#oh also the only thing loop kept was their silver coin and they left that for siffrin to take too in twohats. consider this.

[guided-by-stars]

This dialogue only appears if you gave back your dagger before asking Loop what the difference is between looping with tears or your dagger.

Loop of course, is against Siffrin hurting themselves. But this is more than that, clearly. They acknowledge that suicide is suicide, no matter if it's with tears and time or blood and stars.

But they're incredibly against the idea that Siffrin might see their body as unimportant and disposable. They say that Siffrin should keep their body intact, because they can't keep their possessions, they can't keep their history, they can't keep anything. The only thing that he owns is his own BODY. The only thing he hasn't lost.

(...)

Who saw their own body as unimportant? Who disposed of their own body? Who lost everything, lost their possessions, their memories, their timeline, their family... and also lost their body. Who did that?

[dainty-fingertips]

hail 2 u! ||polnareff x fem! reader

HEY HI so im just kinda dumping stuff from google docs onto here to kind of establish myself so anyway heres my french bb wjhged;; also minor spoilers if you haven’t finished stardust crusaders!!

word count: 2449

summary: you and polnareff were teamed by dio himself and saved by jotaro in hong kong. polnareff is hit with a wave of guilt as you and the crusaders reach what joseph has said to be avdol’s father’s island. you follow him out onto the beach to try and comfort him, and while it seems to work, the enemy stand hiding nearby inside an old middle-eastern kerosene lamp has no intention of giving you both time alone. that is, until the frenchman makes a certain wish.

trigger warnings: none :)

||

          He sat down on the chopped stump of a palm tree, his head in the palm of his hand. She had followed after him when he walked away, she knew he wouldn’t stop blaming himself for the death of Avdol. She approached him from behind with a worried look on her face. “Polnareff…” She said, softly. He turned around. “Oh, [y,n].” He said. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Mr Joestar and the others?” She stayed silent. She calmly walked toward the Frenchman and rested on a large rock to his right. “I couldn’t just let you go on your own.” She muttered, her face growing warm. “You know what happens when you’re left by yourself, anyway.” She smiled somberly, trying to lighten the mood.

          He chuckled dryly. “Yeah, yeah.” He turned toward her a bit. Thankfully her weak attempt at humor had worked, as his expression seemed less dull. The wind picked up a bit, causing the afternoon sun to beam down a bit more harshly on the beach. He turned his head, and she followed suit. He squinted his eyes. “Hey, is that…?” She tilted her head. “It looks like…” He stood up and approached the shiny object, a dull gold hue peppering through a barnacle clad shell. She raised herself off of the rock and took a few steps forward, glancing around his side. “It’s pretty.” He said, his eyebrows raised.

          He picked it up and examined it. “I wonder if it came from a shipwreck. Look at all of those barnacles.” She added, moving around and picking at it with her fingernails. “Hey, hey! Careful! You might scratch the gold underneath!” He said, holding it above his head and significantly out of her reach. “H-Hey! No fair, Pol!” She cried with furrowed eyebrows. He laughed at her futile attempts. “Yeah, right!” The two of them went through a solid minute of teasing, insulting, jumping, and punching (Three of those four were brought upon by [y,n], that is), it seemed that the strange object had been rubbing around in his hand quite a bit.

          A sudden burst of blinding light beamed out through what was left of the barnacles and caused Polnareff and [y,n] both to panic, and him to drop it. They both stepped back, [y,n] opposite to him. An odd smoke rose out of the tip of what was now seen to be a kerosene lamp of sorts; similar to the one from Aladdin. Though, the smoke disappeared just as quickly as it had come, causing the two of them to look around confused. The light and smoke both were gone, but the lamp remained. Polnareff sighed after a moment. “Man! That was weird. Must’ve been pressurized air from inside.” He said, a hand on his forehead. [y,n] nodded looking to the left. “Would’ve been cooler if there were a genie, but, you’re right. Probably just gas.”

          When she looked back, however, she panicked and pointed behind him. “P-Polnareff, look out! A Stand!” He jumped, his eyes widening. He took long strides toward her and whipped his head around. “What the hell?!” A peculiar looking Stand, one which appeared to be more industrial than some of the previous that the group had encountered. “Three wishes!” The Stand called, holding up an arm-like appendage; though it had only three fingers on each hand. “I will grant you three wishes! Whatever you wish is my command, master!” The Stand was gigantic, standing a solid 10 feet tall. “My name is Cameo. Thank you for letting me out of my lamp.” [y,n] glanced around, sweat sliding down her cheek. “Uhh, n-no problem.”

          Though, it didn’t seem that Polnareff was ready to initiate conversation with the entity. “Another Stand user! [y,n], back me up!” She looked at him and nodded her head. Blossom Samurai and Silver Chariot, both sword wielding Stands, got into a sort of formation, with Samurai behind Chariot. They battered Cameo with their swords, but they barely did any damage. Chariots rapier was too weak, and Blossom’s attacks were only a mere second too slow causing Cameo to dodge with ease. “Son of a…” Breathed them both in unison. “You’re pretty strong!” Said Polnareff. “Your user must be close. Where is he?” Cameo crossed its arms. “Again, I’m here only to grant wishes. Do you want your first wish to be a lame one like that?” He groaned.

          Polnareff granted. “Yeah, yeah, what is it with you and wishes, huh? Are you saying you can make me rich right now?” Cameo’s voice was unwavering. “Is that your first wish?” Polnareff relaxed a small bit, but was still on edge. “You know what? Sure, dumbo. Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.” Cameo’s arms uncrossed. [y,n] squinted. “Fine, then. Your wish shall be granted.” The two of them raised their eyebrows. “Huh?” Mumbled [y,n]. Cameo put its arms in an odd position, like a puppeteer would do, and raised its voice. “Hail 2 U!” 

          It immediately disappeared, causing them to blink a few times and watch the leftover smoke dissipate. Polnareff reached down and pulled the half buried lamp from the sand. Night had nearly fallen by now, but it was still visible. “What was all that about?” Polnareff asked in a confused tone. He sighed. “So…” she muttered. “What was that thing? Was it a Stand, or wasn’t it?” He shrugged. “If it is, what a weird Stand to send after someone.” He noted with a chuckle. She nodded her head. Damn these Stand users; she just wanted a chance to be with Polnareff. She excused the thought from her head with a bite of her lip. “Do you think maybe it’s got something to do with Avdol’s dad?” He shrugged his shoulders, the sunlight caressing his face in a way that would make anyone melt. 

          Her face got hot again. This stupid Frenchman has no idea what he’s doing, sending soft gazes her way. Every time he laughed, she felt like melting butter. She couldn’t help but look away from him with a coy grin. Polnareff chuckled. “Hey, what’s that look for? Come on, you don’t have to force yourself to look away. I know you think I’m hot.” He teased nonchalantly. She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Hah! As if, stupid.” She sent him a playful grin and stuck her tongue out. She was really hoping he didn’t actually know.

