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sidomira · 4 years

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Wordlist and phrases of Elder Speech

In Poland we have a wikia, where someone completed all words and phrases od elven language from the books. I wasn't able to find them in English, so I did it by maself, with help of bab.la, context reverso and google translate, together with my own (little) knowledge.

To all my friends and readers from Poland - please, If I missed some meaning, or did something wrong, correct me. And I ask the ones from Poland, because polish was the origin language

(deleted from ao3, cause they don’t accept anything that isn’t fiction)

A'báeth – kiss

Abb – a place where something ends to bond with something bigger (example: the place where river is connecting with sea)

Addan/Adan – to dance, dance, dancer

Adhart – ahead

Aedd – crumb

Aefder – later

Aecáemm – to follow

Aen – from, to, on

Aen'drean – to enter

Aenye – fire, firely

Aenyell'hael – baptism of fire

Aenyeweddien – Child od Fire, commonly Spark

Aep – from (in meaning of be from some place or family), son, descentand

Aep – to them

Aesledde – sledding

Aespar – to shot

Aëte – summer

Aevon – river

Aine – light

An – small, smaller, indefinite kind

An'givare – spy, informator

Arainne – sparrowhawk

Ard (lat. aardus) – high, the highest, mountain, peak

Arse – ass

A'taeghane – today

Ayd – no

Beag – a few

B'eanshie – phantom, banshee

Beanna (irl. bean) – woman

Belean'graec – important (this), important (a lot of things), expected, expectansy,

Belleteyn – blooming

Birke – vernal equinox

Blathan – garland, flowers (genitive: „blathanna”)

Bleidd – wolf

Bloed – blood

Bloede – bloody, damn, fucking

Broggha, Breoga – frog, froggie

Brokiloéne – from Brokilon

Bynnen – elven bread

Caed – forest, grove

Cáelm – calm, calmly, quiet, slowly, silently, calmly, to calm

Cáemm – go, come

Cáen – can (do)

Caer – fortress, stronghold (in Skellige’s dialekt, it was wrongly: „Kaer”; this form became common among humans)

Cáerme – fate, destiny

Carn – barrow, hole, holes

Carraigh – rock (huge one)

Ceadmil – Welcome (to someone)

Cerbin (lat. corvus) – raven

Cinerea – żyrytwa (complicated thing, I can’t translate it, because it is too deep into culture)

Col – pass (in mountains)

Coram – lion

Corrason – heart

Creasa –necessarily, duty, inevitably, obligatory

Crevan – Fox

Daerienn – sorceress (she-wizard), she-magician

Daetre – back (like, go back)

Dana – girl/miss (a lady before marriage)

Darganfod – discovery

Darl'len – read

Dearg – red

Dearme – Steep (you, go to Steep), to sleep, good night

Deireadh – end, who end smth

Deith – flame

Deithwen – white flame

Dh'oine – human

Dhu – black, dark

Dice (z łac. dicere) – to speak

Divedde – stand(to fight)

Dol – valley, Valley (between mountains), dimple

D'yaebl – Devie

Eatewedd – summer-alike child, summer’s child

Eimyr – hedgehog

Elaine – beautiful

Elle – alder tree

En – idefinite article

Enid – daisy

Ess – be

Esse – to be (future simple)

Essea – I am

Esseath – you are

Evall – horse

Evelienn – etery (about people), everyone

Feain – The Sun

Feainnewedd – Sun’s Child (figuratively about Sunflower)

Fen – swamp, wetland/swampland

Foilé – insane

Folie – rage

Gaeth – potral, gate

Gar'ean – attention/warning, watch out

Geas – swear-curse, curse, howl

Gláeddyv (irl. cleddyf) – sword

Glean – Lower, low, short

Gleanna (irl. gleann) – valley

Glossae – to look

Glyswen – White river

Gwendeith – white fire

Gwenllech – white cliffs

Gwinoedd – elven whine

Gwyn (z irl. gwyn) – white

Gwynbleidd – White Wolf

Gvaedyn – prud-brave, (difficult to translate)

Gvalch'ca (lat. falco) – Falka, she-falcon

Gynvael – ice

Hael –

greeting, health

Haela – medicine

Hanse – hanza, pack of friends

Hav'caaren – "intranslatable word, which is associated with greed/avarice; havekars

Hen – old, older

Hoel – hole, commonly: ass

Ichaer – blood

Imbaelk – germination/sprouting

Inis (wel. ynys) – island

Invaerne – Winter

Lammas – maturation

Lara – seagull

Lionors – lionesse

Llamas – matured, aging,

Loa'then – hatred

Loc (z łac. lac) – lake

Loc'lah – Lady of The Lake

Luned – girl, daughter

Me – I, my, mine, me

Méadbh (propably comes from: ang. meadow, eld-english mædwe) – meadow-alike

Mear'ya – Maria

Meáth – to meet

Mid – middle

Midaëte – summer solstice

Midinváerne – winter solstice

Milva – kania ruda (Bird specie) (from latin „Milvus milvus”)

Minne – love

Mire – to look at

Mistle (z ang. mistletoe) – waxwing, paszkot (bird specie)

Modron – mother (Crach an Craite called Calanthe like this but she wasn't his mother)

Morc – book, book (like book 1 of serię)

Morvudd – enemy

Muire – sea

Naev'de – nine

Neén – no

Pavienn – monkey

Pest – disease, plague, Bad charm/spell

Pherian – Niziołek

Que (z łac. que) – what

Raenn – to run

Rhena (z łac. regina) – queen

Rhenawedd – Child of the queen

Roethainne – redanian

Ruadhri – readers

Salah – (you) pray

Saov – spirit, ghost, soul

Savaed – elven month, 1/8 of year

Scoia'tael (it. scoiattolo) – squirrels

Seidhe – hill

Shaent – to sing

Skrekk – rat

Sledd – sled

Sor'ca – Sister ( diminutive of „sister” in fact.)

Spar – to shot

Spar'le – shot (you, shot (this))

Squaess – to be sorry to someone, to forgive

Squaess'me – I'm sorry , forgive me

Straede – way, path

Táedh – bard, poet

Tearth – fear, to be feared

Tedd – time, age, time (at day, like morning)

Thaess – keep silent (order), keep silent (also order :D)

Thaesse - shut you up

Tirth – boar

Tor (z fr. tour) – tower

Torc'h – alszaband

Treise – strenght, vigor, energy

Tvedeane – 12, dozen

Tuathe – whisper

Twe – two, two (of them)

Uniade – connection(In some meaning: relationship), reunion (with someone)

Va – to go

Va'en – trip, journey

Vaer'trouv – zawierzyć (impossible to translate, something like "to give trust to someone" but not at all), to trust (somebody)

Va faill – farewell

Va vort – go (forever), go away

Vara – merchandise

Varh'he – whore, prostitute

Vatt'ghern – witcher

Velen – autumnal equinox

Veloë – fast/quick, quickly

Voe'rle – to stop (doing) , to stop (someone)

Vort – far (away), dalej, still, yet, precz

Vrihedd – freedom

Wedd – child

Weddin – child (zdrobnienie od „wedd”)

Wen – white (simplified form of „gwyn” usually occuring as głównie jako suffix)

Woed, Woéd, Woedd – forest, Wood

Xin'trea – Cintra

Yeá – so (so as)

Yghern – skolopendromorf

Yn – on, through, przedimek określony

Ys – down (direction)

Ysgarthiad – shit, cholera

Zireael – swallow

Zvaere – to promise

#elder speech #elven dictionary #Witcher #aen seidhe #wordlist

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cricketnationrise · 3 years

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Quarantine Reads Part 7

151. The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver: one of my mom’s buddy read pick. alternating pov. accidental baby acquisition. road tripping.

152. His Majesty’s Dragon by Naomi Novik: HOW did I miss that Naomi Novik had a whole dragon series??? HOWMST??? these are seriously right up my alley: dragons can talk and are partners with their riders, some dragons only let LADIES ride them (!!!), alternate history. plus there’s like 9 OF THEM??? amaze.

153. A Conspiracy of Kings by Megan Whalen Turner: book 4 in the queen’s thief series (now complete!). political intrigue, gods are real and semi-present in people’s lives, greekish adjacent.

154. Heartstopper: Volume Two by Alice Oseman: yes i had already read these panels online, but my print copy came in so obviously it was time to reread (it’s going to be a tv show!) (also its still updating!)

155. The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration by Isabel Wilkerson: meticulously researched, interwoven personal stories, the book is HEFTY but reads pretty quick

156. The Architect’s Apprentice by Elif Shafak: really cool story set in the height of the ottoman empire, follows Jahan, the elephant keeper, and how he came to be there and him growing up

157. Longbourn by Jo Baker: a retelling of pride and prejudice from the servants’ point of view, content warning: wickham preying on like a 12 year old, witnessing a whipping, descriptions of starvation, being a soldier in the napoleonic war

158. People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks: a ridiculously old Hebrew manuscript thought to be lost is found in Sarajevo, a conservator goes to examine it and finds several clues to the provenance of the text, follows the clues through history and flashes back to the present as the conservator tries to follow up on the clues, based on the true story of the Sarajevo Haggadah; content warning: murder, Holocaust, giving birth, the Inquisition

159. Goalie Interference by Avon Gale: hockey m/m romance between a set of tandem goalies on a fictional professional hockey team, lots o sex

160. What If It’s Us by Becky Albertalli: coming of age story set in nyc the summer before college, trying to figure out who you are, missing connections, some bad communication that gives way to good communication

161. Trade Deadline by Avon Gale: a hockey player gets traded after many seasons on the same team to his hometown team that is struggling to bring in fans, he reconnects with a childhood friend (and first kiss) who helps run the local aquarium, cuteness ensues, romance (so there’s sex)

162. The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead: two slaves manage to escape Georgia on the Underground Railroad, which, in this imagining is a series of safe houses and actual trains, follows their lives after that; content warning: violence, whipping, hunting people with dogs, severe illness, murder, racism

163. Small Gods by Terry Pratchett: 13th in the discworld series, this one explores the makings of a religion and how gods that have fallen out of favor can get a resurgence, very funny, highly ridiculous

164. Are You Listening? by Tillie Walden: graphic novel, Bea is on the run, runs into Lou, they find a cat, strange and dangerous stuff starts happening to them, magical realism, towns appearing and disappearing, haunted by a group of threatening men? creatures? unclear

165. The Left-Handed Booksellers of London by Garth Nix: a fun fantasy novel, old gods still exist, demons exist, a special family of booksellers are the main ones in london trying to stop them from wreaking havoc on the mundane population, a girl discovers her father is not what her mom told her

166. Bloom by Kevin Panetta: graphic novel, ya m/m getting together and falling in love, a boy is helping out in his parents’ bakery reluctantly when he is given permission to hang a help wanted flyer and meets the boy who becomes one of his best friends and maybe more

167. The Deal of a Lifetime by Fredrik Backman: short story, follows a father and son’s relationship

168. The Secret History of Wonder Woman by Jill Lepore: non-fiction, follows the author of the original wonder woman comics and his life, he seems like an ass to me though

169. Alif the Unseen by G. Willow Wilson: a hacker and his network is targeted after sleeping with/romancing the fiance of the government official tasked with rooting out those people trying to avoid the regime, alif is forced to go on the run with the literal girl next door and manages to accidentally stumble into the world of the djinn; content warning: imprisonment, torture, starvation, riots, murder

170. The Midnight Library by Matt Haig: in the space between life and death, there is a library, full of every what if you can think of and many more that you didn’t, follows the protagonist as she explores her own life many times if she had made different decisions along the way

171. A Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers: a crew that punches wormholes through space to make travel easier is given a huge contract that would set them up financially, but will take a massively long time to get to, and when they do, all is not as it seems, changing POV throughout the crew of a couple humans, a few differing alien species, and an AI as they go to do this job,

172. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows: epistolary novel set just after WW2, juliet ashton is a writer who receives a letter from Guernsey Island in the English Channel and they spark a friendship, after learning more about his experience during the war and his relationship with books, she starts corresponding with others from the island and eventually goes there herself. this is my actual favorite book. the love story is super sweet plus the friendships are A++++

173. Unshelved by Bill Barnes: comic strip collection set in a local library, follow the librarians as they battle loud teenagers, preteens who don’t want to read, and people who think the library is for anything but finding books to read

174. Ms. Marvel, Vol 1: No Normal by G. Willow Wilson: Ms. Marvel origin story, follows a teenager in Jersey City as she accidentally and suddenly acquires superpowers while trying to still make her curfew and not disappoint her parents and get good grades

175. Feast of Famine by Naomi Novik: short story set in the Temeraire series, won’t make sense unless you’re familiar with the worldbuilding

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years

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R-r-r-rewatch thoughts for The Mandalorian S2 Ep2

(or Chapter 10 as they seem resolved to call it)

- can I just express my joy for a moment that in one episode we get peli, the answer to my pleas for female representation in the ‘sketchy middle aged car mechanic’ niche, and a female alien designed with no consideration towards sexiness. (I mean I’m sure there’s someone. There is always someone somewhere on the Internet, is the bitter truth history has shown to us. but it’s not the intention behind the design haha)

- they do take great pains to deliberately show you boba’s armour several times both in the recap and in the episode itself, so never despair he is very likely still on his way onto our screens once more

- this dude holding the baby hostage wanting specifically the jetpack in exchange is the one (1) break this whole episode gave din lol

also the Patented Mando Finger Curl of Stress while he talked softly and calmly to not promp this asshole to make a sudden move... the most endearing character tic, I love my space cowboy dad so much

- fun continuity detail: din is all out of whistling birds now, and you can see it here!

