#on the foaming waves between us‚ and mist

[elvensixpm]

Vengeance Saga spoilers!

For Six Hundred Strike, I don't imagine Odysseus using Poseidon's trident against him, actually. Mostly because my idea of Poseidon is that he is much larger than Odysseus— a giant, terrifying vision of the sea, no, he is the sea.

There is no clear differentiation between the sea and Poseidon— the waves his spilling hair, the sea foam his skin, the mist his robes.

Imagine this:

Odysseus using the trident to wash Poseidon and himself to the rocky coast of Ithaca, his homeland, rugged and worn as he himself is. Birthplace to six hundred men gone to Poseidon's cruelty, he doesn't use Poseidon's own weapon against him, no, that would be too simple.

He wants his Ithacan brothers to drink their fill of revenge as well. He raises the trident and commands the water to his will, fighting the brutality of the storm whose winds force against his arm, as if warning him not to do anything rash.

His gaze finds the sharp, jagged edges of shore— large rocks like spikes that jut out of the sand like a palisade of swords.

That will do.

The god of the sea smashes against the rocks as Odysseus strikes the trident down onto the sand. Poseidon ebbs away before forming back, like how broken waves regenerate. Odysseus strikes.

Again. Again. Again.

He watches Poseidon splinter against stone before immortality melts him back together again. The golden blood that sprays in his face as Poseidon smashes against the bank leaves him with a greater satisfaction than any gleam of treasure ever would.

The storm's wind whips and howls in his face like a shrieking banshee— he uses it to pretend not to hear the god.

Odysseus' screams for venegeance, for retribution and for the god to call off the storm, drowns the other's pleas for him to stop. This was payback for his crew; does Charon accept gods' blood as payment? It was gold, after all. As it seeps into the waters, Odysseus hoped that it would reach his crew— so that they could finally cross the river Styx. So that they can finally, finally stop their aimless wandering.

Poseidon gurgles out that Odysseus is a monster. Like Charydbis— Odysseus spews back the gods' teachings in his face: Ruthlessness was mercy, was it not?

Poseidon... relents. The trident slips from Odysseus' hand and clatters on the ground. The storm subsides, and the mist lifts.

Odysseus' eyes set upon rocky Ithaca once again. He doesn't look back at Poseidon— there is no need to turn back to the sea now that he's home again.

The King of Ithaca has returned.

Yes, I replaced treasure Odysseus brought home in the book with Poseidon's blood LMFAO! I really thought the treasure part was important in the book, so I wanted to give Epic!Odysseus something of the sort as well.

I also used Charydbis as a likening of sorts because... well. Wasn't it the book— so I just had to incorporate her somehow! How'd I do?

This is how Ithaca's shore look like in my mind while I was writing. Probably not accurate. I just wanted there to be a connection between the place of birth of the crew VS poseidon being their cause of death.

I always have nightmares of smashing against there, because they look so sharp:

But facing outwards, so it makes more sense, haha. I'm just thinking about how Epic!Odysseus is a certified religion betrayer now. Whoops!

Also I just learned that Palisade is an ancient greek thing? I thought it was a Biology thing LOL. I keep running into these coincidences!

[straynoahide]

Galadriel's Lament (Clamavi De Profundis version)

Namárië

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron! Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni ómaryo airetári-lírinen.

Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva? Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?

An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë, ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë; ar sindanóriello caita mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë. Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!

Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!

English Translation Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind, long years numberless as the wings of trees! The years have passed like swift draughts of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West, beneath the blue vaults of Varda wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly.

Who now shall refill the cup for me?

For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars, from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds, and all paths are drowned deep in shadow; and out of a grey country darkness lies on the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever. Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar!

Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!

[a3thernet]

aflame

Pairing: F!Reader x Simon Riley

CW: eventually a lil dubcon 

Wordcount: ~2k

Summary: This is a Dragonriders of Pern/COD AU. I have Ammeh on AO3 and her AU of a Fire Emblem game to thank for this brainworm. I’ve taken some liberties with the source material and this obviously won’t be canon compliant to the book lore but all you really need to know is that there is sex pollen adjacent content here eventually. 

-

The waves crash against the stone shores, roughly depositing cloudy sea foam across the rocks in layers. A fine mist breezes up from the water and brushes the skin of your face with salted fingers. 

Eparth tells me J’nor is angry with you, Kirileth hums, her soft voice seeping into your mind like syrup. You feel yourself grow irritated with the message but never the messenger, not when your eyes meet the glittering prisms of the young queen and she tilts the wide wedge of her head towards the thick oyster colored clouds. 

“Let him be,” you huff in reply, and she senses you reach for her, tilting towards you to allow you to run your fingers along the ridge of her eye and along the curl of her horns. “Tell him we eagerly await the arrival of your suitors.”

A puff of warm hot breath against your neck as Kirileth pushes at your shoulder with the wide breadth of her snout. The junior queen isn’t displeased with the idea of her duty here to replenish the long abandoned Weyr, but it’s obvious she is curious of who exactly might be in contention. 

“Bronze riders from several of the Weyrs, what few they could spare - if that doddering old fool is to be believed.”

Kirileth is amused by your snark, though she notes there is a twinge of fondness in the grousing towards the old rider. A roar cuts through the air over the clash of sea and stone as a Wing blinks into existence overhead, emerging from between. 

The bronze at the head trumpets its arrival in a fierce bellow, behind it are two browns, three greens and a blue. Two more wings appear in a blink, seven and eight strong respectively. You see at least four bronzes in total. Beside you Kirileth rumbles curiously, watching as they slowly circle their descent.

They've been arriving in waves, winking into existence from thin air. Like magic.

“Come then,” you muse at last, rousing from your seat against the rocks and climbing upon her slender neck, “Let us greet the newest members of the Weyr.”     

The caves are bustling with activity, the Weyr easily fifty strong, now bolstered by the myriad of Wings sent from across the continent. Taisa has prepared a welcome feast, dried meats and mugs of klah and she greets you down her nose with a frown. She’s chastised you a number of times on your willful nature, a nature your mentor, Lessa has fostered - one she told you reminded her quite a bit of herself in her youth. 

You meet the new riders in a flurry, their dragons crowded around perches high in the cave. They chitter, roar and thrum, forming new bonds and establishing the new order. The bronze riders come by your seat in turns, Gilnar, from the Southern weyr. Roenef, of Telgar. Tilikem of Ista. There are two more whose names you don’t recall and Simon. A name so dissimilar from the others it’s obvious he is not of your time.

He is tall and broad, standing easily a head or two above the tallest. His face is covered in a half helm, and only his nose and above are visible. He won’t meet your gaze though it’s obvious you seek his attention and he instead wanders to hand along the edges of the vast room, eyes raking the crowd as if seeking a threat.

“Simon,” you start by way of greeting and his eyes drift lazily to yours. Pools of darkened chestnut and lazy lids rimmed with starlight colored lashes. A silvered scar splits one of his furrowed brows.

You get the sense he is assessing you, and you straighten your shoulders, attempting to hold yourself as the Weyrwoman you are meant to be. He doesn’t ask your name.

“You are young.” He says in a gruff, low tone. His words form around an accent that is unfamiliar to you, strange but.. Interesting.

“Twenty and seven turns. Twenty and two when I was found in a Search.”

“Raised outside a Weyr,” a scoff and you bristle, “Interesting.”

“Long enough to impress upon a queen.” You snap defensively, your hands resting upon your hips.

“Luck.” That gruff tone, massive arms folded across a broad chest. 

“And what is it that you believed impressed your bronze?” Your eyes flick up to catch the curious face of his mount, larger than most yet still smaller than your Kirileth. His head is framed with a crown of wide, sharp, horns. He thrums low and deep in his chest. 

“Training. Ability-” a glance around the room before landing upon you again, his voice a low growl. “Blood.”

You scowl at the implication. 

“You believe your blood drew your favor?”

“In my time only Weyrborn claimed dragons, and now they let commonfolk from across the Holds impress queens.”

Common. Your blood is aflame.

“Then why are you here, Simon?”

“I was told there was a need for bronzes and their riders here, a queen would rise to mate soon.” He looks positively bored of your company. “I have a duty to my people.”

It’s your turn to scoff.

“There are more than enough bronzes here that should the quality of our blood disgust you so, I’m certain there are other duties you can see to.”

He doesn’t deem it necessary to reply to you, as though his intent was only to incense you with his mouth. You turn on your heel and storm off, but you note that Simon doesn’t move from his position the rest of the evening.

You see little of Simon outside of watching him train younger fliers from along the cliffside, watching as the riders wink from existence to between. You note he acts as though he is already Weyrleader, though he’s no claim to the title. 

Laisa attends tasks given to him by the mysterious rider who seems to exist only as some sort of phantom. Vanishing around corners before you can catch him, as though he can go between without even Raroth. It is as though the Headwoman respects his authority more than even your own. 

It wounds your pride.

It’s the morning after a storm that you peek from the cavernous window of your quarter to find the massive bronze steeply descending the cliffside, his wings tucked closely to his side opening to catch the updraft and soar along the waves. The membranes along the bronzes' back are buffeted by the wind when a swift wingbeat starts his ascent. 

“Where do they go?” you ask musingly, though you feel the stirrings of your bond. 

Raroth says they intend to hunt near the lake further south.

“Hunt?” you frown, “Are they displeased with the tithes we’ve received from the Holds?”

Kirileth is fully awake now, and when you catch her prismatic gaze you feel that soothing surge of comfort in the bond shared between you. 

It is their way.

You find yourself irritated in spite of yourself, there is something about this Simon that irks you and stirs the swellings of your curiosity. He is a marvel, and oddity, the only oldtimer sent to your Weyr in consideration for Kirileths' first mating flight and easily the most experienced flier. Lessa handpicked the bronze riders she’d sent to help populate the Weyr, did she know how much this one would vex you?

