#le double edged sword moment

[basslinegrave]

ok im normal now

[angelfirstclass]

Rogue above all else.

This is fan post declaring my love for Rogue and that I love her more than I am attached to a particular ship. For all I know, Rogue can be with whoever she wants to be with and I'm sticking by her. I am an equal opportunity Rogue shipper and have liked and enjoyed Rogueneto and Romy fanfics and art and etc. I don't believe in ship wars and just want to promote my girl.

I love Rogue. I think she is the most beautiful animated character and she is such a complex, interesting character from the comics to cartoons to the movies. Her powers are super interesting with or without Carole Danvers' superpowers and make her an empathetic person.

Firstly, I love that Rogue is the daughter of Mystique and Destiny. What a crazy upbringing that must have been and so unique. I love that she was born and raised in Mississippi and still keeps her roots, but then became the adopted daughter of two smart, ambitious, and strong lesbian women. The backstory of them raising her is super interesting because there is such a conflict of interests for Destiny and Mystique from knowing Rogue was going to be a powerful mutant, using and training her to be part of the Brotherhood, introducing her to people like Magneto, and also loving her like a daughter.

Mystique is such a unique character and such a powerful woman that it makes sense why Rogue is as powerful and strong willed as she is. In my headcanon X-men First Class stuff still applies so Raven is still Charles' adopted little sister and so Rogue is like Charles Xavier's distant niece which makes things interesting. Raven and Destiny hid Anna Marie away while she was growing up, but came to Xavier to help her after her run in with Carole Danvers. They had to reluctantly give Rogue up to the X-men in order to save her, but it was a bittersweet moment that Irene and Raven both regret.

Secondly, I love Rogue's vulnerability and empathy. Her absorbing powers are so unique and bring up a lot of questions about what makes a person. She can absorb powers, memories, and feelings and can even hold on too long and absorb entire psyches and life forces. In the beginning of her story way back in Avengers Annual 10, she is bad and unafraid to use her powers. She not only uses her powers indiscriminately, but she also isn't afraid to kiss people to absorb them.

The Rogue we see in X-men 97 is far more tempered and though has a past, has learned to use her powers sparingly and not want to hurt people. She uses her super strength and flying powers, but rarely uses her absorption power because it is a double edged sword. She may gain powers and drain energy from people, but gets their memories, traumas, fears, etc. which may not be a pleasant experience.

Thirdly, I like pretty much all forms of Rogue. I love X-men Evo Rogue for her gothic personality. I think a teen Rogue would be introverted and different to most girls her age. I like Wolverine and the X-men Rogue for being independent and Wolverine's best friend. I like their dynamic and I like when she is Wolverine's partner and team mate and platonically just gets him because she has absorbed him and they're so much alike. The most vulnerable of all Rogues is Movie Rogue which is a controversial portrayal of Rogue. I personally think Anna Paquin is gorgeous and good actor who portrayed the sweet, vulnerable Rogue to a tee.

This Rogue wasn't raised by Mystique and she didn't absorb Carole Danvers' powers yet. She was a scared teen girl who couldn't touch people and whose storyline revolved around her feelings about her powers and wanting to have physical intimacy. It's not my favorite version of her, but it did beautifully show Rogue's inner angst.

My favorite version of her is X-men TAS or 97 Rogue who I think is Rogue Prime. She is the daughter of Destiny and Mystique, has absorbed Carole Danvers' powers, is the ex of Erik Lensherr, in an on off relationship with Remy Le Beau, sister of Kurt Wagner, great friend and dedicated X-man, and all around bad ass chick.

She has the Brotherhood/Magneto's ex/Mystique's daughter thing as her background which makes her a complicated character with a dark past which makes for juicy storylines, but she is mature enough to be fully reformed and a good person. Her duality and grey toned sense of the world makes her so well suited to complex men like Erik Lensherr and Remy LeBeau who are not traditional good guys with squeaky clean pasts and morals.

I love X-men 97 Rogue. I love Lenore Zann. I love the sass, the Southern charm and cute accent, I love her no bs attitude, her compassionate heart, and her empathy. Rogue is my Queen and I stan.

[ngbaodu]

TOPIC 2: Week 4: Digital Community and Fandom: Reality TV Case Study

Why are there more and more reality TV shows?

Reality TV shows are very popular and loved by audiences of all ages. It is because of their “reality” when they try to stick close to life that they are named like that. For reality TV shows, the drama element is indispensable because this is an important factor to attract the attention of the audience. At the same time, building contrasting character personalities, creating idols for each audience helps increase the appeal of the show (Chitra, 2013)

The reality is that there are many reality shows today from music, comedy to beauty that make me wonder why they are all choosing this reality TV style. These things all lead me to the question of why are there more and more reality TV shows?

It is undeniable that reality shows are very successful in conveying messages and capturing trends. Even an ordinary person can become famous right after a few messages that create strong spread, also known as trending quotes. That is also the moment for people who desire to receive recognition from the audience to have the opportunity to reaffirm themselves once again. A typical prototype that can be mentioned is artist Le Duong Bao Lam, a comedian who is very popular with the audience thanks to his humorous and witty personality on television, but that special love has become a double-edged sword that almost took away his growing career due to incorrect statements. However, it was also thanks to the program 2 days 1 night, a famous reality TV show that helped him reaffirm his image, and at the same time regain the love of the audience.

In reality, we always have two sides, so do reality shows. Along with the benefits and advantages it brings, it is also difficult to avoid the disadvantages. A few people think that reality shows are trying to create drama and take advantage of the lifestyle and privacy of individuals to attract viewers. But personally, I feel that this is the way for candidates on television to have the opportunity to receive love from many new audiences because they may love and sympathize with the lifestyle and personality of that individual. Everyone has different interests and views on life. Creating drama is a natural part of reality shows, if you feel uncomfortable with something, I think we should simply look at things from a more multi-dimensional perspective and limit negative judgments about a person or issue.

Reference list

Gold |Points: 60 |, PD 10 N 2013 |Updated: 10-Nov-2013 |Category: G |Author: C |Member L 2013, Pros and Cons of Reality Shows, India Study Channel.

Những người đóng góp vào các dự án Wikimedia 2019, diễn viên hài người Việt Nam, Wikipedia.org, Quỹ Wikimedia, viewed 5 October 2024, <https://vi.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%C3%AA_D%C6%B0%C6%A1ng_B%E1%BA%A3o_L%C3%A2m>.

― 2022, Chương trình truyền hình Việt Nam, Wikipedia.org, Quỹ Wikimedia.

[ritsu618]

K! Luzu x kny

Part 1 // Next

Well, this is the second character design I do in this little section that I call: "Schizophrenic moments that seem like I smoke something I shouldn't, but I don't really smoke anything, they're just crazy things I imagine" or to shorten "Karmaland & Dream SMP x Kimetsu No Yaiba" or for short "K!&DSMPxKNY" HAHAHAHAHA

It was already a lot of introduction, now, some small HC with history that I invented and is related to the other blog.

When he met Quackity he reminded him of how he was in the past (that he relied too easily on the rest). He was quite surprised that Quackity blindly trusted everyone even though he always kept his face hidden.

I always try to do the missions with Quackity and over time I develop a crush on his friend. At first he denied that he was in love with his friend, but eventually he accepted it and began to develop strange +18 fantasies, both involved in a sadomasochistic environment.

When he painted his "mask" and stole his hat he thought he would go looking for him without covering his face, but he did not, he went to look for him even though he had ruined his "fabric". He really liked that Quackity never made the attempt to erase what he did.

His breath is that of the wind. And the wind can be a double-edged sword depending on the situation (when he stole the votes for him to become a pillar).

He thought that when he would win the position of pillar he could continue doing the missions with Quackity, he even thought about declaring his love and saying his intentions of why he did that. However, after he was named pillar, Quackity gradually moved away from all of them and eventually disappeared without a trace.

The next one I will draw will be an old friend of Quacks, I do not regret continuing with this silly idea hahahahaha

And I don't plan to rest until I've at least drawn half the people of both stories.

What's more, once I finish with the bases I will try to make a comic (without coloring and probably pure sketches) of this silly idea hahahaha!

⇊ Traducción ⇊

Otra pequeña versión de color:

Bien, esta es el segundo diseño de personaje que hago en esta pequeña sección que llamo: "Momentos esquizofrénicos que parecen que me fume algo que no debía, pero en realidad no fume nada, solo son cosas locas que me imagino" o para acortar "Karmaland & Dream SMP x Kimetsu No Yaiba" o de forma abreviada "K!&DSMPxKNY" JAJAJAJAJA

Ya fue mucha introducción, ahora sí, unos pequeños HC con historia que me invente y se relaciona con el otro blog.

Cuando conoció a Quackity le recordó a como era él en el pasado (que confiaba demasiado fácil en el resto). Le sorprendió bastante que Quackity confiaba ciegamente en todos a pesar de que este siempre mantuviera su rostro oculto.

Siempre procuro hacer las misiones con Quackity y con el tiempo desarrollo un flechazo por su amigo. Al principio negaba que estaba enamorado de su amigo, pero con el tiempo lo acepto y empezó a desarrollar extrañas fantasías +18, ambos involucrados en un ambiente sadomasoquista.

Cuando pinto su "mascara" y robo su gorro pensó que lo iría a buscar sin cubrirse el rostro, pero no lo hizo, lo fue a buscar aunque haya arruinado su "tela". Le gustó mucho que Quackity jamás hizo el intento de borrar lo que hizo.

Su respiración es la del viento. Y el viento puede ser un arma de doble filo dependiendo la situación (cuando robo los votos para que él se convirtiera en pilar).

Pensó que cuando ganaría el puesto de pilar podría seguir haciendo las misiones con Quackity, incluso pensó en declarar su amor y decir sus intenciones del porque hizo eso. Sin embargo, después de que lo nombraron pilar, Quackity se fue alejando poco a poco de todos ellos y con el tiempo desapareció sin dejar rastro.

Se enteró de que Quackity se convirtió en demonio porque se enfrentó a un demonio y este lo revelo en sus momentos finales. (Sabía que era amigo de Quackity, porque una vez él le confeso todo su pasado).

Cuando hablo con los pilares sobre esa situación se inició un movimiento para eliminarlo (por traición a la organización). El único que se propuso a encontrar una solución "real" a las cosas fue Sapo peta.

El próximo que dibujare será a un viejo amigo de Quacks, no me arrepiento de seguir con esta tonta idea jajajajaja

Y no planeo descansar hasta al menos haber dibujado a la mitad de personas de ambas historias.

Es más, una vez que acabe con las bases intentare hacer un comic (sin colorear y probablemente puros bocetos) de esta tonta idea jajajaja!!

[lucifitzgerald]

aidenoconnell​:

Aiden chuckles softly because he can see Luci skipping through the library merrily which hushing anyone who is a decibel over the volume limit. He takes part of Luci’s bread and chews on it, following her gaze for a moment. “They um,” Aiden pauses to choose his words very carefully. “Have a long history but I think they’ve figured it out.” That’s to put it lightly at any rate. Simplest version. 

“I was probably going to buy a bunch of candy and hand it out to the kids,” Aiden tells her. He likes seeing how creative some kids can be, what they dress up as. “What about you?”

Ryan rests her elbow on the table, her chin on her palm as she hears what he’s saying. Understands it too as it’s a very sticky situation Aiden has put himself into and she can see it from both sides of it now. August has concerns because he lived through something unimaginable thinking Ryan was dead, he’s worried. It makes sense. 

“Il a besoin de soutien. Peut-être que ça pourrait marcher pour eux. Et si ce n'est pas le cas… Alors il aura besoin de toi comme tu l'avais eu.“

Luci nods a little, curling her hair around her ear. Yeah--she gets that, and she’s happy for them? She knows she doesn’t know them well or anything, but she loves the idea of love, of people deserving it, so if they were able to make things work after all this time? She’s glad it’s figured out. 

“I was gonna hand out candy too,” She smiles, “I was wondering if you...wanted to do it together?”

August hums lightly because he knows Ryan gets it--he feels like other than Aiden, she’s the only one he can talk to who understands where he’s coming from. It’s such a double-edged sword because he knows that pull to Luci is strong. But he also knows it’s genuine, it’s not just something chemical...it’s like it amplifies feelings that are already there. Ryan’s a vampire now and he still feels the exact same way he did when he met her. 

There are consequences that’ll come with this...he’s just not sure what they’ll be. And that’s what scares him. 

“Tu as raison.” He tells her, giving her a small smile. He will support Aiden, of course. That’s matter of fact, “Il est évident qu’elle l’aime.” He touches his chest breifly, “Son cœur est comme un colibri.” 

[feelin-woozy]

"You really think you are so much better than me" +bo or lester Sinclair please?

Btw i really enjoy your writing it is amazing

-🌺

argument sentence starters | Under the cut bc it got longer than I originally intended!

You lay in bed, a thin white sheet caught between your legs as you stared up at the ceiling. Your eyes roll over the knots in the wood, counting them as you would count sheep. It was the only thing keeping you grounded, saving you from replaying every detail from the day through the distorted lens that was memory recall. Every word you said suddenly was ulterior; every look you gave Lester was a double edged sword. Yet no matter how much you looked, you couldn’t place a moment that may have set Lester off, to have his smile forced and his eyes distant. Each clipped response he gave you made your stomach do flips, and the result was you excusing yourself to bed far earlier than you usually would.

Tension washes over your body for a brief moment as you hear the floorboards creak outside the bedroom door. You close your eyes in anticipation for the door to swing open. You make a conscious effort to level your breathing to slow, easy breaths to create an illusion of sleep. It was easier to sit and ferment within the dangerous spiral of your mind than to let the concern flow off your tongue. A part of you is afraid that you might not like what you hear.

Though Lester doesn’t offer you much of a choice as he settles into the bed.

“You really think you are so much better than me.” Lester mutters tiredly. A part of you breaks as those words leave his lips; it takes all your will not to argue vehemently against him. Instead, you remain rigid, letting your limbs sink into the mattress as your mind spirals with the force of a typhoon. “I know you’re awake.”

A soft sigh leaves your lips as they curve into a gentle frown, eyes fluttering open once more. You turn your head to stare at the man. He still has that distant look on his face that sometimes sunk its claws into him and refused to let go. Typically, it wouldn’t last this long. His bouts of moodiness and detachment were not nearly as volatile as Bo’s were. They left you unsettled all the same, though, but this time, in particular, you couldn’t help but fixate on it.

“Les, where is this coming from?” You shift onto your side, bringing a hand up to run your fingers along his forearm. He flinches away from your touch, so you drawback and let your arm fall between your bodies.

“See it whenever we go into town,” He says, turning so that he is lying on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling. You wonder if he counts the knots as you do. “Know I can’t give ya the city life like that, always looking like you want to run back into it. Like you’re better than what I can give you.”

Your frown deepens as you listen to him confess the thoughts that have plagued his mind through the day. You’re not entirely sure where he had gotten such a notion; you were more than happy here in the cabin with him. But you know that despite your best efforts at convincing him, insecurities crept along him like shadows, clinging to his form and refusing to let go.

“I don’t want that Les,” He turns his head to look at you with bated breath as if he can’t entirely take you at your word despite how he yearns to. “I want you.”

“Then why do you always get that look in your eyes? Like you’d rather be there than with me?” Lester’s words are challenging, and he stares at you with narrowed eyes though you smile in the face of his animosity. It makes the negativity that overtakes his features falter. But, even if it had just been for a moment, you counted it as a win.

“Sometimes I miss the city but only for a moment,” You shrug awkwardly, watching as his lips pressed thin. “I’m happy with you, here in our cabin with Jonsey.”

“Do you want to move to the city?” Lester’s voice dips into something closer to a whisper. You know from the way his brows pinch together that he’s dreading your answer, but a morbid curiosity propels him forward.

“With you? Or leave you?”

“Either? Both.”