          It was then in that moment, both of them smiling goofily at each other, that a noise was heard. “Hey, what was that?” He asked, turning around. “Sounded like metal.” She said, walking in the direction of the noise. It was near; maybe just in the grass 6 feet away. Polnareff followed suit, and lo and behold. “W-Whoa!” She cried, leaning in. “No way!” He yelled afterward. The two of them crowded around what appeared to be a half buried chest of doubloons, jewelry, and bejeweled goldware. “T-That’s real buried treasure!” He called, scooping a few coins out. “But how?” She asked, tuning her fingers through it. “Hell if I know! But this is all mine!” He laughed chaotically. 

          “You little—! I helped you find this, I get half! 50/50!” He snorted. “As if, stupid!” He retorted, mocking her previous statement. “Ooooh, I’m gonna kick your--!” Directly before she went for his money, Cameo’s booming voice echoed from above. “Now, what is your second wish? I shall grant it.” The two of them shot their gazes up to the Stand. Polnareff freaked and dropped the coins, to which [y,n] then picked up and stuffed in her pocket. “Y-You! Why are you doing this?! Whatever you have up your sleeve, I’m not falling for it!” He yelled up at the genie, perched in a palm tree. “I am keeping the gold though.” He added shortly after.

          Cameo stayed silent for a moment. The only sound that could be heard was the wind blowing and the ocean rocking. “Is the answer to that question your second wish? As thanks for my freedom, I’ll give you anything,  including such a stupid answer.” [y,n] huffed and nudged Polnareff. He looked down at her and his expression softened. “F-Fine, then.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I want to be a comic artist!” He exclaimed. The answer threw [y,n] for a loop completely. A comic artist? She had never known he was interested in art. In fact, the only interest he’d shown was when he’d watch her draw.

          “I’ve always wanted to be one! And not just some starving artist, either! I want to be more popular than Walt Disney!” She furrowed her eyebrows with a stunned expression. “Huh?” She whispered. “Pol, I don’t think—“ he cut her off. “I want to create Polnareff Land!” He stood with his arms out in a comically dramatic stance, [y,n] in a stunned (and slightly embarrassed) silence at his side. “... Is this your wish?” Polnareff lowered his arms. “Actually, no, wait,” Oh thank God. She wiped metaphorical sweat from her forehead. Maybe he’d think of something more rational.

          “I want a girlfriend!”

          The phrase made her freeze in place. Her eyes were wide and her throat closed. He wanted a girlfriend, did he? He really must have just thought of her as a friend, then. She kept her mouth shut and kept her eyes on Cameo. What was she supposed to say to that? The words echoed in her mind. She wanted to love him like that so badly, but Polnareff seemed to feel otherwise. “Love is better than money or fame.” He said with a grin. At least he was sincere about that, she could tell. “She’s got to be really cute. I want a girl who’s my perfect match! Our pinkies entwined with the red string of love!” He held up his right pinkie finger for emphasis. 

          Polnareff had never made her feel so conflicted before. Her insecurities began to softly gnaw at her. Was she not cute enough? She felt like they were perfect for each other. She’d liked him since Hong Kong. Was this really happening? She simply kept her gaze on Cameo. She stared at it. What was it going to do? She thought genies couldn’t make people fall in love. “You want me to find the perfect match for you?” It asked him. “Yeah! Try that, bastard!” Cameo sat still for a moment. As she was staring, she noticed it turn its head slightly in her direction. It was looking at her.

          She inhaled sharply. What was it doing? Cameo was completely silent for several seconds until it finally decided to pipe up. “Very well.” It turned its head back to Polnareff slowly. “Hail 2 U!” The Stand once again dissolved into smoke. Polnareff looked at his finger expectantly, and sure enough, there it was. She saw it too. The red string of fate. He grinned. “Oh, wow! I finally get to have my perfect girl!” He beamed. She stayed silent. He looked down at her curiously. “Hey, you okay? You’d usually have made fun of me or something by now.” She looked ahead and nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. I’m happy for you, man.” Though she never once looked at him. Polnareff sighed. “Thanks, I’m glad too! Let’s see, where does it lead?” He held the string and noticed it went to his right. He looked in growing surprise to see [y,n] standing there, staring into the ocean with the most flat look he’d seen her sport, and a growing lump in her throat. Was she about to cry?

          He wasn’t really sure what prompted him to do it. What made him want to look down first before pressing her on how she felt. Though he was sure glad he did; in fact, it was arguably the best decision he made during that 50 day trip. If he hadn’t taken a mere half second to glance down below her waist, Polnareff wouldn’t have caught the crimson string tied around her finger until a much later, possibly much more awkward time during their interaction. He felt his heart swell inside of his chest, sheer ecstasy causing blood to rush to his cheeks and make his face burn as if he himself were a bonfire of sheer emotion.

          “H-Hey…” he began, reaching out with a shaky left hand. “Hm?” She looked over. She hoped the darkness of night would hide the tear that had dropped from her right eye and down her cheek. “[y,n], you, uh… your hand.” She slowly held up her left hand and stared in shock at the string around her pinkie. “That’s— that’s the-“ she quickly turned to look at his hand. Sure enough, the two were bound. Polnareff soon grew a stupid grin. “Well, well. Look at that.” The utter euphoria she experienced in that moment went unmatched with anything else she’d ever felt. “We-“ she choked back another sob as more tears fell. She covered her mouth and shut her eyes. 

          Polnareff freaked out. “H-Hey!! You okay? [y,n], c’mon! I’m not that bad!” He joked. “You idiot!” She called, throwing her arms around him. “You scared me!” She heaved into his shoulder. “I thought- I thought you didn’t—“ she shakily said. He chuckled. “Hey, hey! Calm down! If you’re wondering if I didn’t like you, you’re not just wrong. You’re stupid.” He grinned softly. She giggled like a little kid on Christmas. “I was so afraid when you said you wanted a girlfriend.” She said, pulling away. Polnareff put his arms around her waist. 

          “I thought I wasn’t good enough.” She laughed awkwardly. “I only said it because I thought you didn’t like me.” She noticed a glimmer in Polnareff’s eye; he was crying too. “O-Oh, Pol, you-“ before she could say another word he pressed his full lips against hers in a brief kiss. “Shut up.” He laughed, tears smeared on her face. She snorted and wiped his cheek. “I’ve liked you for so long. Ever since Hong Kong.” He scoffed playfully. “Ever since Dio paired us, you little snail. Did you just ignore all my little attempts to go on dates with you?” She giggled. “I didn’t wanna take it the wrong way. You never actually asked, idiot.” 

“Well, how about this.” He cleared his throat and laughed again. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” She nodded with a dumb grin. “Yes, yes, of course, dumbass.” She leaned up for a kiss and he returned the gesture. “Let’s beat the hell outta this guy and regroup, okay?” He smiled. “My pleasure.”

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Gentleman and the Dancer

Summary: A hero takes the hands of a dancer with red slippers meant to make her dance to death. 

------------------

She was beautiful. Beautiful in the way that didn’t know it: sunsets and autumn leaves, dew on fresh grass and the wings of colorful birds in flight. She was a creature of slim arms that bent and swooped like swans elegant necks and legs that twirled her with a thoughtless grace. She had long auburn hair made-up in an elaborate bun balanced on the crown of her head. Her face was picturesque and compressed with a mouth that frowned so delicately and small nose that wrinkled so tastefully.

It was a shy beauty that lacked presumptuousness.

