#interaction / lia ferris.

[yllowpages]

It's looking bleak, isn't it? From where she's sitting at least. She can see all the lights in the windows, the plants people keep on their fire escapes right outside their windows, the things they're watching on TV ( if they're close enough ) ... her future crumbling into a million tiny pieces. Lia sighs and drops her forehead onto her knees, which are pulled into her chest on the lounging lawn chair she's sitting on ( she and Josie dragged these up to the roof a while back ) . Speaking of ... Josie went back inside a little bit ago — so it's just the two of them left up here.

One hand pulls at a loose thread on the hem of her sweats while she closes her eyes and tries to breathe. ( How do you even do that after learning what she learned today, though? ) She just can't stop thinking about it : somehow, for a whole year, her work was out there ... coming to life ; now people are going to see it off the page, in motion — and she had no idea it was happening. Lia audibly groans. She hates thinking about this but it's the only thing in her head right now. ( At least she hasn't cried in a few hours. ) She lifts her face up just to settle her chin on her knees instead.

Lia turns her phone over where it's sitting, dangerously close to slipping between the cracks in the lawn chair, and she checks the time. ( God, he's ... been here for hours now. ) She settles her cheek onto her knee so she can look over at Brock in the neighboring seat : ❝ I should probably, um ... head inside. You know ... sleep this off or ... whatever. ❞ But she sounds so unsure of herself, and lost ; she's not even really looking at him anymore, just staring off into space. Obviously, he seems to notice this, so he asks something to the effect of ' you sure? ' Of course, Lia nods immediately, still not making eye-contact. She insists, ❝ Yeah, it's — late. And it's cold, actually, so ... ❞ She bites her lip, her brows coming together.

❝ Do you want my jacket? ❞

It feels like the question is in code, like there's a double meaning there. It makes sense, in its own way. ( Maybe ... his way of asking ' do you want me to stay? ' ) It gets her to look directly at him, her head lifting off her knees and her face softening from the inner turmoil it was twisted into a second before. For a second, she doesn't know how to fully respond and just sort of looks at him with a warmed gaze. Then she just gives a small nod and a slight smile. ( No, she doesn't know that she wants to be alone yet. ) Lia avoids eye-contact when Brock stands and really does take his jacket off to drape it over her shoulders. She smiles again and he smiles back ; and the whole moment is quiet and nice ... Then : ❝ Oh, but — are you gonna get cold? ❞

@decimatlas / brock emerson.

[decimatlas]

@yllowpages​ gets a starter for Lia ! 

❛ ... I could bake her brownies and put laxatives in them. ❜

[htsdfferent]

“that’s how my little mind gets fed.” ( to chelsea from lia bc the girlies must meet )

@yllowpages !

her fingers stop their movement, as she glances up towards lia. chelsea adjusts the nail polish brush upwards, as she leans forward. she rests her arm softly against lia’s pajama clad knees. “you know, i’m the exact same.” a smile slips on her lips, as she returns to her previous position. her focus back on lia toenails, being careful to keep them perfect.

[pixiesfz]

this isnt really a request with an idea but please more jessie 😭🙏

Killing two birds with one stone I am here, I got a request for a jersey swap fic so here we go!

jersey swap? j.f

plot: you and Jessie have always had on field tension but one game when you ask to swap jerseys, she finally makes a move.

warning: smut, obviously I like writing a dom Jessie 🤫. Let’s pretend Sam wasn’t injured for the Canada vs australia match, bi-sexual reader! (Taking inspo from this one tik tok I saw about Lia Walti which made me cackle)

Some matches were more interesting than others you had realised in your second year in of playing at arsenal wether it was against Chelsea or you were playing with the Matilda’s for your national teams.

Nothing had changed within the games except for the fans, since the World Cup people started to know your name and your whole life story but what they loved most of all was seeing you on the pitch with Jessie.

Wether it was Chelsea vs Arsenal or Australia bs Canada the fans loved watching your interactions and your team mates did to.

It was your Australian captain who always whispered jokes into your ear that took the most pleasure out of the two of you.

“I love Canada” you admitted as your team sat on the ferry “why it’s cold” Hayley shivered from behind you “but it’s just so cozy” you smiled as you cuddled into yourself.

“Is that why your always tackling Jessie, cause she’s cozy” Sam teased as she shook your shoulders “no” you said “I tackle her cause she’s good and she’s too nice to tackle me back” you said with a small smile and Sam and Hayley laughed.

“No but seriously what is it between you two whenever you play” Mary asked as she came over “Oh my little Mary, my young prodigy” you started and she rolled her eyes

“Y/n seriously I want to know, I’m also not that young I’m three years younger than you”

“Exactly you’re an infant”

You smirked but gave her an option to lean onto your should “I’m actually not sure how we started it” you admitted “we both had our debuts for Chelsea and Arsenal on the same day and were put on each other we both wanted to make an impact I guess”

“You made an impact all right, two yellow cards” Sam laughed “You’ve had this tension ever since, even when you were dating that Tom guy” she said.

You hid your head as you looked down remembering why the relationship failed, you couldn’t admit you were not sexually attracted to Jessie and he left, funny since later you had found out he had cheated on you with a girl who had been on 2 episodes of love island.

“Yeah well I’m not dating him anymore so” you trailed off and the three girls nodded “Do you think the tension will ever ease off?” Mary asked and Hayley laughed “I think once they finally sleep together-“

“Hayley!” You scolded her “what?” She shrugged “it’s true, even the fans can see it” she defended herself as you scoffed “do you even remember the World Cup!?” she practically now yelled

“Both of your hands were practically around each other when you were on the ball” she said and you laughed “sorry if I just wanted to get possession of the ball so we could score goals”

“We pass with our feet not our hands y/n/n” Mary said and you closed her mouth “hush little one” you said quickly and she shook her head out of your grasp.

“Admit to me you’re not sexually attracted to Jessie Fleming”

“I’m not attracted to Jessie Fleming”

“Now I thought your New Year’s resolution was to stop lying” Sam stepped in and you threw your head back “No you know what I’m going to be nice” you said

“At the game I’m going to ask to switch jerseys as an act of kindness” you smiled and Hayley rolled her eyes “that’s not what I would do” she warned and you shook your head

“Trust me it will work, we will be best friends by the time you know it”

“So you won’t mark her on the pitch?” Sam asked

“Do you want us to lose Samantha?” you shot back and she laughed “anyways” you said standing up “I see Mini standing alone so I’m gonna make sure Kyra hasn’t accidentally fallen off the ferry and drowned”

You ended up finding the girl in the captains area with a bawl of lollies in her hand.

“Don’t tell Katrina”

When you finally made your way to the stadium later the next day you grimaced at the floor “fake grass” you groaned and Polks laughed at you “not a laughing matter” you said and walked into the rooms.

You felt the stadium grow as Canadian watches and a few lucky Australian fans made their way into their seats.

You were tying up your boots when you felt a presence behind you “hey skipper” you laughed as Sam sat next to you “I just wanna say no reds” she said “I know they’re out for blood since World Cup okay and I don’t want a pissy Jessie coming back to Chelsea”

“No reds got it, what about a yellow?” You asked with a cheeky smile “I’ll allow one” she said and you acted like a two year old who got told they can get ice cream.

You both laughed and Sam pushed you out “cmon idiot”.

In the line up, you were out the front behind Ellie when you felt eyes burning into your head, you knew it was Jessie so when you turned around and saw her you just smirked which made her roll her eyes and look back at her team.

“Cheeky” Hayley said from behind you and you just shrugged your shoulders.

You went to your mark on the field where Jessie was as she looked concentrated “stop frowning Jessie it will give your face lines” you told her and she looked back at you “are you talking from experience or?” She questioned as she looked at your forehead and you laughed.

“Let’s just play for now okay and then you can think about my facial features later”

The game wasn’t different than usual, you and Jessie were on each other hot, whenever one of you had the ball the other was quick to try and get you down or stop you from a long kick.

You were a bit more touchier with the legs though as One time you nut-megged her own ball through her feet “come on” she complained as she was to far behind you to stop your assist to Sam’s goal.

You turned to Jessie “you know I can take a tackle Fleming” you teased and she crossed your head at you “Just play the game y/l/n” she said and you smirked from next to her “I seem to be the only person who is”.

Jessie was rough after that, she knew she couldn’t let you get away with anything else, so next time you had the ball she was quick to kick out from under your ankle as you hit the ground, accidentally taking her down with you, automatically you turned over on top of Jessie and you watched the ref walk over to you and the Canadian.

You looked down at the brunette who was still on the floor “did I get into your head?” You whispered before sitting up and reaching your hand out for Jessie to use but she got up herself causing you to roll your eyes and shrug it off.

The red pulled out a yellow for Jessie who shook her head “Still winning” she reminded you with a smirk and you smirked back “ooh she’s coming out of her shell”.

When the game finally finished and Canada came on top you shook all the players hands, lingering on Jessie’s before you joined some of the girls on a lap.

You saw a sign that made you laugh

Australia vs Canada

Nah.

Fleming vs y/l/n!

You smiled as you looked for Jessie and found her with her captain who was having her send off.

“Fleming!” You called out to her and she turned around with furrowed brows “what?” she asked and you smirked “come look at this” you said and turned your head back.

She followed you to the sign and also chucked a smile at it as people quickly grabbed their phones to take pictures of the two of you smiling at the sign as you laughed at each other.

You saw Hayley looking at you with a knowing look in the corner of your eyes before you remembered “Wait Jess” you said before she left, not realising the nick name you let out “yeah” she said “I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to swap Jerseys, last game after all before we face each other off in Olympic hopefully” you asked and Jessie’s cheeks blushed “yeah sure, need some more in my collection honestly”

Your heart raced as you saw the Canadian take off her top, you secretly took a look at her abs as she did so, you don’t know why you waited until she took hers completely off before you took yours off until you hear a whistle from the crowd you laughed and took yours off.

Jessie’s blush grew as she took no shame in staring at your body and your waist.

“Nice tattoo” she muttered as you held your shirt out for her, looking down you looked at your flower tattoo under your sports bra “thanks got it for my mum” you smiled and she gave you hers.

“Ready for the photos” you smirked and she nodded.

When you put them on you heard some fans scream out and you both turned around, you in front of Jessie as she saw her name on your back.

She lingered before stepping next to you and you smiled for some photos before a professional photographer came and you smiled again, one photo where Jessie was looking at you.

You both parted ways after as Jessie kept her eyes on you, pupils diluted as Sam went up to her “good game” she said and Jessie kept her eyes glued onto you and your back.

“She’s staying at the Grand Heir Hotel” she smirked before smacking her Chelsea team mate on the back and walking off with a smile.

You got some shit from the team when you walked in with Jessie’s shirt on, especially from your Arsenal team mates who were whisper shouting.

Sam walked over to you where your cheeks were blushing “I may have told Jessie where your staying” she admitted and you widened your eyes “why?” You asked and she shrugged her shoulders “just cause” she said and walked away.

“Samantha!” You called but she walked away.

You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face as you turned back to your cubby.

You had showered when you got home and hanged Jessie’s shirt up in the open wardrobe so you could still see it as you lied on your bed.

It was about 10:00 when a knock on your door started. Furrowing your brows you got up and opened it to see a slightly puffed out Jessie Fleming.