“No.” You don’t hesitate, and you can feel him visibly relax at that. So, you take this as a chance to press yourself to his side, head resting against his bare chest and tracing patterns through the fine hairs that cover the expanse of skin. “I don’t want to be in the city with or without you for more than a trip. Wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

“Promise?” There’s a certain giddiness to his words, something so unique to Lester that both his brothers lack. You smile and press a kiss to his chest as he snakes an arm around your waist. He holds you close to him, and you don’t bother trying to peel yourself away. Instead, you allow affections to flow freely as you nuzzle and pepper kisses along him.

“S’long as you don’t start actin’ like Bo.” You tease softly, pushing yourself up only to loom over his face. You smile down at him, and he returns the smile. The doubts and fears have cleared from his face. That tired smile that pulls at his lips making you melt as opposed to fretting over him.

Lester laughs at your comment, the sound like music to your ears. His hand stroked along your spine absently before he shots you a lazy grin. “Fair enough.”

[housamo-side-blog-2]

Red Eyes

A celebrity is someone famous, not only for their blessings of beauty and knowledge, but for the hard path they have chosen to waik upon, However it can also be a double edged sword,for as one mishap of a wrong doing can end up being attacked by their followers, 

Thus the role of being a celebrity is somewhat both an incredible achievement and a poise you have to maintained.Thus you have to bottle your emotions,for as you have the role of being a major role model for everyone. Anger, Sadness, Jelousy, and even kindness, people will always interpret it,,,, as another..

.

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 .     

{Shinjuku Academy}   

It is nightime Shinjuku, Thus, every student is safely inside their assigned dorm rooms, patroling the area out incase someone violates curfew, two teachers are assigned to patrol around the school, 

However two unsuspecting figures managed to escape their rooms and quietly make their way towards Shinjuku  Academy, What could they be doing at night that will cause them punishment?, And why at night specificly? 

.

Student 1: Did you bring it? 

A tall figure in a black jacket and pants quietly asked their accomplice, as they brought out a can of spray paint. 

Student 2:Yeah,here. 

Student 1: Awesome!, now then,,,Take this Harumo! 

Student 2: Hahaha! 

Furiosly spraying the wall,as if it was a canvas, the duo sprayed all around the wall as they write down letters that will cause a certain someone trouble 

As they humbly sleep peacefully in their dorm room, dreaming peacefully and softly smiling as if they are having a wonderful time in their mind space. 

Student 2: Dude,We better hurry before the teachers hear us! 

Student 1: Hold on, I have to put that bastard’s name on it! 

The second figure peaks to the side to check if they are nearby,

Student 1: Alright done!, Lets go!,...

Student 2: I can’t wait to see the look on that idiot’s dumb face when they get framed!

Student 1: Haha!, Yeah! 

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{Narrator}:What awaits your tomorrow Dear Harumo? 

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.

{Next Day}

{Shinjuku Academy} 

You and your guildmates have just passed the entrance of the school, When Shiro noticed something strange.

Shiro: I wonder whats going on over there? 

Looking upon the crowd of shocked students as they look upon wall, as the teachers are trying to get things around. 

Kengo: Hey!, what the heck is going on here!?

Kengo asked a neaby student and said: Harumo spray painted the wall.

Shiro and Kengo: WHAT! 

Harumo: Me!?,,

Ryota: Guys!, hah...hah...someone spray painted the wall, and...Harumo’s name is on it! 

Harumo: What!, but i ! 

Kengo: What the hell are they taiking about! 

Shiro: Its ludicrious for them think that! 

Ryota: I don’t believe its Harumo either,but they are making sound as if you did it! 

Harumo: Who?

Student 1: Hey look guys its the culprit who spraypainted on it! 

Student 2: Why did you vandalised our school like that!? 

All turn to gase you as they await your explanation. 

Harumo: It wasn’t me! 

Student 1: Yeah, tell that when your name is on it! 

Kengo: Time to beat the shit outta him!   

Shiro: Kengo stop, you’ll only make it worse! 

Kengo: This assholes need a beating if they whats coming for them! 

Harumo: For the last time!, I DID NOT DO IT! 

Student 1: Yeah,yeah, criminals always lie whenever they did something wrong! 

Student 2: Criminal! .Criminal!.

Ryota: Hey! Stop calling Harumo a criminal!, They will never do something like that! 

Student 1: Then explain the grafiti then! 

Ryota: Grrr..

Student 1: Yeah just like i thought!, Nothing!,Hey criminal! hu...

.

.

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Harumo: FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

Like a thunderbolt you violently rushed towards the cocky bastard pushing them against the grafitied wall and gripped they’re neck tightly  as you look at them furiosly in the eye,staring as if you’re gase is like someone had been bottling up they’re pent up aggresion, and only now you are able to release it like nuclear bomb. as the color of eyes changed into a crimson,glare, almost as if a predator is about to bare his fangs on their prey. As you growled, fist clenched and hand on them tight as a rope, 

Student 2: Hey! what the heck let him go...!

Harumo: GRAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!

Student 2: Graagghh,,Le...meee....gooo!

Harumo: GRAAAAAGGHHHHH!!!!!,, 

Ryota: Harumo, stop! 

Kengo: Partner!, you’re gonna kill them! 

Shiro: Kengo! help me, loosen his grip! 

Ryota embraced you from behind as the two try to loosen your grip on them, slowly the two about to drown students are about to run of oxygen,as you blocked they’re airways with your tight grip. 

Ryota: Harumo...Please stop!...Please...

Kengo: Harumo...thats enough or you’ll end up killin them! 

Toji: Forgive me later Harumo...

Ryota: Toji?

{Toji knocked the anger filled student cold} 

Toji: Get Harumo to the clinic, I’ll deal with this two..

Kengo: Shiro,Ryota, take care of Harumo for now,{ Clicks his neck} 

Toji: Takabushi, I trust you’ll only knock them out..

Shiro: Kengo, don’t be an idiot!, you’ll only get in trouble, worse you might even get expelled! 

Kengo: I couldn’t care less!, IM MAD! 

Shiro: Kengo think about this! if you do this, you’ll never see Harumo again! 

Eyes widening in realisation, as his gritted expression turn to an expression as if he’s gotta comeback to finish you two off. 

Kengo: Dammit...Fine..Toji im leaving them to you! 

Toji: All of you get out now!, Now. i have some questions needed to be filled! 

.

Kengo: I gotcha Harumo..

Ryota: ....Harumo.....

.

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{Shennong’s Clinic} 

Cold air from the ac,fills the room,you’re cooped up in, as you make out what appears to be clinic, 

Harumo: What ...happened?

You rub your head as you feel your head spinning almost as the blood on your head going everywhere, 

Harumo: Wait.....

{Remembers the incident} 

Harumo: I...i almost...

Hands shaking from fear, you took a moment to get your bearings in order.        

{Door opens} 

Shennong: You’re awake..

Harumo: Shennong what happened? 

Shennong: You passed out, probably from the stress, your friends brought you here, Fortunately, the students you strangled are fine.   

Harumo: I...almost killed them......

Shennong: .....

.

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Mr Mononobe: Harumo..Thank goodness you’re awake..

Harumo: {Hugs Mr Mononobe} 

The moment you come into contact, you let it all out..as tears flow and drip on Mr Mononobe’s polo. buried in his abs, as you can feel the rockyness of it as you hurt yourself a little from the impact.. 

Mr Mononobe: There..there..Harumo..

Shennong:I’ll let the other teachers know.. 

Mr Mononobe: Thank you Mr Shennong keep up the good work!

.

{Hallway}

Mr Mononobe: Shhhh...Don’t taik now..I’ll take you to your room,

Harumo: But i..

Mr Mononobe: The other students have already spread rumors about your recent outburst lately, and...it could affect you..

Harumo: Oh..okay...Thank you Mr Mononobe.

Mr Mononobe: Its only natural i care for my students.

.Harumo: Im sure everyone thinks im a monster now..

Mr Mononobe:...I don’t think you are..

Harumo: I nearly killed them!,

Mr Mononobe: But you didn’t.. 

Harumo: Thats because i blacked out! .

Mr Mononobe: And? 

Harumo: And??..

Mr Mononobe: If you truly call yourself a monster,then those wouldn’t be in the office right now.

Mr Mononobe: “A monster is being whom only exist to bring destruction”.

Harumo:....

Mr Mononobe: You need time to cool off and think rationally. I’ll inform Shiro that i brought you to your dorm. So don’t worry about them.. 

Harumo:..Okay...Thanks again Mr Mononobe,

Mr Mononobe: Just doing my job..

{Dorm room} 

Harumo:.....

“A monster is a being whom only exist to brin destruction”

Laying on your bed,facing the sceiling. while recalling your outburst on the two students.. the very thought of it,makes you jump out in shocked as you stare at both of your rugged hands,probably from the tightness you were gripping caused it. 

Harumo:.....

{Knock Knock} 

???: Harumo,are you there? can i come in? 

Harumo: That voice...

{Door opens} 

.

.

Ryota: Harumo!..You’re okay.. 

Harumo: Ryota, why are you here?

Ryota: Hehe. i sneaked out, preteding i was going to the bathroom, 

Harumo: Ryota{ Hugs Ryota} 

Ryota: sHHH..its  Okay..im here for you Harumo...

Harumo:*sobbing on Ryota’s shoulders* 

Ryota: Lets sit down Harumo..

.

.

Ryota: Are you feeling okay now? 

Harumo: A ...little...

Both of you sat to next to each other on the bed, as Ryota gave his bottle of juice to the crying young man.. 

Ryota: ...Good news!,Toji caught the culprits who tried to framed you, 

Harumo: Really?!, who was it? 

Ryota: It was those two.

Harumo: ..Okay..

.

Registering the goodnews. you can’t help but remember the way you strangle them without mercy as you are lost in your own train of thought, from it, Silence fills the room as you sip from the straw. Ryota breaks the silence.  

Ryota: I’ve never seen you act like that Harumo...

Harumo: .....Yeah....me too...

Ryota: Do you....want to taik about it? 

Harumo:......

Ryota: Harumo..you know im always here for you, so does Shiro, Kengo, Moritaka,and Toji, We’re all here for you..If you want to taik I’ll listen to every word.so please don’t ..hold it in .

.

.

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Harumo: Am i a monster?..

Ryota: Off course not! why would you think of that!

Harumo:” A monster only exists to bring destruction” thats what Mr Mononobe said, But the more i think about it, the more its ...its actually true..

Ryota: You are not a monster Harumo.. You’ve never been one, ever since we’ve met on the park, 

Ryota: Do you remember,what i said about you could have saved yourself if you just abandoned me..

Harumo:....

Ryota: You didn’t abandoned me,and you saved me, even though we were strangers that time, if you really are a monster then i wouldn’t be here taiking to you, i would have been in Oni’s stomach by now..

Harumo: But i....

Ryota: You didn’t killed them,, and thats whats important right now... 

Harumo: {Stares at his shaking hands} 

Ryota: Harumo...

The orange chubby places a gentle hand, to ease your quivering palms, you can feel the warmness in them as you feel the soft touch of his skin coming into contact with your rugged hands. and places it on his cheek. 

Your quivering expression turns to shocked as you stare upon Ryota directly into his peach colored eyes. But you look as if you’re staring directly to his warm soul, that it almost made you tear up..And as you do, 

 Harumo: Ryota....!  

Ryota:......

You embraced the chubby cinnamon roll slightly tight, as you cry on his shoulders on the other one, While Ryota gently strokes your fluffy greyish hair, and closes his eyes as you let it all out, 

Embraced in a warming matter, the hallway echoes your emotions,for as the sun rays down on an warming atmosphere, making it much more ....peaceful... 

.

.

.         .     .  

[coppicefics]

Masked Omens: Prologue

Read the fic here!

[Image Description: Image 1 - A simple rendition of the Masked Singer UK logo, a golden mask with colourful fragments flying off of it. The mask has a golden halo and a golden devil tail protruding from either side. Below, gold text reads 'Masked Omens'.

Image 2 - A scrapbook with two newspaper cuttings pasted in. Each has a date handwritten by it; the first reads ‘Tadfield Gazette, 24th July 2009��. The second reads ‘Toffley Courier, 10th August, 2009′. Full text transcription below cut. End ID.]

Tadfield Gazette, 24th July 2009

HIDDEN GEM: O’LEARY’S LATEST STUNS CRITICS Masterful casting highlights themes of innocence and fear against a background of domestic drama. [”What do you care, David? Maybe I’d rather he dream of monsters than wake alone, like me.” ~ Jane Winsome, Act 2, Scene 3] RUMOURS OF Colleen O’Leary’s retirement have been greatly exaggerated. While it’s true that in recent years her name has been conspicuously absent from the glossy playbills and bright posters of the West End, the Dublin-born playwright still has plenty to say. Her latest offering, Hidden, is on the surface a simple domestic drama about an upper middle class family with a young son. It follows their trials and tribulations through a single fraught year as ten year old Matthew (played by the talented young team of Warlock Dowling, Gert Johnson and Adam Young in rotation) questions his relationship with his parents, his nightmares, and ultimately the world around him. Anita Lovett is both adoring and adorable in her role as Matthew's mother Jane, while Oscar Williams fulfils the role of a baffled, slightly distant father as David Winsome. The cast is rounded out by Anthony Crowley, making a return to acting in the role of Ashton Storeth, Matthew's babysitter. What might have been a fairly pedestrian premise – a child becomes unsettled as his parents fail to find time for him – is elevated to new and sinister levels by Crowley's double role as both minder and monster; Matthew is plagued by nightmares of a dark creature that dwells beneath his bed, a creature that seems to have a lot in common with the mysterious Storeth. As Matthew's nightmares increase in both frequency and severity, strange events unfolding in the household lead the audience to question just how much of what they're seeing on stage is real. The script seems to demand introspection of its audience; how much can we ever really know about the world we live in or the people we invite into our homes, even trusting them with our most precious treasures, our children? And yet, ultimately, Storeth and the Nightmare have more meaningful interactions with young Matthew than either of his parents. It's a thought-provoking piece with an ending that must be seen and not spoiled. All in all, a triumphant return to the stage for both O'Leary and Crowley, who seem to have come determined to prove themselves and done so admirably. Hidden is now booking until September 30th this year; for venue information and to book tickets, visit www.hiddenuktour.com.

Lots Donated To Charity Fundraiser WITH PREPARATIONS well underway for the Anna and Eve Foundation’s upcoming auction, it seems there are still more celebrities prepared to offer up their most prized possessions for a good cause. The latest announcement of items going under the hammer includes: The upright piano played in the drawing room scene in The Grasswater Affair, kindly donated by Celestireel A flaming sword used in the original magic act of The Amazing Mr Fell, as seen on last year's Royal Variety Performance, with personal instruction in its use from the magician himself A signed drumskin and drumsticks used by Queen drummer, Roger Taylor A Nike Total 90 Omni football signed by every member of this year’s league-topping Tadfield FC squad The stunning faux-diamond necklace worn by Angela Crowley in the 2003 film More than a Memory, contributed by Pace Productions (newspaper cuts off here)

An advert for the Four Horse Inn is also cut off at the bottom of the cutting.

Toffley Courier, 10th August 2009

Toffley Gate Protests Planned [Uriel Scrolle, Reporter] When Lawrence Richmond was elected as MP for Toffley South, it was partly on the strength of his campaign promise to invest in building affordable housing for local people. Sure enough, within a year of his election, his flagship development had been completed. Having opened its doors in 2006, Toffley Gate is a towering edifice of concrete and glass, boasting over 300 individual homes, most of which are luxury apartments – but many of them still stand empty. Now local housing campaigners are calling for lower rents to be imposed on these unoccupied units in a bid to open them up to local people who cannot afford the current rates. (Continued below.) [Image: A large, modern block of flats in yellowed black-and-white newsprint. End ID.] [Caption] The Toffley Gate development, pictured shortly after completion. Local housing activists say the affordable housing they were promised has never been provided. Photo: Daniel Brubaker on Unsplash. [End caption.]