Mariana Loupe. They brought her in with two guards and a handmaiden weeping as she approached. ‘My Lord!’ The lady cried with splotchy eyes and wet cheeks, ‘we have a great tragedy.’

I climbed down from my throne and approached slowly toward the woman in a fitted red dress and sleek movements. She was spinning, spinning and spinning and holding herself with a resolute weariness. There were bags under her golden eyes and when she looked up I knew something terrible had happened here.

‘What is it?’ I beseeched the guards.

‘The great dancer,’ the guard on the left announced through his echoing helmet. ‘She has been cursed with a set of red slippers that will have her dance until her death.’

My face fell and I turned toward Mariana, ‘is this true?’ I peered down at her cinched red dance slippers and my heart squeezed as I saw spots of blood pooling at the toes.

‘I’m afraid so,’ she said in a whispery voice that barely reached my ears. ‘Only a great love will break the curse.’

I took a step back and looked her up and down. My expression grew hard, ‘who did this? We will bring them to justice!’

She shook her head and her arms extended above her head and she did a perfect pirouette. ‘It’s too late. There is no justice to be had…’ Her eyes flared in my direction and I swallowed dryly.

‘What can I do?’ I decided right then and there I would do whatever I could to free the great Mariana Loupe.

She gave a bloodless tilt of her head, ‘I have danced for three days now with one gentleman after the next, but none have been able to break the charms of the slippers. I’m afraid it might be hopeless.’

‘Never!’ My voice filled the chasm of the chamber. ‘This is my land and my castle and I say what is allowed or not. And I say there is hope!’

She presented the smallest of smiles and twisted in place in a deep plié. ‘As you wish, my lord.’ She said demurely and bent backward, ‘but I’m afraid time is running out. I am… tired.’ And I could practically smell the exhaustion running off her in waves.

‘So, a gentleman can break this damned thing?’ I reached for pale dove-hands, ‘I am nothing but a gentleman myself.’

The guards took a step back and the handmaiden gasped gently as I grabbed the lady out of her dance of death. Her red lips parted in surprise and her eyes shone.

‘My lord…’

‘I will not see a beautiful thing die just like that.’ I grinned boldly. ‘Not if I can do something about it.’

‘Thank you, my king,’ her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. ‘Thank you.’

We began to dance: first a slow waltz, and then a cheery candle dance, and then finally a swaying ballroom dance where we leaned on each other. By that point the guards and servants had left us and taken up their usual posts at the doors and night time watch at the gates.

The great clock chimed midnight when the maiden started to truly sag and collapse under her own weight. I started to speak to keep her awake.

‘Where are your parents?’ I asked conversationally despite the fact I could feel a prickly pain crawling up my own thighs. ‘Surely they must be distraught.’

‘Passed, my lord,’ she said gently. ‘They were from a small town in the North. And one winter they did not make it to see the spring.’

‘I am so sorry,’ I responded with a frown. ‘That must have been difficult.’

She raised a leg up prettily behind her, ‘it is what is. Sometimes we must bear things we don’t expect to bear.’ She said with a sigh, ‘and it opened up my way to move to the city and be trained as a dancer.’

I exhaled slowly. ‘My parents have also passed. Along with my older brother,’ I said and squeezed her hand on reflex. ‘I try to find silver-linings in it myself.’

‘Indeed,’ she tilted her head to the side. ‘I too mourned the passing of Prince Henry.’

I nodded mutely and spun her in a tight circle, ‘where is your troupe my lady? Surely they must be worried sick about you too.’

‘My fellow dancers are playing in a different city,’ she said blankly. ‘The unrest in the capital has sent them toward the western country.’

My brow folded in, ‘I am sorry they have been disrupted.’ I said though my jaw clenched slightly, ‘I am trying to weed out the vermin in the capital as we speak.’

‘That’s a lot of people to bring to justice, my lord,’ she took us in a loose circle and leaned closer to me. ‘They are hungry vermin, no?’

‘They are always hungry,’ I growled. ‘They simply don’t pay attention to growing season conditions and considerations I must take into account.’

‘But they are the ones that grow it, no?’ She was spinning them in a faster loop now.

‘The city is mostly merchants and uneducated riff-raff, not farmers.’ I said in a hard tone. ‘But I don’t expect an entertainer to know of city demographics.’

‘You’re right, my lord.’ She said and her golden brown eyes diverted to the floor. ‘What do I know?’

‘And what about a lover, my lady?’ I changed the subject. ‘Surely he must be worried sick about you too.’

‘Oh no,’ she said with a quick tongue and a sudden needle-point punctuation to her words. ‘My lover passed in the famine. Like my parents. And like the riff-raff outside your gates.’

‘Excuse me?’ I tried to step back, but Mariana Loupe was spinning us in a whirl of red and hard pounding steps across the floor. 

‘Don’t you want to know about the gentleman I danced with before you, King William?’ She asked slowly in her same whispery tone.

I tried to release her small hands but something had plastered us together and kept our fingers locked.

‘The Marquis of the eastern farms which have known nothing but floods and tax collection,’ Mariana’s face opened up to the wild smile of a jackal or a hungry wolf.

My feet started to screech with a red hot pain. ‘Wicked woman!’ I tried to step away but the pain only climbed my legs with wet, wrenching fingers.

‘The noble Lord of Coin that has raised rates on the poor each year,’ She announced without remorse. ‘And now King William,’ She sneered. ‘The Heartless.’

‘Release me, witch!’ But the sparks were erupting by our feet with smoke hissing from the floor itself. ‘Your devil shoes-’

‘Oh, they are still cursed, all cursed,’ she said and spun us in a wicked dip, ‘but what love could rival justly spilling of your blood, my lord?’

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[sohannabarberaesque]

Underwater America with Peter Potamus: Florida’s Treasure Coast

Continuing our cross-country tour (and fictional TV series), our heroes travel further south along Florida’s coast in our latest installment. This episode takes place in July 1970.

The ten of us continued down State Road A1A after finishing off a dive in Pelican Flats off Cape Canaveral—a dive that started with the exploration of a grassy reef and ending with all of us swimming alongside three-dozen-or-so manta rays. What a way to make a living.

“We’re going to a wreck next?” Magilla asked, peeling a banana in the back seat.

“Yep! We’re going to Fort Pierce.” I replied as I waited for the traffic light to turn green.

“Ahhh, but can it top the rays we saw?” Breezly said, still giddy from the experience.

The more I thought about it, the reef dive seemed somewhat ordinary up until that moment. “Who knows. I think we got lucky that day,” I said as I drove the minibus along the street. “We were just…there until that happened.”

Hokey, who rode shotgun that day, agreed. “True, true, Peter my buddy. We may have swam with the rays, but we came out of there wet and hungry, as we always do!”

I snickered. “Okay, okay, I get the picture. I suppose we should get some dinner in a little while. We can get a snack before then.” Everyone else agreed. We had lots of time before we got the nitrogen out of our systems, anyway. I decided on a seafood restaurant—complete with patio—in North Hutchinson Island, only a short drive from Vero Beach, one of the northern cities of the region of Florida known as the Treasure Coast.