The long tendrils of the sun have barely begun their ascendence when you too, take wing. Kirileth leaping from the precipice to swoop low, the long curling fans off the end of her tail grazing the salt and sea below before her wings beat with mighty gusts to rise into the sky and into the cool mist of clouds swarming overhead. 

It is glorious when you are in the air together, she is glorious, you think, stroking a hand along the gleaming scales between your thighs. You have at least an hour and a half before Taisa notices you are gone, perhaps half that before J’nor wakes and Eparth tells him you’ve gone. Kirileth vibrates with pleasure beneath you.

Together, we are glorious.

You cannot disagree. 

It’s with distinct pleasure you note that Raroth and Simon have not gone between choosing instead to soar above the lush canopy enveloping the land extending from the mount the Weyr is housed within. You follow from on high, far enough back that Kirileth cannot yet be spotted, weaving between silvered clouds, her gilded sales not yet caught by an errant sunbeam. You soar past the lake where it appears Raroth has snagged a buck near the shoreline. Kirileth lets out a melodious little trill on approach and Raroth turns his spiny head skyward watching in admiration as she slowly descends, massive wings stirring dust and silt from it’s nest along the shore. 

The young queen dwarfs the bronze, but not by near as large a margin as many of the other bronzes Lessa brought forth from between nearly ten Turns ago. Simon stands at the water's edge, not sparing so much as a glance your direction and you bristle with annoyance at the slight.  

“You left early.” You say by way of greeting, sliding from Kirileth’s neck and to the ground, the soft earth shifting beneath your boots. Raroth inclines his head towards the queen first, then you and rumbling in pleasure when you scratch at the ridges round his eye - just the way Lessa had shown you so long ago. The bronze dragon's eyes slide shut and you swear that Simon glares at you from over a massive shoulder. The distance between you feels cold and stark on your approach.

Behind you, Kirileth and Raroth share his kill and the queen is producing a low hum while the bronze at her side continues to rumble low in his throat.

“They get on well.” You muse, watching the mist rise from the surface of the dark lake and curl phantom fingers into the cool morning air.

Simon only grunts in reply.

“He intends to fly her.” He finally says after a pregnant pause. 

Why does the thought excite you?

Lessa has instructed you in the intricacies of mating flights, to an extent - you glance over at the mountain of a man at your side. The broad of his chest and the silvered stripes of scarred flesh peeking from beneath the hide of his riding gear. The lower half of his face is still hidden behind the dark cloth covering his nose down to his neck. You cannot help but ponder the shape of his mouth, what it might feel like pressed to your own. 

Would that Raroth could catch me, Kirileth haughtily snorts from over your shoulder, though you sense a gnawing curiosity in her as well. 

“Does that frighten you?” 

Simon is closer than you expected, dark eyes boring into your own and his tone one of disinterest. A lock of flaxen hair falls into his vision and you suddenly want to brush it from his face. Your heart hammers a furious rhythm in your ears. You are not unfamiliar with the pleasures found in flesh, certainly, a tumble or two with the farm boys of the Hold that was your home before the Search that plucked you from everything you’d ever known. But a mating flight of your bonded dragon was.. Instinct - raw, uncontrollable - like a wildfire. Again, if Lessa was to be believed, but you’ve little reason to doubt your mentor.

“N-no.” You reply more quickly than you’d like to have and you swear you hear his mouth curve into a smirk beneath his mask. 

“I was told queens of your time do not fly other than to mate.”

“Not before Lessa,” You retort, again detecting a slight woven into his tone about the intelligence and capability of your people and therefore yourself. 

“Things have changed,” He mutters, finally unpinning you from beneath his hardened gaze and it is as though you can breathe again. “Curious. Let us see what happens then, when your queen rises.”

It’s clear from the posture the senior rider assumes that the conversation is finished and you take the opportunity to take your leave. You cannot help but notice that he’s turned to watch you and Kirileth climb into the sky - soaring back towards the Weyr. A glittering comet trailing across the horizon, her scales caught in the morning sun.

-

A/N: There will be at least a part two for this. If there’s interest maybe I’ll write some for the other guys. Maybe a Ghoap x reader addition? Idk. 

[phantomlemon348]

Good Omens x Broadchurch fanart and fanfic.

The idea of a special place...

The first from Aziraphale's Pov and the second from Ellie's.

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

"Let me find the one true place I call mine

And when stars run out of sky

And when sky runs out of stars"

- Lift me up by Ian McCulloch

"Look at the stars, Angel" his voice was a careful, awed whisper as he gazed up at the sky, sprinkled with little white bullet holes, like someone had shot through the dark velvet that was the night. I gently inched a step closer to him on the metal parapet, reaching for his hand. I took it in mine and felt a little shiver of warmth go through me as he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"They're beautiful aren't they?" he looked at me, their smooth silver light pooling in his excited, wide-eyed features.

I nodded and he smiled. I closed my eyes, the salt of the sea, heavy with the breeze, weighing it down into a humid density.

The city below us in a deep slumber, an eerie but calm whisper that drifted through the streets up onto the rooftop to join us.

Most of the houses were dark like the candles on a birthday cake, blown out. Just a few scattered, left burning. The ones a breath couldn't reach.

It was as though you could see it fogging above the little houses, a thin layer of mist spreading its impatient fingers down every alleyway.

Another shiver ran up my spine. But this time it was because of the cold and the damp that had crept into my thoughts. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I gently let my head sink down, my cheek coming to rest on his shoulder.

I felt the stars light up both our eyes, bright silver and endless. And the distant call of a boat far out at sea, as his head leant against mine.

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

And how the time gently passes, like fingers trickling vacantly through velvet. Thoughtfully spiraling a tuft of grey cloud around one finger.

And they're always there -the stars- reassuring white blotches in the sky.

No-one there in the in-between, the beauty of the worldly night left to its own devices...

As the wind whispers, they fall away, one by one, blown out. Waiting till the waves carry the dawn on their foam-crested shoulders.

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

"I need you to keep me straight

When the world don't seem so great

It's hard enough you know

I need you I need you

Say you'll stay

Make my day"

I need you (for someone) by The Jam

The way his eyes melted as the sunlight collided like an explosion of gold within. Swirling like a chemical reaction, sparks fizzing here and there, making his face light up with the tiniest forlorn smile.

The warm rays on my face as they filtered through the soft grey mist that still settled above the water's surface in the distance. It was beautiful, the whole town and sea stretched out before us, just over the roof's edge. And in that impulse that I saw him like that, I didn't want to lose it. The way he looked so fragile in a way, lost in his world, his thoughts away with the breeze.

I've seen the sun rise over Broadchurch before, the many yeas I've lived here. But this time... somehow it was different, something special. The fact that someone had wanted to show me it. Bring me here to share the light of a new dawn with me.

I felt a touched wetness in my eyes as a small tear welled, making the sun hit out in a blaze of orange through my eyelashes, smudging him into a blue blur. The way he stood, childlike, gazing out into the waves, enchanted. I wanted to hug him. In that moment... I just wanted to throw my arms around his shoulders and hold him there.

[theworldsoftolkein]

Namarie Galadriel's Lament in Quenya - by Aglargon

Description

Female figure by Lamorienlamorien.deviantart.com/art/De… Callligraphy Title by Morelen www.flickr.com/photos/32039090…

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron! Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni ómaryo airetári-lírinen. Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva? An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë, ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë; ar sindanóriello caita mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë. Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar! Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!

The song translates into English thus:

Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind,  long years numberless as the wings of trees!  The years have passed like swift draughts  of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West,  beneath the blue vaults of Varda  wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly.  Who now shall refill the cup for me?  For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars,  from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds,  and all paths are drowned deep in shadow;  and out of a grey country darkness lies on the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever.  Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar! Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar.  Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!

[crossroadtoad]

The Floral Codex

We are born in fire and water, glowing in starlight, we reach forwards beyond the veil. The Star Songs reverberating in our marrow. Birthed in sky, mist, and grove, do we walk the crossroads of life - echoed.

the songs echo through the mist as we wake and rumble through the drum hearts beat that follows our life through. that ancient sound that pounds and resounds through the first bell toll of the universe.

I rose from the ocean deep, struggling to be born - the waves crashing in moonlight - Huron! my Huron, we have returned to you over and over my love. And from the pearls woken in mucous foam, grown.

I groan forth in waves, clashing along the sand, my windswept breath caught erring on my survival; crawling in the cold deep dark, lost and found, when walking through the sands of time, drifting is as natural as the flow to which it moves.

Land, Sea, and Sky call the boundary in-between, the Other places we long to see, feel, and touch. You can learn to access these places by being, and by doing. The early morning is a gateway to these places as well.

Everything contains within it a spirit, and that spirit is the hearth fire of life. The collective soul of Earth is known as the World Soul. If the world soul is sick, witchcraft must respond. And so they become one with the spirit of creation.

Dig deep in the soil and find the truth, blessed with loam and peat. Alas the grove is where the magic happens: And crawling worms writhe in the pleasure shadowed soil, where the throws of life begin and end.

The journals, the Journals, they are the altar to which the work is performed. So many and so few - the pages grow and warped forming gateways to other places lost, created, and endless. Fate and her bindings, keeping in tune with the rhythm of life. The Journal takes on the soul of its Author.

They are the threefold guardians of the night - the grail which seeks and what finds. Found in their Cunning, they guide us through the threshold; holding onto starlight and repose. They are the Chosen of the Crossroads, Three, Three, and Three.

The ancient song resonates within us all - it is up to us to seek it out. Each person’s song is unique, given to us from the stars above. To hear our own song is to follow our own path.

We have our wounds to bear, literal and metaphorical. These scars should be tended to and nurtured. A scar is a heavy burden to carry, thus the reliance on strong bonds, friendships, and fellowships is important to live a charmed life. We do not exist in separation to each other.

