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c-u-c-koo-4-40k · 8 months ago

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Child of the Sea, Child of the Land (Oops all Mythicals!)

Edit 2: Tis Finished! ENJOY!!!

Edit: Tumblr did it again dammit don't read yet its not finished!

Oops! All Mythical edition, and as a regular story instead of a poem!

Featuring a saytr reader with a posterior of a horse. Reader is a literal horses ass. And a human torso. But they're very pleasant otherwise. Why not a centaur? Cause Satyrs need more love!

Also a cameo from Lenora and Erriox who are ocs from @egrets-not-regrets ! They're great check our their stuff!

Warning: Flirting, Abrupt proposal that Kinda equates to marriage, violence, threats of getting eaten, descriptions of blinding, the word Whore, description of burning.

Notes: The mythical creatures are the humans of this world they can own other animals who are still just animals. No weird inter species stuff going on. The mythical creatures with human features just exist, as do the regular animals.

Tag: @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog @egrets-not-regrets @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Ahem!

Long ago in a world not unlike our own, their lived vast communities of strange and wonderful creatures.

There were the harpies that patrolled the skys, hunting and chorusing with their fellows. Each taking after the bird that shared their features in form and function.

There were the land dwellers, who tilled the soil, and raised the creatures of their farms to suit their needs. They came in many shapes and variances of limbs.

A centaur with the body of an Elephant who watched over the inland waterways, a drider who wove fine their silks in clothing, and most commonly, those land folk who we would call saytrs.

But more than deer or goats, they walked and ran with a plethora of mammalian hindquarters.

It is in this group we find, a very dutiful satyr. Their hind quarters were strong, resembling a horse, but enchanting with their feathered ends that contrasted their complexion.

Each day they tended to their farm, alongside their parents. With love and care and only Occasional outbursts of frustration.

Splash!

"Oh Dammit!"

Language!

"Um...sorry?" They snorted before grabbing a drying towel to mop the wet from their legs.

Anyway! However devoted...and dampened, this particular land dweller was, they did their work with a smile. For it truly brought them joy.

Crash!

"Fucking Dammit! Get back here!"

Languag- Oh Nevermind!

You got ahold of the wayward gelding before he could cause even More damage than he already had.

"Honestly Gemstone," You sighed, leading him back to his pen. You'd need a new chain...and a new fence panel.

The idiot had knocked the whole setup over trying to reach for a bit of graze on the other side.

You sighed heavily, another log to the pile. "What am I supposed to do with you huh?" You asked the rhetorical, as you tied Gemstone off to the side.

Huffing, you hefted a less destroyed panel over, followed by dismantling the first, fetching a new chain, and finally setting everything back together to your satisfaction.

You glanced back at the offending party.

"Well? Got anything to say for yourself?"

The gelding's dark eyes simply staired back. Before he slipped his tongue out and followed that up with a huge Yaaaaaaaawn.

Your serious facade broke. "Pfft! Ha..." You sighed, gently taking his head again and scratching his face the way he liked. "Guess I can't stay mad at you. Even if you are a silly bugger bear! Silly Silly bugoo be-wawr!" You cooed before returning him to his place.

"And stay there! Goofball." You shook your head and smiled, as your mother approached.

"That old fence panel finally gave up the ghost huh?" She asked, walking over.

You snorted, not unlike the horses you shared features with. "Yep, had to redo it." You huffed. "Cause somebody was a greedy Fart!" You scolded the horse again.

Gemstone simply went on munching his hay, unbothered.

Your mother chuckled, "Well it seems you've got this well in hand," She surmised, before handing you a bundle and a pitcher.

"Hm?" You took it, smelling something delightful.

"Your favorite," Your mother explained. "And some lemonade to help you stay hydrated. Go ahead and eat your lunch."

"Awww, thanks mom."

"You've more than earned it sweetie. mwah." She replied, with a kiss on your cheek, before walking back to your cottage.

As you watched her go, you felt an odd twisting in your heart.

"Her next birthday is pretty soon." You spoke, to no one in particular, maybe Gemstone could listen to your thoughts.

"I want to get her something special. I still remember when she showed me her collections of shells." You mused. "Some of those are even older than me..."

Your mother Loved the beach, and the ocean, after all she was born and raised with it practically next door. She'd spend hours at your age combing the beach for shells and sea glass.

But now...now it was so much more difficult for her. Between age and farm work, you couldn't even remember the last time You went swimming, let alone to the oceanside.

But...if your idea worked out, you'd be able to present her with a beautiful gift! A genuine piece of coral, and one in her favorite color no less!

There's was just one...small issue. Even at your best, you would not be able to dive long enough to retrieve it.

And even with your strength, you doubted you could break a piece from a creature that was more or less living rock.

And even if you Could, you'd run the risk of offending....one of them.

You felt a shiver pass through you.

Ah yes, the third and final group of this strange world's denizens. And by far the Most dangerous.

The sea folk.

Among their numbers were your typical mermaids, selkies, even the occasional crustacean-kin. Those honestly weren't frightening at all, no more so than any other stranger would be you mean.

But the most dangerous, most deadly, and most mysterious beings of the ocean, were those known as The Mer Astartes.

Armored, huge, stoic and nearly unknowable...but not completely.

Word was they Could be propositioned, for the right price.

That problem being that price, or rather the nature of the payment, varied Wildly depending on what mer you managed to contact.

You could end up trading something as banal as some land food items, to being demanded your own severed foreleg.

Again you shuddered.

But you would not be deterred! After all you knew where to gathe all the necessary ingredients. Those would be easy.

Well...all but...one.

As you sat beneath the shade of a tree, you gathered your long, luxurious tail into your lap.

The hair was wirey, strong, but well kept. It was a matter of pride for horse folk like yourself.

With the seasons changing, and biting flies soon to be a factor, you didn't want any of your precious equines to go without.

Besides...well kept satyr tail hair would be seen as more valuable...you hoped.

You turned your gaze toward the sea, though you could not see it. With your anticipation you could almost catch the faintest hint of salt brine.

You hoped the objects you would gather would be enough.

You hoped the old stories about the merfolk's preferences were true.

You sighed. "Another log to the pile..." You mumbled.

You left your tail unchanged for now. You didn't want your mother noticing.

You finished your lunch and the days work, and turned in early. You had a long day ahead of you.

...

The port city was Bustling with activity, even as early as you had set out.

You'd let your parents know you'd be away running errands, and the farm had another of your village's neighbors looking after it today.

Meaning you could focus solely on your task.

The crowds of different animal folk buzzed about with purpose.

Ox and cattle folk carrying Huge burdens, and drawing carts through the city streets.

Harpies of many kinds, flitting and squawking their trade and barter above in the open air and in the air market.

Like the Vulture and Eagle harpies displaying a variety of bone trinkets, and dried salted meats.

Hummingbird harpies tending to and selling flowers.

A hippo centaur carrying water with its little calf following close behind.

Adorable.

But you had two particular items in mind. And you wanted Prime quality for the task at hand.

You surveyed with not just your eyes, but your sharp nose as well, until-

"Oysters!" A voice cried out. "Fresh fish and oysters! Caught only this morning!"

Perfect!

You approached the calls, and what greeted you was an Osprey harpy. The bird woman stood behind a stall filled with fish and other marine delicacies.

"Greetings and welcome! Please have a look at our wares." She entreated as you approached.

"Hello," You replied, scanning over the offerings.

Mussels of various sizes were displayed in boxes filled with clear salt water. And many dried salted fish hung in bundles around the stall.

Plenty to chose from!

Maybe...too many.

Well, this might be harder than you first thought.

What type of Oyster and Fish Skin would most appeal to a mer Astarte?

"Something on your mind dear?"

You were woke from your thoughts by the Osprey women, the experienced seller clearly seeing your hesitation.

"Ah well..." You felt awkward, not sure how to explain your reasoning for Needing these things.

"You see...I need an Oyster and some fish skin, but I'm not sure what particular..."

"You're trying to contact an Astarte?"

You froze before stammering over your words. "How did- I mean no- I."

The Osprey harpy smiled and held up one of her taloned hands. "It's alright dear, you're not the first to go snooping for things based on the old stories."

You relaxed a bit.

Only for her demeanor to become strict. "You're not trying to lure one in to poach it are you?"

You?

Poach an Astarte?

On your own!?

"Pffffffft! Ha!" You couldn't help the outburst, only to see the Osprey's face was still serious.

You quickly tamped down your laughter. "Oh ah, sorry no. No no no, I need to ask one for help you see."

The harpy's posture immediately relaxed. "Oh?"

"Mmhm," You nodded before retrieving a piece of parchment from your satchel.

"I want to give my mother a piece of this coral." You explained, showing the image and information you'd copied from a book.

The Osprey looked over the image, examining it closely. "This Coral..."

"Is only found in the waters controlled by the mer astartes, I know." You completed her thought, returning the page to your bag.

"I know it's risky...but my mother hasn't gotten to see the ocean in so long, and it's hard for her to make the journey." You explained. "I was hoping I could bring a small part of the ocean to her."

The osprey harpy's gaze softened, clearly moved by your wish. She seemed to be mulling over her next words.

"Well...I think I can help you. At least a little bit."

You perked up.

The Osprey pulled up something from behind the counter, and laid it down so you could view it.

It was a map of the port city and nearby shorelines.

"Your best bet is to go here." She explained, pointing to a particular spot.

The name scrawled across the parchment stared back at you.

Fire Drake Shore

You paused for a moment. "Why there exactly?"

The Osprey smiled wryly. "You'll have the best chance finding someone willing to help with your quest."

"Really!?" You asked excitedly, the Osprey nodded.

"But," Your joy was interrupted buy the harpy's shift in tone back to serious. "You Must go during the day, and stay no later than sunset." She explained further. "Different mers are more active at different times of the day. You might end up contacting something far more dangerous if you don't heed these warnings."

You nodded, letting the words sink in. "Fire Drake Shore, during the day, no later than sunset. Got it!"

"Alright," The Osprey once again relaxed, placing her clawed hands on her hips. "Now, how's about I get you set up with a proper oyster and the finest shimmering pickled fish skin." She crowed, reaching into the oyster box and for her knife. "I'll even give you a discount!"

"Really? You don't have to-"

"Think about it as being for your mother." The Osprey said, gathering your purchased items together.

Well...you supposed you wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. "Thank you, thank you so much! Um...what is your name?"

The Osprey woman smiled. "It's Lenora, sweetie."

"Well...thank you so much Lenora!" You said gratefully as you payed.

Once your items were secure, you bid Lenora the Osprey woman farewell, as you excitedly made your way to Fire Drake Shore.

As she watched you leave, the Osprey harpy felt happy, but still a little concerned.

"I wish I could've helped you more." Unbeknowst to most, Lenora had...a certain relationship with a mer astarte she'd helped by chance.

Had he not been on an extended hunting trip Erriox could have been convinced to help. He'd have grumbled and groused, but he'd have done it. Maybe even would have smiled at the adorable Horse folk getting to give their mother a beautiful gift, before acting like it didn't affect him at all.

The Osprey harpy smiled at the thought of her companions rough, but sweet demeanor. But as her thoughts went on she found herself troubled.

Fire Drake Shore was the best place that Horse saytr could go...but even there wasn't completely safe.

She hoped things would work out.

By the stars, and the ancient mothers, she hoped it would work out.

...

The crashing of waves, and salty brine met your ears and nose as you approached the shoreline.

Fire Drake Shore...

You're not sure why it was named such, nothing about it spoke to you as very...fire drakey.

But as your approached the gently rolling waves, and breathed in the salty air, you couldn't deny this place was beautiful!

Serene, and yet lively. With the call of gulls in the air, you made your way down to the water.

You stood before the waves, watching as their reach came just far enough to touch your hooves.

And for a moment, you gave yourself permission to just...enjoy the present.

The way the water would run up the sand, before seeming to vanish and melt into the beach as it receded. The salty brine that filled your nose and lungs. The way the water stretched so far out it was nearly impossible to tell where the water ended and the sky began.

But you couldn't dwell on that for much longer. There was...something else that had to be done.

One more piece to prepare...or rather two.

You gathered a chunk, about one third of you precious tail, into one hand. With your other, you took out a knife.

It wasn't even all of it...but the piece would be noticeable in its absence.

But it Would grow back. And the struggle would be worth it, it would all be worth it.

With careful precision, you began to cut through the strands of your own tail.

Snip, by snip, broken severed hair, by severed hair. You winced, but did not falter until at last you held the separated hair in you hand.