“Do you know how hard it was to figure out which room was yours?” She asked out of breath “I’m sorry?” You replied and she nodded “you should be” she said as she made her way in.

“Jessie-“ “call me Jess” she cut you off “what?” You asked and she nodded “I liked it” she said “when you called me Jess”

You smiled “okay Jess” you repeated “what are you doing here?” You asked and she looked around until she found her shirt in your wardrobe and grabbed it and threw it to you “put it back on” she said as she stepped closer to you “excuse me?” You asked and she repeated again.

“Jess I’m in my pajamas I don’t have a bra on” you admitted and she smirked “put it on” she repeated and you grew hot.

fuck she looked hot right now, you thought to yourself as she looked down at you.

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me” she whispered into your ear and you tried not to shudder at her words. “Do it for me” you whispered back as you looked into her hungry eyes, her pupils were dilated and you were sure yours were too.

Jessie gripped the edge of your white T-shirt before grazing her fingers underneath and hitting your bare skin but she kept eye contact.

“I want you to know that I’m going to fuck you, giving me that yellow today and egging me on, I’m not letting that pass today” she said as she grabbed your waist under your top and pulled you closer to her so that your lips were practically touching.

The feeling in between your legs was aching, you needed her.

“Take off my top Fleming” you told her before you stepped back, getting bing her room.

She smirked before grabbing the ends of your shirt and pulling it over your head, looking at your boobs before lightly pressing on them them “you’re beautiful” she said as she kissed on them, leaning your head back you groaned and she tugged on your nipple.

“No noise until my name is on your back” she ordered and you nodded “so loud on the pitch but I can make you silent with just one touch” she cooed and you closed your eyes out of pleasure, trying to not make any noise.

When Jessie pulled your arms up and slipped her jersey over your head you bit your lip and looked down at the jersey.

“Did you know I’d react like this? She taunted as she planted kissed on your neck “Did you know that I’d want to fuck your smirk out of you” she planted more “Did you know that sitting on top of me in the middle of the game would make want to kiss you right then and there” she taunted as she sucked on your skin, marking you.

“Jessie” you muttered out in pleasure as she walked you to the bed and through you on the mattress. You were so wet you didn’t know if she could see it through your grey tracksuit pants or not.

“We’re keeping to top on” she said as she leaned over the op of you and finally brought her lips to yours and kissed you, you let her take dominance of the kiss as her hands roamed your body until they reached your pants.

She looked at you for permission and you nodded “I need your words y/n” she said and you looked at her “yes”

“yes what?” Jessie taunted and you squirmed under her touch as she traveled her hand from your waist and teasingly down your pants without touching your pussy which you craved.

“yes please fuck me with your finger, mouth anything” you groaned out and Jessie smirked.

She returned her lips to yours before she grabbed the edge of your pants and slid them down, her moth following her as she kept them on you, trailing kisses along the jersey and until she hit your undies.

“Lace” she smiled “did you know I was coming?” She asked “I may have gotten a hint” you admitted and Jessie moved her hands up to squeeze your butt as she jerked your body up towards her,

“My favourite colour is blue” she fainted as she played with your blue lace underwear “too bad I have to take them off” she said as she blew on to your pussy and you moaned.

You were pulsing, searching for any friction.

Jessie slowly pulled your underwear down before she spread your legs apart and slid a finger through your folds.

“So wet, just for me” she said before leaning in and pressing her tongue through you, making you throw your head back and your back arch which she responded with putting her hand on your stomach and pushing you down so you couldn’t move.

She kept on going until you started moaning her name “Jessie- Jessie fuck keep going” you whimpered as she shot her head up, her chin covered in your juices.

“Turn around” she ordered and you did and she walked away “Jess” you nurtured and she walked back up to you “I’m not leaving don’t worry” she assured you and pressed her lips into yours as you tasted yourself.

She walked away as you heard her rummage through her bag she brought with her, you smiled to yourself as you saw the glimpse of the strap she held in her hands before stepping into it.

“Who’s name is on your back?” She asked you, her voice darker than usual “yours” you muttered out before she tapped your entrance with her cock “but louder than that baby, who’s name is on your back?” She asked again

“Yours” you moaned out louder and she slapped your ass making you whimper “exactly” she said before pushing in to your entrance.

“Fuck Jessie” you screamed out her name as she grew her paste wuick almost giving you no time to adjust.

“New question” she said as she moaned, the strap rubbing against her clit as she thrusted into you.

“Who’s cock is going to make you cum?” She asked as she somehow went quicker making you moan out in pleasure, your hair was up in a pony tail so she grabbed on to the end of your hair and pulled you back so your face was reaching the roof.

“That wasn’t an answer” she said and you closed your eyes “Yours Jessie, your cock” you whimpered out and she let go of your hair.

“You going to come with me” she demanded and you nodded “make me cum” you whined and she went in Harder and pressed you down more into the mattress.

It wasn’t long until you felt a coil in your stomach “Oh fuck, I’m bout to come” you repeated and you heard Jessie’s whimpers “me too, come with me” she said and you both let out moans as you came together and rides out your highs together.

You both stayed there until Jessie slowly pulled out and slowly rubbed her fingers over her last name on your back.

She then helped you go on your back as she leaned down and kissed you softly.

“Can we do that again?”

[neverlearnedtoread]

Forging Silver Into Stars

⭐⭐⭐⭐; its genuinely really great to see an author get better and more subtle with their writing and characterization over time

Oh?? 👌😉😏

one of kemmerer's greatest strengths is the robustness of her worldbuilding - not only does emberfall feel distinct from karis luran, in culture and in setting, this alternate universe intersects with the 'real world' without losing its believability. i respect an author with the complexity to write about characters from another world with their own prejudices interacting with characters from the 'real world' without tripping over their own setting

lgbt romance that's sweet, heartfelt, not shortchanged, OR overplayed! in fact i did like all the romances in this story and the range they displayed. i have my favourites but they were all both distinct and at least passably interesting to me

women who get to be complex! i will forever mourn what lia mara could have been (viciously politically savvy with a moral core, usually a male character's archetype from fiction ive consumed) but i did like her interactions with the more cynical callyn

'side character gets a POV in the spinoff' book! i don't feel like it was a cash grab or because the author was too afraid to write something new, the plot AND the narrative voice was distinct from the original trilogy without feeling too removed from its events.

No.. ❌🤢🤮

another character from the original series continues on his era of becoming more annoying since bk1. grey...your character was way more fun when you didn't have as much responsibility. i liked you as an antagonising force / source of tension for tycho in his book but your bullheadedness is really not fun on its own merit. i definitely dont miss the days you were a POV character!

lots of travelling; not something i hate, personally, but it may feel a bit time-consuming to go back and forth like a pingpong ball. the travelling aspect feels enough a part of the narrative for me not to get frustrated by it, but given that only ONE character moves from place to place, while the other two stay in a relatively non-important setting for the most part, it might feel quite jarring to switch POVs

This is a spinoff from a trilogy (Cursebreaker Trilogy by Brigid Kemmerer, starting with A Curse So Dark and Lonely) - pretty unavoidable spoilers for the ending of that trilogy up ahead!

Summary: Some years have passed since Grey was crowned King of Emberfall and married Lia Mara, the Queen of Syhl Shallow. They now live in the Crystal Palace, trying to keep the peace with a populace that despises their king-by-marriage for his magic as much as they despair at their queen for her nonviolent diplomacy. Grey's young friend Tycho has been promoted to King's Courier, ferrying messages both public and secret between the royals to ferret out any rumblings of unrest before it can boil over. On one of his usual trips back and forth between the two kingdoms, he stops by a sleepy little village called Briarlock and meets two locals, Callyn and Jax. Syhl Shallow natives, they have different perspectives on how things have changed since King Grey and Queen Lia Mara took their thrones, and are suspicious and charmed in turns by the young lord in their midst.

Concept: 💭💭💭 I have decidedly mixed feelings about the Cursebreaker Trilogy - like a rollercoaster it took me up (bk1), then downnnn (bk2), then rolled flat (bk3)! So I was pretty cautious about reading this spinoff. Tycho was relatively interesting in the original trilogy, but mostly in relation to Grey, and I...did not leave the original trilogy loving Grey as a character. He got boring when they gave him responsibility.

Execution: 💥💥💥 I don't think what Kemmerer wants to explore with this fantasy world (fantasy politics through a modernist moral lens) is ever going to be what I want to explore, but I can appreciate that she's getting better at showcasing the conflict she wants to build in her stories. Having only non-royal POVs in this story really helped make the story feel more real to me - when you're not one of the big movers and shakers (even Tycho, for all his proximity to power, feels the limit of his influence when they strip him of his rings and Grey refuses to listen to his counsel), you're gonna feel resentment for the Big Guys making the choices. They're the ones holding your lives in their hands, and for all their best intentions, they may not treat you well all the time! I definitely felt like this was her best book I've read yet, because Kemmerer wasn't just telling me the conflict and how it was gonna go - she was able to show it to me through the character's actions and situations.

Personal Enjoyment: ❤❤❤❤ I will be honest, I skimmed Callyn's AND to a lesser extent Jax's POV until the end because I just really wanted to read about Rhen from an outside POV that wasn't Harper's. I would apologise but I promised myself when I started writing these book reviews not to say sorry for stuff I don't regret, and me picking favourites regardless of rational thought falls firmly under that. I did truly come to enjoy the final conflict AND tycho's POV for its own merit, tycho's personality in particular was really fun to see in action, but the middle section where callyn is living her 'maybe-this-shady-guy-isnt-manipulating-me' denial era didn't ever get easy to read.

Favourite Moment: Any Rhen moment but especially that part with him being gentle and sweet with Harper when Tycho first tells him about the tournament idea. Tycho's description of their relationship being quiet and sweet was SO CUTE in general - the idea that Tycho finds Rhen pretty difficult to be around at first, but admits you'd have to be blind not to see he's besotted with Harper - I sigh every time

Favourite Character: I'm a Rhen apologist through and through but Tycho actually went over so well with me in this book. That bit when he rounds on Grey to berate him for not thinking shit through and running off without a plan? SAY IT LOUDERRRRR. I have truly enjoyed seeing Kemmerer grow as a writer and write Tycho with this level of nuance - his eventual realisation that he gets along well with Rhen, despite their history, his cautious but earnest courtship with Jax, even his ever-shifting relationship with the Syhl Shallow royal family both in public and private settings, all of it felt like it fit together and informed Tycho's characterization as a whole without conflicting with any other part of it.

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Retreat pt 1

“Don’t go out too far!”

Nadlia’s shouts were heard, but were they really? The four youths rushed ahead, with a smaller one trailing behind. Nadlia sighed, shaking her head as Belisia laughed beside her, taking her arm.

“We haven’t been here in a long time,” she said, turning around. “It’s been a while for all of us.”

Behind her, Malgam, Koysov, and Tuvra trailed as well. They approached the fine stone and steel bridge that led them across the ravine, which led into the vast ocean; ahead of them was Pelterra, a recreational district famous for it’s seaside views, merchants, food, and the Spinning Wheel, a giant ferris wheel in the middle of the island that lit up the sky at night. 