I wonder if he could still use the same mechanism with different ‘ammo’, it’s just not as effective? from the way the armorer spoke whistling birds seem quite rare and it would be an inefficient use of beskar if that’s the only thing it can be loaded with

- I love how after the last episode, a 50 min epic with a bunch of original trilogy significance and impressive technical achievements and exciting character reveals, I was like ‘yeah okay I suppose that is quite interesting’, and this mess/comedy of inconveniences is the thing that fully makes my brain tip into the obsessive ‘BABY AND DAD SHOW!! BABY AND DAD SHOW!!!!!’ mind state lol

- ah the traditional ‘mando trudging slowly but steadily through the desert’ montage we all love to see (I hope this is going to be a Thing for the second episode of every season from now on)

Also I assume his suit has some sort of temperature regulation built in and that’s how he didn’t, y’know. die under the blazing desert sun

CAT FIGHT CAT FIGHT man I love the jawa. also mando doesn’t even glance over at them, really emphasizing how he’s like. done with this entire day (and it’s all barely even getting started din! i’m sorry)

yodito’s look in this scene tho... he’s like ‘we’ve Seen some shit lady’ (actually I think he’s staring at ‘dr mandible’ like O___o. it’s been a long day for a lil boy)

you get to see dr mandible’s cards a few times, so I assume anyone who knows the rules of... sabacc? probably? could figure out beforehand that he was in a bad spot. (the star wars fanbase is one of those where I KNOW the rules exist somewhere, and I know people who know those rules exist too)

- that sound the baby keeps making -- the ‘boo-a’, sometimes with a p-sound at the end -- if that’s the precursor to him saying any variation whatsoever of ‘dad’ or ‘papa’ or ‘baba’ or even ‘buir’ or anything, I will die. I will sink to the ground in a heap and never get up (the way he keeps seeking out gaze contact with the helmet and seems perfectly satisfied with it too... fasdhfaskdjhl my FEELINGS)

- it seems confirmed in this ep that the mandos who died on nevarro did so while holding off the enemy so the rest(probably especially the children) could get away; some of them appear to have escaped. which I guess is a small relief

frog lady stepping out of the shadows and into our hearts

I like that her firm nod after Peli translates ‘her husband has seen them’ lets us know she understands... basic? is that the common tongue thing in star wars there’s just so many to remember across fandoms lol? perfectly well, even if she can’t speak it.

- mando might be running low on ammo for the pulse rifle, if the fact that he hasn’t replaced the missing cartridge on his... bandolier belt thingy is any indication

ETA: actually ignore me this has been a thing since the literal first episode of the show my brain just had a hiccup lol

- so baby seems to use a little bit of the force to pull the eggs towards him -- I wonder how often he ‘taps into it’ or if it’s always ‘on’ in the background for him. if so I guess there’s no wonder he’s so hungry (but also... kid you can’t end this lady’s entire family line like that one cat who singlehandedly made extinct a whole species of bird! D:)

- din so rarely gets openly angry, he just gets passive aggressive and grumpy. and that’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with things but I love him

- frog lady reacts so strongly to when din sends the ping when nothing else woke her up, I wonder if she can hear more frequencies than a human

hello darkness my old frieeennnddd

proof nr 1508 that din does not starve this baby you guys, he even has his own little tray just the right size for him! as it happens the baby simply seems to prefer eating things that are... still alive in some capacity. which, uh. maybe they can invest in some form of non-sentient crickets or something for him to hunt down and.... oh dear

Look how they massacred my boy

By the way I finally managed to put into words why the Razor Crest -- and particularly the way it keeps getting beaten to hell and back and patched up again -- is so symbolically important and meaningful to me in this show in this post over here! it’s always a great relief to me when I can finally understand what the hell I’ve been going on about all this time and this was one of those lol

- honestly if it weren’t for frog lady and (more importantly) the baby I think there’s a slight chance din would’ve gone ‘well I had a good-ish run of it for a while there’ and just let the ice claim him haha

- “Why don’t you come over here and give me a hand. Make yourself useful” This is the one time in the episode I think he crosses the line into just being a dick for a moment (but noticeably the baby isn’t just a little hurt at this reaction, he’s clearly surprised and confused, which means this really does not happen often. after the time mando’s been having recently I guess a moment’s snappishness is understandable haha. he does follow up right after with being much more responsive and attentive when the baby toddles away from him, so it feels like it’s going to be okay)

also the ‘boo-ap’ sound is there again when he’s trying to get din’s attention. just sayin’

when din comes over to see the footprints baby makes a declarative little meep like ‘see??? I did tell you!’ haha

- it is very funny that mando is using all his technology meant to track down dangerous bounties in the grungy depths of the criminal underworld... to find a naked lady just chillin’ in a hot spring

cue the ‘father is evil?’ memes fsadfda. actually the funniest thing about this moment (apart from the fabulous finger acting) is that din actually snatches a few eggs out of the baby’s reach more subtly right before, and that baby only whines for ALL OF ONE SECOND before he goes to sniff around for other food possibilities fkadfhjkds. from my experience with human children he’s a lot less prone to tantrums. yodito doesn’t get mad, he gets even

- baby running towards din through the hatching spiderlings like ‘DAD I FUCKED UUUUUUP’, din’s little strangled ‘ngh’ sound as he picks the baby up and watches all the creepy crawlies come out... *chef kiss* impeccable

(that little ‘ngh’ and the soft shocked ‘ah ah AH!’s from when he goes flying at the beginning of the episode... pedro pascal and his voice work for this character gives me so much life. in some ways din has this sort of dignity and grace and in other ways he uh extremely doesn’t. he gets to be cool but also vulnerable in ways a lot of male main characters don’t and it’s probably why I love him so much)

btw here is that moment when din moves to hold the baby tightly against him with both hands as the big spider appears, because it gets me right in the heart... it such an instinctive thing of holding on to the dearest thing you’ve got before something bad is about to happen

fdsafhsdakjlfhsdkjlhfsdajhf oh my god the baby is clutching din’s finger with his little hand during the chase!!!! 😭😭😭

this FUCKING SHOW has just WEAPONIZED putting in small details everywhere to convey the love and tenderness and attachment felt by a little muppet doll even where only weirdos like me will frame by frame their way through the video to see it I am so MAD

- frog lady going ‘fuck this’ and bounding along is e v e r y t h i n g

- din is an amazing shot, though, he doesn’t seem to miss a single one in this whole scene (then again there’s something to shoot at basically everywhere one can take aim so lol)

baby hiding behind/half hugging din’s boot as he tries to get the doors closed hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I can’t breathhhhheeeee

honestly every single one of the baby’s proximity seeking behaviours in this ep has me on my knees

- it’s very unfair to play the heroic happy mando music like everything is going to be fine and then have a huge fuck-off spider drop down from the ceiling and break it off mid-tune, the mandalorian, you have trained me in certain ways and now do you betray me??? how can I trust again

- the camera work in the scene with the new republic guys gives such a good sense of the discomfort of being judged from on high by someone or something you can’t really see -- the glare of the lights blocking out everything in the shots from din’s pov makes it feel like a tense interrogation (the new republic dude who is actually dave filoni has such a look of fondness as he watches din tho it’s kind of sweet)

- ...oh no I think baby was actually considering munching on that dismembered spider leg YODITO NO JUST EAT YOUR KRAYT DRAGON BABY

- hngh this is a weird filler episode and it has my entire heart. I suspect we might get some episodes of a more stationary baby between active ones like this -- you can tell a little bit in this episode that especially having him running around fast is quite difficult to have look natural, they likely save that effort up for when it best serves the narrative

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian meta #the mandalorian spoilers #mmmm brain empty only dad and baby show in here #(actually that's not true there's some tf/graves activity going on at all times too haha)

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umbry-fic · 3 years

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Beaches! And Dolphins! (And Arsonists!)

Summary:

Colette: Misella, come play at the beach with me! Misella: I appreciate the invitation, but I must decline. Misella: I have been informed that I am 'not the beach type'. Colette: What? But... the beach is so much fun!

Colette, Lloyd, Arche and Genis spend an afternoon at the beach. Shenanigans ensue.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia, Tales of Crestoria Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Arche Klein, Genis Sage, Raine Sage, Misella Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving & Arche Klein & Genis Sage Rating: G Word Count: 4789 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 20/07/2021

Notes+Warnings: A fun fic based on Colette's Crestoria summer alt. (Don't take this too seriously!) Arche and Genis are both wearing their Asteria summer alts.

Slight spoiler warning for a design change in Crestoria chapter 8. No spoilers for Lloyd's side story.

Credits to @likes-words-and-shrimp for inspiring the conversation at the start. Happy summer! ♥

~~~

“Oh god.” Arche spat out a mouthful of pineapple juice, fumbling and nearly dropping the glass she was holding, tiny umbrella and all, into the sand. She coughed into her free hand, desperately trying not to enter a wheezing fit. She had not expected to witness this today.

“Genis already warned me, but… Really, what possessed you to choose this?!” Arche asked in disbelief.

Genis and Colette, in Arche’s humble opinion, both looked adorable - Genis in swimming trunks and a pair of kitten flip-flops; Colette in a swimsuit dress, golden hair tied into a messy ponytail, and equipped with cute accessories that only added to her charm.

Then there was Lloyd. Who was wearing the loudest Hawaiin print shirt she had ever seen, paired with… shorts that were secured with a belt? These were the weirdest clothing choices she had ever seen. Who wore a belt when they were going to the beach?

Lloyd was very red and very noticeable, sticking out like a sore thumb on the beach.

At least he had made a sensible decision when it came to his footwear - he was wearing sandals. If he had chosen to wear covered shoes to the beach, Arche may have needed to bury Lloyd on the spot for his crimes.

Lloyd scowled, clearly not appreciating Arche’s gaping expression or Genis snickering behind her. His childhood friend had a hand on Arche’s shoulder, and it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing in laughter.

“It’s my favourite colour!” Lloyd protested, crossing his arms and glaring away into the distance. “Besides, how much more ridiculous is it than your silly hat, Arche?”

“Excuse me?” Arche retorted, straightening up in indignation. She adjusted the hat in question, which was not a hat at all. “This is a sun visor! Can’t you see it’s made of plastic? It’s a fashion statement. A fashion statement. And a practical one at that, because my sensitive skin needs protection! It’s miles better than your shirt!”

Arche glared back in full force, fire raging in her eyes. Despite her being a full three heads shorter than Lloyd, she appeared threatening enough to make Lloyd take a hurried step back.

“Alright, alright!” Lloyd conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t murder me.”

“I told you this was a horrible choice yesterday, Lloyd,” Genis gasped between snickers, bending down with his hands on his knees. His sides were in pain. “Anyone would have known that this was a horrible choice. Anyone except you! You should have been there when he tried it on, Arche.”

Genis had done more than just tell Lloyd. Upon seeing Lloyd step out of the dressing room, Genis had groaned and buried his head in his hands. For an entire hour. Colette had tried to get him to raise his head with wonderful motivational quotes like “You can do it!”, but ultimately failed to knock Genis out of his stupor.

“Honestly, I’m thanking my lucky stars that I already owned mine,” Arche replied drily. And her two-piece swimsuit was cute too! A win. “I was spared seeing this disaster unfold live.”

“I think it looks nice,” Colette spoke up, butting into the conversation with a sunny smile. “Red looks good on Lloyd. It’s like… How do I explain it… His colour?”

“See? All of you just have no sense of taste!” Lloyd said triumphantly, blushing a little as he scratched the back of his head, grinning from Colette’s compliment.

“I’d say love is blind. But you’re both blind,” Arche commented, shaking her head and patting Genis on the back. “Come on, Genis, let’s go get started on a sandcastle before these two idiots derail this whole day.”

Colette stared after the retreating back of her two friends, Arche holding her drink high above her head and Genis still letting out a final few peals of laughter. She turned back to Lloyd, blinking in confusion. “Love…?”

“JUST - Think nothing of it!” Lloyd blurted out, blushing harder until his face resembled his shirt. All in all, too much red. “They don’t mean anything by it! Shall we get going too? We only have until Professor Raine picks us up to enjoy the beach.”

“Alright!”

Colette still wanted to know what was up, but chose to drop the line of questioning in favour of getting started with this day of fun. Neither she, nor Lloyd, nor Genis, had ever been to the beach. How could they, having been confined to the limits of a single village for their whole lives?

This was her chance to experience the sparkling waters and pristine sands that every child was supposed to know and experience at least once. All with shining eyes, a ton of energy, and the company of her friends! Arche had promised to act as their guide to all things beach-related, boasting about her expertise in this rather strange area.

It was going to be great, and she couldn’t wait!

Colette spotted a familiar figure in the corner of her vision, standing some distance away on the golden sands. Was that…?

“I see Misella!” Colette chirped, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet in excitement from spotting her new friend. She hoped she could get to know her better - that was a favourite pastime of hers. “I’m going to go say hi!”

“The girl you met last night at the inn? Have fun! I’ll be waiting with...” Lloyd trailed off as he realised that Colette had already taken off, leaving nothing but a cloud of fine sand in her wake. “Ah, she’s gone…” he muttered, smiling fondly. “Just like her.”

Lloyd turned, following the footprints Arche and Genis had left behind. Might as well get started on learning some beach activities! Then he could help Colette ease into them.

He wanted to make this day as amazing for her as possible.

