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misterewrites · 3 years ago

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A Part of Something Bigger (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here, hoping you are safe and sound and doing good! The new chapter of the Underground is here and I'm excited for this and the next chapter. I am so happy I finally get to reveal something I’ve had in my head since I first started creating the Underground! Man am I cheek E. oh puns, I’m terrible.

I hope you are all have a great week! Stay safe, wash your hands, take care of each other, get the vaccine if you can, push for companies to give it world wide all that jazz. Feel free to comment (I love feedback) tell your friends, reblog I appreciate it all!

If you’re new and curious what the heck I’m talking about, feel free to check out the whole story and have access to my other work right in the link below (cuz I’m 95% Tumblr has shadowbanned me)

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967 (first chapter)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/78927370 (latest chapter)

Have a great week, E is out!

Summary: Turns out Oliver is a part of the Choir, a secret organization that operates within the Underground. Something big is happening tonight and It's up to Oliver and his allies to ensure it does not. However, the bard has to figure out what's going on before anything else.

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Oliver had been many things in the 18 years of his begrudging existence: An orphan, a thief, a con-kid, hopelessly in love, a scout, fry cook that one week and an aspiring minstrel. Many masks and different roles to survive each new day.

The one he took a quiet pride in was being a member of the Choir, a secret organization whose goal was to keep the Underground free from malicious and devious intent.

Every society had their dark, treacherous shadows where evil did its business (Oliver assumed. He only really ever lived in the Underground but you know universal constants and such.) The Choir’s purpose was to ensure those plans never came to fruition.

Rather than being an openly known identity, the Choir was more a loose collection of independent agents operating under secrecy. The organization employed any and everyone who was willing to fight for the cause, each in their own way: Merchants passed coded information, tavernkeepers offered safe havens, those with some level of magical proficiency gathered to study abnormal phenomenon. Fighters fought, clerics healed with lords and ladies used their influence for the greater good.

Sometimes, as is the case now, one individual was too limited for what was required of the organization’s purpose. In these rare moments, agents were granted permission to request help, often leaving hidden messages and imagery for other wandering members to respond to.

That’s what brought Oliver here to this dark alley in the middle of the night: When he first arrived to the capital, he caught sight of the coded symbol asking for any Choir member to lend their skill set to a mission tonight. No details added but that was par for the course.

Terri was the first to recover, her slivers eyes wide with wonder “A soprano? No joke?!Flora, he’s like you!”

Terri was tall, taller than anyone else here. She wore a red vest with torn off sleeves, probably because her muscles were too thick to actually allow them to exist in the first place. Her long jet black hair was elegantly tied into braids with her dark blue leggings tucked into thick hiking boots.

Flora pursed her lips thoughtfully, irises of lavender giving Oliver a curious look “A fellow magic user? Interesting. Wizard?”

“Bard” Oliver corrected “You?”

“Druid.” Flora spoke before drifting into an uncomfortable silence. Oliver suspected she wasn’t impressed by his response.

Flora seemed unassuming but Oliver knew better than to be lured in by appearances: Long silvery hair with petals of green and yellow flowers scattered within. She wore a white blouse with splotches of brown dirt and a long green skirt. Her feet were bare and free to be soiled by the floor.

Terri rushed over to the petrified Tyrell, dragging him into a bone crunching hug “Tyrell here is a baritone like me!”

Tyrell, the youngest beside Oliver, shifted his brown eyes away from anyone’s gaze. He wore rather well kept clothes: A tunic of purple tucked under a leather vest, his leggings were dark gray that blended fairly well in the darkness. His footwear seemed a little too fancy to be workman’s shoes.

“Fighters” Oliver nodded in understanding “Always useful. And you mysterious stranger in the darkness?”

The cloaked figure had pulled back deeper into the shadows, red eyes gleaming in the shades of night. They were trying to hard to hide their appearance but Oliver caught sight of a smooth featureless bronze face. Metallic armor of a matching color and sheen covered the rest of their body, an automaton it seems.

“You may call me Sel. I’m a tenor.” the figure responded, their voice tinged with scratchy static.

“You are going very useful. Lockpicking?”

Sel shrugged casually “Among other less savory techniques. As per usual for tenors.”

Oliver nodded “Okay, fill me in.”

Flora took a step forward, pulling a letter out of her pocket as she did so “Are you aware of one Reiner Brambleoak?”

“Oh fucking hell” Oliver rubbed his eyes tiredly “Him again? What’s he planning this time: Gonna burn an orphanage? Or maybe sell moldy food to the poor? Wait, I know!” Oliver snapped his finger “He’s going to be a terrible piece of shit.”

“Right on the money!” Terri growled.

Sel let out a mechanical click “He is planning to tear down several homes in West Haven.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes “I thought it was illegal to tear down homes in that area?”

“Not if the owners signed them over.” Flora explained “Then he would have the authority to do whatever he wished with them.”

“Let me guess, he tricked them?”

Terri flexed her muscles angrily “His representatives would change languages and double talk when they spoke to the poor folks. Most hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on and the orc thugs his people brought didn’t exactly make them feel warm and safe.”

“So.” Oliver stretched his arms “He’s strong armed his way into property, going to evict helpless folks onto the street and probably fill them with his own thugs to get the rest of the neighborhood to fall in line.”

“Unless we stop him.” Sel spoke with righteous fury.

“Tonight.” Oliver chimed in “Throwing another party?”

“You are good.” Tyrell whistled.

Oliver gave a playful wink “Naturally. What’s the plan?”

Flora reached into her pack and handed Oliver a letter: it was written in such a fancy hand he swore he was getting a headache just looking at it.

“One for each of us.” Flora explained, distributing the rest to the others “A fellow Choir member secured these tonight’s mission.”

“Helpful. Alright here’s the plan….”

“Wait” Flora interrupted “Who said you are in charge bard?”

“Me” Oliver countered with a grin “Because I’ve been to these types of festivities. Have any of you?”

Flora opened her mouth then promptly closed it, irritation in her glance. Tyrell gave a sheepish but unhelpful smile, Sel remained silent while Terri gave a thoughtful scratch of her chin.

“Thought so.” Oliver tried to keep the smugness out of his voice “Look we just need to work together for tonight.”

“Agreed.” Flora spoke with a softness that did not match her glare.

Sel inched closer to the group “What is the plan Oliver?”

“Where’s the party? Merchant Ward? I assume he’s using his office to host it.”

“Correct” Sel confirmed “His office has been chosen as the venue. He claims to be throwing the party as some sort of fundraiser for a charity that is no doubt a front for his illegal operations.”

Terri huffed, crossing her arms furiously “Probably making some more deals to trick people out of their hard earn money.”

“Without a doubt” Oliver agreed “But without any hard proof, we’re not taking him down tonight. Our mission is to ensure those contracts he forced people to sign mysteriously disappear.”

“Will that actually stop him?” Tyrell frowned unhappily “What’s stop him from forging new ones? Or just bullying people again?”

“He can’t forge new ones” Oliver explained carefully “They’re a special type of document only found here in Haven’s Nest. You can only get them from city hall and they’re magically enchanted to be untamperable with. He’ll need to get the ones he has to city hall on open court day which I assume is soon.”

“Indeed. Tomorrow in fact.”

Oliver continued on “So since open court day is the only day any major changes are allowed to be introduced to the city, if we grab them he’ll have to wait a month for another chance of snatching up that land. He’ll no doubt try to bully the folks again but now that they know what he’s up to, hopefully they’ll won’t be as easily pressured and if a few rough looking folks who can take punches and give them back start hanging around the neighborhood when his goons come knocking again…”

“They’re gonna be less eager” Terri cracked her knuckles cheerfully, already savoring the feel of bruised skin and broken bones that would bless her hands.

Oliver caught Tyrell’s eyes “One problem at a time. If you look at the mountain, you’re going to get scared.”

Tyrell nodded timidly in agreement.

“So.” Sel’s voice crackled with curiosity “What is the plan bard?”

Oliver closed his eyes, mentally mapping out the Brambleoak bank: three stories of corrupted, immoral finance who preyed on the helpless and lost. He could still see the faded green hue and cracked paint of the building in his mind’s eye. The ground floor would no doubt be where the bulk of the party would be taking place: a large space with an elevated stage normally reserved for long winded speeches could easily repurposed for a band or some sort of entertainment. His guests would range from any and everyone with any amount of influence or wealth. The second floor were the offices of his lecherous employees while his office took up the entirety of the third floor.

“Alright” Oliver spoke after a moment “I have a good idea what to expect. We’re going to break up into two teams.”

Everyone stared him expectedly.

Oliver gestured to Terri and Tyrell “You two are going to hang out at the bar across the street: The Stinkeye. Charming place, ran by a former pirate captain. Sunday is sea shanty night I think."

“Whoa, wait a minute” Terri grumbled unhappily “I am not letting Flora go into that place without me! It’s enemy turf and I don’t feel comfortable with the idea."

Flora took Terri’s hand within her own “Agreed sweetie.”

“Look this isn’t exactly a fist loaded, knives out situation. Any sort of brawling inside will be dealt with swiftly and painfully. Brambleoak doesn’t like anything scaring away the prey and causing a scene inside won’t accomplish anything. Outside, however.”

Terri’s eyes knowingly sparkled, Tyrell just looked dumbfounded.

Oliver gestured with his hand, muttering a phrase under his breath as magic formed around his hand in a golden light. A small image appeared in his palm: A heavily scarred elf with ashy blonde hair, one eye a brilliant forest green the other dull and cloudy. He wore an elegant officer’s uniform, dark green with various medals pinned to his chest with a long flowing red cape that trailed behind.

Oliver opened mouth to speak but Terri’s low snarl beat him to the punch.

“Lea Foot.”

“Acquaintance I guess?””

Flora nodded, gently squeezing Terri’s hand to get her to calm down “Lea has been a constant thorn in our sides. I believe he suspects we are a part of some greater organization. He has never seen us but he sends his underlings to bully us.”

“So I don’t need to explain his whole mercenaries for hire deal. Been exclusive to Brambleoak for a while now.”

“Can I punch him?” Terri murmured darkly.

“Yes, can she?” Flora chimed in, unable to keep the plead out of her voice.

Oliver shook his head “Maybe but we’ll see. He’s gotta show up at some point but I doubt he’ll be there right at the start. Likes to push old people around, probably eat a child or two before ‘working.’ Your job is to keep him distracted at all costs. He’s a sick man that likes to watch a good fight and the longer he’s out there, the better chance we’ll have.”

Sel tilted their head quizzically “Why is it important to keep him outside?”

“Basically” Oliver cracked his fingers “He’s very perceptive and the person most likely to catch our plan in action. His crew is made up of a nobodies with a perchance for cruelty and a thirst for violence but Lea is an old hand. Keeping himself outside is the best chance for success and if you guys accidentally get too close and managed to stray a hit his way…”

Terri chuckled manically the idea. Tyrell just looked sick.

“Meanwhile Flora, Sel and I will be inside. We’ll be looking for a chance to get Sel into the stairway so he can break into Brambleoak’s office. Without any sort of information, there’s no point to flesh out a full plan but we’ll make it up as we go. It’s a giant party of people who think they’re special. Shouldn’t be too hard to cause some drama and distractions.”

Flora said silent for a moment before speaking up “It’s not a lot to work with but admittedly better than anything I would’ve come up with.”

“Agreed.” Sel added “Without proper intel, it would be pointless to attempt to formulate any sort of long term plan. This works best to our strengths. Wait and create an opportunity,”

“That’s on us.” Oliver cut in “Your job is to get in and out. Preferably without being seen but who knows what will happen.”

The group, previously lost and anxious, glowed with renew sense of purpose and determination: 10 minutes ago they had no plan and now they were ready to do what they signed up for.

“Get ready team” Oliver gestured about “We leave in five.”

Everyone broke away to prepare for the mission: Terri cracked every bone in her body, ready for any brawl she would start. Sel slunk back into the shadows and remained still among the darkness. Tyrell held leaned unevenly against the brick building nearby, trying to steady his breathing.

Flora, on the other hand, approached Oliver, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Oliver.”

“Flora.”

“I have a question for you.”

Oliver was confused “I’m not sure what about but go ahead.”

Flora pursed her lips “You were coming from West End, delivering a package to a Choir member out there correct?”

“Yeeeeees.” Oliver unsure where this was going “The old man. Lady Rozalin said it was the upmost importance.”

Flora bit her cheek nervously “Before you left, did you see him?”

His stomach turned cold as he remembered how uneasy he felt the day he left with Archie and Abigail, the chill that ran down his spine “No, why?”

“We haven’t been able to contact him. He is not responding to our wizards long range message spells. We’re…..worried.”

Oliver could feel his skin crawl with anxiety, his pulse raced as a horrible realization dawned on him.

“He’s missing.” Oliver spoke what Flora did not.

She nodded in response “As a high ranking member, he is important to our cause and since you were the last person to see him, the higher ups were wondering if anything suspicious happened the last day you spoke with him.”

Oliver remembered it clearly: The free money, rushing them out the door, his ‘tiredness.’ There was no such thing as free money in his mentor’s eyes and Roland was never known for pushing a guest out of his house or being tired in the middle of the day. He was attempting to get them to leave to prevent something from happening.

“He was acting weird.” Oliver admitted “At the time I found it strange but he gave me little room to argue. Now I’m wishing I had.”

Flora’s face was indifferent but Oliver could hear the sincerity in her voice “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this. If you need a moment…”

“No” Oliver cut her off quickly “I’m good. We have a mission to do and we need to focus on that now. Afterwards we can talk about finding out what happened to the old man.”

Flora gave a simple nod before wandering over to Terri’s side, lightly kissing her cheek with affection.

Oliver took a deep calming breath: There was no point to let his mind wander, to worry about things out of his control. Even if he wanted to do something, he was needed here and now. Besides the Choir would investigate Roland’s disappearance and there were agents far more experienced than he about.

He would leave it up to them. For the moment he needed to balance out the universe and root out the evil that laid in the shadows.

#Original Work #original story #my story #welcome to the underground

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sablelab · 4 years ago

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Covert Operations - Chapter 137

SUMMARY: When new intel comes to light about the mole Frank Wolverton-Randall, Fergus is buoyed by what he discovers. He goes to Madeline’s Office where Section’s leaders are waiting for him, with a progress report and tells Operations and Madeline of his findings and they are gobsmacked to know the identity of the mole in Section. They reflect on their dealings with Frank in order to make sense of his hatred for them as well.

WOO! HOO! I missed my 2 year Anniversary of posting this story at the end of July (Chapter 135(S) ) so I just wanted to give a shout out to all who have at one time or another … ever read one, or more, or all of my chapters over this time, left kudos, a like, a comment, reblogged the chapters or contacted me via a DM. THANK YOU ALL … SO MUCH. Much love to each and every one my readers YAY!

Chapter 136 (S-NSFW) and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations Sorry to say I am not on Ao3, but perhaps when I finish this story I will try and navigate how it works and how to post there.

CHAPTER 137

During the week Fergus Claudel was busy, as usual, at his computer collating any last-minute details in his report for Operations and Madeline about the mole. He wanted to make sure that he had all his t’s crossed and his i’s dotted before he presented the intel to his leaders. He’d been exhausted when he’d eventually left Comm. last night, but he’d certainly slept well knowing that what he had to show his superiors today would be most pleasing to them. Hopefully the Intel would also help reverse his pal’s fiancée’s evaluation status. He was totally convinced that his data would be just what Operations and Madeline were looking for. Absorbed in his task he was unaware that Murtagh Fitzgibbons had walked up behind him. The first indication that he realised that he was not alone was the sound of something being dropped onto his desk and a familiar voice saying, “Open it.” After the initial shock of being crept up on registered in his brain, Fergus looked down at his desk and saw a hard, plastic case containing a computer disk. He picked it up and immediately his eyes lit up when he realized what he held in his hands. The computer geek couldn’t contain his excitement.

“No! … No way!” he exclaimed in shock and excitement. “Yes,” Murtagh replied very pleased that at his buddy’s reaction. Fergus was chuffed at the gift as if his best mate had given him the most precious of items on the top of his wish list. “Oh ... this is awesome!” The older operative was delighted at his friend’s reaction to his surprise gift. “First off the line ... and you can retrain the display ... as much as you want without losing data.” “Oh, wow! Thanks,” Fergus replied unable to stop looking at the gift his buddy had given him. “No ... no, thank you,” Murtagh answered back thinking that it was the least he could do to repay his friend for all the help he had given him. “For what?” Fergus asked realising that no favour he might have done warranted such an awesome gift of thanks. “For Bóinne. Things went great on our date. I also saw this little black cat jewellery box and I knew she’d love it. I couldn't have done it without you amigo.” Suddenly, Murtagh stopped talking and looked behind him when he heard light footsteps and saw the woman, they were discussing approaching.

“Speak of the devil's mistress.” The Med Lab nurse watched the two friends deep in conversation and saw the look on her fiancé’s face which told her that he’d asked Fergus to do something for him. Bóinne could tell by his expressions as Murtagh was an open book for her. She gave him a warm smile and finally came closer.

“There you are honey.” His eyes crinkled in delight at seeing her. “Hi.” Severing their gaze, Bóinne then looked down and smiled at his friend. “Hello Fergus.” He was a little surprised at her attempt to be so nice to him. “What's up?” “Nothing ..., I just stopped by to say hi … and to tell you what a great time we had the other night.” “That’s fantastic.” “Oh, and by the way, I also found this in Med Lab,” Bóinne said handing him a small contraption in a plastic bag. “I was wearing surgical gloves when I discovered it, so I haven’t contaminated it Fergus. Murtagh thought it might be important for you to check out.” Fergus’ brows knitted somewhat when he saw the tiny device she held out in the palm of her hand. He looked at the device then back up at her, “Where did you find this?” “I was preparing one of the beds for a new patient and found it under the gurney in ICU.” “Where Jamie was?” Fergus asked nonchalantly, not wanting to raise any undue concerns. “Yes, it was actually. Why?” “Oh nothing … I’ll check it out and see if it’s anything significant. Did you find any others?” “No … that was the only one.” “Thanks I’ll look into it.” Fergus declared.

He was not at all surprised that he had failed to locate the device when he’d done a sweep. It was small and would have been hard to detect. Obviously Bóinne had smaller hands and perhaps it had dislodged when the bed had been remade or was hidden under the mattress, he thought. Anyway it could be another piece of the puzzle about the mole and if Frank Wolverton-Randall had placed it there then this would be significant if he could find something on the device that would incriminate him. As they were talking, Murtagh happened to look up past Bóinne and saw Operations approaching their way, so he brought the conversation to a swift end whispering to Fergus, “Okay. I’ll see you later. We have a whole day of downtime.” “All right. I really have to finalise my report for Operations and Madeline. See ya.” The two operatives quickly slipped away not wanting to confront their superior especially when they had better things to do on their day off. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Fergus was busily watching the departing couple and didn’t realize that Dougal Mackenzie had walked up to his station and had joined him at his desk. He was a little startled that Section’s leader had approached his station at this time, especially when he was to report to Madeline’s office shortly. He was also a little miffed too that he’d been caught unprepared for his briefing because Murtagh and Bóinne had taken up his time and he hadn’t realised that he was indeed late for the meeting. “Fergus … Madeline is expecting you. What is the hold up?” “Nothing sir. I was just collating any final points for the briefing. I didn’t want to miss anything,” he nervously replied. “And I was just handed something that I must check out as well. It might be an important piece of the puzzle about the mole.” “I see … very well. I’ll inform Madeline that you’ll be another thirty minutes.” “Thank you sir.” “Bring all your data to her office as soon as you can then. We’ll be interested to hear your report.” However, the other reason Operations was there was that he needed Fergus to pull up a different assignment that was imminent, “But first I want you to upgrade another Mission ... the one we're running in Somalia.” “I'll pull the file.” Swinging his chair around, Fergus accessed the information from another computer. Operations then started to give him a quick sketch of what he wanted done. “The Profile calls for an Abeyance Medical Team of five to infiltrate a terrorist compound where insurgents are wounded to gauge the Intel we require on the health of their leader. The Primary Team will carry out the Mission to destroy their headquarters and all medical facilities if he is found to not be there. Send the Abeyance Ops to Murtagh to get their inventory when he returns from his downtime.” “What's the survival likelihood of the Abeyance Team?” Operations gave their IT specialist a “that's a silly question” look, before answering. “Zero.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Once Section’s leader had left his station, Fergus Claudel was left with a problem. Bóinne Rivière’s standing would automatically place her in the Somalia mission. He pulled up her profile and stared at the abeyance standing flashing on the screen. He couldn’t send Murtagh’s fiancée to her death on this mission. Not now … not when his friend was so happy. He had to do something. Making a decision that he hoped would give him enough time to find a way to repeal her termination ranking, Fergus speedily changed her status to the highest level of eight then quickly exited her Profile. He then took the small device she had given him and ran it through his system. To his delighted surprise it came up trumps. “BINGO!” he exclaimed. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Gathering up his evidence, Fergus Claudel made his way to Madeline’s office where he knew that Section’s leaders would be waiting for him with his Intel and a progress report. With a strong belief that the information he’d found and especially from the device so unreservedly given to him without fear of any consequences, he just might also have enough information to change Operations and Madeline’s minds about sending Bóinne Rivière on the Somalia mission. Fergus hoped that what he’d found would please them about the mole in Section and give him some leverage to place a case for the Med Lab nurse’s reclassification and change their minds about her abeyance mission. He had a slim chance but he had to try for Murtagh’s sake. Last night he’d combed the whole system trying to find a connection to any of the operatives in Med Lab and any associated with Jamie and Claire over the past few weeks of the Rising Dragons’ mission. The fact that he’d been able to find anything or anyone who had passed the Intel to Colum and how, was a miracle. Frank Wolverton-Randall had certainly hidden his tampering extremely well and had gone to great pains to cover his tracks, but Fergus had managed to find the link and what Bóinne had given him would certainly be the final nail in his coffin. Putting all the pieces of the puzzle together had not been easy but it was a good thing that he had, because Operations and Madeline were both vulnerable if Intel keep leaking to Oversight. It seemed strange to Fergus that Colum would be keeping tabs on procedures in Section One when he had been debriefed on several occasions, however with a little further digging he’d come to establish a reason why he’d enlisted Frank’s expertise in doing so and it appeared to be personal. Oversight was the board and the only entity Operations had to answer to. It was all tied up in the Rising Dragons’ mission and Oversight’s perception as to how expediently Section was dealing with the triad. It was well known that Colum and Operations were rivals and there was little love lost between the two adversaries. Perhaps Colum was displeased that things were not moving as fast as he had hoped, but then again in his search Fergus had also stumbled across a communiqué from Colum to Mr Lambert which was very revealing as to his motives. Fergus knew that Operations and Madeline would be pleased with what he’d found. He had managed to solve the conundrum of the mole in Section … the ghost mole actually … as the person responsible was not physically present but had still managed to pass on Intel surreptitiously despite being transferred to another substation. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ An apprehensive Fergus Claudel stood on the threshold of Madeline's office with the information firmly in his grasp. She was talking to Operations who was there as well, but when they saw him, they motioned for him to enter. “So Mr Claudel I trust that you bring us good news.” “I’ve made some progress sir.” “Excellent.” “We’re listening,” Section’s leader stated pricking up his ears in the hope that the mystery would finally be solved. “Please inform us to your findings. What did you discover?” Madeline instructed leaning on her desk. Although he was a little nervous, Fergus began his briefing to his superiors on his results and gave them a status report on his findings. “I ran an inventory of all the possible people who may have been involved as a possible mole in passing Intel to Colum at Oversight and I checked out all the people on your list as well.” “And?” “Zero … Dr Foster and Bóinne Rivière came up clean and although both had tremendous access to Med Lab, there is nothing to indicate that they were involved.” “Hayes and Lesley?” “Likewise.” “So you’re telling us that all of them came up clean?” “Yes sir… I was also unable to find any surveillance cameras or listening devices in Med Lab.” “I thought you said you had something for us Claudel … this is not what I hoped you would find.” Before they could protest some more, Fergus continued, “But … I have now come into the possession a small mechanism that was discovered in Med Lab by nurse Bóinne Rivière. I have just run it through the system. It confirmed my suspicions and gives us concrete evidence of the perpetrator. Without her finding the device I only had my gut feeling and supposition to go on. She was invaluable and is, I believe, totally innocent and loyal to the Section or else she would have disposed of the device instead of handing it over to me,” he added glowingly for extra clarification. Operations heard his statement about Bóinne Rivière but chose not to respond to it, instead he stated, “Go on.” “It was a sophisticated, minute listening device that was attached to James Fraser’s bed in ICU. I ran a fingerprint on it and I found something very interesting.” “Get to the point Fergus.” “I said I’d found no one suspicious but … there is one exception. The fingerprint showed up a match. I narrowed it down to one prime suspect.” That information whetted their appetite. Operations was all ears. “Who?” “A person in another substation but no longer in Section.” “Cut to the chase Fergus … who is it?” Section’s leader insisted as if he had little time for the mundane facts he’d given them already. He wanted something concrete … and he wanted it now! “Frank Wolverton-Randall,” Fergus blurted out. “Who?” Operations exclaimed incredulously but it made sense given their history and how he’d transferred him away from Systems and Fergus. “Frank Wolverton-Randall,” he repeated.

