#it’s over for them that ship has sailed and caught on fire in the harbor

[tennessoui]

The ship takes off and Anakin and Quinlan sit there very politely and as soon as it clears Coruscant they try to kill each other

lmao they’re like two scrappy kids who are taken to the principal’s office because they got into a fight and then the moment you close the door and leave them alone they’re fighting again just as viciously as before.

[mizelophsun11]

Mizeloph's Tale Chapter 2

Pairing - Right now the pairing is General Kirigan x OC Sun Summoner, but that will eventually change to Kaz Brekker x OC Sun Summoner

Summary - Ketterdam is a city of thieves and these three are no strangers as they find themselves the first to a huge money job. Past are uncovered and people who where thought to be gone to the other might yet still be alive.

Word Count - 1574

-

Ketterdam

Kaz Brekker had changed, he wasn’t the same as he was before Jordies death, when he got back from the sea of death everything was different. He learned very quickly that being alone was not how someone thrived in Ketterdam, so he joined the Dregs. His past was something that Kaz kept close to his chest, no one knew that there was one person he thought of but always tried not to, a girl with white hair. However, sometimes that one person was overshadowed by his greed to one up Pekka Rollins, the man that had ruined his life. Which made stealing the Heartrender from underneath Pekkas grasp very satisfying. With Inej and Jesper they walked up to the gates that belonged to Dressen, the man who was offering the shining million kruge job.

A man approached the gate to see who the visitors were “Who are you?” he asked

“We’re here to see Dreesen” Kaz answered

He looked at the group confused “you’re not with Pekka’s crew”

“And you’re no longer in Pekka’s pocket if you don’t owe him” Kaz threw a bag of coins in between the bars of the gate, the man caught the bag and looked at it.

The gates then opened and they were allowed in “Hey! One of these has a hole in it!”

“Inside, now” Kaz said ushering the group into the building

They were brought into an office where Dressen was sitting. Kaz knew that they would have the upper hand, being first to have what Dressen wanted was key to securing the job. They needed this, it would be a big deal for the Crows to be able to get this kind of money. Dreesen looked them all over and already had an idea about the people who were standing in front of him.

“Criminals, it only takes one look” he eyes them a bit more before returning to the papers on his desk “I am not meeting with anyone until midnight so you are just wasting your time”

“We have the Heartrender that you requested” Kaz said

Dressen sighed and took a moment to think “Well.. alright, she stays and the rest of you can wait here” he said getting up from his chair and walking around his desk

The heartrender went to walk forward but Kaz stopped her with his cane “No, she stays and we have an exclusive on the job”

“Now Mr. Brekker. No businessman worth his salt hires his first applicants”

Kaz shrugged his shoulders “of course, I understand. It’s a big decision to make, just like the decision to report you to the guild for kidnapping and harboring a prisoner chain of title” he smirked a little, showing off his confidence, Kaz was the one with the upper hand in their little exchange

Dreesen glared at Kaz “you wouldn’t dare”

“No businessman worth his salt bargains for what he can take” Kaz answered

The Heartrender raised her hand “I have to be back in an hour”

“Alright, come on”

Dressen brought them down to where he was keeping the hostage, he walked up to him and turned to face the crew. Kaz went from looking around the room then back to where Dressen was standing.

“This is Alexi Stepanov” he pulled the bag off of his head to reveal his face “two weeks ago Alexei here crossed the Fold on foot, he was alone”

Inej was shocked “how?” she saw that the man was mouthing the word ‘water’ and she got him a glass for him to drink

“They’re keeping it quiet, but allegedly he was one of a few witnesses to an event..”

“What kind of event?” Kaz asked

“I know an expedition was swarmed by Volcra, it should have been a total loss, but something happened.. Right now the running theory over here is that it was a new device, one only for the worst case scenarios, but something is different about what was seen. It lit up the Fold like a forest fire. However, whatever destroyed the swarming Volcra was not a device with fire, because it would have killed everyone on that skiff. It had to have been some sort of new invention no one has seen before. This man is the answer, he hasn’t been able to speak, some sort of trauma lapse” Dreesen explained

The Heartrender approached Alexei and knelt down then started to slow down his heart beat to calm him down “you are safe now, speak and I will just listen” she smiled gently at him “tell me what happened in the Fold, what saved you?”

Alexei took in a deep breath, feeling his heart coming down to a steady pace “If I tell you, will you set me free?”

Dreesen nodded “you are in Ketterdam now, you can go anywhere in the world from here, just imagine”

“Her name is.. Anna Mizeloph, she is the Sun Summoner” Alexei said, not realizing the gates he had just opened

Kaz’s world froze, the same name of the girl with white hair he thought of every day was at the center of a myth, the Sun Summoner. So many questions were running through his mind about her and what had led her to that skiff where she had somehow demonstrated that she was the mythical Sun Summoner. He couldn’t piece together what could have happened to get her away from Ketterdam to the other side of the Fold. Kaz did understand that they had been separated as children and hoped that one day they would find each other. After he had fought tooth and nail to survive from the killer ocean in order to get back to her, she had just up and disappeared. He was always confused about how a girl with white hair would be difficult to find, but it was like she had never existed. As he was dealing with his trauma Kaz was working day and night to find Anna, but he could never find a lead that could get him something. For a while Kaz held onto those memories with Anna, they were the only way he could get through his trauma. However, those memories could not always protect Kaz forever, he had to eventually become a new person, someone who could thrive in Ketterdam, not just survive. Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel had been shaped by his hardships in Ketterdam and he clawed his way to where he was now. Today, one thing that had always held him back was Anna Mizeloph even if he didn’t know it, if they ever found each other he questioned what she would think of him and how he had changed. In the end Anna Mizeloph was the last piece of Kaz Rietveld and he tried to let go, but Kaz never could.

Jesper and Inej knew they would want to talk with Kaz later about how he had reacted to Anna Mizelophs name. They had never seen him react so quickly just to hide it, there was something more to this and they were going to find out.

Dreesen smiled and checked the manifest “perfect” Alexei smiled “you will set me free now?” he was ready to see the world and erase the horrors of the Fold from his mind

“Thank you, of course” Dreesen then pulled out a gun and shot Alexei in the head, his body dropping to the floor, the heartrender screamed, shocked by what had just happened.

“We are now the only people west of the Fold who know this information, my ship sails for West Ravka at dawn. If you can prove that you have a way through the Fold and back, I will put you on that ship with an advance. If you don’t, I might consider giving the job to Pekaa Rollins”

“Give me a day” Kaz bargained

“You have until sunrise, then your ship will have sailed, Mr Brekker. The prize is one million kruge. Now, bring me Anna Mizeloph” Dreesens men showed them out

When they were finally back to the three of them Inej decided she would step up and ask first about Kaz's reaction “when that man said Anna Mizeloph, the look on your face.. I have never seen you react like that, you knew her didn’t you?”

Kaz looked at Inej wondering if he should indulge her question “I knew one girl named Anna Mizeloph, but she has been gone for a very long time...”

Jesper gave Kaz a look “I mean, how rare is the last name Mizeloph?”

“She is the only one I have ever known to have that last name, so it might be her.. If it is, then we have an advantage over the competition, especially if we are going to be competing with Pekka Rollins” Kaz knew that this would be the chance for his past to finally be useful

“You would really use your past with Anna Mizeloph to put her into a false sense of security?” Inej asked slightly shocked, she knew that Kaz could be a bit harsh especially when it came to the possibility of a lot of money and beating Pekka Rollins, but she did not think he would go this far to emotionally manipulate Anna if he needed to

“For a million kruge, yes” Kaz said and walked off thinking about how we would find them a way through the Fold, there and back.

-

Author Note - I am extremely happy that others are enjoying this story and the comments left on chapter 1 warmed my heart! Thank you so much for everyone who left a comment, I had no idea that would happen even when I asked. Again, it is completely up to you if you would like to leave a comment, but know that I enjoy reading them. Also I really hope that this is a decent introduction to Kazans Brekker and him finding out. Also! If you would like to be added to the tag list please comment and let me know so I can add you, I will try my best to remember everyone!

Thank you so much for all of your guys support!

Tag List - @rika90 @itsemy01 @hotleaf-juice @teatimeforusreaders

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS20 Gift Part Two: “One Little Ray of Hope”

So, this is the follow-up and conclusion to the first part of my @cssecretsanta2020 gift for @let-it-raines I never thought it would be nearly Valentine’s Day before I got this gifted, but I went through a major writing slump and just finally pulled it together a bit. @let-it-raines has been incredibly patient and understanding, and I do hope she enjoys a bit more fluff and a happy ending to her little EF Christmas story.  May your 2021 have been brilliant so far, Raines!  Thanks so much for being such a wonderful shipmate! :)

Part One is here - in case it’s taken me so long you need to refresh your memory!

"One Little Ray of Hope” by: @snowbellewells

Part Two

Nearly two months passed before Emma saw Captain Jones again - two of the longest months she had ever spent waiting for anything it felt to her, and the sameness and routine of her days blended into one seemingly long, endless stretch. She didn’t like to admit it; to be just one more heartsick woman in a harbor town waiting for her restless sailor’s hoped-for return. And yet, she was just that, much as she had tried to fight it.

The only difference she could claim was the man for whom she waited. She had known the Captain’s interest long before accepting her own in return, had been well aware of those brightly intelligent, deeply seductive blue eyes gleaming in the dim light of the tavern as he watched her work, the awareness of his attention shivering along her skin deliciously. She wound’t deny adding an extra sway to her hips or a swing of her hair in response, from time to time, enjoying his silently rapt notice.

This Killian Jones was a patient man; quietly determined and certain of what he desired. He was a man willing to wait if the prize was worth it, and honorable enough to make a vow and stand by his word. Emma had seen it in the way he dealt with his men, his crew; in the way he treated her employer and other tradespeople when he was in port, and when she herself had allowed their better acquaintance and all-too-rare private conversation and brief flirtations, in the way he treated her. Oh, he was tempting, drawing her to his flame inexorably, but despite the reputation of a pirate, she had tried him and found in truth that he was always in fact a gentleman.

While the February snows might still be falling outside, Emma didn’t feel a single doubt. Though she was anxious, she knew he would return. They’d had an interminable late chill this winter; icy conditions still kept many huddled indoors all through the Feast of St. Valentine the past week, when many went out with their significant others for a special evening. This year there had been few couples canoodling in corners of the tavern - most had simply stayed home by their fires (or in their beds) and the lonely who looked on hoping to find their mate at last had been forced to wait another year.

Few ships indeed had managed to make their way in and out to dock in Misthaven’s harbor due to the inclement conditions. Emma wanted to be glad the Jolly was not among them, as she had been watching carefully, worried to note that the Queen’s black guard seemed to be doing the same. Much as she could crawl out of her own skin with the desire to see Killian Jones standing before her, her hair stood on end with the image that had greeted her all too often of the faceless armored men patrolling the docks - as if somehow they knew. She couldn’t stomach the thought of Killian and his crew - meant to sail atop the waves wild and free from one place to another as the wind might carry them - shackled and chained, jailed or even killed. She would have him stay away for months more if it meant he evaded the clutches of the Evil Queen.

However, tonight, for the first time in ages, it looked as though they might have a full house at Granny’s. The wind still howled outside, bitterly cold against the bared skin of cheeks and noses and threatening to bowl over weary travelers plodding against it, but it seemed after so much time cooped up in their own homes, many of the townsfolk were braving the elements  in order to drink and make merry and see some other scenery beyond their own hearths and four walls. If nothing else, possibly the sound and good humor all around her in close quarters would keep her busy serving customers and distracted from worrying about Captain Jones, his ship, and his loyal crew - where they might be, what might have held them up for so long, and what sort of threat might await them here if they did return.

The night wore on as it always did; Emma laughed with the regulars, thanking them kindly when they tipped her well for the warm food and good ale. The cozy atmosphere and bustling pace flushed her cheeks and almost did make her forget for whole minutes at a time how much she did miss one particular sailor, how much she ached to see that dark head of hair proudly leading his crewmen through the door, ready to let loose after a long voyage, his booming laugh making her pulse flutter and a smile tug at her own lips giddily. Even as she prayed in equal measure that he stayed away for his own safety, the yearning refused to be smothered.

Just then she heard the opening chords of a familiar reel - one that she had often noticed Jones’ cook and quartermaster and some of the younger men on his ship singing bawdily along with. Once she had even thought her ears detected Killiain’s smooth, rich tone singing the refrain as well before he had caught himself and merely listened silently - reclaiming the image of the ever-serious captain. Emma’s head turned sharply, eyes seeking out Mulan at the piano, wondering what she was about playing that song now rather than the slower ballads and love songs Granny had bade for their holiday festivities.

To her shock, wondering how she could have missed their entrance, Emma’s mouth fell open at seeing that their musical warrior was no longer the player coaxing such fine notes from the ivory keys. It was the quartermaster on Jones’ ship. But how? And did that mean…?

Even as she just dared to hope, she felt him drawing near; his presence close at her back, the fine hairs at the nape of her neck standing on end in response. The heat radiating off him warmed her from shoulder to heel, and she felt a grin splitting her face even as she fought to school her reaction and not fling herself into his arms before one and all gathered there.

His voice was a low, soothing rumble at her ear as he came closer still, calloused fingers trailing down her arm where gooseflesh broke out in his wake until he tangled their fingers together. “Mistress Swan,” he crooned, true ardency in his words, though she cut her eyes over just enough to note the smirk playing about his lips. “You look more beautiful than ever. Might I be so bold as to steal a dance with you, Love?”

Despite the feeling that every cell and nerve ending was quivering with excitement, unclear whether her wobbling knees would support her, Emma gave a small tease of a smile in reply. It took all her resolve not to melt into his arms and nod mute acquiescence. Somehow though, she heard her own voice managing the sort of banter the two of them had perfected - their own secret language of a sort. “I’m not at all sure you can handle that, Captain… but you’re welcome to try.”

She winked and tossed her hair as she baited him, but in the next instant, all breath fled her lungs as Jones swept her up, pressed tightly to the firm lines of his body, arms holding her in an embrace both graceful and desperate. “What shall see who can handle themselves, Darling,” he growled against her cheek.  

Then they were whirling, spinning, flying through the paces of the jaunty tune with such all-consuming vigor and speed Emma felt her feet hardly touched the ground. For a time they were both lost in the song and the dance and the nearness of one another. As the notes finally subsided and a gentler melody took its place, they slowed, but Emma’s head still spun, fearing to pull away from Killian Jones. She gazed enthralled into the dark, kohl-lined crystal blue of his gaze, expecting a mocking tilt of his head and quirked brow as he asked just who it was who had been unable to handle their reunion. But Jones seemed equally breathless, at last stepping away only slightly to bend his head over her hand, clasping it in his and kissing the back of it reverently.

“You are such a sight for this poor sailor’s eyes,” he promised, looking up at her and causing what little breath she had gained to escape her once more. “Until the morrow?”

Emma nodded, wordless until she finally replied, “Aye, of course, Killian.”

He did not linger, heading back to his ship for the night, clearly not wishing them all to be seen enough to cause a stir or word to get around, but having left her with merely that chaste and gentlemanly caress of lips that now seemed seared into her skin, Emma could not help but watch him go, burning for so much more.

***  ***  ***  ***  ***

On this voyage the Jolly managed to remain until the spring thaw, some weeks in fact. Luck - or Fate - was on their side and the bulk of Queen Regina’s forces, and her perilous focus, had been drawn elsewhere. Killian kept a tight rein on his crew. They roamed the village quietly and inconspicuously, blending in and inviting no trouble. The ship was docked in the harbor, a beautiful vessel one felt compelled to admire, and yet, with the monarch and her henchmen in other parts of the usurped kingdom, the Jolly went unnoticed by those who would mean her - or her occupants - harm. The last traces of winter were melting into spring, just as the frozen ground in the village and nearby forest turned soft with mud and brightened with new shoots of green grass.

The air had been soft and beguiling, teasing at Emma’s cheeks and the ends of her long hair as she had run errands for Granny in the marketplace that afternoon. She sensed a change in the breeze as it played about her, and that evening as she watched only Killian, Smee, and his purser, a young man called Scarlet, come to dine and settle into a darker corner quietly, Emma knew what that sense had meant. It was time for them to set sail once more. And, even with the tight mass of nerves balled in her stomach, she had reached a decision as well.

Making her way over to take their orders with a friendly smile, Emma tried to send Killian the sort of secretive seduction of the eyes that he had so often turned upon her. She knew he took her signal, mischief sparkling in his own irises in return, and yet his bided his time, tongue firmly planted in cheek.

She turned to go, and suddenly she felt his strong arms wrap around her waist, pulling her backwards into his lap. A playful shriek of surprise escaped her as she landed abruptly, but none of the resistance, nor the punch or slap, she would have offered any other who tried to manhandle her so. Instead, she quickly turned toward him to burrow into his embrace - taking him more than a bit off guard with her enthusiastic response.

“You’ve worked out that we must be on our way, haven’t you, Lass?” he murmured in her ear softly.

Emma nodded, the lump in her throat strangling any audible response as she stared back at him, not even daring to blink and let him vanish from her sight. Leaning in to make sure his next words whispered with hoarse emotion were for her ears alone, Jones added, “Come with me, Emma? Come and be my Pirate Queen?”

He seemed genuinely uncertain, hard as it was for Emma to believe him not assured she would love nothing more. His tongue wet his lips nervously as he awaited her answer, which only made Emma further resolved in her choice.

Meeting his hopeful gaze, she offered a trembling smile before nodding vigorously, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. It was a soaring relief to be gathered closer as he swept in to capture her mouth - all hesitance long forgotten - and plunder it thoroughly in a kiss that nearly drowned her.

Emma would miss the other girls who had become her friends and sisters, the safety and familiarity of the home she had found at Granny’s, but she would gain an inestimable boon in return. Love - real and true and all-consuming. And when the Jolly Roger set sail with the dawn, she was at her Captain’s side.

Tagging: @cssecretsanta2020  @let-it-raines @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @tiganasummertree @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi​ @thislassishooked​

[runeterrankhaleesi]

I've been seeing a lot about OC's lately, so I figured I'd share one of mine too. Long ask incoming. Just a warning, this is super dark at times. Cue suicidal ideations, for instance.

Her name's Tamara. She's nothing special, just a human from one of the wandering tribes of Shurima. A bit tan, brown eyes and black hair. She was friends with Akshan until he died because after that traumatizing event her family quickly left the city and haven't looked back ever since. When she was 15, she and her family (mother, father and two older brothers) decided to move out at some point and got aboard a ship that sailed first towards Valoran, then in Ionia's general direction. In a storm they strayed from the course and got a bit lost at the sea, which gave them an unpleasant meeting with a pirate ship later. One that resulted in the ship catching fire and beginning to sink. Tamara got out but her family was stuck under the deck. In the end, she jumped and got a hold of some piece of wood to save herself from drowning. The ship went down along with everyone on board. Tamara drifted for three days, blaming herself for the death of her family, telling herself she could've went back for them and got the door unstuck from the outside but she was too afraid. Basically, she sees herself as their killer. After three days on the sea, hypothermic, dehydrated and starving, she was miraculously discovered by a crew of monster hunters. One of the harpooners got her on board and they sailed for Bilgewater.

There, the same harpooner gave her a couple of coins to help her start anew once she said she has no one left. Tamara ended up working for some inn, mildly horrified by the.. way of being of people around her. Her savior sometimes would swing by for a drink after work and soon they became friends. And good for her because with him around, nobody dared to so much as leer at her. Through the next couple years, Tamara struggled with survivor's guilt but slowly recovered. Until one faithful day when her only friend in this godforsaken place - Pyke - did not return from the hunt.

Heartbroken and scared, Tamara (19 at the time) started to think she angered something up there and that she brings bad luck to those associated with her in any way. Unable to escape from Bilgewater, she stayed where she worked but in constant fear of the people coming to the inn, especially the drunk ones. For another year, she tried to deal with nightmares of her family's screams and the image of Pyke drowning or being chomped in half by some sea creature.

She never was brave enough to end herself. Every time something was stopping her. And when a murderer started to stalk the nooks and crannies of Blood Harbor, she saw it as a chance. Oddly enough, even going through the darkest paths in the town in the dead of night, she never managed to meet the Ripper.

While she was too scared to do this herself, she did often try to put herself in harm's way, hoping someone would do it for her. And she almost, just almost got her wish when Harrowing came as it did every year. This time, instead of hiding, she walked into the middle of it. And in the swirling coils of the Black Mist she caught the Warden's eye. It kind of surprised him that a simple mortal didn't run but fearlessly walked straight towards him. She pretty much served herself on a silver platter, which was a bit disappointing. Not that he's complaining, besides, he found her intriguing. At first.

Tamara was taken by the wraith to Shadow Isles and placed within magical wards of an underground vault where the Mist couldn't drain her of her life. Shackled and unwilling to escape, she stayed there as Thresh's newest toy. I'm not gonna describe all the torture, that's really not necessary. In any way, despite her life turning into hell, she thought she deserved everything the Warden did to her (for the "murder" of her family and "bringing death" upon her only remaining friend). Once, before she passed out while she was sure she's dying, she even thanked him which just blew his mind. Afterwards, Thresh performed an experiment. Left everything open, seeing if Tamara would take a chance and flee. Then he would get the chase he wanted.

Nah. Tamara stayed where she was, impatient for the wraith to finally finish her off. Breaking an already broken soul brought Thresh no enjoyment so he eventually grew bored with her and kinda forgot about her, looking for someone more entertaining. Time on Shadow Isles doesn't really flow (my personal headcanon) so she had no need for sustenance and it gave her weeks to ponder over her current position. Thinking if all victims if the Mist had to go through the same pain that was inflicted upon her, if Thresh will ever come back to "add her to his collection" and so on.

He didn't. Instead, someone else did. A grim Sentinel of Light who hunted creatures such as Thresh. It was bizarre to find a living human on Shadow Isles and he figured she must be a captive. Promising to come back, he asked if she'd seen Thresh anywhere nearby and she reluctantly said it's been weeks since he gave her any attention. And the man - Lucian - did come back. Beaten up and tired, with another woman at his side. The two Sentinels took Tamara along. During her imprisonment, she learned a lot about the spirits and the Mist and stuff (also managed to get herself slightly cursed, not as much as Senna but still) and it made her useful. Lucian was kind of skeptical about letting her out. "Thresh will come after her again anyway." But she assured him that it won't happen. The Warden lost all interest in her after she refused to fight for her freedom. To him, she was bleak and boring. He had no reason to hunt her down again.

Senna and Lucian gave Tamara new hope by taking her in and even if her fear and guilt still remained, she started to see what an awful mistake she almost made. After the whole Viego thing that was seen in the cinematic, Tamara was sheltered in the Headquarters. And for the first time she felt the urge to be useful. No one should suffer like those lost within the Mist and those taken by it like she was. And so she joined the Sentinels' cause to stop the Harrowing from spreading.

Little did she know that their mission together will one day bring a soul crushing reunion with two people she thought lost forever. One, barely changed from when she knew him. The other.. sadly a vengeful shadow of the man who saved her at the sea. But that's a story for another time.

Darling, you should be working at Riot right now, this story is amazing!

[the-faultofdaedalus]

Pls tell me more about deep sea and space because that's one of the reasons I love Stevetony... Steve was submerged and Tony fell from the sky. The poetry is exquisite

space horror is just sea horror but flipped around and EXPONENTIALLY bigger. like, ive never been in space and i have never been far enough from any shore to not be able to see land, but it’s that same kind of........... feeling, to me, at least.

both are just, so, so big, so big that we as humans are not built to understand that scale. if you’re lost in the middle, there is no way you can determine which way is safe and solid ground. for me the.... horror? i guess? comes mostly from the not knowing. not neccecarily the sense of monsters in the dark? but in the sense that there are things about BOTH of these places that we will never, ever know about. it’s that loss of knowledge. that’s what gets me.

also, just, the scale of both of these things that are both utterly inhospitable to humans. on the surface, just barely touching it... we’re fine. we can duck in for small amounts of time, hold our breath. any deeper and any further in and you need special equipment and metal tanks so that just being in it’s presence won’t kill you. because it will kill you. it’s not malicious, it doesn’t hate you. it’ll kill you regardless.

like, all the horror of the open sea: being stranded on a raft, or an island, nothing but ocean further and further out to the horizon, no food no water no shelter, the only life too far to reach, the idea that even if you DID try to swim or paddle to safety you would have absolutely no guarantee that you would ever hit land, ever see another craft. you don’t know which way has safety. there’s no way to know. you might get caught up by a current and be whisked even further away from rescue, you might float into a city or a boat and be rescued almost instantly. you might be able to infer which way is safe, but mostly.... no. no you can’t. that isolation and that lack of resources, including knowledge.

that is space, but take all that and make it much, much, much, bigger. you can sail across the pacific ocean. there is a finite amount of water on earth. there is NO end to space. in this case, your continents, your islands, your safe harbors, they’re planets. insignificant dots scattered throughout nothing. in space, a fraction of a fraction of a decimal off-course can be the difference between hitting solid ground and breathable air or sailing past into void forever, and ever, and ever.

it’s not about what horrors might lurk in the depth!!!! it’s not about sharks, or space-sharks, or whateverthefuck. the fear of the ocean isn’t... oh, something might brush your toes -- though there is that as well. it’s not about what’s out there. it’s about what’s not out there, and how little is out there. it’s about how much nothing is out there. how much absolutely fuck-all is out there.

one of my favorite quotes about space and space horror of all time is “you don’t have to look up to see space, you have to look away from safety” and that’s... that’s really it. (quote is from nerdcubed’s outer wilds game of the year 2019 monologue, which is fantastic, as is the game he’s taking about)

it’s also, mostly for space specifically though again this applies to the ocean but on a smaller scale, is time. is how long things have been around, and how long things will continue to be around, and how long the universe will be around without anything else in it, and how long humans and human memory will not be around.

it’s about how long it takes to get from any point a to point b. it takes about a week for a cargo ship to get from china to canada. it used to take a lot longer, but now we have better boats.

at our current level of technology, it takes seven months to get to mars, the closest planet to us that isn’t Actually Hell (sorry mercury and venus) and that’s at the best possible lineup. It takes light forty two minutes to get to Jupiter. that’s light. that’s a forty two minute lag-time if you want to just talk to someone, who is still WELL within our solar system. There’s years of lag between what we see and what is actually happening at even the closest stars to us, and even more when it comes to actually getting there. Can you imagine being an explorer, freshly touched down on this planet that you’re going to be studying, knowing that it’s taken you thirty years to get here and that you’ll most likely never have a conversation with any of the same people ever again because it takes years to send a single message one-way? can you imagine that isolation? any journey to any other star would take so long and it’s horrifying.