The road ahead is awash with new challenges to face. Brave is the one to walk head on. Balance is the key - for what is within, without, and what is without, within. Seek out what remains hidden, gaze into your own soul mirror, and go forth in flesh as truths made whole.

[curryfury13]

The Forgotten Traveler Ch41

Hello! Fanfic.net servers are down for a bit, so I wanted to share my new chapter here. Keres is on her own in Hawaii, her powers slowly returning. She isn't sure where to go from here.

All the while, Sam is on a personal journey to find her father. She and the rest of the Highwind crew are on Montressor, trying to figure out the truth behind her father's disappearance. There's no length Sam won't go to find him.

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Chapter 41

Try Moving Forward

Words: 10846 --------------------------------------------------------

Waves swept across the shore, white foam bubbling over sand and Keres’ toes. She remained still, her knees bent and hands at her sides. Sand gathered between her fingers, creating tiny mounds. If she closed her eyes she could convince herself she was back on Destiny Islands. But she wasn’t. 

Hawaii wasn’t the island, not her island anyway. Hearing the waves made her miss it, but it was likely she’d never see it again. Even given the opportunity she wouldn’t take it. Not with the darkness inside her. Regardless, she wondered how much the islands changed. Was the paopu tree still sturdy enough to hold her? Would the sunsets be the same? 

“How long are you going to keep us here?” The darkness’ voice crept through her mind, filling her thoughts like an invasive mist. 

She didn’t reply. Instead, she breathed in through her nose, the tinge of salt and flowers melding together as a calming wave. Then she released her breath and looked up at the stars. Their light shimmered weakly between the clouds. Any of them could be her next destination. Her fingers twitched in the sand, the tingle of darkness prickled across her palm. It was eager, hungry for its release. All it needed was permission and a Corridor would form. 

Keres remained still. Where would she go? Hinata’s promise remained in her heart, despite the darkness’ greatest efforts to snuff it out. It settled in the back of her mind like a dying ember, still there, flickering with warmth and possibility. She didn’t know what Hinata planned, if she even had anything in mind other than blind determination. Perhaps that was all she needed. Keres wanted to believe that, but the darkness mocked the very idea. Blind determination wouldn’t make up for everything Keres destroyed. Hinata may be able to look past her monstrous form, but would the others? 

“They hate you.” The darkness’ voice sent chills down her neck as if it were whispering right in her ear. “Find a world we can make our own. You will be untouchable. Safe. No one will stand in your way. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted?”

Darkness seeped through her. She felt it moving through her veins like ants forming their tunnels in the earth. Her heart accelerated, her breaths stuttered. 

“Anywhere you want,” it promised. 

Keres raised her stained hand. It trembled, her fingers curling. 

“You want Lilo to be safe, don’t you?” it asked. 

Gritting her teeth, Keres lifted her other hand, gripping her wrist with enough force her knuckles went white. 

“You’ll finally be happy.” Its words dripped like honey. “Stop fighting us.”

Tendrils of darkness sprouted in front of her. Its black inky vines writhed over the damp sand. A Corridor flickered to life, wavering in and out. 

“Where do you think it leads?” it asked. Keres could hear the grin in its voice. 

Her chest heaved. “STOP!” Her scream tore through the night and she collapsed on the sand in a heap. 

The Corridor shattered, pieces disintegrating into pure darkness before hitting the ground. Keres curled in on herself, her breaths deep and hoarse. Chills crawled over her and the once sweet tone in the darkness’ voice turned sharp and low. 

“You will regret this…” was all it said. 

Keres knew she would. She laid there, allowing the white foam of the waves to sweep around her. Behind her, she heard a chitter from a creature, but she didn’t move. A wet nose sniffed her, just inches away from her arm. Then a furry paw rested there. 

“Leave me alone,” Keres muttered. She stared blankly at the ocean, unmoving.

Soft steps moved around her. She saw the indents of prints appear in the sand, but not the one creating them. 

“Houdini, right?” she asked, and the invisible creature paused. “You need to stay away from me.”

Houdini whined and the sand beneath him sank. Faint warm breaths tickled Keres’ arms, then soft fur pressed against her hand.  

“Please,” Keres pleaded.

White, shimmering magic sparked to life, revealing Mr. Fluffy Bear in Keres’ hand. She sat up with a start, staring at the worn stuffed bear. Paw prints imprinted the sand as Houdini respected Keres’ wishes and went away. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Her vision blurred and with a sudden release of breath, she hugged the bear tightly to her chest.  --------------------------------------------

Time passed. Keres’ eyes were heavy with exhaustion. She laid on the beach, curled up and drifting in and out of sleep with Mr. Fluffy Bear tucked beneath her chin. Heavy footsteps thudded against the sand, approaching from behind. Keres twitched, the darkness flashing to attention, but Keres tensed, intent on remaining still. She listened, making out a faint set of scuttering steps. They were familiar, leading the larger one to her. 

The darkness’ laugh rumbled through her, beating against her heart with a sickening drum. “That rodent came back for you.”

Keres dug her fingers into Mr. Fluffy Bear’s plush back. “Stay back.”  

The steps paused. 

“Ah, we-ah thought you were asleep,” a voice, thick with an accent, called back to her. 

She knew that voice. The memories of him showing up with his creatures in the midst of battle rushed to the forefront of her mind. So this was Jumba. Had Houdini led him to her? Why hadn’t he listened to her?

Her muscles ached, convulsing with minute tremors that only showed a fragment of her fight for control. One finger straightened, then another. They bent back with unnatural flexibility, urging the rest of her fingers to follow. Mr. Fluffy Bear fell to the sand. The darkness breathed into her, its chill settling over her bones and she sat up, her head lolling forward as even then, she continued to resist. 

Jumba talked. His words fell on absent ears. The darkness was the only thing Keres heard. It cursed her. Sharp waves of pain throbbed through her, starting from her heart and coursing across her limbs. She’d put off leaving for too long and the darkness was tired of waiting. 

Keres' voice tumbled out of her with words she didn’t choose: “You should have listened when you had the chance.” She laughed, the sound stilted. 

“Now!” Jumba yelled and a needle pierced through Keres’ neck. 

Unknown serum streamed into her system and the darkness shrieked. Keres covered her ears, as if that would dampen the cries of terror and rage inside of her. The corners of her vision darkened, the edges of her tunneling vision swirling together into a dizzying display. Jumba stepped in front of her, his four eyes peering at her with curiosity and suspicion. 

“Thank… you.” Keres managed the words before her eyes rolled back and everything went dark. ------------------------------------------------------

She woke up. Her eyes couldn’t see anything beyond blurred light. Her lungs burned. The crisp air flicked against her lungs like sparks of a flame. She wheezed for a full breath, hot tears forming at the corner of her eyes. 

Her fingers curled against the floor. It was cool to the touch, smooth. Metal. Jumba had taken her somewhere. She turned her head, her neck stiff. Reflection of light bounced off the glass wall. Through it she could make out the fuzzy forms of computers and medical equipment. Another lab. 

After everything, she ended up right back where she started.

She focused on her battered reflection in the glass. Grains of wet sand clung to her. It mixed with her hair and coated her skin. A thin line of dried blood trailed from her neck where the needle pierced her. Her icy fingers pressed against it, feeling the heat radiating from it. Whatever they injected her with, it didn’t blend with her as well as the Organization’s serums did. 

Except, perhaps it did. She closed her eyes and listened. Machines hummed, equipment beeped out of sync with the other. Jumba muttered to himself somewhere out of sight. Houdini’s claws clicked across the floor, still invisible. There was nothing else; no whispers or threats coating her subconscious. Whatever they put inside of her, it silenced the darkness. 

Keres grinned, her breath releasing. She sat up, her head wobbling softly side to side until she steadied it with her hand. “Jumba?” she called out for him. 

Heavy footsteps approached, followed by Houdini’s tiny quick ones. “Aha!” Jumba clapped his massive hands together. He walked in front of the glass, wearing a vibrant unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt that took Keres a moment to take in. “The girl has woken up! How do you feel?”

She hesitated before answering. “I… don’t know yet. What did you put in me?”

“Ah, it was a neural neutralizing serum.” He waved his hand in a circular motion, recalling, “I developed it to pacify my more, uh, unruly experiments.” He motioned towards her, his large mouth spreading into a wide grin as he chuckled. “But look at how fast you woke up! I could have used a much stronger dose than that.”

Keres didn’t say anything in reply. Her eyes flitted around, absorbing the information. The Organization used serums on her to sedate her, but none of them made the darkness fall completely silent. 

While Keres pondered this, Jumba turned away to a nearby monitor. A diagram of Keres’ body appeared on the large screen. It showed an outline of her, dark matter swirling around inside as lines of alien language popped up in thinly rimmed boxes. Jumba held his hand to his chin, his voice ridden with pride: “You are quite an impressive monster. Whoever made you really knew what they were doing.”

Keres flicked her eyes to him. She didn’t tell anyone what she was. “How…”

“You’re a clone, no?” Jumba zoomed in on the diagram, smaller white particles appeared. “Your telomeres are a dead giveaway. But, how say, alarming how much darkness they fused into your cells.” He looked over his shoulder towards Keres. “They must have wanted a real killer beast!” He guffawed, the sound ricocheting off the walls and surrounding Keres. 

Her hands tightened in her lap, her eyes shutting tight to block out his laughter. She hadn’t worried before, but now she wondered what exactly Jumba wanted with her.  

Wiping his eyes, Jumba asked, “Who made you? Was it old Kido? I didn’t think he was this good yet!”

He enjoyed this. That’s all she was to him, to any scientist, an experiment to toy around with. All the destruction she caused, all the death, the pain, and he had the gall to be amused. He continued working at his monitor, his back to her. Whispers echoed in her mind: “Kill him...”