“I heard you the first time,” his superior barked turning to face Madeline with anger in his eyes.

This was certainly a surprise. Madeline took a seat behind her desk thinking that Wolverton-Randall had had little contact with medical or the Rising Dragons mission that they knew of since he’d been transferred to another sector just after Jamie and Claire arrived back from the retrieval Mission. Operations looked at his second in command. “Didn’t Colum specifically ask for Frank to be transferred?” “He did … and we were only too glad to see the back of him. Do you remember?” Madeline added. “Yes … I do.” Operations stated with disdain. He was livid at the underhand tactics Colum had used. He realised that his brother must have planned this all along and was just waiting for his chance to discredit them by using Frank as his mole especially given his knowledge of Section. Fergus waited and listened to the exchange between the two leaders before continuing with his findings. “I raked the system, all of it and I cross-correlated every piece of data on Wolverton-Randall I could find. Once I was able to solve the deeply hidden channel code that I discovered, it all made sense that he was the person responsible.” “How is that possible when he is no longer in Section but at our substation?” “I believe he did have time to set this scam up before he was transferred. He was my main focus because he is the only person who could manage to infiltrate sensitive files about operatives and then pass this Intel on to Colum.” “But why him? Why Frank Wolverton-Randall? Did he approach Colum or he was approached?” Ever pragmatic Madeline gave Operations the answer. “Several reasons Dougal. Think about it … Frank has a number of personal motives for being Colum’s mole and he had the expertise to pull off such a coup. He has the computer knowledge on the same scale as Fergus and he has ulterior reasons to find your brother’s proposition advantageous to seek retribution against us.”

“Hmmm,” he mumbled.

“Not only that, but Colum knew that Frank had animosity towards you and I. He made a bargain with the devil for sure with both parties benefiting from this collaboration. It would be a win-win for your brother too if he could discredit us but you in particular Dougal. He has always had an axe to grind over Letitia’s unexplained disappearance and I would suggest that he blames you for that. After all you did take over Section One when no trace of her was found.”

Dougal Mackenzie took stock of what his second in command had stated and what Madeline said made sense. They now had to come up with a plan to put a stop to it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank Wolverton-Randall was the mole! Fergus’ information raised a number of plausible scenarios in Madeline and Operations’ mind as to why the operative had done what he’d done, and they both in their own way, reflected on what would also provide motives for his deception.

Operations recalled the circumstances under which they’d dealt with Frank when he’d been recruited at such an early age. It was a catch twenty-two situation. Wolverton-Randall was young but he was smart and Section One needed him, however, it was his stupidity and the invincibility of youth that had been his downfall. It was obvious that Frank would have a personal vendetta against him for being brought into Section One. The young man’s rebelliousness and seditious attitude because he was incarcerated away from his mother and father would be legitimate grounds for him to have a special grudge against them as well.

Section’s leader remembered their conversation as if it had happened only yesterday.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hey, go to Hell! Where am I exactly? Stupid City? I want to talk to the man in charge!” "I am the man in charge." With the irreverence of youth Frank’s reply to him had been derisive and sarcastic. "You couldn't be in charge of my crotch." It had taken less than a minute for the young upstart to get the better him, a man who had kept his cool under the most trying conditions. He realised then and there that he would be a thorn in their side but they needed him and that was that. He didn’t have to like the lad. He saw nothing funny about their teenaged guest. Frank Wolverton-Randall was dismissive, cocky and was not afraid when he was brought to his office. His disregard for authority was apparent and he saw everything as a challenge regardless of the consequences. His body language showed that he didn’t fear or feel threatened by the leader of Section One which totally ticked him off. The thought that he could make almost every captured target and operative in Section shake in fear, but couldn’t faze a teenager was galling. He’d taken great delight in telling the youth that he would not be leaving Section. But in his inimitable way the lad was unimpressed. “Unfortunately ..., this place cannot tolerate mistakes. You've seen that.” “Spare me the lecture, Old Folks. Are you going to let me go or not?” “No, we're not.” He’d smiled realising that he had the upper hand over the teenager that was until Frank snookered him in his arrogant manner knowing that he would release him or else he would not fix the problem he had created in Comm. “Hmmm. You may want to reconsider that.” “And why would I want to do that?” “Ask Fergus.” It was obvious that the recalcitrant youth had set up some sort of a virus in their system. He’d stared at Frank for a moment, then walked over to his window where he had a clear view of Comm. and Fergus in the middle of a multiple anomaly because the decoded sequence was generating a virus that was bleeding into the system. Wolverton-Randall’s cocky and boastful reply was the last straw. “I might be able to fix that for you.” He immediately realised that Frank, who was wearing a very smug expression on his face, knew about the possibility of a virus before he’d left on his little sight-seeing tour of Section and knew that it was his get out of jail card if he needed it. But of course that hadn’t eventuated and the tables had indeed been turned on the lad with Section’s subterfuge when Frank thought he was home and hosed and going back to his parents. Operations understood that Section’s double jeopardy alone by reneging on their agreement was enough reason for him to side with Colum in his vendetta against him in particular and Section One.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Madeline also internalised what Fergus had told them about Frank Wolverton-Randall.

She remembered vividly when he came into Section and was cognizant of his tender age but his mental prowess was undeniable. There was no denying that the lad was a genius in his field, so what Fergus had told them was entirely feasible. But Operations was far from happy with the Intel about his compatibility to life in Section and it was not what he had wanted to hear when they had discussed the youth.

“What about Wolverton-Randall Madeline?” “I'm working on an integration program.” “What’s his survival likelihood?” “Over 92 percent, actually ... He's a surprisingly good match.” Section’s head strategist remembered sitting at her desk observing the lad on her monitor. Operations was standing behind her, also staring at the scene. He’d leaned down to get a closer look at Wolverton-Randall and had watched as Claire left Frank to amuse himself. She noticed his 'realignment' of the computer hardware and wiring and had brought up Fergus Claudel's Profile on the monitor to prove that he was capable of accessing their files to ally his boredom while he was waiting to be told why he was there. Her observation of his behaviour was very telling. “Fergus? Fergus Claudel. Age - twenty-one; one hundred thirty-five pounds; 20-80 vision; SYSTEMS ADMINISTRATION for every host on this Local Area Network. Should I continue?” Madeline had acknowledged his skill but only because they had let him. “We've let you roam through an outer, non-secured area of the network to give you something to do." “Gee, thanks. You think I can't dig deeper?” His scornful reply was soon silenced by her ice-cold demeanour. She’d turned from distant and kind to threatening. Moving closer to Frank he’d immediately felt her intrusion into his personal space which was exactly what she had wanted him to feel. But more importantly, Wolverton-Randall soon realised that her threatening tone left no illusions in his mind … she meant what she had said. Frank, being the bright genius that he was, picked up that this woman was dangerous and he needed to tread lightly. “If you did ... and by some fluke ... happened on to something, classified ... You'd never go home again. ... Never see your family again. ... Your life would be over.” For a brief moment their eyes held a type of holding war. Then her warning delivered, she’d returned to her 'distant and kind' impersonation and Frank was slightly intimidated. “We've gone to a great deal of trouble to protect you, don't work against us Frank. We need you to break a code.” “What if I don't do it?” Her threat … “You'll do it,” and her cold stare had left him in no doubt that she meant exactly what she said and there would be no deviation whatsoever. Frank was facing a personality that he had never had to face before. She was someone intelligent enough to realize his potential, but cold enough not to be more lenient due to his age. She was a formidable woman and Frank knew when to listen and do what he was told. A slight smile bowed her lips recalling this incident, but her thoughts soon turned to others involved in Frank Wolverton-Randall’s incarceration. Perhaps he also had a grudge against Claire Beauchamp and James Fraser as well given that they were the ones that captured him and brought him into Section. That could explain his helping Colum with Intel about them from the mission as well. If he was able to destabilise the operatives crucial to the Rising Dragons’ mission then he would have accomplished his job … to sabotage the mission for the head of Oversight … or for his own retribution against Section One. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d gone back on her word. Frank may have perceived this as a lie which had left him in Section One against his will with no chance of returning to the life he once had, or more importantly to his mother and father. “I’m sorry we had to do this, Frank. We need your assistance for a short time ..., then you'll be safely returned.” All Colum’s platitudes about them doing so well were obviously just a ploy in the early phase of the Rising Dragons’ mission so that when the end game was near, Colum then would put in motion his plan … whatever that was and for whatever his reasons were. More than likely his motives were because of his lost love Letitia and Dougal’s succession under suspicious circumstance as she’d already alluded to with him. Colum had never come to grips with the disappearance of his love … Section One’s founder … and if he knew that Dougal was in any way involved then he would seek vengeance on his brother. That could very well explain his skulduggery in involving Frank as a mole hoping to find a link between her vanishing and Operations more so than the triad per se.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Section’s leaders each had cause to reminisce on Frank Wolverton-Randall but were also interested in Fergus’ take on the young man and his reasons for thinking that he was Colum’s mole. “Go on.” “I've worked with him. But I never trusted him.” “Surely this is just sour grapes on your behalf?” Operations interjected but not entirely convinced by the young techie’s answer. He realised that Frank had kept Fergus on his toes and had come into Section because their IT mastermind couldn’t solve the problem.

Was he just saying this because he was better than him and this was what riled him? Did he still have self-esteem problems over the computer genius’ methods?

Fergus realised what Operations was alluding to and he vehemently denied this assumption. “Of course not! He's the only one who could have gotten through for Colum like he did. I found something that I’m sure is how the Intel was passed on to him.”

“Continue.” “I re-routed a deep channel and found an interesting anomaly. It would appear that Frank Wolverton-Randall has the expertise to monitor our systems even from afar. After Bóinne Rivière gave me the mechanism, she’d found that I’d missed in my search, I re-scanned the Med Lab computers and I found a suspicious tag on Dr. Foster’s workstation computer that held Claire and Jamie’s medical history while they were in Med Lab … It was a programme piggy backing off his case files.” “So he could access their progress without us even knowing. Is that what you are saying Fergus?” “Yes. That's right.” “Let me get this clear … what you’re telling us is that Frank Wolverton-Randall would be able to access these medical files when they were open and then pass that Intel on to Colum without anyone knowing.” “Precisely. I've unlocked a half dozen security two files as well. Each contains a treasonous breach which would result in immediate cancellation. They're all linked to Frank by an iris match. He set up an elaborate system that was not easily detected and he went to a lot of trouble to cover his tracks.” Operations leaned on Madeline’s desk with a thought provoking look on his face. Madeline too had a similar disposition. “Explain.” “That's the scary part. He’s been beta testing the software … working out the kinks. Frank used an unusual code, but I remembered the similarities to when he first came into Section One for that very purpose to solve the complex code. He was the only one who had any idea how to approach that thing. This one had elements of that code that Frank had initially solved. It has his footprint all over it. Methods used to decipher it had been implemented in reverse so no one would suspect or be able to find the decryption to decode it. It was difficult but I did it … and voila … it linked to Wolverton-Randall totally.” “I see.” “There is one other damming thing that you may be interested in.” Fergus had already given them enough Intel to ponder and they were surprised that there could possibly be more explosive information. “What is it?” He took a deep breath before uttering, “Colum has been keeping tabs on the Rising Dragons’ missions and in particular Jamie and Claire’s success. He also has been collating data on the disappearance of the founder of Section One, Letitia Chisholm. �� The look on Operations face was incredulous. He couldn’t believe what Fergus had just said. “He’s doing what?!?” “How is that possible?” Madeline added perplexed. “A lot is possible if Frank Wolverton-Randall is involved it would seem,” was Operations terse reply.

“Thank you, Fergus, … I think I have a lot to discuss with Operations. You have been most thorough.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued on Tuesday 11th August.

#jamieandclairecrossover #Jamieandclairefanfic #the lallybroch library #outlander fanfic #covert operations #sablelab #LFNoutlander #jamieandclaireau

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perspective-series · 5 years ago

Text

Lilliputian Perspective (2)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Slight fear, lying, and stealing.

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

————————————————————————————————–

Logan followed along slowly, noting that his hypothesis was correct. He often found himself having to pause for the Lilliputian to go further. Logan sighed. This would have been so much easier if he could have carried the man properly, but Logan agreed with the sentiment of not starting a riot.

“Do Lilliputians have names?” Logan asked, deciding to pass the time with his endless bout of questions. “Or are you a collective who all refer to yourselves merely as ‘lilliputians’?”

“Of course we have names,” Roman replied. “But why on earth should I tell mine to you.” For all he knew, the giant could somehow use it against him.

“Well, I shared mine.” Logan reminded him. “In my culture, it’s customary to have an exchange of names when you meet another person.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want my name associated with some beast,” Roman replied.

“I don’t think you understand how naming conventions work,” Logan explained. “Your name is still associated with yourself regardless of if I have that piece of information.”

Roman groaned. “Fine. It’s Roman. Happy?”

“Roman,” Logan repeated, ducking under a low outcropping branch. “Do you have a last name as well?”

“I might,” Roman said, smirking a little as he maneuvered around a rock.

“Ah.” So, Roman was one of those secretive types that believed keeping others in suspense about personal details would increase their value as a mysterious individual. Logan had never been fond of secrets as they tended to just get in the way of the truth. “I suppose Roman will just have to suffice for now, then. So what sort of person are you, Roman? Where are you employed?”

“Oh, I run my...own business,” Roman said. He wasn’t sure if he should tell this giant what he actually did. People didn’t tend to take it well.

“You’re an entrepreneur?” Logan sounded impressed. He had not expected the dark-clad figure to be a man of business, but then again looking at his surroundings Logan remembered it all resembled a bit more of a renaissance era. Perhaps this was a world that was behind the times as well as shrunken down. “What is your business, then?”

“I...aquire things to sell them.” Yeah, that sounded professional enough, right? Besides, he wasn’t technically lying.

“A tradesman, then?” Logan frowned for a moment. Was that the correct term?

Roman smiled. “Exactly.” Roman continued on for a few moments. “So, do you do anything other than terrorize innocent villages?”

“Well, for starters, I have not done that.” Logan reminded him. “Nor do I plan to in the future- hence this wretched crawling.”

“Fine, fine, you definitely do not terrorize villages, got it.” Roman still didn’t believe him. “Then, tell me, what do you do?”

“I’m a scientist,” Logan said. “An explorer, one might say. Recently I have taken to boarding ships and traveling to distant lands in order to discover strange and fascinating creations, of both flora and fauna alike.”

“A scientist?” Huh, that was not what Roman was expecting. “Well, with the way you talk, I’m not really surprised.”

“What is peculiar about the way I talk?” Logan asked.

Roman was about to answer but realized where exactly they were. “Oh, we’re here.” He thought it had been farther away. Or maybe he just got so into talking that it didn’t seem that long. Huh.

Logan peered over the hill, leaning over the lilliputian to see the freshwater pond. It was perhaps not the most sanitary of sources, but given the size of this island, Logan considered it would have to do. If only he had his disinfectant with him when he was tossed into the sea.

Perhaps the bacteria will be too small to do any damage. Logan joked to himself in his mind, maneuvering around the hill to get close enough to scoop some up in his palms.

As the giant began to drink the water and his eyes were off of him, Roman began to inch away. This was his chance. To escape this giant and never have to see him again. And he wouldn’t get caught up in his ramage, which Roman was still half sure was going to happen. He just had to be careful about this.

Logan carefully raised the water to his lips. Whether or not it was infected with bacteria became of little consequence as Logan felt the soothing sensation run down his throat. All too soon he had gulped it down, only to quickly be followed by several more handfuls as Logan fought to quench his thirst.

Okay, it was time. Logan was fully distracted and it was time to go. Roman turned and started to run away.

As Logan was about to reach in for yet another handful, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Acting on his quick reflexes, Logan dove forwards and reached his arm out to block Roman’s path.

“Ah!” Roman cried as yet again his path was blocked. “H-hey!”

It was strange, but it felt much odder to be constricting Roman’s escape attempts now that Logan knew his name. “Please don’t go.” Logan pleaded gently, trying to remain civil. “I still need your help.”

Roman looked up at the giant warily. “My help with what exactly?” He asked.

“Well quite honestly, everything,” Logan admitted sheepishly. “I do not know the lay of the land and I can’t exactly go exploring as I normally would without starting an island-wide panic. I have no idea where I could take shelter for the night, and I am completely lost as to where I could find a sustainable food source especially considering everything’s diminutive stature.”

“Look, I have a life I need to get back to. I can’t be babysitting some giant beast. Besides, if I’m found with you, I’ll be blamed right alongside you. Why would I put myself in that position?” Besides, whether or not he was blamed for that, if he was found, he was going to jail no matter what.

“Well, then perhaps you should assist me before I manage to blow my cover and let your name slip.” Logan threatened.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?” Roman groaned. “Ugh, I knew I shouldn’t have told you my name.” Even without a last name, if his name was mentioned, especially with a description everyone would know it was him.

“Fine. You’ve got me. I’ll help you, I guess.” Roman muttered.

“Thank you.” Logan seemed pleased with Roman’s begrudging compliance, sitting back to return to the pond. “I do apologize for the inconvenience, though. I hope you can return to your business soon.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Roman said. The only good part was that stealing didn’t have a schedule. He could go a couple of days without doing it. It was probably good to lay low anyway.

Roman crossed his arms and leaned against a tree, watching Logan. “So, what do you want me to help you with first?”

“Shelter would be ideal, so I can have somewhere to set up a permanent camp.” Logan took another drink. “Although I doubt there are many options for someone of my size, especially far from civilians.”

“Actually...I might know a place.” Though...that would mean giving up his own hideout. But if it was their only option then he really didn’t have much of a choice. “There is a large mountain not too much farther from here that has a giant cave at its base. It should fit you perfectly.”

“Intriguing.” Logan finished one last gulp of water. “A cave would certainly be ideal. Which way is it?”

Roman sighed. “Follow me, I’ll take you to it.” At least he knew for sure that no one ever came this way. It was why he chose it as his place of residence, after all.

“Perhaps you can point me to it.” Logan corrected, noting the way the Lilliputian was heading was hidden from the civilization by a growing mountain range. The natural structures were taller than Logan himself, and the human was willing to risk standing even at a crouch. It would certainly hasten their pace. With this in mind, Logan grabbed Roman up in his fist once more.

Roman yelped as he once again found himself in the giant’s grip. “Hey! I can walk!” Roman yelled, glaring up at the giant as he tried to push against his fingers.

“So can I.” Logan stood up, dusting off his knees which had accumulated quite a bit of debris from his crawl across the beach. “And I have longer strides.”

Roman groaned. “Well, a little bit of warning would be nice at least.” He muttered. He then pointed in the direction of his home. “Anyway, the cave is north of here. Just keeping going that way and you shouldn’t miss it.” The sooner they got there the sooner he would be put down...hopefully.

Logan headed in the direction Roman pointed, agreeing with the statement that it should be hard to miss if it was truly to his scale. Logan had to be careful to watch his footing, as several of the smaller mountainous trees threatened to trip him as though they were nothing but tree roots themselves.

Roman made the mistake of looking down as Logan walked and he quickly averted his gaze. He didn’t think of himself as one afraid of heights but even this was too high up for him. “You are...very tall.” Roman couldn’t help but say out loud.

Logan actually chuckled at that notion. “Among my own kind I get that sentiment as well.” Logan Gulliver was not an overtly tall man but certainly had a slightly taller than average build. Regardless, the idea of being truly giant was still quite unnerving.

“What about you?” Logan asked, taking a moment to once again look down at Roman. “How do you compare to your countrymen?” Logan had assumed most Lilliputians were of Roman’s size, but perhaps he was diminutive even by Lilliputian standards. Or more bizarrely, tall for his kind.

Roman shrugged. “I’m a little above average,” Roman answered. He was fairly taller than a lot of people but he also regularly came across people his size or taller. Logan definitely fit into the taller category.

“Are you really?” Logan was indeed surprised by that fact. “It’s hard to imagine a person smaller than yourself.”

“Well, it’s hard for me to imagine someone taller than you, so I suppose we are in the same boat,” Roman said back. Roman looked ahead of him, pointing as his home came into view. “There it is, right over there.”

Logan looked up, spotting the cave in the outcropping. It was well hidden away from the weather, a bit hard to find even for the human surprisingly. A sturdy limestone structure, likely created ages ago when sea levels were higher.

“I see.” Logan crouched down, maneuvering through the rocks to look into the cave. He was pleasantly surprised to find it tall enough that he could stand, and even likely pace a few long strides back before the roof of the cave began to angle down. Regardless, it was more than he could have asked for given the miniature nature of this strange land.

“Yes, I think this shall do nicely.” Logan murmured, inspecting the outer wall with his free fingers.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” Roman spoke and then looked down, wincing as he took notice of all his things. “Just be careful where you’re stepping.” Thankfully he hadn’t stepped on anything coming in but he would definitely have to move everything around in order to better house the giant.

Logan paused, just a few steps in. He looked at his feet, eyes widening at the assortment of tiny furniture and trinkets scattered about the cave floor. Logan took a moment to process this, crouching down to get a better look. “...what’s all this?”

“...I live here.” Roman revealed. “This is all my stuff.”

“Oh!” The dots began to connect in Logan’s mind. “Why do you live all the way out here? Surely it’s a long way from town.” As he spoke, Logan set the Lilliputian down near the collection of items, feeling a bit out of place as he hovered.

Still not wanting to reveal his true occupation, he shrugged. “That’s how I like it. Not much of a...people person.” Well, he was, but others weren’t fond of him. Roman started to gather some of his things to move to the corners of the cave.

“I would argue that living out here you would be the exact opposite.” Logan offered. “Are you certain you’re a businessman? You seem more like a hermit. I don’t imagine it would be physically possible for you to make your way to the market often enough to earn your wages.”

“Trust me, I make plenty. Now stop questioning my life choices and help me move this.” He pointed towards his bed, figuring he could use the giant to his advantage a bit.

“Where do you want it?” Logan asked, lifting it by the sides with both hands. It would be easy enough to lift with a single hand, perhaps even pinched between his fingers, but Logan felt it rude to not treat Roman’s belongings with respect.

“Just set it down in the corner over there,” Roman said, pointing to the spot he meant. “And that should leave you plenty of room.”