~~~

“Misella!” Colette called out, practically lunging at the other girl’s back in excitement. Misella, rightfully startled, turned around just in time for Colette to grab onto her hands instead of sending Misella face-first into the sand.

Hm? How strange, Colette thought. Misella was still wearing gloves.

Maybe her hands were sensitive to sand…? That was the only reason Colette could think of. Or maybe it was just a fashion thing! Arche would know. She’d ask her later.

“Oh. It’s just you, Colette.” Misella blinked, releasing the tension from her hunched shoulders.

“Sorry for startling you.” Colette giggled. “I’m glad you ended up coming to the beach! You said you wouldn’t last night...”

“Ah, Kanata wanted to come. He said this was a famous beach and it would be a shame if we didn’t visit it,” Misella replied with a gentle smile, her gaze drifting to a boy with blond hair, who was wearing a plain pair of swimming trunks and was busy lugging a bucket from the direction of the waterfront. Kanata’s hand was bandaged - was he injured? Oh, Colette hoped he’d get better soon!

“And… the rest of my acquaintances,” Misella continued, tone shifting from adoring to carefully neutral as her gaze slid further right.

Acquaintances? What a strange way of putting friends!

Colette followed Misella’s gaze... And had to pause to process what she was seeing.

A man with black hair stood next to a lady with light brown hair, both slaving away with shovels in hand. The man wore a Hawaiian shirt over a pair of swimming trunks, the shirt even more eye-catching than Lloyd’s, and unbuttoned to reveal a strange symbol on his stomach. The lady wore a two-piece swimsuit, together with a sun hat made from straw and a pair of dark sunglasses that fully obscured any view of her eyes.

But what Colette was more interested in was where the two were dumping the sand they were so determined to dig up. All of it, weight and all, was going onto a third person who was so obscured by the pile of sand covering them that only their head of silver hair was visible, together with two flailing arms.

And was that screaming?

“Don’t be worried, Colette. This is an activity known as burying someone in sand. It’s a tradition at the beach, and Aegis volunteered,” Misella said in a deadpan tone. “Yuna and Vicious are just helping him.”

“I… I see.”

“Your swimsuit is very cute,” Misella commented, turning so that she blocked the concerning view behind her. She pointed out the white petals nestled securely in Colette’s hair. “And the flower is very beautiful. Is it a lily? I must admit I’m not too knowledgeable on flower species...”

“Oh, thank you so much! Lloyd picked it out for me, and it is a lily! At least, I think so,” Colette replied, any thoughts about the person in the sand already forgotten. Her happy smile only grew wider as she recalled how Lloyd had gifted the lily to her on the way to the beach.

Lloyd had been shifting from foot to foot, unable to look her in the eye as he had offered her the freshly-picked flower, the petals still wet from the morning rain. She hadn’t understood why he had been feeling so nervous, but hadn’t wanted to probe him on it. She had, however, accepted the lily in the blink of an eye, letting him place it in her hair, his fingers brushing against the tip of her ear for a brief moment and making her shiver. Her heart was filled with warm happiness from his actions. She intended to cherish the flower for as long as she could, for it was a gift from Lloyd, and all gifts from Lloyd were precious treasures.

“Like my brightblaze…” Misella muttered to herself, fingers cupping the precious flower that continued to sit in her hair, no matter her outfit or agenda for the day. It would never leave.

“Yours is really pretty as well! So is your swimsuit. It’s elegant,” Colette said eagerly, wanting to return the compliment. Misella’s two-piece swimsuit with a skirt truly fit her!

“Thank you, Colette. And did you get yours from the same place as us? This…” Misella asked, fingers reaching out and brushing the inflatable float that snugly hugged Colette’s arm. The float didn’t resemble any normal ring float - it was shaped like Lloyd, complete with his large smile, spiky hair and red Hawaiian shirt. It was adorable, and Colette absolutely loved it. She would be keeping it forever, even if she never went to the beach again! Lloyd had said much the same about his float, who looked just like her, down to the exact outfit she was wearing right now.

Besides, who said she wasn’t allowed to wear the float even outside of the beach? She wasn’t opposed to proudly wearing it every day, no matter what anyone said to her.

“I see that you have a similar float.” Colette giggled, gently poking the Kanata-shaped float on Misella’s right arm, which complemented the one she could faintly see on Kanata’s arm. “Did the friendly man at the swimwear shop offer to make you a pair as he did with me and Lloyd?”

“The short man with the accent?”

“The very same! He was so nice.”

Colette clasped her hands together, hoping she’d be able to see that friendly man with the bushy beard again. She wanted to thank him one more time for the generous gift - the pair of floats had been completely free of charge, and the details were perfectly done!

She also wanted to just spend some time with him. He seemed like an interesting person, and Lloyd seemed to like him too.

“Ah, Colette,” Misella said, breaking Colette out of her train of thought. “Kanata is calling for me.”

“Oh! Then I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Sorry for cutting our conversation short…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Colette waved Misella’s worries away. “We can always keep talking in the inn tonight. My friends and I aren't going to be leaving till tomorrow. I hope you have a good time! I’ll be joining my friends now.”

“You too, Colette! Have a fun time!” Misella waved goodbye, yelling after Colette’s retreating back.

Colette really was doing a lot of running around today.

She hoped she wouldn’t trip and ruin something…

~~~

“Sorry about the sandcastle. I lost us the competition...” Colette sighed. She crouched and dipped her hand down, letting the incoming waves wash away the granules sticking to it. That wouldn’t be enough to rid her of all the sand clinging to her from her plunge through the sandcastle, but nothing was likely to do that except a dip in the ocean.

Neither would the water wash away the frustrated frown on her face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lloyd said, his gaze drawn to her, as it always was - watching the sea foam part around her hand; the sea flinging droplets into the air around her. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt. And what mattered was that we had a lot of fun, right?”

“Right!” Colette stood up, her frown fading away. Rivulets of water flowed down her arm and dripped from her fingertips. “I had a ton of fun!” She turned to face the azure waves, taking a step closer. Sunlight rippled on their surface, forming diamonds of pure gold that danced in merriment. “The waters here really are beautiful. They might be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen. Apart from Pasca’s clearing, that is. Thanks for suggesting we come here, Lloyd.”

Lloyd walked further out so he was standing next to Colette, feeling the waves lap at his ankles and submerge his bare feet, his sandals having been abandoned in the protection of Arche and Genis.

The sea wasn’t anywhere close to the most beautiful thing here.

“Anything to make that smile return,” he muttered.

No, that title belonged to the girl standing next to him. Her ponytail swayed in the slight breeze that teased his shoulders, her dress fluttering around her thighs, the metal around her neck glinting golden under the sunlight. Her arms were outstretched to feel the sea spray, her head tipped back in bliss. And on her face was the smile he always wanted to put there, bright and happy and content.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Lloyd? Earth to Lloyd?”

Lloyd snapped out of his daze to find Colette waving her hand in his face, a pout on her face and her hand on her waist.

“You can’t just stare at me and go silent, you know,” Colette grumbled.

“Sorry. I… I was, um...” Lloyd scrambled to return to his senses, wondering what he could even say without exposing just how deeply he had tumbled into love. Just being this close to her made his heart sing, not to mention how her current outfit turned her cuteness up to eleven and made functioning normally for him nigh impossible. All the ribbons…

He’d choked on his spit when Colette had walked out of the dressing room, hardly able to believe his eyes. Genis had spent the entirety of yesterday night reminding him of this, and Lloyd knew Genis would never let him forget.

A sudden clicking sound emanated from near their feet, interrupting his awkward attempt at an explanation. Boy, was he glad for the distraction.

“Oh!” Colette squealed in delight, crouching once again to peer at the snout that now poked out of the waters - one belonging to a grey dolphin with shining, curious eyes. “Hello there! Come to say hi?”

So the clicking sound had been the dolphin’s cry! He’d have to thank the dolphin later for saving his hide.

Colette laughed, the sound as refreshing as the sea spray, as the dolphin bumped its snout into her open palm. “You’re a playful one, aren’t you?” she whispered, patting its rubbery head. “Hm, I think I’ll name you Tim. Do you like the name?”

The dolphin proceeded to swim one rapid round, seemingly expressing its joy. It leapt into the air before diving back into the water, the slap of its tail spraying the both of them with a faceful of salt.

“I think it likes it,” Lloyd said. He couldn’t help but smile - even as he blinked seawater out of his eyes - content to watch Colette play with the dolphin. Naming the dolphins was so inherently... Colette.

That was when a second dolphin appeared, emitting equally enthusiastic cries as it joined the first. The two swam around each other happily, squeaking and clicking, with what appeared to be smiles on both of their faces that revealed rows of teeth.

“I think Tim and Robert are friends!” Colette exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She had come up with a second name on the spot. Impressive. “How sweet.”

“They’re… They’re coming back,” Lloyd noted in surprise, staring at the two rapidly approaching dolphins gliding through the ocean. The two sea creatures came to an abrupt stop before him and Colette, both clicking out an unknown message.

“I wonder what it is they want,” Colette mused, reaching out a gentle hand to stroke Robert’s fin. Only to be met with enthusiastic clicking, Tim bobbing its head up-and-down in what Lloyd interpreted as a nod.

“Huh.” This was probably going to sound dumb, but it was the only thing that came to Lloyd’s mind. “I… I think they want us to ride them?”

As if they could comprehend what Lloyd was saying, the two dolphins burst out into a cacophony of cries, shocking even Colette.

“I think you hit the nail on the head!” Colette kicked off her sandals, the two shoes landing on a haphazard pile on the sand, before grabbing his right hand in both of hers. She did it with no hesitation at all, the warmth of her hands seeping into his. He didn’t know how she did it, but he never wanted her to stop.

“Come on! This will be so much fun!” she cried, tugging him along, the bracelet around her right wrist jangling. She was the brightest thing before him, brighter even than the sun, her smile lighting up his chest with fireworks.

He would follow her anywhere. Anywhere in the whole wide world.

“Let’s not keep Tim and Robert waiting!”

~~~

“I wish you would have told us about the dolphins,” Arche grumbled, sitting up on the beach towel that formed her seat and hugging her knees to her chest. Genis was squatting next to her, continuing to work on the turtle sandcastle that had won the pair the spontaneously-held sandcastle competition. And rightfully so, considering how intricate the design was - complete with grooves on the shell and accurately shaped flippers.

Colette wondered how the turtle continued to stand on such a narrow base, however. Shouldn’t it have collapsed by now? Sand wasn’t this stable, was it? How did Genis do it?

“Sorry,” she apologised, plopping down under the shade of the umbrella that the two half-elves had commandeered. Her legs were still slightly shaky from the thrill of the past half-hour. “I was too engrossed and forgot entirely.”

It had been so much fun to navigate the seas on the back of an energetic dolphin with Lloyd by her side, catching the waves and speeding along the currents, feeling the sea breeze kiss her face. The cries of the dolphins and Lloyd’s laughter had filled her ears, his delighted smile carved into her memory. He’d even challenged her to a race, one that had ended in a draw as both Tim and Robert reached the shore at the same time. She and Lloyd had stumbled back onto the sand at that moment, her head spinning from all the tight turns they’d made. His arms had steadied her, as Lloyd always did, as she had turned and waved goodbye to the dolphins before they sped away.

“I’ll definitely tell you next time!” Colette promised. Arche and Genis should get to know the magical experience as well. And she would love to do it again.

Maybe she’d get to see Tim and Robert again! That would be great.

Genis not-so-discreetly elbowed Arche in the side, raising three fingers into the air and shaking his head.

“Ah, you’re right, Genis. Never mind, Colette, it’s alright. I’m actually somewhat glad.” Arche nodded sagely, having understood Genis’ symbolism perfectly. She flopped back down onto the towel, resting her head on her crossed arms. “I would have died so young from third-wheeling.”

“What does that even mean?” Colette asked, half-ready to place her hands on Arche’s shoulders and shake the answers out of her friend. It was bad enough that Arche and Genis seemed to be sharing an inside joke, but they also kept using these mysterious terms that Colette couldn’t wrap her head around! Even Lloyd seemed to be in on it.

“Don’t mind them!” Lloyd hurriedly interjected, slipping his feet into his sandals. Was he… blushing again?

What was happening?!!

Colette pouted. Fine. She’d drop it for now. But she’d find out one day, she swore.

