#mostly because this is set at a vague point in the distant future

[annikathewitch]

You know that feeling when a short story you read in English Class gives you an idea for your own sci-fi story...

so obviously you have to write it...

so obviously you have to make a conlang for the aliens (I mean, how else are you gonna give them names?)...

so obviously you then have to make a font for their writing system and mess around with coding to get the software to do the conversion between pronunciation and romanization and your writing system correctly...

so obviously by this point you may as well translate what you've written of the sci-fi story thus far into the language...

so obviously you make a syntax tree for it...

... yeah. Same here.

[destinywillowleaf]

we're calling it an "afterparty" because it's a party after we saved the world

(Sonic X Shadow Generations)

In which Blaze knows things no one else does, Sonic remembers what his friends tell him, and Shadow pays attention to people trying to kill him.

Light spoilers for Shadow Generations? Nothing plot-heavy, just a boss and related dialogue. Mostly under the cut to not clog up too much on mobile. these thoughts would not leave me alone so here they are

EDIT: now as a more fleshed-out fic on AO3!

(Parenthesis) are internal thoughts, [Brackets] are actions/descriptions.

~~~~~

Sonic: Hey, Blaze?

Blaze: [She turns to face him.] Hm?

Sonic: You said you were in that Crisis City place before.

Blaze: I did. (Where is he going with this?)

Sonic: Call me crazy, but it seemed like you really knew the city. But I don't remember running through anything like it in the Sol Dimension, and none of the other locales in White Space were from adventures you guys had without me. What's up with that?

Blaze: (Ah.) It's... something I've been wondering myself for a while now.

Sonic: Huh?

[Her eyes grow distant, looking beyond the trees as she retreads memories.]

Blaze: You're right. Crisis City was not in my world. From my best understanding, it was a future of your world. I wound up there not too long after our adventure together, and was forced to learn the environment quickly at risk of being incinerated by the flames of disaster. Alongside... a friend, we kept it at bay as best we could.

Silver: A friend?

Blaze: (You.) After one such defeat, we were approached by a... hedgehog who claimed to know how to stop it once and for all. According to him, a lone individual was responsible for the awakening of the flames. (If I had questioned him more before, perhaps we wouldn't be in this mess of forgotten memories now.) You, Sonic.

Sonic: Me?!

Blaze: That turned out not to be the case, but nevertheless we still set out from our time into the past - your present. We were in the Kingdom of Soleanna, around the Festival of the Sun, I believe. I know... my friend encountered you a few times, but I met you then as well. We eventually returned to the future to seal away the flames once and for all. I fully intended to sacrifice myself but when it was all done... I awoke back in my own dimension.

Sonic: Eh... it's kinda ringing some bells.

Blaze: Really?

Sonic: If you told me any of this yesterday, no, but I feel like running through those streets brought something back. I definitely passed by the kingdom at one point, but I don't think I remember meeting you there. [He scratches his head.] At the same time, I kinda remember meeting someone there...

Blaze: I see.

Sonic: Side note, any reason why're you being so vague about your friend? I feel like their name's on the tip of my tongue but I just can't place 'em.

Blaze: (Because saying anything now means admitting that I've known exactly who was in Silver's dreams and never told him.)

Shadow: If I may be so bold.

Blaze: Yes...?

Shadow: Everything surrounding this... Crisis City seems to have been forgotten. Lost in time, as it were.

Blaze: I suppose that's one way to describe it. I just wish I knew why I seem to be the only one to recall anything that happened.

Shadow: Regardless, you said it was a hedgehog who approached you and your friend about the one responsible for the flames.

Blaze: He appeared to be one, at the very least. (Come to think of it...) He actually looked quite a bit like you, and still spoke to us despite lacking a mouth.

[Shadow's eyes go wide.]

Shadow: Was his name Mephiles?

[Blaze freezes in place.]

Blaze: ...how do you know that name?

[Shadow looks away and clenches his hand.]

Shadow: He confronted me earlier, raving about restoring himself to the timeline. I had no idea who he was, yet he claimed to know me. [He turns, meeting her eyes briefly.] You are the only one to remember...

Blaze: ...because that timeline no longer exists. (Something happened to destroy it. Returning to my dimension must have protected me from having my memories affected. It's a miracle Sonic remembers anything now at all.) How did he manage to find you, then?

[Shadow shrugs and turns away, leaving Blaze to her thoughts.]

Silver: Hm....

Blaze: Is there something on your mind?

Silver: You and your friend were fighting some big fiery creature in the future together, right? [Blaze nods.] It kinda sounds like Ifrit, but that was me and Espio.

Blaze: (...I've kept it from him long enough.) It was Iblis.

Silver: Ibl—

[A look of recognition flashes in his eyes. Everything clicks into place.]

Silver: All this time... it was you? They–They weren't dreams or future visions at all?

Blaze: I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. (Not that I've had many opportunities to do so to begin with.)

Silver: I've never really felt like I belonged in my own future, even before I tried to change it the first time. [Silver lets out a tired chuckle.] I guess I know why now. And–And why I was there instead of anywhere else, and why it still felt familiar even though I didn't know where I was. Except, I guess, I did know where I was. Kinda.

[The party air is distant despite being so close, and the gap between them feels like a chasm.]

Silver: What was it like?

Blaze: The old future?

Silver: Mhm. What kinda stuff did we do besides fighting fires?

Blaze: Well...

~~~~~

if you're reading this part you're cool B) but seriously i think it would be fun for Shadow to be the only other person who actually knows Mephiles. Silver has shreds of memory at best, Sonic never learned the guy's name, and no one else even has a shot at remembering. even after generations Sonic doesn't remember most of what happened and Blaze can't help since she wasn't around for most of it. idk if anyone ever finds out that Sonic died during all that nonsense.

(also something about Shadow, the one guy notorious for having a shit memory thanks to Amnesia, being the one to know/remember stuff from a timeline that doesn't exist is just. inherently funny to me)

[rosieofcorona]

In the Blue Morning

BELOVEDS, a soft little Solavellan fic for you. Mostly fluff this time around to soothe the eternal, unyielding hurt. Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

She cajoles him, some mornings, away from his office, from his maps and his books and his paintings and out among the newly-planted gardens, all their tight, unfurling blooms. 

It’s always empty at this hour, when most of Skyhold is still asleep save for the guards in their high towers, the recruits in the practice yard. The only sound is the clang of their swords ringing through the mist like distant bells, the only light the pink and gold of the nascent sun.

They have been careful, desperately careful not to draw undue attention, not to generate rumors that could harm the Inquisition in the future. It is easier on the road to find a quiet moment alone– to steal a kiss or hold a hand or put words to their love– but the castle, however safe, is full of eyes, forever watching.

It is only in the narrow, muted hours before dawn that Solas weaves his fingers with hers as they orbit the courtyard, side by side.

He names the blossoms as they pass, first in the trade tongue and then in Elvish, the softened syllables like music on his tongue. She repeats them half as gracefully, but he smiles at every attempt, correcting her gently now and again, praising her efforts.

“Gail’lealis,” he says, pointing out an elegant bellflower, its blue-white petals bundled tightly in green sepals.

It sounds off, even to her ear, when she says, “Ga’lealis,” back.

They pause for a moment, and Solas turns and bends and plucks an early bloom from the same plant, rotating it slowly between his fingers, holding it up for examination. 

“Ga-il,” he repeats softly, separating the sounds. “Meaning ‘bell,’ in the common parlance.” 

“Ga-il,” she says again, correctly this time. 

“Followed by lealis, meaning ‘glass.’”

“Gail’lealis.”

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tucking the flower behind her ear, the meaning vague yet all-encompassing. It is all beautiful– the morning, the garden, how she catches the light, his ancient language in her mouth, her mouth– 

Solas kisses her in the empty courtyard, parts her lips with a linguist’s tongue, and she kisses him back again and again as if each time might be the last. He wants to stay like this forever, wants the sun to forget to rise, wants the castle to sleep and sleep in an endless dream.

But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see. 

And this will cost them, in the end. 

She is pink as the sky when they finally come apart, and continue their long walk around. 

“I hear you were out here yesterday,” she says, breaking the silence as they turn a corner. “Cullen says you beat him soundly at chess.” 

“It was a closer game than he thinks,” Solas says, but she has learned when he’s just being modest.

“Must not have been that close, because Bull says the same. As do Blackwall, and Varric, and Dorian, though he swears that you cheated.”  “I did no such thing!” 

When they turn again, the chessboard in question comes into full view, set and waiting on its table beneath an awning. 

“He seemed very certain,” she shrugs. “Though I suppose I could find out for myself.”

They stop again before the table, and Solas looks at her intently.  “Is that a challenge, dear Inquisitor?”

“That depends on your level of skill.”

She’s teasing him now, enticing him, a dynamic he’s come to enjoy. There are so few who impress him with thoughtfulness, who make him work at being clever.

“Very well, but you should know that I am merciless,” he warns, a contradiction to the chivalry of pulling out her chair. “Even to one I love.”

He takes the seat opposite her, the board and the pieces adorned in glittering dew. 

“I believe the Lady Inquisitor moves first.”

**********

He sets a dozen little traps for her, a dozen clever gambits, and she evades them every time, to his astonishment. Where he moves to attack, she counters; where he baits her, she defends or retreats. By the end, with the sun fully risen overhead, they reach a deadlock, both depleted, neither victorious.

“Again?” She asks cheerfully, when they’ve finished. Already she is freeing her captives from his end of the table. “Don’t look so stunned, my love. Unless you’re trying to offend me.”

“Forgive me, vhenan,” he says, shaking his head. “You surprise me as always. It is rare to find an opponent so…discerning.” 

His beloved laughs with the morning breeze, a sound like air that surrounds and envelops him. 

“Rare to find one you can’t beat, you mean.” 

She’s right, of course– it is rare that he loses, even rarer that he plays against someone so evenly matched. He still can’t quite puzzle through it, where he went wrong, where she figured him out. 

He had gotten a lead on her early on, or so he thought– he had taken a tower, a mage, and two pawns– and left his queen open for the taking, which she had entirely ignored. She caught onto him quickly, though too late to win, and when she realized she couldn’t beat him, she had blocked him instead. 

Solas leans thoughtfully back in his chair, replaying their game in his mind. No matter how he tries to beat her, he finds no way through. She sees his scheming, sees him coming, cuts him off. 

“Why did you not take my queen, given the chance?”

“Because you gave me the chance,” she reasons. “You wouldn’t do that except to win.” 

“It could have been a tactical error.”  “It wasn’t,” she says assuredly, resetting the pieces along their battle lines. “If I had taken her, it would have left my king undefended from your mages.”  “You could have moved him.”  “For a turn or two. Then your knight would have circled back. Isn’t that right?” She looks up at Solas, her eyes smiling and sharp, affirmed in her answer already. “Or shall we call that a ‘tactical error?’”

“Mm,” Solas nods his approval. “You’ve become quite the strategist. Have you been spending time with our Commander?”

“I’ve been spending time with you,” she counters. “Learning all your little tricks.”

Not all, it occurs to him, but Solas smothers the thought with a laugh. “It seems to me you have a few of your own.” 

“Our Keeper used to call me harellan,” she tells him. “Trickster. Though I needn’t explain that to you.”

He fights to keep the easy expression on his face, feeling suddenly caught in the snare of her gaze, as if she sees directly through him, sees him fully, all he is.

Harellan, his mind echoes. How could she know?

The wait for her judgment feels infinite, inevitable– but it does not come, and does not come, and does not come. She only moves a white pawn toward the board’s center, the leaves rustling softly around them. 

No, he decides. She does not know. She only means he knows the word. 

Solas mirrors her opening move, their pawns face to face on the battlefield. “And still, your Keeper named you her First.” 

“I was more troublesome as a child,” she says, with a grin that implies that the mischief has never left her. “I’ve settled down a great deal since. Can’t you tell?”

This time, when Solas laughs, there is nothing else hiding beneath it. No uneasy feeling, no great fear that she will discover him, cast him out. There is only happiness for a moment, the war reduced to a board between them, as if sorrow and death are nowhere, and the end of the world is far away.

[meoproject]

I said I'd do one of Val, and I did. You can once again tell that I worked on different pictures on different days because the line quality is sorta inconsistent... oh well.

This is a bit shorter than Beriith's section because she hasn't lived quite as long as he has, and doesn't need worldbuilding loredrops to explain stuff. Still! She has lived experience and her story isn't "coming of age" story, she is very much an adult. Unlike with Beriith (where I had to be sorta vague about exact ages) I can be a bit more precise with Val.

(as a reminder, in this setting elves [and most other long-lived humanoid species] mature from child to adult like humans do, but their aging slows down somewhere at late 20s/early 30s, so as she is currently in her early 30s, she is comparable to a 30-year-old human in mental, physical and legal maturity. I know some settings have elves mature slower, but this is not one of those settings.)

More info under cut, sorry it’s long once again

CHILD

Valeria is the eldest of three children; she has a (middle child) and a sister (the youngest child). As a child, she is cheery and sweet-natured. Her parents' wealth means she never goes without anything. She is not exactly spoiled, but she's definitely used to a certain... standard, even as a child. She gets along with her siblings well, and likes being a big sister, which is good, because her parents are aloof and distant, and lot of Val's "parenting" is done by different nannies and teachers.

When she's very young, she witnesses her father argue with her Aunt (his sister, that is.) and as her aunt storms out, she takes a brief moment to talk to Valeria, telling her that she probably won't come around anymore (not that she often did anyway) and she should never let anyone tell her what to make of her life. She gifts Valeria her hair ribbon, a gift Val will keep with her all the time from that moment on. She writes Val letters for a few years, but they eventually fall out of regular touch.

TEENS

As a teen, Val is. Hm. It's complicated. She's not really a wild, rebellious teen, but it's during her teen years when she gets several realizations about her family and about what she wants to do. While as a small child she didn't really have enough knowledge of the world to realize how distant and, frankly, emotionally neglectful, even abusive, her parents are, as a teenager she starts to realize this. Her parents are shitty and distant, and not at all like the parents of many of her friends and peers. She doesn't directly rebel or anything, but she starts paying attention, and definitely gains some context about her aunt as a result.

Her ideas for her future continue to crystallize. Inspired by her estranged aunt and the meeting she had with her in her childhood, she decides to pursue an academic career to differentiate herself from her family. She knows that technically she could probably use her family name for leverage, but wants to prove herself, and as such, she spends a lot of time studying to get ready to apply to her chosen university, to become a mage. It takes her several attempts to get in - Serenzia University of Thaumaturgy is fairly prestigious, and there is a lot of competition over spots. As mentioned, Val could probably leverage her family and their connections to have an easier time to get in, but she absolutely wants to get in by her own merits. 

EARLY TWENTIES

 Once she gets accepted to the university, she kinda... lets loose? "Early twenties" is Val's "Party Phase."  While as a child and teenager she mostly lived in social circles connected to her parents, at the university she was finally free to make friends who had no connections to her family, and student party life took her for several years when she was in her early twenties. Casual relationships, alcohol, mild recreational drugs, parties and get-togethers, the whole thing. She wasn't like super wild and didn't go too overboard... but she definitely was known for partying, to the point of her having to take an extra year to finish her studies, as she kinda ended up dropping out of several required courses due to lack of focus and had to retake them. Oops.

Her relationship with her parents continues to be bad. They're kind of whatever about Val's whole university career, and while they're not too happy about her partying ways, they're kind of whatever about that as well, as long as she isn't... too embarrassing about it. For example, they strictly forbid her from having serious relationships, for reasons which will become apparent later, but for now she's fine with it because serious long-term relationships aren't in her interests anyway. Her relationship with her siblings deteriorates somewhat, not because of her partying, but more like... they developed into different directions and all deal with the side effects of neglectful parenting in their own ways, and don't quite have the maturity to deal with it yet.

Eventually, she starts taking her studies actually seriously, and proves herself to be skilled and hard-working, with some degree of natural talent to magic.

LATE TWENTIES

By her late twenties, Val has started her long graduate program to become an Archmage of Thermomancy. She has left her partying ways almost behind by that point as well. First, and most important, she more or less grew out of the whole thing. It was her testing her wings and getting carried away by sudden freedom, and it was not something that would be a long-term lifestyle; after her first few years she kinda fell off the party wagon gradually, and by the time she starts her graduate program, she's less into wild parties and more into "wine and theater" or "chill restaurant night" kinda get-togethers. Second, she has, um, she has an experience at the start of her program. When she gets accepted into the program, someone starts a rumor she is sleeping with several professors in exchange for her spot in the program. The rumors get serious enough that even the professors in question hear about it, and the university has to start an official investigation on it. Val (and the professors) is eventually officially cleared, it... changes things. Val is a lot less interested in hanging out with random people, and while she doesn't like... lose her faith in humanity or anything, she becomes more guarded and careful. She loses her serious-ish partner (they weren't long term yet, but Val kinda thought it could happen, despite what her parents want) who never really comes around to the idea that the rumor was a complete lie. Several of her casual friendships go the same way when the whole thing is going down. And several professors think Val herself is behind the rumor and become colder towards her as a result.

Whoever started the rumor is never identified or punished for their actions.

Over the years, the whole thing kinda... fades from memory, but occasionally someone still asks if "anyone remembers that chick from a few years ago who fucked a professor for better grades or something."

In any case, by her late twenties, Val is more serious about her studies and has her university career mapped out.

CURRENT

Val, in her very early 30s, is mostly done with her graduate program, basically just looking for a final project and thesis subject. Life is. It's good enough? She occasionally teaches starter courses at the university -- she doesn't really need the money (rich family :( ) but it's something she enjoys anyway, and it keeps her in the university circles while she tries to figure her thesis out. Her goal is to finish it in a year, whatever is the subject, and then she'll start working in a research team, and maybe even become a proper professor one day...

But then, one day, her parents drop a bomb on her. They've found a husband for her, from nobility no less, and she is expected to get married within six months, so your university career is kinda over, maybe your husband is ok with it, but whatever, you prioritize getting along with your future husband now, none of that thesis stuff. So, Val thinks, fuck that. She's not going to get married. She's going to ditch the whole goddamn city, and find her aunt, who for sure she has resources to help her, or at least to help her get started. Transfer to another university. Anything but getting married to some dude she doesn't even know.

But she can't escape alone. In the years past, mages used to summon Hellhounds to act as bodyguards whenever they traveled solo, and while the practice has largely fallen out of use, it's still done occasionally, and instructions to the summoning ritual are easily available.

Except, something goes weirdly wrong...

[ranger-kellyn]

tears of the kingdom has made me desperate to revisit my age of calamity fic, if nothing else so i can start working on a aoc timeline telling of totk and AHHH

idea musing below the read more, but endgame/major spoilers for totk

i've been vaguely wondering how i would work in the totk story line into the age of calamity timeline, and honestly??? i think it's going to be fairly easy. at least...leading up to it lol remembering to work in all the characters who are now still alive will be the main challenge lol

i hear a lot of youtubers saying that "zelda was a dragon for 10,000 years" but i'm pretty sure that that it was actually way longer than that. 10k years ago was the last time calamity ganon broke out, when the sheikah created the divine beasts and guardians. the founding of hyrule, when zelda turned, was an "unknown" years prior to that.

at least, that's how i'm working with it. when i am working/thinking about anything regarding breath of the wild, age of calamity, and tears of the kingdom, i am not at all considering any of the other games. to me, this is it's own contained thing within and around these three games. (mostly bc i never played any of the other games so i wouldn't be able to draw from them easily/fluidly) ((and yes i figure things that were similar to other games happened, but not those exactly))

all that to say, in my head, this is the timeline i'm working with: ganondorf, the original One True Evil™, was sealed away in the hopes that one day in the distant future, link will rise to kill him for good. (a good chance i'm wrong on some of the "canon" of what i'm about to say, but i haven't fully explored totk and won't for a while but w/e i'm Workshopping) hyrule castle was constructed atop ganondorf and rauru mostly as a way to safeguard that chamber until link could get there to take care of things. i still haven't worked out why the sky islands exist now, because rauru even makes the comment if you talk to him atop the first area with a view of the temple of time, "though in my day, this was all on the ground".

but on my initial descent into the depths of the castle to get back down to the sealing chamber, that whole area of downward stairs that seemed to just go on forever and ever, that i just...fell through rather than walked and dealt with all the monsters-- i kept that in mind thinking about how long it must have taken link and zelda to get down there. i remember in the initial trailer for the game, they had a huge ass ox and cart, so even though they got rid of that, it all still sets the tone that it took them...a while. to get down there.

i thought about it on my second playthrough that i started last night, and really looking around at the stairs and cave walls, and i just...i really got to thinking a little harder than i needed to about it.

i thought about what it would take to actually seal something like that away. it gets a pass because it's a Magic World, but realistically, good god the work that would take. our world 10,000+ years ago was nothing like it is now. we were still what? mostly hunter-gatherers. google says "pre-pottery neolithic B". so like, the world is constantly changing. the tectonic plates are always in motion. volcanoes erupt and make a whole new top layer of soil and earth. tsunamis regularly wash things completely away. earthquakes...fires...drought.........

like. hyrule has at least one active volcano, glaciers, is near the ocean--

if i played with even a few of our real world...whatever...to hyrule-- that sealing chamber probably would have caved in at some point, or at the very least, the stairwell leading down to it, along with the murals, and all the other tunnels and whatnot, would have to be rebuilt...pretty often, all things considered.

it's something i'm trying not to stress about while writing, but it will. bug me. lol i'll get over it

ANYWAYS

back on track.

thinking through the botw -> totk timeline:

i am going with the idea that like...Calamity Ganon??? didn't. exactly. Actually. exist. like, sure, ganon did plenty of damage and razed the land, but like...it was only...a manifestation of ganondorf. a way of pressing against rauru's aging seal.

the "first" time calamity ganon rose, meeting the sheikah army, the hero and princess-- getting defeated by them? that was all a part of the plan. and by that point...the general population??? completely forgot about what was actually sealed below the castle. that's well into the "nobody is to ever go down there not even the royal family--NOBODY". too steeped in tradition/fear/whatever-- ganondorf has been "forgotten" about. their focus is calamity ganon. which, at the very least, they all know will return again.

the sheikah get "too powerful" (probably reminiscent of the zonai's god-like powers--who at this point are probably nothing more than legend). the banishment happens, they seal away all their tech to appease the hylians, things...go quiet.

