#now it's full speed ahead to edit the next 4 chapters before i get ahead of myself

[grlquartz]

chapter 19 is up! sorry for the long wait :')

[hakutaichou]

[CN] Main Story: Chapter 37 (Gavin Route)

⚠️ SPOILER AHEAD ⚠️

🚨 Warning: This post contains REALLY BIG spoiler from main story which some of them have not been released in JP, TW, Global, nor ASEAN servers. 🚨

A/N: “All Love Interest ANGST Route” takes place between Chapter 37-4 and Chapter 37-5.

Before read, please prepare a tissue and your HEART!!!

- Part 1 -

Northern Suburbs, temporary base for STF.

Days of natural disasters have raised the disaster prevention alert of Loveland City by several levels.

In order to deal with the doomsday, all countries in the world have established doomsday rescue operations headquarters, and jointly formulated a number of rescue policies.

The last issue of "Miracle Finder" is to record the scenes of these soldiers fighting against disasters in the doomsday.

The car stopped at the base station gate, and I got out of the car with camera crew.

In the empty wilderness, several special officers in white uniforms patrolled the surrounding area.

According to the forecast, a tornado is about to hit Loveland City, and the STF troops will be here to stop the crisis.

Minor: Brother, where did your commander go?

STF Officer : Commander is very busy, and has no time to see you.

Minor: Hey, we are...

MC: Hello, we have made an appointment for an interview, can you let us in?

The officer looked suspiciously at the press card hanging around my neck.

STF Officer: You are waiting here, I will confirm it.

Eli: She doesn't need to make an appointment.

STF Officer: Captain Eli!

Eli walked leisurely with his hands in his pockets, and nodded at me.

Eli: MC, long time no see.

He looked at the serious-faced officer again.

Eli: Do you know who she is?

The officer looked at me and then at Eli, with a suddenly realized expression.

STF Officer: Eh, she is Commander's...

I slapped awkwardly, blocked the officer's unfinished words first.

MC: If it is not convenient, let's go back first.

Eli: There is nothing inconvenient. By the way, do you need me to help you call Gavin?

MC: No need! I don't want to interfere with your actions.

Eli: Then don't bother, you are free.

Eli: However, according to forecasts, there will be less than five minutes before the tornado enters the area of ​​the city.

Eli: You'd better shoot near here, don't get close to the edges of those wind barriers.

MC: I understand!

Eli's remarks made everyone start scrambling to set up shooting equipment.

The wind became louder and louder, and a large funnel-shaped cloud soon appeared on the horizon, so gloomy that almost covered the entire sky.

Minor: I heard that the central wind speed of a tornado can reach 200 meters per second, which means that it will blow us away with people and machines in five minutes...

Willow: Close your crow's mouth.

Minor: Hey, I haven't finished speaking yet. With Bro Gavin, there is nothing to worry about.

The film crew quickly set up the machine, ready to start filming the entire process of STF team repelling the tornado.

After a while, the circular wind barrier erected all around shook violently, the surrounding trees were rustling.

A thick black shadow appeared at the end of the horizon, hurriedly approaching here.

The tornado is coming.

Photographer: Producer, the wind and sand are too big, it is difficult for us to get close to shooting!

MC: Let me find a way.

I thought for a while and took out the portable DV machine from my bag.

Just now Eli has divided the safety range for us. As long as we do not exceed that range for shooting, there should be no problem.

The violent wind that came in on the verge of blowing in the gap made the gap bigger, many of the team members who were in the front were injured.

STF Officer: The wind is too strong, we can't approach from the inner wall!

Anxious shouts from the STF members came from afar, and everyone present couldn't help but grab their hearts.

A calm and cold voice came from the communicator.

Gavin: I will go.

It's Gavin.

I resisted the urge to scream, my eyes and the camera stared at the distant sky unblinkingly.

The shifted wind barrier was quickly pushed back to its original position by another strong wind, and returned to the array.

The wind weakened, the tornado gradually deviated from its path.

Everyone waited nervously, and a few minutes later, the shadow of the tornado disappeared without a trace on the horizon.

Photographer: Amazing!!

MC: Gavin, you are so handsome!

Several injured officers were quickly taken away by the resident doctor, and I nervously searched for Gavin on the court.

From a distance, I saw a familiar figure approaching me.

My eyes lit up, and I ran towards him without hesitation.

MC: Are you okay? Isn't it hurt?

A look of helplessness passed across Gavin's face, he stretched out his hand, help me straighten my hair.

MC: What you looked like just now...

"Gavin, you are so handsome!"

At some point, my hand accidentally pressed the play button of the video just recorded, and the sigh was recorded verbatim into the screen.

MC: …When editing, this sentence will be deleted.

A smile finally appeared on his stern face.

Gavin: Wait here, I’ll come to you later.

.

- Part 2 -

STF Officer A: When Commander was still tasked as B-7, we have heard his rumors.

STF Officer A: Whether it is natural or man-made disasters these days, we can survive it, thanks to his judgment and decision-making.

STF Officer B: Yes, everyone was injured in the last rescue. Thanks to Commander, the situation was stabilized and the casualties were avoided.

STF Officer B: …But after returning, he formulated more stringent training plan.

MC: I see...

MC: Is there any moment when Commander makes you feel particularly tender?

The young officer in front of me "umm" for seven full seconds, and finally shook his head.

STF Officer A: More like medical insurance, count it?

Gavin: You seem to be very free.

Gavin stood behind us at some point, his voice cold.

STF Officer A: Commander!

The two STF members who were still babbling a while ago immediately stood up, saluted to Gavin together.

MC: .....

I turned around with a guilty conscience and looked at Gavin in front of me. When I looked down, I noticed that his wrist under his cuff was wrapped in gauze several times.

He just left temporarily, so he should simply treat the wound.

The crowd scattered like birds and beasts, soon only I and Gavin were left.

Gavin: What happened just now?

MC: Well... I just want to interview STF's recent work routine.

Gavin: I'm not asking about that. Your actions just now were dangerous.

MC: I said hello to Eli, and confirmed that I was in the safe zone!

I vowed to raise my hand, swear in my ear. Gavin's serious expression finally eased a little.

Looking at Gavin, I remembered all the rumors I had heard from the officers, their respectful and scared look, I couldn't help but laugh.

Gavin: What are you laughing at?

MC: Nothing, I was thinking about the last issue of "Miracle Finder", would you like to give a personal interview as Commander...

MC: But I'm just kidding, if it bother you, forget it.

Gavin: It's not bother.

His gaze moved down, and he scanned the line of drafted titles on the open page of the notebook in my hand.

Gavin: "The Commander's outside and inside". Do you want to know the outside, or the inside?

I smiled awkwardly, and the corners of Gavin's lips raised slightly.

Minor: Bro Gavin! Are you OK!

A noisy voice came from behind, Gavin glanced back and frowned quickly.

I don't know when Minor ran over, but he was dragged out by Willow before he finished speaking.

After both of them left, the surrounding area became quiet again.

Gavin: It's too noisy here. Let's change place.

I nodded and walked out of the base with Gavin.

***

A whistling wind came from the sinkhole in the distance, and a shallow layer of rain accumulated on the ground, reflecting the clear night sky and a little bit of starlight.

I followed the arched ridge all the way forward and photographed the traces of the tornado, asking Gavin one after another.

MC: I listened to Eli...

MC: NW put all its forces into establishing an airtight underground base, and didn't join your joint rescue...

Gavin: They aren't upside down.

Gavin: As long as that day doesn't come, STF won't give up protecting everyone here.

His tone is very flat, but it makes people feel extremely reliable.

I thought about it, and re-adjusted the DV mode, aiming at Gavin.

MC: Next, I will start an official interview.

Gavin: …Why do you want to give me an interview.

MC: Because you are the Commander of STF, what you say is the most convincing.

This interview is a temporary motive. I was not prepared for the question, so I just asked what I thought.

MC: The first question: What is the most important thing for the commander at the moment?

Gavin: Protect everyone's safety, and prevent disasters from happening.

MC: The second question: The commander felt that in this situation, for every citizens, what is the most important thing?

Gavin: This is varies from person to another.

…This minimalist way of answering questions, it's really Gavin's style.

MC: The third question...

Suddenly, the flapping sound of bird wings interrupted my question, and large swarms of pigeons started to start from deep in the woods.

MC: That is...

Gavin raised his head, looking solemnly at the flock of white pigeons in the sky.

Gavin: The abnormal weather in the past few days has caused the magnetic field in the vicinity to be disordered, and the return route of the pigeons has also been affected.

In the deep night, the pigeon flock wandered anxiously over the woods, flapping its wings constantly, as if calling for the return of their companions.

However, after the tornado struck, many birds were injured or died, and white feathers were scattered everywhere on the ground.

Several faint calls came from the bushes not far away.

Gavin and I approached and found two injured pigeons

One of them was badly injured, and dying; the other was still struggling.

MC: Will they die?

Gavin didn't speak, and rescued the two pigeons from the strange orange bushes, with a little blood stained on their messy wings.

It seemed to be frightened, its body trembling, and the warning sound of "cooing" as soon as we approached.

MC: Great, it seems okay!

Gavin: Be careful, don't get hurt by them.

Gavin: This is a wild pigeon that has not been domesticated, and is very wary of humans.

Gavin avoided the beak pecked by the pigeon, picked it up and checked it.

Gavin: No injuries.

The pigeon struggled to escape from his palm.

MC: Do they continue to fly forward?

Gavin made a soft "Mm" sound.

Gavin untwisted the withered grass entangled in its ankles, and another small gust of wind rolled up in his palms, drying its wet wings.

Gavin: If the wings are not wet, the flight home can be easier.

Its eyes rolled steadily, as if understanding the intention of Gavin, obediently gave up the struggle.

Perhaps after waiting too long, the group hovering in the sky gradually moved away, flying behind the invisible gray sky.

MC: Can this pigeon find its friends?

Gavin: Difficult.

MC: I see...

Gavin seemed to notice my loss, and changed his words.

Gavin: But it is not impossible.

Gavin: The migration of pigeon, is actually a story about commitment.

MC: Committed?

Gavin: Fulfill their promise to go back.

Gavin: No matter how far you fly, you will definitely arrive where you want to fly as scheduled.

The pigeon in his palm seemed to sense Gavin's words and tried to wave its wings again.

The small gust of wind gradually increased, escorting this child to the sky.

Soon, it struggling to flap its wings forward, disappearing into the night sky and the end of the stars.

MC: In fact, whether it is them or the wind, they all know their direction.

MC: Even if it takes a long time to walk, even if it will go away, it will not stop.

MC: Is that right?

Gavin didn't speak, but gently held my hand.

At this time, a few STF members came towards us, saluted to Gavin, and solemnly reported the situation of the other bases.

Gavin's face was always calm, as if no matter what kind of danger he encountered, he would not have the slightest panic.

MC: Is there another task?

I couldn't help but whisper to Eli, who was beside me, and he nodded.

Eli: I heard that there was a violent conflict in the city, and the situation is not very optimistic. They have to come to support tonight.

MC: I see... thank you very much.

Eli: Don't worry, Gavin will stay in Loveland City to lead. He is the backbone of all of us.

I'm a little embarrassed to be guessed by Eli.

Eli: But we have to rush to deal with a flood tonight. The disaster is dangerous, so you can't follow.

MC: I know, you guys must come back safely.

The bonfire ignited at the distant base dispelled the darkness, and the constantly rising tongue of fire brightened the night sky red, and occasionally there were a few crisp clashes of wine glasses and laughter.

This temporary celebration and happiness seem extremely precious on such a night.

I involuntarily rubbed my palms tightly, and some hope that the "moment" in that prophecy would come soon.

No matter where I go or what I experience, it would be great if I could reverse the ending.

After the officers reported, Eli stepped forward and said something to Gavin, patted him on the shoulder, and suddenly looked at me again.

Eli: I'll leave first, and meet again later, the young couple get along well.

Eli left after speaking, waved goodbye to me before leaving.

There was a brief silence all around, only cheers from afar broke the silence between us.

MC: Are you leaving now?

Gavin: Mm, we will leave in two hours.

I stepped forward, took his hand gently, and sat down on a rock.

The wind in the wilderness is blowing on the long stretch of grass in the distance, and there is a green smell in the darkness that fluctuates with the night.

MC: Then you need a good rest now.

MC: I wonder if Mr. Commander, who has been busy all day, is willing to agree to my request.

Gavin: Can I take a rest?

I was stunned by him, after a few seconds, I didn't expect Gavin was directly rest on my knee.

Gavin: Thank you for coming.

MC: ...You're welcome.

I opened my mouth again, trying to remedy my stupid answer, but Gavin had already closed my eyes.

For a long time, long and even breathing sounded from my knees.

This land is shrouded in night and cold, but my heart is very bright and warm at this moment.

I gently stroked his finally showing tired eyebrows, my heart soft.

MC: Thank you for the hard work, Gavin.

I hope you can also have a good dream.

.

- Part 3 -

In the vast expanse of the universe, a swarm of comets quickly fell to the blue planet.

Cities, forests, mountains, rivers and oceans were all engulfed by heat waves and tongues of fire, and vanished in the blink of an eye.

It seems that I am the only one left in the whole world, and the stars gradually shrink, hitting my heart like a burning bullet hitting the bullseye---

I woke up from the nightmare and took a deep breath.

Gavin: Woke up?

MC: I'm sorry... I fell asleep too.

I raised my head, met Gavin's worried eyes.

Gavin: Had a nightmare?

MC: Not a manifest dream, but a sweet dream.

MC: I dreamt that we became super cosmic warriors, saving the world from the brink of destruction.

I cheered up, and made a joke pretending to be relaxed.

Gavin: It seems that dream should be kept longer, it is best not to wake up.

He sighed, and gathered the jacket over me again.

There are footsteps approaching behind him.

When Gavin got up, the officer came over and whispered something to Gavin.

I was stunned, and quickly reacted: He is going to the next temporary base to command the mission.

MC: Are you leaving soon?

Gavin: There are still ten minutes left.

MC: Then I have one last question to interview you.

I turned around, fixedly looked at Gavin.

MC: Before the end, what is your wish?

Gavin: ...My wish?

MC: This is the question I want to ask you, so you can answer me alone.

MC: I have interviewed many people these days, and heard many people’s wishes, but I haven't had a chance to ask your wishes.

MC: I want to know what Gavin's wish is.

Gavin's expression was a little surprised, and he didn't speak for a long time.

Perhaps, this question is too vain and slow, he never put his wishes on unrealistic things.

???: Look, there are meteors!

The cheers of the crowd came from far behind, and Gavin and I raised our heads together.

The sky was passing by a meteor, dragging a bright trail, from loneliness to grandeur.

Under this bright and grand light, everything becomes small and quiet.

MC: Beautiful...

The falling trajectory of the meteor is long and narrow in the night sky.

The ubiquitous light illuminates the mountains and valleys in the distance, the river at the end of the horizon, and the city.

It also illuminates every face looking up on the earth.

Gavin suddenly grabbed my hand, his voice was very soft.

Gavin: When I was seventeen, I did have a wish.

Suddenly a large swarm of snow-white flew across the sky.

The flying dove in the dark night fluttered its wings and dropped a large piece of white feathers, drowning his voice.

I looked up in a different place, saw his star-lit eyes, and wanted to ask him what it was.

He looked at me with a deep retention and sadness. I always felt, that there were many emotions that I didn't understand.

In a second of distraction, I almost blurted out if he knew that I was going to leave.

But I didn't have the courage to speak up to verify this conjecture.

I grabbed his hand and tried to make a smile.

MC: I used to see meteors and could only think of wishing. I didn't expect that one day the meteors would actually destroy the world.

Gavin: Are you scared?

I shook my head.

MC: In fact, as long as I'm by your side, I'm not afraid at all.

Gavin lowered his head and put the kiss on our folded hands.

Gavin: I promise you.

Gavin: I won't leave you, until the last moment.

I heard his heartbeat on his chest, closed my eyes, and silently made a vow to the meteor.

May the world never end.

May he always be by my side.

.

- Part 4 -

The news broadcast the arrival time of the X1917 comet cluster, as expected, without any change.

As a commander, Gavin became more and more busy, and the occasional time together became exceptionally short.

Today, the STF is holding a major meeting.

Those present were all commanders from various countries' combat headquarters participating in this joint doomsday rescue.

After the meeting, I put down the interview draft and couldn't help but look at the meeting room.

Gavin came out last, and he was talking to a foreign man with a high nose and deep eyes.

The man seemed to notice me waiting on the side, he turned to me, his face stretched.

Foreign Commander: Eh, you are the producer. I have watched your show, Miracle Finder, which is great.

He gave me a thumbs up.

MC: ...Thank you!

I can't fully understand their small talk. I can only vaguely hear the commander's admiration and gratitude to Gavin.

After the conversation, he saluted to Gavin, and then left with his men.

I couldn't wait to walk to Gavin, wanting to open my mouth, but hesitated again.

The news specially told him today, perhaps compared with the important news he comes into contact with every day, is nothing at all.

Gavin: What's wrong?

MC: Gavin, I have good news for you.

MC: After the previous program was broadcast, some citizens contacted us and wanted to send you a loving lunch, medical supplies, and...

I counted the enthusiastic letters I received these days with my fingers. He listened carefully, his lips curled up unconsciously.

Gavin: STF doesn't need these for the time being, but it can be sent to disaster areas with more dangerous conditions.

Gavin: You can figure it out. I'll give you some addresses later.

MC: Okay!

Gavin's gaze flickered slightly, as if he had to say something, the communicator on his waist ticked.

Gavin: ...Wait for me.

MC: It's okay, go ahead.

I cheered up and bid farewell to Gavin, but the loss of separation was still unstoppable in my heart.

I let out a sigh of relief and began to think about how to arrange these supplies.

This time we are, fighting side by side with all mankind.

***

The last day of the countdown.

The days of waiting regretfully finally arrived, but it seemed to be no different from usual.

MC: How is the situation today?

STF Officer A: There were no casualties, and damaged communications and traffic are slowly recovering.