Local Theatre Reports Record Sales for O'Leary's 'Hidden' Masterpiece: Former 'Kilcridhe' star steals show with moving performance [Citron Deux-Cheval, Arts Critic] Greater Deville’s Inferion Theatre has long struggled to fill seats as the rise of commuting in the town has left residents with far les [sic] time and money to spend on the town’s recreational offerings. It relies, therefore, on the continued patronage of those who are able to attend regularly, and on the rare piece of theatre that causes its audiences to insist friends and family go along and watch, too. This week, it reported its highest ticket sales for a single show in over ten years for the Saturday night showing of Hidden, a new play from veteran playwright Colleen O’Leary. Naturally, I had to go along and see what all the fuss was about, and I was glad I did. Hidden is a deep, dark exploration of the psyche masquarading [sic] as a simple drama about two unhappily married parents and their neglected child. While the story of David and Jane Winsome (Oscar Williams and Anita Lovett respectively) and their strained marriage is compelling, with painful betrayals and soft, poignant moments aplenty, it’s their son Matthew who steals the show, along with his au pair, Ashton Storeth, played to perfection by Anthony Crowley (once a familiar face on our television screens as heart-throb Father Jacob MacCleod in Kilcridhe). On the night I attended, Matthew Winsome was portrayed by eleven year-old Gert Johnson, one of three children who take turns in the role. For such a young boy to take on such a complex role is a very tall order, but Johnson more than rose to the challenge, demonstrating a thorough understanding of the mix of fear and adoration with which Matthew regards Ashton. In scenes with his mother and father, Matthew is quiet and respectful, almost withdrwan - but opposite Crowley, who plays the double roles of Ashton and The Nightmare, he becomes expressive and unspoken, loud in his anger, his fear and, yes, his love. Crowley, too, gives an incredible double-edged performance as warm, gentle Ashton and the silent, sinister presence that lurks beneath his charge’s bed - perhaps drawing on his own inner demons to lend authenticity to the role. Hidden is a play that leaves much open to interpretation: whether The Nightmare is real or imagined, what, if anything, it has to do with Ashton, and what the surprising ending means for the family. It’s a play to get you thinking, and I highly recommend you go along. Hidden is playing at the Infernion until August 15th. Contact the Box Office on 01632 496055 to book.

[swanqueeneverafter]

Sins of the Past Pt.5

Camelot. Past. Night. (An agitated Uther dines with Morgana.) Uther: “You seem troubled, Morgana. Is something wrong?” Morgana: “No, father. I’m sorry I’m not better company.” Uther: “I’m merely concerned for your welfare, that’s all.” Morgana: “Thank you, My Lord. All is well.” (Arthur enters.) Uther: “What news of the hunt for the Druid boy?” Arthur: “We have conducted an extensive search. The boy is nowhere to be found.” Uther: “You mean you failed to find him?” Arthur: “Perhaps he’s already left the city.” Uther: “You’re telling me that a wounded boy is able to evade the guards and escape the city? Nonsense, someone’s hiding him. I want him found.” Arthur: “He’s just a boy. What harm can he do?” Uther: “He is a Druid, and that makes him dangerous.” Morgana: “The Druids would see my father’s kingdom destroyed.” Uther: “Morgana is right. Double your efforts.” Arthur: “Yes, My Lord.” Uther: “Keep searching until you find him.” Morgana's Chambers. (With Mordred looking on, Morgana stands wearing Guinevere's clothes.) Morgana: (Sighs:) "It’ll have to do. (Turns to Mordred:) We’re going to get you out of Camelot. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise. (Guinevere enters the room:) Did you get the keys?" Guinevere: "Yes. (Holds them up:) The door is behind the shield at the far end of the armoury. I'll prepare you some food and water for the journey." Morgana: "Thank you. I feel I’ve put you in danger without ever stopping to ask how you feel about it. I’m sorry." Guinevere: "I know how it feels to face the threat of execution. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Just be careful."

Storybrooke. Present. The Dragon's Lair. (Henry stops by the former 'Roni's'.) Henry: (Leaning against the bar:) "Wow, I've never seen this place so busy." Robin: (Proudly:) "Yep, ever since we changed to a bar and restaurant - complete with theme nights - profits have been through the roof." Henry: "Maleficent must be thrilled." Robin: "Well you'd think so, but when Remy asked her to change the name to 'Le repaire du Dragon', the look she gave him..." Henry: "She's not a big fan of change, huh?" Robin: "No, but she can't argue with the results. I mean, no one was coming to this place when it was some sort of kinky sex dungeon anyway. Except your parents of course. (Henry winces:) Sorry." Henry: "Yeah. Can I get a refill please, I've got to get back out there." Robin: "Sure thing. (Takes Henry's coffee mug:) So, how was game night?" Henry: "Oh I told them I had to work. It just wouldn't have been the same without Ella there anyway." Robin: "Tell me about it. Between Emma and Regina, Snow and David and Robin Hood and my mom, I was kinda glad Mal wouldn't let me take the night off. I mean all that mushy love stuff can get a little..." Henry: "I know what you mean. (Taking his coffee:) Thanks, I'll see you later." Robin: "Cya." Dragon's Lair. Recent Past. 50's Night. (The bar has been turned into a retro 50's diner for the evening with the jukebox playing and people dancing. Sitting at the bar, Regina and Emma, dressed as 'Sandy and Danny' are in deep discussion.) Emma: "I don't know what to tell ya, we flipped a coin and I won." Regina: "But you're a natural blonde! It just makes more sense for you to be Sandy. Roni had just the right leather jacket for this." Emma: "Seriously, you want to talk to me about leather jackets? Besides, (Playing with 'Sandy's' scarf:) I kinda like you as a blonde." Regina: "Oh you do, do you?" Maleficent: (Standing behind the bar:) "Oh please." Emma: "Hey, can we get some shots?" Regina: "Shots? Are you trying to get me drunk?" Emma: "Haven't you seen the movie? It's my job to turn the good girl, bad." Maleficent: "Ugh. I'll be in my office." (Maleficent turns and walks down the hall and out of sight.) Emma: (Calling after her:) "What about our shots?" Regina: "Shh, I'll get them. (Regina stands and walks around the bar, picking up some glasses:) I did used to own the place after all."

Emma: "What's up with Maleficent?" Regina: "Oh don't worry about her, it's probably a full moon." Emma: "That's Werewolves, not Dragons." Regina: (Pouring the shots:) "Look who knows so much all of a sudden. (They clink glasses and knock the shots back. With a grimace:) So, in this movie Sandy meets up with this Danny person and he's a bad influence?" Emma: "Well yeah, sorta. I mean how bad can anyone who bursts into song every five minutes really be?" Regina: "Oh, well there goes that idea." Emma: "What idea?" Regina: "I was just thinking we could watch it sometime, but you know how I feel about musicals." Emma: (Watching Regina pour another shot:) "You know we could go home, put it on and then not watch it together." Regina: "What would be the point in- (Sees the look on Emma's face:) Ah, I understand. (Picks up her shot:) Well then take me home, Big Bird." Emma: "I think you mean T-Bird. (They down their shots. Slamming the glass down on the bar:) Let's go, Sandra Dee." Camelot. Past. Morgana’s Chambers. (Morgana prepares to take the boy to safety when she sees the look on Guinevere’s face.) Morgana: “What is it? What’s wrong?” Guinevere: “You’re risking so much for this boy. Let me take him out of the castle.” Morgana: “No. It’s too dangerous. I’ll do it. If you are caught, Uther will execute you. The boy’s my responsibility.” Guinevere: “You don’t know anything about him.” Morgana: “There’s a bond between us.” Guinevere: "Stronger than the bond you have with Uther?" Morgana: “It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Perhaps I was always meant to help him.” Guinevere: "How can that be?” Morgana: “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. (Guinevere sighs and shakes her head:) I must go." Guinevere: “Good luck.” (Guards march through the castle as Morgana peeks over the edge of the curved stairs and descends with Mordred. A serving girl sees them sneaking off through the corridor at the bottom of the spiral stairway. They sneak out through the door behind the shield in the armoury. Arthur enters the armoury with a guard.) Guard: “A servant saw someone entering. They had a boy with them.” (Arthur sees the revealed door and checks his key ring, but the key is missing.) Arthur: “Sound the warning bell.” Guinevere’s House. Night. (Guinevere looks out the window while the warning bells sound. Morgana and Mordred enter.) Guinevere: “There’s enough food for three days. Your horse is fed and watered. I’ll take you to it.” Morgana: “No. There’s no point in all of us risking our lives.” Guinevere: “What about you?” Morgana: “I’m the King’s daughter. I’ll take my chances.” Guinevere: “Morgana!” Morgana: “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. We must go.” Lower Town. (Morgana and Mordred try to run, but Arthur and the guards approach through their exit. Morgana and Mordred hide in a nearby building. Arthur enters.) Arthur: “Fan out. (Morgana and Mordred make a break for it, but they run across a guard and Arthur blocks the other side of the path. Arthur draws his sword and places it at Morgana’s back:) Halt, or I’ll run you through. Show yourself.” (Morgana turns around. Arthur is shocked.) Morgana: “Let him go. I beg you. He’s just a child.” (Arthur considers his options, looking at the guards around him.) Arthur: (To the guards:) “Restrain them.” 

Wonderland. Present. (Ella and Will continue walking towards the Mad Hatter's house.) Ella: (Spotting it:) "Will. Over there! The Hatter's house. (Begins running:) Hurry!" Mad Hatter's House. (Ella opens the door and enters.) Ella: "Mother! (Dozens and dozens of hats are all that greet them:) I'm here!" Will: "Ella." Ella: "She must be here. It's too dark to tell, or maybe she's sleeping or something." Will: "Your Mother ain't here." Ella: "No, she must be here." Will: "Ella. (Ella starts looking through all the hats, desperately:) Ella. I'm sorry. But she's not. And as far as I can tell, she never was. If she were, wouldn't she have shown herself by now?" Ella: "But she was here, I can sense it." Will: (As Ella leaves the house:) "Ella." (Walking outside, Ella closes her eyes for a moment, dejected. Opening her eyes again, she feels something.) Ella: "Will, come quickly! (Will exits the house:) My necklace. The one my parents each kept a piece of, look!" Will: (Stares at the necklace:) "It's glowing." Ella: "It's a sign! We were meant to come here. My mother was here, I knew it!" Will: "But she's not anymore. You said it yourself, this was your best chance at finding a clue as to where she went and there's nothing here." Ella: (Smiling:) "This isn't the time to be stubborn, Will. Look!" (Ella holds up the still glowing necklace.) Will: (Gently pushes it away:) "I'm not being stubborn." Ella: "Yes, you are. If you want to leave, leave. But I'm staying." Will: "Because of a necklace?" Ella: "Because she's here." Will: "But you have no proof." Ella: "When you really love someone, you don't need proof. You can feel it. She's here. I'm gonna find her. Now the only question is, are you coming with me?" Will: "I was afraid you were going to ask me that." Ella: "Is that a 'yes'?" Will: (Smiles, despite himself:) "Bloody hell. Come on then." (Replacing the glowing necklace, Ella wipes away her tears as she and Will continue their search, together.) Kingdom of Valencia. Catrina's Guest Chambers. (Kneeling on the floor of her room with Jonas, Catrina enchants a necklace with her blood.) Catrina: "Ic nemne þá grædige, yfele, formolsnung. mé getryme. Nu meaht þú begalan. Nu meaht þú begalan. (To Jonas:) Dinner time." (She cackles.) 

Gareth’s Chamber. (Gareth and Catrina have dinner together.) Catrina: “Isn’t this perfect? You and me together. A toast. A toast to us.” Gareth: “To us.” Catrina: “There’s something I want to give you. It belonged to my father, and his father before him.” Gareth: “Oh, My Lady, I couldn’t possibly…” Catrina: “No, no, no, I want you to have it. Perhaps when you look at it, it will remind you of me.” (She puts the enchanted necklace around Gareth’s neck.) Gareth: “I shall wear it always.” Catrina: “That is as well, for am I not beautiful, Gareth?” Gareth: “Oh, you are beautiful, My Lady.” Catrina: “Am I not your heart’s desire?” Gareth: “You are my heart’s desire.” Catrina: “Then seal it, Gareth. Seal it with a kiss.” Gareth: “Yes. A kiss.” (When they kiss, the enchantment is complete.) Camelot. Past. Council Chamber. (Morgana stands before Uther while Arthur watches on.) Uther: “All this time, you’ve been hiding the boy in my own palace. How could you betray me like this?” Morgana: “I would not see him executed. I did what I thought was right.” Uther: “You think it’s right to conspire with my enemies against me?” Morgana: “How can this child be your enemy? He’s just a boy.” Uther: “He is a Druid.” Morgana: “Is that such a crime?” Uther: “His kind would see me dead and this kingdom returned to anarchy and you would help them.” Morgana: “Then punish me… but spare the boy. I beg you.” Uther: (To Arthur:) “Make arrangements for the boy to be executed tomorrow morning.” Morgana: “No! Please. He’s done nothing.” Uther: “Let this be a lesson to you.” Morgana: “You don’t have to do this.” Uther: (To Arthur:) “Do you hear me? I want him executed at dawn.” Arthur: “Yes, My Lord.” Morgana: “What have these people done to you? Why are you so full of hate?” (Morgana marches towards Uther and grabs his arm. Uther grabs her throat and presses her against a chair back.) Uther: “Enough! I will not hear another word! Do not speak to me until you are ready to apologise for what you’ve done.” (Uther leaves, Arthur follows him.)

That Night. Morgana’s Chambers. (A thunderstorm rages. Morgana stirs restlessly in her sleep and magically lights a candle by her bed.) Guinevere: (Entering the room:) “I brought you some extra blankets, I thought you might be cold… (Guinevere sees the lighted candle and blows it out, taking it over to the window. Morgana eyes flicker and magically she lights candle in her sleep again. Guinevere gasps, waking Morgana who’s eyes glow golden which causes the flame to burn higher, burning her curtains:) Morgana! Morgana, stop!” (Morgana screams, shattering the glass from her windows.) Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. Present. (Regina sits reading in the living room when she hears Emma call out to her.) Emma: "Regina?" Regina: "In here. Did Maria go down okay?" Emma: "Of course, I'm the law in this town, so what Mama wants, Mama gets." (Glancing up from her book, Regina looks to see Emma stood leaning against the door frame. Wearing only a white bathrobe and with her hair done in a familiar fashion, Emma enjoys the smile that crosses her wife's face.) Regina: "Ooh, Mama like." Emma: (Smiles, walks further into the room:) "I thought a little role-reversal was called for. (Twirls the bathrobe tie in her hand:) So can Roni come out and play?" Regina: (Slamming the book closed:) "I think that can be arranged." Emma: (Winks:) "Then follow me." (Regina promptly stands and follows her wife. When Emma doesn't head for the stairs however, Regina stops.) Regina: "Where are you going?" Emma: (Continues walking:) "Well it's not quite Greased Lightning, but I think your Mercedes will be cosy enough. (Emma reaches the door to the garage across the hall. Looks over her shoulder:) Coming?"

