#of course I had to wedge Homelander into this ask that had nothing to do with him.

[arealtrashact]

I know you mostly love the Supes in the Boy’s (which same) but I gotta ask— what animals would the Boys be? Can’t stop thinking of Hughie as a giraffe lol

Hmmm . . .

Butcher - Billy Goat

Frenchie - Skunk

Kimiko - Tanuki

MM - Rottweiler

Hughie - Stag ( I like the idea of him having a similar enough silhouette to Butcher that he could mistake him for Lenny when he's soused )

[mithrilhearts]

PLOT BUNNY #1 ↳ LED ONLY BY THE STARS

Summary: When S.H.I.R.E. operative Bilbo Baggins teams up with extraterrestrial fugitive Thorin II Oakenshield and his company, a race across the galaxy to destroy the Arkenstone-Prototype begins. Bouncing between planets, the duo must face hardship from Thorin's home planet, and find a way to destroy the stone without destroying Thorin in the process-for the Arkenstone is quite literally the heart of Thorin.

If you want to see this fic in the future, be sure to like, reblog, and/or comment! Feedback is welcome, and I can’t wait to see what fic wins the raz2k! Check out the MASTERPOST to see the other plot bunnies!

Secret as it was, hardly anything new ever came to the S.H.I.R.E. headquarters. That was how the ‘aware’ hobbits liked it, just as much as the oblivious ones liked their daily routines and lack of anything overly jostling. Comfort came in a variety of forms, and for those nestled within the Farthings, a set of two planets tucked away in the undisturbed corner of the galaxy of Arda, comfort came with consistency; with always knowing what tomorrow would bring.

However, there always was the threat of change, and that’s where S.H.I.R.E. stepped in.

S.H.I.R.E. - the Secret Homeland Interplanetary Regency for Extraterrestrials. A small group of tech and alien-savvy hobbits who operated as peace monitors for their planets, and were the only halflings aware of the rest of the galaxy’s existence. Beyond the stars laid other worlds much like the Farthings, but also more advanced and cutthroat. It’s what kept the peaceful hobbits to themselves, as well as blissfully unaware.

For Bilbo Baggins, a respectable gentlehobbit of the Shire who called the planet of West Farthing his home and S.H.I.R.E. as a part of his everyday life, a little excitement wouldn’t hurt. In a world dull and unchanging, that wish may have been lamented a time or two upon the rare sighting of a shooting star.

Well, you know what they say–be careful what you wish for, especially on shooting stars that could be anything but stars.

There he stood, his eyes drawn to a clipboard and a paper with a variety of scribbles on it. They were his scribbles, mind you, but Bilbo would insist they were of the utmost importance. Security checks within the S.H.I.R.E. headquarters were a common routine, as just above the headquarters rested the Farthings’ gateway between the two planets, offering safe passage from East and West Farthings for hobbits of all ages. While many things didn’t happen within the Farthings, safety never took a holiday. Or that was the crappy slogan that no one was really in favor of.

“East gate is secure, check,” Bilbo mused to himself as he scribbled off one more check for his nightly routine before his shift would be taken over by someone else. He quite preferred the night shifts as things were typically calmer, and he found himself with his nose in a book most of the time. It was an easy gig, and one that had landed in his lap by mistake, but far too interesting to look away from. “And now for the West gate…” Pausing in his thoughts and staring towards one of the old-fashioned notice boards that housed several little important notes, the hobbit gave a small hum to himself.

Notes about future meetings, about anything on their radar, and of course, genuinely polite protocols that needed to be followed to maintain a happy and healthy work environment. 

A fizzing noise rang in the small bud wedged into Bilbo’s right ear, causing the hobbit to stop his gazing and focus back on the task at hand. Pressing two fingers against the little bud in his ear, Bilbo tried to listen for any voice on the other end of all of the static but was met with nothing but the uncomfortably crackling sound in his ear.

“This is Bilbo, do you copy?” 

No response.

“Ceredic?” Bilbo asked carefully, the static intensifying and the faint sounds of incoherent yelling reaching Bilbo’s ear. “Ceredic Langham! Do you copy? What’s going on?” Cederic Langham, another hobbit who was monitoring this evening with Bilbo, just as they did almost nightly. He was usually the lad which Bilbo heard from at this hour, so the assumption held some merit at the very least.

“Something’s–” The voice fizzled off, static making Bilbo wince in the process, “–the stratosphere!”

“Hold on, I’ll be right there and we can assess the situation together–” But Bilbo’s words were cut off by complete and utter silence. The world around him was far too quiet for his liking. Bilbo’s ears dropped at the implication that something could have happened to his comrade, but when a rumbling sound grew closer and closer, Bilbo pried his hand away from his ear and stared towards the ceiling. The rumble turned into a piercing screech until the impact of a spacecraft plummeting into the ground made every other sound or feeling irrelevant, knocking Bilbo off his feet and several sheets of important scribbles out of his hands.

A loud alarm system began to sound off, flashing red lights and the automated system that ran through the entire S.H.I.R.E. headquarters piercing the air.

Security Breach, West Gate. Headquarters under enemy fire. Lockdown initiated.

Sitting up and shaking his head to knock a bit of the immediate shock from his mind, Bilbo wasn’t quite sure what he was staring at. A cloud of smoke, the hissing sound of some sort of spacecraft malfunctioning or breaking down, and of course, the sounds of the alarms still ringing in his ears that made him feel the pulse of each buzz and beep in his very bones.

This was unlike anything Bilbo had ever seen during his years under the awareness of other lifeforms out there, and part of his heart felt as if it were trying to crawl up his throat in fear. Hobbits were peaceful creatures, even those who simply monitored that peace. “Pull yourself together Bilbo…you were trained for this…” except putting a few cautious words into action was hardly a comforting thought as Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut. The only thing that got him to his feet was the idea that his comrades, and potentially his home planet, were in danger and he could be a driving force against the bad that had crash-landed into the very place that was supposed to be safest.

Easing to his feet and continuing to hear the pulse of his heartbeat, and that of the alarms, pounding in his ears, the only hobbit on the scene was determined to investigate. Even if he was a bit fearful. Bilbo wasn’t sure what to expect, he simply grabbed at the laser gun that rested at his side, but had never been used aside from practice during his training.

With his finger on the trigger, jittery as ever, Bilbo hugged the walls and eased his way towards the wreckage that could have ended his life had he been ten feet further down the way for his nightly routine security check.

Hearing the sounds of footsteps, Bilbo ducked himself into the nearest side hall that he could manage. Watching carefully and crouching to the ground as six sets of boots tramped along the ground, Bilbo wasn’t sure he’d ever seen creatures like these before. Their boots admittedly were making his stomach churn in the process of his observation.

“Eyes open! It’s here somewhere…” One burly-looking creature with an abundance of hair to his chin ordered, leading his boot-wearing comrades further into the building with laser guns far more impressive than Bilbo’s in hand. “The King will not tolerate failure again.”

A king? 