“Plenty being relative,” Logan commented, but he placed the bed there just the same. “So, if this is what I assume to be your home,-” (Logan would assume it to be merely a treasury if not for the furniture as well) “- why did you offer to let me take up residence here as well?”

Roman sighed. “It’s the only place I knew that was hidden away enough and that could fit your giant self,” Roman said. “Just don’t go reading into it.” He mumbled.

“I’m actually reading into quite a lot.” Logan glanced around once more at Roman’s assortment of items, sitting with his back against the wall and his knees tucked up. “You never told me what sort of business you operate. I’m beginning to suspect your line of work has more nefarious origins than you implied.”

“What?” Roman stayed calm, Logan didn’t know anything for sure, after all. “And why on earth do you think that? Because I keep my things together like a dragon hoard? Well, sorry if I’m a little unorganized. Doesn’t make my business any less professional and legal.”

“No, I think that because you live alone in a cave away from civilization with a strangely abundant amount of gold. You also seem particularly keen on not sharing personal details and staying out of the eyes of the law.” Logan looked Roman over once more. “Not to mention, your wardrobe gives you the appearance of an ominous ruffian.”

Roman took a step back, glaring at the giant. “Well, I think it’s quite rude of you to be accusing me of such things when I am so graciously helping you out.”

“I don’t mean to offend,” Logan explained, knowing Roman correct. “Social graces have never been my specialty; I am often quite blatant with my observations.”

“Well, if you don’t mean to offend, then let’s drop it and focus on the next thing I can help you with, hmm?” Roman suggested, hoping Logan would go along with it so he could keep his thief status hidden a bit longer.

“Alright, lets.” Logan agreed. It did not bother him morally what Roman’s background was, as frankly no matter his origins Logan could not see him being a threat and frankly Logan had very little room for pure morals in his company when his options for a guide were so limited.

“Where can I find something to eat? I’m famished.” As if to accentuate his point, Logan’s stomach chose that moment to give a low growl.

Roman winced at the noise, taking a few more steps back for good measure. “...Look, I’m willing to do a lot of things but leading people here to be your lunch isn’t one of them.” Roman admitted. He only assumed he wasn’t being eaten because he was actually helping the giant.

“What? No!” Logan’s eyes widened, horrified by Roman’s misinterpretation. “No, you have mistaken my intentions entirely. That idea is positively revolting to me.” Logan gagged slightly at the thought. “I meant sustenance that you eat, not yourself. Have you been under that assumption this whole time? How truly barbaric.”

“Well...yeah. But good to know I was wrong.” Roman thought for a moment. “I think I know of a way to get you enough food. Just stay here, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He started walking towards the cave entrance before pausing. “You aren’t...allergic to anything, are you?”

Logan was surprised to hear Roman even knew what allergies were- perhaps this race was more advanced than Logan assumed at first glance.

“No, I am not,” Logan assured him. “However, how could you possibly hope to bring back enough food yourself? I appreciate the effort, but…” Logan let his sentence trail off, his mind’s eye picturing Roman attempting to drag a regular dinner plate over and failing to move it an inch.

“Just trust me, I know what I’m doing.” He waved as he started walking again. “See you later.”

Logan wasn’t sure he particularly trusted Roman, but he did not have many options. It was likely that Roman would return eventually for his belongings, and if he did not Logan could always take the risk and go looking for sustenance himself. In the meantime, however, Logan was still feeling exhausted. He crawled towards the back of the cave, stretching himself out across the cool, slightly scraggly surface. The human winced, his stomach once again growling loudly at him that it had not been fed and sending hunger pains out.

“Be quiet.” Logan murmured at it, trying to ignore it in favor of getting at least a little rest.

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #gulliver's travels #human!logan #lilliputian!roman #platonic #logince #lilliputian perspective #part 2

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ask-de-writer · 5 years ago

Text

THE HOUSE, (part 3 of 3), a tale of Flocking Bay

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

THE HOUSE

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

7357 words

Written 1990

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan activity, Fiction, Art, Cosplay, Music, or any other thing is actively encouraged!

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I was still curious about the rest of the file in the town library, so I decided to take a break and go into town. As I stepped out the front door, I felt the wind. The trees along the road were still, yet I was buffeted from all sides at once by a wind that did not swirl but pressed my clothes tight to me from all sides at once. I felt more like I was being held comfortably than pushed like a wind usually would. It was warm, where the day and been chill. When I got into the car I left the door open to see what would happen. The wind closed it. This time there was a perceptible pause before the glove box opened.

When it did, a rush of wind gusted out and raced about inside the car. Once again, there were five of the odd gold coins within it. As before, I thanked whatever Power had put them there. Though brisk, the day seemed clear enough to risk the walk into town after all, so I got out of the car strolled down the road to town. Having everything that I needed within walking distance was one of the reasons that I liked the small town of Flocking Bay so much.

The Flocking Bay Bank of Maine was my next stop. I had some difficulty getting them to accept the coins for credit to my account. They insisted on a slate test by a local jeweler to ascertain the purity of the coins. They were twenty four carat. Then they wanted to take the coins at current spot price less ten percent, which was fine with me. They also wanted to count the coins at three to the troy ounce, as Hiram Wickes had counted them in the 1850’s and 60’s, which was not. I insisted that the same jeweler weigh the nine coins that I was depositing. With gold at nearly four hundred dollars to the ounce, the six tenths of an ounce per coin seemed worth the effort. The business was finally done to the satisfaction of all.

My steps now lead me down aged, tree lined streets to the library. Mrs. Alderman had set out the file in readiness for me. I added the tenth coin and a notarized account of its origin and the number of coins to date.

“You have been so helpful, she said brightly, “setting things in order the way you have. Do you know, I’ve been studying some, after hours. I hope that you will have a great book.”

“Mrs. Alderman,” I said in a confidential tone, “I’ve allowed you to deceive yourself. See, I too, put something in your file. I’m not a writer. I’m John Peaslee. I live in the old Wickes place, and I wanted to find out about its history.

My uncle, Gordon Wetherbee, is a scholar at Miskatonic University and he may indeed wish to publish a book or monograph on the subject of my house.”

She looked like a person seeing a ghost. In a faint voice, she replied, “Oh, my! I had hoped it was not you. You were such a nice young man, too.”

Noticing the past tense, I chided gently, “I still am, Mrs. Alderman. I live yet and I have not changed from the person that you first met. The nice young man who set your file in order is not dead.”

“Yet,” she said firmly. “Nobody as lives in that house does so for long. None has ever escaped it.”

“Yet,” I completed with a smile, and crossed the room to the battered pine table by the old mullioned window.

I had put the botanical report off until last, not knowing anything about plants. The report described in dry detail what were called “some of the most unusual genetic monsters that I have ever seen.” The report was issued by Miskatonic University. It described roses that were nothing of the sort. The “rose” plants were carnivorous. There were low pansy and violet-like plants that were some strange form of thallophyte. The mycelium of these fungi was linked in some fashion to the roots of the “roses.” Both forms died instantly upon being plucked and began rotting with almost supernatural speed. No pressings were possible due to the rapidity of decomposition, so only photos and rapidly drawn pictures of what was seen by microscope were included. The grass was as unusual as the “pansies” and “roses.” The leaves all rose from rhizomes, which spread from a central node, like some ferns. This “grass” was no fern, however. None of the plants could be cultivated away from the Wickes house. “The plants fit no known classification and must be regarded as unique to science,” the report concluded.

That evening the wind came again, and blew at my back all the way to the house, like a great friendly beast hurrying its master home. I had forgotten to buy batteries for my flashlight, but I did not turn back.

I resumed my search of the library. The evening passed uneventfully, I did not finish with the library that night. I was feeling restless.

So were the rats of the spectral brigade. I could hear a few upstairs but most were in the basement. Taking a candlestick, I worked the hidden spring of the concealed door to the basement. I could hear the rats below.

The stair was longer than I remembered it. The basement was larger than I recalled it being. The corners were dim in the candlelight. The spectral brigade was upstairs, of course. Still no dust or spider webs. I nearly dropped the candle in shock when I saw it. There was a table in the corner. I knew that the basement had been empty. Bare stone.

My curiosity led me cautiously to the table. It had on it a candlestick with a burned-out stub of candle, a box of papers, and six largish portfolios of leather, each labeled with the name of a continent. They also were filled with papers. A cursory examination revealed that I had found Hiram’s correspondence. There was a lot of it. It was clear that he had the habit of making copies of his missives and attaching the replies to the letters for easy reference. He may have been messy but his mind had been well organized. Taking the folder marked Australia because it was the smallest, I went back up the stairs. I placed the folio on the desk in the study to read by tomorrow̓s daylight. In checking my calendar, I noticed that tomorrow was the day of the new moon.

Bed was welcome, after the tension and labors of the day, but not a relief. My night passed in troubled dreams. It was a place of incomprehensible, invisible obstacles and wind. The wind blew at me from all directions at once, forcing me away in a direction that was not a direction. Resisting the wind caused it to go away. It came back with gold for me. As I refused the gold, my frustration mounted. It was not what I wanted. My tears spilt forth in a flood. I wanted something else - and I could not remember what.

The morning light awakened me on sweat-drenched sheets. Slowly, as dreams will, the terrors faded. I got up and began my day.

As I had begun to expect, the books did not materialize. None of the books in the library was a rebound Necronomicon or Black Book. I reshelved the last book with a sigh. The precious books appeared have eluded me.

I turned my attention to the Australia folder. Its pages yielding information for the first time in about a hundred and twenty years. Apparently, Hiram had a number of correspondents in Australia. His questions ranged from searches for rumored ‘houses of stone’ in the outback to tracing the aboriginal folk carvings and paintings and asking about the most secret rituals and ceremonies of the aboriginal Australians. His questions, piercing and analytical, illuminated every subject with stark clarity, like flashes of lightning. He had known exactly what he was looking for and was not at all afraid of finding it.

Now, with the day beginning to close, there came a knock at my door. Opening the door revealed a postman with a bulky Next Day Letter envelope. Signing for it, I noticed that it was from Miskatonic University. Uncle Gordon had responded almost the instant that he had received my letter, and by the fastest possible post. Impressed, I opened the flap of the letter. A single sheet was all that the large envelope held. Uncle Gordon̓s hasty scrawl read:

Dear John:

It is with simple horror that I have read that you have purchased the house of Hiram Wickes. Delay not an instant! Get out of that house! Leave before the new moon! I pray that this reaches you in time!

Come to me in Arkham! There, I will tell you all that I know of this matter. I hope that you are still alive and well and will come to hear my reasons for so urgent a request.

You are involved with Powers beyond imagination. Things there are that are worse than even what is in the Necronomicon. Hastur, Whose Name Must Not be Uttered, is involved, and Cuthulu, as well, whose coin you sent a tracing of.

This must sound mad to you. A very hodgepodge of fear. And it is. Fear for you. Come to me at once! Upon your life it is necessary!

In regard and fear for your life,

I remain,

Gordon Wetherbee

It was remarkable. I had never seen evidence of such agitation from uncle Gordon before. This, along with all that I had learned, made up my mind. I would take his advice. Packing my few clothes took almost no time. Seeing the Australia folder, I realized how important Hiram’s letters could be to uncle Gordon. I placed it with my bag, by the front door.

I raced to the library, took up a candlestick and plunged down the long flight of stairs to that huge gloomy vault of a basement. As I gathered the box and folders into my arms, I saw them at last! Among others, the Necronomicon and Black Book had been hidden behind the letter portfolios. Putting down the letters in the face of a far greater treasure, I examined the precious books. There was what had to be the only complete 1784 edition of the Necronomicon. Priceless. Also, there was the almost as rare 1635 edition of the Black Book. There was an apparently genuine medieval Latin Philippus Faber. Last was a hand-bound copy of a manuscript, written on a fine supple parchment of a type that I could not identify, labeled in Hiram’s now familiar script, Pnakotic Manuscripts, subtitled, “Being a Collection of Ante-human Lore.” The writing in this last volume was of a sort that I had never seen before. It was disturbing just to look at. The very notion of actually reading it made me shudder.

Knowing that I should not tarry, I placed the books with my other burdens and gathered them up. There was a sudden rushing of wind from all sides at once, forcing me away in a direction that was not a direction. The candle in my hand burned bright and unwavering, despite the wind. It did not blow out.

In a blind panic, I ran up the long, crumbling, dusty, spider-bedecked stair. I found myself back in the basement. I no longer had my load of letters and books. Two more attempts to go up the stairs left me still in the vast, dusty crypt of a basement… Raising the candle high, I looked intently up the stair, trying to see why I could not get to the top. After a few minutes, or perhaps hours, I got my eyes to work properly and the nausea stopped. The stairs offered no escape.

In searching for a way out of this vast stone lined vault of a basement, I found all of the fifty nine other people who had vanished. They are all dead. They have dried to sere brown mummies. Many still show signs of bleeding from eyes, nose or ears, as if their brains had burst within their skulls. It seems that transport to wherever this is, killed the others outright. Some were in bed, others at table, some at other tasks. Each family or person seems to have their own area. The next group is in a different spot. It helps me to sort them out. All of my goods are by the stair.

Examining the bodies so closely may seem to be a ghoulish exercise but it gives me something to do.

I do not need the candle. There is a pale sourceless illumination everywhere. Dust is thick on the floor and everything else. Cobwebs shroud everything.

There, in the corner lies what was Hiram Wickes. The notes and papers with him tell the story. Unable to stand his own mess, he had the house cleaned attic to basement. The yard was manicured to perfection. He then made the simple blunder that has cost so many lives and so much misery.

He bound Hastur of the Winds, Whose Name Must Not be Uttered, to keep his house and grounds exactly as it was on that day in 1866. Every new moon, everything that does not fit goes to the basement but that too gets cleaned. Hastur has no choice but to sweep the excess to someplace else…

I am lucky. I have the opportunity to starve. I was in the basement when the cleaning came. I was pushed through a distance too short to kill. The unvarying light seems to erase time, except that I am getting hungry.

Uncle Gordon has solved many occult mysteries and seems to know something of this one. I know that he will come soon. I wonder if he can do anything.

I found a pen among my things and paper from the possessions of the many dead. I have determined to make this account.

I leave my curse on Flocking Bay Realty. They knew that this would happen. They have sold the house many times, without warning. They have been battening on this evil since 1908.

I have found the rats. They are everywhere here. They do not touch the bodies or Hiram’s books and papers. They are disgusting. If I get hungry enough, I shall eat them.

-THE END-

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#THE HOUSE #Part 3 of 3 #flocking bay #Written by De Writer

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twdeadfanfic · 6 years ago

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Don’t look back Pt.3/3

*Summary: Daryl is used to his brother coming and going out of his life, leaving him alone, since he was a kid. He’s used to Merle meaning trouble too, and to be dragged into all his messes as Daryl loyally follows his brother. But this time Merle’s mess has reached top and has affected more people than the brothers, and Daryl finds himself wanting to step in and fix it, as once again he’s left alone by his brother. Inspired by me wondering how Daryl felt about having always done as Merle says and yet being always left alone, and especially by wondering how is Daryl so good with kids, handling baby Judith so good, like a pro since day one.

*Tags/Warnings: There’s cute stuff here, but the main tag is Angst. Daryl’s pov, there’s an OC (well…two…), but still, this is mostly a Daryl Dixon fic. Once again, this gets pretty angsty, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Last chapter! This is going to be very, very angsty people! You’ve been warned.

Also, I’ve been reblogging some pictures of Norman Reedus that I’ve called “young Daryl” and some gifsets that I think kind of have a bit of the vibe of this mini-series. If you want to check it, this is the tag: Don’t look back (Sorry but tumblr doesnt allow me to direct link it)

Link to my masterlist with my other works can be found on the description of this blog. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but tumblr doesn’t show posts with links in the tags.

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Months later, Daryl is still thinking about Claire’s words. He doesn’t know much about Merle’s situation, but now he knows he’s indeed getting an early release, though not until months. Daryl still means what he told Claire, he’s not going to stop being her friend, seeing her an Emily, but he can’t help but be nervous about what Merle is going to think and how his life is going to be with his brother back again.

He’s gone to the woods, further than usual, camped the night there, both to try and clear his mind and also to try and hunt a deer. He’s been only successful at the latest, and so now he’s trying to tie the deer to the bike, which is not that easy. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the bike for this, but he wanted to ride.

He rides back, plans on going to see Claire and Emily, give them some deer. Between the kindergarten and Claire working more, he doesn’t see them as often as he did once, but still often enough. He doesn’t want to show up at her place with a dead deer over his shoulders and so first he goes to his place to get it ready. It takes him a while, so when he rides to Claire’s place he knows Emily would be back from the kindergarten and Claire’d have finished working too.

“Hi!” Claire grins when she opens the door. “How was your hunting?”

“Got a deer.” He hands him a pack with some of the meat he got ready.

He walks inside and finds Emily inside that kind of big cage that Claire calls park, playing with some toys. She smiles when she sees him, reaching out to him, babbling something that sounds like “hi.” She does that lately, she stills babbles nonsense but also things like no, mum, and some other little words. Claire has said she’s going to teach her to say ‘Daryl’ and he’s not sure if she was kidding or not, but the idea makes him feel giddier than he wants to admit.

“Hi darlin’, what did you do to end up in baby jail?” He asks as he kneels down next to the park thing, picking Emily up and placing her outside.

“I told you not to call it like that,” Claire says, humor in her voice, as she goes to leave the meat in the kitchen. “It’s a park.”

“A park, yeah, sure, does it looks like a park to you, sweetheart?” He wouldn’t be caught talking like that to Emily outside that house, the idea mortifies him. He’s still embarrassed doing it in front of Claire, but not as much as once he had been. Emily babbles a “no” and Daryl looks at Claire, smirking. She rolls her eyes but smiles too.

Emily holds on Daryl’s hands as she tries to stand up. Daryl helps her steady herself as she tries taking some steps, his smile going wide. She’s always been a fast crawler, but now she’s trying to take steps too. “I’m going to come one day and you’re gonna be walking already, uh?”

“Then she’s going to be spending more time in baby jail. She already manages to get everywhere just by crawling the moment I don’t have my eye on her, I don’t want to think about her walking.”

“Nah, I’ll bail you out.” Daryl keeps helping Emily stumbling steps until the little girl gets bored of it and she sits down on Daryl’s leg, reaching out to grab a stuffed bunny that was one of her favorites.

“Bun.” She babbles as she tries to push it onto Daryl’s hand, he’s not very sure as for what.

“Hey, that’s a new word,” he says as he holds the bunny, still unsure of what Emily wants him to do with it.

“Yeah, a bunny.” Claire goes to sit down next to them. “Like the ones Daryl hunts and I’ve been feeding you, doesn’t that seem conflicting to you?” She jokes, Emily’s little enough not to understand what she’s saying. “No? Then wait until you watch Bambi and Daryl takes you hunting deer.”

Daryl snorts, nudging Claire with his shoulder, but Emily just smiles, unaware, taking another plushy, a fish this time, and pushing Daryl with it again. “What does she want me to do?”

“Don’t know, ask her.” Claire smiles, seeming amused, and she grabs a plushy to throw it at Daryl too. He rolls his eyes at her but can’t even pretend to be annoyed.

For a while, Daryl is silent, holding toys that Emily passes him as she babbles its names, sometimes right sometimes not, half his mind in the little girl, half the other still on his brother.

“Merle’s getting the early release.” He finally blurts out. He waits for Claire to say something, but she doesn’t, so Daryl glances at her. She’s serious and thoughtful, and Daryl guesses what she might be thinking about.

“I meant what I told you, just cos my brother’s back doesn’t mean I’m not going to see you both anymore. That ain’t happening.” Daryl knows how Merle can be, but he’ll think something, he’ll make it work. Claire just shrugs in silence. “You don’t believe me.” He deflates. He holds Emily a bit tighter, like if that could shield him from his emotions, but it does the opposite.

“It’s not that.” Claire let’s out a sigh. “Just…I wouldn’t hold it against you, if you do.” She fidgets with one of the toys as she speaks. “You’ve done enough for us. And Merle’s your brother, and you were always following him before, so-”

“I ain’t my brother’s dog or nothing, woman!” Daryl snaps harsher than he wants without letting her stop, he can’t help it, he’s always hated how he indeed ends up doing whatever Merle tells him. Emily looks at him, startled, like if he had scared her, and it’s like a punch to the gut.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Daryl.” Claire begins speaking softly again. “But you guys were always together, you’re brothers, so if when he’s back Emily and I don’t quite fit in the picture…well, I understand, and-”

“Stop with that.” Daryl cuts her again, softer this time. “I already told you nothing’s going to change.” It wasn’t entirely true, things would change with Merle there, Daryl knew it, but nothing was going to change the fact that Claire was his best friend and that he’d always want to help her to take care of Emily and protect the little girl, not Merle, not anything. He was loyal to his brother, but now he was loyal to Claire and Emily too.

“Okay.” Claire gives him a tiny smile.

“Only thing that can happen is that you will have to put up with my brother sometimes.” Daryl half-jokes, totally aware of how Merle can be sometimes, but Claire already knew him and she isn’t one to scare easy. Besides, Daryl doesn’t really plan on letting Merle around Emily too often.

“I can do that.” Claire’s smile goes a bit wider.

“Settled, then.”

They fall silent again but is not as tense as before. Daryl watches as Claire and Emily play with some construction blocks, passing them some from time to time as they build something without a defined form.

“What’s this supposed to be?” He asks as he passed them the block Emily pointed, way too big to place it on top of the other four that she has placed before.

“Modern art,” Claire replies, reaching out to stop the small tower from falling down. “She’s an artist, you see.”

“I see.” He smirks. “Gonna be a while until she can put a bike together.”

“She doesn’t want to put together a bike, she’s an artist, I told you.”

Emily doesn’t say anything, just passes Daryl another block, babbling as he waits for him to place it on top of the tower.

Daryl has gone out to the woods again, further this time, to the place where his uncle took him to camp as a kid to teach him how to hunt when his father was too drunk and too out of control. That, until his uncle left him too.

He likes the solitude, likes the woods and being out there, likes it better than the town, but after a couple of days he’s more than ready to go back to see Claire and Emily. He had just needed to clear his mind.

For all his words to Claire, Daryl can’t help but worry as days pass and Merle’s release date gets closer. It must be in a week or so by now, or maybe just days. Is not that he doesn’t want his brother to come back, he misses him, it’s just he can almost hear him making fun and what not of him and his friendship with Claire and her little girl. And he’s not sure how Merle’s going to take all the time he spends with Emily and Claire. He doesn’t think he’s going to like it, though. He’s unsure too of what his brother is going to want them to do once he’s back.

Anyway, there’s no point worrying about that now. It feels wrong, telling Claire that he’s not going to stop hanging out with her just because his brother is getting back and then spending more time in the woods, but he thinks she understands.

He has taken Merle’s bike again so he can enjoy it before he’s back, and he has left it hidden in some bushes at the outside of the woods. He should clean it before his brother gets back.

He makes his way back to where he left the bike but before he can reach it, he sees a man stumbling to him, seeming to come from the road. His clothes are ragged and bloodied, his face gray and splashed with more blood, his eyes clouded. Maybe he’s been in some kind of accident, he looks so bad Daryl doesn’t know how he’s walking.

“You okay, man?”

He doesn’t answer, and the more he approaches the more Daryl realizes he doesn’t look normal. Like, at all. A shiver runs through Daryl's spine as he looks at him, he looks beyond ill, dead even. The man begins reaching out for him, growling. Maybe he’s insane.

"Stop right there!” Daryl yells, raising his crossbow, and when the man keeps going Daryl loses the arrow, aiming to stop him but not kill him. The man keeps going though, doesn’t even seem to notice the arrow, so the next one Daryl loses goes straight through his chest. That doesn’t stop him either, and Daryl is dumbfounded for a moment. Before he knows what’s happening, the man throws himself at him with more strength that he seems to have and Daryl falls to the ground with him on top.