Regina: (Smirks:) "Do you want me to fetch my leather jacket?" Emma: "Oh no, I don't think that'll be necessary. After all... (Emma unties her robe and lets it drop to the floor at her feet:) You're already wearing far too much." (Without another word, Emma opens the door and enters the garage. Not needing to be asked twice, Regina kicks off her shoes and follows Emma into the garage, discarding her clothes as quickly as possible.) Camelot. Past. Morgana's Chambers. (Guinevere sits with Morgana, rocking her in her arms.) Morgana: "I’m scared, Guin. I don’t understand anything anymore." Guinevere: "You can trust me, Morgana. You know you can." Morgana: "It's magic, Guin." Guinevere: "Shh. You need your rest." Morgana: "You think it's magic too. (Pulling away to look at her:) Please, Guin, I just need to hear you say it."   Guinevere: (Strokes Morgana's face:) "I understand. I realise how frightening all this must be for you. Especially for you." Morgana: "Why especially for me?" Guinevere: "You’re the King’s daughter. You know his hatred of magic better than anyone." Morgana: "So you do think it was magic?" Guinevere: “I’m not saying that.” Morgana: “But it could be, couldn’t it?” Guinevere: “I really wouldn’t know, but there are people who do.” Morgana: “Who?” Guinevere: “What about the Druids? They help people like you.” Morgana: “None of their kind would dare show their face in Camelot.” Guinevere: “No. But I know where you can find them. You must go tonight with Arthur when he takes the druid boy out of the castle.” Morgana: “Arthur? He’s the one who turned me in.” Guinevere: “Yes and he regrets it. Arthur doesn’t wish to see the boy executed any more than we do.” Morgana: “And you trust him?” Guinevere: “Yes, I do.” Morgana: “But how would I leave the castle? My father-” Guinevere: “We must use what happened here tonight to our advantage. For the boy’s sake, and yours.” Labyrinth of Gedref. Present. (While Merida continues to navigate the labyrinth, Mulan meets Anhora.) Mulan: "You said Merida would face a test. And here you are, preparing a trap for her." Anhora: "The trap isn’t for Merida. It is for you. Gehæftan." (As a result of Anhora's spell, Mulan is wrapped in vines from the labyrinth walls.) Labyrinth of Gedref. Exit. (Merida runs through the labyrinth and finds the exit leading to the sea. Mulan is sitting at a table on the shore, Anhora standing nearby.) Merida: “Mulan?” Mulan: “I’m sorry.” Merida: “Let her go. I’ll take your test, but not till she’s released.” Anhora: “That is not possible. Mulan is part of the test. Please sit. (Merida doesn’t move:) If you refuse the test, you will have failed and Dun Broch will be destroyed.” Merida: (Sighs, taking a seat opposite Mulan:) “I thought I told you to stay away. (To Anhora:) Let’s get on with it.” Anhora: “There are two goblets before you. One of the goblets contains a deadly poison, the other goblet, a harmless liquid. All the liquid from both goblets must be drunk, but each of you may only drink from a single goblet.” Merida: “What kind of ridiculous test is that? What does that prove?” Anhora: “What it proves is for you to decide. If you pass the test, the curse will be lifted.” Mulan: “Let’s think about this. What if I drink from my goblet first?” Merida “If it’s poisoned, you’ll die.” Mulan: “And if it’s not, then you’ll have to drink from yours, and you’ll die. There must be a way around it.” Merida: “Well obviously one of us has to die. We have to find a way to determine which goblet has the poison. And then I’ll drink it.” Mulan: “I will be the one to drink it.” Merida: “This is my responsibility. I’m drinking it.” Mulan: “It is more important that you live. You’re the Queen.” Merida: “You’re already a hero, Mulan. There’s no need for you to be a martyr.” Mulan: (Sigh:) “What if I drink from mine first, and if that’s not poisoned, I will then drink yours?” Merida: “He said each of us is only allowed to drink from a single goblet. I had no idea you were so keen to die for me.” Mulan: “Trust me, I can hardly believe it myself.” Merida: (Snort:) “I’m glad you are here, Mulan.” Mulan: “I’ve got it. Right, we pour all the liquid into one goblet and then we can be sure it is poisoned. Then all the liquid can be drunk, and it will be from a single goblet.” Merida: “Brilliant. Look out!” (Merida points and Mulan looks. Merida takes the two goblets and pours all of the liquid into one of them, holding it to drink.) Mulan: “No! I will drink it!” Merida: “As if I’d let you.” Mulan: “You can’t die. This isn’t your destiny.” (Merida toasts Mulan then drinks it.) Mulan: “No! What have you done? (Merida falls off the chair, unconscious:) Merida! No! (Mulan tries to shake Merida awake:) Merida. Merida. Come on! Merida, come on. Come on. Come on! (Mulan turns to Anhora:) Please. Please! Just… let me take her place!” Anhora: “This was Merida’s test, not yours.” Mulan: “You’ve killed her!" Anhora: “She is not dead. She’s merely consumed a sleeping draught.” Mulan: “What?” Anhora: “I believe you have some experience with the poppy flower? (Mulan nods:) She will come round shortly.” Mulan: “I don’t understand?” Anhora: “A unicorn is pure of heart. If you kill one, you must make amends by proving that you also are pure of heart. Merida was willing to sacrifice her life to save yours. She has proven what is truly in her heart. The curse will be lifted.” (Mulan kneels down to check on Merida to find her breathing laboured. Concerned, Mulan picks up the goblet and inspects it.) Mulan: “This was not made with the poppy flower!” (Mulan reaches into the goblet and pulls out a petal.) Anhora: “That’s not possible, I poured the goblets myself earlier today.” Mulan: “Did you leave them unattended? (Anhora considers, then nods:) Then your test was sabotaged and that means that Merida really has been poisoned!”

[rumyarabella]

Digimon Roll La llegada de Lekiam (the Lekiam's arrival)

Yggdrasil, el host principal del Mundo Digital, para algunos considerado como un dios y para otros como no más que una computadora sin sentimientos.  Puesto que fue corrompido,mando a los royal Knight a eliminar la vida de los digimon, siendo estos también absorbidos por la oscuridad. Dando paso a evoluciones malignas y conducidas por la ira 

En el mismo caso tenemos a homeostasis un ser creado para suplir la función de Yggdrasil cuando este fue corrompido, manteniéndose en un estado de guerra causando un desequilibrio en el mundo digital.

Pronto este mundo llegara a su fin -  Una imponente figura oculta entre las sombras soltó una sádica sonrisa mientras miraba hacia una celda, de la cual solo se lograba ver una especie de ojos rojos - pronto llegara la hora de comer... 

Homeostasis  decidió jugar una de sus mejores cartas, pero al mismo tiempo una de las más peligrosas, la misma que llevó al anterior mundo a su destrucción, un arma de doble filo... traer humanos. Una acción desesperada para un mundo en el cual ni siquiera existían los Royal Knight. Pero tenía fe que con ellos se restablecerá la paz... O no? 

Mando Digivces  al mundo humano seleccionando a los más dignos 

(aqui comienzan las acciones de los participantes y las respuestas del rol masteer, recuerden que solo se borran los dados, y las estadisticas de daño, para escribirlo a modo fanfic, pero eso no significa que sea uno.)

Día normal en el dojo Kempachi. Un  joven de 15 años practicando debotamente como todos los días el kendo que le fue heredado por sus padres (que están de vacaciones en el extranjero) cuando un extraño y peculiar reflejo de una luz brillante le precuto la cara a nuestro heroe solitario

- ahh mis ojos. Que es esto en el suelo, no es un celular!?, que es esto? - didijo un lekiam confundido

Cuando de repente suena y ve que la pantalla del extraño objeto dice su nombre completo

- esto debe ser una broma

Luego lo suelta en el tatami dándose así un golpe aquel objeto  contra el mismo..! Y justo en ese intate! Una luz brillante lo sego y lo envolvio y lo siguiente que vio un montón de luces extrañas A su al rededor mientras el sentia que caía  e impactaba con un piso de tierra

ahh! Pero que en donde estoy  - dijo lekiam al abrir los ojos

Y luego su cara es impactada por aquel objeto (por que le cae en la cara)

Apenas se encontró al primer elegido fue trasladado a una pequeña isla cerca de las Isla de los dioses, donde la corrupción de yggdrasil aun no habia llegado pero aun así había peligro por doquier... 

Apenas cayó en la isla su digivice empezó a  sonar, esto solo era una advertencia de que su compañero de aventuras estaba cerca por no decir que al momento le cayó encima al chico aún aturdido

ahh que demonios ahora eto no se calla. Ya para!! Que quieres de mi? Cosa ruidosa? - el chico empezo a agitar el objeto y darle leves golpes a ver si asi se callaba

Cuchutoplun!!!

 - aaaaahhh  que es esto que demonios Una cucaracha super desarollada

- no soy eso que dices que soy digimon mal vestido!!! - respondio el digimon que le cayo encima

- como  me digiste!!. Y por que sigues ensima  de mi QUÍTATE ANIMALEJO - le contesto el chico

- uy lo siento es que eres cómodo jaja - se quita de encima

- que!! Insima te burlas enano! - el chico se le queda viendo un instante para luego soltar - oye un momento como es que tu HABLAS AAHH ODIOS UNA MARIQITA MUTANTE AAAHHH

- mariquita mutante? Que no se será eso pero no suena bien 

- ok ya me calme quien oque eres amigo hoctopodo?

- yo soy tentomon hola buenas tardes señor!

(Los compañeros digimon son elegidos a traves de un test que la mayoria ya debe conocer, si no me escriben y se los puedo pasar con mucho gusto)

Yggdrasil, the main host of the Digital World, for some considered as a god and for others as no more than a computer without feelings. Since he was corrupted, he sent the royal knights to eliminate the digimon's life, being also absorbed by the darkness. Giving way to evil and anger-driven evolutions In the same case we have to homeostasis a being created to replace the function of Yggdrasil when it was corrupted, remaining in a state of war causing an imbalance in the digital world. Soon this world will come to an end - An imposing figure hidden in the shadows let out a sadistic smile as he looked towards a cell, from which only a kind of red eyes could be seen - soon it was time to eat ... Homeostasis decided to play one of his best cards, but at the same time one of the most dangerous, the same one that led the previous world to its destruction, a double-edged sword ... bringing humans. A desperate action for a world in which even the Royal Knight did not exist. But I had faith that with them peace will be restored ... Or not? I send Digivces to the human world selecting the most worthy

(Here the actions of the participants and the responses of the masteer role begin, remember that only the dice are erased, and the damage statistics, to write it as a fanfic, but that does not mean that it is one.)

Normal day at the Kempachi dojo. A young man of 15 years practicing debotily like every day the kendo that was inherited by his parents (who are on vacation abroad) when a strange and peculiar reflection of a bright light asked the face of our lonely hero

- ahh my eyes. What is this on the floor, is not a cell phone!?, What is this? - Said a confused lekiam

When suddenly it rings and you see that the strange object's screen says its full name

- this has to be a joke

Then he releases it on the tatami thus hitting that object against it ..! And right in that intate! A bright light seized him and enveloped him and the next thing he saw a lot of strange lights all around him as he felt himself falling and hitting a dirt floor

ahh! But where am I - Lekiam said when he opened his eyes

And then his face is hit by that object (because it falls on his face)

As soon as the first chosen was found, he was transferred to a small island near the Isle of the Gods, where the corruption of Yggdrasil had not yet arrived but still there was danger everywhere ...

As soon as he fell on the island his digivice began to sound, this was only a warning that his adventure partner was close, not to say that at the moment the still stunned boy fell on him

ahh what the hell now this is not silent. Stop now!! What do you want of me? Noisy thing? - The boy began to shake the object and give it light blows to see if it was quiet

Cuchutoplun !!!

- aaaaahhh what is this what the hell A super developed cockroach

- I am not that you say that I am digimon badly dressed !!! - Answered the digimon that fell on him

- As you told me !!. And why are you still on top of me? REMOVE ANIMALEJO - the boy answered him

- oops, I'm sorry you're comfortable haha ​​- get off me

- than!! Insima you mock dwarf! - the boy stares at him for a moment and then lets go - hears a moment how is it that you SPEAK AAHH I HATE A MUTANT LADYBUG AAAHHH

- mutant ladybug? That won't be, but it doesn't sound good

- Okay, calm down, who is a hoctopod friend?

- I'm tentomon hello good afternoon sir!

(The digimon companions are chosen through a test that most of them must already know, if they don't write to me and I can pass them with pleasure)

[clumsydarknut]

The Spirit of the Hero - Chapter 2

My take on the AU by Jojo over at @linkeduniverse . Things start getting more complex. Pretty hard to keep track of which Links have come across which things in their adventures, but heck, researching the canon is the best part of Zelda amiright? *hacks up a lung* Ugh, sorry, them old manuals are pretty dusty. Anyway. Enjoy.

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               A knock at the door and a shout of “Breakfast!” startled Link awake. Though he had only a few hours of sleep, he felt well rested and alert. His roommate, however, did not seem so.

               “I don’t remember asking for a wakeup call…” he grumbled. “Do you s’pose there will still be food in an hour or so?”

               “Not hot food, to be sure,” Link chuckled. The young man groaned again. Link pushed back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for his boots. “By the way, thanks for not killing me in the night and running off with my wallet.”

               The stranger belted a muffled laugh into his bedding. “No problem. I also appreciate not being dead.” With a grunt the boy pushed himself to his seat and swung his legs over the bed. Link almost laughed when he saw his toes barely reached the floor. The boy shoved on his boots and pulled his tunic over his head. Link had already donned his own tunic and his gauntlets were already laced, but he hesitated to leave without the stranger. An awkward sort of familiarity kept him wanting the company, despite not knowing him. Perhaps it was simply that they were similar in age, or that they had arrived at the same time, but regardless of the real reason Link thought it best he appear to be traveling with a group rather than alone. Better deterrent against unsavory folk, he thought.

               The stranger finished strapping his sword to his back and followed Link out the door into the narrow hallway. The heavy scent of pumpkin soup wafted up the stairs along with soft music and the mumble of conversation. As they descended into the common area Link also picked up hints of seared venison and fresh bread. Quite the inn for 30 rupees a night. The commons were already filled with people, though most were grouped together. Probably the party that got stranded.

               “Ah, good morning masters!” the innkeeper greeted with a smile. “Hope the beds were satisfact’ry? Take a seat an’ one o’ the girls will ‘ave breakfast to you shortly. Mind you we’ll still needs to be discussing payment ‘fore you leave, so don’t go sneakin’ off!”

               The innkeeper laughed and continued on with her work. Link and the young man made their way across the room to an empty table just out of earshot of the large party. Sure enough, food was brought almost the instant they sat down. Neither spoke as they ate, ravenously inhaling the deliciously fresh meal. Link hadn’t realized how hungry he was until creamy pumpkin soup slid its way into his empty stomach.

               “Wow,” the stranger mumbled through a mouthful, “I haven’t had venison in such a long time.”

               Link raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were hunting when you got lost, same as me.”

               The boy blinked several times and swallowed hard. “I, um… mostly hunt small game, you know?” He chuckled nervously. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not very large. Doubt I could haul a decent buck back home by myself.”

               Link laughed. “I suppose that’s true.” They ate in silence again until little more than crusts of bread remained.

               “Well,” Link began again, clearing his throat, “Do you think they have a map?”

               “Probably, let’s see.” The stranger flagged down one of the serving girls.

               “Yes, sir, though we only have one,” she replied sheepishly. She pointed to a table in the far corner. “The master over there is using it now.”

               Link waved the girl off with a thank you and took a good look at the man seated with the map. Though cloaked, it was easy to tell he was a force to be reckoned with. He looked to be in his early thirties and likely nearing six feet tall, with heavyset shoulders and hands rough from labor. He wore leather gauntlets plated with gold armor, and the lay of his cloak told Link he had a full suit to match. Despite his hood being drawn closely, bright yellow hair peeked out from the darkness and framed a sharp, angular face. Leaning against the back of the man’s chair was an incredibly large claymore.

               “We probably shouldn’t bother him,” the young man said. Link nodded in agreement. “Where are you headed anyway?” he continued.

               “That depends on where I’m at,” Link replied. “Though likely I’ll be headed to Castle Town.” He omitted the fact that he’d be going there for the castle more than the town. “Yourself?”

               “Seems like the more we talk the more we have in common,” the stranger smiled. “You’re not my double now are you?”

               Link chuckled. “If I were some kind of magical doppelganger, wouldn’t my hair at least be the same color?”

               “True, true,” the boy laughed. He made a quick glance around the room. “Seeing as neither of us has killed the other yet, may I ask your name?”

