#like why else are all these characters returning if not for ash to close out his journey

[jadeazora]

Some snippets of a longer meeting I found fascinating. (I don't know if Yuyama has social media, but I hope he doesn't because because OOF. Like, it's okay that he has his own vision for the character and and everything, but said vision of that eternal adventurer was why I dropped the series as a kid. I just had burnout. 😅)

So, a bit of context from my personal experience with the old Ash anime, and sorry if it is a little rambly. I had originally started watching from early OS (the first episode I ever saw was when I was 6, and it was the one where Ash catches Bulbasaur), and stopped following it in mid-Hoenn (when I was maybe 11 or 12), which was when I caught onto the loop they had Ash in, that he'd never really reach a conclusion to his journey and it was really just meant to be an eternal adventure rather than something to make real progress in. (I would watch episodes if there were characters I liked, or if it just happened to be on, but I couldn't get invested in Ash anymore. I would watch for pretty much everybody else.) To me, it felt like you were just supposed to watch until you matured and were expected to leave, so that's pretty much what I did.

I tried coming back in Unova after playing BW, because I really loved the games and was excited to see Team Plasma in the anime, and it had a very promising start with the quicker pacing, but then came the earthquake and the cancelled two-parter, so I pretty much dropped the series again because there was no Plasma in sight until roughly two years later. I watched the league, but Cameron and the way Plasma (sans N) was handled pissed me off enough that I dropped the series entirely until TSME reeled me back in with Lysandre, and I joined Tumblr close to the time XYZ came out, so I just started watching the anime as a weekly thing from the Flare Arc on because it seemed like a fun thing to do for this blog. (I was also getting caught up on what I missed around this time.)

But even despite coming back and doing that, I still wasn't particularly invested in Ash, tho I was happy when he made big strides in his journey, like when he won the Alola League. I was here for the Aether family in SM, and all the returning characters in Journeys. When it came time that they were announcing their plans to retire Ash my literal reaction was YELLING, "We're finally FREE???"

It's pretty much one of the biggest reasons I gravitated to Horizons, besides being interested in the new cast. It seems to have a clear ending in mind with the way the plot is headed. Like, because the main mysteries are centered around Terapagos and the Explorers/Lucius, I really don't think we'll continue following them after everything's resolved. It might be risky changing casts, but that variety makes things way more interesting. (It's just more fun that way, having more characters to talk about, discussing favorites and least favorites with people.)

[ancha-aus]

Coming back to the idea I have moments ago.

(naming it SpiritSoulAU for now)

I was thinking. If this concept idea included all the AUs in one universe kinda deal.

I had two questions for myself.

one. What would the difference between Papyrus and Sans, and Dust and his bro be?

Like. Why is one positive and calm and the other hateful?

Two. What is the difference between ghosts and these spirits?

I will start with the second one.

Ghosts are actual monsters. They have a soul and magic and are alive so to speak. They are just incorporeal.

The spirits in this case. Do not have full souls anymore. More of a soul-echo. an echo of who they used to be. How they used to think. How they felt. and how others around them felt.

This echo of these feelings and them give them a chance to remain. But only for as long as those bonds hold strong.

(papyrus WANTED Sans to come back. And when Sans came back he remained because his little brother needed him. This is the easiest way to say this without starting a whole character analysis which i can and wil spend way too many words on if you allow me)

Now.

Which leaves is to the next point.

What is the difference between Papyrus and Sans, and Dust and GhostPapyrus (I will be calling him Ash because that is the name i like to give ghostpapy. you know. ashes to ashes and dust to dust? It is a stupid joke)

There are a few options. Mostly two that I think could be interesting. One, a character driven reason. Or two, a Lore driven reason.

Lets start with one. Character driven.

As I said before. Spirits return because of the soul echoes. if the echoes are strong enough any monster could return in spirit form (mits the monster wnats this and is strong enough to do this)

Which makes the difference between the two sets of brothers easy. Sans and Papyrus were on good terms. Dust and Ash weren't.

A Lore reason though?

What if.. getting a spirit back isn't as easy as just wishing it? After all. sure you are calling for a spirit to return. Reaching out. But you have no idea where the spirit of the one you are trying to reach is. and who is to say only they can hear you?

This is where you could get a split between benevolent and malevolent spirits.

Benevolent are those who actually died. Those who want to return. They are the ones you reach for and who reach back.

But what if you reach and the person you are reaching for doesn't answer/doesn't want to answer? but something else does?

I will also apply fae rules. Names. Have. Power.

The trick to not end up with the wrong spirit? Don't name it. Don't give it a name.

In this scenerio? Papyrus reached and reached until Sans answered. Until Sans was able to make it clear it was him and they kept each toher close. Papyrus closed the open connection by connecting with Sans to keep him here with him.

Dust also reached. But when a spirit showed up it wasn't Ash. but Dust asked hopefully if it was Ash. and the spirit. Said yes.

The differences between these two type of spirits are all on how the treat the one they are connected to.

As the spirits don't have souls they can't make magic and magic is part of why they can stay with the one who called. the one who called gives a bit of magic to the spirit. The connection i spoke of before.

benevolent spirits just take enough to stay and will always try to help their loved ones. help them move on. help them succeed. Just. help. in whatever way the one who called wants.

Malevolent spirits will try to drain the caller dry. But it is important the aller doesn't break the connection. So they will like any other abuser try to isolate the caller/victim. blame them. guilt trip them. everything!

And that is all I could think of for now.

[dblk-archives]

Dark before dawn.

Chapter 2. Royal Blood.

My rose-colored days get awakened in the full moon, Eternal Melody, only love is able to kill me.”

Summary: Beneath a bloody moon, a fallen angel stands at a crossroads.

Characters: Ruki Mukami, gn! reader.

Tags/warnings: fallen angel AU, blood, mild injury, feelings are confusing for Ruki, series.

Author's note: Chapter 2 is here! I struggled a little in this one haha Writing actual plot is not my forte /lh. I still hope you like it ♡

His chapped lips had forgotten how to savor such a rich taste.

The warmth from days lounging in the sun, now returned to him in the form of liquid spoonfuls;

The soft yet savory flavor of evergreen vegetables grown naturally.

And something else he can’t quite place.

For all his royally divine blood, Ruki can’t remember ever having tried such a tasty meal.

Are these the side effects of falling? Maybe he’d been starving for so long even ashes wouldn’t taste bad.

“I take it you’re enjoying your meal?” You call out to him.

There you go again, sitting cross legged across from him, that annoying grin on your face.

“Do you always mock your guests?” He retaliates, the defiance in his tone in total disarray with his wounded self.

“Are you always so pleasant to your hosts?” You stand up from your chair, arranging some blankets on the couch. You sigh, “I’m not mocking you, you just seemed to like my soup. I… Nevermind.” You cut yourself off with a rueful smile, shaking your head. 

“I’m gonna hit the hay, so good night, Ruki. Let me know if you need anything.”

The broken angel stays there, the tainted universes contained in his gaze following your retreating figure.

He picks up his spoon again, only for his tongue to taste it empty.

Maybe he did like the soup.

༊*·˚

The makeshift bed you had prepared for him is oddly comfortable.

Soft blankets are gentle on his marred wings; the light of the full moon filters in through the floor to ceiling windows; the translucent curtains flutter every now and then, their waves reflected in his eyes.

A pleasant scent envelops him, in tune with the quiet of the late AM’s. 

That is, until an offkey melody finds its way into the tranquil scene.

He can pick up someone’s ragged breathing, followed by the sound of broken glass.

Maybe some burglars? Not that he particularly cares, he had already planned on leaving before dawn.

However, without knowing how or why, a sense of dread washes over him.

“Please no… Not now…” 

Those pleading, anguished cries… Is that the same person who had been so insistent his wounds needed treating? 

The sounds seem to be coming from the kitchen.

And, for once in his life, he acts before thinking.

He rushes towards the source of the noise.

What he sees when he opens the door wasn’t what he expected at all.

There, on the kitchen floor, shards of glass all around, lays you, crouching and gripping one of the sharp pieces in your palm.

Blood has begun pooling on the floor around your hand.

“What are you doing?” He chides, running to pull the glass away from you.

“Please… Go…” You briefly meet his gaze, breathing still short and shallow.

But wait, were your irises always that scarlet hue? And were your canines always that sharp?

“Ruki…” You rasp. “You have to leave… Please, listen…”

For an instant, he stands there paralyzed. An unusual occurrence when it came to him.

Are his feelings playing tricks on him? He can’t stand you, can he?

So why does he want to stay? 

Ruki closes his eyes for a moment, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips.

“You really are a handful.” He lets out, prying the glass bit away from your fingers. 

He takes your bleeding palm, examining the cut. Luckily it’s not too deep.

Your distress is still palpable, sweaty strands sticking to your face as you try to relax your breathing.

The edge of the moon illuminates the space in the cold of the late hours.

However, before neither of you have time to stop it, something warm prickles the side of the fallen angel’s neck.

“What-” The man gasps.

“Mngh…” 

To see you biting into his shoulder with sharp fangs is more shocking than the scene he first witnessed when he found you just minutes ago.

The feeling is not unpleasant though, it’s actually quite… intoxicating.

No, what is he thinking? For someone of sacred blood to be touched so casually…

As if reading his mind, the human, or well, creature, pulls away brusquely, retreating against the kitchen cabinets.

“I… I’m sorry…” You manage. A trail of angel’s blood trickles down the corner of your lips.

Complete silence settles, save for a beast’s erratic heartbeat and a former angel’s exhales.

The moon’s gaze is obscured by clouds that only augur impending storms.

And in the firmament’s blind spot, a divine royal holds cursed blood in his arms. 

“Yeah, a hassle.” The dark haired man sighs, scooping you up in his arms.

༊*·˚

Dawn is approaching.

A wingless angel sits on a balcony railing.

However, his eyes do not pay any attention to the beauty of a rising horizon.

They are trained on the person sleeping in the bed he was supposed to be resting in.

Vampire would be more accurate, actually.

The feeling of your hands on his bare chest, the crease in between your brows the moment he tried to leave your side; and the calm that graced your expression when he lay beside you again.

Troublesome.

'One night.'

That had been the deal.

He sighs.

As if in contrast to his sister the moon, the first rays of a new day would witness the steps of a once angel entering the living room.

Threads of hesitation wrap around a fallen seraph’s erased feathers, rooting him beside a new acquaintance.

“Who are you really?” He whispers.

[ghuleh-witch]

The Night We Met

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Teen Warnings: Canonical Character Death Relationships: Papa Emeritus II/Secondo x Female!Reader Additional Tags: established relationship, grief/mourning, no beta Word Count: 961 Summary: He was gone and you just wanted to go back to the night you met. Ao3 || Masterlist

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met -Lord Huron—"The Night We Met"

You couldn’t breathe. No matter how many times you inhaled and exhaled, you felt like your breath was being sucked right out of your lungs, not giving your body time to filter the oxygen. At least your eyes were dry now. You didn’t have any tears left. You probably became dehydrated from the crying, but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. 

You first learned of Secondo’s death from Alpha. The ghoul burst into the quarters you shared with the former Papa screaming about how they killed him. They killed them all. You couldn’t get anything else out of him before several other ghouls, new ghouls you noted, came into the room behind him and began dragging him away.

“You need to leave, sister,” one ghoul said. “Pack your things and return to your own quarters.”

It wasn’t until two days later that you pieced together what happened. Secondo was with his brothers for their usual game night while you finished your shift in the archives. The retired Papas were poisoned. You didn’t know how or why, but they were gone. Your lover and friends were gone, and no one was telling you a damn thing. All you knew was that Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil were involved somehow. They acted as though nothing happened and continued planning the upcoming Ghost tour. You couldn’t be sure if Cardinal Copia was involved. You didn’t know him well, but you knew he was also an Emeritus, despite Papa Nihil denying it. 

But you doubted his involvement, or if he was involved, he carried a heavy burden of guilt. You saw him shortly after it happened after you had been sobbing in the gardens, and he had such a haunted look in his eyes. If he had been involved in his brothers’ deaths, it had been against his will. 

No one would let you see his body. You didn’t even know if Secondo was still within the Ministry or even if he was in one piece. It had been his wish to be cremated and his ashes scattered off the coast of Italy. You wanted to make sure that his wishes would be honored. The Cardinal took pity on you though after seeing your bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks. He took you down to the morgue and let you inside.

“Ten minutes, sorella , that’s all I can give you,” he said apologetically. You were grateful and went inside.

That brought you to the present, trying to breathe as you looked down at the preserved body of the love of your life. He looked just as formidable in death as he did in life, dressed in his vestments and paints and encased in a glass coffin. It wasn’t what he wanted, and you wanted nothing more than to smash the glass and fulfill his wishes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, pressing a hand to the glass that separated you. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

The tears came again, and you pressed your forehead to the cool, clear surface. “D-do you remember the night we met?” You stammered through your grief. “At that after-party? I accidentally spilled my drink all over your new suit. Instead of yelling at me, you took one look at me and reassured me that it was alright. You changed in an instant that night. Your attention wasn’t on the other women at the party. You couldn’t keep your eyes off me and then you asked me if I wanted to go on a date. A real honest date. You proved everything I heard about you wrong that night, and I fell in love with you then and there. You have no idea how badly I just want to go back to that night and do it all over again. I’d trade my soul to be taken back to the night we met.” You stared into his face, his eyes closed and unmoving. “Please…I can’t do this without you. Please come back. I need you.”

Your pleas went unanswered, though. 

You looked from Secondo to Primo and Terzo on either side of him. They looked just as regal as they once were. You let out a choked sob. There would be no more spending time in the greenhouses with Primo; no more visiting Terzo in his personal study and exchanging gossip. You had no one to confide in when Secondo did something to piss you off. There would be no one to make you that special tea blend to help you sleep. 

They would want you to go on, though. You knew that. You knew Secondo would want you to continue your work and your life at the ministry, despite what happened. He knew how much your faith meant to you and wouldn’t want you to squander everything you worked for. He’d want you to be happy, no matter how cliche the statement was. You would try, but you felt so empty inside. Happiness seemed like a foreign concept that you’d never experience again. 

You heard the door to the morgue creak open and knew Copia would be standing there. Your time was up and now it was time to say your goodbyes. You pressed your lips to Secondo’s glass tomb. “Wait for me down there,” you whispered before pressing a hand on Primo's and Terzo’s coffins. “Take care of each other.” You bit back another sob and raised your head. Copia stood in the doorway with a solemn expression. With your head held high, you walked out of the morgue, determined to make those responsible for taking Secondo from you pay.

[assorted-fics]

Fics of the Month

Avatar: The Last Airbender

from the ashes by dxncingquxxr

the five times zuko dies and the one time he lives

a subtle electric fire (asef-verse) by agni_kai

First Fic: a subtle electric fire

"Suki," he says, muffled. "Suki, tell me to stop crushing on the hot single dad at work."

Suki doesn't look up from painting her nails. "Go out and bag yourself a DILF, babe."