then, the events leading up to botw happen. calamity ganon rises again, and i honestly...think it was in the plan to lose. extra 100 years or not. 100 years is a drop in the bucket in the face of thousands. calamity ganon didn't need to win. calamity ganon needed to get the castle to fall into disrepair as a part of the final act.

zelda mentions something about if you talk to her on the way down; since the calamity, the castle fell into disrepair. then the gloom started leaking out from the depths.

ganondorf needed the ground to be shaken up enough to where the castle part of the seal would be broken enough for more of his powers to really be able to seep out into the world.

the giant pig monster of calamity ganon-- still part of the plan. tear up the ground. rip up as many of the devices that were set to contain calamity ganon as possible. (it's at least what i'm generally going with to explain what happened to all the sheikah tech)

SO.

with that in mind, i figure the "totk" events for the age of calamity timeline...happen very similarly. only a few years after the initial CG event. the castle was shaken up enough. the castle seal was broken. the gloom will start leaking.

but now thinking more in age of calamity terms. botw!zelda and aoc!zelda are....in my mind, different zeldas. very much the same in every way, but i think it's more of a "nature vs nurture" situation. their natures are the same, but i think they had different nurtures. botw!zelda was not a fighter. she was not the "take up a weapon" sort. she had different shit going on. aoc!zelda is a fighter. she's the one who figured out how to weaponize the sheikah slate. she's the one who refused to stand by while link and impa did all the heavy lifting in the breach of demise. she had just enough differences in her life that she could at least take that up while still unable to awaken her sealing powers. BUT STILL. at the end of the day, they're both ARE fighters, just in different ways. i'm honestly struggling to figure out if aoc!zelda would have the mental fortitude to take on draconification. i figure the whole 100 years imprisoned with ganon thing really is what helped botw/totk!zelda be able to do that.

so while i work through that, at the very least, on my drive home from work today, while sitting in traffic, i just...I saw the opening of my fic for the age of calamity sequel. all because i thought something along the lines of, "you know...that was an odd question for zelda to ask her father? 'what is below the castle'? why would she question there was even something down there in the first place? why would she ever wonder if anything other than like...a crypt or something was down there?? it seems like a very...pointed...question...a question that gets asked if you saw something you maybe shouldn't have..."

in my age of calamity fic, the endgame pairing for zelda is zelda/impa, so. obviously. impa will be going with them down into the depths as part of the first change. (really want to get back into drawing so i can try to explain the "future" design for impa more-- bc i'm loving what i'm seeing in my head. same hair length but braided, at least one new piercing, some more ink-- girl looks Good)

and knowing that, i've been trying to figure out "is impa staying the present with link and everyone else?? or am i sending her ass to the ancient past, too?? if i do?? how do i??? what do i??? do with her????"

as much as i would love some antics with "yOURE CLEARLY NOT MY WIFE" from impa with all the Shmelda's running around in the present...i don't think that's the route i will go. (i could prove myself wrong later who knows i haven't finished the first fic lmao)

BUT SO. i had an idea to completely change up how i have impa and zelda originally met. instead of them not meeting until their late teens, i had this idea of them being small children, right around the time of the death of zelda's mother. impa and purah are the children to the king and queen's advisors, and zelda had been good friends with them all her childhood. (for my work, impa is a year older than zelda, and purah is about four years older than impa) after the queen's death, little zelda had been inconsolable-- absolutely shut down, not taking, not emoting-- nothing. purah and impa are both desperate to make their friend smile again, so purah decides, "hey!! why don't we sneak you down to the secret tunnels! there's all kinds of cool stuff to look at down there!" and what she MEANS is the like. staff tunnels and whatnot that are all around the castle for staff to move about unseen. the secret escape tunnels-- things like that.

impa...was less keen on the idea, knowing damn well they're sneaking where they shouldn't be-- and teleporting around with the princess??? it's one thing to endanger your sister. it's another to endanger the crowned princess--

purah presses her, and when it's the first time zelda has shown any interest in anything since her mother's passing-- impa caves.

so down they go. impa's powers have always been strong, but they're definitely less graceful at that age. they "poof" around the tunnels, going down to the docks, around the tunnels, sneak somewhere where they can probably find the three of them treats. zelda has fun for the first time in...a long time. so impa doesn't really stop. they keep going, and going, and going...and going...

and eventually.

the three of them realize they're...in a part of the castle they've never seen. they're too young to be able to put into words how it's different, but it's a combination of just how stale the air is. the architecture. the color of the stone in and around everything-- in front of them is a huge slab of text. it's ancient hylian-- something only zelda can read a few words of. but she knows the words she needs to know from it.

she grabs both their hands. "it says stay out," she says with a gulp.

purah squeezes her hand, not bothered. "that just means there's something really cool behind it! c'mon, impa!"

impa hums, putting her hand on the cold slab. "i don't know...that's...really thick...I can't poof unless I have a perfectly clear path...at least, not yet."

purah, curiosity getting the better of her, needles her. childish taunts of her being a big scaredy cat, big cucco, bawcking at her until she's red in the face and is just like "FINE!!" and then smacks her forehead "but i'm stealing your energy to do it!!" in a manner similar to what she would need to do to sap energy for symbol clones.

she then is able to get them on the other side and it's....even more different. they're at that huge stairwell. the air isn't stale it's old. purah is too busy complaining about how much it hurt to have her energy sapped that it's a few seconds before she realizes that impa and zelda are both...terrified.

the endless stairwell shaft that looks like it goes down to the center of the earth-- this is where impa's fear of heights starts.

absolute silence between the three of them as they stand near the edge, zelda having a death grip on the railing.

it's so quiet, the only thing they hear is one another's shallow breathing...their own pulses-- they don't have to even see a trace of ganondorf, the sounds of their own pulses echoing in their ears is more than enough to terrify them.

zelda, tears in her eyes, "we're gonna get in trouble--"

holding back her own, impa grabs both their hands again and gets them the hell out of there, wearing herself completely out by the time they make it back to somewhere they're allowed to be.

impa almost collapses, so they all sit together against the wall of wherever, not saying a word until she's caught her breath.

weakly, impa finally says, "we can never talk about this ever again."

zelda nods.

purah doesn't even tease her a little about it.

and so they never do talk about it...but they all never entirely stop thinking about it. zelda asks one day "what is below the castle" and gets that cryptic answer from her father. she doesn't even dare try to tell impa and purah what he said.

probably around that point as well, i'm going to have the king dismiss his advisors, their presence reminding him too much of the queen. they head back to kakariko or something idk. but zelda won't reconnect with them for a long time, right up to the point where they originally did for my fic (so about 5 years before calamity ganon awakens in the game)

my fic goes how it goes, and then there's relative peace afterwards, like in botw/totk.

the kingdom is rebuilding, a bright future looks to be ahead of them--

then the gloom. the gloom that they quickly realize is coming from the depths of the castle. depths that has zelda concerned. she meets with purah and impa first. [i'll probably have terrako rebuilt by this point too] "do...either of you remember when we were children, and we went too far down in the castle? When we found that...horrible stairwell?"

impa wraps her arms around herself, visibly tensing. "i try not to remember."

purah grimaces. "i unfortunately remember..."

zelda opens her mouth to speak, but the words aren't quite there yet. eventually, "this has to be coming from there..."

and from there, they agree to meet with the others, the king is strongly against her going down there, but is eased by the fact she'll at least have impa, link, and terrako with her.

from there. i think i'm going to send impa back to the past with her. i think i'm going to use a little author liberty, and--

in the past, after zelda has committed herself to draconifciation, mineru pulls impa aside. "impa...there is something i must tell you," she says between coughing fits. "There is another secret stone. one even my brother didn't know about." (she's the older sibling--girl's got secrets i'm sure of it)

so impa learns of a stone, hidden away, deep on an island, off the southeast coast of hyrule. on a map, she will recognize it as Eventide Island. in person, it's...a completely different island. much larger, and even more dangerous, fraught with all kinds of trials for her, unlocked thanks to mineru--

she gets her own secret stone, and from there...i have two routes, and i'm not sold on either, 100% yet. the title "sage of shadows" keeps jumping out at me, but idk entirely what to do with that. i could either have her go immortal dragon as well, or...i could have her be the one who teaches the people who will become the sheikah that stasis power they ended up using to seal themselves away in the shrines to later test link for the calamity. thanks to her own prowess, and enhanced by the secret stone, maybe she'll be in a different kind of stasis. hidden away in a shrine of her own making, deep within the depths, waiting...waiting...waiting...

but shadow dragon DOES sound pretty cool.......(I like the idea of her dragon mirroring zelda's perfectly, just in the depths rather than the sky)

idk. that was. A LOT. of word vomiting. all to just be like "this is how much my brain crammed into the span of maybe 5 minutes during my commute)

no clue which way i will end up going. i kind of need to. uh. write the first fic to bEGIN WITH....but still. it's nice to like. be writing again, even if it is just word salad.

[endcant]

aimless musings on subgenre, citypop, and internet subcultures

theres something very interesting about watching citypop become very mainstream in korea and watching that feed back into both western listeners’ opinions and also into the sometimes-cynical efforts of a variety of kpop producers

a lot of people in the youtube/kpop sphere talk about the growth of citypop as if it were a spontaneous wave that appeared out of nowhere with mariya takeuchi��s plastic love getting picked up by the youtube algorithm in like 2018 or whatever, but thats a very like online-ignorant view of the interaction between vintage japanese music and worldwide online EDM production. citypop has been used in future funk and vaporwave for almost a decade by now, and, as a result, a number of citypop songs took off on social media here and there before plastic love’s acceleration— dress down by kaworu akimoto is one of the big examples off the top of my head, but there’s likely many many more.

“Plastic Love” by Mariya Takeuchi (1984). if you haven’t heard this yet, you’d better listen to it now. The video that first went viral was uploaded in 2017

“Selfish High Heels” by Yung Bae, Macross 82-99, and Harrison (2014) is a popular Future Funk remixes of Dress Down by Kaoru Akimoto (1986)

people who haven’t been very aesthetically literate online over the years— musically or visually, since those things are tied in subcultures— treat things like they come from nowhere. there are ongoing subcultural conversations that lead to certain aesthetic choices, and when someone tries to cash in on a trend without understanding what the trend is, that leads people to call bullshit. calling bullshit is not meanspirited, in my opinion, because it very much is like somebody who can’t speak a language getting up in front of everybody and saying “hey, i’m fluent!” and then speaking some vaguely that-language-sounding nonsense. of course people who genuinely speak that language will be outraged instinctively. it feels like being mocked.

that’s why the difference between music producers picking up on a trend cynically and music producers picking up on a trend with earnest interest in that trend’s origins feels different, even if the producers are similarly distant from the original subculture that produced that trend.

“Lady” by Yubin (2018) committed hard to the 80s JP citypop aesthetic, musically and visually, down to the sets, all fairly early in the major resurgence.

i’m sure that anyone with a passing familiarity with citypop and kpop can ascertain that not all kpop producers know what citypop is and what makes it citypop. all they know is that it is on-trend and they have to make it. not all kpop listeners know what citypop is and what makes it citypop. all they know is their idol said citypop as a buzzword in their little prepared statement. all this results in some interesting moments for me as a Music Fan, Online.

here is where i get to the thing that spurred this post: loona “did a citypop” for their japanese comeback. it doesnt sound like citypop.

“Hula Hoop (Citypop Version)” by Loona (2021). It has very odd percussion rhythms and mixing for citypop, no real attempt at a citypop verse, and strangely sparse gestures towards citypop in the form of a few seconds of bass and some synthesized orchestral embellishments that were taken from the original mix …all in spite of a very disco-inspired melody that should have worked perfectly for citypop

this is not a very big deal, and im not mad about it or anything. when a kpop act i like gets saddled with an unfortunate B-Side track i dont tend to take it very hard. however, it did raise a little bit of musical discourse in the loona fandom— in the form of remixes.

“hula hoop if it was actually a citypop song” by loonahatetwinks and Olivia Soul on youtube. this one has an original instrumental that is spot-on for contemporary k-citypop

My most favorite one of these remixes is a futurefunk remix by ZSunder, one of the very best LOONA fan producers. The fact that ZSunder thought to make a future funk remix at all speaks more to an understanding of the mutually supportive relationship between citypop and EDM genres than most kpop citypop producers or fanmixers seem to care to know about.

“Hula Hoop (Future Funk Mix)” by ZSunder is futurefunk made and mixed with such love that it has the infectious summery energy of a polished, big-name future funk hit

in the comments of this video, some people seemed to get the citypop-future funk connection and some didnt. many did get it, don’t get me wrong! but also, its not all that surprising for some kpop-focused listeners to not know much about EDM subcultures and the reasons behind various trends among producers, since kpop as an institution tends to take influences from any genre and culture it likes and then decontextualize those influences by just having their names used as buzzwords in the blurbs the idols have to recite when variety show hosts ask them about their latest single. this isn’t a criticism of the genre or the fans really, it’s just a part of the kpop industry that is used to add shine to an endless firehose-like stream of polished pop tracks. there are some issues with using whole genres and subcultures with complex histories as buzzwords, but god help us if we ever want a pop industry to give its influences their dues.

anyway, the intention behind ZSunder’s future funk Hula Hoop remix happened to remind me me of why i love Yukika’s discography so much, especially the Soul Lady album. I’ve seen some reviews online baffled by parts of Soul Lady, because the album in general is an exploration of that relationship between citypop and modern/internet EDM. i’ve seen plenty of Soul Lady reviews especially baffled by pit-a-pet, saying something along the lines of “what’s with the modern-sounding dance track in the middle of a retro album?”, but i think that pit-a-pet is a futurefunk-inspired track, at least in the chorus. considering both that and the Chill Lo-Fi Interludes, it seems like estimate’s team put together Soul Lady for Yukika in a way that shows that they love citypop and understand the online-specific electronic music subcultures that led to citypop’s resurgence.

“pit-a-pet” by Yukika (2020). the stacatto, bass heavy chorus is futurefunk enough, but the soaring orchestral part in the final chorus seals the deal for my interpretation.

“All Flights Are Delayed (1 hour version)” by Yukika (2020). Estimate literally released an hour-long youtube mix of one of the Lo-Fi interludes on Soul Lady as part of their promotion, clearly inspired by “Lo-Fi anime beats to chill out to,” which is another example of online producers from around the world using Japanese samples as a focal point of their music

Estimate, in the end, is still a Kpop production company, just the same as BBC, so they have no inherent claim over citypop, but the way that their exploration of subgenres clearly comes from passion and interest on the part of their production staff makes it so that their work with Yukika rings true. on the other hand, i really appreciate Ryan S. Jhun’s work on LOONA’s JP comeback, as well as on Not Friends, but the citypop mix thing was so clearly an afterthought to the point where fans of Loona who like citypop seem mostly just irritated by the cynical-seeming attempt.

heres one last good modern kpop citypop MV that has nods to the internet culture that led to its revival in the form of the videography— vaporwave, future funk, lofi, and other internet genres along those lines tend to have videos consisting of looping anime and vhs clips. future funk in particular is known for this, especially since a lot of future funk music, esp early future funk, is just loops of very short, catchy segments of citypop and disco songs. it’s all about the loops

“My Type” by Yoon JongShin ft. Miyu Takeuchi (2019). This song is so dedicated to the retro JP citypop sound that it’s almost beyond my personal taste. The singer, Miyu, was a headlining act at a seoul citypop festival and sang this song as part of her act (:

this video of “Only One” by Conscious Thoughts (2015) has a looped clip as an example for comparison with My Type. it also has a pulsing sidechain compressor working in time with its drum beat in a way that is common for future funk and that i think is a good example for my pit-a-pet yukika comparison to future funk

i guess the takeaway here is that media is more and more online, and the creation and propagation of digital audio and video content has been in the hands of literally almost anybody who wants to do it for the past two decades thanks to garage band and fruityloops and audacity and tiktok and youtube and bandcamp and soundcloud and myspace and newgrounds and p2p file sharing and so on and so forth. and therefore like… as with all things, the consumer class more and more is also the creator class, and therefore every member of an audio-visual subculture will have the ability to discern what is and isnt made with knowledge of the audio-visual language of that subculture

[xenoblademisadventures]

Also here's a dump of other sketches with my thoughts process. Long post, so everything’s under the cut.

The Mythra:

I really liked my first idea so I stuck with it. My thought process was I wanted to emphasize that she's mecha anime and therefore out of place (she already has a mech). Pants are a reference to Alvis's illegal shoes. She’s wearing a crop top because Mythra reads as the type of person who would enjoy wearing a crop top to me. She has giant gauntlet things on her arms because they look cool. I gave her two giant braids because anime (and I’ve noticed a trend of tsundere characters often having two strands of hair going outwards for some reason? And I figured “might as well copy+pasta lol). Her left eye is partially covered by hair, which is supposed to represent her feeling distant or partially isolated from the rest of the world. It’s also a character design trend sometimes used in villain characters, which I thought would fit Mythra since she’s worried about her power being used for evil in 2 and is being constantly compared to Malos in Torna. I kept the choker from the base design because it looks cool and also relates to how she’s constantly constraining herself.

I also wanted to make her buff because she’s a warrior who wields a giant fucking sword, she should be buff (like, the fight scenes involving her in Torna DLC looked a bit awkward because Mythra was swinging a giant sword around one-handed like it was nothing while also having very shrimpy arms). 

Overall, I wanted Mythra to feel very alien and distant to the rest of the world. If I were to continue iterating on this, I’d probably look at some of Elma’s armor (mim and alien) for reference because doing that would allow for Mythra to look disconnected from the Xenoblade 2 cast but still feel like a Xenoblade character.

Side note: I assumed that the Aegis shape Core Crystal was a requirement. If I had the option to remove it, I probably would. It doesn’t look bad, but if the goal was to connect the Aegises with the Monado, I don’t like that Alvis’s key had to be retconned for that to function.

The Pyras:

A consistent theme here between the designs was the pants. I wanted Alvis's illegal pants to be a running theme among the Aegises because they are stupid and illegal and I like them. They also look like the most vaguely scifi part of his actual outfit, so I figured giving them a shared article of clothing would be a nice way to visually connect the five character designs (Pyra, Mythra, Pneuma, Alvis, and Malos), and I wanted to keep the vaguely mecha theme going. You can see in Pyra 6 that I was tired and just drew Pyra in Alvis's attire. 

I wanted Pyra to look like a mecha design covered up by something that more closely fits the aesthetic used in Xenoblade 1. So not quite mecha, not quite 1. The idea was that Pyra was trying to look more like a common person in order to appear less threatening. If she despises and fears her power, I don’t think she’d want to wear an outfit that embraces it. Putting her in more casual clothing would also contrast with Mythra and better communicate that Mythra is significantly stronger than Pyra. But all that said, putting her in full casual clothing might undercut the emotion Rex and Pyra’s first meeting was meant to invoke (of being like “oh wow, a legendary ancient weapon). And designing her to still look mecha would still be saying that “even though Pyra doesn’t want to be the Aegis, she is still the Aegis and cannot escape her power.” Which is why quite a few designs lean into the mecha aesthetic. The exact balance between mecha and casual clothing was the main thing I struggled with on this design. The final design is the one that more or less struck the balance I was hoping for.

A few of the designs are vaguely sexualized. Specifically Pyras 1, 4, and 7 all have tiny boob windows. If I were to finalize 7, I’d remove the boob window because it looks a bit awkward and I think a belt (similar to Elma’s underboob belt) would look better, but my thought process there was “do I want Pyra to be comfortable?” I don’t want to go over the top with the revealing clothing, but making Pyra wear slightly revealing clothing that she probably wouldn’t want to be wearing could help drive the point that she’s a combination of all the traits Mythra was criticized for lacking. It’s not pleasant or comfortable letting others dictate your entire existence through repeated harassment and Pyra already very heavily acts like the sexist ideas of what a woman should be, so giving her a tiny boob window could help emphasize that point. The main reason I’m saying I’d change it if I iterated on 7 is because I don’t think it compliments the design particularly well.

Another thing that stuck between each version of Pyra’s design was that her left eye is completely covered by hair. I did this for a few reasons: it would follow up on the symbolism of Mythra’s design partially covering her left eye, it would give Pyra a slight air of mystery, and it would faintly reference Alvis’s design (I want the designs to hint at each other but I don’t want it to be super obvious). The earrings were also kept between designs because they were in Mythra’s design and I wanted that to get carried over because it’s a little bit extra cohesion between the two designs. 

I wanted was to use Pyra's hair to help represented Mythra binding herself. Mythra has two braids that are loosely flowing, so she's already semi bound. If I were to start drawing Pneuma, I think I'd want her hair to not be tied at all (maybe a similar style to KOS-MOS and Elly as a reference, maybe not?) or I'd just put her in really long dreadlocks or something because hair go brr. One idea I had was to just have one big braided ponytail, but another idea was to try and tie the hair up (which is what I was going for in Pyra 2). I couldn't find a way to do that in a way I particularly liked, so single big ponytail is the way I went.

You can probably see that there were a lot of ideas thrown at a wall here, so I’ll go over some noteworthy facets of each designs.

Pyra 1 had a key on her chest, it was meant to be reference to Alvis. It didn’t stay in other designs because the reference felt too obvious. The first two designs also had a giant X on her chest, it was meant to look like the outfit was binding her, but I don’t particularly care for it. Pyra 2′s pants had weird patterns on them because I was trying to visually make them look a bit distinguished from Mythra’s while still keeping the same idea, but I don’t really care for them. I also don’t like how Pyra 2 is just wearing a T Shirt. I’m not really sure what I was going for with Pyra 3. She kind of looks like Glimmer in the She-Ra reboot, which wasn’t intentional. Pyra 4 leans more into the mecha than any other Pyra. She kind of looks like a ballerina but not really. I was focusing mostly on making her look a lot like Mythra, but I feel that this design has a lot of similar issues to what I have with Pyra’s actual design where it’s sexy and looks cool, but doesn’t really fit the character. Pyra 5 looks like a heroforge character (or maybe like something that fit Mass Effect’s aesthetic if I’m being generous?). I feel that this one also doesn’t fit her character particularly well. Pyra 6 was a bit of an overcorrection and I ended up just drawing Pyra in Alvis’s outfit. And Pyra 7 is the one I actually went with.