Bilbo’s brows knit together as the small platoon of bearded lifeforms continued on their way, allowing the hobbit to sneak by to get a gander at the wreckage just ahead. There sat a small fighter ship, its entire front crunched from impact, and the glass that would have shielded the pilot smashed to bits and pieces. Smoke was coming out of the tail end, and the buttons within were flashing in alarm. “By Yavanna’s garden…” Bilbo breathed as he lowered his laser gun, trotting towards the wreckage out of pure curiosity and poking his nose where it likely shouldn’t be.

The spacecraft was definitely foreign based on design and the emblems engraved into the side, and Bilbo was certain it was familiar for a reason as he continued to look around.

“Whoever was here…” Bilbo mused, his eyes observing the way the glass had moved and other parts of the broken down spacecraft had been shifted, “... escaped,” and the specks of red that graced parts of the glass and metal told him yet another thing. “A painful escape.”

Whatever crawled out of this spacecraft had been injured. Whether that was from impact or from the glass itself, Bilbo couldn’t tell. That wasn’t necessarily part of his job, but locating the creature, whatever it was, was definitely within the job description. Not that anyone figured they’d have to adhere to that part of the work manual! 

While Bilbo was examining the inside of the vessel, his ears gave a small wiggle at the faint sound of beeping. They were slow and rhythmic, and coming from the inside of that fighter spacecraft, but the more he examined, the more oblivious to the world he became. A single red dot of light appeared on the back of his head, followed by another, and another after that until there was six total. Six total guns aimed and ready to fire from those six sets of boots that he had hidden from earlier.

One of the bearded figures decked out in armor of a very flashy sort started yelling something fierce. A language that Bilbo didn’t recognize as his ears stood on end, nearly jumping out of his skin in the process. Ducking his head down with eyes screwed tight and dropping his weapon in the process to cover his ears, an arm jutted out to block the hobbit’s face as he waited for that sudden end to hit him. Literally. But it was the sound of metal plunking off of something that sounded similar to glass that pulled Bilbo’s attention away from his near-death experience. 

By the time he was able to see the energy shield blocking his head from being shot through, another arm jutted out and grabbed at the back of his coat, yanking him back behind the nearest wall and practically shoving him aside.

“Get out of the way!” A lower pitched voice hissed, reaching around Bilbo to start returning the fire that was coming towards this corner of the hall, a smoking spacecraft still at the center of the chaos and serving as something of a shield through its broken pieces. Broken pieces that had clearly left their mark in the form of a scar on a handsome face, and yet vaguely familiar.

“Excuse me!” Bilbo objected, practically stomping his feet as his heart felt caught in his throat, uncertain of where this bold indignation came from considering his life had nearly been ended by a few invaders. “There are things called manners, and–” That’s when Bilbo truly got a good look at his savior, and he was immediately taken back to the notice board, as well as many digital advisements about a fugitive out of…what was it…Erebor? Some far-off planet that hardly ever made news within S.H.I.R.E.’s headquarters.

Swallowing thickly as the known fugitive continued to peek around the corner of the wall, exchanging fire with those after him, Bilbo could only silently recount to himself the various charges and accusations made against this otherworldly being. And yet…somehow, Bilbo had managed to be plucked out of the line of fire by someone who was supposedly a high-risk sort. Armed and dangerous, the warnings had said–and Bilbo could vouch, this one was definitely armed, just as he was dangerous to those going against him.

“I know your face…” The hobbit stammered as he patted down his coat only to realize that his only weapon was currently sitting on the floor far out of reach. It was no use. The S.H.I.R.E.-issued gun was probably being pelted by bullets or laser beams, whatever it was these aliens had come armed with. “You’re the one everyone’s been looking for! The one from all of the alerts–”

“What of it?!” The dwarvish fugitive snarled, instantly sparking an agitation from Bilbo that was hardly like him and his typically polite demeanor.

“You’re a criminal! I–I should be placing you under arrest for everything you’ve done, and let the higher-ups deal with you.” Or send him back to Erebor where he would be tried there…or whatever it was they did with their own. Bilbo felt a little guilty at the thought knowing full well that not everyone was as peaceful or understanding as the Shirefolk. “Let’s…let’s not make this difficult. Please place your hands behind your head and come along quietly Mister Alien Fugitive.”

“By Mahal’s great forges, you have got to be kidding me right now–”

“First you crash into our headquarters uninvited, and then your fellow kinsmen try to shoot me while trying to apprehend you. That doesn’t even count the crimes you’ve committed outside of my domain! What do you expect me to do?”

The dwarf had ducked down slightly against the wall, the beeping from the spacecraft growing in volume, as well as speed. “I expect you to run and not look back.” A small shooing motion was waved Bilbo’s way before all attention was around the corner once more. 

“But–”

“Do you not see the several armed dwarves shooting at you that aren’t me!?” The dwarf snarled back and it caused Bilbo to pause, albeit briefly.

Bilbo wasn’t sure whether to run like his sketchy savior had advised, or start stomping his feet like an ill-behaved child that wasn’t getting his way. All he could determine was that he did not like feeling so insignificant, especially when he was supposed to be helping keep the peace. “I can see just fine, thank you.” 

“I don’t have time for this,” came another snarl before that transparent blue shield faded from the dwarf’s arm where his bracer was no longer glowing, and a firm hand gripped at Bilbo’s wrist to drag him along. A hobbit gripped in one hand, a gun in the other. “Move your feet, Halfling!”

“Let me go! I’m not your hostage!” Bilbo tried to dig his heels in, but was only dragged along even more until a small bit of distance was placed between the pair and the downed spacecraft…that promptly detonated. It caused them both to pause and look back towards the walls crumbling even more. “That…that explains the beeping…”

“You’re welcome.”

“For what?! Dragging me into your nonsense, Mister Alien Fugi–”

“It’s Thorin,” came a low and threatening growl with the release of Bilbo’s arm.

“Fine. Thorin.”

“What kind of peacekeeper are you?” Thorin huffed, fixing Bilbo with a harsh glare as they were now a few feet apart. “I saved your life, and now you’re saving mine by letting me go. We’re square, Halfling.”

And Thorin walking off at a brisk pace was enough of a dismissal in itself, and one that Bilbo was having nothing of. He followed at the dwarf’s heels carefully.

“Hobbit, and my name is Bilbo, don’t call me that again.”

“Fine.”

“Now, kind as your initial gesture might have been, to which I am grateful, but if I let you escape…I’ll lose my place in this entire organization! You’re wanted throughout the entire galaxy, you know this? Rumor has it you killed the crown prince–”

“False. He’s imprisoned, and I was trying to free him before my escape.”

Thorin hadn’t missed a beat on cutting Bilbo off, which was a trend going forward, much to the hobbit’s dismay.

“You threatened the King of Erebor–”

“I served him, far more than you’ll ever know. We’re family.” Unfortunately.

“And the hijacked spacecraft? I assume you didn’t steal that either?” Bilbo was working hard to keep up, his shorter legs already cramping up from the excitement, the running, and now trying to keep up with this dwarf’s stride.

“I’ll give you that one, but the rest is untrue.”