---

Zuko's insistence that it's him and his kid against the world is being seriously tested by Izumi's new teacher.

Sokka's determination to ignore hot parents is waning more and more as he gets to know the single dad of the new kid.

Everyone else is just waiting for them both to get their acts together.

Fullmental Alchemist

Make Your Pointe by ShanaStoryteller

Ed doesn't know how he got himself into this situation.

And by situation, he means dancing the lead role in a ballet he barely knows.

Dreaming in Red and Gold by Batsutousai

When Drachma agrees to meet for peace talks at Briggs Fortress, General Roy Mustang is the one sent to represent Amestris. It just so happens that the Drachmans have their own Amestrisan, who is far too skilled at turning the most tedious of discussions into an exciting time.

Happiness and Love Revolve Revolve Around You by Batsutousai

Mei visits Xerxes as a princess of Xing, and Al finds himself falling in love with her.

a terrifying clamour of trumpets by ShanaStoryteller

Edward grabs Marcoh’s arm and says, “That stone – what can it heal, exactly?”

The old man’s eyebrows rise to his forehead, and he looks like he already knows the answer when he goes, “Why do you ask, Edward?”

There's no metallic footsteps so there’s no way Al’s close enough to hear them. “I’m sick,” he admits after another moment of deliberation.

Merlin

Me @ Merlin Writers: What if You Didn’t Murder My Favourite Characters by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

First Fic: Returning the Favour

Really?" Arthur asked, brushing the dirt off of him as he glowered at the man. "Again? I had it under control - and we aren't allies!" He added heatedly. Balinor shrugged, looking nonplussed by Arthur's anger as he stroked the dragon's wing.

"I know." Balinor said simply. "But I promised my son I wouldn't let you die."

"Your...You have a son?" Arthur demanded. Again, Balinor shrugged. "Why does your son...? Nevermind. Don't save me again!" He snapped, pointing a finger at the man. He turned to stalk back to the horse only for a column of fire to blow past him. The prince jumped. He spun around to tell the man off again but immediately noticed one of the remaining bandits who had been slowly creeping towards him burnt to a crisp. He looked back at Balinor.

"Sorry."

Or

Balinor lives. Arthur will do pretty much anything to get the man to stop saving his life.

Dragged Down and Hellbound by CaffinatedFlumadiddle

"I don't think you understand," Merlin said as he started walking backwards, brows wrinkled in confusion. "I can rip your throat out with my teeth and drink your blood. Does that not bother you?" He asked. Arthur finally glanced up from the papers in his hand to look at him, pausing his steps altogether. Merlin waited.

"...Merlin, you fell over trying to put boots on." He said. Merlin grimaced, looking down at his feet.

"I hadn't realized you were supposed to wear them all the time." He muttered, uncertain what this had to do with the fact he could murder everyone within a ten mile radius. Arthur sighed. "And those are bold words from someone who can't dress himself!" He added indignantly. Another sigh. Humans did that a lot as it turned out.

"Merlin, that's your job."

"And I've taught you several times. It isn't that hard."

"No, I - " Arthur started and closed his eyes. "I don't have time for this."

Or

After living with demons for sixteen years, Merlin decides to explore his human side by venturing to Camelot. Also, he has a destiny to unite his species and bring magic back into Camelot, but he's not too worried about that.

Harry Potter

A Love Potion by Liepe

The Slytherin House, more specifically Pansy and Blaise, have been unamused by Draco’s behaviour lately. It has been decided that the perfect punishment would be to give Draco a love potion that would make him act like a love sick puppy around Potter. Nothing happens and the Slytherins can’t figure out why.

Avengers

It’s the Little Things that Matter by TunaFishChris

Wanda has a lot of time to reflect and come to some decisions about herself during the Rogues' exile. When they're pardoned, she decides that she's going to make things right: with herself, with the team, and with the world.

In other words, we have enough evil!Wanda and bitch!Wanda fics. So here's a complicated-snarky-hero-awesome Wanda fic.

Series: History and Science Fiction by MemoryDragon

Steve learns history through the use of television, and he starts to see that neither are really that bad. And through it all, he might just have found a family.

in an empty moral space by blueh

“Bring Spider-Man to us, Mr. Stark,” High-heels says and rattles off an address. “If that bug isn’t here in the next twenty four hours, then your intern gets it. We are not going to ask a second time.”

There’s a pause.

Then, “You want Spider-Man?”

“In exchange for your intern,” High-heels affirms.

“Spider-Man,” Mr. Stark repeats. He sounds more amused than worried for Peter’s apparent safety.

also known as: Peter Parker is held hostage…in order to get to Spider-Man. Throw in some Accords reconciliation and, well, Peter’s life just got a whole lot weirder.

Birthday For Two by Inkinmyheartandonthepage

“I’m going to meet MJ and Ned,” Peter said casually even as his palms grew balmy, and his heart rate kicked in his chest.

“Now?” Tony’s brows pulled tighter together.

Peter nodded as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’ll be back later.”

“It’s the middle of your sisters’ birthday party,” Tony said slowly.

“Yeah, well,” Peter shrugged and took in a shaky breath. “Ned and MJ wanted to celebrate my birthday too.”

OR

Tony forgets that it's Peter's birthday too.

[tarnishedxknight]

{out of dalmasca} Just as a side note, because I realize I've added a ton of headcanons, development, extrapolation, etc. to all the characters on here that I'm sure many of you are confused at this point as to what was actually canon and what was added/changed by me, hahaha... but... friendly reminder that Ashelia's crush on Balthier is actually canon in both the American and Japanese versions of the game, and that Basch had to sit there and watch it happen. And if you take his feelings for Ashe as canon too based on the storyboards for Fortress, that's kindof sad. Because Balthier is already taken (they never say it but come on, he's totally with Fran), so Ashe is going to get her heart broken by him, and Ashe isn't interested in Basch (canonically), so he's going to get his heart broken. It's just a chain of heartbreak, heh. Some more notes on this below the cut.

Yeah, so... there's not that much evidence for this ship, but infuriatingly so for Ashe x Basch shippers, there's actually more evidence for Ashe x Balthier, haha. Ashe x Basch has literally one line to support it, unless you read into various other looks, gestures, and conversations (which I, of course, do, heh). But Ashe x Balthier has a few moments and a couple lines. Ashe looks at Balthier in a different way than she does anybody else. There are times when they stand very close or he says something to her and she gets... a little weird, heh. She does the anime... make a noise and then just be quiet thing. I don't know what it's called, it's like a little tiny grunt and then, head down and be quiet. Iykyk, lol. It's the embarrassment thing, in this case because she gets flustered by him. I don't remember the exact scenes but I think this happened at least twice or so.

Then there's the end of the game, when Balthier and Fran board the doomed Bahamut sky fortress to try to get the glossair rings back online so they can move the fortress just enough so it won't obliterate Rabanastre. The emotion Ashe has in her voice as she's talking to Balthier over the radio is... yeah, that's not normal concern. That's the kind of concern you have for the safety of someone you're crushing on, heh. I'm referring to this conversation:

Ashe: "Balthier! Do you understand exactly what it is you're doing?!" Balthier: "Princess! No need to worry. I hope you haven't forgotten my role in this little story. I'm the leading man. You know what they say about the leading man. He never... dies."

Shortly thereafter she says, pleading with him, sounding worried and even a bit scared, "Please, Balthier... Come back." And finally she shouts his name in true dramatic fashion, the way you yell a name when you think you'll never talk to a person again. This is really was clinched it for me as far as Ashe's crush on Balthier being canon. And Basch is standing right next to her the whole time, hearing her so emotionally plead for this man to be safe in a way he's never heard her speak to or about him, I'M SORRY, IT HURTS MY HEART, but I digress, heh.

Now, Balthier never returns Ashe's little crush. Not only is he with Fran, but Ashe is not his type. He enjoys kindof... riling her up, heh. He thinks it's amusing, because.... royalty, amirite? *eye roll* That's kindof his attitude, although they do leave off as pretty good friends by the end of everything. He did return Rasler's wedding ring to her, after all.

The question is... why does Ashe crush on Balthier? As someone who writes her and has lived in her head for a while now, heh, I think I can partially chalk this up to Ashe having a thing for bad boys. But like... the cool kind, Bad Bois™, not actual bad men to harm her for real. I think she finds him exciting and stimulating in a very superficial kind of way. He challenges her, and that's exciting for her because not many have done that in her life, so she's equating that feeling of having great brain food at being challenged with having feelings for Balthier. Also, aesthetically speaking, she is probably just physically attracted to him as well, I'm guessing.

But also, Balthier is so totally different from what/who she's used to seeing, hearing, and interacting with. Everyone is so respectful to her because of her station, and then here's Balthier, talking to her and treating her as just another person in their group. She's used to very straightlaced behavior, royal etiquette, courtly proceedings, save for her Resistance work but even then, she's surrounded by what's left of her father's guards and knights and they don't let a lot of people through to her very often. And then here comes Balthier, who is cavalier, brazen, confident, suave, uncouth at times, strong-willed, pushing back against her ideas, speaking strongly to her... It's so annoying and frustrating to her, but also kindof a turn-on, heh.

And I think by the end of the game, she had come to at least platonically care for everyone in their little group to some extent, I mean... they'd traveled, eaten, slept, fought, and any other number of things beside each other. They'd seen each other at their lowest, saddest, angriest, most tired, etc. There's camaraderie to be had there, and when you conflate that in your mind with a crush... you get Ashe's emotional reaction to Balthier's precarious and dangerous situation at the end of the game.

Alrighty, that's all I wanted to say. For those who didn't know this was canon. And I wanted to analyze Ashe a bit for it, heh. She... is a bit miffed at me now, but she'll live. Do with this information what you will. XD

[galacticdrift]

My BigBadCon2024 games/PCs

The Expanse RPG (Phoenix Wu, pilot): This was a good intro to the Expanse RPG system! We played a fun module where our transport ship encountered an automated SOS and checked it out, only for things to go horribly, horribly wrong… I think the system is, hm, not really for me all in all, but I still enjoyed getting hands-on exposure to it!

Dread (Jeanette Harris, stagehand): There was no way I was letting BigBadCon go by without playing some Dread, and happily I got into TWO very different but great scenarios. The first one, The Phantom of Off-Broadway, was mostly a black comedy, and had fictional scenes and songs for the fictional stage show that started going off the rails when the leading lady was found dead -- by yours truly, the stagehand. I had a funny, weirdly mutually-respectful dynamic with the overbearing scenery-chewing elder statesman actor playing the role of the ghost in the play -- not to be confused with the actual ghost(s) haunting the production.

Abyssal (Charlie, bartender/The Haunted): Honestly I don't generally tend to vibe so well with the Blades in the Dark style dice pool systems (as compared to the 2d6+X PBTA ones), but Abyssal does feel like Lara & Ash sanded off some of the ways that those grate on me, and having Lara herself run the game was of course wonderful.

At one point while we were on break I made the comment that any time any game focuses on my character (our goal was a casino heist in 70s Vegas, to fund Charlie opening her very own bar), I'm like 'wait, hang on, there seems to have been a mistake, shouldn't we be paying attention to someone else right now?'

Anyway I do love Charlie and her ghost raccoon buddy Lo Mein though, and I genuinely wish that oneshot would turn into a whole campaign.

To me there's something INCREDIBLY compelling about The Haunted being mostly just a regular alive person who happens to be in close contact with death/ghosts, in contrast to the other playbooks who have been fundamentally changed by some force and are on a slow slide toward alignment with that force. Like, yeah, The Haunted kind of is, too, but mainly just by being on an accelerated path toward the same inevitable end that every mortal faces.

Dread (Cal Hashimoto, exogeologist): This was the other Dread scenario I played, The Fermi Paradox, and WOW it was absolutely stellar (BA DUM TSSH). We played a mining crew landing on a moon of Uranus and discovering some cosmic horror, & what made it great for me personally was a) all the hard scifi nerdery I got to really lean into, & b) the way our character questionnaire answers at the start got tied in to the action of the plot and turned out to connect the different characters together.

Defy the Gods (Dumuz, The Revenant): In addition to Charlie, Dumuz really lives in my head now and I would LOVE to play a whole campaign as them with the table we had. In just the 1 session, we developed a burgeoning PC romance between the Revenant & the Sword, and I got to swing big by using the eponymous 'Defy the Gods' move to defile a temple and humiliate the god who wanted me destroyed (just because I lied to him to persuade him to help me escape the Underworld, I can't imagine why he was mad).

I find the playbooks for Defy the Gods really interesting and creative -- like The Revenant for example being someone who, having returned from the dead, is embracing a whole new life & identity, and who could quite readily serve as a face or expert kind of role given the skills they have access to.

The system reminds me a little of AGON, with the invocation of epithets, and certainly also of games like Apocalypse Keys, Abyssal, and Demigods, where you have a "nova" kind of state you are at risk of reaching whether you want to or not, and there's only so many times you can draw from that well before your character transitions into a whole new state of being.

One of the juicy things about Defy the Gods in particular compared to those others is that almost every single roll is risky in that "flying too close to the sun" way, because for almost EVERY possible move, doing TOO well is actually a worse (but more interesting) outcome in most cases than just barely scraping by.

And, of course, like with Abyssal, it was a delight having this game run by the creator herself as well. :) I'm so interested to see how the system continues to develop.