He struggles, trying to push him away but the man doesn’t relent, trying to bite him. Daryl manages to get out his hunting knife and stabs the man with it several times, but he doesn’t stop, and not knowing what to do, Daryl sinks it into the man’s skull as hard as he can. That finally makes him stop moving and Daryl kicks him off him when he drops dead on top of him.

Daryl rushes onto his feet, looking at the corpse, a thousand confusing thoughts racing through his mind. He doesn’t know what’s going on or what to do, but before he can think anything else, he sees another man and a woman looking like that going to him. He aims again, this time the arrow going straight to the woman’s chest but that doesn’t make her stop, neither the one straight to her heart and so Daryl aims at her head, and that makes her fall down. Her next arrow goes straight to the man’s head.

Daryl still doesn’t know what to do or what to think, all he knew is that he has to get out of there and back to the town. He takes the bike off the bushes and rides back to the road. There is a car there and two corpses lying on the ground, but Daryl ignores it, driving back to the town.

Halfway there he finds a couple of cars crashed on the road, and what it seems like one of those things, which Daryl is starting to doubt are people anymore, bended on top of someone, seeming to be biting him, or eating him, or Daryl doesn’t know what but he doesn’t stop, speeding up, going as fast as he can. Whatever is going on, Daryl needs to get to the town and check on Claire and Emily.

There are some more of those things at the town, roaming the streets, looking at him when they hear the bike, snapping, while others seem to be eating the people that are dead on the ground, and maybe Daryl is going crazy but he’s pretty sure those are people he knows. He still doesn’t know what’s going on, it just gets weirder and weirder, but whatever it is, it’s not good.

“Help!”

Daryl’s about to ignore the voice pleading for help but a woman runs in front of his bike, making him slam the breaks and almost falling down. Before he can yell at her he sees what seems one of those things, and this time he’s sure he knows her, he has seen her enough times at the park. Without thinking it twice, he rushes to take his crossbow and shoots at the head before she can get too close.

“The hell is going on?” He snaps at the woman who’s stopped in front of his bike.

“That, hell! The dead walking!” The woman seems out of herself but it’s not like Daryl can really blame her. “The end of the world!” Daryl scoffs at that, turning on the engine again. “I’ve seen it on tv, it’s not only here, it’s everywhere, people are going insane like that and attacking people everywhere!”

Daryl’s head has been on Claire and Emily the whole time, but it goes to his brother at that. Everywhere? Does that mean the jail where Merle is too? The knot of worry that’s clenching his stomach gets worse, he needs to go there and find his brother, and then Merle’ll know what to do. But first he needs to check on Claire and the little girl, make sure they are okay. Maybe she can convince Claire to go with him to get Merle or at least he needs to get her and Emily to a safe place, because that town is seeming crazier every passing minute.

Without any other word, the woman rushes into what Daryl guesses it’s her car to drive away. She should be good enough and so Daryl speeds up to Claire’s place. Those things snap their heads at him but Daryl ignores them, stopping just to shoot at them when they’re blocking the way, but he tries to just drive through them, afraid of getting out of arrows, and there’s not enough of them to actually block the road.

Daryl stops in front of Claire’s place, his worry going out of control when he sees the door is open and he straights out panics when he rushes inside and sees blood on the floor. He’s about to call for Claire but then there’s a horrifying gurgling sound and he sees her lying on the floor, hands clutching her throat as blood pours over them.

Daryl straight blacks out for a second but then he’s rushing to her, falling onto his knees next to her, pulling her into his arms. He doesn’t know what to do, panic gripping him as he takes her hands and sees her throat tore open. Claire looks at him with cloudy eyes as she chokes and gurgles, and Daryl thinks she chokes out something that sounds like ‘Emily’ but he’s not sure. He knows he has to find the little girl and keep her safe, but he can’t leave Claire.

He doesn’t know if Claire’s shaking or if it’s him, but his hands are trembling as he presses them to her throat and he’s sure his heart stops when Claire closes her eyes, lying limp on his arms. “No, no, no, Claire, hey.” He all but pants for air as his lungs seem to stop working, he has to do something but he doesn’t know what, the fear that grips his heart telling him she’s beyond help.

Claire’s eyes open to look at him as he shakes her and for a crazy second Daryl dares to have hope, but then she stops chocking and gurgling, her eyes fixed on him but empty, and just like that she’s gone.

Daryl can only stare at her body, his vision turning blurry as tears fill his eyes. He’s shaking, and his lungs burn as he gasps for air. It doesn’t feel real and at the same time it feels too real. It huts like it’s real. Daryl doesn’t think he can move, his body doesn’t seem to respond, but he forces himself to do it, he has to. He has to find Emily and keep her safe, though he doesn’t know what to do or where to go. He has to find Merle, take Emily with him, make sure both his brother and the little girl are safe, and then Merle will know what to do.

He’s holding Claire’s body against him but he makes himself lie her onto the floor to get up, tries not to look at her but he does and for a moment the pain overwhelms him again, threatening to make him crumble and fall again, but he forces himself to shut it and keep going. He rubs his eyes as he takes a deep breath, realizing too late that his hands are wet with Claire’s blood, smearing it over his face, turning his stomach.

Daryl chokes a whimper but he has no time for that, he has to find Emily. The little girl is going to be scared seeing him like that, though. At least she didn’t have to see her mother like that, she’s not around, and for a moment Daryl fears Emily’s not in the house and he’s not going to be able to find her, but it’s past time she was home from the kindergarten and he can see his little boots propped up at the side of the sofa. She has to be there, and this time it’s not going to be too late.

“Emily? Sweetheart?” He calls for her and there’s no babbly answer but Daryl forces himself not to panic and he rushes to her room. She’s in the corridor, sitting on the floor with her back to him as if blissfully oblivious to everything that’s going on, and Daryl lets out a relieved sigh. “Darlin’, we have to go, alright?”

Daryl walks closer to pick her up but stops, his blood freezing in his veins when he hears the growl coming from Emily. No, it can’t be that. She turns around and looks at him with those empty eyes, the same that the things on the streets have, her face drained of color but the red of the blood that has splashed it, contorting into something that terrifies Daryl as she snarls. It can’t be real.

Her little hands reach out for him as she growls and she tries to get up, stumbling a couple of steps before she falls down and resorts to crawling. Daryl can’t move, can’t think, can’t breathe, he feels as he’s as dead as Claire, empty, his mind numb.

Somehow his survival instinct kicks in through his shock, forcing him to stop looking at what is not Emily anymore, to turn away and run out of the house, but he’s not sure how he’s able to do it because next thing Daryl knows is that he’s on Merle’s bike riding as fast as he can, he doesn’t know where, doesn’t care. His mind is still clouded, making him feel numb, but that’s better than the pain. The pain is too much.

He takes a turn, just because, gets into the woods, keeps riding until the wheels of the bike get stuck in the mud and both the bike and him fall to the ground, hitting his head, but Daryl doesn’t care, doesn’t bother to try to get up. He wants his mind to be numb and the pain in his head is better to the one in his heart.

This doesn’t make sense. He still doesn’t know what’s going on but he doesn’t care, all he knows is that Claire is gone and that Emily is…something that is nor her, and it doesn’t make sense. Daryl curls on himself, closes his eyes. Maybe it’s a nightmare, maybe he’ll wake up, his nightmares are terrifying, painful, but they don’t hurt like this, and he knows this is real.

He can’t help his sobs, can’t stop them, neither the tears that burn his eyes. They are gone, he doesn’t understand how or why, but they are gone, his best friend and her little girl, the people Daryl wanted to protect, the people he ended up caring about so, so much, the people that made him happy, made his life better, the people he loves.

It hurts worse than if one of his bolts had gone through his heart, it hurts worse than if his heart’d have been ripped out of his chest while he’s still alive, his stomach clenches and turns, making him want to throw up.

Daryl stays like that, curled, eyes closed, fighting to breathe, until he hears a growl and knows that one of those things are close, but he can’t find the will to get up and fight it, he doesn’t want to move. His survival instinct kicks in once again when the thing gets close enough to reach him, though, making him move like a robot, getting up and facing the thing that growls and snarls, reaching out and trying to grab him

Daryl doesn’t bother to get an arrow on the crossbow and aim, he just bashes the crossbow onto the thing’s head, hitting it hard. The thing fells to the ground, probably dead, but Daryl keeps hitting and hitting, yelling at it, until what was its head isn’t recognizable anymore. He drops the crossbow and kicks the dead body until his legs give up and he falls to the ground.

He doesn’t want to feel. He wants to be numb again, he wants to shut it down, but images keep coming to his mind and there’s no way to stop them. He can’t get it out of his mind, the image of Emily, or the thing with Emily’s dead face.

He closes his eyes tight and he can almost see her when she was so, so tiny, wrapped in the scarf…the first time he held her…playing with her while she babbled…her holding onto his hands stubbornly trying to walk, but all those memories faze and all he can see is her dead face snarling as her dead body somehow crawled to him. Because Daryl knows it, knows that even though she’s moving, she’s dead, no matter he doesn’t understand how, and she’s not coming back

His memories of Claire smiling to him, joking as they three played together, talking with him for hours and hours as they walked, telling him he was his best friend, having his back in more ways than she knew, all them turn into her body dead in his arms, her empty eyes on him, he tries to hear her voice but all he hears is her gurgling as she chocked.

Daryl can’t take it and he curls onto himself again, shaking, his lugs burning as if his body doesn’t want to breathe anymore.

He was supposed to take care of them, to protect them, and he wasn’t there. He should have been there. He should have saved them. They should be alive. He failed them and now they are gone and he’s alone, and it hurts too much to keep going.

“And you call yourself a Dixon? You are a shame. Lying there on top of a pile of brains, whimpering like some pussy. This is all on you, Lil’ brother, all your fault.”

Daryl’s thinks he’s going insane when he hears Merle’s voice. Maybe he’s turning into one of those things too.

“You’ve been like this since you were this Lil’ brat, I always had to drag you everywhere with me, tried to teach you to be like me, and all for this…all I got for a brother is this whining, crying, useless, weak mess…I’m ashamed to call you my blood.”

Merle’s voice ranting again, so clear, and this time Daryl looks up but he can’t see his brother anywhere. He’s really going insane.

“You’re gonna be lying there, whimpering like a beaten dog, until you get your useless ass eaten? Nah, Lil’ brother, you stole your older brother’s bike and now you’re gonna get it back to him. So come on, get your whining ass on that bike and drive it to me, and without any scratch. Come on, Darylina.”

Merle.

He’s right.

His brother might still be alive, he has to. Of course he’s alive. He’s Merle. Merle doesn’t die.

Daryl has to find him.

He tries to get up but his legs are shaking too much. His head thumps from when he hit it when he fell off the bike but that’s good, that’s welcomed. He sits down, takes a deep breath. He wants to be numb again, he needs to be numb again, he doesn’t want to feel, he can’t.

He doesn’t want the pain, the hurt, the memories, the feelings. He shuts everything, he pushes everything down, somewhere where he hopes he won’t have to feel it or see it again. All his memories of Claire and Emily. He doesn’t want anything of that anymore, he can’t handle it. He needs it gone.

He struggles but at the end he manages to push everything down, to shut it down. He has to find Merle. Nothing else matters now but finding his brother.

Daryl gets up, takes the bike, drags it out of the mud. Emily liked to play in the sand and the mud, Claire never minded the little girl getting dirty if that meant she was having fun, she neither minded getting her clothes full of mud. Daryl can almost hear them laughing and tears burn in his eyes again as he gasps for air.

No.

That’s gone.

He has to shut that down.

Or otherwise he won’t be able to keep going, and he needs to find Merle.

He pushes it all down, all the pain, all the feelings, everything, shuts himself.

Daryl drags the bike back to the road, gets on it, kicks on the engine and seeps up, off to find his brother, fast enough he can’t think, fast enough he can’t feel anything that’s not the wind, and he doesn’t look back.

---------

Well...I told you this was going to be angsty :( I’m really sorry people, but I had this idea in my mind and I hade to write it down. I think it makes sense with how hard Daryl tried to find Sophia, he’s very protective and he likes kids, he didn’t want another one to die, and also it makes snse with how good and sweet he was with lil asskicker. Writing this killed me, I cried, but I also love it.

Next monday a liltte one-shot/imagine based on 9x09 is coming, and then on wednesday a new series begins. I hope you’ll like those! You can read the summaries in my masterlist.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you liked it! If you have a moment, please let me know your thoughts in the comments, your feedback makes my day!rry if there are mistakes.

If you want to be tagged (or removed from the tags) let me know!

@momc95 @jodiereedus22 @osweetdevilo @sapphire1727 @coffeebooksandfandom @crustyrose @checkintoreality @daddys-little-princess67 @sesshomaru-lover @crossbowking @coltcas @feartheendlesssummer @izumi37 @gruffle1 @cutiepiemimi13 @drina365 @kuolematkorjaavat @daeshaunex2 @twdeadlysins @stressed-lasagna @teenyforestfairy @yenne-yen-illustrations @mychemicalimagines @nikkipea @crazycatladyalustriel @miniprz @wolfkg @paybackbarnes @haleypearce @nikki082489 @dotslabyrinth @mtngirlforever @superflannel @blckbuttler @deanervs @linktheloveabledork @sourwolf-sterek32 @iminlokisarmysofi @traveleraroundsworld @deliciousassafrasssandwich @angelontheinside @friendly-black-cat @firehoopinmama @d0ntfitin @ivars-snowflake @mblaqgi @moraglefay

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datshq · 7 years ago

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BNHA Secret Santa Fic

@bnhasecretsanta gift for @todoiideku ! I hope you had a great one and that you enjoy my gift, late as it is. I tried to fit at least nods to all your preferences! You told me you liked AUs and I saw you reblogging Fantasy AU stuff so that’s what this is based off.

Title: The Greatest Gift of All Summary: Prince Shouto’s path to receiving all he ever wanted lasting three Christmases. Also known as: Shouto is really, really bi and keeps falling for the altruistic knight types.

Christmas was celebrated in the Kingdom of Shizouka in early winter. The region had extreme variations between seasons, which was why winter came so late in the year. The potential for both snowstorms and heat waves through the year was believed to be the reason why the royal family held the power of heat and cold, combating the worst of the most extreme seasons.

For Shouto, the reality of the world was nothing so whimsical and fairytale-like. The reality was that the Todoroki family's regard in the eyes of their subjects had been going downhill during the reign of the previous king, and Enji Todoroki had felt he needed to recreate the strength of the lineage. Because of that he had tirelessly searched the entire kingdom in his youth for the purpose of finding a bride with the magical potential to balance out his own.

Weather magic was commonly practised within the kingdom, but summoning winter had never been seen as too much of a priority, considering the season's destructive nature. As such, King Enji, crown prince at the time, had commanded the magically gifted women of the kingdom to present their level of affinity for the magic. That was how he had found his bride and secured the good standing of the royal family for a while longer.

It didn't last, as was the nature of temporary fixes. Enji's obsession with creating a perfect prince to continue the Todoroki reign had caused the family to become splintered, ruining the unity that also could have served to create the image of strength that Enji coveted. As things stood, all of Shouto's older siblings had abandoned the castle, seeking their fortunes elsewhere with whatever magical talents they'd been born with and trained in.

As for Shouto's mother, the much coveted winter witch, no one had heard from her in years. She'd been sent away from the castle years ago, spirited away into some distant corner of the kingdom where no one could find or recognize her.

What she had done to deserve such a banishment was kept as much a secret as her location. Regardless, the countless servants at the castle didn't miss how the crown prince was kept secluded soon after and how, when he finally emerged from his chambers, half of his face sported a faint burn scar.

In a kingdom ruled by Enji, Christmas was a grand, bright and impressive celebration. It was all a testament to the man’s ego, a bright and warm party in the cold and dark of winter, a victory over a season. Enji was like that about everything, treating everything as a foe he could overcome, even weather or his own family.

A man who only had enemies and conquests didn’t have the time or interest to celebrate just for the sake of it. As such, Shoto had never learned to do so either. In fact, Shoto could barely stand Christmas celebrations.

While Shouto himself wasn't much of a Christmas person, others more than made up for it. During Christmas time the castle was always brimming with cheer and singing voices as servants and temporary hired help set up and maintained the grand two-day long party. The guest were equally merry, among them Shouto's oldest and dearest friend, the knight Momo Yaoyorozu.

Momo was still young, but everyone knew she would be leading the royal guard when the current commander retired at the latest. Her family was highly influential, nobles of the highest calibre, so no one questioned her status despite her age. Outside of that Momo's strategic ability, combat ability and magical prowess created an impressive resume that had Shouto fully believing that he could rely on her any day and that she deserved the high regard even if her family could have potentially influenced it.

Every year, Momo and Shouto would exchange gifts privately, away from the bustle of the party. They were small, practical but fun things: books, spyglasses and maps. It was a reliable tradition and one of the few things Shouto enjoyed about Christmas.

This year Momo gave Shouto a map of the kingdom of Shizouka, with handmade markings sprinkled on the edges of the kingdom.

"What's this?" Shouto, asked, curious about what made these spots so special that Momo would catalogue them for him.

Momo fumbled with the spyglass she'd gotten from Shouto, military grade with shadow-repelling enchantments. "Those are all the places mentioned in rumors about your mother."

Shouto's eyes widened and his hands immediately rolled up the parchment, protectively hiding it from the curious eyes of anyone passing by.

"Because of the secrecy, no one knows anything for certain, but people have been curious for years, so there's been a lot of digging around and whispering going on among the nobles. I collected the most promising leads here," Momo explained. She gave Shouto an encouraging smile. "Maybe one day we can check them out?"

"Yes," Shouto breathed out with no hesitation. "Yes, I'd love that." He felt like he loved the idea of seeing his mother even more when it was combined with the idea of leaving this palace with Momo. He wondered how he could tell her that.

"Thank you," he finally said. "You're amazing."

Momo's smile was beaming, her eyes sparkling like they always did when she got a compliment. "You too," she replied, happy, eager and friendly.

She hadn't understood what Shouto meant, but Shouto decided that this was fine too. She understood enough. Even if his feelings weren't exactly reciprocated, he was still valued, so much was clear in this meaningful gift that was one step closer to getting him what he'd wanted for years: to see his mother again. He could wait to find someone to love and to love him in return, just like he could wait for this.

---

It was the day before Christmas Eve the next year that Momo approached Shouto again with the idea of leaving the palace.

"I need to get you out of the city," was what Momo said, and it was also all she needed to say.

Shouto knew opinions on his father's rule were growing less split and more entirely negative. Of course there was going to be a coup. Indeed, Shoto's quiet observation of the servants had noticed more outsiders were helping with the Christmas preparations than the year before. Disguised rebels possibly.

"Thank you, Momo," Shouto said sincerely to the guard as they made their way out of the castle casually, like they were simply going out for a stroll, arms linked companionably. "I appreciate you going through this extra effort to make sure I'm not hurt."

"Of course," Momo said passionately, eyes gleaming with intent. She was breath-taking like this. "You're my friend, Shouto." Her cheeks flushed. "I can't take all the credit for this consideration, however, Jirou was the one who pointed out that the nobles are most likely involved in this for their own selfish reasons." Momo's arm around Shouto's tightened protectively. "She knows I'm friends with you so she said I should get you away from the power struggle."

So Momo wasn't so much worried over Shouto getting caught in the crossfire as she was worried over someone purposefully coming after Shouto to make sure he didn't claim his father's throne. While the common citizens might have considered Shouto a good replacement for his father, the noble families thirsting for more power wouldn't care about much outside their own grab for power.

"Good thinking," Shouto said, instead of the several uncomplimentary things he was thinking about adults and their games.

"Jirou is so practical like that," Momo said, and there was something in her tone that indicated she meant much more than that.

This must have been the difference between Shouto telling Momo she was amazing and her saying it back. Hidden meanings that hoped for more. A game of emotion rather than power. It was nice, even if disappointing.

---

There was a bright side to everything. Going into exile granted Shouto the unique ability to go searching for his mother without any other responsibilities holding him back. He would have wanted to take this journey with his friend but, by the time they were united, if they ever were, Shouto would most likely have to take his father's former throne. As things were, Shouto would have gladly allowed the crown to go to anyone else, as long as it meant he could finally find his mother.

Shouto didn't travel alone for long. He'd told the end goal of his journey to a pair of knight-errants who'd eagerly agreed to help him traverse the scarcely-habited outskirts of the kingdom. Well, Izuku had agreed with no questions asked, but Tenya had insisted on the term that Shouto wouldn't keep them from fulfilling their duties. With that agreed, the trio had continued the journey together.

It was a long journey to begin with, with few roads to make travel easier, but Tenya and Izuku made the trip even longer, since they stopped to help with every minor or major disaster, settle every dispute and help with any problems. At first Shouto put up with these knightly duties grudgingly. Then he became used to the interruptions. Finally he started to appreciate the side trips for the new sides to his companions they brought out.

Tenya was an organized person and a good speaker. He was the one who usually settled the disputes they ran into, convincing people to come to a conclusion. He organized groups to take care of bigger problems and he was generally very logical and almost impossible to argue with.

Shouto thought, if he ever did take the crown and became the new king, he'd like to lead like Tenya did. He didn't think much of his admiration for the knight when it first started popping up, mostly because, even as he looked to Tenya with appreciation, Izuku's similar looks were downright starstruck. Obviously Tenya just was a very admirable person, or so Shouto convinced himself.

Izuku was as led by his emotions and gut as Tenya was by his logic. It was watching the easy way he cared for the well-being of complete strangers that taught Shouto the difference between helping because you wanted to right a wrong and helping because you cared too much to let something unjust slide.

It was Izuku's example that finally moved Shouto from simply liking the idea of people getting help, to actually taking part in helping people with their problems. He also noticed that Tenya had, bit by bit, stopped talking about his knightly duty so much whenever they stopped to help someone, also developing a softer side to match Shouto's new outlook. Even Izuku was more willing to speak his mind after they had all travelled together for a while, becoming more assertive from having his friends support him in the things he did.

All in all, the three of them all benefitted on a personal level from travelling together. They had all grown as people and become better. Because of that Shouto had started to see the arrangement as a status quo of sorts, the way things were and would continue to be. Because why change something that so obviously worked?

But all journeys have an end goal somewhere and, if nothing stopped you, you'd eventually reach the ending. As such, it was a bittersweet occasion when Izuku and Tenya presented to him the map he'd based this journey on, with added markings on a location close to the town they were currently stocking up at.

"So, we asked around," Izuku explained. "Well, I did most of the talking because apparently some people think Tenya is intimidating." Izuku scoffed at the very thought but then put himself back on track as he tapped the woods Momo had marked originally. "But, there's a young woman living in the woods around here, who always comes to town alone but still buys supplies for two people. Also, no one knows where her assets come from, since she's never selling anything."

"We think she might be your mother's attendant," Tenya carried on, easily offering up the conclusions based off Izuku's facts. "Since your mother's location was to be a secret, and you mentioned she was unwell, it would make sense for her to have an attendant with her who could take care of her needs."

Shouto grasped at the map to look more closely at it, at the more exact coordinates for his mother's hideout that Izuku and Tenya had managed to discover. Somehow, the situation felt almost dreamlike and unreal. After all this time, after almost a year of searching, they'd finally found her.

Shouto swallowed. "How do you think she's doing?" he asked.

Izuku moved closer in comfort while Tenya considered the question. "You did say it was living at the castle that didn't agree with her," Tenya said. "And this is a peaceful region. It's the perfect place to recover."

In other words, if his mother could recover, this was the place to do it. It was good news.

