let me shoot it. If it’s too close to shoot, I’m trained in hand-to-hand, and if it’s too far to shoot, it’ll never see me coming. Standard repertoire for a ranger.

What’s your opinion on the NCR? High enough to keep me enlisted, low enough to where I’ve got plenty to mock. We’re a good country, a damn good country. We’re the only real country actually left in the West. We’d be the best thing to ever crawl out of the bombed-out ruins of this war if it weren’t for all the bureaucratic bullshit, and the brass getting duller the higher you go. It’s all just song and dance and sloganeering to them out here. Whatever looks good on paper. They don’t give a shit what really happens to people out here, and if Caesar doesn’t kill us, that might. At least on the inside.

What’s it like being a ranger? Ranger training is the best, most brutal gauntlet this side of the Colorado. Hours and hours of days and days spent shooting, drilling, fighting, bringing the body to its breaking points, pouring blood and sweat just to get an inch past the wide-eye hopefuls who were always going to just wash out...and all of it just to stand on a fucking rooftop staring at ants and malnourished raiders on the interstate. I swear, if you gave headquarters a golden egg, they’d fucking cook it.

Were you at the battle of Hoover Dam? Was going to be, but believe it or not, I sat out sick. Got the fucking flu right before and was stuck at McCarran the whole time, half-lucid. Let me tell you, the whole tent of coughs and sneezes crowding around that radio, listening to the reports...when Hanlon ordered that retreat out of Boulder City, we were grabbing our rifles and getting ready to march out on foot, even if we could barely stand. We thought that was it. Of course, it wasn’t, and we cheered so loud when they radioed about the explosion that I hope Caesar damn well heard it.

Do you wish that you had been there? Of course I do. If I miss the next one because I’m stuck at the Outpost or some shit, I’m deserting with a dozen fed-up caravaneers to flank his fucking fort myself, if only for some goddamn excitement.

How do you feel about the Legion? Love ‘em. Joined the NCR because I just wanted to meet them that bad. Their new Legate’s such a heartthrob, I hear.

You’re not serious. (sucks teeth, deep sigh) Look. You saw Nipton. It was just a taste of what they do. I’ve seen good men die on crosses, and that’s a mercy compared to the good women. I hear when women sign up now, they get about five extra “are you sures?” from recruiters. Not officially, of course. Brass would never let people back home know how bad it is. But it’s just another thing that makes me glad I’m a sniper, sometimes. Engage at range. Out of reach.

What about Legion society? Do you know anything about life across the river? There’s nothing across that river. Nothing. (beat, pondering) Do you remember the Enclave War? Bitter, bloody, big explosion at Navarro? And the Brotherhood campaign out here? Even worse of a shitshow, but still, we won that out, too. But the Enclave and the Brotherhood at least stood for something. They were societies, or at least promises of one, and if things had shaken out the other way for the NCR at least something would still be standing here. The Legion isn’t like that. They aren’t “something.” They’re one big razor across Arizona, shaving everything down. And if we don’t stop them here, we never will.

What about their Legate? (with contempt) Lanius, “The Monster of the East.” Caesar must’ve plucked him out of hell or something after his first legate blew it at Hoover Dam. Word from recon is that the only reason we’re all still twiddling our thumbs there is that he’s out making friends for Caesar someplace, and he’ll be bringing them all back for a whole ‘nother goddamn jamboree soon. (tension broken by a funny thought; spoken dryly) Or should I say a Damboree. Since it’d be at the Dam.

Do you know anything about Mr. House? No. Closest I’ve ever been to the Strip has been McCarran, where I was too proud to get wasted on expensive booze in the casinos. As punishment, I got stuck with nothing to do but get shitfaced on cheap booze at the outpost. All I know is Mr. House runs the whole Strip himself, and there’s one casino, the Lucky 36 or something, that’s supposed to be all his. No one’s allowed in, no one’s ever come out. Frankly? Just strikes me as fucking weird.

Companion Quest: Giving Up the Ghost

After completing the sidequest “Eyes On the Prize” (in which the Courier checks Nipton for survivors), Ghost will remark that the Mojave’s going to hell, and all she can do is sit and watch. The Courier will reply that she ought to stop watching and travel with them, to which she’ll respond that her orders are absolute—but if the courier can change her orders somehow, she’d be indebted. The quest then begins.

= = = Stage 1: Deal with Jackson = = =

First, the Courier must speak to Ranger Jackson and convince him to consider Ghost’s reassignment. They can do this through the following dialogue options:

[Speech 80] This outpost is just waiting to be overrun by Legion. You’ll be the next Nipton unless you’re proactive.

[Speech 55; completed “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart” beforehand] Maybe I could tell your superiors about where I “found” these “lost” supplies, then.

[Barter 80] Ghost is an exceptional asset to the rangers. Stationing her here is a waste of valuable NCR resources.

[NCR Fame] There’s work to be done for the NCR out there, and Ghost is who I trust to do it with me.

[Black Widow] I’ve ways of making men come around...especially handsome men in uniform. (The Courier must then sleep with Ranger Jackson)

Note that the Courier can not simply complete the quest “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart?” as a favor to Jackson for Ghost’s reassignment. While he’ll let a caravaneer go, it’ll take more than clearing some ants from the road to get him to compromise his standing force and let go of a ranger. 

Alternatively, Jackson’s death will advance the quest.

Kill Jackson. Similar to Cass’ companion quest, Jackson can simply be killed. However, Ghost is far less sympathetic to this course of action and will confront the Courier over the murder. If Jackson is simply killed, the Courier will either need a convincing alibi [Speech 90] to argue that they weren’t responsible or admit to the murder. If the Courier fails the Speech check or admits to the murder, Ghost will turn hostile (“Maybe you didn’t fucking think this through, but do you know what we call someone who kills an NCR ranger? An enemy of the NCR rangers. Now, eat shit.”). Alternatively, the Courier can intimidate Ghost into silence with a [Terrifying Presence] option, after which a shaken but seething Ghost will simply ask the Courier to leave the outpost and never come back. Passing the Speech check is the way to not fail the quest from this option.

Kill Jackson and frame Cass. If the Courier kills Jackson themself, attempting to loot Jackson’s body will trigger a message suggesting that they could frame Cass for the murder by splashing whiskey on the body (so long as Cass is not currently the player’s companion and is currently at the Mojave Outpost, not the Lucky 38). By adding a whiskey bottle to Jackson’s body without themself or the body being discovered in the meantime, they can successfully implicate Cass for the murder, and explain as much to Ghost. She’ll buy it, since Cass was one of the most frustrated residents of the outpost and was drunk almost all the time. Cass will then disappear from the game, and if Lacey, Major Knight, or Ghost (if the Courier left the outpost before speaking to her again) are asked, they will explain that Cass was arrested by the NCR.

Have someone else kill Jackson. A desperate, fed-up caravaneer named Paul by the brahmin pens is willing to kill Jackson for 5,500 caps. This price can be negotiated down to 4,000 with a [Barter 60] check, and 3,500 with [Barter 75]. At midnight that night, Paul will attempt to sneakily kill Jackson. Alternatively, Paul can be incensed into attacking Jackson immediately and for free with a [Hot Blooded] trait check. In either case, though, there is no guarantee that Paul will succeed, and if Paul is killed then the Courier must advance the quest another way (though they can loot their spent caps from Paul’s body). When spoken to afterwards, Ghost will remark that she saw the Courier speaking to Paul and ask if they had anything to do with it. By passing a [Speech 50] check, the Courier can convincingly lie that they were trying to talk him out of it. With either the [Black Widow] or [Cherchez la Femme] perks, the Courier can lie and say that Paul very foolishly did it to try to impress them. With [Low Intelligence] the Courier can earnestly say that they thought “taking care” of Jackson meant doing something nice for him.

Somehow allow Jackson to die. If Jackson just somehow dies in an unaccounted way, such as from a spawned-in deathclaw eviscerating him in his own office, Ghost will remark on the strangeness of the situation but won’t blame the Courier. This is a failsafe option to prevent quest breakage.

= = = Stage 2: Find a Replacement = = =

If Jackson is alive, he’ll agree with the Courier that he ought to let Ghost go, but he’s still under orders to maintain a standing force at Mojave—a standing force which includes a highly trained sniper. If Jackson has been killed, Ghost will mention that Major Knight is next in command and would be glad to give her clearance, but that he won’t be able to do so without a replacement sniper, either. Either way, the Courier is tasked with finding a suitable replacement. The Courier can ask her for advice:

Who should I look for to be your replacement? They have to be NCR, obviously. Ex-NCR might work, too, so long as they’re in good standing. Any Dick or Jane off the road is a no-go, since brass put the kibosh on officially contracting mercenaries. Oh, and anyone you get would have to be well-trained. Not necessarily a ranger, but good enough to replace one, even for a sit-on-the-shitter job like this. Only the best and brightest get to stare at this fucking road all day, apparently.

Where should I look for your replacement? If you checked out some of the ranger stations around the Mojave, they might be able to move some people around. Hell, take it all the way to McCarran if you want, or with Hanlon. If you’re going to give them shit on my behalf, by all means, go nuts. A lot of higher-ups can be greased with enough favors, anyway. Whoever you get just needs the right credentials. Legion attacks get dragged asses and twiddled thumbs, sure, but bad paperwork would set a goddamn fire at headquarters.

The following characters can be recruited as the Mojave Outpost’s new watch:

A generic ranger. By speaking to the commanding officers of at least three of the NCR ranger camps across the Mojave with sufficient [NCR Fame], the Courier can speak to Chief Hanlon to arrange for Ghost’s replacement with a generic ranger. This option is impossible if “Return to Sender” has already been completed.

Craig Boone. If the Courier has completed “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” in a way that makes Boone repentant over his past, he can be persuaded to take over Ghost’s position as a good way to put his skills to use. Otherwise, he will refuse, either preferring to stay in Novac where he lived with Carla or not wanting to be stuck as a watchman again when he could be out killing Legionnaires. If selected, Boone’s home marker will change from Novac to the Mojave Outpost.

Manny Vargas. Novac’s other sniper can be convinced to take up Ghost’s post, but only if the Courier has completed “One For My Baby,” “Come Fly With Me,” and eradicated the Legion presence from Nelson. Once convinced that Novac seems safe, for now, he’ll be willing to reenlist if paid a generous salary. The Courier can either pay Manny 5,000 caps to reenlist now, pass a [Barter 65] check to explain that it’s a provisional reenlistment and reduce their bribe to 3,000, or if the Courier has already passed the [Confirmed Bachelor] check in dialogue with Knight, they can tell Manny about the cute little major sitting behind the desk all day there by his lonesome. Once convinced, Manny will relocate to the Mojave Outpost and take Ghost’s place.

Bryce Anders. This keen-eyed ranger can be recruited to Ghost’s position if he is rescued from the Vault 3 Fiends by the Courier. Once spoken with in Camp McCarran, the Courier can explain that the Mojave Outpost needs a new ranger stationed there. He will defer to Colonel Hsu’s authority on reassignments, and with a successful [Speech 60], [Medicine 40], or [NCR Fame] check, Hsu will agree to the reassignment on the grounds that it’s a useful position still sedentary enough to not complicate the ranger’s recovery.

Little Buster. The listless bounty hunter at Camp McCarran is looking for another career path and would be willing to take over Ghost’s do-nothing position. However, the only way to recruit him is to fabricate both credentials and enlistment records by either stealing personnel files from either Colonel Hsu’s office at Camp McCarran or from the filing cabinets at Camp Golf, or speaking to Daniel Contreras, who “knows a guy” who’ll take care of it if the Courier has already acquired access to Contreras' expanded inventory by siding with him in the unmarked quest “Dealing with Contreras.”

Private Halford. The sole survivor of Camp Guardian mentions that he wants to head back home through Mojave Outpost after being rescued from the mirelurk caves, at which point the Courier can mention no one is allowed to leave through there, and ask if he’d like to take Ghost’s position there instead. At first he’ll refuse, but with a [Speech 45] or [NCR Fame] check he can be convinced that a quiet, do-nothing watch assignment would be a lot better than anything else after what happened at Camp Guardian, to which he’ll agree. He will also relocate to the Mojave Outpost after being freed anyway, getting stuck like everyone else so that the speech check can be re-attempted. However, Halford isn’t considered well-trained enough for a ranger’s job. The Courier must speak to Jackson (or Knight, if Jackson is dead) and pass a [Speech 80] or [NCR Fame] check to make a strong endorsement, or a [Survival 55] check to explain how impressive it is that he survived an attack from so many mirelurks. Alternatively, the Courier can fabricate impressive enough credentials through the options required to assign Little Buster.

Once Ghost’s replacement has been assigned to the Mojave Outpost, the Courier only needs to speak to Ghost again. She will explain that she’s been “reassigned” to open patrol across the Mojave, ostensibly to track Legion activity, so long as she does so with the Courier. She also gains an additional dialogue option dependent on your choice of replacement:

What do you think of your replacement?

(Generic ranger) For this job? Any ranger’s as wasted as any other. I almost feel bad, I doubt she’ll like that fucking roof any more than I did...almost feel bad. Doesn’t quite cancel out the relief.

(Boone) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Strikes me as the...quiet, contemplative type. Likes to think. Not much else to do up there, anyway. I bet those brahmin pins have never felt safer.

(Manny) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Seems like a nice enough guy, and seems to be getting along with Major Knight. Hell, you love to see it.

(Bryce) A good man. Heard about what the Fiends did to him, and after all that, he certainly deserves a break. Didn’t think of this shit job as much of a vacation before, but seems like it’ll do him good.

(Buster) Not sure where the hell you found this guy, but if (Jackson / Knight) gave the okay, then...okay. I would’ve put a goddamn brahmin in a beret up there if it could have gotten me another assignment.

(Halford) The mirelurk guy? Yeah, he seems alright. I’ve never actually seen a mirelurk, but after hearing his story, I don’t think I want to. I didn’t even know we had a camp that far up there.

Speaking to Ghost after her replacement takes her position completes the quest, and from then on, she can now be recruited as a companion. However, similar to Boone, she will only remain the Courier’s companion if they maintain good reputation with the NCR, and as an active-duty ranger, her intolerance for anti-NCR actions is even more strict.

Ending Slides

If "Giving Up the Ghost” is started, but never completed:

NCR Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, at least she was the first to see the bearer of good news come up the road. In the moment, at least, it was worth everything to be there.

Legion, House, or Independent Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, she was the first to see the NCR’s retreat, as civilians and troopers alike began fleeing through the Long 15. She was right: this whole time, all she could do was watch.

Ghost is dead. Ghost, bitterly, died as she lived...(deep sigh) at the Mojave fucking Outpost.

If “Giving Up the Ghost” is completed:

NCR Victory: When legionnaires by the score descended upon Hoover Dam, Ghost was proud to have been one of the many rangers in the battle that kicked their shit in back across the Colorado. She celebrated with the rest of them, even a smile creeping onto her face every now and then. Still, Ghost returned to business before long, as part of a squad out East tracking down the straggling remnants of Caesar’s retreating Legion.

Legion Victory: Ghost was among the many rangers who fought at Hoover Dam, but when the army of legionnaires led by the Courier, to whom she owed her very presence there, proved unstoppable, she was ultimately among its many casualties. Their advance was too sudden, too overwhelming, for a clean evacuation, and a grisly duel with a centurion trapped her near the front. Still, the Legion never took Ghost alive. She made sure of it.

House or Independent Victory: The arrival of the Securitrons at Hoover Dam was a surprise to every NCR trooper stationed there, including Ghost. Their sudden turn against the NCR, and their allegiance to the Courier, even more so. The triumph of vanquishing the Legion was short-lived, then, as Ghost joined the forced retreat, one pale face in a sea of many. 

Ghost is dead: Despite her name, there was no supernatural flourish when Ghost died. She simply died like a ranger, fighting to the end. That’s all that mattered.

(Bonus) Cass’s Ending Slide if the Courier frames her for the murder of Jackson:

Rose of Sharon Cassidy spent all of her time at the Mojave Outpost in a drunken stupor, which is why when Major Knight oversaw her arrest for the murder of Ranger Jackson, it took so long to get exonerated. By the time the alibi was pieced together and the evidence was admitted as circumstantial, the battle of Hoover Dam shifted NCR’s attention elsewhere, and the crime was never solved. For a few months in the clink, though, at least Cass got what she wanted: home, and finally away from the outpost.

[queenof-literature]

Twilight

The bonding stories will most likely be short, but I enjoy them.

A lot of people don't seem to know, but the nickname 'cub' for Wild was established by Ort :)

I hope you enjoy part 3 of The Hero of Wild series! I know this Wild is different than Jojo's. As usual, no disrespect towards Jojo at all! I'm just a huge fan of BOTW and this is how I see it.