[qvarrelsome]

╰ ┈ [ otto farrant , twenty five , cis male , he/his ] in the time of dragons , JASON LANNISTER is entering the game of thrones . said to be dauntless + shrewd , we can only hope that is the case as regrettably they are also well known to be obstinate + quarrelsome . when asked about them , people are always reminded of a flame - quickly growing in size and swallowing everything in its path and the ashes left by it’s path of destruction; a head of golden hair accompanied by a devilish grin; a set of broken chains, a reminder that he can’t be tamed . though they are the LORD OF LANNISPORT , their true loyalties lie with house lannister and rumour has it that if given the choice they would support THE SEPARATION OF THE REALMS above all else . those of us in the shadows wish them luck and can only hope they will survive what is to come .

basics

name: jason lannister

age: twenty five

title: lord

allegiance: house lannister of lannisport (the main branch can get fucked as far as he's concerned)

gender, pronouns: cis male & he/his

sexuality: homosexual

martial status: unwed, unbetrothed

familial

father: lancel lannister

mother: tbd.

siblings: alicent lannister

cousins: n/a

physical

hair color: blond

eye color: dark brown

height: 5'9''

build: athletic

personality

traits: dauntless, shrewd, obstinate, quarrelsome

mbti: entj

temperament: chloeric

moral alignment: chaotic evil

character parallels: ransom drysdale (knives out), han solo (star wars), ronan lynch (the raven cycle)

biography -

jason and his twin sister alicent are the only children of lord lancel lannister and his first wife, with jason being the lord's only son.

as a child his time would be split between the capital and lannisport - with hopes that he would come to live in the capital full time, or at least, spend most of his time there alongside his father.

however due to his uncooperative nature and just unwillingness to spend too much time away from his mother, most of jason's childhood would be spent in lannisport.

he would form an incredibly close bond with his mother, his only other close relationship being with his twin sister. he never seemed to care for his father, though that was through no fault of the older male's.

he was absolutely devastated by the death of his mother. and with her, went any traces of humanity that jason possessed. (that's a bit dramatic but basically no more nice jason)

he left lannisport within a fortnight, vowing, quite loudly, that he wouldn't return without a good reason.

to date he has returned exactly once for alicent's wedding - leaving the second her betrothed died. he wrongly assumed his sister wouldn't want him there.

he's been traveling westeros, earning money through work as a sell sword.

fun facts -

he's a bit of a pyromaniac. he doesn't go around starting fires but he sure does love to watch them !

he's just an incredibly angry guy, though no one can quite figure out why he's so angry. honestly, neither can he - though he won't be admitting that anytime soon.

he is very, very gay, which probably contributes to like 50% of his anger.

he's quite a gifted swordsman which has helped him find work as a sell sword.

he has never really considered becoming a knight, though he likely wouldn't have a hard time finding someone to knight him. it just doesn't interest him.

this man straight up doesn't sleep ! and in the rare event that he does, it's usually restless.

he's kind of violent ...

also he loves learning to use different kinds of weapons. it's his idea of fun.

wanted connections -

JASON LANNISTER , our LORD OF LANNISPORT , is currently searching for their long term companion (love interest)in the kingdoms. they should be aged twenty two - twenty eight with the possible faces of archie renaux, aramis knight, timothee chalamet, emre bey, corey mylchreest, charles melton, dylan wang, ewan mitchell any age appropriate male fc. i should probably start by saying jason is notoriously difficult to get along with, in fact, he usually doesn't even bother trying to form a positive relationship. but for whatever reason, your character is the one notable exception. jason doesn't just care about him, he cares what he thinks of him. jason has spent the past several years traveling westeros which is how he met your muse ! it's likely they got off on the wrong but were able to set aside their differences to become travel companions before eventually developing feelings for one another. needless to say, jason would do just about anything for him. also i will throw it out there that i am willing to make adjustments to this connection to fit your character ! ── you ARE required to contact the mun before applying , but if you wish to , you can reach them @QVARRELSOME.

rivals / enemies / negative connections. look jason is an asshole who goes out of his way to have negative interactions with those around him. he's got to have more negative connections than positive at this point.

flings. nothing serious - which is very intentional on jason's part but a man has needs and he's had a few flings as he's traveled across westeros. he tends to cut ties and run when they start getting to serious.

one serious relationship/possible ex. i'll work on details for this connection later but if you're interested let me know.

travel companion(s). people he's traveled with or even just crossed paths with on more than one occasion.

hosts. people he's visited/stayed with across westeros. he might not be a friendly person but he's quite a good house guest !

employers. he's a sell sword, do with that what you will ! though it's possible he's found other lines of work.

[qvarrelsomes]

╰      ┈      [  otto farrant  ,  twenty five  ,  cis male  ,  he/his  ]  in  the  time  of  dragons  ,  JASON LANNISTER is  entering  the  game  of  thrones  .  said  to  be  dauntless + shrewd  ,  we  can  only  hope  that  is  the  case  as  regrettably  they  are  also  well  known  to  be  obstinate + quarrelsome  .  when  asked  about  them  ,  people  are  always  reminded  of  a flame - quickly growing in size and swallowing everything in its path and the ashes left by it’s path of destruction; a head of golden hair accompanied by a devilish grin;  a set of broken chains, a reminder that he can’t be tamed  .  though  they  are  the  LORD OF LANNISPORT  ,  their  true  loyalties  lie  with  house  lannister  and  rumour  has  it  that  if  given  the  choice  they  would  support THEIR  FAMILY  /  THEMSELVES  above  all  else  .  those  of  us  in  the  shadows  wish  them  luck  and  can  only  hope  they  will  survive  what  is  to  come  .    

basics

name: jason lannister

age: twenty five

title: lord

allegiance: house lannister of lannisport (the main branch can get fucked as far as he's concerned)

gender, pronouns: cis male & he/his

sexuality: homosexual

martial status: unwed, unbetrothed

familial

father: lancel lannister

mother: lysara lannister (step-mother)

siblings: alicent lannister, leonora lannister

cousins: n/a

physical

hair color: blond

eye color: dark brown

height: 5'9''

build: athletic

personality

traits: dauntless, shrewd, obstinate, quarrelsome

mbti: entj

temperament: chloeric

moral alignment: chaotic evil

character parallels: ransom drysdale (knives out), han solo (star wars), ronan lynch (the raven cycle)

biography -

jason and his twin sister alicent are the only children of lord lancel lannister and his first wife, with jason being the lord's only son.

as a child his time would be split between the capital and lannisport - with hopes that he would come to live in the capital full time, or at least, spend most of his time there alongside his father.

however due to his uncooperative nature and just unwillingness to spend too much time away from his mother, most of jason's childhood would be spent in lannisport.

he would form an incredibly close bond with his mother, his only other close relationship being with his twin sister. he never seemed to care for his father, though that was through no fault of the older male's.

he was absolutely devastated by the death of his mother. and with her, went any traces of humanity that jason possessed. (that's a bit dramatic but basically no more nice jason)

he left lannisport within a fortnight, vowing, quite loudly, that he wouldn't return without a good reason.

he's been traveling westeros, earning money through work as a sell sword. and so far, he's managed to avoid returning to lannisport.

fun facts -

he's a bit of a pyromaniac. he doesn't go around starting fires but he sure does love to watch them !

he's just an incredibly angry guy, though no one can quite figure out why he's so angry. honestly, neither can he - though he won't be admitting that anytime soon.

he is very, very gay, which probably contributes to like 50% of his anger.

he's quite a gifted swordsman which has helped him find work as a sell sword.

he has never really considered becoming a knight, though he likely wouldn't have a hard time finding someone to knight him. it just doesn't interest him.

this man straight up doesn't sleep ! and in the rare event that he does, it's usually restless.

he's kind of violent ..

also he loves learning to use different kinds of weapons. it's his idea of fun.

wanted connections -

rivals / enemies / negative connections. look jason is an asshole who goes out of his way to have negative interactions with those around him. he's got to have more negative connections than positive at this point.

flings. nothing serious - which is very intentional on jason's part but a man has needs and he's had a few flings as he's traveled across westeros. he tends to cut ties and run when they start getting to serious.

one serious relationship/possible ex. i'll work on details for this connection later but if you're interested let me know.

travel companion(s). people he's traveled with or even just crossed paths with on more than one occasion.

hosts. people he's visited/stayed with across westeros. he might not be a friendly person but he's quite a good house guest !

employers. he's a sell sword, do with that what you will ! though it's possible he's found other lines of work.

[devilofthehounds]

God Eater 3 Character Novel | Memories Like Fireflies: Chapter 1

[image id: A novel cover. In the foreground is a young Lulu Baran from God Eater 3. She is looking sadly at a pair of goggles in her hands, a fresh scar across her right eye. Behind her is a crimson Biting Edge-type God Arc, dried blood beneath it. Behind that is a faded image of present-day Lulu looking off into the distance. The text, when translated into English, reads “God Eater 3 Character Novel | Chapter 2: Lulu Edition | Memories Like Fireflies”. /end id]

This is a fan translation. Original text here.

Masterpost 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

A tranquil night, lit by a beautiful green moon. Without warning, the sound of rich water echoing in the lower reaches of the great valley was drowned out by the roar of an Aragami.

Looking down at us with searing heat was Hannibal, the true dragon.

After completing the subjugation mission, Luca and I were collecting materials near the shallows when this unexpected enemy suddenly arrived.

"Looks like we don't have a choice... I'll cut through. Luca, follow my lead."

"Right. Let's go, Lulu!"

Reliable as ever. No other AGE made me feel so safe just by being at my side.

Come to think of it, it was around here that I first met Luca and the others.

Luca and I lined up, holding out our God Arcs. A thread of light connected us.

"Just defeat the enemy in front of us and return alive, together."

Propelled by Luca's clear will, I leapt out, slicing through the shallow water.

In the Hannibal's hands, converging flames transformed into two swords.

I dodged as it swung its swords around in a frenzy and quickly closed in on its chest.

Its movements were more human-like than other Aragami.

That was why it was easier for me to see through than anything else.

All I had to do was thrust my God Arc through a vital point, quickly and accurately.

The optimal technique I had repeated and refined countless times since my days in Baran.

That—

"...!"

The moment I saw the roaring dragon and the shining green moon behind it, my movements slowed down slightly.

As the Hannibal flashed its swords of fire at me, I stiffened. At that moment—

"Hraaah!"

Luca launched himself through the piercing heat and slammed his shield into the Hannibal's face.

He used all his strength to break its stance, then immediately thrust his God Arc into the scale on its back.

Tremendous flames erupted from the broken inverse scale, threatening to engulf Luca's body.

"Lulu!"

As he was blown away by the searing wind, Luca called out to me.

"Activate...!"

With the light of my acceleration trigger, the dual God Arcs I wielded became light as feathers.

The wound left behind when Luca gouged out the inverse scale. I leapt toward the keyhole-like scar, and this time, I thrust my God Arc through with unparalleled precision.

With that, the Aragami collapsed. The searing wind that had been howling like a storm subsided.

"...Luca, are you okay?!"

Turning my back on the Hannibal, reduced to ash, I ran over to Luca, who'd been exposed to scalding air at point blank.

"A bit singed here and there, but I'm fine. ...See?"

Holding his scorched God Arc, Luca stretched out and fell backwards into the shallow water.

"This'll cool me down."

Luca smiled as he sat up and shook his head slightly, sending water droplets flying everywhere.

He looked so laid-back, a stark contrast to his demeanor during battle. I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry about earlier. You really saved me."

"It's alright. But for a moment... I could feel your sadness flooding into me."

It seemed that Engage had transmitted my moment of hesitation to Luca.

"You're always so calm during battle. It's rare for you to hesitate."

"Calm... No hesitation..."

That was wrong.

As the silence returned, I looked up at the glowing green moon.

Ah, right. It had been a beautiful moonlit night back then as well.

"...Luca, we still have some time before we have to go back. Would you like to hear an old story?"

"An old story? ...If it's too painful, you don't have to force yourself."

"No, I think this is a good opportunity. I want you to know."

This was the place where I met everyone. Maybe I ought to face myself for once.

After a few moments of silence, I looked down at my God Arc, grateful for Luca's assent.

"...When Baran first found me, I was a hopeless failure."

[blue-silver-hammer]

I think what you said about the last king of faerie referring to the unseelie king is very interesting and just might be possible thought I’m unsure as to how Thule will come back into the story other than the fact that Janus is from there. Based on Janus seeking out Clary I can’t see him going back and forth between the two dimensions so maybe instead of them going to Thule, Thule!Simon comes to the regular dimension seeking Janus as he promised to kill him. However, now that I am thinking about it more Janus did promise Lily in Forever Fall that he would reunite her with Raphael so there has to be a way to Thule.

As for Dru going to Faerie to seek out Jaime I think that is the only thing that makes sense but I don’t think Jaime being missing is what the Clave is going to be so desperate to solve as he has been missing for over a year by that point. Even though Jaime is related to Diego I can’t see him being missing so important that all of the Clave-in-exile will be trying to solve but he is important to Dru that she’d want to go find him especially if she feels like nothing is being done to find him.

Based on the prologue we have I think that the wild fae, Mother Hawthorn specifically, are going to play an important role going forward especially since we don’t know what Mother Hawthorn told Kit in SoBH.

I know everyone thinks that the mysterious disappearance that Kit and Ty are going to solve is about Livvy as Kit is the only one that Ty thinks can help him but I don’t see how Livvy can go missing and not have Ty be incapacitated even with the necklace given to him by Magnus lessening the effects of the necromantic bond between them. It also doesn’t make sense as Cassie said everyone is trying to solve it. At that point in the story the only ones that know about Ty raising Livvy are Kit, Dru, Magnus, and most likely Ragnor though I don’t think it has been officially confirmed that Ragnor knows that Ty went through with the ritual after he refused to give Ty the catalyst after they had gathered the ingredients needed for the spell. However, they do seem to be good friends as they got along well in SoBH. Based on those two things it can’t be Livvy even if it seems like the most likely scenario.

Overall there is only one character I can think of that is important enough to cause that kind of reaction and that is Clary.

While I am not sure how likely this theory is I can see it going something like this:

Dru goes to Pandemonium to see Simon’s band perform with Thais and the TMI crew. Like usual, Alec and Clary leave to go get tacos and Lily comes and distracts Alec while Janus approaches Clary and kidnaps her. As this is from Dru’s POV she is unaware of this happening and so returns to academy clueless and gets in trouble with Luke (based on the snippet we have) as she left the academy without permission. Later it will be revealed that Clary is missing prompting a wide spread effort to find her which upsets Dru as she feels like Jaime is being cast aside and so she goes to find him herself while everyone else looks for Clary. It will also give her the chance to find out why she has lost three days of time.

The only part I struggle with in regards to this theory is Ty and Kit’s plot line. I can see Ty being given a mission to find her as a centurion and he goes to Kit because he it gives him an excuse to seek him out and he might have some idea of his fae heritage as it is possible that he saw Kit vanish the riders and that there is information in the schoolmates about the First Heir as Auraline was born before the scholomance closed as part of the first accord signings. With Janus’ connection to the fae having someone of that heritage could help him out in his search. Their road trip could be them going to places Janus has been trying to find where he has hidden Clary. Ash has hinted in SoBH that Janus has been planning something that seems to go beyond just making Clary his as he mentions the fall of the nephilim and that they — the shadowhunters— don’t know that they are doomed.

Based on what we know of the Seelie Queen, I can see her making an alliance with the Princes of Hell as she believes that there is no way the shadowhunter can win against them and she always wants to be on the winning side. With Janus being somewhat loyal to the Court through Ash he would be involved in that plot as well. Maybe Janus is trying to find Lucifer which goes well with the tile of the second book being the Last Prince of Hell as Lucifer is the only one that hasn’t made a previous appearance.

This could be how Dru plot line and Ty and Kit’s plot line converge as Ash is going to pull Dru into the matters of faerie and Ty and Kit learn that the Princes of Hell are making their move. They both can wind up in faerie and the book ends with agreeing to go with mother Hawthorn to train more in his powers so he stands a chance fighting against the princes of Hell.

The blackthorn sword being reforged can also be included in this part as it was a blade originally forged by Wayland the Smith giving it similar properties (an angel wing in the hilt) of Cortana.

Once the blade is reforged it will most likely be wielding by Dru or Ty. It is most likely Dru as the main female character but as the flower book mentions that her signature weapon is Livvy’s saber it might actually be Ty as Jesse was the last one to wield the sword and Ty has been compared a lot to Jesse so it might be him instead. Either one of them would work as both have an equal claim to the sword as Blackthorns.