The food was plentiful, even for the ten of us: a few lobsters, fried catfish and plenty of battered shrimp would keep us full for awhile, and the sides—cole slaw and hush puppies—topped off this delicious meal. “OH, BOY!” we explained, and dug in.

Naturally, the lobsters were claimed by Hokey and Wally, who had desired them ever since a failed attempt to bring back a couple of them from our Pelican Flats dive. We didn’t mind; I filled myself up on the shrimp and hush puppies, while a couple of others, notably Squiddly and Mildew, admired the catfish.

“Oooh, those spices!” Mildew said joyously, savoring the seasonings put into it. “What do you think’s in it?”

“I don’t think they’ll tell!” Squiddly chuckled, biting into a delicious shrimp.

Wally had a pair of shrimp at once, together with plenty of scooped-up cocktail sauce. He found it delicious, although he did not expect the sauce to be as strong as it was—there was plenty of horseradish in it to clear his sinuses. Fortunately, a glass of water helped him through his little coughing spell. “Perhaps a little sauce isn’t a bad idea. Just a little, dont’cha know!” he said, laughing.

The sea breezes added that extra bit of enjoyment indoor eating just doesn’t have. We also got to view some small beach gettogethers of about five or six people, and were able to get an up-close view when we walked along the beach after dinner. Unfortunately for Squiddly, not a single one of those parties had a guitar, though it did have plenty of beer.

For many, the combination of the tides and the wet sand feels so nice between the toes of those who walk along it. For us, the water was just a fact of life. We had been underwater for so long by this point that we simply didn’t experience as much of a pleasant surprise as other people usually have, those who stroll along the beach or wade in the ocean to unwind after a long day. Not to take away from the wet sand, though; we felt it and we liked it—that is, until we were about to get into the minibus. I was adamant about us not tracking sand into the car, and we wiped off our feet with a towel before we got inside.

We spent the night at a motel in Vero Beach, booking three rooms for the ten of us. While Magilla watched some television and Squiddly filled the bath for a good night’s rest, I read up on further information regarding our next destination, the Spanish wreck Urca de Lima.

The Urca de Lima, a 305-ton Dutch-built merchant ship, was one of a dozen ships in the 1715 Spanish Treasure Fleet, tasked with carrying goods and treasure from the New World back to the Spanish Main. The Urca de Lima was one of five ships captained by Juan Esteban de Ubilla.

On July 24, 1715, Ubilla’s fleet, supplemented by six other Spanish ships, commandeered by Antonio de Echeverez, and a French ship, El Grifón, sent to ward off pirates, set sail from Havana, Cuba, intending to reach the city of Cádiz in Spain. Among their combined booty was a large amount of gold and silver. The Urca de Lima, though, mostly carried goods, along with some private silver kept in chests. The fleet, however, made it as far as Florida when a hurricane hit them, pushing the ships to the coast and either sinking or grounding them. Only the French ship escaped unscathed. More than half the crew of those eleven ships died, including both commanders. The Urca de Lima, however, steered into a river inlet, and the hull remained intact. This allowed the goods to be salvaged, keeping the survivors well-fed for a few days.

The ship’s cargo was eventually salvaged and the ship’s hull burned down to the waterline in order to hide it from pirates, although the existence of the sunken fleet was widely known by that time.

In December, the salvage camp was heavily raided by two British privateers—Henry Jennings and Charles Vane—and their men, and made away with gold and silver totalling over $3 million in today’s money!

Since its rediscovery in 1928, numerous salvage permits were granted, but very little came of it, as far as treasure was concerned. There was a silver piece here and there, but that was it.

Those thoughts were still with me even as we took a stroll along one of Vero Beach’s most popular tourist attractions, McKee Jungle Gardens, a botanical garden off U.S. Route 1.

This time it was Loopy de Loop’s turn to enjoy himself, following the semi-carnivorous overtures his lupine colleagues Hokey and Mildew gave at Tosohatchee. He stopped to smell the flowers with every new variety that came into view, and there were well over a hundred different species, in addition to the gorgeous streams and ponds we viewed that morning.

“Ahh, nature!” exclaimed Loopy. “Is there anything as breathtaking as a botanical garden, with so many magnificent flowers on display in a single place?”

“Yeah, underwater!” Squiddly eagerly replied, taking a bit of power out of Loopy’s monologue.

“Uh, yes, that as well, but I’m sure you understand, for you are but an octopus!”

“True…” Squiddly’s voice wandered off.

Having cleared our minds of any ill thoughts, and rejecting a suggestion by Mildew to abandon Loopy at the garden, I drove back onto the highway and headed east back onto A1A.

Upon stopping in the city of Fort Pierce we chartered a boat to take us to the Urca de Lima, east of Jack Island Park on the opposite side of the Indian River. Everyone checked their gear and put it on, while I piloted the craft out of the river and back onto the ocean.

I was happy to learn that, as the wreck was only 200 feet from shore, we would be diving at very shallow depths compared to Pelican Flats: ten to fifteen feet. I set a diving time of sixty minutes, with no decompression necessary. Maybe we would get a look at some more fish, but for now, it was all about the ship. To ensure that the wreck would not be damaged by an anchor, we instead used a mooring buoy to keep the boat in place.

We dove in following the safety briefing. Once we were close to the floor, we split up into our usual groups. As we swam along, we noticed that there was very little of the ship left, with only the keel, garboard and one side of the boat visible after that entire time, and even then what remained had a lot of vegetation grow on it. After all, this was a wreck that was over 250 years old, and a lot of things tend to happen near the shore in that length of time. The sands and the wildlife come and go—mostly come. Nevertheless, some of us were still in awe over what is basically an old-style artificial reef.

Although I was convinced the chances of finding even one coin were slim, that obviously didn’t stop Hokey, who brushed along the ocean floor with his hands in the hope of uncovering said coin. Wally, being his trusted friend and divemate, couldn’t help but join in and also find nothing. Convinced their big score wasn’t going to happen, they continued to swim along the hull.

We explored the area outside the ship for other remnants. South of the ship’s main structure, Lippy and Hardy were able to find some cannons strewn about—five in all. This in itself is a fascinating thing, although there were originally more cannons around the ship; several of them had been salvaged, cleaned up and exhibited. Mildew and Loopy soon joined them, and Mildew had a little fun by peeking inside, and reaching his hand into, one of the cannons. Eventually, the others joined in after seeing enough of the hull.

As they enjoyed themselves, I was reminded of the salvage operations that took place for decades (and which brought several of the cannons to the surface for exhibition) and continue to take place today, and felt that continued operations would evenually diminish the diving and snorkeling experiences many locals and tourists greatly enjoy. After all, it isn’t every day you have a shipwreck in your own backyard, let alone one that is very accessible.

Art by Bob Jiggles

I began to swim with Hokey and Wally away from the cannons after awhile, heading west. We had intended to see the sights of some fish that may be around, but we ended up finding one of Urca de Lima’s anchors instead, laid out along the ocean floor. It appeared to be about ten feet long and, like the cannons, were completely rusted. It gave us an idea as to how much of the ship actually remained, as almost everything else was broken up over time. The other anchor was also among the items salvaged and exhibited to the public.