STF Officer B: That's right, Commander was not injured, so Sister-In-Law, don't worry.

MC: ...Okay.

While chatting, I looked around for Gavin's figures.

Soon, a figure dangled from behind the door of the headquarters.

Gavin, who had changed his uniform, walked towards me, the cuffs of the gray jacket were slightly rolled up, revealing a strong wrist.

At the moment when my eyes were facing each other, Gavin had already walked to me, and I was stunned for a second.

I raised my head and looked at him, as if I had guessed something in my heart.

Gavin: Come?

MC: You, there are no tasks today?

Gavin: I took half a day off.

MC: Eh....?

Gavin: I'll accompany you out for a walk.

Behind him, the whistle and the confession sounded one after another, Gavin faintly swept back, and the group of people suddenly made noise again.

MC: Is it really okay? I think it’s good to stay here...

Gavin took my hand and walked out. I turned around a little hesitantly, afraid that he would waste too much time.

Unexpectedly, Eli also waved at me and made a "rest assured" mouth shape.

Gavin: Leave them alone.

MC: I don't know why, but now I always have a feeling of occupying major public resources.

The corners of Gavin's mouth twitched slightly, and he looked at me helplessly, sighed.

Gavin: Can't the Commander go on a date after get off work.

He stood still in front of me, a little serious in his amber eyes.

Gavin: What stands in front of you now, it's Gavin that belongs to you only.

***

There was no one on the street, and the few shadows of trees stretched to the end of the empty road.

We unknowingly walked to the vicinity of Loveland High School and ate the last bowl of noodles at the still-open Lynn's Kitchen.

A live interview of STF to fight off the tornado is being broadcast on TV, and the boss exclaims while watching.

Boss: Did you really repel the tornado?

Gavin: Some news likes to exaggerate, you don't have to believe it.

MC: Gavin, this was taken by me.

Gavin: …Hmm, it was repelled.

Boss: Add more beef for you. Do you want other side dishes?

MC: I want it!

Gavin: Are you sure you can eat it?

MC: I'm able to eat it!

Gavin put down his chopsticks, looked at the side dishes on the table and the pile of beef in the bowl, he expressed doubts to me with his eyes.

MC: Is this a new flavor of noodles? It seems that I have never eaten it before.

Boss: Did little girl eat it? I updated the recipe of the soup. How does it taste?

MC: Super invincible and delicious!

Boss: That's good.

Boss: There are too many things that have been missed in a lifetime, and it's not worth beating.

Boss: However, it is still a pity that more people haven't tasted this bowl of noodles.

Boss: Thank you for finishing it.

***

MC: I'm so full...!

Gavin: You ate all the side dishes the boss gave.

MC: Because I don’t want to be a starving ghost...

Gavin: Nonsense.

Gavin gently knocked on my forehead, his eyes turned to the school gate across the road, his expression suddenly softened.

Gavin: You saved a cat here.

MC: You have beaten a few people here.

Gavin laughed.

Unexpectedly the school door closed tightly. Gavin noticed the loss on my face and patted my shoulder lightly.

Gavin: Do you want to go elsewhere?

MC: What a pity... I still want to go back and have a look.

MC: Wait, I get it!

***

Gavin: Are you sure you want to do this?

MC: No one, is afraid of anything!

With Gavin's help, I finally climbed the outer wall of the back door of the school.

MC: I wanted to do this a long time ago.

I clapped my hands, turned my head, Gavin was still standing under the wall, looking at me with a little speechless and a little funny.

MC: It doesn't matter, there is no one in the security room and no one in the school building. Come up soon.

Gavin touched his lips, with an expression of defeat by me.

He easily climbed up the wall and sat down beside me.

Gavin: Ready?

He seemed to see my hesitation and looked at me holding back a smile.

Gavin: I will count down for you?

This is the end of the matter, regret is useless. I took a deep breath and slowly released the fingers that were holding behind me.

Gavin: Three, two---

Before "One" hasn’t shouted out, I subconsciously let go of my hand because of tension, and my falling body was quickly surrounded by a gust of wind.

The violent heartbeat hit the tympanic membrane, and we landed safely on the ground.

MC: I didn't seem to have eaten so much just now.

Gavin: Can't walk anymore?

MC: ...I'm afraid you won't be able to hold it.

Gavin: Hold tight.

As if to verify this sentence, his hand pierced my knees and hugged me to the direction of the school building.

MC: But like this...!!

Gavin gently raised the corners of her lips.

Gavin: No one, is afraid of anything.

***

We came to Gavin's classroom.

The classroom door was not locked. I turned on the light, saw that the writing on the blackboard had not been cleaned.

MC: Gavin, which table is yours?

Gavin was a little surprised. He looked around and pointed to the back of the classroom by the window.

Gavin: There.

MC: Is this one?

I walked to the back of the classroom and stared curiously at the graffiti on this table.

MC: "Early" was carved upside down on the table,... I can't tell that you are quite easy to learn.

Gavin: …It’s the back one.

I followed Gavin's gaze and looked back. A desk was in the corner next to the wall.

MC: But after so many years, It must have changed many seats, and the table may not be this one.

I took the opportunity to sit down in the seat where Gavin had been, and looked around.

MC: Um... the vision from the blackboard is not very good.

MC: But the ventilation is good, it should be comfortable to sleep here in the afternoon.

I don't know if it was because of listening to my serious comments, there was a sporadic smile on his lips.

Gavin: Why are you talking about that suddenly?

MC: I told you before, we organized ordinary citizens and Evolver to build a wishing wall.

MC: I thought I would see a lot of fanciful and weird wishes, but after seeing it, I realized that this was not the case.

MC: "I want to eat hot pot for the last time", "Reunion with my family", "I want to reconcile with the lover who broke up"...

MC: That’s why I realized, everyone’s strongest wish is, actually a regret that has not been realized.

MC: That's why...

I want to make up for these regrets.

We left the classroom, and walked down the stairs. The sound of different footsteps echoed in the dim staircase.

Gavin: Are you scared?

MC: Hm?

Gavin: I remember many horror legends circulated in schools.

He slowed down as he spoke, always keeping a step away from me in front of him.

I hesitated for a moment and wanted to tell Gavin that I was not afraid.

In other words, I'm more afraid that the road under my feet will be finished soon than I'm afraid of these stories.

I hope the stairs below my feet can be longer, preferably without end.

MC: .....Gavin.

I stood on the edge of the steps, turned my head, and could not help calling his name.

A repressed impulse, drove me to do something.

He stood on a step lower than me, stopped, and looked at me with some doubts.

The few rays of light that leaked out of the window fell between us, cutting light and dark apart.

This light is like a crease, and I stand in front of him now, as if witnessing the folding of the years that have separated us.

Gavin: I know what you want to say.

His voice was lightened for an instant, with a sure smile.

The next second, he bent down, clasped my chin, and kissed me.

.

- Part 5-

The dim lights on both sides of the road passed through the dense leaves, scattered on the ground.

The library didn’t open, Gavin and I were strolling around the empty campus.

There seemed to be a warm touch remaining on the lips, I looked away pretending to be calm, always embarrassed to meet Gavin's gaze.

The bell rang in the distance, and the ginkgo leaves rustled down.

For a time, none of us spoke.

The meteors in the sky are getting denser, and my heart is beating faster and faster.

An uneasy premonition told me, that moment was approaching.

MC: Although shooting stars can be seen every day, it seems that many wishes are too late.

I pretended to smile with ease, breaking the deadlock between us. Gavin seemed to perceive something, and his amber-colored eyes looked at me.

Gavin: MC, You haven't finished what you just said.

Gavin: You keep asking about my wishes, what about yours?

MC: My wish...

My voice couldn't help but stop.

The ginkgo leaves on the branches are crumbling, and some are knocking on the windows of the school building behind them.

These leaves rustle on the branches in summer, and they creak when they fall in autumn. Every leaf makes a nice sound, but I have never noticed it.

I suddenly knew what my wish was.

I want to walk slowly at the school gate before the class bell rings.

I want to look up in the library and take a good look at the teenager sleeping opposite me.

I want to catch the wind at the age of seventeen, and say goodbye to him before the ginkgo leaves fall.

I looked up at Gavin, suddenly I wanted to cry.

MC: What if my wish will never come true?

Gavin was taken aback, for a long time, he rubbed the top of my head.

Gavin: Then go ahead.

Gavin: The wish that may not be reached now, but if you come back one day, it's already by your side.

I took a deep breath and grabbed his hand.

MC: Gavin, I am going to do something very important now.

MC: I kept busying myself a few days ago, thinking that if I didn't think about it, I wouldn't be sad until that time.

MC: But now I want to thank you, you gave me the courage to face it.

I felt like crying, but still managed to squeeze a smile.

MC: I'm leaving.

Gavin was silent, he gently stretched out his hand and stroked my face.

Gavin: I seem to be very bad at saying goodbye, and I have never been able to say goodbye to you every time.

Gavin didn't ask why or where I was going. He seemed to have known about this a long time ago.

Just hugged my arm hard and hot, as if to hold something at the last moment.

MC: This time it's my turn to say goodbye to you.

MC: We have experienced so many things, so this time is nothing.

I feel my body is getting lighter and lighter, and my limbs are gradually losing consciousness.

Perhaps that moment has come, my mind is getting harder and harder to concentrate, only vaguely seeing deeper and deeper sadness in my eyes.

MC: You told me...

MC: Regardless of the wind, the pigeon has its own direction, and I think I should do the same.

MC: But I am a person who has no sense of direction. I may go the wrong way and it will take a long time to get back to you...

Tears still fell unconvincingly, I sucked my mouth and wanted to speak again, but Gavin interrupted my words firmly.

Gavin: It doesn't matter if you go the wrong way.

Gavin: It doesn't matter if you come late.

Gavin: When I was seventeen, you let me know the direction of the wind.

Gavin: So it’s the same for you, just walk in your direction, no matter where you lead...

Gavin: My wish, is to meet you.

The white light was like a trickle, slowly seeping from the girl's body, illuminating the whole night.

MC: When the time comes, please correct my direction.

Feathers fluttered slowly from the girl's body.

The sky seemed to show a gleam of light, and the wine fell on the white feathers piled up under the girl's feet.

Gavin stood there quietly for a long time, his eyes always on the place where the girl disappeared.

He looked at the feathers scattered on the ground and the ginkgo that was blown away by the wind, his lips moved slightly and his hands slowly dropped.

The clear and distant "ding dong" echoed in the empty campus---

The bell rang after class.

.

[janeofcakes]

Soulmates: How John Met Sherlock...Again  Chapter 4

Hello, my lovelies! It is Saturday and I actually have some time to post now. YES! I don't have to wait until the final hour on Sunday night. Hats off to my brother for distracting the children. Haha.

I can't wait to see what you all think of this chapter. Editing it was a tooth-gritting experience. Enjoy!

---

John cannot help the grin spreading across his face as Gracie drags him through Regent’s Park to the appointed place they have met Olive for nearly a month now. Her face is screwed up in determination, her feet marching swiftly along and she tugs him behind by the hand. John shakes his head slightly and huffs a quiet laugh. He should have known his idea of a leisurely stroll on the way to meet Olive and her father was not in the cards. Gracie had informed John that, barring some emergency case, they would be in the park in the usual place before he had even taken his coat off after arriving home the night before. Candace had laughed and said Gracie had spoken of nothing else since leaving school. John even had a hard time getting her settled for bed. Gracie kept detailing the playdate plans she had made with Olive. She finally stopped and committed to sleep when John told her she would be too tired to go and have to stay home.

The morning had been a buzz of activity as they made and ate breakfast, and did some household chores. Gracie didn’t even argue about cleaning her room. They watered the plants in their small courtyard together. Gracie pulled a few weeds and, before they knew it, it was lunchtime. John made something quick so he could make afternoon snacks along with it, and so Gracie could get started eating. Weekends usually see her at the table for at least an hour, talking and eating as slowly as humanly possible. Today, however, she ate in record time and was waiting by the door anxiously when it was time to go.

“Come on, Dad,” Gracie growls, yanking John’s hand again. John grumbles when their snack-toting shoulder bag slips down his free arm to his elbow. Fortunately, he catches hold of it before it spills open or hits the ground.

“Gracie, slow down,” John commands tersely. “They aren’t going to leave before we get there.”

“We’re nearly ten minutes late,” Gracie insists without looking back at him, tugging him ahead again.

“I knew that watch was a bad idea,” John mutters to himself and sighs. Suddenly, Gracie stops in her tracks and John nearly walks right into her. The shoulder bag slips again, stopping only because its length adjustment clip catches on the fabric of his thin spring cardigan. John scrambles for the bag before it tears a hole and scolds his daughter, but his voice is completely drowned out by her squeal.

“Oh my god, they’re here!” Gracie drops John’s hand and runs at full speed toward the two figures twenty yards ahead. John huffs as he steadies the bag on his shoulder. He let her get away with that three times during the story last night, but is not about to this time.

“Gracie, language…” the word dies in John’s throat as his eyes follow his daughter to where a tall man sits on his knees in the dirt with Olive. It’s Sherlock Holmes.

“Oh my god,” John says slowly as shock overtakes him.

Sherlock and Olive are studying something in her hand that they must have pulled from the dirt and are deep in discussion. They haven’t even noticed Gracie running for them yet. John, unlike his daughter, cannot move. It’s Sherlock. Sherlock is right in front of him. John has not seen this man in ten years and he looks… exactly the same. Tall and fit and thin. Hm. Thin instead of skinny and not so pale. Sherlock looks healthy, which is not something John ever thought would cross his mind.

John watches as Gracie reaches them and shouts a greeting. Olive drops whatever she was holding to throw her hands in the air and cry out Gracie’s name. Sherlock reaches toward Gracie and laughs as he says ‘hey’. He is smiling. It’s the brightest, happiest smile John has ever seen on Sherlock’s face and it. Is. Beautiful.

So not everything is exactly the same with Sherlock Holmes and yet, doesn’t feel that far off. He is wearing one of his dress shirts, as John would expect, but his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he is wearing jeans. Jeans! And an ordinary pair of brown shoes. His curls are still dark and tousled. John can’t help but think of his own hair, more grey now than blonde. At least, that’s how he sees it. Still, the years have been kind to John too. He’s only a little fuller in the middle and the lines on his face have grown very little. John wonders for a moment what Sherlock will see when he finally lays eyes on John again.

“Dad!” Gracie calls and waves, jarring John from his reverie. His gaze comes into focus to see Gracie and Olive motioning to him frantically. John’s eyes shift to the detective and, oh god, Sherlock is looking at him.

Sherlock’s eyes are wide with surprise, his lips parted. That brilliant smile he had just worn fading away as the realization that his former flatmate and best friend is standing a few yards away takes hold. The detective rises slowly as Olive and Gracie dart for John, reaching him in seconds. They each grab one of his hands and start flapping up and down, Olive saying hello and Gracie urging him to come along. John cannot tear his eyes away from the tall man staring back at him. Neither man can believe his eyes or the coincidence of it all. Speaking of which, how the bloody hell does Sherlock Holmes have a child? One he obviously fathered because she looks just like him.

“Dad, come on. Come on,” Gracie interrupts John’s bewildered thoughts again, tugging hard on his hand. “Come meet Olive’s dad.”

“He’s right there,” Olive is saying while pulling John’s other hand. “We were just studying the soil. You’re not interrupting. He really wants to meet you.”

“Dad,” Gracie raises her voice and John finally responds with a slight shake of the head as he puts one foot in front of the other. Gracie rolls her eyes and continues to drag him along. Fortunately, she and Olive don’t have to pull him far because Sherlock begins to walk toward them. When they all meet there in the grass, the two girls start jumping around excitedly and shouting about how great it is that it’s finally happening.

“We’ve been waiting for this for so long!” Gracie exclaims, her feet never on the ground for more than a second at a time.

“And now we can have our playdate,” Olive declares. Whenever Gracie is touching the ground, Olive’s feet are in the air. It looks rather like a mad seesaw. “Maybe next weekend too!”

The two girls gasp and suddenly stop moving, frozen in time. They stare at one another, each thinking the same thing.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Gracie speaks first in a high voice and then lets out a little giggle. She often does when she is very excited, along with a quick dance. Olive nods frantically, saying ‘Yes, yes, yes’ and they both turn to their fathers for introductions

“Dad,” Gracie grabs John’s hand again and jumps in place, “this is Olive’s dad, Will.”

“Actually, Sherlock Holmes,” Olive pipes up. She turns to Sherlock with a bright smile. “This is John.”

“H-hi,” John stumbles over the word like an idiot. There are a couple of lines around Sherlock’s eyes and two or three on his forehead, wisps of grey hair at his temples and maybe a few mixed into his curls, but they are harder to see. He is much the same man John left behind ten years ago and his heart aches with how much John missed him.

“Hello, John,” Sherlock replies in a soft, warm tone and damn him for collecting himself again so quickly. Damn him again for still having that same silky baritone John had finally gotten used to not hearing. It’s almost too much. John had to completely rearrange his life and way of thinking when he and Mary left London. He struggled in silence because Mary wanted nothing more to do with the detective. She was done and insisted John finish with him as well. John learned quickly that Mary did not want to hear about, or even see, his difficulties with forgetting Sherlock. He used to slip out of the house periodically to phone Greg and find out how Sherlock was, but stopped after only two months. Hearing about his best friend and not being able to see or help him proved to be too painful. Shortly thereafter, something else happened that required all of John’s attention and nearly broke him. That first year in Bath had been hard.

John swallows hard and shoves the memories down. He can’t do this. Seeing Sherlock again… It’s too much. Sherlock’s brows are raised, worry creeping onto his face. Damn it. John must be broadcasting every thought and emotion going through his head. Sentiment, Sherlock would say with disdain.

“There,” Gracie says loudly with glee and John blinks from the shock of it. “Now you’ve met. Can we have our playdate tomorrow?”

“Yes, yes,” Olive echoes her friend’s excited tone. “Can we?”

“Olive, you know we have plans tomorrow,” Sherlock tuts and reminds her when she frowns quizzically. “A certain birthday party.”