Every single thing in space is so much further apart than any media ever really shows. Asteroid belts aren’t these dense, terrifying-to-navigate bands of rock. The space between single asteroids can be hundreds of thousands of miles. the scary part isn’t what is there it’s what not! it’s that there’s nothing! ever! for millions of miles!

there’s a great side plot in a podcast called wolf 355 (skip this para if u care about spoilers) where one of the main characters gets launched, in a shuttle, away from the station and the star that is the main setting for the podcast. there’s only a limited amount of food, only a limited amount of water, and the main engines are dead. The only thing this character can do to try and save himself is turn very slightly to the right, every three days. The way he tries to save himself is by putting himself on an intercept course with another ship, which is still over a lightyear away from him. The only way he can do this without starving to death is by using the shuttle’s cryo pod, for three days at a time, firing the booster, and repeating that. again, and again, and again, and in the end it is still not enough because he’s getting destroyed from the repeated freeze/thaw and eventually he runs out of water because the cryo systems use water and even after all of that, which amounts to around 200 days, there is this: he is on course, but he is not on time. at his current speed, to intercept with the other ship, would take six thousand years. (he’s eventually rescued by another ship, but only by coincidence.)

it’s so big! space is just so big, and so empty, and there’s amazing things in that emptiness that humans will never know about because even though they’re happening right now they’ll be eroded before we ever get to see them.

and thats still without any of the horrifying incomprehensible monsters that could be out there waiting to munch us up like sour cream chips.

[phykios]

the marble king, part 5 [read on ao3] [rated m for Adult thoughts]

“We sail East,” she said, indicating their direction on the crude map she had drawn in the dirt of Piraeus Harbor, “following the path of the Argo as it sailed towards Colchis. Once we have passed through the straits of the Bosphorus , then we shall turn North, hugging the western edge of the Pontos Axeinos as we travel to Olbia.”

Percy frowned, squinting, leaning in closer in his crouch so as to see better. “Olbia? I have never heard of that place before.”

“Few have,” she said. “It has been abandoned near on a thousand years, which will make it the ideal place for us to rest a while once we have arrived. From there on, we will travel upriver on the Danapris , for roughly three days' time, until we come upon the rapids.”

He started. “Rapids?”

“Yes, Perseus, rapids,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You know, the portions of the river which are suddenly much faster than the parts surrounding it?”

“I do know what rapids are,” he snapped. Moreover, he knew how dangerous rapids could be, both within the river and without it. “You never mentioned that we would have to navigate through rapids.”

“What, are you so worried that your powers will fail you so far from the sea?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed. Oceans were, certainly, more his forte, but he could more than handle a mere river. “I simply would have liked to know beforehand that I must sail through rapids.”

“I am telling you beforehand.”

He scowled. “How many?”

“Seven.”

“Seven?!”

“And you will not have to sail through them; we will portage our ship around them, as the Varangians did.”

He stared, perturbed. That was her foolproof plan? To carry their boat from one end of the river to another? “You do know that will put us in considerable danger, yes? What is to stop us from being attacked by some wandering barbarian?”

Her lips twisting, he could sense that he had won a point in their little repartee, much to her frustration and chagrin. “As I have said,” she spoke through gritted teeth, as though he were an imbecile, “the river road has long since fallen out of use. We will just have to pray that we are lucky.”

Raising his eyes to the heavens, Percy was starting to wonder if Annabeth was not, as she claimed, truly a daughter of Athena. “We will have to be more than lucky,” he said. “You know that your route will take us straight through the heart of Ottoman territory.”

If they followed her plan, then as they sailed the Bosphorus, they would have to travel right past Constantinople and the Golden Horn--not only that, they would have to travel unseen and undetected, for Prosphorion was surely littered with Ottoman ships and soldiers. For all their talents and strengths, should they be spotted by an enemy sailor, the two of them simply could not hold back an entire navy.

“Then we will rest at Sigeion the day before,” she determined, drawing a short, thin line in the sand, “and proceed after sunset. Once we have traversed the straits, we can keep to deeper waters until we pass the mouth of the Istros .”

The Istros was quite far along up the coast, a fact with which, he knew, she was well acquainted. Did she expect him to be able to create fire on their vessel so that they could cook fish, in order to avoid making camp on unfriendly land? “This is insane,” said Percy. “Your plan is--lunacy, Annabeth.”

When she raised her head to look at him, his breath nearly caught in his throat.

He had, as of late, come to the unfortunate realization that the woman who traveled with him was quite lovely. More than lovely, in fact; she had always been rather pretty, but in the short time they had been together, he was beginning to truly understand just how beautiful she really was. In fact, though he would be loath to admit it out loud, for even though the gods had vanished, he knew all too well what the consequences of such a brash action would be, he would go so far as to say that she was, perhaps, even more beautiful than any of the sea nymphs whom he had romanced in the past.

The sea nymphs all tended to favor his own coloring, with deeply tanned skin and glossy black hair. Annabeth, by contrast, had long, blonde locks, which, even dirty as they were, shone gold in the sunlight, neatly woven and pinned up to the back of her head, stunning in its simplicity. Surrounding her face, little gilded wisps of hair would escape her braid in the oppressive humidity, tightly coiled. Her skin was smooth, her mouth a comely shape, her neck long and graceful as a swan, and he knew firsthand just how strong she was. Those slate grey eyes peered at him, ringed with long, soft lashes, such a strange counterpoint to the hardened desperation which shone from them, wrinkling her forehead.

“I know of no better way to Svealand,” said she, the breath almost barely leaving her body. “If we were to travel over land, we would still encounter the Ottomans, or the Latins, or the Franks, or whatever trouble the Fates would see fit to send our way. This way, on the Danapris, is the fastest, safest road I can imagine; well worn but out of fashion, we can follow the river all the way to the Northernmost seas, and then make our way to my father’s home. And,” she blushed, and Percy was once again transfixed by her visage as roses, red and soft, blossomed on her cheeks, winding their way down her neck. He swallowed. “I thought--I mean, with your skills at navigation, I assumed--”

She did this for him, he realized then. She had selected a route which she thought would not only remove as many obstacles from their path as one could possibly account for, but would also grant him some measure of comfort and power in this strange land and even stranger time. The dissolution of their rivalry, the end to their parents’ legendary feud, she had taken it to her heart.

He blushed in turn, his pulse racing. “Right,” he said, his tongue dumb in his mouth. “Yes. Of course. I can… yes.”

It was no longer a simple question of whether or not he could, but rather a question of how skillfully he would. Annabeth was counting on him to see her safely home, and he would be damned if he let her down now.

Though, he did have one additional concern. “Will our ship be able to sail upon the river?”

As one, they both looked towards the little monoxylon which bobbed in the harbor. The little ship, which Percy had privately taken to calling the Empress , was as crude as crude could possibly be, given that they had crafted it in a matter of days, helped along by some of their divine talents. It was, in all honesty, barely more than a dugout canoe, with a very primitive sail and rudder attached, but between the two of them, it had been solidly made. She was a sturdy ship, and fast, though that was, perhaps, more a function of Percy’s skill as a sailor than any testament to their combined aptitude for mathematics.

All water gave him strength, but no water sustained him more than that of the sea, which was at once his birthright and the source of his power, so despite any perceived bravado on his part that he may or may not have displayed, the thought of sailing so far upriver was… unsettling. He never liked to be far from the sea if he could help it.

“I don’t see why not,” she said, shrugging, seemingly unconcerned, though not well enough, as he had become so attuned to her body that he could see the tense line of her shoulders. “The Norsemen would sail their longboats back and forth with all of their crews and cargo; ours should be considerably less trouble, no?”

Well, she was not wrong. “Very well,” said Percy, standing up from his crouch, reaching for the sky as he stretched. With a satisfying pop of his spine, he sighed, dropping back onto the balls of his feet, looking down at Annabeth, who stared up at him, her cheeks still flushed. “Shall we proceed?”

Standing as well, with a swipe of her foot, she erased her map. “We shall.”

And thus, they were off.

***

With the wind at their backs, Percy was able to shave roughly a day’s time off of their return journey to Sigeion, though, as they did not have an estimated time of arrival, he supposed, in the grand scheme of things, it did not matter much. The only tangible outcome at this time was that it put them in the path of the Ottomans that much sooner.

As before, the sea was uncomfortably empty. Not still, for the water was ever flowing, the waves ever undulating, nor entirely devoid of life, for there was still fish a plenty to be found and eaten, but empty in the sense that some vital or integral component was missing from the whole. The winds and the waves were still there, but they felt incomplete, almost, the colors not quite as potent, the salty tang not quite as strong. It was as though he were left alone in someone else’s home after they had stepped out for a moment, a strange glimpse into a world in which he did not truly belong. All around him, the sea birds stood watch, gazing on him with cold, sightless eyes, watching impassionate as he passed beneath their gaze, heading ever eastwards.

With little fanfare, they passed over the spot where poor Helle had lost her life, as Annabeth was entirely embroiled with her weaving. He had not liked to watch her sulk, so withdrawn after they had departed from Athens, that he had given her something of a silly task to keep her occupied, and asked her to make them some more rope. Rope was never a thing to have too much of out at sea, and it gave her something to do with her hands. If he was being honest with himself as well, he would admit to enjoying watching her face as she wove, her furrowed brow, her pink tongue poking through her lips.

Making camp once again at Sigeion, Annabeth laid herself down for a nap in the shade of a tree near the shore, extracting a promise from him that he would allow her to take the night watch as they sailed that evening, for Percy had, by his own admission, been running himself somewhat ragged these past few days. The sea gave him power, yes, but he was not as infinite as he claimed, and even he required rest from time to time. However, as they cast off from shore that night, he found himself loath to wake her as she slipped into a deep sleep, for once not tossing and turning from the horrors that plagued her dreams, her face slack with exhaustion.

It was merely one more night. He would persevere.

And, perhaps, he thought she might not wish to see Constantinople like this.

Even in the dark, the broken walls were lit up with torches, the towers raised with poles of black horsehair, flying alongside red flags adorned with yellow crescent moons. It must have been time for evening prayers, for the singer’s voice carried past the walls of the city and over the still waters, hauntingly beautiful as always. How strange, he thought, that he could not find it in himself to hate this sound, even though the men who sang it had taken his city for their own.

It was well into the dawn when at last, Annabeth awoke, her eyes slowly fluttering open. “Good morning, your majesty,” he could not help but jest from his position at the rudder, injecting as much humor into his tone as he could.

“Percy,” she mumbled, sleepily indignant, as she rubbed her face. “You promised you would let me take the night watch.”

“I did,” he agreed, thinking quickly, for he did not want to show his hand, “but we caught an excellent wind last night, and I did not want to miss it. I swear to you, as soon as we sail into the Pontos Axeinos , I shall relinquish command and take my rest.”

“See to it that you do.” She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. “Where are we?”

“We are coming up on the end of the straits,” said Percy, adjusting the length of a rope. “If this wind continues, we should pass through to the sea within the hour.”

“Excellent.” Making her way from the other end of their ship, she came up beside him, leaning over the edge to peer at the water as it rushed beneath them. She adjusted remarkably well, he thought, for someone who was not used to sailing; on a vessel this small, people were prone to all manner of seasickness. “How fast can this thing sail, do you reckon?”

He frowned. “I am not certain,” he said. “Why?”

“We will need to make all possible haste if we are to survive the Symplegades ,” she said, with an unconcerned air.

“The Symplegades ?” he asked.

She fixed him with a strange look, but one with which he was intimately familiar; it was the look that she gave him whenever he had done something she found particularly foolish. “The clashing rocks?” she said, as though that offered clarity.

He did not recall such a thing, and he shook his head.

“Honestly, phykios , how is it that you were able to slay the Titan king, and yet you still somehow lack the most basic knowledge of our history?”

“Because I know that you will tell me of it,” he quipped.

Her face twisting, she turned away, reaching for her unfinished project. “Then allow me to enlighten you; the Symplegades are the rocks through which Jason and his Argonauts sailed on their journey to the court of King Aeetes.”

“And why, if I may ask, do we need to make all possible haste?”

“The rocks strike one another whenever a ship passes between them. The boats are either crushed between the stones, or they are smashed upon the beaches when they are caught in the monstrous waves.”

“How wonderful.” Now that she had said it, of course, he did start to recall the particulars of that story. “Jason escaped unscathed, did he not?”

“He sent forth a dove in his place to measure the speed at which they must sail, and then he matched it.”

“Excellent. And you have a dove, I suppose, tucked away in your skirts for this very purpose?”

She glared, harrumphing, her lips turned in a frown as she diverted her attention back to her ropes. “Legend holds that the rocks were permanently frozen after Jason made his escape, but you know as well as I how these things come round again. Monsters never truly die, and as the cycle must always continue, surely these perils will as well.”

Peering over the edge of their boat, it did not look as though the water were any more or less dangerous than at the other end of the passage, held in the grip of the Ottoman navy. Nor did he hear any odd sounds, no noises which were not the gentle susurrations of the waves, or the cries of seabirds, or the billowing of their sail. If there were enormous, thundering rocks at the mouth of the Bosphorus, he could see no evidence of it.

Before very much longer, the coasts surrounding them began to widen, edging away from their craft as the land gave way to the mouth of the Pontus Axeinos . Annabeth lifted her head from her weaving, making her way to the bow of their boat. “Here,” she said, “we shall soon be upon the rocks.”

She gave no order for him to speed up or slow their pace, so onwards they continued, steady, serene.

“Any moment now,” she murmured. “Any moment.”

Percy tensed, preparing himself, Annabeth’s strong rope twisted in his grasp.

“Be ready!” she called back to him, all her attention focused ahead.

“On your mark,” he replied. Whatever their animosities, at this time he would happily defer to her command.

They sailed onwards.

They met no resistance.

Confused, Annabeth looked back, glancing behind them. Percy looked as well--they were well past the mouth of the straits, heading unimpeded in the open waters.

“Shall I turn North?” he asked.

“I…” Disturbed, nearly pale despite the warm dawn light, she looked back and forth, from bow to stern, searching for a solution which simply did not present itself. “Yes,” she said, after a moment. “North.”

“Very good.” And he pulled the rudder, changing their course.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Where were the rocks?”

“Well,” Percy said, slowly, unwilling to upset her further, “you did say that the rocks were stopped. Perhaps they never came back to life.”

She fixed him with a look he could not bear to see on her face; bewildered and hurt, desperate and angry, a mosaic of sorrow and confusion crossed her lovely features. “Have you ever known a monster to stay dead?” she asked. “Any one at all? Pasiphae’s son returned to fight for the titans. The Furies chased you across the peninsula, even after death. Why should the Symplegades be any different?”

With nothing but a thought, he commanded the vessel to sail itself for some time, for he was very tired, and he had been promised a rest. “I do not know,” he said, settling down on the least lumpy pile of their supplies for a morning nap. “My father’s court deserted, your mother’s temple neglected--who is to say that the monsters have not abandoned us as well?”

Hearing no answer, he closed his eyes, letting the motion of the waves rock him to sleep. As he drifted off, he thought he heard the strangest sound--a mighty boom , like the crack of thunder, though he could not sense any storm on the horizon. Perhaps, however, he was merely imagining things.

***

Percy had never traveled so far North in his entire life, and he did not enjoy it. The air seemed colder, almost, and harsher, the sun beating down on them, and yet providing no warmth nor comfort. Even the stars at night were strange, for while he saw the constellations of his youth-- Chelae , the claws of the scorpion, Cynosura , the dog’s tail, and, of course, the Huntress herself--but he could not see them as clearly as he once had. As the words on a paper scroll or a wax tablet, the stars would rearrange themselves before his very eyes, forming shapes he could not identify, until his vision swam and his heart would ache too deeply to continue looking.

All that, and the ever-present threat of the Ottomans, of course.

Yet Annabeth was right, as she often was; once they passed the mouth of the Istros, the Ottoman presence noticeably dropped, until, after an entire week had gone by without a single hint of another ship in the horizon, Percy had to admit that they were well and truly out of that particular danger, though he could not even begin to imagine what might lie ahead.

It was many days until they reached the ancient settlement of Olbia. He had tried to keep count, but the days slipped through his fingers like sand, leaving him adrift in the sea of time. Perhaps it had been months since the fall of Constantinople, or merely days. He could no longer tell.

That night, once again, they made camp in the long shadows of an abandoned city. Their fire flickered against a squat stone wall built into the side of a hill, its vaults and ceilings long since destroyed. Percy took one corner, and Annabeth the other, sharing their meal of bread and fish. They had been sailing for so long, even he was beginning to feel it, his muscles so sore and aching that he almost could no longer feel them. When he glanced at Annabeth, she looked very much the same, staring into the heart of the flames with an almost empty, vacant gaze, the flickering lights reflecting dully off her golden hair. She was exhausted. They both were.

“Some water?” he asked.

She shook her head, so minutely that were it not for the flames, he would not have thought she moved at all.

Several days earlier, they had put to port in a town along the coast, a little seaside trading post with a white castle resting on top of the nearby cliff, a town which Annabeth had thought was called Mavrokastron or Moncastro or something similar to that. Having not heard Italian in several weeks, it had been something of a shock to the system to hear it spoken this far from Constantinople, though he was pleased to see that his rudimentary language skill had not yet been forgotten, as he was able to purchase a few more supplies for the road ahead. Being the son of a very famous fisherman, Percy could very easily be relied upon to provide the two of them with meat should they require it; things like bread and cheese were somewhat more difficult to procure on their own when constantly on the move. Acting on a whim, he had, with his leftover funds, purchased some dried fruit as well, something to save for a particularly hard day. Looking at Annabeth now, it seemed her hard day was well upon her.

“Here.” He passed her the food parcel, laying it at her feet. “Help yourself to some figs.”

She did not pick it up. Were it not for the fact that he could very clearly see her breathe, see her blinking, she may as well have been a statue, propped up against the wall.

Percy looked down to the shore, where he had tied the Empress to a nearby tree. She bobbed sweetly against the gentle tide, her sail fluttering in the nighttime breeze. “I think,” he said, carefully, for he knew from past experience that suggesting things contrary to Annabeth’s grand plan could result in disaster, “that we should take one more day here.”

No response.

“Just one, mind you. I could do a few more repairs on our ship, catch some more fish--and I can almost certainly promise you that we will need more rope.”

Still, she said nothing.

“Very well,” said Percy. “I shall take your silence as assent, and shall begin work on the morrow.”

“Fine,” said Annabeth, her voice barely more than a puff of wind.

“Oh, so she does speak! And here I thought that you were so repulsed by my very presence that you could not bear to engage me in conversation.”

“I am not ignoring you,” she said, “I am merely tired.”

He snorted. “Indeed. You must be exhausted after all that sailing you did.”

At any other time, Annabeth would have seized upon the chance to trade barbs with him, unable to resist the siren song of taking her mortal enemy to task. But not tonight, it seemed.

“What is it?” he asked.

An Annabeth who would not rise to his bait was a disturbing sight, indeed. He would rather have a traveling companion who would not cease in her berating, her irritation with him, her constant, acerbic comments towards his parentage and his intelligence, than this corpse who sat before the fire.

“I thought…” she murmured.

“Thought what?”

With a sigh, she tipped her head back against the wall, watching the smoke rise. “I truly hoped she would be in Athens.”

“Your mother?”

She nodded. “I--I think I knew, deep in my heart, but I did not want to believe it. When you told me of your father’s empty halls, I had this… sinking feeling, in my chest, this feeling that something was wrong.” Bringing her hand to that offensive spot, she closed her eyes. “I did not realize what it was until we had passed through the clashing rocks unharmed.”

“Realize what?”

“That you were right, Percy. The gods, the monsters; they have all of them abandoned us.”

She had admitted that he was right; once upon a time, he would have thought there could be no greater reward, but now he would have given much for her to take it back. “You do not think it to be a coincidence?”

“I do not see how it could be otherwise,” she sighed, folding her legs beneath her. “I cannot remember the last time I went so long without encountering a monster of some manner or another. The two of us, together? It should, in theory, present an irresistible target. Do you not remember our first quest together?”

Despite the myriad and multitude of terrors that they had encountered as children, thrown together by a cruel twist of fate, time had transformed a few of the horrors into fond memories. “How could I forget? We had barely left the borders of camp before the Kindly Ones descended upon us.”

Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, but he thought he saw her lips quirk up in a smile. “And we destroyed that poor man’s wagon.”

“Smashed it to bits,” he confirmed. “The first of many.”

Annabeth, almost reluctantly, chuckled. “We have shared many an adventure, haven’t we?”

“And once again, we find ourselves on another epic quest.”

“But it is not merely another quest,” she said, her face once again sad and drawn. “There is no hero’s reward waiting for us at the end this time.”

He raised his water skin at her, in toast. “Here’s to your safe delivery, then, as that is all the reward that I shall require.”

“Well,” she said, reaching for the parcel of food at her feet, “my father is not without money. Should he still live, I am certain he would be happy to provide you with some measure of compensation.”

“Wonderful. Perhaps by the end of our journey, I will divine what to do with it.”

She hummed, thoughtful as she nibbled on a bit of dried fig. “What will you do,” she asked, “after we reach Svealand?”

Laying out his sleeping roll, he shrugged. “Become a sailor, I suppose,” he said, “if I cannot find Chiron and his students. Or perhaps I shall make my way to Aachen after all; Iason and Reyna promised me I would always have a place with the Legion.”

“You and your precious Legion,” she scoffed, though there was something darker underlying her tone, something cruel, and hateful.

“What you have against the Legion, I shall never understand,” he said, resting his head on the grass. “They are a good people; what’s more, they are our friends and allies.”

“The Legion were the ones who stole the Parthenos ,” she said, bitter as sour fruit. “Just one of the many, many insults they have levied against my mother over the years.”

“Those men have long since passed,” said Percy. “Whatever your feelings towards them, the Legion of today is a far, far cry from the men and women of Troia .”

Her brow furrowed, she shook her head, incredulous. “They stole you , Percy.”

“They did not steal me, they found me,” he corrected. “Were it not for them, I would have died a thousand times over.”

“And as thanks, you begged them to brand you as a slave, I am sure.”

In truth, he had not had much of a choice in that matter. It all had happened so quickly; one moment, he had fended off an invasion of giants, and in the next, their augur had grabbed a hold of his arm, and the mark had appeared in a flash of light and pain, indelible proof of his service to Rome. In time, he had come to accept it as part of him, and to ignore it as such. “This is just their way, no more or less strange than our yearly talismans,” he said, though he had a feeling such a weak argument would do very little to convince her.

“It is not the same,” she insisted. “A necklace can be removed. You are marked for life, and as a romanus .” And at that hateful word, she spat into the dirt.

“There is much worse that I could be than a soldier of Rome, Annabeth,” he said, quietly, for that was what he was still, was he not? Though he no longer fought with the Legion, he had spent his last years as a soldier for another relic of the once great empire.

She tilted her head, almost curious, were it not for the mocking gleam he could detect in her eye. “What would they offer you to betray the Hellenes , hm?” Folding her hands in her lap, she leaned forward, a cruel smile stretching across her pretty face. “A province to govern? A seat in the Imperial Senate? Or perhaps a pretty Roman bride, awaiting you in your villa in Aachen? On your return from Svealand, will you find Reyna at your hearth, or any other Roman lady?”

It was not an unfamiliar accusation. Similar taunts had been levied at him before, by his less understanding comrades at camp. “No,” he said, dully, “I am not interested in a Roman bride--nor is a Roman bride interested in me.”

Her brows shot up. “Now that,” she said, “I cannot believe. You mean to tell me that you spent so many months among the Legion, and yet not one girl thought to snap you up as a husband?”

As a child of the elder gods, Percy was set apart from his peers in a few small, but rather distinct ways. There were certain powers he possessed, certain tricks and charms that he could utilize, and certain statuses that he would not claim that he did not enjoy, from time to time. Unfortunate as it was, for womenfolk, they often found themselves in the unenviable position of having to secure for themselves a good man for a husband, one who could provide status and comfort both, and all the women Percy knew were very, very clever. They knew what to seek in a partner, and they tended not to be shy about their intentions. More than once had Percy been approached by one of his fellow campers, who thought that she might cultivate quite a match for herself, as surely a son of Poseidon and a hero of Olympus should make for an excellent husband. Alas, once they had discovered that he had little more to offer than a mortal fisherman could, they elected not to pursue him further.

On the whole, he did not mind it terribly. He did not speak of it often, but he had always wished to follow in his mother’s footsteps, and marry for love, rather than for politics or protection. Had he been married to a woman he did not care for in that manner, he predicted that he would be a poor husband indeed. It would not be fair to either of them, he thought, unless he was as truly devoted to her as she was to him.

“I was no more a choice for a woman of the Legion than I would have been for a woman from the agoge ,” he said finally, after some time. “And there is none that I have known, either.” He smiled, indulging in a memory.

She raised an eyebrow. “You have never lain with a woman?” she asked, voice dripping with ill-concealed contempt.