Day 4. It was officially Day 4 since they got their most recent member, and he had not spoken a single word. He signed occasionally, but just like after his fight with the Lynel, only when asked a question or to help them understand his land. They were still in Wild’s Hyrule, and they didn’t want to admit how tired of it they were. 

It was so large, and so dangerous and so… wild, for lack of a better word. It was different from what Time saw of Hyrule’s. Hyrule’s land was untamed, but Wild’s was teeming with creatures and plants, far more so than Hylians. It was as if everything around them breathed, as if nature itself was watching them and judging their worth. It was as breathtaking as it was overwhelming. 

Their new member himself was also overwhelming. Time felt some guilt creep in at the thought. It wasn’t the boy’s fault it was exhausting to interact with him, but it was. It was like that with every new hero. Every Link had traits that were so painfully different and yet so hauntingly similar. It was no one’s fault, it just took getting used to for everyone. And they all got used to each other after some struggling for dynamics and normalcy because they talked it out. Talking it out was the key to that. Sure some pieces just naturally fell into place, but others were talked about over a campfire, or while traveling. 

Wild couldn’t do that. Time had no idea why he couldn’t or didn’t talk. Based on the small amount of harmless stories told to each other, many of the Links were quiet during their journeys, but had opened up more after them. Wild never spoke a single word, some suspected the scars on his neck. It wasn’t irritating per say, it was just hard to understand him in genral. His hood was always drawn up, but he didn’t seem overly sensitive about his scars. Time simply didn’t understand, and it was frustrating. 

Twilight knew something, Time knew he did. He asked what had happened in private this morning after he woke up to Wild and Wolfie curled up together. Twilight looked hesitant to say anything, just explaining a simple nightmare, and that Wild hadn’t slept the other two nights he had been with the group. Time grimaced at that. He too had gone days and nights without sleep, but it wasn’t pleasant. Why was Wild still doing it outside his quest? None of it made sense. Perhaps it related to how dangerous his Hyrule seemed. 

“Did he say anything to you?” Time had asked his protege. Perhaps Wild simply had trouble speaking with a large group. Sky seemed to have trouble with that sometimes. Twilight looked conflicted, then simply shook his head. He was hiding something, and Time understood he was doing it to not break Wild’s trust. Still, Time just wanted to understand their new Link.

Based on the way this quest was going, they would be together for a while. They had next to nothing about what was happening to monsters and why they were brought together, there was no clear end in sight. Better they all get along, they were in for the long haul.

Time let Twilight stumble out an excuse before going to talk to the others. There was absolutely something going on.

~

There was something going on and Wild didn’t quite know how to confront it. Twilight could turn into an actual fucking wolf. It really shouldn’t surprise Wild. He assumed different worlds had different rules. No what surprised him the most was that the others didn’t seem to know. Wild guessed Twilight hid it well enough, but based on what he had heard in a casual discussion this morning, Twilight came back to camp after the wolf, or ‘Wolfie’ as his wolf form was apparently called, had left. Wild wondered how mad that name made Twilight. Hylia, he wanted to know what was going on! Twilight had the same marks as the wolf, he was never in the same place as the wolf from what he had heard, why was Twilight keeping it a secret? If he was ashamed, it made no sense that he would help Wild of all people. He was new, they didn’t even know him. 

Twilight was probably too good of a person to leave someone hanging during a nightmare. Wild felt a sad pang at the thought that perhaps Twilight was scared to wake him as a Hylian. Wild didn’t mean to be standoffish. Based on what little memories he had, he always had been. But he was a different person now. Or maybe he wasn’t. If he ever got all his memories back, would he combine? It was all so confusing to him. But one confusing moment at a time. 

Wild knew next to nothing about all of them. Time was intimidating, but he seemed nice enough. Sky seemed almost too nice. Legend had a sarcastic exterior. Wild wanted to talk more to Hyrule. The other boy seemed to have an odd amount of hesitance and experience, and Wild thought maybe that’s what others saw when they looked at Wild himself. Wind was animated. Wild didn’t know what else to say about him quite yet. Warriors was a strategist. He reminded Wild of someone he couldn’t remember, probably a knight he knew once. He knew nothing about Four, but the boy seemed knowledgeable and fun. He almost seemed indifferent, but that wasn’t the right word. He just seemed accepting of everything that was thrown at him, including Wild himself. Twilight overall, just seemed honest and good. They all did, but Twilight was simple, in the best way possible, and also impossibly complicated at the same time. Something about the man was just… comforting? Something he only ever felt with Zelda. Wild felt a rush of guilt at the thought of Zelda. He just got her back…

Wild shook himself out of those thoughts. Twilight obviously wanted the wolf to be kept a secret, so Wild would be sure to do that. But he really wanted to know why he comforted him. He could have just woken Wild up and ran off into the woods, by the time Wild had calmed down the wolf would be gone. Wild just wanted to ask, but he was terrified that would be a horrible mistake. 

~

The group had been traveling for a while now. Wild was near the front guiding them along a path none of them recognized from their own Hyrules.

“Wild? Is there a good place to rest for lunch ahead?” Time asked their companion. Wild nodded.

‘Safe path.’ Wild wanted everyone to understand without translations all the time, so he had stuck to signing simple things when the whole group was looking at him, ignoring the itch in his skin. 

“Okay, here then?” Time asked. It took Wild a second to realize he was still being addressed. He nodded hastily. Wild saw an opportunity to take a break from his new group. They seemed nice, but he was desperate for alone time. Except… he wanted to talk to Twilight. 

‘I’m going to go get materials for lunch real fast.’ Wild signed at the nearest Link, who happened to be Warriors, signing a few more times slower before time understood. 

“Oh, alright. Call if you need anythi- oh.” Warriors face turned slightly red when he realized his mistake, trying to think if he should apologize or just keep moving. Wild waved him off and gave a small smile. He wasn’t offended. Warriors tried to cover his sigh of relief before awkwardly going to talk to Four. Wild took a deep breath, before going to the outskirts of their little patch of rest area. Wild knew his land like the back of his hand. They were in the forests to the left of the Faron region. Apparently the group was looking for a portal or something. Sky apparently felt the sword guiding him sometimes. Wild understood it enough, but also didn’t quite feel comfortable asking questions about it yet. So far he was content to keep his guard up and go where the group needed. 

Wild approached Twilight at the edge of the area. The man seemed happy to watch his friends and go where he was needed. 

“Hey Wild.” Twilight greeted with a warm smile that made Wild freeze slightly. 

‘Do you… want to come?’ Wild signed before pointing to the woods he was about to scavenge. The others didn’t need to know he had hundreds of mushrooms in his slate. 

“Oh! Um, with you to look for food?” Twilight couldn’t help his excited smile when Wild nodded. “Do you need help? Hyrule and Legend are really good at scavenging, I can get them to-” Twilight stopped when Wild shook his head quickly. 

‘Just you?’ Wild looked nervous from under his hood. He had worn it higher since the first day he joined them, but still kept it up constantly.

“Oh yeah! Did you tell Time? Just so he doesn’t think we’re missing.” Twilight joked with a nervous smile.

‘Warriors.’ Wild fingerspelled. Maybe they should figure out some signs for Wild in the long run. 

“Oh okay. He’ll let everyone know.” Twilight got up and reached out to put his hand on Wild’s shoulder to lead him in the direction of the tree line, before freezing. Wild didn’t like being touched. At all. Twilight felt better at Wild’s appreciative look when he pulled his hand away. The two walked quietly into the woods. Once they were out of sight of the others, Wild stopped. Twilight was about to ask what they were looking for, but closed his lips when Wild raised his hands. 

Twilight recognized the words ‘you’ and ‘wolf’. His blood went cold, he could actually feel his face being drained of color. 

“Oh yeah, I like wolves almost as much as I like goats.” Twilight chuckled, having experience covering his secret. His face further drained when Wild shook his head, signing slower this time. 

‘You are a wolf. After my nightmare?’ Wild looked nervous even bringing it up. Well, no point in denying it now.

“How did you know?” Twilight sighed, cutting straight to the point. Wild pointed to his forehead and Twilight almost hit himself. Of course! The marks had grown darker over the years. Twilight expected when someone besides Time found out, it would be more, excitable? This was just anticlimactic. “Look I’m not, not telling them to lie and be deceitful, I’m just not ready to explain it ye-” Wild cut off the rant he had practiced in his head a million times by raising his hands. Twilight instantly quieted. 

‘I won’t tell. You don’t need to explain it to me.’ Twilight felt immense relief at the slow signs Wild was making. ‘Thank you.’ Wild signed hesitantly, biting his lip. Twilight realized he was talking about the comfort for the nightmare. 

“Of course. Sorry for deceiving you, I didn’t mean to. I just know you like animals and I know you don’t like us touching you at all. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just didn’t want to leave you alone with it. In the future, I could just wake you up? Or you can pretend the wolf is a different being, I don’t mind at all.” Twilight didn’t know how to help Wild while the boy knew it was really a human trying to comfort him. 

‘Thank you. But I’m used to them.’ Wild signed, genuinely trying to reassure Twilight. 

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Twilight softened. “Listen, we all have them. If you want someone to talk to, none of the other Links would mind. And if you want to be closer to someone, or further away, you can just let me know. We’ll figure something out.” Wild looked genuinely surprised and embarrassed by Twilight’s words.

‘Thank you.’ Wild signed simply once again. Something about Wild made his instincts scream, but not in a painful way. He reminded Twilight of the little fox cubs he saw in one of Wild’s fields. Independent, mischievous, and not very quick to accept support from the other foxes. They would nip at their brothers and sisters if they felt they were being too overprotective. Twilight smiled at the image. 

“We should probably get searching for food before they think something happened.” Twilight reasoned, surprised when Wild shook his head. 

The boy took out his slate and gave a few taps, turning it around to show Twilight. There were endless stacks of food that Twilight read most as having 20 or more, some like mushrooms having 100 or more.

“You had those the entire time!?”  

I know that baby foxes are called kits and not cubs, but I headcanon that Wild's animal if he touched the necklace would be a fox based off his game. It's the first animal you see in his trailer, and it's the only game that foxes are prominent. It also matches his personality.

Also a little peak into the next fic of the series: The group decides they need to come up with name signs to help Wild communicate.

[audiblesmirking]

erratic heartbeats ~chapter 6: you gotta love them over-affectionate characters~

Legend: "English unless stated otherwise" --- 'Thoughts' --- "Telepathically speaking" --- [Authors' Note]

"what are you saying, mother...?" Azumi's eyes glistened with the tears she's been suppressing. "you had other intentions...?"

Akina sighed exasperatingly, raising a hand to rub her temple, trying to ease the growing headache. "... This wasn't the right time to tell you."

"Well, when were you planning to tell me?! Years later after I've mastered my psychic abilities?!"

"Yes." Aiken answered bluntly, looking straight at his daughter's eyes as it darts from his to his wife's. The look of betrayal was prominent on Azumi's face; with eyes the widest they have ever been since she was a child, and eyebrows furrowed in denial. She refused to comment on her father's brutally honest reply. Not like she could anyway; a lump had already formed in her throat, preventing her from speaking clearly without her voice cracking midsentence. As if a rope of thorns are wrapped around her neck, occasional sharp pains pricked her throat.

"There was no other options to choose from so quickly. We feared your powers would be too much too soon, so we went with the best decision we thought." Aiken explained, maintaining eye contact as Azumi takes unconscious small steps back until her calves bumped the sofa. At the unexpected impact, she almost lost balance and, fortunately, didn't fall on her butt on the couch. It would have been embarrassing to argue after just falling.

"This issue involves me! Why didn't you consult to me first?!" She was now yelling, the dam in her tear ducts breaking and sending rivers down her cheeks. "If you thought lying to save you the trouble of talking to me would be best, you were wrong!"

"But I suppose you're too busy with other things to care about—" Azumi cut her sentence short went she silently choked on her saliva. Usually, she'd be embarrassed, but she was too deep in emotion to be feeling only a specific one for a moderate amount of time.

"What does that supposed to imply?!" Akina joined her daughter in standing, seemingly understanding her words despite it being abruptly cut. "We're doing this for you! For when you've given up all your powers you've had your whole life to your child! When you turn into an ordinary person, atleast you'll live in comfort. In luxury!" Azumi was irritated at her mother's assumption of procreating. How dare she, she doesn't get to decide on that. Whether she decides on an offspring is up to Azumi.

"I don't need luxury if it means I have to be neglected by my own parents! Parents who could always spare time for their lonely daughter, who spent all her life trying to achieve all her parents' expectations hoping to be rewarded with praise and attention." Azumi tried not to sniffle too loud, not bothering to wipe her tears. "and receiving nothing after all those years." Azumi walked away, the first time she's done that to her parents, and she felt a new sense of freedom by doing so.

"Azumi—!" Aiken was already by his wife's side, shutting her up.

"It's fine. Let her be alone for the remainder of the evening. We'll discuss about this again some other time..." He looked at his wife in the eyes as he held her in place, knowing she'll follow their daughter to her room demanding an explanation for her deplorable behavior. "We're also at fault here, Akina."

——————————

The next day, Azumi woke up all puffy and blotchy after crying so hard last night. She intended to wake up just after Aiken and Akina left for work, so she could prevent running into them in breakfast and in departing. Not like they ever encounter everyday in the morning, anyway.

.

.

.

Azumi arrived at school early, so she decided to take a detour from her usual walk straight to her classroom. She headed to the side of the school, where very few people would choose to walk through, and sat down on the concrete bench surrounding one of the trees. It was a windy morning, mild gusts of air blowing from the east, providing Azumi with the coolness she needs to feel as comfortable as possible. She was content on simply watching the leaves sway and fall from the wind until the morning bell chimes, but she was interrupted.

"Huh? Little buddy?"

Azumi turned to see Nendou approaching her. 'I didn't pin Nendou to be one of the early birds.' She gave a small wave, before redirecting her attention to the sky. 'But maybe it's just for today that he arrived here early, I do remember him mentioning about some early morning try-outs.'

"What are you doing here? Let's go to our classroom!" He beamed, before shifting his expressions to a more playful one. "Or did you forget where to go? Don't worry, little buddy, I'll show you the way!"

Azumi smiled at this. "No, I didn't forget. I just thought of clearing my head before school starts." She watched as he walked closer to her to listen more clearly to what she was saying, before another gust of wind blew the trees and drew her attention back to them.

Nendou decided to sit down next to her, planting each of his palms on the concrete beside his thighs and leaning back, using his arms for support. "Eh? Clear your head? Where will your brain go then?"

She lightly laughed, sparing her friend a glance. "It's not that type of clearing. I just want to forget about what happened to me last night."

"Huh, something happened to you last night?"

"Say, Nendou, how is your relationship with your parents?" Azumi realized her confession, and attempted to change the subject before her companion pries too much.

"I only have my mom. My dad died before I was born..."

"I–I'm sorry to have brought it up." Azumi felt bad for being so insensitive, she intertwined her fingers together and broke eye contact with Nendou. "How is your relationship with your mom, then?"

"Oh, we're doing fine!" His drastic change in expressions is questionable. "She got a new job at this company that she says pays more. I'm really happy about that, because my mom says she can buy me new shoes now! Though, last night she made me clean my room because I came home late and made her worry... Oh yeah! What happend to you last night? You hadn't told me that yet"

'To think that he came back to the topic after my distraction.'

"A–Ah, that..." Azumi hesitated, 'I guess telling him would be fine. I mean, he's not one to judge the lives of his friends, right? I'll just leave out the whole psychic powers thing.' She sighed.

"... I had a fight with my parents..."

•°●•°●•°●

"I feel like a kid who got beat up by a delinquent on their first day at a new school."

Azumi wanted to talk to Saiki about what she found out from her parents last night. She wished to tell him, most likely out of spite from being lied to, but also because it involves him as well. Just after she rounded a corner, she was surprised to see an unfamiliar student walking next to Saiki as she was heading to her classroom. She raised a hand to fiddle with her ear cuff, curious to know what his relationship was with the new student.

"I don't get why you want to hide it. Psychic powers would get you all sorts of attention." The new student was being too loud with his words in their sort of environment.

Azumi raised her eyebrows at the thoughts incoming behind her and hid in an empty classroom. She felt Teruhashi about to walk by and pass the two boys walking ahead of her.

"That's what I don't want."

A few seconds and a gasp later... 'Looks like the new transfer student fell for me, too.' Kokomi cheered in her head as she leaves the hallway, bringing Azumi out of her hiding spot. She furrowed her brows at what Teruhashi had done, confused on why she would actively search through the school looking for the transfer student only to receive a mere gasp for her efforts. She can always wait for him to hear about her and watch as he finds her. Atleast in that way, she can just sit pretty.