I think at the time of Cassie writing TMI that it was supposed to be Jace and Sebastian but Ash and Kit fit the description as well that she could easily have it be referring to them instead.

I have just had thoughts.

We know that Thule will obviously feature again in The Wicked Powers. CC has said that the location of the black volume of the dead, as well as what happened to thule!simon, will be addressed. What i just realized after rereading TDA for the tenth time is that almost all the clues given so far relate to Thule.

The last king of Faerie? In Thule the Unseelie King united the courts and is currently ruling over them with Erec as his heir. And Julian told Thule!Livvy his true name before leaving. And Thule!Liivvy is around seventeen or eighteen, which is the age Kit and Ty will be in TWP. I cant help but assume that Kit and Ty will encounter Thule!Livvy at some point because they're around the same age- maybe by Kit and Ty somehow ending up in Thule!Faerie?

Also, Thule!Mark is missing and we can assume he's with the Wild Hunt in Faerie, which does not have the blight as the mortal world in Thule, meaning there's a strong chance that he and Janus (due to his extra angel blood) are literally the only two candidates for still retaining their Shadowhunter powers, which may tie in to the third book's title- The Last Shadowhunter. And obviously the second book is related to the epilogue of the Lost Book of the White, and the events of the Black Volume of the Dead.

Besides, the problem that Dru goes to Faerie for at the start of TLKoF? I bet it's Jaime being missing. CC said everyone's looking for a solution to the problem, so either everyone at this point knows about the missing Jaime and can't trace him in Faerie (because Kieran would know where he is on Unseelie lands), or it's another demonic problem. I bet the separate problem Kit and Ty are having is related to Livvy's ghost.

Also, remember the dreams Clary had in the early mortal instruments? Of her seeing Jace and Sebastian circle each other, Jace with white wings and Sebastian with black wings? Well, that didn't happen, but there IS someone who looks like Sebastian and has black wings- Ash. And conversely there IS someone who looks like Jace, too- Kit. Who hasn't sprouted white wings yet, but has fey heritage just like Ash. They're technically related, even- the Seelie Queen is Kit's great great great whatever grandmother, so they even partly trace the same lineage. Somehow I think the prophetic dreams Clary had were not of Jace and Sebastian, but Kit and Ash.

All this to say i have no idea how I'm going to wait 1.5 more years for TLKoF. Istg I'll have finished a PhD by the time this series finally ends

[asoulofatlantis]

The game basically telling us Vita will be back as on Anguis eventually...

Duvalie and McBurn as well.

And this is the game telling you that you are to exspect Cedric to be still babysitted by Shirley next time we see them... not that I am complaining XD

And now we are ready for Riveri! I am looking forward to playing the localized version of it.

A few more words about CS4 tho.

What I can certainly say about this game, is that it isn’t exactly the best among them and after CS2, probably the worst of the overall Cold Steel Saga. The first half of the game was exhausting if nothing else and often annoying. The reasoning behind new Class7 being pushed was stupid at best. The game had any chance to use better explanations that weren’t putting original class7 in a bad place, but they chose to do otherwise, which was not exactly an intelligent move. Especially not when you are more fond of original class7 and less fond of new class7. I think that was overall an issue of this game too. Despite the fact that new class7 was constantly forced on you, they failed you take them time to make you grow more fond of the characters, you hardly see any character development from them (Altina aside) throughout the game - which can granted be do to not much time passing in this game, but as they didn’t feel as likeable in CS3 already as they should have, CS4 should have put more effort into making them more likeable. Instead, we get Juna absolutely disrespecting original Class7 and their feelings or situation while they are all mourning the less of their friends and family members. Kurt might have faced Cedric in the end, but it never felt like a real conclusion for them, given that Cedric ran away and Kurts purpose and role is still as lost as it was before and so is the one he wanted to be close friends with. Musse did return to Class7, but it was not like she really wanted to leave in the first place, she managed her plan and then went back to desperately search for an alternative because she didn’t like her own plan and to top that off, her whole calculation-power that was put so high at first turned out to be nothing but a lot of luck, given the many events in this game alone that she could not foresee that could or would have turned the tides quite a lot. Ash has come back to new class7 fairly fast as well but if anything, he is the one of them who actually grew a bit, as he understood his own mistakes and was feeling remorse and all that and you can see with him that he is a bit more honest with himself and about his feelings. The growth everyone claimed new class7 went through, is only truly visible in him. Altina is a different story of course, but Altina was different already in CS3, simply because we knew her from CS2 and her evolution since then took some time and some heartbreak and so was only truly visible after we lost Millium. However, her strong attachment to Rean stayed the same all the while, just like Musses annoying and agressive flirting with Rean. So since no one really moved forward, despite the game trying to make you think they did, it is hard to change your mind about them. I mean... why should you? New class7 aside, there are some plot holes, weird plot points and some other questionable choices in the game that also make it harder to bear. For example: In the beginning it is said Agate is missing later he is just there and no one comments about it. And why do we talk about the taste of ale? Did we really have to play a card-game AND some crossbellian-version of Tetris as a minigame? (Yes, you don’t have to do them, but there are waiting great rewards for you, useful rewards, IF you manage to find and win against all the players...) Did we really need all those bathing-scenes? ^^’ To be fair tho, CS4 has some of the greatest moments and scenes in the Cold Steel Saga. And as I have said time and time again, no game has ever drawn that many (and strong) emotions from me. Be it being really pissed off about Junas behavior at the beginning, being proud of how far certain characters have come, being happy to be reunited with some of the characters or the immense joy upon seeing the golden ending. Also some sadness here and there, of course, given how we face the deaths of Rutger and some others - so much about nobody dying in this game.

So I guess in the end. This game is slightly better then mediocre good.

But it has Rean and it has Class7 and Olivert and Erebonia and Shirley and I am pretty sure I will return to this game once more eventually. Although I have to admit I need a longer break from it this time. I feel like I played this game every year for 3 years now and its not good enough to replay it every year ^^’

Our next curse of action will be beginning the Remake of stories of seasons “A wonderful life” and interrupting it to play through riveri.

In the meantime, I will play some of my lazy games. Like Sims 4, Universim, Two Point Campus maybe or Planet Zoo.

See you soon!

[peppasstuff]

One Act Play

Theme: Frustration, Attention, Power

Length:One-act-play

Mode: Comedy

Medium: English

Setting(Time and Place); Late Summer and Living Room

Character/s: Sam, Vincent, Luna and Geo

What will be your name in the play: Vincent

What will you be like?: Wife

Who else can be part on your dream role? Luna, The Maid Ella, A Neighbor Vincent Rivera, The Husband

What will he/they be like?: Maid, Neighbor, Fisherman, Husbańd

Narration: The living room of a typical shore cottage the rented kind; outer door, rear center;

door to kitchen, left; writing desk against wall, right; two or three chairs, cheap stand.

[Curtain discovers Vincent stretched on the couch reading a magazíne, and Sam writing at the desk. Vincent closes the magazine slowly, holds it away from himover the edge of the couch and, with an expression of exhausted hopelessness, lets it fall to the floor. He groans feebly

VINCENT: What's the use? What's the use?

SAM:[tuning a face, sympathetic but preoccupied] Something in the magazine, dear?

SAM: [letting his feet hangover, speaks in a wearied, sing-song voice] The strange woman's

face in the throng- pale, alluring, baffling- with lips like poppy- and that sort of thing. The wind

carving her figure as in warm and sentient marble. Ankles and so on. Perfectly inflamed, our

hero pursues her, careless of the hereafter, reckless of the eyes of the world. Of a sudden, a

vision of his beloved one- at sword sort of thing-and-I didn't read any further. I don't need to. I

know he'll turn around and go home, Sam. Home!

SAM: /still busy with her letter]Fancy!

VINCENT: (starting up with a feverish energy amd kicking the magazine across the floor] They're all the same. That's what's the matter with America! /Relapses on the couch, crosses his arms

over his head and goes on speaking to the ceiling in a tone of musing.] Thank God-er-that is-the gods-nothing like that can ever happen to ás. Isn't it fearful to think of one's spirit cooped up

between four narrow walls like that? [Sam nods, without turning her head.] Now I would have

followed that ankle, wouldn't I? I would have followed it-till it turned to ashes in my-huh-hum-

well, you know. And then, when I came back to you enriched, bringing the spoils of a profound

experience, Saml- you wouldn't mind!

SAM:(looking up now] Mind? Why should I mind, Vincent? Can a thing of that sort tamper with the essential qualities of our relationship? No, No! We've learned better than that, you and I.

VINCENT:[siting p again, with waxing enthusiasm] And you! You'll always feel quite free,too?

You'll never let the silly little inhibitions-

SAM:fenergetically] No, no!

VINCENT: Someday there may be nice chap- I'd rather have it a nice chap-

SAM: Like Ella, Say

VINCENT: [with a slight start] Ella?/Sam 's attention has returned to her letter once more. She folds it, puts it in an envelope and addresses it. Carl,studying her with a light of uneasy speculation, goes on after a moment.] I'm afraid it would raise a bit of the devil in the Painter house, Sam; that's all. You know, Mrs. Ella isn't exactly-our kind. (Sam, still about her business, rises and places the letter among others on top of the desk. Afier another moment, Vincent breaks out in atone of obvious relief.] But he isn't home.you know.

SAM: (turning suddenly to face him] And why isn't he home? Why is he staying away so long?

It's over two months now that he's been away.

VINCENT:[ at a loss] Why-why-I don't know. He probably finds the finishing good down there in Maine, or wherever he is. I-I hadn't thought.

SAM: I had. Vincent l, there's something in the woodpile, I tell you. Mrs.Ella is distinctly evasive. It's all so unnatural. We all came down to this corner of the shore to have a nice, quite summer. And then, of a sudden, he packs up and is gone over night-and no sign of his coming back. There's something behind it, Vincent.

VINCENT: [rising and pacing the floor-petulantl] Pshaw-pshaw! There's the woman cropping out. Pshaw! Why shouldn't he go off fishing and stay as long as he wants to?

SAM: (ignoring the outburst] Iv'e been thinking of nothing for a week but Ella.

VINCENT: [stopping short and staring at her] You have! fafier an instant of confrontation, he sits down weakly on the couch, mops his brow with his handkerchief, and then recovers himself sufficiently to resume in a tone tinctured with venom.] I must say, Sam, this rather sudden interest in one of my oldest friends

SAM: You don't mind?

VINCENT: Mind? (He has the grace to blush.] Oh, m-m-mind? Why? Good heavens, Sam, wh-wh-why should I mind?

SAM: I knew you wouldn't. And, after all, it's his wife I'm concerned about. Poor thing-stranded here all alone.

VINCENT:(more than ever ashamed of himself, mopping his brow vigoroushy] Whew! It's darned hot, I say! I think I'll have a glass of milk, if you'd be so good, Sam. That's a dear.

SAM: (crosses to door at left and calls out.] Luna! Luna!

VOICE OFF-STAGE: Huh?

SAM: Bring Mr. Rivera a glass of milk- right away. And how many times have I told you to say "ma'am" when you speak to me?

VINCENT: (deprecatingly) Why should she say ma’am? After all, my dear, you know she is-

SAM: [turning upon him with some petulance] There are times, Vincent, when your theories-

VINCENT: [quickly] My theories, Frances , are identical with yours; the only point of variance being that I am willing to practice them at home. [Rising, he transfixes his wife with a didactic forefinger. We all talk so largely of the Brotherhood of Man. And yet here is a young girl, a really splendid sort of creature in a way, living close to the throbbing heart of Mother Earth.

SAM: finterrupting] Close to the throbbing heart of the kitchen range, you'd better say. For all your find talk, you don't know any more about her than I do, and that's not a blessed thing-not one single blessed thing, Vincent. For all we know, she may be-oh, for heaven's sake, Vincent, stop looking that way!

VINCENT: [resuming with a heavy, ironical patience] Living close to the throbbing heart of Mother Earth, feeling the life- pulse of the Cosmos-well-damn it all-she's precisely the kind of thing we writ about and talk and make gestures about, the lot of us- you know. Only she is it. She lives it. Shes got something we've lost. Sometimes, you know, my dear, I almost feel-I do feel-in a way.

SAM: (coolly] Yes?

VINCENT: A strange spiritual bon with that creature-something drawing me-irresistibly-like the pull of green things and the damp earth-weird-almost-ah-Pilocene ugh-by the way, you don't mind?

SAM: fwith difficultyy] Mind?

VINCENT: chin in hand] In a way, you know, she's got something or other that we-

[Enter LUNA, carrying a glass of milk on a server]

VINCENT: Ah!

[ With an unwonted energy he moves a small stand beside the couch, half reclines, and waves Luna to deposit the glass on the stand. As she does so he gently captures her hand in his. She endeavors to recover it, profoundly embarrassed, casts a frightened glance at the mistress, then, evidently deciding in her numb and docile brain that this is the accepted thing, remains inert, staring ponderously at her boot-toes.]

VINCENT: [resumes in a tone of dreaming] I wonder if you've ever thought much about yourself, Luna? You wouldn't, though. You wouldn't-that's just the matter with us . No, of course you wouldn't- (Turning to Sam] She wouldn't, would she? [Turning back. ] We've been wondering if you knew how wonderful you are. Luna? Because you are wonderful. You're out of your age. In a world staggering under a Freud, a Trotsky, a Marconi, the Republic of China, and the Imagist Poets you've managed somehow to slip back to the great, all-brooding fundamentals-FoodShelter-Procreatio-

SAM: Vincent!

VINCENT: [mpatiently, to Sam] That, I believe, is the order in which they come. [Lights cigarette.] Or- perhaps I'm wrong. Of course, my deár, if you want to get into philosophics and metaphysics I grant you the old argument does the hen come first and the egg second, or the egg first and the hen

SAM: Vincent! That is a young girl!

[Exit Luna.)

VINCENT: [with an air of hopelessness, shaking his head slowly] Frances, Frances, are we to be always like that? Always slipping back into the old fog-bound superstitions of the mid-Victorian home?

SAM: Oh be quiet, please. It isn't that! You ought to know me well enough by this time. But -but she wouldn't understand. If she could understand-ifit would do her any good-enlarge her life in the least, Vincent-

VINCENT: Understand? Of course she doesn't understand. Do we want her to understand, my dear girl? Enlarge her life? Look, here, my dear, I'm serious. That girl has got something or other that neither you nor I-or any of us in the-the group-could come to in a thousand years of self-centered and spiritual crucifixion-She has got

SAM: [ironically] Exactly what? (Rising)

VINCENT: [inexpressibly shocked at the Philistine question] Why, Sam! Whywhy, she has got she's got-see here, Frances, you know what I mean as well as I do. For heaven's sake, after two years of our talks-our trying to find the the-in our little group, you know-Look here, Sam, you've talked as primitive as anyone. And now you stand here and ask-/Glancing out of the window, he speaks with an air of relief at the diversion.] Oh, here comes Mrs. Ella up the steps.

SAM: fin confusion, extending the half-smoked cigarette] Oh, quick! Take this! [VINCENT starts take it, furtively; then as if bethinking hinself, draws back and confronts her with a grim disapprobation.]