“Oh! I forgot,” Olive turns to a disappointed Gracie to explain. “It’s my uncle’s party. We’re going to make a cake tonight and put the frosting on in the morning. What about next Sunday?”

Both girls are looking at Sherlock expectantly. He glances at John, who still cannot seem to get himself together and function normally.

“We’ll talk about it while you’re playing,” Sherlock assures them. They don’t seem satisfied with this answer at first, but another idea occurs to Olive quickly enough.

“Come on,” she says to Gracie suddenly. “I’ll tell you about the party while we swing.”

“Hurry, before they beat us to them!” Gracie shouts, spying two other girls heading that way. Just like that, they’re off across the playground. John and Sherlock are alone.

“John,” Sherlock’s voice is soft. A small smile plays at his lips and John feels a surge of nerves coarse through his gut as he remembers how Sherlock smiled on the tarmac after that stupid joke.

Sherlock is really a girl’s name.

John inhales quickly, but deeply and lets it out of his nose slowly, trying not to appear panicked. God, he missed this idiot.

“Are you all right?” Sherlock asks, concern plain on his face now.

“Yes,” John croaks, cursing himself silently and clearing his throat. “I’m fine. Just surprised. I had no idea.”

“Nor did I,” Sherlock agrees, relaxing his stance a bit. “Olive always said ‘Gracie’s dad’.”

“Yeah, exactly,” John smiles slightly in spite of himself. “She mentioned you work with the police, but I never would have made the connection. Of course, she also said your name was Will, come to think of it.”

John is rambling now. Goddamn, just shut up, Watson. His eyes rove over Sherlock’s face, taking in every detail. Every angle and line, reacquainting himself with those ridiculous cheekbones. It’s like coming home.

“You look good,” John says before he can think better of it. His cheeks flush and he can feel the warmth of it, but he doesn’t look away.

“You do too, John,” Sherlock answers, almost looking a touch bashful. It is certainly a different look for Sherlock Holmes, John muses. “Bath suits you.”

“Ah, not well enough,” John tilts his head and smirks. “Not like London. I’m back for good.”

“So I hear. You’ve taken over a practice,” Sherlock remarks conversationally. “How is it?”

“Yeah, Andrew Collins, an old friend. He’s taken early retirement,” John tells him, resting his hands on his hips casually. “It’s good. I like it. Different patients, occasional emergency.”

“And you’ve been at it…” Sherlock pauses to let John fill in the blank. John feels a bit apprehensive. Sherlock is fishing. He wants to know how long John has been in London without trying to contact him once. He knows it has been longer than since Gracie started school. Of course, he does.

“A couple of months,” John finishes the sentence and wets his lips. “I wanted to make sure it suited me before moving Gracie.”

“Of course,” Sherlock says with a nod. Oddly enough, he does not seem at all put out. “Perfectly planned.”

“You’re still at 221B?” John asks in an easy tone, even though the question has been burning in his mind.

“I am,” Sherlock’s shoulders angle back minutely.

“From what I hear, Olive is in…” John stops, suddenly not sure how to phrase it.

“Your old room, yes,” Sherlock says without hesitation. John knows it shouldn’t, but his gut clenches at how easily Sherlock says it. As if he doesn’t mind at all that John is gone. Then again, why should he? It’s been ten years and so much has changed. They have both moved on. They are both fathers and have their own lives. Until five minutes ago, John thought they would never cross paths again.

“It’s good of you to meet us today,” Sherlock begins. “Olive has spoken of little else. Is Rosie with you too?”

John’s smile fades in a second. He should have known it was unavoidable. Sherlock seems so changed, but is apparently just the same. Why should their past friendship spare John from his ruthless bite and deductions?

“No,” John replies curtly. “She’s not here.”

“Ah,” Sherlock answers pleasantly enough. It’s a good show and cuts John to the bone. “At home with Mary then. It is Rosie? Mary said she liked the name.”

“Do we have to do this?” John snaps, the muscles in his jaw contracting as his anger builds. Yes, John had left with a word. Yes, he hadn’t tried to contact Sherlock even once over the last ten years, but that didn’t give Sherlock the right to drag him back through the despair and heartache.

“Uh...no,” the detective responds apprehensively. He watches John with uncertainty, as if he doesn’t understand what he has done wrong. John remains silent and glares daggers. “I’m sorry. I just thought…”

“What, Sherlock?” John interrupts, his blue eyes cold as ice. “You’d rub salt on the wound?”

Sherlock’s lips part and he shakes his head shallowly as though he does not know what to say or what is happening.

“Unbelievable,” John mutters and then snaps again. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. Mycroft still has his minions watching me, even after all this time. Don’t pretend he hasn’t told you everything.”

John’s fury boils strong in his blood, but he reigns it in for the sake of the girls and other children around them. None of them need to witness him shouting at Sherlock today, or any time for that matter. He glares up at his former friend and feels a fresh wave of anger sweep over him when Sherlock continues to look at him in confusion. The taller man raises his hands to placate John and actually takes a small step backwards. He shakes his head again, opening his mouth to say what? Play the fool? No, absolutely not. Sherlock is not going to deny this and trick John into apologizing. Not this time.

John raises his left hand to point an accusatory finger, but Sherlock beats him to the next word.

“I’m sorry, John. I don’t know…”

“She’s dead,” John cuts him off a little too loudly for a woman nearby. She gasps and moves away quickly. Feeling a shade self-conscious, John lowers his hand slowly and glances around to see if anyone else heard. The other men and women sitting on blankets in the grass or on park benches around them give no indication that they heard a thing. Every one of them continues looking on as their children play or read a book without a single look in John and Sherlock’s direction.

“I had no idea Mary had been killed,” Sherlock begins as John turns to face him. He appears appropriately contrite, in spite of the fact that Mary had nearly killed him months before they left London. “I am sorry.”

“Not Mary,” John shakes his head, suddenly very tired. “Rosie.”

“Rose…” Sherlock’s jaw drops in utter shock. He can’t even say her name and his voice fades into a quiet strangled sound. His face has gone very pale indeed and John almost asks if he is okay as his doctor’s nature kicks in, but then the anger surges back. Sherlock can never just let things be. He always has to poke the bear. He did it on every case. Every deduction, no matter how painful for those involved, announced with flourish so he could show off. Everyone had to know Sherlock Holmes was a genius, a magnificent, bloody genius and John had played right into it.

Now the detective turns it back on John. Now he is the interesting case and must be dragged through the mire, forced to remember another event that nearly tore him apart. First Afghanistan, then Sherlock and finally, Rosie. John is being punished. Punished for leaving Sherlock in the same way John had punished him upon his return from the dead. John deserves this. He knows he does, but fury rises up in his throat regardless and his hands clench at his sides.

“Oh god,” Sherlock’s voice almost startles John. It is small and so full of pain. John jerks his head back in confusion at the unexpected sentiment, his mind reeling with anger and perplexity in equal measure. Sherlock reaches for him and he is suddenly in the detective’s arms. John’s eyes are wide, his body stiff with shock. He has no idea how to react to this. Sherlock was never big on touching people and, while it had always been different with John, he could count the number of times this had happened on one hand, and most of them were at his wedding.

John remains still and tries to sort through all of the thoughts and feelings in his mind. One surfaces again and again, though he pushes it away. The feeling that he just wants to let go and melt in this man’s arms. How much did he want this very thing when they lived together in 221B? How many times had he wanted it over the years while he was in Bath and now here he is resisting it. John’s mind spins, unable to pick a direction until he hears Sherlock’s next words.

“I’m so sorry, John.”

It is a whisper in John’s ear and it sets every nerve ablaze. John pulls himself from Sherlock’s embrace and backs away, shaking his head from side to side. His body quakes with anger as he glares at his former friend.

“You don’t get to do this,” John growls, keeping himself in check in this public setting. Sherlock looks stunned and John’s mind gives a mirthless laugh. It was probably by design that Sherlock planned they meet here in a park within full view of their daughters. John could never haul off and punch him here. “You bastard.”

“John, no. That’s not what this is about,” Sherlock begins, the surprise falling from his face as he deduces John perfectly. Damn him.

“Then what is it about, Sherlock?” John bites out, keeping his voice down. “You want me to suffer because I left. I chose Mary and I left you and you want me to pay.”

“No,” Sherlock insists, his arms out now and palms out.

“Bullshit,” John snaps, his hands in fists again. His jaw is tight in a furious smile and his eyes flash. He takes a step toward Sherlock that can be interpreted as nothing less than aggressive, a warning. “Your damn brother has said it all before, but it’s not enough. You have to make me explain it all.”

“No!” Sherlock interrupts with a quiet urgency in his voice. He takes his own step forward so the two men are nose to nose, not more than a foot between them. “Mycroft tried to tell me where you went and what you were doing, but he didn’t, John. I wouldn’t let him. I don’t know a thing about the last ten years of your life. Not one thing.”

“What?” John’s brows furrow and he grimaces. The anger tries to push back and take control, but Sherlock’s words have a foothold and won’t back down. John searches his eyes for deception where there is none. “But his men. I’ve seen them.”

“He will always have spies. He can’t bear to not know everything,” Sherlock says like it’s a bad taste in his mouth. He meets John’s eyes and his expression softens. “But I don’t. I don’t know anything.”

“Why?” is all John can think to say. It doesn’t make sense. Sherlock always had to know, especially if it was something Mycroft knew. That competition surpassed all others in both their minds. How could he avoid the temptation? Unless it wasn’t one, and that thought turns John’s stomach.

“It was too much,” Sherlock mutters, lowering his eyes. He bites his lower lip and his gaze loses its focus as he recalls the past. “Two days after you’d gone, Mycroft came to the flat to tell me you’d gone by train. I stopped him before he even said where.”

Sherlock raises his silvery eyes that look just a bit glossier than usual. He sighs and tilts his head slightly, the corners of his lips angling downward.

“I knew he would tell me whatever I wanted to know, but…”Sherlock pauses to wet his lips and swallow. He continues slowly: “It hurt too much.”

John’s lips part at the revelation and all the anger drains from his body. He has never seen Sherlock more vulnerable and human. Even at the wedding during his speech or when he uttered those words through the hotel door to stop James from committing suicide. 

We wouldn’t do that to John, would we?

“Sherlock…” John tries to find the words and fails.So many thoughts race through his mind. All the feelings he’d had when big things happened and he didn’t hear so much as a whisper from Sherlock. He assumed Sherlock didn’t care and simply continued on as if he had never known John. It made him furious until he reminded himself that he had made no effort to contact the detective either. Now he knows that Sherlock knew nothing of it. He knew nothing and for all these years. God, John was such a fool.

“It’s fine, John,” Sherlock’s voice, now at normal volume and sounding very collected. “It’s all fine. I’ll keep my distance. We don’t have to interact simply because our daughters are friends.”

“What? No,” John blurts when Sherlock starts to move away. “No, Sherlock, that’s not… Look, I’m sorry.”

Sherlock’s brows raise in quiet surprise and he opens his mouth to speak, but John continues before he can utter a word.

“I shouldn’t have…” John presses his lips together and inhales deeply, struggling to find the words. “I just assumed… I shouldn’t have done.”

“It is a fair assumption, John,” Sherlock straightens, his tone matter of fact. “It follows logically given your experience and knowledge of me.”

“Yeah, well, maybe my knowledge of you is incomplete,” John says. He glances down and shifts his weight. “Let’s...sit down. Over there. That one’s empty.”

John points to a bench and looks up at the detective. His cupid’s bow turns up into the beginnings of a smile and he nods, taking the first step.

The two men spend the rest of the afternoon on that bench. Olive and Gracie interrupt periodically for snacks and drinks of water. The girls regale them with stories of their adventures in the park or events from school and then run back to play. John and Sherlock talk almost non-stop when they are on their own; stories about the girls as babies and toddlers, and as they started school. It is clear that neither Mary nor Sherlock’s...wife? was in the picture from the very beginning, but neither man says why or even behaves as though it should be explained. Still, John cannot believe the woman, whoever she is, has been entirely absent. So where is she? He does not ask Sherlock though, not wanting to nose in and after a while, John stops wondering where Olive came from and just accepts that it has always been she and Sherlock in 221B.

Naturally, John asks after his other friends. Greg is the head of the whole crime division now and actually assigns his Chief Inspectors to work with Sherlock. He has never remarried, but has cohabited, as Sherlock puts it, for the last five years. Molly runs the morgue, so Sherlock still sees quite a bit of her too. She married a bloke named Alex a couple of years after John left and has a four year old Olive adores. Unfortunately, Sherlock doesn’t see much of Mike Stamford, but he was well and happy the last Sherlock knew. Mycroft is as irritating as ever and that’s all he will say on the subject. Mrs. Hudson is still rattling around 221A and would love to see John, who just nods and asks if she’s still stuffing Sherlock with biscuits. 

Before they know it, the afternoon has slipped into evening and the girls have returned with demands of dinner.

“I’m sorry to keep you for so long,” John says, hurriedly glancing at his watch. “We meant to leave an hour ago. I’m sure you have plans.”

“We’re having dinner with Mrs. H,” Olive rubs her hands together and licks her lips. “She’s making a roast with potatoes and then we’re going to make the birthday cake.”

“Oh, dear,” John remarks playfully. “We can’t have you missing out on all that.”

“Dad,” Gracie pulls on his hand impatiently, “did you schedule our playdate? Is it next weekend?”

“Uh… Well, no,” John replies, suddenly off balance. Seeing Sherlock is one thing, catching up has been fantastic, but going back to the flat.. John isn’t ready for that. He’s honestly not sure he will ever be.

“Dad,” Gracie complains.

“It would be no trouble,” Sherlock tells him and Olive nods emphatically. “We’d love to have her.”

“No,” John answers on impulse before he can think better of it.

“What? Why?” Gracie demands.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” John continues looking at Sherlock and then turns his attention to his daughter. “I’d like to get to know Olive’s dad a little better.”

A man he used to know so well, John thinks sadly. Was it his imagination or had Sherlock flinched at that? Damn it if the man can’t still read minds.

“But you talked all afternoon,” Gracie states with irritation and stomps her foot.

“Gracie,” John says sternly and she stops, looking at him in frustration. “We’ll talk about this later. Say goodbye to Olive.”

Gracie watches him a moment and then sighs in resignation. She steps forward and hugs the taller girl, who wraps her arms around her. They both say goodbye, Gracie in disappointment and John swears he hears Olive whisper ‘We’ll have a playdate soon enough, if I have anything to do with it’. The two girls part, Sherlock and John bid each other farewell, and each pair heads off in opposite directions.

Given the time, John and Gracie stop for takeaway on the way home. Gracie does not ask about the playdate or John’s decision until they are at the table with steaming plates of food. Once she does broach the topic though, she jumps in without preamble.

“So why can’t we have a playdate?” Gracie asks around a mouthful of nargisi kofta.

John lets out a deep sigh from between his lips and looks up at the ceiling for a moment. He really does not want to explain the whole situation and past with Sherlock Holmes, but has to say something that will satisfy her. He needs time to work through this. John had decided never to see Sherlock again and, up until a few short hours ago, would have upheld it. That is no longer an option and so many memories still flood back, but not things they did together. He thinks about those often enough, whenever he tells Gracie one of his bedtime stories for one. No, these are sensory memories. Sherlock’s smooth voice and ever-changing eyes, his scent and what it feels like to touch him, his sense of humor and his laugh. John is awash with feelings and sensations that he cannot possibly explain to Gracie right now. He can’t even make sense of them himself at the moment.

“You can, eventually,” John answers lamely. He would roll his eyes if he could keep Gracie from seeing.

“You said you needed to meet Olive’s dad,” Gracie says in her voice of logic. “Now you’ve met him.”

“I didn’t say you could have a playdate immediately after I met him,” John tells her. It’s true, but definitely a technicality.

“Don’t you like him?” Gracie chews on some naan.

“I like him just fine, Gracie,” John replies quickly.

“Then what’s the problem?” she picks up her glass of milk and drinks.

“I just need some time,” John finally says, unable to think of anything else. Gracie frowns and looks at him. Obviously not the response she expected and John rushes to say something that makes more sense. “I know we’ve been here a while, but it’s still all so new. Just give me a chance to get used to things, yeah?”

“Okay,” Gracie says easily after some consideration and John sighs with relief internally. She replaces her glass on the table and scoops up a forkful of matar paneer. “Having Olive for my best friend helped a lot. Maybe her dad could be your best friend.”

John sits motionless as she stuffs the fork in her mouth and begins chewing. He blinks once and the corner of his mouth lifts in the barest of smiles.

“Maybe,” is all he says before changing the subject.

***

“Dad finally met Gracie’s dad today!” Olive hoots as soon as she bursts through the door to Mrs. Hudson’s flat. The older woman throws up her hands, one holding a spoon, from where she stands in front of the stove.

“Well, thank goodness for that,” Mrs Hudson declares. She bends so Olive can give her a kiss. “Do you have your playdate all scheduled then?”

“No. Her dad didn’t want to plan it yet,” Olive answers only a little disappointed now. “But we’ll have one. Mark my words.”

“I don’t doubt it, dear,” Mrs. Hudson laughs as the girl runs to the loo to wash her hands. Mrs. Hudson glances in Sherlock’s direction as he silently walks into the room. “So you met someone new. He as charming as he sounds?”

“Rather,” Sherlock says with suspicion and Mrs. Hudson looks at him directly, knowing the tone of voice well. “Has Olive mentioned Gracie��s surname to you?”

“Well, no,” Mrs. Hudson raises her eyes to the top of the door frame in thought and then rests her hands on her hips. “I don’t think she knows what it is. Surnames aren’t exactly important to children.”

“Watson,” Sherlock states plainly.

“Gracie Watson?” Mrs. Hudson asks, astonished. “And her father is a doctor. John?”

“The very same,” Sherlock nods. Mrs. Hudson stares in silence for a moment until she clasps her hands together, the spoon clutched between the two of them.

“Well, isn’t that just wonderful?” she beams at Sherlock. “After all these years. Fate has pulled you two boys together again.”

“Mm. Is it?” Sherlock mutters, ignoring her last comment and moving past her. He begins picking up glasses to fill with beverages.