"This is amazing," Shouto said, after a moment to collect himself. He turned to his companions, thinking about how he'd grown thanks to them, how he probably never would have made it to this point without them. "You're amazing."

He'd never managed to say that quite like he meant to with Momo. He hoped that this part of him had changed too.

Tenya's cheeks reddened, but he smiled brightly as he clapped Shouto on the shoulder. "You're magnificent," he returned, tone holding a weight of meaning.

"Wonderful," Izuku added in, his voice equally meaningful even as his body seemed to curl up from embarrassment over the sincere regard, arms tight around his own torso.

Shouto looked at them both and now realized that even as he'd admired these two and as they'd admired each other, they'd also been admiring him back. His feelings were reciprocated.

The map in Shouto's hands felt heavy and real. The warm regard of his companions made this new perception of reality finally make sense. It wasn't a dream and he wouldn't need to wait anymore. He was getting all he'd ever wanted, in one fell swoop.

#bnhasecretsanta #my hero academia #mha fic #todoiideku

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bedlamgames · 7 years ago

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Q&A #60

Ones where I appreciate the report and will look into it: owned slaver issues, squirm and writhe/spawn of light issue, unbanning from the pit, Hold back the dark reccs, and after the break the ones that need a more specific response including whether bigger is indeed better, sourcing some parts of the latest HMV, and the living who may or may not be also dead.

asapien1: Wouldn't it make sense to have a bonus value spot for more petite slaves as well? (rather than the value just going up as you increase asset size). Im thinking in particular of the "girlish" package from the Keldan missions, it seems odd to "pay" someone to physically alter a slave to have significantly less value. Maybe if both chest/ass size are at that point they should have a "Physical Assets" value modifier for having a proportional, girlish figure.

There’s a couple of reasons why it works the way it does currently. Bonus value for a start is only a reflection of what you think the slave is worth at auction rather than a judgement of size preferences. While the higher sizes are worth more this is counter acted by losing positive traits and gaining negative traits which penalizes value.

I’m also planning to expand the Fulfil Opportunity assignments when more training options are done where the reward is purely based on what is requested and how the slave matches and there will be clients looking for more petite slaves.

Anonymous: What is this TF version you keep mentioning in you update posts?

There’s a full explanation linked to the $5 tier on the patreon but to give a quick description it gives more freedom for your starts allowing you to play scenario starts in regular games, be able to play the gender transformed portraits from the start rather than need to go from male to female, and be able to select certain things at the start that normally that would need to be unlocked like being Possessed, take some of the aspects that normally are scenario only, or are normally certain races only like Insatiable.

Pledging at that tier also helps support continuing development, you get to vote in the commission poles, and I really do deeply appreciate it :)

Anonymous: imgur /a/bKFo0 can't seem to be able to get to endurance x4 after healslut training.

x4 you can only get with a crit on x2 so that’s correct. It’s a really, really minor bonus compared to the difference from x2 and x3 and it’s only in there as there as I didn’t want to have a different reward based on how many times it had been completed.

Anonymous: in your some kind of warrior hmv where did you get the illidari, the raided-camp, nightelf deathknight horde toy, corrupted ysera and tyrande/sylvanas/jaina 3girl BJ scenes?Mind give me time stamps as I’m not sure all of those bits you’re referring to. I think most if not all of them are from Rexxworld but I’m happy double checking.] time stamps are 1:12 ish for the illidari, 1:15ish for the camp, 1:52ish for the deathknight, 2:16ish for corrupted ysera, and 2:26ish for the triple BJ

1:12 - zombinansfw.tumblr

1:15 - batesz2.tumblr

1:52 - audiodude.tumblr

2:16 - liard.tumblr

2:26 - dude017.tumblr

Heh whoops, so none by Rexx then though on checking I did find the fourth one from a Rexx reblog.

celticcernunnos: Have you thought about implementing Undead into No Haven? The player can play Necromancers and recruit other Necromancers and the Necromancers turn Slaves into "Undead (Race) (Gender)". The key premise will be that Necromancers are rare and stay at camp while the Undead have few traits and can't train slaves. You swamp tasks with expendable Undead that you don't have to worry about losing. Have the ability to recruit super rare Vampires that are rare Necromancers but with super good traits.

Undead are tricky to me as it’s could be viewed as necrophilia, saying that Blightomancers are already in the game who share many of the same themes as Necromancers while being not quite as in your face about it, there are Wrights as recruitable race who may or may not have been dead once which is something I’m planning to explore, and there are two assignments already involving blight magic.

Vampires I’ve had on the drawing board from day one as one of the advanced races I’ve mentioned on occasion, and I’m really looking forward to finally implementing them as race so you can see all the fun stuff that I have planned for them.

Anonymous: imgur /a/vB4ln so the only way to actually change race/create futa currently is during the arcane winds? (excluding corruption/keldan alley)

Arcane winds don’t work either. Consider those two options as a preview of what incredible feats of biomancy you’ll be able to accomplish later after an assignment chain.

Anonymous: imgur /a/7fieb a bit confusing having the same text for success and failure. Also, like 90% sure it should be "has proven themself"

follow up to text guy, somehow in spite of "failure" she became a slaver anyway?

That’s correct. It’s less likely but it’s possible that even though the assignment wasn’t a success your slavers can think that your slave did enough to prove anyway them self anyway while they were out there.

Anonymous: how about you make a subreddit dedicated to your games, that way people could "publicly" report bugs, collaborate on more detailed reports etc. and have a centralised hub for complaining about dice rolls/percentages

Heh well there’s one reason not to have one right there :D

Seriously though there are already large threads on TFGames and the Hypnopics Collective which I do look at every so often, I believe there have been reddit threads about No Haven before, and I’m sure there’s discussion in other places too.

Anonymous: do you have a hidden biomancy/corruption counter that increases resistance with every application to a person? or am I just that talented at failing 90% rolls?

Corruption yes though that’s mainly just to stop the old really ridiculous outcomes when they’d picked up so many corruptions it kept hitting tornado as one of the few applicable results left, biomancy no, and quite possibly yes :)

Anonymous: Have you ever considered doing a scenario that is less slaver band, and more slaving "company", less reliant on supplies? I actually quite like the management feel of the slave training, but, and this may just be my own play-style, sometimes I feel like less of a slaver and more of a bandit or something who also happens to capture capture and train slaves. Mostly because a combination of marauding and infiltration missions are so lucrative that the profit from selling slaves is just icing.

Possibly yes as the game is more complete. I do think this might well resolve itself as the game progresses and there’s far more variation on what assignments are available. Something I’m keeping an eye on basically.

Anonymous: the 0/0 assigning to bedwarmer is great, but I still can't assign a dominated slave to bed warmer.

Not sure what you mean on the first part, but yeah the other is a good point and will sort.

Anonymous: Hey, what about vaginal virginity? It should be something magic here! Like resistance to fel, power of pure priestess, bonus slave value, and tasty virgin blood for vampires and dark ritual sacrifices!

There’s the Innocent trait already which currently partially reflects virginity as part of a general state of mind and does give a hefty slave value bonus. As others have pointed out though it does have some issues with the descriptions and I’m looking to sort those for the next update.

#Q&A

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eleanor-devil · 8 years ago

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Naruto Fanfic - Boruto: Sacrifices - Chap.18, The Ruined Birthday

IMPORTANT: It would be very very appreciated if you reblogged it and left a comment. We get lots of likes/favs but almost no comments, so please everyone, leave a comment, it encourages us to continue.

Written by my friend @mirage-05

Illustration by @eleanor-devil

prologue, chap.1, chap.2, chap.3, chap.4, chap.5, chap.6, chap.7, chap.8, chap.9, chap.10, chap.11, chap.12, chap.13, chap.14, chap.15, chap.16, chap.17, chap.18, chap.19

For more Sacrifices stuff, click on this link

Sacrifices

Chapter 18 - The Ruined Birthday

The day was supposed to be a happy one... but... of course due to recent circumstances it was everything but a happy day... and even less when the person for whom this day was supposed to be special... simply refused to celebrate. "I don't want a birthday party, I don't want to celebrate anything, I DON'T care it's my friggin' birthday! Just leave me alone!" yelled Boruto as he stomped away from his family. That's right, it was the Hokage's eldest child's thirteenth birthday, but Boruto didn't want to celebrate anything at all... not when his best friend was in the fragile condition he was. The blond shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and kicked a small rock that went stumbling away, crashing a few times against the floor before coming to a stop. "How can they even ask me to celebrate anything..." he mumbled as he continued walking. But then his eyes softened a little... deep down he knew that his family wasn't trying to be mean or anything like that... they had just thought that perhaps a party would have cheered him up... But he also knew that no party, no celebration would make this better... What would it mean if one of the most important persons in his life was not going to be there...?

He hunched a little, walking aimlessly, just following his steps wherever they take him. They had no training, so he spent most of his free time - and he had many right now - either worrying out of his mind about his friend or trying to find a way to get him to... Well he didn't tell this latter to anyone, because he didn't want anyone to jump on him and say it would be no use, that it was all up to Mitsuki right now... He felt a pang in his heart. How was he doing right now...? He heard someone call his name, and just out of instinct, looked up. "Hi..." It was the InoShikaCho trio approaching, and it had been Inojin who spoke. "Uh, hap..." He was cut in by a look from the blond. "Please, just don't..." Boruto mumbled. Inojin looked surprised for a moment but a look at his childhood friend's eyes and he understood why he didn't want to be congratulated on his special day. He heard Shikadai sigh and looked to see his teammate shaking his head, it looked like a disapproving shake but Boruto hadn't seem to have noticed it... or if he had, he was being quite good at hiding it. "Hey, you guys." another voice joined them. The group turned around to see Metal approaching them. This time, before he could even get a word out, Boruto cut in. "Guys, I... appreciate, but I'm not gonna celebrate this day. I can't. So please... Don't wish me..." He couldn't even get that word out. How could this day be happy? "I just... gotta go now... See you around when today is over." And with that he just left, again all alone... And also left behind really worried friends. Inojin sighed. "This can't go on like this... this whole situation isn't just affecting Boruto but Sarada too." "Well what do you want to do? Force them to smile?" asked Chocho as she ate another chip. "No but I also don't want to leave them depressed..." "Inojin is right, there has to be something we can do," said Metal. Inojin thought about it for a moment, then sighed again. "Chocho, why don't you go check on Sarada, see if she needs anything else, besides a little morale... And we should go find Boruto, too." "What? Why me...?" Chocho asked, suddenly very awkward. "I don't even know what to tell her..." "You're her best friend, you'll figure out something." And with that the boys left, leaving behind a sweating Akimichi. ... "Oh man..." she mumbled before turning on her heels and going to look for her friend. "Where would she be anyway..." She thought of any possibilities of where her black haired friend would be. Lucky for her, she didn't have to look much for she found Sarada sitting down on the training camp, under the shadow of a tree. The position she was immediately gave away how down the girl was, which made Chocho sweat even more... knees pulled up against her chest and arms wrapped around them, head in between the arms and face hidden from everyone. Sighing, the Akimichi climbed down the stairs and approached her friend... she didn't say anything... She just... sat down, right next to her while chewing on a chip. Trying to figure out what to say or do. "Hey Sarada..." she finally said. "Um...chips?" She extended the package towards the black haired girl. Today... was the day. The day they were supposed to throw what seemed back then like a very childish party to the girl. Her eyes brimmed with tears, remembering how her friend had said they were children, supposed to enjoy while they're at it... 'Make it count...' Mitsuki's voice echoed in her head, reciting the last sentence of the letter he had written. She wasn't exactly sure how she was supposed to do that... Just when she was thinking about all these, suddenly a bag of chips were thrust under her nose, and she turned her head only a little to see her best friend, Chocho there. She just looked at her for a second before turning her gaze back to her hands. "No... Thanks..." Sighing, Chocho retracted the bag and chewed a few more while thinking of what she should say... She didn't particularly knew much about Mitsuki, despite the continuous teasing she did while saying that he wanted to confess to her. She just knew that he had moved to Konoha about a year ago, that he and Boruto were best friends and always hung out together... well, pretty much what everyone knew. "Look um... I'm... sure that he would want you to smile... I mean that's how he was right? Always smiling somehow..." Her friend's words made the Uchiha did a double take, and she started shaking a little, although she tried to control it the best she can. "Please... Chocho..." She mumbled in a broken voice. "Please don't talk about him like he's already gone..." She knew Chocho didn't mean it that way, that she was trying to talk to her but... Her words just made her remember the times he saw Mitsuki smile... He was indeed carefree most of the time, enjoying what he had more than any of them ever did... Why... why did it have to be him...? Whatever did he do to deserve this...? Her arms tightened a little more around her legs, the vision of his friend's last smile on the hospital bed suddenly flashing in front of her eyes... Chocho indeed noticed her friend starting to shake. Shoot, she had said it wrong... she really didn't know what else to say considering that the subject was so... touchy. "Uh..." she started while looking down. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that..." she sighed one more time before looking at her shaking friend. She bit the inside of her cheek before scooting closer to the Uchiha and wrapping an arm around her. "Look I'm... not good at this stuff but... I'm here okay...? If you... want to talk..." She didn't even realize how much she needed someone at this time... Even if just to cry on her shoulder... Before she knew it, she had completely turned to the girl, throwing her arms around her and burying her head on her shoulder as tears begin to escape her eyes. "All I can see... All I can remember now is him... dying right in front of me..." She managed to say in between the sobs, words tumbling on each other in her desperation to let it all out. "I wasn't able to do anything... It didn't work... I just... I..." she couldn't complete her sentence as she completely broke down. "There there... you know it's not your fault, Sarada. You did everything you could." Chocho managed to say those words after her friend broke down on her shoulder. "He'll be okay... he is a strong kid, right...? He'll be okay..." Even though she wasn't sure of those words... ... Boruto had just wandered into a kid's playground and he had no idea of how he came there, but it wasn't like it really mattered. It wasn't like he cared at all. He walked over to the swings, sitting on one of them and just staying there, not even moving a little to swing. How simple... how untouched would things have been if they were just small kids? "Boruto..." he heard someone calling for him but he didn't look up, lacking the energy to even give a reply. "Boruto..." the second voice came. "We know you're down because of what happened but... we're your friends too, and we want to help." There was a moment of hesitation. "Please don't push us away..." He recognized that voice as Metal's. But he still didn't look up. "Tch... you are just being a drag..." Boruto's hands tightened a little more on the swing's ropes, but he still didn't say anything, still didn't look up. That person wasn't about to give up though. "You act like you're crying over a girlfriend who dumped you. Get a hold on, already." "Shikadai!" Inojin exclaimed unbelievably, turning to look at his friend. Boruto finally looked up, directly in Shikadai's eyes, fire burning in his own. "Shut the hell up. What do you know?" Shikadai's teal eyes were hard and cold, just like his mothers were when she was very serious. "I know that you are being a cry baby, Boruto," he said. "Life has to move on! What if he doesn't wake up? What if he stays forever in that hospital bed? Are you going to be depressed over him for the rest of your life?" Images of the nightmare he had nights ago returned to Boruto's mind. "Do you think he would want you to be like this? All depressed, making others around you feel depressed as well?" Boruto closed his eyes for a moment, as he felt himself shaking a little. "What do I know what he wants...? He is not here to tell me..." He didn't care about what Shikadai just said, how was he supposed to know how the life would move on? Before he knew it, his bitter side was taking over, and although he knew deep down that his friends were only worried for him, it was unfortunately directed to them. "You don't have to hang around if you feel depressed... doesn't look like it will pass away." This time it was not Shikadai talking, Metal did while frowning. "Do you think we're going to leave when you need us most? What kind of friends would we be if we did that?" Boruto didn't say anything to it but he felt Inojin walking up and kneeling down in front of him. "We don't have to celebrate anything if you don't want to but... if it makes you feel better, we can all go visit him. We're here for you, Boruto... like Metal said, we are your friends too and if you need someone, we're here..." "You don't know how it was like..." the blond mumbled, staring at the ground. "To have him dying in my arms... Life leaving his eyes as he bleed out... His..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling hard. "When his heart stopped... I can't keep these images out of my head... I don't know what to do if he doesn't..." He couldn't finish his sentence. And he didn't need to finish... because Inojin pulled him in a hug that slowly gathered the other two boys too. "It will be okay, he will be okay. He is strong and we all know it..." Boruto just broke down right there and then. Sobbing his heart out as the images of his friend dying flashed in his head. He tried, he really did, tried to replace those images with the happiest ones he could ever remember. He wasn't even sure how long they stood there, but realized just the presence of his friends easing up his pain little by little. It was still there, he knew it wouldn't go away completely no matter what, not until Mitsuki wakes up, but it was becoming manageable, and eventually the sobs calmed down, leaving the boy only trembling a little. Then they heard soft footsteps, and someone cleared her throat. "Boruto...?" he heard Sarada's voice, and he looked up. The one thing he immediately noticed was that her eyes brimmed red... like she was crying too. Then he noticed ChoCho by her side. "There is... something I want to show you." Inojin slowly got up. "Well... we had to go anyway." "No." Sarada said, her voice a little clearer. "You can come too." Boruto got up from the swing. "Yes... Guys, I'm sorry. You can come with us. We would like that." They didn't say anything, they just showed a small, grateful smile. Boruto wiped the tears away from his eyes. "Alright then... let's go. Lead the way, Sarada." The Uchiha girl nodded and the group left the playground. They all followed in silence the black haired girl and soon they found themselves in the deeps of Konoha's forest. Boruto knew where this would lead to but he wondered what exactly his childhood friend wanted to show him there. As they slowly made their way to the edge of the cliff overlooking the huge waterfall... The scene that met their eyes made Boruto come to a staggering halt, his eyes widening slightly. "Wh... Wha..." he tried to say, but words were failing him. The scene in front of him reminded him of a film he watched and talked to his friends about some time ago, he didn't remember when... A make-shift boat stood to the edge of the cliff, with what he was sure "Team Konohamaru" written on its prow, some of the words missing... A black cloth was attached to the ledge which stood in the middle of the boat, with a white skull figure on it - although the skull looked anything but intimidating, there was actually a smile on it, if anything, it looked a little creepy. Various other decorations and accessories laid scattered around, as if they were booty that they had gathered... Sarada went and picked up something. "This was our surprise... Or his, actually he planned the whole thing, I just helped." She turned to him, holding a multi-colored wooden parrot in her hands, tears filling in her eyes. "Happy birthday," she whispered, giving him a small smile. Boruto continued gaping, speechless, as he carefully took the wooden parrot in his hands, he took it with such care as if it would break right there and then. He couldn't believe Mitsuki had done this...how had he even managed to keep it in secret all this time? That boy sure was a box of surprises... The blond felt his throat starting to burn, he opened his mouth but no words came out, just a simple gasp... "That..." he finally managed to say. "...that guy..." he was clearly emotional with the situation. "He went out of his way to keep it from you," Sarada continued, almost in a haste, as if to cover the bitterness of this moment with happy memories. "He dragged me out of my home at six in the morning you know... a-and r-remember how your mama and Himawari showed up at the end of our training, h-he... made them promise too, and..." Her breath was hitching a little. The Uchiha pressed her hands over her eyes, shaking her head a little. "Goodness, he told me to make it count... I'm messing this up..." "Guys... it's alright, let it go if you need it..." Inojin said carefully. They had been just looking around unbelievably, not knowing what to say. "So almost everyone... knew..." Boruto whispered between his heavy breath, he tried to keep the tears from falling but it didn't work... they just came back and started falling from his eyes... All the others remained in silence while watching the two friends cry... "And above all...he chose this place..." "He never told me why he chose here..." Sarada mumbled, looking around. "J-just said you two made a promise..." She watched as Boruto shut his eyes tight, his hands shaking. "I... I'm sorry..." She didn't mean to cause the blond even more pain... He didn't want to talk about it. About their promise... they had both sworn... and be remembered Mitsuki's words from only a few days ago... 'I can't give you a promise I can't keep...' [Flashback] "Jump!" Boruto lost his balance when he reached the edge of the cliff, flailed his arms wildly for a bit, then both him and Mitsuki tumbled down. It was exhilarating! He couldn't help but scream in excitement as they fell down some meters below into the river. The chilling water cut his breath on impact and for a while, stars danced in front of his eyes. Then he kicked up and burst through the surface, laughing joyously. "Haha, that was priceless, don't you agree?" There were no replies. Confused more than concerned, Boruto looked around. Where was Mitsuki? They had both jumped in... didn't they? Fear hit him at the possibility, and he immediately looked up... He could see no one at the top of the cliff... Not even the thug was there, which made the blond frown - what was going on?! "Mitsu-!" just then, a hand was clamped on his mouth, and he struggled to get free of it. "Not now." came his friend's voice from behind him and Boruto felt himself immediately relaxing. "He could be around here, we should stay low." And so they retreated back to hide behind a rock, eyes keen and watching everywhere as they listened on to the sounds... It took a while... and the voice was dimmed due to the roar of the waterfall, but finally they heard something. "Boruto? Mitsuki! Come out wherever you are now!" "That's sensei..." the blond said, looking at his friend in relief. They both came out of their hiding spot, looking upwards. Hands on her knees and bending a little forward to see clearly, Sarada pointed. "There they are, sensei!" Konohamaru breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that his students were safe. "Come up here quickly!" he called towards the duo again, then looked at the man he had just caught and bound. "We have a package to deliver and we can't lose time!" "Yeah yeah, we will be up there in a minute!" Hearing the lazy and carefree tone in Boruto's voice, the jounin felt his temper rising slightly. "There is no time to dawdle! Get moving - now!" Mitsuki looked at his friend. "I believe it would be wise to do as we are told." "Yeah, they can wait a little." Boruto said, still carefree. "First I want to make sure of something." Mitsuki raised an eyebrow at this - leave it to Boruto to get on the nerves of their sensei. "What is it? I'm positive that Konohamaru sensei took care of that thug." "Nah, it's not about that." But the blond made no further explanation as they waddled their way ashore, which made the blue-haired preteen even more curious. "Boruto..." Then his friend finally turned to him. "Oka- whoa...!" before losing his balance and tumbling on the ground. Mitsuki laughed for a little, which earned him a scowl from Boruto, but in a moment it was replaced by a smirk and the blond reached up to pull his friend down as well. In the next minute, they were both laughing their heads off. "Okay. This calls for a promise." the Uzumaki said all of a sudden, catching Mitsuki by surprise. "What promise are you talking about?" "Simple. Promise me that, just like today, we will always be by each other's side, no matter what, always there to help each other." Boruto raised his fist. "And I promise the same to you." Mitsuki looked at him for a second before raising his fist and bumping it against Boruto's. "I promise." [End of Flashback] (1) As Boruto reopened his eyes, determination shone in them. "I made up my mind," he whispered softly. "Huh?" asked Sarada, confused. "I want to celebrate my birthday after all." the blond said a little more clearly, finally letting his gaze drift away from the blanket of white on the ground. This sudden change in his resolve was certainly unexpected, but it managed to bring a smile to his friends' faces. "Well, that's great," Metal said, they were all relieved that Boruto was able to snap out of it. "So if you still want we can-" "Guys, um... I'm sorry..." the blond said sheepishly, bringing his hand to his neck. "Can we... do that later...? I... kinda have to make up for someone else first." "Oh... uh, sure..." Inojin said with a bright smile, one which made Boruto feel a little ashamed because of the way he treated them earlier. "We'll arrange that later." Then, one by one, all of his friends came forward to hug him. "Happy birthday, Boruto." "Thanks, you guys," he said, finally managing a small smile. He and Sarada watched until their friends were out of sight. Then the blond took the Uchiha's hand. "Come on." "Where are we going?" "You'll see." Not saying anything else to her, he took out his cellphone. "Hello, mom? Mom, I'm really sorry about the way I behaved... I-I want to celebrate my birthday..." Boruto smiled as he, undoubtedly, heard Hinata's happy tone. "Can all of you meet us in the hospital...?" ... The snow was spiraling down in a white haze out of the building, piling up on the already thick blanket on the ground. The building itself was alight, the windows glowing in the darkness. One of the rooms had a very lively party going on inside, as lively as the hospital rules allowed of course. The room contained the youngest patient in the hospital currently, a twelve year old hero. The hustle and bustle that was going on was a courtesy of his best friend, Uzumaki Boruto, who had insisted that if he was going to have any kind of celebration for his birthday... it was gonna have to include his best friend. Boruto smiled brightly as those who gathered in the room finished the birthday song, and then he leaned forward to blow the candles out. He was wearing a pirate hat that his friends had bought, and (because they couldn't make it sit on his shoulder) the wooden parrot was standing on the table beside him. Claps echoed around the room; the entirety of the Uzumaki and Uchiha families were inside the room, plus Konohamaru. They were all practically cramped in the room, and although they had received some stink eyes, seeing the circumstances, they were allowed in; with the pretense that the visit should be short. Which Sakura felt the need to remind them of after they finished their share of the cake. "I'm sorry, but this is as far as I can let you be in here." she said, with an understanding smile directed to the birthday boy, Sarada and Himawari. Himawari pouted and let out a long 'aww' before Sarada walked over to her and put her hands on her shoulder to lead her out. The adults followed not too long after, after wishing Boruto the best for his new year. When everyone left, the blond eyed Sakura a little nervously. "Aunt Sakura... can I please stay a little more?" The look in the pink haired woman's eyes only softened more. "Of course, dear, but no more than five minutes." He just nodded and watched until Sakura was out before turning his head back at his friend once again... [Flashback] "Oww!" Boruto flinched a little as Mitsuki gave a short yelp of pain following a thud. He... wasn't exactly adjusted to darkness as he would like to think, plus not knowing Mitsuki's house good enough... didn't help with things much. Which was something his blue-haired friend pointed out soon enough. "I still don't understand why I have to be led into my own house blindfolded, Boruto..." "You'll see in a minute," the blond said, barely being able to hold back a chuckle. He didn't want to give anything away. He wanted everything to be great... he wanted his best friend to feel he was welcomed... And in his mind? This was the best opportunity. "At least don't make me bump into another thing, okay?" "Yeah, yeah," the blond said cheerily. "Hey, wait over here for a moment, will you? I'll be right back..." "Boruto..." there was a warning tone in the younger boy's voice. "Don't open your eyes until I say so!" Boruto called before carefully finding his way to the couch and hiding behind it... coming face to face with his little sister. "Can't believe you almost blew our cover!" Himawari whispered indignantly." "Look who's talking! Keep your voice down, will you!" "Boruto!" Mitsuki's voice came, impatient. "Can we get over with this already?" "Well?" Sarada asked from the other corner. "Any reason to keep waiting?" "Is there anyone else here?" this time, Mitsuki sounded confused. Well... he couldn't see any point in hiding anymore. The blond gave a small nod, and Himawari darted towards the kitchen to notify their mothers, who had been taking care of the cake. They then heard Mitsuki sigh. "This is getting ridiculous..." Boruto felt more than saw what his friend was about to do - and it was too early for it! So when he saw the trio coming out of the kitchen already - he rushed forward to stop them... just when Sarada noticed something and plopped out of her hiding spot to alert them... And that was how Mitsuki found them when he turned on the lights. Himawari, Hinata and Sakura coming out of the kitchen, Hinata holding a huge cake with lit candles on it, Boruto practically on his tiptoes as he was trying to approach them discreetly and Sarada, frozen in the middle of waving her arms towards their direction, half-seen behind the armchair... all of them comically stopped in their tracks. To break through the awkwardness of the situation, Himawari bent down to snatch a handful of confetti they had previously thrown around for decoration and just threw them over. "Happy birthday, Mitsu-nii!" The blue-haired boy was so baffled that for a moment, he could do nothing but look around at the decorations with widened golden eyes. "W... what is..." Following his sister's lead, Boruto snapped out of his stance and came over to his friend's side, putting an arm on his shoulder as he grinned widely. "Don't tell me you forgot it! Happy birthday, Mitsuki!" The boy was still at a loss for words. "I..." "Sorry it's not that much," the blond continued almost sheepishly, but he couldn't keep the glee out of his voice anyway. "I wanted to do something more detailed since it's your first birthday here, it should be special, and man, twelve is an important age..." Hinata gave a soft chuckle at her overly-enthusiastic son. "Boruto, just give him a breath of fresh air..." "...and we would've arranged something more if you told us about this previously, I mean, who says it's his birthday just the day before it?! It's a crime, I'm telling you..." "Boruto." Mitsuki finally managed to cut in, and his voice sounded strangely tight. "It's... it's okay, I really like it..." "Aw, well," the blond said, oblivious to his friend getting emotional. "Tell me about that again when you see what I have in stock for next year..." "That is a long stretch of time..." Sarada pointed out, sweat-dropping. "Come on... at least let him blow out the candles before they go out, okay...?" [End of Flashback] Boruto sighed. "You do realize you raised the stakes too high, right? How am I even gonna compete with this on your next birthday? There should be a middle ground before you reach the peak, y'know?" Obviously, there were no answers. But the blond didn't seem to be disheartened by it... his smile didn't falter. "It's alright... Even if you can't reply to me, I know you can still hear. So listen closely," he said crisply, straightening himself a little. "When you come back, I want a full-fledged birthday party." The look in his eyes softened. "And I know you will come back... because the Mitsuki I know never gives up, and always keeps his promises." He bumped his fist against his friend's, just like how they did back then. Better not strain aunt Sakura's tolerance. Just when he was about to walk out... an idea came to his mind. He brought a hand to his necklace and looked back at his friend, then determination filled his eyes. He took the necklace out and walked over to the bedside table on which he had left the wooden parrot. "Uncle Neji..." he whispered as he put the necklace on it, his hand staying over it for a minute. "If you can hear me, please help my friend find his way back to us..." He then turned and walked towards the door, and turned back to look at Mitsuki again. "It can't be his time just yet..." ... The change in the blond was immediately noticed when he returned to his family's side. "Onii-chan, where is your necklace?" Himawari asked curiously. In turn, Boruto gave her a big smile. "It's alright, Hima... I just lent it to someone who needs it more."