"No turning back now." You muttered, pulling out the oyster and fish skin.

You used your knife again, plunging it into the gap of the oyster and carving it open. Then, you sprinkled a bit of vinegar into the gap from a small flask you'd bought.

But rather than use your knife for the final ingredient, you chose a less painful method.

You'd intentionally let your lips become chapped and plucked and picked at the dry skin until you tasted Iron.

You carefully wrapped the now opened oyster, the fish skin and the horse hair into a bundle, much like a gift.

You pressed your bleeding lip to the parcel.

"Please, Please let this work." You whispered your prayer, feeling your heart race despite your quiet.

And with that, you reared back and Threw your bundle as Hard as you could into the sea, where it splashed and sank below the waves.

...

.........

.................

Nothing. But maybe you just needed to wait longer. You paced back and forth a bit, looking out into waves, hoping to see something come from them.

....

.............

.............................

You felt your heart sink.

All that preparation, all that hope...and for what?!

Part of you wanted to scream, the other half wanted to cry.

"RrrraAGHH!" You let the frustration out, kicking the sand and stomping about. Snorting and head tossing, and flicking what remained of your tail!

Only to slip and fall ass over tea kettle onto the sand. "WOah-oOOF!"

You laid there in disbelief for a moment. "UuURghaaaaAh!" You let out an odd mix of growl and shout in frustration, covering your eyes with your hands and thrashing for a minute before...

Before you just, slumped down, defeated.

You let out a sigh, and laid there.

The sounds of the waves and the gulls, the scent of the brine and the sluggish sparse clouds above....all was Just as peaceful and as beautiful as when you first arrived.

Maybe you could wait longer?

But maybe that wouldn't help.

Lenora had said this beach was the best option. Wouldn't that mean the old stories of summoning Astartes were true?

True doesn't mean a certain method would always work...the ocean was avert place after all.

Maybe no mer astartes had seen your offering.

You brought yourself up and sat, facing the waves still rolling.

The waves your mother used to love, the same ones that went on even without her being here...

If waves could love...would they love even when no one was watching? When the people who once adored them left and some never came back?

You felt a twinge and sniffed as some tears began to form at the corners of your eyes, you wiped them away quickly. And sighed.

Well...at least the view was pretty.

You sat there for a bit, before bringing yourself back up to stand.

There was no use dwelling on something that couldn't be changed. You'd find something else to give your mother, even if the disappointment of your failure still stung.

You turned to walk back into town, perhaps you could find something nice at one of the stalls-

SPLASH!

A damp wave of water suddenly doused you, soaking you from head to hoof in brine.

"P-pthoo! What the-" Your shout was cut off as you realized you were enveloped in a shadow much larger than you.

Your eyes trailed up at the imposing figure before you.

Long marine tail? Check, it was the color of cooled molten rock and had bright red orange veins.

Armored torso? Check, it was plated a deep green color, with dragon like insignias on the chest and shoulder pauldron.

Inscrutable, helmeted gaze? Check, the large marine had red lenses that peered down at you intensely, regarding you with curiosity, as you regarded Him with trepidation.

Neither of you spoke for a moment. The only sound passing between you his breathing. Until you decided to break the ice.

"Um...he-hello?"

The Astarte tilted his head slightly before bringing up his hand between the two of you.

You found yourself bewildered as you were presented with the parcel you'd just thrown into the sea.

Was he...trying to return it to you? "...oh...Oh, no!" You replied, gently pushing it back towards him, his arm didn't even budge. "It's for you!"

The slight twitch backwards he did is response was more readable. He was confused.

"Ah sorry Sorry, what I mean is...I need your help. And...I was told that the best way to contact you was buy...throwing this into the ocean." You hurriedly explained.

This seemed to give the marine pause, before he lifted his other hand to his helm.

Click, hiss

With a practiced ease he removed his helm, and you were taken aback by what greeted you.

A skin as dark as charcoal, but eyes that were surprisingly soft despite them being totally red. And his hair! Long and pale and curly, it seemed to bounce as it came free.

You felt a slight blush creep over your skin. He was...very attractive.

And when he spoke his voice was warm, and smooth.

"I see," He replied to you. "Though this method is a bit...outdated, To serve and to aid is the most honorable of acts. How may I assist you this day, child of the land?"

You had to force yourself to respond. "I well...I was hoping to contact an Astarte so I could get my hands on some of this. Ah one sec let me find it."

As you fumbled in your bag you had no idea Pyrus, the large Salamander, was secretly enjoying how adorable you looked.

Land dwellers were always so funny. Though he Did wish you didn't appear so frightened, but he supposed it was natural, all things considered.

You finally pulled the coral parchment from you satchel, gladdened that it wasn't too soaked, and displayed it for the marine.

As he looked over the image you continued to explain. "I want to give it to my mother as a gift. She's...always loved the ocean."

The marine looked to your face, some of your apprehension was replaced with melancholy. It tugged on his two hearts.

"It's...hard for her...she can't travel as easily these days so...I wanted to bring a bit of the ocean to her." You explained. "This coral is her Favorite color, and I wanted to give it to her for her birthday. So...in exchange for these items...do you think you could help me?"

Pyrus felt his chest swell. The Salamanders prided themselves on the virtues of love and camaraderie. To see your concern and desire to please your loved one was not only sweet, it was very attractive indeed.

He was a Slight oddity in his pod. Most of his kind didn't really...feel attraction in the sense that most baseline creatures did.

Those that did preferred the features of sea folk, which was fine, but...it did leave him a bit isolated in the fact he much preferred the features of land walkers.

He just found them so...fascinating! He'd spend hours watching at a distance as the port city buzzed with life. The music, the food, the inurmerable sights and sounds and experiences to be had.

And him...stuck out there in the ocean. Oh sure he had the ability to swim through air but if he took one step in that town the people would scatter in fear.

Not...like he blamed them.

Between his preferences and his hobbies, he often felt...alone.

Even amongst his brothers, but maybe...he didn't have to be as alone anymore?

"Indeed, this is a task I can take well in hand." He proclaimed. And he saw your ears perk up.

"You can! Oh thank you!"

Pyrus held up his gauntleted hand, he may be about to ask something...much in return, but he would not get your hopes up or lie to you.

"But...I must ask for one more thing in return."

You waited, unsure of what he'd ask for, but you'd gotten this far.

"The truth is...it is quite Lonely, below the waves." He began, now himself feeling awkward. "I hold each of my brother close to my heart but...we do not share the same interests."

"As your mother yearns for the sea, I yearn for a connection I cannot obtain within it." Pyrus continued. "So I wanted to ask, if I grant you this request of your heart, would you grant me mine?"

You tilted your head. What could you offer the heart of an Astarte?

Pyrus squared his shoulders, he would do this right! Even if it was sudden. "Dear child of the land...would you join me beneath the waves, soothe my lonely heart, as I will soothe yours. You kindness and devotion have smitten me. If I grant you this favor, this is what I ask in return."

He...he what now?

You shook your head in confusion. "I'm...sorry, did you just ask me...to...Join you under the waves?"

Pyrus nodded, a bit worried about your tone. You didn't seem to like the idea.

"Yes, we Astarte possess the ability to change others into our kind. Granting the ability to live in the water as we do."

Well...shoot.

You didn't know how to respond. But, you didn't want to lie to him.

"I...um...I'm sorry." You replied. "I mean...your offer is Very flattering." Very flattering, an ungodly attractive and kind man just essentially...proposed to you out of nowhere???

"But...I have to say no." You stated. "As much as I love this place...it isn't my home. My home is back on the farm, with my mom and dad and our creatures...I can't just up and leave them. They Need me." You explained.

Oh...oh...Pyrus felt his dark skin flush with embarassment. Of course you couldn't just up and leave the family you cared so much for, what was he thinking!? Stupid Pyrus, absolutley stupid! "Oh..."

You saw his dejection, and you felt your heart twist. He really did seem so sweet.

"Hey," You entreated, getting his attention. "Even though I can't Live with you...I'd love to get to Know you."

Pyrus perked up a bit at that.

"We just met, so the living beneath the waves together isn't the best idea. I mean...what if we found out two weeks in we were terrible room mates." You jested, trying to lighten the mood.

Pyrus did feel a slight smile turn the corners of his mouth and he chuckled. "I...suppose that is true."

"But I do want to learn more about the ocean, and I'd be happy to come and visit! Heck, if possible we could even find a way for you to visit my home!" You offered.

Pyrus could sense your earnestness, and it made him so happy. A place where he'd already have a friend, and be able to explore without worrying about scaring others.

He felt a buzzing excitement light in him. But he kept his composure.

"I...would like that very much."

"Perfect! Then let's start with proper introductions." You held out your hand and shared your name to the marine.

Pyrus took your small hand in his, rejoicing in this new connection. "I am Pyrus, son of Vulcan," He stated. "And I will grant you this favor, in return that you will visit and teach me of your home, as I teach you of mine." He stated.

"You will return...won't you?" He asked softly, knowing he technically couldn't Force you to uphold this vow.

You smiled, and gestured for him to lean down a bit. He acquiesced.

"Mwah," You placed a sweet kiss on his forehead, causing the son of Vulcan to freeze in surprise for a moment.

"I do solemnly swear!" You stated proudly.

Pyrus felt that blush return, all about his face and neck. But again he reined in his response.

"Thank you, landling." He hummed returning his helm to his head, and taking the originally offered bundle of items.

Pickled fish skin was a rare treat, as was the vinegar oyster, and the horse hair was useful as string was difficult to come by underwater. He stowed these items away and turned toward the open sea.

"It will take some time to retrieve this coral. Please wait here until I return." He asked, and you nodded.

"I'll be here." You assured.

...

After a number of hours had passed, you were Really wishing Pyrus had given you a better idea of when he'd be back beside, some time.

Good lord you were bored. You'd forgotten to bring a book or journal or even a sketch pad. And you could only take so many naps in the shade before your body refused to fall back asleep.

At least the beach was peaceful, and you marveled at the shift from bright day, to hazy evening and finally the sunset-

Sunset.

That...that made you more worried.

But...it was probably fine. Pyrus and his brothers were out there, and if his brother's were anything like him, you'd have nothing to worry about.

As you sat back pondering these troubling thoughts, you saw a large shape begin to emerge from the water.

Your heart leapt, and you quickly stood up. Finally!

"Pyrus!" You called. "I'm so glad to see yo-"

The shape broke through the surface and your gut felt like a brick of ice dropped into it.

That...that wasn't Pyrus...

The sun's dipping rays illuminated the purple pink armor, rimmed with gold, as the unknown Astarte continued to advance, languidly drawing closer.

You didn't move. You almost couldn't bear to breathe.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Running might only make things worse...especially now that you were in his sights.

The Astarte emerged completely from the water, just off to one side of you. Unlike Pyrus who had come to you, talked to you, like an actual living being.

This one instead eyed you, and began circling you where you stood with a curiosity that felt...predatory. Swimming through the air in a way that felt so...targeted.

As if daring you to move...to flinch.

"Well...well....welllllll." The Astarte cooed with a sick glee in his voice, slightly modulated as it came through his helmet. "What have we heeeeere?"

Suddenly his hand shot out and grabbed your face roughly forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"A cute little saytr, all alone. How sad...how pitiful...how..." He hummed and the image of him licking his lips came to mind. "appetizing."

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

"Me? Ah pfft nope!" He responded nervously, as best you could with your chin in his grasp.

He seemed a bit stunned you could respond, but quickly recovered. "Oh? And why is that my little...morsel?"

Think fast think fast. "Ah I mean...have you actually ever Had horse meat? It's really not that good." You explained. "Mostly grisle and wirey muscle, very stringy, not at all appetizing." You stated, as if critiquing a five star dish. And one you'd never actually eaten, only hearing about it from others.

"PFFtt ha Ha HA!" Well you weren't sure if that was positive but you'll roll with it. His laughter had caused him to let go of your chin.

"And the torso bit isn't much better!" You continued. "Far too much adipose, and so low on nutrients. Dare I say you'd be better off eating sand and tree bark. At least then you'd been getting fiber."

The Astarte continued to laugh. Full on shaking cackles as you Slowly stepped back. "Oh My...you're quite funny." He said as he calmed, and removed his helmet.

Beneath you saw a beautiful but terrifying appearance. His face was pale, his eyes a luxurious but cold looking purple with unnaturally shaped pupils.

His Teeth. Sharp, fanged, with marks on his chin you weren't sure if they were makeup or...blood trails from previous meals.