Meanwhile, Mildew, still hoping for a trinket or two, reached into the other cannons and found nothing but maybe a stray rock or two perhaps making their way inside. Running his hands along several spots on the ocean floor didn’t work, either. Although the others were convinced they weren’t going to find anything, it didn’t stop Mildew, one of the most tenacious among us in whatever he did. Not until Loopy placed a hand on Mildew’s shoulder and shook his head did he give up his own little treasure quest; the bubbles gushing from the regulator hinted at a sigh of disappointment.

Squiddly swam along the remnants of the hull, his camera picking up the entirety of it, along with some of the animals for size comparison. He would tell me later that it might have been better were we to create a chain by grabbing each other’s legs. We might’ve made a good animal yardstick.

Feeling that we had seen enough of the wreck, I called for the whole crew to surface. We made our way back to the boat, somewhat disappointed. It was a delight to view a wreck, sure, but our expectations had been set too high. Although the ship was burned centuries ago to prevent detection by pirates, we still thought there was plenty for us to see.

We continued further south on our journey. Our next stop was Key Largo, home of John Pennekamp State Park, featuring some of the finest coral reefs in the country and home to a diverse group of marine life. Many of us felt like going on another dive before then, so we parked our minibus at a beach in Jupiter, just north of West Palm Beach.

Magilla and I broke out the bike pump and set about refilling the tanks with pressurized air before we could hit the water again. “It won’t be long now!” Magilla said excitedly, even though we had nine tanks to fill.

This time, we entered from the sands of the beach, donning our fins once the water was halfway up to our knees. This was strictly a pleasure dive where we could just play around in the water for awhile at a shallow depth. Usually this consisted of playing tag with one another, as Breezly and Magilla demonstrated, although some others had fun in different ways: Mildew felt like basking in the sun’s rays even in the water, and posed as though he was laying back in a beach chair, letting nothing bother him. Wally, a bit of a zany character himself, joined Mildew a minute later. Hokey and Loopy interacted with the occasional fish passing by them, while Lippy and Hardy just swam around, unsure of what to do themselves; they were simply content with watching.

We explored further by swimming towards the Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse. Our heads above water, the view was clear for all of us. Squiddly pointed in the direction of six creatures congregating together. “Manatees!” he exclaimed joyfully.

I removed my mouthpiece. “Must’ve gone after a female,” I said, before putting it back in. We swam closer to the pack while keeping our mouthpieces on, even though our heads were above the surface; we didn’t want to deal with ocean water in the hose.

The manatees turned and started to swim away from the shore, where we confronted them, eager to pet and stroke their heads and play with them for a few moments. Some of us wanted to stroke their bellies, too, and the manatees felt so happy to receive some attention. Squiddly joined in on the lovefest, too, even though his job was to film; I got his back, however, recording him nuzzling against a manatee’s cheek.

We spent a few minutes with them before they had to leave, looking to try again someplace else. We waved goodbye to them and began to head back to where we began our dive. It was getting a little late, anyway, and we needed some food in our bellies. We were also a little exhausted from all the diving, as was easily demonstrated thusly:

“Why’m I walking all topsy-turvy?” Breezly asked, wobbling as though he had a few beers.

“Alors! Those sea cows must’ve made us love drunk!” Loopy added.

Only Squiddly and I walked properly, with my fins slung over my shoulder, as we discussed plans together.

“Hey, how come those two are all right?” asked Mildew.

Everyone else still had their full gear on, well after they had been completely out of the water.

“You need a rest!” Squiddly and I called out to them.

We had to rest up for what I figured would be the pinnacle of our vacation: Key Largo and John Pennekamp State Park, and what better place to do so than what Hokey called “The Entertainment Capital of Florida,” Miami. At least it still is, while Jackie Gleason is still taping his variety show, and until Walt Disney’s next big thing opens to the public.

Avoiding all kinds of alcohol—which probably knocked out half the potential restaurant options in this city—we also wanted a place with prices within our means, which knocked out another quarter of the city. After twenty minutes of driving around the city with no place to go, we decided on a small diner where they not only served the usual fare, but also come Cuban delicacies.

The lively conversation soon switched from the wreck and the manatees to Key Largo. Pennekamp State Park had some of the best coral reefs in the nation, along with a diverse section of marine life. I could hear the excitement in their voices. Some of them even wanted to enjoy a second day there, as we did with Wally’s secret spring.

“If I can find a good motel, sure!” I quipped.

Anyway, that’s our Treasure Coast adventure. If you like wrecks that you can enjoy at shallow depths, I strongly recommend the Urca de Lima off Fort Pierce. If relaxation is more your thing, be sure to visit the almost-endless stretch of beaches. Remember, if you’re interested in diving, please receive proper instruction and follow all safety protocols before going in.

While I’m mentioning relaxation, why don’t you relax awhile yourself? Our next episode will be diver’s heaven—Key Largo. Look for us next week at the same time.

[enigmatist17]

Marks (Uncharted)(AU)

So I finished my second play-through of U4 recently ^^ I really despised Rafe, still do, but watching again and seeing his reasoning and the desperation had me go “what if”

So, the thought of this soulmates AU kinda popped up, and this was the result. Also, noting, Sam and Nathan are not incestuous, not in the slightest. They just both happen to fall for Rafe, and care for him in their own ways, and are just brothers as they are in the game. 

I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression.

-------------

Soulmate marks were a funny thing.

It’s four am, usually an hour when people are asleep in preparation for a new day. The hotel isn’t five stars, but it’s not exactly a hovel either, and it’s one that accepts bribes to smoke indoors. A pack of smokes sat on top of the large table nestled in one corner of the hotel room, three sets of jackets strewn about along with wallets and journals. One journal is being gone through, thin and perfectly manicured nails tapping along the spine of the book. The sketch currently being studied was one of two men, smiling as they watched some nondescript street from a bridge. One was tall and lanky, crooked nose from being repeatedly broken crinkled as he smiled, a set of four birds trailing up his neck. The man was gesturing out towards the street, a detailed mark trailing up his wrist and forearm. It was of crossed cutlasses, one of them a shining gold with rubies studded along the spine of the blade, truly a remarkable blade if it had been real. The other cutlass was bronze with a black hilt, almost nondescript to those who didn’t understand its’ meaning. The other man was smaller, curled slightly into the others side with a faintly amused look. His hair was slicked back and neat, save for a few strands that swayed in a breeze from hours previous. The smaller man was not staring at the street, no he was staring at the man who held him.

Smoke was exhaled, sea-foam green eyes looking down. A leather journal was marked across his exposed chest, surrounded by multiple gold coins of a treasure they had found so long ago. He hadn’t been sure what to make of the marks all those years ago, but now they were a very part of his being.

Rafe Adler took another smoke, the late hour doing little to soothe his nerves.

“What has Rafe up so late?” A sleepy voice hummed before strong arms were wrapped around Adler. 

“Just thinking Nathan, as I’m prone to do.” Stubbing his half-finished cigarette, Rafe craned his neck up to kiss the adventurer’s cheek. It had been a strange history with the Drake brothers, and if Rafe was honest he still didn’t understand how they all came to be. 