"Wh–Who is that beautiful girl?!"

"That's Teruhashi-san. She passed by us on purpose. You should be thankful."

Toritsuka Reita reacted loudly, shaking the shoulders of Saiki, before quickly being flocked by girls. All of which are curious about the news that spread about his psychic abilities.

"Saiki-san..." Toritsuka began, seemingly shocked by the crowd, but easily recovering. He smiled and gave a thumbs up in Saiki's direction. "Maybe I can settle for this."

'It'll die down, soon enough' Azumi thought, taking the chance to stand beside Saiki as if she had just arrived. She kept her hands in her pockets as the two psychics witness Toritsuka do his job in impressing the girls before him. "Who is he?" Azumi feigned ignorance of the situation, turning her head to look at the friend beside her.

Saiki shortly glanced at her in masked skepticism, before looking back at the gathering people around the spirit medium. "Toritsuka Reita." Azumi nodded in response, turning as well to watch the commotion in front of her.

Takahashi and his friends insisted Toritsuka tell their spirit guardians after initially being ignored, which inconvenienced the spirit medium in his quest to woo every girl that are around him. "Okay, let's see..." Toritsuka deadpanned, sparing them only a quick look. "Geezer, hag, hag, and hag. Okay, it's done."

Azumi got overwhelmed by the growing number of people gathered in the hallway, she sought solitude. In her attempt to walk away, she drew the attention of Toritsuka. "W–Wait—! You there, don't you want to know your guardian spirit?!" He gaped as she ignored him and left to go to her classroom. Toritsuka turned to the psychic he knows. "Saiki-san, do you know her?!"

"Ah, that was Kanasawa-san. She was new here on the first day."

"She's got a crazy powerful guardian spirit. Maybe even a psychic...?" He whispered to Saiki, to which his words piqued his interest.

He was about to repsond, when Kaidou came and interjected. "Guardian spirits? What nonsense." He acted uninterested, despite his thoughts telling otherwise. "Still, I'd suppose it would be rude not to hear you out. So tell me what my guardian spirit, or whatever, is."

Toritsuka was about to deadpan at him as well, but his guardian spirit was too interesting to not comment on. "Huh? Your guardian spirit is quite abnormal."

'Seriously?! 'Quite abnormal'?! Is it a demon?! A sealed monster?! A dark spirit?!'  "I-I see. So what is it? Tell me." Kaidou had an obvious blush on his face, but despite his excitement, he lowered his voice to maintain his appearance of uninterest.

"It's a chihuahua."

"Ch-Chihuahua?!" Kaidou exclaimed as the students around started laughing. Looking down on his clenched fist, he started mumbling to himself. "How dare he?! I bet he's a fraud!"

Toritsuka faced Saiki. "Introduce me to her so I can tell her about her guardian spirit." His favor sounded friendly, but adding in his expressions and his true thoughts, it became too friendly and borderline perversion. 'Cute, cute, cute, cute, cute, cute, cute. She looked so cute...' Not like he wasn't a pervert, anyway.

"What was that about, Kanasawa-sensei? Are you feeling alright?"

"Quit repeating 'cute' in your head...!"  Saiki directed his thoughts to only the spirit medium, irritated at his noisy mind.

——————————

Aiken looked up from his desk, seeing the faces of two of his co-workers. "Hmm? What do you mean, Kinji-san?" He addressed the hospital resident who was with him in the OR, lowering the pen he was holding.

"In the surgery a while ago..." Kinji started.

"Why, what about it? Did I cut something wrong in any way?" Aiken knit his eyebrows, worry bubbling within him.

"No, it's not that. You did everything perfectly."

"So what's the problem here?"

"The problem is, you did everything. It was as if there was no one there to assist you in the surgery." The other doctor, Taiji, replied. He was there to confront Aiken after having been approached by Kinji. 'I appointed a number of residents under Kanasawa-san, because he was the best of the best, but how can they learn from him if he doesn't give them a chance?'

"Yes, is there something bothering you? This normally isn't the case." Kinji held on the backrest of the chair on the other side of Kanasawa's desk, contemplating if he should sit down or not.

Aiken sighed, leaning back on his chair. "It's a family issue. I apologize. I promise it will be ameliorated by tomorrow."

.

.

.

"Kanasawa-sama, the new managers of the marketing department have arrived. We are waiting for you to teach them the ropes." A petite young woman entered Akina's office after notifying her presence with a knock.

Akina looked up from her documents, she had finished little in the span of the morning, and the executive secretary took notice of this. "Is that so?" She turned back to the papers on her desk, lifting her pen to scribble in her signature. "Call in one of the presidents to lead on the managers. Whoever you choose that best fit the role will be my substitute." She spoke after a moment of silence.

"Are you not feeling well, Kanasawa-sama?"

"Yes, and so I entrust the decision to you, May-san." Akina looked at the young psychic in the eyes, an aura of superiority radiating off of the CEO. "Good luck."

"Come on, Saiki-san..." Toritsuka pestered Kusuo after he followed him around the whole day, through lunch and even now as they were walking out of the campus.

"As you wish, Kanasawa-sama" She bowed before leaving the room. May heard the sigh coming from her supervisor right before she fully shut the door.

——————————

Toritsuka mistakenly thought Nendou was a ghost a while ago, having swung his bag at him, and were now on their way to his home at the temple to explain his reason for assault.

"Just tell me more about Kanasawa-san!" He whined like a child that was denied from eating candy. "The ghosts avoid me like the plague when I ask about her from them."

"They do?" The new information grabbed Saiki's attention, but he didn't turn to look at his companion. "Well, they should."

"Is she a psychic like you? Because I think her guardian spirit might be an ancestor of hers. They look alike..." Toritsuka gave up on his begging, knowing that Saiki will not let out information even if he cried all night. Toritsuka leaned his head back on his interlocked fingers, before his saliva was practically drooling from the corner of his mouth. "But if she is someone with psychic powers, then I should've come to her instead."

Saiki smacked the back of his head with his psychokinesis, glaring at him from the corners of his eyes. "Hey! Don't go changing your mind after annoying me last night."

"Ow—! That hurt you kno—" Toritsuka cut off his own sentence when something in him clicked, as if the slap urged the gears in his brain to work. "Kanasawa... Does Kanasawa-san live next to you?!" He held the shoulders of the psychic beside him.

Saiki frowned at his personal question and invasion of personal space. "Why would you want to know?"

"Last night, while I was walking to your house, I passed by this huge house that was beside yours. It had 'Kanasawa' written in the gate's plaque." Saiki raised an eyebrow, having already known the information, but Toritsuka continued. "It was strange, because there were no ghosts hanging around and in the lot. There are a lot of ghosts that prefer to hang out in mansions, so it came as a surprise when I saw absolute zero ghosts when I passed by."

Saiki hummed in response, before throwing off Reita's hands from his shoulders using his powers. He contemplated with the new information he received, continuing with his walk. 'Her family is a mystery, even with the help of ghosts. As I thought, there is no other way to figure them out without getting close to them.'

"We're here. Okay, could you touch me while using your psychometry?" Toritsuka said after they stopped infront of his house, making Saiki push the topic of the Kanasawa's some other time. "I think you'll know why I made the mistake I made a while ago."

As Saiki stared at him suspiciously, he held his shoulders and activated his psychometry. "This is..."

Kusuo trailed off as he saw a Nendou lookalike sleeping on the ground while leaning on the stairs "Let me introduce you. This is my guardian spirit" Toritsuka looked ashamed, and didn't even look at Saiki in the eyes when he talked.

"You really do have it tough"

•°●•°●•°●

Azumi dreaded to enter her house, standing in front of the double doors and contemplating whether to enter or to retreat to a nearby park. 'No, I shouldn't postpone this any longer. It is bound to happen, anyway.'  With gathered confidence, she pushed opened the door and walked in.

'They're either waiting in the main living room, my room, or the dining room.' Azumi hoped they were in the dining room, but the call she heard after being halfway in walking past the main living room, proved otherwise. 'Living room it is...'

She silently entered and sat in the exact spot she was the other night, feeling the gazes of Akina and Aiken as she does.

A heavy silence hanged in their air, each member of the family waiting for the other to speak up. Aiken chose to start. "It has come to our attention that you have been feeling neglected and ignored by your mother and I... and, we wish to amend the mistake we made and be given another chance to become proper parents to you." He spoke slowly, thinking over his words before it would be said, so as not to offend anyone. "I hope our talk today will enlighten all three of us of the hardships we each have encountered, and discuss a proper solution to help."

"There should be no raising of voices. We are here to talk and to listen." Aiken finished, looking at the expressions of his wife and daughter to see if they understand and agree or not. The two nodded, making Aiken nod as well.

The Kanasawa couple met gazes, and Aiken prompted his wife to talk. "I... have come to realize that I oftentimes cut you off... Zumi-chan. I didn't know it would have a greater effect on you than waiting for you to finish what you're saying. I'm sorry. This is more on a problem of self, so I don't wish for you to change because of what I've done."

Azumi stared at her mother, harboring mixed feelings on the apology she received. She looked down, thinking over of what to say. "An apology is the first step to redemption... and so, I accept your apology." She took notice of the wistful look on her father. 'Ah, I guess he has nothing to talk about, because we almost never talk—or do anything, really—alone.' Despite Azumi thinking her father had nothing to share, she was surprised to hear his voice.

"I apologize for not spending any of my time with you, Zumi-chan." He looked down, with his eyebrows low, he refused to look at his daughter. "I will make it up to you over time. We'll be bonding together atleast once a week, now."

Azumi furrowed her eyebrows at his words. "But your work..."

"I can always have a number of leaves a month. Since I'm a talented volunteer, they treasure me enough to let me manage my own schedule."

"And I can always reschedule." Akina added in. "You were right. No amount of money can ever replace the love from your parents." Akina genuinely smiled at Azumi, who slowly returned the smile. "I'm sorry it took so long for us to realize."

"it's okay, as long as you both won't forget." Azumi weakly said, afraid to hear her voice crack as a lump formed in her throat just as what happened last time.

"Ah, before I forget. About what you said of being well-rounded yesterday." Aiken raised his head.

"A–Ah, that. You can just put it off as me blabbering because of anger. I wasn't thinking straight last night."

"No, what you say matters." Azumi locked eyes with her mother. Her eyes widened by a fraction at the words she never expected to hear from Akina. "I cared too much about you being powerless, I pushed you to be perfect in every aspect. I hoped that even without psychic abilities, you can live your life whatever you wish, and pursue your dream job, as if you had them. I was obviously wrong."

"I'm sorry, as well, that I made you master various martial arts. I was simply concerned for when you encounter immoral people, and had no other way to protect yourself. By the time your powers awakened, you've already achieved all the highest honor of belts." It was Aiken's turn to lock eyes with his daughter. "I'm very proud of you."

"I pushed you to perfect every instrument, sport and hobby I give you. And I truly am sorry for everything I have put you through." Akina said after her husband finished. "I am very proud of you as well, Zumi."

Everything was going too fast and is overlapping with each other in Azumi's mind. She heard an apology and words of praise from both her mother and her father, so why isn't she satisfied? Was she too stuck up to genuinely accept their words? If so, she's feeling very horrible right now. Nevertheless, she forced a smile and wordlessly nodded. She didn't know what to think of right now, and ought to think it through the night.

"We'll be holding something similar to this every week, so we can improve our communication with each other." Aiken concluded, standing up from his seat, his family following suit. "Now, let's have dinner. I'm famished."

——————————

It was Saturday, and Azumi woke up pretty early; that is, if you can count 10:15 am as early. She had a sports lesson with Furushima Yumi, the volleyball captain she met during 'chapter iii.', and ought to prepare before their agreed time of 11:30 am.

She finished everything, from changing into her sports attire to packing water and towels in one of her bags, after almost an hour. 'Alright, 15 minutes is probably enough time for me to arrive at the school. But only if I run... Should I take the car?' While she was contemplating whilst headed for the stairs that lead down to the ground floor, she saw, from the corner of her eye, a frantic boy in front of her gate. 'Toritsuka-san?'

Azumi watched as he shouted at seemingly nothing, elaborating huge gestures as he does. 'What in the world is he going on about?'  She was curious to know what has gotten him so worked up. 'Kusuo-san's house is over there, anyway.' With her heightened hearing, without touching her power limiter, she listened in on what the spirit medium has been talking about with the air.

"Come on, it'll only take a few seconds to peek inside..." Toritsuka dragged on, slouching his back and hanging his arms, slowly getting tired of all the ruckus he's been creating. "What's so terrifying about that mansion, anyway...?"

He stayed silent for a moment, most likely listening to the ghost he's conversing's explanation. "Eh? Is that so?" He looked at the front door of Azumi's house, before sighing. "I guess I'll wait for Kanasawa-san to come out. Oh, I bet she'll be super cute today, too~!"

Azumi grimaced in disgust at his last words. 'Yeah, I should take the car.'

.

.

.

"Azumi-san—!" Furushima took notice of the approaching figure of Kanasawa, placing down her water bottle and excitedly jogging towards the girl. "You're here!" She beamed, eyes creasing in delight and arms open to hug.

Azumi slowed her walking at the gesture the volleyball captain was showing, hesitating on whether or not she was comfortable enough to accept the hug.

In the end, she awkwardly wrapped her arms around Furushima, choosing to be polite and accept the gesture of affection.

After the first few volleyball lessons that happened between the two, Azumi thought they were close enough to be called by each other's names. "ah-hah... Did I make you wait, Yumi-senpai?" She let out a short nervous laugh before stating her question.

Furushima released herself from the hug, but let her hands rest on Azumi's forearms, smile unfaltering. "Not at all. But I have missed you since our last meeting." Before the psychic could respond, the volleyball captain was already ushering her towards the court, a hand gently guiding her back. "I thought you were ready to play with a team, so I invited a few of my friends, if you don't mind."

"No, it's fine. It's a fundamental part of playing volleyball, after all."

As if Furushima's smile couldn't possibly get any bigger, it just did. "You look pretty as usual today, Azumi-san..." Once again, Kanasawa was unable to reply when one of Yumi's friends yelled their greeting once they saw them walking towards the court.

==========

A/N

discuss plot holes of "erratic heartbeats" with us! @ the link in my bio.

[razputinrp]

Family Matters

A Thicker Than Water What-If

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It’s the middle of the day, and the house is dark.

That’s the first thing Oleander notices as he parks his car. The second thing he notices is how Milla shifts at his side.

“I really wish you would have let me drive, Morry. The jeep can be so off-putting for some children.”

“The day I ride shotgun in that disco travesty you call a car is the day I’ve permanently lost my license to drive,” he grumbles, irritation that they’re having this conversation again overriding the fleeting anticipation about the place. They step out into the afternoon sun.

No one is there to greet them outside, which is uncommon but not rare; some parents just don’t want to acknowledge this day actually happening until the Psychonauts are literally knocking at their door. Which Milla promptly does, stretching over Oleander to reach the metal ring knocker. He scoffs.

Tall people. Who needs ‘em.

It takes a solid ten seconds before the door opens, and the two are greeted by a woman around Milla’s age who looks very frazzled and antsy. She ushers them inside as if any prolonged lingering will make the agents change their minds.

“Thank you so much for making a house pick-up.” Her voice is hushed and full of nerves. Oleander recognizes it as the one he spoke to over the phone. “I’m sorry I couldn’t drive her out myself.”

“It’s no problem, darling,” Milla soothes like she always does. “We understand that many families are unable to travel so far. Whispering Rock is quite the remote location!”

“But we’re here now, so let’s see the little soldier,” her companion says gruffly. They’ve been led past a fortune-telling parlor and into a living room, and while there’s a similarly-aged man sitting stiffly on the couch who stares at the strangers, there’s no sign of the actual child they’re here to retrieve.

“Oh, right, right. If you’ll just excuse me one moment...” The woman lets out a breathy, insecure laugh. “You’re welcome to sit anywhere while you wait, please.”

Milla smiles and opens her mouth, ready to politely decline the offer, but Oleander is already settling himself in a rocking chair. The woman tenses, as does the man on the couch, but neither of them say anything. The frayed mother only gives them another nervous titter and hurries up the stairs to retrieve her daughter. As soon as she’s out of sight, the other man turns to them in feigned nonchalance.

“Can I ask what you’re doing here? My wife was awfully vague about it,” he questions. It’s not accusatory but not entirely kind, either.

The pair share a surprised glance. Oleander is the first to recover. “We’re here to -”

“Zanobi!”

Both agents jump and Morry springs right back out of the chair. The man on the couch doesn't even flinch. He simply turns his gaze to the stairwell, and as the Psychonauts follow suit, they see who has shouted so loudly.