“No mortal woman, no.” For he had had the good fortune to romance a nymph or two, a goddess here or there. There had been Calypso, on the island of Ogygia; Thetis, in the court of his father’s palace; a nereid or two with particularly pretty smiles and delicate wrists. The immortal women he had known did not require much of anything from him beyond his time and his affection, which he was more than pleased to provide… and occasionally his tongue, as well.

“But a mortal man?” asked Annabeth, well and truly curious now.

He froze.

Percy was not ashamed of much in his life, and he was most assuredly not ashamed of the time he had spent with Iason. He had been a good man, handsome and strong, and he had found Percy equally as beguiling as Percy did him. Theirs had been more than a mere soldiers’ romance, and he held no shame in his heart at the things that they had done to each other. Yet for some reason, he did not wish to divulge this information to Annabeth. It was not, he knew, because he thought she might shame him for his choice of sexual partner; at the agoge it was quite common to hear of a man lying with another man, or a woman with a woman. As their ancestors had done, mighty names such as Achilles, or Sappho, or even the gods themselves, so too did the half-divine children of the Hellenes not always limit themselves to the opposite sex.

No, he did not wish to share his name, because he did not want to hear her heap further scorn on his Roman allies.

“Yes,” he said. “I have.” And that was all the information he shared.

“I see,” said Annabeth, coloring lightly. “You are one of those sorts of heroes, then.”

He started, something hot bristling in his stomach. “How do you mean?”

“Like Achilles and Patroclus,” she said. “Or Alexander and Hephaestion.”

Who would feel shame, to be included among such vaulted company? Certainly not Percy. “And if I am?” he asked, raising his head. “Would that present a problem for you?”

If it did, perhaps she would get her wish, and would leave her to travel alone after all.

“Don’t be foolish,” she said, with a withering glare. “Of course not. I simply… did not realize.” She was flushing again, visible even against the dim firelight. Annabeth, he had noticed, tended to blush with the whole of her, her body curling in on itself, crossing her arms and looking away from him. “I--find it difficult to believe, is all.”

“What?”

“That you did not pursue a relationship with Rachael.”

Confused, he sat up, frowning. “You know she is obliged to be a maiden, yes?”

“I meant before then.” Beneath long lashes, she glanced at him for a single, sweet moment. “I know you two were close before she became Apollo’s priestess.”

They had been, the summer of the great prophecy. Struggling beneath a burden to rival that of Atlas, Percy had sought some measure of escape from the camp and from his destiny, an escape which Rachael had provided to him. She had granted him a dream and a fantasy, a small sliver of hope in a time when all those around him had been sure that he would perish come summer’s end. Even Annabeth would sometimes look at him as though she were preparing to weave his funeral shroud once more.

That summer, things had been very strange between the two of them, Percy and Annabeth. She had been struggling, he knew, to come to terms with the deep betrayals that Lukas had committed, and she had not been as kind to Percy as, perhaps, she had meant to be. He had forgiven her for it, of course--he in turn had not always comported himself so properly--for they had both borne their respective weights, and had not always supported each other as friends and allies should. More simply put, Rachael had been there for him, when she had not.

“No,” he said. “We had considered it, but…”

But Rachael had been cleverer than he, and had eventually turned him away, with a knowing grin, bidding him instead to seek out someone else.

Someone whom he had known since he was a boy. Someone who had weathered all sorts of storms by his side. Someone who had defied her mother and declared her allegiance to him, should the gods ever force their children to fight against one another. Someone who even Rachael could see that he had long admired.

Lying back down, raising his eyes to the stars, he said, “I did not feel for her as she did for me,” a simple summation for a complex time, and one which he prayed she would understand, and then leave it be. “And so we remained friends.”

And, well, he had thought, after the war, after the funeral games for those who had fallen in battle, once peace and serenity had returned to their borders… he had wondered. Perhaps he had even hoped.

Unfortunately, not four months later, he had gotten entangled with the Legion. By the time he made his way back to Chiron and the Hellenes , it appeared that Annabeth had grown to hate him even more strongly than she had when they had been children. For her, the Latins were an even more hateful enemy than the children of Poseidon; one could, apparently, be overcome, but both together? Unthinkable, in her eyes. And so these two, thrown together by circumstance, had been pulled apart, until the distance between them was so great, he had been sure that Annabeth had been lost to him forever, and had thus let her go.

Then, of course, the Fates had seen fit to bring them together again--though, for what purpose, he could not possibly imagine.

For a few minutes, there was silence between them, no sound save for the crackling of the fire, and the quiet movement of the waves.

Then, Annabeth said, “Hm.”

Percy turned his head towards her. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” With efficiency, she spread out the remains of their fire, so that it would burn itself out while they slept, and set about unrolling her own bedroll. “I was merely thinking that I would have won the pot, is all.”

Oh, he did not think he liked at all what she was implying. “The pot?”

She stilled, her bedroll unfurled halfway. “I’ve said too much.”

Unfortunately, she did not need to say much else. “The Stolls, I presume?”

Annabeth smiled at him, though it reminded him more of a pained grimace.

Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down.

“It was a very eventful summer,” she said. “You cannot blame them for attempting to lift our spirits with a little harmless fun.”

“Need I remind you that everyone was under the impression I would not survive the war?”

“And yet, here you remain.” A little ungracefully, she stretched out next to him, giving a great, massive yawn, and he turned towards her. “A gift for which the men of the Legion were very grateful, no doubt.”

His eyes widened. “How did you--”

She glanced at him with familiar contempt. “If you had lain with someone from the agoge ,” she said, as though she spoke to a simpleton, “everyone would have heard about it before breakfast the next morning.”

Ah, the children of Athena. Impeccable logic, as always.

“Very well,” said Percy, his cheeks heating up. “Since I have divulged such personal secrets, it is only fair that I am privy to some in return, no?”

Snorting, she turned over on her side, away from him. “I agreed to no such terms.”

“Come now, Annabeth,” he whined. “That’s not very sporting.”

In truth, he had spent many years wondering what sort of man had caught her fancy, after the likes of Lukas, whose appeal Percy understood all too well. He’d spent too many years in her orbit to not want to know what kind of a person could win her heart. Now that they had reestablished their acquaintanceship, would anyone blame him for mere curiosity?

“Give me a secret worth sharing, then.”

The moon, bright and beautiful, hung low in the sky. By the light of the fading fire, her hair shone like copper, her shawl settling around the curve of her shoulder, her hip, fabric folds like the stars of a constellation whose shape he had only just discovered. For one single, delirious second, he thought--he considered telling her the truth, a truth so deep and powerful, yet unknown to him until this very moment. The truth, that his youthful admiration had become his first love. The truth, that though it had faded alongside their friendship, it had never truly gone away. The truth that now, in this moment, as he lay next to her on their bed of grass and earth, it blazed with more passion than anything else he had ever known.

He swallowed.

“If you had asked me to, I would have followed you to the Morea,” he said, “and supported your claim to the throne.”

After a second, she rolled over to look at him. Her eyes were dark and piercing in the moonlight, her gaze enchanting and unreadable.

“Is that sufficient?”

He may as well have just come out and told her that he loved her. It felt like he was admitting the same thing.

Her mouth twisted, not quite a smile. “And they all claimed that you were no strategist,” she said.

That was… not the reaction he had expected from her. “How do you mean?”

“Ingratiating yourself to your future empress; very clever indeed, Perseus.”

“I am being sincere,” he said.

“And I do not doubt it. You would have pursued an action that you know would have resulted in a great reward, had we succeeded.”

Frowning, he lay down on his back, closing his eyes. “That is not why I would have done it.”

The silence stretched between them, long and empty. She must have fallen asleep, he thought. He could open his eyes and see for himself, but he stubbornly kept them shut. For whatever reason, he could not disturb the fragile space between them, every hard won inch, he knew, so easily shattered by a misspoken word or an imprecise countenance.

So softly, he thought he might have imagined it, he heard her say, “Clarice.”

Slowly, he turned to look at her.

She lay on her back as well, her gaze pointed squarely at the stars. The fire had nearly burnt out, but her skin and hair still shone in the moonlight.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“The first person I had relations with was with Clarice.”

He blinked. “Clarice.”

“Yes.”

“The daughter of Ares.”

“The very same.”

Of all the revelations he thought she might share, he had not been expecting that one. “You know I have to ask.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile. “She was stronger, but I was faster. Her hands, however--very big.”

Percy had seen Annabeth throw men twice her size across the arena. He had seen Clarice shatter shields with her magic spear. The thought of the two of them, together, in that manner, was…

He shifted, attempting to find a new and more comfortable position for his hips. “Athena and Ares,” he murmured, half in a daze. “Who would have thought?”

“And not just her--Yekaterina as well.”

“Really.”

“Mmhmm.” He could not see in the dim light, but he thought she might have been blushing again.

He chuckled to himself, smiling. As she knew him of old, he knew her, and he knew that she was not one to divulge such details so lightly. Despite his pride and his self-assurance, it was always a deep, deep comfort to know that there was someone else who enjoyed the company of men and women both. To think, despite all their differences, how similar they were in their fundamentals still.

“Thank you,” he said. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

And without much further ado, he turned over, and he went to sleep.

Immediately, he knew he was dreaming.

No longer in the shadow of the ancient stone wall, now he lay upon rich velvet rugs and brilliantly ornate pillows, woven with thread of gold and silver, the fabrics dyed deep blues and purples. All around him was the scent of saffron, mint, and honey. And the woman next to him… the woman next to him…

On the top of her golden head rests an equally golden crown, studded with precious gems of red and blue and green--the tiara of the Basileia , he knows it to be. She smiles at him with her silver eyes, her ruby lips and pearly teeth, lifting a delicate hand to him. Just below her ears, from which dangle a pair of lustrous, jeweled earrings, her hair comes down in two long, thick, even plaits, over her shoulders and her breasts, which Percy now realizes are bare. He and the mighty Roman Empress Ana Zabeta, for that is surely who she is, lay side by side, she entirely unclothed save for the crown on her head.

“My love,” she murmurs, trailing her fingers up his arm, “why do you hide yourself from me? Do you regret this time we have together?”

“No, my lady,” he finds himself replying, not in control of his actions in this fantasy. “Of course not.”

“Then come closer, phykios , and kiss me.”

And he would not refuse an order like that.

Her lips taste of wine and honey, her skin is smooth as marble. Acting on an instinct he did not know he possessed, he brings his hands to her small breasts, rolling a nipple under his thumb, and is rewarded with her ardent sigh, a deep, throaty moan which vibrates into his own mouth. Braver now, he crawls on top of her, and knows he has done the right thing by the smile which presses itself to his chin. Then he is the one who is kissing her neck, and he travels further down, a road map of her body, kissing every inch of her he can reach.

“Yes,” she whines, so sweetly, the further down he goes. He kisses the skin at her hips, squeezing the soft flesh of her ass, and she moans again, sweeter than any music. “Yes, Percy,” she cries as he brings his mouth above her center, pressing his nose into the beautiful golden curls there, and breathing deep. “Percy,” she groans, “Percy, Percy--”

“Mm?” He muttered, his face mashed into the dirt.

“Percy.”

He blinked, the cold sunlight streaming directly into his eyes, disorienting. “Wuh…”

“Wake up.”

Raising his head a little, he was greeted by the Annabeth more familiar to him, who was busy starting up their campfire, her curls thrown wildly by the morning wind. “You said that you wished to make repairs to the boat this morning, did you not?” she asked.

“Ahm--yes, I--let me just…” It came to his attention, suddenly, that he was quite erect, his cock pressing into his bedroll, and he was liable to try to make love to this cloth if he were left alone with his thoughts for a minute longer. “Let me… relieve myself. Yes.”

She grunted, entirely absorbed in her task. Thank the gods for the gift of half-blood focus, he thought.

With an odd sort of waddle, he made his way over to a small group of trees. When he was certain she could neither see nor hear him, he freed himself from his trousers, working quickly to bring himself to completion, among the sounds of morning birds, the scrape of his fingers on tree bark, his choked, bitten off groans as he fought for his silence.

It did not take him very long.

[pettyelves]

the man on fire

[boy on fire] [ vacationing ]

She had come home to a quiet house, kissed her children, and immediately gone to the bath. There she drifted in and out of sleep. By the time she caught wind of Kurel’s return home. It was too late. 

In the living room, Kurel had leveled a pistol at Silthas-- who had fallen asleep on the couch and gone undisturbed until the Admiral’s return.

"I explained this all to Eilithe already..."  Silthas paused, like he was hoping she'd come out of the shadows and help him, only to resume a moment later. "... I'm the son of Shadeala Moonsong. She... And my grandmother Morinthe, tricked me, manipulated me, forced me... Into coming here. I bear the scars of their abuse, of their attempt to mold me."

 Another long pause and he reached beneath the couch, slowly, quietly, to grab a box of Kul Tiran cigars and a bottle of fine bourbon. At some point he stashed a cutter and glasses, which he now tried setting on the coffee table, so he could open the bourbon and pour. "Want a drink? A smoke?"

Oh you sweet, foolish boy. 

"Kurel," Eilithe's voice came from the hall. She had come all the way down the hall, without a sound. Wrapped up in a black silk robe, her hands at her side. There were a dozen things she might've said, knowing that one of them might soothe him, while another might give him whatever he needed to pull the trigger.

"Remember Vol'Dun. When you almost stabbed me. It doesn't count if I'm not in control'.” She recited his own words when he'd almost ran her through while under Morinthe's strings.

When the gun lowered, Eilithe was filled falsely with a sense of security. "Pick up the box an' the bottle. Come with me,” Kurel commanded and turned for the door. Silthas obeyed.

She was just about to call her daughter from the shadows, knowing the girl was spying. It happened too fast. 

Kurel lifted his gun just enough to aim at Silthas’ thigh. The trigger pulled, the bang came loud. The door shut in the boy’s face. Upstairs, Karkah came barreling out of her room, bow drawn. Down the opposite hall Malik screamed, frightened. But none were louder than Eilonwy, who shimmered with arcane out of invisibility long enough to scream in horror with such force that the window rattled. In Tanari, she screamed, “Father, no! Stop! He is good! I saw him! He is good!” In a second, she was gone-- teleported out and into the world after the boy. 

"Well, surfal, at least you didn't shoot him in the head, right?" She stalked for the door. Not with her usual temper. It was more concern and a surprising amount of understanding. If Kurel had meant to kill the boy, he would have. She attempted to push by him and straight for the door to go out it. "Karkah, please go sit with your brother until Lady Mirin gets here. Everything is fine." “No’ yet.” 

Everything wasn’t fine. She stopped to mutter to Kurel, in bubbling rage, “I would think, that you of all people, would understand what it is like to bare the mark of your father. And if not for mercy-- then think of this as an opportunity. He knows where his mother is. How many men she has. What resources she has. It took balls and stupidity to tell you, stop to think what the fuck he stood to gain from telling you all that. A bullet. Apparently."

Their exchange was one of epic, petty proportion. Him storming out onto the porch to scream at her, her flinging a flower pot in his general direction. 

When she found Eilonwy and Silthas, she was still in the shadows-- watching as her daughter summoned thick ice around Silthas to protect him from her father’s lackeys. The girl, bold and brave, stood with her fists up against Kurel’s explosives expert. “Just leave us alone!” She screamed. 

For only a sturdy bandage meant for the boy, Perry backed off.

Eilonwy lowered her arms and was about to drop the barrier when she heard footsteps. When she saw it was Eilithe, still the girl kept her fists up. "Mai, leave us alone! He didn't do anything."

How important he must be to her, that she would raise her hands against her mother. "Drop the dome, Eilonwy. He needs to see a doctor. If you must, you can stay with him."  "Will I be safe there?" Silthas asked as Eilonwy melted the ice from around him.

In her ear, Kurel argued with her and she could tell by the proximity of the half of her soul residing inside if him. Each pushed it further, cutting deeper and deeper until Eilithe was the first to say something she would come to regret:  Go home, Kurel. Go home. Get a drink and a cigar and I will stay the fuck out of your way. I should have just let you leave again for another eight months and handled it like I always do when you decide there's nothing here for you.

"As long as I am alive, you have my word that I will put myself between you and harms way." There were tears in forming in her eyes, which likely were directly correlated to whatever Kurel was seething into her ear. "Come on, we have to move." 

After Silthas was treated and almost to sleep, Eilithe left to return home to a powder keg. And so, with a cigarette she awaited Kurel’s fury on the balcony which faced the harbor. "Helpin' the enemy now? Been ou' there a long while, did you dig ou' his bullet an' cauterize the hole? Then tuck'em in with a kiss on the head-- then leave my daughter ou' there with'em?" His head shifted as though barely affording a glance back over his shoulder towards her. He was paranoid as he was suspicious.  Wrapped in an anger that for the moment was bundled and controlled. "You shoul' know better." He sneered.  "Our daughter wouldn't leave that boys side if I demanded it. She is angry at both of us. I won't make her hate us." Eilithe stood firm on that for as long as it took for her to inhale on a joint. "They are not alone and yes. I instructed that he be mended." 

So then, she doubled down.

"No reason. No explanation. Nothing I say will be good enough for you right now. I could explain, in detail, how I know Morinthe is no longer with him. I could explain that I didn't just leave the children to chance. None of it will suffice, so I won't waste your time." Eilithe swallowed, her throat tense. 

"I wrote you. Because I need you here and I had hoped, by now, you were starting to need me too." Hurt and guilt showed only in that sentence, so she quickly covered it with another. "The more pressing matter is that Morinthe's soul is in two more pieces. They are far from here, but when Shadeala finds that her son is converted and that her plot is foiled? What do you think will happen?" "Wha' will happen. She will come righ' here. An' I'll shoo' her firs' an' then him second-- You shoul' have pu' him on a fuckin' boat an' sen' him FAR from this fuckin' place. Bu' instea', you're entertainin' this idiocy-- why? Because Eilonwy feels somethin' for him an' you don't want to break her hear'?" He turned, to face her. Arms crossing as he leaned his hip back against the guard rail. "Cause you can't stop yourself from takin' in ever stray an' straggler?”

"Where are they." It was not a request.

“You..said that, when you left. Gone until you could find a reason to come back. I shouldn't have said what I said." And that was as close as she got to admitting guilt.

Eilithe shook her head, "She will come here. Regardless. Not even herself. She will send lackeys and she will expend every resource. Because we took everything from her. And no, I can't bring myself to kill another child based solely on the blood in their veins. I cannot sentence him to death by my hand, yours, or by shipping him off. He is an asset, not a burden."

She shook her head, "Why? So you can go finish it? So you can get yourself barred from the home we built together?"

"Oh we didn't take everythin'-- Bu' now we have. Thanks to you. I can agree he's an asse'--- an' asse' to be used. Bait, to be used. A fuckin' carrot to dangle. One ain't gotta sentence him, jus' have to pu' him on a ship an' sail a fuckin' long ways ou' from here. An' a' the very leas' if Shadeala was goin' to be comin' here regardless, she'd be comin' for us." He gestured angrily between himself and her.

"Boy ain't even a fuckin' child-- He's practically grown, Eilithe! You talk like he can barely fen' for himself. An' if gettin' barred from this place is wha' it costs to keep you an' my children safe, then yes."

"He was a tool." Eilithe said, in calm tone that did not match the way that she shot up from her seat, clutching his shirt in her right hand. "He means nothing to her, less than nothing now that he failed." She took to stomps in his direction, but stopped herself in a good-old-fashioned Darnassian stand-off. "He is powerful and could help us. He can protect her too. She threatened to take Eilonwy many years ago now, Kurel. That was always a horrifying possibility. So put one more thing between our daughter and a woman that's willing to send a child to his death in order to bring me pain."

It was the last part that made her close the gap between them, two freezing hands place on his rough cheeks. "I need you,so please.. remember that day in the wheel when you told me you loved me and needed me too. Don't. Do this. Hate him. Distrust him. Shun him. If that it was you must do. But please. Don't do this."

Whatever went through his head, whatever paranoid scheme, he did not speak. Because if anything, he understood why she couldn’t bring herself to harm a child. "If he so much as missteps or if I think he missteps in my presence, I will aim higher an' I won't miss." He threatened. "An' wherever you have hidden them away-- Eilonwy is no' stayin'. She is to come home. Now or I will wake every dockhan' across this islan' an' have them join hands to comb this place until she is foun'. An' dragged back here. Willin' or not. She can hate me for i'. She is not grown an' she is no' ye' free of this house an' my command."

"She doesn't hate you. She won't. You are hard to hate. And she loves you--idolizes you." Shadows sucked Eilithe away from him and the distinct feeling of her soul moving away and into the night.

Eilonwy did return home that night, refusing to speak to either parent before she hid herself in her room to sob. After her mother had done the same, in a similar fashion, Eilonwy clutched the moon pendant on her bracelet. Until the door to her bedroom opened and her father’s footsteps fell against the wood floor.  "You will no' be alone with him. From now until I decide otherwise, when you leave this house a Warden or an operative of my choosin' will go with you. Every where. A' school. In Stormwin'. This islan'.”

"If you disobey this. I will pu' tha' boy on a ship. I will sail tha' ship to the edge of the Malestrom, where I will sink i'. With him on i'. If you think tha' you can ou'smar' me, the Wardens, or whoever I have pu' as your chaperone. An' evade them. I' will no' be they who suffer the consequence. It'll be the boy."

Eilonwy flinched, audibly at the tone that he rarely, if ever, took with her. She let out the softest of whimpers, before she balled up in the bed. The words that came out of her were pained and echoed the very same defeated tone that her mother held when all felt hopeless.

"Okay, Ah'vey," she said, just loud enough that he would hear her, before she buried her face in the pillow and bit back a spurt of silent weeping. @kurel-andiel​ @revthepunchbear​ (silthas) @deadsunharbor​

[sallyhasopinions]

Batman: Mystery of the Batwoman

Today I was trying to ease myself back into this whole process after skipping a day by choosing a shorter movie than average, the 2003 direct-to-video Batman: Mystery of the Batwoman. This was a mistake, as it took me in the neighborhood of four hours to watch it and take notes. This movie is an hour and fifteen minutes in length, but I take notes like I’m going to be tested later and I had to keep pausing to catch up. It’s animated and filled with superheroes, so the pacing was faster than I was prepared for.

Spoilers below; you’ve been warned.

I took fifteen pages of notes for this plot description.

Note - In the interest of relative brevity I am going to assume that readers have at least a passing familiarity with Batman.

The film opens on a seemingly innocuous car hauler and following car driving through the night before being intercepted by a mysterious Bat~woman~, who interferes with the disguised cargo, revealing it to be weaponry, and battles the men in both vehicles. This fight draws the attention of Batman and Robin, coincidentally cruising by in their jet, who interfere to save the lives of the truck drivers and make note of this mysterious woman who is totally jacking their brand.

As Bats stresses over who could possibly be behind the mask, the Penguin is visited by criminal colleagues Thorne and Duquesne, who break the news about the ruined shipment and the newest Bat on the block. The Batwoman also appears on the news, and Commissioner Gordon even questions Batman directly about who she is, though he has no information.

At Wayne Tech, Bruce sits through a presentation by clumsy employee Dr. Roxanne (Rocky) Ballantine, where she demonstrates a new alloy of “programmable” metal that can be made to take different shapes. Bruce invites her to dinner, but their evening is interrupted by the appearance of the Bat-Signal.

Commissioner Gordon, along with detectives Sonia Alcana and Bullock, have recovered the weapons destroyed in Batwoman’s battle and identified them as high-tech plasma rifles of unknown origin. Batman deduces from the distinctive keychain holding the truck’s keys that they have come from a business owned by the Penguin, Thorne, and Duquesne.

Investigating the shady business, Batman and Robin find Batwoman already there and causing trouble. The boys step in to help when she is surrounded by thugs, only to find out from her that she has rigged bombs in the rooms below them, and they all need to make their escape. As the building is destroyed, she explains that they were manufacturing weapons for illegal export. Batman demands to know who she is, but she tells him he’ll have to figure it out himself and escapes. He tracks her to Duquesne’s home, where he gets into a tussle with some bodyguards and Duquesne himself demands that Batman leave his property.

Now suspecting Duquesne’s daughter Kathy to be the Batwoman, Bruce and Alfred spend the next day tailing her as she goes on a shopping spree. She incidentally recruits Bruce to help her escape her bodyguards in a shopping center, and he agrees. The two of them speed off in her car and she tells him about herself, her mother, and how she blames her father for her mother’s death before they are located by her bodyguards and she agrees to go home.

Batman immediately passes on his suspicions about Kathy and her potential motive of revenge for her mother’s death to Commissioner Gordon, Sonia, and Bullock, and shares the information regarding the Penguin’s illicit weapons factory. The police put a tail on Kathy while Bruce researches her on his own.

Batwoman breaks into Thorne’s office to photograph evidence from his files as Thorne and the Penguin decide their next steps in completing their arms deal in light of the destruction of their factory. She is discovered, but escapes after a scuffle with the men. Later, Kathy overhears her father Duquesne raging as he discovers that the Penguin, with Thorne’s support, has called in additional help to complete the deal.

At Wayne Tech, Rocky shows Robin how to reach a game’s bonus level. Bruce reminds him that Alfred is waiting for him. Rocky tells Bruce she has been working late, but their casual chat is interrupted by the arrival of Kathy Duquesne, who has dressed up and come to ask Bruce out that evening.

Sonia and Bullock follow Kathy and Bruce to the Iceberg Lounge, a club owned by the Penguin and filled with Duquesne’s associates. They are greeted warmly by the Penguin himself. Bruce asks Kathy about her intentions in bringing him to a place full of her father’s associates that are sure to report to him, and she takes offense to his tone and excuses herself from their table. Meanwhile, the Penguin takes a telephone call from his new associate, who has agreed to assist with their arms deal and will meet him at the club shortly. Batwoman, lurking in the shadows of the Penguin’s office, is spotted as he completes his phone call. She restrains him with a metallic device and begins questioning him about his new associate, but the Penguin manages to push a panic button under his desk, causing two of his lackeys to come to his aid just as he reveals that it is Bane who will be helping to facilitate the arms deal.