“So. Shall we play a game of volleyball?” Arche asked. “Our sandcastle competition fell apart from the beginning, and…” Arche reached blindly into a backpack that the half-elf had magically procured out of somewhere, for Colette did not remember her bringing it to the beach. Arche triumphantly pulled out a colourful beach ball, all without budging from her lazy position. “...it’s the perfect use for this!”

“Sure. You’re on,” Lloyd replied, grinning. “I bet me and Colette can beat you any day.”

“And you two are automatically on the same team.” Arche finally sat up, raising one eyebrow before dropping it immediately. “Why am I even surprised? Anyway, you sure you want to make that bet?”

Genis sighed, setting down his shovel. He was not looking forward to all the physical exertion, but he knew he’d get dragged into it whether or not he agreed. Might as well indulge his friends. “Don’t try to be cocky, Arche. Lloyd may be the dumbest idiot in the world, but he is strong.”

“Oh, you’re right…”

“Yeah! See? I’d beat you - Wait, Genis!” Lloyd shouted, having finally processed that his friend had insulted him.

Colette paid no mind to the childish jabs her two childhood friends were busy exchanging. Rather, she was deep in thought about how to make the upcoming volleyball game more fun. Genis would get tired fairly quickly, and she’d rather let him rest instead of forcing himself to continue. But that would make the teams unbalanced, and who knew how long Arche and Lloyd could continue playing for?

The solution…

Ah!

“Can I invite Misella and her friends?” Colette perked up, raising her arm like she was answering one of Professor Raine’s questions. She’d come up with a brilliant idea, and she wanted to share it! “Since they’re here at the beach, they might as well join in the fun!”

“I mean… I don’t see why not?” Arche shrugged.

“The more the merrier!” Lloyd agreed.

“Okay then, I’m off!” Colette scrambled to her feet, quickly brushing down her bare legs. “I’ll bring them back here.”

Colette sprinted towards where she remembered Misella was, becoming nothing more than a blur of yellow and red that zoomed past other people. She spotted a familiar head of pink hair and adjusted her path.

Misella was standing with her back to Colette, her arms crossed across her chest. The person who had been in the process of being buried was now fully covered with a massive mound of sand, arms laying slack as if in resignation.

As Colette neared the group of five, the sound of enraged shouting reached her ears. Oh no, was there some argument going on?

All Colette could make out was the word “bazongas”. She had no clue what that meant, for she had never heard it before. Perhaps it was some mysterious creature, befitting of such a unique name. She’d just ask Professor Raine later!

What Colette did know was the chain of unfortunate events that unfolded within the next few minutes. It was such a short time, and yet it was packed to the brim with frantic activity, seeming to stretch into eternity.

Colette spotted Misella raise her arm, a bird of flame coming to life and rearing its head gloriously. She absent-mindedly registered in a small section of her mind that the phoenix was gorgeous, elegant and regal. A perfect match for someone like Misella.

The rest of her mind was focused on all-consuming worry.

Lloyd, Genis and Arche tended to get into arguments a lot. They were always playful, however, never malicious in nature. And they most certainly did not stray into full-on fights with intent to injure. At most, Genis would hit Lloyd lightly in the shoulder, while Arche hit a little harder by slapping the same spot.

Friends shouldn’t hurt one another! She staunchly believed in that! So whatever disagreement Misella and her friends had gotten into, they should resolve it peacefully. Not with red-hot flames!

“Mise - Ah!” Colette was interrupted mid-shout as her foot caught on… absolutely nothing. There was nothing in the sand - not a pebble, not a fragment of a seashell, not a handle of a stray, forgotten shovel. She had tripped over thin air.

The mystery of how Colette had fallen, while intriguing, was not the most important thing.

Rather, it was the immediate consequence of her fall, as it usually was.

Misella, too wrapped up in yelling at Vicious, didn’t hear Colette’s approach at all. The others took notice of the girl flailing her arms in warning far too late, identical expressions of alarm crossing their faces as they stepped forward in a futile attempt to stop the inevitable collision.

“Now burn - Eek!” Misella let out a surprised squeak of her own as Colette’s outstretched arms slammed into Misella’s back, sending them both careening towards the sand.

Unfortunately, this was also the moment wherein Misella released her scorching flames.