“Sherlock, why on earth would you say that?” the old woman asks in disbelief.

“It wasn’t exactly a happy reunion,” Sherlock pours milk in Olive’s glass.

“Even so,” Mrs. Hudson stops abruptly at the sound of Olive’s footsteps running for them. The woman glances to see her coming and quietly scolds the younger man. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Dinner passes quickly enough with story after story from Olive about playing in the park with Gracie and how they started making up their own Nancy Drew mystery to act out. In no time at all, Sherlock and Olive are headed up the stairs to make Mycroft’s birthday cake. Olive brushes her teeth and changes into pajamas once it is in the oven and is asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.

Sherlock pours two glasses of scotch and waits for his landlady to appear. Mrs. Hudson may doze off in front of the telly half the time, but never when she has promised Sherlock a talking to. It gives him some time to sort through his thoughts and he shudders as he begins to re-examine the afternoon’s conversation. John believed Sherlock knew all the details of his life and chose to ignore him. Sherlock is not the least bit surprised John noticed Mycroft’s spies. The doctor was always more perceptive than he was given credit for, even by Sherlock. Given the circumstances, John’s initial reaction makes perfect sense. 

Sherlock sighs heavily. Part of him wishes he had let Mycroft inform on John. Surely giving John the chance to spurn his efforts to contact him would have been preferable to the feeling of being ignored. Sherlock certainly would have preferred his own rejection to inflicting it upon John, even unwittingly. His shoulders sag the more he thinks and he leans into his chair. John and Gracie are alone. There is no Rosie, no Mary and Sherlock has no idea why. John wasn’t exactly forthcoming either. What could have happened? Sherlock could guess, but he doesn’t want to. The same way he didn’t read it all off John the moment he saw him, despite the temptation. He wants John to tell him himself. He wants John to want him to know, and to trust him again.

Sherlock blinks once and tries to focus on something else, like all the stories John shared about Gracie growing up, but he keeps coming back to the thought of John believing himself rejected. If Sherlock had known, if he had known any of what John had been through, he would not have been able to stop himself from reaching out. He knew Mary was the reason John had left. She was finished with London and the surgery, but mostly with Sherlock. She had enough of John running off on cases once they were married. She knew she couldn’t escape Mycroft watching her movements, but she could get rid of Sherlock. Shooting him didn’t work, so she left and John went with her. He had never acknowledged Sherlock after that. Sherlock thought it was pride or maybe that John was tired of him too. Now he knows that John thought Sherlock didn’t want to hear from him and it breaks his heart.

A noise from the hall reaches Sherlock’s ears and he shifts his gaze to the doorway as Mrs. Hudson appears. He gestures to Olive’s, formerly John’s, chair with the hand not holding the scotch. Mrs. Hudson walks to it silently and sits opposite him. She plucks up the glass he placed on the side table for her and takes a sip. Smiling and closing her eyes, Mrs. Hudson leans back against the soft red cushions and exhales deeply. She does not speak, which surprises Sherlock until the oven timer sounds. He rises, sets down his glass on the desk and heads for the kitchen. He checks the cake with a toothpick as he promised Olive, knowing she will investigate its surface for the holes. He picks up the pan with oven mitts and places it on a cooling rack.

When he returns to the sitting room and picks up his scotch glass, Mrs. Hudson looks at him and motions for him to sit this time. He smirks slightly and does, stretching out his long legs and crossing his ankles.

“All done, is it?” his landlady asks companionably, referring to the cake. Sherlock nods once in reply. “Good. Did you know he is Gracie’s father?”

“No,” Sherlock says with shame. “I should have worked it out. Olive told me they just moved here, but that her father lived here before. I knew he was a doctor. It’s just… I never thought he would come back. I never thought I’d see him again and didn’t even consider the possibility.”

“It’s okay, Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson smiles at him kindly. “Life surprises us sometimes. Even the ones who are brilliant.”

They pause a moment, sipping their drinks and marinating in what has been said.

“Now what’s all this about John’s return not being good news?” Mrs. Hudson sits up a little straighter. “Is it Mary?”

“No. He wouldn’t be here if she was with him,” Sherlock said ruefully, taking another drink.

“Where is she?” Mrs. Hudson asks curiously while swirling her glass absently.

“I don’t know,” Sherlock replies. “He didn’t say anything about her. Not even in the context of raising Gracie. She may not even be Mary’s child.”

“Well, what about their baby?” Mrs. Hudson brings her glass to her lips. “Gracie has an older sister.”

Sherlock sighs and looks at the floor. This might be the thing that hurts the most. He obviously had no concept of parental love or the joy a child brings before Olive, but now he can easily imagine John’s pain at losing Rosie.

“Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson says slowly, her eyes reading his every movement. “Oh, Sherlock, no.”

“Yes,” he says simply. “I don’t know when or how, but she is gone.”

“Oh, dear. Poor John,” Mrs. Hudson whispers.

A few minutes pass and Sherlock suddenly finds himself telling her all about their afternoon in the park. He starts with the moment he saw John across the way, standing like a statue and Gracie running for them. Not a detail is left unsaid and by the time he is finished, Mrs. Hudson is leaning forward in her seat with rapt attention.

“So you only talked about the girls,” she states hesitantly as if testing the water. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else,” Sherlock answers, placing his empty glass on the floor next to his chair. “Well, he asked after Greg and Molly. I told him about you and Mycroft as well.”

“I hate to think what you said about him,” Mrs. Hudson mutters almost to herself. She looks at her wayward son with caring eyes. “Did you mention Jessie?”

“No,” Sherlock says quickly, rising to his feet and pacing. He stops at the window and gazes out over Baker Street. 

Able to tell after all these years when her boy has shut himself off, Mrs. Hudson sighs and places her glass on the side table where she found it as she stands. She walks over to the tall man and puts a hand on his arm.

“You’ll have to eventually, Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson tells him gently. “He’ll have to know where Olive came from sometime.”

Sherlock’s gaze darts to hers and asks why, but he already knows the answer. There is no avoiding it. Mrs. Hudson gives him a squeeze.

“Good night, dear,” she says and walks out of the room. Sherlock hears the door to the flat open and close quietly. He turns back to the window and watches the movement on the pavement and streets. Soon he is playing his violin, the music like a soundtrack to his life. Sherlock closes his eyes to listen and consider what to do next. The image of John’s face is the only one he can see.

---

What did you think?? They finally meet and sparks fly, both in fury and fondness. Throw in a little fear, a little angst and you have the perfect Jane Johnlock story. A friend suggested I call my works Jane's Addiction, but I'm pretty sure that's under copyright. Lol. Apt description though.

Thank you all for your love and support and encouragement! I love you all. Keep you pants dry and your dreams wet, and remember, hugs not drugs. Love, Jane

@johnlock-rocks

[feelingsdusk-writes]

Fides

Chapter 4

It’s cloudy and gloomy outside and it matches how Stiles feels this morning, yet again with divided feelings plaguing him.

His dad came home so late yesterday (or so early today, depending on how you look at it) that Stiles had already put the man’s dinner plate in the fridge, tidied everything and gone to bed. Admittedly, when his dad arrived, he was still awake finishing an essay, because the experiments with Eglantine had taken so long that not only couldn’t they start the rune lessons, but he was late getting started with homework too. He could have faced his dad and gotten the unavoidable confrontation out of the way, but he had so much stewing anger inside that he felt things would have gotten out of hand, so he decided to feign being asleep. Part of him was relieved that he came home late, the other part was everything but that. And now it’s morning, he’s had to get up earlier to finish that essay and his anger is still there.

It gets worse.

His dad messes his hair as he goes to pour himself a coffee and proceeds to act as if nothing happened yesterday, as if a brownie is enough to apologize for that. He knows, okay? His dad has never been a man of words, he’s always been one of action. If he messes up, he fixes it, and if that’s not an option, he makes up for it and tries to never make that mistake again. No excuses, no explanations, he owns his mistake and becomes better out of the ordeal. It’s the trait that made his mom fall in love with him, what gained him his friends, what made him become such a good investigator, and what made him climb the ladder in his job until he became the sheriff.

Something in that philosophy broke where Stiles is concerned since his mom died.

Because a lot of the things that Stiles has received these past years to make up for it don’t, in fact, make up for it, just like a silent brownie doesn’t make up for what happened yesterday. Because sometimes things have to be talked about, just like dirty wounds need to be flushed to heal, no matter how uncomfortable or painful the process is. The thing is, though, Stiles has tried to tell him that before and it didn’t work. His dad would get that pinched and then empty expression Stiles knows all too well that hides an ocean of pain and sadness for the loss of his wife; then he’d sit across from Stiles, facing the situation like one would face a firing squad, and talk to him like Stiles wasn’t the only fully functioning adult (in a manner of speaking) there at the time. And when that changed, their talks didn’t get any better.

It’s been a long time since he tried last.

And that’s going to remain that way. Stiles has tried already (many, many times in fact), his dad has to make an effort too. Stiles is also a man (boy) of action, the thought of having to talk about feelings almost makes him break out in hives, but at least he tries. Because not being good at something necessary doesn’t exempt you from doing it. Besides, how are you going to get any better at it if you don’t even…

Stiles sighs inwardly, getting up to wash his cereal bowl. He goes upstairs to brush his teeth before leaving and then enters his room to grab his bag.

“Stiles!” Odette waves madly, her blond pigtails hitting the redhead beside him, when Stiles leans over the terrarium to let them know he’s leaving. The only four remaining kids of the colony are in a semicircle with Eglantine in front of them, obviously in the middle of a lesson. “Which star can be used to work out where is North?”

“Odette!” Eglantine admonishes as two passing girls with their arms full snicker. “You can't ask Stiles what I’m quizzing you about.”

“In the northern hemisphere, the North Star or Polaris. In the southern hemisphere you use the two stars that form the long axis of The Southern Cross to find south and go the opposite way.”

“Stiles!” Eglantine admonishes him too as the kids giggle, even Ehaldun, which Stiles counts as a personal victory. She sighs, long-suffering, but with a fond smile. “Leaving for school?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna see the stars,” Odette pipes and the rest of the kids look excited.

“Can we?” Ehaldun asks shyly, to Stiles’ surprise.

“Yes, please!” the two remaining kids (Kendel and Rhenalyrr, and Stiles is starting to have problems remembering all the bizarre names) join in hopefully, which officially marks the descent of Eglantine’s lesson into chaos.

“KIDS!” Eglantine finally exclaims as Stiles puts his converse on. What she says next makes him pause. “You know we can’t go outside right now, it’s too dangerous. It’s going to have…”

That’s right. Effectively speaking, for these fairies the terrarium is a prison as much as it’s a safe place. True, they can move around Stiles’ room, but they were used to living in the forest, where they could roam around as they pleased, even if they had to be careful. Not only that, but their colony, as in the physical place, was probably at least ten times bigger than the terrarium because it had to house about three hundred fairies as opposed to their current twenty-four.

He sighs inwardly.

“Hey there,” he waves as he looks at them from above again, cutting the protests that are still going on. “If you behave, I’ll show you the constellations here, inside. It won’t be the same, but I promise it will be really cool and you will be able to see them all.”

“Really?” Odette gasps, echoed my Kendel. Ehaldun looks hopeful and Rhenalyrr mildly skeptic. “But mama says you can’t see them all!”

“You promise?” Ehaldun asks softly.

“How are you gonna do that?” Rhenalyrr demands, getting her long black hair out of her face impatiently.

“Magic?” Kendel pipes.

“But he doesn’t know how to yet,” Rhenalyrr scoffs, making Kendel blink surprised.

“No, I don’t,” Stiles intervenes before everything gets out of hand again. “But as if I’d let something like that stop me. I promise you I’ll show you the constellations if you behave and promise to not go outside. If you don’t keep your end of the bargain, the deal is off. Remember that outside you’re not going to see every constellation, and that’s if you even see any at all, with how cloudy it is today. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal,” they answer. First, almost instantly, Odette and Ehaldun, then, after some consideration, Rhenalyrr and Kendel follows shortly after the brunette nods.

“Later then!”

—

Mostly, the day drags its metaphorical feet. News about how the twins got suspended is out, or what he suspects is a heavily edited version in any case, because his classmates are being very aggressively silent. He ignores them (which actually means that he keeps an eye on them while it outwardly looks like he’s ignoring them, as per usual) and uses any spare moment he has to prepare the base he’s going to use to create the constellations map for later. With the whole weekend ahead of them, hopefully things will calm down, but if they don’t, Stiles will deal with it and that’s it.

“I’m home!” he calls as he enters the house. He makes some small talk with the guards as he goes to the kitchen to preheat the oven to bake a small chicken with a side of potatoes for dinner.

When he gets to his room, Odette glomps onto him and Ehaldun follows. Stiles can spy Rhenalyrr and Kendel sticking their little heads over the edge of the terrarium, trying (and failing) to be inconspicuous. His lips twitch with mirth.

“Stars?” Ehaldun pipes hopefully.

“Did you keep your end of the bargain?”

“We did!” comes from the two hiding kids as the two in front of him nod enthusiastically.

“They did,” Eglantine corroborates fondly before she adds mischievously. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Stiles tips her an imaginary hat to that before getting his attention back to the kids. “Then you’ll get the stars… but when it’s dark, of course. That’s when stars can be seen after all.” He grins inwardly at the groans and pouts that earns him and goes to change into something more comfortable. “I’m gonna prepare everything for dinner and start the timer for the chicken. Then we can start?”

“Sure, that sounds good to me. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Cool.”

When he finishes, Stiles brings the timer with him so he doesn’t miss the alarm. He leans back over the pillows of his bed for the first lesson, since it’s going to be a purely theoretical one. He keeps his laptop on his lap to take notes as she speaks. Eglantine sits on the edge of the screen to be more comfortable too, and they start. Odette and Ehaldun barrel in but settle for laying on his head, of all places, when their mother threatens to ground them to the terrarium if they don’t behave.

"So," she starts after a moment of consideration, as if she's gauging what level of density in her lecture Stiles will be able to stand. "The very basics first. Fairies can use two different types of magic: the innate one and the runic one. The first one is instinctual and is what lets us perform nature magic, which we use to fly, make plants grow and so on and so on. However, this one isn't really useful for you, since you won't be able to use it anyways, so I won't go much into detail." When she sees Stiles' curious expression she elaborates, her lips twitching in amusement. "For flying it's a mixture of gravity, temperature and wind manipulation, while using our wings to navigate-"

"Like birds?"

"Not exactly," she denies, as if the giggles from the peanut gallery perched upon his head weren't answer enough. Stiles rolls his eyes in response and Eglantine smiles fondly at her children's antics. "Because, as you can see, our wings are not the same. We don't have feathers, our wings are more... membranes in a way? The closest thing to it that I can think of, is if you thought of a hummingbird in terms of the speed we move them at to keep us up when stationary... And as Delta wings when we are moving and using the wind to our advantage, which is most of the time. That's actually where the manipulation comes in, because we can use it to move the air to create a current in an enclosed space or to make it denser with the temperature to help us go up."

"And gravity?"

"That's a constant thing, to make it easier to fly, we intensify it when we are stationary. But as I said, this is instinctual, we don't actually have to know how it works to use it, we just have to want it."

"So it's a question of intent?"

"Exactly. To make plants grow we'd manipulate earth, water and sun elements... but, in the end, we just have to want it to grow up. Of course, there are limitations to what we can do, and in more ways than one at that. Each kind of fairy has its strengths, after all, and since we are wood fairies, our affinities would be everything that's connected to it."

"So plants?"

"Plant life and we have a connection with woodland creatures. We can manipulate water and earth to an extent too, because it's related, but we'd never reach the proficiency of, say, an earth or a water fairy respectively."

"Earth and water fairies..." Stiles muses thoughtfully. "Are there any others?"

"Sun fairies would be the last." She laughs at his surprised expression. "You look like you were expecting more."

"I was kinda expecting, I don't know, fire, wind, ice?"

"Well, I've heard that humans in the know think sun fairies are fire fairies because of their exclusive ability to control fire, so I'll give you that. But the others? All of us control wind to one extent or another (sun ones would be the most proficient and water ones the least, in this case) and ice is frozen water, so you can guess which of us controls it."

"Water fairies!" Odette exclaims happily.

"Exactly, dear. But we're deviating, I think."

"Just one more thing?" Stiles pleads, deeply interested.

"Ask away," she nods smiling.

"So what's the difference between your kind and earth fairies? Can't they control plants?"

"They can, but not to the extent that we do, they would need to cooperate with a water and sun fairy to do something that we do easily... But then again, we can't create golems or do some things they do either, so it's not like we are the strongest of the fairies or anything. I'd say we are the most versatile? It's been speculated more than once that wood fairies were born after the three lines mixed at some point in the past, because the records and stories don't go as far in time for us as they do with them," she adds as an afterthought. "But back to topic now."

"Sorry," Stiles apologizes sheepishly.

"Don't be." She smiles openly. "I don't mind explaining at all, it's just that we have a tight schedule right now with everything that's happening and I'd rather that you have the basics as early as possible and then revisit this topic later if you're still interested."

"Sure, I'd like that, thanks." He smiles back at her. "You were saying you had more limitations? Or is that too off-topic too?"

"No, actually, this you should know because of the circumstances, I think," she says seriously. "The more fairies there are in a colony and the nearer they are to each other, the stronger their magic is and vice versa. The presence of sparks and druids can serve as support and an amplifier, though in the case of druids they have to be practicing a ritual, not just by being present like with sparks." Then seeing Stiles about to open his mouth to ask, she clarifies. "That's because druids only have the ability to draw magic from around them (and mostly through rituals) while sparks have their own innate magic too."

"So sparks are stronger?"

"Technically, yes."

"Technically?"

"Well, having all the power of the world is useless if you can't harness and control it."

"So, potential means nothing if you don't do anything with it?"

"Exactly," she nods. "So back to our limitations right now. I'm going to give you a couple of examples so that you can understand the extent it goes to for us. First: seeing we were (and still are) so low in number and that we were pretty low on energy too back then, it took all of us to make the Pothos grow enough to trap you that very first day. Another example would be that when you took me to your school, I had to use your presence to help my stamina last the whole trip alone without exhausting myself."