And his hair...it wasn't hair. It was long tendrils with sharp mouthed ends. Like a Medusa but with carnivorous eels instead of snakes.

"Oh go ahead, enjoy the visage~" He cooed, brushing back his...locks. "I'll allow it since you entertained me. Most land folk just scream and cry and beg for their lives. Not nearly so entertaining after a while."

You swallowed dryly. "I mean...why lose your sense of humor am I right?" You shrugged nervously, still carefully working your way back.

You couldn't outrun him, but maybe you could keep him distracted till-OOf!

You suddenly found yourself pinned to the sand, the large Astarte floating above you.

Those eyes, those eyes, they looked down at you with a sadistic glee, as his hair fanned out in different directions.

"Ah, ah A-ah~." He sing-songed. "Tsk, tsk, I didn't say you could leave. How Rude to try and break from a conversation without proper decorum."

He held you down effortlessly with one hand, Just hard enough to be uncomfortable. The other tapped your nose as if you were a naughty child.

"Hmm~ Well, this has been fun." He conceded. "But I really Am hungry, and I think a sweet little treat like you, would just perfectly Hit the Spot~" His jaw unhinged, revealing a second set of jaws behind the first, as his eely locks began swarming revealing their own nashing teeth.

"And the Sweetest part will be your screams! Please be as loud as you can! It makes the meal even more thrilling!" He chortled planting his other hand in the sand next to your head.

You couldn't move, the pressure was too much, but you did still have your satchel.

You reached in feeling the small bottle of vinegar you'd brought. You grasped it tightly and in one quick motion, broke the bottle into his face!

"RWAGGGG!" He cried and hissed as the glass and acidic liquid went into his eyes, causing him to rear back.

You scrambled away as his hands came up to his face, he fumbled over to the sea water, desperately splashing it into his eyes and dipping his face.

"You little Whore!" He snarled, still doubled over, his eyes and face had blood running down them.

CRACK!

That...that move had been pure adrenaline. You capitalized on his weakness and disbelief, cracking him square in the face with a downward kick.

Now blood ran over his mouth from his broken nose, as he sputtered and choked.

You did it again, rapid repetitive strikes with your hooves.

CRACK! SPLASH! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

You might've even broken some of his teeth.

Still flush with rage and adrenaline, you shouted. "How's that taste you deep sea, punk ass fish breath Bitch!"

Only to Immediately remember what you were up against when the marine caught your next strike.

"WOAH!" You suddenly found yourself upside down, looking up at your attacker as he held you by the leg.

The blood made his expression even more deranged as he smiled, oh no.

"AAAAH-O-OOF!!! Next thing you knew you were being flung away and down like a rag doll, right into the middle of the beach. Even on sand the impact knocked the wind from your lungs, and you worried briefly about broken ribs.

Briefly because you saw the violent violet marine approaching, stalking toward you like a cat hunting a mouse. You scrambled to your feet though it hurt.

Everything hurt.

You stepped back slowly as the marine advanced, enjoying your rapidly deteriorating courage.

He towered above you. "I'm going to enjoy, ripping you apart piece by piece." He said lashing out with his claws. It left a shallow but long and stinging cut on your face. You stumbled back.

"I'm going to enjoy Flaying your skin inch by inch." He laughed lapping the fresh blood from his claws.

He raised them again as you had nowhere left to go. No hope of escape. You braced for the worst.

"And I'm going to Relish keeping you alive as I Devour you -OUGh!"

His speech was cut off as a blur of green and orange suddenly burst from the ocean, tackling your assailant.

Even in the more dim light you saw the red helmet lenses, the burning firey veins on that molten rock like tail. And you saw the steam rising from the grappling marines.

"Ah-ah-ah AHhhhhAh!" The purple marine actually shrieked as the the coils smothered and burned him. You could smell the burning fish flesh...

The gauntleted arm of the second marine held his head in a vice grip headlock. The purple marine struggled and slashed and bit, with both his limbs and his living hair.

But soon his struggles weakened and ebbed into nothing, the last tremoring shakes of life as he finally stilled.

There was a moment of pause before the green marine made a sudden swift jerk.

You heard a sickening crack! And the purple marine'a body dropped to the sand.

Limp.

Lifeless.

You could see the green marine's heaving breaths.

You hoped you weren't wrong this time. "P-pyrus?" You asked hesitantly.

The marine did not answer verbally, but instead reached into his pack, and pulled out a fist size lump of coral.

Your mother's coral.

You couldn't believe your eyes.

"Pyrus!" You cried jumping past the object and wrapping your arms around your Astarte.

You pushed and nuzzled into his chest plate. Rubbing your head up and down it in glee. "I knew you'd come back!"

Pyrus removed his helmet with his free hand and dropped it, before leaning down and bringing his arm around you.

He nuzzled close to you, feeling your skin and heartbeat. The same precious heartbeat he'd been seconds away from never hearing again. "I'm so sorry! Had I known, I would've protected you better. I thought you were safe here."

He'd need to contact his captain and chapter master. A Chaos marine making it this far in their territory, could not and would not be tolerated.

But for now he brought his large hand to your face examining the damage.

It was then you realized you'd rubbed your bloody cheek on his chest plate.

"Oh! Sorry."

"Thanks." You sighed, utterly exhausted. You did take the coral from Pyrus, examining it closely.

"No...you have nothing to apologize for." Pyrus assured. He even noted the Slannesh marine's broken nose and teeth. His hearts swelled with pride. "You fought well, Here."

You hesitated for a moment, as Pyrus leaned down, only to relax when he simply laved his tongue over your cheek.

His saliva soothed the sting of your cut, helping the wound close.

"Its even more beautiful in the water." He stated, noting your fondness. "I would love to show you when you next visit...if you wish to."

He wouldn't blame you for not wanting to.

Instead, you smiled, tired but genuine. "I'd like that very much...and hey, maybe with the right prep, my mom and dad could see it too."

Pyrus smiled. "I will help in whatever way I can, to make it a reality." He assured nuzzling you again.

You both stood there, watching the waves crest and roll in the newly fallen night.

You could go back into town, find a inn to stay at, but you didn't fancy being alone.

"Pyrus, is there somewhere...we can stay the night together?"

The marine seemed surprised by your request, but nodded. "Of course, follow me."

He led you a little ways down the beach, to a sheltered cave where sand met surf.

It would've been cold in the night, if not for the living heater that coiled around you as you settled in for sleep.

As you laid down, you felt a great peace overcome you.

"Sleep now my dear child of land." He cooed, petting your head. "I will guard you."

You smiled and cuddled into him. "And I will keep you -yaaaawn- from feeling too alone."

Outside the waves and winds rolled in. The brine of the sea carried inland, as the seabirds hunkered down in their nests.

The horses rested safe in their pens, and the winds gently waved the leaves of the trees.

And two lonely souls rested well, as they didn't feel so alone anymore.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #c u ckoo anon #salamander oc #oc: pyrus #x reader #mermay #mermay 40k

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eljeebee · 4 months ago

Text

An old thing

Vladislaus stared at the painting.

He was deep in his paperwork when Caleb barged in his office with a package in his arm, and a letter in his other hand. He thanked him before the Vatore left his office.

He opened the letter first. It wrote,

Overlord Straud, Lana wanted to write this letter to you, but I knew she would write unpleasant things instead. I forced her to give the pen and paper to me. Anyway, we made a dedicated team tasked to search for our old belongings. Some would be kept by either of us, while the rest would be put up for auction. The team was able to retrieve this painting. Lana wanted to keep this for herself, but Lenora and I thought it would be best to give it to you instead. After all, this is your family. I promised you. We’re giving this to you free of charge. Please take good care of it. Regards, Valentina Asvang

He remembered taking a deep breath. He remembered his fingers twitching when taking the package from one of the armchairs Caleb had left it on. He remembered slowly going up the stairs, and he remembered taking it to his room.

Then, he took it out of its huge box. An old thing.

He hung the old thing outside his room, on that blank space on the wall.

And then he stared at the painting. The music coming out of Caleb and Helen’s room faded as his vision tunneled towards the painting.

This old thing…

His trance was broken when Helen stepped out of her room. He took a quick glance at her; she smiled. He smiled back, before turning his attention to the painting.

Helen stood beside him, curious about the thing he was looking at.

“Hey, that’s you, Dad,” Helen said, pointing.

Vladislaus chuckled. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Who are they?” Helen asked. She gestured at the woman in red, and the boy beside her.

Vladislaus glanced at her. How would she react?

“The boy looks like you,” Helen noted.

“Indeed, he is,” he replied, “he has her mother’s eyes, however.”

“Yeah, I can see that…” Helen nodded. “Mother, huh? Hmm. Is she your wife?”

It took him a moment to reply. “She is.”

“And that would make the boy your son,” Helen deduced.

He nodded. “That would make Hugo your older brother, my child.”

“Would that make her my mother then?” Helen asked. Chuckling, “Just kidding. I know how I came to be. You picked me up in a random alleyway.”

Vladislaus shook his head, relieved that the memory they’d implanted still holds. “Yes. Mhm. But still, she would be a good mother to you.”

Helen nodded, “She’s beautiful. She…she looks familiar.”

“She’s the eldest sister of Lenora and Lana.”

“Woah, no shit?” Helen let out a laugh. “No way. How is she? Annoying like Lana? Nonchalant like Lenora?”

“Nothing like them,” Vladislaus smiled a little. “A queen. That’s what she is.”

They looked at it once more.

“Do you miss them, Dad?”

He didn’t answer at first. He continued, gazing at the painting.

“I do. I miss them, Helen. Especially Hugo. My son is her greatest gift for me.”

Helen hugged him. “Wherever they are, I know they miss you too. They love you, Dad. I love you.”

Vladislaus embraced her.

“What’s wrong boy?”

Hugo inhaled. “Hello, Lady Priestess…”

“You’re deep in thought,” she stood beside him, “what’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” Hugo grumbled.

“It’s not nothing. You’re thinking of your father, aren’t you?”

He sighed.

“I could see it; it’s written all over your face, my dear.”

“I miss him,” Hugo murmured.

“And you want to see him.”

He hummed.

“Not yet,” the Priestess said. “Not now. Too soon.”

“You always say that,” Hugo frowned. “When is now? When is it soon?”

“An old ally of your father is alive, Hugo. He must die before you reunite with the Overlord,” she said.

“Can’t we kill him? Can’t you?”

“We must let the actors play their roles,” the Priestess says. “I can do it in theory, but I vowed to Vladislaus never to step in. Remember who I was, Prince Hugo.”

“The Tiebreaker. The Vampire Hermit,” Hugo said. “You’ll only fight when you know it’s time.”

She nodded. “Now is not the time.”

Hugo sighed.

A beat of silence.

“Tell me one of your mage tales, please?”

She chuckled. “Come inside, then.”

#i apologize with the dark lighting by the 7th pic #i wasn't mindful of the in-game time when shooting this #vladislaus straud #codename: son is ->#hugo straud #helen straud #codename: high priestess #Beneath #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 vampires #sims 4 story #ts4 #ts4 vampires #ts4 story #simblr

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spleenandmoxrkoolstumb · 2 months ago

Text

i’m not sure if I talked about this before, but since I’ve officially lost motivation for the rest of the Storyvirus au I’ll just explain the rest in a summary and you can imagine it

basically after duchess gets bitten, Duke find professor and tries talking to him to see if there’s antidote for it (which there isn’t yet) and duchess gets throw cause they haven’t found antidote yet, and both of them figure out they’re not the only ones who’s had people that were bitten.

Edgar and Isabel (I think was her name) come in with Lenora infected, as she is throw into the cage next door to duchess, and as all 4 of them stay as it is raining hard outside, Duke is determined to find a cure to this. Professor tries to talk him out of it because “it’s to dangerous to go out considering the rain”, but Duke didn’t care. He would solve what’s going on. Professor gives up on stopping him, so he gives him an umbrella and a book bag with the following supplies: a poet’s empty book, a pen, a small bottle to hold the antidote in, and a gun.

as Duke goes out to find it with the umbrella above him, he encounters a stage 4. The thing tried to run at him to attack, but just in time, Duke pulled out the gun and shot it. He was about to go continue, but then something about the thing caught his eye. The strands of hair that was falling out of the things head was… brown… he looked more carefully, as the hair wasn’t only brown, but had some kind of wolfy texture to it. Then Duke realized, it was Bernard.

Bernard had been missing for a while and nobody knew how he went missing, or where he was now, till now. Duke knew. So he took out the book and pen and wrote the following:

“I found Bernard, he was infected.”