At first, he had used the brothers’ eagerness to explore some old prison. Rafe had been a stubborn ass back then, so cold and indifferent as he stabbed the guard to death for suggesting a cut to his treasure. Unfeeling as one brother fell to his supposed death, the other barely aware as he was dragged out and to freedom. The mark across his chest had changed, the journal closed and surrounded by a puddle of blood that just wouldn’t go away. For seven years Rafe threw himself into trying to find the next clue in Scotland, watching as the fabled El Dorado and the Lost City of Shambhala were found by Nathan. Something twisted inside his very soul when he saw his arms around some woman, seemingly very happy while Rafe toiled away for nothing. His mark felt like acid against his skin, never changing its shape no matter when he did to claw and tear at it.

The worst feelings came to Rafe whenever his father came to taunt. 

Why haven’t you made your mark by now?

Your face does not grace the history books.

You are allowing yourself to be kept beneath humanity.

You are a failure until you prove that you are worth the life given to you.

Some part of him deep, deep down wanted a normal life. Just to be one of the nameless crowd with a content job and his soulmates to welcome Rafe home after a long day. Those thoughts were always pushed down at the sight of a bloodstained journal marked across his chest.

One morning, the blood was gone, replaced by silver rings. Rafe couldn’t charter a plane to Panama fast enough, his heart seeming to beat out of sync as he approached the prison from years ago. The warden played coy, and for just over a week Rafe carefully played the wardens game before finally, his offer of money was taken. At sundown, Rafe waited by his car, toying with a lighter he had held for all those years. Doors opening, something in Rafe’s very soul seemed to just...settle at the sight of the elder Drake brother. He looked so aged, so tired with scars running in and out of sight, yet his eyes shone. Was it the freedom that made Sam hug Rafe, the fresh air that made him grin and ask jokingly what had taken so long? Rafe didn’t have the answer, merely pointing Sam to the car, giving the prison behind them a look as Sam stepped past. Whatever it was, something in his soul just felt at peace, or at least partially. 

Sam goes to find Nathan, and Rafe does nothing to stop him. No one who’s spent so many years in the heat would want the cold, and so he goes back to his work, to his cathedral that slowly dies under his touch. When he’s alone for the first time, Rafe all but tears open his shirt.

The journal is open, and the rings have taken on a shine, making Rafe smile at a sudden burst of joy.

Days turn to weeks, to months, and Rafe continues to work. At some point, mentions of Iram of the Pillars make their way to Rafe, but he is distracted by a finding in the graveyard. A nameless grunt is dead, but they have found some sort of puzzle and with instructions to be left alone, Rafe sets about to solve it. It’s some sort of strange puzzle with a bucket of all things, but after a day or so he thinks he’s solved it. Stepping forward and reaching in, Rafe is suddenly yanked back, leg getting grazed by a multitude of spikes that seemed to come from nowhere. A wide-eyed Samuel is holding him, a dazed Rafe just watching as he is pulled back to safer ground. 

Rafe sighs, reaching for another cigarette. A hand is placed over his instead, directing Rafe up and to his feet. In front of him stands Nathan, sweet Nathan, who has a look of concern despite still being exhausted. 

“I know that sigh...what’s wrong?”  

“Oh you know, just wondering what led me to the infamous Drake brothers.” There’s a bitterness to his words, and Nathan’s leg gives a small twitch in response. 

“Is that all?” From the other room, there is a grumble, and Rafe swears. The past always riled him up, some beast lurking in the depths of his mind able to stir up the old Rafe. The one who left a soulmate, who let the other walk off and try to forget the small rich kid who only wanted treasure. The one who let others die in search of the treasure he thought he had needed.

The one who was really just a lonely and abused man forced to take on a life he didn’t think he had wanted.

Damn it all.

Of course, he doesn’t realize he’s shaking, not until a second pair of arms rest on his shoulders. He can smell the faint scent of smoke from some time ago, a soft kiss pressed against his neck.

“Breathe...we ain’t lettin’ anything hurt ya.” Rafe closes his eyes, breathing deep and slow as he’s held. The beast is pushed down again and takes with it the doubt and insecurities for another time. They eventually move, Rafe being led to the bedroom as Sam tidies up the table. He watches as Rafe lays down, Nathan joining his side with a small smile, murmuring something as Rafe leans forward, pulling up Nathan’s pj’s slightly to reveal his mark. A climbing hook loops around his calf, the glowing green and gold rope entwining around an ornate pistol that had nearly ended the life of both Sam and Nathan.

He wasn’t proud, but Rafe had turned against the brothers during their trek to Avery’s long lost treasure. His father had whipped Rafe into a frenzy, stoking the fire of want and greed until he had shot at the brothers, sending them tumbling off a cliff. The gun eventually turns towards the late senior Adler, and Rafe flees with the Drake’s and to his new life. There are times he is so wracked with guilt that Rafe pulls away, but Nathan and Sam are there to catch him from falling.

Nathan is the one to hold him tonight, his beating heart a lullaby that sends him to sleep. Sam watches them from the opposite bed, sharing a look with his brother before turning in for the night.

They all sleep soundly, the dawn of a new day casting a content glow upon them.

[oria-eska-misfits]

Misfits Chapter 2 Rough Draft

Art of Oria and Eska, the two heroines from my story Misfits, done by @cherryvunilla Vunilla on deviantart. See the original post here.

Once again I want to point out that this is an extremely rough draft. Much has changed and some scenes don’t even exist anymore. This is the last chapter I wrote the first time I tried to write this story and it’s unfinished too. I’ve since rewritten it from scratch. However, I wanted to share it anyway in case it sparks anybody’s interest and gets them interested in this tale that I’m trying to tell. Enjoy!

Synopsis | Chapter One

Oria awoke to a maid opening her blinds. The light from the street lights flowed in and lit the room a warm yellow.

Oria sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with one hand.

               "Good morning miss. I've laid out a clean outfit for you," she said gesturing to the end of the bed.

A very fancy dress, much like the one Isbeil had worn the day before laid before her. It was white however and did not have a high stiff collar. Oria felt the fabric in her hands. It was so soft.

The maid helped Oria slip into the dress with ease and she put on a pair of white silk dress shoes.

               "We're washing the clothes you came in now."

Oria looked in the mirror and tied her hair to one side with a bow. She was amazed at how pretty she felt.

The maid led her to the dining room. As the approached she could hear Isbeil and Abhi speaking in in a tongue that she did not understand but recognized as Hindi.

As she entered the room she saw them sitting at a long dinning table. Abhi sat at the head of the table and Isbeil on his right hand side.

               "Ah, good morning Oria," Abhi greeted.

               "Good Morning," Oria greated.

Oria moved to the seat across from Isbeil and lifted her dress, careful not to sit on her bustle, as she sat.

               "This is a nice spread," Oria said eyeing the spread out in front, "I don't recognize any of these fruits though."

               "Try these, they taste like strawberries," Abhi said passing a tray of small orangy green fruits to her.

               "He's always going on about strawberries," Isbeil said as Oria accepted a few, "I think the reason he's most excited about us having contact with earth again, is that he'll be able to have all the foods that he grew up with.

               "Hush, you have no idea what you're missing dear. Tell her Oria."

               "Yeah, they're pretty delicious," Oria smiled endearingly.

Eska entered the room wearing a dress shirt, dress pants and a pair of brown boots.