VINCENT: Sam!

SAM: You idiot! [A knock is heard at the door. Sam, wasting no time in further argument, skips about in desperate search for aplace to hide the incriminating object.)

VINCENT: feven more sternly] Frances! Are we to be always that--that kind? (Sam faces him defiantly: then, shamed by his superior sense of honor, puts the cigarette between her lips and pufjs conscientiously. Knocking resumes.] Come in!

(Enter Mrs. Ella]

MRS.ELLA: with a moderate effusivenessto Vincent] Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Rivera. I was just coming up from the beach, you know, and I thought I'd-[ Catching sight of Sam in a cloud of smoke, she gasps, stares desperately at the floor, the ceiling, the desk; then sinks down in a chair.] drop in!

VINCENT: [suavely] Terribly glad. When's mort coming home?

MRS.ELLA: -–he hasn't/Looks from one to the other with a sudden suspicion; then rises

majestically and confronts Sam with an icy accusation.) Mrs. Rivera, your husband asked me that question ten seconds ago, and, if I'm not mistaken, you heard me answered him. (Bursting into tears and stamping her feet.] Oh, oh, oh! I won't stand it! Oh, you're şo mean always pecking at me-

VINCENT: /aghast] Pecking?

SAM: [the same] Pecking at you?

MRS.ELLA: Yes, pecking at me! (She sinks down in the chair, and burying her face in her hands, gives way to uncontrollable grief. The others exchange inquiring glances, shrug their shoulders, and sign with the helpless bewilderment of the falsely accused. By and by Mrs. Ella begins to speak, her cheeks pressed in her palms, eyes fixed vacancy.] I suppose you might as well know. You'll have to, some time. Mor- is-never-coming

SAM: WHAT!

VINCENT: Old mort? Good old mort? For heaven' sake, why not?

MRS.ELLA: You remember the maid we engaged down here the first summer-Abbie Small? Well, she got in trouble. Oh yes, Mort denied it-and denied it and denied it. He would, of course. We got her out of the way immediately; sent her up to the Rescued Magdalene's Home in the city. We couldn't do less. I know the place; it's good and clean and wholesome-not at all like an institution. They have their amusements and things. And--and -[She suffers a momentary relapse into tears. Vincent begins to pace the floor, wrapped in thought. She resumes gravely.] And Mort, when he found at last that the wool would not_ be pulled over my eyes, packed up his things and went away... Perhaps it is best.

VINCENT: [wheeling on her] Best! You can say- Best? My God! [Nothing her look of alarm, in a gentler tone.] You must forgive me, Mrs. Ella. Sitting down on the end of the evangelist.] You say it is best, by your lights. And by my lights, I say it is worse. Worse, because it seems to me you are missing the fundamental significance of life; that you are deliberately shutting the door on life; that you are throwing away an experience! You three! Think of it! How wonderful a thing! Passing together, hand in hand, through the unfolding hours of a miracle! You three!

MRS.ELLA: frecovering the faculty of speech at last Are you crazy? (Appealing to Sam.] Is -is the man-insane?

SAM: with a smile, half sad, half lifted] No, Mrs. Ella. It seems to me he is precisely sane. We have been thinking about it a good deal Vincent and I, and we-

MRS.ELLA: (rising] Mrs. Vera! I can't say how deeply I-Am-LReally, I think I'd better be going.

SAM: (ntercepting her] Now-now! Don't take on so, my dear. Pshaw! You mustn't go off in a huff like this -must she, Vincent? See here; sit down and we' ll have a cup of tea..[Calling Luna! Luna!

VINCENT: Yes, yes-do please sit down. [Calling.] Luna! Luna! Aside.] Where is that girl? [To others.] Wait a second; I'll go hurry her up. (Exit.]

MRS.ELLA: (sobbing genthy into her handkerchief] But my dear, my dear. You couldn't talk that way- either of youif you had been through it yourselvesif you know if you knew the torment of the day-when the girl came to me and told me she wasn't smart?

SAM: [quizzically] Not smart.

MRS.ELLA: Yes. That's the way they put it down here when they are-expecting.

SAM: How quaint! Not smart. Fancy. [Enter Vincent.] Oh, Carl, my dear, Mra.Ella has just been telling me the quaintest thing.

MRS.ELLA: (drawing up and recovering her dignity.] It is a thing I should rather not discuss in-mixed company. Especially with Mr. Rivera

VINCENT: Oh, come now, Mrs. Ella. Don't let's quarrelóver-overabstractions. See here, we'll have some tea and we'll all feel better... Where's that gil? boots.)

(Enter Luna, a dish in one hand, dish-towel in the other. She stands staring gloomily at her

LUNA: Yeh?

SAM: /suggestively] Ma'am?

LUNA: Mom.

SAM: That's better. Now, will you bring the tea thingsquickly!

LUNA: Yeh-mom! (She remains standing there, however.]

SAM: (sharply] Well?

[Luna does not answer. Her lower lip sags; her knees bend a little, and the dish, escaping her

nerveless fingers, crashes on the floor.]

SAM: Good heavens! What is the matter with you? Speak!

LUNA: dully, staring at the floor] I ain't sma't.

MRS.ELLA: favidly] Not smart?

SAM: fweakly, tottering a little and putting her hand to her throat] Not smart?

VINCENT: protesting expansively] Not smart? Dear creature! Oh, you wonderful, simple, primitive creature! Smartness! Pah! [Turning on the others savagely.] Don't sit there looking at

me so-aghast-as if I were uttering heresies. Smart? We are smart -you-and -youand I. And look at us. (Turning back to Luna.] No, no my dear girl. You are not smart, and heaven send you soul something a thousand times more precious than smartness, an element of wisdom-

SAM: Vincent!

MRS. ELLA : [almost screaming] It isn't that, you fool! It isn't that she means by "not smart." Dont you know what it means down here? Why it means that one is in a delicate-

VINCENT: Delicate? You say delicate!" And I say, don't talk to me of delicacy! No, no; look at me as hard as you want to; there's something more priceless in the world than delicacy! We're immersed in it. Yes, rl say it -immersedall the vile little soul stifling inhibitions of soap and tooth-brush, Chinese potteries. I see that I shock you. Well, I am willing to shock you you, Mrs.Ella, and you, my dear Frances. But I tell you that if this girl here this splendid,deep-bosomed, ox-eyed earth-woman, is not delicate, then as for me

MRS.ELLA: [desperately] I didn't say not delicate!" I said in a delicate

VINCENT: [putting his hand to his brow with a sudden new suspicion of light- very weakly] In a delicate what?

MRS.ELLA: Condition!

VINCENT: [sitting down abruptly on the couch and staring into vacancy-after a pause-in a wondering whisper] ConditIon? (TableauLuna staring at her boots; the two women staring at Vincent; Vincent staring at nothing, By and by he turns his head, and starts violently as he meets the accusing yes.] What are you looking at me for? (Seized by a sudden panic, he shakes wild hands at them] Stop looking at me! Stop it, I say! Stop looking at me! Stop stop-stop! The idea-

SAM: Vincent! Oh-Vincent! Vincent!

MRS.ELLA: with a stately sweep to the door] I am afraid I shall have to say Good evening! (Exit in a blaze of glory.]

SAM: with great difficulty-to Luna) You may leave the room.

[Exit Luna, her eyes still on the floor. Carlgazes after her, blank and helpless. As the door closes, Sam sinks on her knees beside the desk, and hiding herface in her hands, shakes with the tumult of her woe, sobbing a muffled "Vincent, Vincent"from time to time. Carsales back and forth rapidly.)

VINCENT: Frances! Ten minutes ago I would have called the man a liar who told me that you, my wife, had a such low-suspicious-mind. Do you hear me? Good God, Sam! [Receiving no

reply, he subsides on the couch and mops his face. Afier a moment he resumes in a harassed soliloqıuy) The world is full of low minds, I suppose-- eternally ready to suspect the worst- licking their lickerish lips for a chance at a man's good name. Pah! [He groans]... Of course, the girl must be gotten away from here immediately. Sam! (Still hearing no answer, he jumps up and move toward her.] See here! Pull yourself together. There are arrangements to make. This poor creature can't be left here to face the sneers of these damned, narrow-souled provincials. She is, in a sense, a-a dependent of ours. It seems to me we can't do less than to send her away to

some place where she will be looked aftercared for. Understood -in the city. Sam, will you listen to me? [Grasping her shoulder, not too gently, he tries to uncover her face. She uncovers it herself.]

SAM: [with suppressed fury] Please don't touch me!

VINCENT: [snapping] Stop it! Stop it, I say!

SAM: Don't touch me!

VINCENT: retreating weakly] But-but I keep telling you-

SAM: Please don't keep telling me anything. I can't comprehend anything now. My brain won't work. I think I am going crazy. (She shivers.]

VINCENT: desperately] But I tell youIt-was n't-ME!

SAM: [her shoulders dropping hopelessly] Denials! Denials! I think I might have been spared this.

VINCENT: But it WASN'T, you know!

SAM: (drearily] If you must make a brute of yourself, you might have been a gazelle-not a jackal. [Vincent stares at her a moment, fascinated; then takes a dazed turn about the room. Somewhere in the circuit he discovers a litle spirit of his own.]

VINCENT: But if it had been, Sam-

SAM: in a sarcastic echo] If it had been-

VINCENT: You wouldn't mind, would you?

SAM: (shrinking backa step, as before an unfair blow] M-m-mind? (And then witha terrible gaiety.)

Mind? I? ha-ha-ha-ha

VINCENT: [relieved] Ah, that's better. That's more like my gil. I knew you wouldn't-even if it-if it -had been.

SAM: Ha-ha-ha-ha

VINCENT: That's right. And now let's think. Have we got a time-table in the house, with connections? And, oh yes, about that address! The what-you-may-call-it Magdalenes' Home. We must get it from Mrs. Ella.The girl mustn't stay here for a moment more than is absolutely necessary.

SAM: (sitting down] What are you talking about?

VINCENT: That place in the city. Mrs. Ella thinks well of it.

SAM: What has that got to do with it?

VINCENT: [ blankly] Why Why-

SAM: Of course, the young woman is to rerńain with us.

VINCENT: WHAT!

SAM: [blandly] Naturally. Why, Vincent, how queer you talk! We you and I-are not going to miss the fundamental significance of life, are we? Were not deliberately going to shut the door on life? We three?

VINCENT: [terribly] I must say, my dear girl, this is a poor time for facetiousness.

SAM: [untouched] We three! Passing together, hand in hand, through the unfolding hours of a miracle

VINCENT: (ponderously] Frances, you are very unkind. You will never-understand me.

SAM: Understand you?

VINCENT: Not in the deeper sense. You are a woman, after all. You still cling pathetically to the grammar- school notion that two and two makes four.

SAM: (unmoved] Ah! And that theories are to be put in practice at home?

VINCENT: [haggardly] Theories! My God! Theories! Ideals! Dreams! Ah, if one could but afford to dream! With a heavy wistfulness.] But that is for the angles, and the young. Happy youth, unencumbered, foot-free

SAM: All of which is to say-

VINCENT: Hang take it all. My affairs are in a delicate conditionFlinches at the word.] -er-it's a

confounded precarious period in my career, my dear girl. Another year, who knows, and I may arrive -if nothing happens. After all, we owe a little something to my career.

SAM: Ah! Your career!

VINCENT: And to our own folks-yours and mine. And-andand to your good -name.

SAM: Quite some good name. You are beginning to think even of that.

VINCENT: fin desperation] But I keep telling you-a loud knock is heard at the outer door. Vincent, stepping to the window, cranes out, then, with a look of consternation, runs and sets his back against the door. It's that Painter woman? What are we going to do?

SAM: Do? What should we do, when everything is so sweet and natural?

VINCENT: Sam, are you insane?

SAM: No, I am precisely-sane. [Another knock.] Let her in, please

VINCENT: [n a pleading whisper] Sam! Sam! [A loudef knock.]

SAM: fcalling] Come in!

[mattzerella-sticks]

Just a thought I had after seeing  the announcement of the Big 8 Conference of Pokemon trainers for the final arc of the Royal Championship Tournament with Ash, but with this new region and game coming out I don’t see a future for the Pokemon anime with Ash as the protagonist anymore after this series.

Like, whether he wins or loses against Leon I think Ash will be stepping down from being the protagonist of the series. If he wins, there’s nowhere else for him to go forward so it does beg the question ‘why’ of him starting over again in a new region. It’ll make no sense for them to nerf Pikachu for this new region. If he loses, I don’t see why that would be motivation for him to go to a new region and engage in the same type of stuff he’s already done before despite not doing so with this latest incarnation (the Galar region).

Which brings me to this point - I think, if Ash steps down, either Chloe, Goh, or both, are his replacements.

I think that’s why we’ve gotten this kind of story in Pokemon Journeys because the writing is on the wall for Ash and he’s going to pass the baton on to a newer generation.

Does this make sense? Well, thinking about it I believe both Goh and Chloe were based on the sprites from Pokemon’s I Choose You Pikachu/Eevee, which was a reboot of the Pokemon Red series which started it all (with the protagonist, Red, who Ash is based off of). I think the final arc of Pokemon Journeys won’t have anything to do with Ash but instead be about Goh finally capturing Mew - or realizing he doesn’t have to capture Mew, but after completing that goal means Goh will need something else to chase after. You also have Chloe, whose character arc this series has been about figuring out what she wants to pursue and whether or not she and Eevee can bond. Plus, recent years have done a LOT to push Eevee to the forefront of the series along with Pikachu, so if they do decide to switch Pikachu for Eevee I wouldn’t be surprised. I could see both of them going off to the new region to explore while Ash either goes off to train for the next World Championships or fulfills his responsibilities as the strongest trainer in the world. Goh goes to compete in his own type of training so he can face off against Ash (because as we know Ash’s love language is battling, and I mean that in like the purest ways Ash communicates best when he’s in the midst of battle and it’s helped connect him to so many people afterwards). I also see Chloe maybe going with him in with her Eevee as she pursues contests (because I think they’re bringing that back again what with the emphasis on both Dawn and Serena coming back and pitching Chloe with it). Maybe the third in their posse is someone from the region specifically or that white-haired kid with the Bayleaf (or maybe he stays on with Project Mew if Goh decides he no longer wants to capture Mew, who knows).

I’ll end this by saying it’s children’s animation and it doesn’t have to be that deep, but the fact that this season broke the formula they’ve been working with for so many years shows that they are open and willing to change how they operate and tell the story. They tested the waters with Alola and then completely threw the script away for Journeys. Could they continue on like Journeys, just without the Championship arc and keep it grounded in Goh and Ash travelling around and learning about Pokemon, helping where they can? Maybe. But I see this getting staler faster than the original storyline.

Journeys is special, and I don’t think we’ll get a season like this for a long while. I would not be surprised if this is Ash’s last season, and they retire his character to let Goh and Chloe pick up the narrative.