The five, short of three, decided to bring their children here as a birthday gift. They had all been born this month some thirteen years ago as another generational boom; save for the smallest one

Atello was the oldest, and Nadlia’s born son to Belisia. Joining him was Trinilli, Malgam’s born daughter to Tuvra; Aveltan was Belisia’s born son to Tuvra, and Nashille, the son Tuvra had borne for Koysov. And then there was little Amallia; Belisia’s born daughter to Nadlia, who was seven today. Her older siblings had put a little plastic tiara on her bright blond hair early that morning and she’d insisted it stay on through the whole trip; and she held it on as she chased after them over the bridge.

“I think they’re as excited as we are,” Tuvra laughed; he rubbed his hands together. “I think I’m hitting that new cupcake shop.”

“Ooh, not without me!” Belisia said, peeling back to put her arm in his. Nadlia feigned a pout as she turned, walking backwards. 

“I thought you were gonna join me at the archery range.”

“You really think I’m gonna sit and watch you flex when I could be having cupcakes?”

Nadlia mulled this over, shrugging. “Touche; what about you guys?” She asked, looking over at Malgam and Koysov. 

Malgam looked out to the sea. “I haven’t been to the beach in some time. I’ll go sit by the shore.” 

Koysov’s hands dug into his pockets. He peered over to his king; and he wanted to join him. But something blocked his heart from saying what it wanted.

“What about you, Koy?” Nadlia asked. “Wanna try your hand at some archery?”

“I think you’d be good at it, Koysov!” Tuvra insisted; but the lawmaker just smiled and shook his head, pulling out a package of cigarettes. 

“I’m no athlete. But I am good at a game of pool if you want to join me at Corello’s.”

Nadlia grinned. “Screw the archery then; you got yourself a drinking buddy,” she said as Koysov jogged ahead, taking her arm in his as she laughed. The remaining three watched Nadlia pluck Koysov’s cigarette and take a drag as he talked before she put it back in his mouth, exhaling ring after perfect ring.

As they passed the kids, the elders spoke to them quickly as they watched ducks down in the ravine. The kids each purchased plastic bubbles of pellets and dried corn from squeaky, metal clunkers of machines, which they handed to Amallia as she sprinkled them down into the glistening waves. 

“You all have our numbers?” Nadlia asked. Atello sighed.

“Yeah mom, we have all of your numbers,” he said, shaking his mop of black hair. “I’ll watch Amallia.”

“We got it, Mama ‘Lia!” Aveltan waved. He watched his mother and father pass by as Belisia tried to wipe a smudge off of his cheek. Trinilli, dark haired and golden eyed, waved to Malgam. 

“Have fun at the beach, dad!” She said as Malgam nodded, stopping to gain the attention of the young ones.

“We’ll meet at Murdeo’s at five; then we’ll be off to the cabin. Be aware of each other; and take care. Call us if you’re separated.”

“Will do!” Trinilli said as the others nodded. Malgam reached into his pocket and presented the five with a color-coded card. 

“Here; a treat for you all. There’s 500 Oli on each one.”

“FIVE HUNDRED??” Atello screamed. Trinilli jumped into Malgam’s arms.

“DAD YOU’RE THE BEST!”

Malgam laughed as Aveltan and Nashille also bounded forward, bombarding the king with bearhugs as they cheered. As they separated he knelt to hug Amallia as she waited her turn.

“Happy birthday to all of you,” he beamed at the excited little group before they parted. He watched them, like their own little gaggle of ducks, bob and weave through the streets, holding Amallia’s hand as they entered the shopping district. 

The five split and separated as well, with Malgam going his own way as he walked quietly through the streets. Recognized and waved to by his people, he made his way toward the beach. He had little intention to change out of his dark clothing. He didn’t much swim; and if he did, it would be later at the cabin. And not in the pool. 

He stepped off of the cement pathway, and towards a grassy, shaded park. Through it was the beach entrance, and finally the golden sands, his shoes crunching into the soft surface. The waves lapped against the shore, inviting playful visitors to linger in the mists of the crashing water. Boats dotted the glistening blue water in all shapes and sizes; from sailboats to larger, more luxurious vehicles. 

Malgam found a spot in a corner to take a seat and to breathe in the salty air. He rested his cheek on his folded hands and took in the sight of happy, excited visitors.

This was what his long days were about. The peace and prosperity of his world and his people. The reason why he and The Eight saw to their efforts of introducing new generations to strengthen and continue the lives through earth.

It wasn’t long until he heard a small commotion, and rising from the crowds was a balloon, lost by it’s small owner as he tried to reach for the string; but before Malgam could stand, the boy’s mother bounded forward, and she gracefully morphed her arms into wings, with feathers protruding from her shoulderblades all the way to her fingertips, and she lifted into the air to claim her child’s souvenir. She retrieved the balloon to her son’s happiness to the amusement of everyone around her. Malgam smiled, resting once more with the contentment that things were better than his heart often told him.

He received messages from time to time. From the kids, from Trinilli, pictures from Nadlia as she bested Koysov at pool, and Belisia asking Malgam if he would like for her and Tuvra to buy him a treat.

He sent messages to Boxrom and Floralis back home at the palace. They were busy after just welcoming a new daughter last month. A call chimed and he answered it, seeing Floralis on the screen holding the new addition, deep in sleep with a pacifier to keep her contained.

“How was the trip?” She asked. 

Malgam chuckled. “A bit hectic, but we got through it. How’s everything at home?”

“Well, I would say quiet, but Yulina decided to make up for all the noise herself after you all left.”

Malgam smiled as as the red-haired infant curled up in Floralis’ arms. Boxrom appeared behind Floralis as he walked past the couch.

“Hey! Bring us back some Mardra!” He ordered, talking about Pelterra’s famous meade, made from honey that bees collected from the pristine gardens. Malgam nodded.

“I’m bringing back plenty. I plan on having some tonight,” he said as Boxrom disappeared. Floralis looked at Malgam.

“So... are you going to talk to him?”

Malgam fidgeted. “... “It’s been twenty-five years since he offered, Flor.”

“And? I know you two are still as close as any of us.”

Malgam swallowed. “It... it was merely an invitation if my nightmares got bad. But... But they’ve been fine lately; I haven’t had any since my last rest.” That was nearly fourteen years ago now.

Floralis eyed him, uncertain if he was being truthful; or if he was letting fear of his own emotions drown his anxiety.

He was king, but he was still a man of great fear; and his current greatest fear was being partial to another one of his StarMates; like he’d been with Boxrom. Like he’d been with Nadlia. 

“Just spend some time with him? You two were inseparable for a short time after Boxrom and I wed; but now we barely see you two interact. Did you fight?”

No. There was no fight. Malgam had just... stopped talking. 

For a while; he’d stopped talking to everyone. The nightmares had become too much. Then he left for a ten year rest; to regain his strength as he was hosted by a human. Then he returned, and in celebration, the one who’d welcomed him back the warmest was Tuvra; and Malgam was quick to become expecting, which turned out to be Trinilli. 

Returning to his loved ones after a decade, Malgam had noticed the subtle changes. Nadlia’s countenance had softened some as hers and Belisia’s romance continued. Boxrom and Floralis were still finishing each other’s sentences. Tuvra had managed to become less of a hermit... But the closeness they encountered soon withered. That didn’t mean they didn’t love each other as much as they had; but it was apparent that the budding relationship Malgam had thought would bloom... simply never bloomed. Much like Tuvra and himself, it remained an eternal bud.

But Malgam’s heart still quarreled within his sternum when Koysov looked his way.

“No. But... If it’ll make you happy; I’ll try to talk to him.”

Floralis glowed. “I think it’ll do you some good; especially with all of you out of the palace for a few days. If anything, Malgam; just... take care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry, Flor. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Ending the call, Malgam looked back out to the sea; resuming the reminder that he was on vacation, surrounded by laughter and freedom.

He merely adjusted the high-buttoned collar of his shirt, making sure none of the scars on his throat were visible.

Checking his pocketwatch as the sun made it’s trek in the deep blue sky, Malgam stood after a few hours of enjoying downtime, and he returned through the park, where he happily kicked a soccerball back to a group of youngsters, who cheered at seeing High King Malgam intervene with their game.

Entering the Opello district, Malgam walked through, letting his eyes wander as he slowly made his way to Murdeo’s. He kept his eyes out for gifts, not only for the younger ones, but for his StarMates. For Boxrom and Floralis back home; and for little Yulina. For Edeli, who was somewhere helping one of her brothers as they researched medicine; he had to stop and realize if he had to buy gifts for everyone there wouldn’t be any room in either vehicle to go home. Instead, he merely windowshopped for now; perusing each different building. 

As five ‘o clock approached, he made his way to Murdeo’s; a handsome restaurant at the culmination of the Opello district. It wasn’t the fanciest; but it was a much-sought out retreat at Pelterra. The crowd outside murmured as he approached, and he heard the clicks of phones as photos were taken as he jogged up the steps, smiling at them.

Inside, he found the others, sitting as the kids continue to gabble and gossip about their exciting day. Trinilli waved excitedly as Malgam came into view, and she stood to greet her life-giver with an embrace.

“Dad!! How was the beach?” She asked. Malgam smiled, clearing her golden eyes of her dark hair that fell forward.

“Beautiful; just like you.”

Trinilli scrunched her nose in a grin. “I saw you sitting, but you looked like you were tired. We’re gonna go there tomorrow and swim!” She said, putting Malgam’s arm over her shoulders as they walked. “We bought swimsuits! We all pitched in and bought Amallia some floaties so she wasn’t spending too much of her Oli at once.”

“That’s very generous of you all.”

“Hey, Mal!” Nadlia waved He took his seat next to Tinilli as she leaned on Tuvra next to her. Aveltan and Nashille were both discussing shoes they’d found in a high-scale shop to their father. Tuvra looked exhausted; not at the cost, but at his sons’ space-consuming habits.

“You guys have like, fifteen pairs of shoes.” He said tiredly.

“Yeah but these have remote laces!” Aveltan described in awe. Tuvra didn’t budge.

“Yes. I oversaw the patent for those before you were born.”

Trinilli laughed as her half-brothers did their best to convince Tuvra to look at the accessories with them tomorrow, and she looked back up at Malgam, who’s attention, as usual, was elsewhere, and she chose to lean on him instead.

“Thanks for bringing us out, dad.”

Malgam happily pulled her aside once more. “Of course.”

“You seem kinda down. Wanna talk about it? Is it work?”

“It’s a lot of things; but it’s not this. It’s not you, Starling. I’m happy to be here.”

He was about to say more, but across a corner in the distance, Koysov came into view. Something about his posture and presence was different, and Malgam’s breath hitched. It wasn’t long until he realized Amallia was running in front of him, carrying a stuffed animal he hadn’t seen before.

“Look! Look!! Look what Papa Koy got me from the claw machine!!” She announced, holding the bunny plush, complete with a pink ribbon, close in a hug; and immediately the attention span of the four teenagers flipped like a switch.

“There’s a claw machine?! Atello begged to know.

“Where?!” Nashille asked, and Amallia pointed towards the corner she and Koysov had approached from.

“Back there, they have a lot of games! I saw them at the drinking fountains!”

A rush of scraping chairs, and a thundering of feet later, Nadlia was shouting “Let’s at least put in an order first!!”

An order of meals and a sudden exodus of youngsters later, the five adults were left at the table, slowly sipping colorful drinks and laughing.

“Here, Mal!” Belisia said, handing a box his way. “These are from Crumble!” 

Malgam tore into the seal to find a box of four cupcakes; heavy on the icing with huge, orb sprinkles. 