The duke went on to find the antidote, and the more he went, the more he knew. Once he found out something important that could have something to do with the infection, he would go to investigate it, and that place? That place was the witch’s hut.

as he went inside, he saw that the infection was caused by a red, slimy worm parasite. He got close, but not to close, to look closely of how this was made. He couldn’t find anything. He then saw the recipe book the witch left out, and he looked inside and had the recipe the infection itself had. The recipe said:

“How to make danger happen:

Wrath

Flesh

Death”

Wrath, Flesh and Death? What could that mean? He decided to think, what’s the opposite of Wrath? The opposite of Flesh? The opposite of Death? Then he knew. Joy, Health and Life. That had to be it! So as he did the spell, the antidote turned to a greenish blue color, he grabbed the small bottle from earlier and scooped it up from the cauldron, and he left with it. But there’s one thing he left - his book.

as he saw the witch come over, he hid behind a tree watching her walk in. He thought he was safe.

she walked in as she had some more Wrath to feed to the infection. As she was going to make more of the infection, she caught the greenish blue color it had. Someone had been in her house. And she caught the book beside her, and she knew it wasn’t her recipe book. She opened it, and saw all the stuff he wrote down. The handwriting was familiar, the sounding of the writing sounded familiar. She knew who’d been in her house, the duke. She stormed out, holding his book with a type of virus that brings you IMMEDIATELY to stage 5.

as the Duke was walking, she appeared behind him immediately. She scolded him about the fact he was in her house, and threw the book back to him. But Duke talked back about her trying to curse the village with a deadly son of a, if you don’t mind me typing this in, BITCH. She got mad and the Duke and the witch had a battle, think of it as like a boss battle.

after she loses the first time, she decides to pull out the antidote she was holding and stabs the syringe in her leg, turning her into a beast. And of course, he wins again. as he goes back, he gives the professor the antidote and explains to everyone what happened to Bernard, as he explained himself. The duchess was healed, Lenora was healed, a lot of people were healed from this. He then gets out the book and pen he was given, and writes the following:

“I’ve made a risky decision about going out while it was raining and infected… but at least it was worth it.”

#storyteller #storyteller game #storyvirus #duke #infection au

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idiotlovesongs · 2 years ago

Text

The Letters pt. 5

tw drug use

Will flipped the page to the next letter and was a little taken aback by how messy the handwriting was. Mike already didn’t have the best handwriting; It was loose and sharp all at the same time and the letters were kept tightly together, huddled for safety and warmth. Now, Will looked down at the words and frowned. The letters were connected, but not like in cursive. It was more so like Mike just didn’t pick up the pen when he moved on to the next letter. It was careless. He also noticed how much more often words were scratched out. It made him nervous about what Mike had to tell him.

Dear Will,

I have something to tell you. It’s a secret though. I’m seriously praying the government, or, even worse, my parents, doesn’t open this letter.

I’m, like, really high right now.

I made friends with a dealer a while back. Really he’s more of Dustin’s friend and he runs a DnD group. Dustin and Lucas were here with a few of his friends, but they went home. His name isn’t super important right now. Whatever.

I’m here with him, so you don’t have to worry at all. It’s all good.

There was a little burn mark at the edge of the page between these two lines.

Should I be writing to you right now? Would it even be a good idea to send this? This is a bad idea, but I’m committed now. Fuck it.

The night started out good. He set up a one-shot for us. Don’t hate me for playing DnD without you. Honestly, that was the closest thing to being with you without actually flying to you. I kept looking at where you would sit in my basement (next to me) and getting pissed when it was some random guy. Why couldn’t it have been you? You should have known we were playing and then teleported. Will the Wise would have been able to.

Anyways, this DM is fucking brutal. He shows absolutely no mercy. I think he gets a kick out of watching us fail saving throws. I got a nat 1 at some point! Will, I feel like I brought shame to our party. We really needed you back here. You should sneak out, hop on a plane, and meet us here.

Do you even want to? You have a good life in Lenora. All that’s left is to find a new party, right? How hard could that be? Just hang out in a comic book shop enough and one will walk in looking for a cute wizard or cleric and there you will be, looking at the newest issue of Daredevil.

Promise you’ll come back for at least one game? God, I sound desperate. Ignore me.

Okay, so something not about DnD.

After the game, we were offered some weed. It wasn’t like he pressured us or anything. It was really casual. He pulled out his metal lunchbox and asked if we wanted to smoke. Lucas can’t because of basketball and Dustin was too freaked out to try. Most of his friends had to head out so they declined too. Now, I’m here with his bandmates, and the air smells really fucking bad, and I’m kind of freaking out, but that’s normal. He said weed either makes people loosen up or freak.

I hate how it feels. Kinda. It’s like all my limbs are corkscrewing at different speeds, in different directions, and through different dimensions. He tells me I have to relax and lean into it. ‘It’s like floating in a pool. You have to relax or you’ll drown.’ It’s really hard to let go. I keep trying by just thinking of stuff, but my train of thought keeps veering off the tracks. I feel like if I don’t correct its course, it’s gonna just crash and burn. I don’t think this is for me.

I can’t really go home right now either. I’m pretty sure I reek. Although maybe my parents wouldn’t notice. I can imagine exactly how me walking in would go down if they couldn’t smell it on me.

“Hey, mom, dad,” I say as I walk in.

“Hi, sweetie. How did hanging out with your friends go?” My mom is on the couch with Holly while my dad is on the recliner. He doesn’t even bother to look up, just hums.

“It was fine. I’m tired though.” I’m already on my way to the stairs so she can’t trap me in a conversation.

“Okay. Goodnight, honey.” She looks over to my dad like she’s trying to make him lift his head up with his mind.

“Goodnight.”

And then the smell of marijuana reaches them and I’m sent to live on a farm with my uncle Eric in Montana. I think they would just ship me over in a cardboard box.

Whoa. It just started pouring out of nowhere. Maybe if I stood outside in the rain, the smell would wear off faster. He said it wouldn’t and laughed. I think I want to die.

Will, Will, Will, Will, I don’t know what else to say. I’m spacing. I’ll just call my parents and stay here I think. It’ll be embarrassing in the morning, but that’s a problem for the future. I don’t think I can write another sentence. I just did. And another. Okay, I’m done. Don’t tell anyone about this. I hope this letter doesn’t also smell.

Will leaned down a moment and sniffed the letter. He winced and confirmed that it did smell vaguely like weed.

Love, Mike

P.S. I think the munchies might be fake. I’m nauseated right now.

P.P.S. Don’t be worried. I swear I’m fine. I just really need to sleep this off.

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

#byler #byler ficlet #byler fanfic #mike x will #will x mike #mike wheeler #mike wheeler centric #will byers #miwi

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imfluentinfangirlandgay · 1 year ago

Text

Casting Pearls Before Time - Ch 4

Six months after suddenly reappearing, Ingo encounters someone he thinks he remembers. Only problem is, he can't remember anything before he returned to Unova, so it's hard to say

Words: ~2000

Emmet was beginning to feel bad dragging Pearl around the entire region. The poor thing was looking exhausted and confused all the time now.

Her language lessons had yielded tiny results! She was able to ask simple questions and make small statements like her age and ask where the bathroom was. Now, she'd look at anything and everything, pointing and asking "What is that?" like a small child in a museum. Ingo usually responded in Sinnohan and then Galarian, and she would do her best to copy.

This time, they were taking a smaller train to Nacrene City. Less people came out this way, and that seemed to have a positive effect on Pearl. Emmet hoped she wasn't going to be too exhausted after this.

The train ride was smooth, getting off and leaving the station went as well as it could have, and getting to the museum was a piece of cake. They went inside and informed the receptionist they were there to see Lenora, who directed them to the back of the building. Pearl gazed in awe at the fossilized skeletons mounted in the museum. Ingo tugged her along to the back of the museum, through the door and into the laboratory.

A blue-haired woman stood in the lab, wearing a coat and leaning over a desk, peering through a microscope as she scribbled onto a piece of paper.

Emmet cleared his throat to get her attention. She whirled around, goggles resting over her eyes. Once seeing who it was, she put down the pen and removed her goggles, smiling. "My my, the famed Subway Bosses! And what might I do for you this fine afternoon?" She shed her lab coat and walked forward, her hands on her hips.

"Hello again, Lenora!" Emmet smiled at her.

"Good morning, Lenora!" Ingo greeted. "We have a question for you."

"Oh? And what might that be?" She tossed her hair out of her face. There were red marks on her face where the goggles had sat.

"We have a friend here with amnesia. She only speaks some form Sinnohan that Clay says is a dead language. We were wondering if you had some kind of book or something that might describe more about it." Ingo translated all of Emmet's words to Pearl.

"Hmm… Sinnoh, you say? I have plenty of books about Unovan languages- wait a second." She bustled off through another door. Emmet immediately went to follow her, even though he was not invited.

It was a library. Books stretched from floor to ceiling, easily two stories high. Lenora was up on a ladder, hurriedly looking through the books. She selected one, flipped to a page, scrunched up her nose, and reshelved it. This happened a few more times before she kept the book she held, climbing back down the ladder with it under her arm. Back on the ground, she flipped a couple pages, and then stared. "I always thought this form of Sinnohan was weird. Here, little lady, can you read this?"

Though she did not fully understand the question, Pearl looked at the text and her eyes lit up with recognition. She began to read the text aloud - or so Emmet presumed. She could have just made it up for all he knew.

His twin also looked at the page. "Yes, this looks familiar. It's a book talking about ancient battle strategies-" He abruptly stopped, staring at the page.

"Ingo?"

"I remember this."

"Hm?" Emmet peeked over the blue spine of the book and saw a bunch of scribbles on the page with a diagram.

"These moves… I remember this. Battling with different types of moves."

"Like normal or fighting? Physical or special?" Lenora asked.

"No, not like that. For each move, there is an option to use it in the 'agile style' or the 'strong style'. Agile style would use more focus and delivered smaller blows, but it always made the user move faster. Strong style used quite a bit of focus as well and moved slowly, but it was an all-out attack." Ingo looked at the page again. "The text is describing what these attacks are and how pokemon use them. The pages are very faded and it seems quite old…"

"I believe the first version of that text was written in the 1700s," Lenora supplied. "That's odd though. Those battle styles have been unheard of for centuries. When did you say you used them?"

"Sometime during my absence." Ingo shook his head, handing the book to Pearl, who was still reading. "I wish I could just remember."

"We are on the trail, brother," Emmet soothed. "Hopefully soon you will."

"I hope so. I am so tired of not remembering."

—------

Another night in with pizza. Pearl's sickness did not seem to he affecting her so much as she grew used to their diet in Nimbasa. Was she vegan before now? He hoped she wasn't sacrificing her preferences just for them.

He mulled over the information from that day. Lenora had been kind enough to lend them the book from their personal collection. Pearl was currently pouring over it, eyes flicking over the pages.

Ancient battle techniques… dead language… Clay's hat… it felt like he was just missing one piece of the puzzle that would make everything make sense. What was he missing?

He sat on the couch with Ingo, watching a rerun on Jeopardy. Emmet was lost in thought, not even listening to the show.

Perhaps Pearl was older than she seemed? That was unlikely, she had admitted she was nineteen. It was a little ironic she could remember her age but not her name, but Emmet would not judge.

Maybe she was from an older village in Sinnoh that followed tradition? But then how did she end up in Nimbasa with no memory?

He opened his internet app on his phone and looked up 'oldest locations in sinnoh'.

The top one was some ruins on Mount Coronet. Then was a town with some ruins in a cave… maybe that was something?

He walked over to Pearl and tapped her shoulder, making her look up. He showed her the phone. "Do you recognize this?"

She scrolled the website. She looked at the photos of the buildings and shook her head. He was about to take the photo away when she suddenly grabbed his arm again, swiping back to a particular photo.

It was of a mural in a cave, of three small creatures floating in a triangle around some object. She furrowed her brows as she studied the photo. She pointed at it, but did not say anything. Did she recognize it?

He tapped on the photo for the description.

[A mural depicting three pokemon surrounding a chain-like object. It is hypothesized that this is marking the event of the three Spirits Azelf, Mesprit, and Uxie creating the human spirit thousands of years ago.]

"Hey, Ingo, come look at this." Ingo jerked from his thoughts and stood, walking over to Pearl's other side to look at the photo. "It seems like Pearl recognized it."

He scrutinized the photo and read the description. "Something about that seems familiar, but not that painting. Perhaps I saw another like it at some point."

Emmet shrugged and went back to the couch, scrolling still. Next on the list was Mount Coronet. Nothing else seemed right. Emmet sighed, annoyed.