Rexes:

Rex 1 was more of a warm-up than anything. I put him in a vest and some pants. The hookshot and x marking were things I completely forgot about until last minute, which is why they look tacked on. He has a belt with some items in it. I wanted to give him scraffly hair and freckles to better emphasize that he’s just some kid. I don’t really like this design. I feel like if I polished it up, it would still have a lot of the benefits to base Rex while not getting as many people complaining about his pants, but the design is overall a huge “meh.”

With Rex 2, I decided to actually look up what scuba gear looks like. This design ended up emphasizing primarily that Rex has a lot of expertise in salvaging and that he’s a kid with humble origins. His strap on was based on a scuba outfit, same with the shoes. He’s also wearing pull-ups with giant pockets. I felt those imply humble origins because pull-ups get associated with rural settings. The giant pockets imply that he works with machinery. That’s also why his hair’s tied back. If you long hair and you work with machinery, that’s supposed to be tied back so that it doesn’t get caught in anything. I also gave him glasses because we need more characters with glasses. 

The character’s meant to be 15 and I feel that this looks closer to 15 than 12. If I were to make future iterations of this design, I’d try to lean more into making him look 15 because he doesn’t look 15 enough to me. I’d do this by giving him acne.

He has gloves because he’ll be using a sword and it’s generally not good to scrape up your palm while using one of those. His hook-shot also now takes up his entire arm because that’s heavy equipment. I haven’t figured out how the wire is supposed to be stored without having it fuck up his arm. But the hook itself is now in a little hook cubby. I think I’d want to make the bottom of the shoes look heavier than they are since they don’t currently look great for walking around the bottom of the ocean. 

Still, I’m very happy with this Rex. I mostly draw anime girls, so I’m happy with the number of things I feel I’ve gotten right with Rex 2.

Nims and a Dahlia:

I’m a bit unsure of what I want from the Blade designs. I decided to design around their element, their rough personalities, them needing a core crystal, and their element. I also want them to look like they could also exist in the same universe and maybe not look very human? That was, at least, my thought process when drawing Nim, though that thought process was not consistently held, like, at all. A lot of my Blade redesigns don’t look very good because I didn’t have a very good idea towards what I should even be aiming for. The Blades have very generic personalities and overall feel so disconnected from the world that I’d probably just scrap every existing Blade in their entirety and replace them different characters who are better established. Like, maybe because this Blade was born from the Gormott Titan, they look like Gormotti or part giraff as a result and are more likely to have the earth element? And how many hands they’ve been through and the personalities of their previous drivers stack up to subtly influence their appearance? Like, a Blade from Gormott that ended up in Uraya for 10 lifetimes might be an earth-type cat-person with fins or something? Or maybe the more developed a Blade is, the less it resembles a human? But doing that would require writing a lot more lore per individual Blade than is actually provided. But just having something to better frame the Blades as something other than “random (mostly) anime girls that you pick up along the way” would be necessary to give them good designs.

Anyways, with Nim, I figured giving her a Saytr like appearance would be good. She has a strong association with animals and nature, which, for me, translates to “naked.” Alongside that, I looked up Nymphs and they’re also usually depicted as naked women. I also completely disregarded to the two foxes on her shoulders. They were put into Nim 1 as an afterthought. 

Nim 1 is the only Nim that isn’t plus-sized because I figured “why not have some different body types among the blades?” A lot of my redesigns for Pyra and Mythra try to keep their body type more or less in tact less because I think it’s the best body type for them and more to spite the idea that them having big boobs is the reason that they’re oversexualized. Like, they are comically big, but they’re only sexualized because of how much attention the camera and design draws to them. But, that’s a side tangent. I made Nim overweight because I like drawing overweight women. Nim 1 gets the vibes of “naked lady” while Nim 2 has the vibes of “big fluffy friend” while Nim 3 is somewhat of a compromise. If I were to make a final design for her out of these, I’d definitely try and fuse some aspects of Nims 2 and 3.

Nim 3 has vines on her arms because Nymphs get depicted with vines quite a bit. The main reason Nim 2 is wearing a sun dress is because I stepped back and thought “wait, maybe some people would have an issue with a naked anime lady running around.” Nim 2 also has a transition between furry legs and no fur legs. 

I didn’t really have any ideas for Dahlia. I saw someone draw a version of Dahlia based off Elsa from Frozen and I thought that might be fun to draw. I don’t really have any further thoughts on this.

Praxises:

This is sort of where I was at the point where I realized that if I wanted to redesign the blades, I’d need to figure out some unifying theme for them all. I was thinking “maybe blades could try and visually represent different aspects of being human?” This idea was only really used on Praxis and wasn’t very strongly represented. I was kind of tired when I drew Praxis 1 and Praxis 2 was a bit of a warm-up sketch. 

Neither of these designs are particularly good. I wanted Praxis to be wearing those 90s bubbly arm and leg warmers because she has a bubbly personality and is a water type. I don’t know why Praxis 2 is a cowgirl. 

Zenobias:

Zenobia 1 is based a bit a wrestler because she has wrestler vibes. I see her as the type of person who would do Dark Souls no armor run on the dance pad. My other thought process was “let me google the word ‘zenobia’ and see what crops up” and I saw something about a Syrian empress but I decided to do zero research, so I have no idea if what I drew was offensive towards muslims. She has a scarf tho because wind.

Zenobia 2 is based on a picture of that empress lady. I don’t think it follows her character in-game particularly well though. 

Two (Blade) Nias:

Neither Nia is particularly finished. The main requirements were that this Nia has to look like a Blade, a catgirl, and like something were she’d be able to hide the Blade parts, but not comfortably. I’m at a bit of a loss here. I think the formal wear used in her base-game design is not the way to go. The outfit just doesn’t feel like it matches her brash and snarky personality, like, at all. The first outfit was trying to throw random ideas but nothing was coming up and that’s what happened with the other. Though, Nia 2 gets bonus points for looking like a cats 2019 character. I was sketching out what parts of her body should be covered, but I don’t think I’d want to go with crop-top and skirt because Mythra already has a crop top. The tail is also debatable since I figured if I kept that, how Nia hides the tail could be a fun part of her driver outfit. I also didn’t really like how Driver Nia and Blade Nia have different hair and ear lengths. It bothered me more here than with the original Pyra/Mythra designs because Nia isn’t the Aegis, I don’t think she should be allowed to material and dematerialize her clothing, hair, and ears like that. I do kind of like the idea of giving her paws since those are things that can be easily hidden by shoes. Giving her spotted skin isn’t a bad idea but it’s not as high on the “keep” scale as the paws are (which aren’t super high in the first place).

Overall, it’s probably a bit anticlimactic to end on some lame designs, but that’s how it goes, I guess. If I were to redesign more of the Blades (or finish the Blade redesigns I started), I’d need to figure out what running themes I want from the Blade designs. I think maybe focusing on the human designs first and working from there could be a way to go. Unsure. 

[ranmanjuu]

hi! can you do a gen z mc who got injured at the protests and have them elaborate on what the protests were about to the oda forces? i got tear gassed at a protest so your writing is actually helping me feel better!

tw : injuries from police br*tality, heavy r*cism

first of all i hope you’re okay!! i’m so sorry for taking so long i hope you’re still here reading this ehhh,,. i personally don’t know much of ‘getting injured in protests’ other than rubber bullets and tear gassing—and for anyone out there protesting (also considering recent things that have happened in my country,,,), please be safe out there!

ᅠᅠ

—nobunaga:

the first encounter you had, he didn’t really notice it. he had a lot of things on his plate, mostly about his assassination attempt, you know, the usual. 

it’s only when he invites you to his tenshu to know more about his most interesting chatelaine. after all, the moment his life was out of danger, the immediate groan out of you raised a brow.

in your defense, going back from a protest then just sent back 500 years in the past did put you in a pissy mood. the injustice was enough bullshit, you didn’t want to deal with this right after.

and,,, your response was probably too snarky for a man in power like him. but that’s what compelled him to bring you to the castle. maybe it was spite, or just dangerous curiosity. no one’s spoken to him in such,,, rude manners before.

being all past the whole, chasing-you-down-just-for-you-to-come-to-my-sickass-castle, the dragged-500-years-into-the-warring-states-period, constant-wars-everywhere, and everything in between, you’ve managed to,, calm down decently, at least. you’re just really confused as to why he called you in. 

through your slippery tounge, you accidentally let it slip that you’re from the future; great job! mission one from sasuke already failed. but—you’ve dug your grave, now you have to lie in it.

upon listening to the rest of your explanation, naturally, nobunaga starts asking questions.

after a series of them, mostly about general stuff like technology, etc., he hits you with a curveball. “what is that?” he asks, observing the small patch of reddened skin.

you’ve been shot by a rubber bullet prior to the time traveling. you wager that they were aiming for the neck—a highly fatal area to hit, even with a rubber bullet, mind you—but you were lucky enough to only be hit near the collar bone. still—to say it’s inexcusable is an understatement.

“huh—?” you follow his eyes, then trail your fingers on the edge as you show more of your injury, “. . .got injured a while back. asshole cops think they can just. . .fuckin’. . .”

your sentence turns too faint for him to hear clearly, he only knows that you feel anger from your tone. all he does is gaze passively as the steam comes out of your, slowly.

“what happened exactly?”

and with that one question, he’s in for quite the story. you start off in the beginning; what triggered it all. the injustice brought by those who are said to protect the people, the same ones that shed blood because they knew they could get away with it. then, the protests done by the ones who wanted justice, equality, something that should just be the norm at this point.

and then, the horrible attacks the cops’ve done to hose who protested,,, the mere thought gets your blood boiling, really. no one poised any kind of harm, it was a peaceful protest—and yet they still hurted, perhaps even killed. and they get away with it.

“. . .and i sure as hell ain’t gonna die to some bullshit system. i’ll keep on going at it until people can stop dying so. . .needlessly like that.”

he pauses after hearing you. his eyes have a vague sense of scrutinize, but certainly not at you. "and you still continue to go, even if it results in injuries for you?”

you look back at him, determination burning like a passion, “as long as less people will die of discrimination; as long as our cause is heard in the end—i’ll sacrifice anything for it. for equality.”

the silence rings for minutes.

but the hand on your shoulder quickly strays your mind back to him. to your surprise, a daring smile, almost a smirk, pulled his lips, “you are braver than many men that i’ve met. fiery and passionate also. i do believe you’ll be quite the addition here.”

and while you raise an eyebrow to that, your heart settles as he ends it with one final thing, “you’ve earned my utmost respect.”

ᅠᅠ

—hideyoshi:

he would have been highly alerted in your presence—had it not been the fact that your eye was bruised and injured. it was fresh, the patch of skin having not turn purple or black yet, but it was enough to signal that it could be a fatal wound.

medics were sent your way by his command, and given the opportunity, he checked in on you frequently. the culprit of the attempted assassination was yet to be found—so he just assumed that you were a poor civilian caught in the crossfire.

you were rather crude to him, but he brushed it all off. you must’ve been some sort of stressed out after just saving his lord, so he gave you space and went to do other things.

it’s when they reconvene under nobunaga’s order did he find out about the decision for your fate.

“my lord, are you sure we should bring them back to azuchi? perhaps they have a place in a town around here.”

“—not really.” hideyoshi’s eyes filled with surprise and concern as a small response came out of you, with eyes looking away from everyone in the tent with lips bitten anxiously and brows stitched together.

so it ended on you going to azuchi along with them. because really, even if you didn’t want to, what were you to do? you had no place in the sengoku, and you’ve forgotten all about your scouts lessons back in middle school to survive in the forest.

and while you insist on working rather than just be royalty basically, hideyoshi is the one who persuades you to at least rest first. with a sigh, you agree.

from then on, you find him visiting you quite often between his breaks. most of the time, asking how you’ve been, making light conversations over tea, and sometimes fussing over the smallest things. it’s a gradual change you’ll get used to—from the failed assassination to the weird, home-y feeling he brings.

it didn’t take long for his curiosity to push him. one day, with the usual cup of tea, the silence passes for quite the moment until he spoke up, “if i may ask, where exactly,,, did you get that?���

he doesn’t quite point to it, but you know what he’s talking about. half your vision is covered now, from ieyasu’s work on trying to make it better. you stare in the cup, swishing the tea around, “. . .my town had, uhhh, ‘problems’.”

he listened intently as you reworded the current real life events. just change the cops to guard, the bullets to blunt sticks(?), etc. the core of it you kept the same, the discrimination, the unruly deaths and wounds of the innocent.

all the while, hideyoshi looks at you with slightly parted lips and eyes that spell a bit of disbelief. such compassion don’t exist in a lot of people—much less a majority of civillians from a town. he thought he’d’ve heard about it, but you did say it was quite the small one, far away.

as you finish your long explanation, your face was scrunched up in a scowl, remembering the scene at the time. the cops came, a highly dangerous situation; but you weren’t leaving just like that. not until you got hit by a bullet did you go back home—and look where you are now.

“—.” hideyoshi calls out your name, snapping you to reality. you dart your attention to him, his face filled with concern, worry—but also slight anger and a distant sense of fondness.

“. . .when nobunaga unites the country, we’ll be sure to aid you. we’ll stop them from hurting anyone else. so until then, please stay with us.”

the sentiment brought warmth to your heart, but you knew the truth. he wouldn’t be able to, the wormhole was a big separation in that. even so, you shook your head, “i don’t,,, uhh, think i can stay for that long.”

his brows stitch together in confusion, “and why is that?”

“. . .i want to go back as soon as i can. and—i only have one chance to do such a thing, and never again.” upon your answer, his eyes widened a bit. no further questions were asked about that, as your own expression said you didn’t want to talk about it.

“but—you could be in danger if you go back.”

“i don’t care.” the tea is cold as you set it down, “. . .i don’t wanna,,, just escape and turn a blind eye to it, i think. it may be safer for me here, but—i still want to help back there. whether or not i’m injured is,,, a means to an end, for me.”

that’s when every suspicion he could’ve had about you dissolved. the determination and righteousness that burned so brightly in your voice was irreplaceable. along with that, was a very deep respect for you. he serves nobunaga because he believed in equality among everyone, and it seems so do you. even if you’re willing to sacrifice yourself—to see a better world where everyone is happy.

a beat passes. two. with a sigh, hideyoshi’s hardened gaze relents back into the strange warmness, hid hand reaching out to ruffle your hair. “well, i don’t think i agree with you diving into potential danger, but just so you know. if you ever need help, you can always reach to us, alright?”

you breath out a chuckle, “. . .of course.”

ᅠᅠ

—mitsuhide:

your whole entire body was sore even before the wormhole sent you back. not to mention, just after that, you had to carry a full-armored man out of a burning building with someone trying to kill said man.

so to say you were disoriented was quite an understatement.

you didn’t even feel it until days have passed. and at this point, you’ve gone under mitsuhide’s tutoring. being sat down for a long time made it painfully obvious that your body was still healing—but you’ve sang this song a million times before. in which the soreness lingered for a while, and then it’d disappear. you can bear with it.

that is, until he started training you in battle.

the tanegashima practice was fine, if a bit triggering by the gunshots. but you saw it the same as archery. however, sparring on the other hand,,,

yeah. the first break you took, you already felt every single part of you reeling. mitsuhide wasn’t ruthless with you, but you figure he wasn’t being soft either.

in truth, prior to arriving in the sengoku period, your body had taken a hit in a protest. you didn’t get caught in the tear-gassing crossfire, or got shot by a rubber bullet. rather, a police car had arrived at the scene and begun to drive forward into the crowd. it didn’t become a car crash site, no deaths occurred to your knowledge (thankfully).

but you were one of the ones in the front row seats, you fell to the ground and took some damage in a number of places. they were more of inconveniences than anything.

still—forcing your body to fight a trained swordsman was not a good idea.

and the fox has an eye for these things, sensing when his enemies are weak. at least it proves to be a disadvantage if you really are dangerous. his eyes linger on you as you rub your sore spots with the occasional groan. 

“the little mouse seems to be wounded.” he says. it’s clear he’s trying to extract some kind of information about the person who just popped out one day, “pray tell, what might be the cause of such?”

“i got, uhhh,” you can’t say car, those don’t exist yet— “knocked down by a horse.” admittedly, a horse is probably more dangerous than a car—but you deal with what you have.

“is that so.” with the smile and narrowed eyes of his, you knew that he didn’t buy it. but to your defense, your state clearly proves it in some way—so he deduced that you weren’t telling the complete truth.

and he welcomes it. it’d be his absolute pleasure to unravel the mystery.

eventually, he does. in promise to keep your secret away from others, you keep his. 

“so, little mouse,” the night has yet to pass, but you wish it did. your stuff was spilled in front of you, all evidence of you coming from the future, “was that cover-up story about the horse a lie?”

it’s a rhetorical question; he knew the answer already. still, you roll your eyes, “of course, we rarely use those in the future. a police car hit a crowd, and i was caught in it.”

promptly realizing he doesn’t know anything, a lengthy explanation ensued.

“oh my. and you said this, ‘car’ drove into a crowd? that’s highly dangerous, is it not?”

“it is!” your calm words slowly dissolve, your hands now waving in gestures, “and guess what, it’s the cops that do it! uhh—guards in old terms, i guess. y’know the people who’re said to supposedly protect us? yeah, hit us with a car.”

mitsuhide isn’t the most curious about the future. but he is a bit confused about the context.

and so you continue, explaining everything. from the start, to where you were, along with what your thoughts are on the whole situation

through all that, he stays silent, not commenting until you were thoroughly finished. you can’t read his expression—so you stare at him, waiting for even a word.

suddenly, he smiles, “well, looks like our little mouse is quite the something, aren’t you?” before you could respond with anything, he pats you on the head with a strange sense of softness, “pureness and ideals like you are rare in this world.”

in truth, he agrees. he’s someone who’s faced discrimination head on from being in the lower class—and he fights for a world that his lord would like to see. even if he’ll remain in the dark, for his stained, dark hands would only corrupt the purity. at least, so he thinks.

you look back with pursed lips and a slight frown, “then i’ll help make it more common. if it results in people being treated as people, i’ll do it.”

you don’t hear it, but he draws in a sharp breath. his eyes are muddled—with what, you don’t know—but you drop the thought as he lifts the hand off of your head with a chuckle, “i will say, i didn’t quite expect this.” 

they say eyes are the window of the soul. while he had his closed most of the time—you managed to peek in a small bit of warmth and fondness in them.

ᅠᅠ

—masamune:

you came to the sengoku period with a sprained ankle. which, in a time where war was rampant, probably wasn’t a good thing to have. especially when you’re being dragged into battle just for the fun of it.

although you admit you made yourself seem tougher than you were (with you being used to injuries like this before, so you’ve grown used to gritting your teeth), you still curse masamune to hell and back. no, you do not care if you’re on a horse or just in camp, your foot hurt like shit either way.

naturally, you wouldn’t take that for long.

thus the next time he planned to take you along (you could already see the glint in his eye), you snapped at him. well—much less ‘snap’ and more of ‘telling him off rather harshly ft. a sprinkle of swearing’.

“listen, assfart, my ankle’s been killing me, and if i’m going by that analogy, you’re practically desecrating it’s corpse and grave. so for the love of god, stop dragging me into battles!”

an expression of surprise went on his face for a moment, before it morphed to his usual grin, “is that so? seems like out kitten likes to run around and ended up hurting themselves.”

“not my fault they shot me in the fuckin’ ankle. . .” you mutter without a second thought under your breath, which he, unfortunately, heard.

“they shot you, lass?”

seeing his ever so slightly widened eye, you pursed your lips, “yeah. nothing too serious.”

even so, you see the way his eyes narrow with a glint—more so of excitement than anything else, “still though lassie, with you being under nobunaga, i doubt they’ll get away with hurtin’ ya.”

“what does that mean?”

fingers comb through your hair in a wild pat, accompanied with a fanged grin, “they won’t be alive for hurtin’ the lord’s precious lucky charm.”

your lips pursed as a frown pulls upon your brows, “i don’t want them to get away solely for me being nobunaga’s ‘lucky charm’.”

“and why is that, kitten?”

his eyes slightly lit up at your hardened and serious aura as you closed your eyes with a sigh. “the same people who hurt me are the same ones who’ve hurt many others, on the basis that they believe they’re above them; over a stupid thing like race. and i won’t be just letting it slide, even if i can’t fight or anything.”

the flame in your eyes are ones that masamune has grown to recognize; the anger and bitterness as you look back on a memory, only to fill up your heart with passion.

“i’ll die if it means that they’ll be punished and everyone is treated the same.”

silence rings past, the wind slowly becomes a solid aura in the air. stunned, he leaves a small chuckle and pats your head,

“the lord made a wonderful decision to bring ya here, lass.”

—ieyasu:

going by his usual self, he didn’t care much when you arrived, other than you were someone nobunaga picked up from his failed assassination. however, him being an expert in things health related, some things didn’t go by with him.

first of all, your eyes were a slight fade of red. at first he figured it was a leftover from honno-ji’s smokes, but as the days tick by, its persistence is now rather worrying. they should’ve faded away by now, so he thought.

and it became more and more painfully obvious, at least to him. the way you rubbed your eyes sometimes, them tearing up at random intervals—and even you squinting at rare occasions that, unless you had an eye problem like mitsunari, shouldn’t be there.

a seed of worry was planted, although he never expressed it. after all, you were being dragged into battle, where dust and more smoke can easily go into your already bugged eyes.

therefore one day, wordlessly, he took you to his workplace. at first, you were confused; ieyasu hasn’t exactly talked to you a lot.

he picks up a small bottle, along with a cup-like lid, “use this, and wash your eyes with it. and by that i mean just tilt it up and blink when it goes into your eyes.”

you just blinked a few times, stunned more than anything. “,,,, why?”

“you think i don’t notice?” he scoffs, “you’ve been rubbing your eyes like crazy, and it’s past the point where your eyes should even be red since the honno-ji incident. either your eyes have been having problems way before, or you’re just dumber and clumsier than i thought.”

“hey! it’s not my fault, for any of the incidents!”

“so there are multiple instances?”

the judgemental look sent your way was something that your stubborn mind won’t back out from, even if it mean having to somewhat explain your situation.

“w, well, there have been several uhm.... arson crimes in my town, i can’t help but be in the vicinity.”

if arson crimes translated to tear gassings, yes, there were many.

“arson crimes? your town is,,, jeez.”