“Where’s mine?!” Koysov asked indignantly, slamming the table playfully. Belisia rolled her eyes and pushed an identical box his way; but she stood to give Nadlia’s to her with a peck on the cheek.

“We got some for the kids too; we’ve already taken them to the cabin.”

“They’ll be up all night,” Nadlia groaned.

Malgam smiled, crunching into a candy piece that had been lodged into some icing. “But that’s why we do this. So they can have the childhoods we didn’t have.”

He peered over, looking to Koysov, who nodded. Chatter resumed, to Malgam’s content, and his fellow loves kept each other entertained as Nadlia recounted her pool game with Koysov, and Tuvra and Belisia named the best shops and relaxation points. He closed his eyes, feeling his happiness warm and lulling in the crowd, smelling pleasant food as the alcohol helped soothe his constant fears.

Strange; he felt as though he was falling asleep.

Hands? No; there was no way anyone was able to grab his wrists and pull him... Right? 

Stop leading me.

Stop pulling me. 

His head felt the back of an operating table as he was pushed onto it. Not this again. Hadn’t they taken enough?

Dad?

Let me be; just for once; let me be!

“Dad!”

Malgam’s eyes shot open; he looked over to find Trinilli standing next to him, worried. 

“You okay?” She asked. “You’re sweating.”

Blinking, Malgam took the cloth napkin and mopped at his face. “Y-Yeah... I’m fine. I’m... I’m alright.”

His StarMates looked on as the kids, save for Trinilli sat excitedly as food was finally being dished out.

“I just... it’s been a long week. But now I can rest,” Malgam said to his daughter, who smiled and patted his hand. She held it there for a moment, feeling his muscles quiver.

Malgam peered up, just barely seeing Koysov stare in concern. He mouthed a ‘you okay?’, and Malgam nodded, breaking eye contact as he put his napkin in his lap, still shuddering.

Stars... he thought he was finally rid of them...

[thecomicsnexus]

AQUAMAN #1-4 FEBRUARY - MAY 1986 BY NEAL POZNER, CRAIG HAMILTON, STEVE MONTANO AND JOE ORLANDO

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC DATABASE)

The Ocean Master attacks the coastal community of New Venice, Florida – the adoptive home of Aquaman. Aquaman and Mera arrive to protect their neighborhood from the villain's brutal assault, but are surprised to discover that he is now much more powerful than he once was.

Aquaman and Ocean Master wrestle one another, while Mera uses her hard-water powers to save nearby civilians. Arthur demands to know the meaning behind this attack, but Ocean Master dodges the question, preferring instead to brag to his stepbrother about his newfound power. He quickly overcomes Aquaman and leaves his body floating on the beach. Arthur gathers himself together, but by the time he revives fully, Ocean Master is nowhere to be found.

In Atlantis, squads of soldiers surround the palace of King Vulko demanding permission to make war against the surface world. The people of Atlantis are committed towards their tradition of isolationism, and feel that the surface world's interest in their culture is an affront to their lifestyle. Vulko does not intend to authorize a war, but realizes that the angry mob could very well strip him of his power. Further, Vulko learns that someone has stolen the Royal Seal of Atlantis. Without it, he can no longer legally govern his charges.

He sends a telepathic call to Aquaman who quickly responds. Explaining the situation to him, Vulko theorizes that mystics from the Atlantean community known as Thierna Na Oge may be responsible for the Seal's theft. He provides Aquaman with a special camouflage outfit and asks him to recover the Seal.

Aquaman swims to Thierna Na Oge, but quickly finds himself embroiled in a civil war between two rival regents, King Bres and Nuada Silverhand. Nuada's soldiers attack Aquaman and take him captive.

King Bres of Thierna Na Oge has captured Aquaman and now holds him prisoner in her dungeon. He shares the cell with Bres' deposed sister, Nuada Silverhand. Aquaman struggles to free himself from his manacles, but they are composed of a mystic mineral called Orichalcum. King Bres and her entourage enter the prison to interrogate Nuada and Aquaman. She wants to know the location of an artifact called the Lia Fail. She believes Nuada has stolen it, and that Aquaman is her accomplice.

Bres uses her magic to scan Aquaman's mind, and learns that he knows nothing of their missing artifact. She is still convinced that he is a spy however, and sentences him to death. Members of the Tuatha De Danann bring the King of Atlantis to an arena pit, forcing him to defend himself against a hideous monster known as Sreng of the Firbolg.

The Tuatha De Danann channels the might of their magic into the Firbolg vastly increasing his strength. Aquaman attempts to use his telepathy on Sreng, but this yields little effect. Sreng's rampage causes the support columns of the arena to collapse. As carnage ensues, Aquaman summons a swordfish to ferry him away from the battle scene. He meets with Nuada, who has likewise freed herself and the two leave Thierna Na Oge.

Aquaman believes that the missing Lia Fail may be connected to the theft of the Seal of Atlantis. Nuada uses her magic to track the Lia Fail's location to a settlement known as Maarzon. When they arrive, they find that Ocean Master has taken command of the savage of Maarzon and now orders them to attack Aquaman.

Ocean Master commands the savages of Maarzon to bring Aquaman and Nuada Silverhand to his citadel. In a surprising display of brutality, Ocean Master punches Nuada in the stomach, in the hopes of baiting Aquaman into attacking him. He then transports them from Maarzon to his private citadel.

Later, during their imprisonment, Aquaman tells Nuada of the origins behind his and Orm's rivalry. Aquaman's father, Tom Curry found an Atlantean woman named Atlanna and the two fell in love. Living together in Tom's lighthouse, they eventually gave birth to Arthur. Years later, Atlanna died and Tom remarried. He sired a child with his second wife, named Marius. Marius never developed the aquatic super-powers that Arthur had and because of that, he grew to despise him. As he grew into adulthood, Marius took the name Orm, and became the self-styled Ocean Master.

Ocean Master arrives in their cell and reveals that he is responsible for stealing the Lia Fail and the Royal Seal of Atlantis. Both items contain the original Zodiac crystals that once governed all magic in ancient Atlantis. Once he acquires the remaining ten, Ocean Master will be all-powerful.

Meanwhile, the soldiers of Atlantis forced Vulko to lead them in an attack against the surface world. They are convinced that emissaries from the surface are responsible for stealing the Royal Seal. Vulko doesn't want to attack the surface, but he is left with little choice. Suddenly, Ocean Master appears before them. Vulko uses this opportunity to divert attention from innocent civilians towards this new villain, but as suddenly as he appears, he disappears again.

Aquaman savagely rampages after Ocean Master, only to discover that the man who had been taunting him was nothing more than an illusion. The real Ocean Master is miles away inciting an Atlantean invasion of the surface world.

Nuada manages to calm Aquaman down and forces him to realize that he cannot defeat his brother through conventional means. He has most of the twelve Zodiac crystals now, and is nearly unstoppable. As magic is powered by emotion, Ocean Master has been able to intensify his own power off Arthur's nascent anger. The only way to effectively counter his magic is with stronger magic.

Nuada scribes a pentagram and uses her own powers to unlock the mysteries of Aquaman's mind. She sifts through his memories and brings to light the most joyous as well as painful moments of his past. He recalls his time with the Justice League, the marriage to his wife, Mera, and the birth and tragic death of his son, Arthur, Jr.With Aquaman's emotional reservoir awakened, Nuada pulls his spirit from his body and sends it across the sea to confront the Ocean Master. 

The two fight one another on the astral plane, and Arthur taps into his own raging emotions in order to siphon away Ocean Master's power. He comes to terms with his own internal rage and uses his love for his brother to shatter his existence. When Aquaman's spirit returns to his body, he swims off towards Orm's last known location. All that is left of him is the shattered remains of his helmet. Arthur believes that his brother is dead.

REVIEW

You would think that this mini-series failed in creating a new status quo for Aquaman, and you would be wrong. It seems that this book was so popular, it almost got a sequel. Craig Hamilton fell behind schedule and it never happened. This is what Neal Pozner had in mind for the second mini-series:

After the phenomonal response to DC's first Aquaman series, a sequel seemed a foregone conclusion. Well, here it is. The second mini-series will lake place minutes after the first one ends, and will deal with the rest of the "Aquaman Family," as well as the star of the book. "Mera, Aqualad, and the rest of Atlantis did not show up much in the first series," notes writer Neal Pozner, 'but they're very important to this series. In the first series, we were trying to change and restructure Aquaman alone. Now we'll see how he's going to react to everybody else. The whole theme of the series is change, and how different people react to it. There have been radical changes in the lives of all the players, and we'll be looking at how those changes manifest themselves, and how each character deals with them. The three main characters will be Aquaman, Mera, and Aqualad, but we'll also be focusing on Makaira, Vulko, anew character named Tawna, Ronal, and (from Swamp Thing) the Sunderland Corporation."

As the series begins, we will find that Makaira (Vulko's wife), is ruling Atlantis in his stead, as he was injured in the fight with Ocean Master. Atlantis is going through a culture shock, as they have been isolated for two thousand years, and now they are interacting with the surface world. The surface world is finding that Atlantis is a great place to get rid of all the stuff it doesn't need and to get all the technology that they do need. Some Atlanteans are so taken with these new ideas, that they'll accept anything. "So they've got hula-hoops and Pac-Man and disco clothes that they're using underwater. There is even a fast-food restaurant that has been opened by the Sunderland Corporation, and the religious zealots use that as a focus for their protests against the surface worlds' imports. Makaira is caught between the religious zealots and the other Atlanteans, in her attempt to rule Atlantis."

Aquaman, meanwhile, is trying to deal with the fact that he loves his wife, and, he also seems to love another woman. Also, every rule he's ever lived by, he doesn't believe in anymore, and he will catch himself reverting back to his old actions. "This is not going to be the pat super-hero-gets-a-cosmic-revelation. When he gets mad, he'll lose his temper, except he'll catch himself midway through. Mera is going to have a really hard time also, because the man she married is not the man that returns to her. She's going to have a hard time trying to help. because she was raised having everything she wanted!' When Aquaman returns to New Venice, he finds that Mera has basically saved the whole town by herself. "Mera will be portrayed more heroically. In her own way, she is more powerful than Aquaman."

Aqualad will still be mourning Aquagirl's death, and he will retreat from the surface world to Atlantis. He eventually meets a young girl named Tawna. whom he will fall in love with. "The focus of the series is primarily on Aquaman, Aqualad, and Atlantis, but there will be all these subplots running along in the background."

If the art looks a bit too realistic, is because Craig Hamilton based Aquaman in two real people, Jeff Aquilon...

And Buster Crabbe...

But the main deal about the art is perhaps, Aquaman’s camouflaged suit. This suit was so hard to draw, even George Perez complained about it.

The reasoning for this costume being so complicated, is because you need to know anatomy to do it properly, as explained by Hamilton:

Aquaman costume is all tied around anatomy. Every point on it goes to a different reference point on the body, and you have to be able to draw the body moving in a natural way to naturally draw that costume.

But DC is always nervous of change and they tend to do away with things even before they can get a response from readers. Check the covers, three of them have the new logo, one of them has the old logo. WTF? Well, there’s more to it...