Making his way down each step with shaky legs but a deft maneuvering of cane, an elderly man gives the two a warm smile.

"Zanobi, why are our esteemed guests not being properly serviced in the parlor? My friends, I apologize for such lack of hospitality."

"Oh, no, no, no, kind sir, I'm afraid we're not here for your marvelous business." Milla offers a hand to help him down the rest of the way, which he waves off in good-nature. "But I must say, it is an honor to meet a psychic with future sight! It’s such a rare and beautiful gift!”

The elder smiles wider, pleased, but there’s a newfound sharpness to the edges of his eyes. “Thank you, signora. It is not often these days that such talents are recognized for the marvel they truly are. If you know my craft but are not customers, what purpose has brought you to our humble home and family?”

“We -”

For the second time their explanation is cut off as the woman comes down the stairs with a little girl and a suitcase in tow. They both stop halfway upon seeing the old man, who has half turned to them with a raised eyebrow.

“Zalto! You - you’re - I thought you were still taking a nap,” she stammers, knuckles turning white from how hard she’s holding the railing.

“I was.” Zalto says simply as he eyes the suitcase. His tone is mild, but something shifts in his aura that sets Oleander on edge for some reason he can’t explain. “Adelasia, dear, what is all of this about? Do you know these strangers? Don’t tell me you’re thinking of leaving us.”

The little girl seems to be trying to make herself disappear, hiding in the space between the wall and her mother. The action is enough to harden the woman’s resolve. She walks the rest of the way down the stairs, pulling her daughter behind her.

“I’m not leaving, Zalto, Mina is. These two are camp counselors. They’re taking her to a summer camp a few states away.”

Zalto’s head swivels back around to the agents. His friendly demeanor has been replaced entirely with a glare that could wither a cactus.

“Oh? And what kind of ‘camp’ is this?”

They feel pressure bear down on their minds, and immediately push it away on instinct. The old man sneers.

“Aha, psychics! I knew it! Are you trying to take mia piccola away from me?”

“Nothing of the sort, good sir!” Milla attempts to de-escalate. The old man falls silent, watching her with nothing short of pure loathing. “We were contacted about a budding young mind who was very interested in coming to our Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp! She’ll be able to explore her powers in a safe environment with other talented children! As a fellow psychic, I’m sure you underst-”

“Is this true?!” Zalto directs the question at the little girl, who has pressed completely against her mother’s side. Something ugly prickles at the back of Oleander’s skull. “Are your dear Nonna’s lessons not good enough for you, Guillelmina? Do you think she is going too easy on your ‘budding young mind’?”

“Now wait just a Sam Hill second,” the army man tries to argue, because the kid looks like she’s going to fold in on herself like an origami crane and the prickling is getting worse. Zalto doesn’t even look at him.

“Quel il ragazzaccio ti ha messo in testa queste idee assurde?”

There’s a newfound level of vitriol that hadn’t seemed possible from the old man until this latest sentence was uttered. Neither agent understands Italian, but neither of them miss how pale and panicked the girl has become. Milla twitches suddenly in an almost-flinch, but Oleander can’t pay her much heed with how he’s trying to keep separate the roaring of this patriarch and the roaring inside his own head.

The girl finally speaks for the first time in front of them all. Every word is trembling. “N-No, Nonno, this has nothing to do with -”

“This was my decision.”

Everyone turns to Adelasia in surprise; even Zanobi, who’d been doing his best to creep out of the living room without being noticed. She wavers under the stares, particularly Zalto’s, but holds her ground.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Mina could use the socialization at the very least, and a change of scenery and pace would also be good for her. She wasn’t even aware of this until I brought it up to her last night. None of the family was aware.”

There’s weight to that statement, a context that the two agents don’t have but recognize as significant regardless. Zalto’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“Absolutely not. I forbid it.”

It’s said so softly, so unobtrusively. It makes every single muscle in Oleander’s body stiffen like frozen meat. This man is gangly, and average-sized, and is so decrepit he could probably be blown away by a gust of wind. And yet the tone of his voice, the way he commands all attention and submission, pulls at memories that the agent would rather stay buried.

This man reminds him of his father.

Adelasia very nearly loses her nerve right then and there, but then her eyes land on Zanobi, who looks at her with a strange new respect, and it’s enough.

“It doesn’t matter if you forbid it, Zalto. I am Guillelmina’s legal guardian, I’ve already signed the paperwork, I’ve already paid the fees, and transportation has been provided. She’s going to that camp.”

An eternity passes in the span of half a minute as mother and great-grandfather square off in a battle of wills. But no matter what wordless communication is passing between them - and there is quite a bit of it, judging by the way Adelasia’s brows pinch and her lips tremble - he is unable to make her back down.

Finally Zalto concedes, stepping to the side so that Guillelmina can pass unharmed and unbothered to the side of the Psychonauts. She does so with great reluctance, and despite the fact that they’ve ‘won’ so to speak, Oleander knows a hollow victory when he sees one.

Whatever family fallout this will cause, it will be devastating.

“Well, Mina, is it? Let’s head out to the car. We have a long drive ahead of us and I’m sure you’d like to get to camp sooner rather than later!”

Milla ushers the shell-shocked child towards the door before anyone can change their mind on the whole endeavor. Her partner starts to follow, and only pauses because he has to make sure he heard it correctly.

“Thank you.”

Hands twitching at his sides, Oleander gives Adelasia a long, grim look. She doesn’t know that she’s thrown her child into the fire, into his fire, but something tells him she would take that risk even if she knew.

“Ma’am,” he says to her with a tilt of his head. He can’t even look at Zalto.

“Sir.”

Milla is waiting patiently for him right outside the doorstep. They acknowledge each other and Mina, now between them, before heading for the army man’s jeep.

They stop as they realize the girl is no longer walking with them. She’s stopped completely about a foot behind them, looking at the car as though it’s a mirage.

“Darling? Are you coming?”

She nods once but doesn’t move. The agents share a glance; they’ve been doing that an awful lot in the past ten minutes, and it would be funny if not so concerning.

Guillelmina turns to look up at the house. She stares at the second story window, partially covered by curtains but otherwise open and seemingly unoccupied. Whatever she sees there - or doesn’t see - it’s enough to make her turn back to face the jeep again.

A glowing orange hand appears in front of her, startling the Psychonauts almost as much as it does the girl. It hovers a moment as if unsure before pressing against the car’s back door and pulling at the handle. Tugging the door open, the telekinetic hand waits patiently for her to enter, almost like a chauffeur.

“What a lovely display!” Mina praises. “Look at how far you’ve come already all on your own! You’re a natural, darling!”

Mina starts crying.

It lasts only a moment before she’s wiping her face on her sleeve and holding her head up high, but it doesn’t escape notice by either Psychonaut.

“Mina? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” the girl says in a cracked voice. She climbs up the jeep and settles herself into the backseat, watching as the TK hand closes the door gently behind her. It presses palm-up against the window and she returns the gesture with her own physical hand, a thin barrier of glass all that separates them.

The orange glow dissipates, and no evidence is left of the encounter.

Oleander and his partner are quiet as they get into the front and buckle up, but they can’t help staring into the rearview mirror at this odd little child, who has curled up with her suitcase at her side and the Whispering Rock pamphlet held between her hands like a lifeline. And perhaps it is a lifeline, just not in the way the two agents are assuming. Oleander starts the jeep and they head off.

It’s the middle of the day, and the house is still very, very dark.

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

@the-family-fortune​ and I spent a long night talking about Thicker Than Water and some of the implications of how it might have changed if Raz hadn’t tried to run at the end. It inspired me to write this monstrosity. I have more ideas so there may be a part 2 someday, but for now have a fic of a totally normal child leaving a totally normal family to go to a totally normal camp :)

[drcrushers]

Here’s a prompt to YEET into your inbox: An AU (specifically one you’ve never seen done yet for the couple)

OOOH. I HAVE SO MANY. 

but let’s go with something that’s both hadestown and mythology AU.

the fire crackles and sends another shower of sparks into the air, the logs shifting slightly. persephone glances up briefly, eyes narrowing as she takes in the darkness that the fire doesn’t quite reach beyond the mouth of the cave. she isn’t worried; they’re relatively safe for now. a rarity in times of war, but they’re promised at least one night’s rest before what she suspects is another round of fighting that could keep them busy for days, if not weeks without end.  she twists her arrowhead in her hands, admiring it’s fine point before she sets about lashing it to the shaft. it’s sharpness reflects the fine craftsmanship of it in the glint of the fire, her gift from the cyclops creatures that are camped with the giants just over the next hill. she’s eager to use them, to see how well they dig through the armor and skin of the titans as promised. there’s a shiny new bow laying to her left, far more styled and sturdy than her wooden one.  “here.” she glances up as hades holds out a cup of ambrosia to her. she smiles her thanks, taking it so he can join her at the fire with his own cup. it burns when it hits her tongue, flooding her with more warmth than the fire ever could. “are they arguing again?” she asks idly, jerking her head toward the back of the cave where she knows the others to be settling for their night.  “per the usual. hera and deme still disagree with zeus’ plan. but it’s the only one we’ve got.” hades stares into the fire, watching the flames as she finishes building the arrow she’s on and adds it to the growing pile between them before picking up another.  “it has to work.” she frowns, brows furrowed. “i don’t like it either, but it’s our best shot.” a pause. “but i don’t like you being that close to them. invisible or not.” “about as much as i like you crackin’ open gaia more than she already is.” he remarks, and persephone huffs. no, gaia is already scarred up and entirely barren in some parts from the war. years of fighting have a way of leaving their marks - physical and emotion. on gods and environment alike, her mind supplies. she and hades both have their fair share.  “tartarus is too good for them, my opinion.” she mutters. “they oughta be destroyed.” a pause. “sorry. i just - i forget how hard it is on you. i know your momma means well.” her fingers still in their work, and she tilts her head to look at hades. his lips twitch as he regards her, the fire flickering in those dark irises.  “i just wish she’d joined our side. i don’t understand how she can still love him.” hades rumbles. yeah, his father is a right bastard. which is why persephone feels vaguely unwell at the idea of hades going anywhere close to them. if something happens - well, there won’t be any stopping her in a quest to avenge him.  she reaches across the small gap between them, taking his hand in her own. he lifts her hand to kiss her knuckles fondly, brushing his thumb across the back after he does.  “just promise me you’ll be safe.” persephone says quietly. “that you’ll come home to me.” hades’ expression softens, and he nods, a few strands of loose hair escaping the low ponytail it’s tied back with. she reaches up to brush them back behind his ear.  “promised, didn’t i?” he adds as they both take a sip of ambrosia.  “you and i know you’re about as likely to be careful as a dog has fleas.” persephone remarks dryly. hades’ companion (new, but more loyal than most of his siblings) lifts one of his heads from the other side of the fire. “present company excluded, beastie.” she adds to the canine who has yet to have a name.  “this war ends, we’ll all be better off.” hades holds her hand between his own as they sit. persephone looks down to her lap for a moment, studying the liquid in the cup of her other hand. “that offer to marry ya still on the table when this is done?” she asks, and hades looks vaguely amused.  “of course. you plan on takin’ me up on that offer?” “thinkin’ on it.” she grins, and leans over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “though i dunno if i can take livin’ up on that mountain we’re fightin’ for with that motley crew of yours.” “wherever you’d like.” he says, a bit too quickly. his face is flushed golden and she can’t tell if it’s heat from the fire, the ambrosia, her, or some combination of all of the above.  “we could set ourselves up real nice somewhere, once they get done drawin’ straws for realms.” she adds the last as an afterthought. another contention of the fights that frequently break out among his siblings and frankly, she’s glad to have no dogs in the damn race. “soon as we send the titans straight to hell.” hades replies. “i wanna marry the woman who stood beside me through all of it.” a pause. “thank you.” persephone laughs. “for what? for being stupidly in love with you?” “that,” he laughs with her. “and for bein’ on our side.” “wasn’t even a question when you asked, lover. i may not have the same stakes in it as you, but this war has been a disaster for everyone.” she rests her head against his shoulder, and they watch the fire continue to burn. she feels him drop a kiss to her hair.  “if i gotta keep my promise, you gotta keep yours.” he says in the quiet silence that settles between them.  “i will. we’re gonna survive and then you ain’t ever gonna get rid of me.” persephone muses. “though i reckon we both get wiped out it won’t be a problem anymore.” “----always the optimist.”

[varricmancer]

Lost And Found  | 4

Also available on AO3

Pairing: Varric Tethras x OC

Summary: Instead of the nothingness she had craved, Crystal woke up in the world of Thedas. What had once been merely a story that she loved now seemed very real and she was right in the heart of it all. She soon finds a reason to live again and a love in the arms of someone as quietly broken as her.

A/N: Okay, a million years later and here is Varric's POV. It's a bit choppy, but I meant for it to be like that because it's, ya know, from his POV. It's not a retelling of events but simply a glance into his mind. Also, he's a man - and a horny bastard at that - so there's a bit of nsfw thoughts going on in this chapter. Lots of body appreciation. I love writing characters that are already whipped and can't figure out what that means lmao. You poor sod, you had no chance.I'll try to be faster with the next chapter, because I'm just as excited as you guys to see what's happening

A wave of relief spread through the party as the clanging of swords and crinkle of lightning were silenced. As one, they holstered their weapons and strode back to the waiting wagon and the rest of their traveling companions.

Varric spared a glance for one of the bodies lying still as he passed - an unfortunate young apostate sporting one of his arrows in his chest.

Killing never got easier, never mind what kind of bullshit he spouted. No matter that it was his life or theirs - he’d still be seeing the startled green lifeless eyes of a boy barely reaching adulthood in his dreams, along with all of the countless others that already haunted him.

He sighed wearily and climbed back onto his pony, adjusting his saddle sore ass as well as he could while he waited for the party to get back into position. The wagon of supplies and it’s guards were back into place behind him soon enough, with the Seeker and “The Herald” leading in the front.

The group of fighting Templars and Apostates were cleared from the road ahead which lead to their destination of a little hamlet called the Crossroads. By all reports, it was a tiny village barely worthy of even being called that, but due to its position (and that fact that Redcliffe was unreachable at the moment), it had become a sanctuary for refugees and the wounded.

A chantry mother had sent word to Haven asking for help with protection and supplies. Apparently, she’d even asked for the Herald to come himself. They’d all agreed it was an excellent chance to get word out about their newly formed band of do-gooders and let the people get a look at Maxwell Trevalyn, the freshly dubbed Herald of Andraste.

Varric wasn’t too sure if it was true, but he’d also seen too much shit throughout the years to rule it out completely. Regardless of whatever lofty title they were trying to burden him with, Maxwell still looked like a scared kid who just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. However, the way he worked hard and silently accepted leadership despite being completely out of his element reminded Varric of Hawke in their early days - if he were tamer and had been raised as a pampered nobleman, that is.

The point was, Varric had taken one look at the kid and known he wasn’t going to be going home anytime soon. This Maxwell was going to make a name for himself and spawn a tale for the ages, he was sure - if he had the right kind of people watching out for him. He was getting too old for this shit and wanted to go home, but he felt like this kid was going to need someone in his corner. And this whole situation felt off in so many ways that he’d probably feel guilty if he did try to leave.

So that's how he found himself traveling around the godforsaken Hinterlands -  saddle sore, sunburnt and with a newfound hatred of bears - towards the beginning of their adventure. At first glance, this was simply a goodwill quest - show up and shake some hands, pass out food, kiss a few babies - but that group of apostates and templars that had been blocking the road were troubling. Sadly, he knew who to blame for it.

When the Crossroads came into view, he finally realized how much they were needed here. The chantry mother hadn’t mentioned how dire it really was or he suspected they would have sent help earlier. The people walking around were gaunt and dirty, many of them sporting bruises or missing limbs. They all looked severely malnourished, more so than the usual peasant. The moans and screams from the wounded were near-constant, adding to the practically visible cloud of desperation over the village. Add a bit more sewage stench and some unreasonably large rats and it would be just like good old Darktown.

They were able to spot the bright plumage of the chantry members working with the wounded and quickly made their way over to them. Villagers watched them with dawning hope in their eyes. A few of them started to cry and some of the children had even begun to cheer.

This. This was why Varric kept putting his own ass on the line all the time.

While Maxwell and Cassandra spoke to the chantry mother, Varric and Solas helped pass out the goods to the villagers. Soon enough, the pain in the ass bear that had attacked them earlier was chopped to bits and passed out among everyone to be cooked for the evening meal. Blankets and soaps, grain, and potions were all tearfully accepted by the people he handed them to. He may not be a very good man, but the joy he found in helping these people assured him that at least he wasn’t a bad one.