“it’s not the citizens’ fault, look to the fuckin’ guards of our village for that.” the tone had immediately shifted from a kind of flustered banter, to immediate bitter undertones.

immediately, the silence rang on. ieyasu sat there, looking into you as much as he could, with his bare bones knowledge of you. the pieces were there, and it wasn’t hard to put them together. for a moment, he wondered if you were more than the unfortunate one to be pulled into this mess. but if your town was as much a mess as that. . . perhaps it was for the better.

“. . .then you’re planning to stay here, right?” he had his own opinions and thoughts of someone taking advantage of a high-powered lord taking them in, but eh, he thinks, people will do what they have to do to survive—

“not really. assuming nobunaga would even let me go in the first place.”

ieyasu stood there, stunned, “. . .you’re planning to go back to your own town? even from all the danger there?”

“yeah.” you look at him with a slight imbalanced expression, “i don’t have anywhere else to go, other than there, so. . .”

“but why not stay here? it’s safer, you do know that right?”

“of course,” you sigh, “but it’s still my home, all things considered. yeah, there’s a whole lot of corrupt things going on but, they’re still humans, the people i live with. i don’t wanna run away from it, i’d just. . .i’d like to try and help them also.:

ieyasu stays silent as you lean back to the wall, looking out the door with a fond and melancholic gaze, “the,,, guards in my town are doing this just cause of their stupid beliefs and whatever. superiority complex and whatnot. and people are dying because of it, only for things that they can’t control and. . . it’s just so bullshit.”

you turn back to him, with a strong light blaring in your eyes; filled with hope and determination, “wouldn’t you want to go back and help them? even if i get injured, as long as people will be treated the same and won’t face death for something miniscule, i consider it worth it.”

you’ve never seen him surprised at you; at least not in this sense. usually it’d be surprise at some mistake you did, making an offhand crude comment to it but here. . .here it’s partnered with the smallest bit of sparkle. like a hidden respect for you behind his uncaring persona.

you only look as he slowly stands up, his shadow befalling on you. with the same, yet subtle, amount of shine in his eyes as in yours, he sighs softly and takes your hand,

“at least if you’re gonna go into that kind of battlefield, let me teach your ditzy self how to take care of injuries first.”

—mitsunari:

your sudden arrival already aroused questions, as you’d appeared before nobunaga sporting a bloodied cut on your cheek. at the time, they took the assumption that the assassin did it to you.

and although it was fussed for a bit, it was quickly covered up with some cloth fitting for the period. and then, everything went as normal.

taking up job as mitsunari’s personal caretaker wasn’t one you’d reject, because really, how bad could it be? but the man himself kept insisting that you don’t, added that not only were you a special charm of nobunaga’s, you were also injured from the night of honno-ji. he couldn’t do that to you; not after such a stressful night.

and yet you were stubborn as well. with the final decision being up to nobunaga, which you accepted wholeheartedly, of course, you now had the role to take care of mitsunari.

although his. . .clumsy nature was one that you should be worried for, you find it that he often checks up on you, apologizing each time he could’ve potentially hurt you. and each time, you waved it off and assured him that yes, you were fine.

but you can see it in his eyes, the tint of guilt and worry that lingers on before he succumbs to his reading trance. truth is, the injury is just a mild inconvinience of pain, so there really wasn’t much to fuss over.

in his eyes, your degree has gotten much higher than before. whether your wound would’ve affected your job didn’t matter to him; it was the fact that you were hurt in the first place. you shouldn’t have to take care of him when you needed to take care of yourself! or so is what he thinks to himself.

and so he tries to make it up to you. you need reading lessons? he’ll try to squeeze it in his schedule! or maybe it’s time for a break, he’ll tour you around in the bustling city of azuchi. it feels like whenever you need something, he’s always there next to you, and you can’t help but feel charmed by it.

mitsunari isn’t one to notice details about a person if it isn’t in a situation like in battle. but he’s gotten very sharp at seeing the slight reactions and how you’re doing; and here’s what he’s picked up on:

other than the wound on your cheek, your stomach area seems to be bruised or something close to that. you might’ve not told anyone about it, cause he hasn’t heard a peep of that anywhere, not even when he kept asking politely (or bugging, in the man’s eyes) for ieyasu’s information.

so fuck it, he just decides to ask you one day.

“why do you have an injury on your stomach area?”

it was a lesson hour, you didn’t expect him to throw,,,that curveball. maybe more of, what does this character mean? or how do you write this word? but. . .

“uhm—an incident that happened before the whole honno-ji thing.”

“and you never told anyone, even lord ieyasu?”

“n, no, kinda.”

he’s serious than before, and yet there’s something in his eyes that’s very inviting, inviting you to tell your feelings and story, inviting you to a hug of warmth and safety.

and you succumb.

“. . . things have been happening in my town before i came here.” then what was once a lesson sessioin, turned into you explaining what you and the world was going through before coming to the sengoku, with many phrasings replaced of course.

“is that so. . .” he mutters, “i haven’t heard a case like this, although i don’t doubt there aren’t any. . .i should do some reasearches.. .”

“i-it’s fine, really. . .!”

you managed to convince him that it’s fiiine, he shouldn’t read up on it and just focus on his works (since it would render your story false pretty quickly,,).

“but you still haven’t explained how you got the injury.”

“oh yeah. i got kicked down by one of the guards and then i got this as a result.” you pointed at the covered up wound, now probably just a scar, on your cheek. mitsunari goes silent, then a slow and silent hum resonates in him.

you’ve never quite seen the look in his eyes as you did. they were sharper, even if you weren’t situated in a battlefield, and you could see the gears turn in his brain. for what, you’re not quite sure.

“mitsu,,,?”

and with just your voice, his clouded eyes clear up, and he sends his angelic smile your way, “it’s fine now, lady—” his voice rings gently like bells, “you’re now safer. .even if you want to go back there. but i’ll be here by your side to protect you always, so please remember.”

“. . .heh, alright. of course i will.”

[marsalimackimmie]

Another Outlander Fic Idea

This is set in an AU where Jamie came through the stones to the 20th century soon after Claire returned, and they raised Brianna in the future together.

(I wrote this whole thing out at once and didn’t proof read it so please forgive any typos. It’s a mostly stream of consciousness outline.)

Bree always knew there was something different about her family-- in that they had none. All her friends had grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins… but the Fraser's were an orphaned family. Her Mama and Da had plenty of stories, but always said the people they discussed had died a long time ago. As a kid it made her sad in a detached sort of way, but as she grew older she began having more questions her parents couldn’t answer. 

Growing up, Bree had developed an interest in history with her father. He was always reading books, watching documentaries, and always seemed fascinated by everything he learned-- even the things everyone knew, and the things he supposedly lived through himself. It became something they bonded over, and it led Bree to her secret hobby of genealogy. 

Unbeknownst to her parents, Brianna one day organized a day trip with her friends up to Broch Morda, the place her parents always claimed Jamie was from. She searched their historical archives and church records, but could find no mention of Jenny, Brian, or Ellen Fraser born in the last few centuries. At one point a librarian said she HAD found people by those names, but perhaps it was a more distant ancestor(?) as they were all from the 18th century. 

With this being the only lead Bree had, she dug all in. Every detail that matched up with her parents’ stories (as few details as there were) made her confusion increase. Her first thought was “oh no, my parents are crazy”. Clearly, Jamie had become so lonely as an orphan that he constructed an entire backstory based on the lives of people who shared his last name 200 years ago, who he found through his weird fascination with history. Or was James Fraser even his real name? Oh god, is Fraser even HER real last name?

Freaked out, Bree decides to visit Broch Tuarach’s graveyard to make sure there weren’t just typos or mistakes in the records (it’s not like they’re very valuable or well preserved). The newest graves are full of Murray's, McTavishes, Mackenzies… wow a lot of M’s for a place built by the Fraser clan. She pushes through and finds many faded graves from the early 1800s… quite a few match the names from her supposed family history as well. Brianna is now certain her parents have been lying to her this whole time.

Roger, one of the friends Bree came to Broch Morda with, suggests that maybe they should try some archives in the larger Inverness instead, that maybe this whole Lallybroch business is just a weird coincidence, or a matter of family names repeating themselves. It’s not like Jenny and Ian are uncommon, after all, or James and Katherine for that matter. Brianna is skeptical but agrees. 

Back in Inverness, they dig through the library and find articles about Claire’s disappearance through the stones. Surprised, Brianna does the math and realizes her parents must have met when Claire ran away from this ‘Frank Randall’. The lies piling up, Brianna decides to call Frank and ask for any information he has. Frank is reluctant to speak to her when she ambushes him at his office, and she leaves.

Later she returns late at night hoping to break into his files (she’s really mad and not thinking straight, alright?) and instead finds Frank still there, drinking at his desk. In his drunken state, he tells her everything Claire had claimed about time travel, and stones, and that “bloody Scot bastard” who had taken everything from him. Bree is disturbed to find him so bitter and drunk, and honestly can’t fault her mother for leaving the guy-- he seemed awful. And how seriously could she take his story about magic stones when he’s three sheets to the wind?

Still, Bree can’t help but think. Her vacation is over and she goes back home to Claire and Jamie (they live in Edinburgh maybe, or a remote farming village away from modern hustle idk). Despite dropping many subtle hints, she can’t get her parents to crack. She does start writing down small details they mention about the family though-- for comparison to the historic family, out of curiosity, etc-- and trying to suss out whether her father is delusional or just lying. But he seems as sincere as ever, and never contradicts his stories like someone making it up might. 

Now Bree is starting to feel like the crazy one. Is there even anything here to uncover? So her parents are orphans; so her mom left a drunkard and married a Scot instead. Everything truly suspicious is just circumstantial, paranoid even. Why is she so fixated on it? In the end, Bree finally decides to drop it. 

She still had another visit to Inverness planned however, and Roger suggests they go to the Culloden heritage reenactment festival instead of getting stuck in dusty archives. Bree agrees, and Claire helps her assemble a period costume. Claire seems oddly knowledgeable and nostalgic about it, but Bree brushes it aside. In the end she has a costume that looks great, but isn’t totally accurate. It’s cheaper. It has zippers. She never said she was committed to accuracy ok? Still, making and wearing it seem to make her parents’ lips loosen a bit, and they all bond talking about Scotland and history and family the night before she leaves. As she’s going to sleep, she thinks she hears her parents discuss how they think “Jenny and Ian” are faring at Lallybroch, but that’s probably her imagination-- why would they speak in the present tense? And she knows for a fact Lallybroch is empty. 

Flash forward-- Bree and Roger have a great time at the festival. (To insert my own headcanon agenda, I should mention Roger and Bree are not romantic, just good friends. Roger knows Bree is secretly gay, and sometimes even tries to be her wingman. Bree is out to her parents after they caught her and Sally McGinnis making out when she was 17; that’s why they trust her to stay at Roger’s during trips without too much shovel talk.) When they get back to the manse, they run into Fiona (who had been dancing at the stones at sunrise and gone all day). She awkwardly lets them know she brought a man back with her, who seems like he just needs some help. Confused, they ask why he wasn’t brought to the hospital, and she says he doesn’t need it. Fiona claims this man was at the reenactment (to explain his clothes) but dodges most of their questions. Still, Roger is very hospitable as a Reverend’s son and lets him stay. 

The man, who introduces himself simply as Claudel, seems very friendly if a bit baffled. Still, Roger doesn’t love the idea of Bree staying in the building with a stranger and asks if she’d rather go home. Bree is resistant because she’s not some damsel who has to be protected, but Fiona pipes up and agrees with Roger. Especially since the trains aren’t running right now and the inn is full-- could she call Mr. & Mrs. Fraser to come pick you up, Bree? 

Outnumbered, Brianna angrily agrees. She then sulks in the living room until Claudel comes in and they talk for a while. Brianna complains that everyone treats her like she’s less capable, and the man commiserates, pointing out what she had missed earlier-- his missing hand. She asks what happened, and he vaguely says “the war”. (Fiona had briefed him on what happened to him, where/when he is now, and how he should be as vague as possible when he couldn’t give the truth or a good lie.) Brianna decides she doesn’t mind this guy, even though his presence is inadvertently forcing her to be picked up by her parents like a misbehaving child from a slumber party. 

About an hour or whatever later, there’s a knock at the door. Bree gets up, long suffering, and jokes with Claudel that it must be ‘her time’. They say goodbye amicably and he offers to walk her to the door like a gentleman. 

Bree answers the door to see Claire on the other side, looking equal parts ruffled and concerned, and almost doesn’t notice Claudel freeze behind her. She hears him ask, “Milady?” under his breath, and now her mother is freezing in place too. Do they recognize each other? she wonders.

Bree gets her answer almost instantly, when a smile stretches on her mother’s face and Claire goes to hug the man, saying “oh my god, Fergus. Oh my son.” Cue record scratch noise-- did Mama just call this man her son??? Bree has more questions than ever before.

[blackjack-15]

Are You Poe-ndering What I’m Poe-ndering? — Thoughts on: Warnings at Waverly Academy (WAC)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with links to previous metas (or not links, as tumblr is freaking out with links).

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: WAC, mention of Sabrina the Teenage Witch (the OG live-action show not the horrible CW monstrosity); discussion of the Poe short stories “The Imp of the Perverse” and “The Black Cat”.

The Intro:

It’s time to go to school, y’all — and not just any school; a rich, elite, all-girls school. Welcome to the jungle.

Warnings at Waverly Academy is one of two games that I don’t sort into a category (like “Expanded” “Jetsetting” or “Odd”), the other being the game that follows it (TOT). There are a few reasons for this — the next category really doesn’t apply, but neither does the previous category, WAC and TOT both feature a gradual shift in tone and approach to the games, etc. If I really had to pick a designation, I’d say that these are the “Growing Pains” games, where the world gets a little bit more open — but not all at once, the characters get a little more fleshed out — but not by much, and a few new things are tried with our character rolls — to varying degrees of success.

On the whole, WAC tackles its efforts far better than TOT does, but it does make for a slightly less interesting meta if one was just to focus on what WAC does wrong and what it does right. Instead, we’re going to take a look at how brilliant WAC is tonally and thematically, and how its source material — not kept secret in the game — builds it up and makes it better and better upon replays.

Before I begin, it’s fair to warn you all that my thesis was done on Poe and adaptation theory (and its relevance towards detective novels but I won’t touch much on that part of it), so I might get a bit nerdy. Hopefully it’s still exciting and relatable enough to the game that it’ll make for interesting, rather than academic, reading.

WAC uses Poe’s stories — specifically “The Black Cat” (obviously) and “The Imp of the Perverse” (in my slightly expert opinion) — as thematic (what the game means) and tonal (how the game feels) touchstones, not to mention their inclusion for some of the events in the plot. A brief summary of both is probably important when looking at how they relate to WAC.

“The Imp of the Perverse” is an essay-like short story by Poe that basically states that inside of every person is the desire to do something wrong or incorrect simply because it is wrong or incorrect (not morally, but in terms of self-interest).

In the story, a man commits a clever murder and gets away with it, receiving the inheritance that he wanted from the dead man. The man cannot be caught — there is no evidence of any wrongdoing, let alone any that points to him — unless he confesses. The idea of confessing — not out of guilt, but just because it would be the wrong thing to do — plays on his mind until, driven half-mad with his preoccupation, he confesses and is imprisoned and executed. The titular “imp” is basically a devil on the shoulder who wants what would be worst for our own self-interest, simply because it is the worst.

MENTIONS OF ANIMAL CRUELTY FOR THE STORY OF THE BLACK CAT. PLEASE SKIP IF THIS BOTHERS YOU.

“The Black Cat” on the other hand is pretty much a proto-“Tell-Tale Heart” — an alcoholic man becomes emotionally distant from his cat (a rare sentence, I know) because he things the cat is judging him for being a drunk; one night in a drunken rage, he cuts out its eye and kills it. A fire catches his home, leaving an imprint of the hanged cat upon the only standing wall.

END OF DIRECT MENTIONS OF ANIMAL CRUELTY.

The man and his wife move, and he, after a period of guilt, makes friends with another cat — a cat nigh-identical to the first one, even missing an eye. When he (drunk, as per usual) and his wife are walking down the cellar stairs, however, he nearly trips over the cat and becomes enraged, trying to kill the cat, only to be stopped by his wife. He instead kills his wife, burying her behind the wall of the cellar and bricking up the hole.

When the police come by they find nothing, and the cat has disappeared, so the man feels safe. The police come back to investigate the cellar, the man taps on the wall to boast of how well the house is made — only to have horrific screeching start up behind the wall. The police break the wall down and find not only his wife’s body, but the black cat sitting on it as well. The man breaks down, overwhelmed by his own guilt, and the story ends.

END OF BLACK CAT STORY SYNOPSIS.

It’s pretty clear what influence “The Black Cat” had on WAC — not only does the villain name herself after the titular cat, but WAC is also a story of guilt, hidden crimes, and personal weaknesses that manifest in rage towards other innocents.

It’s actually really interesting that Corine takes the mantle of “The Black Cat” up when she begins targeting other valedictorian candidates; the black cat in the story is sort of a symbol of the man’s sin — a reaction to his sins and misdeeds, and sort of a catalyst of justice. This ties into how Corine sees herself — someone rejected and mistreated by those who are “filthy” themselves, and who must then show others the things they hate about themselves.

It’s Corine’s self-identification as a victim that starts all this, and it causes her to victimize others in potentially fatal ways. The black cat stands for guilt, for the sins of others, and yet it leads Corine further and further away from any justness herself.

The story of “The Imp of the Perverse” has a little bit of a more subtle tie-in to the game; in a way, each suspect does exactly what they know they shouldn’t.

Rachel and Kim are obvious — they really shouldn’t switch back and forth so regularly, nor should they be so sloppy at informing the other as to what they did and who they met that day. Leela, who should be studying if she wants to keep her spot in the race, instead passes the time by playing sports. Mel knows that the cloak-and-dagger meetings are to be an absolute secret, yet wears hair bows that she constantly loses to one. Izzy has her future meticulously planned out, yet refuses to back up an incredibly important paper (and also relies on being popular, yet pursues other girls’ boyfriends).

Even Corine falls under this; by targeting Nancy, she’s ensuring that suspicion will fall on her, as 2/3rds of the victims would then be her roommates. She’s also cutting her chances of being valedictorian by not working hard for it and instead relying on other, riskier methods. Every move she makes leads to it being more and more obvious that she’s behind them — and yet, she continues anyway, just like the man in “The Imp of the Perverse” — leading from a few small incidents to attempted murder.

Ignoring WAC’s ties to Poe renders it as a good, solid mystery without anything remarkable about it (other than the pendulum, of course). Exploring its ties to Poe not only helps set up exactly who the villain is, but also sets the tone for the mystery. This isn’t a mystery of Nancy foiling a villain through her smarts; instead, it’s a story about how guilt and a perverse desire for self-destruction leads a once-promising valedictorian candidate to more and more severe crimes, culminating in the exact opposite of what she was working for.

The Title:

It’s pretty awesome, full stop.

Warnings at Waverly Academy is honestly a great title for a Nancy Drew mystery; it gives us location, a sense of the world we’re in (scholastic), and a vague yet not too vague sense of what’s going on. The alliteration is good, the abbreviation amuses me — it’s just solid all the way around.

There’s not much else to say; sure, you could strengthen it by finding a punchier “w” word to begin with, but that’s just quibbling. It’s great, I love it, let’s move on to the Happenings at Waverly Academy (which, by the way, would have been a terrible name for the game).

The Mystery:

Called in as a professional undercover detective, Nancy’s just young enough to hide in plain sight at Waverly Academy, an upper-crust private school for those girls fortunate enough to be both rich and smart (aside from a few scholarship students, who are simply smart). Nancy’s called in due to a few near-death experiences by students, punctuated always by notes simply signed “The Black Cat”. It’s only a few days until break ends, so Nancy must work quickly to stop the sabotage, find the Black Cat, and solve the mystery before anyone dies.

Nancy, as always, finds quickly that not everything is so cut-and-dried. Each valedictorian candidate has the motive, means, and opportunity to get the other girls out of their way, and all have something to lose. Add in a secret society, the threat of demerits from an overly zealous RA, and the sneaking feeling that there might be a greater mystery behind all of these incidents, and you get a case mostly unlike any that Nancy’s had to crack before.

Oh, and Ned is on the phone, serving the player up with the single punch of testosterone in the game (aside from the hunky Mr. Harris, of course).

As a mystery, WAC is honestly super solid. Lots of characters, lots of clues, lots of red herrings, lots of mini-mysteries going on inside of the larger mystery…it’s everything you want from a Nancy Drew game, and it doesn’t really drop any of the balls it juggles. Sure, the pendulum might be a bit much for you if you’re not up on your Poe, but I think it’s a lot of fun, and for sure a very different type of ending puzzle — not drowning or running out of air or any other ending that Nancy Drew games likes to do.

Let’s go to the movers and shakers behind this mystery, then, shall we?

The Suspects:

Mel Corbalis is the fan-favorite character, so let’s start with her in this huge, estrogen-laden cast. Distinctly of the goth persuasion, Mel is a fantastically talented cello player and a Waverly Legacy, despite the fact that no one at school wants to be caught dead near her. She’s not an outcast the way that Corine is, however, because of her simple insistence on being exactly who she is, and not trying to hide or apologize for it.

Go Mel.

As a suspect, Mel is slightly more suspicious than most other girls, on account of Megan being her roommate, but otherwise sits on fairly equal standing with them all. She’s by far the most outwardly aggressive, but also comes across as simply no-nonsense (a welcome thing in any girl’s academy, believe me). She also has the least of Poe about her, despite her taste in fashion, and is in general a breath of fresh wind.

Next up is Leela Yadav, athlete extraordinaire. She sure can bounce that ball, at least. Izzy’s roommate and just as much a social climber (though in less in-your-face ways), Leela wants it all — popular, athletic, and valedictorian. It’s a lot for any girl to handle, much less one who can’t seem to keep it all together.

As a suspect, Leela’s not bad — she’s as even as (most) anyone else throughout the first half of the game, but falls off a bit when Izzy isn’t specifically targeted by the Black Cat (as most of her gripes are against Izzy, particularly). Leela’s more there to increase the number of students and throw suspicion around, but she does a darn fine job of it, and is well-rounded enough to be genuinely enjoyable.