The fight that ensues sends Batwoman through the office wall and crashing onto the club’s dance floor, causing immediate chaos and confusion. Sonia and Bullock outside the club call for backup as patrons flee the continuing battle. Just as the Penguin has Batwoman cornered, Batman swoops in to prevent him from shooting her. Batwoman is able to escape and as she flies away, Batman sees that Kathy is standing in a nearby doorway - she cannot have been Batwoman. Distracted by this revelation, Batman is caught off-guard by a chair to the back and is knocked into the pool at the center of the club. The Penguin starts shooting into the water as Batman sets up an underwater explosive to destroy the pool and serve as a distraction to allow him to slip away. 

Bruce escorts Kathy safely home, where they exchange apologies about the evening at the door. They nearly kiss, but are interrupted when one of the bodyguards enters and tells her that Duquesne is looking for her. Kathy leaves with the bodyguard once again. 

Batman and Sonia discuss the information they’ve uncovered at the lounge. Sonia points out that Kathy must not be Batwoman as they were seen at the lounge at the same time. Bruce provides Sonia with a piece of the restraining device that Batwoman had used on the Penguin as a piece of potential evidence. Sonia intimates that Batman saved her life nine years prior, during an arson fire set by Thorne’s lackeys, and that this incident is what led to her becoming a detective. Working in the batcave, Bruce identifies the material used in Batwoman’s restraining device as the same programmable alloy that Rocky was working with at Wayne Tech.

Rocky goes to prison visitation to see her boyfriend Kevin, who has been serving the past four years after being convicted of a crime actually committed by the Penguin. She tells him she is trying to get someone who works for the Penguin to talk, and Kevin expresses his displeasure that she is putting herself in danger by spying on known criminals. Kevin breaks up with her, telling her not to waste her time when it will be another five years before he will even be eligible for parole. She returns home and finds Batman waiting for her. He accuses her of being Batwoman, explaining he is aware that her boyfriend was framed and that he has found her more advanced designs for her alloy on her home computer. Rocky denies that she has done anything illegal, and Batman warns her about the dangers of continued vigilantism as Batwoman.

Thorne and the Penguin meet up with Duquesne to go meet with their new associate, tailed by Batwoman. After discussing the terms of their agreement, Bane and the Penguin go over their plans to transport the weapons that night, sailing them out to international waters onboard a luxury cruise ship. Batwoman listens in.

Batman abruptly realizes that he knew Rocky’s whereabouts during one of the previous Batwoman sightings, thus she cannot have been Batwoman either. Alfred passively remarks that she can’t be in two places at once unless she has the power to duplicate herself, causing Batman to consider that Kathy and Rocky could both be using the Batwoman persona. He asks Robin to investigate any possible link between the two women and goes to search for further evidence himself.

Batwoman returns to her secret lair with the details of the criminals’ plans in hand. Rocky appears from the shadows and says that Batman is onto her and will surely ruin their plans. As she worries, Kathy also enters the scene and agrees with her that Batman has been catching on too quickly. Batwoman points out that he thought Kathy was Batwoman only two days before and was now accusing Rocky, so he would probably move on to suspecting someone else soon. Removing her mask, Batwoman - revealed to be Sonia - assures them that she would know about it if he had any new theories. They are too close to success to quit now, and just have to stop the shipment tonight.

Batman breaks into Kathy’s room and begins searching for evidence that might tie her to Rocky or the Batwoman persona. As he stands in her art studio, flipping through her sketchbook, Robin contacts him to report that he has found no connection between them. Batman, however, recognizes one of the sketches, and tells Robin that the two women just needed someone to introduce them.

Kathy and Sonia review their plans to infiltrate the cruise ship carrying the weapons. Rocky provides Kathy with a bomb to destroy the weapons onboard, and Kathy sets out as Batwoman to disrupt the shipment. She boards just as the ship is leaving the harbor and successfully reaches the weapons cache, but as she is preparing to set the explosive she is suddenly attacked by Bane.

Thorne, the Penguin, and Duquesne are waiting for word of their success when the telephone rings. Bane has called them to report that he has captured the Batwoman and is waiting for them in the harbor. The three men hurry to leave.

Sonia is watching the ship from a rooftop when Batman joins her and accuses her of knowing Kathy. He shows her the drawing from Kathy’s sketchbook - a younger Sonia - and says that the two of them took art classes together. He then accuses that she also knows Rocky, Sonia attempts to deny this, but Batman knows that they were roommates as college freshmen. He continues his accusations by identifying her as the mastermind of their Batwoman scheme. Sonia, obligingly, delivers her Motive Rant about her desire to get revenge on Thorne for having ruined her parents’ business with his arson fire. As they stand in a moment of tension, Sonia’s phone rings. Rocky has called to report that something has gone terribly wrong with their plan, and asks Sonia what they are going to do.

The Penguin, Thorn, and Duquesne take a speedboat to rendezvous with the cruise ship in the harbor. Unknown to them, Batman and Robin follow via submarine. Onboard the cruise ship, the trio meet with Bane, who has captured Batwoman. Bane explains that he called them once he figured out who she was, and removes Batwoman’s mask, revealing Kathy to her father and his associates. Thorne and the Penguin immediately accuse Duquesne of duplicity, while Bane shows them the bomb she intended to plant onboard.

Duquesne and Kathy argue bitterly about their mutual feelings of betrayal. The Penguin realizes that he also saw Kathy and Batwoman at the club at the same time, and thus she must have accomplices. He threatens her with toxic gases, much to the dismay of Duquesne. Bane restrains Duquesne while the Penguin continues interrogating her, only to be interrupted once again by the arrival of Batman, who disarms Thorne and begins to battle Bane. Kathy, her hands cuffed behind her back, manages to kick the Penguin away and get her shackled hands in front of her before Batman grabs her mid-Tarzan Swing. They flee as Thorne shoots one of the plasma rifles at them, causing large amounts of destruction.

Bane contacts the crew to have them begin sailing out towards international waters as quickly as possible. Robin tails the cruise ship in the submarine, while in-costume Rocky and Sonia fly in, awaiting a signal from Batman. Thorne and Duquesne argue, while the Penguin notices that the bomb is missing, causing Bane to threaten Duquesne. Batman and Kathy have escaped to an engine room, where he removes her handcuffs and informs her that her friends are here to rescue her. Kathy plants the bomb, warning him that it can’t be removed without detonating and they now have two minutes before the explosion.

Thorne and the Penguin retreat to the speedboat, where they are spotted by the other Batwomen, who disarm them and demand to know Kathy’s location. Kathy and Batman escape to an outer pool deck, only to discover a chained and beaten Duquesne being swung above the pool by Bane. Bane tosses Duquesne into the pool, and Kathy dives in after him while Batman meets Bane. Underwater, Kathy attempts to unchain her father while Batman and Bane fight. When Bane is knocked from the higher deck of the ship while tangled in his own chain, Duquesne and Kathy are both rapidly pulled out of the water. Batman manages to ensure that they are on the deck before the bomb detonates, knocking him off the higher deck.

There are several inexplicable explosions that follow the bomb blast. Fire rapidly overtakes the weapon stores, which leads to another, larger explosion. The crew abandons ship. Rocky is seen flying with her cape and cowl on fire, which she removes. Sonia has been knocked into the water by the blast. Rocky swims to rescue her, but the Penguin spots her from the speedboat and attempts to run them over. Robin deflects the speedboat with the submarine, and takes Sonia aboard, leaving Rocky free to pursue the speedboat.

Bane and Batman continue their battle, which Batman, outmatched and injured, attempts to flee. Kathy is dangling by her cape from a piece of debris over a crater in the damaged ship. Duquesne looks over the ledge above her, sees her in this predicament, and crawls away. Her cape begins tearing, and she struggles to hold onto it, until a life ring is thrown down. Kathy grabs onto the life ring and Duquesne hauls her up to safety.

Thorne and the Penguin lament the sinking ship as they depart on the speedboat, commenting that at least it will take some Bats with it as it sinks. Rocky suddenly grapples onto the back of their boat from her rocket glider. Thorne attempts to shoot her down, but she uses the cable to entangle a buoy, which jerks the speedboat to a sudden stop and throws Thorne and the Penguin into the harbor.

Batman and Bane continue to fight, with Batman deploying a restraint device much like the one previously used on the Penguin by Batwoman. This manages to incapacitate Bane long enough that Batman can grapple himself away just before the ship strikes a bridge and runs aground. The impact causes Bane to fall into a pit of fire that is entirely without context. Batman dangles from his grappling device attached to the bridge, injured by Bane and struggling to hold on. Sonia, on her own rocket glider, manages to rescue him before he falls into the flaming debris below. Rocky and Sonia, Batman in tow, both confirm that Kathy and Duquesne are secure on another boat. Firefighters attempt to extinguish the blazing wreck as Commissioner Gordon and Detective Bullock observe the scene from a police boat. Sonia, unmasked, flies over to them to deliver the injured Batman to Commissioner Gordon.

At police headquarters, Sonia packs up her desk. Batman appears and expresses his belief that the city is losing a good cop with her exit. She reminds him that she is lucky she is not being prosecuted for her actions. Batman gives her an envelope, which he explains contains exculpatory evidence that will allow Rocky’s boyfriend Kevin to be released, and leaves.

Rocky and Kathy loiter outside the prison. Kathy explains that she used to hate her father, but now feels sorry for him since he’s been locked up. She inquires about Bruce, who she says has not been in contact with her since their disastrous date. The pair are interrupted by Kevin, freshly released. He and Rocky embrace, apparently no longer broken up. Kathy leaves them, only to find Bruce leaning against her car, waiting for her. The two of them drive off together as the credits music begins.

Do I even have the energy to review this?

It’s now been seven hours since I started watching this movie, which I was neither over- nor underwhelmed by. Consider me demiwhelmed maybe. The scene at the Iceberg Lounge includes an inexplicable pop song called Betcha Never which is performed by a cartoon cameo of the actual artist, Cherie, who was not to my knowledge even remotely recognizable or notable to the target audience of animated Batman films at the time. Overall it has not aged super well. 

The Metrics:

Bechdel Test: Failed. The three women don’t get a ton of screen time together, and when they do, they are exclusively talking about men.

Mako Mori Test: Failed. Each of these women is motivated solely by a desire to act against men who have wronged them, and do so whilst partially usurping the identity of another man. One of them is acting against a man who wronged another man and not herself.

Representation, etc:

For a movie that’s nominally about three women it’s kind of a shitshow in how it perceives and portrays women, even aside from the issues of their motivations mentioned above. Kathy is a major victim of this in particular.

Early on in the film, Alfred makes a reference to the Rudyard Kipling poem The Female of the Species. This is a fairly common cultural reference, but a sexist poem espousing sexist views. 

Kathy Duquesne is shown to be an avid and frivolous shopping enthusiast. At one point, while shopping, she says “Worst thing that could happen is I’ll need a size eight,” which is one of the most disturbingly open instances of body-shaming I’ve ever heard in media meant for CHILDREN.

Kathy is catcalled repeatedly by men who are presumably associates of her FATHER at the Iceberg Lounge, and this is not treated as harmful or even particularly bothersome to her.

Kathy’s father literally raises his hand to backhand her and tells her to shut up after she has been unmasked. This is, again, children’s media.

Bruce receives a brief call from Barbara Gordon in which she behaves jealously about the idea of a Batwoman and is openly flirtatious with him. Bruce appears to be in his 30s, Barbara is away at college and presumably no older than 21. Bruce gets out of this conversation by rustling papers and pretending his cell signal is breaking up.

All three female characters have essentially identical body models and extremely similar facial features. It would be extremely difficult to tell them apart if they weren’t designed as a white/black/latina trio.

When Rocky rescues Sonia who is at risk of drowning in the harbor, the way they are drawn and physically interact seems very much a creation by and for the male gaze. They also somehow manage to float in the water at about lower ribcage level, keeping those breasts well above the surface in clear defiance of the laws of physics.

There’s a ~fun~ little nugget of homophobia at one point when Rocky and Bruce are chatting. Rocky mentions that she is working late, but her boyfriend is very understanding. She then asks, “what about yours?” Before Bruce even reacts, she panics and corrects herself, clarifying that she meant girlfriend. Bruce, to his credit, responds that he doesn’t have anybody special.

Final Scores: 

Deaths: Batman doesn’t like killing people, so probably none. Bane did fall in that weird pit of flames though.

Smooches: None. Nearly one, interrupted.

Sex: None; this is for kids.

Substance Use/Abuse: Nope.

Violence: Moderate to heavy by kids standards, but I’d say about average for the superhero genre.

Profanity: None. 

Watch with Kids: I have real problems with the way women are portrayed in this and I probably wouldn’t let a child watch it.

Watch with Parents: Nothing in here is NSFP.

Sally Says: This is probably for DCAU/Batman fans only. Y’all, it’s been over nine hours since I started watching this freaking movie. It’s technically tomorrow for me now.

[greyvvardenfell]

Fictober Day 15 // “Yes, I'm aware. Your point?” // The Arcana (Portia Devorak x Nahara Satrinava) // Rating: G (no warnings) // 1879 words

——————————————————————————————

The chamberlain bustled into the dining room, their feathered hat bobbing as they turned from side to side. Catching sight of the flash of red hair they sought, they hurried to intercept Portia before she disappeared into the kitchen again. 

"Miss Portia!"

She startled at the sound of her name, her mind clearly elsewhere. The rapidly approaching Masquerade had everyone thinking of things other than their work, not to mention the to-do with the Doctor and his poorly-concealed love affair with the very magician the Countess had hired to pursue him… not that the palace staff were supposed to know about that. And now the Countess's siblings were already arriving, three of her sisters having sailed into Vesuvia's harbor barely half an hour ago. They would be in need of the finest welcoming party the city had to offer.

"Miss Portia, Lady Satrinava's sisters will be needing an escort up to the palace, and—"

Portia's eyes widened. "They're here? Already?!"

The chamberlain spread their hands in an automatic gesture of supplication. "My sincerest apologies for tearing you away from your duties, of course, but—"

"Who came?" 

"I beg your pardon?"

"Who was on the boat?" Portia put the tray she had been holding down with a muffled crash and grabbed the chamberlain by the shoulders. "Please, I gotta know!"

"Oh dear, ahm. Their Royal Highnesses, Princesses Nasmira, Navra, and Nahara."

She squeezed her eyes shut and sagged against their diminutive form. They could almost hear her heart skip a beat. "Oh god," she breathed, her voice strained. "I'm not ready."

------

Three sets of finely-crafted shoes struck the salt-crusted boards of the Vesuvian docks, one after the other. Portia hovered in the shadow of the carriage sent to collect them, wringing her hands at the sight of the swinging blonde braid bringing up the rear of the column. Two years had passed since she and Nahara bonded on their journey to the city, but she hadn't forgotten a moment of their time together: first sparring, then talking, laughing, watching striped spinning porpoises keep pace with the ship, singing along with Mazelinka's crew when they hurled their pirate shanties against the waves, and finally, the single kiss they shared within sight of Vesuvia's skyline with a promise that it wouldn't be the last. And when they reached shore and went their separate ways, despite the reference Nahara had given that led her to find work at the palace, she had heard nothing more.

But those beautiful golden eyes caught hers as soon as the princess and her sisters stepped from the dock onto the paving stones, and Portia felt herself fall into them like not a single moment had passed. 

"You must be Portia! How wonderful to meet you." The shortest of the three, clad in a salmon-colored pashmina over flowing trousers with hip-length emerald hair, smiled gently. 

Trained by years of service, Portia stepped forward and returned the grin before she finished processing the words. "Oh! Oh, yes! Um…" With another lingering glance at Nahara, she forced herself into the role of ambassador. "Yes, and you're Princess Nasmira Satrinava! And Princesses Navra and—" she hesitated minutely "—Nahara Satrinava as well. Welcome to Vesuvia! Your sister Countess Nadia sends her kindest regards and deepest sympathies for not being here to meet you in person. There was a… a situation. That needed seeing to."

Navra and Nasmira exchanged looks. "I'm sure Dia is doing her best," Nasmira said, joining her hands over her plump stomach. "She always has."

"And the Masquerade is such a huge undertaking!" Navra's many bangles jingled as she swept her arms open.

"Nadia is an intelligent woman, known for making good decisions." Ice flowed down Portia's throat and pooled in her lungs at the sound of Nahara's deep, raspy voice, turning to fire when she directed her molten gaze over her again.

She had to speak. "Oh, yeah. Milady's on top of it. She's got things so covered, it's almost like we servants don't have anything to do!"

Three pairs of raised eyebrows met her words and Portia felt blood rise to her cheeks. "I-I mean…"

"If that is the case," Nahara interjected, "Then perhaps you wouldn't mind showing some curious travelers the Vesuvian sights?"

Before Portia could leap at the chance, Nasmira clicked her tongue. "Oh, Hara, certainly not. We should clean ourselves up first, at the very least. It wouldn't do to see the city while we look so unkempt."

All three of them looked impeccable to Portia. There wasn't a hair or thread out of place, despite their long journey. 

Nahara scoffed, seeming to agree. "I will decide for myself when to bathe, Mira. I am not a child."

"Well I, for one, would welcome a nice, cool soak. It's so much drier here than in Prakra, don't you think?" Navra placed her hand on her sister's shoulder, urging her towards the waiting carriage. "Come, then, Mira. We can see the sights tomorrow, perhaps. Can't we, Portia?"

Portia looked rapidly from sibling to sibling, hope and distress building in the clench of her shoulders as she fully realized the implication of their discussion: she would be alone with Nahara. Nahara had engineered time alone with her. "Of course!" Too brightly, too quickly, she skipped to the door and swung it open. "I'm always happy to show people around." 

Navra had a wide, beaming smile, quite unlike that of her older sister. She shot it over her shoulder as she ushered Nasmira up the folding steps into the carriage, blocking the doorway when she reached the top. "Excellent! We hope to see you back in time for supper, then, my dears. Have a most marvelous time!" 

Portia could have sworn she saw her wink at Nahara before ducking inside the carriage in a whirl of orange and blue. The coachman, at a nod from Portia, urged the paired golden horses into motion and pulled away up the long, curved street leading to the palace. She waved them off, the clatter of hooves and wheels fading into the distance as her awareness of Nahara's breathing and heat and scent and presence grew to almost unbearable heights.

"Come with me."

The gentle rasp spoke close to her ear, so often a feature of Portia's many dreams. She felt almost compelled to obey. "Okay."

Nahara led the way through the twisting, crowded streets of the dock district, dodging merchants overseeing their freight and sailors spending their precious off-hours betting their pay on card games and knife-throwing contests. They soon reached a relatively pleasant stand of trees, cut off from the din of workers and gambling by several sharp turns along narrow alleyways, and Nahara stopped abruptly, her muscular brown back straight as an arrow.

"Portia."

The sound of her name in that voice was sweeter than honeysuckle. "Hara. I didn't think you would…"

She turned her head sharply, catching Portia in her peripheral glare. "That I would return here? To support my sister? To—" Nahara faltered, if only for a moment. "To see you again?"

"I just didn't know!" Portia took a step forward, holding out her hands in supplication. "I never heard from you. The only news I got was from the Countess, and that was so rare—"

"It was more than I ever heard of you," said Nahara dryly. Still standing fiercely upright with her back turned, she folded her arms across her chest. "There are not many travelling to Prakra who bring word of Vesuvian servants."

Realization crashed down on Portia with the weight of the sea itself. "Oh," she said, the word barely above a whisper. "Oh, Hara, I'm so sorry! I… I wanted to write, or something, but I just. I just, uh."

"What could have stopped you from writing to me? Please, I insist."

She hung her head, familiar shame creeping down her spine. "I couldn't read or write until last year. Milady, uh, your sister Nadia, she taught me."

Long silence met her confession before Nahara turned around, the lines on her face softened by understanding. "I had hoped you remembered me," she said quietly, her eyes downcast for the first time.

"Of course I did!" Portia barely held herself back from launching into her arms. "Hara… I haven't been with anyone, or even looked at anyone else since we…"

"No, nor have I." 

"I think about you so much!"

Nahara nodded. "Every clear evening I find myself looking up into the sky and recalling the nights we spent on the decks of your grandmother's ship, doing just the same."

Portia bit her lip, edging closer with her hands clasped tight behind her back to keep herself from reaching out. "And frying fish on top of the forecastle with the ruddersman?"

"Indeed! What was his name?"

"Jopani." Portia giggled. "He and Maz still get together for cook-offs once a month or so." 

"Your Mazelinka cannot admit when she has been bested, can she?"

Portia dropped her jaw in exaggerated outrage, slapping her hands to her cheeks. "You take that back!"

A cheeky glint flashed through Nahara's eyes and she leaned back against the nearest tree. "I would never lie to you." She offered a small, warm smile. "A Neviv pirate, no matter how respectable and strong she may be, will never out-cook a Prakran fisherman."

"Fisherman-turned-pirate."

"It is the country of origin, not the career choice, to which I give credit."

Portia took another step in Nahara's direction, conscious of the way those stunning golden eyes swept over her from head to toe when she moved. "You got something against Nevivon?"

"Make no mistake," Nahara said, crossing one ankle over the other as she rested against the tall palm. "I have nothing but the utmost respect for Mazelinka. And… and the other Neviv women I've met."

Her blush crawled up her ears and down onto her chest, staining her pale skin a pretty pink. "They have a hell of a lot of respect for Prakran women, too."

Nahara's own face grew red and she coughed and looked away to hide it. "Let us not toy with each other any longer, Portia," she said after she regained her composure. "I… I think it clear that the feelings we seeded on the crossing have, have…"

"I still like you!" Portia blurted out. "I still want to be with you, and I'm so, so sorry I didn't say that sooner."

Nahara held out her hand, willing Portia to take it. When she did, she reeled her in against her chest, pulling her off-balance to fall along her body, supported by the tree behind them. Portia gasped at the sudden contact and peered up into her eyes, fingers seeking grips on Nahara's well-muscled arms before coming to rest on her waist. 

"As am I," Nahara murmured. "These years have been long and lonely without you, kitten."

Portia shuddered in delight and, with another quick bite to the inside of her cheek, pushed herself onto her tiptoes to deliver a sound kiss against Nahara's full lips. When she tried to break away, she found that strong hands were already holding her in place. Whatever other ideas had been in her head no longer seemed to matter, kneaded to nothing by the return of a lover's touch.

[theworldwithoutmagic]

The Lost Waterbender - Ch 3 - “Don’t Run Into Fire”

The Fire Nation celebrated its victory over the Avatar cycle when they killed the very last Waterbender. With no host to be reborn into, the Avatar cycle ended.

Until 100 years later, when Elsa found that Ahtohallen was more than just memories.

Elsa must now master all 4 elements and the Avatar state if she ever wants to see Arendelle again.

Rating - Soft M

Ao3 Link

Yall know why Im writing this. Elsa is clearly the Avatar after F2! This is going to be eventually femslash. I hope you guys like this chapter!

Aang and Sokka to the rescue. Heh.

Elsa only made it an hour before she noticed a ship in distance. She nearly fell through her own ice in relief. She had felt confident until she started to walk. She wasn't even sure she was still in the Dark Sea at this point. Things were... odd. A ship would at least have navigation equipment, knowledge of the surrounding seas, and could actually help her get home.

She was so happy to see the ship she almost missed the smoke. A pillar of dark smoke rose in the air above the ship, which as she got closer she could now see was massive, black, and seemingly made of metal. She had heard of nothing like this from the castle advisors and she was certain no ships of this build ever visited Arendelle's port. It was even coming right towards her now. She didn't want to assume the worst, but the appearance of the ship put caution into her approach. She considered leaving it alone since it was unlikely to have ever visited Arendelle if she was so unfamiliar with it. And it was rather foreboding, all harsh angles and belching fire.

She deliberated for a while, weighing her options. Ultimately, she decided she would still approach them. She was the Snow Queen and she could protect herself from whatever threat they may pose even if they prove to be hostile in the worst-case scenario. Pirates or a foreign enemy included. Arendelle was famous in this region even before the eternal winter incident and the chances of them knowing of its location or at least the general direction was high. Hopefully they could clear up where she is now, if nothing else.

When it got close enough, she could see people on board in striking red armor. The flame insignia flag it flew was wholly unfamiliar to her. A flick of her wrist and the ice she stood on solidified into a larger, starburst platform. There could be no mistaking who they would be dealing with if they knew anything about this region at all. The Queen of Arendelle was quite intimidating when she wanted to be and had a reputation. The ship was slowing in front of her.

Elsa chose to speak first as soon as they were within earshot. "I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle. I would like to speak to the captain of this ship." She stood tall, her voice ringing out over the ice. She could see the people on the ship squinting down at her with wary expressions. They didn't react to her title except to mutter amongst themselves.

Eventually, a man called out, "We would be delighted to receive you, your ah, majesty. We will send a boat."

"No need." She stepped forward, an icy bridge forming to the deck of the ship. The shocked gasps of the crew weren't unexpected. She only hoped they wouldn't react violently. If so, would leave the same way and escape if things did not go well. Elsa tried to tell herself not to be so paranoid, this was just covering all her options. It was only the smart thing to do. She had lost her head when the spirit called her and she refused to let it happen again.

When her feet touched the deck, she let the bridge dissolve behind her. The crew had schooled their expressions. They were obviously trained soldiers now that she could see them clearly. This was a warship. With a very distinctly flame motif. Elsa narrowed her eyes.

"What kingdom are you from?" She began, noticing the metal ship lacked even a sail to propel itself.

"The real question is where have you been hiding, waterbender?" A man in a more decorated suit of armor said from across the deck. One look at his shining metal hairpiece and medals adorning his uniform indicated this was the captain. Or at least someone in charge.

Waterbender is what he called her. She knew that term only because of the spirit in the glacier and she was shocked to hear it from the captain. She steeled herself. "I am the reagent of Arendelle. Located on the southern fjords. Perhaps you know of me as the Snow Queen."