And you can guess how that ended.

~~~

“First of all. Lloyd, what are you wearing?” Raine groaned, dragging a tired hand down her face. As the responsible, and only, adult of the group, it had fallen to her to retrieve the frolicking children from the beach before the day got too late, and shepherd them back to the inn. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be leaving this town on time. Or ever.

If Raine was to be truly responsible, she should have been supervising them the entire time. After all, there was no telling what consequences Arche’s shenanigans would usher in, nor the problems that Lloyd’s stupidity could cause, nor the calamities that Colette could trip her way into. Genis, bless her little brother’s poor soul, would try his best, but he was nowhere near intimidating enough to get a handle on all three of them.

But there was no way anyone was going to convince her to spend her afternoon at the beach, passing each second petrified by terror and staring at the slowly approaching waters, waiting for the ocean to swallow her whole. She still wanted to let Lloyd, Colette and Genis experience the beach, however. Colette, especially, had been deprived of a childhood for far too long.

So Raine had happily traipsed off to the library for a few hours of quality reading, convinced that even these trio of troublemakers (and Genis tagging along) couldn’t get into that much trouble in such a short time.

And she’d come back to this mess.

“Is this really relevant, Professor? And why does everyone feel the need to bring this up?”

“Because it’s appalling! I taught you better than this!”

Genis and Arche, sitting on a nearby stone wall and observing the proceedings with identical deadpan expressions, let out a synchronised snicker. Though they quickly shut up when Raine glared at them. They did value their lives.

“That’s NOT the point, Professor! Don’t we have more pressing issues to deal with?”

"Then to get to the point… Colette," Raine forced through gritted teeth, the last word pointed. These kids were really something…

"Yes, Professor Raine?" Colette laughed in a higher pitch than usual, clasping her hands behind her back as sweat ran down her brow. Both because of nerves, and because of... Well... The situation behind her.

It was really, really hot. Not to mention the group of five arguing close-by, the boy who had finally managed to extricate himself from the sand desperately patting at his originally silver hair, which now had blackened tips. It might also have been… significantly shorter than it used to be, and certainly more jagged.

Raine sighed, brow furrowing in exasperation. She could feel the beginnings of a pounding headache.

"I left the four of you for three hours. Why is the beach on fire?"

#tales of symphonia #fanfiction #one shot #tales of crestoria #colette brunel #lloyd irving #genis sage #raine sage #arche klein #misella #colloyd #colette's crestoria summer alt

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strikearose · 3 years

Text

Uncovering Passione's Underside (1/1) GIOMIS

What one can learn by listening to what the secretive Passione's staff have to say about their Don... One-shot, GioMis, Post-canon, Humor, G+ You can also read it on ao3 here!

For as long as many Passione members could recall, Agnese Bianchi had always been there, grumbling as she would mop the hall floor and nagging at fellow cleaning employees and ruthless gang members all alike. It didn't matter how long their felonious resumes were, she simply couldn't stand slackers. Years of working within that specific industry had forged her strong character - she was honest, hardworking, and probably a tad too outspoken too about her aversion for mobsters, but she still knew better than to ask silly questions like some other people did.

The housekeeper glared at the man who'd been chatting up the new cleaner (and therefore, preventing her from mopping up the floor as she had explicitly urged her to) for the last half hour. His name was Trado, Trattore, or something that sounded way too much like Tradittore anyway: he was one of the Don's many henchmen. Ever since he had started working there, he had taken that annoying habit of snooping everywhere, making idle chitchat with the household staff during rush hour.

The old maid cleared her throat, grabbed her cleaning cart handles, and pushed it unceremoniously between the pair. "Is that what you call cleaning the reception room? Signore Giovanna wants it sparkling clean: go fix it now or apply for another job already!"

Her harsh tone worked just fine: the young employee, caught red-handed slacking work, gasped in surprise and mumbled a brief apology before leaving in a hurry. The man, however, didn't seem the least concerned about her admonition. He simply smiled and raised his hands in self-defense - and lord if there was a way he could possibly piss her off even more.

Agnese chose to simply disregard his presence and rummaged through her pockets to find the key she needed.

Click.

As it opened, she began to push her cleaning cart over the door sill with some difficulty.

"Need some help?"

Agnese sighed when she realized he was still there. Who the hell was he taking her for?

"I don't. As always, I'm doing just fine on my own."

To her dismay, it seemed that her sharp answer didn't manage to get rid of the gangster. For God's sake, couldn't he just go bother someone else, literally anyone but her? There was nothing Agnese hated more than to have someone watch her every move.

...

Or perhaps slackers.

Slackers who intended on watching her every move.

"So, for how long have you been working there? They say you'll bury us all..."

Agnese rolled her eyes as she finally managed to get her cart through the doorway.

"Long enough to have seen my fair share of slackers come and go..." The cleaning lady truly wished he'd get the memo this time. She had seen it all: louts in suits with fake good manners and scarred faces, but also men that seemed to be way too nice and curious for their own good. To her, that last species was the worst: they were wolves in sheep's clothing.

But of course, Trado (or Trattore or whatever was his name) didn't appreciate the subtlety of her response, and he continued his questioning: "You've been there long enough to have known the former boss, right? The one before Don Giovanna, a real freak apparently... "

Agnese tensed at that: she didn't like where the conversation was heading. She was unfortunately all too familiar with those office gossips. A little over five years ago now, Passione had gone from having no official face, to Giorno Giovanna's gracing every streets' corners. Rumors had it that the young, brilliant, man had brutally murdered the Original Don in the span of a week. Others thought that Giovanna's was his son and that the boss had simply granted himself a well-deserved retirement.

She couldn't care less about what had truly happened: Don Giovanna gave her a monthly salary as well as direct, concrete instructions. And those were the two things that mattered to her. He was good at that, giving clear orders to the people to his service. And it was nicer to serve him than to obey blindly the weird requests she'd receive by mail like before.

"Don't you really have anywhere else to go?", the cleaning lady suddenly turned to the man she had heard approaching but was relieved to see that he had not dared to enter the Don's office. He was looking at her, peering at what she was doing, from the door's threshold. "If you want a piece of advice, stop being so damn noisy."

The gangster laughed and at that, Agnese wished she could just sweep him out of the room.

"Relax! I'm new here, I'm just curious. Don Giovanna's pretty nice, he won't murder us over some harmless chitchat."

The Boss of a criminal organization, a nice man?

It was Agnese's turn to snort.

Yeah, she guessed it was the kind of public image he was adamantly working on And some people seemed to believe it: newspapers were reporting less traffic, a decline in thugs harming citizens' and tourists' safety. The astounding sums of money he was giving to local shelters, hospitals, and public schools were also common knowledge: rumors had it that the city council was even thinking of naming the brand-new biological museum, founded thanks to his many donations, after him.

As a boss, Agnese considered him to be pretty decent - well, as decent as being the Don of a criminal organization could possibly allow him to be considered. After all, he was well-educated enough not to leave clothes and magazines scattered everywhere like the previous boss and some of his most favored underlings did.

But as a man, there was no way she could possibly tell if he was nice. Agnese was just an old, tired cleaning lady: she never pried into the Don's private life even though she guessed there were things that couldn't escape her lack of malicious curiosity. Details such as notes and silly doodles scribbled on his desk, scraps of paper (of extremely dubious content) discarded in the garbage can she needed to empty or sweaters which were at least two sizes too big for him lying on the normally spotless ground of his room...

Sighing, the old maid was about to close the door behind her when she noticed it: the stupid smirk on the gangster's face. The stupid knowing smirk they always had whenever they would bring up the one topic she had no desire to discuss.

How she wished she could just spray him with a window cleaner to wipe it out of his face.

"You know people say 'bout them, right? I'm sure it's complete bullshit but..."

The answer Agnese gave him was the same she would lecture her own underlings with: "One thing I know for sure is that the Underboss always carries his gun on him... And the Don sure doesn't need one to silence people. So just drop it and mind your own business."

With a last sigh, she finally shut the door closed and started her heavy work. However, even though the noisy snoop had left, Agnese felt her mind drift to her first encounter with the Don as she was dusting the ancient bookcase.

It had happened about four years ago, on a late December afternoon - was it because she had arrived too early or because he had stayed in his office later than usual, but the door had been left open so she had loudly pushed her cart inside. The old cleaning lady had instantly understood her mistake - after all, there was little mystery about whom that man was... Who else would dare to enter the big boss's office in his absence?

Golden locks, emerald eyes looking right at her with mild surprise: he obviously had not been expecting her.

"Oh, it's already that time of the day," his chin tilted high and proud, the mafia boss had flatly made that statement.

Not knowing what to say, Agnese had simply nodded and taken a discreet look at the massive clock behind him. 8:17 pm. He was definitely the one behind schedule, not her: she was just on time.

Not that she could say it aloud anyway.

"I didn't know you were still in there, Signore Giovanna," while her head was slightly bowed as a sign of respect, she had not apologized for her intrusion. She had nothing to apologize for: boss or not, he was the one messing with the established schedule. "I'll come back to clean your office later."

Don Giovanna had however soon dismissed her concern with a motion of his hand.

"It's fine, you can start working now. I was about to leave anyway."

The old housemaid nodded and was about to approach the bookcase when she had stopped right on her track, seeing the state of the ancient Victorian carpet. The boss had a rather keen hearing as he almost instantly turned his attention away from his papers to peer at Agnese, understanding what the problem was right away.

The blood hadn't just spattered on the carpet - there were traces of it on the sofa. And on the cushions. As well as on the desk's marble border.

And of course, the Don had to insist on furnishing his office with pristine white furnitures - even the smallest stain could be spotted from miles away.

Well, at least to look at the bright sight, Agnese realized that she wasn't the one who had to take care of the body, to each, his own mess: scrubbing out the carpet was already going to be a real nightmare.

"I apologize for that," the voice of her employer was surprisingly gentle, and it had taken her off guard. "I'll make sure the floor is covered properly next time."

As unbelievable as it might sound, the Don had kept true to his word: she hadn't been able to find a single drop of blood in his office ever since.

And she had even gotten a raise in the following week.

Rumors had it that Don Giovanna was capable of prodigious deeds that a rational mind could not possibly explain: that dazzling smile of his could enchant things and bend them to his will. Some prominent figures from all parts of the world, whose identities shall remain hidden, had apparently come out of his office miraculously cured. But rumors also had it that the reason why his public appearances were becoming more and more scarce was because of a growing sensitivity to daylight.

So Agnese paid very little to no regard to them. Most of the time, like Tradutti had stated, it was indeed complete bullshit.

However, later that night, as she undid her bandages to observe the state of the burn on a forearm (a stupid domestic accident involving a boiling teapot), Agnese was amazed to find her epidermis completely smooth. There was no more blistering or dead skin: her forearm was of a softness that contrasted with the rest of her body:the astronomical amount of tiger balm and aloe vera used could not possibly explain that. So as much of a skeptic as she was, the cleaning lady was forced to admit that it had to be somehow related to her earlier encounter with the Don.

As soon as she had stepped outside his office after tidying it, she had spotted the mafia boss in the hallway. He was accompanied by five or six men dressed in equally expensive suits. Among them was a face quite familiar to her: the city mayor who was making it to the news because of yet another corruption scandal.

The last thing she needed was to get involved in this ugly mess, so the cleaning lady kept her head high and bravely pushed her cart forwards. What she wasn't expecting however was for the Don to stop her.

"Did you injure yourself?"

She had had no choice but to peer down too at her bandage and lie through her teeth: "It's nothing, Signore."

His face showed no emotion, but he took a step towards her and delicately grabbed the injured arm before she could protest. His grip was somehow gentle but tight: there was no way she could escape from it. It was a literal iron fist in a velvet glove.

Agnese could still recall feeling the gazes of the Mayor and his bodyguards on her, they had also stopped walking to stare at her. Her heart rate had momentarily quickened when the Don's hands had brushed over her wound, his emerald eyes never leaving her confused expression. A sharp pain had set her wrist on fire... And then nothing.

She no longer felt a thing - it was as if it had never happened: Don Giovanna had taken a step back and addressed his subordinates, and they all had resumed their walk, any concern about the poor old maid definitely forgotten. The only one who had graced her with something (a strangely amused smile) before leaving was Guido Mista.

The Underboss truly was something. He often reminded Agnese of her own son: way too careless and untidy. His room was a literal nightmare to clean: most of his cashmere sweaters (which he had no problem leaving on the floor for all that mattered) needed to be hand-washed, and he also had the specificity of returning several times a month completely riddled with bullets.

The fact that he was somehow still alive despite his many injuries was as much a real blessing to him that it was a curse for her.

After all, Agnese was the one who had to clean up after him: and there was nothing easier than to track him because with Underboss Mista came blood everywhere.

Everywhere.

From the pavement outside to the sheets of a certain person whose name shall remain unknown.

...

The kitchen timer rang and Agnese was brought back to reality.

She couldn't say for sure if the Don was responsible for this miracle, but she still wished he could have also helped with her rheumatism too.

━━━━━ ༻🌱༺ ━━━━━

Unlike Agnese, Rolfo Giardino was still fairly new at that whole managing-not-to-get-mixed-up-in-mafia-mess-while-working-for-them dilemma. This gardener may have had twenty years of experience, nothing could have possibly prepared him for what was about to come.

The headquarters' gardens themselves were very pleasant - they were spacious and ideally located. Starting from scratch, that is to say from an austere backyard where some pathetic trees were beginning to wither to this authentic example of Giardino all'italiana, adorned with classical sculptures, flowering shrubs, fountains and ornamental parterres, had not been easy at first but Signore Giovanna had agreed to pay the price without thinking twice and the result was worth it.

Now that it was done, now that Rolfo and his team only had to maintain the garden (meaning watering the flowers and cutting the hedges one or two times a week), he guessed the job would be pretty nice if it weren't for all those mobsters who, for some reason he still couldn't gather, enjoyed watching him work. That, as well as those dreadful echoes of gunfire and screams which would shatter from time to time the peaceful atmosphere of the garden.

The rustling of water, the birds' chirping, a loud explosion from within the building... A nice sunny day overall.

Some of his employees were still refusing to work there despite his best attempts to reassure them: for as long as they would stay away from the actual building, it was not like something could happen to them, right? Still, they were places where even Rolfo himself did not like to approach, near the window overlooking what he thought was the Big Boss's office for instance. He had been forced to come close (way too close) to it because of his client's special request to have ivy and white roses gambling along this wall.

He had started working on it on a day when the weather was so mild that the window had apparently been cracked open for once - and the uncanny noises and groans that had escaped through it had scared the gardener to death. He hadn't dared to peer inside to find out what was really happening: the last thing he needed to know was what the Don of Passione's private torture sessions consisted of. Ever since that unfortunate incident, Rolfo had not ventured any closer to the damn white rosebushes. The branches were becoming too long, they were clearly starting to block the path of light, but as long as the Don didn't make any complaint, Rolfo would leave them be.