               "Good morning sleeping beauty," Isbeil said.

               "Only because I get to see your face," Eska winked and plunked herself in the seat beside Isbeil.

               "Flatterer."

               "So Oria," Abhi began, "Now that we've all had some rest, tell me, what has happened on earth since we severed contact?"

               "Um well... it was 100 years ago during the second world war, right?"

               "Right."

               "When exactly did you loose contact?"

               "Right after they dropped them bomb on Hiroshima."

               "Okay, well, they dropped another one before the war was over. The allied forces won. There's no longer a royal line in Japan. They're a democracy now. Germany had it's army taken away for a while.

"A couple years later there was the cold war between the U.S and Russia. Everyone was afraid they'd nuke each other that the sky would be fill up with ash and dust. That never happened though.

               "Um, when I was 7 terrorists crashed two planes into the world trade center towers. A bunch of people died and they had to evacuate New York for a while. Then they sent a bunch of troops to the middle east and they're still fighting those wars unfortunately.

               "Other than that, cars have gotten faster, we put a man on the moon, a rover on mars and I think we even have a satelite outside of the solar system too.

               "Um... what else...? I think I'm blanking now sorry. Oh, and global warming! The atmosphere is warming up because of all the carbon emissions from cars and power plants and stuff. It's effecting the enviroment and all these different species are just dying off. There have been heat waves that kill tons of people, I think there was a sea that dried up too and it's putting a hole in the ozone layer."

               "That's insane. How is that possible? How do people allow that to continure?" Isbeil exclaimed.

               "I- I guess people are just too comfortable to care, or at least do anything about it," Oria replied.

               "I see that things still haven't calmed down," Abhi cut in, "Humanity has always been a passionate and fearsome race. Thank you dear for enlightening us. It was all very fascinating. Sometimes it doesn't feel like I've been away for that long at all, " he reminisced, "But so much has happened on both sides. Having you here is like having a little piece of home."

Oria's heart warmed a little.

               "Thank you. I'm glad."

               "Now my dear, would you tell us more of the reason why you're here."

Oria took a deep breath.

               "It's my mother," she began, "She has terminal lung cancer. The doctor has given her little more than a year to live."

               "That's quite serious," Abhi said solemnly.

Oria nodded and leaned forward.

               "But Eska's Uncle tells me that it's possible to cure her. It's just-"

               "The problem of getting her here," Abhi finished for her.

               "Yes, and I thought, since you were originally from earth, maybe you would have some experience with these kinds of things. That maybe you could help me."

Oria was speaking so fast but stopped when Abhi put his hand up and took hers.

               "Oria, I will help you in anyway I can," he said sincerely.

Oria smiled.

               "Thank you," she said with gratitude.

He let go of her hand.

               "We'll need to go to immigrations in the home world. Yours is a speccial case so I think things will go well. However, I don't want you to get your homes up too high. Home world is very by the book. We'll need very good lawyers to get you through the loop holes."

               "Lawyers?" Oria asked.

               "Oh yes, we're going to have to go through many court cases and get on the good side of many of politicians. Lucky for you I've already got that covered," he winked.

They finished breakfast and then prepared to depart. Isbeil helped Oria pick out a decorative sun hat, that had sashed that came down the side and tied under her chin, and a pair of white satin gloves that went up past her elbows. She also gave her a small coin purse which Oria put her phone, I.D, and some of her makeup in.

As Isbeil helped her accessorize they smiled and laughed and joked. Isbeil kept telling her how pretty she was and how much the clothes suited her. Oria felt really relaxed around her. Like they had been friends for years. But she guessed she was just on of those kinds of people.

When they got outside a carriage was waiting there. Eska was wearing a long trench coat that she left open. To her right Abhi looked very dapper in knee high boots and a long dark coat. He held the door open while the girls entered and followed them in. He signalled to the driver and they were on their way.

They drove slowly down the hill. At the bottom, rather than turning left or right, they did a 180 and turned into a small tunnel that Oria had not noticed the day before. Lanterns hung at the sides. THey lit the place up with yellow flickering light.

They were in the tunnel for no more than a minute when it let out into another part of the portal world. The houses there were still nice. Women of lower status walked the streets selling flowers, bread, milk and other goods.

They made their way down the street at a decent pace. Eventually they turned and began makinf their way to the closest wall of the cavern. Finally they made it to a slightly larger cave.

This one was lined with nicer, more advance lights. Oria didn't recognize the make but they almost looked fluorescent.

The tunnel was also lined with video frames that showed many sorts of ads for products that were unrecognizable and alien to her. As they moved down the tunnel suddenly the road was glassy looking and lit a pale green. It was transparent and showed lit blue wires like a microchip. It reminded her of Tron.

Soon the tunnel began to brighten as the pale glow of sunlight began to mix with the florescent lighting. Soon they exited the tunnel and Oria practically cried out when they were left hanging in mid air. However they did not fall and continued to hover as the carriage moved forward. Oria looked out the window at the wheels and saw that the air glowed green below them. She soon realized that the road was not gone but had just become transparent. She could tell it was still their by the slight sheen of light bouncing off of it.

She looked down and saw a grand city looming far below them. It was silver and white and far more advanced than any she had seen on earth. Vehicles flew through the air and more vehicles lined transparent roads below her.

               "Amazing," she breathed, too awestruck to say more.

Eska smiled over at her and Isbeil smirked.

They descended downwards slightly and soon came upon a moving platform. It took them down past the top of the highest buildings and soon Oria could measure their height in the amount of floors they went down. She counted 80 under her breath and still they were so high up in the sky. The buildings were enormous and impossibly wide to boot.

When they got off the moving platform they exited the carriage and got on to one of the flying vehicles that was waiting for them there. They took off into the sky and Oria white knuckled the seat.

She had flown once before in the helicopter that had taken her to the Toronto hospital after one bad self injury session she had when she was younger. She still remembered how her cheek stung and the pain in her mothers eyes after they had stitched her up and stabilized her. She had never done it again.

Soon the landed on a platform in front of the tallest building in the city. It was attached 10 stories down from the top of the building.

               "This is where the council is," Isbeil began, "Immigrations is located here too a few floors down."

They stepped out of the vehicle onto the shiny white floor. It pulsed bright like where her feet applied pressure. She almost felt like she was in heaven.

They walked towards the building though the beautiful park and garden that surrounded them. There was a sitting area and a fountain and even a playground that had been taken over by small children from races she had yet to know.

The walked through large grand glass like doors that needn't part but one could simply phase through. The technological advancements stunned Oria. She hadn't the words to describe the complete awe she was feeling.

The room that they were in had a high ceiling like a stadium and many booths lined that walls that could be reached by more floating platforms. A long line trailed from a large reception desk at the front of the room.

They walked past all this and reached a grand staircase in the center of the room. The descended and walked down a long hallway along the side of the building that was lined with a large window that spanned the length of it. At the end they reached an elevator that spanned the length of a full room. They went down 20 floors and exited into a smaller but no less grand room than the one before.

They were greeted by a woman in full business attire there.

               "Welcome Sir Rana. What can I help you with today?"

               "Immigrations business," he replied, "I'd like to speak with Vito if at all possible."