So the darkness wasn’t completely gone. Keres looked away, her nails dug into her palm to distract herself from the intrusive urges. He only suppressed the darkness, she was a fool to believe it was actually gone. Still, he was different from the Organization and once upon a time, helped her fight against them. 

“It…” she hesitated. Jumba paused his typing and looked over his shoulder at her. “The Organization made me.”

He turned around to completely face her, his four eyes blinking. “Not… Organization Thirteen?” All Keres managed was a nod before Jumba’s entire disposition changed. He threw up his arms and roared, “Those amateur upstarts?!” In a rage, he flipped a chair, careening it across the lab. His chest heaved and he rubbed his hand over his head. “What sort of trick do they think they are pulling? It explains the mess! Sloppy, unprofessional!”

Keres scrambled back. Whatever rage she unlocked wasn’t what she intended, but it at least showed the distaste Jumba had for the Organization. He continued on his rant, throwing anything within reach. Everything he praised about Keres’ creation suddenly turned into flaws. How quickly the tables turned. She watched him pace, listening for any bits of information she could glean about the Organization and their methods, but it quickly dissolved into nothing more than cheap pot shots. She wondered if the comments should offend her, but they really only confirmed what she suspected: she was a flawed creation from the start.

“Jumba…” she said his name. “Jumba?” He didn’t stop and she sighed. “Are you done insulting me?”

Jumba stopped just short of throwing another seat, blinking as he came back to his senses. “Ah…” He rubbed his head. “No, no, I am here to help you. It is fortunate, in fact, that they were sloppy. Makes it much, much easier for me to help.”

She looked away. The concerns about his intentions with her withered down slightly. 

“The little girl, ah, Lilo, told me you are unable to control yourself.” The excitement in his voice filled the lab, getting louder and more confident with each word. “Soon I will have a device that will suppress this excess darkness. See, your cells are self replicating the darkness. No matter how much you use, more will come.”

“So this… device. It would let me keep control?” Keres asked. 

“Exactly!” Jumba motioned towards her. He reached up to his upper arm. “It will attach here. Buttons will control the amount you allow through. Darkness keeps replicating, but with this, you only react to certain amount at a time.”

Keres nodded, eyes narrowed in thought. “But wouldn’t that be dangerous? It keeps making more of itself and I’m not using any to get rid of it. At some point, wouldn’t it be too much?”

“Ah, yes, yes, good point.” He wagged a finger, about to sit down before he realized he’d thrown his seat a few minutes prior. “You will come back here. Use this chamber to release the darkness.”

She looked around the large confining room.

“It is my testing chamber,” Jumba explained. “Each of my creations experimented with their powers here. It is indestructible!”

Keres stood up, her legs shaking. She stumbled to the side, but balanced herself. Holding out her hands, she took in a deep, long breath. Sparks of electricity flickered around her fingertips. Meeting together, the sparks arched into a violent bolt. Red hot metal burned, its ashy metallic scent suffocating the room. As quick as it appeared, the lightning flashed away and Keres looked around at the blackened scorch marks along the walls and floor. 

“A moment,” Jumba advised before Keres could speak. 

Thick clear ooze seeped out from between the tiles. It globbed over the walls, turning black as ash and burned bits of metal mixed into it. Then it slunk back into the seams, leaving the walls pristinely clean. 

“Do you have anything else?” Jumba asked and Keres spun around to face him. “Your darkness should return to full power soon. Then you can really show me what you can do!” 

Keres nodded, at a loss for words. She looked around at the room, a sense of ease washing over her. No matter how powerful, she’d be kept at bay in here. Jumba went back to work at the monitor while she took it all in. She attempted more spells, even attacked the glass directly. Any crack, any marred surface, the ooze repaired it. Houdini watched with fascination. Keres could see the prints of his paws pressed against the other side of the window, his body still rendered invisible. 

It didn’t take long for Keres to reach her limit and she sat back down, sweat gleaming on her skin. “What do you think, Houdini?” she asked, looking over at the paws against the glass. “Do you think Jumba can really make something like that?”

With a sparkling magic, Houdini appeared. His big glassy eyes stared back at Keres and he nodded, his ears bouncing. Keres smiled softly. 

Jumba glanced over his shoulder. “Your body produces a large amount of darkness on its own, thanks to that amateur Organization tampering with your cells. It shouldn’t be hard at all to make a device to filter out this excess and keep you more in balance.” He turned around, leaning his back against his desk. “I tell you. In the old days, I would have much rather modified you to make such a thing impossible - then no living creature in the universe could stop you!” He cackled, his back arching as he laughed maniacally. “Ah,” the laughter died down and he wiped tears from his eyes, “but I am reformed.”

“You really were an evil genius, weren’t you?” Keres asked, starting to become amused by his antics. 

“Still am!” he countered, offended. “Just, not as devious as before.”

Keres let out a huff of breath, the corner of her mouth smirking. 

“So, you know this Organization well, then, yes?” Jumba asked. 

She hesitated before nodding, her smirk falling. “You?”

Jumba sighed. He slumped to the ground, sitting down with his back against his desk. “They have been trying to get their hands on my experiments for a very long time. I often wondered who would capture me first, the Galactic Federation or the Organization!” He laughed. “After coming to Hawaii, I thought I finally lost them. But I was smart and cautious. And I invented a scanner to be alerted to their presence. I believe the last time they were here was only a year ago. Well, until today.” He motioned towards her. “I was looking into an alert when little girl tell me you ran away.”

“I set off the scanner?” she asked and Jumba hummed, wobbling his head back and forth. 

“I am unsure,” he admitted. “But you are their creation. So you setting it off is not unlikely.” 

There were enough of the Organization’s fingerprints inside her to be recognized as them. Or maybe the scanner sensed something else. She hadn’t the slightest idea where Saix disappeared to. His Corridor might have been enough to set off the scanner. Since she arrived, she hadn’t been sure why Saix would lead her back to Hawaii, but now, she found it possible he knew of Jumba’s abilities all along. He knew she’d find help. But why would he want that for her? He was part of the reason she was created in the first place. 

“But I wonder how you arrived,” Jumba said.

Keres snapped her attention back to him. 

“Are the Organization somewhere here on the island?” he asked. 

“I… don’t know,” she replied, her finger picking at the cracks in James’ bracelet. “One of the Members, Saix, released me and opened a path for me. It led here. I don’t know where I was before. Just a lab.”

“I see.” Jumba rubbed his chin. “This pathway led you out of the lab. Is this lab in Hawaii? It can’t be! My scanner… Unless they were settled there before my scanner was created. My device watches for incoming visitors, not ones already here.” With a groan, he stood up and went further into his lab. “I must change the scanner's parameters.”

“The path might not have been made in Hawaii,” Keres called after him. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s a portal that can travel across different worlds.”

“Eh, it is still good to double check!” Jumba replied, already gathering his tools. “Better safe than sorry I always say!” He carried his large bag of tools to the desk across from Keres’ chamber. Houdini scurried and grabbed one of the tossed away chairs, bringing it over for Jumba to sit. “Thank you Six-oh-four.” Jumba patted Houdini on the head. He spun his seat around and began taking apart the scanner. 

Keres watched him work. He muttered to himself, holding out his hand for tools that Houdini quickly retrieved for him. Sparks flew, the walls flashed with blue light. The entire lab felt different from the Organization’s. Large, colorful devices stood at varying heights around the space. The walls curved towards the vaulted ceiling, where lines of electric lights brightly illuminated the room. Above the desks, Keres spotted hand drawn pictures taped to the wall, as well as printed photographs of what appeared to be random people at the beach. Despite all the lab equipment and seemingly sterile environment, stuffed animals poked out from under desks. There was even a rag doll sitting on top of a seat, its limp stuffed arms on the keyboard as if it were another scientist along with Jumba. 

“Does Lilo come in here?” Keres asked. 

Jumba paused, he lifted his protective metal mask to look around the lab. “Ah, yes, little girl enjoys seeing my work. She come here to learn about my experiments. She and Six-two-six have captured many of them!”

“Six-two-six,” she repeated. “Is that Stitch?”

“Yes, yes, Stitch,” Jumba waved his hand, getting back to work. “He left shortly after the Organization did. They’ve tried to capture him many times!”

“Lilo said he was helping someone.”

“I do not recall man’s name,” Jumba told her. “Six-two-six seemed to believe he could help him stop the Organization. Haven’t heard much since. It must be going well.”

It was reassuring to know there were others aware of the Organization. Though, Keres wondered what would become of anyone that tried to threaten them. The only ones she trusted to succeed with the venture were Sora and Riku. Perhaps Sora was the man Jumba referred to. She could only hope. 

Jumba tossed aside his tools and picked up the scanner. “Finished!”

“Already?” Keres asked. “How did you-”

“Shush, let us try it out.”

He reinserted the scanner in its designated console. The computer monitor above it blipped on, a map of Hawaii appearing. White pulsing rings swirled around the map, until an opaque circle blinked and everything zoomed in on the location.

“AHA!” Jumba slammed the desk with both of his hands. “There they are!” He pointed to the dot, looking back at Keres with wild eyes. “What did I tell you?! They have been here the whole time!”

Keres got up to her feet. She walked up to the glass and pressed her hands against it, getting a better look at the map. There it was, a base hidden beneath a mountain.

“What do we do about it?” Keres asked. 

The darkness in her mind hissed, its voice returning. “We burn it to the ground…”

“We burn it to the ground!” Jumba repeated the words unknowingly, hitting the desk again. He laughed brutishly. “Let this be the last time this Organization messes with me, Jumba Jookiba, Evil Genius!”

He ran further into the lab, his feet thudding heavily against the floor. Excited ramblings filled the lab as he began gathering supplies and making a plan. Keres didn’t say anything. He agreed with her darkness, and she couldn’t deny the temptation to do the same. The whole time, the Organization had a base here. Was that where Xigbar and Saix were trying to take her initially?

“What are you called?” Jumba asked, standing right in front of the glass. 