He was just handing off the last of the goods when Maxwell strides over, the weathered mother walking behind him imperiously.

“Everyone, this is Mother Giselle. She has some interesting news,” Maxwell grins, practically bouncing on his heels.

“Is it that everyone here is standing on death's doorstep? Because we noticed,” Varric drawled.

He was technically Andrastean, but that didn’t mean he let corrupt clergy off easy.

Her only tell that the words hit was a slight tick in her jaw as she nodded once.

“The situation here is deplorable, however, with the status of things we were unsure of where to ask for aid. I took a chance when I heard the hands of the Divine were involved in your “Inquisition.”

“And we are happy to help,” Cassandra stated as she rejoined the party. Her raised eyebrow towards Varric was something he’d long ago interpreted to mean behave .

“Yes, well,” Maxwell cleared his throat. “Mother Giselle says that another fell from a rift. A woman, no visible marks though.”

“An abomination perhaps?” Cassandra muses, standing straighter and placing a light hand on her sword.

“She appears to be a regular woman, free of magic or any signs of corruption. She fell from the rift and beyond a few broken bones and a few odd quirks here and there, nothing seems off about her,” Mother Giselle answers with a weary sigh. The way that she’d said ‘odd quirks’ like just mentioning them gave her a headache made Varric want to meet this woman very much.

The mother waved them away like annoying gnats soon after, with instructions to ask around for information on the area and what they could do to help. He supposed it was too much to expect her to already know that kind of (extremely important) information.

Thankfully, they found a soldier called Corporal Vale that seemed more informed and actually cared about taking care of the people there. Between him and a few others that piped in their opinions, the party discovered that what the people of the crossroads needed most right now was food and protection from the increasingly cold nights. They’d get a nice reprieve with the supplies that they’d brought from Haven, but that still wouldn’t be enough.

“I heard ye’re wanting to be put to work. I reckon I have a thing or two for ya,” a man called out as he strode towards them. They had just been discussing where to go from here, so anything was helpful.

“Of course, good sir. How may we assist you?” Maxwell plastered on his charming court smile, which seemed to have little effect on the man. Not that surprising considering the fellow looked as rugged and of the land as they come, and Maxwell reeked of privilege.

He grunts and looks over their little band as though he found them wanting, but good enough for now. His gaze only showed a sliver of appreciation when they landed on Cassadra (how original), then he seemed to meet Varric’s eyes straight on as though he assumed that he was really in charge.

“The goods that you brought us will help for a few days, but we’ll need more if we’re to recover enough to get back on our feet. Our lass Crystal says there’s a flock of rams over the hill. We’ve been unable to do any hunting what with the fighting all about so we’d appreciate if you brought in a few.”

“Of course,” Maxwell nods. “And you seem to know Crystal well?”

“Aye, I’m the mayor of this little corner. Know all my people. Whatever that daft old mother has been filling your head with needs to be ignored. Crystal is just a sweet and quiet lassie doing her best.”

“Oh, yes of course. We simply wanted to meet her.”

“After the hunting, if you please. She’s one of the ones that's been giving her rations to the little ones and I’ll not have her interrogated on an empty stomach.”

This Crystal must be quite the woman to inspire such loyalty despite her origins, Varric muses.

He can tell Maxwell has more questions, but with a few whispered words (orders) from Cassandra, they head off to hunt.

****

It was dark by the time they made it back and The Crossroads already appeared refreshed. There was a massive bonfire in the middle of the road where numerous pots and spits were working overtime to prepare the food they’d brought earlier. Kids were running around screaming and laughing as their parents watched with obvious relief. A few had even set up some rickety old instruments nearby to liven the place as they celebrated their newfound hope.

Several villagers rushed to greet their wagon and relieve them of the burden. They’d easily hunted down ten whole rams, stopping when it seemed like it would be enough to feed them for a few days and have enough left to preserve.

Varric wished there was more he could do at the moment, but he promised himself he’d write a few letters once they got back to Haven. A few favors called in and a bit of coin spread around and he’d have this little Hamlet healed in no time. And best of all, if he did it using the right channels, no one would know that Varric and his cursed bleeding heart was responsible for it.

Cassandra and Maxwell got pulled into a conversation with the Mother and the mayor (who had finally introduced himself as Giles) that Varric ignored as unimportant while he observed everyone else instead.

They already seemed in awe of Maxwell, sneaking glances his way with eyes shining with admiration. A few whispered words here and there would make today’s rescue seem more romantic than passing out a few slabs of dead sheep. It was always amazing watching the beginning of a legend be born.

His eyes flitted from one person to the next, all of them looking fairly similar as lower class humans tend to do. The sun-burnt skin, hunched backs, callused hands. The men smiling with three teeth left and the women looking haggard and drained after at least fifteen pregnancies.

It wasn’t until a couple of men moved to the side that he noticed the lone figure in the back.

At first glance, she was just as average as the rest. Peasant clothing without a shred of adornment anywhere. Injured somehow, as she had her left arm in a linen sling.  Normal brown hair and eyes, pale skin, thin lips. But something was telling him to take a second look, so he did. And then he began to observe the little things. The way that her skin was free of marks except for a few freckles, no sun-burnt patches, and semi-clean like she at least made an attempt to wash up here in the wilderness.

Her hair was basically average brown and pulled into a no-nonsense braid, but it was so long it reached her waist and when it caught the light of the fire it shone with a fiery copper highlight, as though to hint at hidden depths. Her eyes glinted like amber, big and trained on his party with just as much wonder as the rest of them. He thought they rather reminded him of Halla eyes. He didn’t believe a woman would find that complimentary though, so he’d try to think of something else.

Her lips were thin but appeared soft and kissable (where the fuck did that thought come from?). She smiled a little when she looked at Cassandra, and he noticed she had some of the whitest teeth he’d ever seen, bright and straight. A full set, too. Even he was missing one after a brawl a few years ago.

And that body! Andraste’s ass, he hadn’t seen a body like that on a human female outside of brothels. He’d bet that before she’d been forced to essentially starve she’d been voluptuous , but even now she was a good handful. Peasants never had this much meat on their bones, so that was his first hint that she was not like the rest. She was short, boasting only an inch or two above him, but he thought that maybe added to the appeal.

Those tits looked like they were trying their best to burst out of that ill-fitting dress, and the backside wasn’t faring much better. And the way that her waist curved in before flaring out into hips made for a man to grab onto.

Shit.

He glanced down at his pants, grateful that between the darkness of night and the constriction of the leather, his growing problem shouldn’t be too obvious. He shook his head and went back to studying her.

Her most damning feature, however, was her hands. You could tell a lot about a person by their hands. His were callused and scarred, with ink permanently staining his nails. The average human peasant’s hands were even worse, usually the color of leather from their life working outdoors and short jagged nails were practical.

Hers were so tiny he could easily fit them both in one of his hands and have room to spare. He could tell how soft they were even from here. Pink and not a spot in sight, with nails that were long and rounded, with flecks of pink on them like they’d once been painted (something he’d only seen done in Orlais).

A lady. And despite her small stature, definitely a human. Why was she here?

He crept through the crowd, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible until he made his way to her side.

“It’s always us short ones that get stuck in the back, huh?”

He patted himself on the back mentally for such a smooth intro. She turned to him and he was struck by the emotion in her eyes. She was excited to see him ? She could be a fan, he supposed, but not many actually knew his face.

Up close, she was even more intriguing. He stood close enough for her breath to touch his cheek, and was amazed to smell clove and peppermint. Third hint that she wasn’t from around here, as human peasants always smelled like mead and rotting teeth.

He let his gaze travel over her, mostly to gauge her reaction and slightly because he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the massive mounds of flesh trying to burst from her borrowed dress. She blushed sweetly, making him feel like a lecher for a moment, but she didn’t seem to mind him looking.

Interesting.

Just as he was about to lay it on thick, Maxwell found them and drew her into a conversation. It turned out that his hunch was right and she wasn’t from around here. In fact, she was the one they’d been told about. The other “Fade Walker.” She didn’t seem to be touched by the experience like Maxwell had been, but the fall from the rift had been what injured her.

Her voice when she talked to Maxwell was quiet and shy like she wasn’t sure they wanted to hear what she had to say. Her body language was like she was primed for flight the moment one of them made a wrong step, even as she practically begged for their help. In fact, she reminded him of the injured dove that Fenris had rescued once. Dog had injured the bird’s wing and Fenris had taken it in and patched it up. It had been a timid little thing, jumping over every sound. But it was sweet and would trill and coo whenever Fenris spoke to it.

Varric frowned as he listened to them talk and stood at her side as Solas healed her fractured wrist, feeling a strange sort of protectiveness well up inside him. The feeling itself wasn’t unfamiliar - he was protective of his friends, of his dumbass brother, of Bia - her . But he barely knew this woman.

Maybe it was just that she seemed so...vulnerable. So soft. Every emotion played out on her face like she just wore her heart out for everyone to see. Anyone with decent skill in observation could tell this was the sort of woman that you protect from the world. That you keep safe behind walls filled with love and laughter, flowers in her hair and children at her feet.

It had been a long time since Varric had ever seen such a woman. Had he ever?

Even with the reveal of her “knowledge,” he could tell that she’d only held the rest back out of fear. Either that or she was literally the best spy in all of Thedas.

When they’d finally left that evening, he’d thrown her the sending crystal on a whim. He’d been holding onto that to give to Maxwell, and they were not cheap or easy to come by. However, he’d noticed her anxious gaze following him as they walked away and had again felt that urge to protect. Anything could happen and they’d be gone for an entire week. He sincerely doubted she knew how to even hold a knife, let alone protect herself with one.

The nightly storytelling was to reassure himself as well as her. He was sure letting Crystal hear them talk would ease any worries she might have about traveling with strangers. And when she silently answered and let him talk, he knew it was still in her possession and everything seemed fine. If something happened, he hoped that she’d be able to figure out how to use it and alert him. He’d have the apostate elf figure some way to get back quickly since he had the look of someone who knew more than he let on.

****

A week flew by and their party was growing increasingly hopeful about Crystal’s “usefulness” to the inquisition. Varric had to grit his teeth and clench his fist to keep from hitting Solas every time he used that word in conjunction with her. “Useful.” Like she was an item instead of one those that they were meant to protect.

Her notes that she’d shared had been really good, however. They’d managed to close down the rebel camps and clear the roads, took down a creepy green demon thing, and gotten a decent amount of horses to tide them over until they completed Master Dennett’s tasks.

Maxwell had declared the night before that they would take Crystal with them when they left for Haven. Varric knew that once they got there he’d have to watch out for the Nightingale, but at least he felt better about leaving her in a place surrounded by people he semi-trusted while he fought the good fight. Why he felt like that was his responsibility to worry about, he still hadn’t quite figured out.

It had become a little clearer, however, when they’d finally reached the Crossroads again and there’d she’d been like a ray of sunshine waiting for him. Maybe this protectiveness over her was 85% his cock’s fault, he thought, his pants tightening as she neared.

She looked a lot healthier since their last visit, obviously having made good use of the rations they’d left. Her eyes were bright and full of genuine happiness, smiling up at him. She’d let her hair free today, and it fell in luscious waves to her waist. Her clothes were once again borrowed and ill-fitting, but obviously the nicest she had. If it was possible, it seemed even tighter than the last dress, her modesty being miraculously saved by a worn strip of leather around the bodice.

It was strange how he felt like he could breathe properly now that she was in his sight. Had he been that stressed before? What was it about this damned woman? There hadn’t been anyone that had stirred him this much since...her .

And she was so easy to talk to. She spoke mostly only after someone else had spoken first, but she took his flirting in stride and offered witty responses. But every reaction to his touch and heated gaze seemed genuine and refreshingly honest. No practiced teasing he was used to.

And much later that evening was when he realized he was in trouble.

With a capital fucking T.

Because he’d been teasing her with the shirtlessness and letting his hair down, he’d admit it. If he was going to share a room with her for the night he wanted to play a little. Her reaction to him was flattering. So no one could blame her if she’d been trying to tease him back.

And that had been his first instinct when he’d turned to face her standing in front of the fire. That she’d finally shown her true colors and was asking for it. Begging for it. He’d been one step away from throwing her onto the bed and making her scream.

Until he’d looked at her face and seen the genuine innocent embarrassment of a lady. It had taken everything in him to calm down and let her run past him towards the bed. The damage had already been done to his mind, though, as everything the chemise had revealed to him was imprinted there like a tattoo. The dusky rose nipples firmed by cold, every inch of unblemished skin begging for his mouth, the strange nakedness of her mound.

He was sure if he played his cards right he could have her. Say a few things that women like to hear, promise a bauble or two, and she would let him fuck her. He wasn’t a saint and he’d done it before.

But there was something about the way she looked at him with such...admiration. Maybe even a little wonder and, yes, even a little attraction. He’s seen it all before, of course. He’s Varric Tethras - famous author, the right hand of the Champion, and heavy player in the underworld. Having people offer themselves for a night was a regular occurrence, and he was silver-tongued enough to get anyone else he might want.

With her, he just couldn’t do that. Couldn’t watch the trust and admiration fade from her eyes. She probably wasn’t as “innocent” as she seemed, but she certainly wasn’t one of his usual types of paramours. She was the type you kept, the kind that could wrap themselves around your heart so tight you couldn’t exist without them. He’d been there before and didn’t think he could survive that again.

****

Varric couldn’t seem to stop his gaze from straying to the newest member of their crew as he spun a (only slightly embellished) tale to entertain them for the evening. He was used to his audiences gasping in shock or staring raptly with excitement. Instead, she was watching him with a smirk that tilted her pretty lips, like she knew he was full of crap and was letting him spew it all anyway. But even more captivating was the look in her eyes - warm and fond, dangerously so. Like all he had to do was say the right words for her to tumble into his arms.

It was a look that he was growing increasingly familiar with over the past few days as they traveled back to Haven. And the idea of talking her into his bed was also becoming a regular thing. No matter how many times he told himself no, how often he argued with his own damn self explaining all the perfectly sensible reasons he shouldn’t, it still floated around in there.

Three days of taking up the rear of the party so she and her giant nug would be protected in the middle were beginning to take its toll. Because back there he had a perfect view of her.

He could see when she was amazed and cooing over some new sight. When she giggled because her stupid nug stopped in the middle of a trail to eat a flower. When she and Maxwell would chat about art, something she seemed educated on. When she tried so hard to fight off her exhaustion, yawning and stretching her arms until he thought her shirt would finally pop open.

And that damned shirt. It was his , and she had no right to look so appealing in it. She hadn’t had enough clothing with her so he’d tossed some spares to her and he’s regretted it ever since. The pants stretched over her legs like a second skin, cupping her ass and luscious thighs. The shirt was made with a purposely low v on the front since that’s how he liked them. On her, it was damn near scandalous. Her cleavage was out there for everyone to see. She looked incredible . And he was suffering .

“I said what do you think, Varric ?”

The louder than necessary yell near his ear jolted him from his thoughts. He turned towards Cassandra, the annoyance on her face comfortingly familiar.

“Pardon, Seeker. I got lost in the story. Did you need something?”

“You finished the story at least ten minutes ago. We were now discussing arming Crystal,” Cassandra scoffed, her disgust with Varric’s apparent lack of awareness evident.

“Arming? What for?” He tried for nonchalance, the thought of sending her into battle raising his hackles.

“Protection, dwarf. I only have so many eyes and if we get ambushed there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to protect her completely. She says she’s never handled a weapon before. What should we start her with? A dagger, perhaps?” Cassandra stares at Crystal in thought.

The woman in question scrunches her nose. “I suppose so. It’s small enough that I could handle it, I guess. But actually stabbing someone?” she shivers.

“A dagger is handy to have on hand, of course. I’d prefer you to be farther away from any combat, though. Take up the rear with me,” he suggests. He'd rather her be somewhere he could keep an eye on her, and right at his side seemed like the best idea.

“Like a bow and arrow? I know for a fact I can’t pick up that monster of a crossbow.”

Varric chuckles, suddenly warming up to the topic. He didn’t want her fighting, true, but it would be good for her to be prepared.

“I have a regular bow I’ve been holding onto. I was going to see if someone back in Haven wanted it since it’s decent. Hold on.”

He grunts and stands up, walking over to his pony to rifle around the packs. He pulls out a medium-sized bundle in leather, unwrapping it as he walks back to her. He pulls out a bow and hands it to her to look at.

“Its a Dalish hunting bow. I think it was made for a kid. Compact enough for you, though. Woods sturdy. I restrung it myself. And I think the carvings are just birds, nothing religious,” Varric explains, hovering by her shoulder as she looks it over.