Bilbo liked to believe in the good that people harbored, but he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that not everyone was as sweet and peace-loving as most hobbits. His lips pursed in both doubt and contemplation as he mulled over Thorin’s objections and brief explanations. “You can’t possibly expect me to let you go.”

“I can.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m not the criminal here,” Thorin was tapping a closed fist against his bracer, which only remained dull in color where the crystals and buttons laid, earning an agitated sigh in response. “The King’s soldiers from Erebor–the ones that can and will kill you without warning–are out searching for a weapon, something so destructive that it could wipe your little patch of paradise out of existence. That’s who you’re after if you truly are intent on trying to establish peace.”

“If you’re trying to pull one over on me, it’s not going to work. We hobbits are far more clever than that–”

Thorin came to a halt, nearly having Bilbo collide into his back. “I can prove it.” The silence that enveloped them was good enough. The fact that the hobbit wasn’t babbling to no end was a good sign, and much as Thorin loathed to expose anything about him to a stranger…it was probably best to get this Bilbo off his back. Perhaps after pointing him towards the outer route of the space station between the Farthings.

The pause was brief, and as Thorin turned, tugging at his coat and shirt, the glimmer of a gem embedded where his heart should have been was hard to miss. It was enough to draw Bilbo’s eye, those hazels looking rather dull in comparison to the variety of colors that gem radiated. It looked like it was pulsing with life, with veins of color within. It was unlike anything Bilbo had ever seen before and his mouth opened at the sight.

“This is what they’re after, whether it’s attached to me or not. The farther this is away from Thror, the better off we’ll all be.” 

Bilbo’s fingers twitched with anticipation as he almost felt the need to touch the embedded gemstone, but kept his hands to himself, especially as Thorin covered that part of his exposed self once more. “What…is it?”

“The Arkenstone, and if you’re truly a seeker of peace, you’ll point me towards the outer route of your space station, and let me go.” 

A sigh escaped Bilbo, feeling something crawling around in the pit of his stomach that felt a little bit like a sickness. Something uncomfortable and unexpected, and as he looked Thorin in the eyes, he swore there was a glimmer of truth to those sky blue eyes. “Because you saved my life, and that’s all. I’m not saying I believe you, but…I’m giving you this one chance.” Those hazel eyes narrowed, a clear show of skepticism. “Now…you’re not planning to hijack another spacecraft, are you? What’s at the space station anyway?”

“My company,” the words were spoken with a faint upwards curve of Thorin’s lips. A company of his most trusted allies–a company that was most likely in hysterics with the recent crash of Thorin’s spacecraft. “Lead on then, we haven’t time to waste. Thror’s men will find a way around the wreckage sooner rather than later…or simply blast through it.”

[loveiscosmicsin]

Consumed

Summary: He loved Ebony and she loved energy drinks, Ignis and Aranea couldn't be any more different and yet, when the world is threatened by darkness and ten years are upon them for the return of the King of Light, their friendship grew in the most unexpected ways.

Notes: I just... really wanted to write a self-indulgent fic about platonic Ignis and Aranea, Aranea having a chip on her shoulder and troubled and traumatic past, but those two connecting somehow. Both have a form of addiction, as it took Aranea years to get past it, Ignis will have a long road ahead of him to recover from his.

This is posted on my Ao3 because I know how hard it is to read fics on my blog lol

-

Ignis' head pounded repeatedly. The source of the pain was unknown, but it tenaciously lingered, easily triggered by even the most insignificant of sounds or the slight unintentional movement. There was no other pain like it and he had known greater suffering. A splash of colors exploded ominously in his head. He had to lie down and not even his mind registered the soft mattress under him the moment he collapsed on the bed. "Specs?" "Noct?" Ignis shot upward, only to immediately lie back down, clutching his head. He groaned. Now, his muscles ached unbearably. Closing his eyes couldn’t expel the pain as it had in the past. "Hey, hey, don't get up on my account." The king’s laughter was forced, almost on the verge of mirrored agony. Quietly, so quiet that it forced Ignis to strain to listen, he asked, "You okay? You took off your glasses." Ignis turned his wrists over his eyes, a futile effort to hide the scars, fragments of an tumultuous ordeal. He wished to lay his eyes on Noctis, but not when he’s like this. "I'll be fine. Just a slight headache." 