               "Certainly Sir, right this way," she lead them down a hallway and spoke on an ear piece as she did.

               "He's just finishing a meeting right now, he'll be with you shortly," she said as they approached their destination, a small waiting room.

               "If you would please take a seat," she said gesturing to the couches and coffee table.

               "Thank you," Abhi said.

She bowed slightly. She left for a minute and returned with a tray of tea. She place tea cups and saucers down in front of them all. She served them all tea and bowed again before leaving.

They waited no more than five minutes before Vito entered the room with his personal assistant. They were both the same kind of humanoid creature as Jules and the woman in the painting back at the mansion.

Abhi and Isbeil rose so Oria did too. Slowly Eska did as well. It was apparent that she didn't care for the mannerisms of the high class.

               "Good to see you again friend," Vito said as he shook Abhi's hand.

               "And it's good to see you."

Isbeil stepped forward.

               "Hello Vito," she said grasping his hand, "These are my friends Eska and Oria," she gestured to the pair.

               "Nice to meet you both," he nodded first shaking Eska's hand and then Oria's.

"So Abhi, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Vito asked. "It's a matter of great import," he replied.

And that’s all I wrote of Chapter 2! I hope you enjoyed. Here are some bits that I had on the end of the file that I wrote down that happen later in the story.  

About him paying a lot to fast track her case- "My dear, I have so much money, I don't know what to do with it all." (When she thanks him)

 "This is my idiot brother" "Is that any way to treat your older brother?" "By five minutes." "And I'll never let you forget it!" "Isn't that my line?

 "These are my best friends," Oria said showing her a picture on her phone, "Jamal, Peter and Nina. I go to school with Jamal and Nina, and I met Peter at ballet lessons when we were little.

“Who’s that?” Eska asked as she scrolled past a picture of her ex.

“Oh- that’s Hwan.”

Eska seemed to notice the briskness of her answer and side-glanced at her as she continued to go through pictures.

“And these are my three little cousins Cara, Steebeth and Vea.”

“Aw they’re adorable little runts.”

Oria chuckled.

  "Tell me something that I don't know about you" "I sang in a choir when I was a child." "Really? I can't see you doing that" "I'm full of surprises" "Sing me something," Oria requested. Eska tucked a strand of hair behind Oria's ear. "Are you going to Scarborough FairParsley, sage, rosemary and thyme Remember me to one who lives thereShe once was a true love of mine....."

Scarborough Fair is just a placeholder song until I can think of some lyrics of my own.

My Main Tumblr | Buy me a coffee

[mourningvale]

On contracts

   Fuck fuck fuck…!  The one word looped in her brain, screaming and kicking, even as the carriage raced her back towards Silvermoon City.  By comparison to the opulent coach in which she had arrived with her “date” to the tavern of the rich and duplicitous, the two wheeled, mat black carriage was built for speedy utility and not for comfort, the hard suspension bumping and jolting her in her seat, shaking ash off the end of her cigarette with every rattle.  She had insisted they part ways separately, as so many of these meetings happened to do.  He had his instructions: “--you will conduct yourself as usual; no deviations, no disappearances.”  Return to his close fold, as though nothing had happened; just another unremarkable if awkward date that would not be calling him back.

    He also had his instructions to arrive upon the ‘morrow for his first day of work in her indentured service... the mistakes just kept being made.

    “Fuck!” now she breathed the epithet as the carriage wheels appeared to bound off a particularly large and gnarling tree root that had risen out from the dirt path, a hand reaching to grasp desperately for a hand-strap near the window before she could bounce her forehead against the opposite seat.  A good thing too as when both she and the carriage righted from the jolt, she would find the space opposite her now entirely occupied.

    “Fff--!” the next in the chain of Kallarel’s cursing was stifled by a long finger, baring a viciously curved talon, a shimmering lacquered black in color, that was pressed almost tenderly to the pillows of her rouged lips.  It was the only part of her newly arrived companion that was not completely swathed in supernatural shadows, not even eyes twinkling in the darkness, but despite the veil the presence was no stranger.

    “Un-ladylike to curse, child,” the figure chided in a voice otherworldly both in its tone and demonic tongue before withdrawing the lethal digit back to the shadows from which it had extended.

    “I still have five days!” the jeweler defensively croaked, her throat still raw from the fetid wine and searing force of the binding spell that had sprung to her lips in that private dining room no longer than an hour prior.

    “Oh, I’m aware, child,” it came with a chuckle; knowing and horrid and also edged, which set a cold sweat to bead on the elf’s skin.  Her suddenly appeared companion always spoke with a silver tongue, but she had quickly learned the warning inference of displeasure.  Her defensive tone and stance was swallowed for subservient propriety, the assured business woman at last bowing her head as a proverbial bend of the knee.

    “Then… to what do I owe the pleasure, your Grace?”

    The bumpy ride steadily evened just as the very walls of the black coach expanded and faded, the jeweler finding herself seated as though in a void without structure, without light, without air; surrounding her in the perfect privacy that was utter nothingness.

    “You have given me cause for concern of late, my dear,” the monster rumbled, the only sound in the suffocating blackness.  It embraced her close just as it extended out to oblivion, weighting her arms, her legs, her throat.

    “Your Grace, the ritual…”  The jeweler was stopped by a tightening around her neck, itchy as a sisal noose, an all too familiar terror that commanded her silence.

    “Yes, I understand your concern,” the grave voice was strangely patient for its grip, pausing its slow speech if only to relish the terror in her eyes and the paling of her lips.  “I refer to your… extracurricular activities, child.”  Shadow talons dipped below the neckline of her quaking figure, pinching at the gold chain of her amulet and holding it up before Kallarel’s saucer-sized eyes, so close as to make her see the small shadow; a dark blot towards the bottom of the stone where no anima pulsed nor glowed.  A tear squeezed from the corner of her eye at the sight but she was otherwise too terrified to openly weep.  “For knowing you have a sourcing problem, you are becoming quick to spend.”

    A hollow sound hung thick, akin to a disappointed parent clucking their tongue.  “What happened to the little Lightning Bug that swore to pay her debt and nothing more…?”  The voice offered in mocking lament, relishing in how it drew more bitter tears from the choking warlock’s eyes, evident by the quiet reverberation of a sick chuckle.

    “I hope you do not forget your purpose, child,” the beast warned.  “Lest you are consumed before you can pay your debt.  Be resourceful, be cautious, be frugal… oh yes.”  A final tug on the phantom rope, parting the woman’s lips in silent wail.  “--And be careful what you feed your new pet lest he eat that which is still -mine-.”

   The abrupt stop of the carriage outside the door of her shop came in tandem with a desperate gulp of air as both the jeweler’s slender hands flew to her throat as though to tear off a binding that was not there.  Panting, coated in sweat, make-up smeared from her tears… it was an image that took the coach driver by surprise when he opened the door for her, hand almost hesitating to extend for a tip… almost.

    Coins paid, Kallarel was left to limp to the front door of her shop; exhausted, dishevelled, horrified.  She made it up the three steps to the door, just barely before collapsing in front of the boarded building, silk draped knees being torn by the paving stone and shattered glass that had been missed in the first sweep.

    And she wept.