“You’ll teach me?” she asks softly, the beginnings of a smile tilting her lips.

“Anything you want, little dove.”

The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, his eyes meeting her’s as they wore matching shocked expressions.

She stared at him and he felt not for the first time that she could see every inch of his tarred soul...and somehow still felt like smiling at him?

Her grin was tiny and shy, but it was there, making him puff out his chest like a fool for pleasing her.

“You’re the best,” she said softly then turned back to coo more at her new bow.

He wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t the best. He wasn’t even good.

But she made him want to try.

****

Some questions you probably have now:

1. Why do you keep writing Giles like he's from Scotland? - I dunno either, bruh. He writes himself and he decided he liked the word lassie. But notice that he can sometimes string a whole sentance together perfectly normal. It's like that on purpose. He's hiding something, I'm sure of it. Who stands in the middle of the road all day long and just watches people. Suspicious.

2. Why is Varric always talking about tits and ass - he's a dude. 97% of their thought process comes from their dick. Real science numbers. Totally didn't make that up.

3. It doesn't make sense. How can he like her this much already? - You're seeing into Varric's confused brain right now. He doesn't know what's going on either. Sometimes it be like that.

4. I thought you weren't going to make Crystal some bad ass warrior chick? - I'm not. But it's also unrealistic to not be able to arm yourself somewhat in such a wild land. Varric's watching out, don't worry.

5. Why does he keep calling Bianca "Her"? - I think there's a lot of stuff that's going on in Varric's giant noggin. For him, the bow is a safe way to say the name. Keep her in his thoughts without really thinking of her. But thinking of her name when it applies to her the person makes him think of...well, her. Does that make sense? It's a mental health protection thing, because minds are curious and we all have strange quirks up there. Separating the two in his mind helps keep him sane.

ANYWAY, I hope you all enjoyed! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment! Even just a couple words. I need to know how I'm doing so I can improve future chapters. I can't wait to delve more into these two.

[farmhandler]

Spoken, Not Said

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Theseus/Asterius/Zagreus

Warnings: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Banter, Bickering, Theseus being Theseus, Slight spoilers            

CH: 2/?

WC: 5K~

Read on AO3

The multitude of reasons for why this is perhaps the foolhardiest thing Theseus has ever done in both his life and afterlife are made obvious the moment he exits his chambers to “face” his opponent in Elysium Stadium.

During their last battle, the daemon would find moments to speak with him, detailing a plan to aid in their escape from Elysium and find the Bull, Asterius. It is a basic order of events; that of which Theseus easily could have concocted in his sleep, no less! Were that he a horrible trickster, such as Zagreus, that is.

Zagreus stands on the opposite end of the stadium, his daemonic sword at his side once more. Theseus has felt its blows too many times to count, and even now he raises his chin, having no intention of making his victory an easy one.

“So you have returned again!” he calls boisterously. The crowds rise, cheering at the sound of his voice. Theseus grins wide with a practiced ease. “You really must enjoy being bested by me to have come so far so quickly. Well, by the power of the gods, we’ll see to it you remain yet in death!”

“Not even going to give me a chance to say hi?” Zagreus says, sounding bored. Truly, even though it may be within their shaky, agreed-upon truce, he is still but an uncouth, blatantly disrespectful creature. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve got to get to the surface by noon to share lunch with my mother, and I’ve no idea what time it is.”

Often his speech is constantly riddled with peculiar sentiments and senseless asides. Asterius had once remarked at how he could be humorous even not the worst of times. Ha! Theseus sees no humor in him.

“On your guard!” Theseus roars, wasting no more time.

For all his preparedness, and despite knowing the truth lurking behind their shared façade, Theseus isn’t able to maintain much of a façade in the face of all of Elysium watching him. He fights the daemon dashing about the hallowed grounds with everything he has, as he always does and always will, because he knows no other way. To lose is to fail, and to fail on purpose?

Even so, he is not the only one giving it his all. Zagreus wields his enormous sword as though it weighs nothing; he slams it against Theseus’ shield hard enough to rattle his core, and he is incredibly light on his feet. In a single instance, he is able to step away from him and appear behind, delivering onto him blow after blow until the blood pooling in Theseus’ mouth overflows.

Still, he cannot bring himself to yield. Asterius may be his most important and dearest friend in this undying life, but he is King; he is King Theseus of Elysium—

Suddenly, his internal monologue comes to a thundering halt. Theseus looks down in shock, finding a sword thrust straight through his chest, mere minutes after they began. His grip loosens, going slack, and his spear slips from his fingers.

When he wakes up, he is in his chambers again.

The fury he had felt just moments ago feels distant and faded. It will be minutes before it returns and he feels himself, as is to be expected. The river Lethe washes away their aches and pains, but so does it dull their senses—their very memories if they allow it.

Theseus takes a few moments to stare at the architecture above his bed, admiring the intricate greenery surrounding figures in combat, as he so often does after losing a battle.

Movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. Since he was here last, a few butterflies have sneaked into his chambers and flutter by his bedside, surrounding the half–eaten apple resting on the end table.

He sits up and slides to the edge of bed. There are several apples in a basket nearby, untouched thus far. He had gathered them himself to give to Asterius on their next win. Asterius is fond of the taste of a fresh apple, nearly as much as nectar when they happen upon it.

Something in his chest constricts, binding him to the spot until he can make himself stand and head for the door.

The daemon is standing outside his door when he steps outside. Theseus is immediately struck by the oddness of the situation.

By the gods, he thinks, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him before he notices his presence. Are we really to do this?

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Zagreus greets him cheerfully upon noticing. His sword is free of blood and ichor, as though it were never there in the first place. “I made it look like I was going on ahead, then I came back around and bothered a few shades until I found your chambers. Is there a reason your doors are so big? Is it a test of strength to see if you deserve to lie down and sleep or something?”

“You insult the great architects of Elysium!” Theseus yells, nearly as loud as when they are in the stadium. Zagreus winces, raising and lowering his hands in a gesture meant to imply he be quiet. Fool! As if he can contain him, as if he has any right to even stand within five feet of him, with his muscled arms and nimble fingers.

“Are you going to do that the whole time?” Zagreus bites, keeping his voice low. “And I’ll have you know I’m very familiar with those who’ve worked on this place. They’re not all they’re cracked up to be, trust me. And we should probably get out of here before one of your service shades or whatever comes to check on you.”

Theseus makes a sound of discontent. To hold a conversation like this with someone who offers little to no respect to those greater than him should not be well within these halls. His fist closes around air, aching for his spear.

I gave you respect, and you threw it in my face. How’s that for respect, King?

Theseus grits his teeth and turns to march back into his chambers for his spear and shield. Moving beyond the fields into the unknown realms is unthinkable, but having Asterius taken from him even more so.

“Don’t enter my chambers,” he tells Zagreus before he steps away, who has not moved an inch. Once his position is assured, he finds his weapons and returns, eyeing his unwelcome companion with obvious distaste.

Was he always slightly taller than Theseus? Had his height always escaped him, or is this another feeble attempt to gain one up on Theseus?

“You are pathetically short, for a god,” he says upon approach, without thinking. He adds immediately after, “So are your false claims thus far, though I’ve a mind not to believe a single word that comes from your lying lips!”

Zagreus looks at him then, and Theseus feels inexplicably exposed.

“Listen, Theseus. If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to try your best not to insult me every chance you get. I don’t like bullies and I’m not going to put up with it like Asterius will. Darkness knows why he does. He deserve so much better.”

Theseus’ grip tightens around his spear.

How is it that the daemon is able deflect everything Theseus says back at him, and much more painfully so? He is nothing; no, worse than nothing, and yet he would find ways to gnaw at Theseus’ insecurities.

Unbeknownst to his internal struggle, Zagreus carries on.

“We’re headed to Asphodel first. Though Tartarus is our resident torture realm, it‘s a little too close to the House. Asphodel is filled with magma and lava. He‘s got all that fur, so.” Zagreus shrugs. “If any place was going to cause Asterius the most suffering, it would be Asphodel.”

He continues to speak, but Theseus is barely listening, too consumed by his own thoughts. He opens his mouth to deliver a tirade on who exactly is putting up with whom, when the sounds of shades walking the path near his chambers echo around them. They are not far off; seconds within seeing the pair, and Theseus flounders for a moment, panic settling in.

If he is seen with Zagreus, it will truly spell the end.

“Come on!” Zagreus hisses at him. He gestures in the direction opposite to the approaching shades and then takes off without waiting to see if Theseus has followed. Theseus is then forced to really consider their foolhardy quest.

Is it worth risking his position? Is this truly worth risking everything he has worked so hard for his entire natural born life?

His mind unintentionally draws up the memory of Asterius shortly after he was promoted to the realm of Elysium. He had knelt on the ground in front of Theseus, gazing up at him with something akin to wonder. Even kneeling, he was frightfully tall.

“What have I done to deserve this chance, King Theseus?” he had asked.

Sometimes still Asterius would ask him that question, or allude to it, and Theseus’ heart would be plundered.

How could he not see?

Theseus steels himself with a breath and moves to follow the direction that Zagreus went.

“Gods, blood and darkness, gods, what am I doing? Why am I—?”

Zagreus lifts his head from where he’s worrying it between his palms when Theseus rounds the corner to the secluded spot. They are surrounded by lush greenery, obscuring other shades from peering in easily.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Zagreus says, sounding like he means the opposite. “Come on let’s just—follow me. We need to move quickly.”

For once, they are in agreement.

Zagreus leads him through tunnels and passageways long forgotten by most of the shades that wander the fields. Elysium is still recovering from his most recent thrashing, so the way is quiet and undisturbed. By the time they reach the passage, that is when reality begins to crash over him again.

Zagreus looks back at him. He looks nervous–frightened, even—casting him glances as if Theseus will turn around and pummel him with his spear. He would readily admit he is tempted, but his palms have become unreasonably sweaty despite the cool temperature of the realm.

“It’s just through here. Your pesky warriors won’t have come back just yet, so this is our best chance. I’m hoping the Hydra hasn’t reformed yet either.”

“Lernaean Hydra?” Theseus gasps. He has always been aware that it guards the passage to Elysium, but to know they are knowingly trespassing through its lair is another thing entirely!

“Know this, daemon—“

“Zagreus.”

“—If you are attempting to lure me into a trap, you will not succeed! Should you slay me, I will only return to my chambers, as healthy as I ever was! Nay, better than ever!”

“I know,” Zagreus drawls. “I’m risking a lot here, too, you know. If my father finds out I’m leading the King of Elysium on a rescue mission—“ he breaks off, then barks a laugh. “I’m not sure he’d believe it, if I’m being honest. I can’t quite believe it.”

“Your mind does seem remarkably unsound.”

The looks Zagreus shoots him is withering. He turns around, hefts his sword over his shoulder, and without another word stalks away towards the passage, disappearing past its glowing splendor.

Theseus hesitates, sweat pooling in every orifice. This is—this is blasphemy. The daemon Zagreus will lead him to ruin should he follow.

Then he thinks of Asterius, suffering from a torment unknown, and he lifts his chin, moving his feet until he passes through himself.

“Make no mistake, fiend!” Theseus calls the moment he catches sight of Zagreus. He’s standing at the center of a room with large pillars scattered about, staring at the lava as if he expects it will come alive. “I journey on this quest for Asterius and Asterius alone! Do not let my presence inflate your overimaginative ego.”

“Oh, blood and darkness, you don’t have sandals!” Zagreus cries when he’s close, ignoring his prior words completely.

“Sandals?”

“I didn’t even think about sandals.” He makes a motion as if to rip the hair from his head. “Look around us, King. I hope the shades of Elysium are fireproof. Or resistant.”

Theseus lifts his head and gazes at their surroundings. They are on an island—one of many —surrounded by lava and more islands. The molten liquid pools and drips over every orifice, and oh, the heat.

He no longer lives, nor breathes, but by whatever mechanism allows his body to continue with its existence has endowed him with the ability to sweat. The heat sinks into his skin quickly, and after a few minutes its oppressiveness threatens to steal his breath away.

“You look well,” he tells Zagreus. “It would suit your daemonic nature to find solace in this terrible heat, I am sure!”

Zagreus leans on his sword and regards Theseus. “I am Prince of the Underworld, you realize. If I can’t stand a little heat, I’d make a poor Prince. Besides, it’s not like I’m fireproof. Just fire resistant.”

He lifts one of his flaming feet into view and Theseus does not admire its structure, nor how the flames create a gradient much like a flower in full bloom.

He scoffs, casting his gaze about until it lands on a structure far off their current position. A coliseum, it looks like.

“Tell me, what lives on in that structure,” he demands, pointing.

Zagreus follows his finger and then nods. “That’s the coliseum. I’ve only been there once or twice; mostly I stick to the lava pools. It’s much faster. That’s the first place I think we should go. Giant pool of lava, no escape, etcetera. If Asterius is anywhere in Asphodel, he’ll be there.”

The coliseum is foreboding in size even without the lava cascading around it. Theseus walks along the island rock to find a better angle for viewing, and he hears Zagreus sigh.

“At least you’re not burning up on these rocks. Well” he pauses, and when Theseus looks at him, his eyes are glancing up and down his figure, taking in his sweaty appearance “no more than usual.”

His cheeks do not burn. “Your appreciation of me is noted. I, too, sometimes cannot help but marvel the way sweat gleams on these fine muscles.”

“Oh, for the love of Aphrodite—" Zagreus shakes his head and starts walking. Theseus has no choice but to follow.

That is not to say he is willing to stray behind like a lamb following its mother; he strides to Zagreus’ side, then even further, following whilst leading, as any King would do.

For most of the walk, there is silence. The Hydra has yet to reform, as have several of the souls Zagreus evidently dispatched prior to his trip through Elysium. Zagreus does not attempt to make conversation, and due to the heat and how carefully he must walk to avoid the hotter patches of magma infused rock, Theseus is quiet as well.

Eventually they reach a larger island that does contain a number of shades. Witches, Zagreus calls them. They wield dark magic that they send flying in their direction, but with Zagreus on the left and Theseus on the right, they are dealt with quickly.

“We’ll have to avoid the shades if we can,” Zagreus says. “We don’t want to risk any of them getting back to my father about all this.”

Theseus says nothing in reply, for once. His thoughts cling to the image of the wretched witches’ still dissipating images. Watching his spear fly through the gut of one of the witches made an odd unease settle over his spine. These shades may be wretches sent to live in this unpleasant place, but they are shades all the same. He is not their King, but he feels something tug at him to destroy them so readily.

For Asterius, he reminds himself firmly. For Asterius, I will stop at nothing.

After they have fully dissolved into nothing, an odd glowing object appears before Zagreus’ feet. His face lights up, and then he presses his palm to the surface of it, revealing the symbol of...of Ares.

“What is that?” Theseus demands, walking up to peer at it more closely. “What is the Boon of a god doing here? Were these witches able to somehow gain their favor?”

Instead of answering, Zagreus faces the Boon and says, “in the name of Hades! Olympus! I accept this message.”

The Boon glows brighter, and shortly after the voice of Ares booms in the cavernous space around them.

“Greetings, my death-inflicting kin. I see your fighting spirit hasn’t left you yet.”

Theseus watches in absolute bafflement as Zagreus is gifted a Boon of choice. He deliberates, whilst Theseus loses his mind.

“He has gifted you a Boon!” he belts, at length. “Ares, the god of war, gifting you—you—”

He flounders, a rare occurrence on its own, and Zagreus looks at him as though he is the one acting strange.

“They all have at some point or another. They want to help me reach the surface,” Zagreus tells him, as if it makes sense. “Though they don’t know I can’t survive up there for long.”

It makes no sense. The gods were generous enough to grant Theseus their favor, but only once he had proved himself a valiant and honorable warrior. He is the king of Elysium; he is deserving. This fiend; this wretch; this monster knows nothing. His supple flesh and his soft gaze know nothing.

I’m a god, in case you forgot.

“You are no god,” he says lowly. “In case you have forgotten, the reason Asterius is currently being tormented is due to your neglect!”

“Who have I been neglecting?” Zagreus replies, blinking in response to his sudden aggression.

“Your duty! Your honor! You act like no god I have ever known, traversing around the realms without a care for those you hurt in the process. Asterius—my dearest friend, my brother in arms—he is far more worthy than you!”

“Don’t act like you know me,” Zagreus says, his tone shifting from agreeable to threatening. “I feel bad about Asterius, but that’s my father’s doing. He doesn’t have to stand in my way, but he does. He doesn’t have to send you all after me, but he does.” Zagreus points a finger at him. “And anyway, you don’t know anything about my father, or me, or any of the other gods. Have you ever wondered why I’m trying to escape? Has it ever crossed your mind?”