"You've been getting those lately. The stress of whole recruiting and strategizing thing finally getting to you?" "I just need some rest. I won't let this stop me." The mattress squeaked as the king took a seat beside the advisor's form. "Put your head on my lap." The advisor obeyed as a moth drawn to a flame, content with staying like this for a while when his cheek touched Noctis’ thigh. "Do warn me if you have to get up." "I'm not going anywhere." Soft lips pressed lightly on Ignis' forehead. "Move your hand." Calloused fingers rubbed small circles in the advisor's temple. Ignis moaned. "Am I doing it right?" The king's voice was husky, breathy to avoid inflicting the older man with more pain. "Yes..." Ignis swallowed, tilting his head to meet with Noctis' hands. "This is perfect." “It won’t be like this for long.” “It won’t... be?” Ignis echoed, brow furrowing. “What’s that?” “This,” Noctis answered, vaguely as he delicately traced the faint scarring of Ignis’ face. “What you’re doing now. There’s no question that everyone’s behind you a hundred percent and I’m gonna be the one to meet you half way for what you’ve done. Wait for me a little longer.” “Noct...” The name tasted bittersweet the moment it left Ignis’ lips upon waking up. Noctis was gone and he was never present to begin with no matter how much Ignis wished it wasn’t the case. The king’s fingers had ghosted over the advisor’s face and kindled the flame in his heart as if they were physically together just a moment ago. The visage of his beloved followed him in dreams as they had in his wake, vivid and unrelenting. But Ignis knew the truth. Noctis had departed for where he couldn’t bring those he loved with him, no matter how deeply they cared for him in return. Even for one such as Ignis, who had been branded with the Old King’s’ favor. It was a path that Ignis couldn’t follow. And it was why he had to let him go. The King of Light left no instructions nor parting words, but that didn’t mean that Ignis was left without purpose. Far from it, he prepared for the imminent threat lurking in the shadows because of the knowledge imparted to him. Ignis held a love, pure and unyielding, for Noctis, somehow it never dulled in absence and through every action and countermeasure resonated of the young king’s high influence. If Noctis was unwilling to follow the prophecy, then Ignis would’ve fled with him, hide him from— But that wouldn’t have been Noctis if it was. He never one for inaction or to remain silent for long even crushed by duty, one of the earliest lessons taught by the late king. Since the fall of Insomnia, the events thrown in their paths including Ardyn’s trap in the Zegnautus Keep, led him to demand the Crystal’s power of his own volition. By donning on the Ring of the Lucii, Ignis realized that he was the final crucible in this destiny. Gladiolus and Prompto followed Ignis’ lead without question. He couldn’t explain why they must prepare for the war, not fully. To call them dreams would diminish their significance, to call them visions would delving in the supernatural when no blood of the Oracle coursed through his veins, to call alternate realities implied that there was a degree of control in steering toward feasible probabilities than the worst outcomes but they were memories. His memories, good and bad, and they existed for a reason. Fragments of multiple branches that while Ignis of this timeline hadn’t endured, but tried and failed. While his own death and Ravus’ were averted, Noctis’ departure was inevitable. Noctis was still the chosen vessel to restore balance to Eos. The knowledge of these visions allowed Ignis to defy the stars themselves without hesitation so that this time Noctis‘ light won’t go extinguished. How this would end would be up to them to decide. Ignis still had his eyes, healed due to the king’s quick thinking. Noctis was to return. “But when he does, what then?” Ignis found himself asking this, interrupting his own thoughts. The prophecy still would have to end with Noctis. The memories showed only so much and led to more questions, carrying answers that he must link himself. This route didn’t reveal the king’s death. The truth could only be revealed after waiting. Ignis had done five months of it so far. - “It wouldn’t kill you to take a break, you know,” Aranea scolded with a hint of disappointment and impatience in her voice. Ignis smiled, nostalgic by the familiarity. In another history, Aranea had told Ignis to “stop navel-gazing” when she found him fishing in Galdin Quay. She wasn’t a fan of the pastime. “Isn’t that what I’m doing now, Aranea?” Ignis simpered, looking pleased with himself when his companion scowled. “And how well does Cidney take your advice?” He already knew the answer to that. “I don’t waste my breath on battles I can’t win,” Aranea said, holding the can Ignis placed in front of her with reserved scrutiny. Seeing that it wasn’t a can of Ebony invading her space, she popped the tab open. “So long she doesn’t skip meals and trouble doesn’t go out finding her, that’s one worry off my plate.” Aranea Highwind was one of the allies Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto recruited. Despite the initial meetings on the battlefield and a temporary partnership coerced by Ardyn Izunia, Aranea held no grudge for the encounters as they were tied to their allegiances. Aranea and her men became deserters of the Niflheim Empire long before the attack in Altissia, opting for a more honest line of work in search and rescue. Before the Empire, they were daemon hunters, freelancers of sorts since they didn’t belong to any of the headquarters. When Aranea joined the fight, Biggs and Wedge happily followed her lead wherever it took them. Though the two had embarked different roads in life, Aranea and Ignis’ paths met again for a reason. Aranea refused payment after hearing what had transpired and what events were to come after the death of the Oracle and the King of Light’s absence, claiming that the Gil received from the hunts were more than plenty to keep them afloat. They recognized danger and were formidable soldiers, Ignis acknowledged how invaluable they were. The ex-mercenary commodore found herself at home with their merry band of the king’s royal retainers, veterans, Hunters, displaced survivors, mechanics, technicians, chocobo caretakers, magazine editors, famed researchers, journalists-turned-jewel artisans, and aspiring chefs. Even now, when the two had nothing in common, Aranea wasn’t a fan of coffee and often scoffed whenever Ignis drank it in her presence, Ignis appreciated all that she’s done. At first, the mercenary had a habit of keeping her distance except to her subordinates, professional to a fault though that front banished when she began opening up to others, breaking her own “don’t get familiar” rule. And she wasn’t the first former imperial Ignis had allied and befriended. The tactician found one such relationship with Ravus. Though with the former prince and high commander, it was more of a quiet and dependable camaraderie whereas Aranea was direct about showing concern for those she deemed worthy of her time. Aranea never talked about her personal life. No homeland, family, friends, her occupation before the daemons and the Empire, or how she met her lieutenants to share willingly or when requested. Not even Biggs and Wedge disclosed information on their boss. Like her, they focused on the present. It took Ignis weeks to act on a suspicion and have Aranea admit that she was seeing Cidney romantically. (It was very disconcerting to hear that their relationship began when the head mechanic slapped the ex-commodore due to a misunderstanding. But the latter had laughed it off as she touched her cheek, implying that she received something better that day.) But Aranea was transparent about her values and who she is as a person, even about her favorite brand of energy drink. Still, if people were judged for who they were in the past, then perhaps Ignis and Aranea wouldn’t be standing here right now. “You sure you wanna go with this?” Aranea asked, wrapping protective cloth over her hands. “Walking and breathing with your eyes shut is one thing, but fighting is another thing entirely.” “You’ve taught me to do more than that,” Ignis took a strip of cloth and placed it over his eyes, welcoming the darkness. “If I fall, best be it in practice and not when our lives are on the line.” Ignis was blind once and Noctis restored his vision. That time. The other times he wasn’t as fortunate. Should his vision be disrupted once more, then what would he do then? He hadn’t attained the years of training as he had in past histories. Aranea possessed an impressive resume of natural skills and abilities separate from the use of Magitek and unsurprisingly, underwent specific training should she lose capability of her senses to complete a mission. That included sight. Ignis readied his stance and held up his hands. “I don’t want...” He just didn’t want to give Noctis or anyone else a a reason to think less of him. The history where Gladiolus and Noctis considered leaving him behind hurt. Aranea was silent as she conceded with a sigh. “Say no more, I get it. But don’t think that I do means I’m gonna hold back.” Training with Aranea was brutal even though she was holding back. Ignis found himself on his knees, betrayed by his hearing and intuition led him to second-guess where his opponent was, was humiliating. It taught him to discard what he already learned, have Aranea take the figurative walking cane he clutched to and sweep the rug from under him, and build up a fighting style without the use of his eyes. Strip all that he knew and realize how powerless he was. His soul and body refused to live with that vulnerability, it craved for power and domination, to defeat Aranea. Though it had been months since the Zegnautus Keep, the Ring of the Lucii marked him, its screams and whispers crawled from the back of his mind and into his heart. What power he thought he wielded, held him at the throat and it lingered still, threatening to unlock that primitive subconscious at any time, hungered to kill and derive pleasure from it. The Ring wasn’t in his possession, it was with its true owner and chosen vessel. The absence made Ignis jealous and made him forget. Ignis was on the ground, clutching at his wrist, the one that bore the ring and all he saw was red and purple clouding his vision as his screams clawed his throat raw. Aranea was at his side immediately. “Wh-what’s wrong? Are you okay? I barely—” She forcibly pinned Ignis’ wrists down as he thrashed against her. “Hey, snap out of it!” “F-fire...” Ignis rasped, his chest rose and fell as he struggled to breathe. “My flesh is—” The mercenary took the front of his shirt, only for the tactician’s hands to weakly fight her off. “This isn’t the time to be shy!” Aranea ripped his shirt, sending buttons flying and stupefied, she gawked at the scars etched on his skin. The inflamed, angry lashings had engulfed Ignis’ chest which extended to his arms and seemed to pulsate under the commodore’s cool fingers. Seeing the pity and helplessness written in her features, Ignis tried his hardest to explain that it’s not as bad as it looked. There was nothing she could do for him. Ignis didn’t see Aranea until three days later in the middle of the night. “Hey,” the mercenary knocked on the door frame before entering. Uncharacteristic of her as she normally just entered without announcing. “How’re you feeling?” “I’m doing better,” Ignis answered honestly. “Would you like a drink?” He turned his back to retrieve a chilled can of energy elixir. Perhaps he owed her an explanation for the other day. “Actually, I...” Aranea held out a shirt. “Here. Wedge knows his way around a needle. You won’t find a thread out of place.” “I... Thank you.” Aranea’s conflicted expression revealed there was another reason she was here. “I won’t ask what happened or why, it’s really none of my business.” She took out a small white bottle. “Went around asking the docs so I wouldn’t be doing this unless I’m absolutely sure about it.” Ignis took the bottle, unfamiliar with the name on the label. “What’s this?” “Helps with nerves and muscle spasms,” she explained, crossing her arms. “But it’s one helluva drug. Easy to abuse, harder to break it off if you get addicted. Just like any other drug.” “You speak from experience.” “Yeah. From a long time ago.” In other words, not an open invitation to unload that period of her life any time soon. “Aranea,” he began, intending to return the bottle. “I’m afraid this doesn’t—”