This series was a post-Crisis attempt at 'redefining' Aquaman*, at least that's how Pozner explained it in the letter column of issue Aquaman v2 #2. Sometime in 1982/1983, when Pozner was DC's Design Director, he was trying to solve the mystery of why Wonder Woman wasn't as popular as Superman or Batman. Pozner essentially wrote up an outline describing the strengths of the Wonder Woman concept and how to best fully explore them to reinvigorate her ongoing series. This outline somehow found it's way to DC head offices and Dick Giordano approached Pozner suggesting he should write and submit a Wonder Woman series proposal. Pozner explained that at the time, Wonder Woman was in very capable hands and another "well-respected" writer was planning on working on the title, so he turned down Giordano's offer because he wanted a real shot at revamping a DC character. Giordano suggested that Pozner pick any other character and submit another proposal. Pozner chose Aquaman.

Pozner explained that he chose Aquaman for several reasons: 1) Aquaman's costume wasn't visually appealing, 2) Aquaman didn't work well in settings where he was on dry land, 3) Aquaman had always been portrayed as a "dislikable, unsympathetic protagonist", and 4) Atlantis was a vague concept that needed some defining. Creating a unified version of the history of the DCU Atlantis was big on Pozner's "to do" list, as was forcing a change in Aquaman's personality (to make him likable again) and introducing a new contemporary costume.

From 1984 to 1986, Aquaman didn't have a solo series and was making regular appearances in Gerry Conway's Justice League of America ongoing series. One of the subplots in Conway's run was that Aquaman was becoming a pushy, critical, quick-tempered jerk (his marital troubles with his wife, Mera, appeared to be the driving factor). Conway was setting up inter-personal conflicts within the book to define the team and create it's own continuity, but never got the chance to resolve any of it because Aquaman abruptly left the league in Justice League of America #243 (1985) only to appear in this mini-series several months later. The extraction of Aquaman from the Justice League was based on a decision from DC's head office. In a 2008 interview with Rob Kelly on the JLA Satellite blog, Conway reveals: "At that point, I was being told what to do. My autonomy on the book--whenever I had any--probably ended around the time I left the book that first time, and after that I was basically trying to manage my way within the DC system. I don't think [Aquaman leaving] would've been my goal, leaving a group he had brought together."

The Aquaman v2 mini-series addresses and resolves Aquaman's anger management issues. Pozner did succeed in writing Aquaman as an interesting/likable character.

Although it was meant as a revamp, Pozner more or less leaves the Silver Age origin of Aquaman intact (i.e. lighthouse keeper meets Atlantean woman, they have a baby, Atlantean woman dies, and lighthouse keeper trains son/Aquaman to fulfill Atlantean woman's dying wish), but places special emphasis on the relationship between Aquaman and his step-brother, Ocean Master, to play up the motivation behind the antagonist's hatred towards the protagonist. Despite being a post-Crisis retelling of Aquaman's history, all the major things from Aquaman's pre-Crisis history remain intact: he still married Mera, he still lost his first son, he still lead Justice League Detroit, and he still mentored a young sidekick named Aqualad.

If the story also has a certain sensitivity to it, it’s perhaps because Neal Pozner wasn’t straight. (Phil Jimenez would later dedicate his Tempest mini-series to Neal Pozner, as both of them had a romantic relationship before Neal died in 1994). Furthermore, his initial intent of unifying Atlantis history was crucial for “Atlantis chronicles”, another Aquaman gem (that I reviewed last year).

Unfortunately for Pozner, Aquaman would be retconned by Robert Loren Fleming and Keith Giffen a few years later (also reviewed).

I think that as a story it works. And as a relaunch of the character, it could have worked with proper exploration of the mythos. However, knowing what Peter David did later, I actually appreciate that version more (even if this version is not that different from the new 52 one that we now live in).

I give this story a score of 9

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2 Chapter 20

Your girl, she go hard in the baste Swangin' on them, swangin' on them, swangin' on my ways Swangin' on my ways Swangin' on my ways I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" And I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" (Sound of rain helps me let go of the pain) And I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" (Sound of rain helps me let go of the pain)

Solange—"Sound of Rain"

Ungubani?

Who are you?

I asked this question of myself many times. Often times, I do not know. But I do know I am no longer the man my country knew. Maybe love? My son?

It has all changed me. T'Chaka must see what we can do, how we can change the course of time for the people who struggle so much in this land. Strangers to me, but my brothers and sisters still. How can I look at them, with the same skin as me, stolen from the same place I came from and not reach out to them? How can I sit idly by and watch in pain and return to Wakanda as if there was nothing to see at all?

Who am I?

A war dog who will not leave the lost tribe behind again. Who are you, my son? You will ask this one day and know the answer: N'Jadaka, son of N'Jobu.

My son.

###

My woman is in pain. We have been back home for a month since Lia's death, and I am set to leave for Wakanda and I am frightened. As a family, we have gone to three sessions with Dr. Davis. I thank Bast that children have the resilience to bounce back from tragedy. Our son struggles. He has good days and bad days, but most of his bad days come from his worry over Califia.

She is not faring well.

She has lost weight from not eating and she suffers from insomnia. She has taken leave from work and spends days in bed. The most that she allows me to do for her is to hold her at night and look after Erik. She self-medicates with edibles so that Erik won't smell marijuana smoke on her.

Lia's family has planned a private memorial for her, and I do not want Califia or Erik to go. She is furious with me, even though Lia's entire family and her own family agree that she and Erik should stay in the States for now. There are plans for a large public memorial next year. There have been protests and marches throughout Brazil and other parts of the world in solidarity with Lia's memory. Califia's pain and anger and lack of concern for her health make me question whether I can trust her to care for Erik when I am gone. Dante and Nana Jean have made plans to step in for me along with Rolita. Dante questions why I have to leave for a month when Califia needs me and the only thing that saves me from his questioning is that I tell him I must work to cover the bills since Califia isn't working. 

I have been bringing Erik over to my apartment to give him some semblance of a normal home life and to also give Califia privacy when her crying gets bad and she begs me to take our son away so he doesn't have to see her. On those days I call Rolita to watch her, and I make the time alone with my son the best that I can. James hangs with us a lot, and he has been a source of strength when I can't speak to Bakari. Erik is crazy about James, and they spend a lot of time playing video games together and streaming anime.

Erik is asleep in my apartment bedroom and I write this on my couch. Tomorrow we will go home to his mother and I will cook for both of them. I miss my woman so much. I miss touching her in that way. I miss kissing her. I miss her laughter. I miss her being that incredible mother to my son. I miss us.

###

This man Klaue will meet with me in the Netherlands. Sita has found a safe place for us to interact. A place that we can control access to. When I return to Wakanda I will know for sure who I can count on among the war dogs. I will also have to gain all access codes in order to lay my hands on the Vibranium I need. I have someone in place that I have turned who can help me. I just have to keep T'Chaka off of my back. He has been very open about keeping me close to him on this trip home. Zinzi has been cryptic about what's been happening, so I suspect she is being watched carefully too because of our closeness.

My meeting with Klaue has to go off without a hitch because my only chance to see him without surveillance right now is when I fly home. I made sure to choose a flight with a long layover in Northern Europe. I will have six hours to feel this man out. If I can use him, I will. Sita was right about him in one respect; he is a little whore for money. My research on him tells me he is willing to do anything for it.

###

N'Jobu dressed in warm layers and kept his dark glasses on when he entered the small villa in Amsterdam. He made sure to enter the country under an alias and not as Prince N'Jobu so he wouldn't have to bring any Doras with him. Sita came as his personal guard and even though she had secured the property and hired extra protection under her control, she was still wary of Klaue. Klaue was told to come alone and was watched and followed to make sure he did what he was told. N'Jobu gave orders to kill him on site if he did not acquiesce to all of his demands for secrecy. N'Jobu would not reveal his identity to the man. All that he was told was that some goods would need to be secretly couriered out of the country in the future and there was a handsome reward for his services if he should be used.

The semi-detached modern-styled steel and glass villa had plenty of open space surrounding it to give N'Jobu's people eyes on the meeting at all times. Snipers were in position, and if the meeting went left, Klaue would be disposed of and N'Jobu would go home and find someone else to ferry the Vibranium out.

Sitting at a small table facing the main glass entrance, N'Jobu and Sita watched a lone brown Mercedes meander up the winding driveway and park.

A short messy brown-haired man in an ill-fitting suit stepped from the driver's door and scanned the villa. One of Sita's hired hands stepped forward and patted Klaue down while another kept a gun trained on him.

"Great welcome committee!" Klaue shouted out loud enough so that N'Jobu could hear him.

Stepping into the villa, Klaue had a nervous swagger about him that was more bravado and posturing rather than real confidence. The Black faces that stared at him as he stood before N'Jobu had the man second-guessing who he was fucking with.

Klaue smelled of an over-dosing of expensive Italian cologne and poor personal hygiene. His greasy-looking hair and body odor offended N'Jobu. The poor-fitting suit was expensive but not tailor-made and looking at the man from head to toe, the watery light eyes, the liver lips, and a hodge-podge of tattoos on his arms, he could tell the little man was new to expensive tastes. N'Jobu's nose crinkled and he pointed to the chair seated across from him. Klaue sat down.

"Well, I'm here. Let's talk," Klaue said, "Mind if I smoke?"

N'Jobu gave a slight nod.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Klaue said slowly reaching into his suit pocket. He lit up a spicy-smelling thin cigarette.

"Ashtray?" Klaue asked.

Sita placed a glass of water in front of him.

"Wakanda," Klaue said.

N'Jobu stayed silent. This made Klaue even more nervous.

He studied the Afrikaner a little more. The future of his immediate family, Califia and Erik, depended on this thin rat-looking thing sitting before him. The only way N'Jobu could help the Black diaspora was through getting his hands on enough Vibranium to support a world-wide revolution. And the irony of it all was that a racist White South African was going to help jumpstart that revolution. And unbeknownst to Klaue, helping N'Jobu would usher in his own demise, the end of White Supremacy and the end of all of those who supported it, even other Black and non-Black people of color.

Sita stepped forward and handed Klaue a small satchel. The man opened it. His eyes seemed impressed.

"Just for showing up? Twenty-Five thousand in U.S. dollars?" Klaue said.

N'Jobu nodded. When he felt the man was going to burst if he didn't speak soon, N'Jobu folded his hands in his lap.

"Your record is clean. And when things have gone awry, you disappear. I like that."

"He speaks!" Klaue exclaimed, holding his hands up and looking around the room smiling hard. Not one Black face gave him warmth.

"This is just part of a retainer. If I like what I hear, then you will receive another seventy-five thousand to help collect your team within the next year," N'Jobu said.

Klaue leaned forward while listening to N'Jobu's voice. He pointed to N'Jobu's face.

"You're…you're not just some radical. The way you talk…you are a higher up—"

"Who he is, that is not your business. You are here to listen and do what we ask," Sita hissed, moving closer to him, her hand on a gun holstered to her hip.

N'Jobu whispered to her in Wakandan to chill. The three other war dogs in the room along with the three hired hands stepped closer, letting Klaue know to watch his mouth.

"I get the feeling that what I am asked to retrieve aren't just some priceless artifacts," Klaue said, the smile sliding off of his face, "Human trafficking?"

This was the part of the conversation N'Jobu was waiting for. The part he wished he didn't have to divulge, but he had to because even though Vibranium was undetectable to outside modern metal detectors and such, it wasn't stable, and Klaue would have to be shown how to smuggle it out safely.