               Link opened his mouth to answer when the bang of the door and a shriek from a serving girl interrupted. Both of them reached for their weapons.

               “My goodness lad, what’s happened?” the innkeeper gasped.

               “Nothing, ma’am, I’m fine.” A young man wearing a tattered cloak and leaning on a cracked sword hobbled further into the commons. “I’m only in need of a map, is there one I can use?”

               “Fine is not the word I would choose!” the woman sputtered. “Dear, you’re covered in blood! Take a seat an’ le’ me take a look atcha.”

               The young man pulled back his hood in exasperation, revealing long sandy hair tied back in a loose ponytail and what Link could only describe as the bloodiest minor head injury he had ever seen. Clearly only a scrape, the forehead wound gushed profusely down the boy’s frustrated face. Link was tempted to laugh at the innkeeper fretting until he saw the gash in the man’s side and the bloodied state of his sky blue tunic.

               “Ma’am, I just had a run-in with a moblin or two. I’m fine. May I please see a map?” The innkeeper’s jaw dropped open for a moment before closing with a harrumph. She pointed to the man in the corner, who hadn’t looked up, and the young man dashed across the room as quickly as his limp would let him. As soon as his back was turned the innkeeper called over her girls and disappeared into the back room.

               Link looked back at his roommate and gestured to the map table. The young man shrugged, and they both stood.

               “You really should have that seen to,” they heard the older man say as they approached.

               “Just a scratch,” the younger replied, “I’ve seen worse.”

               “Doesn’t change the fact that you should have that seen to,” the man repeated. He looked up at the two approaching boys. “Do you two need the map as well? I’m happy to share my table.”

               Link gave a start at seeing the man’s face clearly. On his right cheek were two thin, blood red stripes, and on his forehead an outline of a sword point in dark blue. Most shocking, however, was the thick, deep scar over the man’s right eye. Despite his grizzled face, his one blue eye showed soft kindness. Link shook off the surprise and took a seat with a thank you.

               “Ah, of course, the map is already crowded.” A new voice approached the table. “Good God, man, what happened to you?”

               The owner of the voice was dressed in a layered tunic of crimson and green, and looked to be a few years older than Link. His knee-high leather boots boasted weathered metallic wings and inlaid patterns of wind. His smug but shocked expression was framed by poofy dark blonde hair. Link could have sworn he saw strands that were tinted pink. Atop his head sat a long blue hat that tapered to a point near his mid back. That took Link aback. Had he not been sure this man was a total stranger, he could have sworn that hat was once his own.

               “I’m fine,” the bloodied boy hissed.

               “Like hell you are,” the man scoffed, “You’re bleeding out.”

               “Bleedin’ out all over my dining hall.” The innkeeper reappeared with a crew of girls carrying towels and bandages. “If ya won’t take proper treatment at least le’ me stop ya from ruinin’ my only map.”

               “I don’t have time for this,” the boy shouted, weakly pushing off the serving girls. “I have to get to the castle. I can’t stop to take care of… something… so… minor…” Link’s eyes boggled as the pale traveler wobbled and collapsed. The innkeeper yelped and the newcomer lunged forward to catch him, lowering him gently to the floor.

               “Whoa there,” he cringed, “He’s out cold. Anyone have a red potion?”

               “I have one in my room,” Link and his roommate chimed in unison. They both exchanged odd glances.

               “No need.” The older man knelt down next to the fallen boy and removed a bottle from his pouch. Popping the lid off, a glowing pink fairy floated daintily out of the container. With a whirl and a glimmer, the young man’s gashes knit back together and color came back to his face.

               The stranger in red gave a whistle. “Wow, old man, where’d you find one of those?”

               “I travel,” he replied, stowing the bottle again. “Fairies are a handy friend to have, though they only come out if friendship is your true intention.” The stranger gave a thoughtful squint.

               The boy in blue inhaled sharply and let out a hefty cough. The innkeeper squeaked in surprise, putting a hand to her chest. Composing herself, she cleared her throat. “I s’pose that means my girls can go back to work, then?”

               “He should be fine, ma’am,” the grizzled man put in. The woman nodded blankly, then returned to the kitchens shaking her head and mumbling something about unwanted surprises.

               “Ugh…” the collapsed boy groaned, “What…? Where…?”

               “Still at the inn,” the red-clad man grimaced, “Passed out and just about died. Lucky some of us have the sense to carry healing items. What are you doing wandering around with half your spleen hanging out?”

               The boy shook his head and shakily got to his feet. “It’s none of your concern, but it is very important that I get where I’m going.” The man was about to protest further when a gilded gauntlet cut him off.

               “The map is right here,” the older man said calmly. “It would appear all five of us are a bit lost, am I correct? Last I checked it was possible for strangers to share a table without invading each other’s privacy.” The group exchanged looks. “Take a seat, young masters.”

               The high energy in the tavern dwindled back to a hum as the group settled awkwardly around the map. The older man seemed to ignore the tension of distrust at the table and took up describing their current location – a town called Beaverville on the road between two other towns Link hadn’t heard of. Just as he had guessed, the town was deep in the Great North Forest, but the more he looked at the map, the less sure of where he was. How old is this map? He noted familiar landmarks such as Death Mountain and Spectacle Rock, but most were not positioned quite how he had remembered and fewer still bore names that sparked his memory. Caution prompted him to pretend he recognized the place. It would be strange if a hunter presumably lost in this forest had never heard of the nearby towns.

               “From how I understand it,” the older man continued, “Anyone looking to go further south should head west to Lehara, which seems to be a hub of sorts. Anyone looking to head into the mountains would be better served by Pocatai to the northeast.”

               The boy in blue stood abruptly. “Then I guess west it is. Thank you for the assistance.”

               “Wait,” cut in the man in red, “I am also headed west. Care for a traveling companion? Better to start out together than for me to find you dead on the road later.”

               The boy looked irritated, but had no chance to respond before the shortest of them chimed in.

               “I and my fellow are also headed west, to Castle Town,” he said, adjusting his green headband. Link nodded in confirmation.

               “To Castle Town?” the young man remarked. “Strange, that is also my destination.”

               The four of them turned to look at their grizzled senior.

               “Well,” he half-laughed, “I suppose we’re all headed the same way.” His face turned a shade darker. “Strange, though. Five strangers all lost so far from home.”

               Anxious glances were passed around the table. It was true. The castle was easily two week’s travel by horse. It was clear none of them were simply lost hunters. Link fingered his sword, waiting for someone to speak.

               “Funny how quickly trust can be shattered,” the man in red coughed. “Even so, we’re all on the same path. May as well stick together.

               The shortest boy tugged on his tunic belt and nodded. “Safety in numbers.”

               The boy in blue shifted from foot to foot before agreeing. “I guess I could spare an hour to gather supplies.”

               “I doubt we’ll even need that long,” Link put in. “I can leave at any time.”

               “As can I,” the older man added.

               “Me too,” Link’s fellow concurred.

               “Not me.” The man adjusted his red tunic and glanced over at the innkeeper. “I haven’t eaten yet. It’s not often I get to enjoy a home-cooked meal. Perhaps we reconvene in, say, half an hour?”

               The group agreed and left to prepare for departure. Link found the innkeeper and paid her his due before heading up to his room. He did his best to mask his anxiety; the boy in blue was not the only one with a need for haste. If the headbanded boy also required urgency, he gave no sign, buckling every belt and bag with relaxed surety. The two equipped the rest of their gear in a silence more intense than that of the night before. I suppose questioned trust is more frightening than trust not had. He was glad the injured boy had interrupted their conversation before he had given his name.

               Link returned to the commons, his roommate following cautiously, to find the innkeeper hassling the boy in blue while the man in red snickered profusely.

               “I don’t give a clucking cucco abou’ no fairy magic,” she insisted, trying to force a bowl of soup into his hands, “No potion or spell will do ya any good on an empty stomach!”

               “Ma’am, please, I am fine.”

               “If it’s payin’ me you’re worried abou’ you can stop yer frettin’, this is on the house.”

               “Could I pay you not to give me food?”

               “You suggestin’ I’d accept money in exchange fer lettin’ a man kill himself? There aren’t enough rupees in all Hyrule for that!”

               “You haven’t seen my wallet yet.”

               Link chuckled but sat next to his fellow solemnly. Either that one’s incredibly skilled with a blade, or incredibly naïve. Several members of the stranded party had begun eavesdropping at the talk of rupees. I hope that doesn’t bring us trouble later on.

               The boy in blue took the seat next to Link with a grumble, nearly splashing pumpkin soup out of the bowl as he slammed it on the table. Link took the opportunity to study his new companion further.

               He had cleaned up a bit – or more likely forcibly been cleaned. Blood no longer stained his face and his hair was less tangled, but surprisingly he almost looked worse off. A spiderweb of pinkish scars laced its way down the left side of his face and neck, tainting what would have been beautifully fair skin. The skin of a noble. The tunic seemed to match that observation. Though stained and bearing a massive tear in the side, the fine cotton was durable and embroidered with unnaturally bright silver thread. Down the center of the garment Link could pick out the pattern of a sword beneath the many belts strapping weapons to the man’s back. The weapons didn’t seem to fit the noble appearance, however. The sword bore no sheath, the shield no grips, and the bow had certainly seen better days.

               One thing in particular baffled Link. Strapped next to the stranger’s obviously bulging wallet was a rectangle made of a material he could not place. The tablet was a deep brown with a handle cut into the top, and across it in luminescent orange and blue was inlaid the pattern of an eye – a deep, wide, piercing eye, calling to the back of Link’s mind for a spark of recognition that didn’t want to ignite.

               “You like this, do you?” Link nearly flinched at the sudden interruption to his thoughts as the long-haired boy pulled the tablet from his belt. Guess I wasn’t being as discreet as I thought.

               “It’s intriguing,” Link said, “I don’t think I’ve seen that material before.”

               “I’m not sure what it’s made of either,” the boy puzzled, “It’s quite handy, though. I-“

               “I wouldn’t discuss that in the open, if I were you,” the man in red hissed across the table. He tilted his head in the direction of the other party.

               The boy glanced over and then replaced the slate on his belt. “What do you know of it?”

               The man crossed his arms over his chest. “Nothing, never seen it before. I just know what a group of thieves look like when they’re tempted by a mark. If we’re going to travel together I’d rather not be bothered by bandits, especially when I’m not their target.”

               “Agreed,” the headbanded boy breathed.

               Almost as if on cue, the oldest of the five arrived at the table. “Good, we’re all here. Prepared to leave, I presume?”

               “As long as Mr. Reckless here doesn’t have any other valuables he wants to broadcast,” the man in red growled, “we should be all set.”

               “It was your idea to travel together,” the boy muttered as they stood.

               Link sighed. This was going to be a long walk.

[bbclesmis]

Dominic West: I feel I’m in the summer of my life – it can’t last forever

The acting livewire talks being lazy as a teenager, worrying about the time he has left and his years at Eton January 1, 2019

At 16 my main preoccupation was with getting drunk. Oh yeah, and I played Hamlet in the school play. So I was quite focused on that, and the rest of the time I was trying to get illegal drinks in pubs.

Did I have a privileged upbringing? Well, I grew up near the moors, just outside Sheffield, with six brothers and sisters.

We had a couple of dogs and various other pets, hamsters and fish and all that crap. I spent most of my time on my bike running up and down the road. We were quite self-sufficient because there were so many brothers and sisters. We did have friends but I don’t remember leaving the house much because I just played with my siblings.

So yes, it was a privileged childhood, spending all that time on the moors with my big raucous family.

I have five sisters so even though I was going to an all-boys’ school, I didn’t have any fear of the opposite sex. Maybe by 16 I was starting to miss having girls around me at school, but we did have quite a lot of girlfriends coming down to visit us all so… Actually, I didn’t really have any girlfriends, I just wished I had. I had crushes that were unrequited. But when I was about 17 I started getting involved in plays, and going to the Edinburgh Festival, and then it all kicked off.

In 2002 with Idris Elba, his fellow cast member in cult US drama 'The Wire'. Photo: C Contino/BEI/Shutterstock

I think as a teenager I was closer to my mum. I got to know my dad much better in my twenties and I had a lovely time with him after they got divorced actually. So I ended up pretty close to both. I have traits from both of them. My mum was quite romantic and I’m also quite romantic in my ideas about things like Ireland and music and poetry. I’m quite a softie in that way. And I have romantic ideas about childhood and the simple life and living in the country.

From my dad, I think I get my sense of humour; he was a very funny guy. And also my fairly Victorian idea of fatherhood. I’m pretty strict. I heavily limit my kids’ screen time. I insist they’re in bed on time – mainly because we have five kids and I’m always knackered, so I get them out the way before we can start the drinking. But I’m also very affectionate with them.

What I got out of Eton was that they identified what I was good at – acting – and they gave me the facilities and opportunities to pursue that. I was incredibly lucky to go to a school that could do that. It’s true that Eton also gives people confidence but that’s a double-edged sword. Often that confidence is misplaced. As is those people’s assumption that they’re the best people to run things. That’s quite annoying and often quite offensive to people.

Of everything I’ve done I think the teenage Dominic would be most impressed by The Wire. He’d be amazed that I actually managed to get into it. My mum loved theatre and couldn’t understand why I’d ever want to do anything else. She came to see everything I did in the theatre and used to say, why on earth are you doing American TV, what a complete waste of time. I think because her mother-in-law was American she didn’t like America very much.

The teenage me would also not have expected to have five kids. And I certainly didn’t think one of my kids would get a trial for Southampton FC. He’s only 10, it’s just for the academy, but I was so bad at football I couldn’t have imagined that.

When I look back at my life I might say to my younger self, don’t be so lazy. Be bolder, shoot for the stars. I don’t know if it was through self-doubt or fear or just laziness but I feel I rather took the easy option a lot. In terms of work, and taking my job and – it sounds pretentious – but taking my talent seriously. I let other people make decisions for me.

I wish I hadn’t always gone for the job my agent wanted me to take, or the industry were guiding me into, which was often work that wasn’t that interesting. What I wanted to do in my earlier twenties was experimental and radical theatre, but I didn’t do it because I went off and got high instead. And maybe I did a bit too much partying and I should have… actually no, I loved partying, fuck it.

There was a wonderful woman in my life called Kay Eaton who very much looked after me when I was ill as a young child. She was my great granddad’s secretary and she helped me a lot. We had this joke that we were girlfriend and boyfriend – I was four years old.

She never married. I really regret not being with her when she was dying. I was on a job away, and I think she didn’t have a very nice death in a home in Sheffield. I wish I’d got to her and thanked her. She brought me great comfort when I was ill and I wish I’d been able to do the same for her when she was dying.

I’ve just turned 49 and I’ve thought a lot about the time that’s left. In terms of my career I do regret not doing all the great Shakespeare roles when I was young. Because I do love Shakespeare. But I don’t feel guilty about much, I’ve done my best in the way I’ve treated people. God, this sounds like I’m just about to die!

I don’t know… I’ve always been a bit frightened of death. I suppose what I’m really frightened of, apart from the moment of death and the actual condition you’re in when you die, is the worry that I didn’t do as much as I might have. But really, it’s all about my kids. I’m very conscious right now that I’m at the stage when it’s my last chance to be a big thing in their lives. So I’m taking a lot of next year off to do that. And actually, when I think about it… I couldn’t really give a rat’s arse about my work.

I’ve never been so happy in my life as I have been in the last 10 years. And it just seems to get better and better, because my kids and I are at a time when we give each other great joy.

Last Christmas we went to see the giant trees in South California. I remember the whole day, from getting everyone out of the RV and walking up to the wood.  There weren’t many people around and the mist was lifting in the forest and the sun was coming up and we were in the presence of these astonishing 3,000-year-old giants.  And I did get a sense of immense happiness and peace.

I have a strong sense of wishing my time would slow down so it could just be like this for a bit longer. I don’t have a great foreboding about the future, but I do feel I’m in the summer of my life. And it can’t last forever.