We’d be remiss not to mention the queen bee (and my personal favorite suspect) at Waverly Academy, Izzy Romero. Snobbish, arrogant, and with apparently the smarts and people skills to back it up, Izzy is the first Waverly girl that Nancy (as Becca) meets, and boy does she set the player up for what Waverly is really like. Izzy’s smart enough to know when she should put in the effort and clever enough to delegate it when she can, and that alone endears her to me, even leaving aside her hilarious dialogue and general vibes.

As a suspect, Izzy is the sole girl who really isn’t set up to be much other than what she is — a girl with more than enough smarts to get power, and enough power to pretty much do what she wants to do. Sure, Nancy can catch Izzy doing stuff she shouldn’t do, but she’s never really a heavy-hitter when it comes to the Black Cat stuff. I love her for that, too. She’s a lot like Libby from the original Sabrina the Teenage Witch show; a bit nasty, but hilarious and effectively harmless — and I’ve always liked Libby-style characters.

And her stint in the Blackwood Society is aces too. Man, this girl does not quit.

Rachel Hubbard, is, of course, actually Rachel and Kim Hubbard, and they are the plot point that WAC is most known for. They actually have marginally separate personalities too, with one being far snappier than the other, and having strengths in different subjects.

Part of the reason I love the Hubbard twins so much is that their presence is so...Poeian. Poe was all about duplicity and mirrors, and the Hubbard twins show off both themes. It’s just a wonderful little bit of a nod to the source material (thematically speaking) of the game, and I adore it.

As suspects, the Hubbards aren’t bad at all; they’re lying, sneaking around, and blatantly “forget” what they’ve said to people, all of which adds up to be very untrustworthy. Were it not for Nancy (and Corine) sneaking around, they might have gotten through their Waverly experience without anyone figuring it out — and that’s something to respect, even if it does make them prime targets for blackmail. And speaking of blackmail…

Corine Meyers is both Nancy’s roommate and 100% our villain this time around. Obsessed with becoming valedictorian and knowing she probably won’t get it, Corine basically puts out self-assigned hits on each of her fellow candidates, attempting to get the title by violence rather than by being worthy. She’s even cunning enough to blackmail the Hubbard twins into doing some of her dirty work, throwing people off her scent. Sure, Corine is a rather pathetic (in the non-sympathetic sense) person who I have little respect for, but she does make a good villain in a Poe-ish story.

As a suspect, the game actually makes a pretty good go at not assigning the blame too quickly to anyone, so Corine does manage to hide out in the shadows. Sure, one of the girls who went home was her roommate, but the other was Mel’s, so suspicion isn’t centered right on her. I also love that she’s actually punished for what she does — no amount of sad pictures at the end of the game changes that. Corine actually has the cleverness that CUR tries (but doesn’t succeed) to give Jane, and I think it’s wonderful.

I’m not going to give Megan Vargas or Danielle Hayes their individual chunks, but they are present here as well, standing in as victims so we know that this teenaged effery very nearly had a body count. They really help to give a sense of…well, purposeful disconnection to the game, where the setting and the snow and the fact that these are high school girls doesn���t stop the crimes from being deadly.

The Favorite:

The first thing that I have to say is that I love how the tone and crimes of this game contrast so well with a lot of the games (especially, sorry, CUR). This takes place at a school, your suspects are all teenaged girls…and yet the game doesn’t shy away from how horrific things really are to get Nancy called in. Two girls have nearly died in quick succession from one another, and the girls are going on chasing acclaim. It’s a messed up situation, and the game doesn’t shy away from pointing that out.

These crimes are treated with severity, and the culprit, despite things that might have softened her ending under lesser writers, is punished with total removal. WAC in some ways is a spiritual successor to SCK, in that it takes place at a school, lives are endangered, Nancy is (mostly) undercover, and the culprit is not above killing Nancy messily solely for personal gain. The difference, of course, is that SCK is not done well, and WAC, on the whole, is.

As mentioned above, I have a soft spot for Poeian detective stories, and so I enjoy WAC probably more than I would had they modeled it after, say, Holmesian detective stories instead. The ideas of duplicity, mirrors, guilt, the Imp of the Perverse — the self-destructive tendency to do what we should not simply because we should not do it — these are all present and accounted for in WAC from different girls and facets of the plot (Corine and the secret society both represent duplicity, the Hubbard girls are mirrors, Waverly’s own guilt towards the students it failed, etc.).

My favorite puzzle has to be WAC’s resident cooking minigame, where Nancy prepares hot lettuce sandwiches and definitely underdone cookies to the delight of the gossiping horde. It’s like TRN’s cheeseburger minigame writ large, and every second of it is wonderful — the gossip, the food-making, the unexpected panic of a teacher order — everything. It also helps Nancy keep her head above water, should she be caught sneaking around after hours, and I think that’s great as well.

My favorite moment of the game is when Nancy comes out of the wall in Mel’s room and Mel isn’t having even one iota of her excuses to cut and run. It’s not often that a non-villain will press Nancy so intently when Nancy does something Inherently Untrustworthy, and I think it’s great that a 17 year old girl behaves exactly as one would, demanding an explanation and not letting Nancy wiggle her way out of it. Sheer perfection and the moment, I would guess, that Mel became a lot of people’s favorite WAC character.

I also love everything to do with the Blackwood Society. Nancy goes so…metal there and we really don’t get enough of Metal Nancy. It features one of the few moments of absolutely, unequivocally brilliant voice acting that Lani stumbles upon (the conversation about the bow), and it’s a wonder to behold.

The Un-Favorite:

While WAC certainly has great things about it, it’s not by any means a perfect game. It wouldn’t sit in my top 10, and possibly not even in my top 15, though it would depend on the day. The reasons for this?

A big one is my least favorite puzzle: taking the pictures. It’s a good idea — a gofer quest to help Nancy get to meet each student, talk to them, etc. and make sure no one gets lost in the shuffle (like with what usually happens with Guadalupe in ICE, for example) — and is also great for acquainting Nancy with the Hubbard(s). However, in practice, the interface makes it incredibly obnoxious to do, what with having to retake pictures because the pan or zoom is slightly off, and having to jump around from place to place. It’s a good idea, but could have been implemented far, far more smoothly than it actually was.

My least favorite moment in the game is actually the whole deal with Izzy’s paper being deleted. It’s a dick move — and I have no problem with that, honestly, but the fact that she has no backup is just like…girl, what on earth are you doing where you don’t back up your work.

Adding to that is the fact that even in the far-off yesteryear of 2009, Word autosaves (as did many, if not all, word processors) and a copy definitely would have still been retrievable on her computer, and that the teacher would almost definitely have a previous rough draft or at least outline…it’s a pretty shaky thing to have happen (the not-having, not the deleting), and it does break the game down a bit. I know it’s not that big a deal to most people, but it seriously hampers my ability to stay within the world of WAC and to take the mystery seriously.

The Fix:

So how would I fix Warnings at Waverly Academy?

There’s honestly not too much to do; while not a perfect game, WAC is perfectly solid, accomplishing what it needs to do properly and well, without too many little flaws to mar its reputation.

In other words, it’s a bit like an unsuccessful valedictorian candidate; well-rounded, but not a standout when compared to others that burn a little brighter.

I would, however, re-work the picture task; I’m not sure how you could make it less clunky, mechanically speaking, but it definitely needs it, along with a way to know if it’s a good picture or not before you go through all the effort of going to the library and plugging in the camera. I love the idea — just make the idea work better.

I’d also change the “deleted paper” storyline and go a little more destructive — give the computer an awful virus instead. Sure, her paper is backed up (in 2009, probably on a USB drive, or saved to her email or something), and she has her stuff, but that locks away all personalized notes, study sheets, etc. It’s something that would be pretty damning for a Valedictorian candidate, while also still being firmly in the realm of believability.

And on a smaller note, remove the ability to call Bess in this game. It always goes to voicemail and serves no purpose. Why even include it?

Where WAC really shines is its individualistic approach to each girl and in its permeation of Poeian themes; that’s what makes it special as a game, rather than any of its individual parts. Sometimes, you need to take a break from haunted mansions and carousels and museum thefts and marriage troubles and friends who are always in need of help – and you just need to play a game with gossip galore, hot lettuce bagels, and an actual death-bringing pendulum to round it out.

[razorblade180]

interdimensional Dads 3

Jaune:Alright, you’re up Blue. Tell all about a world where we manage to get our Beacon crush. That’s how I know you aren’t lying when you say there’s magic in your Remnant again.

Jaune:Magic had nothing to do with it! It’s called time and life. Also I told her I was going to cut my hair and she felt appalled so I didn’t. She told me how much she loves it a little shaggy.

...

Jaune:What?

Jaune:(Did cutting my hair really change my life that much?) It’s nothing, continue.

Jaune:Okay? Well, where to start? I guess the magic is as good of a place as any. Not much on the surface has changed. The climate seems to be a bit more intense though. The gods are back as well, but no one knows exactly where.

Jaune:It’s not on any map?

Jaune:No, apparently it’s constantly changing. Those who get close to finding it usually get turned around by something. Even Oscar doesn’t know.

Jaune:Oscar is still himself? Oz didn’t take over?

Jaune:Why would be? We saved the world and he got to move on. Oscar does however still have all the memories and experience. Not to mention the one hell of a fighter. Though these days he prefers using all that knowledge for counciling.

Jaune:Good for him.

Jaune:He’s a therapist? Huh, yeah he’s definitely been through hell and back in all of our lives. I never really stop to think how crazy it all was.

Jaune:He’s also married to Penny.

Jaune:Penny is back!?

Jaune:Your world is kicking my world’s ass.

Jaune:It’s pretty wild for sure. Yet it feels vaguely normal. Most of my time is spent still doing huntsman work. I take bodyguard missions mostly these days since they normally aren’t as dangerous. Saving towns from grimm is something I have to leave to the others like Ruby. Weiss gets a little anxious otherwise; even more than the kids do these days.

Jaune:Now for the good part, gushing about your kids.

Jaune:*smiling* Nicholas and Summer Schnee, my little Twin Snowflakes. Both sixteen and quite the handful.

Jaune:You know of any of us needed to have twins, I’m glad it’s the one who married into wealth.

Jaune:Well you’re sorta right. However, Weiss was cut off for years until her father wrote her back into the family on his deathbed. So she’s become financially savvy from having to live in Argus for years. That includes the kids when they were little and even a pet dog. I’d like to think we’ve both grown up through the years but she’s definitely changed more than me.

Jaune:I think that might be true for all of us.

Jaune:Hehe, I got a feeling you’re right.

Jaune:Yeah my Weiss has gone through some shit and took it strides as well.

Jaune:Anyways, being rich is nice but we did pretty fine before it. Yeah we had to work constantly but it’s not like there wasn’t anybody we couldn’t ask for help. I say by far the craziest thing about my world is team RWBY is now a connected on the family tree and then some.

Jaune:Wait...that would mean- who married a Schnee besides you! Qrow married Winter and that’s it right!? Right!?

Jaune:*smiling* Is someone a little jealous of thinking about a world where Ruby married Whitley?

Jaune:...A little.

Jaune:I guess I can spare you those details then. Just know they’ve done some real good for Remnant.

Jaune:That, I didn’t doubt for a second. It’s just a little weird hearing she isn’t with me.

Jaune:You named your kids after Weiss’s grandfather and Ruby’s mom?

Jaune:Nick is the future heir and Summer got her name because....sigh

....

Jaune:It was the right thing to do.

The other’s didn’t probe that avenue any further. Without saying anything, they already knew.

Jaune:Ruby must really appreciate that.

Jaune:Yeah. She might not realize it but she shows a little bias to Summer because of it. Not that Nick particularly cares. I think he might enjoy not being on someone’s radar for once.

Jaune:Let me guess, Mr. Popular?

Jaune:President at combat school, runner up in regionals, gold in figure skating, future heir, master of promoting various events and hosting parties. Kid has it made, and yet...

Jaune:He doesn’t seem to be having fun? I think we might’ve found a similar thread between our kids.

Jaune:Makes sense. Nick has the same problem I still have sometimes.

Jaune:Overthinking?

Jaune:Taking the blow for others?

Jaune:Burdening himself for no reason.

Jaune:Yes....

Jaune:Oh...

Jaune:He’s the kind of kid who finds a way to finish work quickly so he can finish other work faster; in a never ending loop. All for the sake of making others lives easier. This also causes him to tunnel vision sometimes and not really ask what that person wanted in the first place. That, or he puts himself in a position where he doesn’t get to enjoy being a teenager. It’s partly the reason why Weiss and I don’t give him too much slack whenever he does something for the fun of it.

Jaune.Even in a time of peace, someone like him is taking a lot of responsibilities. Not sure if that’s an Arc thing or a Schnee thing.

Jaune:Trust me, it’s both. He seems to be handling it well though. Weiss really gets on him about taking time to just be himself. Honestly it feels like there’s a couple times he’s even trying to put on a face for us instead of cameras. Fortunately people like Valerie and Veronica seem to cut through that act.

Jaune:Oooh, lady friends?

Jaune:Valerie is Ren and Nora’s kid. He has a giant crush on her but I sort of think he tries too hard and should consider looking elsewhere.

Jaune:That’s ironic coming from you.

Jaune:That’s how you know it’s bad. Me, the guy who wrote a terrible song just to get a date to the dance. To be fair he’s not that bad but I feel like he’ll end crushing his confidence. I mean Veronica would be nice. Blake and Yang’s daughter has a thing for him that’s just as obvious for his crush on Val.

Jaune:(Huh, that’s two sets of different kids from the same parents now. I guess some relationships are harder to change than others.) Nick sounds like a fine young man. I bet things will workout. He seems bright.

Jaune:Yeah, I just hope nothing blows up in his face. As for Summer, she’s practically the spitting image of her mother except with my eyes and light blonde hair. She’s pretty timid and a really kind girl. Smart as a whip too! Definitely got that from her mom; as well as her singing.

Jaune:She performs?

Jaune:Yeah, Atlas loves her music. She has good range, learned guitar from yours truly, tops the charts sometimes in other kingdoms, and genuinely seems to enjoy the life of a singer.

Jaune:But she’s timid?

Jaune:Yeah. Off the stage, she tries to get by life like a background character, but still wants to hang around Nick who’s always in a spotlight! When she was younger she got into a incident with dust that severely injured her. Thankfully she lived but now Summer has several scars over her body that she can’t stand. Also...that wasn’t all she got. Scars are least of her problems. The dust mixed with her cells in unexpected ways.

Jaune:Over exposer, did she get some sort of chronic illness or deficiency?

Jaune:Honestly, we don’t know what to call it. Whenever she gets too cold, Summer changes. Her hair goes white, eyes look like mother, and her personality does a 180. More than that actually. It’s more like she’s been possessed and what’s nothing more to rule everything. We call it Shiva. We have it under control mostly after ten years of dealing with it but there’s still scares now and then. Whatever Shiva is, she’s strong and capable of terrible things. Thankfully no casualties yet, but plenty of close calls and extra scars for almost everyone involved. The mental strain it puts on Summer almost seems crippling. I...don’t really know what to do about it at this point. She’s been distant, and I feel like she isn’t telling me something.

Jaune:....

Jaune:Well...you haven’t lost anything yet right?

Jaune:Huh?

Jaune:Don’t look so bummed. Ten years and nothing too tragic to show for it. Maybe it’s luck, or everyone is way stronger than this problem after all. Including your daughter. Trust me, daughters are way stronger than what father’s give them credit for.

Jaune:Ha, you know he might be on to something with that. You heard my story. Yujin was keeping things together for a long time. That being said, they’re still our little angels and can only go so far. Eventually they’re gonna wish to see someone like their dear old dad to to lean on. That’s our job after all.

Jaune:Yep. You’ll figure it. Like you said, you’re not alone.

Jaune:I might have a daughter but I know a thing or two about distant kids. Take it a step at a time, and let them know you’re always there.

Jaune:...*smiles* Thanks guys.

Jaune:No problem!

Jaune:I wonder what’s up with those two right now? Probably training for their tournament no doubt.

xxxx

Training is putting it lightly. The cold Argus air is filled with smoke as a fire burns in the forest. Nick kneels with his sword stabbed int ground. His body trembles from exhaustion and sweat runs down his face while his hands still grip the blade handle til his palms bleed. Surrounding him is Apathy as pale as ghost with ghastly blue eyes that make them look like they’re right out of horror movie.

Though he’s tired, he manages to lift his head up and see his sister on her hands and knees, not as roughed up as him but more drained from the grimm. Summer looked at her brother with eyes that constantly flickered between shades of blue before turning the shade of their father’s. Summer fell forward, all motivation to move taken away.

Nick:You okay...?

Summer:Y-Yeah...thanks. Sorry.

Nick:Next time....we’ll bring Ruby just in case.

He found the strength to walk towards his sister and carried her on his back. The summoned Apathy keeping a certain range around them like a dome as he walked. Summer found whatever strength she had to raise her right hand up and snapped her fingers. A cool wind came off her finger tips and snuffed out flames before it got out of hand.

Summer:Can’t have this place burning down right?

Nick:You’re gonna get cold again.

Summer:She’s tired...and I’m spent. Even if she comes out, my body can’t move so...zzzzz

Nick:Sigh, saw that coming.

Nicholas walked as fast as his body let him. Abandoning both of their swords in favor or retrieving them later. They’d gotten lucky, the sun was out and he had handled the situation before Shiva could find her stride. Warm clothing also did its part.

He felt Summer shift around on his back and started moving faster. He hated this part.

Nick:I don’t wanna talk to you.

Shiva:That’s no way to treat family.

Nick:But an icicle to the leg is?

Shiva:How else was I supposed to slow you down? You’ve gotten stronger, dodging it the way you did. How unpleasant for me. I’ll aim higher next time, I’ll make sure not to rough up that money maker of yours though.

Nick:Next time I’ll throw you in the fire so you’ll be too tired to talk. Your days are numbered. It must be a pain dealing with me and trying to keep control. Sooner or later you won’t be able to do anything but lose until Summer snuffs you out. Then you’ll be nothing more than a bad dream.

Shiva:....Hmmm aha!

Shiva:I’ve decided then. I guess I’ll just have to kill you first before that happens.

A chill went down his spine as he could feel her ice cold breath hit his ear as she whispersed...

Shiva:Let’s see if I’ll be a bad dream them.

Nick looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but his sister’s sleeping face. Not a sign of anyone or anything else; just peaceful slumber. The boy continued walking in silence. He was still sweating, still trembling, but no longer from the cold. Exhaustion crumbled to adrenaline. He started going back to the sight of their training to grab his sword. After all, who knows what could happen on the way back?

Part 2

Start reading Twin Snoflakes?< Part subzero

[mocha-sim]

“Old AU/fanfic ideas I’m probably never going to write” dump

(Long post warning)

---

“Full Circle”, first fic I came up with when I got into the fandom around early 2018, your basic next-gen fic except the main focus is on the student council, who all somehow wind up involved in the case of Ayano’s daughter, Kataba (which is a dumb name in retrospect). Kuroko is Kataba’s teacher, and Akane is the guidance counsellor. Aoi and Shiromi don’t actually appear until after the first rival is killed (pretty early in the story), when Aoi - a bodyguard at Saikou Corp. - is sent to the school to watch over Megami’s son, and Shiromi is a detective/journalist assigned to the case. Weirdly enough, Megami’s son Haruki ends up being the one to trigger the “senpai effect” in Kataba

I had some ideas for rivals:

Haruki’s close friend Emiko, kind of a flirt. Gets stabbed to early in the story for the audience to really get to know her

Rikuto, leader of the gardening club, and a very emotional guy who may or may not have been suffering abuse at home. Iirc Kataba drops something heavy on him in the shed to kill him

Kano, leader of the (now-official) gaming club, grumpy and rude but has a soft spot for cute things, kind of a depressed attitude and maybe has drug problems. Gets driven to suicide

Kazumi, leader of the art club, an energetic girl who’s popular around the school, but a daydreamer. Suffering from an unwanted pregnancy

Chika, leader of the science club, cold and distant personality, others call her “ice queen”, looks up to Kaga who now has his own huge corporation. Kataba sabotages her experiment (a small robot) to quite literally blow up in her face at a science convention, which kills her

Isamu, leader of the school’s kickboxing team. I never really fleshed him out tbh

Tamotsu, leader of the delinquents, infamous throughout the school and has the kind of personality you’d expect a delinquent to have. I don’t remember the details of how I planned to have him eliminated but I think Kataba found some way to get him killed by a rival gang

Sadashi, a timid and quiet new student who moved from elsewhere in the country and is struggling to adjust to life at Akademi. Again, I don’t think I fleshed her out as much as the others, but there was something about her trying to get into the student council

Masumi, Haruki’s childhood friend whose family is constantly moving around for business reasons, but is always texting and video-chatting with him. Just like Haruki, she’s extremely rich and is one of the only people who can really relate to him. A very calm and polite girl. If I'm remembering right, I think she actually survives, but gets kidnapped and tortured by Kataba and never really recovers from the trauma

The tenth rival is actually Haruki’s bodyguard, Aoi. By this point in the fic it’s all gone to shit, there’s a missing person’s report out for Masumi, Akademi is in a state of panic and many students have stopped coming to class, and there’s been talk about shutting the school down permanently. The focus is kind of split between everything that’s going on (Masumi, the state of the school, Shiromi’s investigation, Taro and Ayano’s marriage falling apart, Kataba trying to kill Aoi) instead of just focusing on the current rival

I think had one idea for a student who’s not a rival: a Midori-like student called Tsuki Muun... but she was a gag character more than anything

There are other canon characters who appeared in the story, like Ayano and Taro, Megami (though she doesn’t play a major role), Info trying to help Kataba for her own benefit (I had a vague idea about her going undercover as one of Shiromi’s coworkers and trying to sabotage the investigation), possibly Osana and/or Hanako, and I considered having Oka show up as a ghost

Taro is kind of an ongoing obstacle for Kataba and is the one who rescues Masumi from the basement (he also hits Ayano with a chair when she tries to stop him from taking Masumi to the hospital by threatening him with a knife. King behaviour)

Kataba is actively trying to sabotage Shiromi and her coworkers. Early on in the story she kills Shiromi’s search dog as a “warning” to her

Shiromi and Taro end up becoming close friends whilst she’s investigating his daughter’s crimes. Ayano gets kind of suspicious but I don’t really remember where that ended up going. Also there’s this whole scene where they break into Kataba’s room while she’s out to find her bulletin board with notes/pictures of all the rivals and how to eliminate them

Aoi is not only Haruki’s bodyguard but his godmother as well, and he calls her “auntie”

There’s some conflict between them because he feels that she’s too overprotective and, being a teenager who wants to hang out with his friends, he doesn’t want some middle-aged woman lurking over his shoulder all the time

Over the story they start to resolve things and grow closer. Aoi supports him when he feels insecure about not living up to the “perfect” image of his family

Since the story would take place around 20 years in the future I think I was going to take some liberties with technology and stuff like that, especially during Chika’s week

Akademi’s uniform also changed over the years to something more fitting for a high school, the number of students attending grew much larger, and their sports club/martial arts club were replaced with something closer to actual high school sports teams

---

Supernatural creature AU, where everyone except Taro and Hanako is some kind of monster/creature/etc. 