Author’s Notes:

(1) You might remember this mission from chp15, Boruto's nightmare - this is the true ending of it, and the famous promise So before I leave it for the day... I'm gonna have to notify you about some changes within the plotline ^^ - We used to have our own birthdates for the children because this story started way before any canon material... but as it was getting confusing when trying to set the timeline right, we both decided to turn back to the canon dates. So according to this; Himawari- July 15th (until further notice) Boruto- May 12th (until further notice) Sarada- March 31st Mitsuki- July 25th Shikadai- September 23rd Chouchou- August 8th Metal Lee- February 21st (until further notice) Inojin- December 5th We also made it that... Boruto just turns 13 here while Sarada and Mitsuki are 12. And Hima is now 4 years younger than the main next gen, instead of the original 6. - So obviously... our timeline changed too xD Sacrifices was previously set in March, now it's set in January. It's been 4 days since Mitsu fell in coma by the way - After long and grueling discussions about how we can do just that... we finally decided to add Log into the story! - As for that fact, you might also know that there are OCs that will be introduced in this and the following stories. Like the Naruto generation, we have 12 rookies from Konoha; Team Konohamaru, InoShikaCho, Metal's Team (with his teammates, Asahi and Fuuto being OCs) and a team led by Kiba! Who is also consisting of OCs Some majorly important characters for Sacrifices are; Natsumi: I think most of you already know her She's Kankuro's daughter, Gaara's niece and two years younger than the main next gen, just like Karura and Inochi (all OCs of Eleanor-Devil )

Beika: A member of Team Kiba and the grandson of the owner of Ichiraku Ramen, Teuchi, Beika specializes in shielding techniques. He's the same age as the next gen. (OC by mirage-05 )

Sarutobi Ichiro: He's Kichiro's, the head of Sarutobi clan, grandson and he is very close to his grandfather... hence he will annoy you a lot Two years older than the main next gen. (OC by mirage-05 )

#naruto #boruto #mitsuki #sarada #shikadai #inojin #metal lee #chocho #fanfic #sacrifices #oc #naruto oc

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perspective-series · 5 years ago

Text

Meta Perspective (10)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Slight fear and injury mention

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

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Patton hopped up the stairs, Virgil close behind as he made sure his pocket was still during the ride up the stairs. The one that held Amanda. Having her the entire day had made him a bit paranoid but things had gone relatively smoothly, so that was a plus.

He stopped, however, when he saw two familiar faces at their door. “Roman? Logan?” Patton asked. “What are you doing here?”

Virgil came up next to them a gave them a confused look. They usually texted when they were on their way over.

Logan was tense, stiff as a board as he attempted not to move and jostle Allison in any way. Luckily, Roman jumped to his aid.

“We were waiting for you!” Roman explained. “We...need to talk to the two of you.” Roman hesitated slightly, realizing they hadn’t exactly rehearsed what exactly they would say to their two best friends slash possible kidnappers. “Although I think it would be best for all involved if we discuss this inside.”

Amanda froze, hearing the mention of other humans. That...certainly wasn’t part of the plan. Though she may be growing comfortable around her humans, Amanda was still wary of meeting any more.

“Oh! Um, okay?” Patton moved past them to unlock the door and Virgil gave Roman and Logan a look.

“The two of you are acting weird…”

“I’ve never acted weird in my life!” Roman insisted.

Logan followed him into the apartment, looking almost like a mannequin with his inhuman movements.

“...Right.” Virgil said, also stepping into his apartment. He glanced over at Logan, eyebrow raised at how he was walking. “Um, L you good there?”

Logan froze. “...I am functional.”

Virgil frowned at that but Patton spoke up before Virgil could. “So! What did you want to talk about?” Patton asked.

Roman took a large dramatic step forwards, pointing an accusing finger at the pair. “Are you or are you not harboring a tiny humanoid captive?”

Logan smacked his own forehead.

Inside Patton’s pocket, Amanda paid rapt attention to the conversation going on above her. How could these other humans possibly have reason to suspect she was here?

Allison groaned. She had wanted this done subtly! Now the other humans were going to suspect she was there.

Both Patton and Virgil froze. “Um, we uh, we have no idea what you’re talking about.” Patton put on an innocent smile. Meanwhile, Virgil was slightly panicking. Had they not hidden Amanda as well as they thought?

“I think you know exactly what we’re talking about.” Roman insisted, noticing their unease.

“Amanda.” Logan piped up, deciding to cut straight to the point. “We are referring to Amanda.”

Amanda hadn’t thought her back muscles could get more tense. How did these humans possibly know her name? Did Virgil and Patton tell them about her? Was she being set up?

At the sound of Amanda’s name, Virgil stepped in front of Patton, glaring at his two friends. “...How do you know about her?”

Allison’s breath hitched. Oh no, she wasn’t ready for this. Please don’t reveal me.

“A little birdie told us,” Roman answered, realizing it wasn’t that far from the truth. “And we will not stand by and let our best friends be kidnappers any longer!”

Amanda’s eyes widened, beginning to gain an inkling of what was actually going on.

“Wha..? We’re not kidnappers!” Patton exclaimed. “She’s not here against her will!” Well, not anymore.

Allison tensed. What? No, that couldn’t be true. They were obviously lying.

Logan and Roman glanced at each other.

“Prove it.” Roman narrowed his gaze.

“Indeed, we would require significant proof of such a claim.” Logan backed him up.

Patton and Virgil shared a glance with one another. “Uh, one moment.” Patton excused himself and Virgil as they both disappeared into Patton’s bedroom. Once inside, Patton carefully took Amanda out of his pocket and, after checking her over to make sure she was okay, asked, “So...what should we do?”

“Well…” Amanda thought about it, her heart pounding. If her suspicions were correct and Allison was involved in all this, then maybe these humans weren’t so bad. Especially considering the fact that Allison was too timid to get involved with anything but the nicest of humans.

Of course, Amanda also had to consider the path where she was wrong and Allison wasn’t involved. Was she really comfortable revealing herself to two human strangers? The idea seemed daunting, but they were Virgil and Patton’s friends. That meant they couldn’t be too bad...right?

“What do you guys think of them?” Amanda asked, deciding she needed a second opinion.

“Aww, they’re the best! Roman can get excitable and Logan has trouble expressing himself most of the time but they really are good people.” Patton smiled.

Virgil shrugged. “Roman’s a bit more than excitable but otherwise, yeah, they’re good.”

“...I think they might have found my friend.” Amanda admitted.

Patton blinked. “Your...friend?”

Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, since when did you have a friend?” This was news to the both of them.

“I have a life outside of you two, you know.” Amanda reminded them.

“Oh, I know!” Patton was quick to say. “I just, well, I guess I never thought about there being others like you. Though, I guess it only makes sense, huh?” Patton chuckled sheepishly.

Virgil frowned, remembering what Amanda had just said. “So, wait, you have a friend and you think Logan and Roman have them?”

“Well, she is the only one besides you two who knows my name in the building.” Amanda looked between the two of them. “So, unless it’s an uncanny coincidence, or one of you two told them about me…” Amanda trailed off, having not completely ruled out the possibility.

Patton put a hand up in a sort of surrender. “We didn’t! We wouldn’t, we promise. Right, Virgil?” Patton turned to his friend, who nodded.

“Yeah, we didn’t tell anyone. Despite whatever you still may think of us, we wouldn’t do that to you.” Virgil said.

“Sorry.” Amanda winced. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, I just thought...maybe earlier...whatever. Doesn’t matter.” Amanda shook her head. “Then it’s either sheer dumb luck, or they found Allison.”

“Well...what should we do?” Patton asked. “Do you...want to reveal yourself? Or maybe we can get Allison back another way?”

“...I’m not sure,” Amanda admitted. It felt wrong to reveal herself and possibly put Allison at risk if she wasn’t already involved, but at the same time, it seemed as though there could be no other foreseeable outcome.

“Well, we have to do something. They’re waiting out there as we speak and coming in here already basically confirmed you’re here, so we can’t exactly tell them you’re not.” Virgil spoke, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, you’re right.” Amanda groaned, hating to admit that. “I just...they’re your friends, right? Do you think that would go, I dunno,” Amanda twiddled her thumbs anxiously, “...poorly?”

They both shared a glance. “It shouldn't,” Patton said. “If anything, we won’t let it.” He said with a determined look.

“I think it could have gone worse if they didn’t already know about you but since they do…” Virgil shrugged.

“Okay. Okay okay okay.” Amanda gave herself a shake, psyching herself up. “Let’s do this then. Quickly, before I lose my nerve again.”

“You just want me to...carry you out there? Like this?” Patton asked.

“Patton I said quickly!” Amanda rubbed against her forehead, feeling tense. “Now you’re making me second guess it again!”

“Ah! R-Right!” Patton wasted no time in heading out the door and back into the living room. Virgil was quick to follow and Patton bit his lip as he looked between Amanda and his friends.

Logan’s eyes widened, almost unnerved to see another girl so small. This borrower sat atop Patton’s palms, and just as Allison had said Logan was concerned to see she looked injured.

“...Amanda?” Roman guessed, taking a step forward.

Amanda hesitantly nodded.

“And she can tell you herself that she isn’t here against her will,” Virgil said with crossed arms.

Allison desperately wanted to see Amanda for herself but she was still scared to pop her head out and be seen by these new humans. She still didn’t believe them, how could she with the state she saw Amanda in?

Roman and Logan looked to Amanda expectantly.

Amanda pursed her lips, torn between her desire to thwart Virgil and her desire to not anger four human beans at once.

“...I’m not being held against my will.” Amanda finally admitted.

“How were you injured?” Logan pressed, remaining unconvinced.

“Ah…” Amanda winced. “Long story?”

“She got her leg stuck in some string. That’s how I first met her, actually.” Patton explained.

“She also jumped off the bed, which was her own fault.” Virgil also chimed in. “Anyway, enough about Amanda for a second.” His eyes narrowed at his friends. “Because she seems to think you have a...friend, of hers.”

“Where’s Allison?” Amanda pointed an accusing finger at the human Beans.

Roman and Logan shared a glance with one another. “...just one moment, please.” Roman excused them both as this time it was their turn to disappear out into the hall. Once there, Logan held open his pocket, Roman peering over the edge.

“So, what should we do?” Roman asked.

Allison bit her lip. “I-I don’t know…” What if Amanda was being forced to say those things? But...knowing Amanda, if she was being forced to say something she probably wouldn’t even say it. So...did that mean she really was okay? That those humans were...okay?

“Do...do you believe them?” Allison asked, looking up at the two humans.

“It seems a plausible explanation, given the state of her injuries.” Logan reasoned. “Although I am a bit confused by the implication of her bringing herself to harm throwing herself off furniture.”

“Yeah…” If they weren’t keeping her captive, why would she feel the need to do that? Allison groaned, knowing what she would have to do. “I think...I think I need to reveal myself. I need to talk to Amanda and that’s the only way it’s going to happen.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Roman said. “We’ll support you no matter what, and we can guarantee nothing will happen to you either way.”

“Guarantee is perhaps the wrong term.” Logan corrected. “After all, we cannot predict any and all outcomes.”

“...fine.” Roman gave the nerd a brief glare. “We will protect you no matter what. There, happy ya linguist?”

Allison felt a small smile growing on her face. “Th-Thank you.” Now to get out of this pocket, she shifted and managed to get to a stand but was now just hanging off the lip of the pocket. “Um...a little help?” She asked shyly.

Roman glanced to Logan.

“Me?” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it is your pocket.” Roman reasoned. Frankly, he was beginning to feel odd about focusing so much of his attention into Logan’s chest pocket.

Logan carefully maneuvered his fingers into the pocket, gently lifting Allison out. He set her down on his palm, just as Patton had done with Amanda.

Allison shook slightly as she sat on Logan’s palm. She had been hoping Roman would help her out but she supposed it made sense for Logan to get her. Still...Logan was still not her favorite person.

“All set?” Roman glanced back, his hand already on the door handle. With a nod from Logan, Roman dramatically threw it open. “All right! Everyone, this is Allison.” Roman stepped to the side, allowing Allison to be seen as Logan entered the room.

Amanda’s eyes widened, shocked to see her assumptions confirmed as Allison sat openly in a palm just like herself. “Allison?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.” Roman nodded.

Allison laid eyes on Amanda and her eyes widened. “Amanda!” She felt a smile come on her face but then she met eyes with the other two humans and she started to shake again.

Patton nor Virgil could believe their eyes, despite the fact they both knew Amanda. It was just strange, seeing another borrower. Patton, however, noticed Allison’s fear and he gave her a gentle smile. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re not going to do anything, promise.”

“He’s harmless,” Amanda assured her, finding it almost odd that someone was afraid of Patton despite herself being frightened of him just the other day. Amanda glanced up at the human holding Allison. “...what about him?”

Logan bit the interior of his lip, concerned about Allison’s response.

Allison looked behind her, remembering whose hands she was in. “Uhh…” What did she say? “He hasn’t...hurt me?” Physically, at the very least.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, looking to Logan. “And what is that supposed to mean?” He crossed his arms. Patton was now looking at Logan with a confused and concerned expression.

Roman muttered something about an idiot jar.

“I placed her inside a mason jar for an extended period of time,” Logan admitted guiltily.

Amanda’s eyes widened. So, it seemed Allison hadn’t gotten quite as lucky as herself and had ended up with regular, bad, run-of-the-mill humans.

“And what did you do?” Amanda turned to point an accusatory finger at the other human.

“I didn’t do anything!” Roman raised his hands in self-defense.

“Logan, how could you?” Patton said, still hung up on what Logan had said. Virgil had glared at Logan but was now on Roman as well.

“Don’t lie, Princey,” Virgil said.

Allison looked between Virgil and Patton, surprised by how much they seemed to care about what had happened to her. “I mean...Roman wasn’t too bad.” Allison admitted. At least he hadn’t trapped her in a jar.

“Are you okay, Allison?” Amanda leaned forwards, looking at her friend earnestly. “Are you being held against your will?”

“Now hold on a moment, we were supposed to be rescuing you!” Roman pointed out, confused on how this encounter had turned so accusatory.

“She doesn’t need rescuing,” Virgil said. “But by the sounds of things, Allison might.”

“N-No! I…” Allison sighed. “No, not-not anymore. They let me go and I came back because I thought...I thought you needed help.” Allison said, looking at Amanda.

“...oh.” Amanda was certainly surprised to hear such a tale. Allison must have been really concerned about her to go back to all that; Amanda felt a bit guilty for not trying to get a message to her. “Well thank you, but no. I’m good.”

“Well...I’m glad about that,” Allison said with a smile. She glanced at Patton and Virgil.

“Yeah, see. Nothing to worry about.” Patton smiled. “She’s in good hands. Literally!” She grinned as he held her up slightly.

“Pat…” Amanda rolled her eyes, letting out an amused snort.

Roman watched the pair of them, his defensive posture slowly deflating. “So...if you’re not in danger...what now?” He looked back to Allison, not sure what the plan was now.

Allison noticed Roman looking at her. “Oh! Uh...I-I don’t know.” She turned to look at Amanda. “Are you...staying here?” She asked.

“Well, I mean… I was planning on it.” Amanda shifted slightly, embarrassed to admit her clearly against the rules plan to another borrower. “I have to allow my leg to heal a bit more.”

“Oh, right.” Allison bit her lip. “I mean, as long as you feel safe with them then...I guess it’s okay?” Having humans around to help would probably help her leg heal up faster too.

Patton grinned. “You’re welcome to stay here if you want! Unless you’re going to stay with…” he glanced between Logan and Roman.

“Uhh…” Allison didn’t know.

“Yeah! You could stay with us!” Amanda’s eyes brightened at this suggestion. It would certainly be fun to have everybody together.

“You are, of course, under no obligation to stay with us,” Logan assured her.

“...right.” Roman murmured, confirming Logan’s statement as he looked down at his shoes. It made sense that Allison would want to stay with another borrower, after all.

Allison looked between Logan and Roman and then at Amanda and Patton and Logan. She really did want to be with Amanda again. It had seemed like forever since she had last seen her, especially when she thought she was never going to see her again. But at the same time…

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “I um...I’ll probably swing by later.” She still needed to properly talk with Amanda, after all. “But...I’m tired. I think-I think I just want to go home for a little bit.” Now that she knew Amanda was safe, she could finally relax.

“Well, our home is always open to ya!” Patton exclaimed.

Amanda blinked, surprised and almost hurt that Allison had rejected the offer. Of course, as Amanda glanced at Allison’s humans she understood. Amanda didn’t want to go with new humans either.

“I guess we’ll see you later then,” Amanda said. She wondered if Allison would come by to visit, or if she’d wait until Amanda was away from Patton and Virgil. Amanda hoped Allison wasn’t mad with her decision.

“In that case, perhaps it would be best for us to leave now?” Logan’s statement was more of a question than usual, looking to his companions for reassurance.

“I guess.” Roman shrugged. Honestly, he wanted to stick around and hang out with both borrowers, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen. It was still a shock that even Allison wanted to come back with them, but that was likely due to the fact she knew them more than Patton and Virgil.

Allison nodded. “See you later Amanda.” She said with a smile.

“See you!” Patton exclaimed, using his free hand to wave bye to her.

Virgil was still glaring at Logan, had been for some time. He would have to talk to him-and Roman, despite what Allison said-later.

Logan placed Allison back into his pocket, heading out the door.

Roman followed, sending one last curious look Amanda’s way before shutting the door behind them.

“Well, that was...unexpected,” Amanda announced after they left. It certainly wasn’t how she had pictured today going.

“You can say that again,” Patton said. Out of everything, he hadn’t expected Logan and Roman to find a borrower themselves.

