#landfall has began it seems

[buttercuparry]

[ghastimart]

oh god, see me

so all the scrapped ending content keeps making me sad. good thing i have an au where happy endings are the inevitable! didn't feel like posting this to ao3 yet so if you don't have context to the ocs mentioned / used don't think too hard about it.

Sebastian reunites with Mama Solace after years of separation and coverups.

words; 2,662

Things had settled into a state of calm. 

P.AI.nter, decidedly, liked the Aquarium. After hours, he was allowed to roam - a makeshift body on wheels allowing him to take the elevator down and cart around as he desired, painting scenes from the tanks and the waterpark, going up to the roof to catch sunrises and sunsets and clear nights. 

Anything, anything was better than the cold and unfeeling gray of the Blacksite’s halls. They felt so much happier – despite Sebastian’s warnings and misgivings about the Ministry, their trust had proven well-placed so far.

Everyone seemed happier, really. Viorel had managed to call his dad when they made landfall and wept on the phone. Cephei had seemed intrigued by all the things land had to offer, running around with Echo whenever the park was closed to poke around. Millie had been relearning to dance on her new legs, Tobias and Elliot – already inseparable – had made a habit of camping out around every corner of the place, treating every night like date night as if making up for lost time. And Audie, of course, had been over the moon to be back in their element, socializing with all the staff at the Aquarium to catch up on what they’d missed.

So that left Sebastian. Sebastian, who still hadn’t fully taken his ease ever since they arrived onsite. Sebastian, who always eyed the staff that had been taking care of them with a critical eye, who growled whenever one of the doctors approached a member of their hodgepodge “family” unexpectedly. Sebastian, who refused to let himself relax, anticipating another betrayal. 

“One of us has to be vigilant,” He’d grunted in reply one day when P.AI.nter asked why he was so on-edge; “The Ministry is no different from Urbanshade. I don’t trust it, and I won’t let us get hurt again.”

Still, it felt unfair. They’d been there for half a month by this point, readjusting to living on the surface, waiting for the proper procedures to play out between the Ministry and Urbanshade to guarantee they wouldn’t be hunted down or “reclaimed”. At the Aquarium, at the very least, they were protected - Director Hart assured them of that much, so Sebastian deserved to relax. 

But how?

His own abilities were still woefully limited, in the body he had currently. He thought about what they could do, rather than what they couldn’t; what Sebastian had longed for most in their time underwater. And a memory came to mind.

They’d never told Sebastian, but on more than one occasion, they’d caught a breakdown on the cameras – watching silently as he curled up in the far corner of a room he’d been scavenging in, or simply fled to, and wept, calling out for his mother in a state of weakness he wanted no-one to see. 

His mother, then. Surely it couldn’t be hard, now that they were connected to the internet again. Humming with certainty, P.AI.nter began to browse the web, windows popping open and closed on their screen as they sat in the corner of the group’s shared room, alone for now. It was dinner, after all – and he, being the only one without a stomach to fill, decided to skip it in favour of his brainstorming. Circuitstorming. Whatsoever it was called – a good move, because he could move in secret like this. 

Articles about the arrest. Interviews. Names – his sister’s. Her Facebook. Contacts, and –

There she was. 

… Now what?

He grunted to themself, puzzling over the question. It had been so long, would she really bite a stranger messaging her saying, “Hey, your son’s alive! Come get him!”? 

It seemed foolish to try, but he had no other starting point. So, making up a quick burner account, he opened a private message to her and shot it off.

> Mrs.Solace? You don’t know me, but I know your son. He’s alive. Would you like to meet him?

—

“Sebastian?”

His earfin flicked as he emerged from the water, shaking out his hair. Audie hopped out beside him, sitting on the edge of the pool. The dolphins continued to swirl around his tail, occasionally nosing at him to try and instigate play again until he hauled himself fully out and slapped the surface with his tailfin to make them disperse. 

Director Hart stood in the entryway to the room, seeming troubled as she approached them, and he grimaced. 

“Did Echo get stuck somewhere again? Cephei said they were watching them,” He huffed impatiently; “Go bother it for –”

“No, Sebastian, it’s… We have a visitor asking for you.”

“What?”

Him and Audie’s voices answered in unison, both of them stiffening as their minds jumped to the worst. He glanced down to them, jerking his head. 

Urbanshade – it has to be Urbanshade.

“Get everyone in the room.”

“Right.”

As they collected a towel and hurried off, he faced Director Hart, growling lowly.

“What do they want?”

“It’s… A woman, Sebastian, I don’t think she’s the threat you think she is,” The Director spoke slowly, searching his gaze; “Wayland’s taken her to one of the conference rooms to wait for now. She was very insistent that you were here.”

“You told her I wasn’t, right?”

“Of course. That's the procedure. But she started making more of a scene.”

“Fuck.”

As he dried himself off as well, throwing his clothes back on, she received a message on her phone, and read it quickly, her brow furrowing.

“... Oh.”

“What now?”

“Audie wants you in the room. You - oh.”

At her softer, more knowing sound, he furrowed his brow, his tail lashing with agitation. She paused, then looked back up at him with a nod, clearing her throat.

“Come find me in the employee lobby when you’re ready.”

With nothing more, she turned and left. He paused for a moment, puzzling it out for a moment before he grunted and made his way upstairs, checking himself to make sure his tail didn’t dent the walls as he went.

—

“You what.”

P.AI.nter flinched as Sebastian snarled, standing at his full height, his shoulders brushing the ceiling as the rest of the polycule shuffled around nervously. 

“I just – you’ve always wanted to see her again! Haven’t you?!”

“You don’t get to be the one to decide that! Fuck, P.AI.nter!”

His anger gave way to panic as he drew a claw through his hair, his tail lashing and knocking over a chair. Cephei and Echo flinched from the noise, and Elliot growled in turn, leaning forward to press a hand against Sebastian’s tail.

“Hey. They were only trying to do something nice.” 

“I just –”

He broke off with a sound that sounded somewhere between a snarl and a whine, shaking his head and coiling around the room restlessly, his hands shaking. The rest of the team watched with worry and sympathy, waiting until he finally stilled before they moved again.

He lowered himself down at a gentle tug against his shirt, enjoying the warmth of Audie’s hands against his face first, then Tobias and Elliot on either side after, running their own fingers through his hair to ease him down. 

“... I can’t see her like this,” He croaked; “I’m not…”

A million words went unsaid, and he shook his head.

“... What if she’s scared of me?”

“She won’t be,” Millie said from her perch on the bed, so sure.

“What if she doesn’t recognize me?”

“She will,” Viorel insisted from beside P.AI.nter’s desk, also confident in his words.

“How do you know?”

He opened his eyes to meet Audie’s gaze, and they were the one who smiled at him, squishing his cheeks gently.

“Because she loved you enough to come now. Don’t keep her waiting anymore, Sebaba.”

Conflicting emotions haunted his chest and mind as he took the elevator minutes later, coiled into a ball. Though they’d all asked if he wanted company, he’d denied it – this task was herculean enough without his partners looming over his shoulder to watch the inevitable breakdown. 

As the doors opened and doctors breezed by, Director Hart was standing in the lobby, perking up at his approach. He swallowed, trying to keep his tail from doing anxious knots as he nodded.

Wordless, she led the way. 

This hallway, he knew, led to a veterinary entrance to the Aquarium, but a left turn before that brought them to the conference rooms. He counted three doors before she stopped and knocked on the door. Some hushed words were exchanged, and Wayland came out, nodding respectfully at Sebastian as he passed by. Director Hart turned to Sebastian proper after that, holding the door handle for a moment.

“I’ll be waiting just outside whenever you’re ready.”

“Sure… Thanks, I guess.”

With a nod from her, she opened the door, and he hesitated before slithering inside slowly, keeping the light on his esca out for now.

His mother stood up the moment she watched him enter. She had not aged gracefully – the stress and grief of the past decade had taken its toll. She looked exhausted, haunted and haggard. 

Her eyes were wide as she took him in. He watched as she looked him up and down, absorbing how much he’d changed. How inhuman he was.

Surely, He thought, She doesn’t recognize this. How could she?

He hated this.

Every moment he dreamed of just being home again, eating one of her meals, hugging her one last time, it had been undercut by what he’d become. Not just in the sense of his mutations, though that played a massive part. 

No, he’d been an innocent man when he last saw his mother. Now, there was blood on his hands, and not every kill had been necessary. 

So here he was; a monster by every definition, hunching his shoulders as he met eyes with the woman who’d given him life in the first, who he’d wanted to see - who now, he would give anything to avoid.

She stepped forward, and reached out. Against his better judgment, he lowered himself to meet her touch, the tears gathering in his eyes from the first moment her hands graced his face.

“Mijo,” She said, the word dripping with grief and love, and suddenly Sebastian was a child again.

“Mamá.”

He was much larger than her now, but that didn’t stop his mother from pulling him to her chest and holding him as close as he could while he utterly shattered in her arms, sobs wracking his body. All three of his own arms wrapped around her, loose – too frightened of his own strength, but just as frightened to let go of her, in case this was just an illusion after all.

He’d hallucinated before. But not now, not as her hands curled into his hair and brushed it into place just like she used to.

“Oh, my baby,” She whispered; “What did they do to you, Sebastian? My poor baby boy…”

“How –” He choked up, shuddering, his eyes screwed up; “ – How did you know it was – it was me? I’m nothing like… I’m not who I was.”

“How could I not?”

She pulled back –  the gesture felt like pulling broken glass from his skin, but he allowed it so he could meet her gaze – and she held his face tightly between her hands, her expression intense and serious.

“I would know you the second I saw you no matter what happened, mijo, you’re my son. That hasn’t changed.”

“... God.”

More tears spilled down his cheeks, and he pulled his mother a little closer, shutting his eyes. His ears flicked as she brushed his hair out of his face. A touch he’d longed for for so long, a touch he couldn’t get enough of, he never would.

—

“How do you think they’re doing in there?”

“Just fine,” Viorel assured P.AI.nter, patting the top of his monitor as the group sat down at their usual table; “We’d definitely know by now if it went badly. It’s been years – give them some time.”

“Mmh…”

The AI’s fans had been humming at maximum since the confrontation before Sebastian left, all too anxious that they’d done the wrong thing. Despite everyone’s attempts to assure him otherwise, P.AI.nter couldn’t help stressing. 

It wouldn’t be the first time it had miscalculated a gesture. But to do it over something so heavy felt – it felt –

“Stop overthinking.”

He yelped as Echo flicked his screen, switching gears to glare down at them grumpily.

“Hey! I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!!”

“Jesus, here they go again,” Millie sighed as Tobias snickered, reaching over to tug Echo away. 

“Guys?”

Everyone halted and perked to attention at Sebastian’s voice, eyes widening and shoulders squaring as they noticed the woman standing beside him. He fidgeted, uncharacteristically bashful as he wrung his hands together, his ears twitching and flapping while the woman looked from person to person. 

“This is, uh… Hm. I’d, uh, like you to meet my mom.”

“Oh!”

Audie and Cephei’s tails both started to wag, and the former stood up abruptly to offer a little bow of respect that Echo mimicked uncertainly. 

“Mrs. Solace! It’s a pleasure!”

Similar words were offered around the table, and Sebastian coughed softly, leaning down to speak to her directly – pointing out each person as he introduced them.

“That’s Tobias and Elliot, Viorel, Millie, Audie, Cephei, Echo, and P.AI.nter. They’re er… Family, I guess, that I met underwater.”

“Mrs.Solace!”

P.AI.nter hurried over, their wheels squeaking on the cafeteria floor as they met her gaze for the first time – and while taken aback by his rushed approach, she didn’t seem offput, merely blinking as he smiled awkwardly.

“It’s me – I was – I’m the one who messaged you! That was me!”

“Oh – oh! That was you! I – I owe you a lot, then, don’t I?”

“No, no! It was my pleasure,” He practically squeaked out, beaming at her properly now; “I – I wanted to help you two reunite. It means everything to me that you came.”

“Why… Did you come?”

Sebastian tilted his head as he finally posed that question, quirking a brow at his mother.

“I mean – some shady nameless guy messages you saying he knows about your missing adult kid, and you fly halfway across the world? Should I be worried?”

“Ay – have some respect,” She tsked, swatting his arm lightly and earning a laugh from a few of his partners at the table; “I didn’t believe him blindly.”

“She really didn’t. There was a lot of skepticism and questioning,” P.AI.nter agreed. Sebastian simply grunted, his tail thumping softly against the ground as he accepted that answer. 

“Good evening friends! I see we have another face joining us for dinner – any allergies or sensitivities we should be aware of, ma’am?”

Elaine – Chef Nichols – smiled as she stepped over to the table, clipboard in hand, and Mrs. Solace shook her head, smiling.

“Oh, no, nothing that I know of!”

“That’s my favourite thing to hear! Alright, squishies, what’ll it be?”

“Actually –”

Sebastian started, then hesitated, fidgeting with his jabbot for a moment as he looked down at his mom.

“... I don’t want to ask too much of you, mamá, but… Can you… Can you make some of your empanadas? It’s… I really missed them, and –”

“Ay, mijo... Of course. Why don’t we make them together?” 

His ears wiggled as she snagged one of his hands, and he nodded with a creeping smile. Elaine squeaked with joy, eagerly inviting them into the kitchen. 

P.AI.nter returned to their spot as chatter broke out amongst those who remained at the table, watching Sebastian and his mother dance around Elaine and Giselle behind the counter. For the first time, Sebastian seemed genuinely at ease and happy, and it made P.AI.nter feel warmer.

Viorel nudged him, earning a grunt.

“Told ya.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m just glad he’s happy.”

“You and me both.”

[rwac96]

G-Clone Project: Gojera/Godzerra (April Fools)

Subject # 4: Humanoid Kaiju/G-Cell endowed atomic mutant/ "Kaiju Girl"

(image by Witchking00)

HEIGHT: 80 Meters

LENGTH: 180 Meters

MASS: 50,000 Metric Tons

Based on a project suggestion by roboticist Dr. Hideo Shida, creator of the 'RoboMusume' anti-Kaiju weapon during his last days before his passing. In the aftermath of Godzilla's (II) rampage throughout Tokyo, not only the city was doused in radiation but the Monster King left behind samples of its body. "G-Cells", christened by Dr. Genichiro Shiragami, are a rare and dangerous commodity sought after by multiple governments, organizations, and special interest groups all over the world. After witnessing footage of Godzilla's battles against other Kaiju such as Biollante, Ghidorah, and Spacegodzilla; Shida suggested a Kaiju-sized humanoid made from bioengineering. The UNGCC Council was hesitant, remembering the doctor's unorthodox "Bride of Godzilla" mech, how it violated Japan's anti-nuclear weapons policy, and the near-disaster that would've destabilized both the Earth and Hollow Earth if it weren't for RoboMusume's peculiar self-sacrifice. To bring legitimacy to his idea, Shida explained that the subject would have the might and power of Godzilla, but with the mind of a human being.