Keres startled out of her dazed stupor, seeing him standing there with arms full of supplies. “I-I’m Keres.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. “You will come along, Keres.”

“I… Oh, okay.” She took in that information as Jumba went right back to gathering things. 

He yelled back at her while he paced around the lab. “We will need a team! A select few of my experiments will do. We just need to find where little girl put them. And one we will have to convince. He works with Gantu and Dr. Hämsterviel, but his hacking abilities will be just what we need to bleed the database dry!”

Keres nodded, absorbing it all. The darkness festered with excitement in the pit of her stomach, making her sick. “What about the device? Will that be done in time?”

“Ah, yes, yes,” Jumba assured her. “You will have everything you need. But ah! You will also need your energy. Six-oh-four!” Houdini rose to attention. “Ready her room in the chamber.”

With a chirp, Houdini scurried over to the monitor by Keres’ chamber. He climbed up onto the stool and pressed a few buttons. The tiles in the floor rumbled. Sections lowered, sliding away as furniture raised up in its place. A small bed appeared, along with a bedside table and a lamp. In the other corner rose a shower and toiletries, before being concealed by folding walls. 

“How often do you keep people here?” Keres asked. 

“I have six hundred and twenty-seven experiments!” Jumba reminded her, but somehow that didn’t quite explain it enough for her. “Now, get your rest. We will begin the hunt tomorrow!”

Before Keres could even reply, the lights to the entire lab dimmed to black. She hadn’t even noticed Jumba and Houdini slipping out towards the door as she was too taken aback by the appearing room around her. Two lights remained. The bedside lamp carried a warm golden glow, but it couldn’t touch the dense blackness on the other side of the glass. The other light bloomed underneath the makeshift bathroom, causing silhouettes to show through the folding walls separating it from her bedroom. 

Now alone, the darkness talked freely, teeming with anticipation for their upcoming ‘hunt’, as Jumba put it. Keres didn’t know what to think. She swayed side to side, exhaustion weighing heavily over her. She didn’t entertain the darkness’ whims as it chittered about all the things it wanted to do to the Organization Replicas. If she tried to focus on any one thing it said, she was overcome with a dizzying sensation that made it difficult to think. She was too tired, that’s all it was. She hoped. 

Dragging her feet, she went to take a shower, detangling her hair and washing away the bits of sand still caked to her skin. The heat of the water helped clear her mind. She wasn’t sure what Jumba had in mind for the following day. Recruiting specimens and tracking down the Organization’s lab, she was starting to get excited. Her heart fluttered at the prospect of joining a team, even if for a little while. 

Cleaned up, she made her way to the bed. Mr. Fluffy Bear sat on top of the comforter. Keres laughed breathily. It seemed Houdini and Lilo were set on making her keep that worn down thing. She picked it up, running her thumb along its fuzzy cheek. Then she got into the bed, her muscles releasing a wave of praise for finally having something soft and welcoming to rest on. She looked out at the lab from beyond her chamber. Thin streaks of moonlight streamed through far away windows, attempting to illuminate the lab, but to no avail. Bits of dust danced in its light, sparkling like stars. 

Keres watched them dance, her eyelids heavy and body drifting into a deep trance. It didn’t take long before she fell asleep.

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

Starlight illuminated the dirt path to the Benbo Inn. The air was crisp, fresh from the drizzle of rain earlier in the evening. It was a beautiful night, different from the way Sam remembered Montressor. She recalled the thin layers of dust painted over every surface and the murky clouds of exhaust from ships flying past. A small part of her believed Montressor was different from the distaste she held for it. As if her pain masked its true qualities. 

She walked along the path with Ben and Hinata, trailing two steps behind. The Benbo’s silhouette appeared on the horizon. Golden light warmed its windows, beckoning weary travelers into its walls. Sarah had been doing well for herself since the reopening. Even with closing time approaching, the restaurant bustled with life. 

Coming closer, Sam recognized her mom through the window. She stopped midstep, allowing the others to go on ahead. Her mom delivered meals to a window side table, unaware of Sam watching her. She smiled at the customers, even laughed. Sam’s jaw tightened. Even without being inside, Sam could imagine the sound. It’d been years since she’d heard her mom’s laugh, but the memory of it rang in her mind with pristine clarity. All that time, no matter what she and James did, her mom withered away. It was as if she’d forgotten anyone else existed. But there she was, working, laughing, doing something with herself. Sam should have been happy for her, and a small part of her was. Another, larger part of her couldn’t understand what she’d done wrong. Why wasn’t she able to make her mom happy?

A sharp, chilling breath filled her chest and she looked away. Tears glistened in her eyes and she cleared her throat, roughly wiping them away. 

“Sam?” Hinata approached her.

“Just,” Sam put up her hand, “give me a minute. Alright?”

Hinata nodded, deciding against saying anything else. Instead, she waited beside Sam, looking up at the stars. Ben already disappeared inside, getting them a table. It left the two of them in comforting silence. 

“It’s dumb,” Sam sniffed, wiping at her nose, “after I left here I tried to convince myself it didn’t exist anymore. Mom, the shop, James… I was too far away for it to catch up to me.”

A long stretch of silence went before Hinata replied, “It’s not dumb. I think… it’s what you needed to do to keep moving for a while.”

“Maybe.” Sam ran her hand through her hair. “It didn’t last though, did it?”

Hinata looked towards Sam, then towards the Benbo. “We don’t have to do this.”

Sam shook her head. “As much as I want to forget this place… I want to find my dad more.” She took in a deep, long breath. “I can do this.”

“Then I’m right behind you,” Hinata told her. A soft smile spread across her face when Sam looked back at her. “Let’s find your dad.”

Sam returned the smile and nodded. 

Together, they went towards the Benbo and went inside. Instant warmth greeted them with a cheer from the patrons. They recognized Sam and she waved a half salute in response, surprised at the bustling excitement. Her mom wasn’t in the dining room at the moment. Sam took the opportunity to acclimate to the surroundings and followed Hinata to their table where Ben awaited them. 

Once seated, Sam pressed her earpiece. “Hey, Lupe?”

Only a moment passed before Lupe’s voice came through. “I’m here. What do you need?”

“I was just… wondering if you’d be able to take notes or something when I’m talking with my mom,” she explained.

“Sure thing!” he replied. “I was planning on it already anyways.”

Sam’s mouth twitched with a short smile.

“You got this, Sam,” he encouraged and Sam huffed out a short laugh. 

“Thanks,” she replied, removing her hand from her earpiece. 

Her fingers drummed against the table. Ben tried to keep the spirits up, suggesting things on the menu and asking about them. Hinata took care of answering his curiosities while Sam looked around the inn. The kitchen doors swung open and Jenna walked through them with a pitcher in her hands. Sam’s chest ached, her heart drummed out of sync with waves of nerves. This was it. 

She got out of her seat, her legs heavy and slow. Walking over, she dragged her feet, forcing them to move. Jenna’s back was to her and Sam stopped an arm’s length away. Her throat went dry, her tongue swelling. “Mom,” she forced the word out, her voice dull and short. 

Jenna froze. She turned around, her eyes flickering with a range of emotions at the sight of her daughter. The rest of her expression remained unchanged and she let out a shaking breath. “Jane. It’s… good to see you.” 

“I need to talk to you after work,” Sam told her, unable to hold her mom’s gaze. “Alright?”

“Y-yes, of course,” Jenna stumbled over her words. Sam noticed her hands trembling around the pitcher. “Anything you need.”

Sam twitched. Anything she needed… She swallowed the cutting remarks in her throat and nodded. Without another word, she turned around and went back to the others, letting Jenna continue to work. She slunk back into her seat, only then releasing the breath held captive in her chest. Ben and Hinata both watched her, until Hinata directed Ben’s attention to something on the menu, giving Sam a moment to collect herself. 

Sarah arrived shortly after, ready to take their orders. As she retrieved Sam’s menu, she smiled gently and said: “I’m glad you’re here, Sam.”

Sam strained a smile, looking away. “Thanks for taking her in…”

“I was happy to,” Sarah told her, tucking the menu under her arm. She looked over to where Jenna was serving another table. “It’s good to see her trying. She’s done well for herself here.”

There wasn’t much Sam could say to that. It hurt to hear, even though she knew it shouldn’t have. She nodded, following Sarah’s gaze towards her mom. Sarah put her hand on Sam’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before walking away. A lump choked Sam’s throat and she breathed in deeply. 

“Do you want us here when you talk to her?” Hinata asked and Sam nodded before the words even left. 

Hinata accepted the answer without saying anything else. Their late dinner consisted of very few words shared between them, even Ben quieted down and seemed preoccupied inside his thoughts. An hour passed before the final patron left the Inn and Sarah locked the door. She and Jenna got to work cleaning the dining room while Sam fidgeted in her seat. Hinata got up and offered to help with the cleaning, recalling her time working there even though Sarah didn’t remember such a thing. With the extra help, everything was taken care of and Jenna approached the table. 

She untied her apron and carefully folded it over the back of a chair, before sitting down. Her thin hands folded in her lap and she sat with her back straight and poised. Sam shifted in her seat to face her, trying her best to keep her expression leveled. 

She took a breath and reached into her pocket, pulling out a metal locket. Its bluish tint shone under the firelight of the hearth, accentuating the engraving of Montressor’s planet symbol on its surface. It clinked against the table and Jenna’s eyes drifted from Sam towards it. 

“It’s about dad,” Sam told her. 

Jenna didn’t speak. Her shoulders released a tension that cascaded over the rest of her body. The straight posture curved into a slump, like losing most of its will to keep her up at all. Her gaze flitted away. 

This was the version of her mom she remembered. Sam bristled, as if all the previous tension from her mom went and wormed its way into her. Still, she needed information and her mom was the only person that could provide it. “Did James ever show you this?” she asked, sliding over the locket. 