"Well, that sucks," Stiles mutters. "And there's nothing you can do to change that?"

"As in an immediate remedy, you mean?" Stiles nods. "We would have to join another fairy colony and after a period of adaptation we would be back to normal. But that's not feasible, so we're stuck with growing our numbers little by little. Your presence has bought us time, in any case, so we're far better than we could have been. Thanks for that too, by the way."

"Ah, you're... welcome, I guess?" he says fidgeting, deeply uncomfortable.

The alarm for the chicken chooses to go off right then and Stiles sighs inwardly, relieved to escape because he's never known how to take a compliment or any type of praise. He dashes downstairs and turns the chicken over quickly after checking its progress. He grabs a soda from the fridge before going back to his room. When he's crossing the threshold, he realizes that Odette and Ehaldun never left his head, which, given the silence, means they're probably completely asleep by now. He checks in the mirror and sure enough, they're curled like kittens in his hair. Stiles grins at Eglantine and she snickers.

"Want me to take them to bed?"

"Nah, leave them be. They're not bothering me at all," he says as he gets back on the bed and picks his laptop up. "So, innate magic and runic magic, right?"

"Yes," she nods. "We use runic magic for long-distance communication, warding, to strengthen our homes… so basically to satisfy some of the needs that our innate magic doesn’t cover. But you have to understand that without our innate magic the runic one wouldn’t work, because it needs that kickstart to work."

"So, if we're making a parallel, that means that druids can't use runic magic?"

"Not unless they tie it to a ritual, no," she explains. "Now, we have three different alphabets but we only use..."

Cross referencing what Eglantine teaches him, Stiles learns that fairies have three different runic alphabets: Elder Futhark and long-branch and short-twig Younger Futhark. They call them the Ancient, the Mystical and the Practical alphabets respectively.

The Ancient one is, like its name indicates, the oldest of them. Humans themselves stopped using that alphabet around the eighth century, but the fairies continued employing it until the twelfth. It consists of twenty-four different runes and a long time ago it was used for everything, from casting a spell to noting down a recipe or recording an official document. However, this is known only because of the knowledge passed mouth to mouth through generations, because no document remains of the time before the two other alphabets started being used. It was an abrupt change and whatever happened at that time that wiped all knowledge of how to perform magic with Elder Futhark is still a mystery nowadays. It baffles the fairies as much as it does Stiles, according to Eglantine, because the feeling that they have, thanks to little snippets of information about that time, is that it was strictly prohibited to even mention the incident back in the day, and since no one talked or wrote about it, the story was lost after the fairies that lived through it died. What’s even more baffling is that the alphabet itself was still taught even though it wasn’t used anymore, and it’s still that way nowadays.

Leaving that mystery aside, since the middle of the twelfth century approximately, the Mystical alphabet (long-branch Younger Futhark) has been used for magic and the Practical one (short-twig Younger Futhark) for everything else. Both of them consist of sixteen runes each and share some of them with each other and the Ancient alphabet, though the Mystical shares more with the Ancient than the Practical one.

Stiles is a little confused at this point, because looking at the letters that correspond to each rune, it just doesn’t match to the ones necessary to transcribe English in Futhark in any of the three alphabets. And these fairies speak exclusively in English, and fairies living in France speak French, and so on, but all of them share the same runes (which is a mystery in itself). So how? It turns out that the fairies do like the Japanese and they write the word phonetically to match the runes they have, whatever the language they speak in where they live, which means that if he were to read a text written by a French fairy, even if they used the same runes, it wouldn’t make any sense to him. To make it even worse, if that isn’t complicated enough, each rune, apart from the letter they represent, also means something else: sun, water, air and so on. Here it gets really perplexing because those meanings don’t match the ones the human historians gave them. And at this point Stiles simply gives up trying to cross reference everything and just takes what Eglantine is teaching him at face value.

At least for now, because his head might explode if he continues going in circles like this, so he is just going to concentrate on learning the three alphabets and their meanings according to the fairies until he has them down pat. Besides, Lorelle and Aelfdene won’t allow him to advance more until that happens anyway, just like they would do with any fledgling starting to learn.

“It’s still early if you want Lorelle to start today too,” she says when she finishes her lesson.

“Yeah, I’d prefer that,” he nods. “But can you take a look at this first?” he asks pointing at the screen, where there are three pictures with a different rune alphabet on each. “I was thinking of trying to write with them as I learn them.”

Stiles normally learns better with a more hands-on approach, so he thinks that practicing writing with them will speed up the process. Of course, this will not only help him memorize the runes but also gain a fluency that he feels he’s going to need when he gets to the part of actually doing magic with them.

“Hmmm…” she hums as she looks at each rune closely. “That’s actually a great idea, Stiles. We normally make the kids memorize them individually before we start them with words, then phrases, and so on. But if you think this works better for you… By all means, knock yourself out.”

“Cool. I’ll transcribe sentences to Mystical and Practical and you can check them over.” He plugs his phone into the laptop and minimizes the window that appears on the screen to let Eglantine continue with her inspection. “Are they ok? I can edit the pic to change them if not,” he tells her. “I’m going to keep an encrypted copy of these in my phone so I can practice in any spare moment I have at school.”

“They’re correct, Stiles, but are you sure that’s wise? There’s a hunter…”

“I’ve thought about that, but I feel like I’m against time here, to be honest. I know that she doesn’t seem to suspect me, but I don’t know… I just feel rushed for some reason and I don’t like being defenseless, so the sooner I get this and move on onto the magic part, the better. In any case, I’m not gonna risk it, Eglantine. If I feel like I can be seen or sneaked on, I won’t do it.”

He will be very careful about it. Not because of his peers, of course, because as it is he’s already the object of many incredulous and contemptuous stares in general. It happens at everything he does anyway, so he just shrugs it off and continues doing his thing… Even today when it has been especially intense after it got out that he’d gotten the very well liked and all around loved twins suspended. He’s not sure how that happened, because their parents dragged them to their car before any student arrived, but it’s obvious that some other students knew about it by the time first period started.

Stiles is starting to think that the twins either lack any kind of self-preservation instinct or they’re just plain stupid. Or maybe it’s both? So far they’ve clashed multiple times already and Stiles has either simply won or has gotten back so harshly and swiftly that he has rendered their victories to a fleeting moment of satisfaction followed by a crushing retaliation. He honestly doesn’t get how they haven’t gotten a Pavlovian response ingrained by now with how many times this has happened.

He really doesn’t care to know what lie they have told their clique to explain their suspension that has all of them glaring balefully at him from where they were congregated at the end of the classroom. The situation does bear watching (more so when the twins come back the Monday after the next), of course, because he’s not stupid but they are, and Stiles is not going to become a movie cliche casualty, or even fatality, just because he didn’t pay attention.

And he’s not going to become a fatality either because he was careless and got caught by a huntress who he knows is already there prowling around school and has him in her sights. And, sure, Sterling hadn’t approached him at all today after she left him at the cafeteria, when he expected her to hound him constantly, but that doesn’t actually mean he’s off the hook. Maybe she’s waiting for him to lower his guard? Or maybe she had been hounding him and he just hasn’t noticed? Even if neither of those are the case, he doesn’t know if she’s going to keep an eye on him herself or if there are other hunters he doesn’t know of around school that are going to watch him in her place. Moreover, Stiles has no way of finding out unless he spies on her, which no, not happening. Being honest with himself, the truth is that he struggled to even hold minimal control of a conversation in a friendly setting with her and that he didn’t even hear her approach when she caught him on the stairs, even though he was expecting her and was alert. If those aren’t enough proofs of how that’s the worst idea in the planet, he doesn’t know what would be.

The whole situation is making him wary as hell, because it feels like the calm before the storm and that’s nerve-wracking, but it’s not like he can do anything else but be careful at the moment.

So no, no spying and super extra precaution in everything he does. First of all, no letting his grades slip and no skipping class or track practice, no matter how tempting that is. He’s never done it and it would draw too much attention. So if he wants extra time to study runes apart from what he already will do at home, it has to be at class. On that front, as a rule he normally sits where he can’t be seen from outside the classroom, but if he’s forced to change seats or to work in pairs, practicing is out. He can’t do it at the cafeteria at lunch or at the library either, because he could be sneaked up on very easily.

All in all, if he squeezes half an hour of extra practice at school, which is not much but at least it’s something, he’ll consider himself lucky. Normally he wouldn’t risk it at all for just a measly half an hour, but there’s a threat pending over the fairies and him, and if Sterling attacks, he wants to have at least an ace under his sleeve to buy himself some time.

Sometimes the tiniest things are what make the difference, after all.

Like, for example, cutting holes on pieces of cardboard to place around a lamp making the light coming out of those little punctures project the entire map of constellations on his walls and ceiling, so that the twenty-four fairies that come out of his terrarium at the spectacle miss being outside a little less.

—

The day the twins come back, Stiles walks into the classroom and he doesn’t pay attention at first, which is a mistake he thought himself too intelligent to make. He’s too focused on mentally going over what’s he’s learnt so far again and again, because Lorelle and Aelfdene are going to test his knowledge on runes just as he hits home after track practice. All the intense practice over the last week and a half has paid off, and while there’s still room for improvement on his writing speed, he doesn’t make mistakes tracing them or about their meanings anymore, which are the most important things. So he told the elders before leaving for school and they agreed to test him to see if he can advance and be taught about how fairies use the Mystical ones to raise wards and to communicate with them. He knows it probably won’t work for him, because he’s a spark, not a fairy, but it will at least give him some pointers on how it works. Still, he’s pretty exited and he doesn’t want to mess it up, hence the manic mental revising.

So he’s not paying attention, but he’s brought back to Earth when a couple of snickers reach his ears disrupting the grave-worthy silence he hadn’t noticed before. From the door, he looks around his classroom, careful to keep his face neutral, and he finds every single one of his classmates staring at him. The only seat available is directly in front of the teacher’s desk, right in the middle of the first row. It’s just a childish retaliation, but for a moment he has a strong sense of deja vu that leaves him really unsettled.

The twins snicker again when he sits, and in retrospect, Stiles should have seen it coming.

Over the day, he gets numerous muttered insults and spitballs to the head in each class, his locker gets forced open and his lunch nearly lands all over himself after a timely smack. He almost skips Track practice, his anger already through the roof, but in the end he refuses to give them the satisfaction. He gets a pair of skinned knees, a badly twisted ankle and a visit to the nurse for his troubles. The twisted ankle is bad enough that they call his dad to pick him up. Anderson is the one who comes. His bike is nowhere to be seen when they go to pick it up.

After three days full of this kind of treatment, Stiles finally finds a way to retaliate that not only will not get him caught, but also will make his classmates think twice about continuing with the bullying. To his horror, not only does it not work, but it makes it worse instead. Stiles tries again days later, hoping it’s just a fluke, but not even involving their parents works and they get even more vicious, so he has to retreat to think about his options.

Stiles refuses to let the bullies walk over him. He did that the first time he was bullied so badly, hoping that they would get tired and leave him alone, but that never happened. It’s not going to be different now. But what can he do? Whatever the lie is that the twins have told the rest of his classmates (and they then to their siblings too), it has painted them as the victims and Stiles as a bully that needs to be taken down. In other words, they are united with a cause and everything he does just serves to validate their views and justify their actions. And the days go on.

To add to his frustration, he passed Lorelle and Aelfdene’s test (to the man's chagrin), and got instructed on fairy runic magic, but that was as far as he got. Two weeks after Beriadan and Aelfwine finished teaching him and he’s gotten nowhere, partly because everyone is so focused on him (going as far as calling him out to the teacher if he so much as tries anything non-class related) that he doesn’t dare to risk squeezing extra study time at school. Maybe he would have cracked the mystery with that extra time, maybe not, but he’s irritated beyond belief with the stagnation of the progress with his magic. The thing is that while the theory is pretty simple (two to four runes placed in an array in a certain, specific way that are activated with a pulse of innate magic), the practice is not so much, and he still hasn’t found a way to activate it. The elders, well, pretty much every fairy in one way or another, have reminded him that they expected this, that they knew when they started that the way fairies use the runes wasn’t going to work for him. And yes, Stiles went in knowing all that, and maybe it’s because of the general shitty situation he’s in now, but it’s hitting him hard.

All in all, Stiles is frustrated, angry, hurting and doesn’t know what to do. Nothing is going the way it should, and no matter what he does, that doesn’t change. He supposes he should be happy that Sterling seems to have forgotten about him, but it’s just making his skin crawl and he keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. So with everything that’s going on, nearly three weeks into the bullying, he's, embarrassingly enough, almost at his limit. Only his pride is keeping him up at this point, because he refuses to give them the satisfaction of seeing him crumble. But pride will only take him so far, and he has to find a solution.

Pronto.

(Telling his dad about the bullying never even crosses his mind.)

—

A month after the exam debacle, Stiles learns why Sterling hasn’t been prowling around him entirely by accident and revulsion doesn’t even begin to cover what he feels.

It’s all the twins’ fault.

With how things have been going lately, Stiles has no other choice but to make do with surviving the present and for that he has to focus on the silver linings, such as finishing school early today because he finished Mr. Andrews’ test with nearly half the time to spare and because he suspects the man still feels guilty about what happened. All in all, for once avoiding his classmates at the entrance as he leaves sounds like heaven.

He ignores the dirty looks as he grabs his backpack and then groans inwardly when Mr. Andrews reminds him that Coach wanted to talk to him. He still has to give his Track coach the slip the doctor gave him to justify his absence from practice for a while, until his ankle heals. Which, regretfully, means he can’t avoid everyone like he wanted, because the man will keep him for at least half an hour listening to him as he berates Stiles about not being careful and getting injured in the stupidest way possible and about being irresponsible and not taking care of himself with regionals just around the corner and what the hell is he doing that he hasn’t recovered already?

(If they didn’t keep on pushing him and tripping him and many other things, he would already have, thank you very much.)

So much for silver linings, because the man is not even in his office. After waiting for ten minutes, Stiles just places the envelope on the desk and leaves. He’s hurrying to the entrance, his ankle protesting at the effort, when he overhears two girls giggling in the toilet about how his classmates are preparing something for him and how he deserves everything he gets. Stiles doesn’t hear what exactly, but he doesn’t wait to hear more. He’s halfway to the entrance and class is about to finish. He realizes that with his injury he’s going to get caught for sure, so he takes what others would think is the cowardly route and just hides on the rooftop. Climbing the stairs with his injured ankle is precisely what he shouldn’t be doing but it can't be worse for it than being unintentionally stomped on by a ninth grader (coincidentally one of his classmate’s brother) at lunch, so he does it anyway. He picks the lock to open the door to the rooftop and then locks it behind him for good measure. Then he sits out of direct sight from the door and just breathes.

Now he just has to wait for the buses to leave and for the rest of the kids to be picked up. And even if some of them walk home, he doubts they’ll wait more than half an hour or they’ll risk being grounded by their parents. He hopes so at least. In any case, it’s not like his dad is going to notice him being late if he’s not even at home, so if he has to hide for an hour or two, he’ll just do it. He has a notepad, pens and a magic system to crack, so he’s not going to get bored, that’s for sure.

So, undoubtedly, it’s all the twins’ fault.

It’s their fault that Stiles is hiding on the rooftop, where the rules say that he can’t be, when the door opens and closes, not even ten minutes after class finished.

It’s their fault that he’s hiding on the rooftop with a page full of his own variations of the fairy arrays that he’s trying to make work when he recognizes Sterling’s voice.

It’s their fault that he’s hiding on the rooftop when, as he crawls to hide inside the dirtiest cranny ever, which, to make things worse, is full of spiders, he sees a teenager follow her.

It’s their fault that he’s hiding on the rooftop with spiders crawling all over him, hearing Sterling playfully manipulate said teenager, who looks not even a day older than fifteen years old and isn’t noticing any of the things that are making Stiles cringe.

Something lands on his cheek and then he feels it crawling towards his eye. He reflexively bats it away with a sharp intake of air and then he contains his breath terrified, heart thundering in his chest, when he hears the pair stop. He prays, prays and prays that they haven’t heard him, because it’s impossible, right? They haven’t, they surely haven’t. On his hand, one of the arrays starts to glow, then burns through the paper it’s written on and Stiles has to bite his lips to contain a whimper as it burns into the skin of his wrist too.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Sterling croons sweetly and the flirty tone is nauseating. Their whole conversation reminds Stiles of those first dates in cheesy love movies, when the couple is too shy to even kiss and they flirt awkwardly with each other.

“I thought I heard…” The teen sounds shy, insecure, and Stiles’ stomach is doing somersaults by now because the whole situation feels wrong. “I-I… Nothing,” he stammers almost too softly for Stiles to hear. “I’m still a bit…”

“Don’t apologize!” she croons. “You’ve been sick almost a month, it’s normal to be a little out of it on your first week back.”

The whole ninety-six minutes and forty-five seconds they’re there, they never even kiss that he can tell, but it leaves a sour taste in his mouth and an almost compulsive need to call his dad before there’s more to report than an inappropriate relationship between a teacher and a student.

It’s torture. There’s almost no light inside the cranny and the urge to squirm with nerves is almost irresistible, but he’s so terrified of getting caught that he doesn’t dare to breath too loudly or alter his position even an inch. His legs have been asleep for at least ten minutes, his wrist is burning and he’s feeling so dizzy that he’s seeing spots even though it’s dark, and he didn’t know that was possible.

And it’s all the twins’ fault.

By the time they leave it takes Stiles another ten minutes to get his legs to work enough to crawl out of hiding, breath harsh. Stiles can recognize the beginning of a panic attack. He used to have them when his mother died, especially when he was being bullied within an inch of his life, but he stopped having them when he took the reins back and decided to stop being a victim and to start being a survivor instead. Today he’s been insulted, manhandled and then nearly pushed down a flight of stairs, which he’s pretty sure that the math teacher saw but did nothing about because it ended just as an attempt. On top of that, a huntress that would kill him if she knew he’s a spark and hiding the fairies that she possibly failed to kill, has turned out to be attempting to seduce a teenager, which is wrong in itself, but since she’s a huntress there has to be more to it and that means he has to do something about it, lest it splashes on him. Oh, and his magic worked but he doesn’t know how, and there’s an array still making his wrist burn and his hand tremble. It’s too much.