Taro is oblivious to everyone around him being monsters and thinks the school he attends just has a lot of weird students, but he’s an accepting and non-judgmental person so he just takes it in stride. Hanako, however, knows what’s going on and has to constantly keep Taro from walking straight into danger

Ayano is a demon who Taro unknowingly sold his soul to in exchange for a bag of chips, and now she wants her repayment. She and Hanako are almost constantly at odds with one another, but on occasion they team up to protect Taro from a “greater threat”

Instead of an occult club (because I think that would be kind of obsolete in this AU), there’s some kind of support/therapy group for undead creatures like zombies, ghosts, vampires, etc. Oka decided to start it because of the struggles she’s faced as a zombie

The sports club are all aquatic monsters of some kind. There’s at least one merman in there

The science club are aliens and/or have some kind of “artificial human” theme going on (robots, Frankenstein-esque creatures, etc.)

The gardening club are all fairies - the kind who do things like tending to flower gardens and cleaning around your house

Shiromi, on the other hand, is more of a “trickster” kind of fairy who steals shiny things/valuables, gets people lost in the woods for fun, and may or may not eat human flesh (Hanako makes the assumption that she does and tries to save Taro from her). She doesn’t get along too well with most of the gardening club

Akane is a banshee who ends up serving as the student council’s “alarm” for when someone is dying

Aoi is some kind of reptilian/dragon creature who can breathe fire, but probably can’t fly

I don’t think I ever got anything set in stone for the rest of the student council. I was thinking of making Kuroko or Megami a seraph but that doesn’t really fit in with the “monster” theme

One of the bullies is a shapeshifter of some sort

At least one of the delinquents is a werewolf

Iirc the existence of monsters/supernatural creatures wasn’t common knowledge even in this AU and Akademi was created as a “safe” school for them to get an education without the threat of being discovered by humans. How Taro and Hanako got in... nobody knows. Maybe someone thought the two of them were a little too average and had to be hiding something

Most of the other students at Akademi are aware that the two of them are humans, and some find them fascinating or like to mess with them. Others are wary around them and try to avoid them out of fear that they’ll react badly. The rest of the students are just horribly confused and trying to figure out what they are

---

Aoi x Shiromi biker/mechanic AU

Aoi is part of a biker gang, but her bike is an absolute rustbucket that’s constantly breaking down and there’s only one reliable repair shop in the small town she lives in. The mechanics keep suggesting that she gets a new bike but she has a sentimental attachment to her old one and doesn’t want to get rid of it. She’s gonna get fined for driving it eventually

Aoi doesn’t get along with her family in any AU it seems, and trying to stay away from the house as much as possible led to her getting involved with the biker gang (probably with the martial arts club members). Luckily, the gang she’s a part of is much more benevolent than the other major gang in town and mostly acts in defense of themselves or others. They’re politically active more than they are actually criminal, and the illegal things they do basically amount to protests and the like

The “rival gang” is the delinquents. They’re the ones who commit more crimes like theft, vandalism, drug trafficking, etc., and usually do what they do for money. They’re not afraid to use physical intimidation and violence to get what they want. Both gangs often wind up in trouble with the law for collateral damage during their fights

The delinquents hate Aoi more personally than the other members of her gang because of a) the amount of problems she’s caused for them and b) a rivalry with their leader, Osoro, which dates way back to high school. Aoi gave Osoro that scar on her face, and Osoro damaged Aoi’s eye badly enough that it had to be removed

Kaga and Shiromi’s parents died at some point when Shiromi was in high school. Kaga was already an adult at that point, plus a mechanical genius, and was old enough to take over the repair shop. He taught his little sister everything he knows so that she could help him after she graduated. They live in a small apartment right above the shop

Shiromi usually winds up being the one to repair Aoi’s bike (or at least helping) and the two of them start bonding over that

Most of the people around Shiromi’s age (19-ish in this AU) left town to attend college somewhere better, or get a job elsewhere, so she’s found herself lonely a lot since she graduated high school. Sure, there are the other employees at the repair shop who she gets along well with, but they’re all significantly older than her and she can’t really connect with them the same way she could with her friends from high school. She’s grateful for the opportunity to talk to someone close to her own age for once and potentially make a new friend (though Aoi doesn’t really want anything to do with that at first)

At some point Aoi comes in seriously injured after a fight, but denies that she’s hurt. Shiromi convinces her that she needs to go to the hospital and gets her there

Kaga already has some protective-older-brother tendencies (which Shiromi hates), but it practically doubles when she starts hanging out with Aoi and the rest of Budo’s gang. She knows Kaga just wants her safe and uninvolved in gang conflicts, but by this point she’s really attached to Aoi and wants to keep seeing her, so Kaga backs off under the condition that Shiromi stays on her guard and doesn’t go out at night

As Aoi and Shiromi start hanging out outside of the repair shop more often, the delinquents realize that Aoi has someone close to her that they can use to hurt her

They start making threats against Shiromi just to provoke Aoi, or otherwise messing with the two of them. After a fight in which Umeji suffered a major head injury that hospitalized him, and Osoro’s gang lost the drugs they were trying to sell, Osoro makes the decision to kidnap Shiromi to lure Aoi in and beat up/possibly kill her. They succeed in the kidnapping, but it falls apart when Shiromi tricks the guy who’s supposed to be guarding her and escapes on her own before Aoi even shows up

After this incident Kaga is full-on freaking out and forbids Shiromi from seeing Aoi, blaming her for Shiromi getting kidnapped. The two of them keep communicating through text and Shiromi sometimes sneaks out to see her

Before the story takes place Aoi wasn’t super close with the other members of the gang - they were acquaintances more than anything. Over the course of the story she gets closer to them and starts to learn more things about them (like the fact that Budo is/once was in the same situation as her - in love with a girl (cough-Oka-cough) whose family wouldn’t let her near him because of his lifestyle)

There’s a whole arc focusing on Aoi’s parents trying to get Aoi out of the gang, not because they’re genuinely worried for her safety but because they think their daughter being part of a gang reflects badly on them. They possibly try to get the other members of the gang arrested

After this arc, Aoi moves out into her own place near the repair shop, and Shiromi and Budo help her move in

Aoi and Shiromi end up happy together, Kaga and Shiromi resolve things between them, Aoi no longer has to deal with her parents, Budo ends up with Oka, the other gang members resolve their own character arcs, and the delinquents end up in jail

---

Magical girl AU which, tbh... I never really fleshed out. It was mostly an excuse to draw cute magical girl outfits. But I did have some stuff down for it!

The placeholder club leader/now the empty demon is the “Kyubey”-type thing that gives all of them their powers

I never really figured out whether I wanted to take a dark route or a more light-hearted one with this. I think my favourite idea would probably be something in between, though - not super grimdark and edgy, but not all sunshine and rainbows either

All of them got not only powers and weapons, but also enhanced physical abilities like running faster, jumping higher, increased strength, increased durability, and more stamina. But those abilities would only take effect while transformed. I was thinking one of them would get used to having enhanced abilities and keep trying to do things they can’t actually do in their normal daily life, which eventually gets them hurt

Kuroko has some sort of rifles and the ability to form hard-light shields to protect herself or others

Akane’s weapon is a bow for which she can produce as many arrows as she has energy for. She also got the power of flight/levitation

Aoi has a sword, like a really heavy broadsword type of thing that she can somehow lift with one hand, and the ability to breathe fire

I think I was planning on giving Shiromi a weapon at some point, but I don’t remember what it was... My other idea was her not having one single weapon, but being able to produce as many small projectiles like throwing knives, shuriken, etc. as she needs. She can also become completely invisible

I don’t think I really had anything fully decided for Megami tbh. I had a vague idea of what kind of outfit she would wear but I never drew any designs (at least, not that I remember)

They definitely have to do some travelling around Japan at some point

Ayano may or may not have been an “evil magical girl”, I don’t really remember

---

Another one I didn’t flesh out a whole lot: the fic where a bunch of Akademi students go on a camping field trip

Info attends school as a normal student in this AU and is part of the group that goes camping

It’s Ayano, Info, Osana, Megami, Kuroko, Akane, Aoi, Shiromi, Osoro, Kaga, Taro, Umeji, Budo, Itachi, and Tsuruzo

There’s a scene where they’re all gathered around a campfire telling horror stories. Kaga offers to hold Megami if she’s afraid. Megami is not afraid, is sick of his shit, and tells him to go sit somewhere else

At some point they need more wood for the fire, but nobody wants to go into the woods to get it, so Shiromi tells the boys that whoever brings back the most wood can have a date with Akane. It gets most of the boys off of their butts for sure, but Kuroko scolds her for it. Shiromi just says that, once they’ve got the firewood, it’s not like they actually have to go through with their end of the deal. Kuroko heads off into the woods to collect some herself

Kuroko ends up bringing back the most wood and waves Akane off, saying that she just did it so that she wouldn’t have to go to dinner with one of the boys, but Akane insists on giving her that date when they get home

Everything is going great with the camping trip until they wake up one morning to find Osana missing from the girls’ cabin. They spend hours searching before someone finally finds her dead in the lake

Everyone is certain that this wasn’t an accident and the mood immediately plummets. Almost everyone has their suspects and is at each others’ throats. The teachers who are supervising decide that they’ll all pack up and be ready to leave tomorrow morning

However, Itachi and the delinquents want to figure out who killed Osana and bring them to justice. One thing leads to another and all the students end up lost in the woods. At some point the delinquents suspect Info and attack her, which injures her and splits the group in two

After that I’m not really sure where things go, but everyone is trying to get back to the main camp and get home safely. Aoi is in the same group as Info and is hella suspicious of her as well so not everything is peaceful. There are some people in Umeji and Osoro’s group who are pissed at them for attacking Info and splitting the group. Taro is extremely upset by Osana’s death and Megami comforts him, which leads to Ayano plotting to kill Megami as well while they’re still here, and possibly hindering the group/trying to isolate Megami as a result.

---

I had a pirate/mermaid AU for Aoromi but I never wrote anything down for it - I just had a few really, really old sketches I never posted

Iirc, the general plot was that Aoi’s crew was struggling after the betrayal of Ayano and the death of the former captain Megami + many other crew members, and couldn’t really do anything but run from other crews who tried to attack them, their only advantage being that their ship was still the fastest. Then they fish up a mermaid, Shiromi, who they plan on selling for money to hopefully try and get back on their feet, but end up getting emotionally attached to her

---

Superhero AU which I think I’ve mentioned before but

Anyone with superpowers is legally required to work under the government to defend the citizens whenever they’re called, but they don’t get any pay or significant benefit from it so they also have to work other jobs in their civilian lives. This causes huge amounts of stress

There are some who formed their own group to rebel against this system, which eventually evolved into trying to establish a new society in which they are above those without powers. Info is their leader. Her powers revolve around hacking, not just technology but people as well (though the latter is a lot more complicated and difficult)

Hanako is a sort of “sleeper agent” who doesn’t actually know that she has any powers, let alone that she’s one of the most powerful. Info finds out before she does and brainwashes her. Hanako constantly finds herself “blacking out” and then waking up in her room hours later with no memory of what happened. Meanwhile, a new member of Info’s organization shows up under the name “Nemesis”

Kaga doesn’t actually have any powers, but works for Info and her organization anyway. He’s a technological genius who built himself some kind of Iron Man-esque robotic suit to fight alongside them. He believes that if he works with the “winning side”, when they eventually take down the government, he’ll be spared/treated better than the others. Spoiler: he won’t. Info is planning on discarding him as soon as he outlives his usefulness to her

Also Kaga’s codename was “Dr. Bluescreen”. Clearly the most intimidating name ever.

Homu is a robot and one of Kaga’s inventions. She ends up developing sentience and emotions

Seiyo and Ajia are rivals in both their civilian and superhero lives. They work as waiters at the same restaurant

Being born with powers also comes with enhanced abilities like speed, power, endurance, etc. Ayano doesn’t have any actual powers, but has all the other enhancements (maybe even more so than the others) and is considered one of them anyway

Megami’s power is to calculate her opponent’s weaknesses and adjust her own powers accordingly. It sounds good, but it’s not so great when facing off against more than one person at a time

Aoi has fire-related powers and is in constant conflict with the fire department

Kuroko can produce toxins from her body, Akane can fly, and Shiromi can camouflage herself or other objects/people

Info and Shiromi go way back and Info is constantly trying to convince her to come over to her side. Info may or may not brainwash her at some point which sort of sets off Kaga because opposite sides or not, that’s still his little sister

At some point I was thinking of adding a “middle group” who don’t want to work under the government but don’t want to put themselves above people without powers, either. Maybe the delinquents

---

[thetimelesscycle]

Tales of Arcadia Wizards Fanfiction: Hope Dies Last - Chapter 3

A moppet in distress.

A/N: I have unexpectedly received three days off work (in a good way), so we are celebrating with an early chapter. Enjoy. :-)

Chapter 3

Keep Calm and Panic

The next time he awoke he was lying on his back, resting on something far softer than the stone floor. There was a pillow beneath his head and a thick blanket that had been tucked around his shoulders; He could feel the warmth against his skin even as his body shivered helplessly, caught in the sensation of ice lodged beneath his ribs. There was a weight on his chest, a comforting heaviness that vibrated slightly and eased the fierce ache that still lingered there, and a hand that rested sometimes against his forehead or trailed in idle patterns through his hair. He must have opened his eyes at some point — someone asked if he was awake — but he couldn’t see anything that made sense and let them drift closed again.

Snatches of conversation came to him, broken and disjointed, as if he were walking in and out of a room in the middle of a debate. It seemed like an argument, mostly; Two, sometimes three, voices bouncing one off the other. Other times it was softer, just one voice speaking to him as that gentle rumble rolled on and on. 

Another sensation came and went. A touch that was not physical, warmth that briefly eased the ice in his veins before receding and taking that comfort with it. He both wanted it to stay and did not; Grateful for the gentleness but fearful of what lingered behind it.

He woke up. The rumble was gone and he was still cold. Quiet voices drifted back and forth somewhere not too distant from where he’d been placed. The pain had receded to something more manageable, though he still felt awful, his limbs leaden weights he couldn’t bring himself to move just yet. Not until he figured out what had happened.

His head was pounding like a drum, which didn’t exactly facilitate clear thinking. He tried anyway, uncomfortably aware of how wrong he felt in his own skin. It was like his own body didn’t quite fit him anymore; An inch short of his expectations, the bracelet on his wrist not the comforting weight it should have been, the magic at his fingertips a stronger force than he knew how to control. He felt stitched together, stiff in a way that had nothing to do with the physical, and underneath all of that was the overwhelming, irrational need to run.

Summoning his willpower in the place of any actual strength, he threw back the covers of what he belatedly realised was his master’s bed. That small act took nearly all the energy he had — he certainly wasn’t going to be running anywhere in the immediate future — but he did manage to lever himself upright, freezing when he caught sight of his reflection in the full length mirror on the opposite wall.

He’d never exactly been a picture of health; Pale and with ample bags under his eyes to speak of too many sleepless nights. Right now, there was no colour in his face at all. The slight roundness his cheeks had gained with the advent of regularly available meals was gone, the gauntness that replaced it making him look almost skeletal. The shadows under his eyes could have been bruises, though he had a feeling it would have hurt less if someone had actually punched him in the face. There was a strip of linen tied about his head, stained red where it rested against a wound he did not remember getting, and the tips of his hair appeared to have turned blue.

He touched the coloured edges just to be certain he wasn’t seeing things, the sight strangely familiar and yet utterly foreign, then grimaced at his reflection as his chest throbbed. He raised a hand to press against it as he struggled to remember why it hurt at all. He had a vague recollection of ice encasing his hands, pinning him in place as a glowing red stone was pressed to his chest, flooding him with furious, malevolent magic. He remembered pain, worse than anything he had felt in all his life, and then an awful wrenching sensation as a cooler, softer touch ripped him away from imminent death, leaving pieces behind as he was torn free.

None of it made sense. Not the memory, not the pain, and not the creeping sense that he wasn’t safe here. He couldn’t think clearly around the nonsensical thoughts bouncing back and forth within his skull. He stood up because he felt like he should, then wavered as the room revolted against its stationary existence. Gripping the wall for balance, he waited out the slow rotation of the floor beneath his feet, letting go only once his knees locked and his vision stopped swimming in sickening circles. He made it all of two steps and then lost his balance again, flailing wildly, taking an entire shelf of potions to the floor with him.

The crash was horrendous, and predictably cut whatever conversation was happening in the next room short. He heard and felt the approaching footsteps, blessedly numb to the pain of his own impact, and did nothing to escape them. It was habit that drove the slurred words he uttered when a hand gripped his shoulder and turned him over.

“S—sorry, Master. I’ll clean it up. I—”

“Hisirdoux, I could not care less about the state of my floor right now. Are you alright?”

He blinked stupidly, upright with Merlin’s hands gripping his shoulders, Archie hovering in fretful silence behind the Master Wizard.

“Uh...” That was definitely not intelligible. He raised a hand to touch his head, to try and order his thoughts. It came away damp, a fact that seemed inconsequential in the face of the unknown danger that was making his heart race and his wobbling legs itch to move. But Merlin had asked a question, and it was an answer, even if it was not the right one. “I think I’m bleeding again.”

Merlin made an odd noise in the back of his throat. Hisirdoux couldn’t tell if it was anger or frustration, and wasn’t given much time to think about it. The Master Wizard tugged him to his feet and set him on the edge of the bed before the room could start spinning again. Archie immediately settled in his lap, the familiar not even trying to hide the fact it was to keep him in place. He needn’t have bothered; Douxie wasn’t planning on getting up again any time soon.

It was still so hard to think, and he felt as if he was forgetting something. Something important. His attempts to grab at his skittish thoughts only made his head pound more fiercely, and he was pitching forward before he knew what direction that was, resting his burning forehead against the comfortable coolness of Merlin’s shoulder plates.

“Hisirdoux...”

For once, his master sounded more perturbed than irritated. Irrationally, that realisation had him swallowing around a lump in his throat, desperately trying to still the tremors overtaking him again. He couldn’t really hope to hide it; Merlin was holding him in place, Archie kneading quietly in his lap. He tried anyway.

“Hisirdoux, I need you to focus.” Merlin didn’t try to shift him, letting him stay where he was despite how awkward it must have made seeing to his injury. “I need to know what happened before Morgana found you. Did you go anywhere, touch anything, see anyone?”

“I’ve already told you,” Archie snapped irritably. “We were in your study all day, and I was in the room with him when he woke up. Nothing happened that would cause this!”

“And I’ve already told you that can’t be right. An injury like this doesn’t happen by accident. Someone caused this. You must have missed them.”

“My eyesight may be bad, but I can assure you I would have noticed someone attacking my own familiar!”

Torn black wings and frosted fur. His own voice cracking as grief blinded him for the bare second his adversaries needed to render him helpless.

“We told you you would die for this.”

Ice and fire

Red and blue.

“You should have run when you had the chance.”

Pain. Excruciating, inescapable pain.

He back-pedalled so fast he dislodged Archie right onto the floor, freezing when his back hit the wall and feeling his breath stutter in his chest as his eyes darted frantically about the room, trying to find the danger. It took a long time for the ringing in his ears to quiet enough for him to realise he was being spoken to; Longer still for the words to start making sense.

“Back with us, Hisirdoux?”

Merlin waited until his gaze focussed, then released the frantic dragon he’d been holding in check. Archie approached cautiously, pouncing when Douxie opened his arms in invitation. Holding his familiar close, he buried his face in Archie’s reassuring warmth. He didn’t make a sound when the first sob escaped him. He didn’t need to; Archie always knew.

“Oh, Douxie.”

He could feel Merlin’s weighted gaze on them, though the Master Wizard remained silent, giving them a few moments of precious peace. When he did speak it was with an awkward gentleness that was more rusted than Galahad’s old set of plate.

“You are safe here.” His teacher had made a similar promise, he recalled, that first terrifying night in a castle surrounded by Arthur’s knights. It hadn’t sounded any more reassuring back then. “The tower is warded against hostile magic, and Morgana and I have made sure no one but the three of us can safely get inside.”

“Four,”’Archie chipped in, only slightly muffled by Douxie unintentionally crushing him. “Merlin is right, Doux. No one is going to hurt you.”

“I—I don’t.” His breaths still didn’t seem large enough to fill his lungs, making it difficult to get the words out. “I don’t remember what... what happened.”

“At all?”

It could have been alarm or disbelief colouring Merlin’s words. He didn’t dare look to see, shaking his head by way of an answer. Merlin inhaled sharply, but kept his words calm when he spoke.

“Hisirdoux, I need to examine the wound again.”

Archie hissed at the intrusion. Douxie lifted his head just enough to peer at his master through his messy fringe, the shock of colour there distracting him momentarily before he refocused. Merlin took the fleeting eye contact as an invitation to continue.

“There is dark magic at work here. I need to make sure you aren’t getting any worse.” He offered his hand, movements as steady as ever, and uncharacteristically made another promise. “If it makes you feel better, you can watch what I’m doing. It won’t hurt.”

It had last time. He took Merlin’s hand anyway, forcing himself to sit a little straighter as he closed his eyes, becoming aware of the brush of his master’s magic against his own. The touch was careful, encasing him slowly, Merlin’s bright aura a stark contrast to his own paled, disrupted magic. He felt no danger, no ill intent, just the same gentle pull Merlin had used to guide him through countless other exercises. He found himself tensing regardless, breath catching in his throat as his master’s focus began to drag them both deeper.