The Dragoon shook her head. “C’mon, it’s not like I’m forcing you to take it. But my conscience won’t let this go until I know you have it with you.” She waved a hand as if that’s all that needed to be said. “Take it if it gets too much to handle, okay?” Ignis swallowed. “Very well.” Aranea turned on her heel, exiting. “And lay off the coffee. You should be sleeping more.”

Ignis was stunned and shook his head, chuckling. “Says the woman who doesn’t know there’s a time and place for these matters.”

[blackblood28]

The End of a Stalemate - BunnyRibbit Angst

She will always remember the corpse of a little girl, her brain refused to let the image fade. The memories of the small child telling Hana how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, how she was her hero. And only an hour later did D.Va find her corpse lying in the rubble of Lucio's destroyed concert.

They had been attacked, no one knew how or who, but people died.

Hana had held that little girl's body and cried. She fought as hard as she could, but what kind of hero was she if she couldn’t even save a little girl?

The idea of how many have died during this fight wasn’t ignored, she knew the body count was high, and would only raise higher as time went on. Every fight, every new town, city, country, people were always going to die due to war. She knew how many innocent lives she watched perish, she trained herself not to count but the knowledge of how high the number was haunted her. She’s watched friends and family die, she watched her homeland destroyed over and over again. There was nothing she could ever do, and nothing could stop the destruction in Korea.

The giant omnic will always seem impenetrable. Nothing anyone did was enough to even hinder its path of destruction. Not when there were so many other omnics that seemed to defend it. Every day she watched the news, and everyday the news never changed. Destruction and death littered the streets. Even now, all these images would replay in her head and everytime she closed her eyes in a silent room she'd hear screams.

Lucio’s music usually helped, but tonight it would not keep away the nightmares. The omnic was back and terrorizing her home and there was nothing she could do. She was stuck here in the Overwatch base where she was unable to act.

She felt afraid and powerless…

Useless.

And she hated it. She couldn't lay here anymore and let those people live in fear and watch so many die, to watch their homes be torn apart. So many sleepless nights plagued with nightmares where she laid down and cried. She was done with that. She couldn't let it win, that omnic would not beat her, she would destroy it, push the fight in Korea's favor and get the high score.

Nothing could shift her mind, she had a plan, and she wouldn’t give anyone a chance to change her mind because no one was going to find out. She readied herself for battle, and left swiftly, taking her mech and leaving the base without a sound. She had a source that could get her a jet that could store her mech, after calling to meet, it should only take about two or so hours to get there. Impatient as she was she just had to keep telling herself it will soon be over.

The pilot asked why she needed to be in Korea at three in the morning, “a very important meeting” was all she told him.

Lucio had a bad feeling, he didn't know why, but he did and it wouldn't let him fall back asleep. It was four am but something kept pushing him, telling him to get up, that he had someplace to be. The feeling didn't fade in the slightest so he finally stood and walked into the hall. With no real destination he just let his feet carry him until he for some reason ended up at D.Va’s door.

He knocked and called to her softly, vocally nervous about whatever this feeling was. They do this all the time when either one is having trouble sleeping or dealing with episodes of stress. But she did not reply, he didn’t even hear her shift. He called once more a bit louder, but still there was nothing. Panic set in instantly and he opened her door, her bed was empty, and when he called again there was nothing. Her room was empty.

He took a breath to calm his nerves, maybe she had just went to the kitchen area to get a drink or a snack. He checks and she's not there, so he checks any of her usual hiding spots, but nothing. Hana was nowhere to be seen and he was starting to worry.

“Athena, where is D.Va?” he asked out loud, his last chance of finding her.

“She left the base around three-fifteen AM.”

“Left? Where?” Why did she leave without saying anything, without even a note?

“She left here in her battle uniform and took off in her mech, she did not specify location, or say anything I overheard.”

“Athena, wake up the others, tell them D.Va is missing.”

“Already done, but I believe there may be something of interest in what Ms. Song had been watching late last night.” Athena turned the TV on in the recreational room, a news station covering the war in Korea.

Their estimated time of arrival was ten minutes, when Athena turned the news on once again.

“D.Va has just been spotted.”

On the screen was her pink mech running, her boosters speeding her through the piles of what once may have been homes. She was headed towards the gigantic omnic, showing no signs of stopping.

“She doesn’t think she’s going to fight that thing all on her own does she?” Mercy questioned.

“No, she knows she can't win that exchange on her own, D.Va’s smart enough to know that's a losing battle.”

“Well, if she was anything like me, she would blow it up!” Junkrat called out, only allowed to tag along incase they needed the extra damage. “She’d end it with a bang!” he ended his idea with his usual laughter. Lucio almost stopped breathing.

“There's a reason she didn’t tell us, she is ending it with bang,” he could almost puke at the thought that came next, “she doesn’t plan on coming back.”

“No… She couldn’t, she probably is just going to use her mechs self destruct and call another to get out!” But they all knew even Mercy herself didn’t believe her words.

“Tracer, can this thing get any faster?” Soldier 76 asked through his com.

“On it!”

 They had to stop before getting too close or risk being shot down and attracting the attention of any omnic. Lucio didn’t wait for a plan, he simply jumped out trying to get to where D.Va was as quick as he could. He tried her com, but all he got in response was silence, but he didn't stop trying. When he got to the clearing he watched as D.Va was boosting behind the omnic which she made her target.

“Why are you here Lucio?!” Her anger filled voice finally rang through his ear.

“What do you mean why?! Hana what do you think you’re doing? You can't fight that thing on your own!”

“You weren’t supposed to find out!” She wasn’t listening to him, “You weren’t supposed to come!” He could hear her sobs as she screamed.

“Why didn’t you want me to, D.Va?”

“You weren’t supposed to come and make me second guess! But I won’t Lucio,” Her mech lands on the omnic’s back, its arms wedged into wires. She held it there, knowing if she moved the mech would displace. “I can finally do something, once this one is destroyed the war should turn for the better! With its destruction Korea will no longer be trapped in a constant unmoving state of war! I’m finally at the final boss, and I’m going to get the high score!”

“Hana no! There’s gotta be another way!” He watched in horror as her mech began to glow blue and shake, but she did not jump out.