N'Jobu motioned with his fingers for Sita to bring forth the sample of Vibranium enclosed in a protective capsule.

The luminous electric blue glow mesmerized Klaue's eyes. The man's mouth slipped open.

"Fuck it to hell…" he said standing up when the phosphorescent capsule was placed in his hand, "is this really…is this-?"

"Vibranium," N'Jobu said watching Klaue closely.

"I'm in—"

"We still have to discuss my terms and timetable—" "I don't care! I am in. Whatever your terms or timetable. I already know you will pay me well."

Klaue regarded N'Jobu with gleaming eyes. Sita took the Vibranium from Klaue's fingers and he tracked the luminous glow as she placed it in N'Jobu's hand.

"That small amount right there is worth millions. How much more do you have?" Klaue asked.

"Let us speak about your operation. How quickly can you organize a retraction team?"

Klaue took the hint that he would not be told more about their holdings. It was all need to know moving forward.

"Three to four months tops."

"Understand, I will wipe out you and your people if at any time I suspect chicanery."

"I am a professional. I do thorough background checks on all my people. You've done your homework, I'm sure."

"Talk to me," N'Jobu said leaning back in his seat.

The greasy-haired man in the ill-fitting suit leaned forward, a full smile widening his mouth and showing the glint of cheap gold-rimmed teeth.

"I will tell you all that you want to know," Klaue said.

And he did.

###

On the ride to the airport in the secured SUV, Sita kept staring at N'Jobu's face.

"What do you think, Your Highness?" she asked.

"We should not trust him at all, but he has the juice to get what we need to be done completed."

"Will I see you again on your way back to the States?" she asked.

"Yes. D'Beke will join us and we can begin."

Sita's face looked pleased. She even gave him a smile.

"What is happening at home?"

Sita's smile faded.

"The King….your brother…he has been putting dissenters in jail."

"What?"

"There have been political protests taking place in several Birnans. There's a new spiritualist cult that has had some major growth in followers who have been causing problems. Some protests have become rather violent, and King T'Chaka has taken in leaders and incarcerated them."

"What are they protesting exactly?"

"The lack of democracy in a monarchy. What else? The lack of freedom they have to practice their religion—"

"The Udaku family has never shunned nor stopped religious freedom from marginal religions—"

"Maybe in the past. Maybe when your father was King. But King T'Chaka…he is not so tolerant these days. He claims it is an affront to the crown, a wedge issue to fracture the power of his throne."

"You believe this, Sita? Speak freely."

"I believe what I see, and I have seen even moderate dissenters vilified by your brother."

"But jail-?"

"There was talk that one of the incarcerated planned to assassinate the King."

N'Jobu's body jerked when he heard that. His kimoyo beads heated up and N'Jobu tapped his earbud.

"T'Chaka," N'Jobu said.

Sita remained quiet while he took the call by audio only.

###

Califia carefully flipped over the waffle she made for Erik onto a plate.

"JaJa!"

She heard her son's feet running down the stairs, and by the time he reached the kitchen, she had his plate on the kitchen table next to a glass of grape juice.

"Hot off the griddle," she said.

Erik studied her face and she gave him a healthy smile. His face relaxed and he sat at the table.

She passed him the butter and syrup and helped herself to a piece of sausage. Erik watched her plate.

"Got my appetite back," she said.

He gave her some dimples and she forced herself to eat even though she really didn't want to. She made up her mind to force herself through this pain. She was hurt when N'Jobu told her that he wasn't sure that she could handle their household while he was gone. She counted on him to care for Erik while she fell apart, but it fractured their relationship when he treated her like an irresponsible child. Calling people to watch her and Erik when he left the house. Each time she cried, the look on his face made her feel like he wished she could just get over what happened to Lia quickly so that she could cater to him once more.

Their last night together before he left for Wakanda was pleasant, almost their regular interaction as a family. She worked hard to show him that she was capable of being present for their son. It was also the first time they had sex together since Lia's death, and she only did it to please him, to make him feel like she was okay even when she didn't feel okay. It took her a long time to get self-lubricated, but their kissing took up a lot of time and allowed her body to ease into sex before he could notice that her senses were not in tune with his.

N'Jobu kissed her mouth for a long time before his hands even reached for her breasts or even tried to touch her between her legs. He was so happy and touch-starved for her that his focus was on sections of her. Her lips. Her tongue. Her throat. The tender spots behind her ears. The space between her breasts. Her nipples. Her belly. Her inner thigh and hips.

He kissed and licked her vulva as if it was his first time being down there, and by then, she was wet enough to accommodate his desperate erection. The moans and raspy grunts that fell inside her ear as he pumped in an out of her pleased her. She could still take care of him physically even if she wasn't really there emotionally for him. She opened her legs wide and when she looked up into his face, it was contorted in deep pleasure. His forehead creased tighter and he was exhaling hard pants.

"Califia…Califia…"

Back in Brazil she was depressed, anxious, and scared about his leaving, hungry for any physical contact with him. But now? She was ready for him to leave. She needed to grieve longer without the judgment in his eyes, without him making her feel guilty if she broke down in the middle of the day.

She put her pussy on him thrust for thrust and held his shoulders, her breath coming out faster as she felt him reaching his peak.

"Daddy—"

N'Jobu's lips thrust out when she said that.

"You ready for Daddy to cum?"

"Yeah—"

"Tell Daddy you want him to cum—"

"Jobu—"

"Tell me Califia…baby…tell me…"

He was gasping, twisting her leg to get leverage for more friction.

"…this pussy…" he growled in her ear.

"Yeah," she exhaled.

She could feel the solid fullness that his dick always filled her up with, but she wasn't really feeling anything, not in the way she wanted to but could not reach because of the trauma she was clinging to. She wished she could let go like him. Use sex to get a mental release. Her body wasn't giving her any signs of wanting to orgasm. And N'Jobu's dick was going at her hard as fuck. Their bed was shaking.

She wanted this to end before she started crying in the way that would upset him. She cradled his head and pressed her lips close to his ear.

"Cum in your pussy, Daddy…"

She dragged out the word Daddy so that it sounded reckless and raw and she felt her man seize up tight then thrust his hips into her hard, his voice gone. The swelled pulses coming from his dick only secured the knowledge that a flood of hot semen was coating her insides. She would still be dripping his seed even when he was flying across the Atlantic. And a nut that good to him would only encourage him to seek more.

He kissed her lips and along her neck, and when he pulled out of her, his mouth sought to eat her folds to make her cum. But she pulled him back up and hugged him. Once he realized she didn't want any more sexual contact, he held her tight and rocked her in his arms.

"You okay?" he asked, kissing her cheek.

"I'm fine. I just want to make you feel good."

"Let me take care of you, baby."

"You did," she said playing with the thick ejaculate spilling from her pussy. His eyes watched her fingers and he stroked his dick.

"I'm going to miss you," he said, his voice getting tight from seeing her shove her fingers inside her pussy.

"I'll miss you too," she said.

She played with her pussy lips for him until he lost it.

"Look how you make me nut!" he cried out, shooting cum on her fingers as she held her labia open for him. He had soaked up their sheets with his sweat and cum, but he held her on top of him until he fell asleep. When he was softly snoring, she crawled off of him and showered. Cleaning her body, she let her tears fall with the warm water flowing over her.

Her thoughts snapped back to Erik, and she surprised herself by eating more than she thought she would. Maybe her appetite had finally returned. Maybe she could get it together while N'Jobu was gone.

"We're going to see Grandpop and Nana Jean today," she said.

"Cool," Erik said stuffing his mouth with waffle.

"Baba, leave a voice message yet?" she asked.

"No. He texted that he made it to Atlanta. I missed the call on my phone," he said.

Califia had checked her phone, but nothing was there. He probably thought she was sleeping in again. At least he texted. She knew he was in Amsterdam for a layover. He always sent an email from a burner account when he made it to Wakanda.

Erik was watching her again.

"What?" she asked smiling at him.

"Nothin'. You look happy."

"I am happy."

Erik picked at his plate unsure of something.

"We're going to be okay, baby."

"I know you miss Auntie Lia, Mom. I miss her too."

The sound of her name still hurt and Califia felt her eyes prick with water. She fought to be strong. Their first day alone together and she didn't want her son to feel unsure of her. She crammed a sausage in her mouth and picked up a glass of orange juice.

"Nana wants to know what you want for dinner."

"Pizza—"

"Pizza? Nana said she was cooking and you want pizza? Boy, are you crazy!"

Erik giggled. He drank his juice and pushed back his plate.

"Enchiladas."

"That's better," she said.

After she cleaned up the kitchen, she drove them over to her grandmother's and as they walked up the hill to reach the house, they found Dante inside the garage working on his latest project; restoring a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle, midnight black, a pure brute swinging 450-horsepower battle axe.

Dante was on a roller under the car when they saw him.

"Hey now!" he said.

"Grandpop!" Erik squealed.

Dante rolled out from under the car and picked Erik up. He gave Califia a kiss on her cheek and patted her shoulder.

"Looking good, Cali," he said.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"There's my baby!"

Nana Jean walked out from the front porch.

"Nana, stay up there, we'll come up," Califia said heading toward her grandmother.

Erik ran past her and hugged Nana Jean's waist.

"Dayclean make it okay?" she asked.

"Yes," Califia said.

"Good."

Nana Jean made Erik help her fold laundry while Califia cleaned up the kitchen for her grandmother to make her enchiladas later in the day. Keeping busy with her family kept her mind away from sadness and she felt good. Real good.

She went into the small family room to do some dusting of cobwebs and family photos and her eyes caught sight of an old picture on the fireplace mantle of her and N'Jobu on the porch holding Erik when he was a baby and Califia felt her chest grow tight.

Seeing N'Jobu's face took her breath away and she felt guilty. Guilty for not giving all of herself to him before he left. Not just her body and mind, but her spirit as well. Lia was about moving forward, no matter what, and Califia let herself get stuck because of the rage she still felt. Erik was so adorable as a baby and the memory of that day weighed on her. She had sent that exact picture to Lia and Soliel, and Lia had texted her the moment she received it and told her to raise her son up well and strong.

She pulled her cell from her jean pocket and called N'Jobu's burner phone. The voicemail picked up right away.

"N'Jobu…baby, I miss you. Call me when you make it there…when you can get privacy. We're over at Nana's and everything is good. I just…I want you to know that I'm here. I'm here for our son, and I'm here for myself. I'm here for you. I need to hear your voice, okay?"

She wiped away a tear and smiled, still looking at the picture and his beautiful face. Those gorgeous teeth. Those full lips. The lips he gave their little boy. Those eyes that Erik also had—

Her cell buzzed and she recognized the burner number. She swiped her screen.

"Califia."

His voice made her gasp. Erik walked up next to her.

"Mom…"

"It's Baba," she said, wrapping her arm around Erik's shoulder.

"I'm leaving for Wakanda soon. I'm so glad you called me," he said.

"Babe…I've been so lost since we came home. I know you have tried your best to be understanding. I was stuck—"

"I know, my love, I know—"

"I promise you that you can have faith in me getting through this—"

"If I made you feel—"

"I shut everything out and made you take care of everything. It wasn't right. I'm standing here in Nana's family room and she has the picture of you and me when we first brought Erik here. I saw your face, baby…I saw your face and I forgot that you need me too…"

She could hear his voice shuddering over the phone like she had made him cry. He exhaled hard.