But on that day, however, the poor gardener saw red as his eyes fell on the figure loitering near that damn window: who was that son of a bitch was stepping on his flower beds!

"Hey you fucking moron: Move! Can't you see you're ruinin' my work?" Rolfo's shout managed to hit the bull's eye. The criminal was startled by it and half a dozen of armed men (probably criminals too) suddenly burst out the building to see what the hell was happening. He sprinted in the direction of the jerk and threw his pair of pruning shears at him. The gardening tool narrowly missed him - it crashed against the window instead (which, thank lord, did not shatter after the impact), but still made him leave. The stern face of Giorno Giovanna soon appeared, his head comically peaking out the building.

The Big Boss frowned when he realized that five of his men were gathered outside, frantically looking for someone, and took a deep breath: "Did one of you just threw a rock at my window?" He sounded confused, and to his credit, that was quite understandable.

Rolfo felt all adrenaline leave him abruptly - he could feel on him the murderous glares of literal murderers, who would have probably murdered him on the spot were it not for the presence of their Big Boss. He had no choice but to come clean: "Uhh, I do believe it was my pruners, Signore. I apologize, I swear they weren't aimed at you. It was for that damn...- uhh, I mean, that employee of yours!"

The Don didn't seem the slightest taken aback by the choice of weapon. He ran a hand through his braided locked and motioned for the others to go.

"You're saying that someone was eavesdropping on me just now?"

Rolfo looked down for a moment before answering: "Uhh, probably? I mean, he was stomping on my rosebushes near your window, that's for sure. They're Blanche Moreau's you know? They took weeks to arrive from France, weeks to finally blossom in Italy's sunlight!"

The mafia boss frowned at that, and Rolfo just knew he understood how valuable these roses were. After all, the Don seemed to be pretty knowledgeable about plants and lots of stuff: rumors had it that they were going to name that new museum after him so...

Signore Giovanna looked behind him and seemed to be addressing someone in the room: "Make sure to find him."

Curiosity overcame his initial reserve: standing on tiptoe, the gardener finally peered at the window to see what was happening inside. The office seemed incredibly spacious and clean: a dark-haired man, behind the desk, was adjusting the position of his cap on his head.

"Kay, I'll climb down the window to catch him faster! The fucker must be hiding somewhere close!," as soon as the man finished speaking, Rolfo couldn't help but react straight away.

"No, you can't do that! You'll ruin the other bushes!"

Both mafiosi looked at him for a moment and the old gardener realized he might have spoken out of turn, but the Don settled the matter for them anyway:

"He's right, I do like these Blanche Moreau's: go around my office Mista. And please, your zipper." That last part had been uttered quietly, but Rolfo had still managed to pick up on it. His devout Catholic mind would probably have been offended by it were it not for the sudden realization which left him quivering.

How on earth was he able to peak so clearly at the window now...?

"That fucking son of a bitch!", at that the mafia boss frowned and looked at him quizzically, but Rolfo couldn't halt the stream of profanities coming out of his mouth. It was too late. "He chopped it off! The whole branch!! It's all gone!"

Rolfo had promised his wife he would never get too close to the mafia, even though those paychecks sure were quite weighty. And yet as he was now, comfortably sitting in a well-made leather seat, a cup of coffee in his hand, he thought that for a first time within the shady building he had tried to avoid entering for so long, things were actually looking pretty normal. A week had passed since the unfortunate roses incident, and he had been surprised to receive after a subsequent sick leave a call from the Don's office. He didn't really have much choice, so he had shown up on time and was now patiently waiting in the lobby.

"Don Giovanna will now receive you."

Rolfo followed without a word the pretty secretary - she too looked way too customarily pretty to be involved in that kind of business. It was only when he passed under the massive arch of the door that he became fully aware of what was happening: the head of the Italian mafia had summoned him here.

As expected, it was the Don's spacious office, the one he had managed to catch a glimpse of through the window free of rose branches. The room appeared to be spotlessly clean - hell, it even smelled like a mixture of disinfectant and fresh lemon. Definitely not what he was expecting it to look like. Oddly enough, the very first thing he noticed was the tarp on the floor: that gaudy blue plastic was seriously clashing with the rest of the pristine white furnishings.

"Good afternoon, Signore Giardino. Is that the man you spotted by my window the other day?," Rolfo met the gaze of the mafia boss who was calmly standing to what soon turned out to be a man in bad shape, feet and fists bound onto the chair.

On the other side of the suspect, nonchalantly propped against the desk, was the gangster who had wanted to hop out the window.

All three of them were looking at the gardener expectantly, and he heard behind him the sound of the door closing. Of course, the pretty secretary couldn't stay.

"I can't say for sure Signore. See, I was so focused on the combat boots trampling my bushes that I didn't pay too much attention to his face..."

He hated the bastard who had wrecked his work, sure, but to rush him to such a tragic fate...

"Cool, then check it out!," the underboss had spoken with a casualness contrasting with the cruelty of the angle in which he twisted the poor man's leg. Rolfo had no choice but to look at the sole of his boot.

...

The fucking bastard.

There were still manure and rose petals stuck to it. And those were no common rose petals - they were large, fluffy and creamy white. They had been violently snatched away from a Blanche Moreau's sepal.

The gardener hardly needed to speak up to convince the mafia boss - the lethal look he was giving the tied-up man was already enough evidence.

Umberto Tradduto's fate had just been sealed.

Rolfo couldn't say what prompted him to look outside, but after that he only overheard bits of the conversation whispered in front of him: what was he was seeing right now was far more chocking anyway:

"I leave it to you for now Mista. I'll dispose of him later."

"Another donation to the museum?"

"Not this time. I think he'll make a fine aphid instead, that way our gardener will be able to settle his score with him."

Rolfo wasn't even pretending to be listening to what was being said anymore. He couldn't believe his eyes. He took a step towards the window and the two mafiosi, deep in their discussion, didn't notice it immediately.

"Keep your evening free, we'll be paying a visit to the mayor tonight. I'm getting tired of the spies he keeps sending here."

"Tonight? Hey, do you know how much it cost me to book the entire restaurant?"

The Don cleared his throat as if suddenly reminded of the other two's presence: "The sooner the better. I'm sure she won't mind. You'll reschedule your date later."

Mista was about to protest, but he fell silent as he realized where the gardener was standing: "Hey man, what the...-"

But Rolfo overstepped his role again to cut him off. His eyes shining with emotion, he turned towards the mighty Giorno Giovanna and addressed him as if he was a true deity.

"How...- How did you...? This is prodigious Signore!"

Behind him, blocking the light from the window, were proudly standing three beautiful unscathed roses branches.

━━━━━ ༻ 🚗 ༺ ━━━━━

Alfredo waked up completely startled as he heard someone bang on his window: dozing off at the wheel was a rookie mistake, he was well aware of that - but still.

"Hey open up!"

The underboss' voice was agitated - something very rare for such an easy-going man, so Alfredo immediately unlocked the doors and got out of the vehicle to assist him. Mista was backing up the big boss, a hand wrapped under his shoulders to help him stand.

The driver shot a panicked look at the small cottage they had just come from: what the hell had just happened in there?

Alfredo glanced at the Don's patent leather shoes - he was dressed as reverently as usual - and then at the underboss' worn-out leather jacket: even though they were clothed as if they were going to very different events, they had asked him to drop them at the same address: the mayor's private country hous. He had followed the itinerary scribbled on the paper an informer had given him a few hours before. It was the driver's special talent: being resourceful. Even without a precise address, he always knew how to bring his customers to the desired place.

His clients never asked him how it worked, and in return, he never made any remark on the state they would return to the car in. Or to question why they seemed so keen to surprise the mayor at such a late hour of the evening.

Alfredo was even willing to give an extra hand if needed, occasionally overstepping his role of a simple driver if the client was likely to be a good tipper.

He opened the passenger door for the mafia boss, but to his great surprise the latter stopped him right there:

"I'm fine. Just open the trunk instead."

Alfredo tensed up but said nothing as he went back to his seat to retrieve his leather gloves.

It was another kind of extra service: helping them to get rid of incriminating clues. Well, it wouldn't be the first body dumped in the back of his precious vehicle, and certainly not the last. As long as they would pay for the subsequential cleanup, he didn't mind.

"How many bottles have you stolen?," The underboss had ushered that question to the boss not discreetly enough, and the driver allowed himself a relieved sigh.

No bodies on the horizon, then?

No scandal of the mayor's disappearance making the headlines on the next day?

Great, he'd be able to go back to bed sooner.

As he passed next to the two mafiosi to open the trunk, Alfredo noticed the two bottles of prestigious champagne that the Don was clutching tightly against his. chest. Oh wow. The underboss, on the other hand, was eyeing Giorno with a bewildered look, as if it had just occurred to him that the mysterious gigantic box he had been forced to carry from the cottage contained more bottles.

"Guido please, go fetch me a last one," the Don was less assertive than usual - you could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

Alfredo awkwardly stood next to them in silence as he waited for his next instructions. Charcoal and emerald eyes were engaged in a long, fierce battle of dominance, neither of them breaking contact. Hell, it even seemed to Alfredo at some point that the Don fluttered his lashes - but that could also be exhaustion talking.

Years of working within that specific industry had taught Alfredo how they would inevitably settle that growing tension between them.

Once again, for as long as they would pay for the subsequential seats cleaning, he didn't care. It wouldn't be the first indecent make-out session to happen at the back of his precious vehicle, and probably not the last.

A partition wall was always between Alfredo and his clients. Until now, he had never managed to catch them red-handed, but he had heard of those rumors. And he, better than anyone else certainly, knew for a fact that the Don had never sought to have good company brought to him. He'd always travel to his secondary residence alone while the underboss was the kind of man who preferred to drive there by himself.

Apart from the occasional names slips, he had never witnessed any tender gesture, he had never overheard anything remotely ambiguous. The details that had tipped him off were more subtle, or well usually at least they were. They would simply sit a little too close to one another, with no free seat between them - the pair was never five feet apart so that to speak. But right now, unless he would turn off the parking lights, there was no way Alfredo could pretend he wasn't seeing the Don's right hand slowly lowering far too low along the other's back. It was clearly no longer a question of keeping his balance.

"Fine," the Don let out a dramatic sigh and the driver nearly said hallelujah - now that he had admitted defeat, they would be able to leave at last! "If you won't do it, then fine I'll ask our driver instead."

Holy shit, what the hell was going on that night?

Alfredo quietly took a step back to exit the scene but it was too late - both mafiosi were already looking at him. If they were seriously intending on making him break into the mayor's house, he sure hoped they were ready to give a real good tip.

Fortunately, the underboss shook his head and rolled his eyes (had they just swapped personalities?), before reluctantly talking: "'kay you win I'll go. But then, we're outta here." Mista put the box inside the trunk and headed back to the cottage, leaving the driver in the company of the big boss who didn't seem quite inclined to enter the car yet. So Alfredo had no choice but to stay with him outside, on the chilly night and very awkward silence.

It was only after the third hiccup of the Don that the realization came down to him: he wasn't injured by any means, he was just completely drunk.

"Umm," Alfredo knew he wasn't supposed to question his boss, but the silence between them was becoming seriously uncomfortable. "So were you celebrating something Signore?"

The mafia boss looked at him for a long moment - god, the poor driver sure hoped he hadn't made a mistake, before shrugging: "Not really. I simply like Champagne, especially when I'm not the one paying for it."

Who could have thought that someone who spent so much on luxury clothes could be stingy?

Alfredo decided to politely answer. "Yes, I've heard you own several vineyards in Europe Signore. It's clever, I'm sure you never run out it..."

At that, the mighty Giorno Giovanna ungraciously hiccuped again, and the driver had the decency to pretend not to notice it.

"Mhhh.. You don't get it," had the mafia boss just snorted in contempt? "It's not so much about the Champagne itself as it is about the pure satisfaction of having taken possession of it... The mere contentment in knowing that the stupid mayor will never be able to savor it now that it's mine, you know?"

No, of course, not. There was no way Alfredo could possibly relate to that: it must be one of those crazy rich people whims.

Not that he could say it out loud, of course. The night was getting colder and colder, so he hoped the underboss wouldn't take long to be back.

"Would you like a bottle?," the Don's question took him by surprise so the driver, out of reflex, shook his head.

"Good, or you would have had to convince Mista to go back."

The stingy rich bastard.

Alfredo couldn't believe he was thinking that of him, in any other situation he would never have allowed himself to think that of Giorno Giovanna, but there were at least eight bottles in the trunk, he had seen them. And the Don knew that.

Fortunately, the underboss chose that exact moment to reappear and slam the trunk door shut after charging it with two other bottles.

Discreet much?

But whatever, the Don seemed rather pleased with that and finally agreed to go inside the car - his customers' satisfaction was what mattered the most to Alfredo.

After all, with good service came good tippers.

And that night, in exchange for the obvious promise to keep his mouth shut about what he had witnessed, the underboss sure went overboard with the tip.

━━━━━ ༻ 🧹 ༺ ━━━━━

It was now 8:20 a.m.: even though the day had started way earlier for Agnese, she had had to wait for the mobsters living upstairs to rise and shine, so she could proceed to clean their rooms. It was by far the task she hated the most: grabbing her heavy cleaning cart, she pushed it towards what had to be the cleanest place of them all. The Don's private quarters, starting with his excessively large bathroom: since the fancy tiles there took the longest to dry, she would then continue with his connected bedroom.

However, as soon as she stepped foot inside, Agnese almost fainted at the horrible sight that met her eyes.

Clothes, confetti and popped balloons were scattered everywhere, pieces of glass were covering the soaked floor, and an astronomical amount of what furiously smelled like Champagne had been dumped into the bathtub, splattering the walls and the carpet- hell, it even seemed like some of it was still fizzing inside.

Up until now, she had thought that she had seen it all, that nothing that the most wicked mind was capable of, could possibly surprise her. But that was a whole new level of a mess.

Thankfully, the inscription on a balloon (the survivor, the only one that had not exploded yet) was what prompted her not to hand the culprit her immediate resignation letter.

The Don's birthday would only happen once a year.

And with some sheer luck, she'd be able to negotiate her well-deserved retirement before the next one.

That morning, Guido woke up because of a cuss word that reminded him very much of his native Italian countryside. He had no idea what time it was: Giorno's expensive alarm clock having been inadvertently smashed the night before. He yawned gleefully and stretched out his arms before turning to face the lumpy shape beside him.

The mighty Giorno Giovanna, drool on his chin, was muffled in his blanket, and it didn't seem from the look of it that he'd be getting up any time soon.

He was probably dealing with a hell of a hangover right now - served him right for the astronomical quantity of Champagne in which he had literally bathed and drowned. Giorno would decidedly never learn from his past mistakes. Well, he was very much looking forward to taunting his lover for years about that unfortunate late birthday episode.

There was no way the mafia boss would be able to conduct his meetings of the day - changing the planning wasn't something to worry about even though it would piss the hell out of Fugo for sure. Feeling compassionate about what was awaiting Giorno, he gently patted what he thought was his head (?) and smiled as he heard him grumble in return. How cute.

Guido finally stood up to start his day, he would smuggle him some Ibuproben later but first thing first, his much-awaited morning tinkle. And a long hot shower. Yeah, that way he would perhaps find a ploy to avoid dealing with Giorno's responsibilities instead of him. While he was not hungover, the late night's events had completely drained him of his energy.

Giorno's bathroom truly was something: it was way more spacious and tidier than his own. To him, it was a literal spa: cool extra-powerful water jets, a gigantic glass shower cabin AND a massive marble bathtub, a myriad of bottles of heavenly-smelling shampoo, conditioners, shower gels and body lotions everywhere - hell, there was even a housekeeper politely handing him a towel.