Dominic West stars in Colette, in UK cinemas from January 11 and Les Miserables, on BBC One from 9pm on December 30

[princessjaqulinechess1031]

Forever and Always

Pairings: Ravey, Jatherine

Characters: Davey, Race, Katherine

Description: King David is marrying Princess Katherine. But he loves instead a stable boy.

David had known since was ten years old that he was in love with Racetrack Higgins.

David had been wandering around the royal stables, when out from between the horses popped a boy barely younger than him with bright eyes and a smile, hair curly beneath his make-shift hat. David had smiled at the boy and the boy had smiled back. The boy said his name was Racetrack — because he loved watching the horses race each other.

And that was the start of ten years. Ten years David knew he would cherish forever.

At first they had been so young, all of it had been was a sweet friendship between two young boys. But as time wore on, things shifted. David began getting nervous feelings in his stomach when he was around Race. His face would get red when he caught Race’s eye by accident. He wanted to hold Race’s hand and be close to him, to see him smile and make him feel better when he cried.

He realized this was because he loved Race when David was fourteen and Race was thirteen. They had been talking in a secluded, hidden room in the royal barn, when suddenly Race had leaned forward to kiss David. And not in a way that could be mistaken as simply good friends, but in a way that made Davey feel excited in his stomach. Race kissed him softly and then Davey had known.

Race was the love of his life.

This began the nights hidden away in the forest or the barn. Nights where sweet nothings were exchanged in the barest of whispers, kisses rarely ever thought about. They had to stay vigilant. If they were ever found, David feared the consequences. David was the heir, next in line to be king. His parents would find a way to shush any rumors it might bring. David’s actions would be rumored, yes, most likely he’d even be passed over in favor of his brother Les. But all things considered, with his parent’s influence and power, he’d be fine. Hidden, but fine.

Race, however, had everything to loose. He would be imprisoned, sent away, beaten, and possibly even killed if anyone find out he was the boy that tried to woe the future king. David couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen. So David tried to stop it, pass it off to Race as something they would stop because the cost was too great. The consequences too dire.

Every once in a while though, Race would convince him one more night would be fine. One night just sitting under a tree, just two friends talking if they were found. And every time, David would be swept up by the other boy’s charm and almost stupidly optimistic courage. Race was fearless, and though David loved that about him, it was a double edged sword. A sword that may come for Race’s head one day.

The breaking point was when David was eighteen. That was when the shipwreck happened. When David’s parents and siblings disappeared into sea-foam and crashing waves, never to be seen again. When David was crowned king mere days after the announcement. When David could barely stand up straight, because all he wanted to do was cry on his knees. His family was dead. Gone. He was all that remained of his family’s line.

Mom. Dead by fifty, a woman David knew was the kindest and strongest to lead a country.

Dad. A king who was tough, but a father who was fair.

Les. His little brother. The pride and joy of his family. The little boy who once said David was his hero.

Sarah. His twin sister. The one who had came into the world before him. The one David always believed should be Queen. She had left before him, even though they promised to go everywhere together.

They were dead. And David just wanted to cry and scream and make it all go away.

Two days after the coronation, David found Race in his chambers. David had been stunned at first, to find Race there, sitting at the desk with a candle glowing softly with a comforting look. Before Race could even speak, Davey marched out of the room and told his guards that under no circumstances would anyone be allowed in his room tonight. In case of emergency, they were to knock first and enter after his express permission.

Then David re-entered, locked the door, and ran straight to Race, who stood to receive him. David buried his head deep in Race’s neck and just cried, cried for the family that was gone. For the future they would never get to have. Cried for the future he was now forced to live much earlier than he had expected.

At some point they moved from standing to his bed, where Race held David close to his chest as he continued to cry. Race had ran his hand softly thorough David’s dark locks, whispering to him that everything would be alright.

“Just cry, my dear David,” Race had whispered. “Everything will be alright Davey.”

For once David hadn’t cared. He hadn’t cared about the consequences of what this meant, of what being caught in Race’s arms would do. Of what that would do to Race, but also his kingdom’s prestige. If they were to know their King was in love with another man, the centuries of power they accumulated would be gone in a second.

David wondered if that made him selfish.

David realized he didn’t care about that either.

Late that night, long after the candle had burnt out and it was just the light of the moon through the window, David had dared to kiss Race. Race, at first was stiff, unsure what to do, or what this meant.

“Please, Anthony,” Davey, not David, had begged in a whisper, “one night. Make me forget for just one night.”

Race, for once, had been hesitant. Soft words and a quick peck on the lips deep in a forest where no one could see was one thing, and it was already quite dangerous. This, what Davey was proposing, was another matter entirely. After this, their would be going back. Nothing would ever be the same again.

But after a moment Race had relented, melting against Davey’s lips and pulling him closer as they buried themselves beneath Davey’s sheets. A hurried and hushed promise to remain quiet had quickly been shared against chapped and tired lips.

“One night,” the had promised. “One night to forget everything.”

Davey had thought he could never love Race more than he already did. But after they were done, and Race was asleep against Davey’s chest, Davey realized that everyday for the rest of his life he would grow to love Race more.

They weren’t found that night, but they knew better than to do it again. They were lucky no one found out this time. Perhaps next time they wouldn’t be so lucky.

A year passed and the somber mood of the kingdom seemed to be here to stay. Davey tried to change it, but nothing worked, until his advisor Albert mentioned the million dollar idea.

“A royal wedding.”

Davey had immediately known that was the only option. It would give the kingdom more economic stability and give the citizens a warm and fuzzy thing to cheer them up.

Breaking the news to Race had lead to a second night like the one in the days after his parent’s death. Race had wanted what Davey had— a night to forget. A night to believe it was just them. A night to forget that Davey had to get married to someone who’s name wasn’t Racetrack Higgins.

They were lucky this time too.

Katherine was, naturally, the perfect choice. Katherine was fourth in line for her own throne, and the alliance would do wonders for both their kingdoms. Davey was only passingly familiar with the auburn haired royal, they had met when they were young and throughout the years. She was kind all things considered and quite pretty. Davey dimly remembered he had nursed a small crush on her before Race had flipped his world around.

Katherine arrived, and Davey politely ignored the way Katherine’s ‘advisor’ Jack looked at Katherine. It was blatantly obvious to Davey that Katherine and Jack were engaged in a romantic affair. Davey didn’t blame her. This was an arranged marriage and he himself had long ago given his heart to Race.

The months before the wedding was a strange time. Katherine was quick to figure out that Davey was in love with someone else, and soon after the young girl also figured it out it was Race. Davey had immediately gone into defensive mode, telling Katherine that she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about and that she better tread lightly with such accusations.

But then Katherine had surprised him. Told Davey that she didn’t care if Davey was in love with someone else or if even Race and Davey had had secret rendezvous in the past. She said she would keep the secret, because she knew what it was like to be in love with someone else and forced to marry another. Though she admitted her affair would end in scandal, his in a loss of everything.

The wedding happened. It was a rather nice party, Davey would admit. The cake was nice and Katherine’s family arrived, and they were all so welcoming of Davey. Davey tried to enjoy himself, even if as the vows were read he imagined it was not Katherine but Race before him, gripping his hands, dressed in fine regalia as they announced to the world this union would last for all time.

But it wasn’t true. It was Katherine he married, Katherine he was bound to, and Katherine that was his wife.

His years with Katherine were great. From the union Davey had gained a very close friend. After Race, Katherine became his closest confidante. She helped rule the kingdom with confidence and grace. She was the Queen Davey needed — she helped keep his head on straight, she was a master at the political game, and she had a firm hand on economics. He was lucky this was the Queen he had gotten.

Though their friendship did have it’s bumps. Having to produce an heir with Katherine was the most awkward experience of Davey’s life, and he was sure Katherine’s too. But luckily the first time around they had been lucky— twins. An heir and a spare. No need for more.

One twin was a boy. One a girl. The girl was named Lucille, after Katherine’s departed sister.

Davey named the boy Anthony. Maybe it was out of spite or devotion to Race, Davey wasn’t sure. Maybe it was for the future historians who would look back on his life, and they would be forced to wonder why Davey had named his son that.

Maybe then they would figure out Race, who he was and how much Davey had loved him. In the distant days after they both were dead.

In the distant some day, where maybe Davey loving Race wouldn’t be an outcry. In a distant some day where maybe Davey could have married Race instead.

Because Race was Davey’s. Forever and always.

A/N:

This was so stupid, and I’m so sorry.

Hope y’all have a blessed day!

—PrincessChess

[owl-girl04]

Part Two of Leakira AU

Yay I actually continued something for once! Thank you all so much for such a positive response on Part One, which if you haven’t read is here! So if you want another chapter of this, let me know. I know there isn’t as much Leakira stuff in this bit but I couldn’t resist adding in a few other characters, who you may recognize. Wink wink nudge nudge. 

AND! I posted the first chapter on AO3, and I’ll get this one on there soon, so if you want to read on there: here’s the link. Alright, that’s all I have to say, so here you go, Part Two:

After a fast journey towards the Florencent province, Leandro directed the bike towards the east concentration camps. As they crested a hilled road, the camp was easy to spot. Leandro’s opinion, it seemed to radiate evil. Where the rest of the city was packed with skyscrapers and full of bustling life, this small portion was full of rubble. The tallest buildings were the flat prisons where the occupants were forced to spend most of their time and the rest of the plain was brown and desolate. Hignua soldiers were everywhere, and easily outnumbered the prisoners two to one.

“So, your friends are in there?” Leandro asked, breaking the silence that had begun to stretch uncomfortably between them.

“Why do you care?” Akira shot back, and began making his way down the road.

“Because they seem important to you!” Leandro shouted, trying to make himself heard as Akira continued on his way. All he got for his efforts was a disbelieving look.

“You don’t even know me.”

“But I want to!” Leandro called, trying one last time.

This time he was completely ignored, and in the blink of an eye, Akira was gone, his inky black hair blending into the darkness.

Akira was flustered, which was odd, because he couldn’t remember the last time his mind had been so disorganized. And right before his first big mission, of all things. He was so close to rescuing his friends. Layla and Rowan and Dante. All three of them had gone in undercover, to gain information on the Hignua plans for planet Direx. From what he had heard, it didn’t look good for the planet’s pulsing multicultural environment. Think, absolute destruction.

But right now it was up to him to get his friends out. Their position had been compromised earlier in the week and just thinking about the fact that they could be being tortured right that second made him walk faster. He had his sword out and ready, its telltale rebel markings faded away with the press of a concealed button on the handle. He didn’t know why he hadn’t pressed the button earlier with Leandro, why he had trusted him.

Finally, he made it to the edge of the prison camp, still using shadows for cover. He stood there counting the seconds between patrols and learning the rhythm, but his anxiousness made him rush, and he darted out of his hiding spot a moment too soon. The last patrol turned around quickly at the sound of his footsteps, immediately raising their guns.

“HALT, and give verification.”

The voice beneath the helmet was robotic, meaning they were only sentries. Akira gritted his teeth and charged, taking down the two enemy fighters with four blows. He knew he didn’t have time to hide the bodies, so he sprinted onwards, towards the main building, where he knew Layla, Rowan, and Dante were being kept.

Back up on the hill, Leandro was having something of a crisis. When you give someone a ride to their rebel mission, do you stay and make sure they have a getaway vehicle? Especially if you really, really want to get that someone’s number? Should he have gone with Akira to help him break his friends out and prove that he actually did care? No other social situation had prepared him for any of these questions he was asking himself now. Even using the binoculars he kept stored in his seat compartment he couldn’t spot Akira’s lithe form as it inevitably hurried towards the center of the prison.

Leandro was so invested in looking for Akira that he nearly jumped five feet into the air as an alarm suddenly rang out. Loud and piercing, it was easily identifiable as a warning bell. With every renewed ring, Leandro grew more antsy. Finally he had had enough.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and double checked that he had both of his pistols. Then he began sprinting as fast as he could down the hill.

Akira was making progress. He had entered the main cell facility as soon as the alarm had gone off, already taken out a dozen guards, and was now standing at the door to his friends’ cell. Probably where they were kept when they weren’t being interrogated. All it took for the door to open was a quick, vicious stab of his sword into the lock.

When he spotted his friends, his knees wobbled a bit in relief. All of them were handcuffed, and shouted with relief when they saw him. Layla’s mouse-brown hair was sticking up in all directions and her green eyes, normally skeptical and cold, were warm and filled with emotion. Her brother would be relieved to see her with no extreme injuries. Rowan’s lanky limbs were sprawled out in front of her, where she was sitting against the wall. Most of her long blonde hair had come out of its normal braid, covering most of her face. Dante looked to be in the worst shape; his normally tan skin was pale and his ankle was resting at unnatural angle. He was the only one to not exclaim when he barged in.

After a quick removal of all of their bonds, Akira and Rowan helped Dante to his feet. Akira pulled knife out of his boot and handed it to Layla with a loaded expression. Even though she was more accustomed to computers and hacking, Layla knew how to use a blade. They began to make their way out of the building, moving way too slowly for Akira’s tastes.

As they reached the end of the hallway, they began to hear the echo of laser shots in the distance. Akira barely spared the noise a thought, knowing that any distraction was a good distraction. However, as the noise grew closer and closer, he began to worry. Layla turned around from where she was leading them, raising a questioning eyebrow. Turning to Rowan, he motioned her to stop.

“Rowan, you stay here with Dante. Take this,” he held out his final blade, “And don’t go anywhere unless you need to. Layla and I are going to check out the source of that noise and come straight back, I promise.”

Rowan accepted the small dagger, and pushed her hair behind her ears as she nodded, “If you don’t come back in, well, in a reasonable amount of time, I’m going after you.”

After a parting nod, Akira led the way towards the commotion, Layla trotting after him, having to work harder because of her short legs. Rounding the corner, they both stopped in their tracks.

“Who the quiznak is that?” Layla exclaimed.

It was Leandro, and he was holding off a lot of Hignua. He held a blaster in both hands, and was taking down soldiers with astoundingly accurate shots to the head, easily nailing them between the eyes through their visor gap. Akira was shocked still, his sword hanging uselessly at his side.

“Le- Leandro?” he managed to choke out.

At the sound of Akira’s voice, Leandro paused, swinging around to face him. He was sweating profusely, but his expression was hard. Even so, he managed a half-hearted smile, one side of his mouth pulling higher than the other. His eyes abruptly widened as a beam whizzed past his ear, close enough that his hair began to smolder, so he immediately turned back around.

“A little help, maybe?” he shouted over the din, jerking Akira from whatever trance he had been trapped in. He dashed forward with his sword, assaulting the barricade of guards, Layla close behind him, still shouting questions about Leandro.

He found himself surrounded, fighting back to back with her, stabbing and slashing as Leandro’s friendly fire caused havoc around them.

“So when did you meet the cute sharpshooter?” Layla called over her shoulder.

Akira jerked like he had touched an electric fence, and barely ducked a wide punch from a nearby Hignua.

“He’s our ride to the ship,” he grunted, still fighting, “And why do you care if he’s cute? Aren’t you like, twelve?”

“I’m fifteen!” she protested. Indignant.

Soon, the hallway was filled with incapacitated Hignua guards, and the three of them just stood there, staring and panting, before Layla finally spoke.

“So are you gonna introduce me or…” she trailed off.

Akira rolled his eyes and gestured between the two of them, “Layla, Leandro, Leandro this is Layla. Both of you are annoying so you’ll get along fine.”

Both of the indicated subjects began to protests, but Akira waved at them to be quiet and turned around to go and get Rowan and Dante. Ten minutes later, the entire group, now one member stronger hurried outside and into the surrounding hills. When they reached Leandro’s bike a problem soon became apparent.

“How in the multiverse are we all supposed to fit on that?” Layla exclaimed.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Rowan offered.

Leandro smiled at them, and Akira rolled his eyes at the obviously flirtatious look.