“If I get out my mech will fall, I can’t risk it.” her voice was terrifyingly calm, until she let out her final battle cry. “This is for all that you have ruined! Nerf this you son of a bitch!”

 Lucio fell to his knees and screamed out as the blast shook the earth under him. He shut his eyes, unable to watch his best friend kill herself to change the course of war. The entire world was quiet to him, as if the world honored his loss with a moment of silence. Even though fire cracked all over the field of rubble, and pieces of metal fell from the sky like meteors. As he opened his eyes he took the world in, all that was left of the scene...chunks of metal.

When he opens his eyes he could only see the pink remains of the mech he used to know so well. He couldn’t wrap his head around it all, just yesterday they were laughing while she streamed. He wished he had known, but how could he? She never said anything on this idea, she always said she was “too young to die”, why did that have to change?

She couldn’t be gone, she probably pulled a clutch moment and got out. She had to. She always said it herself, she's too young to die. Wasn't she? She has to be okay, right?

“Lucio...”

“Mercy.. She can’t be gone...” Was all he could say before he skated off. He couldn’t accept it, he refused. He searched for anything, any sign of her still being alive. But with each minute he searched, the more he panicked. He wasn’t getting anywhere, and he was losing hope with each step he took. “Hana, why?” he chuckled as he cried, “How did I never think you were crazy enough to try something like this?” he dropped to his knees and cried.

His ride landed behind him, Mercy did not wait until it was fully turned off before running to him. She stepped cautiously before kneeling besides him.

“You do not need to go through this alone Lucio.” she gently placed her hand on his shoulder as his body quivered with sobs.

“She- she's gone, Dr. Ziegler, I can't find anything of her to even give her a proper burial!” Mercy pulled him into her embrace trying to stay strong for him. But she had just lost a girl she saw as her own child, she could not control the tears.

“We will all look together, we will find something that will suffice, I promise.” he found comfort in the sound of her voice and clung to it like a lifeline.

 They held each other for a few minutes, until Lucio had stopped crying. Mercy dried his eyes and wiped away his tears.

“We all will mourn, my friend, you will not be left to mourn alone.” she reassured, but she noticed Lucio was not looking at her but at something behind her. “Lucio-?” he stands before she can ask what's wrong.

“Blue, there's something blue.” he sprints off, amping up his speed. There was something in the rubble, blue but tainted in red, and the closer he got the clearer the something became. It had to be Hana, it was definitely her uniform, but it was bloodstained and torn. Hope flowed through him at the first sight of any kind of sign of his friend.

“D.Va!” He called, deep down hoping for a response. But the sight of blood put a terrifying morbid thought in his head, that the limb he sees, may not be attached to anything. As he got close to the rubble the thought did not hinder him though in his need to know. He picked up a large piece of rubble and tossed it as best he could, and to the part of leg he saw before, more was attached. “I need help over here!”

It took seconds for Soldier 76 and Mercy to be at his sides pulling away as much rubble as they could, more of Hana’s body exposing with each chunk of rubble moved.

A good part of her body was burned from the blast, and even more of it was cut and bleeding. Mercy’s knees hit the ground instantly as she searched for any sign of a pulse. She brought out her Caduceus and quickly set it to healing and placed it besides her.

“She has a pulse but it's weak, we have to be careful,” Her hand moved to her com, “Tracer, we need the stretcher!”

“On my way!” it all happened so fast, and Lucio couldn’t wrap his head around it all, as quick as she was uncovered she was on the stretcher on the way to the ship and for some reason he just couldn't move, he just stood there and watched. Her blood on his hands as he helped them move her, but she was alive. Her heart still beat. A hand rested on his shoulder as Soldier 76 approached him.

“We hit a lucky break kid,” they look at each other, “I think she’ll be fine. Shes banged up to shit, but injuries can only keep a fighter like her down for some time.”

Three days since the blast and Hana has yet to even sture once. Dr. Ziegler said that she is stable and is simply in a comatose state as her body healed. So Lucio stayed and watched over her, only leaving her side to get food when Mercy could take his place. Every time either one would enter, they would say hello to Hana and tell her about their day. Whenever the two were in the room together they would always include Hana in their talks, hoping they could hear her.

Today Lucio was alone with her, Dr. Ziegler left after letting him leave to get food.

“I’m back Hana! Sorry that took so long, I got jumped by a worried Junkrat!” He sat down at the table next to her bed, “He’s worried about you, so is Roadhog, he says, but Roady would never actually say it”. He put the music back on before he began to eat, a playlist of the songs he knew was her favorite. “I told him you’re doing good, and he wanted me to tell you to get better and wake up soon, he misses you.” he takes a breath, “We all do, it just isn't the same without you here, Song. It’s so different without you, no interrupting your streams to show you a new song, no getting snacks at three AM, no Soldier yelling at the both of us to go to sleep.

I’m getting depressing aren’t I? Sorry Hana, it's just hard to adjust when things change so abruptly, ya know?” he was silent for a moment, staring at his plate. “I wish I knew you could hear me, it sucks thinking that maybe you haven’t heard a single thing,” he chuckles sadly, “you have things to worry about other than my problems and I’d be a jerk to just vent to you like this.” He shakes the thoughts away and sits up straight. “But if you can hear me, you better wake up soon! I have music for you to hear, and you have fans that have not left me alone since they saw the news. I told them you're doing fine, and I promise I didn't post any pictures, I’m saving that for when you wake up. But I am going to warn you, you probably have at least a billion messages on anything that you can be contacted on. You have everyone worried sick, and you pissed off a few by almost dying cause they love you too much.” staring at his food, he realized he simply wasn’t hungry anymore and he stood to toss it. He turned his chair to her, and sits down besides her, taking her hand in his. “I… I have no idea if you can hear me, but I miss you Hana. This place just isn't the same without you, I want you to come back. But I keep reminding myself that at least your heart is beating, that you’re still here.” his grip around her hand tightens as he fights back his tears again. “...Hana I thought you died, I thought I’d never see you again. When I was looking for you, every second with no signs hurt”. He laughed, “to think in just a few seconds, I watched everything end. But you won, the omnic got blown to pieces and the fight should finally shift from the stalemate it's been.”

He stood to turn the light down in the room, “I know it's selfish, but..” He couldn’t look at her, even though he knew she couldn't see him, “for a bit.. I hated you. I hated that you decided to die without a second thought to change the course of a war. Such a selfless thing, and here I am wishing you didn’t do it. I hated that you found it so easy to leave us, but I knew that wasn't the case.” he found the courage to face her again, “I thought you were gone, I thought that was it, but I’ve been thanking God since we found you, that you survived.”