...

Holy shit.

Trying his best to cover his naked glory, Guido Mista could only stutter pitifully:

"Uhh.. Yeah, so about that new raise of yours we were discussin' the other day..."

This would only be the fourth time of the year, so at this point...

#giomis #misgio #misgio fanfic #giomis fanfic #misgio fic #giomis fic #giomis fanfiction #misgio fanfiction #giorno x mista #mista x giorno #one shot #giomis oneshot

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orangepanic · 3 years

Note

26, 31 and 32 for the ship meme pls

26. Have you noticed a pattern in your shipping? Is there a romantic dynamic you’re more drawn to?

I write a lot of pining and a lot of angst. Some of this I think is because I tend to be drawn to characters that are more serious, and especially ones that would put everything on the line to protect others, even at great personal cost. These characters also seem to think things through, study all the angles as it were, and therefore come up with every reason possible that the relationship isn't going to work before something forces them to take the leap (or not - which is why we have fanfiction). This is obviously how I write a lot of my Irosami, but it's also very true for other things I've shipped like Mandalorian/Cara Dune, Faramir/Eowyn, or Remus/Tonks. Which, now that I look at it, makes me realize I also tend to ship smart, slightly nerdy fighters with unapologetically badass ladies. Huh. I just noticed that. I choose to blame this on the original ship, Prince Lir/Lady Amalthea, from when I was like five. Dude slayed a dragon and wrote a poem in the same montage, then she saved her whole species. That's hard to top.

31. Talk about one of your favorite headcanons for a ship you love.

Oh boy, what to choose, what to choose. I guess one of the things I love about how I've spun up the Iroh/Asami dynamic in my head is that it's very quiet. Asami is somewhat social and they both have outward-facing jobs, so when they're alone together it comes out very soft and calm. I like to picture them in their downtime sitting in a room together, Iroh stretched out on the couch in his socks with a book or a big stack of briefings, Asami over at the table tinkering with a new design, both comfortably enjoying each other's presence while they make space to concentrate on their private passions. But every time one gets up they'll make sure to veer over to the other to deliver a quick kiss, head scratch, or snack.

32. Share five must-read fics.

Hmm. There are so many good ones. But since this is about shipping, I'll go with five fics that changed my mind about a ship to which I was previously indifferent. Maybe they'll change yours, too:

Of Milkshakes and Liars (T) by @old-and-new-friends is a fake-dating AU that makes Makroh effing adorable (as do many of their stories).

The Sunflower House (M) by @pongowayo made me take Sokkala seriously for the first time. Sokka and Azula unexpectedly reconnect later in life.

The Long Haul (G) by VellaNikola is a Zutara fic that actually made me cry. At the end of Katara's life, Zuko has something to say.

The Weight of Empire (T) by @wishingforatypewriter. I did not care about Baavira. I sure as hell do now. A collection of short vignettes during and after Kuvira's Earth Kingdom campaign.

hiemal (T) by @crookedmouth-mountainbones. An elegant gateway drug of sorts into the little world of Zhao/Yue. This was perhaps the biggest shipping surprise. As long as everyone is bit aged up, I'm totally team Fried Fish now.

#fanfic #shipping asks #answered #tlok #atla

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greatworldwar2 · 4 years

Text

• Bat Bombs

Bat bombs were an experimental World War II weapon developed by the United States. The bomb consisted of a bomb-shaped casing with over a thousand compartments, each containing a hibernating Mexican free-tailed bat with a small, timed incendiary bomb attached.

The bat bomb was thought up by a dental surgeon from Irwin, Pennsylvania named Lytle S. Adams, an acquaintance of First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt. The inspiration for Adams' suggestion was a trip he took to Carlsbad Caverns National Park, which is home to many bats. Adams wrote about his idea of incendiary bats in a letter to the White House in January 1942, little more than a month after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Adams was intrigued by the strength of bats and knew that they roosted before dawn. He also knew that most of the buildings in Tokyo were constructed of wood instead of concrete. He believed that if time-release incendiaries could be attached to bats, some kind of container holding them could be dropped over the city after dark and the bats would simply roost and burn Tokyo to the ground. The plan was subsequently approved by President Roosevelt. In his letter, Adams stated that the bat was the "lowest form of animal life", and that, until now, "reasons for its creation have remained unexplained". Of Adams, Roosevelt remarked, "This man is not a nut. It sounds like a perfectly wild idea but is worth looking into."

After Roosevelt gave the project his approval, it was relegated to the authority of the United States Army Air Force. Adams assembled the workers for the project, including the mammalogist Jack von Bloeker, actor Tim Holt, and a former gangster, among others. Von Bloeker and his assistant Jack Couffer, self-described "bat lovers", noted that it did not occur to them to question the "morality or the ecological consequences of sacrificing a few million bats". For the duration of the project, many members enlisted in the Air Force, where Adams quickly promoted them to "acting" non-commissioned officers. The team had to determine several variables to make the project feasible, including what kind of incendiaries could be attached to the bats, as well as the temperatures at which to store and transport them. They also had to decide what species of bat to use for the bombs. After testing several species, the Mexican free-tailed bat was selected. Adams had to ask for permission from the National Park Service to harvest large numbers of Mexican free-tailed bats from caves on government property. While the original plan was to arm the bats with white phosphorus, American chemist Louis Fieser joined the team and white phosphorus was replaced with Fieser's own invention, napalm.

Tests were used to determine how much napalm an individual bat could carry, determining that a 14 g (0.5 oz) bat could carry a payload of 15–18 g (0.53–0.63 oz). The napalm was stored in small cellulose containers dubbed "H-2 units". After trying several attachment methods, they decided to attach the H-2 unit to the bats using an adhesive, gluing them to the front of the bats. The bomb carrier was a sheet metal tube approximately 1.5 m (5 ft) in length. The inside of the tube was fitted with twenty-six circular trays, each of which was 76 cm (30 in) in diameter. In total, each bomb carrier could hold 1,040 bats. It was planned that the carrier would be deployed from an airplane, descending to an altitude of 1,200 m (4,000 ft) before deploying parachutes. The sides of the bomb carrier would then fall away, allowing the bats to disperse.

A series of tests to answer various operational questions were conducted. In one incident, the Carlsbad Army Airfield Auxiliary Air Base near Carlsbad, New Mexico, was set on fire on May 15th, 1943, when armed bats were accidentally released The bats roosted under a fuel tank and incinerated the test range. Following this setback, the project was relegated to the Navy in August 1943, who renamed it Project X-Ray, and then passed it to the Marine Corps that December. The Marine Corps moved operations to the Marine Corps Air Station at El Centro, California. After several experiments and operational adjustments, the definitive test was carried out on the "Japanese Village", a mockup of a Japanese city built by the Chemical Warfare Service at their Dugway Proving Grounds test site in Utah. Observers at this test produced optimistic accounts. The chief of incendiary testing at Dugway wrote, "A reasonable number of destructive fires can be started in spite of the extremely small size of the units. The main advantage of the units would seem to be their placement within the enemy structures without the knowledge of the householder or fire watchers, thus allowing the fire to establish itself before being discovered".

More tests were scheduled for mid-1944 but the program was cancelled by Fleet Admiral Ernest J. King when he heard that it would likely not be combat ready until mid-1945. By that time, it was estimated that $2 million (equivalent to $19 million today) had been spent on the project. It is thought that development of the bat bomb was moving too slowly, and was overtaken in the race for a quick end to the war by the atomic bomb project. Adams maintained that the bat bombs would have been effective without the devastating effects of the atomic bomb: "Think of thousands of fires breaking out simultaneously over a circle of forty miles [64 km] in diameter for every bomb dropped. Japan could have been devastated, yet with small loss of life." The infamous "Invasion by Bats" project was afterwards referred to by Stanley P. Lovell, director of research and development for Office of Strategic Services (OSS), whom General Donovan ordered to review the idea, as "Die Fledermaus Farce".

#world war 2 #second world war #military history #world war ii #history #american history #wwii #weird weapons #military technology #halloween #bats #japanese history #ww2

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avanalae · 4 years

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Hayden’s Cat

Here we go, all! Welcome to my fanfic for the glorious webcomic that is Hayden’s Notes! Please see the comic here on Tapas and check out the lovely creator, Yufei, here on Tumblr.

I warn you now that this is pretty much 5k words of pure self-indulgance. I wanted to write sass-baby Hayden with his reluctant softness taking care of something I made up so I could have a way of smothering and mothering the brat. So this is focused on Hayden and her, though Cat and Shy play a part, too, to varying extents.

So yeah, if that makes you interested at all, please enjoy! I’m not expecting many notes on this, but I didn’t write this for attention. I wrote it for myself and Yufei.

Fandom: Hayden’s Notes Characters: Hayden Carter, Cat, Shy, Original Female Creature Warnings: Mention of poaching and harm to creatures Rating: G Summary: Hayden is good at getting himself into messes and somehow coming out mostly alright in the end, sometimes even with a bonus! Things like a new artifact to examine, a riddle to solve, or a mystery to puzzle out. Or, sometimes, a new friend.

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It had been entirely unintentional.

Completely and utterly coincidental.

Honestly.

…

Alright, so maybe he has a problem sticking his nose into things but that’s not a bad quality. People are curious by nature, after all. But maybe in his case it leads to more problems than anything else.

But no matter how hard he tries, no matter his attempts to not get involved, what happens?

He gets involved.

Hayden had been on the hunt for a rare artifact making the rounds through the black market in town. Something like a monkey’s paw, according to the rumors, but rather more catastrophic. It sounded terribly interesting when he first heard of it, and he isn’t in the habit on denying himself. Day three into his investigation leads him to a warehouse. Obvious and so typical Hayden nearly feels his interest drop into nonexistence, but he plows on.

As it turns out, though, he’s going to have to reconsider the source this tip came from. Not only is the artifact not here, but he almost stumbles right into the middle of an illegal creature circus. Scrambling out of sight and cursing himself for not noticing the silencing wards sooner, he takes a moment to assess the situation.

He should leave.

In fact, he takes two whole steps back the way he came, fully intending to do just that.

But then there’s a crack of a whip and a pained trill from the stage. He looks back and seals his fate. This is going to be annoying.

After a heavy sigh and running his hands through his hair several times, he straightens and takes stock of himself. Not much in the way of supplies, unfortunately, just the standard things he takes when he leaves his house. Which, granted, is much more than the average person would have on hand, but is not nearly enough to easily take on this whole mess. So, he uses one of his emergency disillusion spells with a sigh at the cost of having to replace it.

He keeps them on hand because so many places, especially the not so legal ones, use detection spells for things like invisibility. However, because they are so often in use (usually in said illegal places), they often don’t check for most illusions.

He has only half an hour before it wears off, so he gets moving.

Hayden is very frustrated.

He swats at the shisa snapping at him from its cage once again, only making the lion-dog growl harder. While not actually part lion, they usually reflect similar mannerisms of them. However, they are dogs and are beasts meant to ward off evil spirits. A double whammy. At least the hellhound is only staring intently at him, pacing restlessly in its own cage. He’ll set their cages to release after he’s long gone.

The birds had been easy enough to free, and he sacrificed another item to send an illusion out to the stage for the daltokki he had already released. There aren’t many more creatures after that, and most of them don’t even acknowledge Hayden as they flee. Whatever, he’s not used to being thanked, anyway.

Finally, he gets to the last cage (aside from the dogs, of course). It’s a small one on top of a crate. Inside is a young cat, likely not quite a full adult yet. Its curled up, staring at him, and Hayden takes a closer look. Its fur is dark brown, almost black, with bright eyes that are fully blue. There’s a slight darker hue that follows his movements, hinting at a separate pupil or the like.

Its unhealthily skinny and shaggy, with- oh. He steps closer, not responding to the tensing and hiss he receives. He can see ragged stumps on its back.

A katzengeist, he thinks as he runs through what he knows. A very reclusive and relatively solitary species. Not necessarily malicious but most definitely mischievous, typically heavily distrustful of humans. Generally small shapeshifting spirits with coveted illusionary capabilities, relatively limited power over the elements, and other minor abilities. They are born as cats with wings, though they can take many shapes as they grow in age and ability, they often have a preferred form aside from that one.

As it is, this one should be able to use its abilities to heal itself, to mend its wings and escape. However, Hayden is quite sure it is currently unable to. He glances between the undernourished form, weak trembling, and the iron cage. Signs that it wouldn’t be able to escape, let alone survive on its own for now.

He sighs and mentally rolls his eyes at himself. He is going much too soft. None of the others had been in good shape either, but at least they could run away. “Hey, if I release you, will you allow me to take you home and treat you?”

The swishing tail stills, and the threatening rumble stops. It stares at him incredulously.

“Come on, we don’t have much time. I can show you my home and you can stay there until you recover.” Its tail flicks once but otherwise it remains still. “You won’t be alone, of course. Other creatures stay with me or tend to come and go.” There’s faint noise coming from the stage now, clapping, possibly.

Hayden gives it a moment, trying to be patient. It pays off when the katzengeist huffs and relaxes. He nods and opens the cage quickly, helping it out of the confined space. With the catlike creature in his arms, he takes one last once-over of the room and checks the cages with the growling shisa and the tense hellhound.

Then he’s gone, hurrying away so the dogs can escape in time. He may hate the beasts, but he hates abusive humans more.

The katzengeist is mostly limp in his hold, but the weight is hardly an issue with its unhealthy size. He gets some struggle when he maneuvers it to check for immediate injuries and barely dodges another scratch to the face when he checks for gender. “Sorry, sorry, just wanted to check. I didn’t think you’d be up for answering me right now, don’t give me that look.” He gets an annoyed huff in response. “Besides, I didn’t want to keep calling you ‘it’ in my head when there was an easy way to check. I imagine I won’t be getting your name anytime soon, so I guess I’ll call you ‘Little Lady’ for now, if that’s fine.”

He’s almost to the library when he finally gets a response. So long, in fact, that he doesn’t realize what it was a response to, at first. But she goes limp in his hold and whacks his arm with her tail. A reluctant agreement, but agreement, nonetheless. She stays compliant as he adjusts her to dig his key out of his pocket and open the door to his place.

“Welcome to my humble abode!” Hayden says dramatically, spreading the arm that isn’t holding Little Lady with some flair as they enter. Tossing the keys aside he strides over to the stairs. “I’m sure you’ll like it here, for however long you end up staying. You’ll meet everyone in time, it’d take forever to try and introduce you, considering how often they all like to hide away or come and go.” When he reaches the bottom, it’s unusually quiet. Not very surprising, it often is when someone else comes in with him, let alone someone or something unknown.

“Everyone, this is Little Lady. We’re going to help her heal for a bit until she feels ready to go, alright?” Lady’s tail twitches at the shift in the aura of the room. It’s not benign, but it’s welcoming enough to assure Hayden that no one or nothing is going to jump out right now. “See, it’ll be okay. I’m sure you’ll all get along fine.”

Hayden carries Little Lady over to the small table he set aside for treating injuries. A little health station of sorts. Not that he usually needs it, but it’s handy to have in situations like this. The young katzengeist is docile as he treats her, cleaning her up the best he can before covering the wounds. He’ll assume for now that until she’s stronger things will be slower to heal.