[estarion]

astarion died unattached.  the closest he got to ‘love’ was watching it transpire on stages.  he adored the theatre.  his betrothed was an avid fan, too, he’d learned through letters exchanged since both were single digits.  he was determined to learn how to ‘perform’ love for her one day—and be good at it.  he saw a play the last month of his life, was begged by the playwright—a half-elf second son of a prominent family—to convince more members of high society to come watch. astarion was iffy until told he was the inspiration behind the leading role.  a strong, beautiful character, he was promised.  a tragic character, too—it turned out!  astarion and his colleagues sat in lofty balcony seats whilst an entire elven civilisation was brought down to ashes because the lead, their stupid prince, fell for this enigmatic human princess who exposed all his secrets to orcs.  she only wanted to save her people ... she didn't count on falling in love.  at the end she slew the orc who slew her prince and cried how sorry she was whilst embracing his head ... severed—like the kiss he and akina just shared.

his colleagues were mortified.  pissed.  it partly had to do with astarion shrieking and laughing at scenes that made everyone else squeamish. the biggest issue was that the majority present were, in fact, elves.  a woman over twice his age turned to him and asked, in the mother tongue, something to the effect of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you, child?’   consensus among his group was:  never let astarion's vanity guide an outing, also you really cannot trust humans.  the moral of the story, in their eyes.  astarion felt there surely must have been more to it than that.   ‘humans aren't so bad!’   he once thought it about akina, too, didn't he?  she’s not so bad.  she’ll provoke strangers for him to kill then let him fuck her in the wild drenched in blood, but she’s not bad at all.  monster hunters are already on his trail.  he ran into one a few weeks ago, told nobody.  astarion had a genuinely pleasant chat with the man just before ending the conversation with a dagger to that twinkling eye.  gandrel wasn’t just a hunter, but a gur who knew his name, a descendant of the very tribe who killed astarion two hundred years ago.  he hadn’t expected his vampiric quarry to be standing directly in front of him, bathed in sunlight.  astarion knows it was more than karma.  it was poetry.  it was cazador.

now there is akina, and her weird problem that she’s made into their weird problem.  the future is returning to fog;  there are no more horses, no carriage, no coffin.  maybe the reason he can’t see them anymore is because he’s eased out of her grasp, spine to ground with akina above, eclipsing the entire sky. endless hair gives her the appearance of a dark willow, not weeping but at least she has the decency to seem remorseful.  she’s between his legs. his chest is vulnerable, a stake still lingering somewhere near. he spreads his knees further, merely to avoid any part of him touching any part of her. fingers tangle in the grass.  akina is not the woman he intended to marry but maybe he can perform for her, because, in addition to so many things conspiring to destroy him right now, there's still the river and the possibility of drowning her.  he’s already so close to an expulsion of bloodbile, it’d cover them both.  an excuse to bathe together.  he knows how to exacerbate his sickness, too;  he’ll simply ask this one thing.   “who is it?  the person that is so important to you...”   eyes that once darted, excited, left and right at blood and gore spewing artistically upon a fictional stage, are calmly flitting between one light and one dark eye.  maybe he was wrong.  maybe he does want to touch her.  astarion reaches up, testing his theory, night-temperature palm to her soft, warm cheek.  he releases a sigh and, with it, the blackest of his thoughts. his chest is empty, then full again.  “never mind.  keep your secrets.  but, why me?  when did you make this wretched deal...?  could we not just hand off shadowheart instead?”  do not judge him, his mind is racing...

 her lover was a quiet man , never voiced anything unless it involved his displeasure and he's never really smiled at people too much . a grumpy man , if it wasn't for the light in his eyes whenever he saw akina , she wouldn't even get close to him . but she was different to him , she was the red dot in the middle of his blank page and akina couldn't help thinking that he probably was in the skies , in behind the gates of heaven , waiting for her to do something ! there was a weight on her shoulders ever since jito died , inevitable not to think about the possibility of his rebirth and maybe a chance to say sorry . she stares at her hands , scratches on a died piece of scab on her finger as astarion speaks — astarion is different . and so similar to jito , one thing was that astarion didn't lie . she used to hate it , but she grew fond of his bluntness even in the face of danger and despite sounding very rude .

 she tucks some of her black locks behind her ears , then places her hands on her knees . this tender twitch of her lips annoy her when he mentions his quite fixed plans for the future . maybe a carriage , horses , a coffin , nowhere to stay because they're strays . going around the world forever , astarion anyway because akina is going to grow old . & he's not the type of man to stay loyal to an old woman , she'd never let him see her that way . the first strand of white in the waterfall of black hair would be her cue , he might be a vampire but he can't be as sneaky as a woman who has to run away . ❛ coffins . . . ❜  she mutters after him , would he let her sleep in it with him ? hold his white head to her chest and let him sleep listening to the heartbeat he doesn't have . where is she going to sleep if he doesn't ? it's not like she'll let him sleep without touching her , what if it's cold ? what if she's having a nightmare ? her hands hook on the edge of the seat she's seated to help her get up to her feet . but not to go back to the group , they both had to be sure that their company isn't the most enjoyable one for those people .

 wordlessly , she's kneeling on the grass . knees sinking onto the green ground between his own knees . chin held up to catch his red gaze , her hands falling on his chest with a slightly rough , and tired demeanor to pull him closer . a kiss , head tilting and eyes closing , only opening her eyes when she stops kissing him to stare into his eyes instead — noting the black rings under his eyes . he looks his age from this distance , old , very old and tired , she can't stop staring at him . ❛ . . . i have to tell you something . ❜  comes a soft whisper , palms against his chest this time to stop any possibilities of another kiss when they're talking about more serious matters ; the sacrifice of an oblivious vampire , for a boy who didn't even like her true self . a soft wince paints delicate features as she gulps , tucking her hair behind her ear again . is there an easier way to say this ? should she even say this when her plans have changed ? the wizard made it clear when he was going to find her and take what she promised him – and she'd give astarion up with both hands . astarion needs to know . ❛ i — i wanted to – but i don't want to anymore . you know . . i ❜  breathe squeezed in her lungs , just do it . her hands cuo his face and level their gazes , her lips purse . ❛ i wanted to sacrifice your soul to a wizard . ❜  a few seconds for it to sink , then she keeps explaining , quietly , slowly . ❛ it was a deal . it was going to be a ritual to bring someone from the dead . i'm telling you this because he will come for you soon . and i will - i will be there i won't let anything hurt you . . i- i'm sorry . ❜

[derpinathebrave]

Finders Keepers - IceMav SpyAu Part 1 - Finding

READ ON AO3

So I got the brain rot again! We were talking SpyAu and IceMav dads on the discord and now this. Don't take it too seriously, this is 100% just me dicking around and making myself happy.

SUMMARY: “Don’t get attached, Mitchell,” Ice said, mumbling soft enough that the kid wouldn’t hear but the words were piped through the earpiece to Mav.

Maverick gave him a look of mild disinterest before returning his attention to the kid. Just because Ice was a cold-hearted bastard, didn’t mean Maverick had to be. There was nothing wrong with being kind to a child that they had rescued from a house of traffickers. It wasn’t like he was about to adopt it...

TAGS: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, OC Child Character, Ron "Slider" Kerner, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Bill "Cougar" Cortell, Mike "Viper" Metcalf, Rick "Jester" Heatherly, Fluff, Family Fluff, Literally found family, MavDad, IcePops, SpyAU, Very Mild Violence, Spycraft innacuracies, Mild mentions of human trafficking, Selective Mutism, No Beta we die like goose.

WORDS: 7808

PART 1 - PART 2

Minor Content Warning: NPC death, mild violence, minor mentions of trafficking, minor mentions of kidnapping.

There was a lingering smell of smoke, ash and charred flesh in the air. Mav had thought that after ten years of doing this, he would be used to it. Now he was starting to suspect it wasn’t something you got used to. 

With a sweep of his eyes he scanned the room. From the busted window he had come through, across the shattered television and half-broken half-burned pinewood dresser, to the other side of the room where the bed was spattered with blood and still smouldering a little. Mav used one of the pillows to beat the embers out. There was no movement. The body at his feet thoroughly incapacitated. 

“Mav, why do I smell smoke?” Ice’s voice cut into his head through the earpiece. 

“Not your concern, Iceman,” Mav replied, tossing the cushion down and pulling his shotgun back to his shoulder.

“You loaded incendiaries, didn’t you?” 

Maverick could practically see the scolding expression on Ice’s face. He rolled his eyes as he carefully picked his way across the room the the door opposite. 

“That’s none of your concern either,” Maverick said quietly.

He stepped around the doorframe, clearing the room shotgun-first. It was a hall. He had stepped into it near the end. To his left he could see the darkness of stairs descending. To the right were more doors. Four more, to be exact. All of them closed.

Mav paused, listening. There was a shuffling and a rapidly muffled voice. Both noises gone too quick for him to nail down which door they were behind. All he could gather was it was the opposite side to where he was lingering. 

He stepped into the hall heading for the next door, only a few paces from him. 

“It concerns me if the house burns down around my ears,” Ice said after a long pause, sounding slightly more strained this time. 

“Relax,” Mav said, barely moving his lips as he spoke in an effort to stay undetected as he sassed Ice back. “I put out the fires I start. Mostly.”

“Minsk.”

It took more than a little effort for him to suppress the startled laugh that threatened. Mav placed his ear to the door and listened. Silence. He pushed the handle down and pushed it in, whipping the shotgun into place and stepping back and to the side. 

Nothing happened. It was a bathroom. An empty bathroom.

“I said ‘mostly’,” Mav replied. 

He stepped back into the hall. 

There was the distinct pop of a suppressed gunshot beneath him. Another two followed it in quick succession. Mav paused. Waiting to hear anything else. 

After a long silence, Mav continued down the hall. He paused at the next door.

A creak of wood was the only warning he got. 

The door exploded outward in a spray of woodchips.

Mav dove to one side, tucking and rolling. His gun was back up and pointed at the destroyed door before he really caught up to what had happened. 

The hinges screamed as the wrecked door was opened. Mav took a long, slow breath in. His eyes were locked to the edge of the doorframe.

The black barrel of a shotgun appeared first. It was swiftly followed by the man wielding it. 

Maverick didn’t think. He pulled the trigger. 

Fire spattered across the man’s chest and the rest of the hall. 

There was a startled shriek, there always was. The man dropped his gun, frantically slapping at the flames on his clothes. 

Mav pulled his pistol out, shooting to kill. The gun was back in his holster before the body hit the floor. He stepped forward, still leading with the shotgun. He checked the room quickly, finding it empty. 

With that done he turned to the body and muffled the flames with the hall rug. 

“Ground floor, clear,” Ice spoke into his head again. 

“Two rooms to go,” Mav said, straightening and heading into the cleared room. He stepped onto the creaky floorboard that had saved his life and smiled a little. 

“I’ll head up.”

The room was another bedroom. It was easy to clear as it was bereft of any real furniture. There was no bedframe, only a single mattress on the floor and the remnants of takeaway food. A closet door set into the wall on the right.

Maverick stilled. There was one other thing in the room. A set of shackles. The chain was looped around the bars of the radiator on the wall, the cuffs empty on the mattress. 

“Ice,” Mav said, staying quiet. “Remind me what we were sent in here to retrieve.”

There was an irritated sigh before Ice replied. “We’re looking for a hard-drive of names and locations.”

Mav turned to face the closet door. His gut began a distracting churn but he pushed it away. 

Ice was still speaking, “The agency got word this was a subsect of the trafficking ring we’ve been hunting for the better part of six months. Do you actually listen when we’re being briefed, or do you just wing everything you do?” Ice’s voice was snarky.

“Thank you, asshole,” Mav remained solemn, unable to rise to Ice’s bait. He approached the closet door. Each step was slow and measured.

He slung the shotgun onto his back and unholstered the pistol. 

The faintest sound of a whimper reached him. 

Maverick winced. He lifted the pistol and pulled the closet open.

A body crashed into his middle. 

Mav went over backward. His training kicked in as he hit the floor. He used the backward momentum to pull the body off him and tumbled it into the far wall. 

There was a pathetic noise of pain.

Mav scrambled back to his feet, his shotgun in his grip again.

Movement in his peripheral caught him. Mav spun, aiming. 

Ice, tall, broad and blond, glared back down the sights of his Ruger. 

They turned simultaneously. The body was still crumpled on the floor against the wall. It resembled a bundle of rags more than a body. If he hadn’t felt the force of it and the bony protrusions, he wouldn’t have recognised it as human. 

He bent and retrieved his fallen pistol. Ice’s weapon now trained on the lump of clothes. 

“The other two rooms aren’t clear,” Mav said, slinging the shotgun behind him again. 

Ice disappeared without a word. 

With a silent sigh, Mav approached the body. He squatted down a few feet from it, pistol casually aimed with one hand as he placed his elbows on his knees. 

“Alright,” he said, voice tired. “That wasn’t enough to knock you out, I know you’re faking.”

Nothing happened. He watched, a wry smile on his face as he noticed the rags rise and fall with breath. Maverick reached out and nudged the closest bit he could. It felt like an arm underneath the folds of grey knit. 

“House is clear. I found the drive,” Ice reported.

Mav nudged the body again. “C’mon, let’s hurry this up.” He sighed shortly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I might even get you out of here. But you have to cooperate.”

The mass of grey shifted. A small, grubby face peeked out from between the arm Mav had poked and what was clearly a hood of a sweatshirt four sizes too big. Brown eyes, wide with fear, locked into his own. The limbs shifted, curling tight and shrinking the size of the human to almost tiny. 

His heart stammered and slammed hard into his sternum. This wasn’t just a trafficking victim. This was a kid. He bit into his inner lip. What the hell was he supposed to do now? This was not how it was supposed to go.

“Hi there,” he said after a long moment. “You ready to get out of here?”

“They aren’t the mission, Mav.” Ice cut through his uncertainty with one sentence. 

“Fuck the mission, Ice,” Mav snapped, sliding his eyes away from the kid. He holstered his pistol. “I’m not leaving them here.”

He glanced back to find the kid pulling the hood back over them. 

“Hey, no, don’t hide. We have to go,” Mav said, softening his tone once more. 

Footsteps announced the arrival of Ice. Mav glanced up long enough to find an exasperated expression on the other man. He turned back to his quarry with a small smile. 

“I’m going to have to pick you up if you won’t walk yourself,” Mav said, still gentle. 

His heart hammered again. He had no idea what he was doing. Somehow having Ice watching him was only making him more aware of that fact. 

There was a long pause. He was about to give up and man-handle the kid out, when the legs unfolded once more and the face appeared among the grey fabric again. 

“Ready to go?” Mav smiled with relief. 

The eyes snapped to Ice. They were still wide with fear. 

Mav could understand. Ice was nothing short of intimidating. His black turtleneck straining over his broad chest and muscled arms. He was still wearing his pissy expression and hadn’t holstered his pistol. There was a back-up strapped to his thigh over his cargo pants and his combat boots were laced with military precision to mid-shin. 