“Easy...” Archie’s reassurance sounded right beside his ear. Unconsciously, he tightened his one-armed embrace around the small dragon. “You’re safe, Douxie. I’m not going to let anyone harm you.”

If only he’d been able to return that favour. If only his newfound confidence hadn’t been ripped out from under his feet so quickly he hadn’t had time to realise just how badly wrong things had gone until he was about to be wiped from the face of existence. Stray thoughts, and terrifying ones, because the memories attached to them continued to elude him with the determined agility of a feral gnome.

He would have to sit down and figure this all out later. Once Merlin was finished and he’d rested some more. For the time being, he followed in the Master Wizard’s metaphorical footsteps, slowly taking notice of the various physical sensations he had been doing his best to ignore.

He ached all over, though it had dulled somewhat since his awakening. There was a headache brewing behind his eyes that he supposed was to be expected after whatever hard surface he had introduced his skull to the first time. The knot in his chest was still there, winding itself tighter with every breath. Beneath all of that, beneath every pain vying for his attention, his magic was unsettled, stronger than he remembered it being even as it lay in latent disquiet; A calm lake awaiting the pebble that would shatter its serene face .

That pebble, as it turned out, was his first glimpse at the damage that had been done to him.

He was missing pieces.

He was missing pieces of himself.

What had been a strange sense of displacement was now a crystal clear realisation that he was not whole, dark shadows overtaking his spirit the way a troll’s flesh turned to stone in sunlight. He bolted upright in a surge of pure panic, fingers finding and grasping a vicelike hold of his master’s arms. His chest was hurting again, his lungs fighting for air as panic overtook him. Merlin’s hands closed about his forearms in a mirror of his own position, his master’s lips moving without sound.

The world faded out to a grey vista. For a dreadful few moments, that was all he could see. Sounds began to trickle back in first, his name being repeated over and over in forcefully calm tones that didn’t quite drown out the awful, wheezing noise that was his breathing. Colours followed, blurry and indistinct, slowly gaining clarity until he could look into Merlin’s eyes and see the vestiges of his own panic lingering there.

“That’s better,” Merlin spoke the moment Douxie made eye contact. “You need to stay calm.”

“Calm?” He shook his head, trembling, his magic sparking at his fingertips, seeking an enemy that didn’t exist. “I’m... there’s... What’s wrong with me?”

It came out as a cracked whisper. Merlin surprised him with the vehemence of his response. “Nothing is wrong with you,” he asserted firmly. “Someone did this, but there is no need to panic just yet. I am confident I can find a way to fix it.”

“What if you can’t?” He had to ask, even though he didn’t want to. “What if you can’t fix it? I’m...” Broken. He was broken. Cracked and incomplete. He couldn’t stop shaking; It was a wonder Merlin’s armour wasn’t rattling beneath his grip.

“Then we will find someone who can.” Merlin said it so matter-of-factly it was almost comforting. Archie’s determined rubbing against his side was more so, and he peeled his clenched fingers away from Merlin’s arms to attach them to Archie instead as the Master Wizard continued, “Are you in any pain?”

He answered automatically, “My chest hurts.”

Merlin frowned, bringing his glowing hand to hover over the affected area. Douxie caught himself shying away from the motion on instinct, his breath catching in his throat.

“I mean, it’s fine! I’m fine, no need to—”

“Hisirdoux.”

He cringed, though a strange corner of his mind railed against the reaction. Maybe his chest wasn’t the problem at all; It felt like his skull was trying to split in two.

“He knows what he’s doing, Douxie,”’Archie offered his own encouragement. “Probably.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Archibald.”

“You did set him off... twice.”

“That was the work of whatever nefarious hand caused this, not my doing.”

“I’m fairly certain your bumbling didn’t help.”

“Bumbling? You ungrateful—!”

Laughter bubbled up his throat like scalding acid and emerged as another cracked sob. The conversation cut off abruptly as he tried to muffle the sound behind his hand, before deciding he was too tired, sore, and confused to pretend he wasn’t terrified out of his wits right now. Archie immediately pressed himself closer, purring in that impossibly loud way he did when he was trying to drown out his familiar’s upset. Merlin was a lot slower, sitting frozen, then stiffly slipping an arm about his apprentice’s shoulders.

It wasn’t enough, and Douxie risked rejection to turn and tuck himself closer against his mentor’s side, ignoring the hard edges of the wizard’s armour as he clutched Archie in his arms. Merlin exhaled softly, then brought his other hand up to pat Douxie awkwardly between the shoulder blades.

The warmth of his magic withdrew with the physical touch.

Douxie was still cold.

Headcanon A/N: I am a subscriber to the belief that Douxie's hair colour is due to his magic, particularly as certain scenes where the light shines off the darker parts there is a blue tint to what otherwise appears to be black. (Fanfiction research, everyone. XD)

[willel]

Random Season 4 Wishes

Here is a random list of things I want to see in season 4 in no particular order. Some of these are more like predictions than wishes, but at this point, any prediction made is just a wish. 

A break from all out romance. The romance wasn’t really handled all that great last season. Other than the looming monster danger, it was the forefront of season 3. I would like a return to a season 1/season 2 formula where while there is still romance, it is never the focus. Stranger Things excels with subtle tender moments and meaningful physical contact. 

Character growth over character drama. Another issue season 3 had is too much conflict between character. Hardly any of it really contributed to character growth. The only character growth to be seen is Mike being a little less clingy and El being a little more independent. Nothing else noticeably changed, not on screen. Conflict is important... but it should be pushing our character forward, not locking them in place. 

Recapture the importance of family. Our cast has been divided in two. The Byers + El are somewhere new while the others stayed behind in Hawkins. This leaves an excellent opportunity to revisit old threads long forgotten. I would love to see Nancy and Mike actually interacting. Not just one conversation or exchanging a glance. Full out brother and sister duo. I feel similarly about Jonathan with his own family. I would like to see a plot where all the Byers + El are in it together. 

Return of Kali. Kali, I feel, is a very important piece of El. While season 3 would have us forget her influence of El, I hope next season doesn’t completely ignore her presence. It would be interesting if Kali’s prediction comes true, that no matter where she hides or who she’s with, “they” will never let her live in peace or have a normal life. Not because I want harm to come to El, but because I don’t for a second believe the government is done with her or the other experimented children.

Proper strategist Michael Wheeler and proper action man Lucas Sinclair. I would like to see the return of the strategist Mike who always seems to have a plan and can get everyone on the same page. In season 3, he was fumbling around distracted. I feel normally, Mike would have set a trap for the Mind Flayer or would’ve formulated a proper plan to escape the mall or the cabin. In Lucas’s case, they did ok with him in season 3 actually, but it was really out of character for him to freeze up while El was being choked out. I want to see a more forward athletic Lucas. 

Will to make new friends. In season 3, we saw at least 2 of the 4 boys interests changing drastically and the other was all too eager to go off and hang around new people. Given Will’s situation (new town, new house, new school, distant old friends), I’d like to see Will gain some new friendships. That’s not to say he’d drop the old ones. They’re the OG after all. But, before all the drama of next season picks up, it would be nice to see Will being happy and acknowledged by new friends.

US Government becoming a threat again. Personally, I did not enjoy the Russian plot. Everything seemed like a joke. When the US government were the bad guys, everything felt more dangerous and dire. You never knew who was listening. Who was watching. What would happen if they found El or if they would hurt the boys and their families. Next season, I feel they could make the Russians feel like as much of a threat as the US government if both governments are clashing and in a race to the bottom. By that, I mean the government should become a major foe again racing against the Russian government to do bad things. Open a gate? Control a demogorgon? Allow the Mind Flayer in again? Both these governments should screw up equally. 

A slow return of El’s powers. I want El to get her powers back, but I want it to be a slow daunting process. It’s like she starts back at square one. She can move and pick up small things, but even that has taken her months. She’s stuck between being seemingly normal with no powers, but also missing the power she once had. 

Casual power training. As we know, Will is really into comics. El might be too since Max introduced her to them. A classic of comics is the super hero training to regain their strength or to become stronger. It would be really interesting if Will contributed to El slowly regaining her powers by setting up obstacles and challenges just for her. Maybe on the weekends, he designs a building and she must use wooden blocks/legos to make it with her powers. Or, build a house of cards. A game of darts using powers only. A game of catch. (I was going to say Jenga, but it looks like that didn’t get released in the US until 1987) Anything Will can creatively come up with that he thinks will help her regain her strength. (whether it does or not is up for debate) It’s mostly casual fun. Some bonding opportunities. Who doesn’t enjoy training the hero/super hero? (basically, it’s roleplay) 

Will’s power expanded. I am writing a proper theory page on Will’s/the Byers’s powers, but let me explain exactly what I mean here. It’s clear Will has powers, but they severely limited them in season 3. Examples:

Instead of only sensing the Mind Flayer when it’s nearby, he should be able to close his eyes, concentrate, and locate the center of activity

Will should have great insight into the Mind Flayer’s intentions even if it’s just honest guesses on what the Mind Flayer wants and what he’s trying to do (like in season 2)

Will’s danger senses should happen immediately, not delayed like we saw in the hospital or in the mall. He should be able to tell the Mind Flayer is coming for them from miles away or even across dimensions.

Will should retain true sight, the ability to see into the Upside Down. A dangerous ability to be sure, but can be useful if we’re going to have gates popping in and out around the world like what’s been implied.

Karen possibly discovering the truth. Honestly, Season 1 Karen is such a good mom. And in season 3, that discussion with Nancy was superb and beautiful. I would love for Karen to learn a little more what her two eldest kids have been up to. If not that, I’d like for her to at least give more guidance to her kids. I’d like for Nancy and Mike to vaguely come to her for advice and she’d grant it, no questions asked. (ok, Karen used to be very nosy so maybe she does ask questions, but takes a step back and respects their privacy)

Joyce to be believed right away. I honestly do not understand why people doubt Joyce, you know? She’s been right 3 years in a row now (Nancy too). I swear if anyone questions her intuition next season, she should give them her classic Joyce sneer until they realize how silly they’re being. In order of “alarm bells”, I think it will go like Will >> El >> Joyce >> Jonathan in quick succession. All 4 family members should be very sensitive to weird things as this point. 

Jonathan gets a plot. I want to see things from Jonathan’s perspective again. After season 1, we’ve barely gotten anything. I want to see Jonathan putting forth plans or leading the charge, at least for a little while. There is a great opportunity for this next season since he’s the man of the house about to graduate from high school if he hasn’t already. (*sobs remembering Will is taller than him now, officially). Heck, if we want to switch around the order of “alarm bells”, maybe Jonathan becomes alert of something wrong before Joyce does this time. 

Less product placement. In season 1/season 2, there was product placement, but that was because they were really setting the scene. It was 1983. This is what products used to be like. This is what was popular at the time. But season 3? They cranked that dial up 2000% when they didn’t need to. It really made it feel less serious and set in reality. Don’t dare use Lucas to spit out a damned Coke ad ever again. 

Genuine friendship moments. I’ve mentioned this earlier, but with less romantic drama and stuff, I’d like to see genuine friendships return. The El and Max friendship was great and all, but it’s really a shame it was so heavily focused on Mike. I hope in the future, these two girls are able to share screentime without the boys being mentioned or thought about. Same with the guys, it would be nice if they could hang out like before without splitting off into pairs or focusing entirely on their romantic lives. They don’t really feel like a friend group anymore, just a group of double dates (hence why I’d like for Will to make friends outside the original group.)

Proper use of the supernatural. Season 3 was weak when it came to the Mind Flesher imo. They had this whole idea of the Flayed who seemed to be totally normal (and sweaty) just walking around town living their lives until a flip was switched. Whyyyyy in the world weren’t they used to try to get at our cast? The only time they did it was in the hospital, but we saw dozens and dozens of people who could’ve served the same purpose except it could happen anywhere. Maybe there were other ‘patients’ in the waiting room that also turned on the kids that they had to fight off? Maybe strange people came to all their houses trying to find them or break in? They could’ve gone full creepy like season 1/2 but they didn’t. I’d like to see them fully use the horror aspects next season. 

That’s what I got off the top of my head. 

[jflashandclash]

Tales from Mount Othrys

Alabaster: The Delicate Dance of Chance II

 Author’s note: Are you ready for fluff??? ALL THE FLUFF?! And some angst—BUT MOSTLY FLUFF!?

              Alabaster didn’t remember much about getting off the stage. He did remember shaking so violently that he feared missing a step on the side stairs. When the crowd swarmed them, he was vaguely aware of Pax warding them off and navigating them through the mass of people.

           Axel made some announcement about taking a girl for the first dance and snatched the hand of Charlie—their five year old mascot—who giggled with glee. This caused an uproar—both that Axel was dancing and that he’d picked Charlie as his first partner. Alabaster could practically hear Lucille’s future squeals about how cute it was.

           But, that’s all he could recollect. There was a blank spot, where Alabaster must have shut down from the humiliation and horror of being on stage without any warning. Coherence came when Pax shoved Alabaster to the punch table.

           With a few comments that Alabaster didn’t hear, Pax diverted the remaining admirers. Several monsters and campers were still glancing their way, and a few of his siblings waved at him enthusiastically. But, this was manageable. This was distant.

           Pax shoved a plastic cup of punch into Alabaster’s trembling hand. His touch lingered over Alabaster’s fingers for a moment, likely noticing the quiver. Pax went on his tiptoes to whisper in Alabaster’s ear, as quiet as he could while still being heard over the music. “Your Mist show was amazing.”

           Alabaster jerked back.

           He wanted to hit Pax. Though, he knew it was misdirected anger. Who he should be hitting was Matthias or Jack, who likely planned the grand entrance on stage. Or—

           The music increased in volume, encouraging shouts of delirium. Monsters and campers tangled on the dance floor. Alabaster had never been to a school dance, but this looked like the nightmare version of what he assumed one would be. They were in a gymnasium with a stage on one end. Tables were scattered along the walls for food, drink and loitering. The back had interactive games, like Pin the Sword in the Demigod: Camp Half-Blood Edition. The center was reserved for dancing.

           And, in the middle of that dance floor was Axel Pax, bowing to a thrilled, giggling five-year-old. He handed Charlie off to Chris (likely with strict instructions to escort her off the dance floor, least she be crushed by mingling Cyclopes). Then he turned a smile to Lucille. With the smooth demeanor of a vampiric count, he transferred into the next dance. No one was going to say no to the attractive, typically reserved, stoic and heroic character.

           The reserved, stoic and heroic character that caused that nonsense on stage. While Alabaster wouldn’t have been up there if it wasn’t for Jack or Matthias, Axel had forced him into panicked improvisation and showmanship.

           “I must disgrace Axel Pax,” he growled.

           Pax startled. Over the edge of his plastic cup, he said, “I’m not sure what maniacal soliloquy you had internally, but the rest of the audience is still confused.”

           Alabaster snorted. “I’m going to punish your brother. Maybe I can tell Lucille to spread the word that he’s looking for a male partner.”

           Pax laughed. He set his cup back on the table and drummed his fingers beside it. “Oh, dancing with boys won’t bother him.”

           Axel paused twirling Lucille in front of her girlfriend, Echidna. Echidna wasn’t the daughter of Summanus’ (the god of nocturnal thunder’s) real name, but Pax’s nickname caught because of her prickly personality. Despite this, when Axel offered, and Lucille shoved Echidna towards him, she begrudgingly accepted the dance. She shot a quick glance at Charlie. This was incredible progress—she couldn’t get within ten feet of men a year ago or be separated from Charlie for more than a few seconds.

           Alabaster tore his eyes from Axel and examined Pax skeptically. From what he’d seen, Axel had all the traits, and the cultural background, to be homophobic.

           The thirteen-year-old shrugged. “This isn’t exactly a no dancing with people wearing the same underwear kinda place.”

           A preliminary glance around proved there were girls dancing with girls and boys dancing with boys. It was with such commonality that the gesture seemed to mean nothing about their inclination. Alabaster wasn’t sure how that worked here, since that would have been a social taboo in his Cotillion classes.

           Pax’s smile became distant and sad as he watched Axel save Echinda from tripping all over herself. Pax leaned against the drink table. “Besides, between the circus and our sister, he had to learn not to care. She was a crossdresser and made sure we were comfortable with all sorts of people.”

           Opening up twice in one night, Alabaster mused. They hardly spoke of their siblings, other than that Pax missed them. Their near death experience must have made Pax feel more relaxed around Alabaster. The younger boy seemed to have something on his mind recently. Alabaster often caught Pax zoning out in the laboratory, staring at Alabaster’s sleeve or spell book. Alabaster had wondered if it was for a prank.

           The smile on Pax’s lips quirked into a smirk. His eyes focused back on the present. “Axel doesn’t favor dancing with boys though, unlike me,” he said, giving Alabaster a wink.

           Alabaster snorted. “Stop messing around.”

           Pax looked away and popped his cheeks. He straightened his posture, released the table, and turned towards Alabaster. “I want to have fun at this party. Your whole vengeance on my brother for ambiguous reasons—”

           “Humiliating me—”

           “--that’s villainy and great and stuff, but I don’t want you on it all night. You’ve got his weakest link right here.” Pax pointed both his thumbs at himself. “But I’m not going to help you brainstorm ideas unless you really try to have fun tonight. Now let’s go stuff our faces with Nachos and show Morpheus how to really dance.”

           Alabaster stared at him. “We have two different definitions of ‘fun.’ The most probable outcome to incur enjoyment is seeking vengeance.”

           Pax pouted. He glanced down the refreshments table. “You’re my babysitter. I going to make a ��bee line to the first nut-based desert I see and shove it into my mouth if we don’t go play on Matthias’ Wii , and it’ll be your fault.”

           “I won’t save you from anaphylactic shock if you do that,” Alabaster said. He frowned. Pax would be integral to bringing Axel down. And they were stuck here for at least another hour-and-a-half.

           “What’s the best game on Matthias’ Wii ?” Alabaster asked.

             ***

             Alabaster wanted to complain about Mario Party’s reliance on a random number generator and how it devalued the skill level of the player, but that would require him to admit he relied on that random number generator to win. When playing against actual gamers like Matthias and Chris, he knew there would be little hope in him winning in something like Super Smash or Tekken.

           Out of the games they played, his favorite was poker. All magic was legal. He won Pax ten Reese’s Sticks before Prometheus came over and threatened his reigning championship. Alabaster’s “pallor tricks” didn’t seem to work as well on the Titan and Prometheus’s bluffing skills were godly. Well, titanly.

           Pax decided Prometheus’s impending win meant he needed to eat all of his candy at once, something Alabaster suspected he’d regret in about ten minutes.

           Once the Cyclops bouncer wrestled the last six Reese’s Sticks from Pax, he hopped to Alabaster’s side. His brown and hazel eyes twinkled while he rubbed the chocolate and peanut butter off his chin.

           Alabaster didn’t realize he’d been smirking with each his wins. Between Pax’s excitement and cheering and Alabaster’s strategizing, he’d forgotten where they were.

           Pax snagged Alabaster’s sleeve. “Come on!” he cried before Prometheus could gloat. The tuxedo-wearing Titan spread his long, thin fingers over the cards as Pax dragged Alabaster away from the table.

           Once they stumbled from the game sector, Pax stopped short. He gave Alabaster a huge grin, pulling up his shirt to reveal two Reese’s Sticks hidden along his beltline.

           Alabaster snorted. “I’m surprised you didn’t steal more.”

           Pax winked and dropped his shirt. “We could go back for round two later. For now…” He took a few steps further onto the dance floor, tugging Alabaster’s sleeve again.

           Alabaster’s tranquility shattered. He stared at Pax, listening to the thud of the subwoofer and watching the mass of bodies moving behind the Belizean boy.

           Alabaster hadn’t realized it, and he would never admit to it, but he’d been having fun. At the thought of merging into that flowing blob of people, monsters, sweat, and social anxiety, fun evaporated. Cold sweat formed on his brow.

           “No,” he said, yanking his arm back from Pax.

           The younger boy’s pout returned. “I’m going to make you a shirt that says that.”[1]

           They stood there, others swirling around them. Someone bumped their shoulders while running by, shouting, “Don’t be lame and have no shame! Warlock, creep out of your lair, dance, and have fun!”

           His face went hot with humiliation. When Alabaster raised his wrist to check the time, he found his fist clenched. An hour had passed while they were playing games. Had the passerbyer’s mockery not bothered him so much, he might have marveled over how fast the first hour went. He assumed it would be agonizing.

           But, he could tell the next hour would be much worse. He thought about his laboratory and how much he could get done while everyone else was out. After the Roman attack, everyone should have been working to move and restore the building, not throwing a party “in their honor.”

           “This is just a thinly veiled excuse for everyone to feel good about acting like idiots,” Alabaster said. “And a waste of time.”

           Alabaster couldn’t remember how Pax got him to play along with this stupid party. Then, it came back: Axel forcing him into showmanship. The humiliation turned to anger. He didn’t need the younger Pax brother to concoct something against Axel. “I’m heading back to camp,” Alabaster said.

           He turned to leave. Pax frantically grabbed his arm. “Wait!” Pax shouted. “Wait—we were having—you’re my babysitter!  I’ll choke on tree nuts and get kidnapped by bad guys if you’re not around!”

           Considering Pax’s ward, Jack, was a schizophrenic with a history of attacking his family, Alabaster thought his concept of “bad guys” was a bit skewed.

           Alabaster scowled. “Ajax, you’re thirteen. You’re too old for a babysitter. Grow up.”  

           Pax’s eyes widened. The rims reddened. He blinked rapidly and looked away. “We don’t have to dance,” he whispered.

           Alabaster yanked his arm back again. “This isn’t dancing. This isn’t music. This is a group of unskilled buskers following a formula to produce ‘musical’ garbage because people don’t know how to express their hormones without it.”

           Shock wove their mouths shut.

           Musical garbage.

           Someone else had said that around Alabaster. He remembered sitting in the back of the family’s Mercedes Bends, visiting his father in the hospital.  The chauffer cheerfully turned on music for them. His grandfather fired the chauffer, saying what Alabaster had said: that this type of music was a cheap replica of what real musicians could create.

           Just like his grandfather thought Alabaster’s magic was a cheap replica of science that couldn’t save his father.

           Alabaster couldn’t believe he’d quoted that horrible man verbatim.