Miki Segusa spoke up about her concerns over this idea since she advocated for Godzilla to be left in peace ever since he adopted a juvenile Godzillasaurus and the plans of Mechagodzilla, MOGUERA, and Project T failed. Not to mention this was three months after Spacegodzilla's attempted conquest of Earth, a Kaiju-sized human being made those of the G-Countermeasures council uneasy. But Shida replied the possibility of this supposed soldier being an ideal improvement over Mechagodzilla as a defender of Japan and a deterrent to Godzilla. Days after this meeting, select bioengineering scientists began with the 'G-Cell Project', moving their resources to France.

By 1996, Shida had passed away due to old age, and it seemed UNGCC was on the verge of pulling the project's funding. That was until the Baas Island explosion and Godzilla's emergence as "Burning Godzilla", a nuclear meltdown that would've destroyed the world. The G-Cell team found themselves free of oversight during the crisis, as the appearance of Destoroyah heightened the danger. But, the crisis has passed with Destoroyah's rampage stopped and G-Force minimizing the damage as Godzilla perished. But, his leftover radiation transferred to the supposedly deceased Godzilla Junior revitalizing him and maturing him into a new Godzilla (III). With the future uncertain, a breakthrough was made with the G-Cells, the project was renamed the 'G-Clone Project'.

The New Godzilla lacked its father's hostility to humans but, the UNGCC wasn't going to take any chances, as they heard reports of another Godzilla battling an extraterrestrial known as the 'Gryphon' in the United States, unaware that it was what Monarch classified as 'Titanus Gojira'. Then, the monster known as 'Zilla' escaped its holding cell in France and rampaged in 1998, causing complications for every government involved. Many questions surrounded the Kaiju's appearance, as the French contingent of the project had gone rogue. Fearing that their pet project, 'Gojera', would be discovered, they ejected a large egg onto an island that had leftover nuclear radiation from atomic bomb tests in the 1950s. The egg laid dormant for months, until it hatched, revealing an abnormally large infant girl...with dorsal spines eerily similar to Godzilla. The infant fed on the radiation, having an accelerant growth similar to Godzilla (III) until she reached maturity in 2003.

Unfortunately, like Zilla, Gojera, or as Westerners would refer to Subject #4 as 'Godzerra', escaped containment and made landfall upon the coast of Japan, much to the surprise of everyone involved in the battle and witnessed it. Though she slightly resembled a human being, she had the ferocity and aggressive demeanor of any Godzilla, what made it worse was the young woman's genuine malice and enjoyment of the destruction she wrought. It was evident that communication with Godzerra would be unwise, as she seemed to revel in violence. Luckily, the UNGCC had created another anti-Godzilla weapon, launching Kiryu against the Kaiju Girl. Though it turned the tides in humanity's favor, it was clear that something about the mech set her off. As things seemed to be in G-Force's favor, Godzerra bellowed a defiant roar, making Kiryu pause. Seeing the mech's eyes turn from orange to red, she looked down at the gathered soldiers with an eerie smile, as if she knew what would happen next and turned back to the sea.

"Reap what you sow."

-A scientist translated from the Shobijin when Godzerra 'spoke'.

In horrifying reality, Kiryu was built around the skeleton of the 1954 Godzilla that attacked Japan and was killed by the Oxygen Destroyer. Some blamed a technical malfunction, others claimed that the Kaiju Girl's roar influenced the mech, and the Shobijin claimed that the spirit of Godzilla (I) lived within the bones. Overall, the latest anti-Godzilla weapon ironically caused more harm than Godzerra. After Kiryu ran out of power and was escorted back to G-Force, the UNGCC faced intense backlash internationally. Dr. Ishiro Serizawa of Monarch demanded answers, for both the explanation revolving around Kiryu's existence and Godzerra, the latter being verily outside of the Natural Order Monarch had studied for years. Many bioengineer scientists and researchers were questioned, as they could face jail time. Unfortunately, Godzerra resurfaced in Tokyo Bay, demolishing G-Force forces. As the Kaiju Girl marched closer and closer to the city center, the UNGCC Council and the Prime Minister had no choice but to launch Kiryu, believing whatever caused its malfunction was fixed.

The latest Mechagodzilla encountered the Kaiju Girl, resulting in an intense battle, appearing equally matched. Despite Godzerra's mixture of brute strength and human-like strategy, Kiryu gained the upper hand, wounding the atomic mutant with the Absolute Zero Cannon. While it failed to kill Godzerra, Kiryu did expel her, meaning humanity finally had a sure means of fighting back against any Kaiju. But, one year after the battle, Mothra returned to Earth, the Shobijin warning that the first Godzilla's bones must return to the sea for it was blasphemous to use them as a weapon. Takaaki Aso, former G-Force commander and the Prime Minister at the time, stated that too many resources had been sunk to scrap the project now. But, the Shobijin ensured that Mothra would defeat the atomic clone, despite Aso's doubts and remembering the 1992 battle against Godzilla (II) that claimed Battra's life. Soon, Godzerra returned to Tokyo, heading for Kiryu's hangar but was intercepted by Mothra. But, due to her time in space, the divine moth had reached old age; making her outmatched against the Kaiju Girl.

Unwilling to let Mothra fight alone, the G-Countermeasures Council ordered Kiryu's deployment; while Miki Segusa used her telepathy to contact Godzilla (III), fearing the situation's escalation. Despite being outnumbered, Godzerra proved to be a match for both the mech and the moth. Until Godzilla's arrival, who was curious about this being before engaging in combat. Despite the Monster King's strength and power, the Kaiju Girl lived up to G-Clone's original aspiration of creating a being to best their primary foe. Before she would kill the King of The Monsters, Mothra used the last of her strength to take the Atomic Breath for Junior, being set ablaze and exploding. Enraged at his 'sister's' callous reaction to the Guardian Kaiju's death, the saurian gained a second wind and the battle turned in his favor.

As the battle dragged on due to Godzilla's determination to avenge Mothra, G-Force units with Kiryu Mechanic Yoshito Chujo charged into the battlefield to repair the mech. With repairs completed, the Mechagodzilla joined Junior in the fight, turning an even battle to the favor of Earth's Defenders. But, Godzerra, revealing with cruelty, unleashed her own Atomic Pulse, unleashing Spiral Blasts upon Godzilla. Hearing the current Monster King's pained cries, the first King of the Monsters' spirit awakened within Kiryu, blasting the Kaiju Girl away. Unwilling to see such carnage between members of his species, despite the mutant's unnatural origins, Kiryu grabbed Godzerra and flew out to sea, sinking the two monsters in the Japan Trench.

The battle was finished but was declared a hollow, pyrrhic victory, with Tokyo in ruins once more, Mothra dead and Godzilla barely returning to the sea before collapsing due to his injuries, going into a healing hibernation. Finally seeing his grudge against Godzilla as folly, Aso ordered the Kiryu project to be officially scrapped and funding to G-Force cut in half. Since then, the UNGCC and G-Force are now a shadow of their glory days in the '90s and 2000s. However, the G-Clone Project secretly holds the DNA of multiple monsters, including Godzilla, to create more clones in case other Kaiju emerge. As for Godzerra, it took years for her to break Kiryu's grip, re-emerging in 2016, months after the rampage of 'Shin'. Godzerra had taken up residence on the mysterious 'Monster Island', isolating herself from the other Kaiju. Declaring the rather empty title of 'Queen of the Mutants'.

[canary0]

August 25th - Dracula 2023

Dr. Seward's Diary

The things I've heard lately hardly seem real, but at this point, it is difficult to discount it as flights of fancy. Jonathan Harker is as reasonable a man as I've met, and today I went to the hospital where the captain of the Demeter is recovering, and his own description - with Mr. Harker translating - has proven illuminating.

I asked for a copy of his log, as well, which Mrs. Harker has made copies of and integrated into our collective notes regarding this case. I've included a transcript of my interview here:

---

Captain Ionescu, good morning. I hope you are recovering well?

Recovering well enough, young man. Every morning I am alive feels like a gift from God himself, and more than any man could ask for.

It sounds like you went through quite an ordeal.

That is putting it very mildly. I do not know what we encountered, but my experiences seemed like they could only come from the Devil himself. I see the young man with you knows what I mean.

Indeed. It is an experience we're trying to make sure others don't have to repeat.

That will be quite a feat, but I hope you succeed. I will be happy to answer whatever I can if it helps.

I appreciate it. Thank you for allowing me to read your log, as well as your personal notes. There's a good deal about what happened to your crew, but not much about what your experience was. Could you tell me more about that?

I... I will do it. It is not easy to speak of it.

Please, take all the time you need. As important as it is, the last thing I want is to make things worse for you.

Thank you. The log contains most of it leading up to shutting myself in the bridge. I thought it was a simple serial killing at first. My first mate was agitated, and I will admit, I thought the disappearances were him at first. He seemed near on the verge of madness because of the crew's fear and caution, which seemed reasonable to me when people are disappearing. I thought, maybe he doesn't want their precautions to catch him out.

That wasn't it, though, Doctor. That wasn't it at all.

I am not sure you will believe what I did see.

My translator, Mr. Harker, had an encounter with what we believe is the same being that slaughtered your crew. You may be surprised. Please, just tell us what you experienced, as you experienced it.

Ah... My poor man. Then you know the horror of that being.

I will be honest... even being tormented by it for three days, I do not know what exactly it was. It tormented all of us - letting us get a glimpse... letting a few know that something was aboard with us, while letting others think they were mad. It is certainly a sophisticated monster, whatever it's nature may be, capable of mental torture and knowing men enough to turn them against one another.

I see you know. This must be part of its method, this torture. This terror it creates methodically.

I digress. I shall continue my story of my three days in the bridge.

We had much cargo, so I did not know where it was coming from, so uncovering it was not feasible and also survive. So I grabbed a bunk mattress and linens, food, water, everything I might need to survive until landfall. Then I got a few guns, ammunition, and every piece of anti-piracy equipment we had on hand. Anti-shatter reinforcement for the windows. doubled, since it didn't matter if I could see. Razor wire. Anti-traction foam. I even made some molotov cocktails. It really didn't like those. Heh heh.

Anyway, I finally saw it that first night. Not much of it. It was storming still, and I only saw it when lightning struck. It was just a silhouette, but it had crawled up over the window. All I saw was a glint off of its horrible teeth and blood red eyes. the silhouette was of a tall, thin man... or at least a human-like figure. I could feel it staring at me. It disappeared when the lightning flashed again.

then I began hearing noises. Scratching, pounding. It came from everywhere at once, or perhaps it moved so fast that it seemed so. I swear I heard it whispering, too. I knew after seeing what little I did and everything that was happening it was no serial killer. It was some true monster. A demon, maybe.

So, in the morning, I left briefly to do a couple more things. I admit... I went through the crew's belongings. I did not wish to, but they would not be needing them. I took any rosaries I could find, and hung them up in the windows of the doors. I made some holy water the way my grandmother taught me, as well. I swiped it over the door frame like the blood in Exodus.

I was not a very religious man before, Doctor, but I have seen a demon. I thought perhaps it could help.

The next night, it began to truly begin to torment me. It began seeking out the weak points in the bridge, testing them. It had inhuman strength! It tore apart the razor wire, though it made it bleed. It did not smash through the windows or the doors at first, though. That night, it tore at metal and broke the windows, but didn't come inside for me.

It got through the front window and stared at me, that second night. It said, "Are you ready?" I threw a molotov at it. Started a fire on the bridge, but it also screamed an inhuman scream at it and pulled back. It did not come back that night.

I did my best to prepare for the third night. I knew it would come for me. I had angered it, so it would not play anymore.

That thing... I don't know how I survived. Perhaps because we hit the shore only a few hours after sundown. It was too fast to keep up with, though I did my best to shoot it. It tore at me with its terrible teet and its long nails that were more like claws.

Then the ship groaned and I was thrown down, and I heard something break as I lost consciousness. It must have been the ship's crash.

That's all I remember before I woke up yesterday.

Did it look human when you saw more of it?

I... do not know, Doctor, I am sorry. It was always dark when I encountered it. The electricals were out, and it was always storming and foggy. The few glimpses I had were just... those teeth. Those eyes. Its skin was ghastly - strange and waxy where the light hit, but there was a... ruddiness that didn't seem natural on skin like a corpse.

I see... Thank you very much, Captain.

Of course, Doctor. Please excuse me, though. I must rest. My wounds still deal much harm to me.

Of course. Rest well, Captain.

Best of luck. If it is that monster, Doctor, you and Mr. Harker have you work cut out. It can be survived, though. We know, yes, Mr. Harker?

---

It was enlightening, but disturbing. We have more to think on, though. Professor van Helsing will be able to put together the pieces, though, I am certain of it.

...

(A/N: The beauty of being off the rails is that I can write whatever I need to for the story I'm telling at this point. :D )

[thenavysealkie]

Ghosts in the Water || Marcus Solo

Parties: @thenavysealkie

Timing: Current, during the eclipse totality

Location: Near the lighthouse

Triggers: Familial death

Summary: Marcus sees the ghost of a familiar face during the eclipse

It was a quiet day, relatively calm. The fog helped keep people away from the ocean for the most part, but Marcus also had to remain extra vigilant of ships that were disoriented. Mercifully, it seemed any ships out on the water were holding position until the fog passed, as there were no signs of any vessels as the lighthouses signal cut through the heavy cloud.

Marcus was just about to head back into the lighthouse to gather his things and end his watch early for the day when he spotted a small mass floating in the water, about 50 feet from the shore. It was far too large to be a person, but also smaller than a boat. Perhaps a kayak or canoe or something, but who would take a vessel like that into the ocean during thick fog? Someone with a death wish, certainly. He tried to get a closer look, when suddenly it began moving towards him quickly. It was almost as if it had a motor attached. No…Marcus realized it was swimming at him.

As the figure came closer, Marcus’s blood ran ice cold. It was a large elephant seal, with a thick, dark hide, and blue eyes that shimmered with recognition and familiarity. As it drew closer, he could barely make a large white scar running down its upper chest. He knew what was coming as the gossamer figure made landfall and suddenly stood on two legs, becoming human once again before his very eyes.

“Archer…” Was all he could say as he looked upon the visage of his cousin. The one who had been murdered in front of him almost 20 years ago now.

“Been a while, Marcus. You’ve had one hell of a year, haven’t you?” his cousin asked, taking in the scenery around him. “Guess we’re both dead now in one sense or another, eh? At least as far as the Navy is concerned…”

“What are you-” Marcus had so many questions, but didn’t know how to ask any of them. “How are you-”

“It’s the eclipse. Apparently it allows you to see me, which I think is crazy! This place is pretty neat, gives spirits a lot of avenues to communicate with everyone.”

While Marcus was thankful for the reunion, he couldn’t help but think of whatever dead souls might be looking for him; with less than well meaning intentions.

As if reading his mind, and maybe he was, Archer chimed in “Don’t worry about…him. I’ve seen and talked to him since he passed on. Congratulations, by the way. Apparently you’re not at the top of his list of people he has an ax to grind with, so he’s harassing other people right now. Besides,” he continued, giving a little flex for emphasis. “He may be bigger than you, but he knows I’m bigger than him and not to mess with you”

“I didn’t mean to…” To do what exactly? Kill him? Marcus stabbed him in the back when he was fighting with a rather powerful siren. Could he really say he didn’t mean to kill William? That would, of course, be a lie. Yet still, he certainly didn’t want to kill him either.