“Don’t mind him,” Mav’s smiile grew. “He’s not as scary as he thinks he is.”

Ice rolled his eyes but kept his reply to himself. 

The brown eyes found Mav’s again. 

He held his hand out. “Ready to go?”

He was given a small nod. Good enough for him. He reached out and pulled the small body to its feet. There was a small squeak of surprise and then silence. 

“Can you walk?” Mav asked, astounded at how little they weighed. 

Another nod. 

“Good.” Mav nodded to Ice. 

The other agent turned on his heel, raising his gun once more and leading the way out of the room. 

Mav took a single step, watching closely as his new charge stumbled and sprawled onto the floor. He winced. 

“Alright, I’m going to carry you. Just until we’re out and in the car, OK?” Mav said gently. He bent and scooped the kid up. The pants dangled almost a foot beyond the end of their legs and the hoodie rucked up unevenly, everything was far too big.

He tossed them a little, resettling his grip more securely. With another small squeak, the face turned and buried itself into his shoulder. Mav ignored the odd sense of affection it gave him. He followed Ice out into the hall. 

They remained quiet, moving swiftly down the stairs and through the ground floor. There were three bodies sprawled on the floor. Mav was glad that his charge had elected to hide their face. 

Mav was growing increasingly alarmed at how little the child in his arms weighed. It barely affected his ability to keep up with Ice as they jogged across the lawn and down to the back street where they had left their vehicle. Ice pulled the door open without a word, waving Mav in. 

He considered depositing the kid and climbing into the front, but at the last moment, he simply climbed into the SUV child and all. Ice swung the door shut behind him. 

“Alright, we’re safe,” Mav whispered. “We’re safe now.”

Ice climbed into the drivers seat, still conspicuously silent. As they set off, Ice driving quick and clean, Mav attempted to put the kid back down on the seat beside him. Small, strong hands had laced themselves into his webbing though, and they were resisting fiercely. He gave up with barely a fight. Instead he shifted the shotgun out from behind his back and leaned more comfortably into the seat. His arm came naturally back around his charge, holding them to his chest once more.

“What’s the plan here, Maverick?” Ice said at last. There was a brittle edge to his voice and Mav felt the kid tense against him.

“Calm down, Ice,” Mav said, voice even. “You aren’t helping by being pissy.”

There was a strangled noise of anger from the front seat but Ice remained silent once more. 

“You’re alright, don’t worry about him,” Mav mumbled down at the kid. 

He was rewarded with the small face appearing once more, staring up at him. Now he wasn’t trying to get them out of a potentially hostile situation, Mav could spend some time looking. The face was small, a pointed chin, grubby cheeks with a dusting of freckles underneath and a mess of mousy brown hair that looked long enough to brush their chin. 

“I’m Mav, by the way,” he said with another smile. “What’s your name?”

The little mouth opened, revealing white, straight teeth. No sound came out and the lips snapped shut once more. 

Unconsciously, he gave the kid a squeeze of affection. “That’s alright, take your time.”

He looked up to find Ice watching him through the rearview mirror. 

“Don’t get attached, Mitchell,” Ice said, mumbling soft enough that the kid wouldn’t hear but the words were piped through the earpiece to Mav. 

Maverick gave him a look of mild disinterest before returning his attention to the kid. Just because Ice was a cold-hearted bastard, didn’t mean Maverick had to be. There was nothing wrong with being kind to a child that they had rescued from a house of traffickers. It wasn’t like he was about to adopt it. He would pass the child over to the agency and carry on with his assignments as normal. 

Things weren’t quite so simple. Maverick sighed as he sat on the hospital bed, the kid still clinging to his chest. Nothing ever was simple, he should know that by now. 

Ice had disappeared to report and debrief as soon as they had made it back. Mav, unable to detach his passenger, had headed to medical. Dr Bill “Cougar” Cortel was standing across from them, arms crossed and a slightly bemused look on his face. 

“I really need to put you down, kid,” Mav tried for the third time. “The doc just needs to make sure you aren’t hurt and that you don’t need anything.”

The little hands on his webbing tightened again. Mav sighed and shook his head at Cougar. 

“That’s alright,” Courgar shrugged. “I’ll just try again in a while.” He shook his head a little before wandering off to sit at his desk and tap rapidly on the computer. 

“I’m not going anywhere, kid,” Mav mumbled. “I’ll be right here. I won’t leave you. I’ll even hold your hand while the doc does his thing.”

He felt the kid twitch but not relent. 

“I’m just worried you’re hurt. Can you just help me out this one time? Let the doc look you over for me?” It was a gamble, who was he to this kid, what right did he have to ask for anything, but he was running out of ideas. Not to mention time before Jester stormed into medical and ordered him to report in. 

There was a small sigh and the fingers loosened off. Mav slid the kid off his lap and onto the bed beside him instead. 

“Cougar,” Mav called, excitement obvious. 

The doctor was back in a heartbeat, stethoscope already in his ears. 

Mav looked away as Cougar did his examination, attempting to give them a little privacy. They were mostly done when the door to the infirmary opened and noise arrived. 

“Shit, it’s true!” Slider boomed, laughing loudly. 

The kid let out a muffled sound of fear and leaped straight back into Mav’s chest. Bony knees caught him in the stomach and he grunted with pain. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms back around the kid. 

“Slider,” Cougar snapped, frowning at the taller man. “This is an infirmary, not a circus. Shut up.”

Slider was still chortling, eyes taking in the scene. He finally settled down, wiping at his eyes a little. 

“Sorry, doc, I had to come and see if it was true. The infamous Maverick suckered in by a sprog,” Slider grinned, still laughing a little. 

“Did you see Ice?” Mav asked, exasperation clear in his tone. 

“I did,” he said. “He passed the drive off to Goose already. We should have everything extracted by tomorrow morning. And you need to get your ass up to Viper’s office and report.”

“I kind of cant now.” Mav nodded, gesturing the best he could to the kid on his chest. “Thanks to you and your natural ability to scare children.”

Slider laughed again, the insult rolling right off his too-wide shoulders. 

“Go away, Kerner,” Cougar sighed, looking up from a folder. “I need to get this kid into come clean clothes and maybe even a shower. You aren’t helping.”

“Sure thing, doc,” Slider shook his head a little as he looked at Mav once more. “Have fun, Mav.” It was meant as a playful jab, but Mav found himself more defensive than usual.

Sure, they were a group of hardened spies that were tasked with grisly jobs more often than not, but that didn’t mean they had to be heartless. He was allowed to enjoy playing the hero for a while. He was allowed to want to do a good deed.

With Slider gone it took another fifteen minutes of gentle coaxing and blatant bribery to get the kid back off Mav’s lap and into the small shower cubicle on their own. Mav stood outside the door, chattering away so the kid could hear him the whole time. He stared hard at the ceiling as he spoke, desperate to avoid seeing the way Cougar was shaking with laughter in his peripherals. He was starting to become concerned that Cougar would throw a rib out when the door finally opened again. 

Now that they were showered and dressed in better fitting clothes (the smallest scrubs they had, cut down to fit), they looked less scrawny. Their hair hung to the jaw and was cut straight with a flat fringe over their forehead. The freckles on their cheeks now much more obvious.

“Alright, I just need to ask a few questions,” Cougar said from his seat at the desk, his voice a little hoarse from stifling his laughter. “Can you answer a few easy questions for me?”

The kid nodded. 

“Are you a girl or a boy?” Cougar tried. 

There was silence. The kid backed up until they were leaning into Maverick heavily. 

“That’s alright, you’ll find your voice again. How about for now you just nod or shake your head,” Cougar was smiling but Mav could see the tension around his eyes and lips. None of them were prepared to deal with kids. 

The kid nodded. 

“Are you a girl?” Cougar paused.

Another nod.

“OK.” He made a note. “Do you know how old you are?”

Another nod.

“Show me?”

Slowly, hands shaking a little, she raised her hands to show 10 fingers.

“Ten?”

Nod.

“OK. Do you know where your parents are?” 

Automatically, Mav placed his hands on her shoulders and held her tight against him. 

She shook her head before turning and burying her face in his stomach. 

The door of the infirmary slammed open. Mav had her in his arms in an instant. He should probably be concerned how attached he had already become, but he was ready to take a bullet to protect this little girl. 

“Mitchell!” Jester didn’t raise his voice but you could always tell when he was shouting at you. “Get your ass up to the office and report, immediately.”

“Respectfully, sir, I can’t at the moment.” Mav snapped to attention, arms holding his girl to his chest. “As soon as I am able, I will report.”

Jester’s mouth fell open before he snapped it shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then spoke again. 

“Maverick, stop playing around down here and get up to the fucking office,” Jester said. 

“Unless I can take her with me, sir, I cant.” Maverick’s heart thudded once before he settled himself into the detatched place of his brain that he always retreated to when he was doing stupid, risky things.

There was a pregnant pause. Jester opened his mouth. Mav watched him gulping in a lungful of air, about to let loose properly, when Ice stepped into the infirmary as well. 

“I’ll take her, Maverick,” Ice said, voice calm despite the electric feeling of tension in the air. “Give her to me, go report, then you can come back and get her.”

Mav glanced at Jester. The man’s jaw was shut but ticcing with effort as he waited for a response. 

“Will you go to Ice for a while?” Mav asked, mumbling to the girl. 

She stared at him, terror in her eyes again and skin pale beneath the freckles. 

Ice walked over, movement slow and measured. He paused a few feet away and folded his arms behind his back. 

“You know Ice, he helped get you out,” Mav tried, ignoring the other men watching him like hawks. “I’d trust him with you.”

The fear softened a little. 

“I won’t be long. Maybe half an hour. You can stand half an hour with Ice, right?”

She bit her lip a little. Maverick felt like an asshole but forged on. 

“I know he’s a mean looking bastard, but really, he’s a softie. He’ll probably even let you hold his hand if you’re scared.” 

Maverick might have heard the small scoff from Ice and the snort from Jester, except he was completely enraptured by the girl in his arms. Her brown eyes were flooding with tears but she gave a shaky nod. 

“Brave girl,” he whispered to her and gave her a squeeze. “I promise I’ll be as fast as I can, and I’ll come straight back.”

She slithered out of his arms and onto her feet. Mav took her hand, small in his. He was convinced she was still too small for a ten year old. 

He jerked his head at Ice, signalling him to approach. 

“Squat down, asshole, you’re too tall,” Maverick muttered as Ice towered over the girl. 

“Fuck you,” Ice snuck out the corner of his mouth before he obliged. He gave a terse smile and held his hand out to her, palm up. 

Hands shaking again, the girl folded her fingers around his palm and held on. Ice’s smile shifted to genuine and he huffed a little. 

Mav gave her skinny shoulder a squeeze before he stepped around them and headed for the door. 

A small squeak made him turn back as he made it to the door. She was reaching for his with her free hand, face twisted with pain. 

“I’ll be back, honey, just half an hour. Stay with Ice,” Mav said, his own heart breaking a little. 

The last thing he saw was Ice folding himself onto the floor in a tailor seat and the girl clinging to his hand.

The trip up to Viper’s office was torture. Jester was hot on his heels, clearly concerned that Maverick would turn-tail and go back to his girl. He wouldn’t. He knew his duty. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t counting down the minutes until he could. 

Viper’s office was near the top floor, a beautiful view of the city lights in the heavily reinforced windows. Everything was dark wood and green suede leather, luxury and expensive without being ostentatious. The man himself was willowy, with an impressive moustache that was a little more salt than pepper and chill eyes. Eyes that locked onto Mav with radar precision as he entered the room. 

Jester moved to stand to one side, his usual position as the agents reported, were briefed or reprimanded. Maverick almost smiled, he was probably about to get all three in one go. 

“Good of you to fit me into your schedule, Mitchell,” Viper said, voice dry as the desert.

“I apologise, sir.” Maverick pulled his shoulders back. “I had a situation I couldn’t abandon.”

There was a ghost of a smile beneath the moustache for a bare instant. Viper gave a slow nod and folded himself into his desk chair. He gave a languid motion with one hand, inviting Mav to begin. 

With more brevity than usual, Mav recounted his part of the mission. Going in the upper window, dispatching two enemies, finding a small child in a closet with evidence of kidnapping, convincing the child to leave with them while Ice completed the mission. The last 45 minutes of the infirmary. 

Viper listened without expression. None of it surprised him, Ice had already told him most of it.

Maverick fell silent. He itched to get out of there, checking the clock swiftly. He had fifteen minutes before he was a liar. 

The silence dragged. Viper was sitting, a finger stroking his moustache idly. 

The seconds ticked by. Maverick’s itching increased. He fought the urge to squirm. 

“So,” Viper began at last. “Now we have a charge that, by all accounts, is unreasonably attached to you.”

There was another silence. Maverick didn’t bother filling it.

“We will need to contact a foster service, it’s currently Saturday night. I doubt any action will be taken until at least Monday.” Viper fixed his grey eyes onto Maverick’s. “Are you prepared to take responsibility for this child until that time? You won’t be sent on assignment until this matter is resolved.”

He almost laughed. He could tell they were testing him. Maverick was the cockiest, most outspoken agent in the company. He knew he was. He lived for the job like no other. With the exception of Iceman. He knew they expected him to cave at the idea of having no assignments. At the idea of Ice getting ahead of him in their stupid competition of who was the best agent. But he didn’t care. 

The appeal of a silly competition paled next to the appeal of seeing if he could make that little girl smile, laugh or even talk. From the second Slider had scared her back into his arms, Maverick wanted nothing else but to climb that new mountain. 

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

There was a choked off noise of surprise from Jester. Viper’s expression didn’t shift, but Maverick thought, just for a second, he saw a flare of pride in his eyes. It might have been wishful thinking though. 

“Fine,” Viper said, curt, “see to your charge. You’ll be provided a safehouse, we will be in touch with details from the foster home. You are dismissed agent.”

Maverick nodded to them both and strode from the office without a backward glance. He had 4 minutes to get downstairs. 

He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, urging the elevator to move faster, when the doors opened to reveal Goose. Mav smiled, feeling it tight and abnormal on his face. 

“Hey Mav,” Goose said in his easy way. He stepped into the elevator and pressed for the doors to close. “How’s the kid?”

Of course he had already heard. The gossip in this place moved faster than Mach 10. If it was anyone else, Maverick would have lied, but this was Goose. His recruiter. His best friend. A man that had his own wife and kid. If anyone was going to get it, Goose was

“She’s half-starved and completely terrified,” Mav sagged a little. “She won’t even speak. All she seems able to do is squeak.” 

“She’ll be OK,” Goose patted him on the shoulder, rubbing his upper arm a little. “Kids are tough. They bounce back better than we do.”

“You sure?” Mav’s brow peaked and furrowed with fear. “What if I fuck her up more?”

Goose laughed. He dragged Mav into a proper hug, slapping him on the back firmly before releasing him.

“Yeah, that fear never fades. But you’ll do fine,” Goose said, grinning. “Just call me or Carole if you get really stuck.”