He stepped closer and took her hand gently, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I shouldn’t be ranting to you like this, with my luck you’ll remember this whole thing. But that doesn’t really matter much at this point, does it? You, in a matter of one night changed the course of a war that has been stuck for years before you were even around.” He could only smile as he looked down at her, “You, Hana Song are a fucking crazy bitch, blowing yourself up to change history and then somehow surviving to watch the future play out. Only you could so something so wild”, his free hand moved to cup her cheek, feeling the curve of a healing scar. “But I guess that’s just one of the reasons I fell in love with you.” he leaned over to lightly kiss the small wound, before moving to get comfortable in his chair, his head rested on her lap. “Sorry I ranted your ear off, especially without really giving you a say in the matter. But wake up soon okay? We still have that song we need to finish and I have a few ideas I need to tell you about but you need to be awake for that so you can give me your opinion!” he could only chuckle at his own fake frustration, before simply looking at her. The peace in her expression for some reason calmed him, at least maybe in her sleep she didn’t feel the pain. His eyes closed as his own tiredness made itself know, “...I love you Hana.”

Days seemed to keep passing with no change, but Lucio was patient as he watched the time pass. The small cuts on her face and arms slowly began to fade into scars, the burns that marked her skin were doing what they could to heal. They were lucky that somehow the blast did not burn her skin as much as it could have, she would simply have scarring in spots that actually had contact. Like a spot she had that began above her left eye had stretched almost to her ear, the contact had burned the hair in that spot away, but he thought it looked cool as hell. It would be a scar with a story that would blow people's minds.

He played with her hand in his, careful not to move her too much. He ran his thumb over her knuckles and the bend in her fingers, and smiled as he left a small kiss on the back of her hand. He hummed along with the song that played from his speaker, moving her fingers to the beat like a dance. He brought her fingers to his lips and closed his eyes for a moment before they snapped open at her hands tightening around his. When he looked over at her he could see her brown eyes looking at him.

“Hey.” Was all she said in a voice so groggy.

“It’s been awhile.” was all he could say as he smiled wide.

“I have no idea what day it is, what happened?”

“You tried to blow yourself up, and only succeeded in destroying the omnic in Korea and changing the course of the war. Luckily enough you failed in dying.” She smiled.

“I get the high score?”

“I don’t think anyone in the world could ever top the score you got, let alone get anywhere near it.” her eyes closed as she took a breath.

“I feel like shit.” She tried to sit up, Lucio stood up trying to stop her.

“Careful, I would just lay down if I were you, most of your body is just a giant bruise.” But she didn’t stop, eventually getting herself in a sitting position she could handle.

“I feel it, but I can’t hug you if I’m laying down.” she patted the spot next to her, telling him to sit. He looked at her to state his worry, but she shushed him, so he sat down and faced him. “I put you through hell with how much you worried about me, I remember some of it.” she looked up at him and smirked deviously, “most of it.” he blushed in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. “And I’m sorry I put you through that,” she leaned into him, careful of her own wounds “ but I had to, the war never would have changed if I didn’t do something.”

“I know you did, and you won. But next time please talk to someone before you run and almost blow yourself up.”

“I promise, but I don’t think I’ll have another situation that would require me to take such drastic measures.”

“Good because I'm warning you as your best friend, if you ever scare me like that again I'll have to kill you, and if I don't somebody else probably will. But enough of that, are you hungry?” at the mention of food she nodded her head, hissing silently as she realized it was a bad idea. “Nice to see you have an appetite, I’ll run and get you something light. I’ll fetch Mercy on the way, she’s going to be happy you’re finally up.” He stood and began to walk towards the door, but a gentle hand grabbed his wrist.

“Lucio?” he turned to her, concern evident on his face.

“Whats up?”

“I love you too.” when her words settled in his head his brain stopped functioning, becoming a mumbling, blushing mess as he tried to respond somehow. She tugged him a bit closer, “now please actually kiss me since I’m finally conscious. The few times you kissed my cheeks was cute and all, but I kept waiting for you to actually kiss me to try and wake me up like sleeping beauty. But you’re too much of a gentleman to kiss a girl for the first time while she's unconscious.” he took a breath and sat back down in his spot.

“You sure about this?”

“If I wasn’t I wouldn’t tell you I love you.” she leaned forward to rest her hand on the side of his jaw. They both moved closer, lips finally meeting for the first time. His hand moved to her jaw, holding her close as he savored a moment that they both had been needing. D.Va was the first to let go, but Lucio knew that meant time was up for the moment.

“Wow.” was all he could say, blown completely away at just the idea of he just kissed Hana Song.

“Is that all I have to do to blow your mind?”

“Bun Bun, everything you do blows my mind.” she pushes him off.

“Hurry and get some food, I’m hungry!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Once he got out into the hall, he threw a fist in the air and cheered, before sprinting to get Mercy.

[tsw-story]

Chapter 35 - Pointy Ears

When the police car pulled up in front of the cemetery, there were already men at the scene studying the situation. It wasn't a large investigation, but tape was pulled around the entrance gates, and a couple of the men were taking notes. The door of the car pushed open, but the man who stepped out looked nothing like the rest of the police.

He had short, blonde hair, and the smoothest pale skin. He sported a dark suit, a bowler hat, and over his shoulder was a jet black umbrella. Following behind him, also from within the car, were two young woman who wrapped their eager arms around his shoulders as he gazed upon the scenario before him.

The man smiled. But it was no ordinary grin, because the teeth of an ordinary gentleman don't cause the women around them to swoon.

“Mr. Jackson,” the closest cop motioned. “I don't know what you know, but it looks like some punks might have set off firecrackers throughout the graveyard. A couple coffins were dug up though, so we're still trying to figure that out. The bodies are missing.”

In response, the dashing man rose a hand in the air. With his other, he brought the umbrella down, and wrapped his fingers around the hook to lean it like a cane.

“Please,” he finally spoke. “Call me Noah. And if you don't mind, I'd like to see it for myself.”

“All right, Noah. The women have to stay here.”

He nodded. With his free hand, he pulled the constricting arms off his body and set them aside. He smiled, and with a single look, the two ladies knew, but they were ultimately left blushing and speechless. Then, he followed the cop into the crime scene.

One of the policemen left behind whispered, “So what's with that guy?” to another.

“Don't know why we need his help either,” the other replied.

“So why's he here?”

“The chief said he had no choice. He was sent here by someone above him.”

“Above the chief?”

“Yeah. Guess this guy is a big deal. People say he sees things that everyone else misses. Maybe that's why he has his own groupies.”

“I wish I had that.”

One of the girls yelled out, “Go solve that crime, Noah~!”

The two made it to the center of the cemetery. It was quiet, despite the odd car's engine zooming by in the background, or the single shouting of one of his fan girls. Noah's eyes were oddly focused. He tipped up his cap, gazed to the sky, and let out a lengthy exhale.

“Firecrackers? Yeah. Right,” he whispered.

“What is it?” the cop asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

He continued on. Kneeling to the soil, he followed the trails of singed grass, foot prints, and small craters caused by peculiar impacts. He looked to the unnaturally dug up graves, and the opened but empty coffins. Finally, when he stood up straight once again, a shining and excited grin stretched up his cheeks.

“Finally,” he mumbled. “Another one.”

The cop frowned. “You going to let me in on anything?”

“There was definitely more than one person here last night. I'm afraid I can't explain further right now. I need to go, immediately. I'm going to have a lot of work on my hands here in Edmonton. More work than I've had in a long time.”