Jenna hesitated before picking it up. Her slender fingers traced the indentation, but she didn’t open the clasp. “Yes.”

Sam waited for more, but there wasn’t. She chewed on her tongue. Resentful remarks swirled in her head, each one biting at the bit to be released. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a breath, spreading out her hands. She could get mad later. Opening her eyes, she pressed further, “Did anything in the recording stick out to you?”

Nothing. Sam sucked in her lips, then opened her mouth. She could see Hinata watching her mom, a mixture of confusion and pity in her eyes. That’s all it ever was for her mom.  

“Breathe.” Lupe’s voice came through the ear piece. 

Sam breathed in deeply, desperately trying to ground herself. “Clarisse said you seemed to recognize her world when she told you about it. And she said the droids in the recording are from her galaxy.”

Jenna’s brow furrowed, a deep sorrow washing over her eyes. “We shouldn’t talk about this.”

Sam’s hands slammed against the table and everyone jumped. “Like hell we won’t! You know something!”

“Sam!” Ben exclaimed, but Sam pushed her hand against his face to shut him up. 

“If you know something, you need to tell me right now.” Sam’s eyes burned with passion and resentment. “I’ll find him with or without your help, but you could make it a hell of a lot easier if you just got over yourself!”

“Jane, please,” Jenna said with a soft, shaking voice. “I… there is nothing I can give you.”

“Why?” Sam pressed. 

Jenna looked up at her, eyes hollow. “Your father made his choice to leave.”

Sam scoffed. “You don’t know that!”

Jenna stood up from her seat, her entire body trembling. “I’m sorry.” She turned to leave, her hand steadying her against tables as she walked. 

“You can’t stay like this!” Sam got out of her seat, yelling after her. “Do you even care how much we’ve lost? I’m trying to get something back and all you say is ‘sorry’?!”

Jenna paused. She leaned against a table for support, head drooped forward and hand over her mouth. Sam waited, her face flush with anger and eyes stinging with tears. Her chest heaved and she swallowed hard, trying to reign herself back in. 

Hinata’s hand settled on her shoulder. A warm comfort spread through her and it took everything in Sam not to break. Hinata walked past and went around to be in front of Jenna.

“I know you’re trying to protect her,” Hinata said. 

“She’s all I have left…” Jenna whimpered into her hand. 

“Then why do you keep pushing me away?” Sam asked, her voice shuddering with sobs. “All I’ve done since dad left is try to make you care. But you never have!”

Jenna shook her head. “I’m so sorry…”

Sam rubbed at her eyes, sniffling. “I’m done. I can’t keep doing this with you. Every damn time I keep expecting you to change. If you’re not going to help me find dad, then I’m leaving and I’m not coming back.”

“No, Sam,” Lupe said with a firm tone that shook Sam out of her tunnel vision. “We need that information. Don’t close the door yet.” 

Ben stood up and walked up beside her. Lupe’s voice came out of him. “Let us talk to her.”

Sam looked over at him, both impressed and embarrassed he intervened. It was the perfect interruption to take her out of the moment and she nodded, getting her leveled thoughts back. She took a few steps back and lowered into a seat. 

“Jenna, we want to help,” Hinata said. She gently grabbed Jenna’s arm and helped her sit down. “I don’t know if you realize but Jarith might be trapped in another galaxy right now.”

Jenna listened, her gaze distant. 

Lupe joined, using Ben’s body to kneel in front of Jenna. “We think he might be on a world under a Separatist Blockade. Have you heard of that before?”

That got Jenna’s attention. She blinked, looking up at them. 

“Which could mean he didn’t get a choice in whether he could come back or not,” Lupe continued to explain. 

“If you have any idea where he could be, we could help him,” Hinata added. “He might even be able to come back.”

Jenna’s shoulders heaved and she broke. Her sobs filled the inn. Lupe stood up, giving her space while Hinata rested her hand on Jenna’s back, gently running her thumb back and forth. Lupe looked back at Sam and made his way to her.

“All this time,” Sam muttered, “she actually thought he abandoned us.”

“Can you blame her?” Lupe asked. “Clarisse said the blockades keep communications from going through. Anything from either of them got intercepted. She might have thought he died until she saw the recording with him alive.”

“Then she assumed the worst,” Sam finished the thought and Lupe nodded. She let out a long breath and shakily moved to stand, until Lupe offered his hand to help steady her. Going over to the table, she grabbed the locket and went back to her mom. “Look… Mom, I…” She knelt down in front of her where Lupe was before. “I don’t know what dad will be like now or what will happen, but I know he never would have left if he knew he couldn’t come back. And I think you do, too.” She held out the locket again and Jenna looked at it through her reddened eyes. “Please.”

Jenna turned her hand over, accepting the locket. She ran her finger over the indentation once again, but this time undid the clasp. The hologram of the vision flickered to life. The domed underwater world came into view, sea life swimming just outside the confines of the gel-like walls. Droids walked past, their feet clanking against the marbled floors. Then Jarith came into view, gazing out into the sea outside. Jenna reached out to touch him, her finger going through the hologram. 

“Anything you can tell us,” Sam urged. 

Jenna nodded, closing the locket. Her tears dried against her cheeks, unwiped. She stared at the closed locket, before curling her fingers around it and holding it close. “Glee Anselm… his homeworld. That is where he is.”

Sam grinned, then it fell. “You knew. This whole time.”

“Yes.” Jenna replied. “He promised to be back…”

“And you just kept waiting,” Sam said and Jenna averted her eyes. Sam stood up. She backed away, unsure what to feel. Her mind hurt with all her thoughts pulling in different directions. With a nod, she simply said, “I’m going to get him back.”

Jenna didn’t reply. She retreated back into her mind, her eyes going distant. Sam let out a breath, recognizing the look. The anger in her chest sparked, but fizzled out almost immediately. She was too tired to fight anymore. 

“Thank you,” Lupe said to Jenna, still getting no response. 

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning,” Hinata told everyone. “Sam, you can stay here tonight.”

Sam wordlessly nodded, already moving to head upstairs. 

“Jane.” Jenna said. Sam paused at the stairwell and Jenna held out the locket. 

Sam waved her hand dismissively. “Keep it. I-um, I made it for you.”

Jenna blinked and looked down at the locket as Sam went up the stairs. ---------------------------------------------------

Back in the synthetic Twilight Town, Sam lounged on Lupe’s couch. Metal shards and wires covered the coffee table, each one precisely placed in line with the hologram above them. Blue light dusted over them and along the walls in the dimly lit room. Sam idly picked up a piece, laying on her back as she half heartedly added it to the partly created device in her hands. 

She could hear muffled voices from Lupe’s room. He listened in as Hinata and Ben went back to Clarisse to settle the details of where to find Glee Anselm. Then they’d be off. Though another galaxy meant a long trip, an anxious one at that. Sam already felt restless. 

Chirithy toddled into the living room and hopped up onto the couch beside Sam. “Can I be of any assistance?”

Sam huffed out an amused breath. “You already organized everything. I think I’m good.” She paused and glanced over. “But, thanks.”

It took the decline rather well and watched as Sam worked. She didn’t put much thought into her movements, her mind instead replayed the evening before over and over again. It kept her up all night. Once she got her dad back, things would change. She’d be able to prove to her mom that they weren’t given up on. Maybe that’d get her out of the god awful slump. Or make it worse since she’d realize all the time she lost. Sam’s grip tightened and a screw careened to the other side of the room. 

“I’ve got it,” Chirithy assured her, disappearing and reappearing around where the screw landed. It hopped around, searching, while Sam sighed and ran her free hand over her face. “Aha, here it is.” It turned around and tilted its head. “Sam, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she muttered. 

Chirithy hummed, reappearing on the couch. It placed the screw back in its rightful place on the table. “You’ve made good progress on the tracker. I think it’d be ok if you wanted to take a break.”

The device slipped from Sam’s hand onto the table with a thud. “Thanks.”

Chirithy watched her for a moment more, its round head tilting this way and that. Then it disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Sam heard it talking with Lupe, whispering something or other about her. Lupe’s head poked out from his room and Sam lifted a hand in greeting. 

“Don’t just look!” Chirithy whispered loud enough for Sam to hear. 

Lupe slipped back into his room. They talked a moment more and Sam sighed. 

“You guys know I can hear you, right?” Sam called and they quieted down. 

“Oh yeah?” Lupe asked. “What’s the last thing I said?”

Sam hesitated, before snorting and throwing up her hands. “Ok, I don’t know exactly what you’re saying, but I know you’re talking about me.”

Lupe snickered and walked out of his room with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. “Nah you’re hearing things. Hina and Ben should be back soon, then we’ll be on our way.”

“Great,” Sam said in a way that sounded sarcastic, but it wasn’t meant to be.

He looked over the table, nodding. “Looks like you got a bit done. I think.”

She snorted again. “You have no idea, do you?”

He scrunched his mouth and shook his head. Sam rolled her eyes with a scoff. 

Lupe looked around the apartment, puffing his cheeks and blowing out air. Then it seemed like an idea came to him and he walked over, smacking Sam’s knee. “Come on, I’ve got an idea.”

She peeked up at him, but didn’t move. 

“Come on,” he laughed, motioning his arms despite them being in his pockets. “It’ll be great.”

“Fiiiine,” she groaned, getting up. 

They left the apartment and went down the stairs, each step rattling and vibrating the entire stairwell. Twilight Town was calmer than usual. Whatever festival they’d been celebrating finally seemed to end and things were getting back to normal. Sam followed after Lupe, her gaze settled on her feet while Lupe smiled at nearly every person they passed. 

“There you are!” a girl’s voice jolted Sam’s attention. She looked up to see a slender blonde link her arm with Lupe’s. She smiled sweetly, but had a layer of worry in her green eyes. “I was beginning to think you were sick.”