"I love you," he said, his voice soft and full of longing.

"I love you too…hey, quickly, talk to Erik before you have to turn your phone off," she said.

She handed the phone to Erik.

"Baba…yes…yes. I will. Uh, huh. They are fine. I know…I will. I love you too. Okay…"

Erik handed the phone back to Califia. She wiped her eyes with her free hand. Her nose felt runny.

"My love. There are some potential problems back home. My brother has some political dissenters, so I may not be able to speak to you as often as you would like. But don't worry. I will text and email you when I can—"

"You'll be safe right?"

"I will be fine. My brother will need me around him more, and because of that, I won't have a lot of privacy for security reasons."

"Okay," she said. He had confidence in his voice, and she knew that once he was in Wakanda, he would have his Doras with him. And those sistas did not play.

"Tell me you love me again," he said.

"I love you…we both love you very much—"

"Bye, Baba!" Erik yelled into the phone.

"Until I see you both again. Be well, my love."

Her lip trembled a little when he was gone. She looked down at Erik.

"Shall we go help Grandpop with the car?"

Erik nodded. He threw his arms around her waist and pressed his head into her chest.

"Don't worry, Mom. Baba will be back soon."

She stroked his hair and kissed the top of his forehead.

###

For security precautions, N'Jobu was escorted into Wakanda over the border of Canaan inside a military Tusk Fighter aircraft instead of one of the Royal crafts. Once he was flown secretly into the country, he was driven by a super discreet convoy with Ometeko and Yejide by his side. His two faithful Doras were thrilled to see him, but also hyper vigilante in watching over him as they moved through several Birnans to get to the golden one of his birth.

His parents greeted him under the cover of darkness as he was ushered into the palace.

His mother could not stop touching him, exclaiming that he looked a bit worn. Lia's death and his family struggles hovered over him, but speaking to Califia and Erik earlier in the day made him feel confident that he could get through this check-in.

As he walked through the palace and headed up to his brother's private suite, he thought of Califia and how their last night together was so one-sided in affection. He wanted her so bad that night.

After he had put Erik to bed and joined Califia in their bedroom, she was fully naked under the covers. He hadn't seen or felt her nude body in so long that the moment he slipped under the covers and felt her naked thigh and hip touch him, the thickening of his penis didn't take long. When she had allowed him to penetrate her, it felt different. She was going through the motions but he couldn't quite get her to connect with his pleasure. They had always had the ability to create a mesmerizing feedback loop in their intimacy, but that time, it didn't happen. Instead of stopping, he became selfish and took what she gave because he missed her sexually. He needed her body. He needed to feel her tight ring of muscles surrounding his manhood. He needed to feel those big tits and see them bouncing. He needed to feel his semen spurting inside of her, his sack draining weeks of build-up. He let his desire for her override any reason to stop and make sure she matched his vibe.

At that moment, the sex was great for him, but it was like the sex he had while in school; all about the pleasure that his dick got without concerns about love or the other emotional aspects of two humans connecting. They didn't make love. He just fucked her. And he was all about the fucking because he hadn't had it in so long.

But talking to her…hearing her tell him that she would be fine…she made him cry. She made him determined to push forth and plan the best strategy to free them all.

The elevator ride up to T'Chaka's suite felt long, but once he stepped out with Ometeko and Yejide by his side, his dip had returned to his step. His entrance into T'Chaka's private quarters was full of confidence.

"Uncle N'Jobu!"

T'Challa's voice surprised him and when N'Jobu turned to look at his nephew, his eyes grew wide for a second at how much older he looked. The twelve-year-old appeared before him in his royal purple pajamas, his once full head of curly hair cut short and tapered. His voice even sounded different. Clearly, puberty was upon him. N'Jobu's heart ached staring at him. He held out his arms and his nephew ran into them, hugging him hard.

"My nephew! What are you doing up so late?"

"I wanted to see you as soon as you arrived. I have missed you so much, Uncle!"

"Oh! How I have missed you too!"

N'Jobu saw his brother enter the room. No smile on his face. Just worry. And something else. Indignation.

N'Jobu saw another young boy standing off to the side, his big round eyes shyly watching N'Jobu as if he were in awe.

"And who is this?" N'Jobu asked, waving his hand for the child to step forward.

"W'Kabi, stop acting scared. It is only my Uncle. Uncle N'Jobu, this is my best friend, W'Kabi," T'Challa said.

"W'Kabi…W'Kabi? Why do I know your name?" N'Jobu asked. He could see the child wearing a blue night robe with the Border Tribe's dark blue sigil sewn into the collar. A horseman with a fluttering blanket wrapped around the shoulders.

"My father protects the borderlands, Your Highness," the boy said. He bowed his head to N'Jobu.

"Tankiso is his father,' T'Chaka said.

N'Jobu did his best to keep his reaction neutral. He knew the boy's father. Tankiso would be N'Jobu's inside man to help him smuggle the Vibranium out of Wakanda and into Niganda with Klaue when the time came.

"Pleased to meet you, W'Kabi," N'Jobu said. He held out his hand to shake, and W'Kabi stared at T'Challa first and then T'Chaka.

"Do not be foolish, W'Kabi, you can shake my Uncle's hand. He is a Prince like me. Not the King!" T'Challa laughed.

W'Kabi smiled and took N'Jobu's hand. It was a firm handshake and N'Jobu was impressed by the confidence he felt there.

"Alright, boys. Off to bed now. Prince N'Jobu and I must talk," T'Chaka said heading toward his private bar.

"Goodnight, Uncle," T'Challa said hugging N'Jobu once more. W'Kabi bowed and N'Jobu watched the two children leave the suite followed by T'Challa's personal Dora.

"They are like brothers," T'Chaka said handing N'Jobu a small glass of plum liquor.

Brothers.

If Erik were here, he would probably join along with his cousin, the three boys staying up late and giggling, maybe even running around the palace in secret like he and T'Chaka did when they were young boys long ago.

N'Jobu sipped the plum liquor thinking of his son. Erik would wear the silk robes of the Golden Tribe, N'Jobu's family sigil sewn into the collar. He could imagine hearing the sound of Erik's sweet laughter ricocheting off the high walls and ceilings of the Eastern Palace. The soft patter of Califia's feet would probably echo in the halls as she would no doubt be the one to hustle the boys back to bed. For a second, N'Jobu closed his eyes and tried to see her wearing his royal robes and returning to the large bed in his suite down below. He so wanted to make real love to her again. Body and soul together.

"No problems getting into the country, Baby Brother?"

"No," N'Jobu said opening his eyes back up and finishing the plum liquor.

"Sit," T'Chaka said.

N'Jobu padded over to the couch near the expansive window that reflected the twinkling of city lights below.

"Things are not well here."

"I have been made aware," N'Jobu said.

"Your thoughts?"

"I am shocked that the one man you have imprisoned, the one they say tried to plot an assassination…what proof do you really have to keep him incarcerated—"

"Proof? Are you implying that I would just throw someone into confinement just on a whim?"

"From what I have gathered on my own there has only been speculation and flexing—"

"Would you have me wait for outright harm to come to me or to someone in our family first?"

"Of course not—"

"Then why question my rule?"

"Will this man have a trial?"

T'Chaka waved his hand at N'Jobu.

"Enough. No more talk of this. It is not your concern."

T'Chaka poured more plum liquor into his glass and he held up the bottle for N'Jobu.

N'Jobu took the bottle and poured more in his own glass. They both sipped and eyed each other. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," T'Chaka said.

Whoa.

A voluptuous young woman with flashing eyes stepped into the room wearing a long mauve River Tribe styled evening tunic.

"Your Highness," she said, keeping her eyes respectfully downcast when she saw N'Jobu. She was beautiful, her hair tied back allowing her thick braids to fall down her back and N'Jobu knew exactly what she was there for.

"Prince N'Jobu, let us speak more in the morning. Breakfast with Baba and Umama in the sunroom?"

"Yes," N'Jobu said, standing up. He glanced at the woman again and he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over what his brother was playing with at night. He knew for a fact that T'Chaka had several women in rotation for many years. It drove their parents crazy. Umama in particularly hated mistresses being anywhere near the palace, no matter who they were messing around with. Rumor had it that their own father tried to have a young plaything early in his marriage to their mother, but Umama took an ancient knife that allegedly belonged to the very first Black Panther, Bashenga, and threatened to cut off his scrotum and end the entire royal line of Udaku forever if he ever brought another woman into the palace. The fact that he and T'Chaka existed let N'Jobu know that his Baba must've stayed on the straight and narrow. There was no doubt that his mother would kill their father and any woman he had back then or now.

No wonder they wanted T'Chaka married again.

"This is Dineo. She will accompany you to your suite."

N'Jobu's eyes widened.

"A nice homecoming companion for you. It must be tough to find a beauty like this out there," T'Chaka said winking.

Crude. Distasteful. What was this? From his own brother?

Dineo allowed her eyes to rest on N'Jobu's face and he saw her lips part when she got a good look at him.

"Goodnight, T'Chaka," N'Jobu said putting his drink glass on the bar and leaving the room. Dineo followed him and Yejide followed them both.

When N'Jobu reached the private elevator, he turned to her.

"I do not need you," he whispered discreetly so Yejide didn't hear. Not that she didn't already know what Dineo was there for.

"I must accompany you to your suite regardless. The King has demanded this. Please, do not cause me trouble, Your Highness."

Dineo rode the elevator with him down to his suite.

When they reached the outside of his quarters, Ometeko looked shocked to see Dineo at his heels.

"Do not ask," he said to Ometeko as he swept into his space.

Dineo was right behind him when the doors swung shut.

"I am here. You can leave," he said, surprised that the woman even stepped into his private sphere.

Dineo fingered her braids and then allowed her long lashes to flutter as she placed her gaze fully on his face, all pretense of deference gone. She wanted to be there with him. Gently tugging on the clasps that held her tunic closed, the loose clothing dropped to her feet.

Shit.

Her nipples stood at attention as she played with them, and all those curves that the tunic hinted at earlier were more than true once fully revealed.

"I am here for you, Your Highness," she whispered.

"I understand that, however—"

"I hear you are known to make women cry when you make love to them, Your Highness."

He hadn't had sex with a woman in Wakanda for almost a decade.

"Dineo—"

"I have heard all the stories from here to Azania about you. I want you to make me cry," she said stepping toward him.

If this were another time, he would be all over this girl and rearranging her insides. But he had a woman at home that knocked him off of his feet, even five thousand miles away.

He turned his back on her and headed to his bedroom.

"Do not make me have you escorted out, Dineo," he tossed over his shoulder as he pressed his kimoyo beads opening his suite's front doors.

"Your Highness," Ometeko called into the space without entering.

"Please see to it that Dineo makes it back to her own home," N'Jobu said before slamming his bedroom door shut.

###

"N'Jobu."

His body relaxed when he saw Califia's face on his computer.

She was snug in their bed inside their townhouse.

"Erik is still asleep. Do you want me to wake him?"

"No, let him sleep. I sent him a recorded video for him to see when he wakes."

"How are things?"

"I'm still feeling things out. My brother is dealing with some political dissenters, some policy changes...blah, blah, blah." He tried to make things sound mundane to comfort her.

"You're not tired? You should be exhausted."

"I am," he said.

"It's raining here," she said, "a good clean rain. Everything smells so good outside."

"You sound well, my love."