The captain's lips were tight as he considered her. His arms crossed. "Arendelle." He tasted the word. "And how many other waterbenders are you harboring, Queen Elsa?" His mouth tugged into a smile as he used her title. Elsa didn't like it.

"If you are referring to my ice, I am the only one I have ever met with this ability." Elsa swallowed. "What kingdom are you from, Captain? I didn't catch it the first time." She felt she might need the escape plan after all. The hostility was overwhelming.

"This ship, like all others, is from the Fire Nation," he said as if that explained everything. He was pacing around her. "I have one more question for you. Where is the Avatar?"

Elsa couldn't stop her eyes from widening. This was too much to be a coincidence. The captain was grinning widely in front of her now, watching her expression. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." She saw him glance over her shoulder and nod infinitesimally to someone. She made to turn back to the railing but was blocked by a ring of soldiers.

"Unfortunately, I can't let you leave," the captain said behind her. "I am under orders directly from the Fire Lord to detain all waterbenders and bring them to him. Especially those I suspect to be the avatar. Bind her."

Elsa didn't wait for the soldiers to move. A quick wave of her hand brought up a thick wall of ice between herself and the soldiers, and swept the five closest to the railing to the side, clearing the path for her easy escape.

"Don't let her off this ship! This has to be the avatar! We need to get her quickly before she can access the avatar state." She heard someone shouting. The men were lining up.

Then, her world changed.

Jets of yellow fire, hot and directed, blasted her ice away in an instant and blocked her escape route. Elsa traced the stream with her eyes and saw it was being produced from the hands of every soldier on the deck. Fire magic. All of them. It was almost a relief to see other people like her, and Elsa felt frozen. Her entire life she had been the only one. But everyone on this ship... they have fire. Then, the first hot jet caught her in the side and she cried out, trance broken. These people were attacking her. She was outnumbered 100 to 1. She could actually lose.

Elsa whipped into action. The air dropped 40 degrees. Ice covered the feet of every man she could see. She raised her hands and great icy beams gripped the sides of the ship, sending its nose into the air to knock the remaining soldiers off-balance, including the Captain who had somehow already melted his feet free. It didn't work, and they moved fluidly into a martial arts stance she had only seen in paintings from far away before more fire shot from their hands directly towards her.

Her heart lurched. She had only a second to raise an ice wall, feeling like she was back in front of Han's men in her castle. The fire broke through her ice again. It was seemingly explosive in its destruction. She shot a beam towards the captain, hoping to pin him to the deck. He lept to the side like a dancer and dodged easily, sending more fire spinning from his feet this time. Elsa backed up squinting against the heat, throwing more walls up to protect her front. That's when she felt someone grab her from behind.

She was panicking enough that it had begun to snow over the ship, frost creeping over the deck. But the fire users behind her seemed to produce their own heat and had wrested her hands behind her. Their hot touch burned her arms and she was rapidly overpowered. She cried out and tried to pull away, but there were at least three holding her now, keeping her hands immobilized. They had shackles and were just about to click them onto her when a blast of wind knocked them off balance for a moment, and one released their grip on a hand.

She didn't waste a moment and encased them in ice up their chests this time. She made a break for the railing. More men blocked her. Before she could even call her ice, they were swept completely off the side of the ship by another powerful gust of wind.

This time, Elsa saw the source. A young man, a teenager even, covered in blue arrow tattoos was whipping up a windstorm on the deck. He blocked their fire easily with concentrated gusts of unnatural wind that could only be more magic. He was barely touching the ground between each blast. He caught her eyes after he forced another few men over the side with a spin of his staff.

"Avatar! I'm here to help! Just- Iv been looking for you." He was working his way towards her. "I can explain after we get off this ship. I can get you away from the firebenders. You have to trust me."

She pulled more ice up to grip the ship, hearing the metal groan. "Thanks for the rescue." she ground out, "but I just want to get home."

"I have a flying bison! I can take you there, anywhere. Please, just come with me." He was nearly at her side, face all earnest concentration. The whole deck was covered in ice and the captain still stood shooting flames. She was ready to dispute the boy's outlandish claim when a great roar came from above. A shaggy, six-legged creature ridden by a tan-skinned man in a ponytail came from the sky. It had a saddle like a common beast and swept from the sky to hover over the battle. Great balls of fire from the upper deck were already being directed towards it. Elsa forced another swath of ice towards the men firing them.

She was now near enough to the railing now that she could jump into the ocean below and escape. The ice gripping the ship would keep them there long enough she could get a head start. Elsa considered leaving all of them behind. But she realized she still wasn't sure precisely which direction Arendelle was in. The sun was still up and she had little frame of reference. And well.. this kid had risked his own life to free her. Watching him fight the man in front of her she noticed his face was earnest and his strikes were all non-lethal deflections. That decided it for her, in the end.

"Alright, let's go." At the end of the day, he was acting friendly towards her. She had no reason to distrust him and he had a rather convenient method of transportation. Elsa had a horrible feeling she was not anywhere near Arendelle anymore and she wanted desperately to speak to another person, especially another magic user, who knew about this avatar business.

He grinned ear to ear, finally reaching her side. "Hold on!" He grabbed her hand and put one arm around her waist and then a tight blast of air shot them both skyward. She yelped in a very undignified way and had only a moment to feel the weightlessness before they both landed in the saddle of the beast.

"Sokka, get us out of here," the boy called.

"Holy shit Aang you actually got her! And look at this fire nation ship, that's a LOT of ice, they won't be moving for a while." Sokka said. The flying bison rapidly gained altitude, zig-zagging through the sky above the ship. She could still see the ship, completely lifted from the water by her massive pillars. The water surrounding the ship was frozen entirely for a hundred paces out. She allowed herself to feel a bit of pride.

"I know!" The boy cut him off, deflecting another fireball. "It was close. They had her nearly in cuffs." They were already so high the attacks were sparse. She thinks they were almost out of range.

"Well, at least the monks won't kill us now. They can't punish us if we bring them the avatar."

Elsa's mind finally caught up with what they were talking about. "I am not going anywhere except Arendelle. You will take me there, not to any monks." She interjected, with as much queenly majesty as was possible sitting cross-legged in the saddle of the beast. "And will someone please explain this Avatar business to me?"

[phael-the-trash-bin]

Phäel’s character backstory, as approved by our DM:

Phäel was born the second youngest of 7 children to a human mother, Francis Vermir, and an elven father, Gailier Neer, in the village of Hilthron in the northern region of Gadra. Phäel never got to know his father after he abandoned the family when Phäel was only 3. His mother suffered a breakdown when Gailier left, and was distant as the siblings grew up, finally leaving her children when the oldest, Mikhäl, turned 18, and Phäel was only 10. In a fit of anger over the loss of their mother and the strict ruling of their oldest sister, Phäel and his brother Larceir, who was the 4th child, ran away from their home and found themselves as wanderers along the open road. They survived by doing odd jobs in the many villages they visited.

When passing through the coastal village of Mothras one day, Phäel and Larceir were taken captive by a band of pirates and managed to bargain their lives for Larceir’s skills as a swordsman, which he had been teaching to Phäel. Seeing the potential in the 2 siblings, the ship’s captain Asari Daisi decided to keep them on board the ‘Scarlet Spell’ as powder monkeys with a promise of promotion if they could survive the year.

Phäel had a strong moral code from growing up in a religious household that Larceir had abandoned, and therefore did not approve of being a part of a pirate’s crew, but his loyalty to his brother and fear of being alone kept him aboard the ship. Soon after joining the pirate crew, Phäel met a human boy, Jules Ilyak, who would become his best friend. Jules was also a powder monkey, although with much more experience, and was given the task of showing the half elf brothers the ropes around the ship. Taking an immediate liking to Phäel , the two after only a couple of weeks became inseparable. After Phäel’s first year on the ship, he was promoted to artilleryman along with his brother.

Although tempted many times to abandon the ‘Scarlet Spell’, Phäel one day witnessed the execution of a man who had attempted to leave during a raid, and a fear of Captain Daisi was instilled in him that would never leave him and would ultimately keep him on the ship for the next 10 years of his life.

Under Jules’ suggestion, Daisi began to give Phäel private sword fighting lessons in hopes of developing his skills. Larceir, who had originally taught Phäel how to fight, did not receive the same special treatment by the captain and grew jealous of his brother and his skills, although he was careful not to show his growing resentment. That same year, Larceir was promoted to gunner on the ship.

On a chilly fall day when Phäel was 16, the ‘Scarlet Spell’ was intercepted by a Zofranian Royal Naval ship, and a battle between the two ships commenced. Phäel, who was attempting to help Jules fight off the Royal Navymen trying to board the ship, was captured along with Jules and taken prisoner. Captain Nyx of the Zofranian Navy tortured the two boys for information on a smuggling ring taking supplies out of Zofrana, but the boys couldn’t tell Nyx anything because they didn’t know any information. Nyx, in torturing Phäel, made a deep gash along his face that would create a long jagged scar marking Phäel for the rest of his life. Nyx told the boys that they would be docking in Zofrana within the next day and that they would be hung for their crimes. The night after having the brand of piracy burned onto his chest, just before arriving in Zofrana, Phäel managed to pick the lock on his and Jules’ cells, making their escape into the night. Nyx caught them however, and tried to shoot Phäel, but not before Jules jumped in the way, taking a bullet to the head and saving his best friend. Phäel grabbed Jules’ body and managed to cut a lifeboat loose and escape from the ship. Phäel held Jules as he was dying, and Jules managed to stay alive long enough to tell Phäel that he loved him, then died in Phäel’s arms. The Zofranian ship shot down the lifeboat, knocking Phäel unconscious. When he woke up, Jules’ body was gone and Phäel was floating upon a splintered piece of driftwood. After floating for about 2 days, he was picked back up by the ‘Scarlet Spell’ by complete coincidence, starving and dehydrated, but very much alive.

Larceir was secretly bitter that his brother had survived, and began ignoring him on the ship, which Phäel noticed amidst the trauma of the incident aboard the Zofranian ship. A couple of months later, Phäel was made a junior officer while Larceir is already boatswain of the ship. Phäel has nightmares almost every night about what Nyx had done, and Daisi takes pity on him and teaches him how to control his emotions and channel those into his fighting. Phäel feels for the first time that he has something akin to a motherly figure.

One unsuspecting day after the grueling years progressing through the ranks, Phäel was conducting his crewmates as boatswain of the ship when his brother, who had taken the role of quartermaster, announced that the captain had fallen ill and that he would be in charge of the ship until her recovery.

Phäel had his concerns that his brother was not fit to be in the captain’s position because of the changes he had seen since they were kids. Larceir was no longer the loving brother he once had, but now felt cruel, with no regard for other lives. He had no idea if the life as a pirate or the contained anger he had since he was young was the culprit, but Phäel had a feeling things were about to take a turn for the worse with his brother in charge. If only he wasn’t such a coward, Phäel thought, he would escape on the next trip to shore. If only it were so easy.

Normally sailing courses were voted on as a crew, but as Phäel awoke one morning, he found the ship sailing unannounced to the coastal village of Wrunstead, cannons at the ready, and he realized with horror what his brother was about to do. Wrunstead had been the village that their mother grew up in, and Larceir had come to take his revenge on their absent mother. As the ship docked in the harbor, Larceir came to his Phäel and handed him his sword, slender and sharp. “Take this and fight with me, help me destroyed them the way she destroyed what we could have been.”

Phäel was hit with an unusual stroke of bravery and decided that he couldn’t let this happen, and as the crew swam to shore, Phäel broke off and hurried to help the citizens of the village who were trying to escape. Then he realized as he saw a group of children escaping a small building that the village had an orphanage, and knew he had to help them. There was no way he would allow his brother to harm children.

As Phäel hurried the children out of the building, he could hear a cannonball hit the floor above and began to feel the heat on his skin: the floor above had caught on fire. Panicked, he ran up the stairs and searched for any children that may have been left behind when a fiery beam fell on top of Phäel, rendering him unconscious.

A bright light hit Phäel’s eyes as he opened them slowly and saw a bright, glowing, many-winged figure floating in front of him, telling him that he had already begun to see his purpose, that he must be a protector to those who cannot protect themselves.

Phäel woke up in a daze in a medical center of the now singed and burning village of Wrunstead, which had managed to fight off the band of pirates. Still in shock from the fire, Phäel had lifted his left arm to run it through his hair, when he realised that he had no left arm, only a stump ending just above where his elbow had been. The lead healer told Phäel that his arm had been caught under a pile of wood and rubble and had to be amputated in order for the rest of him to escape the fire. Phäel was thanked by the village leader but was generally mistrusted by a majority of the village’s citizens because of his status as a once-pirate. He stayed in the village during his recovery from his injuries, and while staying there discovered a temple dedicated to the same god of the religion he grew up learning about and practicing, Helm. Here he was able to reconnect with parts of his old life and rekindle the faith that had been wavering during his years upon the sea. In this temple he swore his oath of devotion to Helm, and promised to become the protector that the world needed.

Once fully recovered Phäel set off on the road again, truly alone for the first time in his life, but also for the first time with a purpose: finding the mysterious glowing entity that had appeared before him and told him of his destiny. With his dominant arm still intact, Phäel began to start offering his services as a swordsman for hire to protect shipments travelling from port to port. In these ports he would ask around about any religious orders that worshiped a multi-winged being. Phäel found that port taverns were excellent places to find out secrets, so he hung around many a tavern out of hopes of finding out any information he could. On one special occasion in the city of Arkalai in eastern Penrith, he found more than just information, he found a friend.

The tiny gnome had approached him and offered to buy him a drink. Suspicious, Phäel accepted and took a seat next to the gnome, who’s name he found out to be Nima Nungel. Nima was a tinkerer who specialized in electric mechanics, and told Phäel that she could make him an arm to replace the one he had lost. Phäel knew nothing comes for free, so he asked what her price would be, and Nima responded that she needed help on a hunt. She had heard from some of the sailors Phäel had just been working with about his exceptional skills as a swordsman, and wanted his help with hunting a rogue giant which had been terrorizing the smaller towns around Arkalai. Phäel accepted her offer, wanting to help the town but worried also about the type of tinkerer Nima was. He had heard about the dangers of trying to harness electricity, and, although Nima seemed like a genuinely nice person, he wasn’t sure about her practices. However, he was even more unsure about whether he could live the rest of his life as a paladin without his arm.

They set off for the hunt, and Phäel, for the first time in a long time, felt the comfort of having something like a friend. Nima was enjoyable to be around, and after 3 days of travel around woods and forests, they were able to find and slay the giant. True to her word, Nima started immediately to work on the mechanical arm. Phäel decided to stay in town for a week or so while Nima worked, and took up a few odd jobs on the docks to try to earn some gold to be able to pay Nima back, although she had insisted that his help on the hunt had been enough.

When the arm was completed, Phäel was shocked at the complexity of the whirling gears and intricate pieces that he could control just by moving the muscles in the top of his arm the slightest bit. Small bits of stretched metal wired their way throughout the curving edges of the forearm and, although he couldn’t quite understand it, the arm worked perfectly. Phäel, out of his thankfulness, tried to give Nima the gold pieces he had earned, but Nima told him to use the money to buy some proper armor instead to hide the arm, not wanting Phäel to be attacked by those who did not trust that sort of technology. With hopes of seeing each other again some day, Phäel and Nima went their separate ways, and Phäel continued on his journey to search for the creature of his vision.

While in the port of Uasha in Southern Raclax, he heard of worshippers of a similar entity to the one from his vision with a small tribe in a forest area just north of a place called the Invisible Tides in Zofrana. Phäel felt hesitation going back to Zofranian waters, but knew he couldn’t avoid an entire country because of one person. He secured passage on a cargo ship, offering protective services, and set off to find this religious band. Phäel heard from some of the sailors he was sailing with that there was a festival taking place on the day they would be docking into the Invisible Tides, so he decided he would stay in town for a day or two to enjoy the festivities before setting off.

And thus began the adventure....

[business-gnome]

Mercantile Society Newsletter: Issue #1

Fitzkrank Oils and Lotions is coming to Boralus! Look forward to the grand opening of our shop in the harbor on May 15! We are currently looking to employ a local Kul Tiran sixteen gold an hour to work the store! If you are interested, address a letter to Gerald Fitzkrank to set up an appointment!

During one of my first nights, I was able to interview Aneokame, the owner and operator of The Brig and the Ashwood Vale Consortium.

Ran by the kaldorei named Aneokame Crowsong, The Brig is a delightful hole-in-the-wall tavern located just outside of the dwarven district.They are open from six to ten bells nightly and offers a quiet, more mature atmosphere. Things here are taken at an easy pace and one does not feel harried or as though they are surrounded by rowdy rabble rousers like at other bars in the city. Their menu includes a variety of high quality wines, meads, ales, and liquors, a true staple. If you do go to the tavern, make sure to try their moonberry mead, as it is truly out of this world!

Next door to The Brig is Miss Crowsong’s shop, the Ashwood Vale Consortium, who offer a wide variety of strange, unusual, rare, and eclectic goods! Some of the goods include potions, tea leaves, dried herbs, books, furs, beautiful jewels, and artifacts! They even have hand sewn dresses and men’s shirts, a perfect boutique if you are going to a ball! If you are ever in need of a custom piece, the Ashwood Vale Consortium should be your go-to place for fine wear! The Ashwood Vale Consortium is open in the afternoons or by appointment! Stop by today!

(Character name: Aneokame. Character Tumblr: https://aneokame-crowsong.tumblr.com/)

Now in stores, experience an absolutely divine scent of, La Gnome's Tresour lotion and moisturizer! Selling for 22 gold pieces, it is an essential date-night accomplice. The scent is intoxicating -- a sexy, feminine blend of rose, peach and apricot blossom (among other fruity, floral goodness). Plus, the lightweight formula leaves your skin so smooth, it'd be a crime to go un-caressed.

Now in stock: the scent of roasted pine lotion, selling for 17 gold pieces! Available in store or from Gerald Fitzkrank! This scent will leave you smokey and desired, a mature fragrance that will be sure to lead to delightful company! This lotion was created due to the desires of Ms. Seraanna!

Next, I was luckily able to speak to a woman that recently joined the Mercantile Society! Her story is of struggles and triumph, and she is a true self-starter! Unlike Haris Pilton, of course.

Jacqueline McLean was but a girl when she arrived to Stormwind from Gilneas. She had had nothing to her name but the clothes on her back! She had to learn the streets rather quickly, and learn what the denizens of the city wanted and needed. From there, she started working on several ships, taking up whatever tasks she could. She became well known in the docks, Jacqueline McLean becoming a common name for the denizens of the harbor. She then found herself working under a nobleman for some time and that is where she began to invest in a more lucrative business. She studied language, rising up to be one of the leading Gilnean diplomats. She is often stationed in Boralus, maintaining relations with the people there and the Alliance.

She captains ‘The Siren’s Rose’. She acquired it by saving for five years, and it is the product of all her hard work since she arrived in the city. Even though she was quite young to commandeer a ship herself, she was able to make her dream a reality! She accomplished her goals at just twenty-five years old. Now she is twenty-eight, and she is her own boss! Some would even say she is the captain of her own sails! She usually employs for other men, besides her first mate, Troy. If you are looking to work on a boat sailing between Stormwind City and Boralus, then ‘The Siren’s Rose’ may be perfect for you!

Jacqueline McLean’s cargo consists of raw materials such as herbs, cloth, and ores, as well as items for personal clients. If you need a reliable captain to navigate your cargo to another port, Jackie is your gal! Her ship is almost always at the harbor in Stormwind or in the harbor of Boralus, when of course, she is not on the seas. Her door is open most of the time, always welcoming to guests!

(Character tumblr: https://shewolf-jacqueline.tumblr.com/, character name: Jåcqueline)

Say goodbye to the unpopular scents! ‘Pumpkin Gut’ and ‘Peppermint’ beard oils are officially being shelved, as they are truly out of season! They will, however, be replaced by two rejuvenating scents, bringing life to your beard!

The first scent is that of extracted anchor weed, an exotic herb found only in Kul Tiras and Zandalar! This scent is reminiscent of the ocean, and the clear oil brings a beard to its full potential! Make your beard smell of the seas and be as soft as a fair maiden’s touch today! This scent is only available in our Boralus location for 21 gold pieces.

The second scent is true to the season is that of wild steelbloom! Now now, gentlemen! It may not sound the manliest, but the flower offers a hardy scent that is sure to have your partners hoping for more! This scent is offered in all stores and in person for 15 gold pieces!

If you are seeking a rowdy experience every other Friday night, then Kegfist Brewery is for you! The popularity of the joint is astounding, full groups entering and enjoying the festivities the Kegfist offer. It seems their name-sake, the ‘kegsmasher’, is quite the hit. From what I’ve seen, it seems to be a heavily potent beverage that gets the party started. I am starting off with the appetizer of ‘Steamed Mushan Mandu’, a dumpling filled with meat from those large, savory reptile. It tastes vaguely fowl, like chicken or duck, but the seasoning is absolutely delicious. I am drinking their ‘Light Tea’, which helps wash down the heavy dumplings. There even seem to be patrons of the other faction at this establishment, a neutral place to ease the tensions of war that is currently crippling our world.

For my entrée, I decided to sample the ‘Way of the Ramen’, ordering myself some greenstone ramen. It contains lean sliced tiger, cabbage, bean sprouts, and carrots. And while it tastes amazing, one of the kickers is that it is cooked right in front of you! The noodles came out perfectly, the texture helping emphasize the stark tastes within the bowl. The tiger was cooked within the stew, soaking in the broth and the juices of the vegetables. The many different tastes bring forth a delightful sense, the textures aiding the tongue. The carrots are soft and almost mushy, yet they taste as though they were freshly picked. I highly recommend this meal, as it is an all around delicious entrée. It even comes with a fortune cookie!

I ordered from the ‘Way of the Grill’ next, Mr. Kegfist’s specialty. I ordered the black pepper ribs and giant shrimp! Yet again, this was a meal that was cooked in front of me, and boy howdy did it look very interesting! Pandaren cuisine is a marvel sometimes. Mr. Kegfist offered me three options for the ribs; mild, spicy, or dragon sauced! I chose spicy, as I consider myself quite the daredevil, but not to any extreme. I am no Sneevil Cogdeevil! Ah, I remember the days of seeing him do his stunts in the salt flats. May he find peace, wherever his is today. The ribs were delectable, falling off the bone and nearly melting in my mouth! The sauce was indeed spicy, and it felt as though I could breathe fire! The shrimp were out of this world, fresh caught and gutted in the establishment, you could taste the ocean on them! They were spicy as well, popping in your mouth as you eat them!

Finally, it was time to take my tastes to the ‘Way of the Fish’! And I am feeling -extra- spicy this evening, so I ordered the dragon sauce calamari! This may have been the spiciest thing I have ever tasted! Though it was absolutely delicious, a staple of the establishment. And yet again, Mr. Kegfist prepared it right before me! Added fun to the whole experience!

Wupoda Kegfist is the owner and head chef of Kegfist Brewery. He is a Pandaren of Halfhill, and he has been growing crops and learning the way of cooking since he was a child! Wupoda gets all of his vegetables fresh from Pandaria, crediting the magical soil for allowing his crops to grow at rapid paces and with massive growth!

Originally, his name was Wupoda Kegfist, Wandering Merchant of a Thousand Ales. It took them many tries to settle down in Pandaria, as they tried Stormwind, Kul Tiras, and a few other random places here and there in an attempt to appeal to different crowds. Then one night, his group were hired to work an event in this establishment, and they never left!

Kegfist Brewery also do catering! You heard that right, and the best way to get them to cater your event is to reach out to Mr. Kegfist through the mail! They have a pricing sheet and a few different modules for folks to find the best catering package for them. Mr. Kegfist’s tip to those of you wanting to break into the catering scene is: “Find your niche. We thrive because there aren’t many Pandaren chefs out there who have made business out of their skill. Most of us just do it for their friends and family.” So if you have a dream of becoming a caterer, do not be shy to express yourself and be adventurous! You may turn out to be as successful as Mr. Kegfist. If you market yourself as unique, it becomes harder for others to compete with your business! If Mr. Kegfist wasn’t running his restaurant, he would be tagging alongside the Darkmoon Faire! He has learned quite a few party tricks over his years in the bar tending scene.

Kegfist Brewery is always recruiting! “We can never say no to hopeful aspiring employees. We have more positions than just cooks and bartenders, so never consider yourself out just because you’re no good with food! Entertainers are always in high demand. Magic, jokes, a silly costume, it all works if you bring the charm. I’m posted in the Mage District of Stormwind pretty often for open interviews, if you ever see me around, come introduce yourself! -Wupoda Kegfist.

To close, Wupoda Kegfist leaves us with this nugget of wisdom: “Build your tables low to the ground, it is much harder to be drank under them.” He welcomes all to stop by Kegfist Brewery, as their doors are always open with cold drinks and friendly smiles! Be sure to catch them every other Friday night, from six bells to nine bells at The Drunken Hozen!

(Character name: Wupoda, guild tumblr: https://kegfistbrewery.tumblr.com/)

[cosmichoneyedblossoms]

Ocean Eyes

Pairing: Shownu X Reader

Genre: Pirate!AU, Smut, Angst

Word Count: 3,021

Summary: While taking you back home, Shownu couldn’t help falling for you. You insisted on him keeping you aboard knowing that women being pirates was against code, but what happens when he learns why you became a pirate?

The ocean breathed, her surface rising and falling with rhythmic ease. The waves mimicked the pulse that pumped the blood through your very own veins as if you were part of the ocean. Her beautiful turquoise waters crashed against the hull of the ship—in the countless days you’ve been on the board, you never took the time to admire the beauty it held. It never occurred to you to take the time to wonder about the ancient oak that had no longer smelt of wildflowers, but seeped the calming scent of sea salt. The masts that stood tall like they used to in the forest, once decorated with green foliage, was now fashioned with sails of dingy white and creams, but now that you think about it, the rich dark timbers reminded you of him.