He tries every technique he knows to control it and fails time and again. With each failed attempt, he gets worse and worse. He curls into a ball and his forehead gets scratched with the concrete. It takes him ten minutes to notice that he isn’t actually having a panic attack but instead working himself into one because he thinks he’s having one. The harsh breath, the full-body trembling, the spots in his vision, the sweating, the dizziness, the fast heartbeat; all those things were there before he added panic to the mix.

It’s too late by then.

—

“-les!”

“-iles!”

“-tiles! One more time, everyone!”

His body feels heavy. His tongue is dry, heavy and feels ten times too big in his mouth, as if it could choke him. His eyelids might as well weigh a ton because try as he might, he can’t open them.

Everything aches in a muted, detached way, as if it’s not his own body that hurts.

Stiles just wants to sleep.

“-tiles!”

“-elle, one more time! He’s almost there!”

“They’re coming back!

"Stiles, honey, please, open your eyes, pleaseleaseplease!”

“Wa?” Stiles slurs, vision unfocused and blurry. He doesn’t hear his own voice Well, it comes as if it's far, far away.

“There you go! Listen to me, love, you have to stop pushing energy into the array. Do you understand me?”

He doesn’t.

“Eglantine, let me. Stiles, listen to me. Remember our lessons? About how it felt like a flow, a stream leading to the array? Concentrate on your… No, look at me, don’t close your eyes. Concentrate on your arm. Right, here. Can you feel that?”

There’s a spike of pain on his arm that fades quickly. Stiles doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want to feel pain. He wants to sleep.

“Focus, Stiles. Eyes on me! That’s it. Focus on that and then cut it. Stop that flow and I promise the pain will stop. Your arm, Stiles.”

Stiles doesn’t want to feel pain.

“We’re running out of time, Beriadan! I can feel them coming back. They can’t stall her anymore!”

“The flow, cut it, Stiles!”

It feels like a tiny, trickling river. The path feels bigger too, like there used to be more water running in it but now it’s almost dry. It’s pulling from somewhere within him and the pain sharpens when he looks at it closely. He backs off quickly from that and hesitates. How does he cut it? He doesn’t want to feel pain again, but he doesn’t want that river to pull from there anymore.

It cuts abruptly.

“Yes, that’s it. Stiles, now you have to hide, honey. She’s coming!”

“Dun'derstan,” he slurs again.

His voice is back and the pain from within has stopped, so he can go to sleep now.

“No, Stiles, you have to get up. Crawl if you have to, but you have to get up! I know it’s hard but try, please? We’ll help you, but you have to try.”

Stiles doesn’t understand, his mind is trying to process what’s happening but he just can’t. There’s something in the tone of voice, urgent and desperate, that gets him moving. He feels them pushing as he tries to roll onto his stomach to push himself up. There are some papers strewn over the ground and he grabs them reflexively.

“We have to do it again, Aelfdene! He’s not going to make it at this rate!”

“Once more and that’s it. Everyone land right now or we’re going to drop like deadweight afterwards!”

“Again!”

Everything sharpens abruptly just as seven fairies rush to them. His stomach rolls and spots dance on his vision. He obeys the fairies' urgings and crawls as fast as he can to his hiding spot. Before he can make it, the door opens with a loud sound when it hits the wall and Sterling comes out with a terrifying laugh.

“Well, look at what we have here,” Sterling croons as she takes out a gun from god knows where and stalks closer. “I have to admit you’re good, kid,” she says conversationally when she stops in front of him. Stiles’ vision won’t focus and his arms give up on him, making him drop to the ground. He breathes harshly. “You convinced me completely with your act this past month. If you hadn’t been stupid I would have left you alone. Now, I’m curious, what are you? A mutt, maybe?” She aims and then lowers the gun again. She’s playing with him and enjoying it. It doesn’t work, his mind is too gone to feel anything. “No? Not feeling talkative? Don’t worry, I don’t need to know what you are. Bullet to the head always does the trick. It’s a shame having to use a silencer, though, I love the sound they make.”

On the edge of his vision he sees Eglantine, who looks terrified but at the same time determined. A lot of the fairies came looking for him. The only ones he can’t see are the youngest ones. Odette, Ehaldun, Kendel, Rhenalyrr. Those ginger twins that begged him to put the constellations on his ceiling again and again. They’re not here. Are they home? Waiting for the people that will never come back because of Stiles?

She’s going to kill him, Stiles thinks, detached. What is she going to do? Hide his body? Frame someone else for it? Maybe she’ll make it look like he ran away? Will his dad even notice today? Will he drown in alcohol again when he finds him? Will he search for him if he doesn’t? It’s late. Is he home already? Is he waiting for a son that will never come home just like his wife didn’t either?

“You can’t hurt me,” he slurs finally, which is true. You can’t hurt someone that can’t feel anything.

“Oh, I can't?” she says, mocking. “In case you haven’t noticed, not only am I the only one with a gun here, but you can barely move and your mosquitoes can’t even fly."

"You can’t hurt me,” he repeats, completely convinced.

"Let me prove you wrong, sweetie."

With a bloodthirsty smile, Sterling takes aim and shoots.

Um, some love would be appreciated, please? Not only I'm struggling quite a bit irl, but y'all are being very silent about this fic and I could use some positive reinforcement...

⭐ Previous | Next ⭐

[oceanmastertrash]

the tides know our names- 4/?

gif from @patrickwilsoned

Summary:  -takes place after the movie- Orm is working with Arthur to try to help Atlantis move forward when Elara has a vision of his death. As part of an order of Atlanteans dating back to the reign of King Atlan known as Tidewatchers, it is her duty to warn the king of her vision. Predicting and reading the future through the tides of fate has never been easy but Elara is in for the challenge of a lifetime working with her former king to save his life.

Part: 4/?

Word Count: 1,523

Warnings: Violence and fighting

Read on Ao3

Author’s Note: Welcome back! Couldn’t leave you on that cliffhanger for too long! and still got my chapter a day streak going strong. wooo! I also am finding that writing these smaller chapter makes it much easier for me to keep my flow. It’s also easier to get through the writing and editing if it’s in bite-sized chunks. Anywho, let’s get back to it!

What is it?” he asked and she squinted, deep in focus.

Hearing Orm’s question, Vulko stopped ahead of them.

Still feeling through the tides, she struggled to put into words what she’d sensed. It was such a small thing, like a single stone in a gravel road that was turned the wrong way.

“I-” Elara began but never got the chance to finish for suddenly the whole left side of the passage ahead exploded.

-

If the party had been any further along in the passage, they all might have been caught in the explosive blast but instead they were just hit by the blast wave. Vulko was thrown into to the far wall, Elara, the next closest to the explosion was nearly tossed off her feet, instead she was knocked into something heavy to her right. At the impact, she looked up to see that said heavy object was the prince. Orm had an arm extended that had kept her on her feet. A little stunned, and not just by the blastwave, Elara wanted to thank him but there was no time for pleasantries as citizens of the Trench suddenly flooded the cavity the blast had created.

Vulko and the guards were quick to to rush at them but while they were armed, Orm was not. Elara crouched to pull a pair of knives from their sheaths in her boots, handing one to him wordlessly. He nodded in gratitude as he took it before the Trenchers reached them.

Elara silently thanked the council of tidewatchers and especially Madren and Zult for all of their insistence and patience in teaching her the tides of battle. In a fray like this with such tight quarters and so many wild assailants, she needed every advantage she could get She would never boast to be a strong warrior like Orm or Arthur but learning the tides had taught her focus and perception which she’d spent years channelling into precision and skill.

Zult, the most masterful Tidewatcher in the art of battle tides had told her that every action caused a ripple and every move in battle was like a pebble being skipped in a lake. If she could focus on the ripples, on the depth of each skip and the direction, she could learn to predict where the stone would sink and how many skips it would make. The same was true in any fight, if she listened to the tides, and focused on the movements of her enemies, she could see how they might strike next. It was a small edge and one that could be overcome by sheer brute strength or overwhelming odds but it was an edge Elara had been trained to wield deftly.

While the Trenchers were no skilled warriors, they made up for it in blind savagery and numbers. The guards had moved ahead of Orm and Elara in an effort of protection but they and Vulko were quickly overrun and three of the Trench people were advancing on the tidewatcher and the prince. A ripple and she saw the middle one stabbing a spear towards Orm. She quickly stepped forward, blocking their intended aim and wrenched the spear from the Trencher’s grip. A flash shower the one on the left making to pierce her in the stomach so she feinted right while swinging the spear around to knock the middle Trencher into the left one.

Orm, meanwhile, had begun engaging with the remaining Trencher. If Elara was a fool she might have worried about him but he had been King of Atlantis and she knew he could handle himself against a single Trencher. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was not the same as the vision. It hadn’t been like this. She hadn’t seen an explosion and these Trenchers weren’t exactly wielding traditional Atlantean daggers. No, her vision had seemed more personal, more surgical. This was a blunt mess that Orm was certainly equal to facing.

The middle Trencher recovered quicker than than their fellow and made for her with claws and teeth. Grunting, she opted to stab them in the neck with her remaining knife. For the sake of speed, she left the knife in the Trencher for now and instead opted to fight with the spear. The remaining Trencher was recovering from its fall and made to lunge but she stabbed it swiftly with the spear.

Meanwhile, Trenchers were still pouring in through the hole. Many were already dead or knocked out by Vulko and the guards. Orm had dispatched his first attacker and was now engaged with two more. A third was making its way towards Orm when Elara intervened.

She leapt over a fallen combatant and swung her spear to meet them. They countered with their own spear. This one was more agile and ferocious, and perhaps more hungry judging by how it snapped its teeth. She gave it a bash in the head with the blunt end of the spear to knock them back then backed up to avoid their responding swing. Making quick slashes with the blade end she put them down.

She then turned to check on Orm. He was facing away from her, bearing down on a particularly large Trencher two or three times the size of the ones she’d fought, when she sensed his other opponent about to launch itself and swipe at the small of Orm’s back.

She leapt forward between the two and hit the Trencher in face to knock them off their path. Briefly, she chanced a glance at Orm only to see him notice her as well. He nodded and each resumed their respective bouts. There was something almost empowering about the idea of fighting back to back with warrior as powerful as Orm. When more Trenchers surrounded the pair, she found strength in him having her back while she defended his. The next few moments were a blur of blows and dodges. Elara anticipating and deflecting, and Orm knocking his enemies down with ease. In the noise of snarls and and slashes, she could sometimes hear Orm grunt or shout but she worked very hard not to focus on that. Now was not the time to be distracted.

Then, nearly as suddenly as the battle had started, the remaining Trenchers suddenly flinched, shrieking and clutching at their heads with their webbed limbs, some began folding in on themselves while others made to retreat. Elara looked at Orm in confusion. They were both panting, his brow furrowed in concentration and his hair, usually slicked and composed was now ruffled and loose. Now was not the time, but Elara had to admit that it was a good look. They were both taut and alive with energy as they tried to identify what has caused the sudden retreat.

Then a blast wave emanated from outside the hole in the wall, as Trenchers were suddenly slammed back in and against the wall and floor. Soldiers and guards swarmed in from either end of the hallway as Arthur, in his full armor and might swept in wielding the legendary trident of Atlan. The soldiers surged forward and began apprehending the cowering Trenchers.

Elara let out a deep breath, grateful for Arthur’s help and her training. Then she felt a ripple to her right and looked up to see Orm holding her knife out to her. It was spattered in gore and had clearly received plenty of use. Without any hesitation he wiped it quickly against the material of his pants before handing it back to her.

“Thank you,” he said as she took it from him.

She didn’t know why but something about the depth of his voice and manner surprised her. There was a look in his eyes that was different to how he’d regarded her before. It was almost as though she’d surprised him and he was doing his best to reassess his opinion of her.

She nodded, sheathing the knife, “You’re welcome.”

He continued looking at her though and the full weight of his stare made Elara very jumpy, especially as couldn’t figure out what it meant. With the surge of adrenaline from the battle still thrumming in her veins, it was uncomfortable to just stand still. For lack of anything else to do, she just cleared her throat and went to retrieve the other knife from the Trencher’s neck. She’d just wiped it when Arthur swam his way to them from where he’d just been speaking with Vulko.

“You two alright?” He asked, looking them both up and down for injuries.

Orm and Elara looked at each other again, seeming to do the same. He still had that look in his eye- almost grateful and also surprised. It was hard even with her skills as a tidewatcher to place.

“We fared well enough,” Orm answered.

“No injuries here,” she replied though she knew she’d likely be very sore later.

“Good,” Arthur said, satisfied, “I think we better have another chat.”

She just nodded, too worn out for anything else but Orm was still looking at Elara when he responded to Arthur, “Indeed we should.”

A/N: I don’t write fight scenes that often but that was a lot of fun to write. And Orm in action? hell yes, sign me up. He’s just so attractive y'all. Okay, you know the drill, I would love to hear what y'all think about how the stories going or heck, just gush at me about how hot Orm is. We’re all in this together.

[saucysuitors]

Dev Entry #2: June 2018

Hi everyone! In just 8 days, it will be the 3 month anniversary of the Saucy Suitors demo going up on itcho for NaNoRenO 2018. I’m here today to give everyone an update on how development is going.

I’m still working on Sho’s route and it’s coming along nicely. I’d guess that the script is about 35% written, with a current word count of 12,000 words. That might sound like a lot of words for something not even halfway done, but most of what I have left to write are the alternative dialogue options and endings.

The “true ending” route itself is about 60% finished at this point, and the reason it’s taking me so long to get the entire Sho route finished is because I needed to work out that “true ending” route first. I think that once it’s done, it will be much faster for me to get it finished, because by then it’d just be filling in the gaps for the other endings and dialogue options, if that makes sense.

I am simultaneously working on the art assets at the same time too, which is also a BIG part of getting Sho’s route actually finished. I think I have a minimum of 3 backgrounds to make, which is probably the most time-consuming element of the entire VN dev process for me. However, some of them can be reused when I begin working on the other condimen’s routes, so that’s a huge bonus!

I’ve finished a talksprite for a new character that appears only in Sho’s route, whom you can see above! Her name is Awoi Sugiyama. I wonder who she could be, and what relation she has to Sho? :3 hmmmm guess you’ll have to wait and find out~

Anyway, that’s all I have to show off to you guys for today. I hope you look forward to playing the route when it’s done! <3

I have a couple other things I wanted to mention. First, because development is going to take a while, I’ve been wondering how I ought to release the parts of the game that I *do* finish. Should I put out an update every time I finish a route, allowing you to play through it entirely? That would make it more like an episodic/chapter release. Or should I finish the entire thing and release it at once, even if that happens one or two years from now? I’m not sure yet. If you have any opinions, feel free to send an ask or message letting me know!

My last thought for today has to do with the fact that I’m making this game completely by myself, and whether I should continue making it that way or not. 🤔

It started out as a NaNoRenO project, and my very first VN project ever. I wanted to do something small and fast in order to help me get the hang of how to make VNs. But as I started writing the script and working on it, I started to have much bigger and better ideas than my initial one, and pretty soon I was making a *demo* for a full-sized otome game, and not a small but completely finished NaNo game.

Before NaNo was even over, I had decided to keep working on it and make a full game, and at the time the prospect of finding a few people to help me make it arose. But almost immediately, I decided not to do that. There were a few reasons for this.

1. I am an amateur and this is a pet project. 2. It’s not realistic to ask complete strangers to help me with making my amateur pet project for free. Especially people who know way more about developing VNs than I do. 3. I can’t promise them a share of the sales of the finished game, because I’ve always intended to release the full version for free. 4. I can’t (and shouldn’t, even if I could) spend money to pay them to help me with the game.

Basically, I don’t want to be one of those assholes offering “exposure” or something similarly dumb to a talented and skilled person. I really do feel like anyone I’d ask to help with Saucy Suitors deserves to get paid to do it, and that if I can’t pay them, I shouldn’t ask for help. And with that mindset, I’ve continued onward with development.

Still, the thought came back to me this week while working on Awoi’s talksprite. There’s no denying that having even one person volunteer to help me with story editing/feedback would help me enormously. One person helping me with coding would speed everything up A LOT as well - just like with the UI, I *could* invest a few dozen hours into learning how to do it myself, but that’s all time I could be putting towards writing and art. (Commissioning a UI probably saved me about 40-50 hours of time, since I didn’t even know where to begin with making it myself!)

A few people I know through the VN dev community encouraged me to go ahead and just ask around for any possible volunteers, but I’m still not sure. Maybe I’ll post on the Lemmasoft forums or mention it on itch.io.

I guess the reason I’m bringing all of this up is because it’s part of what’s going on right now with the development of the game, and as a partial explanation for why the full game won’t be coming for a QUITE a while, since I’m doing it by myself. And, I guess, in the slim chance someone reading this would be interested in volunteering? Message me if you’re interested, but it’s gonna be a commitment, and like I said, I can’t offer to pay you!

That’s going to be all for today - perhaps in the next update I’ll have more progress to Sho off (hehe 9u9) or even some collaborators to announce. I hope you’ll look forward to it, and to more art and doodles on this tumblr blog in the meantime!

PS: If you’re hungry for super-frequent little updates, you can follow me on Twitter over here!

[respheal]

Two years of Galebound

Hey guys, Res here! Long spiel ahead because I’m getting personal and long-winded here. Full text after the cut to spare your dash.

tl;dr: A brief history of Galebound’s development and my experiences with telling a story, joining a community, depression, and living inside my characters’ heads for two solid years.

[cut]

So I was working on page 103 early last month (yeah, the week page 103 was due to go up aaaahhahahaha -cries-) when I realized what was coming up: the second anniversary of Galebound’s start as a webcomic. The exact date of the anniversary is a little nebulous. The decision to make it a webcomic was made on 4/20/16 when I completed drawing the concept art for all the main characters (which I had set as a prerequisite for going on the hare-brained adventure) and drew what would become the title page. The first page was published on Smack Jeeves (where galebound.com is hosted) on 5/14/16. So the birthday of the webcomic is somewhere between those dates but I’m going to consider it to be 5/14, which is why I’m rambling about it today. I want to talk a bit about Galebound’s history and what it means to me.