“Not to worry ladies, my bike is well equipped,” he announced, reaching around the handlebars to press a cleverly hidden button. With a rusty-sounding groan, two panels began to unfold from the sides of the bike, covering the giant fans that created the lift needed to get off the ground. When the expansion was finally complete, there was ample room for three more passengers, but no seats or seat belts in sight.

“So I usually just use this function to carry groceries, but I’m sure it can manage people as well. You’ll just have to hang on tight,” Leandro explained. He hopped into the driver’s seat, and the others helped him load Dante into the second seat, since it wouldn’t be safe for him on the extended area with his bad leg.

Finally, they were all ready and situated. Akira gave Leandro the directions to their ship, and as he pulled away, Akira let out a breath of relief. His first mission definitely hadn’t gone as planned, but he was thinking that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

[flowers-creativity]

Bad Luck (Chapter 14)

Fandom: The Musketeers Characters: Porthos du Vallon, Athos (Comte de la Fere), Aramis (René d’Herblay, d’Artagnan (Charles), Jean Tréville, Flea Warnings: Violence, whipping, racism, slavery, abduction, minor character death Summary: Porthos rarely had bad luck at the card table. But when he hit a streak of really bad luck, it was only the beginning …Soon, the other three Inseparables were desperately searching for their missing friend while he did his best to get back to them.

AO3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20

The horses the Musketeers had acquired in Le Havre were excellent beasts, and by the end of the day leaving the port city, they reached the spot the captain had shown Athos. From there, it was easy enough to track the slavers – the fleeing men might not have left such easily visible tracks, but those pursuing them were a large group moving slowly. After a short rest to grab a few hours of sleep, it took them until midday until the group came into view.

D'Artagnan was seething, chomping at the bit to confront them, but Athos held him back. After all, they had not done anything that might have given the Musketeers cause to question them. Aramis was barely less impatient than the Gascon but knew that their leader was right – it was best to follow them until they found Porthos and the other men, even if it was hard.

Athos kept them at a walk behind the group, at a careful distance, and occasionally sent d'Artagnan as their best tracker – in Porthos' absence – ahead to veer off the path a bit to look for possible signs of the fugitives the slavers might have missed. The men riding ahead of them seemed relaxed enough, talking and cursing in rough tones. From what they could see, most of the men were some kind of hired fighters and thugs. There was one man in the midst of them who looked angry and focused, quite obviously the leader – Cernier, as the captain had called him. The group moved slowly, with one or two men periodically going off into the woods off the narrow road they were following. Athos' guess was that the fugitives were keeping off the road but were close enough that the men were more comfortable not moving through the underbrush in a group as large as theirs.

They'd been following them for a few hours when Aramis' sharp eyes were the first to spot a change in the group. Easy banter quieted down, postures straightened up, and hands strayed towards weapon belts when one of the men came back out of the woods and talked to their leader. “I think we're close,” Aramis told his brothers.

Athos scrutinised the group and nodded. “Stay sharp,” he told them. “And let's try to get ahead now. Maybe we can get there before they do.”

They guided their horses off the road and into the forest, speeding up so they could pull level with the group while keeping the lookout for signs of the fugitives.

The group of slavers reached them first, though. The sound of raised voices drew the Musketeers the rest of the way, and they found them at the edge of a small clearing, most of the men with their pistols drawn and pointed across the clearing at a pair of dark-skinned men.

Aramis' heart sank when he realised none of them was Porthos. One was older, with dark hair cropped close to the head and a slender build, the other a broad-shouldered young man with a halo of dark curls. Then the older man stepped forward, and Aramis realised he was standing in front of someone on the ground, shielding him protectively. And it was … Aramis felt a weight lift off his shoulders when he recognised the large frame of his brother, but it was quickly replaced by a different one when he saw that the man was struggling to sit up, and his upper body was swaddled in dirty and torn bandages.

“You have one chance.” The man that had to be Cernier was speaking. “If you come quietly, you will live, but I have no compunction to shoot you where you stand.”

The young man took a step forward. “Never,” he replied coolly. He held two pistols in his hands and levelled them at the leader. “We're done being quiet.”

Though the older man held a sword as if he only knew which end was the pointy one, his gaze was trained on the other men without wavering. Behind him, Porthos had made it to his knees but his head hung low, his arms limp at his sides. Aramis ached to get to him but forced himself to look away from him and to Athos.

Athos looked from Aramis to d'Artagnan and drew his pistols, silently nodding at them when they mirrored his action. Another round of silent communication passed between them, and then they shifted as one towards the group to take aim.

Before them, the leader was speaking again. Despite his threats, he seemed unwilling to slaughter the “goods” where they stood. Aramis blended out his voice and sighted along his pistol barrel. He loosed his shot first, immediately followed by the double crack of d'Artagnan and Athos' pistols. He switched his second pistol to his right and shot again, then holstered the empty pistols and drew his sword, spurring his horse forwards, trusting that his two friends, slightly slower in handling their pistols, would be right behind him.

The clearing had erupted into chaos at their shots. Several men lay beneath their horses, a few of them motionless, but the Musketeers concentrated on those still in the saddle and moving. Aramis' eyes could not find the leader at first glance, and he only allowed his eyes to stray to the small group of fugitives for a split second. The young man just loosed a shot from his pistol, then dropped it and drew a sword. The other man still stood in front of Porthos. Aramis prayed that they would be able to protect him and themselves until the three Musketeers had dealt with the group. Then the first of the slaver's hired men met his challenge, and he pushed all other thoughts aside.

Their initial volley had cut down the number of their adversaries enough that they could make short work of the rest. Soon enough, the last of the men surrendered with Athos' blade at his throat, and the Musketeers stood breathing heavily. Aramis looked around at the two others. “Are you alright?” he asked. Athos just nodded, while d'Artagnan answered: “I'm fine. And you?” Aramis gave him the ghost of a smile, as he replied: “I'm alright.” There were the usual little nicks and bruises, and his muscles were sore after the exertion, but those were all things they had become accustomed to. He looked at their leader, and Athos did not need to ask what he wanted. “Go to him,” he told the medic.

Aramis felt as if he was an arrow finally released from its bow, and he hurried across the clearing in long strides.

And stopped short when a blade was lifted, its tip against his chest. The younger of the two strangers had stepped forward and was glowering at him. “Who are you?” he demanded to know.

Aramis raised his hands in a placating gesture. “My name is Aramis,” he replied, as calmly as he could. “I'm a Musketeer,” he turned slightly to display his pauldron, “and I'm his brother.” He looked past the man and his blade to Porthos. “Please, let me go to him.”

Indecision and wariness warred on the young man's face until he finally lifted the sword from Aramis' chest and stepped aside. The older man had knelt down at Porthos' side and was supporting him. He looked up at Aramis with a painful mixture of hope and desperation in his eyes. “Can you help him?” he asked. “Please ...”

The medic swallowed. “I will,” he promised. He knelt down on Porthos' other side and reached out a hand to his face. He was almost surprised that it did not shake.

“Porthos?” he breathed. The heat his fingers encountered was shocking. Porthos' skin was dry to the touch, which was even worse – as was the fact that he barely reacted to his name, his gaze unfocused and clouded by pain and fever, even though he held himself up stubbornly as if his mind was still trying to react to the earlier threat but he was lacking the energy to do more than this failed attempt to rise.

Aramis took a deep breath. “Help me lay him down,” he asked the stranger. “Do you know where he is injured?” Over his shoulder, he called: “Athos, d'Artagnan, I need my kit!”

The older man looked down at Porthos sorrowfully as he carefully pushed him to the ground. Porthos made a short, distressed sound, trying to resist, but after only a moment, he yielded to the touch. “He was whipped a few days ago,” the stranger said, “and there's a long cut on his left side.”

Aramis nodded slightly, his hands moving with customary ease to loosen the filthy bandages around Porthos' torso. After the short moment of resistance, the large man was pliant beneath their hands, seemingly still dimly aware but too far gone with fever to react to his brother's presence or their manhandling. The medic shoved away his fear when the bandages fell away and revealed the wound on the front, red and puffy and weeping a cloudy fluid. He gestured to the other man to help him turn Porthos onto his side.

The sight and smell of Porthos' back almost made him gag. The wounds themselves had not been too bad originally, he supposed, but infection had set in deeply, and they were brimming with pus.

“I tried to clean them,” the older man told him, sounding apologetical, “after we went into the river. I don't think I did much good.”

Aramis flashed him a brittle smile. “You never know,” he replied. “It might have bought him some time, at the very least. No matter what, I'm thankful to you for helping him.”

d'Artagnan appeared at his side and handed him his kit. “What can I do?” the Gascon asked anxiously, his gaze on Porthos' wan face.

The marksman sent him back to their horses for their water skins and set to cleaning out the wounds with grim determination. The other black man – Fadil, he told him at some point – assisted him quietly. d'Artagnan came back a bit later, bringing their water skins, and then Athos joined them. His expression was dark as he took in Porthos' almost motionless form. “How is he?” he asked.

Aramis shook his head. “His fever is high, and he needs water desperately,” he replied. “I don't know--” he broke off and took a deep breath. “The infection is deep.” He met Athos' eyes and knew that his friend would understand from his bleak tone what he dared not voice. A quiet curse at his side showed that d'Artagnan had understood, too.

Athos nodded sharply. “Should we make camp? Or take him to an inn or village?” he asked, his tone clipped.

The medic took off his hat and buried a hand in his hair, tugging at the dark curls. He was loath to move the ill man more than necessary, but a place to stay in a more civilised area would mean access to more water than they had in their water skins, and possibly a physician who knew how to help Porthos better than he could. Making his decision, he said: “Let me finish this and make up a poultice, then we should find some place with plenty of water. That's what he'll need most.”

“Alright,” Athos said, “tell us what you need, and d'Artagnan and I will get some of the horses ready. Can you ride?” He directed the question to the two fugitives who were standing a bit apart from them, looking on apprehensively.

The young Mulatto simply nodded while Fadil answered: “Not well but I can stay in the saddle if you don't go too fast.”

“Good.” Athos gave them a nod. “We'll leave in one hour.”

Aramis focused back on Porthos' injuries, cleaning them as deeply as he could, dousing them with alcohol and trying not to let fear take over at how still Porthos was despite his rough treatment.

Fadil joined him again, and Aramis directed him to wet some cloths and wipe down Porthos' burning face and body while he crushed some herbs and mixed them into a thick paste with which he filled the wounds. He wrapped Porthos' torso again with fresh linen, then sat back and wiped his brow. It was not much but it was all he could do for his brother right now.

He looked around and found that Athos and d'Artagnan had been busy as well. In addition to their horses, they had readied two more who stood with empty saddles. Four of the slaver's men shared two horses between them, their arms and legs bound and showing different levels of awareness. Apparently, his two friends had bound their injuries, so there was no immediate threat of them passing away, and Aramis was happy to trust in their ability to do so, so they would not waste any more time on those men.

Athos and the young man whose name was Marcel hoisted Porthos up onto Aramis' horse, placing him in front of the marksman. He encircled Porthos' waist with his arms and picked up his reins. It was awkward to have him in front of him but there was no way Porthos would have stayed seated on the horse behind him. And when Athos had attempted to suggest a different arrangement, Aramis had just shot him a flat look that dissuaded him from any further discussion. Not that there were any real options – the difference in height between him and d'Artagnan was so slight as to not matter at all in these circumstances, and Athos was shorter than both of them, if a bit sturdier. As were the two fugitives, and even if not, Aramis would not have entrusted his brother to them now, no matter how thankful he was for what they had done for Porthos up to now. No, Porthos belonged in his arms, his care right now.

They set off at the fastest trot they could manage. Aramis let the horse choose its path, more or less, just steering it with a press of a thigh or a nudge of a boot here and there. His main focus was on the hot, silent presence in front of him that was Porthos. His lids were still open by a slit, showing a sliver of white, still seemingly unable to let go of his consciousness entirely because of some perceived danger, perhaps, even though the only danger was the fever raging ín his body. But the dark eyes were unseeing, only moving spasmodically now and then when a fever dream seemed to grip him momentarily. Aramis tried to rouse him a few times but without success, and finally, his words devolved into an almost meaningless litany, prayers mixing with him telling Porthos about their search, retelling some long-ago adventures, hardly aware what he was saying – he did not know why but it felt necessary to anchor his friend with his voice, to give him something he might use to pull himself back from the darkness threatening to swallow him. Because they had not found Porthos just to lose him anyway.

[genogenocrazycatman]

Stillwater - Chapter 4

Stillwater [Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.Net, Mibba]

Characters: Original Female Character, Monkey D. Luffy, Rorona Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji, Nami, Usopp, Tony Tony Chopper, Nefeltari Vivi

***

"We build as only children know to build

We made a way where there's a will

No slowing down or standing still

Innocent and reckless

"How did we get so old and never notice

How did we gain the world and lose the moment

Rise and fall, the tide surrounds us

And drowns us all"

-Hands Like Houses

***

If it seems like it’s too good to be true, it probably is, which is why despite the jovial atmosphere of the tavern we were in, I was still wary.

It seemed that Whisky Peak had a certain fondness for pirates, greeting us with cheers of celebration when we first arrived. We had barely set foot on solid ground, when we were met by the town’s mayor, who immediately offered up booze, food and smiles. I admittedly hadn’t spent much time in Paradise, immediately, starting my way back home after I had been beaten by my father, but none of the islands I had landed on before had ever been this happy to see pirates, not unless the crew in question was their protectors.

Something was up. I mean they were even fawning over Usopp, going along with his blatantly obvious lies. However, none of the possibilities that I had come up with were too much for the crew to handle, so I kept my mouth shut and plastered a smile on my face, opting to just go to the flow. As far as I could tell, nothing that we had been given had been poisonous yet, so I figured we might as well get our fill, while we could.

“You’ve been nursing that mug for a very long time. Go ahead drink up,” one of the guys sitting at the bar urged.

“Not everyone can drink like you Boyd, especially not a little girl.”

I looked further down the bar at the man, who had spoken. His tone was mocking, patronizing.

I glared at the man. I had little patience for men like him. Over grown gorillas, who liked to pick on those that they perceived to be weaker than them.

“I’m not some little girl,” I snipped.

I was so far from it.

“Uh-oh. You’ve pissed her off,” the original guy, Boyd, said chuckling.

“How old are you?” the second guy asked. “Fifteen? Sixteen? Are you even allowed to drink?”

I cursed my appearance. Usually it worked in my favor. I was plain, which allowed me to blend in, and unassuming, which kept people from seeing me as a threat, but it was a double edged sword. It made people think I was weak and naive.

“I’m nine-h-“ I stopped.

‘Fuck.’

Years at home had spoiled me. I was free to be myself in the safety of my friends and family. I didn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances and false pretenses. For short periods of time, it was fine, but extended periods like this were proving to be exhausting.

“-teen,” I grumbled the latter half of the number.

The pair laughed.

“I can handle my liquor better than anybody else in this bar,” I declared.

“Oh really?” Boyd smirked.

“Really.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that the mayor is about to annoyance toast competition.”

I followed his eyes to the mayor. “We had an excellent grape harvest this year. To celebrate that harvest, our traditional toast competition!”

Everyone cheered.

“Make a toast take a drink. This continues as long as you can hold your liquor. Last one standing is the winner.”

“I’m gonna feel real bad embarrassing you boys like this. After all, you’re about to be drunk under the table by a little girl.”

“Mira, you’re competing too?” Nami asked when I walked over.

“Gotta show these two how it’s done. I thought you weren’t drinking.”

“Weren’t you paying attention? There’s money involved,” Zoro explained.

“Ah.”

“Then let’s begin!” the mayor announced, raising his mug. “To our new friends!”

We went around, people making a toast after toast downing drink after drink. We didn’t start losing people until four.

My two challengers were both in the running still. I could tell that they were feeling it. Guy number two more so than Boyd. I was perfectly fine, but had to keep appearances, so I swayed and stumbled and slurred my words.