Lupe chuckled, rubbing the back of his hair. “Yeah, sorry about that Anise. I hadn’t meant to make you worry. I’ve been a bit busy.”

Anise giggled and assured him it was fine. She didn’t even acknowledge Sam there beside him. Normally, Sam would have assumed it meant the girl was trying to show off, mark her territory with a guy or something stupid like that. The type of thing Sam saw all the time when she was in school. But this didn’t seem like that. The longer the interaction went, the more stilted it felt. Anise’s eyes weren’t quite right. They lacked a certain life about them. Did Anise even know she was there?

“Hey,” Sam greeted slowly, her brow arched when Anise took a moment to see her. 

“Oh! Hello!” Anise replied, her eyes finding Sam’s. “I didn’t see you there. Are you a friend of Lupe’s?”

“Something like that,” Lupe replied before Sam could engage more. He slid his finger under Anise’s chin and tipped her face up. “I’ll check in with you soon, ok?”

Anise giggled and clasped her hands together in front of her, beaming an incredibly sweet smile. “Sure! That sounds great.”

Sam blinked. It was like Anise didn’t even react to the affection. Lupe continued on and Sam took one more look between him and Anise before following after him. 

Catching up, she asked, “Sooo, is that the girlfriend Hinata was telling me about?”

Lupe chuckled. “Hina spotted me with her, huh? Wonder when that happened?” He noticed Sam still looking at him expectantly and he shrugged. “We’re not dating. Anise is just a friend.”

Sam leaned forward, brows raised. It was nice to have something else to talk about besides Montressor. “You sure? Cause I don’t see a lot of people doing whatever you did to just a friend.”

He ruffled his hair, blowing out a breath. “It’s, ah,” a suave smirk curved his mouth, “it’s complicated.”

“Hah! Sure.” Sam rolled her eyes. “Well it sure seems like she’s into you.”

She didn’t see the way his smile fell slightly.

“Yeah?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“I mean, it was like she didn’t even see me until I said something and I was right there.” 

Lupe hummed. He seemed thoughtful for a moment before perking up and changing the subject. “So about my idea…” He sped up to be in front of her and walked backwards. “How do you feel about training?”

Sam groaned, throwing back her head. “Please tell me that’s not your idea. You’re like Hinata. Finally get free time and the first thing she wants to do is spar.”

Lupe snickered. “Let’s make a game out of it. You win, and I’ll tell you anything you want about Anise.”

She perked up at that idea. “And if you win?”

His brow raised as if it were obvious and Sam looked away, annoyed. 

“Do I look like I want to talk about my mom?” Sam asked. 

“Then you better make sure you win,” Lupe goaded, grinning when she glared up at him. 

“Can’t we train Avan some more or something?” Sam asked.

“Come on, just give it a try,” Lupe said, nudging her with his elbow. He spun around on his heel and led the way. “I’ll even let you get the first move.”

“Oh wow, can’t wait,” she grumbled, still following him regardless. 

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

Sam set up the training console. DiZ liked to have them training in the coliseum mockup, but that seemed too massive for what her and Lupe were wanting. Behind her, Lupe whispered with Chirithy, going through strange medal trinkets and attaching them to Lupe’s Keyblade. She didn’t know what they were going on about and tried to tune them out while she searched for a new arena. 

She flipped through a forest environment and even one set under the water, but settled on a simple round room. It was larger than the sparring room on the Highwind, but small enough to not feel overwhelming. They’d have their space to move around without things in the environment getting too distracting. With a few select buttons, the arena through the window glitched into a new setting. 

“This ok?” she asked, turning around.

Lupe got up, his Keyblade at the ready. He looked through the window at the arena before rustling her hair. “What, you didn’t like the underwater one?”

Sam swatted him away. “If you’re going to be so picky, why don’t you pick one?”

He snickered. “Nah it’s fine. Simple works.” He swung his Keyblade over his shoulder. “Ready?”

She nodded, then glanced back at Chirithy putting the medals away in its bag. “What were those things?” she asked, motioning her head towards it. 

Lupe held out his Keyblade, showing five slots beside the hilt. A distinct medal settled in each slot, shimmering with different colors of aura. “They’re my spells. They basically enhance the blade.”

“Huh,” Sam looked at them. Each medal had intricate art decorating its surface with either gold or black metal trimming it. “Cool.”

Pressing the button, a white light encapsulated them and they reappeared in the center of the arena. Sam pulled out her staff, clinking the two halves together. She went to the far side of the room while Lupe did the same on the opposite end. They turned around, facing the other. Sam’s heart accelerated. She hadn’t been nervous about sparring before but realized she’d never battled a Keyblade Wielder before either. She shifted her weight. Now wasn’t the time to be getting cold feet.

“As promised, you get the first move,” Lupe said, motioning towards her. 

Her mechanical arm whirred to life, the crystal’s light seeping out from the seams. A burst of energy shot from her palm and Lupe leapt into action. He sidestepped, the shot blasting into the wall. Sparks and chunks of rock spewed into the arena. Lupe's Keyblade ignited with magic. A ball of sparking electricity formed in front of him, shooting out an arch of lightning. Sam stood her ground, smirking. She reached out her hand and captured the bolt in her palm. It absorbed into her arm, circling it with blinding light. 

She grimaced, sliding back from the force. Seeing her distracted, Lupe fired another spell, this one swiping with a blade of wind. It slammed Sam’s waist, throwing her across the room. The remaining power of the lightning boomed against the floor. Scorch marks laid in its wake. Sam rolled back to her feet, aiming and firing a barrage of blasts in Lupe’s direction. His blade came up, blocking each and every shot and sending it flying in another direction. 

Sam growled, ducking to miss one of her stray shots. “Can’t you even get hit?!” 

“I’m sure at some point I will!” Lupe replied with a stupid grin that only spurred Sam on. 

She swung her staff, separating it. Lupe fired another spell. Several bolts of lightning spired from the ceiling. Sam weaved between them, ice crystals covering half of her staff. Coming out from the storm, she yelled, throwing her staff towards him. As expected, he spun out of the way and it pierced the wall behind him. Shards of ice formed around it, crawling across the ground. Lupe’s foot slipped forward, realizing all at once that he now stood on a layer of growing ice. He smirked towards Sam, impressed. 

The staff shook, crystals shattering around it before it flew back into Sam’s hand connecting with the other half of her staff. Another spell swirled through the air, dark clouds surrounded the room, shrouding the lights. Thunder rumbled, concealing the sounds of footsteps. Sam’s arm helped her see, but only what was directly in front of her. She turned as she walked, a charged shot at the ready. 

She stepped on the ice, gasping and sliding forward. Lupe snickered, the sound giving Sam just enough to go off of. She fired at the sound, clouds billowing out of the way and revealing the walls. At the sight, she went haywire and shot in every direction, dissipating the clouds. She didn’t see Lupe.

Her chest heaved and her fingers tightened around her staff. He had to be somewhere. 

“On your left!” Lupe yelled and Sam spun around, lifting her staff and clashing it against Lupe’s Keyblade. 

She skidded back, the force of the blow more powerful than she ever would have expected from him. “Why’d you tell me?” she demanded, barely having the chance to defend for another blow. 

“Just making it fair!” Lupe countered with a strain in his voice, unrelenting with his attacks.      

One attack, then another, each one destabilizing Sam until she fell to the ground, her staff clanking away.  She scrambled back, arms burning. A shot fired from her palm and Lupe hit it away about to come in for another hit. Sam winced, waiting for it to come, but it never did. She opened her eyes, looking up. He stood above her, Keyblade limp at his side. Sweat dripped down his face, his chest heaving, but he smiled, shrugging. 

“You did good,” he told her.

She looked away. Of course he won. And now he stood there expectantly for her to pour her heart out. The last few puffs of the dark clouds wisped away, leaving the room visible again. Shards of the wall lay scattered across the floor along with blackened scorch marks scarring every place a deflected shot landed. It really had been quite the battle. 

Wiping the sweat off her brow, she fell onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Entire lights were blown out, raining a trail of sparks from the severed wires. 

“What are you expecting me to tell you?” she asked, breaths labored. Lupe didn’t say anything and her chest tightened. “You dragged me out here and put me up to this. You don’t have anything to say about it?”

Still no reply, though she heard Lupe walking. 

She groaned. “I don’t know what you’re looking for. My mom never cared. You saw it last night. That’s it.”

“Was she always like that?” Lupe asked softly.

“What does it matter?” she asked, blinking back a mixture of tears and sweat. “My mom stopped living the moment my dad left. Didn’t matter what happened to me or to James, she didn’t do anything. She might as well have been missing along with him.” She scoffed and laughed bitterly. “She didn’t even come and see me when I lost my fricken arm. Took two years before I finally left.”

Lupe sat down and laid back on the opposite side of Sam, their heads barely touching. “You had to drop out, didn’t you?”

Of course he already knew. Sam sighed. “Someone had to keep a roof over our heads.”

“But you’re still a tech genius,” Lupe said and Sam choked out a half laugh. 

“Mostly cause of my dad,” she replied. “School didn’t really teach anything like that. And it’s not like I made a lot of friends there anyway. Humans aren’t exactly popular back on Monstressor.”

Lupe hummed. “You and Sarah seemed to be doing pretty well for yourselves.”

“Yeah, well we both happened to know people that went on that Treasure Planet Expedition,” she said.

“Hinata for you,” Lupe said. 

“Jim for Sarah,” she finished. “Without them, both of us were sunk.”

“But you managed to keep the shop going for a while before Hinata got there.”

“Barely,” she admitted. “Sometimes James would get his hands on some money that helped out. But we were scraping by until Hinata showed up.”

Lupe was quiet for a while and Sam almost thought he’d gotten his fill, before he said, “You had to grow up on your own.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I guess I did.”

“And you resent your mom for that.”

Sam’s eyes stung and she cleared her throat. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I don’t really remember my family.”

Her gaze flitted around the wrecked arena. “Not even little things?”