"It's the rain. It makes me feel brand new. But it's not the same without you here to enjoy it with me."

She sat up in bed and he saw that she was nude.

"Baby, really? You know I'm on the other side of the world and you sit up there onscreen with those beautiful tits teasing me?"

She fondled her nipples for him.

"You're killing me over here," he said.

She really was, he felt his cock fatten in his pants.

"Let me really put you six feet under then," she said, peeling back the covers, showing him already plump glistening folds.

"Were you playing with yourself?"

"Mmmhmmm, right before you called," she sighed, her fingers plying her labia open.

"Fuck…Califia…"

N'Jobu groaned loud in his room and yanked down his pants.

Three fingers deep, Califia fingerfucked herself for him as he damn near stroked all the skin off of his dick.

When she came calling his name while staring at him, her legs spread wide, he shot thick ropes of his own cum onto his chest. He fell asleep to the sound of the rain falling on their skylight and her fingers playing with her clit ring, her voice softly telling him she loved him.

It was a blissful rest.

Chapter 21 HERE.

[yllowpages]

pats lia on the head

          Her nose wrinkles at the feeling, but don't get it twisted — there's a kind of enjoyable smile on her face. She knows it's in good fun ( at least she tries her hardest to take most things ' in good fun ' ) . Her nose relaxes and Lia looks up at him ( up, of course ) and narrows her eyes, just barely, while she keeps that upturn in the corners of her lips. “ Do you enjoy it up there? ” she asks, teasing ( all in good fun ) . “ Is it nice reaching all the tall shelves? You feel proud of yourself lording over us little guys? ”

[yllowpages]

hey, do you want me to spill red wine on her very expensive dress, because I'll totally spill red wine on her very expensive dress. --- jordan to lia about lauren

            She almost looks intrigued for a second, almost like she’s imagining what that would be — but immediately comes back off that cloud. Lia stabs her fork back into her bowl of mac and cheese and shakes her head :  “ No ... That’d be like ... stooping to her level, you know? Right? ”  She takes a bite and sighs, then looks back at Jordan.  “ But, like — could you do it? ”  Okay, now some mixed signals are starting to come into play. Lia’s brows raise a little bit while she chews.  “ Like don’t, but, hypothetically — realistically — how would you do it? ”

              Lia pulls her feet up onto the couch, still ... considering this apparently when she says,  “ Would it be the classic  ‘ oh no, we bumped into each other and now my drink is all over you ’  or the slightly more contemporary  ‘ I’m just going to throw my drink on you because I don’t like you and I’m making sure you and everyone else in this room knows that ’  ? ”  She isn’t being serious  ( there’s an ... eighty percent chance she’s not serious )  , but it’s fun for her to imagine it least. Who knows ... ? Maybe one day Lia will be the one to actually throw a drink on her. She puts a single piece of macaroni on each prong of the fork in her hand and then adds,  “ And, again, this is a hypothetical because you’re not doing it, Jordan, but, hypothetically, would we be able to get this on camera so I could watch it back? ”  She’s joking.  ( Most likely. ) 

@survivur​

[yllowpages]

“ I just want to feel normal again. ”

              It’s the crack in her voice that makes Lia wince. It’s not even her pain but she hurts for her. Is that selfish? Is it empathetic? Maybe it doesn’t matter. She can remember what Jordan was like just a few months ago, before so much was drained from her. She can’t imagine what it was like, going through that — and she doesn’t want to — but she also can’t stand looking at Jordan like this.  ( Maybe that is selfish ... )  

              Everyone has bad days, it’s just Jordan’s seem ... worse than most when it comes down to it — at least from where she’s standing. Lia, in part, feels a little helpless, but knows that all she can do is be there, lend a hand, lend a shoulder to cry on — all of those old sayings. That’s why she’s sitting on the edge of Jordan’s dorm room bed, frowning softly. Lia takes a breath and sighs, looking down at her hands in her lap :  “ I know I’m going to sound like literally everyone you’ve ever talked to but ... it’s not going to be like this forever. ”

              She can’t be sure that that’s helpful or reassuring — she can only hope. Lia tucks some hair behind her ear and looks at Jordan, still lying in her bed.  “ I mean — one day, you’re going to wake up, get dressed, go to your fancy Broadway gig that you’re totally going to get, and you’ll realize you didn’t even think about it. At all. ”  She turns toward Jordan a little bit more, her brows raising as her expression warms a little.  “ And it won’t be gone but ... it’ll be better. You know? ”   She offers some sort of small smile, to make up for whatever reassurance she isn’t giving, and then puts her hand on Jordan’s shoulder for a second.  “ I brought banana bread, by the way — you wanna watch a movie and stuff our faces? ”

@survivur​

[yllowpages]

❝ Oh, don't deny it! ❞

❝ Deny?! ❞ It's almost like she's offended by the word. Lia makes a face at it and everything — not that Josie can see from where she's sitting. She continues weaving hair over and under itself for the French braid pigtails that were requested. ❝ I'm not denying anything! ❞ she insists as best she can since an elastic hair-tie being held in her front teeth. Lia secures the end of the braid with one hand and grabs the elastic, tying it around the end and adding, ❝ Just — as a rule, I don't deny things. I ignore them. Because then — you know — I can claim ignorance. ❞ ( A real fool-proof technique. )

And even while Lia sections out the other half of Josie's hair, it's like she can feel those eyes on her. And for such a small person ... Josie's tough as hell. ( They know each other too well ; Josie sees right through her for sure. ) Lia's even ready to crack under the pressure — and she's practically creating it in her head! Can she even be blamed for just feeling like the initial catalyst just sort of ... caught her off-guard. ( Like she's in sixth grade again and someone made that list of every classmate that everyone had a crush on — and they never found the culprit ... ) Who wouldn't pull a ' WHAT? ' when conversationally flash-banged with that.

❝ Even if I wanted to deny anything — which I'm not — it's just ... ❞ She isn't doing a very good job explaining the situation. Or her ... feelings. ( How does she feel? ... It's nice when she hangs out with him ; she's comfortable around him ; she ... looks at him a certain way now, maybe ... ) Lia's chewing the inside of her cheek, a little lost in her own head. ❝ It's diff— I don't know. ❞ ( Claim ignorance. ) She grabs a second elastic sitting on the couch cushion next to her and ties off the second braid. ❝ It's not that. ❞ ( So much for the ignorance plan. )

@decimatlas / josie emerson.

[decimatlas]

❝ this year is my year. i can feel it. ❞   ( to jo from lia )

❛ With a script like this, it definitely is. ❜ Jo holds the papers up in the air, waving them around with such pride for her friend. She has that same deep-rooted good feeling in her gut that Lia seems to have, and she intends on riding that high with her. So, she places the script down and holds her hands out to grab Lia's shoulders. ❛ Let's get ice cream to celebrate you finishing your script. My treat for Lia Ferris, world-renown screenwriter! ❜

[yllowpages]

[ nurse ] for one muse to take care of the other while they’re sick

Day Two in bed : she's getting real antsy. She's eaten maybe three things in the last forty-eight hours on account of whatever stomach bug decided to bring her daily life to a halt. ( Maybe it was a sign ... one big, very tired, very nauseous ' slow down! ' sign. ) Lia yawns and seems to sink even further down into the pillows and blankets she's buried under and surrounded by. Even if she's resting, nice and reclined on the couch, she has her laptop out and she's doing as much work as she can ( emails, emails, rewrites, rewrites — ) . Part of her is even fighting off sleep for some reason, so she's stopped paying attention to the movie on in the background.

But her eyes blink hard and shoot open when there's a heavy knock at the apartment door. She props herself up enough to glance at the door ( not that she can see through it ) and then she settles back down as she calls out, exhausted, ❝ If it's important, you know about the key! ❞ then returns her focus to her laptop screen. And for a second, there's nothing ... Then there's more knocking, but not on her door. Some talking she can't really make out and then finally she can hear the lock on her door being jostled. ( Maybe she should be more concerned about it, but she trusts her security system ; it's a tried and true method. )

She hears the door open and close. ' Your neighbor's really scary, did you know that? ' her guest notes. ( Brock. ) Lia smiles lightly to herself, still nestled down in her nest, apparently having used all of her remaining energy to look at the door. ❝ Good, because I'm literally trusting her with my life here, ❞ she responds. ❝ She's tough for being seventy-four with a bad hip — did you tip her, by the way? ❞ And she can almost sense his split second of confusion until he catches that it was a joke.

Before she knows it, Brock's at her bed- ( couch ) -side and asking how she's doing, to which she can give a vague noise and a shrug. She does, indeed, still feel like shit ... but it's nice to have a visitor. And he didn't come just to give her the ' get well ' schtick either, apparently ; he's holding a container of what looks to be soup — ' I thought you could use something to eat. ' She'll still ask ❝ Is that for me? ❞ though, almost incredulously. And right after his confirmation ( her heart melts a little ) , she has a follow-up question : ❝ Did you make it? ❞ He looks very proud of himself when he says ' yep ' and Lia can't help but let out a little, ❝ Aw .... ❞ She has this sort of regretful, puppy-dog look on her face — like she's sad.

❝ Thanks, ❞ is all she can muster out after that ( she's still working on the whole ' knowing how to respond when people are nice to her ' thing ) . ❝ But I think I have to — you know — pass ... for now ... ❞ Lia looks at him, apologetic ( she'll spare him the details of what happened the last time she tried to eat and drink anything other than dry crackers and water ) . She can't believe he came all the way over here ... just to give her soup ... She tries to sit up just a little bit more, pushing pillows with her elbow to support her back more. ❝ You wanna stay for the rest of the movie, though? ❞ She shuts her laptop, seeming just a little more awake now. ❝ I wouldn't mind some company. ❞ ( It's ' Die Hard ' , by the way. )

@decimatlas / brock emerson.

[decimatlas]

@yllowpages​ replied to this post: lia thinks this is his best look

❛ You could be Glinda. Well, Galinda. Then Glinda. ❜

[yllowpages]

❝ you think you’re gonna miss it ? ❞

❝ Is saying ' more than anything ' too much? ❞ She asks it like a real question, like she's actually wondering. How much sentimentality is too much? Is she already looking back on this with rose-tinted glasses? Or did she really, truly enjoy those dozens of sleepless nights? The mad dashes to write her papers and do her projects when she spent so much time stressing about the show that she forgot to stress about her actual degree ... And how could she forget those moments where nobody clapped? Just the awkward silence while staring out in the audience before walking off. ( So much to choose from. )

Lia leans back a little further into the couch moving the bowl of popcorn onto the cushion in between them. She focuses on the TV, just ... thinking — they're watching the most recent ( and one of the last ) shows of ' Could Be Better ' since Jordan couldn't be there. A smile creeps onto her face, small. Bittersweet. It's like she realizes in that moment that it's all ending. The writing all-nighters ( with Eddy trying, every time, to rename that to ' all-writers ' ) , creating and pasting fliers all over campus at the last second on show day, making absolutely whatever they want to make ( almost no holds barred ) ; feeling like they have their whole lives ahead of them ... ( One last hurrah. ) ❝ But yeah, ❞ she answers. She turns to Jordan more now, studying her for just a second ... Lia almost wonders if she should even ask this question ; it's ... broad. Best case scenario, they reminisce. Worst case ... Well — She's just going to hope for the former. ❝ What about you? ❞

@1nfamed