“Y/N.”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

You looked away from the glittering ocean to his face, catching his soft gaze. His eyes reminded you of the rocks that jutted out of the sea, flecks of deep brown married with lighter hues, weathered by the chaotic waves, “We’ll be at Singapore in the next two days…” Shownu usual thunderous voice was matching the calmness of the wind, it almost getting caught in the wind. The counted days that you spent on the boat were ones that Shownu began to treasure, and the closer you got to Singapore, the more he wanted to keep you near.

“Y’know, you could always keep me on, Captain.” You swung your legs over the railing, your shoes making a thump as your weight hit the wood. Even if you make it home, you’re still going to be a pirate, that’s all you’ve ever known, and with red coats coming after you, sailing the seas would be the only way to keep them at bay.

“You know you can’t, a woman being a pirate is—”

“Against the code… bu-but times are changing just as fast as the wind changes its course—”

“You’re not staying on this ship, and if you value your life, you’ll stay off of one unless your traveling.” His words were adding fuel to your fire, you wanted to stay, not just for you, but for Shownu, and him telling you that he wouldn’t even have you, made your blood boil.

“I don’t care about my life…” You pointed out, Shownu’s eyes widening at your emotionless words, “Without the sea, I’m nothing. This, this is my home. On a ship, this ship in particular—” He took long strides to you as you tried to elucidate your feelings, his feet hit the wood so hard it could break under his heavy steps. His rough calloused hands cupped your face while bringing his face closer to yours.

“You’re willing to lose your life over being a pirate—”

“If it means that I get to spend it with you, yes!” You bellowed, standing your ground. He was speechless at your sudden confession, he couldn’t fathom that the feelings he had for you were mutual. Your habitually dark eyes now look that of the clear waters at the shoreline, showing everything to the naked eye, he could tell you weren’t lying to stay, you were confessing in hopes he would understand.

“Y/N… I—”

“Captain.” You turned your head at the voice that just barely reached your ears, Jongho stood with his head down, his eyes avoiding any contact, “We’re almost to port…” Shownu closed his eyes, a sigh escaping him; his hands dropped from their hold on you to his sides.

“Get everything ready…” You rolled your eyes at him, annoyed that Jongho had to come and ruin the conversation you were sharing with Shownu, but it’s the perfect time to work.

“I’ll start—”

“You are to go back to your room, Y/N.” Annoyance was so clear that his words came off harsh.

“Oh, you mean my cage?” You hissed, crossing your arms, “Can’t let anyone see that you're harboring a lady on board, can you?”

“I didn’t mean it like that—” You turned away from you, stomping your way toward the floor door, yanking it open and dripping down below deck. Shownu groaned running his hands through his greasy hair, can you blame him? If red coats saw you, they would be after you in a second, let alone another pirate. Word would reach the seven kings faster than the Kraken could devour a while ship.

“Y’know, Captain…” Jungho spike softly, knowing it wasn’t his place, “You like Lady Y/N, right?” Shownu’s cheeks pinked up as well as the tips of his ears.

“No…”

“I’m going to take the fact that you’re blushing like a drunken man as a yes. Why don’t you offer her a night in a nice bed? She’s been sleeping on that thing we call a bed in the brig for over two months now, I bet the poor girl would love to sleep in an actual bed…” Jungho was right, Shownu had you sleeping the brig even though he considered you as someone that was too precious to be sleeping in some prison.

“We’re close to Lalorna’s place, aren’t we?” Shownu’s eyes stayed glued to the open door, Jungho soon nodding his head.

“We’re staying here tonight.” Shownu stopped in front of a layered building, candlelit windows with silhouettes of a woman bouncing against the walls past the windows.

“You brought me to a brothel?” You huffed, turning on your heels, “I’ll just sleep on—” Shownu gripped your arm, tugging you into his side.

“It’s a respectable one, one that is going to offer you a clean bed to sleep in.” The door to the house popped open, giggles and moans left the door as a woman ushered a man from the inside, her gaze soon landing on Shownu.

“If it isn’t Captain Shownu, how are ya love?” Her accent was as thick as honey as she walked towards him.

“Lalorna, business is as busy as ever.” She offered her hand to Shownu, his large hand quick to take hold of her skin, bringing it up to his lips.

“Always.” Her eyes fell to you, your heart fluttering at the way she batted her full lashes, “I see you brought a woman this time.”

“I’m taking Y/N back to Singapore, where she belongs. I was hoping you would let her stay one night here at your establishment.” She flicked her gaze back to him, her tongue coming out to run over her pink lips.

“What’s in it for me?” Shownu dug in his pocket to pull out a pouch about the size of his palm, the coins inside clinking together.

“50 pounds?” He hummed, Lalorna’s dainty fingers were quick to grab it.

“Oh darling, would you like a bath too? Spending time on a ship with grimy men must be wearing off on you.” She took your arm, beginning to lead you to the house, Shownu followed close behind until the door closes behind you, “Shownu, please…” She looked towards another door, pointing the way with her chin, “My husband was just talking about you the other day, why don’t you pop in while I’m getting her bath ready.”

“Is that so?” Shownu parted ways with you as Lalorna took you up two flights of stairs, screams of pleasure mixed with moans fading at you reached the top floor.

“He’s quite a man, isn’t he?” She hummed, leading you to a bedroom.

“Shownu?”

“Yes, he’s so unique, and handsome.” Lalorna wasn’t wrong at all, he definitely is handsome and oddly unique, but really harsh with you most of the time, and he can’t seem to understand why you want to stay.

Lalorna opened a door, ushering you inside, your eyes landing on the bathtub sitting in the corner of the room, steam rising up from the inside, “D-did you know we were coming?” You asked as you stepped closer to the bath.

“I usually take a bath up here since it’s quieter and ya just happened to show up. You’re more than welcome to it.” A smile appeared on her face while she walked over to the bed, turning it down.

“Thank you, Lalorna.” You slightly dipped your head, watching her float over to the door.

“Anything for Shownu, you just go on ahead and relax in the water and I’ll bring ya up some fresh clothes.” You nodded, watching the door close behind her, your body sighing in the stillness of the room. You stripped off the sea salt stiff clothes and stepped into the hot water, your body dipping down under its warmth, “This is so nice…” It has been a while since you’ve taken a warm bath and it was nice to relax, it was so nice you felt that you could fall asleep at any moment when the door popped open.

“Lalorna told me to—” Shownu’s eyes fell to your naked body in the bath, “Oh—I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be. It’s just my body, no need to get all shy…” You sat up, the water barely covering your breasts, “Why don’t you come and join me?” You teased noticing the way his face was a beet red.

“You’re not funny, Y/N.” He closed the door to keep other possible eyes from seeing you

“Well, why not? We’re just bathing together. Or would you like to bathe by yourself?” You stood from the tub, his heavy gaze following your curves, the ones that were hidden under the loose-fitting clothes that you wore. Your skin glowed under the candlelight, droplets of water dripped from the ends of your hair, tracing your shape—Shownu has been with plenty of women before, but you were more beautiful than anyone he’s seen before. He was enamored with you standing there, cloaked in the light, he didn’t even care if you were naked or not, all he cared about is that you were there in front of him, “Are you going to join me or not?” Your voice, smoother than honey, sent chills up his spine as he tugged off his clothes, his heart pounding inside his chest. Shownu stepped into the bath and sat down his legs going on either side of you as you sat back down, hugging your legs to your chest. He watched as you closed your eyes, relaxing in the subtle silence that fell around you; he swallowed hard, the silence becoming too much for him, he worried you could hear the rattling of his ribcage as his heart thrashed.

“So…” Your lashes open to reveal your tired eyes, “H-How have the guys been treating you?” You furrowed your brows while you cocked your head to the side, your chin resting against your knees.

“They’re all nice, they all have their quirks, but that’s normal.”

“Oh?” Shownu kinked an eyebrow, his voice tone raising a bit.

“Yeah…” You unwrapped your arms from your legs and leaned back against the tub, resting your legs on either side of them, your warm flesh resting on his, “Like Seonghwa is a major clean freak and Yeosang gets a little upset if you stare at his birthmark too much, and heaven forbid you tell Jungho to stop singing, he’ll tear your head off.” Shownu let a smile play upon his lips hearing you point out thinks about his crew that he’s never noticed.

“They just listen to me, never really put up fights—”

“That’s because you’re their captain.” The smile that came to your lips as you met his gaze melted him. You always put on this strong front, but you had your moments of softness that he couldn’t get enough of.

“Why did you become a pirate?” He hummed, your eyes widening at his words.

“What?”

“It can’t be for the rum, the way these men drink, there’s no way you could be one for that.”

“Well… I initially became one to save my father. He was a part of a crew before I was even a year old and he swore he would come back to my mother, but once a deal is struck with Davy Jones, your soul is sold to him…” Your eyes drifted down to the water, your fingers starting to fiddle with each other, “Ever hear about the story of pirate selling his soul to Davy Jones just so his barren wife could give birth to a child?” Shownu knew the story well, but the way he heard it from his father told him the story many times when he was a kid.

“A child born from ocean waves, sea salt kisses, and hurricane winds is one that Davy Jones will take souls for.” You nodded your head, a forced smile appearing on your lips.

“To free him, I’ll need to hand myself over to him, but my love of the sea keeps me running from him.” You sighed, your eyes come back to meet his. He took your hands into his and brought them up to his lips, pressing kisses into your skin.

“As long as I live, I’ll make sure you’re safe and you get to enjoy your life on a ship.” His whispered words made your heart jump.

“Hold on… you’re letting me stay? On your ship?”

“As long as you’ll stay by my side through it all, of course.” You squealed clapping your hands, excited that he’s letting you stay, but Shownu poured at the fact you didn’t seem to catch what he said. He tugged your body to him until his face was close to yours, “Did you catch what I said, Y/N?” Your face flushed with coming so close to him.

“N-No… what did you say…”

“I said I want you by my side.” He released your hands to caress your face, “If you’ll have me.”

“Shownu… I…” You breathed, his lips grazing yours as he rested his forehead against yours. You could feel the want against his blazing skin and who are you to deny what you’ve wanted for so long. You pressed your lips against his, all the tension that was held inside you faded as his fingers rubbed your cheeks, them falling to your neck, keeping you against him. The blissful moment you were swimming in became ruined when the muffled sounds of moaning and pleasure laced screaming made through their way through the floorboards; you pulled away from him, trying to stifle a laugh, “Seems like someone is enjoying themselves.”

“Y-yeah…” Shownu dropped his head to rest on your shoulder, his eyes falling to his cock standing under the water. The moaning from down below didn't help his problem, ”It seems that my body is reacting on its own…”

“What’re you talking about?” You looked down to see what he was hinting at, a smile spreading over your lips as you wrapped your hand around his girthy length in your hand, “Did they turn you on?” You hummed slowly, stroking his cock, his voice getting caught in his throat.

“Hell, girl…” He huffed before sucking in a breath through his teeth as your one hand stroke him and the other massaged his balls, his weak point. Shownu closed his eyes, letting his fingers trace over your fleshy shape, them dipping into your folds to slip into your core, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

“Shownu—”

“It’s only fair.” He thrusted his fingers into you, them curling right into your g-spot; your walls clamped around him as he beckoned your orgasm, your hands starting to slack with pleasuring him, “Y’know, there’s a really great way to please us both…”

“Oh yeah… what would that be…?” You breathed knowing exactly what he meant. Your hands fell from his cock as he turned his lips onto your neck, his tongue licking up to your ear lobe, gentle teeth nipping at its tenderness.

“Slid into my lap and I’ll take you to paradise…” He whispered, pulling his fingers from your heat to wrap around his member and you quickly straddled him, lining him up with your entrance. You sunk down onto him, his cock filling you so well; you moaned loudly as he reached deep inside you, your extremities gripped his muscular shoulders as you adjusted to him. Shownu took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, calming his excitement to finally be inside you, to be one with you.

“I can feel you pulsing inside me… don’t cum just yet, Captain…” You raised your hips, his cock sliding out of your needy folds until his tip rested inside you. Sinking back down on him, his hands came around and gripped your ass, thrusting his cock into you. The sounds of water splashing onto the wooden floor mixed with your whines of pleasure filled the space around you, the burn in your lower belly began to singe your nerves as the fire crept up your limbs.

“Funny talking about me cumming first when you're clamping down on me…” He chucked letting your flesh go, your hips unable to stop their movements, your body eager to reach its high. Shownu massaged your bouncing breasts, pinching your nipples between nimble fingers, sending electricity through your body, tingles, and flames taking over your thoughts as you climaxed. Your body shook over him while your walls constricted his throbbing cock, your pussy making him cum inside your warmth. You sank down into his lap with your eyes closed and pressed your forehead to his while you floated down from your high, coming back down to the man you love. You opened your eyes to meet his gaze, it making your heart race.

“W-What? Why are staring at me?” Fire crawled up into your cheeks as you tried to break the connection with him, but he held your chin steady and pecked at your lips.

“Just staring at the Queen of the Sea as she appears before me.” The sweet side of Shownu is own that he never showed often, but it was easy with you. Without even noticing, he was opening up to you in ways that he’s never done for anyone else—the tides were changing, and you were the cause of it.

[mrneighbourlove]

Red Typhoon: Ch 5. Cool as Ice, Hot as Flames, this is the Beat of the Mad Crocodile Rock

Corsaire had fought his way out of the bar, luckily without getting shot. There was a loud commotion in the casino, people screaming and running in every direction. He saw Eltontor picking up Lex and ran toward the pirate. Firing a single shot, the bullet nicked Eltontor's ear.

"LET HER GO!"

The bullet entered behind his head, and Eltontor roared, his clawed hand squeezing into Lex instead of letting her go. Raising his gun, he fired a bullet the size of a cannon shot towards Corsaire. "Somebody kill that rat!"

Revy and Rat were the first to hear, and saw a commotion of crocodile men firing at Corsaire. The Gerudo lady took notice of the massive crocodile with the golden eye. "Dad! That's Eltontor! And he has Lex!"

"Revy, get his attention and I'll a-go behind him." Rat told his daughter as the two rushed toward the crew. "Keep out of the line of fire, and watch your steps. Keep your guard up around these men."

Corsaire had dove behind a stack of barrels, the ale inside gushing out onto the docks. He then kicked one barrel forward that was not busted, and ran behind it. The crew men had to avoid the barrel and he took the advantage; shooting them dead on.

Revy did as she was told, raising her blade. "HEY! You ready to crocodile rock and roll?!"

She jumped down from her cover and drew her sword. Eltontor growled, firing a shot at her. Where did these people keep showing up from? He had to get to his ship. Adda would pay handsomely for one of her daughters back.

When his internal radar picked up Rat sneaking up from behind, he gave a low click for his first mate to arrive.

Bursting from underneath the weak ice, a normal, yet massive Crocodile snapped at Rat.

Rat saw the other crocodile jump out of the water. Even though it had been years since he had fought as a gladiator, he still knew some dirty tricks. Not to mention, he had fought against this kind of breed before. Yelling, Rat grabbed the first mate's tail and swung him around... colliding with Eltontor.

Eltontor gasped as he was struck. "GET OF ME YOU FATASS! EAT HIM!"

The crocodile turned around, and waddled to Rat, jaws open and ready to devour him in a death roll if it caught him. He started running onto dry land, moving through the jungle with Lex in hand. Revy followed him, wishing how she had a fire arm. Even a bow and arrow would do. "Get back here with my friend you creep!"

"Revy!" Rat tossed his daughter his rifle. "Aim, breathe, and fire!!!" Then he turned his attention to the crocodile. "I'm going to a-turn you into a nice trophy."

Corsaire tried to follow, but was blocked by other crew members.

Halvar's sensitive ears picked up on all the commotion. He smelled the rest of the crew, along with gunpowder and blood.

"Liz... I think your sister is in trouble." He sniffed the air. "... her scent is going... this way!"

Bakura, Liz and Halvar ran as fast as they could. They came into the clearing to see Revy fighting Eltontor in an exchange of gunfire. She had little experience using a rifle. Rising up, she went to shoot Eltontor... only to have the massive Crocodile man bound on her cover. She had hesitated on firing and it cost her. Unable to draw her sword quickly enough, Eltonor clawed her across the lower chest with one of his hands. Her blood sprayed across the rock as she fell back, clenching her wound. If she hadn't jumped back, she'd be holding her guts in instead of just trying to stop the blood. The Crocodile Captain smiled with a toothy grin. "Looks like I have two Gerudo as my pets now."

Liz screamed as she saw Revy be nearly gutted. This brute had both her sister and her best friend at her mercy. Rushing down to face him, she thought about all her anger. This man worked for Adda. Adda had ruined her happiness. So this man would face her wrath. Her fingers cackled, and as he raised his gun to fire at her, Liz beat him to it, raising her hand, and instinct took over for her. A blinding light made Eltontor fire into the air, and Liz turned that light into a searing flame, launching a bolt at the crocodiles bullet wound in the kneecap. Her target screamed and fell back, and she jumped on top of his stomach, straddling him. With fists of fire she started to beat his face in. "GET! AWAY! FROM! MY! SISTERS!"

"Liz, wait!!!" Halvar watched as his intended beat the ever loving shit out of the man. The pirate captain was unconscious now, and he pulled her off of the man. "We still need him alive to find your father! My love, look at me." He held her face in his hands. "Calm down... we have him. We'll take care of Lex and Revy. Let's get the bastard back to the ship to interrogate him."

"I...I..." Liz breathed heavily, looking down at the scarred, burnt face of Eltontor. "I'm sorry... I lost control."

"H-he might think its 'hot'." Revy chuckled making her pun, blood leaking from her mouth now. "I should be the one apologizing. He got me good. I keep taking stabs wounds for you two..."

Bakura was getting to work immediately on Revy, grinding up herbs and getting bandages ready. "Liz, Halvar, get Lex awake and make sure she's ok."

"I'll get the pirate, make sure he's a-bound tight." Rat came into view and tossed Halvar a pair of cuffs for wrists, connecting the ankle and neck. Corsaire had made his way through the jungle area with Rat. The captain of the Sea Witch did not look pleased. "You two help Lex, Revy, and Bakura. We's heading back to the ship now. Put Lex in her cabin." Corsaire had a deep frown etched into his face. "And keep her there."

"Captain?" Halvar wanted to make sure he heard right. "Keep her there?"

"She's not leaving that cabin until I talk to her."

Scarlet made it back to the ship with the rest of the crew after a few minutes. "Rat? Where's Revy? I heard we're leaving. Did we get our target?"

"Aye, dat we did." Rat had Eltontor over his shoulder while Halvar and Liz helped Revy walk. Thanks to Bakura's touch of magic, she was fine, just in need of rest. "Cap'n... cap'n's not happy with Lex though."

Rat watched Corsaire tromp onto the ship and give orders to the rest of the crew to ready the sails.

"I'm here mom. Don't worry. We got the scaly punk. I'll be fine." Revy walked off, hiding the discomfort she felt from her wound.

"Should I have a talk with Lex?" Scarlet didn't want to step her bounds, as it was Corsaire's mission after all, but she sometimes felt the twins looked up to her as a mother figure.

"She disobeyed orders from the cap'n," Rat sighed, noticing Corsaire's permanent scowl on his face. "Caused a ruckus and our daughter got hurt. He's a-going to give her an earful. You could warn her if you like but won't do no good."

"Well, perhaps I should talk to her, give her a cushion. How did we catch Eltontor anyways?"

"Eh... Liz burnt him."

Scarlet took a step back, her face quickly building with an abundance of emotion. "She did what Rat?"

"Burnt him. See?" Rat turned to show Scarlet the face of Eltontor.

Scarlet started to lose control of her breathing. "And Lex? How did she fair against Eltontor???"

"I don't know, the harbor just turned... icy."

"By the gods. By the gods!" Scarlet laughed aloud, disbelief over taking her. She ran to Liz, who was processing the mission. "Liz! Show me your fire!"

"What?"

"You can use fire now, can you not?"

Liz nodded. She hadn't given it much thought, but the knowledge to use magic was swirling around in her mind now. Had her emotions being pushed to save her loved ones unlocked a talent? She lifted her palm out and decided to give it a try. A flame flickered out, surrounded by an extra light.

Scarlet was ecstatic. "Come on! We're getting your sister!"

"We are? What about-"

"The Captain can lecture her after! Come on!"

Lex had finally started to regain consciences and her head was killing her. Her natural reaction was to touch the wall next to her and lean into it. It felt nice and cold. When Scarlet burst in with Liz, she screamed in celebration. "It's true! It's true!"

Lex did not appreciate the screaming. "P-please stop."

"Lex! Look at the beam!"

The white haired Gerudo did so, and saw a smooth layer of ice. "What?"

"Your sister has fire! You have ice! Don't you know what this means?! You're Twinrova!!!"

The twins were thrown for a loop. Twinrova? The magic Gerudo twins of Fire and Light with Ice and Darkness? Liz's mouth dropped. "No. No we can't we be."

"Why not?! It makes so much sense!"

"We aren't important enough to be-"

"Nonsense. Destiny has made Captain Adda the greatest Gerudo woman on the planet. The fact that you two are Twinrova, her children, is only fate and power having cultivated. This is amazing you two!"

All Lex gave in response in her current migraine was, "Cool."

Scarlet clasped her hands. "I know we have mission, but between traveling, I can tell you both the importance about this. Right now, you have to have a talk with Captain Corsaire Lex. He's very coarse with you."

"What? What did I do?"

"I don't know. But we can talk about it after. We'll talk when you're done Lex. Let's go Liz."

Rat was a little confused about the whole 'Twinrova' deal but was sure Scarlet would educate him later on the matter. After restraining Eltontor in the cargo hold, Rat turned his attention to Revy. He was sure that his daughter was a little shaken from the whole ordeal. After all, this was her first real fight. For now, he was getting Revy into a cabin to rest and recover from her wounds.

Once the ship was far from the harbor, Corsaire descended the steps to Lex's cabin.

Lex heaved over the toilet, still feeling the effects of her roofie.

Banging on the door, Corsaire was not going to let Lex ignore him right now.

"Open the damn door."

"It's unlocked Uncle." Lex's only comfort was using her ice to cool her head. Felt really good.

Marching into the room, the captain closed the door behind him. He was downright angry at Lex's brashness. It had caused trouble for everyone, including a few members of the crew getting hurt. If she had listened to him, the entire ordeal could have gone smoothly. Over the course of his career, both as a pirate and a navy captain, he had done this thousands of times.

"You disobeyed my direct orders, Lex."

"I'm sorry about that. Did we catch him though?"

"Sorry isn't going to cut it, Lex." Corsaire snapped at her. "You caused a fire fight, you caused your friend to get hurt, you caused trouble. This could have been avoided if you listened to me."

"Did we catch him?" Lex repeated, ignoring his anger.

"At a cost, and that should never happen."

"Ok than. I was the one who found him. I was the one who played it safe. It's not my fault that he cheated, than decided to run off like a coward and order gunfire on us. I'm the one who stopped him from fleeing. We would have lost our only lead in finding my mother and Seer if I didn't act. Tell me I'm wrong. If not, maybe you can show me some respect!" Lex's face grew hard, holding down the contents of her stomach. "You think I don't care that Revy got hurt? Of course I do you smug asshole. But that's the risk we all took. I'm puking because I was roofied. What did you lose in this dice roll?"

"YOU DIDN'T LISTEN!!!" Corsaire shouted so loud that the whole ship heard it. "This is exactly why I didn't want you to come along! You're a liability, Lex! Someone always has to watch your ass! You give no thought about how your actions affect others!!!" The captain was done being nice and holding his tongue. "I have never lost a man before, and this time, I came close because of your arrogance! We have followed the same protocol for finding information and no one has gotten hurt under my watch. Because of your actions today, we'll be lucky if one of Eltontor's men doesn't alert Adda that we're close to finding her!" He swore under his breath. "If you want respect, you have to earn it first and stop being an entitled bitch like Eltontor called you. You think anyone is going to respect you parading yourself around and acting all high and mighty?! You may be sought after in Uskar, but this is not your home! This is dangerous and you have no power here! You're not royalty, you're not a warrior, and you're certainly no asset to me or my crew, putting us in danger!!! This is my ship, and you will follow my orders or goddess so help me, I'll have you on the first boat back to Uskar!!!" He then ordered. "You are confined to your cabin until further notice. When you start acting like a rational adult, and think of others before yourself on this ship, then I'll consider letting you out."

The entire crew winced at the verbal beat down that Lex received from Corsaire.

"Oi... I don't think I've ever heard him that mad." Rat said quietly to Scarlet.

With a strident 'slam', the captain exited Lex's quarters before she had a chance to say one word to him.

Lex was immediately broken down, and started to weep, her voice squeaking as small as a mouse. "I-I just want to be important and help everyone."

Bakura took his mask off, waving Corsaire over. He was unaware that Corsaire was going to verbally crush Lex, and it threw his mindset for a loop. "A moment?"

"I'm not talking to anyone right now." Corsaire held up a hand before Bakura could say a word. His shoulders slumped and he rubbed his forehead with one hand. He was not trying to be rude, he simply needed a moment to collect his thoughts. "Later. If you need something, ask Rat."

"Just be careful. Lex is dangerously close to becoming like her mother. She just wanted to help. Be careful when pushing her. She's my daughter after all." And that was all Bakura left it at. He should have watched over both his daughters. Perhaps things have gone differently, but he wasn't there, so he couldn't judge either the pros or the cons.

"If she wanted to help, then she would have listened and stopped acting like a brat for goddess' sake!" Corsaire snapped, and then his face fell. "Sorry. I'm not angry at you. Go attend to your duties. This will blow over soon. Let me know when the reptile is awake."

Bakura's face twisted with a primal rage. Lex was wild, he couldn't deny that, but like hell would he continue to stand by and let anyone chew her out doing her best. How dare this man berate his daughter for trying. This twist of rage, however, is all Seth needed to break through. "You should trust our daughters abilities, Captain. You know what, it's been too long since I hurt someone for information."