Nami and Zoro were both holding their own pretty well too. From the looks of it, they were just getting started.

Nami toasted to money, not surprisingly, and Zoro to becoming the world’s greatest swordsman. That took out guy number two and brought the toasting to Boyd.

“To my victory,” he slurred.

I snorted, finishing off my drink and being handed another, my turn. “To the future king of the pirates,” I said, looking at Luffy, who was downing food faster than the cook could prepare it.

Twelve took out Boyd. He collapsed to the ground.

I looked down and smiled. “I’ve made my point,” I said, setting down my thirteenth, before I had to drink it. “I quit.”

“I can’t believe you’re quitting,” Nami said. “Pansy.”

“Last thing I want, is to have to listen to you bitch, cause I won the prize money.”

“You wouldn’t win,” she called, as I turned.

“That’s what you think,” I shot back.

It was down to her, Zoro and a nun. After the thirteenth mug, it was just Nami and the nun. I didn’t watch, instead, stumbling through the crowd and out the door, but I would hear, Nami’s shouts of victory, once the nun went down.

Luffy was down as well, stomach blown up the largest that I had seen. Sanji I was pretty sure was love drunk surrounded by a crowd of pretty women. If the color on Usopp’s face was anything to go by, he was pretty far gone as well.

I stumbled outside and around the side of the building until I was out of sight of the townspeople. Once I was in the clear, I dropped the drunken act, and climbed up the building until I was on the roof, where I laid and basked in the moonlight.

Eventually the party died out, and the air became still and quiet, the only sounds being that of the ocean lapping on the shore in the distance and the snores coming from the people passed out inside.

A short while after everyone passed out, the quiet was broken by the mayor. I crawled over to the edge of the building to get eyes on him.

Now I could figure up what was with him and this weird town.

Our two strays were there as well, sitting directly underneath me.

“They’ve worn themselves out partying and are fast asleep. Sweet dreams, brave adventurers. My how the cactus rocks gleam under the pale moonlight. Beautiful as ever.”

“If I may say, your poetic skills are beyond compare, Igarappoi- I mean Mr. 8.”

‘Of course,’ I thought dryly. ‘More of the dumb numbers.’

“So where are they?” Wednesday asked.

“They’re falling... Straight to hell.”

I almost wanted to laugh at how dramatic this guy was being. I mean really? Take us to hell? Between that and the gleaming rocks, this guy was starting to sound like my cousin after he had a little too much wine.

The trio was joined by the nun, who removed her habit, revealing a short pink and white checkered dress underneath.

“Damn. My head is killing me. Our guest didn’t have the good taste to pass out gracefully, so I doctored they’re drinks a little, or else they’d be up all night drinking us into oblivion.”

If that was spiked with something, then I hated to think of what they’d been drinking before. Grape juice.

“So tell me was it really necessary to put on this elaborate show for those idiots?” the nun asked. “I get that no one wants to hear me whine, but it’s my duty to point out the amount of food we’ve wasted, when we could’ve just ambushed them at the harbor.”

This was a trap. No surprise there. I was under the assumption that they were after our supplies and treasures. It wasn’t like we were rolling in gold or anything. Nami probably was, but as far as pirate crews go, we were pretty broke.

I wasn’t really sure what the bounty situation was on board. After all the fuss that had been made over Luffy in Logue Town, I figured he had one. Maybe Zoro, but I doubted the others were worth anything. If it was worth the effort that they’d put into this party farce, then Luffy had to have one hell of a bounty.  

“We’re already short on supplies. It’s not like anyone had high hopes for that whale meat or anything.”

Mr.9 puffed up defensively. “Why don’t you go try to kill that damn whale? We tried our best.”

“Both of you calm down. Before you question the validity of my plan, why don’t you take a look at this?”

The mayor, Mr.8, whatever, pulled out a wanted poster. Luffy’s smiling face was printed on the page. I checked the number below it. ‘Thirty-million, before he even made it to the Grand Line.’ That was a pretty respectable number, well worth the effort they’d put in so far.

Too bad it was all going to be for nothing.

The nun and the strays balked at the number. “THIRTY-MILLION BERRIES?!”

“For those morons?’

“Don’t be foolish. Appearances can be deceiving. That goes for-“ the mayor cleared his throat and performed a vocal exercise. “That goes for all of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s no matter. Our prey has been trapped, and that’s news the boss will enjoy.”

“That’s what you think,” I mumbled.

I hadn’t been with the crew for long, and I had only seen them in action once, but that was enough for me to know that these guys didn’t have a chance.

I wasn’t the only one, who had been playing drunk earlier. I could feel Zoro approach that cursed blade of his giving him away.

I glanced back at Zoro. “What? Can’t sleep now, because you were out all day?”

“Ha ha,” he deadpanned. “This place gave me a bad vibe.”

I nodded. “As it should. They’re going to raid the Merry and cash in on Luffy’s Bounty.”

“So what do we do with them now?” Ms. Monday asked.

I was wondering the same thing about the people below.

“I thought it was something like that. I guess I’ll take care of this, since you guys dealt with all that weather crap earlier.”

“Oh how chivalrous.”

He rolled his eyes at me.

“Kill them?” Mr.9 asked.

This time it was Zoro, who scoffed.

“If they die, the bounty drops thirty percent. The government prefers to hold public executions. Now go. I want them alive.”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. You mind letting my friends sleep? They had a long day and the journey was exhausting, so I’ve been told.”

“Hey Mr.8, Ms. Monday, one of them escaped from the room, when we weren’t looking.”

‘Well well well, if it isn’t Boyd and that other guy.’

“Ugh. He’s right over there.”

“Sneaky wretch, you should’ve stayed asleep with your friends.”

“A good swordsman never makes the mistake of letting his guard down. Plus, I took a nap earlier. Judging by the scowls and cheap disguises, you’re all bounty hunters, whose specialty is robbing drunk pirates, who fall for your hospitality. It’s original. I’ll give you that at least.

“I count a hundred of you scum bags give or take, and I’ll fight all of you. You hear me, Baroque Works?”

It was helpful having a name for the organization. We had a concrete enemy now, someone specific to fight.

Well Zoro had someone to fight.

Everyone down below freaked out.

“How do you know our name?”

“I was in a similar line of work once upon a time. Your company tried to entice me with a job offer. Naturally, I said no. Do the same rules still apply? Employee identities kept secret, cheesy code names, the boss’s identity and whereabouts also a mystery? Baroque Works, the criminal group that faithfully carries out their orders like herded sheep. That’s some secret.”

“This is a surprise. If you know all of our secrets, then we are left with no other choice than to kill you, and another gravestone will be added to the cactus rocks tonight.” The mayor guy chuckled darkly, before issuing the order to kill Zoro.

Before any of them could move, he’d moved, appearing in the midst of their ranks.

I sat up right, so I could watch the show.

“It’s her!” Boyd yelled.

“You have a lot more to worry about than a little girl,” I informed them, pointing out Zoro.

He grinned. The bounty hunters drew their weapons and fired at him, but he was too fast. Instead of hitting him, the bullets flew into their fellow Baroque Works agents.

The mayor was getting frustrated, but even more evident, he was worried. He was beginning to sweat. The muscles in his neck were tense. His eyes were wide and flicking back and forth wildly.

“Incompetent morons, they just shot each other.”

“Yeah and the pirate got away.”

‘Way to state the obvious.’

The mayor turned around to bark out another order to his minions. “Just kill him! He’s only one man.”

Zoro’s blade slid through the idiot’s hair, glinting in the man’s peripheral.

“Ask yourself. Will one grave stone really be enough?”

“There he is!” The bounty hunters aimed their weapons at Zoro and by extension Mr.8.

All semblance of calm and control was out of the widow at this point. He screamed at the men to hold their fire, to keep him from being shot. He pulled out a saxophone of all things and blew into the instrument, causing it to shoot bullets.

Zoro ducked, avoiding them, before vanishing once more.

A few flew up towards me, but I dodged them with ease.

“Your friend isn’t going to make it through this, and once we get him, we’re coming after you,” the mayor said.

“Cause that’s going real well for you right now. You don’t even know where he is.”

He shot at me once more, but I jumped out of the way to another rooftop, down through a window inside. No one as home, seeing as the whole town was hunting Zoro. They ran into the first floor, while I hopped out of a side window on the second and into the adjacent house.  I exited out of the back door of that one, putting some distance between myself and the bounty hunters, before taking to the roof tops once again.

Zoro said he had this, so I was gonna leave it to him. Now if Boyd and his friend ended up in my path, well then maybe I would join in on the fun.

I caught site of the swordsman from my newest perch. He was having himself a grand old time, slicing through the bounty hunters, knocking them off of ladders, cutting holes into the ground for them to fall into.

Ms. Monday swung a ladder at Zoro, which he barely dodged. She slid her brass knuckles onto to her fingers.

“It was a good effort, swordsman, but there is no man, who can best my strength.”

‘Why should he get to have all the fun?’

“What about a woman?” I asked, jumping from my perch. My foot nailed her elbow, the impact, causing her to release Zoro. I wrapped both legs around her neck, and threw myself back, flipping her over, so that I landed on top of her, my legs pinning down her arms. She tried to fight out from underneath me, to push me off, but despite her advantage in terms of actual size, I had more strength. I raised my fist and drove it into her face, knocking her out.

“You still a little groggy from that nap earlier or something? Letting her get the jump on you.”

Boyd and the other guy charged at me from behind. I ducked the wire that they held between them and grabbed them both by the back of the shirt. I grabbed the wire, pulling it from their grasps, slicing my hand in the process, before slamming Boyd into the other, the impact strong enough to toss them both off of the roof.

“I could’ve handled that,” he said.

“’Thank you, Mira.’ ‘Oh you’re welcome, Zoro.’”

There was something about teasing Zoro that was just so much fun. I mean he made it so easy. He left himself wide open. It was even better because he didn’t have an argument for anything that I had said so far.

“Yeah yeah, I told you I got this.”

“Alright then,” I backed off. “Go ahead. You got this.”

Zoro strode over to the edge of the building, gazing down at the Baroque Works members below.

“Is that all you can offer Baroque Works?” he asked. “Cause you’re gonna need to do a lot better than that.”

I sat on the edge of the building.

Zoro carried a cursed blade. Initially, I had thought that that was the source of the dark aura that seemed to radiate from him, and it was, to an extent, but there was something else. There was something coming from within him. It was dark and violent. It was demonic almost.

It wasn’t noticeable earlier, but now it was. That sword of his, despite having sliced through over ninety people, hadn’t been satiated yet. It was still thirsty, begging for blood, and so it seemed was Zoro.

Mr.9 explained Baroque Works’ ranking to us. I think it was supposed to intimidate us, but neither Zoro nor I were impressed.

“I’ve found that fancy titles mean nothing, when it comes to fighting. The strongest wins and that’s that.”

The mayor fired at us with that stupid saxophone of his once more. I shuffled out of the way to the side, while Zoro, jumped up a level.

Mr.9 pursued him, while Wednesday whistled, calling her duck.

I raised a brow. “That’s your trump card? A duck?”

“Are you kidding me? A duck?”

“You get distracted so easily,” Mr.9 said, standing atop a belfry. “How can you hope to follow my acrobatics?” He began back flipping down towards Zoro. “You better prepare for my bloody bats!”

Zoro easily blocked his attack with one of his swords.

“You better be careful not to chip your precious blades.”

Zoro sheathed one of his swords.

At this point, Zoro was just toying with Mr.9, forcing him to go on the defensive and backing him up to the end of the building, which he wasn’t aware of. He attempted another one of his acrobatic moves, but ended up jumping off of the building.

“Is this really the best they can do?”

“There’s better. I’m still here. Are you ready, Mr.Bushido? Now, enjoy my perfume dance.”

Wednesday lifted her arms over her head and swayed back and forth. The fragrance of her perfumes choked Zoro out and brought him to his knees.

“Good boy,” he cooed. “And now, peacock slasher! Now Carue!” she hopped on the duck, and charged at Zoro.

Her weapon was a unique one, wires with a small jewel at the end of it. I had no doubt that they were effective cutting weapons, especially at the speed she was swinging them around.

Too bad the duck wasn’t as effective. He blew right past Zoro, and straight towards me. I quickly got up and pushed off the roof, jumping onto the building across the street. They fell of the building into a pile of junk on the side of the building.

They mayor’s saxophone sounded off, a barrage of bullets aimed at Zoro. Zoro cut a hole in the roof of the building, disappearing into the building below.

Mr.9 jumped out of the pile of debris he had created upon landing. He produced a chain from his bat, using it to tie up Zoro’s arm.

“Watcha gonna do now, tough guy?”

“Kick your ass,” Zoro replied easily.

I snorted.

“Excellent work,” the mayor commended.

“Come on, Mr.8, kill him now. You won’t get away!”

“That’s right, don’t move,” Miss Wednesday said. She had a machete in hand aimed at a still engorged, still sleeping Luffy. “If you even think about doing anything foolish, Mr. Bushido. Your friend here will be paying the price.”

“You idiot. Can’t he at least wake up, when he’s being held hostage?”

Mr.9 cackled with glee.

It had been fun and games up until this point, mostly, because these guys were kind of like gnats, annoying, but essentially harmless. This was different, because Luffy was asleep, oblivious to the danger he was in.

“Foolish is taking a crew’s captain hostage,” I said, standing up.

“Ah ah ah.” She wagged her finger. “Take one step off of that building and your precious captain meets his maker.”

I stayed still. I just had to bide my time

“Well done Ms. Wednesday. It looks like there will be no escape for the swordsman this time, unless he wants his friend to die.”

Mr.8 pulled at the strings of his neck tie, exposing the gun barrels hidden in his curls. “Firing squad ready!”

“What?!” Zoro yelled, caught off guard.

He yanked the strings further, the barrels firing. “Igarappappa!”

Zoro yanked on the chain, pulling Mr.9 with it, putting him between Zoro and the bullets.

Ms.Wednesday was shocked by this, which gave me my opening. I hopped off of the building and knocked the machete from her hand, before hitting her with a kick to the mid section, that sent her flying backwards.

“Duck!” Zoro yelled. I did as he said, hitting the ground.  He threw Mr.9, using him to take out Carue, sending them both into the same crater that I had hurled, Ms. Wednesday.

Mr.8 fired again, but Zoro managed to evade it. He used Luffy as a trampoline, jumping up and slashing at Mr.8, taking him out of commission.

Luffy lifted his head, opening his eyes. “Where am I?” he asked.

I shook my head and chuckled. “Just go back to sleep.”“

“How’d I get outside?”

I didn’t have time to respond, before he was out again.

I looked up Zoro, who was sitting on the roof of the building.

“I got say I’m impressed. Your skill with your blades is amazing, especially wielding a cursed sword. That’s even more impressive.”

“You can feel it too.”  It wasn’t a question, just an observation.

I nodded anyways. “Have you had it long?” I asked.

“Only since Logue Town.”

“It must’ve been there a long time. Its thirst for blood is strong.”

“Must be why it was being so disobedient.”

I looked at the carnage around us. “It’s only a matter of time, before they send some more. We should probably get out of here.”

“Meh, let ‘em. Everyone needs the rest. If they come, then I’ll just have to cut them down.”

Zoro seemed pleased at the prospect.

I shrugged. Based on what I could tell, he was first mate. No one really used titles on the crew save for when it came to Nami and Sanji.

He took a large swig from his bottle.

“Well then, since you have everything under control here, I’m going to head back to the Merry, make sure they didn’t steal or break anything.”

“You should get some rest. You worked just as hard as the other earlier. If you push yourself too much, you’re gonna burn out.”

I nodded at him. He was right. Plus, I was more than ready to go to bed. I had gotten my fill of crappy booze, entertainment and food. Sleep sounded great.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” I said, heading towards the Merry. “Good night, Zoro.”

“Night.”

***

Notes:

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