Galebound was originally a short story called Noblesse Oblige. It was written in first person POV from Conan’s perspective and published on DeviantArt back in 2007 or so. I really wish I could find that original draft because I bet it’s wonderfully terrible. I didn’t really know what I was doing with the story at the time--Conan was an untrusting jerk, Din was an arrogant troll, and Pascal was downright unhinged. The basic mechanics of the Obligation were there (simply that Noblemen could command Magicians), but that was about it.

I pants’d the story until it got to--well, just after this point actually. The conclusion of the battle on the bridge, and then I stopped. I don’t entirely remember why. But the story stuck around in the back of my mind while I met new friends (Hi, Skypernauts!), went to college, moved across the country, met my first boyfriend, got my first job, met my future husband, and casually worked on developing an RPGMaker game in my spare time (That RPG is called Memory and that story will likely get turned into a comic eventually as well).

While I was working on Memory’s battle system, I had the thought: how would I convert Noblesse Oblige into an RPG? The magic system would probably have to be something like the field generator from the original .hack games: string together words for a certain field or, in this case, magic. That way the command side of the Obligation would be integrated into the gameplay.

I played around with that idea for a bit longer, but ultimately decided it wouldn’t work; there was a major design flaw with the game. I can’t say what that flaw was because figuring out the solution to the design flaw led to the realization of a huge twist in NO’s story. I had to get this story out. Now.

Around this time I had abandoned RPG-making (because making nice maps is a PITA), so I took Noblesse Oblige through a JulyNoWriMo (NaNoWriMo, just in July). This time I took the story through Norin, Evenheim, the bridge, and on to Cymaria and beyond, compelled as if by Obligation. I accomplished my goal of 50k words, but the story still wasn’t complete. I slowed down the writing process and kept at it, but I also wanted to share the story so badly.

And uh...well. No one was interested in beta reading it except one friend, when time allowed. My fiance made an attempt, but didn’t get very far (He tried though, bless him, and said that although the beginning was rough--lord was it ever--it picked up eventually). In his eternal patience, my fiance at least let me spill the whole story at him. He didn’t like parts of it, mainly some things that happen around the midpoint and Din as a character in general (Din was a bit more actually evil back then). But he listened to the story as a whole, which was a lot more support than I felt anyone else had given the project at the time (Thanks, Mike <3). He also made a hell of a lot of puns about the ending of it, but in fairness the ending does lend itself to a lot of puns. It’ll blow you away (ba-dum-tsh).

I started getting really frustrated. There was this story that I just had to tell, but seemingly no one who would listen. I’d put a couple chapters up on Wattpad or Tablo, but got no feedback there (and didn’t learn until much later that those sites are miserable for anything that isn’t romance). An excuse would be that I wanted to know if this project had any sort of worth and if I should continue with it, but real talk: I wanted validation. I know better now what was happening then, but...well, hindsight.

While this was going on, I posted this illustration in the NaNoWriMo forums, the first drawing I had done in about two years or so.

No comments for a bit, but one day I was browsing through the thread and noticed someone quoted me and responded, asking if I was doing a webcomic. Um...No? I had tried making a webcomic before, but it was a LOT of work and I figured it wouldn’t be something I would have time for now.

Buuuuuuuuut the seed was planted. At this point I had determined the reason no one was interested in reading my rough novel was because A) the writing must be terrible (it kind of was) and B) nobody ain’t got time for reading books. So maybe this story could be told and find its audience as a webcomic. But only if I could draw ALL of the main and secondary characters. I would have to draw them hundreds of times, so no point in trying if I couldn’t even draw them all once.

Suffice to say, I succeeded. And the comic began under the new name Galebound.

Even as the comic went up, however, the need for validation persisted. I meticulously tracked subscription counts and likes and faves and everything, craving proof that people were reading this story. It got better as the story went on and some events did provide temporary boosts (Like Galebound getting featured on a “Top Five New Comics” list from Top Web Comics -excited screaming- and I met a new friend who I could talk to about the story and she actually read the monstrosity that was the first draft), but, well...

So, long story short: I was suffering from clinical depression with all that entails, and did for quite a while. Still am, technically. Just well managed now (yaaaaaay therapy and medication). It’s funny because I can pick out the pages it was hitting me the hardest because Conan was super bummed in those pages too.

I guess what I’m saying here is that this story was a big part of my life during some of the hardest and darkest times of my life.

I’m doing better now (see: aforementioned medication and therapy). Really I’m lucky because I see and talk to other webcomic artists who have similar struggles and similar feelings and the same reactions when sad or disappointing things happen and I want to suggest they get professional help when I recognize the signs of depression in them, but I realize I’m extremely fortunate in that I even had the opportunity to get the medical attention I needed. (I will recommend up and down all day long that if you’re suffering from depression and have the opportunity to see a doc about it, do so. For years I had tricked myself into thinking it wasn’t that bad even when...it was.)

There were good things, too. I met new friends and joined a community of other webcomic creators. I contributed to some drama in the community in an attempt to hold our publishing platforms accountable. I created a website to help webcomic readers and creators. I attended my first convention as an artist (and actually sold a sticker and a booklet! Woo!) and by the time this gets published I’ll have attended my second. Galebound has gained a small fanbase and I’m so proud of how clever the readers are. Seriously, you all keep me on my toes.

Regarding the story itself, Galebound is, by my estimates, about a fifth of the way through the full story, which means it will likely run for about ten years total if things don’t speed up (and I really want to speed things up). If you consult the Blake Snyder Beat Sheet, we’re somewhere in “The Debate”, that debate being “Who is Din and can he be trusted?”

Spoiler alert (warning: song with explicit language)

The whole concept of the Obligation stems from the dichotomy of what one wants to do versus what one feels compelled to do. That could be taking over the family business, going to college, going to church, even choosing a life partner based on expectations as opposed to one’s true feelings--as a character will say in the future, “not all Obligations are magic.” This sort of Obligation is something I think a lot of people face, and something Conan, too, will face throughout the course of the story.

Galebound is also about redemption and forgiveness. There are characters who have made terrible mistakes and decisions in the name of hatred and prejudice, and those who have brought harm to others out of sheer ignorance. It’s about self-worth and purpose. It’s about friendship and reconciliation. It’s about platonic and familial love. It’s about duty...and obligations.

It’s complicated, but “simple stories are inherently false. Life is complicated, and perspective matters.”

To sort of go into Conan and Din’s headspace a bit as they are now, they’re not in a good place emotionally, and it’s soon to get worse (because a certain someone Can’t Follow Instructions). They will hit rock bottom, but after that...well, there’s no place left to go but up? After this chapter, both of them will be reeling from mistakes made in the recent and distant past, but these events--as well as what will happen with the next few days--will put them in a place to rethink everything.

Long story short, I’m excited for what’s to come, but when am I not?

Anyway, that’s my spiel. Thanks for reading and for reading Galebound! My goals for it this year are to finish the first volume, start editing some of the earlier pages in preparation for printing, get a few chapters of the novel written (again), and get to the turn into act two. I’m actually so hyped for the turn I’ve edited this paragraph a millions times to keep myself from dropping even hints of spoilers because wow I want to talk about it.

So I better stop.

Thanks again for reading and Galespeed! <3

Links

Read Galebound here: galebound.com Prints and Stickers: store.synestories.com Social Media: Twitter | Facebook Support: Ko-Fi | Patreon

[soysaucevictim]

Brief one day intermission, followed by beginning Spellbound!

Aug. 15

Technically pulled an allnighter to finished up that scary!Remus project.

Took a short nap to recharge a little before getting on some dishes and today’s Hello Fresh meal. Black bean & poblano quesadillas. I REALLY enjoyed this one and was pleased with how they held together alright. It went well enough for everyone else too.

I determined I would only do today’s DD, for exercise. 2′ side elbow plank with EC (1′/1′). This was pretty brutal, especially while running on only 1 hour or so of sleep. With some noted sagging, I did manage to get through it in one piece.

After a bit of chatting and tumblr... I got bed solidly in the green zone in ages... but yeah. I was DONE.

-

Aug. 16

I woke up around 8AM.

Did some chatting before making that one layer-by-layer .gif I ended up scheduling later to post. Then I got started on my new exercise regimen!

First, today’s DD. 30 cross-reach sit-ups with EC. That was pretty intense, but manageable. I love the fact my abs are in good enough condition that I can do most of these sit-up DDs without anchor assist! =w=

Last, Chapter 1 of the new Spellbound Program! This is the new RPG Program DAREBEE released. Already, I’m very intrigued by the structure and the picture being painted! I won’t invoke the probability modifier for now - but may in future reruns!

Today involved charging/casting “Silent Step“. I shortened my rest periods to 1′ to make it a bit more challenging. Not a huge fan of lunges, but arguably, the reverse kinds are a bit easier than the forward kinds.

Spent rest of day chatting and watching the last 2 Indiana Jones movies with friend.

Got to bed exorbitantly late.

-

Aug. 17

I woke up around 11AM.

Spent much of my day chatting, doing some video editing, and browsing before exercise.

First, today’s DD. 3′ calf raise hold with EC. Pretty breezy work - just takes some focus to make sure not to lose the center for the whole duration.

Last, Chapter 2 of the SbP. I’m already enjoying the prose component to this program a lot. This chapter involved charging up a “Lightning Bolt Spell“. I kept the rests down to 1′ and made those plank hold cts as slow as I could. Definitely got me trembling - but I felt the sequence was v appropriate for the spell imagery~

Did some dishes, and browsing before hitting the sack. Went to bed late, but earlier than yesterday.

-

Aug. 18

I woke up after 1PM, today.

Made dinner, spent most of my day doing some video editing and just some browsing stuff.

I started on my exercise really late today (~9PM).

First, today’s DD. 20 raised leg push-ups with EC. Just about doable.

Last, Chapter 3 of the SbP. I’m still very much enjoying the imagery! I first charged up “Sure Step“ and I rested for 1′ in between sets.

After 1′ of rest, I then charged “Increased Speed“. This time I went for max rest. Partly to mind the knees slightly - but I still did the full-impact of high knees, climbers, and the “hidden burpees”.

Then casted first spell and though I won’t do the probability modifier this run through - I technically failed my roll. And would have to cast the second spell to save my ass. (I guess I’ll note these checks anyways.) :,D

Did  bit of rambling on Twitter and video editing before turning in... late, but earlier than yesterday. I had an appointment to get to tomorrow.

-

Aug. 19

I woke up around 9AM.

The first thing I did today was take a shower before shipping out to my optometrist appointment today. Things are looking pretty good in that department.

Got home, did a bit of video editing, chatting, and browsing tumblr, before getting in my exercise.

First, today’s DD. 30 infinity circles with EC (20/20; standing.) Kind of sloppy, but whatever, too tired to really care. Had a few moments where I had to recenter myself and wobbled a lot - but foot only dropped to switch sides.

Last, Chapter 4 of the SbP. Charged up the “Persuasion Spell“ today. It was basically an “active rest day“ and gratefully chill. Because tired. But I did shorten the rest periods to 1′ this time. Yeah.

Spent rest of night chatting and browsing Tumblr. Got to bed later than yesterday, despite being pretty tired.

-

Aug. 20

I woke up after 1PM.

One of the first things I did today was dishes and making a couple trip reservations with LC. Then I watched some YouTube while getting in my exercise.

First, today’s DD. 20 fly steps with EC. A bit messy, but manageable. Been awhile since I did this one too, so that was nice and novel.

Last, Chapter 5 of the SbP. I’m getting more and more intrigued by Spellbound’s plot, now. Casted “Persuasion“ and was instructed to charge an attack and defense spell.

For the attack spell, I picked “Iron Strike“. Arm stuff. Honestly freaking hilarious to do while rewatching DWIT. Pffft. But yeah, I made it a bit more challenging by shortening the rests to 1′.

(NO. I WILL NOT have Roman mumble about mashed potatoes in this fic. I REFUSE. Anyways, didn’t rest too long before next thing.)

The defense spell I picked was “Ethereal“. Ankle complained a little bit and internet died a sec during last set. But I like jumping jacks and found it funny trying to maintain balance on one foot while watching Remus being Remus. :,D

I spent a few hours dealing with dishes, chatting, and getting a bit of writing done.

Got to bed late, but earlier than yesterday. I was anticipating an appointment.

-

Aug. 21

Woke up around 11AM.

Watched a bit of YouTube before going to my dental appointment today. Went alright.

Did some chatting at home before making today’s Hello Fresh Meal. Firecracker meatballs. Bro really liked it. I liked it well enough. Pops hasn’t been in a good way since a lot of his teeth are missing... eh. Hopefully he’ll be able to get some dentures soon.

Spent a good deal of my day chatting Dad’s ears off about social issues, getting some mail taken care of doing dishes, and more chatting with a friend.

I got around to exercise extremely late, around midnight late. But oh well.

First, today’s DD. 1′ of squats with EC. I counted 38 reps by the end.

Last, Chapter 6 of the SbP. This started off asking me to charge up and cast Ethereal... I swear I didn’t look ahead when I charged it yesterday. So technically this chapter was a Gimme.

So for the hell of it and to do an actual workout today... I basically swapped around the chapters and charged another defensive spell. I picked “Deflect“ and only rested 30″. A very enjoyable and fairly breezy workout. Love me some half jacks! (Given how demanding today was, and how much more sleep I wanted, it was pretty breezy.) =w=

Despite being hella tired - I got to bed later than yesterday.

[hermanwatts]

(Today’s column is a reprint of Kevyn Winkless’s excellent and heart-felt introduction to German science-fiction hero Perry Rhodan, originally posted on the Castalia House blog on 17 August, 2017. Kevyn ended his heart-felt appreciation for the run of Perry Rhodan published in English during the 1970s with “by all reports, the modern Rhodan is rich and fairly sophisticated space opera.” Next week, we shall see for ourselves in a review of ARK OF THE STARS, by Frank Borsch, the first book in the Perry Rhodan: Lemuria miniseries.)

You know The Shadow. You may know The Spider. You definitely know Conan. And after this year’s cinematic offering you also know Valerian, even if you’re not familiar with the original comics.

But are these really the most beloved SFF heroes in print? Really?

Yes, they are definitely at the top – and a convincing case can be made for Conan in particular as a global phenomenon with incredible staying power. But let me introduce you to another hero who is sadly little known in the English-speaking world: Perry Rhodan.

I stumbled on Perry Rhodan the summer we moved to a tiny town of under 500 people when I was in high school.

The nearest book store with anything like a SFF section was 100km away and the local shops’ spinners were loaded down with romance novels and basically nothing else. The library’s collection of SFF fare spanned a set of five spinners off in the back. I was frustrated at the time, but in retrospect in that age long before Amazon and before I had the financial wherewithal to participate in things like the Science Fiction Book Club[1] the fact that such a small town had a library at all was good fortune at its finest.

Needless to say I consumed that pitiful collection of SFF paperbacks in record time, and as a result was introduced to a variety of classic authors I might never have noticed otherwise[2]. I’m sure that experience deeply influences my reading and writing habits today.

To be honest, though, I have only the vaguest memories of what exactly was on those spinners. Oh, I know I first encountered James Blish and Andre Norton and Lin Carter and  van Voght here but other than Blish’s print adaptations of Star Trek episodes[3] I couldn’t tell you what titles were actually there. Except one:

Perry Rhodan.

Perry Rhodan was first published in German in 1961 in a Romanhefte format – this is a slim, pocket sized format analogous to the digest pulps popular in the US at the time[4], popular for “disposable fiction” of all kinds. And disposable is what the Rhodan series was initially intended to be:

At the start, it was to be a limited run of a few dozen weekly issues of novella length, but it was quickly obvious that the initial authors K. H. Scheer and Walter Ernsting  were on to something big, and the series was continued. The publishers are no doubt very happy they decided to see just where Perry Rhodan would go because as of today there are more than 2,900 issues in the continuous main series, more than 850 issues of the Atlan spin-off series featuring many of the same characters, and a multitude of subsidiary products including comic strips, and merchandise. The series has been so popular that it has reportedly sold more than a billion copies just in its native German, with another billion in various foreign language translations.

It was of course the English translation I found[5] – organized by Forrest Ackerman of fandom fame in the mid-60s, and resulting in Ace publication starting in 1968. This English translation and adaptation[6] unfortunately was ill-fated:

Despite being well-received by readers and eventually being popular enough to justify producing three issues per month, Ace decided to end the run in 1977 – with just a few missing pieces sputtering out until the end of 1978. Demand was high enough, though, for Wendayne Ackerman to publish another 19 issues under her own imprint, Master Publications. These were distributed only to subscribers, however, so the majority of the Rhodan reading public in the English speaking world were left with nothing but the 124 issues Ace had given them.

This, frankly, is a crying shame. Quite apart from the amazing popularity Rhodan continues to enjoy in Germany and around the world in several languages[7] the story itself is fascinating.

I can hardly call myself an expert – I came on these books years after the English translations had ceased publication[8] and have had to make do with the occasional issues I’ve stumbled on since those first three in that tiny small-town library so many years ago. But I have managed to track down more than half of the original translations over the years, and can piece together what is obviously a remarkable set of storylines.

The premise itself is nothing remarkable to us in the modern SFF scene – just the standards:

space mission stumbles on a crashed alien spacecraft on the moon and discovers mind-blowingly advanced technology

ancient space empire is decadent and crumbling

multiple “rabid” species, less advanced, are worrying at the edges and threaten to destroy everything the peaceful space empire has built up

decadent space empire gives their technology to humanity as the last great hope when they demonstrate their ability to unify under threat

You know: the usual.

But what makes this series so remarkable – at least in the portion I have read – is the seamless way the arcs link together. This is no mean feat for this style of serial, keeping things coherent and flowing despite the hands of multiple writers pushing the cart. The continuing success of the series is a testament to the skill with which the publishers have managed their stable of contributors and curated their “bible” for the series.