“You did what needed to be done. You stood your ground and made the world a better place. That is what a Fremont does.” Archie replied simply. “Grandpa’s been watching you with me. We’re both so proud of you, Marcus. You got dealt a very shitty hand, but you rose to the occasion and manned up without a CO hovering over your shoulder telling you to do so. You’re doing what’s right even if it flies in the face of authority.”

The words seemed almost foreign coming from another Fremont. His father had always emphasized status and image above all else. The “Fremont name” had always been tied to things such as his military accolades and how he was viewed. He always he felt he was a failure for leaving all of those things behind. Then, finally, his cousin said something that made Marcus certain he could read his thoughts to some extent.

“Listen, I don’t have much more time so I’ll just get to it.Your place is here, Marcus. This is where you belong, as chaotic and dangerous as it may be. Think of the lives you’ve saved, the people you’ve met, the course of events here that have changed since you came to town! I know you can’t go back home, but maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe staying off the grid in the town shrouded in mystery won’t be so bad for you.”

Marcus had thought about leaving more times than he could count. It only made sense to him. The town had actively tried to kill him enough times that he figured he’d take his chances with the military instead. But then he always thought of Elias, who was now off on his own journey with no real hint of a return. He thought of those he had met and his duties here along the beach. Maybe his home was here after all. Sure, it was by no means stable or peaceful. But as time went on, Marcus felt more at ease with that fact. Perhaps his cousin was right after all.

“Archer…” he then turned towards his cousin, trying not to make eye contact with the scar that now ran across his chest. “Thank you. I think I really did need to hear that. Tell Pop Pop I said hi too.”

“I sure will. Take it easy Marcus,” and with that, his translucent form faded even further until Marcus was greeted with nothing in front of him yet again. Swallowing hard, he resumed his trek back to the lighthouse. While it may be turbulent, dangerous, and wild, this was home. And for the first time since he arrived, Marcus was perfectly fine with that.

[cruelfeline]

All right. It's time to has out the game-relevant Athian timeline. I've been going through the lore entries and looking at various dates. Doing so has caused me to realize some little details that I find quite intriguing. This will go in two posts: this one about the Break and the implications of its timeline, and a second regarding the war against the Rheddig and its associated implications. So! Here we go.

The most recent war with the Rheddig, culminating in the Athian victory known as the Purge of the Rheddig, began with invader landfall on 3/10/3874.

The aforementioned Purge, and with it the decisive victory of the Athian defenders, occurred on 5/18/3874. This provides us with a war duration of approximately two months.

The next few years are spent rebuilding a war-torn Athia until the Break appears. Now, the Break does not actually appear until the first Tanta, Tanta Prav, goes mad.

She seems to fully fall on 8/1/3877, sentencing someone to death for stealing an apple. The Break is first seen on 9/15/3877, in all realms but Junoon.

Junoon remains free of the Break until 12/27/3877, upon which it succumbs as well. The Break continues to spread and, roughly one year later on 12/17/3878, covers about 80% of Athia and has killed 99% of its people.

So! What bits of information can be gleaned from this data?

1. The Break seemingly first appears when the Tantas lose their inner battles against Susurrus. It is not until the first Tanta goes mad that we see it mentioned in the records. And it is not until Junoon's Tanta falls that the Break is able to enter Junoon. It's logical to consider, then, that the Break doesn't just come from Cuff, but from some corruption of Tanta magic facilitated by Cuff being bound to and tormenting them. After all: Susurrus' first attack on Athia, many years ago, made no mention of Break-like phenomena. Likely because he was not bound to anyone, but broken and sealed in the Labyrinths. This is further supported by the Break being strongest around corrupted Tantas' castles but not around, say, Frey, who is bound to Cuff but not corrupted.

2. The Tantas internally fought Susurrus for at most nine months, much likely less. Cinta's memories inform us that Cinta fought against Suss and helped bind him when already pregnant with Frey. She loses her internal battle with him soon after Frey's birth. Frey was born on 12/25. We can assume this was 12/25/3877, as Cinta succumbs to Susurrus, allowing the Break to take Junoom, on 12/27/3877 the moment she sends infant Frey away. So for Cinta to have bound Suss while pregnant, only to fall very shortly after Frey's birth, means that she held him for less than nine months. The other Tantas held out shorter than she did. Cuff is apparently a very difficult person to live with.

3. We start the game in the Athian year 3898, given that Frey has just turned 21. Susurrus likewise states that he's been waiting twenty-one years for his vengeance. Game starts on 12/25/3898, likely moves into the year 3899, given that its events take at least a few weeks. This means that Susurrus is imprisoned for a third time in the year 3899.

Mind you, all of this hinges upon Earth dates and Athian dates corresponding, which we have no official word on. I like to think they do, given how Frey's birthday fits into things. And given how providing the Athian days would be sort of pointless if their year wasn't essentially like ours, simply because without that frame of reference, the dates just wouldn't mean much.

But! Assuming the dates correspond properly, this gives us insight on how long things took, so to speak. And how the formation and spread of the Break corresponded to the Tantas' internal struggles with Cuff.

Now... let me go type up this next bit about the Rheddig...

[rjalker]

sure, I guess. I can't find what year this was published but I don't think it was legal, lol..........

Know him?

Well you might say I practically grew up with him. He was my hero in those days. I thought few wiser or greater men ever lived. In my eyes he was greater than Babe Ruth, Lindy, or the President.

Of course, time, and my growing up caused me to bring him into a perspective that I felt to be more consonant with his true position in his field of endeavor. When he died his friends mourned for fond remembrance of things past, but privately many of them felt that he had outlived his best days. Now with this glorious vindication, I wonder how many of them are still alive to feel the twinge of conscience....

Oh, we're delighted of course, but it seems incredible even today to us elated oldsters. Although we were always his staunchest admirers, in retrospect we can see now that no one believed more than we that he did it strictly for the dollar. It is likely there was always a small corps of starry-eyed adolescents who found the whole improbable saga entirely believable, or at least half believed it might be partly true. The attitude of the rest of us ranged from a patronizing disparagement that we thought was expected of us, through grudging admiration, to out-and-out enthusiasm.

Certainly if anybody had taken the trouble to consider it—and why should they have?—the landing of the first manned ship on our satellite seemed to render him as obsolete as a horde of other lesser and even greater lights. At any rate, it was inevitable that the conquest of the moon would be merely a stepping-stone to more distant points.

Oh, no, I had nothing to do with the selection of the Red Planet. Coming in as head of Project P-4 in its latter stages, as I did when Dr. Fredericks died, the selection had already been made. Yes, it's quite likely I may have been plugging for Mars below the conscious level. A combination of chance, expediency and popular demand made Mars the next target, rather than Venus, which was, in some ways, the more logical goal. I would have given anything to have gone, but the metaphorical stout heart that one reporter once credited me with is not the same as an old man's actual fatty heart.

And there were heartbreak years ahead before the Goddard was finally ready. During this time he slipped further into obscurity while big, important things were happening all around us. You're right, that one really big creation of his is bigger than ever. It has passed into the language, and meant employment for thousands of people. Too few of them have even heard of him. Of course, he was still known and welcomed by a small circle of acquaintances, but to the world at large he was truly a "forgotten man."

It is worthy of note that one of the oldest of these acquaintances was present at blast-off time. He happened to be the grandfather of a certain competent young crewman. The old man was a proud figure during the brief ceremonies and his eyes filled with tears as the mighty rocket climbed straight up on its fiery tail. He remained there gazing up at the sky long after it had vanished.

He was heard to murmur, "I am glad the kid could go, but it is just a lark to him. He never had a 'sense of wonder.' How could he—nobody reads anymore."

Afterward, his senile emotions betraying him, he broke down completely and had to be led from the field. It is rumored he did not live long after that.

The Goddard drove on until Mars filled the viz-screen. It was planned to make at least a half-dozen braking passes around the planet for observational purposes before the actual business of bringing the ship in for landfall began. As expected the atmosphere proved to be thin. The speculated dead-sea areas, oddly enough, turned out to be just that. To the surprise of some, it was soon evident that Mars possessed, or had possessed, a high civilization. The canali of Schiaparelli were indeed broad waterways stretching from pole to pole, too regular to be anything but the work of intelligence. But most wonderful of all were the scattered, but fairly numerous large, walled cities that dotted the world. Everybody was excited, eager to land and start exercising their specialties.

One of the largest of these cities was selected more or less at random. It was decided to set down just outside, yet far enough from the walls to avoid any possibility of damage from the landing jets in the event the city was inhabited. Even if deserted, the entire scientific personnel would have raised a howl that would have been heard back on Earth if just a section of wall was scorched. When planet-fall was completed and observers had time to scan the surroundings it was seen that the city was very much alive.

"What keeps them up!" marvelled Kopchainski, the aeronautics and rocketry authority.

The sky swarmed with ships of strange design. The walls were crowded with inhabitants, too far away for detailed observation. Even as they looked an enormous gate opened and a procession of mounted figures emerged. In the event the place was deserted, the Captain would have had the honor of being the first to touch Martian soil. While atmospheric and other checks were being run, he gave orders for the previously decided alternative. Captain, semanticist and anthropologist would make the First Contact.

With all checks agreeing that it was safe to open locks, soon the three representatives of Earth were walking shoulder to shoulder down the ramp. It was apparent that the two scientists purposely missed stride inches from the end, so that it was the Captain's foot that actually touched ground first.

The cavalcade—though these beasties were certainly not horses—was now near enough to the ship for details to be seen. Surprise and wonderment filled the crew, for while the multi-legged steeds were as alien as anyone might expect to find on an alien world, the riders were very definitely humanoid. Briefly, brightly and barbarically trapped as they were by earthly standards, they seemed to be little distinguishable from homegrown homo saps.

The approaching company appeared to be armed mainly with swords and lances, but also in evidence were some tubular affairs that could very well be some sort of projectile-discharging device. The Captain suddenly felt unaccountably warm. It was a heavy responsibility—he hoped these Martians wouldn't be the type of madmen who believed in the "shoot first, inquire later" theory.

Even as he stood there, outwardly calm but jittering internally, the Martian riders pulled up ten feet from the Earthmen. Their leader, tall, dark-haired, and subtly lighter in hue than his companions, dismounted and approached the Captain. With outstretched hand he took the Captain's in a firm grip.

Let it be recorded here, to the shame of an Earth where reading for pleasure is virtually a lost pastime, that not one man on the Goddard realized the significance of what followed.

"How do you do?" he said in perfect English, with an unmistakable trace of Southern accent.

"Welcome to Barsoom! My name is John Carter."

[bgyffzd]

As the hurricane rages, the US disaster relief effort is shifting the blame game. Can voters only pray to God?

Hurricane Helena has caused more than 200 deaths and hundreds of missing persons in the United States, making it the second most damaging hurricane disaster in U.S. history after Katrina. Hurricane Milton has just swept across Florida, causing less damage but has also caused dozens of deaths and missing persons, while millions of people are still without power.The efficiency of the U.S. government's disaster relief is not only incredible by Chinese standards, but also criticized in the U.S. With less than a month to go before the election, the worst-hit states are swing states like North Carolina, and natural disasters are inevitably linked to man-made disasters.

Let's take a look at the timeline. Hurricane Helena made landfall around September 27 and caused huge damage, then dissipated on September 29. However, it was not until October 2, when hundreds of people had died or were missing, that the Biden administration began to deploy troops to participate in disaster relief. At this time, there were still a large number of areas that could only save themselves and could not be reached by disaster relief forces.

This speed of disaster relief is very American, and it is both a procedural and cultural issue. Procedurally, according to the Stafford Act, Americans have to do disaster relief step by step, starting with local self-help, then going to the state level, and then going to the state-level Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), and finally seeking help from the federal government.

This process certainly has its rationality, but in practice it often unexpectedly provides opportunities for departments at all levels to delay and pass the buck. Moreover, for a major disaster like Hurricane Helena, everyone can figure out with their toes whether local and state resources are sufficient. Although many disaster-stricken areas have long begun to request support from higher levels, support is always in the process. After all, it was not until October 29, when the hurricane had dissipated, that the Biden administration began to approve the "state of disaster" in various states and release federal funds to respond to disaster relief.

Of course, it is normal for the federal government to provide assistance too slowly, as the United States has a tradition of so-called private self-help. However, the problem is that these spontaneous private rescues also seem to have to follow procedures.

For example, Musk has publicly stated many times that "FEMA is not only unable to effectively help the trapped people, but is also actively blocking citizens who want to provide assistance."

Of course, the Democrats' raising of this matter is a bit like taking advantage of someone's misfortune, because these Republican lawmakers did not vote against giving money to FEMA, but against a package of federal government funding bills, of which FEMA was only one of them.

If this is considered opposing giving money to FEMA, then you Democrats also voted against an appropriations bill simply because the appropriations bill was bundled with a Republican bill that would require voters to prove their U.S. citizenship in order to register to vote.

What can you expect in a country where anything, big or small, can be used for party strife?

So today I wrote so much about disaster relief after a disaster, but I didn't even mention the most important part, which is disaster prevention. How to strengthen infrastructure, how to increase the disaster resistance of houses, how to prepare for disasters in advance, how to evacuate people in advance... This is a bit beyond the scope of the American system. These things are not completely unaccepted in the United States, but there is no motivation, and there are political risks.

Before a disaster occurs, preventive measures are always unpopular and people will always accuse you of excessive precautions and wasting resources. For example, when the Obama administration was preparing for Hurricane Sandy, Republicans accused the federal government of wasting resources and excessively interfering in state affairs.

Of course, the blame comes not only from politicians, but also from voters. Studies have long found that voters will only reward politicians who spend money on disaster relief, but will not support those who spend money on disaster prevention. It is meaningless to think one step ahead. Politicians who really think three steps ahead will spend money on making disaster victims grateful to them, rather than reducing the number of disaster victims from the beginning.

Why is there never enough money for disaster relief, and why is there never enough capacity for disaster relief? Because the most efficient and cost-effective option, which is to strengthen disaster prevention, has the lowest priority in this system driven by political interests.

[apricusnights]

Olympus Tournament Story: The Sun Will Rise.

Continued from here.

Location: Solis Heights, Apricus City

In a hidden lab below the district. Talos sits and watches several monitors as Valerie and Pierce handle the ongoing situation.

Pierce: "I've gotten word from my brother. He and Kara are on an escape craft headed towards land."

Valerie: "Did they manage to secure the asset?"

Pierce: "The one from Fae? Yes, he's there with them."

Valerie: "Excellent, send a helicopter to their location when they make landfall."

Pierce: "Already on it. It's a bit of a shame Kara couldn't make the finals but I suppose it all works out in the end."

Talos: "Quiet, I've received word to move on to the next step. Go to your stations and activate all of the sleepers. Have our operatives strike at their targets of choice. Most of the world leaders haven't returned home yet and it's the perfect opportunity to take advantage of the chaos."