They made their way back out once again. In his short absence, the crowd had already grown exponentially. It seemed like his presence was discovered. A van from the local news team was present,  and a gentleman was present and prepared with a microphone in-hand.

Noah looked about. There were pedestrians growing around them with interests piqued. He was no stranger to this—the hum of the rolling cameras, the news anchor on the scene, the audience cheering him on. It was an immediate switch flicked in his mind. As soon as he approached the anchor, he grinned at the camera, and it was like he was born to be filmed.

“Ah. There he is now! The legend from Toronto, Noah Jackson,” said anchor.

“Hello there. Thank you, really. I appreciate that. So far, your city is beautiful,” Noah replied.

“And we're happy to have you. At least, I know I am, but some people find you to be odd and definitely eccentric. What do you have to say about that? And what are you doing here at the cemetery?”

“Well, I really don't mind people saying that. I am a bit flamboyant,” he said with a chuckle. “But what's wrong with that, right? And it seems like some hooligans vandalized the place. It's awful, but nothing special. May I?”

The man looked to Noah's hand towards his microphone. With a nod, he handed it over, and immediately, the handsome gentleman stepped up to gaze directly towards the camera.

“This is a simple message to the vandals that came here last night. I have a feeling you'll see this. I am going to find you. All of you. I'll personally bring each of you in. Won't that be so wizard?”

Taking the microphone back, the anchor laughed. “An interesting vocabulary you have, Mr. Jackson.”

“Call me Noah, and that'll be all. It's time to get back to work.”

***

Back in the basement laboratory, Alchia and Poppet remained waiting for a response from their benefactor, and in the mean time, they did as they usually do. The taller girl was nose-deep in hefty books, and the smaller one was bored and fiddling with a portable game system in the corner—something to distract her from the previous night's failure.

“Big sis?” Poppet asked.

“Yes?”

“Those two are going to pay, right?”

“Of course they are. We'll track them down as soon as possible.”

“Good. I want revenge! They saw me humiliate myself, and then they destroyed my toys.”

“We'll destroy them in return. Don't worry, Poppet. With his help, we'll have all the power we need. Can you believe it? Us running into someone like him. Luck really smiled upon us.”

A slow, almost melodic, footfall echoed over the staircase nearby. The girls turned, ready to attack, but then they saw a familiar face. Neither of them left the door unlocked, nor did they hear a doorbell ring. But he had arrived.

Alike Arlandria, the man had an unnatural grace to his appearance and demeanour, and his ears were pointed, but he was incredibly tall with long, slicked back, raven hair. The outfit he wore was bizarre to them, but the elaborate combination of red, black, and patterns of leafy vines, was of the norm to his homeland. His cold cyan gaze fell upon the two.

“Tyreth. You, uh... made it inside,” muttered Alchia.

As he reached the bottom of the steps, he turned with direct intent. The voice he spoke with was deep, monotone, and stoic.

“So there certainly are wizards in this city,” he said.

“Yeah! Meanie ones,” Poppet blurted out.

“My theories might have been correct after all. I can feel it. The Blade of Shadows is here in Edmonton somewhere. Soon, I'll finally have what's rightfully mine, and not these ridiculous humans.”

“But, we're humans,” Alchia said.

“And wizards. That places you at least some level above these people.”

“I'm glad we could help, but they got away. How is this going to get you that Blade?”

“The Blade and I are closer than you might believe. It's fine that they left, because the thing about humanity is that they're dangerously curious. I have no doubt in my mind that we'll be able to bait them out again.”

“But, won't baiting them also bait the government? They'll send spellbreakers and things.”

“Let them. Rebel wizard or official spellbreaker, we'll eliminate them all if they get in our way. Now, tell me something. It's important. Did you, or did you not, see somebody else with pointed ears?”

***

Over the landscape of white came a blinding light shimmering over winter's embrace. A chill still hung in the air, but through the tiniest slivers between the clouds came the sunlight, and beneath it, four wizards, a boy, and an elf. They were all far from civilization and wedged between a series of hills and trees, so the breeze's whistling was the only noise to greet the silent arrival of one after the other through a few portal doors.

Renatta, now wearing a black coat over her usual attire, shivered and tucked her arms beneath her armpits.

“Brr. I can not wait for winter to be over,” she mumbled.

“So, uh. This is the spot,” Daveon said.

Eldrian gave him a thumbs up. “It's perfect. I knew I could count on you to find a vacant place in the middle of nowhere.”

“It's my speciality.”

“That's my line!”

Deena cleared her throat. “I believe you wanted to introduce someone, Eldrian.”

“That's right,” Eldrian replied. “Dav, Ren, this is Arlandria. She's an elf.”

Renatta gasped. “I have only heard stories of the elves! Is it true they live in a flying city up in the sky? And it is made of solid gold? And there are all the cookies you can eat?”

The elf slowly shook her head. “Not exactly. We don't live in the sky, but we do have cookies.”

“I had a feeling you were an elf when I saw you, but I couldn't believe it. I heard stories myself,” said Daveon. “Out of all things Eldrian could bring to me, I never thought one of them would be an elf. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Arlandria offered a short bow and a friendly face. “Thank you for being accepting. I don't want to be an intrusion.

Renatta shivered once again. “Why are we out here?”

“It was starting to feel unfair to shove everybody into Deena's house, especially now that we have so many others,” responded Eldrian. “And it's something different. Isn't it nice outside today? I mean, nice for Alberta weather in the winter time.”

“That is true,” she said with donut muffling much of her speaking. “And I have warm-up food.”

“So, let me tell you all what happened to Renatta and I,” Daveon started.

He went on about the strange girl who was controlling skeletons—how she was a wizard and the powerful attack she used against them. He told them about the dug-up graves, and how they thought she was under attack.

“So there's other wizards around here,” Deena mumbled.

“It's a big city, I guess. Maybe there's a lot of wizards and we just don't know,” said Kevin.

“I have something else to announce,” stated Eldrian. “We may have a problem.”

He slipped the phone out of his pocket and unlocked the screen. Already up was a news article with a video ready, and after holding it up for all to see, he pressed his finger down on the play button. It was Noah Jackson.

“This is a simple message to the vandals that came here last night. I have a feeling you'll see this. I am going to find you. All of you. I'll personally bring each of you in. Won't that be so wizard?” it said at the end before the focus returned to the news anchor.

Everything went quiet once more. This continued for what felt like an eternity, but finally, Daveon approached Eldrian with an apologetic expression.

“I'm so sorry.”

Eldrian placed a hand on his shoulder. “It's not your fault. I have no doubt in my mind you did exactly what you needed to do, and what you had every right to do.”

“Still...”

“Dav. Ren. It wasn't your fault. This little girl caused all of this. It's her that should be penalized. Maybe we just need to track her down. Get some answers. For all we know, she's raising more skeletons somewhere else.”

“I'll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Pardon me,” spoke Arlandria. “But if we're trying to seek things out, may I make a request?”

“Of course. Whatever you want,” Eldrian replied.

“If you ever see another elf, please let me know. Even rumours. This also goes for a special, magical weapon. It's called the Blade of Shadows.”