A small kernel of anxiety shrivelled and died in Mav’s chest. It was only one less thing to worry about but he was grateful nonetheless. 

“Thank you,” Mav smiled.

The elevator doors opened again. Mav checked his watch. He had 45 seconds. 

He took off at a dead sprint, vaguely aware of Goose calling his name with a laugh. 

He skidded to a stop in the middle of the infirmary, out of breath from his bolt through the hallways. 

The girl was sitting in Ice’s lap, his hand still in hers and his sleeve pulled up to expose his watch. She snapped her eyes to Mav, a powerful frown on her brow.

Maverick laughed between gasping breaths. “I have fifteen seconds left,” he argued with her glare. 

“By my watch you’re fifteen seconds late,” Ice said mildly. His blue eyes were dancing. 

“Your watch is wrong,” Mav complained. 

“Excuses, excuses,” Ice tutted. 

“Shut up, Kazansky.” Mav turned to where Cougar was snickering quietly at his desk. “Is she all good to go, Cougar?”

After a moment to compose himself, Cougar cleared his throat and nodded. “We did a few more tests while you were gone. She needs a decent meal and some fluids but not badly enough that I want to give her the trauma of an IV.” Cougar stood he waved Mav over. 

With a smile at the girl, still ensconced in Ice’s lap, Mav moved to stand at the desk with Cougar. 

“She hasn’t been assaulted, Mav,” Cougar said quietly, his face turned away from the pair on the floor. “She let me ask her a few questions while you were gone. She didn’t speak. But she let me know they didn’t assault her.”

Another seed of anxiety shrivelled and died. Maverick almost fainted from relief. 

“She does have a few bruises that are healing. Some newer than others. But mostly she’s just starved and traumatised,” Cougar sighed. “Just. As if that isn’t awful in and of itself.”

“Thanks, Cougar,” Mav said, voice a little rough. “Its better than I expected.”

“Yeah,” Cougar sighed again and gave a nod. “Alright. That’s all. You can take her now.”

Mav smiled. The anxiety he was nursing flooded higher, battling for dominance over a warm happiness that took him by surprise. He was terrified. This was all too fast. He was delighted. There was something special about this fierce little girl. 

He turned back to her with a smile.

“Alright, kid, doc says we can go.” Mav walked over and bobbed down to speak to her face to face. He realised now he had seen Goose do this with Bradley. His confidence grew just a little. “Are you ready to go?”

She nodded, eyes growing wide again.

“We’re going to a safehouse. You and me,” he said, holding out his hand. 

After a pause, a small wrinkle appeared in between her brows. 

“What’s the worry?” Mav asked, voice gentle. “I’ll be right there with you the whole time. They’re working on finding your parents. You’ll be safe.”

The wrinkle didn’t move. She pulled Ice’s hand to her chest and clung tighter. 

He would be lying if he said that didn’t hurt a little. He had only been 15 seconds late and she already preferred Ice? As if Mav didn’t feel completely out-done by Ice in all other aspects, even his kid preferred Ice. 

“I mean, we can ask Viper if you can go with Ice, but it’s already set up for it to be me,” Mav said, attempting to hide his hurt. 

Her small hand reached out and tangled into Mav’s webbing. She looked at him, then at Ice, then back to him again. The same concerned expression on her face. 

Oh. Maverick grinned his shit-eating grin. She didn’t want to replace him. She wanted to take Ice with them. 

That sparked a fresh cacophany of emotions in Mav. He would love to fuck with Ice, take him out of assignments so their score would remain stagnant, he would love to watch the tall, blond idiot attempt to relate to a child. But he also didn’t particularly want to live in a safehouse with Ice and a ten year old. He didn’t really want Ice to see him out of his agency persona. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to see Ice out of his persona. The idea was a little frightening, but Mav wasn’t quite sure why.

“You want Ice to come too?” Mav clarified with her. 

She nodded, face flattening out of the fear. 

“I’m not sure—“ Ice started but immediately stopped when she turned to gaze up at him. 

Maverick pressed his lips tight together, biting down on his laughter. 

“Well, I think that’s decided. Let’s go, I’m tired.” Mav straightened and stretched. 

There was a heavy sigh but Ice stood, carrying the girl on his hip with ease. She had slung her arm around Ice’s shoulder and gripped the fabric of his turtleneck tight. Maverick allowed himself one smile at the picture they made before he turned and led the way toward the exits.

Getting her into the car in the garage was an exercise in patience. She was still clinging to Ice with fierce determination and despite his repeated attempts to pry her off, the girl would shimmy around like a monkey and find a new hand hold. It probably would have been easier if Maverick had actually helped. Instead Mav stood back and giggled like an idiot the entire time. 

With a ten year old half-choking him from behind and bony ankles digging into his hipbone, Ice gave up. He heaved a sigh and looked over his shoulder at his passenger. She was scowling at him. 

“Alright,” he said, scowling right back, “you win. Come here so we can get in the car.” Ice patted his chest with one hand. 

Her eyes turned suspicious but after a moment she levered herself around his torso. Ice wrapped his arms around her and climbed into the backseat. Maverick swung the door shut behind them without a word. 

With Mav driving, Ice and the kid in the backseat, they pulled out of the garage. Ice checked his watch. It was close to 2am and he was beginning to feel it. His eyes were itchy and tired, his body beginning to protest the various spikes of adrenaline and activity he had forced it through for the day.

“What food do you like, sweetheart?” Maverick asked, eyes flickering to them in the rearview mirror. 

Ice watched as her mouth opened, eyebrows crowding down over her eyes in a frown. Nothing came out. She closed her mouth again and he felt more than heard the small sigh of frustration. 

Without thinking, Ice rubbed slow circles on her back. She pressed her cheek into his chest.

“That’s OK,” Ice mumbled to her. “It’ll come back when you’re ready.” 

When he looked up, Mav was watching with concern through the mirror. Ice gave a subtle shake of his head. 

“How about this, if you want pizza raise Ice’s right hand. If you want burgers, raise Ice’s left hand.” Maverick’s voice was cheery, no sense of frustration at all.

Her small strong hands gripped his right arm and lifted it. Ice couldn’t stop the flare of tenderness it caused in him. He was beginning to understand why Mav was ready to lay his career on the line for this kid. 

“Pizza it is,” Mav said happily. 

The rest of the drive was quiet. Ice watched the city lights slide by the window, one arm still encircling the girl and the other still clutched in her hands. 

It was just for that night. Ice had a life and a job to get back to beyond this. He was only here because it was easier to go along with this kid than fight. He sighed internally at that thought. He was more than proficient at hand to hand combat, he was exceptional at shooting and tactical analysis. He could pick almost any lock, if given enough time he could crack a safe, he could even, with help he’d admit, hack into simple security systems. The one thing he couldn't do, apparently, was say no to this kid.

They had to stop to get the pizza. It was spy-craft 101 to avoid giving a safehouse location to anyone, even a pizza delivery guy. As Mav got out to go and order, the girl set up a fuss. A quick series of squeaking noises sounding and she began to thrash around. There was more than one near-miss of him getting nutted as the kid attempted to keep sight of Mav. She wouldn’t stop until Ice pushed the door open and called Mav back to the car.

With a confused face that quickly jumped to guilt, Mav jogged back to them. As he did, the girl settled down immediately. 

“Sorry,” he smiled at her kindly. “I have to go and order. Stay here with Ice. I’ll come back and wait with you guys, OK?”

She was frowning again but gave a slow nod anyway. Mav reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. It seemed to help her relax back down against Ice once more. In turn, Ice relaxed back into the seat. 

They sat in comfortable silence. Both gazing out the window at the pizza place across the carpark. Mav returned relatively quickly, the line probably wasn’t huge at 2am. He passed a  bottle of water to the kid.

“Drink, kiddo,” he said, a distinctly paternal tone in his voice.

She hesitated. 

“Just three mouthfuls and I’ll be satisfied.”

Ice was surprised at how effortless it seemed to be for Maverick. How did he know how to do this? 

The little girl unscrewed the bottle and took three obvious sips. Mav beamed at her. Ice gave her an encouraging squeeze as well. The affection was contagious. 

They waited in silence. Mav leaning against the car in the opening of the back door. Slowly, eyes darting from Mav and out to the carpark and back, the kid sipped more water. Ice didn’t know shit about kids, but he was going to take that as a good sign. 

This time, Mav turned and let her know he was leaving before he went to collect their food. There was no fight or noises of distress. She simply clung onto Ice a little harder until Maverick returned. And if that made Ice’s heart melt a little more, then that was just between him and whatever power observed the universe. 

The safe house was standard fare. A small house in a quiet suburb. Someone from the agency kept the lawn clipped and the cupboards stocked. Mav pulled into the garage and the three of them waited until the door was closed before they made a move. It wasn’t that they felt pursued or unsafe, it was merely habit.

When they stepped into the house, Ice moved to lower the girl to the floor but she let out a loud squeak. 

“OK,” Ice sighed and pulled her back onto his hip again. “But you can’t stay here forever. I’m going to need the bathroom eventually.”

Her look was somewhere between annoyed and expressionless. Ice shot her a teasing smile. 

“How about this, squeaker, I’ll walk the house with you while Mav gets the food ready. When we’re done, you have some time on on your own. Once you’ve eaten you can use me as a jungle-gym again.” Ice attempted to hold onto his fraying patience. 

There was a long moment, her brown eyes pensive as she considered his offer. After a short sigh she gave a nod. Ice nodded back. 

He carried her through the house. It was small. An open plan kitchen, dining and living area, a bathroom and two bedrooms and a patio out the back. He crossed each bedroom and opened the wardrobes to let her see they were empty of anything but spare clothing and equipment. 

They were back in the kitchen as Maverick was placing plates of pizza on the bench. Ice stopped at one of the stools. 

“We had a deal,” Ice said, eyes firm. “Sit on your own stool and eat.”

He waited, watching her closely. It took a long moment but she gave a nod and released her deathgrip on his shoulders. Ice set her down on the stool. He backed away with measured steps. When she didn’t begin thrashing and squeaking once more, he let his shoulders sink a little. 

Maverick pushed a plate of pizza in front of her. He stood on the opposite side of the bench, munching away at his own piece. Ice, a churning uncomfortable sensation in his stomach, stepped to the end of the bench and snagged his own piece to eat. He didn’t particularly want to play happy family. He wanted to go home to his own bed. 

All it took was another look into those brown eyes and Ice was gone again. Yeah, he didn’t want to be there. But he wasn’t about to be anywhere else if she needed him. 

With food finished the kid stood, hopped precariously from one stool to the other and then onto the bench proper. Ice had his mouth open to scold her for acting like a delinquent when Maverick let out a loud laugh and plucked her up easily. He cradled her into his chest with a practised ease. It was hard to think she wasn’t actually Mav’s daughter with the way he had taken to her so quickly.

“Alright, you,” Mav said, wandering out of the kitchen area. “It’s time to sleep.”

Ice busied himself with packing the left over food into one box and stowing it in the fridge. He could hear Mav mumbling away from the lounge area. When he turned back, the pair of them had disappeared. Ice felt a weird surge of panic before he heard Maverick’s voice again and it settled once more.

They were on the couch. Mav was tucked up between the arm of the lounge and the back, his feet on the floor, his girl was snuggled into his chest, her knees hooked over Mav’s thigh. Ice couldn’t stifle his smile. He was still smiling as Mav’s eyes opened and looked up at him.

“Do me a favour, Ice?” Maverick said, his eyes soft and happy.

“Depends,” Ice smiled back in spite of himself.

“Can you take my boots off? I forgot.” 

Ice rolled his eyes, biting back a nasty refusal. He bent and unlaced Mav’s boots with quick movements. With the laces loose he pulled them off and set them by the couch. As Ice looked up he found Mav looking back once more. Another swoopy sensation of delight hit him. 

“There,” Ice said and cleared his throat. “I’m going to shower and change. And then I’m going to sleep.”

“Sure,” Mav nodded. His green eyes were yet to leave Ice’s. The longer they stayed the warmer Ice was feeling. 

Stiff and awkward, Ice straightened and marched off to the bathroom. 

The one special talent Ice had that he hadn’t worked his ass off to attain was his ability to sleep anywhere. He showered, changed, climbed into one of the beds and dropped off almost immediately. He dreamed, as always, of colours that were too bright and loud. The pressure of a crimson, the weight of a purple, the violence of a yellow, all the colours and actions of his dreams assaulting him as he slept. 

He woke with a low groan of discomfort. His head spinning and the ghost of an ache threatening his forehead. If he laid there and ignored it, it would be a pounding misery by breakfast. Ice heaved himself up and shuffled to the kitchen. 

Maverick was passed out on the couch, his arms hanging limp either side of the kid. She was sprawled on him, face finally slackened out of the perpetual fear. Ice shook his head at them and carried on to search the cabinets for the first-aid kit. 

With two pain pills swallowed down, Ice did a better inventory of their supplies. He made a small list of what needed replacing and what they needed to source all together. With that finished, he made some coffee, collected a cleaning kit from the bedroom, and padded past the sleepers onto the back patio.

Ice spread pieces of his Ruger out onto the rickety outdoor table. Working with methodical precision, he disassembled the gun and began the calming process of cleaning it. 

Somewhere around when he was oiling the barrel, the kid appeared in the frame of the back door. Ice gave her a smile before returning to what he was doing. She approached him, eyes scanning the whole area and his face on repeat. Her eyes flickered over the pieces of pistol as she came to a stop beside his elbow. 

Ice paused to look at her once more. She tugged at his elbow before climbing beneath it and into his lap. Ice chuckled, powerless to stop her. 

“Did you sleep OK?” He asked, returning to his task once she was settled. 

She gave him a nod. 

“Good.”

They sat in companionable silence. Ice could feel her watching his hands. Her own reaching up onto the table before retreating again. On the third appearance of her hands Ice set the frame of the pistol down. He wiped his hands off and set the box of bullets out of her reach. 

“Alright,” he said, voice quiet. “First we need to make sure our magazine is empty.” 

With more patience than anyone had ever bothered to give him, Ice went through all the pieces of his gun. He named them, explained what they did and where they went. He let her touch them, feel their weight and showed her where they would connect back into the other pieces. 

He loved his Ruger. It often felt like a puzzle-box he had become an expert at. Slider thought he was crazy; the mess of pieces it became when he had to clean it, the fact that at times Ice needed to hit it with a hammer to reassemble it, the fact that if you missed one small step the gun would be irreparable. But that was why they were best friends, Slider liked his guns big and simple. Ice preferred something more subtle. 

When he was finished labelling and explaining, he walked her through the assembly. Mumbling the steps and instructions as he worked. With the whole thing back together, he looked down at her. 

She was staring up at him with a rapt expression. He smiled, and gave her a quick hug. The bubbling relief at seeing something other than fear and sadness in her eyes was a heady thing. 

“You want to try?” Ice asked. 

He was given the most enthusiastic nod he had seen yet. 

“Alright, then I’ll teach you how to take it apart too.”

And he did.