Pierce: "Of course."

Valerie: "One last thing, I had a team recover Mr. R's body. No real benefit but I doubt we wanted it ending up in the wrong hands..."

Talos: "Well done, now let the show begin.."

Location: Palace Of The Five Emperors

Cerise, Hugo, Johnny, and Skuld find themselves in the courtyard of the palace. A place Skuld has seen before and is none too happy to return to. Just as she's about to demand to be returned, each of the competitors find themselves teleported again, each to a different room somewhere in the palace.

Location: Main Deck, Olympus

The creature swung it's arms at anything that moved as the remaining competitors and council members fought against it. Some finding their traditional firearms ineffective against the creature's tough skin. Others opted for an up close approach but much to their chagrin every time an appendage was sliced off it would simply regrow moments later. Any damage dealt seemed to heal before the next round of attacks could even hit. To make matters worse, the ship was beginning to split further and was in danger of breaking into pieces.

Despite the fact everything was proving useless, not a single one of the fighters had any desire to give up. If they were going down, they planned on taking the monstrosity with them. Larsen began to use the waves to his advantage, controlling as many of them as he could to crash down on the creature and at least keep it off balance. Lowell had made his way back into the control room after he had an idea, likely a very poor idea but an idea.

Lowell had realized that the main generator to the Olympus has likely been damaged. If they could overload it further and trigger an explosion it might be enough to destroy the creature. An explosion with that kind of power should overwhelm the monster's regenerative capabilities. Or at least Lowell wanted to believe...it was their best shot.

Lowell, Fisher, Oct, and a small team had to make their way through the bowels of the ship which was rapidly filling with water. Meanwhile the rest of the team remained on the main deck to distract the monster. The idea was to do as much damage as possible right before the generator overloaded. When no one seemed to be paying attention, Ciar and Edana managed to collect a small sample of the creature. Ciar wasn't about to let a research opportunity slip away, even in this situation.

After barely managing to make it into the quickly flooding generator room, the team began to set up explosives. Something Oct was particularly knowledgeable about. Lowell and Fisher began to figure out how to overload the device. Eventually shutting down the power to the rest of the ship and beginning to cycle it through the generator over and over again.

Lionel Myte was quite helpful as he understood machinery of this sort AND how to sabotage it if need be. He did seem slightly upset about having to destroy something so impressive but did manage to pocket a few blueprints that Styles may want to look over later. As the generator began to pulse, the team made it's way to one of the escape crafts. The agreement was for them to launch after signaling the assault team.

Lowell signaled the team and closed the hatch, the craft launched away from the sinking ship and activated a beacon. Meanwhile the assault team struck against the creature with everything they had just as the ship finally broke into pieces. They continuously dealt damage faster than it could regenerate before Styles used his tech to rip giant pieces of metal from the ship and impaled the creature with them, leaving it trapped against the deck of the ship.

The team scrambled but made it into one of the remaining escape crafts. The craft barely had time to drop into the way and begin to cruise away as the generator pulsed and exploded, destroying most of the Olympus and hopefully vaporizing the creature as well. The escape craft's beacon activated and now all they had to do as wait for pickup..while Larsen and Styles argued about being stuck in a small space with each other..

Location: Apricus City

"Hello, this is Lydia Reliford from Apricus News. I've just returned to the city and boy am I happy to be on land again. For those of you still waiting to hear from friends or family, the Apricus Navy has located all of the escape crafts and is in the process of picking everyone up. Those rescued by helicopter are currently onboard Navy vessels as well and should return shortly."

"We are however receiving some rather unfortunate news from across the world. It seems several high profile individuals were attacked and some lost their lives. The leaders of several nations are blaming each other as the assailants seem to be from neighboring countries. The incident taking place on the Olympus is being regarded as sabotage with each nation wishing to conduct their own investigations."

"We have reports that several once friendly nations are implementing stricter border control and limiting trade and travel with other specific nations. The Apricus City Council will likely discuss this when they return. Especially after the apparent kidnap attempt of an Apricus citizen by individuals from Fae."

"We'll be bringing you continued coverage as more people are brought home safely. Have a good evening."

Location: Crepusculum

"Our mutual acquaintances are headed back to Apricus. Nearly everything went off without a hitch."

"I do regret the loss of our piece when it comes to Mr. R but his job was done. We may not have control of Paradise Entertainment any longer but the access he provided me to the city's records was more valuable."

"Not to mention our chief operative in Apricus has provided access to all of Cheshire Financial's systems. I'm sure they'll realize something is a miss eventually but for now everything is proceeding exactly as planned. Nobody suspects her at all."

"And the other heathen nations are already at each other's throats. Astounding how easy it is to break their faith in each other with a few well positioned apostles."

"Precisely. And now that the distrust is running rampant, everyone will want to improve their offensive, and defensive capabilities. So of course they'll come calling to the most technologically advanced nation in the world. And when they do, we'll happily cut them a deal...."

Epilogue:

Location: Palace Of The Five Emperors

"Cerise Gilios. As one of the winners of the tournament, a prize is yours. So tell me.."

"Skuld Kraka. As one of the winners of the tournament, a prize is yours. So tell me.."

"Hugo Knight. As one of the winners of the tournament, a prize is yours. So tell me.."

"Johnny C. Lakely. As one of the winners of the tournament, a prize is yours. So tell me.."

"WHAT DO YOU DESIRE?!"

The sun is about to rise on a new era!

[deodouglasser]

Folds of Being Chapter 1

“It was a worm. No, it was a snake- some large piece of flesh vaguely coated with lines that resembled that of scales. The figure, appearing instantaneously, and then disappearing. The pattern- too vague and changing to be defined. A sliver of light reflecting off of the snake- or was it light at all? Color nor hue could be found in this image- only a fluctuating sea of black and white disappearing and reappearing as it pleased. And this snake or thin piece of flesh took on the faces of a million souls- one in suffering, and the other anger. The strange creature bent itself towards the direction of its tail which was trailing behind it. The mouth, marked with oscillating angles and lights barely defining its dental features. This mouth bit into the flesh of the tail. The head I remember, called itself the Cephala, and the tail called itself the Ouros. That is, they called themselves such things that were different- yet they were part of the same creature. Its outer shell began to detach from itself and molt away from its body into the flashing void of chaos and unknown. This skin was cast into the darkness where it was never seen again. The Cephala, filled with anger and hatred, generating profiles of teeth and points further digging into the Ouros and swallowing it whole. But the more the Ouros was devoured by its counterpart, the body of the whole snake just kept expanding at the same rate as the Cephala ate. The Ouros was a being of a suffering, torment, and the screams of a million cherubs crying in deafening chants. The dissonant cries did not decay or intensify, they just kept their disharmonious struggle at a constant volume. The wrath of the Cephala devoured the helpless Ouros only to grow the lost organs back. But soon, the body stopped regenerating and the Cephala bent itself to eat the rest of the Ouros. It detached from the body and devoured the severed pieces whole. The lone severed head, now done with its meal, lost its anger and seems to have comes to terms with what actions it had just committed. I do not believe this was some sort of reflection of acceptance of its reduced state, but rather an existential dread of an event yet to come. And just as it had materialized before me, it evaporated into the void from which it came. It returned to the state of compounds and proteins leaving their vessel of begotteness. Back into the void, perhaps it has always belong to such void”. 

“This is the fifth vision of that creature you’ve had this week, sir”

“Perhaps it is a sign?”

“Of what exactly?”

“The serpent devouring itself- why a serpent? They are a selfish kind, why must they devour themselves out of self-hate?”

“How does this differ from the previous visions?”

“The figure is more defined. The head and tail named themselves as if they were separate beings. The nature of detachment was considerably more aggressive than others visions”

“And the color?” 

“It is vague to me like before”.

“What do you believe this is?”

“Something on subject with our current journey at hand. But why a snake? I do not remember The Pariah being linked to a serpent”

“Not in those volumes, but perhaps it is a sigil and not a servant of him”.

Garanthys looked down at his journal where these words had been inscribed by his secretary. Before his landfall to the Southern Beyond, he paid little mind to his dreams as many of them seemed insignificant. He was an esteemed Meerkat of science- why let anecdotal evidence from the subconscious get in the way of progress? If he were to discuss his dreams with his colleagues, he would be laughed out of the scientific community. However, dreams and visions seemed to become matters of meaning. Even when he would awake from bed, snippets and visions from these dreams would reappear whenever he would blink. The dreams were of a strange quality- Garanthys would expect them to be realms that were somewhat familiar to him including people and concepts he was familiar with. However, these dreams were full of unfamiliar sigils flashing before his eyes and landscapes of impossible nature. Many of his dreams seemed to be very vague in appearance which the scientist tried his best to describe. And then there was this serpent- the most intriguing and recurring concept he saw. Like his other dreams, he had a million questions about what this creature could be or symbolize. Every sight of the serpent became more detailed as he kept dreaming. Every time after this dream, he experienced a deep pain in his chest and a feeling of unknown horror that haunted him at his waking hours. It was bearable, but he knew there was sign from either his body or the land he had just began to trek. The Empire had entrusted him to explore the Southern Beyond and discover the secrets to a mass extinction. He was one of the top scientists in his field and only 93 moons old. For his voyage, he had been given 1,500 expeditionary troops from the Emperor himself to hopefully uncover ancient artifacts and secrets of a bygone era. Most important, to exhume the body of the Pariah- the entity responsible for the last great extinction event. This ambitious journey through unexplored lands had just landed around three weeks hence and a terrible storm had forced the party to stay at camp until the maelstrom blew over. The wind had died down somewhat as of late, but the cold froze the fuel in the transports so they were forced to stay another day for the transports to be fixed. A hunting party also was sent out to feed the Hwakejjla transports as the riders were afraid that depending on rations would starve the creatures before they even reached the halfway point. 

Garanthys walked out of his canvas tent on the short grass and red clay. He looked downhill and saw the figures of a small squadron practicing drills with their sergeant. His secretary who was there in the tent with him grabbed his coat and walked out with him. The scientist descended downhill to the main area to see if any of his fellow contemporaries were awake. It was mid-morning and the sun was well-risen. Garanthys took keen notice of the continent’s weather and kept a journal noting every minute detail of the atmosphere’s activity. The great storm greatly intrigued him and the Lieutenant of the expedition had to make sure he did not leave his tent to examine the storm’s “curious behaviors”. But he was only the Lieutenant, and Garanthys had been named the General. The scientist respected the good will of that officer but he knew that he could overturn his decision at any time. After all, today was the only clear sky since they landed. For three weeks they had to sit in camp while storm after storm pummeled the party. After it had blown over, they were all surprised to see that the rain had not flooded their camp out. The water just seemed to have vanished or evaporated as soon as it touched the ground. Nevertheless, Garathys’ Battalion began to prepare for departure that day into the unknown. The forecast still proved to be windy and frigid but that would not deter Garanthys. In the puddles that had not evaporated, the scientist happened to look into the muddy pool collecting his thoughts. To his surprise, he noticed something swimming around in the muddy puddle. Perhaps it was a strange specimen native to this mysterious land. Bubbles rose to the surface and Garanthys could make out a small figure from the creature. He pulled out a vial from his jacket pocket and bent down to get a closer look. The creature skidded away into the muddy deep when he saw the scientist’s shadow but Garanthys had seen where it had gone. He quickly jolted his hands forward and caught the creature in the obscured darkness. He felt the figure of it. Very thin- almost serpent-like. No legs, no appendages either. When the mud and water left his hands, he saw that it had the head of a salamander but the body of a snake- almost like a Caecilian. The scales were white- but not the pure white that glistened in the sun. This shade that came from the scales of the creatures were a blank white- a vague coloring. Almost as if the makers of the animal forgot to give it color. There were some spots of black across the scales- scattered as small towns on a map in an unexplored territory. Garanthys scanned the creature intensively before filling the vial with water and putting the creature inside.

 It will likely asphyxiate inside my jacket pocket before we depart he thought to himself But it will make for a lovely specimen in my research.

Garanthys walked further down the columns of tents and pavilions as the cool wind blew against him. His secretary followed close behind him. Garanthys walked into a large tent with its flaps spread open. This was the messhall where the soldiers gathered for break. A few of the Kataphrier Infantrymen were playing cards on the table while another was reading a book in the corner. Among them was a blonde Imperian Meerkat with crimson red shoulder epilets and black-tipped ears. He was a position of high rank certainly. This young officier laughed and cheerfully played cards with the other Kataphriers as if he was one of them. He was certainly younger than Garanthys only by a few moons and seemed to give off the impression of anticipation for the future. The officer laid his deck out in front of the other players indicating he had won, with a mix of impression and cheer coming from those who had lost. It was clear that the officer had outwitted his opponents in whatever game this was- always one step ahead of his adversaries. The officer spotted the scientist as he was walking to retrieve his knapsack and approached him. It was Isryyken, one of Garanthys’ fellow scientists who had decided to take the great journey with him.

“Can you believe they promoted me to second lieutenant?” the young Meerkat started

“I did not believe you to hold standing in the military.” Garanthys replied

“Those fights I had as a kid are good enough for military experience”

“So they just let you assume position?”

“I was out with the Aalthri Platoon collecting rock samples when we were ambushed by Velkese scouts. The Lieutenant was killed in the assault so I assumed command and killed all ten of ambushers- even one with the rocks I had collected! Didn’t you hear about this? Everybody’s talking about it”.

Evidently his secretary had forgotten to give reports on any military action recently mainly because of the preparations to depart. Isryyken was a young an outspoken man who had entered the field of Garanthys’ studies quite recently. His unorthodox methods of thinking led him and the scientist to become quick friends. Isryyken was less refined however and still made mistakes in his studies whereas Garanthys was a machine with no space for error. He was often very expressive when he wanted to be- a stark contrast to the focused and reserved Garanthys. However, the young lieutenant was well versed in the ancient volumes just as Garanthys was and both knew that something revolutionary lay within the tomb of the Pariah. The lively lieutenant and the reserved scientist shared many differences with each other but no doubt were close friends.

“Does Commander Rredua know of your promotion? Who promoted you?”

“The platoon, of course. I am sure Commander Rredua won’t mind”. 

“You were sent to be a scientist of an unknown land and not to be given the burden of leadership”

“And you are the general?” Isryyken wittingly quipped.

Garanthys paused for a moment. 

“Do not let this position distract from your purpose” he replied after an awkward silence.

Not willing to change the subject, Isryyken pressed further, 

“You did not address the hypocrisy that stands. Be consistent” he said in a manner that mimicked Garanthys’ higher class mannerisms and accent.

“I was assigned general by the Emperor but the Commander leads. I only plot the course, not the manner in which we do it” he replied calmly.

“Besides,” he said in a joking manner, “Those rock samples you collected were wasted on killing others. Now they are contaminated- no good for research” 

They both laughed off the slight disagreement and began discussing the rock formations and structures they had discovered so far. Garanthys pulled out the vial containing the strange creature he had picked up from the puddle. It was still alive and swimming around, struggling to find a way out of its glass prison. The young second lieutenant examined the vial curiously and tapped the glass for any sign of provocation. He pulled out a flashlight and tried to disturb the creatures. Strangely enough, the creature did not seem to react to any of Isryyken’s provocations and remained unchanged.