When Bakura spoke in union, it was a sign his mind had either lost control, or he was shifting control over to Seth. The Shiekah lead Corsaire to the lower levels and made a palm strike on the reptilian crocodile, and twisted. Eltontor suddenly screamed with pain and terror awake. Seth brushed his hair. "One fat crocodile wide and awake."

"I want to, Bakura." Corsaire stated with a hard tone. "But if Lex cannot control her actions for the sake of others, then it begs the question of if I can."

Down in the cargo hold, the captain watched as the reptile man jumped awake. He held a dagger, using it to get rid of the grit underneath his nails. "Now, we can make this really easy for you, crocodile, or you can chose the hard route and my friend here," Corsaire gestured to Bakura. "Will pull all your claws out, then your teeth, maybe an eye or two, and after that, your scales one by one."

"It's Seth."

Eltontor was terrified, and everything hurt like hell. How could the pain get any worse. "W-what do want to know?"

"Excuse me, my friend Seth here will..." Corsaire waved his dagger for emphasis. "Dismantle you." He then stated. "I will put this as simply as I can for your reptilian brain; I want to know the location of Captain Adda's home."

"I d-don't kn-" Seth immediately cut him off by ripping two claws out of the croc's fingers. Eltontor screamed loudly in pain. "I DON'T KNOW THAT!"

"Hmmmm. Maybe you need to see more clearly."

"What?"

Seth grinned, and taking the knife, cut out Eltontor's artificial golden eye. It took a good ten minutes for the crocodile to stop screaming.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I go out of order? Let me get a tooth." With a sharp pull, Seth tore out a canine. They hadn't even gotten a lick of information yet, and he already had done so much damage. However, Eltontor was scarred stiff now.

"Maybe you should go for the balls next, he hasn't said one word yet."

"I DON'T KNOW! VERY FEW PEOPLE DO!"

Seth grinned, and gave the croc a few punches, breaking his snout and an arm. The reptile was bleeding all over Corsaire's floor now. Seth snapped his fingers at the dazed crocodile. "Bakura loathes violence like this. Little man was on your end of a torture interrogation himself once. Now, I want you to answer a question. Would a man in a red tie match the description of someone who can find Adda for us?"

"Y-yes."

"Details, or you're going to make a very nice purse for my wife."

"He keeps his real name a secret. He runs his organization in the shadows and acts as a partner to Adda. Goes by the name, King Crimson."

"Partner? Interesting. Never knew Adda liked to share power." Corsaire raised an eyebrow. "And where can we find him?"

"She needs to. You think, even with all her might, she has the resources to run the muscle and intelligence that controls the sea for her? You can find him on Dios Isola. But I doubt you'll get him to help you..."

"Oh, we're not asking for help, we're demanding it." Corsaire walked over to Eltontor. "You see, over seven years ago, Adda kidnapped one of my brothers and has held him hostage since then. So, I'm taking a page out of my brother-in-law's book, he's psychopath, borderline me thinks, you see." He held the dagger right underneath Eltontor's chin, pressing the tip into the skin. "If anyone gets in my way, I'll simply blown them into tiny bits, put their parts in my chum bucket, toss it into the sea, then dunk Adda feet first into the shark invested water and watch with glee as she gets eaten little by little for hurting my brother. Get my drift, purse bag?"

"Yeah! I do. I'm sorry for calling your niece a bitch. And all the rest of the trouble. What more can I give you?!"

"Hrm, I don't know, Seth, what more can he give us?" Corsaire glanced at the assassin with a small smirk. "Got any ideas?"

"I think you should just skin him slowly. We got what we need. But it doesn't mean we can't have some fun. Surely you want to avenge your niece."

Eltontor's remaining eye was bulging and bloodshot with pain and terror. "T-THAT'S NOT FAIR!"

"He did try to roofie the brat. No telling what he's done to other innocent ladies." Corsaire played along with Seth's insinuation. "You know what, I'm feeling generous. Instead of me, the captain, deciding the appropriate punishment for trying to take advantage of my niece, I'll let her father decide. Sound good to you, Seth?"

"Gladly." Seth took his knife and drove it into Eltontor's neck, precisely to make it a drawn out death. "Hey, Corsaire. You'll get a kick out of this."

The Shiekah shook, and blinking, Bakura's face turned white as he came back into consciousness. He saw what he had done, the crocodilian man raising his mangled hand out to him. Bakura threw himself back, panicking at the area around him. "D-Did we torture him? Did you let me torture him?! What-" Bakura was flashing back to his own torment. "What the hell?! What the FUCKING HELL CORSAIRE!!!"

"We got what we needed." Corsaire was showing hardly any concern at all. "We have another source to find Adda. The shadow man with the red tie or whatever. This," He motioned to the reptile. "Is merely chum now. Go clean up. I'll take care of the body." Pulling Bakura out of the way, the captain then stepped on a hidden mechanism in the cargo hold. It opened up trap doors, depositing Eltontor into the sea for the fishes to fed upon at leisure. "He's of no worries to us now."

Bakura was flushing emotion. "You- you SON OF A BITCH!!!"

The Shiekah threw into a frenzy, kicking Corsaire as he leaned down to pull the trap doors back up. "YOU LET ME BE A MONSTER!!! YOU KEEP INSULTING MY DAUGHTER!!! YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!!!"

Corsaire turned swiftly and punched Bakura with his metal arm, sending the man flying into the wall. He then held out his gun, the barrel of it in contact with the man's forehead.

"I didn't let you do anything. Your other half did it." Corsaire said coldly with a glare. "If you want to go back home with Lex, then be my guest. We're here to rescue Seer, and I'll not have your temper tantrum or Lex's foolishness get in our way after seven years of my brother being a hostage."

Years of mediation, ruined in one swift stroke. Seth needed less than half an hour to ruin everything Bakura stood for. Again. Bakura started to break down. "Get me out of this room! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!"

"Exit's this way." Corsaire merely dragged the man along with him by the arm. "Control yourself, and clean up." He opened the door to Bakura's cabin.

Bakura went to the deck and vomited overboard, disgusted by his own actions. He couldn't control his head space, and all he heard was Seth mocking him. "QUIT LAUGHING AT ME!!! THIS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"Cap'n?" Rat overheard Bakura's yelling. "What's wrong with---"

"His other half got the best of him." Corsaire went to the wheel to steer the ship. "Check on him and make sure he rests."

Scarlet was heavily concerned. She had seen this behaviour once before. It was after Seth had killed two of her crew mates, and made Adda question everything about her relationship with Bakura. The man had exiled himself, drowned in hysteria and grief. "Bakura?"

"Did anyone hear that?"

"No. That room was pretty sound proof."

"My daughters... my daughters could have heard." Bakura looked hysterically at Rat. "What if your daughter heard he was back, on this ship with her?"

"Look here, Bakie," Rat put his hands on Bakura's shoulders. "We's all have slip ups. You's back in control now. We didn't a-hear anything, so the girls didn't a-hear anything." He patted Bakura's cheek with his rough, calloused hands. "You's fine. No one's saying anything, aye?"

"I'm not fine. I'm not. I'm never going to be ok. All this shit with Adda, you losing Seer, is all because I can't keep HIM in check! I should have settled down Adda years ago and been a family man! I'm a fuck up, I'm- FUCK!" Bakura tore away, smashing his hand against his face. "I need to not think. I need something, anything, please."

THWANG!!!

Down Bakura went after Bomba hit him in the head with one of Seer's old frying pans.

"BOMBA!!!" Rat yelled at him. "What in the fuck?!?!"

"... what? He was freaking out, and he said he needed not ta think. Can't think when you's sleeping."

Scarlet shook her head sadly. "I wish you had the life you desired with Adda, Bakura."

~

Adda waved her magic weapon and allowed Onslaught to fly in from a small hole she created in her island fortress. The dragon landed by a landing pad next to her bungalow. With a snarl, he gave a cheeky growl to Seer. "How's your pet?"

"He's fine. Don't worry about him. What I need to be worried about is why my ladies found Captain Eltontor's body mutilated and floating in the sea. You do your job like I asked and look into it?"

Onslaught took note at how Adda had the Wind Waker at all times on her whenever he was around her. If she didn't, she'd be the lower pirate in this relationship, not him. At her snark, he growled. "I did. I think you'll find my report quite interesting."

"Well, spit it out."

"One of the people spotted chasing after him was the infamous Captain Corsaire."

"Corsaire? Where is that name familiar..."

"Fuck you, lizard." Seer gave Onslaught the finger, knowing he could get away with it for now. He was not really paying attention to detail until he heard Captain Corsaire's name. His skin tingled. After all this time, his captain was still looking for him?

“He’s the Captain that slew the Kraken.”

“Oh yeah.”

“That’s not all, a white hair Gerudo was seen with him.”

Adda held down her emotions, but she was excited. “My daughter?”

“I’d assume so Adda.”

Seer swallowed thickly, getting nervous. Liz and Lex were always together, so if he saw one, that meant the other was close. He did not want his girls to get hurt. There was no telling what would happen. Adda claimed she wanted the twins here with her, but at what cost? His old crew mates, his daughters, and possibly Bakura... when would all this bloodshed end?

Adda waved him off. “Leave Onslaught. Scour the oceans and find my girls. Alive and unharmed.”

“Very well.”

Onslaught took off, flying through the hole. Adda closed it, and turned back to a Seer, visibly excited. “Come on! Let’s go check in on the girls!”

"... what?" Seer had been so deep in his thoughts, he spaced out for a moment. As Adda dragged him along, he was silent.

Adda snapped her fingers to her magician. "Old one. I want to look in on my girls again."

"Very well. You and the blind man shall see through the ball. Touch it, and your souls will peer in."                                                                                                                                                                          

Adda took a deep breathe and did so. What the two of them saw was Lex on a ship, stuck in her cabin room. She was sitting on the floor and crying, ice forming around her from her emotions. With a yell, she grabbed a pillow, freezing it, and with a throw, it shattered against the wall. "STUPID UNCLE CORSAIRE!"

Meanwhile, looking in on Liz, she was expressing her fire to Revy and Scarlet. "I don't know how long I can keep it up for."

"That's amazing! You're really good at that!"

"Mom, she doesn't need a hype man."

The magic faded as Adda pulled away. Gasping, she looked to Seer like she won the jackpot. "My girls! My girls are TWINROVA!!! That's fantastic! Ooooo that's FANTASTIC!!!"

"..." Seer still said nothing. After 'seeing' his girls, he removed his hand from the ball. This was bad. With magic, Adda would only want the girls even more to use for her benefit. Slowly, he started thinking about a hard choice. If he found a way to kill Adda, she would never be able to have her grasp around the twins. Her people would kill him for it, and he'd never see them again, but it would be worth it. His girls would not have Adda looming over them all their lives, always having to watch their backs.

Adda kissed Seer suddenly, positivity filling her. "This is fantastic Seer! You'll get to see them again. Well, not see, but you get the point. And I'll be able to pass on the legacy I built up for them! They have the power to control the seas! And with the two of them, they'd be unstoppable! Oh YES! THAT'S MY GIRLS!!!"

Adda did a little jig, so excited. She was tantalizingly close to seeing her daughters once more.

Adda treated him as a prize, a pet, a trophy. Perhaps he should play the part. She would not let her guard down now with the girls being so close in reach. He had to be careful. Maybe those years as a slave would pay off later. Manipulation was always part of a brothel slave's game. Seer had to trick her into thinking that he was on her side now. Slowly, but carefully, he would lay out his plan in motion... and attack when the time was right. Emotion... he had to play on emotion. Adda would believe that.

"... maybe... you were right." Seer's eyes were tearing up, and he tried to wipe away the tears that fell. "I never knew the twins would turn out so strong. I'm so proud of them. They've gotten so far." Play the part, play the part, he kept telling himself. "I just... I don't want them to get hurt."

"Seer. I'd never hurt them. I'd kill myself before I laid a hand on them." She put both her hands on his cheeks. "I want to give them the world. That's the least I can do for all the lost time."

"No, not that, I know you won't hurt them!" Seer sighed, trying to appear distressed. "It's just... they're on a ship now. Who knows what the other pirates might do to them. That's what I'm worried about."

"Seer. I'd skin anyone who'd dare lay a finger on them." Adda was brutally serious. She liked how Seer was behaving, giving a sigh. "I'm... I'm really tired. And I do hope they find us, so they can find me."

"I doubt there's anyone out there stupid enough to give them your location, Adda." Seer knew she was buying it so far. Just a little more, see if he could push it. "Even if there was, then... we can't just... sink the ship. They're on it. We'll have to ensure they're safe first. I don't want to risk the twins getting hurt, or even Revy. Scarlet was on the ship too." He looked sad. "Revy grew up with the twins, Adda. I know they wouldn't want their best friend in a fire fight."

"I can capture them all. Maybe... maybe Scarlet can come to her senses too." Adda gave a faint smile. "I've built a paradise Seer. If they just fall in quietly, no one will get hurt. No one."

"I don't want anyone hurt." Seer knew Corsaire's tactics. He memorized them over the years. It had been a long while, but he still recalled every single detail. Adda knew that he was a cook on Corsaire's ship, but what she did not know, was he helped with everyday tasks where he could. Once a pirate, always a pirate, including playing the best part of all; a concerned father. He would use it to his advantage. "There's been too much pain over these years. I just want it all to stop. I just want my girls again." Playing on Adda's heartstrings would be like playing a fiddle. "I want to make sure they're okay. I haven't talked to them in so long, and I don't know what's going on in their life. Are they in love? Do they want to travel? Have they finally learned to ride their horses properly that I bought them so long ago? Do they still have sleepovers with Revy?" His shoulders slumped. "So many unanswered questions... so much time passed." He ran a hand down his face, his voice getting thick. "Magic allows me to see them, but... it doesn't allow me to hold them again."

"We'll hold them soon. Would you like to hold me in bed? It's been so long."

"... I believe that would be nice." Seer rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle. "I've been sort of a dick lately. I'm surprised you'd still want me."

"You have been a dick. And I've been really patient with you." Adda grabbed his hand and lead it to her face.

"... would you believe me if I said I'm sorry?"

“I don’t know...”

"Hrm, well, maybe I can do that thing with my tongue that you like so much and change your mind?" Seer resulted to flirting a little. Adda would definitely fall for that, if she thought he was sincere. "Tug on your hair a little while I take you from behind? You really liked it when I nibbled on your nipples with my sharp teeth." He went on with a list of details, making sure to keep her attention. "Or maybe I should just tease you all over with that vibrating thing you have."

“You playing on my emotions?” She gave him a long look, studying him. “You’re being awfully nice.”

"Maybe I am." Seer shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I'm not. Or maybe I'm just in a good mood since the twins are displaying signs of magic. I mean, if I recall correctly, this... Twinrova thing, it's a big deal in Gerudo culture, right?"

“It makes them demi-gods. Or so I’ve been told.” Adda grinned, trailing a finger down his chest. “How about we just settle on you fucking me until I can’t stand?”

"Is that a challenge?" Seer had a small smirk on his face.

“It is.” Adda tore is shirt to pieces and lead him back to her quarters. A small part of her told her that Seer was playing her. Right now, she didn’t care. She craved this attention at the moment. Why ruin a good thing?

[lethesomething]

Campaign resources: Torotuga, the pirate den

After three days of sailing, land finally came into view. A large island, with a small fortified city on one end, cut off from the rest of the island by steep mountains and dense jungles.  To my dismay, however, the captain curved away from that crest of civilization, turning the ship in a large arc towards the back of the island, where nothing but dense forests and swamp greeted us.

“Hoist the flag” the captain shouted, and one of the crew came out with a piece of black cloth, which he unfurled to show a white painted, rather crude depiction of a turtle. With that, a hush fell over the deck and the ship veered into a large mangrove forest, a maze of brakkish water, low fog and bleached trees. I swear I saw movement in those trees. Little flickers of light, be they lanterns or will o’ wisps, and the occasional glint of steel. It was clear to everyone traveling with me, that we were being watched. (from ‘The Sea-Faring Adventures of Milton Hornswaddle’)

Torotuga is your prototypical Pirate’s Den. It lies on the swampy half of Rhea Island, in the middle of a heavily contested region in the ocean. The island itself ‘belongs’ to the sea-faring and conquering nation of Pardoba, and it holds an outpost in the form of the military fort town of Santa Gasso. However, most of it is densely forested and if not unexplored, then at the least uncontrollable, blocked off as it is from the fort by a sheer mountain range and dense jungles. It is here, deep in a mangrove maze called the Forest of Skeleton Fingers, that you can find the bustling city of Torotuga.

The ship continued on through these treacherous waters, narrowly avoiding collisions with trees and rocks, until we finally reached what I had feared all along, a dead end. It was then that the captain came out and marched up to the bow. “Oy! Open the facking gate, ya crusty cumstain!” To my wonderment, I heard a voice coming from the nearby trees. “State your name and business,  cuntwaddle” “Marston ya old pissdog, you know damn well who I am.” There was a moment of silence, and I held my breath at such signs of incivility, praying for the gods to save me from the arrows that were sure to befall us, when the ship’s captain sighed. “I am Captain Orsric Graverobber Bones, of the Drunken Elephant. Me and my crew kindly request entry,” he said, in a tone that suggested ennui to a point i would not be able to muster. “Good enough for ya, ya vomit covered sea slug?” And with a creaking sound, a wall that had appeared to only be dead trees blocking our path, was lifted, revealing a hitherto unseen waterway further into the forest. (from ‘The Sea-Faring Adventures of Milton Hornswaddle’)

A Safe Harbor

The town of Torotuga holds about 500 semi-permanent residents, a number that can be boosted up to 2.000 by visitors.

The populace holds a few notorious criminals that have settled down far away from the law, as well as travelers and actual colonists that have stuck around. About a third of the permanent residency, however, consists of escaped slaves, either native  to neighboring islands or brought here from far-off places to work on the plantations and farms of Pardoba and a few other nations.

Trade

It is clear almost immediately to any somewhat intelligent adventurer, that the economy of Torotuga is mostly illicid, and largely circular. This is a trade hub and stock-up place for privateers and pirates, though adventuring parties, specialized traders and even certain military groups (of the underground variety) also frequent the place.

The largest trade here is ‘entertainment’. The economy of Torotuga consists for about 60 percent out of brothels and bars. Coming off a boat in the bustling harbor part of the town means  weaving your way through runners and trade deals, to be met by a veritable row of… very friendly people. Men and women beckon you, wearing bright clothes, some quite revealing, and made up with red lips and dark eyes.

Another large trade here are pawn shops or, if they try to be fancy, ‘antiques stores’. On the outskirts of the town you’ll find fishermen and a few farming communities, eking out a living on the edges of the jungle.

Architecture and craft

Torotuga gets most of its supplies from passing ships, and it shows. Most of its buildings are made out of scavenged wood and smelted or otherwise repurposed parts. Newer buildings use a mixture of ancient techniques, such as woven vines, and parts made out of metal or imported bricks.

Everything about this town has a distinct improvisational feel. The furniture and decorations are either made out of barrels, stolen off of ships or built new, with themes that remind you of the cultures native to the islands here. The whole town is a mishmash of styles, techniques and bits and bobs. True master craftsmen, however, are few in number.

There are a few carpenters, mostly specialized in boats. Apart from that you can find some relatively skilled weavers, leather workers and woodworkers, as well as smiths. Any mastercraft weaponry or armor found here is probably found or plundered, though.

It is, however, important to know that you can find Anything here, if you search hard enough. The people of Torotuga are good at finding ways, certainly if there’s coin in it. If you let them know you need a seamstress, for instance, they will absolutely find someone, even if it is the cook’s old nan, to do your thing for a pretty price.

Safety

Torotuga runs on ‘pirate’s honor’, which is to say, controlled anarchy. The place does not have a single point of authority, but instead had several factions who look out for their own. Some of the most feared of these are the Whores Patrol, a group of vigilantes that see to it that the prostitutes of the island can do their jobs safely. The artisans also have a neighbourhood watch of sorts, which is Extremely Protective of its members and most shops and bars will employ a very ostentatious group of guards.

Since there is no justice system, those caught committing a crime against someone in Torotuga will need to appeal to one of the factions or lose their hand and/or life.

Food

Torotuga has a mixture of different cuisines from the islands, mixed with the kind of stuff the pirates would know from home, in so far as this can be found. The different inns and bars serve mostly beer, but will whip you up some soup or bread and cheese, or grilled meat, when asked. Notable delicacies can be found in The Temple Bar, which serves a special stew, made of rice, wheat, sharp spices and seafood. There’s a bunch of not particularly identifiable stuff in there, but it’s very tasty. From food stalls, you can buy a simple type of taco, made of flatbread folded around a mixture of meat or poulty, mixed with random vegetables and spices. Most of the best and cheapest food can be procured from the smaller sellers, such as The Baked Potato and Kulita’s.

Notable shops

The largest pawn shop in town is The Hoard, run by a steel dragonborn, Dimitri Helfdal and his mate, a sapphire dragonborn named Irin. This shop stands in the very center of town and has carved stone walls, seemingly built out of the ruins of some ancient structure that stood here before. It is a fairly large building, with a stone and wood front and a large shop sign bearing a carved wooden dragon head, apparently an old masthead. Inside is a quite literal hoard. Dimitri and Irin tend to get the pick of any treasure troves that come to Torotuga, so you can find the best and most expensive stuff here.

Sulejman Sirk runs the apothecary, the Glass Shoal. It’s meticulously clean and organized, seemingly made out of the hull of a downed ship that was outfitted with a brick and windowed front and plated with iron shales. The centerpiece in this store is a large chandelier, a mobile of glasswork fish surrounding a steel brazier that lights up the place. He has your basic health potions and a Very Expensive set of water breathing things (like, super overpriced, guys). Also stocks an impressive amount of poisons.

Davy Jones Locker is a thrift shop of sorts. The proprietor, Antanen ‘David’ Jonesin, is a halfling that collects the mundane and the useful. The interior of this classic brickwork building is made with a number of treasure chests that have been stacked and arranged along the floor and on tables and sideboards. These things are not what typical pirates care for, but he does good business because they do tend to be things sailors Need. His store has stuff like barrels of rope, caltrops, a few smoke bombs found on drowned assassins. He has oil skin bags to keep books and letters safe from the water, sealing wax, forgery and climbing kits, a few block and tackles, fire stones, that sort of thing. Nothing magical, nothing glamorous, but exactly the kind of thing you need to survive.

The Silt Reader is a very small book shop that specializes in literature and poetry. Mostly second hand, a lot of them waterlogged. This store is owned by a half-elven woman, Runa Pavalur,   who keeps it very organized, with tomes neatly stacked on shelves and arranged by category. Each book has been outfitted with a bookmark made of thin rope, with a little card attached to it that gives a short summary of what the book is about. Most of the books in The Silt Reader are travel diaries and novels, a fair amount of those of a ‘popular’ variety. This is why, apart from categories like Studies, Travel, Political etc, the shop has shelves named things like the Rose section (hetero romance), the Heather section (mlm romance), the Calla section (wlw romance) and the Orchid section (straight up porn).

For maps, it is best to go is the Crow’s Nest Cartographer. This is a very small house that has one entire wall made up of shelves holding a large amount of rolled maps. It is owned by two gnomish brothers: Illilniss and Omulnis. They will also pay for coordinates of places that have been discovered, or were hitherto unknown.

Lavar’s Smelter: Lavar is a fire genasi, who isn’t too crafty, but is very good at, well, smelting. He’s the one that melts down all the anchors and random steel and iron that is hauled here, something that should not be possible with a smithy as small as his. Is smithy doubles as a blacksmith for basic tools. When asked, he can shoe a horse and provide stables overnight.

Shell and Shield: The only somewhat skilled smith in town. The Shell and Shield is owned by a tortle named Perrahar, whose main trade is tools. She sells non-magic weapons and some simple armor as well but mostly she’s very interested in learning new things. Bring her some new metal that she’s never seen before and she’ll happily craft new things out of it.

Other establishments

There is a church, The Temple Bar, dedicated to Dionysus, the god of wine. It’s not clear if this is a sanctioned church or not. Mostly it appears to be one of the largest bars in Torotuga. Its purveyor is a dwarf and beer connoisseur named Mazzoum Hornmail. The interior is decorated with fake grape vines and filled with assorted furniture. This one is fairly fancy, with a little orchestra playing, and a dance floor. The rooms upstairs can be rented by the hour. The bigger ones are outfitted as meeting rooms, serving the purpose of neutral ground for pirates to strike deals or talk strategy. The smaller ones tend to just have a bed and a washing tub.

Despite the name, The Baked Potato does not sell potatoes. It does sell yams and sweet potatoes, stuffed with a variety of fillings and baked in an oven.

Kulita’s sells a lot of fried things, including fried fish and fried chicken, combined with dumplings, corn bread and pickled vegetables or stewed beans

The local bath house is called the White Whale. It rents out large, round tubs in private rooms to interested parties. These are pretty nice and use, important, ground water, so any visitor can finally get all that salt out. Rooms are outfitted with scented oils and soaps and come with one complimentary towel. The rooms are priced fairly reasonably, but the rate goes up quite a bit if you opt for one of the companions or masseuses that are offered.

The Sickly Shrew: A Very Seedy bar and one of the cheaper establishments to acquire a room for the night. Also a great place to find, like, a specialist to kill someone for you.

The Foghorn Inn: The most boring and basic of inns that Torotuga has to offer, if you’re into that kinda thing.

Assorted locations

Thaba’s Hut

Take the road out of town, past the farm fields that have been planted here, and into the swamp. Follow the set of foot bridges and walkways, till you reach an island, a clearing in the dense foliage. Standing here is an ancient looking hut, built on stilts. It has a thatched roof and a porch, with stairs leading up. The railing of the porch and the stairs looks solid from afar, but upon closer inspection, they are laden with offerings of a sort. Little dolls hang from string tied to the wood, shells, glass vials, trinkets and shiny objects, all tied to the outside of this house. In front of the hut, a small crackling fire burns in a fire pit, tended to by a tall, broad-shouldered man. This is Thaba’s hut, and if you are in need of special magical services, this is where you go.