“Alright,” he comes back to check on her, “I’ve set up a little corner for you that you can adjust to your liking.” He holds out his hands and she sighs before leaning into him so it’s easier to pick him up. He holds her gently and carries her over to the basket where he’d added several soft blankets, towels, and other scraps he could find. The basket is a large thing from an old job, so he thinks it’ll work fine if she decides to grow some more while she’s here. “I added what I could find on short notice. You can poke around later to see if there’s anything you’d like to add. I just ask that you leave anything that looks like it’s being used or is in the closet alone.”

She pokes around at the cloth as she settles in, nudging things around as she adjusts her new temporary nest. “I’m sure you’ll leave the artifacts and such alone. I’m not sure why anyone would want things like that in their beds, regardless of having seen the things I have.” He grimaces at the thought but is quickly distracted as she finishes curling up. She’s mostly buried under the blankets, but she seems quite comfortable. “Alright, I’ll leave you to get some rest. I’ll have some food for you in the morning, sorry that I don’t really have anything right now. There’s water for you here,” He gestures to a small bowl near the basket and stands to stretch.

He walks away to get ready to meet with his own bed at last. Once he’s tucked under the covers, he finds himself listening for the soft breathing of his new tenant. It’s soft, but not nearly as labored as it was, with the occasional sigh along with the rustle of the blankets when she shifts.

His fingers find a familiar scar to rest on.

“Humans truly are… the cruelest of species, aren’t they?”

The next week isn’t too unusual, even with his new visitor. Little Lady is rather quiet and hardly leaves her little nest except to eat, use the facilities (she’d nearly bit him when he suggested a litterbox so he just leaves the bathroom available for her), and sit near him on occasion when he’s working on a project.

Shy had come out the third day of her stay and they had hit it off surprisingly well. His familiar is the only one she’ll let close, though that’s not a surprise, considering how cute the shadow speck can be. She also seems to at least tolerate the calbri – an ancient spirit that takes the form of a hummingbird – that he had stolen from poachers to study before returning it home. It’ll flutter around her and occasionally she’ll let it rest on her head.

Like he thought, she was getting stronger quickly. She moved much better, often hopping up on the table to see what he’s working on, and her wings had almost fully reformed. She appeared to have wings similar to a blue morpho butterfly, and he was hoping that she’d let him take a look before she left. He’d not seen one with insect wings before, though really, he’d only seen two and that was on accident and didn’t end well for him, so he probably shouldn’t count it.

Two weeks in, he brings home a pod.

When Cat first blooms, Little Lady starts sitting by its pot more often. Cat grows more quickly than a regular plant, of course, but she hardly seems to leave its side before it is 3 feet tall and much more active. Hayden is already growing fond of the pretentious little plant. It has plenty of personality, that’s for sure, and seems to be quite happy with him.

Speaking of, however… He glances at Lady. She’s almost completely healed at this point. Her wings are fully formed again, large and glimmering. She has put on weight, looking much healthier and is moving without any issue. But something seems to be holding her back, something that is weighing on her. Perhaps she’s thinking about asking to stay.

Hayden rubs the back of his neck.

He guesses he wouldn’t mind. She’s not usually any trouble, at least not to him. She is quite the trickster and gives as good as she gets when the others prank or pester her, but she doesn’t usually go out of her way to do so unless she’s quite bored or has a reason. She seems to enjoy spending time with him quietly, as well, considering how often she sits with him as he works. She has also started greeting him at the door, of all things. Sure, it’s from a few feet away, but when he gets back, she’s there waiting. She’ll watch as he eventually makes his way downstairs before moving and leaping down to continue with whatever she’d presumably been doing before he’d returned.

It’s nice, in a way. The waiting and quiet company.

And Hayden was aware enough of his own selfishness that he understands he doesn’t want to give that up.

Three weeks later and Cat has continued to grow. Shy and Little Lady continue to grow closer, and really start involving Cat with things. It’s hilarious to watch, because Cat has a way of bringing Lady’s childish side out; he’ll find her leaping from vine to vine on Cat as Shy chases her or the other way around. Things like that. He smiles when he sees it, it’s good for such a young creature to start acting more her age.

To show that the fight hasn’t left her.

A month in, he notices Little Lady stares at him more frequently when she thinks he isn’t looking.

One night he spots her on the way to get a drink. She sits upstairs, looking at the door. Just sitting, staring at the door, almost completely still aside from the occasional twitch of her tail.

The next morning, he catches her looking at him again but this time she doesn’t look away. She stares at him intently, her tail flicking twice.

He quirks a smile and tilts his head at her but doesn’t say anything.

Guess there’s no getting rid of her now.

Several days after she had decided to stay, Hayden is working on a project. He’s focused intently on the sculpture in from of him, trying to decrypt the runes carved into the sides. His head is propped up against a fist while the other hand taps the pen he holds against the table. He’s aware of Little Lady being on the table with him, she’d been there for a while and was watching Cat when he last looked.

He blinks at a tap against his arm. He turns his head, not bothering to move otherwise, yet. He chokes a bit when he comes face-to-face with Little Lady. She is sitting right next to the arm he’s propped his head on, her tail tapping at him as it sways. He stills, watching her, and she… she noses at his hand.

Hardly daring to move much, he slowly lifts his head and turns his hand just a bit-

And she leans in, her head fitting easily into the curve of his fingers. He scratches absent-mindedly, eyes sharp as she closes hers, letting him pet her for several minutes. He indulges her, relaxing a bit more himself, and manages a laugh when she butts her head against his hand to stop him. She turns and hops off the table, then, and pads off to do who-knows-what.

Hayden rubs his thumb and forefingers together, smiling. He can’t help but be glad at this moment, the first where she approached him instead of allowing contact for any number of reasons. But he knows what this means.

He’s the only one around here with human hands, after all, and nobody gives better scritches.

The sock in his hands is just a regular sock, he thinks.

Hayden stretches the material again, trying to identify what happened. He’s sure he had discarded this sock and its twin when the holes had become too bothersome. They were one of his favorite pairs, so he’d been reluctant to part with them, but sentimentality doesn’t help with blisters. Yet here they are, in much better condition.

He squints harder at it and takes off the one he’d just put on before noticing this to look at as well. They’ve been mended, it looks like, with some skill. They aren’t perfectly fixed, having been used far too long and far too much, but they could definitely withstand some more wear. He can’t help but try and puzzle it out, running his fingers along the fabric to find that they’ve been darned with thread, the color an almost exact match.

What or who would be mending his clothes? And how? And, actually, the better question would be why?

He decides to keep an eye out for now.

Little things go missing, sometimes, though certain things reappear after a while. His clothes, specifically.

On one memorable occasion, he’d thought he’d misplaced a shirt he’d unfortunately be stabbed through on a job. But one morning as he was getting dressed, he found it hanging in his closet, as pristine as it could have been. Not a speck of blood or sign of the rip. Well, not quite, as he can feel the slight bump of the stitching when he looks for it, but close enough. Suddenly mad with curiosity, he throws himself into his closet. He doesn’t have much in the way of clothes, so it doesn’t take too long in comparison to some other things he’s done spur-of-the-moment.

Hayden finds that 3 of his shirts have been fixed aside from that one, along with half of his pants and most of his socks.

“What is…?” He narrows his eyes and thinks. There are only so many creatures in his apartment right now aside from him, and not all of them would be able to do things like this. And he’s not sure on how many of those would be willing to or want to do such a thing.

He thinks further, looking back on the last week as well as he can. He’d been out on RSS business for a few days and had come back quite annoyed, but with a new, exciting project successfully snatched out from right under Wolfe’s nose. He’d been rather absorbed in that, but now that he thinks about it…

He glances over to the table by his bed. The glass he’d left there last night is gone. Half-dressed, he jogs over to the sink, and spots it quickly – washed and placed on the shelf with the few other dishes he has. He makes his way around the rooms, finding little, innocuous things. The blanket draped over his favorite chair has been neatened, folded, and laid more purposefully. The papers he’d scattered on the table in his search for a specific one are in neater piles, similarly to where they had been before his impatient search.

The chair at the worktable scrapes against the floor when Hayden falls into it. He hides his face in his hands, rubbing in sudden frustration. How, exactly, had he not noticed this? “Ugh,” he pulls on his own cheek in punishment, “I can’t believe this. Is this some sort of prank?” He sighs and slumps further. Cat prods him with a vine and he doesn’t bother to react to it, too caught up in thoughts of an invader or some sort of-

“Urk-“ he chokes as he’s yanked back, the chair almost tipping too far before it lets go and he manages to fumble for balance. “Cat!” He turns and glares, but Cat only whacks him on his forehead. He covers the stinging with one hand, “What in the world is going on with you?”

Suddenly Shy hops up from the table to his shoulder, making questioning noises.

“What, I,” Hayden blinks, “I, uh, I’m fine.” Cat raises another vine and he jumps back, almost sending the chair over again, “I am! I’m just, well.” He weakly waves a hand at the room at large. “Have you guys noticed the whole…” he waves some more, searching for the words, “cleaning, uh, fixing… thing?”

He trails off and waits for any response, but Shy blinks off his shoulder and Cat very obviously turns her attention to other things.

Huh.

Well, the fact that they blatantly know what’s going on is sort of encouraging. In its own way.

Kind of.

In the end, it takes an embarrassing week of trying to figure it out, one job from the RSS turned down (much to uninteresting), subtle and not-so-subtle interrogation of his “flat mates,” and rather more spells than he thought he’d have to use, he finally gets it.

In the end, all it took was just paying more attention. Which is so much harder than people think or say it is, Hayden swears.

He started paying more attention to the things that appear around him. A fruit or other easy to prepare and eat snacks happen to appear on the table when he gets caught up in something and misses meals. Sometimes things he’s quite sure he didn’t get on the last grocery run will appear, which is even more interesting. Things he’s searching for, like his chisel or a dropped screw, will be easier to find or will show up in places he thought he’d already looked. However, it’s usually just small things, but that might also be because it’s typically harder to lose something large.

All these little things start adding up and eventually Lady Luck pokes him at just the right moment.

It’s the middle of the night when it happens, and since Hayden’s been a bit more high-strung recently due to the mystery, he wakes when he hears a subtle noise. He blinks sleepily, but registers another noise before he moves, so he plays dead while trying to look around as best he can. There’s a bit of a shimmer in the corner and he blinks away the last little bit of sleep.

There’s a little ball of faelight floating just above a small figure, sitting on the cabinet in the corner. It’s rather humanoid, and Hayden wishes he had his glasses on, but he does his best. It looks a bit childlike, but another minute makes him tentatively decide on female, at least in mannerisms. Dark brown hair curls around her shoulders and luminescent blue eyes focus on what in front of her. She’s wearing a simple cover, possibly some plain tunic that is sleeveless and covers her down to the knee. He looks for the ears but can’t see them from this distance or through her hair.

He suddenly notices she’s holding a sewing needle, one that is probably as big as her arm, and Hayden realizes it’s a standard needle. He didn’t realize he had any outside of the ones used for stitching wounds. Unless that’s what it was, but he can clearly see fabric around her once he looks. She fumbles with the large (comparatively) implement for a moment before focusing and running the needle through the cloth.

It’s certainly an odd thing to see and he doesn’t realize what exactly he’s watching until she shifts, and little wings furl out to help her lift off the table as she pulls the stitch tighter.

He chokes and she startles, dropping the needle and darting into the shadow of the cabinet’s shelves.

Bolting upright, Hayden does his best not to fall off the bed, “W-Wait!” He stands, but falters in his first step forward. Swallowing, he stops, scratching at his cheek. There’s no noise or movement, all but the two of them fast asleep, though Cat seems to be stirring at his quiet outburst. He looks over, a bit closer and at a better angle now that he’s standing and sees the familiar bundle of his coat.

“That’s…” he sighs, and his hand rises to run through his hair. “Sorry for startling you like that, Little Lady.”

She doesn’t respond, but there’s a slight shift in the shadow.

After a minute of the quiet, he steps back and sits on the edge of his bed. “You don’t have to come out, but can I talk?” No response. “You’re sneakier than I gave you credit for, that’s for sure. I didn’t notice until about two weeks ago that something was up. Who knows how long you’d been doing it! It’s quite impressive.

“It really threw me for a loop, you know. I never bother with such things, myself, and haven’t really had anyone to do those kinds of things for me… well, let’s just say a long time since I’d even thought about it.” He looks over to Cat, who is definitely awake, and has little tendrils creeping towards the both of them. He doesn’t know for what, though, so he keeps on guard. “And I’m sure you’ve been going out to get things, like the fruit and nuts I’m positive I’ve never gotten before. And the mending…” He looks back over to the jacket, and then back at the shadow she’s hiding in. “Thanks, Little Lady.”

The shadow brightens, just a bit, with a soft blue glow before dimming quickly.

Hayden sighs, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have surprised you like this. I certainly didn’t intend too. I’ll leave you be.” One of Cat’s vines tickles his ankle and he lifts his foot away, bringing his legs up onto the bed. “I bet you knew about this, didn’t you, Cat?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Cat’s rumble is evidence enough.

He turns and pulls the covers back up, trying to let go of the surprise and other, lingering emotions so he can get back to sleep. He can see a faint light through his closed eyes at some point, but he lets himself just fall into sleep that had quickly started tugging at him.

The next day, his coat is hanging on the rack and Lady is nowhere to be found in any form.

Hayden starts growing concerned when a week passes and he still hasn’t seen her. The little things keep happening, especially the snacks when he gets distracted, but they aren’t as frequent. He’s a bit of a talker anyway, so he’ll occasionally mention something like he would if she were there or will say thanks for the snacks when they appear. Unfortunately, Wolfe decides to drag him out one day for a case and it takes a few days before he can escape back home. He doesn’t have any new toys, but he does have some interesting information to mull over for a while.

He lets out a gusty sigh when he closes the door behind himself, tossing his keys aside and his coat in the direction of the rack. He stumbles down the stairs, half tired and half annoyed at Wolfe, straight to the kitchen area for a drink. “I’m home,” he manages after a long draft of water, patting Cat’s head when it curls around him.

Wandering over to his bed, he sits on the edge, contemplating going to sleep for the night this early when he catches something. He blinks and looks over to the bed-side table and sees Little Lady. She’s sitting on the edge of it, looking up at him with those big, blue eyes. The cup he’d set down on the table is full of water once more and there’s a damp cloth next to it.

She watches him closely as he reaches out and takes the cloth, surprisingly warm and damp, though not wet enough to drip. He cleans his face of the dust and grime, feeling better for it. He keeps it in his hands as they drop to his lap and he looks at her, taking in more of the details. Her thick hair is has bit of a curved cut, falling to the just to the base of her neck in the back and to her clavicle in the front. It curls slightly at the ends, the newer, shorter hairs by her face curl cutely against her cheeks. The tunic is as plain as he thought it was and is a bit ragged. He doesn’t want to ask where it came from, having a bit of an idea already.

“Hey, Little Lady, good to see you.” She looks down and kicks her bare feet a little. Her wings are lax, drooping against the table and he hopes that means she’s not about to dart away. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She looks up at him again, still kicking her feet. He stares when she opens her mouth.

“Lia.”

Her voice is a bit bell-like, though still a soft tone. He wonders if that was always her name, but it doesn’t matter, does it?

“Nice to meet you properly, then, Little Lia.”

He can’t help but chuckle when she huffs and looks down again, a bit of a blush on her cheeks despite her frown. Cat shoves him a bit, but it’s not aggressive, so he lets himself laugh a bit more.

Little Lady.

Lia.

#Hayden's Notes #Haydens Notes #Hayden Carter #Yufei #fanfiction #ava fics #comics #webcomics #creatures #mythology #mythical creatures #etc

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