“It is the first creature seemingly native to this land I have found. Who knows what those hunting parties will find searching for food” said Garanthys

“I assigned Helgina to come along with them to examine their finds. She has the best penmanship out of any of us” replied the blonde Meerkat.

Suddenly, a Cataphrier entered the large tent and called out for Garanthys. It was one of the Commander’s best infantrymen and he had come to deliver a message.

“Commander Rredua wishes to speak to you General”

“On what matter?” 

“An ambush on our troops by Velkese scouts, sir”

“For what reason was I not summoned earlier?”

“The Commander believed you to be asleep, sir” 

Garanthys’ secretary slowly walked out of the frame of view as he now suffered embarrassment again for not informing the scientist of the recent events. 

“At what time does the Commander wish to speak to me?”

“Now, sir”

Two large Imperian Cataphriers with iron armorplates and crimson epaulets entered guarding a shorter figure at the center of them. In the center stood the Commander- an Imperian Meerkat with a menacing stature and a thoroughly worn tan uniform. She held some sort of sabre in a sheath at her waist and black markings on her ears indicating her high rank. The Commander had a very noticeable scar adjacent to her right eye that looked as if her combatant had missed slicing her head open by an hair. Garanthys had seen the Commander before but never in this fashion with her “guards”. Rredua was likely assigned to Garanthys’ expedition for a reason- not out of her own curiosity or expertise in exploration. When the Great Rebellions in the Meerkat Empire broke out, Garanthys had heard of Rredua’s name before as a great Lieutenant who was ruthless in combat. She was renowned for her merciless techniques against those who would use the forests to their advantage by leading Pyrianhic troops to use flamethrowers and detect hidden threats. The Emperor regularly praised the great Commander’s actions as she rose the ranks of the Meerkat military. However, it seemed now that she was being downplayed by the Emperor as Rredua was recalled to take command of only 1,500 troops and shipped off to an unknown land with scientists who practically spoke their own language of esoteric jargon. Garanthys figure that some sort of punishment had been given to the once great Commander in the form of this expedition. Even when they shipped off, Garanthys’ first interaction with Rredua did not seem amicable- but rather a greeting out of obligation. Rredua never smiled or made any gesture of the sort- fitting with her personality. But in other campaigns she would have kept her stone-cold expression and become passionate in some occasions. The great Commander had no fluctuation in personality, almost bored or lazy. She still was serious about her small army that she had been assigned- punishment or not, it was an order by the Emperor, and by the Emperor it shall be done. She was not to have a weak band of explorers be decimated in the unforgiving lands of the unknown. Garanthys did not speak to the Commander often but he could read much from her facial expressions at times. There was a strong sense of devotion and loyalty to the Empire which was easily represented by her cold demeanor and mannerisms. However, Garanthys could sense that she was forlorn in some sense. Something felt off about this seemingly “legendary” Commander. Garanthys had his suspicions but kept them to himself for the time being.

“General, I assume your secretary informed you of the ambush this morning, correct?” Rredua inquired

“That is correct” lied Garanthys trying save his secretary’s reputation

“And you know of the… mishap that occurred?” she asked as she turned to Isryyken and frowned

“More or less” he replied “What exactly happened?” 

“The Second Lieutenent of the Aalthri Platoon was killed and your rock collector boy usurped control. He was not ordered to do so and has no right to assume such position. Quite frankly it was the Platoon’s fault for allowing this child to do this. This is all merely some joke. That bookworm has no place on the battlefield. For his own safety, of course”.

She turned to Isryyken about to speak but he managed to get a word in before she could

“And so you will demote me? None of the Aalthri are willing to fill the position”.

To his support, the members of the platoon present in the messhall gathered near him. Rredua, triggered by the young Meerkat’s interruption, collected herself and did not acknowledge the innocent Isryyken.

“A child with no experience leading a platoon of cowardly Cataphiers is a mistake in lands such as these. But since he does not swear loyalty to any military oath, I will differ this decision to the general”. Rredua finally replied.

Garanthys decided to relinquish Isryyken’s position as Second Lieutenant but allowed him to live as he pleased with the rest of the Platoon. Rredua selected a Cataphrier named Dengidanu to be the Second Lieutenant but the Platoon were adamant about keeping Isryyken as a leader. He would live as a Cataphrier but have no obligation to the order. 

“There are other orders of business we have yet to discuss” continued Rredua. “Those Velkese scouts we killed did not seem native to the area. Their cloaks suggested they were from the Supercolony of Taruzhia. There is a larger force out there and they could be hunting for us. We must leave camp as quickly as we can”.

“What of this large force in the area?”

“We have not confirmed a larger army but the Meerkats we killed were no doubt scouts. Taruzhia is an ardent supporter of the Blaverians- perhaps they know of the program”.

Garanthys expected enemy armies along the way- after all, the Empire was currently fighting an a large war with their own people. His measely force of 1,500 could not stand up to the great armies of the mainland but he was sure that the rebels would not waste their resources to take out a ragtag battalion of scientists. But he could not afford for the Empire’s adversaries to discover the reason for the voyage. This would sabotage everything and the expedition had just landed.

“Have the transports repaired and thawed out?” he asked

“They are ready for departure” she replied

“And what of the Hwakejjla transports?”

“I was going to consult you on the matter to examine the catch to ensure the wildlife was not harmful to consume”

The great Commander had been wise to consult the scientists before letting their Hwakejjlas feast on unknown animals where most Commanders would not. Garanthys agreed to examine the animals himself where the hunters were. Isryyken and Garanthys’ secretary accompanied him downhill.

“Before you leave General,” Rredua said before he walked out of the messhall, “Do you know of a certain Kemian Nyytsongkrye?”

“I do not recall the name. Is he of Surricatic descent?”

“He is a Enedoalnan Laeglassian. I believe his positions is 5 rays west of here”

“And his significance?”

“I have received reports from scouts saying that a large group of migrants landed just west of here and their spokesman, Nyytsongkyre, wishes to speak to you.”

Garanthys thought for a second if stalling in their position for a band of migrants to speak to them was wise and shook his head.

“Time has been unfavorable to us for three weeks and we can ill afford to stay longer. Dispatch a messenger and inform them of our southbound movement. Perhaps we can rendezvous at a certain position”. 

“Very well, then” Concluded Rredua who promptly turned around and left with the rest of her guards. All strange and important events Garanthys had not been previously aware of and his secretary failed to mention to him. Nevertheless, his army would continue on the journey regardless of foreign armies or interlopers. The world of war he was familiar with would perhaps be only a fraction of what was to come. Garanthys stood unworried about the threats and thought about the road ahead. As far as he was concerned, Rredua would handle all of the warfare leaving his team of scientists to have the whole continent to themselves. Garanthys sat on the precipice of the secret to death and had the world’s strongest empire to guard his claim.

[bd2187-blog]

Saga Chapter 1

2/11/23

I began reading Saga a few months after the first issue was released back in 2012. I was a sophomore at CSUN who just started reading comics. Thankfully, I stumbled upon the story of Saga, a sci-fi series written by Brian K Vaughan and illustrated by Fiona Staples. Fast forward 13 years later, I find myself returning to Saga for a fourth time. This time I’d like to document my thoughts, hence this review.

Chapter 1 introduces star-crossed lovers, Alana and Marko. The story is narrated by their daughter, Hazel, who tells the story from some point in the future. Vaughan creates a galaxy with humane themes that revolve around family and war. The first few pages introduces our main characters through the birth of Hazel. In this chapter, amongst the realistic and humorous depiction of childbirth and marriage, Vaughan takes the time to establish the galaxy they live in through brilliant world building.

It’s a time of war between the planet Landfall and its moon Wreath. Alana, a descendant of Landfall, was once a prison guard to Marko, who’s from Wreath. We learn that Alana saves Marko’s life and marries him. This news doesn’t bode well with many factions from both sides of the war. This results in the hiring of a Freelancer (aka bounty hunter), The Will, and the order of a humanoid prince with a television as his head, Prince Robot IV, to eliminate both Alana and Marko because their love is a sign of peace. The Will is hired by a Wreath native named Vez while Prince Robot IV is ordered by his father, His Highness of the Robot Kingdom.

As the names and depictions of these characters may seem silly, Vaughan manages to write one of the most engaging books I’ve ever read. The dialogue between characters are raw and many times humorous. The first words we read are from Alana while she gives birth to Hazel. As she’s in labor, she yells at Marko, “Am I shitting? It feels like I’m shitting!” Marko, maintaining a calm demeanor, later says, “ You have never been as beautiful as you are right now.” Alana replies in pain, “Right, because nothing’s more lovely than a fat woman spread-eagle in the back of an old body shop. It’s like something out of a fairy tale or... AHHN HOLY FUCK!” There’s never a dull moment with Vaughan’s writing.

In addition, Fiona Staples depicts these weird, often bizarre creatures, in a painterly style which would be hard to depict in a television show. (Fun fact, Vaughan intentionally created weird-looking characters and settings to avoid any television adaptations). Staples does a great job expressing raw facial emotions which makes the characters even more relatable (see page 1 book 1). She has a great use of color which sets the mood for different scenes. One scene which stood out was a page spread which shows Alana and Marko watching over a battle take place on the broken Uncanny Bridge while on the way to the Rocketship Forest. The scene has Alana and Marko faced away from the audience in the foreground with the battle taking place in the mid-ground. The blue of the night sky and the orange of the flames fill up the pages-- creating a beautiful yet chaotic scene (see page 44 book 1).

Staples also distinguishes character’s through their dialogue’s lettering. Hazel’s first person narration is hand-written while Prince Robot IV’s words are typed in roboto font.

Although I’ve revisited this story a handful of times, it never ceases to amaze me how Saga is so well-written and well-drawn. People often compare this story to Game of Thrones, Star Wars, and Rome and Juliet. Saga sets itself apart by creating characters that are charming, weird and relatable. Vaughan tells a story about a family trying to survive while they live in a never-ending war which originates from racism and class division. I’m excited to re-read the series while reading new issues as Vaughan and Staples continue to release new chapters each month.

[tenebriism]

Zenos cares for one, whilst Rothalion cares for many. A man without a heart and a man with one ten times his size. It's a wonder they were navigating this strange relationship of theirs with such success, then, because Zenos couldn't imagine going to such lengths for anyone besides the one he was spectating. It made sense -- the elezen had never spoken ill of either of the twins, not that his words were poor when referencing the other Scions, either. Rather, he seemed to possess a level of fondness for them that did not carry over to many others, and Zenos, though largely indifferent, UNDERSTOOD why Rothalion could not sit still once it was clear they were in danger.

The rain and winds whip and howl something fierce, but the prince, still, does not move. Even as his clothes are heavied to dampness with rainwater, and his long hair sticks uncomfortably to face, neck, and shoulders, he keeps rooted to his spot and continues his silent observations. Rothalion's swift actions certainly make for quite the spectacle, at least for the crew members who looked on from their own vessel now that they were safe within the shield. Applause soon follows when the other ship, too, is under protection, increasing when Rothalion and his companion return, confirming that the worst had come to pass.

" You need not apologize, " he reassures, running an unreadable gaze down the length of Ro's body, checking for any injuries, before returning eye contact once more, " I would have thought you ill had you remained here and merely watched. " Zenos has long since accepted that there are times where Ro WILL have to step in; this was one such WORTHY time, when lives had been genuinely at risk of being lost. More notably, Rothalion had chosen to step in and offer his aid rather than being dragged into it.

Zenos, as a result, is not upset by any means, but he IS eager to seek shelter from the torrential downpour still beating at the boat and everyone on it. He looks, simply and humorously put, like a sopping wet cat. " Come. You should disrobe and change into warmer clothing. " Rothalion's immune system could be indestructible, for all he knew, but regardless of whether or not the elezen was one to succumb to illness easily, there was no benefit in remaining garbed in wet, uncomfortable clothing. Hopefully, he shan't be TOO disappointed when Zenos opts to change into a pair of pants rather than the shorts that would do him no good now.

" You have not eaten since this all began. I will fetch you dinner, and then I beseech you to rest. Should landfall soon be upon us, I will be sure to wake you. " He's already shrugging off layers and wringing the water out of his hair with no small degree of trouble; long hair means more built up liquid betwixt its strands, the increasingly large puddle forming 'neath his feet earning another sigh. " ... I should like to bathe at some point, too. "

Once he was lo to accept simple existence, striving for more not wholly motivated by his treatment within Gridania. He could have easily moved elsewhere, chosen some other path that would lend him relief from ridicule and worse - but he chose instead to strive for more. For some time he had desired to make a difference, his motivations shifting with each step from the preservation of himself to that of others and then more. Nowadays, though, he had gone through enough that to simply exist for once was invigorating in itself. His soul would never quiet in the need for movement, this much he knew as he watched the unchanging ocean ahead with a determined gaze so similar to that of days long past, but he could work with it. He need not risk life and limb to explore, to see the world and experience life - and he did not need to give up on leisure either.

This journey held much in the ways of mystery and hope for the future, a step forward when for so long he had stagnated in fear and drowned in his own emotion and trauma. Zenos had helped him immensely in reaching this point, for without him it was unlikely he would find the strength to lend ear to the very concept of travel once more. He felt... lighter, happier. Reassured with Zenos at his side, especially noted by how he stands straighter and more confident with the other man near.

"As would I. We shall peruse, then," he agreed, dipping his head. What did they sell there, he wondered? To be able to truly embrace new culture instead of passing it by in a rush was exhilarating in itself, an experience he has not had since his exile into Ishgard where all seemed to occur at the pace of molasses.

As the trip lengthened, Rothalion would lead Zenos down below decks where it would be far more comfortable - and less breezy, as he noted the way Zenos shifted and tugged at his garments in discomfort. Even without the ocean to draw his eye he could not help the bubbling excitement, his every word simply bursting with it as he rambled on about the future. Of course he had a mind to spend ample time within the city, but in time he would desire travel through the land as well. Mayhap Zenos would see just how reckless Rothalion could be in his travels, something he had no witnessed from neither his temporary seat in Ala Mhigo or Garlemald. Ro was full of surprises - surprises that often made his companions of which had spent years at his side worry. Did Zenos even know that Ro could breathe under the water?

The oceans are never so tame as they appear from the offset, a matter Rothalion is reminded of as their ship takes on motions far rougher and unsteady than prior. He stumbles where he stands, catching himself before he is thrown across the room like a ragdoll, and the first thing on his mind is the other ship.

Despite the unsteadiness of the ship he launches forward, sprinting to and up the stairs onto the deck. His eyes flick outward, angry clouds darkening the skies akin to night and lightning exploding from their depths dangerously close to the boats. His gaze with all intensity shifts to the other boat, brows furrowing slowly as Zenos spoke from behind him. The sailors upon their own vessel had triggered the shield, what was keeping those upon the other from doing the same?