Also interesting is the way the story, despite being explicitly high tech space opera, effortlessly weaves in metaphysics and curious references to occult esoterica. I suppose to some extent this sort of thing is to be expected in a space opera setting that invokes the psionics trope, but the number of alchemical and other hermetic symbols that get deployed is truly fascinating – and links perfectly with the setting’s conceit that there really are “layers of being” that species transition through on their way to perfect unity with the universe.

So why is a series that is so influential and has such a devoted following completely invisible in English?

Part of the problem is that the US market was only ever exposed to the opening chapters of the story, which are generally considered fairly simple, straightforward space opera. Many critics of the time panned it as being too simplistic, with empty characters and relying heavily on tropes of human expansion that many felt were best left back in the 50s.

The basic criticisms are probably fair – the opening chapters are full speed ahead space opera, with thrilling space battles and fairly stereotypical characters  who are motivated in direct ways – and while some of the issues in the early books are surely caused by rapid translation you can definitely tell these were throw-away space adventures aimed at a younger audience.

But it’s hard to see why Ace would choose to discontinue a series that was, by all reports, profitable just because it wasn’t as sophisticated as the books the reviews columns were gushing over, especially when the translations had just started moving into the far more sophisticated storylines being developed by William Voltz in the Atlan spin-off – and which he brought back to the main line when he took over as master storyline planner in 1975, slowly developing the series to aim for a more discerning older audience. Not to mention the fact that they killed the series right when space opera was enjoying a comeback via Star Wars.[9]

The only explanation I can think of is the self-consciousness of English genre fiction that grew through the 60s and into the 70s – a looming hunger to be taken seriously, to be viewed as literary equals in an increasingly consolidated market.  In this environment it’s easy to see the pressure Jim Baen (who was SF editor at the time) and Tom Doherty (publisher) might have been under to reframe Ace’s SF offerings to a more “high-brow” focus.

But this concern for respectability is a great loss – by all reports, the modern Rhodan is rich and fairly sophisticated space opera, and it seems to me that the English SFF landscape is poorer for having sneered this series off stage back in 1978.

[1] SFBC has changed since I was a member – it doesn’t look anywhere near as appealing now as it once did, but in those days I discovered real greats through their catalog, and several of my favourite authors I learned to love because of one of their editions.

[2] Mainly because at that point they were increasingly out of print.

[3] Co-written with his wife, Judith, under the pen-name J. A. Lawrence as short story collections between 1967 and 1978, these little pocket books by Bantam were sometimes better than the TOS episodes they were based on and I consumed them hungrily.

[4] Though actually literally the German market equivalent of the dime novel.

[5] I have assayed original German issues on a couple of occasions, but sadly my German is just not up to it – though it might have been if I’d been lucky enough to discover Rhodan when I was 13 or 14.

[6] Ackerman and his wife, Wendayne – who did most of the translation – repackaged the originals by combining issues and reformatting the English issue layouts something like the pulps they remembered from their youth.

[7] Currently: a Portuguese translation available in Brazil, and translations into Russian, Chinese, Japanese, French, Czech, and Dutch – Italian and Finnish translations seem to have sputtered out. There was also a short-lived pirate version in Hebrew!

[8] And long before the two reboot efforts in the 1990s and 2006.

[9] And in fact, Lucas has mentioned Rhodan as an influence – less than Flash Gordon, but big enough to shape the design of some of the space ships.

published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

[thomasroach]

Top RPG News Of The Week: June 30th (Elden Ring, Code Vein, Dragon Quest and More!)

The post Top RPG News Of The Week: June 30th (Elden Ring, Code Vein, Dragon Quest and More!) appeared first on Fextralife.

Happy weekend from Fextralife! If you’ve been too busy to keep up on the latest in the games we cover or are looking for a refresher we’ve got you covered! Here’s a bite-sized version of the Top RPG news of the week. Taste all the latest news across the Fextralife Wiki Network.

Check out the video above and read on for the text!

Elden Ring

Recent interviews with Elden Ring director Hidetaka Miyazaki of FromSoftware have mainly focused on the structure of the open-world RPG. However, in a recent article, Miyazaki talks more about Games of Thrones’ author George R.R. Martin’s involvement.

Getting such a successful fantasy writer involved in such a project would lead many to believe that Martin was brought on to help develop the main plot of Elden Ring. But according to a recent article by IGN, this isn’t the case. What Miyazaki calls a “natural evolution of Dark Souls”, FromSoftware are very much behind the main story of Elden Ring.

According to the director, there are certain limitations when it comes to story writing for games, having Martin focus on the lore of Elden Ring gives more freedom to the creative process. Inspiration comes from both sides in this collaboration.

It looks like Elden Ring’s story will be rich in lore, taking influence from Martin’s mythology and a dark tale that FromSoftware will weave.

To read more about this news find it here in George R.R. Martin Responsible For Mythology In Elden Ring.

Final Fantasy VIII Remastered

Final Fantasy VIII Remastered was announced during the Square Enix presentation at E3 2019 and is set to receive several new features according to Producer Yoshinori Kitase.

In a recent interview which was in Famitsu magazine, the producer of Final Fantasy VIII Remastered Yoshinori Kitase recently revealed some new progression and customisation additions. According to the interview new mechanics be introduced such as triple speed, Battle Enhancements which includes Max HP, ATB Gauge and Limit Breaks will always be available. There will also be no random encounters in the FFVIII Remastered version.

While the above features will be available on all platforms, some new elements will be available but only for the PC version of game, available via Steam. These include platform exclusive features such as acquire all items, abilities, special moves and triple triad cards. Also the addition of max GF level, gil and magic. Finally, customisable system settings will be available on the PC version.

Final Fantasy VIII Remastered will be releasing later this year on Playstation 4, Xbox One, Nintendo Switch and PC for Steam.

To read more about this news find it here in Final Fantasy VIII Remastered To Have New Features Including PC Exclusives.

Hollow Knight

Since Hollow Knight Silksong was unveiled as it’s own game, fans have been curious to see what this sequel will bring in terms of gameplay. In their latest post on Kickstarter, Team Cherry shed some light on what this new character will bring, showcasing some of the new features in a roundup post-E3.

It turns out there will be a few differences between the Hornet and the Hollow Knight, which includes the way she heals, use of silk spool, and even an updated death mechanic. While not revealing all new additions, the developer highlighted some they were ready to share.

Healing for the Hornet involves using the silk that she accrues from killing enemies, using Bind to wrap around injuries and help return her to a healthier state. She is also super speedy compared to the Knight when she heals and she can do it in mid-air.

An interesting addition is the use of a death mechanic, as with Hollow Knight, the Hornet can die but also will leave a cocoon behind. The cocoon contains a full amount of silk which can be used at an opportune moment.

Hollow Knight Silksong will launch on Windows, Mac, Linux and Nintendo Switch, with more platforms possible in the future. According the latest post, there is no set release window announced as of yet.

To read more about this news find it here in Hollow Knight Silksong New Gameplay Details.

Bloodstained Ritual of the Night

Fans of the game who have chosen Switch as their platform for Bloodstained Ritual of the Night have not been too thrilled by how it matches up compared to other platforms due to lower resolution than originally stated and framerate issues.

Comparison videos have been showing up online giving a side by side comparison between the platforms. In a video by Direct-Feed Games, it shows the difference between the Switch and PS4 version.

But 505 Games have not stayed silent on the matter and are planning on rolling out some small updates which is set to bring improvements to the Switch version according to their Twitter account.

Cyberpunk 2077 will launch on April 16th 2020 on Playstation 4, Xbox One and PC.

To read more about this news find it here in Bloodstained: Ritual Of The Night Switch Version Will Get Improvements Following Player Feedback.

Cyberpunk 2077

While we’re still quite some time away until the launch of Cyberpunk 2077, CD Projekt Red aren’t going to let you forget about it with the newly released PS4 theme.

Now available you can download the free PS4 theme for Cyberpunk 2077 from the Playstation Store to get yourself ready for it’s release next year. It features the almost neon yellow art featuring the main character V.

The theme includes CyberpunkS sound effects which sounds pretty futuristic and quite ominous music, which works out pretty great for a free download.

To read more about this news find it here in Cyberpunk 2077 Free PS4 Theme Now Available.

Steam Summer Sale 2019

The Steam Summer Sale has hit with plenty of discounted games until July 9th. Don’t miss out on some awesome RPG titles that comes with equally awesome prices.

Titles include Capcom’s Monster Hunter World which can be picked up with 50% off, now only $29.99.

You can also get Divinity Original Sin 2 with 40% off, now only $27.

If you’re looking to dive into the Witcher 3, you get this title for $14.99.

There are a fair few games with some huge discounts, so don’t miss out.

To read more about this news find it here in Steam Summer Sale 2019 Now On Until July 9th.

Elder Scrolls Online

This week definitely has some good sales, the Elder Scrolls Online standard edition is now 50% off which can be purchased on the ESO Store.

If you’re wanted to pick up the Elder Scrolls Online Standard Edition but haven’t quite dived in or trying to get a friend to join, now’s a great time to pick up the base game for $9.99. This offer is now running on both Steam and the ESO Store, so you have your pick for PC.

The base game has a lot of content to offer and also comes with the Morrowind chapter meaning you will start you journey in Vvardenfell arriving by sea. I won’t spoil too much of the story for you as there’s a great adventure ahead to discover.

To read more about this news find it here in Elder Scrolls Online Standard Edition Now $10 On ESO Store.

Code Vein

The latest trailer for Code Vein shows Revenants battling against a four armed wolf enemy that wears chains and has quite a few elemental attacks.

The boss called “Successor of the Ribcage” also seems to be able to release waves of flames when slamming down it’s chains, making it quite a formidable boss. It can also send out shards of ice and rain down an electric storm.

This boss can be found in the Cathedral of Sacred Blood which looks like quite the labyrinth from early screenshots. Players can choose to battle it alone or team up with an NPC using Code Vein’s companion system.

There seems to be plenty of movement in this fight, definitely an action packed encounter.

Code Vein will be releasing PS4, Xbox One and PC on September 27th 2019.

To read more about this news find it here in Code Vein New Trailer Featuring Boss Successor Of The Ribcage.

Dragon Quest

Officially announcing that a new project is in motion, Square Enix have now listed job openings on their website for the next main Dragon Quest game.

The game hasn’t got an official title as of yet, but probably be named something along the lines of Dragon Quest XII. It will be developed by the Second Main Development Team at Square Enix according to the page. This is the same team responsible for Dragon Quest XIand others in the franchise.

The recruitment page also includes a statement from Square Enix Second Main Development Team Director and Dragon Quest XI Director Takeshi Uchikawa. The director hopes to aim the next title at the “next generation” and for it to appeal to “customers all over the world”.

Currently the development is only at the beginning stages so we might have to wait A while before we see any gameplay.

To read more about this news find it here in Square Enix Unveils New Dragon Quest HD Title.

Well, that’s it for the Week in Wikis. Please join us next week for yet another great week of gaming! Remember to check out our VIP program for some exclusive supporter benefits, and budding writers should take advantage of our Become an Author initiative! Thanks again for being a part of this great community. Keep checking in with us for news, reviews, YouTube streams and vids, and general wiki goodness!

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The post Top RPG News Of The Week: June 30th (Elden Ring, Code Vein, Dragon Quest and More!) appeared first on Fextralife.

Top RPG News Of The Week: June 30th (Elden Ring, Code Vein, Dragon Quest and More!) published first on https://juanaframi.tumblr.com/

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Preparation of Study Plan for PMP Exam Certification tips

PMP Exam Study Plan

Preparing for the PMP exam is quite unlike what you did in school and college. Here the focus is not on memorization, but understanding the concepts, best practices, guidelines, and project management framework, as per PMI's PMBOK Guide (currently Fifth Edition since July 2013).

Most of the people I come across have heard about PMP from their friends or colleagues and are interested to gain the professional certification in Project Management.

However, they mostly lack the experience of project management. Most have worked on small projects, and may not have been in a Project Manager position for a significant amount of time. I have written previously about the eligibility criteria for the PMP Exam.

Further, they may have limited knowledge of all the project management knowledge areas, as not all are required for most small day to day projects. No wonder the casualty rate for first time PMP exam takers is so high.

So, when it comes to preparing for the PMP Exam, you need to have a plan that is specific, practical, time-bound and achievable. Without a good game plan, you may simply be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work, or just run out of steam mid-way...

One good Study Plan for PMP that I often recommend to my students is as follows.

1. Quickly enroll in a PMP Exam Preparation Workshop in your city. You can most certainly find one, and you can look up our PMP Training Directory if you need assistance. PMI has local chapters in major cities in almost each country, so you can ask the local PMI chapter for assistance, recommendations or suggestions of upcoming PMP boot-camps.

These boot-camps may be 4 day or 5 day in length, are are quite intensive. Some companies even run them on weekends, so you don't have to take leave from your busy project schedule.

Another alternative to Classroom Training is to Study Online for your PMP Exam. Yes, you can do this now, and study at your own time and convenience. Using Online PMP Exam Preparation Classes, you can also get the 35 PDUs or Contact hours, and they are considered valid for the PMP Exam.

2. Assess the gap in your knowledge: After you've attended the PMP Exam Preparation training of usually 35 contact hours ( a pre-requisite of PMI before you can take the exam), you will realize how big is the gap in your knowledge and the PMI's project management framework.

You should ask questions such as:

* In which knowledge areas do I have the least knowledge?

* In which kind of organization types have I never worked at?

* What kind of HR theories do I follow, and which are new to me?

* What kind of professional and social ethics are the norm in my company and my country?

* Is there a significant difference in my understanding and the best practices?

With the answers, you will be able to assess the amount of study you need to do, and how close or far you are from the PMP Certification exam.

3. Filling up the PMP Certification Application Form: The next thing you should do is to fill up your PMP Certification application at the PMI website. It generally gets approved within a week, if not audited, and you can then straight away take the Code given to you to schedule your exam at the Prometric website.

In Singapore, there are now 2 Prometric centers, and it takes at least 6 to 8 weeks before you can get a free slot for the exam. This is a boon in disguise, because you DO need atleast 6-8 weeks of earnest study time, to fill the knowledge gap, and prepare for the PMP exam properly. After all, you do want to pass it in your first attempt. It isn't cheap and you are probably stealing time away from your family, so get it right the first time.

4. Firm up Your Study Plan in earnest: Once you know your PMP certification exam date, you can then work backwards to today, and calculate the amount of days you have left at hand. This is all you have now, so use it wisely.

A good study plan is to ensure you have enough time to read, understand, and try your hand at mock PMP exam questions.

Get the PMP Exam Preparation Books, and start reading. You can also start with the PMBOK Guide, but it not a very easy read, and is commonly known as the remedy to cure insomnia. If you can't sleep, start reading any chapter, and within a couple of pages, you might be fast asleep.

My recommendation is to read Rita Mulchahy's PMP Exam Prep Book, 6th Edition, which aligns to the PMBOK Guide Fourth edition. By the way, both books are easily available at Amazon or your nearest bookstore.

5. Suggested PMP Exam Study Plan:

Assuming that you have atlest 6 weeks before the exam, spend the time as follows

First Round of Basic Study - Rita's PMP Exam Prep Book

* 2 Days for Project Management Framework

* 18 Days for the 9 Knowledge Areas (2 days each)

* 2 Days for Professional & Social Responsibility

For each day of study, read the base material, and create a mind map or write the key points on 4 by 6 index cards. You must attempt a few mock exam questions from each knowledge area, as you finish reading it. This will give you an idea of the kind of questions that come in the PMP exam.

Second Round - Test the Knowledge

Now that you have done one full round, start every morning and spend 5 minutes drawing the 47 Project Management processes on a piece of paper - just like on the PMBOK guide. Initially it will be hard, but with daily practice, you will be able to make it very quickly.

The second thing you need to do daily is to write down the Earned Value Calculation Formaulae on a daily basis too. Soon you will be able to write them out quickly. Make this a habit, and it will prove to be of immense use in the exam.

* 2 Days to review the entire mind map or cards, and make sure you still remember the key concepts.

* 1 Day to do a full mock test of 200 questions. There are many free or paid tests available that you can use to access your level of understanding, speed of answering and depth of knowledge. I found this online test to be a very Good PMP Exam Simulator.

Third Round - Strengthening

* 10 Days to review the framework and 9 knowledge areas each from PMBOK Guide, Fourth Edition. Each day do 30-40 mock exam questions

* 1 Day to do another full mock test of 200 questions. You should see huge improvement from the past test, or else you need to identify the knowledge areas where you seem to score the least.

* 4 days - study only the weak knowledge areas again, and attempt to fill the gap in your knowledge.

These 3 stages alone take about 40 days, which is about 6 weeks.

Take Action - Write Down Your PMP Study Plan

Like everything else in life, Success is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration. Go ahead, get up and take some action. Don't just keep reading post after post and get overwhelmed by the exam.

One of the best things we have seen that really works is to write your Study Plan, and then share it with your spouse, friends, and inform me. Once you share it with someone, you have shown your commitment, and you are more inclined to follow through. Your friends, spouse, and I will encourage you and make sure you have the time to study, and get the PMP Credential to boost your career options and credibility.

Ultimate Objective of this PMP Study Plan

You need to think differently to gain the PMI's perspective of answering questions, and learn how to think and act in the correct way, the best way, which aligns wth the PMI's way of thinking, to get the most out of any situation, and ace the PMP exam easily, on your first attempt, and be qualified, certified with PMP.

ICertGlobal offers Online PMP Exam Prep Training. Currently, we have students enrolled from  50+ different countries, including USA, Canada, UAE, India, Singapore, Saudi Arabia etc. It gives you the flexibility to study for the PMP Exam anytime, anywhere, at your own pace.

To date I have coached hundreds of students in face-to-face PMP Training Preparation classes and shared valuable 

PMP resources.

After getting my PMPCredential, I often wondered how I could share my new found knowledge of passing the exam easily on my first attempt, and impart it to people struggling to get the PMP certification, but don't have a clue