Next, he looked up 'sinnoh history' and clicked on the first website.

It had a long description of wars between two native groups, the immigration of settlers in the middle 17th century, and the development of modern technology.

One fact caught his eye. Something about the deity of the ancient peoples, being referred to as 'Almighty Sinnoh'. Emmet's eyes widened as he got hit with a memory he'd forgotten he had.

He and Ingo lazed on the couch, flipping through channels. It landed on Jeopardy. Just to annoy his brother, Emmet flicked the channel again, only to be met with a hand in his face and the remote being removed from his hand. “Hey! I like that show!” Emmet grinned behind his brother’s scolding but did not comment as the show changed back. Ingo’s hand retracted as he tucked the remote safely away from Emmet’s grasp as they listened to the show. It was nothing astounding. One fact did make him nod satisfactorily, though.

“For 300 points!” the host shouted obnoxiously, “What was the region of Sinnoh named after?”

A buzzer sounded. The accompanying contestant asked, “What is the founder of Sinnoh?”

Two blips overhead, signaling an incorrect answer. “That is incorrect, unfortunately,” the host said, shaking his head in mock sympathy. “The real answer is…” The card flipped on the screen. “The ancient deity that the natives worshiped.”

“Interesting,” Ingo said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It normally is some settler’s name or other important figure, but I suppose that is as good a reason to name a region as any.”

Emmet nodded, sneakily grabbing the remote from behind his brother and flicking the channel again. “Yes it is.”

Well now he was curious. What was it called before Sinnoh? He typed the question into the search bar-

Wait.

[The region we know as Sinnoh today was not always called this. In fact, it was only renamed about 150 years ago after the feudal clans stopped warring and unified. Before this, it was called 'Hisui' by the locals. It is said they renamed the region to signify a new beginning with the settlers that had been moving into the region to escape economic and political instability in other regions.]

"Ingo," Emmet breathed, "what was the name of the region you say you came from?"

"Hisui," Ingo answered without hesitation. "Why?"

Emmet did not answer as he continued scrolling down the page. The article went on to talk about how the first pokedex was filled and he stopped paying attention.

"Emmet?"

He opened a new tab and researched 'agile strong style' and clicked the first link.

[The agile and strong styles of pokemon moves were a popular way to end pokemon battles quickly or to make them more fun for those involved. It reached the peak of its popularity between the 1750s-1858 in Sinnoh, and was all but completely forgotten by the year 1900.]

"Emmet? What are you doing?"

He opened a third tab and typed in 'ancient sinnoh people'.

[For many generations, two groups made up the entire population of Sinnoh, the Diamond Clan and the Pearl Clan. For centuries, the two Clans' opposing religious views placed them at odds with one another, commonly resulting in battles and sometimes wars between the two. Both Clans were only united in one thing: their fear of the wild pokemon that roamed the wilds.]

"Emmet, talk to me. What is going on?" Emmet looked up to see Ingo above him, both of his brother's hands on his shoulders. His eyes were flicking back and forth between Emmet's, worry clouding his gaze. Pearl was watching them from the dining room table, her brow pinched.

"Ingo," Emmet drawled, "I think… I think I found out where you went."

His eyes widened and he released Emmet as if burned. "Emmet?"

His voice was shaking as he showed him the phone screen. "Hisui," he said, his hand barely able to hold the device, "was the original name for the region of Sinnoh given by the natives. That was changed over a hundred and fifty years ago." Ingo's eyebrows knit together as he watched Emmet.

"Ingo, how the hell did you end up two hundred years in the past? And how in Arceus's name did you get back?"

[First] - [Previous] - [Next]

#submas #subway boss ingo #subway bosses #pokemon legends arceus #my writing #ingo #pokemon #subway boss emmet #clan leader irida #pokemon irida #pokemon lenora

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brionysea · 2 years ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/foodiewithdahoodie/716996704083361792 this post is more about familial mlvn parallels but it made me think of the max/Mike curse parallels, esp considering that what’s happening to Max after the fact is a vision and I’m like….kind of connecting that to what happened around Mike in season 4 being a manifestation but I Can’t Articulate it. Anywho yeah thought u would enjoy

UMMMM HELLO???? I AM LOOKING DIRECTLY AT IT (x)

i was thinking about what a pre-season 4 mike's vecna visions would look like recently, and that scene with el would literally fit right in. his girlfriend who he cares for but Not Like That trying to pry an answer out of him about why he can't say he loves her? getting defensive and making her cry? having to go against the friends don't lie rule to protect himself? like. i am... hhhh no thoughts just chaos. all you'd have to do is tweak it a bit so that el Inexplicably Knows Everything and hates him for it, being representative of his own negative thoughts towards himself, and it would fit right in with the canon visions from season 4 (mike mouthing off included, because let's be real, he'd do that to vecna's face too). leaving it to play out the way it did plays more into the advantage of a subtle slow burn so that he can't figure out anything's going on too soon, which, if you're going to mess with mike wheeler's head, you need because he's just too smart

california was kind of a nightmare scenario for mike before anything even went "wrong". he had to pretend to be someone he's not, somehow try to be normal with both el and will in the same place, and then el gets hurt and it's kind of his fault ("if you say so" before the music gets turned off and el gets knocked down, which still makes me lose my MIND), then the fight with will, and el schmacking a bully after the boys were unable to track her down fast enough to prevent that and all the drama afterwards... dude's not having a good time. he had no power there, which is the fastest way to get to him, as seen by his rambling about how useless he is and the clear impact that sense of powerlessness (very ironic) has on his mental state. and i'm staring so hard at how weird everything at rinkomania (rink of madness) was, and how disconnected our three characters' perspectives seem to be from each other, and how mike looked confused by will's version (aka our version) of events but was too busy trying to run away from that confrontation of having to vocalise his own feelings to even clarify what he was confused by or what his version of events looked like, which brings what they're both experiencing into question (mike not even looking in will's direction when he rolled his eyes but somehow seeing it anyway — what else aren't they showing us about mike's version by hiding behind will's?). there are those behind the scene photos floating around of noah schnapp at rinkomania in will's desert outfit. idk, i don't trust that place at all

when it comes to season 4 being a manifestation, it's like... this is just my interpretation, but it's pretty clear to me that the curse would be mike's excuse to literally face his demons. it was the Main Event. even when he was shipped away from hawkins and separated from that plot device, he was still trying to sort everything out in his head, which would've ironically been much easier for him to do if he was in a situation like max's — he gives me "only i'm allowed to hate myself, if anyone else does it i'm throwing hands" vibes. but mike still had some influence over things going on in lenora (like the aforementioned "if you say so" demonstrated by angela just ceasing to matter at all after mike called her a nobody) and in the general... area, idk american geography, like suzie's house and the pen with the coordinates and wherever the nina bunker was. i haven't thought about how argyle and the pizza chain plays into this but they might be manifested too (something about the restaurant expanding into nevada and how impressively wide mike's range is —there's no way that russian prison's real — and argyle as like the one person in season 4 just telling someone to "not lie"). el says "i'm real" at the very end of the season when she's with max, which makes me question if she went from "not real" to "real" during her season 4 side plot instead of in season 3. it would make sense since she really starts heading into her independence era once she leaves brenner behind and most likely after the end of season drama with mike, and max and dustin's similar journeys from an Idea of independence (while still circling mike/the party) to Acting on that independence (dustin getting his own side plot after breaking away from the party and max talking about free will while going against mike's wishes) seem to span 2 seasons as well

it's fascinating to me that even with mike as the lynchpin to all this, the main event doesn't follow him. it stays in hawkins. it's not even like the curse is a thing, and the curse also follows mike. it leaves him alone, even with the symptoms that did follow him. it (supposedly) never goes past a nosebleed at dinner and a headache at suzie's house. is that because he's made a mental connection between all his inner angst and his hometown (the smalltown boy agenda), or is it just a result of trying to sideline himself because he thinks he's unimportant? is it because there's no point in opening a gate with his death if he's all the way across the country? wouldn't that be better for vecna's plans of remaking the world? is he just not as willing to put the byers (including el) at risk as he is the hawkins NPCs? or was he actually losing his mind all season and we just didn't know because his perspective was cut off from us?

#inbox #manifestation theory #stranger things #mike wheeler #i had to think on this ask for a while #many thoughts to be thunked #st posting

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romanticsanthem · 2 years ago

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Will Byers: The connection and the letters.

originally posted on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/41130420

“Guys, we can’t do that” Mike said, his voice on the brink of yelling.

“If Will was the connection, that’d be the only way to cut all ties to the upside down to our world” Dustin spoke out, you can tell it pained him to say that.

“We are not killing my brother” Jonathan yelled out, looking directly into Dustin’s eyes, making himself clear as daylight, Dustin felt intimated.

The party, minus Will and El, as well as the older kids sat in the Wheelers basement, awaiting news that could destroy their lives, friendships, their whole world.

Eleven sat in the wheelers bathroom, blindfolded, and with static playing, all while her brother sits on the ground, on the verge of a panic attack, ignoring the muffled talks outside of the bathroom.

Will really doesn’t want to die, he’s yet to do so much.

He’s never been outside of the U.S, he’s never made friends outside of Hawkins, he’s never gone on a date, he’s never had his first kiss, and most importantly he’s yet to tell Micheal Wheeler that he’s in love with him.

Suddenly, El gasped, and threw the blindfold to the side, panting, tears streaming down her face.

“Will.” She started, pulling her brother into a tight embrace, almost as if she let go he’d simply disappear into thin air.

“I’m sorry.”

Will understood what she meant, he knew that he was the connection all along, he just wished it didn’t come to this.

The Byers-Hopper siblings sat there, huddled up together, sobbing for what felt like hours, El muttering “I’m sorry” in between sobs.

Finally they had gotten up, eyes red and puffy, to go deliver the news to the others.

Once the pair arrived in the room, all arguments and shouting had come to a halt, all eyes on them.

Based on the look on their faces, Mike could tell the next sentence to come out of Eleven’s mouth was going to be a sentence he hated.

“Will.. is the connection” El muttered, looking down at her feet.

Will just observed everyone’s faces, a mixture of teary eyes and angry faces.

He was then pulled into a tight hug by Jonathan and soon the whole party was hugging, crying over the fact that their dear friend and brother, may no longer live past tomorrow due to circumstances they didn’t want to happen.

After awhile the they pulled apart from the hug, sitting around the Wheelers basement in silence.

Will broke the silence, “I need to do something, I’ll be back.” And he left the basement, feeling all eyes on him.

Will grabbed his notebook, a pen, a stack of envelopes and locked himself in the wheelers guest room, he was going to write letters to the people he cares about, if he was going to die he wanted them to know how much he truely loved them.

The first letter up was Lucas, his dear friend,

To Lucas,

I understand we didn’t really speak much whilst I was living in Lenora but I heard about you being on the basketball team, that’s awesome! I hope it brings you joy, I hope you know how much I care about you, I appreciated it when last summer you and max invited me to hang out with you two when I didn’t have anyone, I loved learning how to skate with you guys by the way. Meeting you and Dustin in the 2nd grade was one of my favorite memories, I hope you the party stays friends after this, I’d love that.

Please take care of yourself and Max, I know how much you love her.

Love, Will.

He folded up the paper and placed it neatly in an envelope.

Next up was Dustin.

To Dustin,

You were the one of the first people to make me not feel weird for being well different, and I’m glad. You were always the smartest one out of us four and I’m glad that you still have the same love for dnd that I have, even after all these years. Never change Dustin. By the way, we met suzie, she seems really nice and she helped us find El, so in my books, she’s just as awesome as you described her to be. I hope you guys get to see each other again.

I hope your doing alright, I heard about Eddie, I never met him, but from his description he sounded amazing and I would’ve loved to meet him. Take care Dustin.

Love, Will.

His eyes were already getting watery and he was only on the second letter. That’s pathetic he let out a small laugh.

He then went on to write a letter for Max, not as long as the others however still just as meaningful.

To Max,

I know we didn’t hang out much, however you were just as important to me as the rest of the party, you make Lucas and El incredibly happy and for that I’m so thankful, never stop be the sarcastic, yet caring friend I know. You included me in a time that I felt incredibly excluded, and I’m so glad to have met you.

Love,Will.

After writing a letter for his birth father, Lonnie, which to summarize, stated that he was a horrible father to will and how he wished they had a good relationship, however it was too late for that.

He then went on to write a letter for Hopper.