He tries desperately to locate comrades, catching the twins just in time to see Alisaie almost fall overboard and that is the last straw.

He did not speak, instead tilting his head back in search of... something. Something in the clouds, a shadow that he had been aware of from the moment they stepped foot on that ship. Rothalion ran off, flipping a small dagger from the sheath hidden among countless pointless trinkets and using it to scale the mast; a few marks in the wood would do little to damage the ship, he reasoned. He flung himself up onto the beam that held the sail, dragging himself so he may stand upon it ere he began to sprint along its length and dove off.

From above swept a massive beast, scales glistening like onyx against the torrents of rain. The dragon caught him upon his back and dove across the gap between ships, dark leathery wings pulled close. Rothalion leapt off just above the shield, landing lightly upon his feet and reaching out to finally trigger the shield.

A relieved sigh slid betwixt his lips, his shoulders slumping and a small smile flashed towards company ere he reached upward to wave for Amnon to return. The dragon swung around, extending talons to catch Ro's hand as he leapt back upward and carried him back. He dropped Rothalion back upon the deck, landing upon the front of the ship.

At least a dragon aboard would steal the eyes of those sailors once so concerned about another particular passenger, Rothalion thought. Despite the danger associated with his own action he could not deny the invigoration that followed a heavy flow of adrenaline, a shiver running down his spine even as fatigue weighed him down temporarily. He returned to Zenos' side, hands upon his hips with that same air of a job well done.

"Apologies, dear. I could not help it," he admitted, a light sense of guilt touching his gaze. He shook his head, waving towards the other ship. "Above all else, despite our disagreements 'tis the twins that I worry most for. I promised their mother I would watch over them, whether they like it or not, and they have been akin to younger siblings to me for some time." He kept the excitement of risk to himself, something Zenos likely knew he still harboured deep down.

Yet even for the excitement of the occasion, Rothalion could also admit that he was ill-prepared for anything too extensive. Such brief act had him desiring rest, evident in how he reaches to take Zenos' hand and tug him back below deck once more.

"But you are right that I cannot push myself all the time. Come, I believe it is time we rest. The storm will pass in time, and hopefully by then we will have reached our destination - or close to it." He smiled softly up at him.

[honeydjarin]

2. SNOW

DINCEMBER 2022

DIN DJARIN X READER

You coax Din from his spot watching over you, and convince him to rest beside you.

genre: fluff

word count: 1,200

a/n: here’s the second prompt, snow! A day late again, but my concept of time is so bad that this comes as no surprise. I hope you all enjoy!

PREVIOUS || SERIES MASTERLIST

Pale white, thick as a blanket and glowing like the moon, coats everything left to settle. Tree branches once bare have been tucked in for the winter, showcasing a new kind of foliage. From the safety of the cockpit, hidden away behind transparisteel sturdy enough to withstand temperatures far more extreme than the quiet planet beyond the crest could ever reach, you watch the world sleep in.

There hadn’t been this much snow yesterday.

You could hear it falling last night, each flake a near silent plunk as it fell against the Razor Crest. There wasn’t any wind, no harsh whispers against durasteel walls—this was a quiet storm. You imagine the roof of the Crest holds just as much snow as the rocks and logs below, the storm not knowing the starship’s inhabitants were only resting, not hibernating. The steaming cup of caf in your hands ensures that you won’t be going back to sleep any time soon.

Below you, in the hold, Din and Grogu are only just beginning to wake. It’s rare that you are up before them, or at least before Din, who seems to run on little sleep even if his body could use more rest. But last night you just couldn’t relax, too excited by the thought of snow. Not a sharp flurry with biting gusts, nor a pitiful dusting that melts as soon as the flakes make landfall. This was a real snow, with puffy, formless flakes, and even when you couldn’t see them falling, you knew. You could hear it.

By the time the barest hints of light began to turn the clouds from their midnight hue to a deep grey, you found yourself grabbing your favorite mug and climbing the ladder to the cockpit. You haven’t moved since.

You can hear Din talking to Grogu, making one sided conversation as he goes about his morning. The kid babbles back, trying his best to participate, but his meaning is unclear. The two sound well rested, content to enjoy the morning. The scent of fresh caf wafts from the hold up into the cockpit, and you’re almost tempted to go make yourself another cup. You’re just not ready to tear your eyes away from the scene before you.

“Are you up there?” Din doesn’t bother to shout. The door to the cockpit is open, and he knows that anything he says in the hold can be heard with ease.

“I am,” you respond. “It snowed last night.”

Din climbs the ladder, the kid tucked away in his bag on Din’s hip so the Mandalorian can carry the last of his caf with him. You’ve never met anyone who could down a cup as quickly as him.

“We should take Grogu outside. I don’t know if he’s ever seen this much snow before. Even if he has, I think it will be fun for him.” From the corner of your eye you watch Din stroke the kid’s head with a gentle touch, tracing the curve of one petal ear fondly.

“He’s been to Maldo Kreis,” you remind Din, but you know it’s not the same. Nothing good ever comes from a trip to Maldo Kreis.

“Maldo Kreis is a frozen wasteland. This is different.” You hum in agreement, finally turning the chair to face Din and Grogu fully.

“What do you think, kid? Do you want to go play in the snow?” The wide smile and quiet “Ah,” is all the answer you need. Besides, you can’t help but want to play in the snow yourself. There’s something satisfying about being the first living creature to make prints in fresh snow.

“I’ll go get him ready,” Din says before descending down the ladder with the kid, likely making his way to his sleeping nook where all mysteries revolving around the Mandalorian seem to hide.

When you hear Grogu struggling just as much as he had in the Shop, you decide to linger in the cockpit for just a moment longer, enjoying what may be the last glimpse at the scenery before it is disturbed.

It’s only when the muffled swearing and grunts subside that you drop down the ladder yourself, grabbing your new cloak from where it’s folded nicely by your own cot, ready to face the cold once more. It’s warm and soft and perfect, and you smile at the Din as you put it on. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get ready for your journey beyond the ship.

Din lowers the gangplank.

Before the ramp even settles on the ground, Grogu runs as fast as his tiny legs can carry him down towards the snow. As soon as he reaches the bottom, he all but vanishes into the snow. The pale green of his head hardly peaks out above the top, and if you didn’t know exactly where he was you just might have lost him. Or rather, if it weren’t for the bright red snowsuit shining through even the thickest of the snow, you just might have lost him. The fabric stands in such stark contrast from the white environment that there’s no way not to know where the kid has run off to.

“The red was a good choice,” you say to Din, and he hums in agreement.

You make your own way down the ramp, and Din follows close behind, keeping a watchful eye on both the surrounding woods and the child’s whereabouts.

Each step you take sinks into the snow, the fresh fall climbing up your shins past your boots. You won’t be able to stay out long—the cold against your feet will get to be too much even if your new cloak can keep you warm for longer. And if you’re already feeling the chill then the Child likely is too.

You make your way to a large patch of snow that hasn’t been disturbed by Grogu yet, and allow yourself to fall backwards. A flurry of snowflakes float up around you from the impact. It’s not good packing snow, but that doesn’t detract from your joy. When the flakes begin to fall back towards you, they don’t seem to stop.

“It’s snowing again!” you exclaim.

Grogu makes his way towards you, tired from running around, and falls back into the snow by your side. It’s a rare moment, a quiet one, nearly perfect. There’s just one thing missing.

“Come and join us,” you urge, turning your head to face Din so he knows your request is serious.

“I can’t. Someone has to keep watch.”

“There’s nothing out there.”

“You don’t know that.” The two of you are silent for a moment. You turn your face back towards the sky, smiling as a snowflake catches on your eyelashes. Even if Din chooses not to join you, you’ll still have fun. It doesn’t mean you wouldn’t enjoy the moment much more if he were lying by your side, but that seems like too much to reveal to the man who isn’t supposed to be anything more than just a friend.

“I do. Because you said so. That’s why you brought us here, right? Because it’s safe?” Din sighs, he’s been doing that a lot lately, before finally giving into your request.

He trudges through the snow until he reaches you and Grogu, standing for just a moment before lowering himself to the ground with a low groan. He leans back, the two of you on either side of the child.

The snow keeps falling, not quite silent but nearly so, tucking you in for winter.

NEXT PART

Taglist: @unmitigatedsuperiority @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis (sorry for tagging you both so many times this morning)

[lightdancer1]

A scene from the Gotterdammerung AU

The Kyoshi Warriors had failed in their first intended ambush of the architect of the destruction rippling around the Fire Nation. To be fair, nobody except Zuko, evidently, knew of living dragons and he'd never heard of a golden one with lightning-breath. It had visibly unnerved him and that was never good, an antsy Zuko liked to throw his fire around.

The second ambush was less an ambush and more of a prepared attack. The Fire Warriors, a group in mockery of the Kyoshi Warriors in a sense, all wore the same kind of armor, but only one of them wielded a blade. It was an assumption that the blade-wielder was not a Firebender.

The honor of the Warriors was impugned, again, though there really was no way around being outmaneuvered by a dragon, let alone the unfortunate reality Ty Lee had confirmed. Azula, for some reason, had turned against the Fire Nation and was unleashing progressively greater destruction.

When the rumors came of nine people in armor making landfall on the island of Ryukyu and making a beeline for Hira'a, an old citadel of the lineage that produced Kyoshi's (in the eyes of the Kyoshi Warriors distinctly inferior) successor, it was something that had drawn them with a swiftness propelled by the very boats that had assaulted their island.

This time, they vowed, they were ready and advanced with Katanas drawn.

-----

Hira'a burned before them, and to Suki's consternation and bemusement it was a surprisingly targeted burn. The monument to Fire Lord Sozin erected in honor of his triumph over Roku, a thing that the island of Ryukyu had taken a kind of strange pride in had fallen, a symbol of unity laid waste.

In truth they had little real reason to care about anything in honor of Sozin, nor that the symbols of the old Kingdom, in the time of the Unification and into the Age of Clans broken by Fire Lord Zoryu, were deliberately spared.

And then the leader, the one Ty Lee said was Azula paused and saw them. She had a blade, and drew it, and the blade was a strange one. The hilt was of no known metal they could identify and it rippled with strange runes that were likewise of inhuman nature, as if carved by claws. And then blue fire began to flow up the blade as she flipped up the visor on the helm.

"Governor Suki," she said with a dry tone.

"You have your own island to rule, and an Order in the honor of one of the great Avatars to lead. Why are you my brother's lapdog?"

Suki snarled.

"I felt bad for you, you know. When the Agni Kai happened. Nobody deserved what happened then."

Azula paused for a moment, the blade held in front of her and the heat from it formidable, the very stones in front of them seeming to wither and dry.

"Trying to appeal to pity won't work with me."

Azula's voice paused.

"Not anymore. I learned that lesson the hard way. Every time I tried to be kind to anyone, especially little Zuzu, it always ended badly."

"Why are you doing this?" Ty Lee's voice was a loud, almost shrill sound.

"This isn't like you?"

Golden eyes turned to her, the flames from her blade mirrored in them.

"This is what I always was, Ty Lee. Even you agreed on the beach. I am a monster, and this...." she held up the blade.

"I found this in the spirit world, during my two years' journey. It has a name in the tongue of the beings that left it, when they sought to assault this world and were broken by Avatar Roku in one of his hardest fights. In their tongue it is Asasvafnir, which I gather means something like God-Killer."

Her grin was a cold one.

"Well, that's one name. In the other name, the one the spirits themselves called it they called it Verrfringnagalza, Mountain-Cleaver."

She took a step forward.

"The creatures of this world are such fascinating beings, really. From a whole other spirit world to ours, and all they do is burn and blaze and ruin. A monster's weapon for a monster."

One of the more incautious Kyoshi Warriors ran forward with a loud ki-ai and raised her own blade. Azula gave her a contemptuous grin and then lightly moved the strangely-named sword and with a sudden explosive power the katana in the Kyoshi Warrior's hand exploded and the shockwave knocked her and a few Fire Warriors off their feet, though Azula remained unaffected.

"It is a blade of the spirit world," she said, smugly.

"It produces devastating effects in the right hand, but the wielder...."

She proved a point when she went over to the statue of Fire Lord Azulon and with a particular kind of relish slammed the blade into the dais.

"I do not suffer its effects."

They stared in horror as fire began to ripple from the blade and through the metal and then the entire Garden of Heroes began to dissolve in flame, as Azula drew the blade back.

"Anyone else want to wreck their weapons?"

One of the Fire Warriors warned her that someone was trying to sneak up behind her and with a sudden turn she moved the blade until its heat was close enough that the girl yelped back, parts of her robes afire and the smell of singing flesh and hair clouding an air already choked with smog with newer and more dreadful smells.

"Didn't think so."

The fire rippled out and it was only then that three more of the warriors sought to attack her and she grinned then, taking the blade in its seemingly 'normal' form and shattering two Katanas and then knocking two of the warriors down with the pommel in a well-timed strike.

The third, Suki herself, stood in front of her and this time the fires rippled back up the blade.

Suki put aside her blade and drew her fans, giving Ty Lee an imperceptible nod as she was to try to chi-block Azula again from the flank and Mingxia from the left. The terrible blade seemed unstoppable but nothing truly was. Feeling a scorching heat hotter than the worst days in the Si Wong desert, she gulped. This would either go very well or very poorly.

[elizabeethan]

Find Strength in Pain, Find Strength in Me 2/3

After defeating the wraith, Emma Swan is dragged through the portal they sent it through and suddenly finds herself in the land in which she should have grown up. Lost, overwhelmed, and desperate to get home to her son, she accepts help from the gruesome pirate Captain Hook— and his accomplice. 

A Season 2 AU in which Emma ends up the the Enchanted Forest alone, and she and Hook (try to) work together to get to the Land Without Magic.

Hi! here is part 2! thank you to @the-darkdragonfly for being an incredible beta and to @donteattheappleshook for forcing me to write being instrumental in the creation of this fic.

Rated T (for now) (I have no idea if that’ll change) (bit fat maybe)

~4800 words

Read on Ao3

Read my other stuff

Tagging: @courtorderedcake​ @kmomof4​ @stahlop​ @klynn-stormz​ @laschatzi​ @emelizabeth88​ @lfh1226-linda​ @kday426​ @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story​ @captain-emmajones​ @gingerpolyglot​ @ebcaver​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @superchocovian​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @tiganasummertree​ @gingerchangeling​ @jrob64​ @onceratheart18​ @xhookswenchx​ @winterbaby89​ @swampmedusa​ @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy​ @love-with-you-i-have-everything​  @shireness-says​ @snowbellewells​ @hollyethecurious​ @ouatpost​ @daxx04​​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @donteattheappleshook​ @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay​​

Despite her circumstances, Emma does not feel like a prisoner of fearsome pirate Captain Hook. In fact, she’s been made to feel quite comfortable in his quarters, and after he was sure that their interests aligned and that they were useful to one another, he told her she could have free reign of the ship to do as she pleased until they made landfall. 

 “No one on this vessel will harm you, love,” he assured her when she became bored of exploring his quarters, and she believed him immediately. 