Virgil turned away from the door. “I hope Allison is doing okay.” She seemed fine for the most part but still…

Amanda just nodded, her eyes still locked on the door. She trusted Allison to speak up if she was in trouble, but...well, they were dealing with humans.

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal sides #au #borrowers #human!virgil #human!patton #human!roman #human!logan #borrower!allison #borrower!amanda #platonic #lamp #meta perspective #part 10

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perspective-series · 5 years ago

Text

Meta Perspective (5)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, not listening/being ignored, and being trapped

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

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Amanda tried not to squirm too much, jostled by Virgil’s movements. She hated to admit the pocket was actually fairly comfortable. It would have made a nice nap spot, if not for the chaos all around her keeping the borrower tense. Every unknown voice set Amanda on edge, knowing that she had no control over making sure she stayed hidden. It was turning out to be quite a stressful day, but something told her it was far from over.

Virgil had to admit, having a tiny person in his pocket was...nerve-racking to say the least. He found himself highly alert and every passing person, keeping to himself even more than usual. Which was saying something. He let out a small sigh and told himself to relax. Him being tense probably wasn’t helping Amanda to get comfortable.

“Hey, Virgil!” Patton called out. Virgil looked up to see Patton bounding toward him. He looked in a few directions, making sure no one was close and then smiled. “Did you set up something for Amanda before you left?” He asked, wanting to make sure Amanda was getting the proper rest.

Virgil bit his lip and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah...about that…” He trailed off and Patton gave him a head tilt. Virgil sighed. “Amanda is...here. In my pocket.” He patted on the shirt pocket for good measure and Patton’s eyes widened.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed, disappointment in his eyes. Virgil winced. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But she’s stubborn, okay? She would have tried to go back home if I left her alone.” He tried to explain. Patton kept his disappointed gaze on Virgil a bit longer before sighing himself.

“Well, there really isn’t anything we can do about it now…” Patton glanced at Virgil’s pocket. “Sorry, Amanda.”

“...it’s fine.” Amanda was careful to keep her voice down, knowing that while the fabric muffled her voice other humans might still overhear. Two humans were bad enough. “Just...don’t draw attention to me.”

“Right, of course.” Patton smiled and then shifted his eyes away from the pocket. “I’d say be careful but I know you.” Patton chuckled.

Virgil did as well. “Yeah.” Virgil looked a little past Patton when a pair of familiar faces started walking towards them. His eyes widened. “Oh crap, it’s Logan and Roman.”

“Huh?” Patton looked behind him and grinned when he saw them, sending them a rather large wave. He turned back around. “Oh! Should we tell them about Amanda?” Patton asked and Virgil winced.

“Yeah, I don’t think she would appreciate that.” And he also knew how Roman and Logan were.

Roman kept his gait smooth, his acting background helping him stay casual despite the fact he felt the urge to look at Logan’s bag every few seconds.

“Just act natural,” Roman spoke out of the corner of his mouth, giving Patton and Virgil a wave of greeting.

“I am perfectly natural.” Logan insisted, tightening the grip he had around his bag strap. Logan’s posture was rather stiff, but this was indeed ‘natural’ for him.

Allison tried to stay as still as possible in the bag, afraid any sort of movement would cause every other human in the room to see her. However, she could help but shift the tiniest amount to stop her leg from falling asleep. She didn’t need that right now.

She let out a small sigh. What she wouldn’t give to be home right now. But now she was here, captured by these humans. Not to mention, she had never found Amanda either. Allison at least hoped that she was doing better than her own current situation.

Patton glanced at the pocket and then at Virgil. “Right.” So, they wouldn’t be telling the others. Oh, but he did hate keeping things from them. This was going to be hard. He turned to Roman and Logan with a grin. “Hey, guys!”

Virgil nodded in greeting, trying to act casual. “Sup.”

“Salutations.” Logan greeted, keeping his bag more to the side than usual. He had kept Allison contained and securely hidden for an entire period already, he could certainly manage one last conversation.

“Was your morning...uneventful?” Roman asked, making conversation.

“Oh yeah! Super uneventful. Right, Virgil?” Patton asked, turning to his roommate. Virgil just nodded. “What about you guys?” Patton asked, turning back to them.

“Well…” Logan paused, wondering what detail he could use to divert attention. “Roman did eat a portion of my Crofter’s.”

“Really?” Virgil smirked. “Wow, I’m surprised he’s even still alive.” Patton chuckled at that.

“I apologized!” Roman insisted, looking offended.

“You did not.” Logan raised an eyebrow, wondering where this falsehood came from.

“Did I not?” Roman put a hand to his chin. “I meant to. I guess I just got distracted.”

“Oh? By what?” Patton asked.

“Oh, just a...small setback.” Roman looked a bit pleased with himself.

“Roman.” Logan gave him a warning glare, his tone stern.

Allison tensed at that. Oh, please don’t tell your friends about me.

“Huh, well, in any case, where are you guys headed now?” Patton asked.

“Home.” Logan looked to Roman, sticking his hand out. “Speaking of, your keys.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Roman rolled his eyes, handing the keys over. Usually, Logan would wait around doing homework until they drove home together, but with the Allison situation, it’d be best to get her home as soon as possible. “Just don’t forget to pick me up later.”

“I shall not,” Logan assured him, pocketing the keys.

“I’ve got to work on my metalsmithing project,” Roman answered Patton’s question.

Amanda perked up a bit, listening to the human’s conversation. Metalsmithing? Humans did that too? The idea of giant tools working with huge chunks of heated metal was...terrifying. And yet at the same time, Amanda almost wanted to witness it for herself.

“I’ve got my graphics class that I need to be getting to, actually.” Virgil didn’t want to be late and have everyone staring at him as he walked in. “See ya guys later.” And with that, Virgil left, Amanda in tow.

Patton waved. “Bye Virge!” He grinned, knowing Virgil would be careful with Amanda and turned back to the others. “I’ve gotta get going too. I’ve got English! See ya!” And with that, Patton was gone too.

Allison relaxed just a bit more when she heard the two other humans leave. At least she didn’t have to deal with them too.

“Be careful,” Roman warned one last time, giving Logan a wave as he headed towards the studio.

Logan nodded in acknowledgment, heading towards the parking lot. The day had certainly gone smoother than he could have hoped. Logan thought about checking on Allison in the car but figured it would be best to release her in the confines of the apartment. After all, Allison seemed to immensely dislike being manhandled, so Logan planned to do so as little as possible.

Only in the safety of his living room did Logan finally open the bag up, sitting on the couch. “Are you alright?” He asked, peering down at Allison. It was still strange to think of her as an actual being and not a figment of his tired state of mind this morning.

Allison tensed as the bag opened, looking up at Logan with a still very clear fear. “...Yeah.” As well as she could be in her current situation, at least.

“Excellent.” Logan nodded, looking pleased. “Then I shall fix us some sustenance. Any requests?”

“Uhh...I don’t know.” What even was sustenance?

“Very well.” Logan lifted the bag, careful as he brought it over to the kitchen. He set it down, reaching in to grab Allison out.

Allison let out a squeak of fear as a hand started to reach for her. Of course, she expected it but that didn’t make her any more prepared. She braced herself, knowing she couldn’t stop it.

Logan grabbed her form gently, lifting her up and out onto the counter. There he released her and then began pulling out the ingredients to make himself a sandwich.

Allison backed up a step as soon as she was set back down, glad to be back on something solid. She watched Logan warily, as he seemed to be making a sandwich. Oh, so he must have meant food. This guy sure did have a weird way of speaking.

Logan pulled out the peanut butter and crofters, putting some on each bread slice and pressing them together. He cut off a corner, smushing the bread down so as not to be too wide for Allison to consume.

“Here you are.” Logan presented the sandwich to her, holding it between his fingers.

Allison flinched, glancing between Logan and the food before taking it hesitantly. “...Thanks.” She took a bite, humming in pleasure. She recognized the Crofters jam along with something else she hadn’t had before but she really liked it.

Logan was pleased to see that his assumption she’d like more crofters was correct. He took a bite of his own sandwich, smiling at the familiar taste.

Allison finished her sandwich with a small smile. But it soon left her features when her attention was soon turned back to the human. She shifted her feet, afraid to ask but needing to all the same. She took a deep breath. “So...what now?”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked, finishing off his own meal. He grabbed his own dish, turning to the sink. With a sigh, Logan realized Roman hadn’t done the dishes prior, and Logan grabbed the sponge to get to work.

“Are you...going to let me go?” There, the question was out once again. Now hopefully there would be a different answer.

“Let you go where?” Logan called over his shoulder, acting oblivious.

“...Home. Are you going to let me go home?” She repeated, she had a feeling, though, that the human knew what she had meant the first time.

“Well, certainly not right now,” Logan explained. “If I were to release you without consulting Roman I would not hear the end of it, especially given the fact he found you originally.”

Allison felt herself deflate. Of course. She had gotten her hopes up, even though she shouldn’t have. Geez, why did humans have to be like this?

...She could always try to escape. She still had her hook after all. Thankfully, they hadn’t taken it away. But she would have to wait for the perfect moment.

“However, you are welcome to do what you like,” Logan assured her. “I have some school work I should do, but so long as you stay relatively close you certainly don’t need to stay entertained by astral physics.”

Allison blinked. Schoolwork...that could be what she needed. If Logan became too focused on school, she just might be able to make her escape. But she couldn’t give any hints to her plan, so she looked down but nodded. “...Okay.”

“Excellent.” Logan dried off his hands, looking around the kitchen. “How do you usually pass the time? Do you require anything from me in regards to entertainment?”

“Uh...I mean, usually, I pass my time messing with little things I find around...or go for a walk…” Or hang out with Amanda but she wasn’t about to say that. “I should be fine though.”

“Alright.” Logan nodded at this, pulling his homework out of his bag. He set himself up at the dining table so that Allison was still in his line of sight if he looked up. “Just alert me if you become bored or require anything.”

“Okay.” She answered, at least glad that she wouldn’t be picked up again to move somewhere else. She was itching to make a run for it already but she knew she had to wait a bit longer. For Logan to get really into his studying. In the meantime, she decided to wander around the table. She figured it would be better to be seen as already moving, that way a sudden movement wouldn’t catch Logan’s eye.

Logan sent her one last glance before pouring over his textbooks thoroughly, the page rustling being the only sound in the kitchen for several minutes.

Allison continued to walk around and after about 20 minutes passed, she glanced in Logan’s direction. He seemed well into his studying and she smiled. Perfect. Now was her chance. She quickly but carefully made her way over to the opposite end of the table and, after one last glance at Logan, unfurled her hook and embedded it into the wood table. She then wasted no time, in starting to climb down.

Her heart beat rapidly as she fully realized what she was doing, all with a human right there.

Logan paused, spotting movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, Logan frowned as he realized that Allison seemed to be descending down a string, likely the one that previously hung at her hip.

“What are you doing?” Logan inquired.

Allison tensed as she heard Logan’s voice. “...Nothing.” However, her actions contradicted her words as she went from climbing down to sliding down. She winced as the string burned her hands but she made it to the ground much faster. Not having the time to get her hook, she booked it towards the living room and her exit underneath the couch.

“It certainly doesn’t look like nothing.” Logan slid his chair back, taking large strides over to block the borrower’s path.

Allison’s eyes widened as Logan moved in front of her, blocking the path to the couch, biting her lip, she didn’t stop running but instead turned right and heading for the small hallway. She...didn’t have any exits coming up. But she just didn’t want to be caught again.

“Allison, this is futile.” Logan crouched down, this time sticking out his arm to easily block her path.

This time, Allison had no choice but to skid to a halt. Though she still managed to collide with Logan’s arm, she quickly took several steps back. She hugged herself. “Please just let me go…”

“We discussed this already.” Logan felt a twinge of guilt. “And where were you even trying to go?”

Allison didn’t say anything. She couldn’t give up her exits. They’d probably end up blocking them and then she’d be even more trapped.

“...alright,” Logan spoke, finally realizing he wouldn’t be receiving any explanations. He cupped his hands around Allison, lifting the borrower off the ground.

Allison let out a yelp as she was lifted into cupped hands. She started to shake. Was Logan going to do something to her because she tried to escape?

Logan walked back over to the counter, setting her down on the surface once more.

“What is this, anyways?” Logan asked, pulling out the hook to inspect it.

Oh, no. She couldn’t let Logan take her hook. “It’s mine.” She said. “P-Please give it back.”

“Are you going to use it again?” Logan noticed it appeared to be some form of climbing tool, useful to get around.

“...No.” She lied.

“Mhmm.” Logan was unconvinced. He began wrapping it up, shoving the wad into his pocket. “Just to be on the safe side, I’m keeping this.”

“Wait, no!” Allison watched with wide eyes as her hook disappeared into Logan’s pocket. “I really won’t use it again, just please give it back!”

“I’ll give it back to you in the evening,” Logan assured her. “But for now I think it would be most beneficial to ensure you stay put.”

“W-Well, there really is no point in keeping it because I could just escape without it anyway!” Allison found herself saying. As soon as the words left her mouth, however, her hand flung to her mouth. Oh...that was not the right thing to say.

“Oh, could you?” Logan looked both curious and concerned. “Then perhaps leaving you to your own devices was not the wisest course of action.”

Allison’s eyes widened. No, she couldn’t lose whatever bit of freedom she had left! “W-Wait, I-I didn’t mean it like that.” Allison tried.

“Then you’ll stay out of trouble?” Logan asked. He was certainly willing to give Allison the same freedoms so long as Allison didn’t use this time to escape. After all, he could not keep watching her. Logan had textbooks to read.

“Yes.” Allison lied. She knew the first chance she got, she would try to escape again. With or without her hook.

Logan quirked an eyebrow, not quite believing her but willing to give Allison another chance. “Very well.” He conceded, returning to the table but keeping an eye on the borrower.

Allison knew she would probably have to wait a bit longer this time around, knowing Logan was on her. So, she took a seat at the edge of the counter and kicked her feet. She decided to take this time to organize her bag a bit.

“...please be cautious.” Logan murmured, noticing the comparatively large drop beneath her.

Allison just nodded, despite knowing she was in no real danger. She had done this so many times, and higher up too. She was perfectly fine. And when the time came, she knew just how to climb down too.

Of course, after seeing nothing happen, Logan allowed himself to relax slightly and pour himself back into his studies. For the time being at least, Allison seemed content.

Allison thought now would be a good time but she still waited an extra 20 minutes to be safe. When Logan hadn’t looked up in a while, Allison slowly started to climb down, turning her body in order to do so. She held her breath as she climbed down, hoping Logan would remain distracted this time.

Of course, no such thing happened. The movement caught Logan’s eye, making his eyes widen slightly. What was she thinking?

Logan got up, making his way over towards the kitchen counter but trying to keep his footsteps light so as not to jostle the cabinets further. He would certainly blame himself if Allison fell now.

Allison froze as he shadow covered her and, slowly, she looked up and behind her. Logan was there and Allison felt herself begin to shake once more. Well...this could only end badly.

Logan was quick to put a hand underneath her, using the other to grab her tiny form and pluck it off the surface.

“No!” Allison cried out, struggling in the grip. Why, why did this have to happen to her. “Please, I’m-I’m sorry!”

“It seems you were not exaggerating when you mentioned your abilities,” Logan observed. Clearly, Allison was far too mobile for her own good. She lacked what seemed to be a healthy fear of dropping to the floor, something that Logan had assumed would be a natural barrier. Without this, how could he keep the borrower contained? Logan hummed, looking around the kitchen for a solution.

“Please, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Just-Just put me down.” She squirmed in the grip, scared of what Logan was going to do since he had caught her escaping a second time.

“Oh, I will, once I find a suitable vessel.” Logan began to dig through the cupboard, pleased when he found a solution. “Ah, here we are.” Logan retracted his arm, a large glass jar cupped in his grip. He set this down on the counter, reaching his other hand inside to deposit Allison at the bottom.

Allison blinked at the glass now surrounding her. Wait...had Logan just put her in a jar!? “H-Hey!” Allison got to her feet, putting her hands on the glass and looking up at the human. “Let me out!”

“I’ll let you out later in the evening when Roman is home and the two of us can keep a proper eye on you,” Logan assured her. “But in the meantime, I think this is a safe alternative to keep you contained.”

Allison felt a few tears prick her eyes and she wiped them away before looking up at Logan again. “Why...Why are you doing this?” She couldn’t help but ask, trying to ignore the feeling of absolute helplessness she was feeling.

Logan shifted, surprised by her strong reaction. “It seemed reasonable enough, this way I can focus on studying without worrying about the consequences of your actions.”

“No! Why are you...keeping me here. When I don’t…” Allison trailed off, bowing her head as he sniffed and tried to hide the forming tears. She couldn’t show weakness.

“...we can discuss this later.” Logan dodged the question, heading back towards the table and his books. The topic itself gave him an unpleasant feeling.

Allison banged against the glass, somehow, the barrier made her feel a bit braver. “No! I don’t want to be here! Let me out and let me go already!” Allison yelled.

Logan did his best to tune her out, opening up his textbook with a sigh.

“Logan!” She cried out and then she bowed her head when all he did was ignore her. Her tears fell and she back up, hitting the glass and dropping down to a seated position. She was starting to see, that these humans were never going to let her go.

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #borrowers #human!roman #human!logan #human!patton #human!virgil #borrower!amanda #borrower!allison #platonic #meta perspective #part 5

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sablelab · 5 years ago

Text

Covert Operations - Chapter 71

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS: Claire finally meets Jonathon Randall at his birthday party at The Triangle nightclub. He puts a proposition to her and invites her to dinner as well as putting a move on her.

Previous chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

My thanks again for reading, liking, reblogging and commenting on this story. I really do appreciate you doing so.

CHAPTER 71

Claire’s week at the OCTB had been taken up with investigations about the car bombing in Victoria Park and their shadowing of Samuel Li. With her two colleagues, John So and Ian Murray, she had been sent to find out as much as they could about the explosion. However, they’d reported that there were no obvious links to the Black Panthers that they could substantiate. Although surveillance footage of Samuel Li was plentiful, Claire knew that they would find nothing that connected him to the bombing in the park as well. Nevertheless, she was sure that Inspector Ng would no doubt find a fine thread that would implicate him and the Black Panthers triad in this atrocity thus making a case for his arrest. She had also managed to diffuse the issue of the mystery man that was seen walking away as there was too little to go on. The chance of the OCTB locating Jamie was less than one percent even if they had a recon photograph, which they didn’t, so the possibility of finding him without knowing anything of his identity was negligible. Hence inquires in this direction had turned up nothing. In the meantime, James Fraser had carried out his own surveillance on Inspector Ng. He’d spent time going over the disk Fiona Graham had given him, but what he had been able to make out was information that Section already had on him. Unfortunately, some of the Intel on the disk had indeed been encrypted, and Jamie was unable to decipher its contents. Hence Fergus had needed to go through the disk to access the information. As a result, Section had been able to add further Intel to Inspector Ng’s dossier. There was, however, some very explosive data on it too which showed proof that Jiang Ng was a criminal and member of the Rising Dragons. His connections to the triad actually went back over many years; he’d been recruited in his youth then had been sent to the police academy as a young man. He’d worked his way up the police ranks and now, because of his position at the OCTB, served as the triad's best mole. The more they learnt about Inspector Ng’s insidious treachery, the duplicity of his position at the OCTB and association with the Rising Dragons, the more became the need to bring him into Section One and if he was at the club tonight, that indeed would happen. Jamie had also mused over whether to bring Karen Yee and her boyfriend in, or to wait until after the party. Claire, however, needed them for her introduction to the target Jonathon Randall, and he knew she would be safe until then as Karen and Andy were away. He’d checked to see if her conference was legitimate and had an operative tailing her in Beijing. He had reported back her movements and they were as she had said. Karen had also rung Claire to arrange the time that she would be at her apartment to collect her for Jonathon Randall’s birthday party, and as planned she’d picked her up at 9 p.m. for their night at the club.

Saturday evening at The Triangle …

Jamie and the team were in position and had the venue under surveillance. As a precaution, he’d organized extra back up for the mission tonight for if all major players were in play, as he hoped they would be, the nightclub was the most logical place to make a move on each and every one of them. This time Section One would be waiting for Jonathon Randall, Inspector Ng and any other members of the Rising Dragons in attendance.

Section’s mission van was parked outside the club while inside James Fraser was watching the van’s monitors. Scrutinizing all the invited guests who had turned up for Randall’s birthday party, he waited for Claire’s arrival with her neighbour Karen Yee. He’d relayed the visual back to Section for Fergus to cross monitor any of the individuals in case one was a match to their data base on the Rising Dragons. Intel of those in attendance would also be stored for further reference should Section need it in the future. Studying the visuals Jamie suddenly zoomed in on the vision of loveliness that came onto his screen. His Sassenach was dressed in a beautiful, sexy, black cocktail gown. He magnified her image concentrating on her face or more specifically her eyes ... eyes that seemed to know he was looking right at her. She blinked once, then Claire Beauchamp’s blue eyes looked directly at him revealing the window to her soul. She knew that Jamie was gazing at her and her eyes seemed to soften with an intimacy that he would instantly recognise. Her eyes were sparkling with love and desire for the recipient of her feelings - James Fraser. Knowing that her man would be monitoring her and keeping her safe while she was meeting this new target, filled Claire with confidence that they would achieve their goals this evening.

Jamie swallowed a lump in his throat at the mesmerising, tell-tale glance of his beloved Claire, but he managed to keep his mind on what he had to do. Many of the proposed targets were gathered at this birthday party and apprehending them would bring them closer to finding the elusive leader of the triad. Reluctantly, he zoomed out to concentrate on her neighbour Karen Yee and studied her body language around Claire.

It was difficult to know whether she was merely exhibiting enthusiasm for the evening ahead or acting suspiciously. Either way, Jamie knew he would be keeping Karen Yee under close surveillance while she was around his Sassenach in the club tonight and he would act should anything eventuate that put her in jeopardy. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ As they made their way closer to the entrance of the nightclub the two women were stopped by a new security guard who was checking ID for the guests who had been invited. “This is a private party tonight,” he stated as he gave the two women an officious look. “I’m one of the girls,” Claire replied cheekily suddenly feeling quite sassy after her eye sex connection with Jamie. “Why are you late then?” Claire pouted. “I had to take a philosophy exam.” “And you?” he said turning to Karen. “I’m with her,” Karen replied, “and my boyfriend is one of the band members.” “Okay ... you’re in ... but I don’t know about your friend here.” Turning, the guard looked back at Claire who smiled coyly at him as he looked her up and down. Standing her ground, she cocked her head to the side and with a flirty look on her face, responded with a dare. “You can frisk me, if you want.” His grin was quite leering as his eyes once again ran over her from head to toe. Capturing her gaze, the security guard was tempted by her challenge and took up the gauntlet.

“Works for me.”

Claire raised her hands overhead, giving him access to her body. Placing his hands over her breasts, the man slowly slid them down her body, then back up. He smiled, enjoying himself, while Claire stood perfectly still unaffected by his frisking. However, when he lightly ran his hands over her thighs, he felt a little bulge.

“Hmmm? What’s this then?” He asked looking at her intently.

“Why, I’m packing some heat of course.” Claire announced saucily giving the security guard a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, you’re definitely packing lots of heat babe.”

“Wanna check and see?” She replied lifting her dress just enough for him to see the garter belt she was wearing.

The head guard came over to see what was taking so long with the two women. “She’s a saucy little minx Karen. Where did you find this one?”

“She’s my neighbour Jimmy. I can vouch for her.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I remember. Let her in Freddie,” he said turning to the waiting guard who had carried out the body frisk on Claire.