To Hopper,

Thank you for being there for my mom when I went missing, I will be forever grateful, in this life and the next. You make my mom so happy and I’m glad, she deserves someone as kind and caring as you, take care of her and El for me please? I wish I got to know you more as a father figure.

Love,

Will.

Next up we’re Jonathan and His mother, Joyce. He decided to write them one letter for the both of them.

To Mom and Jonathan,

You guys were the best family I could ever ask for, thank you both for raising me to be the best version of myself I could be. I however, have a confession to make, I’m gay.

I never told either of you directly not because I didn’t think you’d support, but because I was still figuring things out for myself, I know you’d support me.

Jonathan, please take care of mom for me, I understand this will be hard but it’s for the best and I truely do wish the best for you in life, I hope you get into that college you and Nancy want to get into.

Mom, please stay strong, I know this is difficult but I promise we’ll meet again someday, please make sure El has a nice time in high school, treat her as normal as possible please?

I love you both so much.

Love,

Will.

Tears were now streaming down his face, he hopes his family can move on with their lives afterwards.

Two more letters to go, El and Mike.

He decided to save Mikes letter for last.

To El,

Im so glad to have been known as your brother, I couldn’t be prouder. Ever since you saved the party, me included, from the upside I’ve been forever thankful. I hope you find true happiness and have a better time at school, I’m sorry for not defending you all those times, I regret that a lot.

I hope you and Mike can work things out, I know he’s not the best at expressing things but I hope you guys figure things out, romantically or platonically, I just want you to be happy.

Love,

Will.

And finally, Mikes letter.

To Mike,

The day we first met, was the best day of my life. I cherish that memory a lot. I’m so incredibly happy that I had you as my best friend. I apologize for saying this so late but it’s better you know this now rather than later.

Mike, I’m gay and I’ve been in love with you since we were eight.

I loved you even when we fought, which is why I didn’t like any girls, I liked you.

If I listed all the reason why I loved you so much it might take up the entire page, so here’s a few;

I love your black hair, especially the way it curls. I love your smile, the same smile that gave me butterflies often, I love your kind heart, the same heart that stuck with me while the mind flayer stuff occurred, crazy together right?

I hope you have a good life with El and the rest of the party, you truly are the heart.

Love,

Will.

1 MONTH LATER

Mike sat in his bedroom, Will is dead.

He’s been wallowing in his room all by himself for the past month, they won but at what cost?

He doesn’t know how he’ll live without Will being by his side.

The entire party was hurting, but it hit Mike twice as hard.

He’s yet to open the letter Will wrote for him, it hurt too much.

He sat at the foot of his bed, the letter in his lap, by the look of his face, it seems as though he hasn’t slept in days.

The grief had fully struck him by now, Will is dead, and never coming back. That thought kept replaying itself in his head, over and over again. He hated it.

He decided to finally open the letter, the moment he read the words on the page, his eyes started to watery, and that turned into a full blown sob.

“Mike, I’m gay and I’ve been in love with you since we were eight” He read that sentence, too many times to count.

Will loved him, Will loved him so much it was able to overlook all those times he acted like an asshole to Will, especially last year, he regrets that so much.

He wishes he could go back in time so desperately.

Mike ripped a piece of paper from his notebook, and sat at his desk and began writing.

Dear Will,

I’m sorry.

Im so so sorry for being an asshole to you, I’m sorry that I made you feel bad for not liking girls, I’m sorry for not realizing my own feelings so long ago. I love you too, Will.

I wish things didn’t end how they did, I wish you were still here.

I hope one day I’ll see you again, we’ll be reunited one day.

Love,

Mike.

Mike sobbed, like a full on ugly cry.

He stared at the paper before him, his tears dripping down on the letter.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to bounce back after this, but he knows he will, it’s what Will would want.

#byler fic #byler angst #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #st4 #jane hopper #jonathan byers

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writtenbylenora · 9 months ago

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#my money is on matthias #just to see how mad it makes kaz #crooked kingdom spoilers #if you squint #lenora’s pen #kaz brekker #matthias helvar #nina zenik #inej ghafa #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #six of crows #soc #grishaverse #polls #kanej #wesper #helnik

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beastswithoutburdencomic · 2 years ago

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transmutation as legitimate life trajectory: exposing implicit biases of the Wardview Hunters’ Guild

The recent bulletin posted by the Hunters’ Guild is perhaps the most transparent attempt at fearmongering which has been penned in recent months. If one were to believe the Guild, they would have no choice but to come to the conclusion that there is an epidemic of irresponsible witches roaming the streets of Wardview, transmuting any innocent bystander into something which is not human.

According to the Guild, there is no possible reason that citizens would choose transmutation; it is only the choice made by someone unsound of mind and/or under extreme duress.

Never mind the fact that there are historical documents dating as far back as the 1100s detailing how humans have chosen to shed their humanity.

In the European stage there were stories dating back to the time of Arthurian legends of individuals choosing to ‘Melion’ themselves, roaming the countryside as wolves for rites of passage; the Northern Song dynasty saw nobles choosing to live as birds to better understand how to transform the harmony of nature to the balance of the state; and the Oyo Empire saw the possibility of one of its alaafins turning into a spirit of lightning and flame (Murky Waters: The Line Between History and Mythological Heroes, Adeoye et al., 2021) .

Even if one disregards these accounts as mere fiction, one cannot disregard the myriad of memoirs penned either by the transmuted or someone recording the oration of the transmuted.

In Lenora Pavarichi’s Memoirs of a Wine Barrel, the transmuted, one formerly known as Theodori Medici, purportedly used the different flows of the wine inside its body to give voice to its new life experience (1548). Medici describes the religious devotion that led him to shed his humanity. “I have attained a state which the friars only dream,” stated the wine barrel, “It is a beautiful hollowing of vessel and self; the soul transcends where the hallowed shell remains. I know what Christ desired in asking the Apostles to drink of Him.”

Religious fervor is far from the sole reason for transmutation. There have been countless stories where runaways saw transmutation as a way to escape. While most stories end with the runaway choosing to return to human form, others, such as the account told by Maria Santos Primavera, has the runaway choosing to remain as something other than human (Harpy Tails: the History of Girls’ Flight from Life in the Abbey, Magboo, 2008). Primavera describes how the tawitawi doves were the sole familiar thing she saw when sent to live as a nun. “It was like a sign from home- one saying, come back, come see us, we will be as you left us.” (Harpy Tails, 2008).

While the hand of Spanish colonialism would, in effect, change everything, Primavera’s transmutation into a harpy bearing resemblance to her beloved tawitawi allowed her to hold onto a piece of her home. This is perhaps the most prevalent reason why humans have chosen to become something “Other” throughout the ages; searching for a sense of purpose, of belonging, and of home.

Is it any surprise, then, that there is an entire romance subgenre in circles within the Know where one lover changes their species to be with their love interest? One only needs to look at the local bookstore to find Leticia G. Smith’s Dram of Whiskey, a wildly popular historical romance set in the Jazz Age. It is a book where the protagonist, Ruthie Jean, must choose between continuing to make music in an industry that won’t recognize her talent or run away with her lover, known only as ‘Blue’, into the waters of the Mississippi as a riverdram. Considering the content of the rest of the article, you can imagine what Ruthie Jean’s ultimate decision is. This novel is itself one of Smith’s best selling works, outsold only by the academic reports of her cousins.

Transmutation for love isn’t solely in the bounds of fiction, however. If the Hunter’s Guild would only look back over its own interview logs, it would see that at least one of the recent transmutations- one only identifying himself as 化茧 (Hua Jian), and one identifying herself as 成蝶 (Cheng Die), both apparently speaking under the condition of anonymity- has done so specifically for this reason. After both consented to be transmuted into faeries, their testimony was given through the medium of flight pattern, spelling out the story of their families’ refusal to allow them to see each other. Rather than continue on in human society, they decided to take the plunge into transmutation together. Though they sometimes watch over their old human families from afar, both have expressed happiness in their choice. “Being in this [butterfly-esque] form is pretty much like a dream- now we can fill our days with each other.” (“Butterfly Dancers”, Wardview Review, May 202X).

I ask: where is the epidemic that the Hunters’ Guild is stirring moral panic over? By their own admission, all 23 of the suspected ‘forced transmutations’ have no curse placed on them to remain silent. No wizard has found evidence of magic tampering with their thought process. All 23 interviewed have spoken at length for their reasoning to shed their humanity, and yet the Guild is not satisfied. I ask: what would it take to satisfy the Guild’s extraneous interrogations?

And I answer: nothing. The Hunters’ Guild of Greater Wardview believes itself to be the arbiter of personhood; to them, humanity is the height of existence, and any deviation therein is to be met with skepticism. Many in Guild leadership cannot fathom a world where someone would choose to change their species because they cannot fathom a world where someone would refuse to be human.

As such, they feel they must dramatize the situation. They must fret over the paltry 27 transmutations which have occurred in Wardview because they are a number above zero. They must claim that all transmuted did so under duress, because otherwise, there would be no crime to hunt witches over. They must humanize all those transmuted and force them through the traumatic bureaucratic process of “legally” transmuting their species again to “protect” them.

In truth, the Guild only wants for there to be more humans in Wardview.

[The author of this article has asked to remain anonymous for their safety. The Wardview Review takes no responsibility for the content of this article.

To support the Wardview Review’s dedication to journalistic integrity, please read our webcomic. ]

#bwbcomic #comic supplemental #supernatural #original fiction #hunters' guild #wardview review

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wildflowercryptid · 2 years ago

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playing tott is making me think about a possible bokumono au with some pokémon characters...

i could see melony being a seamstress that wants gordie to take over the family business, but he decides to become an blacksmitch's apprentice to improve his metalworking skills instead. his true passion is jewelry-making and he actually has a huge following for his work on social media.

byron is said blacksmith and has a rivalry with melony, made even worse by him taking her son on as an apprentice. (no, they don't realize how similar they are and get mad at people even suggesting that to be the case.) his son, roark, is often found working in the local mines (which are owned by clay) to uncover gems and fossils. he's good friends with gordie and brings him extra materials to make jewelry with.

lenora runs the museum & library with her husband, which houses much of roark's and her own discoveries. cheren lives with her and has come to town to be a teacher, despite his own young age. lucian helps look after the library and is a big fan of the writer, shauntal, who he doesn't realize also lives in town due to her using a pen name.

zinnia is a mysterious local who's family has lived in town since before it was even founded, she usually hangs around the ruins found in the forest. it's later revealed that she's devoted to serving the harvest goddess and hopes to save the town from ruin by reawakening her, but she can't seem to help retore the goddess's power like the farmer can...

#i could go on but i will stop myself #the only reason why i didn't include milo is bc it was too obvious but he'd be there too #i feel like nessa might be too but i also kinda want to include lana? maybe she's an indie model who lives with them to feel more at home #idk it still needs workshopping #i am going back to playing tott bye bye #pokemon #au : pokémono #(name of the au in case i end up wanting to do more with it)#mj.txt

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talesfromthegreatwar · 1 month ago

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The story of a Nightingale: Chapter 3

Freedom... This is the word that comes to my mind now, as I dip my pen in ink and begin to write the first words of this chapter.

I had an extraordinary sense of relief as I stepped under the archway of the orphanage gates; I remember following the long string of children who were walking in a long column, two by two. And right in front of me there were even three girls holding hands because nobody wanted to go with me. But after a short while, Sister Lenora, the young nun who had taken a fancy to me, came to my side and took me by the hand. I looked at her curiously and then I saw her warm smile and her brown eyes staring at me lovingly. I smiled in my turn and squeezed tighter the warm hand that had chased away the few gloomy thoughts that had stained my joy of that winter morning. Our well-ordered and almost soldier-like column strode at a brisk pace across the bridge that crosses the Rumare Lake towards the large, richly ornamented gates of the Imperial City. Below us, the lake was rippling its waters softly and in some places, towards the shores, we could see frozen surfaces on which the freshly fallen snow formed some interesting structures. All the sky was pure blue, deep, and without a cloud to roam its depths. Only far to the south, a light mist seemed to tremble over the ancient woods, now immersed in heavy snow, which dominated the shores of Lake Rumare.