 Maybe she was bothering him as he peered over his logs and maps and she tinkered with the exotic items he’s collected— perhaps that’s why he encouraged her to explore. Either way, she didn’t have to be told twice, and found out that the men aboard were surprisingly pleasant as well. Mr. Smee was a shy and timid man, but friendly and caring all the same. The rest of the crew wore snarls when they looked at her, but broke down easily the moment she began casual conversation with them. 

 Maybe it’s because they know how instrumental she is in their Captain getting his revenge. 

 As she leans against the rail of the upper deck after a day of learning about ships and pirating, she watches as the sun sets behind them, painting the sky an intoxicating shade of pink that fades into purple and black. Hook is at the wheel, navigating through the ocean that almost claimed her, and despite her situation, she feels safe. If she had to be dragged from the sea and rescued by pirates, she supposes she lucked out with the Jolly Roger.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it, love?” he asks her, and she turns to face him so she can respond. 

 “It’s beautiful.” 

 “Never been aboard a ship before, I take it?” he calls from the wheel, giving her a smirk at the look of wonderment on her face. 

 “Nope, never had much of a need to,” she responds as casually as she can.  

 “Or an opportunity?” 

 She laughs, a bit awkwardly, and says, “I guess not. It’s not something I've really thought about.”

 “I see,” he concedes when she gets closer to him, leaning against the rail just across from the wheel he commands. “So, tell me about your boy.” 

 She sighs wistfully and looks up to the sky, wondering what he could be up to, what he’s thinking, if he’s worried about her. “His name is Henry. He’s almost eleven, but he acts like he’s 32. Super smart, very passionate about the things and people he cares about.” 

 “Sounds like you,” he chuckles.

 “How would you know?” she asks with incredulity. 

 “You're an open book. And you did hold a knife to my throat yesterday. I can only attribute that to your passion and assume that you want to get home quite badly.” 

 “Of course I do,” she rolls her eyes, stepping closer to him until she’s leaning against the helm and glaring at him. “I’m his mother,” she insists. 

 He nods and says, “of course. But I sense that there’s more to the story.”

 Caught off guard, she answers, “well, just… he’s been through a lot. Especially in the past year.”

 “I see. And you don’t wish to contribute to his turmoil.” She shrugs, looking away from his gaze. “You don’t wish to contribute... further?”

 Her breathing falters at his accuracy and she says, “let’s just say I wasn’t always there for him in the way I should’ve been. He deserves better and I need to get home to make sure I can give him that.” 

 He nods thoughtfully, pursing his lips and looking ahead towards the horizon again, as if anything before them has changed in the last day and a half. “I understand, love.” It’s as if he shakes himself out of a trance when he says, “try your hand at the wheel?” 

 She raises her brows and gives him a disbelieving look. “After I just told you I’ve never even been on a ship?”

 “It’s not difficult to learn,” he tells her as he lifts his hand towards her, gently guiding her behind the wheel. “Besides, the Jolly is enchanted. You can’t hurt her.” 

 She snorts softly, shaking her head as he leads her and places her hand upon a handle, letting his fingers linger on the top of her hand for a moment too long. “How do you manage to get your ship enchanted?” she asks amorously once his fingers leave her skin, taking with them a feeling of gentle warmth.  

 “You know the right enchantress,” he flirts back, his mouth just a bit too close to her ear. She can almost feel his voice rumbling through his chest as it presses to her back, keeping her warm against the whipping winds of the sea. “There,” he says softly. “You're sailing.” 

 She laughs lightly, unaware of how exciting she actually found this until he put it to words. Seriously, she’s captaining a pirate ship! Henry is gonna be so excited when she tells him this story. “I guess I am,” she says happily. 

 “I think she likes you,” he says in a way that she knows isn’t a joke, despite how ridiculous it sounds.

 “Why, because she isn’t sinking?” 

 “Aye, she doesn’t always take kindly to strangers.”

 “And you let me do this?!”

 He laughs, but doesn’t respond with words, as if he knows he’s been caught. “I had a feeling.”

 They’re quiet for a moment, and while he’d dropped her hand and is letting her steer on her own, she notes that he doesn't back up and keeps her back pressed gently to him. “We’re going to get you home to him, love,” he murmurs into her ear, so softly that she can barely hear him over the sound of the wind. “I know-- well, I would wager that you have some experience with abandonment and… Well, I’m not going to let your boy go through that.” 

 She draws her brows together in thought, considering how perceptive he is, how well he seems to know her after such a short time. She turns around to face him, seeing just how close he truly is to her, and cocks her head. He reaches behind her to take control of the wheel, bringing himself even closer. “How do you know?” she asks. 

 His smile is small, sad. “I’m no stranger to a lost soul.” 

 “Are you accusing me of being a lost soul?” she asks in a tone as soft as his own. 

 “Perhaps I'm simply trying to tell you that I understand.” 

 With a hum, she says, “what are you saying, Captain? Are we kindred spirits?” 

 He cracks a brilliant smile, his eyes crinkling and glimmering in the moonlight, shining like the stars above them. “Aye, I suppose we are.”

 She’s so calm with him. It feels wrong to let herself relax into his hold, to let herself enjoy the feeling of his chest vibrating against hers as he speaks. She should be focusing on getting home, on getting to Henry and protecting him from Regina. Not fantasizing about a pirate she thought was fictional. 

 But then he leans closer to her, his hook on the wheel and his hand reaching up to cup her cheek, and she doesn't even try to stop herself from pressing onto her toes and capturing his lips in a slow yet chaste kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss her back, and she feels warmth flitting through her and settling in the deepest depths of her center until he’s tangling his fingers in her hair and getting his rings caught in the strands.

 She breathes out a soft giggle at the sharp tug, pulling from him and attempting to detangle herself from him. “Apologies, my darling,” he practically purrs against her mouth. 

 “It’s okay,” she whispers, planting her forehead against his and trying to catch her breath. They had only kissed for a second, but their close proximity and the raw, ardent nature of his observations weigh heavily between them and she feels something. 

 He kisses her lips again, one, twice, three times, before saying, “time for dinner.” 

 She groans and rolls her eyes. “Not more of that tack shit is it?” 

 He laughs heartily and says, “tonight you’ll get some more jerked meat, darling. Perhaps some rum to chase it down.” 

 “I’d love some rum.” 

 With a smirk, he steps back slightly and reaches his hand into his coat, taking out a flask and passing it to her, but not before removing the cork with his teeth and popping it onto the ground. She takes it happily from him, smirking back and stuffing the feeling of warmth that traces through her as deeply as she can. 

 ~~~~

 The ship is enchanted in several ways, she realizes. Hook told her that it’s impossible to damage her, but she’s discovered other quirks as well. For one, it’s never cold. Not only is his cabin toasty warm, as if it’s well insulated, but  the rest of the ship is comfortable as well. For another, although it rained last night and the deck should have been slick, it was completely dry. And now, music is playing, and she can’t for the life of her find the source. 

 The wind is whipping but the lanterns stay lit, maybe another side effect of the enchantment, and the crew lounges happily on the deck, enjoying their rum and their opportunity to relax. Hook leans against the ladder that leads to the helm, and she can’t help but stare through her lashes at his confident posture as he laughs at the crewmen dancing wildly. 

 They shout boisterously as a slower, more romantic song replaces the shanties, laughing and hollering at their Captain until he stands and holds up his hands in defeat, shaking his head and smiling. She isn’t sure what they’re all talking about, but she’s excited to see him do what he seems so adamant to avoid. 

 That is, until he comes up to her and holds out his hand, offering her a small, shy smile in replacement of the smirk she was expecting. “Dance with me, Swan?” 

 “Dance with you?” she asks in outrage. “I can’t dance!” 

 “Aye, another thing you haven’t had the opportunity to learn, I’m sure, but I happen to be a brilliant teacher.” 

 “You’re ridiculous,” she accuses, although she can’t deny the grin splitting her face that matches his. “Are you saying you know how to dance to this?”

 He takes her hand with a salacious smirk and practically drags her to the middle of the deck, placing his own on her hip. “It’s called a waltz,” he tells her, “and there’s only one rule.” She feels a heat radiating off of herself that’s different from anything she’s felt before, as if a light is glowing from her skin and hair as he spins her. “Pick a partner who knows what they’re doing.” 

 She’s breathless, and every fear and worry she's had since she went through that damn portal has evaporated out of her pores and into the salty sea air. He holds her closer, likely forgoing the proper form they were practicing, and she melts into him. 

 “You’re glowing, darling,” he murmurs, his lips grazing against her ear lobe in a way that makes her shiver. She looks down at her hands and sees the soft golden glow he must be referring to and gasps, noting it fading. “Relax, love, it’s very fitting. I’m assuming this hasn’t ever happened in the Land Without Magic.”

 “No,” she says thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t have worked anyway until after—” She cuts herself off, careful not to reveal the truth; that Gold brought magic back to Storybrooke after the curse broke. Then she stops to think… is this magic?

 “After what?” he interrupts her thoughts.

 She clears her throat. “Uh, after I broke the curse.” 

 “The one the Queen cast? You broke it?” he asks, suddenly serious rather than warm and flirtatious. She wonders how he would’ve known about that, but figures he must’ve been a child when it was originally cast; maybe he remembers. 

 “Yeah.” She feels guilty lying to him. Maybe she shouldn’t. Maybe she should just continue to savor the feeling of his hand running along her back as he pulls her closer. As much as she’s been enjoying their time together, she reminds herself that she needs him to get home, and she’ll need to do whatever it takes for their plan to take fruition. 

 ~~~~

 The next afternoon, Emma lounges in the Captain’s bed and reads one of the many diaries recounting his adventures. After they danced the night away, they came back to his room and she expressed interest in hearing about his journeys between kisses and soft touches. He stood and retrieved a leather bound book, handing it to her and telling her that she’s always welcome to his stories, and that he’ll happily tell her whatever she wants to know. She read until she fell asleep, with him sleeping soundly on the floor beside her, protectively positioned between her and the door.

 She knows she’s behaving ridiculously. She can’t possibly let whatever is going on between them continue once they make landfall. But it isn’t like she can accomplish anything while they’re out at sea, so she lets herself indulge in his soft lips and deep eyes and profound declarations in the meantime, making a promise to herself to let him go once they land. 

 She hears a commotion above deck and starts a bit, putting the book down on the bed and standing. Can pirates be attacked by other pirates? Certainly that’s a thing. She straightens the black linen shirt as she stands, the one Hook let her borrow while her clothes are being washed, tucking it more neatly into her jeans, and makes her way towards the door, pressing her ear to the wood and listening closely for trouble. She hears rustling and shouting, and her heart begins to race. It pounds harder in her chest when she hears a distinct set of footsteps making its way towards the door she’s pressed to. 

 When she hears the footsteps grow too close for comfort, she turns and presses her back to the door in hopes of blocking out an intruder. They try to push it open and grunt in surprise when it only moves a bit, and she plants her feet more firmly into the floor. Her panic subsides, though, when she hears a cocky chuckle. “Swan?” he calls through the door. “Are you playing hard to get?” 

 She breathes a sigh of relief when she hears his voice, moving from the door and carefully opening it just a crack to peek her head out. “What’s going on?” 

 He smirks, of course, and says, “We’re docking, love. What's the matter?” 

 “I thought… I dont know, I thought something was wrong.” 

 He shakes his head and squeezes by her to enter the room, shutting the door behind him and touching her arm gently. “Nothing’s wrong, darling. All is going to plan.” She doesn't miss the way his eyes trail down her body, slowly and obviously taking in the sight of her.

 “Stop looking at me like that,” she insists, pulling the shirt closed some more and hugging her body with her arms. 

 “I’m simply admiring the way my shirt fits you, Swan,” he smirks. “You wear it much better than I do.” 

 “Whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “What’s the plan?” 

 He chuckles and moves towards the table, stopping to pick up the book she was reading and putting it away. “The crew is docking us now, and then we’ll go to find the compass and then meet up with our colleague. Shouldn't be long before you're home.” 

 She nods, taking a calming breath at the anticipation of finally getting home. He’s told her the plan: they need to find a compass from a giant’s lair, but to do that, they first need to climb a beanstalk. She isn't sure what that will entail, and she isn't really excited to find out, but she’ll do what she has to to get back to her son. 

 Her shirt hasn’t dried yet. Hook packs it in his satchel so that she doesn’t leave it behind, but now she’s stuck wearing his flowy blouse with her jacket over top of it. He keeps checking her out, and she isn't sure how she feels about it. She ignores the blush and the heat that floods through her. 

 The port they landed at is fairly run down and not very heavily populated, which she thinks is a good thing-- she would stick out like a sore thumb in her jeans and leather jacket, but she sure as hell isn't hiking through a forest in one of those damn dresses. 

 They trek for hours, Hook filling the time with more stories that leave her with a sense of wanderlust. She grew up an orphan, traveling from foster home to foster home, and she always longed for a place to settle down. She’s never found herself wishing to travel the world, because she never had a home to come back to, but hearing his stories change things for her. 

 He’s an incredible storyteller. Sometimes it’s clear that he embellishes some events to make them more dramatic, but everything he tells her is the truth despite the fact that it sounds so unbelievable. It seems he’s spent years pillaging and plundering, and while she certainly can't condone all of his actions, it also seems like he’s spent much of his time enjoying the different realms he’s explored. He tells her so many stories that she isn't sure how he could fit all of these adventures into one lifetime. 

 “Can I ask you something?” she finally asks when she can make sense of his life no longer. 

 “Perhaps,” he smirks. 

 She carries on despite his playfulness. “How old are you?” 

 “Physically? Or literally?” 

 She snorts, bumping her shoulder against his at his joke, but falters when she realizes he isn't joking. She stares up at him, pausing her steps for a moment, and says, “uh, literally? I guess?” 

 “Around 250.” 

 “What?” she chokes. 

 He hums. “Aye, I’ve recently counted and I believe I’ve been on this plane for about 250 years.” 

 She’s speechless, blinking at him but unable to make her voice work. Shaking her head, she asks, “how?” 

 “Well, after my run in with the Dark One, I spent some time in Neverland. You see, the Dark One is immortal, so I needed to stay alive long enough to find a way to get my revenge. Once I found it, I came back for a few years, and then the most recent curse essentially paused time, so I didn't age again. So, I estimate around 250 years.”

 With her mouth still agape, she says, “I thought you were, like… 30.” 

 “Why thank you,” he smirks. “Physically, I’m around 36, I believe, so I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

 “So when the curse was cast, you were… the same age you are now?”

 “Is that not how it worked in the Land Without Magic? I was under the impression that time would stand still.” 

 She narrows her eyes, wondering how he heard such details about the curse, and managed to avoid it, but chalking it up to his piracy. “No, that’s how it worked.” 

 “And how old are you, then?” 

 “28,” she says without thinking, though perhaps she should have kept that a secret if she doesn’t want him to know that she’s the Savior. She can see the gears in his head turning, although he says nothing else and seeks no further clarification. 