“Ignorance swine, I think of you not! You are but to smear the filth trapped in recesses of my mind. Would that I could, I'd kill you where you stand!”

“Blood and darkness, I have never met someone so full of themselves in my life, and I lived surrounded by the worst shades mortals have to offer.” Zagreus’ fist curl at his side, and Theseus is suddenly aware of the slight glow of red coursing along his skin. His single wretched eye seems to glow even brighter under the dim haze of Asphodel. “I can’t believe that Asterius puts up with you! Even at your best, you’re just a self-righteous ass.”

“You dare bring Asterius into this! Have I not said you shan’t invoke his name?”

“I am helping you find him!” Zagreus snaps. “His name is going to come up!”

“Then try to restrain yourself! After all, he is missing because of you!”

“I am not my father!” Zagreus thunders. Theseus’ grip on his spear loosens as the world shifts, trembling underneath. Magma bubbles from open pockets in the ground. Zagreus is glowing with a dim, reddish light, and Theseus can feel Ares presence in the room, as though he is there.

Fear worms its way into Theseus’ chest. In that moment, gazing at Zagreus endowed with the gods’ favor, he is…

He is beautiful.

Then, mere moments after the display, Zagreus’ fierce expression softens into concern. He backs away from Theseus, concern transforming into guilt.

“I—I’m sorry. The magma, the...I didn’t…” Zagreus scratches the back of his neck, taking an aborted step towards Theseus. He raises his hand, then lowers it. “Ares’ Boon always keeps me a little more on edge. I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t trying to hurt you. You didn’t even say that I…” He shakes his head, sending petals from his laurels floating into the air. “Darkness, you really do know how to get to me. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Theseus is still brandishing his shield in front of him—an instinctive and defensive action—and behind it his arms are trembling.

He really is like no other god.

“So you claim,” Theseus says. The sensation in his chest has formed into a hard knot; he will not name it guilt. “In this instance, I forgive you.”

The silence thereon after is distinctly uncomfortable. At length Zagreus sighs and motions for Theseus to follow him up the path towards the magma-drenched coliseum.

“Let’s just go. The sooner we find Asterius, the better.”

“Fine by me!”

Theseus slams his spear into the ground and then they’re off.

On the way, more shades rise to fight them. And on occasion, a Boon will be made available for Zagreus to take. There is always a message attached, and Theseus listens as each and every god and goddess expresses gratitude or interest in Zagreus’ well-being.

It’s nothing like he expected. In the face of the mounting evidence contrary to what he’s always believed, Theseus doesn’t know what to think.

Zagreus will sometimes look at him while he absorbs the Boon’s power, the expression on his face unreadable. Nothing about him changes physically, but Theseus can sense the difference now that he is so close. He feels like a fool for not noticing it before; for thinking that had somehow cheated his way into being granted their Boons.

Why? he wants to ask. Why do the gods help you?

Because they find me more worthy than you. Is that what you’re afraid to hear? that traitorous voice answers.

He angrily wipes sweat from his brow and charges ahead, past Zagreus and up the ramp leading to the coliseum.

Once they enter the coliseum grounds, Theseus understands why Zagreus claimed he could not do it on his own. Since embarking on their journey, he had his doubts—so far, they had met little resistance—but in seeing the enemies awaiting them, he is more convinced.

“That is…a lot of witches,” Zagreus says, peering around one of the pillars. From their position, they can’t see much of the magma pool, and Theseus is aching to get a better view and spot Asterius there. “Hypnos mentioned the witches were gathering their covens somewhere, but I didn’t realize it would be here.”

“Hmph.” Theseus squeezes past him and peers around the same doorway. “I can see now why you were so desperate for my aid.”

Zagreus shoot him a look. “Desperate is not the way I would put it.”

“Stand aside, daemon. I’ll vanquish these foes posthaste!”

“Would you please stop calling me that?“ Zagreus grumbles. He lifts his sword and starts inching towards the doorway, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He’s never still for long, Theseus has noticed. Always moving, always eager to face the next enemy. Quite the opposite of Asterius, who stays calm and collected even in the face of certain death. “I’ve dealt with these before. Stay far away, and keep your shield up!”

His advice soon proves to be sound. Zagreus dashes forward, sprinting with that same swiftness that Theseus in many instances has found dizzying. He hops from molten rock to molten rock, avoiding lava while slicing through the dark magic their enemies form and toss their way. Though Theseus has been forced with time to admit that Zagreus is an opponent to be feared, still he can’t take them all, and several pockets dark magic surge past him and bounce off the pillars towards Theseus.

His shield stands firm, as does he. When he isn’t strategically crouched behind its girth, he tosses his spear at witch after wretched witch. Several times Zagreus bears the full brunt of the witches’ magic, and they burn him just as surely as they would a mortal. Zagreus however, is the son of a god, so he keeps going, until they have managed to work their way through the worst of it.

There are just so many. It’s difficult for Theseus to find openings when there magic constantly cascades in his direction, nd Zagreus can’t move in close on the largest grouping of witches due to the enormous lava pool blocking his way. Were he with the Bull—

The thought stalls in his mind.

Such strategies are reserved for Asterius, he thinks firmly. Asterius may weigh more than two of him combined, but when they work together, tossing him towards Zagreus—or any enemy for that matter, is too easy.

And yet.

Asterius isn’t here, so you’ll have to make do with me. You want to die here and pretend that none of this ever happened, or do you want to win?

His fist tightens around his spear.

What’ll it be, King?

Theseus lowers his shield to look at their surroundings. Zagreus’ shoulders are scorched, and his chest is heaving as he fights nearly single-handedly at this point.

For Asterius, he thinks.

“Fiend!” he bellows, but Zagreus does not turn.

“Daemon!” he tries, but all that Zagreus does is crouch and burst forward, slicing through another swathe of magic. His shoulder muscles gleam with sweat—evidence of his efforts.

Swallowing down a curse, Theseus tries again. “Zagreus! To me!”

Zagreus’ entire body jolts. He turns to face him, eyes wide, but there isn’t time to marvel at his generosity. Once he recovers, he dashes to Theseus, and then, as he approached in range, Theseus calls out again:

“Dash into my shield! I shall propel you to the other side where the witches are!”

For a moment Zagreus expresses confusion, then his expression hardens with fierce determination. He speeds up, as fast as Theseus has ever seen him, and when the pounding of his feet is close, Theseus heaves his body forward at the same moment that Zagreus lands on his angled shield.

He is heavy; it is a wonder that Asterius is able to toss Theseus across the stadium as easily as he does. And truthfully, this is the strategy that he and Asterius had planned to employ later. He’s not certain he’s strong enough on his own.

But he will do it. He will not fail.

Theseus heaves him with a roar, hefting his shoulder against the weight of Zagreus pushing into him in preparing his own jump, and when he is released, he lifts his head over his shield so he can watch Zagreus sail across the lake of lava and land at the edge of the other island.

Theseus bursts into motion, getting as close as he dares while they prepare their next round of magics. As their attacks grow focused, he stabs as many with his spears as he can, taking out the ones that aim for Zagreus while he is otherwise occupied.

Several long minutes pass, and then finally, finally, they achieve their goal and vanquish them all.

“Haha! Yes!” Theseus booms, dropping his shield. He raises his fist triumphantly, and without a second thought he sets his shield into the lava and sends it towards Zagreus so he can make use of it as a makeshift boat.

This is what it is like to feel alive again. Surrounded by danger, circumventing certain death to achieve a goal and prove his merit—he can feel his blood burning in triumph.

Zagreus returns to him grinning and bouncing on his feet; hardly the picture he should be covered in burns and dust from their magic. He walks up to Theseus and Theseus to him, and together they clasp their right hands, as brothers in battle would.

“That was amazing!” Zagreus says. Both of his eyes burn into Theseus. The green one is a beautiful, shining emerald, but the other—

Realizing just who he‘s embracing, Theseus scrambles backward, still out of breath and sweating fiercely.

“You should not forget why it is we are here!” he says loud enough to drown out the pounding in his chest. “Whilst my skill is impressive, don’t let it get to your head.”

“Of course not,” Zagreus says. He cocks his head to one side and regards Theseus, still smiling a joyous, disarming smile. “I wouldn’t dare, King.”

There is an odd fondness in the way he says his title. “See that you don’t,” Theseus replies, relieved his voice remains even, since his heart refuses to.

He ignores the fluttering in his chest and moves to pick up his shield, only to pause once he realizes it still glows from the lava’s heat.

“I can hold onto that for a while,” Zagreus says behind him. “If you’d like.”

Theseus stares down at his shield, hands on his hips.

“I would never leave my precious shield in your hands, fiend,” he says, but it lacks the heat usually reserved for Zagreus. “Since we are already in a rush to find Asterius, I’ll overlook it this time.”

With that settled, he grabs his spear and glances around.

“Now: where is he?”

Zagreus sighs and reaches down to pick up Theseus’ shield. Though it still glows from the heat, he merely adjusts the way the handle rest in his hands.

“I thought he might be in the center of all that lava—father has punished a few people by leaving them there—but maybe he’s… Somewhere else in here.” Zagreus bounces from foot to foot, revving himself up. “I’m going to take a look around the more lava-ridden bits. You circle the outer ring and I’ll meet you up top.”

“Make it quick,” Theseus says. Zagreus nods, distracted, and hefts the shield over his shoulder. Then he jogs in the opposite direction, leaving Theseus to his own devices.

They search high and low, but due to the coliseum’s open passageways, it’s obvious very quickly that Asterius is not being housed there. There are several shades living in the coliseum, minding themselves, but when Theseus probes them for information, they have nothing to offer.

The hope that had been slowly flitting inside him is quickly dashed. He makes his way to the top of the coliseum, feeling like a fool, and when he arrives, Zagreus is already there. He appears pensive, and at the sound of Theseus approaching, he turns to face him.

“Well, it looks like he’s not here. There are few more places in Asphodel I’d like to try, but if he’s not there…” Zagreus trails off uncertainly.

“You brought me to the sorry place just inform me that Asterius is not here?” Theseus places his hands on his hips. “You claimed you knew, yet you’ve dragged me to this place and not a scrap of him to show for it! I should have expected as much.”

“I said I know where he might be. There’s more to Asphodel than this coliseum, Theseus.” Zagreus frowns. “We have a few more places to check.”

He doesn’t say what he expects to happen in the event that Asterius is not in Asphodel and they must confront other realms. Theseus also doesn’t want to consider its implications, so instead they agree to continue their search. After all, what choice does he have? He has set in motion events that he cannot back away from. Even though his body aches and he is covered in sweat in a way he hasn’t been since he was alive, he will not falter.

He will find Asterius, and they will go on from there.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Taking our sweet time (seriously, there's no need to hurry)

Whenever life gets too much to handle it should be socially acceptable to say fuck it and peace out for a while. I get that constant procrastination isn't good but sometimes you really need to step back and take a goddamn break.

You don't have to take on the world all at once - in fact you don't have to do anything at all just to feel worthy of something. It's the little things that matter and your worth shouldn't be measured solely by your achievements. There's nothing wrong with being average - or even below that - what should matter is that you're happy and doing what you like.

At least that's what I'm hoping to get across to Pai and her adventuring companions. From burnout to things not going as planned due to factors out of everyone's control, they are definitely in need of a break.

Pai's stepping into the world of perilous adventuring after running across Connie, a wanderer who's made a name for themselves in Bonsai Harbor. Connie's from another world, having been separated from their sibling. Along the way, they saved Pai from being eaten by a slime crystal monster, so now Pai feels indebted to them. They haven't known each other for too long but they act like old, playfully bickering buds.

While trying to find their footing, Pai suggested seeking help from the Knights of Windwail and the Adventurer's Guild. Then they got wrapped up in adventuring, world quests, and earned the status of honorary knights. Along the way they came across other adventurers from the Knights and the Guild, forming their own adventure team.

Amber was the first friend Connie and Pai made at Bonsai Harbor. She was the one who taught Connie how to use a wind glider as well as the ins and outs of the city. As an outrider of Windwail and master pyro archer with ties to the Adventurer's Guild, she got them covered. Pai says that they're lucky they ran into Amber as she knows a lot about pretty much everything Bonsai Harbor. It's fun listening to her talk about her home, the other team members, and their latest adventures - she's basically the group's spokesperson.

The second friend they met is also a knight, Captain Lucien, also known as Luci to friends and elders. He's a well known swordfighter with piercing cryo powers that can freeze anything for a short time. Luci was a big help for Connie and Pai when they got cornered by fireball slimes. In return, the duo offered to help him retrieve a stolen katana, which resulted in them discovering other lost weapons and earned the trust and respect of the head of the Windwail Knights.

Noelle and Bennett were next to join the gang of adventurers, coming to them at the right time by chance. Connie, Pai, Amber, and Luci were ambushed on the outskirts of the city while on an investigation when their reinforcements came to the rescue.

Pai summoned Noelle by accident as she happened to be nearby when things were going south. Noelle is who they call a maid without a master - meaning she does things like cleaning, cooking, and running errands for pretty much anyone who calls for her. Rumor has it that one can easily summon Noelle just by calling out her name to the wind, which is what Pai did. As a fighter, Noelle can summon a geo shield that provides healing powers when activated, plus she's got a badass looking claymore sword that's not only great for fighting off enemies, but also for mining and destroying obstacles.

Bennett also happened to be nearby when the gang was attacked. He's an adventurer with pyro powers who hasn't had too much luck in recruiting members for his group. He's a good fighter, but for some reason things never really work out in his favor, so that's why no one seeks him out. It's a shame because he's a sweet and likable guy but his bad luck overshadows the good. Up until meeting Connie and Pai, he was considering giving up as an adventurer because he wasn't getting anywhere. Then he heard Pai screaming for help and came running along.

Since Noelle and Bennett didn't have anything better to do, they decided to tag along. Noelle still gets summoned once in a while, mainly for menial tasks that don't take too much out of her day. Of course, with the gang being all the way over here at the camp, they're all on vacation from their jobs - most for the first time in years, if ever.

It's a good thing Pai dragged them out here because they all deserve a vacation. And not only that, they deserve regular vacations - time where they can breathe and do nothing without feeling guilty. Given what they've all done over the past several weeks, it's no wonder they're feeling burnt out.

After saving the city and earning the status of honorary knights, Connie and Pai set out to explore the nearby city of Starcatcher. Before heading off, they gained another member - Seraphina the idol of the Windwail Church. She's got hydro powers and the ability to heal. She was the one who helped Connie sneak into the cathedral basement to retrieve a cursed artifact and came to the rescue in the nick of time by healing the gang during a showdown with a monster terrorizing the city.

At Starcatcher, the gang met up with Xingqiu and Xiang. Connie and Pai had met Xiang earlier when she was visiting the harbor and helped her gather ingredients for a cooking contest. Connie was hoping to run into Xiang again in the near future so as soon as they arrived at the city, they went looking for her. Apparently they just missed her as she was out on another culinary adventure.

Then Connie and the others were caught up in commissions there, getting familiar with the city. While searching for a rare book, they met Xingqiu, a descendant of a once prosperous family who helped the gang get through the red tape for intel. He's a master swordfighter with hydro powers that can form powerful whirlpools. Pai and Luci were a bit skeptical of him as he seemed to pop in and out whenever he wanted without explaining, but in the end he earned their trust.

Xiang finally met up with the gang not too long after they finished a mission involving finding jade fragments in the ruins. She joined just in time to help take down a bunch of ruin guards, except that didn't go so well. The gang barely made it out alive before having to retreat and Sera and Noelle's healing powers can only help so much. So they decided to put that off and focus on other missions.

But then the quests started to pile up as more of them were beyond their scope. According to Luci, all of them are capable fighters - on their own. As a team, their biggest problem is that they're too slow, especially when it comes to fighting large monsters like ruin guards. The problem lies with efficiency - the team lacks coordination. That, along with the group not being the most prepared or equipped - the latter is something they're trying to fix - is what's dragging the team down.

Though, to be fair, no one really knows what they're doing. After all, Pai and Connie met by chance and their team just kinda fell together. We don't know if we're getting any closer to helping Connie reunite with their family, which is the main reason why they're going on all these missions. As for the others, they're just there for the ride, not knowing exactly what they're doing either, but are more than happy to help when needed.

I have to say, I'm flattered that Pai decided to take Connie and the others all the way here. I don't know where Bonsai and Starcatcher are other than really, really far out there. Pai doesn't really come out here much - I think she only comes to see Jamie, so I'm guessing that's how she knows about the camp. I also heard it's not easy to travel from where's she's from as they're pretty much like different dimensions, making it even more impressive.