The first security guard took a small step backwards so that she had to brush past him. “Have a good time girls,” was his parting remark as they continued to walk towards the entry of the nightclub.

“Ooooh Claire ... You are so bad!” Karen stated when out of ear shot of the security guard.

“Yes, I am ...” she replied with mirth in her voice.

“We had tickets you know ... we could have showed them.” “Yeah... but that was more fun.” Their laughter echoed along the passageway as they entered the club for Jonathon Randall’s birthday celebrations. The two women stood at the entrance observing the crowd that had assembled in the nightclub then turning towards Karen, Claire smiled broadly. “Should be a good night judging by the festivities already going on.” “Yeah ... It’s much livelier than the last time we were here. Come on Claire, let’s find a table before they’ve all gone,” Karen replied leading the way across the dance floor in search of a vacant booth. However, before making her way through the crowd Claire casually raised her hand and touched the brooch on her dress between her breasts, which activated the hidden camera in it. She turned to the left and right to view the people gathered in the club providing Jamie in the mission van with a view of the interior of the club. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “Okay, she’s in.” Jamie alerted Section as the images of those gathered were transmitted to Fergus’ computer. “You getting this Claudel?” he asked. “Loud and clear Fraser.” “Claire I'll coordinate from here. Work yer way through the club and standby,” Jamie stated from the van outside the nightclub. He’d purposefully located himself in the mission van knowing that Karen Yee may be suspicious of his appearance. Should she see him, she would recognise him and the plans they had for capturing the targets would cause the mission to be aborted. “Understood,” she replied as she watched Karen greet a friend warmly ahead of her. “Claire, get to yer point. Once ye’re there keep vigilant for the target. I’ll provide backup if necessary.” “Okay. Thanks Jamie.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Tonight, The Triangle was abuzz with the crème de la crème of Hong Kong society. Most of the women were young and gorgeous ... the men debonair and rich. Claire and Karen circled the party and tried to make their way across the floor towards a vacant table. Noticing Rupert Mackenzie, Claire made eye contact with him and he acknowledged her look with a corresponding nod as he walked past her. Claire watched as a woman danced with two guys in time to the music. As they drew level with the threesome, one of her partners grabbed her and began to imitate the erotic Salsa dance with her brushing his body against hers as they moved to the Latin rhythm that was playing. The other swirled Karen around the floor brushing their bodies together as well. Claire turned her head and Jamie had the visual of her looking straight at him as she danced. She found herself unable to look away knowing that he was watching her dancing the vertical expression of horizontal desire and erotic energy. Sensuality shimmered in her blue gaze like a warm flame, while back in the van; an appreciative look appeared on Jamie’s face as he watched her captivate not only him but the unsuspecting man.

She was good ... very good. His Claire was seducing him with her body movements and her eyes which seemed to peer deep into his soul.

The man twirled Claire around, periodically pulling their two bodies close together. The rhythm coursed in Claire’s blood letting her passions run free. Her hypnotic eyes conveyed her inner thoughts to the man who by now was fixedly watching his Sassenach dance. Passionate submission was certainly on her mind … I wish this was you ... this could be you Fraser! This will be you tonight.

Jamie had indeed read his Claire’s thoughts.

"Do ye see him yet …?" His voice whispered in her ear and the softly spoken words rolled off his tongue as if it was seductive foreplay between the two of them.

Slowly severing her connection to Jamie’s invisible gaze, Claire roved her eyes about the room but didn’t see anyone who would fit the bill of their target. “No ... not yet,” she answered in a provocative purr.

“Keep alert then … Beauchamp,” he huskily ordered dragging out her surname as if he was placing a lingering kiss to her lips.

Claire smiled knowingly at Jamie’s reply as she broke away from the man who danced his way back to where his partner was oblivious that she was dancing alone. Gathering her composure, she smiled and continued across the floor followed by Karen who had managed to lose her dance partner as well. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As they continued to cross the room a man standing near a wall watched Claire’s progress. Little did she know, but more than one pair of eyes were watching her. Surreptitiously she surveyed the surrounds keeping an eye on a man guarding the entrance to a restricted area of the club where a small group of people were quietly conversing. Looking up she saw a good-looking man sitting with some minders and a woman on either side of him on a couch drinking cocktails near to where they were heading. No sooner had she made eye contact than the man looked at her captivated by what he saw.

Claire flirtatiously smiled his way then looked away. “Fergus, twenty degrees to the left,” she whispered.

“Yeah ... okay I see him.” “Is he the target?” Jamie interjected. “I’m searching for a match,” Fergus replied to him before bantering with Claire. “Hey Beauchamp ...” “Yeah?” “Be careful crossing the rest of the room! Your dancing has set some temperatures rising.” If anyone’s temperature was rising, she hoped that is was just one … James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser’s … for that was the only person she was interested in causing a feverish rise in temperature.

“Up yours, Claudel!” She replied in feigned slighted banter.

“Anytime, babe, my number’s in the book,” was his equal playful retort. “You’ll keep Fergus!” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The party was certainly in full swing. Making her way towards the table, Claire saw various shenanigans taking place as the uninhibited crowd got down and dirty on the dance floor as the Latin music continued to vibrate through her body as well as those dancing. She couldn’t help but think again of what that would be like to do with Jamie and a slight blush coloured her cheeks at the mind visual. Getting her mind back on the job at hand was her first priority though, and Claire continued to cross the floor. She made eye contact and traded nods with another undercover Team Operative who was standing to one side of the dance floor. “Do ye have a match yet Fergus?” Jamie asked impatient for clarification of the target. “Yep ... Bingo ... It’s Jonathon Randall alright.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Whoa! You’d need a stepladder for that one Robert!” Jonathon Randall said to his bodyguard as he keenly watched the newest arrival to his party with Karen Yee.

The woman was intriguing. She was gorgeous with legs that went on forever and brunette locks that caressed her shoulders. Smitten with her captivating appearance, Jonathon just knew that he wanted to meet her.

Realising that she was being ignored, one of the blondes at the man’s side kept fawning over him, trying to reclaim his attention, but Jonathon Randall was too busy watching Claire Beauchamp sashay across the crowded dance floor. He fobbed off her attention as well as that of her friend as he was mesmerised by the new woman who had taken over all of his focus. Randall’s eyes followed her every move as she made her way through the crowd. With a petulant look, her eyes too noticed the statuesque brunette in the sexy cocktail dress capture the attention of the host. She was not impressed knowing that any chance she may have had with the owner of The Triangle nightclub had just been dashed by the appearance of the pretty, new, brown-haired woman at his party. Indicating that he’d like to meet the mystery woman, Jonathon Randall motioned for his bodyguard to bend down. As he did so he whispered in his ear. “Go and intercept wherever she is headed and invite her over for a drink.” Nodding, Robert Ling got up and purposefully made his way over to Claire. “My boss wants to meet you,” he announced sidling up to her and grabbing her arm trying to make her go with him. “I don’t think so!” she replied yanking it away. Insisting that she accompany him he persisted, “I really think that you should come with me.” “I don’t think you heard what I said ... I said no!” Intrigued, Jonathon Randall watched the play of events from a distance. He could not take his eyes off Claire and smiled at her tenacity. The second girl companion next to him realising that he was paying no attention to her as well, looked up to see what held his interest. “My boss won’t take “No” as an answer, I’m afraid,” Robert persevered taking her arm once again. “Come with me please.” Claire kicked the man in the shin insulted at his impertinent manner, and the gofer backed away a little turning his head towards where his boss was observing the interplay taking place with great amusement. “Claire ... the target is in sight,” Jamie announced. “Where is he?” Watching what had happened, Jonathon laughed as the blonde woman sitting next to him resumed kissing him on the side of the face trying to gain back his attention but to no avail. He was no longer interested in her whatsoever, and pushed her away like a pesky fly. He wanted the alluring, brunette woman with Karen Yee. “Hmm ... I like her!” He muttered with an arrogant tone to his voice. Seizing his moment, Jonathon Randall stood up. Leaving his two, blonde women companions furious, he brushed off their displeasure and ignoring their entreaty made his way towards where Claire and Karen stood. “He’s making his way over to ye.” “Got it Jamie ...” she replied noticing the good looking man leave his women companions and move in her direction. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Robert Ling continued to try and persuade Claire to accompany him for drinks with his boss but she just ignored him and moved away from him. As he was pestering her once more, the man she had noticed earlier approached and grabbed him by a lapel, yanking him away from her. “That was not a good call, Bob. I wanted to meet this woman ... I didn’t want you to harass her.” As Claire watched the dynamics between the two men, she replied looking him in the eye, “It’s all right. I can handle myself.” “Yes ... I noticed.” “Um, my mistake, Mr. Randall,” his bodyguard apologised contritely backing away. Dismissing the man as insignificant he turned again to Claire and said, “I apologize for my overzealous assistant.” “It’s okay.” Without taking his eyes from the beautiful, brunette woman he spoke to her companion who had returned to her side, “Introduce us Karen.” “Claire ... This is Jonathon Randall ... Jonathon ... Claire.” “Mr Randall? ... Hi ... I’m Claire Beauchamp ... It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.” He took her hand and placed a kiss to her knuckles. “I assure you the pleasure is all mine ... but please call me Jonathon, that is until we are better acquainted, then you may call me Jack.” Nodding she turned her megawatt smile towards him, “Happy Birthday ... Jonathon.” “Thank you ... Claire.” “Are you enjoying your party?” “So much more now that I’ve met you. I’m very glad you were able to attend.” “Me too ... Thanks for the invitation,” Claire replied laying on her charm. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ As if they were the only two people there, Jonathon Randall blocked out all those surrounding him including Karen Yee. He was not only captivated by this woman but he was smitten with her beauty and wanted to know more.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Of course.” The band began playing an evocative tune and the dance floor soon became crowded with couples twirling to another Latin beat. Taking her hand Jonathon Randall willingly led Claire back onto the dance floor. They began to Rumba together in time to the hypnotic beat and he dipped and spun her around in time to the music. Pulling her closer he looked directly into her eyes, “I haven’t seen you here before? First time?” “Second,” Claire replied putting her arms around his neck swaying to the rhythm of the music and distracting him long enough for her to plant a tracker beneath his jacket lapel. As soon as she did, it started beeping in the mission van. “Good. That’s the tracker. We’ll be able to monitor his movements in the club,” Fergus stated. Claire’s brooch camera was picking up their actions. Jonathon Randall took one of her hands and slowly guided it down his body to the waistband of his pants. “You do look familiar though. Are you sure I haven’t met you before?” he inquired suggestively dipping Claire back then pulling her close to his chest. What Jamie witnessed didn’t sit well with him particularly as he observed the target’s suggestive fondling of her body. He watched his movements closely waiting for any sign that he would need to go in if Claire got out of her depth. Maintaining eye contact she provocatively replied, “I’d certainly remember you if we’d met before Mr Randall.” “Yeah ... so would I ... nonetheless ...” He let his words trail off as Claire graced him with yet another one of her megawatt smiles and he was under her spell once more. Gyrating to the beat they continued their conversation. “So how do you know Karen?” Claire asked pumping him for information since Jamie had reservations about her neighbour. Perhaps she may learn something useful about her. “She comes here regularly and is the girlfriend of the guitarist in the band,” he replied never taking his eyes from this alluring and interesting woman. “I met him the other night ... but you weren’t here though.” Pulling her in close once more, Jonathon Randall stated, “Well this must be my lucky day ... I don’t normally come to the club ... but I’m glad I did tonight for my birthday celebrations.” “Yeah ... me too.” “So Claire what do you do?” “I’m between jobs at the moment.” “Hmm, perhaps I could offer you a job here at The Triangle. I’m sure we could find something you could do.” “Sounds good. I’ll think about it.” “Don’t think too long.” “Then ... I’ll sleep on it,” she answered back playing him for all he was worth. “I always feel that we miss some of life’s more exciting moments when we sleep,” he replied suggestively dipping her body in time to the music. “Well, I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open,” Claire replied as she peered into his eyes when he lifted her back up against his chest. Jonathon Randall laughed. “Witty and beautiful ... a deadly combination Miss Beauchamp.” “Oh, you don’t know how deadly I can be Mr Randall,” she replied with a beaming smile at the target. Twirling her to the Rumba rhythm he brought Claire flush to his chest once more capturing her look with a penetrating one of he is own. “Hmm ... I just might find out. I like a challenge. Have dinner with me tomorrow night.” “No, I don’t think so. I hardly know you.” “That can be arranged. You know I won’t take no for an answer. I can be very persuasive.” “Well ... if you put it that way ... okay then.” “Good. I’ll send my driver for you.” “That won’t be necessary. I can find my own transport.” “On the contrary Claire … I insist.” “Hmm ... how could a girl refuse ... Where are we going then?” “Why somewhere spectacular of course ... I want to surprise you ... You won’t be disappointed.” “My ... my ... you are full of surprises Mr Randall.” “Jonathon ...” he reiterated as he dipped and spun her in time to the music once more. As he did so Claire noticed that some of his minders were closing in on them ... surrounding them. One of Jonathon Randall’s assistants walked up and whispered silently in his ear conveying that he was obviously needed. Casting his eyes in the direction of Karen and her friend, he said reluctantly ... “Oh, you’ll have to forgive me; there’s something I must personally take care of. Regrettably I must return you to your friend. However much I want to monopolise your time, ... I can wait Claire Beauchamp, I’m a very patient man.” “Just how I like them ... Patient men intrigue me.” “Good. I’ll expect your answer tomorrow night then.” “Of course.” As they came closer to Karen and her boyfriend, he took Claire’s hand and placed a chaste kiss to her knuckles before taking his leave to check proceedings in the nightclub. “Until tomorrow Claire ... Karen ... Andy.”

Jonathon Randall then briskly walked off muttering something in rapid Cantonese to his bodyguard.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

N.B. I will post the next chapter on TUESDAY or WEDNESDAY

and NOT on Friday next week as I am going away for a few days. My thanks again for reading, liking, reblogging and commenting on this story. I really do appreciate you doing so. I will post when I am back home again .

#jamie and claire #Jamieandclairefanfic #jamieandclaireau #jamieandclairecrossover #James Fraser #claire beauchamp #covert operations

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ask-de-writer · 6 years ago

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 77

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

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Kurin turned to face the pure white Great Sea Dragon by the rail. “Blind Mecat, you and I talked once about whether I could trust what Captain Barad told me. What did you tell me about trusting him?”

Blind Mecat’s mellow voice answered, “I said that you would have to make up your own mind, Little Fish. I also said that I trusted him.”

“Thank you, Cat. Now, Captain Barad, why did you get the Ord and whose idea was it?”

“Mister Morgu first approached me about getting revenge on the Longin about nine Wohans ago. The Ord was to be the agency of that revenge. The plot was to kill you as a covert means of striking at the Longin. The circle of the conspiracy was very small. Only myself, Mister Morgu and one other, chosen by Mister Morgu and unknown to me, actually knew the real reason for obtaining it.

“Everybody else believed that it was for the fishing experiments that it actually was used for.”

“A moment, please Captain. Captain Sarfin, these parchments detail the exhaustive experiments carried out. Their failure, along with the reasons for it, and the disposal of the Ord. Your honor will notice the highlighted passage where one spine was reported as lost overboard. Note also the witness statements that Mister Morgu was involved in that loss.” Sarfin took the new batch of parchment and spent a few minutes reviewing it with Captain Sula.

Sula looked up grimly and said, “You are admitting to the plot against Kurin?”

“We are not done yet, Captain Sula,” said Kurin softly.

“If you wish to spare his life, I hope not,” Sula said dourly.

“Captain Barad, please continue,” Kurin asked.

“Even I did not know who Mister Morgu recruited or how he did it. I left those details to him. I did not know about the making of the deadly awl in that sewing kit. Chena’s death came as complete shock. It was a totally unnecessary test, and done without my consent. When Merk, Master Selked’s apprentice was found dead the next morning, I guessed who had made the deadly tool but still did not know what it was. I just let the normal course of events conceal the cause of his death.

“I stopped by the sickbay to look in on Tanlin’s condition and there I found Kurti being put on the invalid list for a resistant lung parasite infection. I took her in as my cabin- girl because it was the lightest duty on the ship and she,” Captain Barad paused and his shoulders shook as he appeared to fight for control, “hated being useless. She began by mending things in my cabin. Apparently, she approached Master Selked for a sewing kit and got the deadly kit in all innocence. She never needed the awl for the light work that she did.

“We kept her illness secret from the crew and hoped that one of the treatments would take. I’d have married her were it possible but she was Grandalor born and the Law is clear. Besides, we had no time. Her fatal attack had a sudden onset, as some parasite bored into a vein and her lungs began to fill with blood.

“The whale sang for her, leaping and calling for hours. Tanlin woke as Kurti failed. Tanlin had lost all memory of the people of the Arrakan fleet. She remembers all else. Blind Mecat says that those memories are gone forever. In every other respect she is whole. At first, because of the great similarity between them, I looked in on her progress and tried to help. It was swiftly apparent that she and Kurti were nothing alike, still, as I worked with her, I fell in love again. All of this time the kit sat on the shelf in my cabin, and neither I nor any other guessed it’s deadly nature.

“I had never thought to love anybody after Teralat died of fire cough twenty five Gatherings ago. Suddenly, I fell in love twice in quick succession. There was no impediment to marrying the Lady Tanlin, and I did so. We had an Arrakan style Wedding Feast at the Longin food booth. That is crucial to understanding what followed.

“This is the part that the Court will find hard to accept. I was bothered by the plot to harm Kurin. It preyed on me. I took my wife and Master Selked into my confidence about the scheme. Each had serious and different objections.

“Master Selked pointed out that my hate was for Captain Mord Halyn, not the Longin. Further, I was holding a grudge for the one time that I had bested him completely. No real basis for a grievance.

“Lady Tanlin’s objection was likewise fundamental. Captain Mord and Kurin were both invited guests at our Announcement Feast. Under Arrakan Law and Custom, all grudges between invited guests and the celebrators die at such a feast. If they do not, all the vows taken at the feast are forsworn and the couple must part and can never marry each other again.

“To keep my wife, I declared the plot done and issued Logged orders that if the deadly spine be found, it must be turned in to Doctor Corin for destruction. Any other use being mutiny. Remember, I did not know that it had been made into a sewing tool.

“During this same time, the sorry mess with Silor Elon was playing itself out. I felt that I owed him an assist because he was my eyes and ears aboard the Longin for the last five Gatherings. We went and picked him up. I was going to send him to the Arrakan fleet, where I do believe he would have done well. I should have just let him sail away.

“Mister Morgu somehow recruited him. Morgu did know about the kit but had lost track of it. He ran a number of audits and inventories of the tool stock, apparently trying to find it. He finally realized that the kit in my cabin was the only kit not checked and sent Silor to get it.

“When Silor, who had been ordered to stay out of sight, jumped ship with Mister Morgu, Tanlin realized that something was very wrong and came to me in the Captain’s Council. That was when I left my proxy with Captain Mord. I was trying to let you all know that my grudge with him was over.

“My whole crew searched the Gathering, trying to find either Mister Morgu, Silor or both. We failed. Later, we found that they had hidden inside one of the floats of the Gathering rafts. The next day, we caught up to them just moments after they had accomplished their goal.

“All that we could do was watch and pray to the Dragons that Kurin had not eaten the poisoned part of her lunch. When she collapsed into Captain Sula’s arms, we knew that we were doomed.

“Neither myself or my ship are popular. I was certain that the rush to rid the Naral fleet of us would have little to do with Great Law or fleet Law. Events have proved me correct. You have earned your name as Sarfin the Wise and even you failed to see the flaws in what you all did.

“I had arraigned a link up with the Fauline in her Spring Waters.”

Sarfin interrupted with, “They lay a charge of ramming to enforce piracy against you.”

“I know that, your Honor. It is not true. You know that they had a hull-secured loan with us. Due to a survivorship clause in favor of the Naral fleet, that loan is registered in the fleet Archive. They were over two Gatherings in arrears. The unpaid interest alone was somewhat over ten thousand Strong Skins. I also know that they failed to pay their full share tax this Gathering, pleading poverty.

“They gave us a payment of one thousand Strong Skins, two thousand five hundred glue blocks and a small, one and a half ton, Hag. They had it in their holds during the Gathering where I learned of it from an informant in the Fauline’s crew.

“They lied to you about inability to pay their share tax. They also gave us information about the blatantly illegal Edict of Outlawry and the search for us. In return, we gave them a full quitclaim on the loan.

“At that point, they seized both myself and the Lady Tanlin. They also attempted an attack on the Grandalor with a prize crew smuggled aboard ostensibly to help load the payment. Our crew took exception to the attempted capture, took the prize crew prisoner, and rammed the Fauline at an oblique angle with a bowsprit hook-out. This damaged the main mast’s running and standing rigging, disabling the ship. After our crew got us back safe aboard, we saw the Coriolis storm coming, so we rendered aid. We fixed the rigging and some minor hull damage.

“We did not charge for that. The price of not doing it would have been a ship and all the lives aboard. Some things are too costly to leave undone.”

Urson interrupted sarcastically, “So says the most notorious Captain of the whole fleet. I have known Captain Skua for many Gatherings and I find his account to be far more credible. It is, after all, only your word against his.”

“We do have three impartial witnesses,” said Kurin calmly.

“They are separate from either ship. They observed the encounter and are present to testify.”

“Impossible!” snapped Farrol. “No other vessel was in sight to provide these mythical witnesses!”

“Dark Iren, are you, Blind Mecat and Frath mythical?” Kurin called out lightly.

“The last time that I looked, no. None of us are mythical,” Dark Iren replied in a voice seemingly too soft for so large a creature.

“A question of fact, not opinion, then,” Kurin said with the surety of one who already knows the answer. “Did your Orcas report the encounter between the Fauline and the Grandalor to you?”

“Indeed they did, matters of conflict between ships can have major ecological consequences. Such confrontations are reported in full detail.”

“Did Captain Barad’s account seem substantially true to your reports?” Kurin inquired.

“All of his facts and the order of them are accurate. My reports were more detailed, of course.”

“Thank you, Dark Iren,” said Kurin and turned to Blind Mecat and Frath. “Blind Mecat, were you accompanying Frath as he was steering the recent Coriolis Storm?”

“Of course, Little Fish. You know that. I asked Frath to steer it nearly nine hundred miles out of its planned path in order to have speech with Barad and Tanlin. I had to be there for two reasons. One I just gave you, the other, and most important, was to ensure that the storm would still meet its ecological goals.”

All of the audience except for Sarfin, Barad and Tanlin were outraged. “Ecological goals! That storm hit and scattered our fleet!”

Sarfin threw a bucket of icy water on them by calmly asking, “And whose world is it? Do you really think that Sea manages itself? These Dragons make it possible for us to live at all. Trust them. They actually do know what they’re doing.”

Frath said, “Thank you, Captain Sarfin. I do try to miss fleets when I can. Humans are now widespread across the surface of Sea and it is not always possible. The storms are necessarily big. Curiously, Tanlin upbraided me for exactly the same thing even though the Naral fleet was trying to hunt her down and kill her.”

“Where were you, during the encounter between the Grandalor and Fauline?” Kurin requested.

“Blind Mecat and I were about twenty yards under the surface, directly beneath the ships,” Frath answered.

“Then you couldn’t have seen or heard what happened aboard either of those ships!” Farrol exclaimed in triumph.

Blind Mecat replied, “Incorrect. Sight is a limited sense at best. Our hearing and echolocation are both very precise. Two echo pings occupying less than one tenth of a second in total are sufficient to locate every object larger than one inch in length on both ships. The same two pings also allow us to count the number of persons, find their location, orientation, state of health and when they last ate. This includes those up in the rigging.” She regarded Farrol for an unnervingly sightless second and added, “We’re not just big, we are very good predators.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #World of Sea #Written by De Writer #Part 77

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