We entered the city which was dressed in a thick white mantle and in a magical silence, specific to mornings like this. It was a holiday day and the freshly fallen heavy snow had kept most of the city's inhabitants in their homes, at least for a while. We began to clear the city streets right near the great gates, and I remember the joy of this work, which, though not very easy, was so much like a game for all the girls. So, in a short time, starting from a simple accident when one of the girls had accidentally splashed the content of her shovel on another, a general snow-battle began. The girls, cheerful and with their faces red, were now rolling in the soft powder, laughing and enjoying the fresh snowfall. Even one of the nuns accompanying us had joined their game! I was looking sadly at them and I would have liked very much to participate in their play... But the childish games were already over for me and Sister Lenora came, took my shovel and whispered: "Go now Elsie! Stendarr be with you!" I smiled at her and sneaked into one of the alleys edged with houses, most of them still with their shutters drawn. Then I ran, struggling with the snow that in some places reached past my knees. I stopped for a short time in a sheltered place and, as Sister Sescia had advised me, changed my clothes and then covered my head with the hat I had kept hidden until then.

I wandered for a while through the city that was beginning to come to life; I was deeply impressed by the extraordinary White-Gold tower, the first Ayleid structure I had ever seen in my life. The palace was open to visitors and I was able to enter without any difficulties. I was amazed by the extraordinary dimensions of the complex, by the vast interior spaces in which the visitors' footsteps resonated in a strange way for me; the numerous ancient bas-reliefs on the high walls told me strange and beautiful stories, brought to my mind unknown places full of lush vegetation such as I had never seen in my life. My soul vibrated before the paintings and carvings that decorated the many niches that adorned the white walls, so brightly white. I wandered for a long time through the vast reception hall of the palace, ignoring the passage of time! But eventually I got hungry and then I headed for the exit.

The weather had noticeably warmed up, and the snow-covered rooftops had begun to drip, thin streams of water trickling onto the now soft, slushy ground. There were many people in the palace courtyard where a troupe of traveling acrobats were putting on a show that I found both amusing and astonishing. The juggling and acrobatics they were performing with great skill were something new, never seen before by me. When the fire eater began his act, the crowd pressed in closer, and being as small as I was, I couldn't see a thing. Disappointed, I tried to weave my way through the people in front of me, but just then, an irresistible scent caught my attention. The aromas came from the stall of a peddler who was baking and selling all kinds of hot pies and pastries, just out of the little mobile oven. There were two people working there, the apprentice who made the pies and baked them with unbelievable speed and the master baker who sold them. Attracted by the mouth-watering scent, many people gathered around the stall, creating a constant rush that gave the bakers no time to rest. I eagerly approached, drawn in by the tantalizing aroma, and my stomach growled in a funny way as I looked forward to tasting one of those warm delights... But there were so many people waiting to buy that when the apprentice pulled out of the oven a tray full of pies and put it on the counter, I simply, serenely took one of them... I did this without thinking and, without leaving, I started eating the pie... Being very busy and tired and maybe for other, much stranger, reasons, the two merchants did not notice. And no other people around me, apart from an old lady who just then bought what she wanted. She quickly sat between me and the counter and ordered two more pies: one with pork and one with cheese. The one I had just stolen was an apple pie...Then she turned to me, gently grabbed me by the shoulders, and whispered: "Don't eat all of it now, little one, wait till you eat these two first!" and she gave me the two pies he had bought at the end. We then left together, the old lady holding me by hand and watching me from time to time while I was eating my pies quietly. They were really delicious or at least they seemed so to me after the abundant but tasteless food that was served to me in the dining room of the orphanage. Then the old lady asked me if I want more food and I replied that I would very much like to eat something sweet. She smiled and bought a whole bag of glazed chestnuts from another traveling salesman who was selling his merchandise around the palace. Oh, the chestnuts were also hot and I ate them with delight... I hadn't even been able to eat all of them... And then we stopped near a tearoom where I sipped two big cups from the most excellent hot tea I ever drank. During all this time, the old lady looked at me with interest and curiosity and maybe there was something more than that in her eyes... In my turn, I studied her face and clothes carefully and without timidity and I had the overwhelming feeling that I knew her from somewhere! That I knew her as well as only the closest relatives can know each other... A peculiar feeling came over me, and suddenly I thanked her for her kindness and told that now I had to go and look for my parents. The old lady smiled and told me to go to the Arena District where most of the refugees from Anvil County were temporarily housed. So I got up and left. I stood in the tea room doorway and looked back. The old lady was staring at me with a look in her eyes that had not the slightest hint of a smile. On the contrary, her eyes had the sharpness of steel and seemed to be assessing me with the utmost attention. I shuddered and ran out into the crowded street.

I was filled with two contradictory sentiments, one of fear and the other of curiosity, even of attraction towards the old lady who had done me no harm. On the contrary, she had saved me from a dangerous situation... And, as I slipped through the crowd of people that, with the coming of evening, filled the streets of the city, many thoughts began to run through my head. At the orphanage, the priest's sermons and the moral lessons taught by the Sisters had presented theft as one of the most terrible sins that can be committed by mortals. Perhaps they had even portrayed it as the worst of all sins because I remembered clearly that we were made to repeat daily the words "Do not covet what belongs to another". Very convenient from the point of view of all the rulers of this land, they who always want more, never get enough! But at that moment it became obvious to me that I had committed the worst of sins, as they had been presented to me by my former mentors. However, I didn't feel guilty about anything, my conscience was as clear as fresh spring water and I even smiled at the thought that I could have taken two pies instead of one... Or perhaps even more and, maybe there were even some coins scattered on the floured counter... At the same time, a feeling of fear overlaid these cheerful thoughts and I suddenly realized that I would have been severely punished by the traders and, probably, by the other people who were around, if I were caught in the act. I stopped my run, and began to pace at a walk, totally absorbed in the flood of thoughts that had stormed my little brain. I was so immersed in my meditations that I bumped into a man coming the other way. When he roughly pushed me away I did not react in any way and my soul was no longer filled with sadness, fear or shame as it would have been before. I just looked after him and chuckled softly thinking about how funny it would be if the grumpy man would slip on the ice and fall...

As I continued to walk, I felt a strange freedom growing inside me, something like a power that whispered that the commonly accepted rules no longer concerned me. And so, some deeds that had previously seemed unthinkable now appeared natural, even necessary. I didn't understand it then, nor could I have, but on that first day of my freedom, tremendous changes were happening in the way I looked at the world and at life! I gradually came out of my state of reverie and started to attentively look around me.

And I saw people, lots of people, women and men, tall northerners with cold eyes, noisy and very cheerful Imperial citizens, delicate Bretons of small stature. Here and there would even appear the extremely intelligent figure and the alert gaze of one of the cat breed, Khajiit as the Imperials call them. I stopped in a sheltered place beneath the gate of a luxurious property and began to watch the human tumult on the street with attention and greed, and it seemed to me that beneath the good mood and cheerfulness that characterized the people on this day of holiday there was a rather ill-concealed anxiety and fear. As if an intense excitement urges a critically ill person to gather his last strength to enjoy life a little longer... Strange things were happening in my mind, which was greedily absorbing all these new sights and sensations. I was really overwhelmed by the sensory information I received; those two women dressed in expensive furs and accompanied by a little Redguard carrying their luggage seem to be very good friends but the brunette one hates and envies her friend... Her look, captured by my greedy eyes, said so much that I was overwhelmed by the wave of sensations! And that tall gentleman with the thinly cropped mustache has no loving thoughts at all for the young lady who hangs on his arm and looks at him with adoration... My brain was receiving so much nourishment from the surrounding metropolitan world that the moment my eager eyes caught sight of a Khajiit who had swiftly and with extreme dexterity snatched the bag of an old and well dressed man, it began to mix the information and combine it in a strange way, giving birth to feelings and impressions unknown to me before. Suddenly, the lights glowed too brightly, sounds seemed to surround me from all directions... Scents mingled in a dizzying storm... Everything was too much, too fast! I turned my back to the street and closed my eyes. I drew a deep breath and tried to recover from the sudden dizziness that had seized me. And when I did, I wondered with curiosity how I would now perceive my former colleagues from the orphanage... Or Sister Lenora and Prioress Sescia! A strange thought crossed my brain and I tried to reconstruct in my mind the figure of my beloved mother Kiersten. But I didn't succeed at all and instead of her loving, beautiful and wise figure, I could only see with my mind's eye my own figure, the round and sweet face of a little blond and long-haired girl... I was frightened and saddened at the same time and then I took for the first time in my life the decision to stop thinking for a while about something that deeply disturbed me. And let things flow, sensations and feelings crystallize in the subtle alembic that is the brain... And only then to try to grasp the true meaning of apparently strange and incomprehensible facts. I cautiously walked out from beneath the gate where I had been standing until then and, trying not to let my attention be diverted by the crowd of people on the street, I made my way towards the Arena District.

In that special quarter of the Imperial City I found even more people than on the streets of the Talos Plaza District. Only that their general condition, their clothing and appearance were very different. The people here were poorly dressed, many of them with their clothes patched or torn; their faces, pale and drawn, bore the weight of unspoken sorrow and the laughter and cheerful shouts from other parts of the city could not be heard near the big Arena. Only a constant hum, occasionally pierced by the cries of small children, reigned over the gray crowd of people who, in the dusk's dim light, were making their way in disorderly ranks toward the huge cauldrons steaming on the fires set up in the neighborhood. I tried not to mingle with the sad crowd, which caused me an uneasy feeling of fear crossed by impulses of curiosity, and, carefully avoiding the puddles covered with brown snow, trampled by thousands of feet, I walked towards the enormous stone and wooden circus that sheltered the Arena. Oh, this is another of the impressive constructions that adorn the Imperial City! The high walls that looked ashen in the early winter twilight, the large bronze gates that, when opened, resembled the ravening jaws of a prehistoric monster, and the small, oval, barred openings that corresponded to cells where animals of all kinds brought from the farthest corners of the Empire were temporarily kept, all these elements gave an astonishing impression of power and wealth! And indeed the Arena is a symbol of the former undisputed power and glory of an Empire which was now living its last years! As I was far from understanding the political aspects that dominated Tamriel at the time, I could only admire the enormous structure, an undeniable proof of the skill and wealth of the people who lived here, in the largest city on the continent. In those early days I couldn't fathom the function of this huge edifice, nor could I imagine the tumult of the ecstatic crowds in front of the cruel spectacles in which men and beasts kill, injure and maim each other just for the entertainment of a decadent people! I later witnessed such a so-called entertainment, and I can firmly state that it is one of the most disgusting, shameful and harmful distractions that can be offered to a people in order to make them not to notice or forget the serious matters that are plaguing a society at a given time.

But to me, on that first day of freedom, the hundreds of huge tents and bunkhouses hastily erected in a vacant area of the district were much more interesting; there was once a park whose trees had been cut down to make room for the temporary shelters that housed thousands of refugees who, after a grueling journey, had arrived here, in the heart of the Empire. As I found out that day, they were all from the county of Anvil, which had been overrun by the Dominion's light cavalry. From what was rumored throughout the neighborhood, the elves were looting and burning all the small, unwalled towns in the county and Anvil itself was besieged by the Dominion infantry. I didn't understand much of what the people around me were saying, but their looks and sadness, the tears of those who had lost relatives and loved ones in the dreadful strikes were enough to make me realize that terrible things were happening somewhere in the Imperial lands.

That evening, however, I wanted only to find a safe place to sleep because the day spent in the midst of so many new sensations had made me terribly tired and my mind was still confused. A few Sisters of the Order of Stendarr were sharing blankets to those who came to take shelter in the precarious lodgings and I managed to get one and find a relatively quiet corner where I slept without dreams until sunrise. I woke up in the midst of people who were waking up noisily, eager to receive the morning meal that the Order was serving freely to refugees. I sat at the end of a long line of people and when I finally reached the huge steaming cauldron, I was handed a canteen filled with a thin and hot stew which, although barely more than water with a few floating beans, spread warmth through my frozen limbs. In any case, I had never eaten such miserable food in my life and, adding this reality to the uncomfortable way in which I had spent the night, I decided that I had to find another refuge. And that as soon as possible... But as I found out pretty soon, finding a new and more convenient shelter was not such an easy task. And, after all, no one here was making me work or attend boring religious services! Besides, I was free to leave or return to the Arena complex as I wished so I remained there for a while, time in which I started to learn and practice very useful things for a girl in my situation.

I wandered then the streets of the Imperial City and I was amazed by the many interesting things that could be seen or heard here. I spent many afternoons and evenings in the crowded taverns of the city and heard many stories and new things about lands of the Empire that I didn't even know that existed. I tried my luck and skill at the begging trade; there were so many beggars in front of the Temple of the One on holy days and there were so many feast days in those happy times! As the free food I received from the refugee rations was insufficient and not to my liking, at first I bought various supplements using the money given to me by Prioress Sescia or, when the situation allowed it, by stealing food from the counters. There were a few situations when the merchant or one of his customers noticed me trying to steal goods but I always managed to run and escape the danger...