So far, I think the break's been helping out a lot. It's been nice getting to know the others and just hanging out with them. Again, it's kinda sad that most of them had never taken a vacation before, so the idea of leisure took some getting used to. Aside from introductions, we mostly steered away from talking about quests and missions.

Noelle, of course, enjoys running errands. She likes collecting fruit, fish, and bugs, and getting to know the campers. Noelle kinda reminds me of my mom as she finds doing things like cleaning relaxing. It's not surprising that she likes speed cleaning videos as they can be satisfying to watch. I wouldn't mind watching videos with Noelle sweeping the cabin or scrubbing the counters - she makes those tasks look fun!

Amber's into hiking and climbing into high places where she can jump off and glide. She's teaching me and Daisy Jane how to glide and it's a bit terrifying, though I'm slowly getting the hang of it. I think that's the closest I'll ever get to flying!

Now that she has a lot of free time on her hands, Amber wants to make custom gliders for the team - and for me, Daisy Jane, and Isabelle as well. They look hard to make, so the fact that they can be made by hand is impressive. All of Amber's gliders are handmade and it takes a special skill to not only make a glider that looks pretty but also functional. She used to take orders for custom made gliders before things got too busy so she's glad to be getting back into it. I can't wait to see how they turn out!

Seraphina has been getting into impromptu jam sessions with the campers, putting on a little concert every night so far. She's got a lovely voice with a pure sweetness I find endearing. Being out here at the camp has helped her get back into singing so she hopes the nightly concerts will keep her going. Her love for poetry shows through her lyrics as she has a way with words and evoking emotions through imagery.

She says the camp kinda reminds her of Bonsai Harbor, particularly the meadows, which probably explains why she's inspired to sing again. As much as she enjoys adventuring, she misses her home a lot. Still, Seraphina knew what she was signing up for when she wanted to tag along with Connie and Pai. While her roots are in Bonsai Harbor, she wanted to take the opportunity to explore the world around her. If it wasn't for Connie and Pai, who knows when she'll get another chance to do so?

Luci, as expected, took some adjusting to the whole idea of leisure. He's not what they consider the workaholic type - in fact, he's pretty lax - but he's the kind of person who's mind is usually on work mode. He's task oriented, always thinking about getting stuff done, preferably without too much time and effort. It's understandable that he wants the team to be in tip top shape by practicing their fighting skills and coordinating their efforts, but it's not healthy to be constantly focusing on that. After all, the main reason why they're all here is to get their minds off that.

While there will be fighting practices eventually, for now it's best to take it easy. According to the others, Luci's not one to stress out over things, so the fact that he is starting to get a little bit stressed is a warning sign. He was a bit restless and fidgety at first, but he's in a completely unfamiliar place and not doing any adventuring or knight stuff for the first time ever so it's understandable. In a way it kinda feels like post grad life when you're pretty much done with school forever and now you don't know what to do with yourself.

Like Noelle, Luci's been running errands and hanging with the campers. He's been trying a bit of everything - hiking, fishing, bug catching, gardening, building furniture - he's a jack of all trades. So far, he's been enjoying all these activities, especially crafting stuff with Reese and Cyrus. In fact, when he got a look at Daisy Jane's gyroid designs, he wanted to join in on the fun too!

Looks like the adventure team's gonna be back at the camp for a gyroid event (or more) as Noelle, Amber, Xiang, and Seraphina want to design stuff as well. So there's potential for many more visits, which will be amazing!

Xiang's been cooking up a storm - figuratively for the most part. Thankfully, since it's outdoors, damage was minimal - though it's fire so while it wasn't that bad, the potential for disaster was high. Thankfully Seraphina and Xingqiu quickly put out the fires so crisis averted.

She's the kind of chef who likes experimenting in the kitchen, coming up with the most unusual recipes. Apparently the slime creatures they fight off leave essences that can be edible, so she keeps vials of them. Fire ones are spicy, wind ones have a dry, bitter flavor, icy ones are kinda minty with a hint of honey, water ones are umami - it's interesting to learn about. Other unusual ingredients Xiang has on hand are ground up boar horns, jade sparkledust, snowflake ash, and clearfish scales.

Don't let the unusual ingredients fool you - most of her food is not only edible, but also delicious. There's a reason why the gang isn't worried about starving if stranded in the middle of nowhere. Xiang can even make dirt edible - something which she's trying to do but hasn't figured out yet.

Xingqiu has taken an interest in gardening, which is perfect because I have been once again neglecting my garden. Maybe neglecting is a strong word but lately, other than flower events, I haven't been planting much. I'm trying to keep up with that but it's so much effort, especially trying to cross-pollinate for rare flowers. Xingqiu considers himself a novice when it comes to planting flowers but he's already got much better luck than me with getting rare seeds. I think his water powers have something to do with the blooms coming out more vibrant and full than usual.

He and Noelle have also been into taking interior decor classes with Lotte at the Happy Room Academy. Speaking of that, I've kinda fallen behind on those classes too. Sunny's rank is Legend while I've been lingering at Master - I didn't even know there was a Legend rank until Sunny told me.

Well, just because I run the camp doesn't mean I can do everything. I've tried, but as the camp grew, I had to learn how to prioritize. While I can put in some time to gardening and catching up with Happy Room Academy classes, they're not something I really want to do. As for gardening, I kinda have a love-hate thing so tending to that feels more like a chore than a fun activity. I'm not the best at gardening and I'm okay with that.

As for Connie, they've been working nonstop since meeting Pai. They've kinda fallen into the leader role by default and as a result has been under a lot of pressure. They mentioned feeling a bit guilty, like being miscast in a role or something. There's also the fact that Connie pretty much started from the ground up, so they worked extra hard to earn everyone's respect as well as be able to fight in combat on the same level as the others. They've done so much in such a short time, Pai was right in trying to get them to slow down.

Like Luci said, they're all capable fighters, but as a team they still have a lot to learn. To put it bluntly, compared to other adventurers in terms of combat and strategy, they're pretty average. All of them admit they're a bit of a mess - then again, who isn't? As much as they have accomplished together, there's always a voice in the back of their minds questioning whether they could've done better. And it's not just themselves, it's also the societal pressure to not only do well, but to exceed and be the best. While that tries to be a motivating message, it does more harm than good.

That brings me back to my main point - you don't have to be exceptional at what you do. It's a message I'm still learning myself, especially since I grew up in a culture where I'm told that I'm not trying hard enough if I'm not constantly pushing my limits. Despite what society wants you to think, it's okay to be average, to just be.

After all, none of them chose to adventure for status and prestige - they're pretty much here because they seek excitement and want to help Connie. As for Connie, they never expected to become somewhat a hero in Bonsai Harbor and Starcatcher, they just wanted to help others. So what if they stumble more than fly? Just because all of them can't take down a massive monster doesn't make them less capable as adventurers - it just means combat isn't one of their strong suits yet - and that's okay. After all, they're still getting to know each other and such.

For now, we're all just gonna take our sweet time just chilling out. Self-care's important, but sometimes we get so caught up in everything else that we put ourselves last.

[kaiju-z]

Seon Adventures, Episode 37: The Client

When last we left off, Akar’Niel showed himself before the adventuring party, the Cultbusters for the 2nd time in two weeks time, after their group finished the most important part of their dungeon delving quest within the Tomb of the Fallen King.

With his re-introducing words of “Did you miss me?”, Akar’Niel takes the stage.

And there he was, leaning on a pillar.

Face to face again, this time before rest would overtake them, Akar’Niel makes himself known to the party. The Half-Elven man is met with a mix of intrigue from Jun and Luck, distaste from Mournimar and Belli and a careful study by Malak.

Morgan surely would be by his partner’s side due to the surprise appearance, while Arryn? Arryn was taking a well needed rest, oblivious to the conversation that was transpiring.

With the semi-hostile atmosphere coming from the party, Akar’Niel reveals to the lot of them that he is the client, who requested the fetching of Ena, currently in Luck’s possession.

From the initial interrogation, it’s hard to tell much about his intentions with the blade, aside from keeping it gathering dust in the tomb, or a museum to just be gawked at. However - Belli and Mournimar gather that he’s asking intently about the sword, but based on his physique, there’s a reason he’s not trying to wrestle it off. And Jun? 

Jun knows he lied and knows who River is. There’s an eyebrow twitch, when Luck asked why it mattered to him. He’s very emotionally invested in this artifact.

Furthemore, he tells the party he is of the Circle of Shaksban, the exclusionary spellcaster guild in Crystalgate. To try and gain the party’s trust, Akar’Niel offers himself to be placed under a Zone of Truth spell and willfully fail his save.

Belli casts said spell and a question and answer series begins, wherein he re-affirms he is who he is and what his intentions for the sword are. To hand it to the Darksbane Army for use, specifically, as they are considered by many, in different tones, as “the noble sort”.

During the talk, while Belli slips up and mentions that there’s only one human in their party, despite Luck wearing his disguise, Jun takes note of something about Akar’Niel.  She can see his eyes have a bit of a yellow flicker that moves like a vine in the wind. Furthemore, There’s almost like a faint breeze going through his hair, despite there being no wind?

The conversation carries on for about as long as the Zone of Truth permits, with an air of tension being raised from a half-suspicious and half-amicable side of the party. And Ena herself speaks to Luck, when he asks her what her take is on this arrangement.

Ena finds the party’s client a smug man, but is indifferent in who wields her, as long as blood can be shed. A bit unnerving, if honest answer from the weapon of a late king.

A deal ends up being struck, where the party agree to return Ena themselves, rather than hand it over at this moment to Akar’Niel. And that whenst he checks on the group the sound of wind chimes will follow.

With his departure, the six go to sleep, taking a long rest.

And in the morning? Luctan brings out the Dragon Skull for Malak to question. After debating what the questions should be...

Malak casts Speak With Dead. And for flavor and more amicable conversing, he asks in Draconic:

- 1. ”What were the names of you and the other dragon that attacked?”- “I’m Izyr. Lord of the Sands. My companion is Zamberrut , the Barbarian.”

- 2.“What destroyed the dwarves and dragonborn?” – “A magic not even I know.”

- 3. “Do you know who cast it?” – “The wizards. The magic users, who enforced my brother and I.”

- 4. “Do you know any of their names or locations?””I don’t know their names. They gave us fake ones.”

- 5. “What were the names they gave you?” – “We met with a man, who called himself Nehren and a woman, who called herself Seriza.”

Curious.

Very curious. And requiring further questioning.

Malak would ask again, after sharing his findings with the party.

- 1. “What did they use to compel you and the other dragon?” – “The same thing it always is. A fuck ton of cash.” They were bribed!

- 2. “What did the people that compelled you look like?” – “Well, the tiny one had a weird face, gray hair. Very old. And the woman, a heavier set woman. Human?!”

- 3. “Where did you first meet them? At the mountains, a little bit north of here. Right near the border.”

- 4. “Were they wearing any identifying marks? Jewelry, anything. Special cloaks.”- “No? I don’t think they did. This was like five years ago, man. One of them had this three headed dragon guy, which I found weird.”

- 5. “Did he have 3 heads or a symbol with 3 heads?”- “A symbol.”

Interesting info. They were hired. But it wasn’t clear if it was the work of the council. But one of them was a Fornas worshippers, the little graying man. A 3 headed Dragon symbol meant just that.

Why though? Why would a Fornas worshiper do this sort of cruelty?!

The party once again agree to proceed to Guan.

And so begin the days of travel once again.

On the first day, they go north and come across what one can tell are the remains of a town, just based on the slight shapes. There are visible peaks of what was once the town of Hertis. The travelers could hear faint whistling as they’d pass through. A jaunty little tune.

How jaunty? Jaunty enough that it slaps!

Following around a corner of the remains of a building, the group finds themselves in front of a lone tent. A campsite. This here seems to be a homemade farm with tomato plants in buckets. And the whistling is coming from inside the tent.

As though we are heard, the tune carries on with it’s performer stepping out to see their guests. And it is a female Kenku, 3ft tall and carrying firewood in her arms.

Most of them hadn’t seen one since the tournament, from the team of rogues, but as she speaks in a variety of intriguing voices, Luck and Belli remember hearing of this particularity of the Kenku before. They were cursed to not speak in their own voices, so they learned to mimic others’.

“Well hi!” Zooter would say in one voice. (which we later learned OOC was of the gril from session 3 or 4, who flirted with Belli).

From what the group can gather, Zooter, as she introduces herself, is a lil’ survivor, making a life out here for themselves.

The Cultbusters and the lone citizen, Zooter exchange pleasantries and foods. With the party giving her dried meats for a potato, much to her delight. To a point where she even states that if they ever need a safe spot to rest the night, she will offer them one.

(Seriously, Zooter has such a cool mix of voices. Scorpion among them.)

Surprisingly, from the corner of their eyes, Luck, Belli and Mournimar can see the inside of the tent. What the surprising thing is the small shrine to Ebriosus, which eventually also comes to Jun’s knowledge.

And she reaches into her wares, pulling out tens of platinum coins, which she hands Zooter and the two bond over their connection through Her.

Excited, Mournimar buys of the plant that would grow into the intoxicant “Steam Root” and through some big brain thinking, decides to plant it in the pot Malak bought for him.

(And many weed jokes were had.)

“You know? I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Zooter would say to Jun in another familiar voice, which she herself would specifically and only her recognize.

Later down the line, the group would carry on with their journey, parting ways with Zooter, the friendship made that day cherished forever.

And some good progress is made in travel.

On day 2, nothing really happens. If there’s any nasty shit in the desert, they see and avoid it. But that night, as they settle down, take their usual watches and the like, Jun has a dream to herself.

Day 3. That evening comes to a close and on the next day it’s very open dunes. They travel on more rocky/mountainous terrain. Very hilly. (And they are alive with the sound of music). Their awareness of our surroundings is good enough to where we’re safe. They sleep and nothing happens.

Day 4, the sand is less and the rock is more. Still wasteland, still no water They come across small streams at least once a day.

On the evening of the 5th day, Malak has a specific dream as well.

On day 6... They climb to the top of a little canyon that’s going on. Because they’re higher up, there’s no risk of danger. They get a feeling that for the next few days they’ll be pretty safe.

The 7th day comes and goes and on the 8th, Luctan has a dream. A promissing dream.

Then comes  Day 8.  Smooth as fuck.

Day 9.  They march and march on through and Arryn informs his travelmates that at this point today? They’ve been in Guan for a few days. He didn’t want to mention anything, ‘cause he didn’t want to jynx the group when they passed the border on day 6.

On day 9  the travelers come across to a barely a settlement. A few tents. Some lizard folk, the occasional kobold too. No farms, but there are caravans. We can tell they’ve been there for a while. On the outside, there is one Lizardfolk, more beefy than the rest.  And he is digging a hole. Diggy-diggy-hole.

He welcomes the party and proclaims that they are coming through in a good weather season. “Isn’t it lovely?“ Sand storms and humidity. Yep.  It’s been wild.

He introduces himself as  Eknam, the town burrier. So essentially, he is the undertaker of this settlement. Low on town people, but he’s optimistic that things are turning around. One of their ladies is swollen. So, it might be a big clutch!

They lost their town location, but what’s left of them, they’re called the Gromlets.  Eknam’s idea was Bog Creatures, but they have no bog.

They’re trying to find a place that’ll support them and the water supply isn’t tainted?! Aside from the side effects, there’s the whole limbs dropping off if you drink water 2 years in a row?!  Due to their resistances, it takes longer for the Lizardfolk to be affected, but for others? Much-much quicker.

Malak offers help and eventually clears the water for several days with Purify Food and Drink, while speaking to the settlers in draconic: “Hello, I’m the water technician. I’m here to clean your pipes.”

Greatful, Eknam welcomes the lot of them to Guan.

Eknam notes, upon us mentioning where they’re headed, that they’re going in the right direction of the capitol. Only have to go east and if they don’t get to it, they’d go north.

After some more directions, regarding going through the canyons, Eknam mentions that if the party bring them anything interesting they’d enjoy, they’d welcome the Cultbusters into the family.

While the directions are given,  Jun shifts into a lizard folk and searches for the pregnant lady, whom she finds in an open tent, resting comfortably, big and next to an egg that had recently been laid by her.  Bless her.

Jun congratulates her, before going off to search for the strongest camp person. Who would be Eknam in this case. The expecting mom’s a bit confused about the congratulations, but is grateful.

It is then that Jun talks with Eknam.

She asks him to keep her safe and sound from any harm. Eknam would ease her concern for what could be by stating how she is their highest priority. Always watched. Noting how every settler in the area kept a close eye on her tent.

“She is always our priority.”

Before the party leave, they give them some stuff to help them along with the developement of their settlement. Clothes and the like.

With goodbyes being made, the party would carry on to the next leg of the journey.

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