           At the “buskers” comment, Pax flinched. Although they’d never told Alabaster directly, Alabaster had guessed that Axel and Pax busked, or illegally street preformed, to get by before Camp Othrys. And Alabaster just used it as an insult.

           “Ajax,” Alabaster unfroze his tongue, “I’m sorr—”

           Pax turned and bolted into the mass of dancers, towards the stage. A couple nearby exchanged a confused glance at his passing and looked over at Alabaster.

           “Ajax!” Alabaster called. Although every cell in his nervous system wanted to reel backwards, he shoved past the couple to go after his friend.

           After taking ten steps forward, Alabaster realized that finding Pax would be impossible. There were too many people, too much movement, and Pax was too small and conniving. Considering how many monsters and demigods were over six feet tall, the five-foot-nothing demigod could vanish.

           This was irrational. Alabaster shouldn’t worry. Pax was in a safe environment, surrounded by friends, and didn’t actually need a babysitter. They would meet back up later, after both of them had time to let off some steam, and Alabaster could explain that he didn’t mean what he said and that Alabaster had only said those words because he… because he…

           Is so incompetent at relaxing, I couldn’t rationally explain my anxiety before snapping.

           Alabaster didn’t want to wait to check up on Pax. He despised the thought of making someone feel the way his grandfather used to make him feel. Worse for Pax: what if his and Axel’s father didn’t approve of their street performance? Alabaster didn’t know what nerves he’d struck, and not knowing meant he couldn’t mentally prepare for what damage he’d done.

           There were too many people, too close. The music had grown louder as Alabaster made his way towards the stage. The subwoofer rattled him internally. Alabaster felt clammy. With all the laughter and joy whirling around him, he felt isolated and sick. Especially with the stares of confusion at his rushed passing.

           A sense of hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him when the music quieted.

           With the weirdest transition he’d ever heard, the thud of electronic wound down, like the music itself was dying. The DJ, a dark-haired Titaness wearing a modernized toga-dress, cleared her throat in the echo of the mic. The Eldest muse—Mnemosyne’s voice was silky. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Monsters and Ghouls, we have our first good request of the night!”

           Pax withdrew from the raised DJ booth and hopped back to the floor, only three yards away.

           After the chime of bells, the calming sound of a stringed orchestra flooded the speakers, soon accompanied by a wind instrument—probably a flute.  

           Several demigods groaned. One or two whined. Alabaster was horrified at what Pax had done to the rest of the party’s occupants and whether or not Mnemosyne had been mocking him.

           Then, all the monsters cheered.

           “I love the oldies!” Dr. Thorn, their local manticore, exclaimed. He ejected two spikes into the air in celebration, grabbed a Scythian dracaena, and began the elegant twirl of the waltz. Alabaster didn’t want to know where those spikes would land.[2]

           Alabaster would hardly call Tchaikovsky an “oldie” but he marveled that these monsters were eternal and their concept of time differed from their own.

           While several half-bloods exited the dance floor, a flood of monsters entered. Jack dragged a rather inebriated-looking Luke out to spin with him. Chris and Matthias hopped by, paused, grabbed hold of each other with mock-serious expresses on their faces, and began a goofy, sloppy shamble.[3] Prometheus ruffled Pax’s hair and said, “Good choice,” before bowing to Mnemosyne.

           Their DJ grinned, set her headphones to the side of the sound table, and hopped down from the booth.

            In an empty space of floor, Lucille giggled. She kicked off her high heels, hopped up to her toes, and began to dance point, her flowy skirt mimicking the motions of a ballerina’s tutu.

           Near the food tables, where most of the confused demigods had gone to stand, Axel bowed to Mercedes, offering their Spymaster his hand. Mercedes tucked her embroidered hijab tighter against her chin. She gave Axel a coy smile and flicked him off with her other hand.

           Axel must have just finished dancing with Lou Ellen. She stood beside Mercedes, still bright red in the face from the dance. Alabaster was already annoyed with the inevitable week of Lou Ellen’s squealing. She glanced at Mercedes, glared at the older girl—from jealousy or aghast at Mercedes’ refusal, Alabaster couldn’t care to tell—and shoved her forward, hard.

           Mercedes stumbled forward into Axel’s arms, adding a second forced dance to Axel’s count for the night.

           With all the commotion around them, Alabaster approached Pax. He paused a foot away from him. “Why’d you pick this song?” he asked.

           Pax rubbed his face against his forearm, sniffling back the last of his choked tears. “You—you play it a lot when you think other people aren’t around.”

           Alabaster unclenched his fist. “It was my grandmother’s favorite scene from Swan Lake.” One of his favorite memories: when she was alive, she would hum along as she stained glass in the piano room. His grandfather hated that she used the room like that, but she claimed it had the best lighting.

           “If you were going to leave, I wanted to make sure you at least liked the last song playing before you left,” Pax said. He looked away, hugging himself.

           All the tension eased out of Alabaster. He sighed and wasn’t sure if he was more relieved that Pax had stopped crying or annoyed that Pax had beat him—Alabaster couldn’t leave with such a considerate act.

           “How many people know how to waltz here, you think? That aren’t monsters, I mean. It might be hard to find a partner,” Alabaster said.

           Pax took a step closer. He puffed up his cheeks, popped them, then quietly said, “I know how to waltz.” He offered a trembling hand out, palm down in the female partner position, to Alabaster.

           Alabaster stared. Slowly, he glanced to where Jack and Luke were dancing and Chris and Matthias were… he refused to call that a dance, but awkwardly shambling. It wouldn’t be too weird, right? Everyone knew Luke was a ladies’ man, and Jack and Flynn were a “thing,” and Chris and Matthias were just joking…

            And Lucille, after all, was doing a ballet pas seul with a cheering circle around her like she was break dancing.

           Alabaster exhaled and took Pax’s hand. He slipped his other hand under Pax’s arm, and positioned it on Pax’s shoulder blade. Pax violently shook as he lowered his free arm atop Alabaster’s. Pax was the perfect height for this, being a foot shorter than Alabaster.

           That busker comment must have stung Pax worse than Alabaster thought. To have him shaking like this? He frowned, taking a slow step forward with his left foot. He expected Pax to stumble and mix up his footing. Instead, Pax flawlessly stepped back with his right foot.

           They started with a basic box step. He wasn’t sure how much Pax would remember from his Cotillion classes or how easily Pax would be able to reverse the footwork to follow instead of lead. When Alabaster added in a rotation to their box step, and then lifted his elbow and their hands to properly shape their posture, Pax continued perfectly. When Alabaster began to go up on his toes for the “2 and 3” count of the waltz, then down onto his heels for the “1,” to give the rise and fall effect of the dance, Pax mirrored the footwork. By the time Alabaster added in the swing and sway to make the dance have a rolling effect—raising his rib cage when they went to the side, or tilting his body when they went forward or back—his curiosity had peaked.

           “You know how to follow really well,” Alabaster observed.

           The fluid and repetitive movement of the dance calmed Alabaster. This was a familiar environment. The only unusual part was dancing with a boy. Though… he supposed he’d danced with his male instructor when he was learning.

           Pax had stopped shaking. Now that they were in a rhythm, Alabaster could glance down to see if Pax still had tears in his eyes.

           The younger boy was staring at Alabaster’s collar—the only part of posture he wasn’t doing correctly. His cheeks were flushed with the movement and, likely, his prior tantrum. A little grin touched his lips at Alabaster’s comment. “Thanks. You’re really good at leading.”            Alabaster raised an eyebrow at him. He’d been expecting some stupid, witty retort.

           Pax glanced up. His blush deepened and his eyes shot back down to Alabaster’s collar. “Oh! Um—Lapis and I—my sister—we used to switch places on our Cotillion teacher. Axel, Hiro, and Kouta would play along, altering our names and pronouns to fit according to the day. The instructor never knew if which one of us was a guy or a girl, and she was too scared of getting in trouble for mixing it up to ask Dad. As long as we learned both parts, she didn’t care.”

           That sounded exactly like something the Pax brothers would do.

           Examining Pax’s facial structure, Alabaster could see how the instructor could mistake Pax for a girl. He had all the features to make a convincing crossdresser: with Pax’s wild, raven hair spilling all over his shoulders, his rounded face, button nose, wide eyes, squishy cheeks, and full lips. He was a little too muscular to pass for the average woman, but Alabaster had seen some ripped female demigods and wouldn’t be shocked if Pax’s sister—Lapis?—were similar.

           With the baggy, punk-style jacket he wore, Alabaster could easily imagine Pax as some flat-chested girl half-drowned in her friend’s borrowed clothing.

           And with the thought, Alabaster felt his chest constrict. For some reason, he felt horrendously uncomfortable.

           Alabaster spun Pax out for an underarm turn.

           Nothing would change if Pax were a girl. Then, she would just be Axel’s annoying little sister, instead of an annoying little brother—one that followed Alabaster around the laboratory, cheered when he succeeded in one of his experiments, made him hand-crafted presents, and was always ready with a goofy, lame joke to try to make him laugh.

           Why couldn’t Alabaster shake the idea that something would be different?

           The song would come to an end soon. Alabaster recognized the crescendo. He hadn’t realized until then that they’d danced through two songs—now it was the Waltz of the Snowflakes. Mnemosyne must have a Tchaikovsky Waltz playlist.

           Although the last two songs had been relaxing, Alabaster was eager for the end. Something felt off and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t the same anxiety as before. No, he’d almost forgotten about the others—

           Alabaster glanced around, finding Jack had stopped dancing to watch them.

           Alabaster released Pax’s hand and took a step back half-a-second sooner than he should have according to the music. Pax stumbled, not ready to stop following.

           That goofy smile on Pax’s face widened. “It’s okay. I also get distracted thinking about life, the universe, and everything, and forget how to end a dance.”

           “Nice song choice, Ajax,” someone said beside them.

           Alabaster jumped, having forgotten how many people were around them.

           Mnemosyne climbed back into her DJ booth. The throb of electronic and modern pop thudded back into the gym. Bored demigods cheered. Dancing monsters grumbled.  

           Axel stood near them, one hand still on Mercedes’ shoulder blade. Although he’d lowered their hands from the dance, his other hand still held hers. He continued talking to Pax, giving Mercedes a half-smirk that would have made half the girls in the gym faint. “You helped me find the best dance partner in Camp Othrys,” he said.

           Mercedes did not look amused. Her expression was as deadpan as ever. A lock of curly black hair had escaped the corner of her embroidered fabric. He had to wonder if Lucille forced her into some makeup. Mercedes typically wore the simplest, plainest, and most practical clothing she could, without make up or hair accessories other than her veil.

           “Pax One,” she said to the older of the two, “you found a temporary victim of circumstance that is now going to ruin Matthias’ life in Tekken. If you’ll excuse me.” She bowed her head, as though about to vanish into shadow after a spy mission. For a split second, he thought she frowned at Pax.

           “Uh-hu,” Axel said. As soon as she removed her hands, he took a step after her. “If I win a round of Tekken against you, I win another dance.”

           Pax stared at his older brother. “Axel, you’re awesome and everything, but you’re going to get obliterated.”

           Mercedes’ head didn’t move as her eyes shifted between the two brothers. “Listen to Pax Two. He is wise… unless you’re willing to gamble information on this game.”

           The offer sounded like a threat.

           Alabaster saw a minor opportunity unfolding.

           “If you’re going to do that, you should keep Tran around,” Alabaster suggested, smirking at Axel. “Least someone consider lying.”[4]

           Mercedes let a tiny smile slip. “The child of Aletheia, Goddess of Truth. Thanks, Torrington.” She nodded her appreciation. “Are you feeling lucky, Pax One?”

           Axel shot Alabaster a glare.

           At least he’d successfully started his revenge on the older Mayan.

           Pax tugged on Alabaster’s sleeve. “We can worry about Axel’s downfall later. Let’s get some punch and go for a walk!”

           “My downfall--?”

           “Come on!”

 ***

In two weeks (hopefully) are you ready for MORE FLUFF!?! …. And angst. AND MORE FL—oh, oh, next week is more on the angst side. *ehem* I see.

I hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you for reading :D

***

Footnotes:

[1] And thus, Grumpy Cat was born.

[2] Technically, our spiky friend should be dead by now, but I didn’t know that when I originally wrote this scene and I enjoy having random spikes reigning on this parade.

Also, this was written to Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake Suite, Op. 20a, TH 219: Act 1: Waltz.

[3] Okay, I’ll finally admit it, my representation of Chris and Matthias’s whole character are based off family members. <3 you guys.

[4] Call out to my home boy, VCRx.

[spring-emerald]

monogram (2/4)

Part 1 here. 

Please take note of the updated chapter count. :)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi / Moniwa Kaname

-----

5 years ago

His phone has been ringing, interspersed with occasional beeping for the better half of the day, only greedily accumulating the messages and calls but never answering, never returning it. It pains Moniwa to keep ignoring it, but he knows who’s on the other side of the line and he can’t talk to Ushijima yet. He doesn’t think he can take it, not when Moniwa is still figuratively bleeding from the wound Ushijima inadvertently caused with his blunt statement that morning.

He’s going to ask Moniwa if he’s alright, worried about him and Moniwa can’t trust himself that he won’t break down as he attempt to lie, so he doesn’t risk it. Sniffing, he takes his pillow and squeezes it over his head, coverring his ears to muffle the sound of his phone, while quietly willing it to stop. He doesn’t know how long he stayed like that, until eventually, it does.

He breathes easier then, when it stays quiet, and he begins to gain clarity. It’s not Ushijima’s fault, Moniwa reasons. He doesn’t know.

Honestly, Moniwa isn’t completely sure either that Ushijima really is his soul mate. It could be anyone that has the initials W and U -the completely noticeable black and bold letters spanning whole of his palms. They need to confirm it directly. They need to touch hands, touch marks, and if it burns, then it’s all the sign they need.

But they can’t do that, can they? He can’t ask Ushijima now.

Moniwa laughs wetly, leaving his pillow refuge to sit upright in his bed. Perhaps he’s being foolish. They didn’t even reveal the initials of Ushijima’s soul mate, so who’s to say he has Moniwa’s initials? He probably has a different set of initials after all. So really, it’s pointless to get hurt over something unsure. It’s foolish and stupid and unbecoming and…

And it hurts, his heart smarts, constricting in his chest, blurry eyes looking down on the damned initials on his hands, as fresh tears fall on it. He doesn’t need any physical confirmation. He knows, in an inexplicable way that it’s Ushijima. Even before the marks, he’s already been drawn to Ushijima, attracted to Ushijima, wished with all his being that it’s Ushijima.

Strong, stubborn Ushijima, who he admires and wholeheartedly supports, who would reach greater heights and gain greater achievements.

Simple, steadfast Ushijima, who deserves the best, who doesn’t need -doesn’t want a soul mate.

Where do unwanted soul mates go? Moniwa wonders before he comes to a decision.

-----

Ushijima flops down on his bed, holding his phone above him, thumb hesitantly hovering over the call button, eyebrows stitched together in a worried frown. He wants to call Moniwa again, maybe he’ll answer this time and make sure he’s alright. But it’s also already late and he’d hate to disturb him if he’s already sleeping.

In the end he exits his contacts, promptly locks his phone and puts it on the bedside table with a sigh.

Today had been eventful, to say the least. And he’d been looking forward to tell Moniwa about it –the announcement, his soul mark, the way the assistant coach gently admonished him after the press conference about saying what he said about it. He still doesn’t think that it’s big of a deal, though he’d realized that he may have been a bit cruel and completely careless with his words.

It would’ve been nice to talk to Moniwa about it, and maybe he can help him make sense of the sudden, unexplainable loss he is feeling.

-----

Present Time

Moniwa ran on autopilot and fixed the car as robotically and efficiently as possible, still reeling over the unexpected reunion. He doesn’t remember the things he’d said while tinkering with the machinery, and has vague recollection of the stiff bow and curt goodbye he’d given Ushijima and his kind driver. He doesn’t know how he made it back to the shop, considering the condition he’d been in, and just realizes with a jolt that he’s already there.

He quickly hides himself between the cars parked in the shop’s garage to give himself a sliver of privacy to process what just happened.

He’d fantasized how he’d wanted their reunion to happen, way too many times over the last couple of years. In different scenarios too, mostly serendipitous ones like a chance encounter in a café or bumping to each other while doing their morning run. Some have Moniwa seek him out, purposefully meets him like watching an exhibition game and approaching him after to ask for an autograph, or reach out to him through their disrupted but not forgotten contact, and many more other scenarios, differing in minute details, but all having a common denominator of Moniwa being in a point of his life where he’s finally prepared to meet Ushijima again.

And not the bumbling reality of him being in his dirty jumpsuit, smelling of grease and smoke and sweat; not him shutting down completely in panic and unable to make even a pathetic attempt at small talk. And being not (yet) the best version of himself that he can present to Ushijima, one that he can hopefully consider as a soulmate.

Moniwa takes a deep breath and clenches his gloved hands into a tight fist repeatedly, a thing that he does to ground himself. It’s alright. It’s only once. It’s not like he’s going to see and meet Ushijima again in the near future that soon, because he’s probably busy, like Moniwa is. Busier perhaps, because he’s a pro-athlete now and his schedule is possibly packed full of training and practices and other things that a person of his caliber does.

What happened earlier was sudden and unexpected, but it’s going to be the only time. With this thought, Moniwa calms himself enough to spend the rest of his work time and the remainder of his day in relative ease.

---

So… it seems like he can’t stop seeing Ushijima everywhere.

It’s like his chance encounter scenarios are being brought to life, his wildest fantasies coming true but in the worst possible way and in the form of a poorly written sketch. Only, it consists of him turning tail as soon as he sees the back of Ushijima’s head checking the fresh produce of his go-to fruit vendor, or hiding behind walls and in-between dark alleys when he catches glimpse of Ushijima coming from the other direction while he’s jogging.

What takes the cake though, is that Ushijima visited the shop where he works at. He found the address, went there and looked for him.

He’s coming back from his break and spies a familiar back and quickly ducks behind a nearby dumpster. He glares and curses softly at the sky, at the gods, at the fates or whoever, whatever was responsible for this, crinkling his nose at the smell but willfully ignores it as he finds himself hiding from Ushijima, again.

What is he doing here? How did he find he even find this place? Moniwa recalls handing a card to the old driver and curses his autopilot self for that. Okay, so that explains how Ushijima found out about this place.

Now, the million yen question is why is he here?

He jumps when his phone vibrated and he fishes it out from one of his jumpsuit pockets and takes the call from one of his co-workers.

“Oi, Moniwa-kun,” Sakae-san greets in a gruff voice. “Ya done wit yer break yet?”

“A-Almost done, Sakae-san. Uhm, why?”

“Well, ya better hurry. Someone’s here lookin’ for ya.”

Moniwa gulps. “A customer?”

“Nah. Don’t think he is. Just asked for ya.” There’s some rustling from the other side of the line and Moniwa takes a peak to see what’s going on. He didn’t need his phone to hear that Sakae-san asked for Ushijima’s name, it was loud enough to be heard from across the street.

“Said his name’s Ushijima. D’ya know him?”

From what Moniwa can see from his vantage point, Sakae-san is already doing his ‘gangster’ posturing on Ushijima. Puffed chest and squared shoulders. Moniwa can’t see it clearly but he can tell that Sakae-san’s giving Ushijima a once over with that intimidating frown of his meant to scare away any lesser men.

Ushijima isn’t a lesser man, just a confused and unperturbed one, but Moniwa hates to think what might happen to him if Sakae-san deems him dangerous or perceives him as arrogant.

Against his better judgment he hurriedly says “Y-Yeah. I know him, Sakae-san.”

“Huh,” is all Sakae-san says before he continues. “Well, come back here soon then.” Then, the line goes off.

Moniwa leans back on the wall, cringing at himself for making that stupid decision to tell the truth. He wonders how long he can stall, thinks about making up some excuse of not being able to return, but Sakae-san would be suspicious and he still has a car to fix and ugh. Dammit, what’s he going to do?

A stray cat makes the decision for him, when it jumps out of the dumpster, scaring Moniwa making him jump in return. And oh god, he’s starting to smell like it and he can’t have that, ugh. He takes another peak at the shop across the street before looking down on his gloved hands, fingers pressing hard on covered palms.

It’s okay, he tells himself. It’s hidden. If he can’t see it, no one can.

---

“There he is,” Sakae-san drawls upon seeing him approach. Ushijima quickly turns around to look at him and Moniwa’s confident steps faltered a little. He stops a few away from Ushijma.

“Thank you, Sakae-san. I’ll take it from here,” he says with a nod of his head, and the old mechanic waves a dismissing hand before he leaves them alone.

“Moniwa,” he says with a small smile, eyes alight with happiness Moniwa hadn’t seen in a while.

“Ushijima-san. Is there something wrong with the car? Does it need fixing again?”

Ushijima’s smile gives way to a light frown. “Uh, no,” he says with shake of his head. “The car is good. You fixed it well.”

“Oh. What are you doing here then?” Moniwa’s not used to being distant, cold, that as soon as the words came out of his mouth, the beginnings of guilt stirs in his gut. It was made even worse when Ushijima clearly hadn’t expected the treatment, what with the wide eyed, sort of betrayed expression that passed over his face.

“I…I came to see you,” Ushijima answers truthfully. “Maybe, we can talk?”

Moniwa feels his heart softening at the bashful display, but… “I’m sorry, Ushijima-san, but I’m-” he thumbs at the cars behind him, “-busy. I mean, there’s a car that I have to fix and I need to finish it today so I can’t uhm, talk.” He scratches the back of his neck while Ushijima nods at him.

“Of course. You’re right. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

“It’s alright.”

It’s clear from Ushijima’s body language that he doesn’t want to leave yet, but he bows at Moniwa all the same and eventually walks away. Moniwa can’t help but think that Ushijima’s broad back looks sad like that while watching him walk away and it tugs hard at his heart. He bites down on his lips and huffs.

“Ushijima-san!” He calls out, and it must just be Moniwa’s imagination but Ushijima quickly turns around and is striding back towards him.

“Yes?” Did Ushijima really have to look so hopeful? Moniwa shakes his head, dispelling the thought.

“I get off at five. I mean, if you’re free then maybe we can meet later, after…?”

Ushijima smiles wide this time making Moniwa’s heart catch a little. “I’ll be here then.”

Moniwa exhales as he smiles, hoping it doesn’t look forced as it feels on his face and nods.

-----

To be continued