 They spend the remainder of the trip talking about Neverland, which is apparently much different from how Barrie described. He tells her of the Lost Boys and how terrifying they were, even to a fearsome and relentless crew of pirates. While they walk, they encounter some branches in the path and he cuts them down, and she notices a tattoo on his inner forearm that catches her attention. 

 “Who’s Milah?” she asks, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the forest. 

 He stills but doesnt turn back towards her when he asks, “pardon?” 

 “Milah, on the tattoo?” 

 His shoulders fall and he clears his throat. “Someone from long ago.” 

 “Where is she?” 

 “She’s gone.” His tone is dismissive. Pained. 

 She thinks of the first day, once she was awake, when she explored his cabin in secret before she trusted him and found a sketch of a stunning woman with thick, curly hair and soft, kind eyes. “Gold,” she says as the pieces fall into place, and he turns to face her. “Rumplestiltskin. He took more than your hand from you, didn’t he?” she asks softly. “That’s why you want to kill him.” 

 She hasn’t seen him look this broken in the few days she’s known him. The timeline starts to put itself together in her mind and she realizes he’s spent almost 220 years lying in wait to avenge this woman’s death. “You're quite perceptive,” he finally says. 

 The guilt is eating away at her again. How can she go on with him, convinced he has a chance to kill the Dark One, when she knows how hurt he is? What kind of a person is she becoming? 

 One who will do anything for her son, she reminds herself. 

 They’re silent for the rest of the trek. 

 ~~~~

 She nearly slipped off the damn beanstalk. She wasn’t listening to him, his cocky attitude back in full force and irritating the hell out of her, so she grabbed a loose branch and it snapped. She plummeted, thought for certain she was going to die, until it stopped suddenly and he had his hook in the collar of her jacket. 

 “You should listen to your Captain,” he tells her, and she rolls her eyes, but internally she knows he’s right. He pulls her up close to him, pressing her front against the beanstalk and his body to her back. “Alright?” he asks, his lips brushing her ear.

 “I’m fine,” she responds, and she takes a shaky breath. 

 “Almost to the top, love,” he assures her, breaking away once she feels her shakiness subsiding. “Try that one,” he suggests, gesturing for a different handhold.

 When they reach the top, he pulls out his flask and she scoffs at his need for a drink, but then realizes she could use some herself. Only he isn’t using it for a drink, he’s taking her hand in his and saying, “let me help.” 

 “What are you--” she starts, and then he’s pouring the rum over a cut on her hand and she’s shouting at the sting. “What the hell!”

 “A bloody waste, I know. But I'll not have you losing a hand to infection.” 

 “Hook,” she starts, but he cuts her off. 

 “Haven't you learned to listen to your Captain, love?”

 She gives him an incredulous look, but when he raises his brows in quick succession, she can't help but to grin at him and roll her eyes. She’s about to say something snarky and brush him off, but then he’s wrapping her cut hand in a scarf and biting down on it so he can tighten it one-handed, not breaking eye contact with her. “Fuck,” she breathes at the sight, and then blushes fiercely. 

 He smirks and chuckles deeply, leaning in close to her and stealing a quick kiss before he places his hook on the small of her back and leads her to the castle's entrance. 

 “The last of the giants died ages ago, so we should be safe, save for any other intruders. All we have to do is find the compass and we’re homeward bound.”

 She finds it difficult to admit to herself how much fun she has as they dig through the treasure room, searching for the compass and joking around with each other as they do. Hook pilfers a few pieces of gold, but she can’t exactly blame him; he is a pirate, after all. He finds a small broach, a golden rose, and presents it to her with flair and grandeur, bowing deeply as he holds it out to her and kissing her hand when she accepts it. “You're ridiculous,” she accuses through a laugh. 

 They finally find the compass after what feels like hours, but the time passes painlessly. He helps her up onto the platform it sits on, humming amorously when her ass comes into his view, and she kicks his shoulder lightly with a laugh. 

 It’s as they’re wandering through the castle, slowly making their way back towards the beanstalk, when he says, “I must say, Swan, I’m looking forward to seeing where you spent the last 28 years,” and she feels that guilt bubbling up again. He isn’t excited to get to Storybrooke to kill Gold, he’s looking forward to seeing where she’s from. It makes her think of why he agreed to help her in the first place. It makes her think of his lost love, of Milah, and she feels as if she’s taking away his chance of avenging her. 

 “Hook,” she says hesitantly before they leave the treasure room. “There's something you need to know.” 

 “What’s that, love?” he asks gently, as if she can do no wrong, and the guilt is flooding her now. 

 She swallows thickly and takes a breath before admitting, “I know that you want to come with me to Storybrooke to kill Gold because you think there's no magic there, but… that isn't true.” 

 He stills, turning to face her fully and drawing his brows close together pensively, angrily. “There’s magic? In the Land Without Magic?” 

 She nods nervously. “After the curse broke, he brought magic back.”

 He scoffs, shaking his head and turning to pace in agitation. “Damn you, Regina,” he says under his breath. “And you knew, all this time?” 

 Her ears practically perk up, her heart starting to race again. “Did you say Regina?” 

 “Aye,” he practically spits. “The witch who said there would be no magic. Bloody charlatan.” 

 “What do you mean?” she asks, horrified to hear him talking about someone he shouldn't even know. 

 “I mean I was promised a land without magic in which to slay the bloody crocodile, and here you are telling me that isn’t the case. How am I meant to get my revenge now? Cora should've seen this coming. She bloody well knows her better than most.” 

 “Who the hell is Cora?” she asks firmly, backing away from him. “I thought that was the daughter of the lady you're working with?” 

 He runs his hand along his face and shakes his head. “I said Cora is the woman we’re working with. She’s looking for her daughter in your Storybrooke. Regina.” 

 She feels her face going white, her blood running cold and her eyes bugging out of her head. “Cora is… Regina’s mother? You know Regina?” 

 “Aye, bloody fraud has already betrayed me once,” he huffs, obviously still irritated. “I’m sorry, love, I don't mean to take out my frustrations on you, I just-- what are you doing?” 

 He notices her take the small dagger from the sheath he gave her earlier, pointing it at him and she holds the compass firmly in her other hand. “Don’t come any closer.” 

 “Swan? What are you doing?” She reaches behind her to tuck the compass in her back pocket; her sheriff’s pistol may have been damaged beyond repair by the ocean waves, but the cuffs are still fully functional. She takes in her surroundings quickly and then rushes to him, locking his wrist to the cage beside him without thinking her actions through and backing away. “What are you doing?!”

 “Hook, I…” she sighs. “I can’t--” 

 “Emma, look at me,” he insists. “Have I told you a lie?” 

 “You didn't tell me the truth; you’re working with Regina’s mother!”

 “How was I to know that was a problem for you?! I told you who we’re working with.”

 “Not really! Regina is dangerous, she wants to take Henry away from me! Do you know how bad it would be if her mother was there to help her?!” 

 “I will help you, Emma. You won't have to go through this alone; you won't abandon Henry like you were abandoned. Let me go and we can figure this out.” 

 “If Regina wanted me dead, Cora probably does too.” 

 “Wanted you dead?” he murmurs in thought. He cocks his head, confused, and ponders her claim. “Who are you?” 

 She shakes her head. “I can’t take the chance that I’m wrong about you.” 

 “Swan,” he calls after her as she turns around. “Swan!” She feels her eyes burning as she goes towards the beanstalk, but doesn’t allow the tears to fall.

~~~~

~~~~

[nitannichionne]

If He Was YOUR Fan Chapter 10: Thunder and Wind (A Henry Cavill Fan Fic)

You are watching the weather channel everyday now, and there is no denying it: there is a storm coming in three to five days, give or take. The wind velocity over the seas change, but landfall is inevitable. You feel a bit panicked; it’s one thing to face storms in your home town with family around you, but it’s another when you are in a place you don’t know facing a storm you’ve never experienced with no family around you.

The town is even getting ready, repairing shutters, and stockpiling foods. You’re no slouch when it comes to preparation and you have been slowly adding supplies to your backpack, even to your cabinets. You just aren’t sure where to go. The garage you are in is relatively new, so you are not sure of how much it has stood against, or if it was rebuilt after a storm. The house is a better bet, and you are afraid the garage apartment may be destroyed.

Luckily, the storm makes landfall at the end of the week, giving the movie crew a chance to film but also to secure what they can. Urgency fills everyone’s steps; it is important to do whatever can be done. Even Henry is being more precise with his performances, trying to do things in one or two takes. He is terribly busy and you understand when he can’t see you as much. Between trainings, new shooting schedules and just trying to get that eight to ten hours of sleep, he feels the need to lead and work harder than others, be an example and yet help everyone else.

You just try to be quietly supportive. You make sure he eats and drinks, which seems to be the first thing he throws out the window when he is in this mode. You introduce him to the twenty minute power nap and meditation in his trailer, things that saved your ass in the past when it was crunch time for you. He is a true Taurus-a true bull, trying to charge through everything, but you are more concerned for his well-being and what keeps him able to continue being that way. At first, he rejects the idea, but as he sees your concern, he relents and tries to take better care of himself.

                             “When we get off work tonight, I’d like you to wait for me,” Henry says in his Geralt voice as you both stride toward the set.

“Sure, but—” you hesitate, still instinctively feeling a bit intimidated by the tone but not as much as before. “you are really busy, so it’s okay if you don’t have a lot of time—”

“I have time for this,” Henry grounds out, but then touches your shoulder. “Just…wait for me?”

“Alright,” you nod, responding to the purr in his voice and seeing a look in his eyes that is new to you. He looks tired of course, but he also looks a little distracted and unsure. He leaves you behind the wall of cameras and in a few breaths and a clench of his jaw, Geralt has emerged and Henry simply cannot be reached. In the blink of an eye, Gracie blinks at you, and then blinks into character herself. You turn to finish your duties, heading back toward the trailers as you open the notes app on your tablet holding all your to-do’s as you stride over to have lunch with Stella.

“People are talking,” Stella whispers.

“About what?”

She looks around and then answers, “About you.”

“Me?!”

“Well you’ve been in Henry’s trailer a lot—”

You roll your eyes. “I stay and wait for him to finish eating, Stella.”

“What?”

“You know they are trying to get more done before the storm,” you remind. “He’s not eating or drinking, I can see it in his color. So, I stay and wait for him to eat.”

“And he does it?”

“Yes, it’s quiet persistence,” you shrug. “I told him what I’m doing and why I’m doing it once. I just stand there.”

“Is that why you’ve been taking a shorter lunch?” Stella began putting two and two together.

“Yes, my waiting is part of my lunch hour and then when he starts I start, or when he finishes I start,” you shrug. “It’s a guilt trip, my waiting for him to eat, but it pushes him to do what he should be doing in the first place, the bullheaded boy.”

“Stop it!” Stella laughs, rocking backward and losing balance of her lunch on her lap, almost spilling it on the ground but catching it just in time. “Did you like the minestrone?”

“That was really good—“

“I made it!” Stella beamed. “They let me do it! Have you heard anything else?”

“I don’t think there is any left, Stella.”

She gasps and gets up to check. She squeals in delight and you laugh at her giddiness.

“Happy day!” Stella sighs. “Oh, times like this I know I was meant to work with food—”

“Hey, guys!” Stuart greets. Archer is with him.

“Hey!” Stella smiles widely. “Did you have some of my minestrone?”

“That was you?” Stuart’s eyes widened. “You have to make that at the house!”

You smile and rise to your feet. “Well guys, I’ll catch you later, okay?”

“Leaving again, are you?” Archer asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, I have to get back to work—”

“You haven’t been around much, helping Mr. Cavill and all,” Archer says accusingly, almost spitting Henry’s surname.

“I am doing what I can for all the cast members and their assistants, Archer,” you say evenly, hoping you come off as dismissive instead of defensive. “See you guys later.”

The day goes on in flurry of changed orders and last minute things to do. There’s only a day or two left before the storm hits and your mind swims with what needs to be done. You overhear Stuart ask Stella to stay at his place during the storm and she agrees happily. You hope that Archer doesn’t ask; that would be awful and awkward. You realize during the course of the day that some people partner up on occasions like these-be it as friends or more.

At the end of the day, you sit by the catering trailer with Stella as she wraps for the day. You keep checking your texts to see if anything last minute pops up for you to do before you leave. You feel like Cinderella this particular day, dealing with Gracie’s demands of tea for her throat, cleaning her trailer, and walking actors’ pets, the latter of which you don’t mind. You just want to be sure you are done and ready to go when Henry is.

“Ready to go?”

You look up to see Archer and Stuart approaching. Stuart is particularly happy and relaxed now that he knows Stella is staying over for the storm. Archer, however, looks like the prelude to the event of the storm itself.

“Yeah!” Stella nods quickly, gathering her things.

You don’t move. You look around to see so many people gone, but Henry’s truck is still there, not far from you. You didn’t want to look like a puppy on a doorstep but you certainly feel like one now.

Stella looks at you questioningly. “Hey, you’re not coming?”

“I have plans,” you say quickly.

“Do you?” Stuart asks, nudging his older brother.

“Speaking of plans,” Archer asks. “I was wondering where you would be staying during the storm.”

You swallow hard. “I haven’t given it much thought.” That was true. You have been so busy with preparation for the thing, you missed this detail.

“Well, if you have nowhere to go—”

“She does.”

Your eyes fly up to see Henry approaching. His look is calm, but his body is rigid as he strides toward the group. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Henry nods. “ready to go?”

Your eyes lower as three pairs of eyes fly toward you. “Yeah, pretty much.”

He offers his hand and you take it. He effortlessly pulls you to your feet, and sees your tablet open. “Colin’s gone already. I don’t think he’ll have anything else for you—” he smiles. “Well, not today.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.” You fold the tablet case shut and slip it into your cargo pocket.

“See you tomorrow,” Henry nods with a polite smile to everyone, his eyes lingering on Archer for more than a second. He shifts his hand so that he is holding yours and leads you off.

“Later, guys,” you call back softly as you follow him. He walks you to the passenger’s side of his truck.

“Well, I guess you know what I wanted to talk to you about,” Henry says softly, your bodies inches apart as you lean against the vehicle.

“Not sure,” you say slowly. You refuse to assume, after all, what does Mom say? To assume makes an ass out of you and me….?

“I was hoping,” he paused, his eyes dropping as if getting up the nerve, but rise with intensity as he says his next words. “I was hoping you’d ride out the storm with me. They say it will be fronts rolling in and out all weekend, but the first hit will be the worst.”

“Yeah,” you smile breathlessly. “sounds like fun.”

“We should shop for some things we might need, you know?” he said softly. “I mean, safety, snacks, stuff like that.”

“Agreed.” You nod. “I’ll be honest, I’ve been getting ready all week, you know, little by little.”

“Great.” He nods. “So, let’s see what we’ve got, alright?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

He opens the door for you, and you slide into the passenger’s seat. He closes the door and as he walks around the car to get into the drivers’ side, you realize it may be time. The makeout sessions and massages, the kisses and caresses…it was all building into the point where something was going to give. He slides in next to you and stretches over to give you a quick kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“I’ve been wanting you to,” you say softly.

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