You pay Thaba for entry, and for the privilege to see the wisewoman inside. Should you enter, you’ll find that the entire place is overstuffed with jars and more dolls and trinkets. A bunch of objects, too, are suspended from the ceiling, much like they were wrapped around the railings. Some tools hanging from twine off a crossbeam, glass and brass pitchers, something that you very much hope is a wig. There’s dried herbs, ham, but also bones, something that looks like a dead snake. There’s… a lot. The hut is where Iyabo, sitting in the middle of the floor in a magic circle, performs magical services. Most likely this will be along the lines of identifying items, removing or placing curses etc. Nahin’s fighting pit

Walking around town, you may hear a number of shouts and just general noise, originating to a dirt square just on the outskirts. Here, you’ll find a small mound of dirt that serves as a brawling ring. Two figures are squaring off here. One is an apparent halfling in monk clothes, fairly lean build, the other, on this day, is a goliath, a large, looming tank of a man, in somewhat soiled sailor’s clothing. They’ve drawn quite the crowd. On one end you see what seems to be the rest of the goliath’s crew, a number of sailors jeering and egging him on. On the side of the smaller figure are also supporters of a kind, albeit a bit more demure. You see a number of humanoids, all in fairly ratty clothing, most of them dark skinned and weathered looking. They’ll occasionally clap but they’re mostly looking. Bets are being made by the crowd, with bookies walking around trying to get any visitors to have a little go. But as soon as the fight starts, a heavy groan goes through the crowd and it becomes apparent just how skewed this match-up is. Within the first second, the goliath has already been kicked in the face. The smaller figure jumps up onto his chest, kicks him in the chin and backflips off, down to the ground. The goliath swings and the smaller figure leans back easily to avoid it, jumping up over a second swing, before turning in mid air and swiping at the shoulder, following that up with two swift kicks. This goes on for a little while, before the goliath says ‘You  little shit’, and he pulls out a crossbow. The crowd starts booing. You hear the people behind the smaller figure yell ‘unarmed only!’ but the fighter themselves holds up their hand. “Learn’, they say, and sinks into a defensive stance. The goliath shoots once, twice, point blank, and you watch as the smaller fighter plucks both out of the air before they reach. As the goliath starts reloading, angry now, the other fighter moves. They jump up onto the crossbow and run up their opponent’s arm, before leaning down and kicking the goliath in the sternum. The giant goes rigid, for a moment, their eyes at this point confused and fearful, as the other fighter jumps down, dashes around and swipes at a spot right behind the knee. The goliath. Topples. The crowd erupts in shouts and you can see a well dressed man, apparently the goliath’s captain, walk up to the smaller figure and hand them a pouch. “Sorry about that,” he says. “Temper, that one. But you won fair and square.” The smaller figure bows and returns to their friends, as the crew, with some trouble, pull up the goliath and the crowd slowly disperses.

Kobinahin, or Nahin for short, is a higher level monk that fights for coin and has a little outdoor dojo going. Nahin is always itching to learn new tricks and will gladly match or teach adventurers.

Characters

Merchants and assorted service people

Thaba: A tall, broad-shouldered dark-skinned man, clean shaven and wearing modest but well-kept clothes. He has milky white eyes and a deep voice. He serves as a guardian or manager of sorts to Iyabo. He can usually be found sitting in front of the fire pit by his house.

Iyabo: This wise woman is a multiclass druid – bard with some wizard thrown in there. She is a tiny woman, potentially gnomish in nature, but it’s hard to tell. Her hair is quite a bit longer than her body, a mass of tiny braids, embellished with rope, ribbons, glass beads and brass rings that obscures her shape almost completely. From what you can tell, the hair may have been dark in color once, but it’s been painted with clay. Individual strands are red, ochre, green or a chalky white, the whole thing giving the impression of a gloomy, if colorful, bead curtain.  The hair makes it almost impossible to see her face, but when her arms emerge from the curtain, her skin appears to be greyish blue, mostly because that, too, is rubbed with some kind of dust. Her hands are studded with different rings, her wrists covered in bracers and rows of bangles. Iyabo jingles when she walks, and you can discern the rustle of fabric, as well as the sound of many, many necklaces or chains clinking together. She doesn’t so much talk as whisper harshly , also with vague southern accent.

Dimitri Helfdal: A man of smallish stature, stocky and broad, with medium gray skin. Mid forties and fairly jovial, incredibly curious about new treasures and things. He wears a monocle and light linen, embroidered pants, with a sleeveless shirt. Dark grey scales line his shoulders, hands and head, glinting with a brushed steel look that makes him seem , in a weird way, armored. He does not have a tail.

Irin: A dragonborn woman of dark olive skin, fairly tall and with a long tail that whips back and forth between the folds of her long skirt. She wears a beautiful silk tunic, with cropped pants lines in copper thread and a long skirt consisting of four almost see-through loose panels. On her head, and down her back and tail are long crystalline dark blue spikes and the scales that adorn her skin are strangely see through, giving the impression of dark blue gems. It also seems like she has filed some of them to resemble jewelry, the ones around her throat and down her chest looking like a very elaborate necklace.

Sulejman Sirk: A black man in his late thirties, with corn rows tied into his hair, and a cropped full beard. He tends to smile widely and has a prominent gold tooth. He has several gold earrings in one ear and wears a dark grey v-neck kaftan of sorts, with embroidery on the shoulders.

Runa Pavalur: A red haired half-elven woman, fairly young looking, very pale with freckles. Basic hippie attitude, she wears what appear to be several crocheted tablecloths stitched together, and her hair falls down her back in two long braids. Speaks in a gentle, slow  tone and has very obviously read every single book in the store.

Illilniss and Omulnis: Gnome brothers, both with heavy mustaches, kindof tanned skin and an almost inky blue hair. They finish each others sentences and then get grumpy about it.

Antanen ‘David’ Jonesin: An elderly halfling with salt-and-peper hair that poofs up around his head like a cotton ball. Wears tiny round glasses and looks rather clerical, but very businessy attitude. His voice is clear and fast, like an american radio dj.

Mazzoum Hornmail: A very serious dwarven man who looks jovial and fat and jolly. He gets quite stern when people don’t treat him with the right amount of respect. It is said Mazzoum has spent years sailing the oceans, and kinda just settled down here because he got tired of the floor moving.

Kobinahin: A dark skinned halfling monk of indeterminate gender. Dark, golden ochre skin, long black hair usually tied in a ponytail. Fairly elegant features. They wear a dark grey jumpsuit with cropped pants and sleeves tied with cloth strips. It is cinched in at the waist with a large strip of cloth. Kobinahin fights for coin and essentially teaches the prostitutes and the escaped slaves self-defense. It’s not clear why they left home to travel the world and fight. (the reason is this DM needed to introduce the Monk class). Speaks in serious, shortish sentences. Very no-nonsense.

Lavar: A fire genasi with tanned skin and flame red hair who serves as a smith. A practical sort who, despite his fiery nature, doesn’t really get upset easily. Always looking for find new ways to make coin.

Perrahar: A seemingly young tortle, though her shield is quite damaged with little black spots. Very curious in nature but extremely chill in attitude. Speaks Very Slowly and pretty damn deadpan. Very little gets to her.

Back-up NPC’s

Loughlin Nic Cadhla: An older woman, lots of scars, with frizzy brown curls in almost an afro, and pale freckles skin. Hard of hearing, from standing next to cannons most of her life. Retired pirate.

Tran Phu Nguyen: A forty-something man who is immaculately dressed and must have been utterly gorgeous when younger, still quite handsome.  Ex-prostitute.

Hamisi: A slender, dark skinned man, bald with a short beard. He’s missing an eye and has some horrific scarring, mostly on his wrists that you can see. Missing two fingers on his left hand. Wearing a loose shirt and simple cropped pants, no shoes.

[aithne]

(Illume) Tomika's Letters, 7/28 - 8/6: Rivers of Fire

7/28/1583 Skyhome

Dear Lady Yukiko,

I am glad to hear that your Lord told you about your child in advance of my letter. Of course, the fact that he refuses to say who the father is is still distressing, but I am glad he's to blame for that distress and not I.

Most interesting discussion today. Reiko had gone out last night, hunting with Ito, and came back as we were breaking our fast and discussing what to do next. Her asepect was extraordinarily troubled, and she was still without Ito. I find it odd how used I've gotten to the male kitsune being her (tall, redheaded) shadow, so quickly.

She looked around, and said, "Um, I think we have...a problem."

It transpired that she and Ito had gone out hunting the night before as a sort of graduation exercise; she's been training him in control, so he doesn't automatically kill everyone he sleeps with. But when their prey had fallen asleep, and he'd thought Reiko had fallen asleep as well, something had taken him over. And he went straight to Akemi, one of the people on the other side; more worrisome, she was the mage who was in charge of making another crystal to control the Thrykreen.

He told them everything he knew--which was quite a bit. Including where you and Akechi are, I am afraid. (Not that this is surprising to you, as i know we sent a message as soon as we knew.)

Reiko didn't want us to kill him, of course; though she claimed no particular attachment, I could see her playing with that little white ball that she fiddles with when she's nervous. She'd left Ito on the ship and come back to Skyhome alone, probably to keep us from doing something foolish.

There were arguments for killing him, of course; Reiko, seeing him as a possible solution to her race's current nearly extinct state, argued for taking him to the Demonbane and seeing if he could do anything with the male kitsune. She said, "I don't want to kill him until i know what he's for," and I somewhat had to agree with that.

There followed a long philosophical discussion about the role of immortals in the world, and whether a male kitsune was a good idea at all. The general consensus was no, but the consensus also was that we should take Ito to someone who knew more about these things, that person being Lord Takumi, your father.

It was fascinating to watch the different personalities in the discussion. Hiroshi was arguing for keeping Ito with us; Panda, having an apparent fit of crankiness, didn't care if he lived or died, but said that because he's betrayed us, he can no longer be allowed to run with the retinue; Tadaki couldn't quite see why we didn't just kill him, considering that he's a demon. Reiko was asked why it was that kitsune should be allowed to live, and was unable to come up with an answer other than, "We have always been, and we will always be. That is why! Why allow hengeyokai to live? Why allow humans, for that matter?"

Panda just shook her head and said, "Hengeyokai don't eat people, though."

We kept arguing, and finally Panda, who was short-tempered and seemed fed up with the whole thing, said in response to the kitsune protesting that foxes don't normally kill the people they feed on, "Look. Reiko. You're a nice kitsune. We like you. And how many people have you killed?"

Reiko dropped her gaze. "Ah...many."

"And you're a nice one. As far as I know, most kitsune aren't nice, Reiko. Who's to say this one will be?"

The vixen muttered a response and turned away, her cheeks burning as if Panda's reminder of her past had been a slap.

We elected to keep Ito unconscious with sleep potions and head north. Funitsu needed to go that way anyway, and there may be much to learn from Lord Takumi.

By the way, happy news--Panda is indeed pregnant! We all suspected, what with the craving for picked ginger, but she confirmed it for us today.

North for a week or so, now, to Sapporo. I will convey your greetings to your father when I see him.

Warmest regards, Soshi Tomika

7/4/1583 Sapporo (sailing towards Okushiri-to)

Dear Yukiko,

Fine wind blowing quick the salt spray beckons the gull toward the fire island.

Alas, I am not very much of a poet, but thank you for the copy of Sei Shonagon's work. (Poetry is the one art in which I have never excelled; my father was most disappointed when he found I have little talent for it.) I have been remiss in writing, I know, but there has been very little happening for the last week; Panda has been cranky, the kitsune has been scarce, Funitsu appears to be oblivious to all of my attempts to flirt with him, Haku has been silent, and Tadaki has been restless. The only two who don't seem to be somewhat discontent are Gryphon and the librarian.

Who is, at this point, not much of an archivist. He'd knock stacks of scrolls right over without even thinking!

We pulled into to Sapporo's harbor this morning and requested to see Lord Takumi. He granted us audience. I saw a brush of a white kimono patterned with summer herons, moving quickly out of a doorway on the other side of your audience chamber--your mother, the Lady Takumi, perhaps? I regret to say that I did not see her other than that one flash.

My husband talked for a time with Lord Takumi, discerning that the most likely place for the Scorpion samurai to be is Okushiri-to, an island off the southwest corner of Hokkaido. He also said that Akemi, who is working on making another Thrykreen control crystal, is likely on that island, as it's where he went to make the original control crystal, four hundred years ago.

After that was settled, he asked if there was anything else, and Reiko stepped out from behind Gryphon and said, "I have something. A request."

He fixed her with his piercing glare and said, slowly, "I will listen to you for Lord Soshi's sake. Speak."

I do not know if anyone else noticed her hands shaking. She is indeed terrified of your father, and for good reason. I noticed, for the first time, the similarity in them. It is less anything physical than it is in their eyes. They have the same gaze, unnervingly direct. And they were dressed as mirror images of each other, seemingly on accident; his kimono gold with designs picked out in red thread, marvelously subtle, and her habitual scarlet silk, shot through with yellow and gold.

She explained the situation with Ito, and Panda brought the sleeping kitsune in and laid him on the floor. Lord Takumi said, "Yes, I had a hand in creating him. Why?"

"What is he for? We might kill him, but not before we know what he was made for."

He chuckled, a little. "He was a trap, kitsune. A trap laid for not you but others. Though he seems to have caught you, right enough." Lord Takumi, the man known as the Demonbane, shrugged. "It was a project I was working on with the old Emperor. There are tales of two kitsune who have ten thousand tails apiece; it's probably more like a hundred, but they are the oldest of the kitsune. They are the kitsune gods, more or less. A race never dies until its gods are also dead. He was to find them, bed them, and kill them in their sleep. Then, it would be only a matter of time until the rest of the race was extinguished."

"He has been somehow changed by the other side. I was hoping you could fix that."

"Perhaps. And then what? I cannot release him as he is back to you."

"Then what can you do?" The kitsune and her father were sparring, back and forth. I got the impression that neither was truly winning this match, quite yet.

"I could change his body to match his spirit. He would become a she. But again, I could not release him as he is back to you. I am, after all, sworn to eliminate kitsune."

Panda spoke up at this point. "Change Ito like you changed Reiko. Give him a conscience and the ability to feel guilt."

Reiko said, a bit plaintively, "Death would be kinder, I think. But, if you gave him the choice, if he decided of his own will that he would rather live crippled than die..."

"I can do that. Reiko's humanity was a side effect of my linking my own life force to hers, but I understand how it works now. Give him some humanity, make him into one like Reiko, and change him to a female. If that is your will, samurai. For you and for the Lord Soshi, I'll do this."

The kitsune was glaring at her father. I believe the two of them define the term "dysfunctional relationship".

Panda tilted her head. "Your life force is linked to Reiko's?"

He smiled. "I am very, very old, and I do not die. Did you wonder why? My own immortality is linked to hers. And if she dies, I die, as well. She has the power to end my life in her hands...yet I notice she has not done so yet. And for every year I live, more of her kind die at the hands of my Thrykreen."

(Yukiko, I am sorry, but your father seems to be a very cruel man sometimes. Brilliant in that cruelty, but still cruel. Though the kitsune is a demon, somehow his torment of her seems...excessive.)

He rose and walked over to Ito, looking down on him, frowning. "There is something different about him. We did not bind him like this."

Panda handed him her orb, through which one can see the true nature of things. He took it without comment and peered through it at the male kitsune, muttering to himself. He handed the orb back and said, "I'm going to have to take a day or two to unravel this. Someone has altered him, and I don't know why right now. Lord Soshi mentioned that you have an errand to run; by the time you return, I should have him changed."

We agreed, and then filed out, leaving Ito sleeping on the floor. I saw Reiko look back over her shoulder briefly, shudder, and then skip forward, catching up with Gryphon and putting her hand on his back.

Off to Okushiri-to this afternoon; we should be there tomorrow morning, it's that close.

With much affection, Tomika

8/5/1583 at sea, between Okushiri-to and Sapporo

Dear Yukiko,

Okushiri-to is a foul place, smelling of sulfur. We sent the ship Shrike away for the day, and sent Tadaki in to scout for us.

He came back, saying that there was a tunnel leading into the volcano itself. Down the tunnel was the missing samurai, and what seemed to be a Scorpion general, which meant that these were our group of people. Into the harbor we went, taking over the one ship in the harbor, and then went into the lava tunnels, the heat and the stink increasing as we headed further into the volcano.

On the way in, we passed some decomposing corpses that were lying near the entrance of the tunnel. Funitsu asked me to make one of them talk, and I raised one and made it dance for me. Tadaki, who was standing near me, muttered, "That would be less disturbing if you didn't look so cheerful about it."

The corpse had committed seppuku rather than follow what he considered a dishonorable command--to break a stone seal, behind which was all manner of terrible things. Another of the corpses had broken the seal and had been burned to death by lava flowing from behind it.

We crept down, and saw the general and the Scorpion samurai building a bridge over a river of lava, towards a stone wall that had a large hole broken in it. We estimated that they had another four hours before the bridge was done. We definitely wanted to get there before they did, because that general was controlled by a piece of the twilight spirit, and as such was likely up to no good.

With that in mind, the librarian, Haku, and Funitsu used their swords, the ones so sharp they cut holes in reality itself. We gave them a minute and then went through the doorway ourselves. We didn't know where we'd come out, but instead had to trust the three who were leading us.

The doorway opened into a crystal city, and before us there were two wu jen, both looking a little singed (Tadaki's new favorite spell is Fireball), and one was bleeding from the librarian's sword cut. One was holding an orb that looked much like Tadaki's--only this one was a full orb, rather than the half of one that the Sparrow has. Before more than a couple of minutes passed, they took down both Reiko and the librarian, and the one with the orb, who we found later was named Akemi, took over the Thrykreen we had with us, commanding them to kill us.

And the Thrykreen attacked us. One of the enemy wu jen--Kumiko--had gone down, but we suddenly had our hands full with the mantids. Jeron, the one who leads the rest, reached down and picked up Reiko, and--was feeding her a healing potion? Surely my eyes were mistaken. He is a mantid, why would he help the creature who his race was meant to kill?

The remaining wu jen collapsed, her throat cut--but by who? Tadaki had her orb, sudenly, and the Thrykreen stopped attacking us. The Sparrow looked pleased with himself, and we surmised that he had stopped time once again. And Reiko opened her eyes, looking very surprised indeed to find herself being held by Jeron. He set her down, and she thanked him.

It turns out that he is the only one not bound to the orb, but bound by honor to Tadaki himself. Evidently, under our noses, Reiko and Jeron have been striking up something that is tenatively like a friendship. Her curiosity is often enough to overwhelm her fear, or her common sense. Perhaps both.

Off the two wu jen, we took a number of vials, a cloak, a wand, and the aforementioned orb. My husband decided to "test" the cloak by putting it on the librarian. It didn't seem to do anything to him, at least at first.

Then we had to figure out what to do next. We explored the crystal city a bit while we talked. Funitsu said, "Hm. There seems to be something here--ah, the corridor is an illusion."

And as we each wrestled with the illusion in our minds, the real corridor shimmered into view.

It was lined with what looked to be statues.

There are a few things that touch a primal fear in us. Even without knowing exactly what they were, we knew that they were to be feared. Perhaps a racial memory of ancestors killed by these things. They were huge--eight or nine feet tall, seemingly made out of crystal, and almost as wide across as they were tall--and they lined the corridor looking like nothing so much as sleeping death.

They were Warresh. There were perhaps a thousand of them.

A set of carvings in one of the corridors told the tale. The Dark Son, the sprit who is currently possessing Arenro, was given the Warresh by the gods in the great long ago. He set them with the task of serving humankind. Unfortunately, they escaped control, and went mad, killing countless humans.

The Bright Son then created the Thrykreen, who were tasked with destroying the Warresh. The Thrykreen overwhelmed the Warresh by sheer numbers, slaughtering them by the thousands. In the end, the Dark Son took the thousand who were left and sealed them in here, for a future use.

From what we could tell, there were about a hundred missing. We do not know where they went, not yet.

One of the Warresh woke. The librarian seemed to be speaking to it, and it spoke back. The Thrykreen were keeping a very wary eye on it, but under Tadaki's control, they did not attack, though I could tell that they sincerely wanted to. The librarian seemed to have firm control on them, though they still made us all nervous.

And a plan was born to take back Funitsu's samurai without spilling a drop of blood.

Once more with the sword's door, we appeared on the bridge before General Katsuro. Funitsu was in the lead, and he was backed up by two of the hulking Warresh. He snapped out, "Katsuro, surrender the samurai to me."

The two men stared at each other. Katsuro was a tall, thin man, his face dripping with sweat from the heat. He looked at Funitsu and said, slowly, "Lord...Soshi? I did not hear your brother...."

"I am. And you are ordered to give over your command to me." Calm, implacable, in that moment I came closer to loving Funitsu than I have ever before. The potential for steel in him finally showed itself.

Reluctantly, the general assented, nodding. Then Funitsu said, "Let us drink, then, to victories won."

In his hand was two vials of the true source. He handed one to ghe general, and both drank.

Katsuro shuddered and staggered, almost falling as the spirit fled his body. He opened his eyes and said, "Lord...Funitsu? Where did you come from?"

My husband asked, "Do you remember anything of the last three months?"

"Not much. Flashes. Movement. I--" He shook his head, and straightened. "Lord, what are your orders?"

Funitsu thought. "We'll send you to Kyoto, and from there you can march south. We have a method of travel that is quick, but you may find it strange. You're needed to fortify Miyazaki; the Crab is readying its pincers. I'll tell you what I know, on the way."

We loaded up the three boats we now have--the Benevolent, Shrike, and the third, as yet unnamed, ship--with the samurai, and as I speak we are sailing towards Sapporo. Before we left, we finished the bridge, put back four of the six Warresh that the librarian had with him, and sealed up the crystal city once more, destroying the bridge behind us.

I am glad to be away from the stinking island. I certainly hope we never have reason to go there again.

Much affection, Tomika

8/6/1583 Sapporo

Dear Yukiko,

A few more details today; I am confident we will see you soon, so I am merely writing this down so I can be sure you have a full report. We returned to Sapporo in the middle of the day today, and went to see your father, Lord Takumi. Mostly, we wished to see if Ito had decided that living was worth being afflicted with conscience, regroup, and decide what to do next.

Again, we were ushered into the Phoenix receiving chamber by a pair of unsmiling samurai. The Phoenix Lord said, "Ah, I see you've returned. Victorious, I assume? Good. The kitsune elected to live--I'll have her fetched, now. It seems she was bound magically to someone named Akemi, who died yesterday. Your work, I imagine. That tie needed to still exist, so I bound her to Reiko."

The Lord's visage turned once again severe, and he looked down at Reiko. "I've bound her to you as a daughter. One of these days, kitsune, you may discover what that means."

The former Ito was brought in, walking unbound between a pair of guards. She looked nervous and perhaps the slightest bit awkward.

I am sure you will meet the new kitsune soon enough, Yukiko, but she is exceptionally lovely to look upon. Skin flawless as a white jade cup, hair the same depthless black as Reiko's, falling to the backs of her knees. She was smaller as a female than a male, still almost head taller than Reiko, eyebrows like willow leaves and graceful, long-fingered hands. The only thing that was the same about her was her eyes, the startling light green of spring leaves, looking warily at us.

Reiko went to her, clasping her hands, speaking to her in a low voice. They briefly rested their foreheads together--startling, the intimacy of that one movement--and then returned to the rest of us. Reiko looked up at her father, amber eyes unreadable. "Thank you."

"May you have joy of her," he said, and it sounded not like blessing but condemnation. "After all, I have had such joy of my own kitsune daughter."

At those words, he pushed up the sleeves of his kimono to show Reiko--and us--his arms. Scarred to the point where there was more scar than skin, his arms were a record of pain, written in his skin.

The kitsune lifted her chin, and unexpectedly, shoved up her own sleeves. On them were long cuts, perhaps eight or ten of them--some of them nearly healed, others still raw and scabbed. They were obviously self-inflicted.

Why did none of us know she was doing this to herself? I remember the shock in her eyes when Winter told her of Lord Takumi's habit of cutting himself whenever she killed someone. But it seems unthinkable that she would follow in his footsteps.

Silence had fallen over the chamber, and into the silence Reiko spoke. "I meant to tell you, father. I pay for my own sins." And she turned and walked out. The newly female Ito hesitated and then followed her out.

Awkward silence was left in her wake. She tends to do that. No manners at all, and little sense of propriety. Funitsu picked up the thread of conversation, and after smoothing the incident over, we took our leave.

Tonight, I believe we will see you as we transit the Scorpion samurai to where they will be more useful. I hope, anyway. We all miss you, Yukiko.

Today we have triumphed, but it seems to be a very thin thread indeed.

Warmest affection, Tomika

Quotes:

"And she's sort of cranky, too." "I'm not cranky! I'm NOT CRANKY AT ALL. WHY DO YOU THINK I'M CRANKY?" --Reiko and Panda

"I've been praying to the wrong ancestors. Fuck me!" "That's okay. I forgive you." --Panda and Reiko

"Graham...what are you doing with the cleaver?" "Nothing..." "Don't lie." --Bryan and Graham

"There's a fine line between hostility and worship, sometimes." --Funitsu

"So do you want my considered opinion?" "Sure, Mr. Barbarian." "I think they're trolls." "I never would have thought that." --Hiroshi and Funitsu

"It's not Funitsu's fault that a quarter of a mile is 440 yards!" --Derek

"We figured you were pregnant. All that pickled ginger." --Tadaki (as I recall. The reason this is funny is because Laura, who plays Panda, loves pickled ginger.)