And so, the days passed one after the other, winter was coming to an end and the number of refugees arriving in the Imperial City was increasing steadily. The money given to me by Prioress Sescia ran out sooner than expected. The clothes she had gifted me began to tear, and soon I found myself blending into the gray, hungry, and dirty crowd that roamed the city's streets by day. But even the Imperial City itself changed in those few months. Some streets started to smell of decay and desperation, the scent of unwashed bodies and stale bread clinging to the air like a bad memory and the well-dressed, cheerful, people were gradually replaced by hungry and desperate beings mingling with all sorts of villains. Therefore the number of crimes committed in the city had increased so much that a partial curfew had been instituted; that meant that walking or staying on the city streets between sunset and sunrise was forbidden to refugees; carrying of weapons of any kind by non-residents of the city was also strictly forbidden. The City Guard being considered both insufficient and totally ineffective in combating the crime wave, Stendarr's Order was given charge of the matter on request.

So, at the same time as the gray and poverty-stricken wave swept over the city, a new wave, this time black and equipped with heavy clubs and even crossbows, invaded all the neighborhoods. The Order's fighting monks were brought in from all over the Empire and, after a short so-called special training at Fort Nikel, were put in charge of patrolling the streets and maintaining order in the metropolis. Totally different from the old soldiers who made up the City Guard till then, the monks of the Order were extremely harsh and not shy to punish certain crimes on the spot. After all, the judicial system of the Imperial City had been over saturated with lawsuits and was considered insufficient to deal with the new and numerous crimes that were plaguing the once so peaceful and cheerful districts of the great city. The Special Court of the Order, which had previously dealt only with internal matters, began trying a large number of offenses. Eventually, it handled all cases involving murder, theft, robbery, illegal night-time wandering, brawls, and even tavern fights. And the Order managed, to a significant degree, to change the atmosphere of the Imperial City, bringing about a sense of safety and calm for its citizens, who had been teetering on the edge of despair because the war that had recently begun had ravaged the fertile farmlands of Anvil County, driving food prices ever higher. By early summer, much of the city's peace and order had been restored. New refugees were no longer being allowed inside the city walls but were directed instead to a vast camp set up in the southeast, beyond the capital. Additionally, the Order launched an effort to identify and register the refugees living in the Arena District, with plans to deport most of them from the metropolis. Orphaned children, meanwhile, were to be sent to the orphanage at Fort Nikel... But for me, there was no going back; at the time, I had almost forgotten that I had been sentenced to death by the Order's tribunal, but the words of Prioress Sescia echoed in my mind: "Don't come back here again!"

So, one day in early summer, I decided not to return to the refugee camp in the Arena District and instead spent the night in a crumbling warehouse in the Merchant District. What followed were some of the hardest days of my life; days when I often found myself without anything to eat, forced to scavenge through the piles of garbage under the cover of night, hoping to find even a dry crust of bread. Begging had become nearly impossible, as the Order tightly controlled it, allowing it only in a small, designated area near the Temple of the One. And even then, the citizens of the city had grown cold and unfriendly toward those of us who had been displaced, forced to leave behind our homes and embark on the harsh, sorrowful path of wandering. The merchants were now carefully watching their goods, which were becoming rare and expensive, and not rarely in the larger stores was stationed a fighting monk of the Order. Just the sight of their rugged faces and the huge clubs they wielded made me abandon any thought of theft. On top of that, the place of the wave of villains and desperate people that had haunted the city until then had been taken by a lot of ragged and hungry children who roamed the streets of the city alone or in small gangs. Most of them came from the ranks of refugees from Anvil County but there were among them also children of poor local families. On the one hand these vagrant children made my life difficult but on the other hand they were like an excellent training ground for me... You see my friends, these children were not those so experienced and dangerous urchins roaming the narrow winding alleys of the Waterfront District... The great majority of them were children of peasants, neither good nor bad. Like me, they were not experienced in all the habits and tricks characteristic of those who sometimes haunt the streets of big cities. They were just hungry and above all they feared the orphanage of the Order. At first, I tried to keep as far away as possible from groups of such children, but this was difficult; like me, they were very interested in the temporary garbage dumps of the neighborhoods and the fruit trees in the public parks that were just starting to bear fruits. So a lot of the times I was beaten and robbed of the few bits and scraps I could gather. Also, finding a relatively quiet place to rest during the night became very difficult for me. Once again a morbid fatigue had begun to embrace me in its moist, misty wings; the severe underfeeding, the tormented sleep, often interrupted and fragmented by numerous moments during which I had to run in despair, pursued by other children or by the vigilantes of the Order who had found my temporary resting-place, the countless beatings I received when I tried to defend the poor crust of bread I held in my weak little fist, all these had turned me into a skeletal, fever-eyed little thing.

But in spite of all these terrible difficulties, I never despaired! And I began to creep at night through the now constantly open windows of people's houses and steal food. I remember that on the first such attempt I was so weak that I climbed with difficulty through the very close-to-the-ground window of a poor house where a lonely old woman lived. I knew that because I had often seen the old woman sitting in the sun on a stool in the small, neglected little garden of her house. She was very old and thin and had a soft, sad look... Once in the house, I crept as silently as I could past the narrow bed from which the old woman's labored breathing could be heard, and slipped a large loaf of bread and some cheese from a large, deeply cracked plate on the corner table. I was very surprised to notice that the darkness was not as deep as I would have expected and that only the smell of the cheese and even of the bread had been strong enough to guide me to the place where they were. I sat down on the floor, right next to the crooked legs of the table and started to greedily munch. Ah, I was so happy... I didn't get up until I had finished eating and then, with infinite care, I snuck to a small, cheap wooden cupboard. I opened the door and found two apples, which I pocketed. Under a clumsily embroidered cloth, I discovered two septims and a few copper coins... I took them and carefully climbed out of the window...

I was so pleased by the easiness with which I had gotten food that, at the moment, I didn't reflect on the strange way in which sight and smell had served me in that circumstance. Nor did I take into account the fact that, just then, I was able to hear the soft footsteps of a mouse passing with some business of its own through the old woman's garden... I was far more preoccupied by the fact that, as the sky was beginning to glow slightly towards dawn, from the neighborhood square came the overwhelming scent of warm bread. Guided by the wonderful aromas, ah, even now when I have everything a woman could wish I think the odor of fresh bread is the most wonderful and disturbing smell in the mortal world, I found the bakery through the door of which came waves of warmth and aroma. I approached cautiously and looked in. On a long table just near the open door were huge trays of hot, wonderful, golden, loaves of bread! I slowly slipped in and grabbed a huge loaf of bread and then I ran away, followed by the shouts of the baker who had come out of the doorway holding the huge shovel with he manipulated the loaves in the oven. I burst into laughter and ran faster and full of joy! A little later I stopped suddenly near a cobbler's shop and let myself slip like a shadow through the open hatch of the cellar. It was cool inside, a welcome coolness in the humid heat of that hot summer night. And it smelt of leather, quality leather, a subtle fragrance that was very pleasant to me... I slipped through the bundles of wares and after I had munched a quarter of the wonderful bread I had just stolen, I fell into a deep and refreshing sleep. I woke up only towards evening; the hum of the city was reverberating all the way to the cellar where I was and the diffuse light of dusk filtered through the narrow hatchway. I devoured a piece of bread and then rushed out into the light.

I longed to eat some meat, I felt the need for meat overwhelming me and the feeling was almost painful. So I entered the first butcher's shop I met on the way, I proudly put a septim on the counter and asked for sausages, pork sausages, those wonderful, thick, fat and full of spices sausages! The shopkeeper, a dry little man, with a pale greenish face and thin lips, took the coin, tried it in his teeth, and then looked at me with a wicked smile. "Where did you steal it from, you brat? Get out of here before I call the guard..." he whispered in a soft voice and looking at me with his yellow eyes that were like slits now. I tried to object but the butcher quickly pulled a club from behind the counter and hit me with it. I fled, I fled crying and moaning and didn't stop until the protective shade of a high fence fell over me. I wiped the tears and blood from my face with my apron which was a real rag now and I walked off down the street where the shadows of the torrid dusk were descending like velvet curtains. I went hesitatingly towards the Elven Garden District where I knew there was a large garden full of vegetation. I was in pain and especially the thought that I could have been so stupid made me suffer. A small success had so easily caused me to let down my guard, to think that I belonged again to the crowd of ordinary people who were now wandering leisurely through the sun-scorched streets of the city... I saw one of them right in front of me; he was as drunk as drunk could be and was coming towards me grinning stupidly and shaking his legs... I froze on the spot and watched him carefully. He was a middle-aged man, relatively small of stature, with a neatly trimmed beard and big brown, teary eyes like most drunks have. I had nowhere to run so I waited, tense and careful but not scared. When he reached me, I saw him take his right hand out of his pocket and hold it out to me... Without judgment, just by instinct, I dashed past him and swept his right leg from under him. He collapsed just like a chopped down tree and groaned deeply when he hit the hard, cobblestone pavement. I laughed, a cold, dry laugh as I watched him struggling hard to get up... But the laughter suddenly froze on my lips when I saw what the unfortunate man had in his hand. A silver coin rolled not far from the body of the man who could not stand up... And then, probably for the last time in my life, I was tempted to help my fellow man in distress, the man who had wanted to give me a coin. But I recalled the butcher's club... And then I shrugged, grabbed the coin and ran away, limping as quickly as I could. I avoided people, whenever I saw them in front of me, I tried to hide and sneaked into the shadows of the walls of the surrounding houses, in the doorways of the gardens or behind an old tree trunk.

When I arrived in front of the house where a year ago I had waited for my mother Kiersten, I stopped and looked over the low fence. The garden was full of flowers and the sycamore tree in the yard was a little taller than when I had played in its shade with my dear kitten. It was also full of ripe fruit; the owners were wealthy people and the modest fruits of this tree were of no interest to them... A strange song, sweet and bitter at the same time, almost a melopee, sung by the low, deep voice of a woman could be heard through the open window of the dwelling. I did not recognize the voice of the young woman who had so lovingly cared for me, so, intrigued, after looking carefully around me, I climbed the fence, wincing with pain. My left shoulder, where the butcher's club had left a large bruise, throbbed with pain and I crouched to the ground to catch my breath. My body was shaking with pain but I gritted my teeth and crawled towards the wall of the house. I stood up slowly and peered out of the window. The room was shrouded in partial darkness, the only source of light being a long, thick, white wax candle, one of those very expensive candles that are only used on special occasions by wealthy people. They usually contain expensive spices brought from the remote southern islands in their composition and their burning spreads overwhelming, strange, sweet or musk-like fragrances... Sometimes, in the case of the very special exemplars, all these scents at once or in turn, according to how they were made. The room seemed identical to the one in which I had played so many times in the past with my benevolent hostess, but on the table in the middle of it was a coffin. A small, narrow coffin, as for a child. Seated with her back to the window through which I cautiously watched, a woman with long white hair was chanting that strange song that had drawn me into the garden. I stood and watched, immersed in the subtle scents spread by the candle. The strange song pierced my soul with a terrible force and conjured up images that were truly overwhelming.

I saw with my mind's eye a stout woman with dark, terrible eyes, unblinking eyes that had the hardness of steel. The woman held a dagger in her left hand and snuck up behind a well-dressed old man who was strolling carelessly down a snowy city street. It was snowing heavily, and I could hear the wind whistling as it whirled through the strangely shaped houses, unseen by me before. And the woman made a long, graceful, feline leap and grabbed the old man by the neck with her right hand. She raised the dagger and... A terrible dizziness overcame me and I shook all over!

Then another woman came into my mind, a tall and very thin woman, dressed in a strange robe, of undefined color and resembling the waves of the sea, as it seemed to move and have a life of its own. On her head she wore a dark blue hood, embroidered with silver runes that glittered silently in the twilight. The woman was standing with her back to me, rummaging in a large iron cupboard from which she was pulling out all sorts of shiny things that she put in the pouch she had hanged around her neck. Suddenly, as if she sensed my eager gaze, she turned and... A new sensation of choking came over me!

Then I saw myself , not as I really was in that particular day, but decently and cleanly dressed, with my hair neatly combed and washed, so pure that it looked like silk. My eyes were closed and I was lying with my hands on my chest in the small coffin lying on the table in the twilight room!

#fanfic #skyrim #the elder scrolls #anti hero #character development #dark fantasy #drama

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