“I know I had one,” he replied. “Siblings, maybe?” He let out a breath. “I know I miss them.”

A tear streamed down Sam’s cheek. “I… I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to make it about me,” he said. 

“You didn’t.” Sam shook her head. “I miss my family, too.” 

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their thoughts. 

“I think that’s part of the reason I get so mad around my mom,” Sam broke the quiet. “I grew up thinking she cared about me. About all of us. Then… turns out the only one she really loved was my dad. Rest of us didn’t matter anymore. Not enough to do anything about it.” She ran her hand over her face. “I know she’s broken. And I know she’s finally trying, but why now? Why not then? It feels like the only thing pulling her out of it is the fact my dad might be alive. Which… only makes things worse.”

Lupe hummed. He didn’t seem to have an idea of what to say in reply and Sam didn’t blame him. Talking things out about her mom hurt, her body ached and eyes burned, but it also relieved a tension inside her. Someone knew, someone even possibly understood. She breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes. 

“Thanks… for listening,” she whispered.

“Of course,” Lupe replied with a smile in his voice. He let the quiet linger before saying, “You wanna know how I met Anise?”

Sam smirked. “I thought I had to win to learn such privileged info?”

Lupe snickered. “This one’s on the house.”

She chuckled too. “Well alright. Tell me how you met her.”

“It was a while ago before I met you guys. I didn’t know what to do with myself when I first woke up in Twilight Town. Chirithy and I had no idea how we even showed up there or who we were before. So one day I was just wandering the streets and this girl from the candy shop noticed me and offered me a free candy.”

“And that was Anise?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he replied with a fond laugh. “It made my day, honestly. Someone reaching out to help a stranger. After that I started going to her shop to buy candies whenever I felt sad and eventually we started talking. I offered to help out once and carried a heavy box into her shop, and she offered me to stick around and I hung out inside the shop with her. She taught me how to serve the customers and put me to work,” he laughed. “She even made fun of me when I messed up. But it was fun and a great way to kill time. I… think it’s cause of her I was able to land on my feet and get on track before I met you guys.”

“Wow,” Sam said. “And you’re not dating her?”

Lupe snorted and Sam sputtered into a laugh with him. “You’re not letting that go, are you?”

“Definitely not,” Sam told him with amusement still heavy in her voice. “But she seems nice. I’m glad you had her.”

“Me too,” he agreed. 

An intercom flickered to life, Ben’s voice coming through it. “Hello? Check, check… Is this thing working? I don’t see the light.”

“Oh my god.” Sam pressed her hands against her face. 

“Ah! There we go,” Ben cleared his throat. “We’re officially on our way to Glee Anselm! We will be arriving in approximately… fifteen hours. So make yourselves comfy, put on a movie, and enjoy the ride!” The hum of the intercom switched off and they were left alone again. 

Fifteen hours until they reached her dad. The nerves surged inside of her and she let out a shaking breath. She pushed herself to sit up, hissing at the way her muscles throbbed. 

“I’m going to spend the entire time in a hot bath,” Sam said and Lupe chuckled. 

“Can’t say I blame you.” He stretched his arms. “But if you get out before then, the offer’s still up to train Avan. We should probably get him ready since it’ll be his first mission.” He stood and offered his hand to Sam, helping her up. 

“Good call,” she said, looking around. “I should probably call Jim, too.” She blew out a breath. “Guess it’s good we have such a long ride till we get there.”

Lupe smiled softly at her, then looked out towards the glass window that led back inside the lab. “Hey Chirithy! You can bring us back when you’re ready.”

White light covered them and they reappeared back inside the lab. Sam thanked Lupe for the training and made her way back to her room. She glanced back at him once before she left completely, smiling to herself. 

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

**Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading!

I forgot to mention in the previous chapter, but everything on Hawaii with the experiments is all based on the Lilo and Stitch tv show! You can find the whole thing on Disney+ it’s super cute. Houdini is from ep23 in the first season. And Mr. Fluffy Bear appears in ep2. There will be a good handful of experiments in the next couple chapters, I’ll make sure to cite their episodes (if they have one) in the author’s notes. It’s just fun to see where they came from!

And in case anyone is curious or confused about Stitch’s whereabouts, he is indeed helping Sora out right now. Remember when you find him in KH2 in Hollow Bastion? He falls onto Ansem’s computer and then becomes a summon. So in this story, he left to try to find a way to stop the Organization and ran into Sora along the way. So they are working together to do it. 

I’m really enjoying going back and forth between Keres and the others. This has been something I’ve been nervous about, but now that we’re here, I’m having a lot of fun. Keres is blossoming into her own and everyone else is diving deeper into themselves and growing from it. 

Glee Anselm is coming up next for our Highwind Crew and it’s going to be such a blast. I’ve been brushing up on my Star Wars for it and I think I’ve got things outlined. Jarith is going to be interesting too. 

Anyway, thank you again for reading! If you enjoyed it, please don’t forget to leave a comment with your thoughts! 

Have a fantastic week!**

[enkisstories]

Let us reach back... through the mist of time, where memories float adrift, forming the foam on the ocean of history.

A tune gets picked up and carried on by the chill november wind. It bobs up and down, a rhythm in harmony with the ocean waves...

Poe: ♪ There once was a ship that set out to sea... ♪

Poe: ♪ ...the name of the ship was the Billy O'Tea ♪

Hux: ♪ The winds blew up, her bow dipped down ♪

Rose & Finn: ♪ Oh blow, my bully boys, blow ♪

Kylo & Rey: ♪ Da-da-da-da-da Da-da-da-da-da-da-da Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da ♪

Hux: "Master Dameron! They forgot the text AGAIN!!!"

Rose: "There is no "Master Dameron" on this ship, Armitage! We'll share the risk - and the spoils - equally!"

Finn: "Right! We broke with the company. They can kiss my ass!"

Kylo: "But when they do, we sue them for buggery, haha!"

All together:

♪ Soon may the Wellerman come To bring us sugar and tea and rum One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go ♪

---

I'm playing my whaling challenge from two years ago again. Back then I lost, what was it again, three ships and something like two thirds of the crew? No seamonster rolls this time, just plain fishing.

Shiplife posts wil randomly turn up in between the Batuu posts. I think they're easy to tell apart, so not much confusion to be expected?

[finnified]

the waves beckoned finn easily from the darkness. 

he sat with his knees pulled to his chest on the cool sand. the foam scampered up the ground and then slid back, an eternal game of keep-away it would never win. 

ships sailed in the night ocean. it counted the flags, peered to see the colors- heron, kestrel, heron again. no kites on the water this time of night- some kind of awful symbolism that made it want to roll into a little ball on the sand. 

his ears perked as that sand shifted in a noticeably particular way, not just from the wind but from- 

footsteps? 

finn whipped his head around and was greeted with a lanky, dark-eyed individual with chocolate-colored spikes of hair standing up all over the back of their head. dozens of polished trinkets caught the moonlight on their body- rings and necklaces and little bits of silver hanging off their belt. finn blinked, trying and failing to locate a faction insignia amidst the layers of fabric. 

“bit chilly out for a good old fashioned brood, isn’t it?” the heavily accented voice laid strongly in the air between the two, the standing pirate leaning down slightly to observe the sitting kite.

“you’re the new lad, aren’t you?” the dark-haired stranger asked, sticking one of her legs out to settle in the sand next to him. “blackwood, innit? you used to be a kestrel.” 

“regrettably,” finneas grumbled, flicking an ear at them. “am i supposed to know you? are you a kite?” 

“it’s better that you don’t, but i am,” the stranger laughed. “the name’s adalwulff- captain adalwulff.” she stuck out her hand strongly in front of finneas, and although he had to twist his body awkwardly to shake her hand he still did so. 

“what’s a fine young man like you doing out on a winter’s night all alone?” the captain offered finn a conspiratorial look, as if they were close friends and not completely strangers. something about their energy was strangely familiar to finneas- like a hearth that was the same kind of comfortable no matter where the fire was lit. it flicked its tail twice, considering adalwulff briefly. 

“someone i know tried to cut off one of my fingers today,” he settled for, deliberately avoiding looking at his hand, which was still firmly jammed into his breast pocket. adalwulff gave him a curious look, not quite sympathetic but not judgemental either.

“well, the salt’s not going to help it much, hm?” the captain offered, her dark spikes of hair waving back and forth in the bitter wind pouring off of the ocean. “you should probably take care of that. you need a hand?” after a moment, their face lightened. “my bad. maybe you need a finger?” 

finneas doesn’t quite laugh, but some sort of pale, twisting levity breathes deeply behind its eyes. adalwulff hauled themself to their knees, and then their feet, their dark red pants trailing out behind them and catching salt crystals from the tide. finn kept its hand jammed firmly into its breast pocket, but took with the other the grip that adawulff offered to hoist him to his feet as well. 

it spared one more long glance out over the ocean, watching a heron ship disappear off towards the heron ports. a gaggle of seabirds circled noisily over the sheer cliffs. mist rose over the water.

finn jumped as a strong hand clapped its shoulder. “distractible little thing, aint you, blackwood?” captain adalwulff steered him up towards the driftwood steps that would bring them to the ground level of the public kite living space. “you should work on that- not a good trait on the water.” 

“trust me, i know,” finn grumbled miserably, but for some reason still allowed himself to be led like some sort of lost child under the guidance of someone he could trust. 

—

local boy has depressive episode/panic attack on beach, picked up nonbinary woman for his wet-cat esc tendencies <3

[ebaeschnbliah]

‘In this phial is caught the light of Eärendil's star’

`And you, Ring-bearer,' she said, turning to Frodo. `I come to you last who are not last in my thoughts. For you I have prepared this.' She held up a small crystal phial: it glittered as she moved it, and rays of white light sprang from her hand. 'In this phial,' she said, `is caught the light of Eärendil's star, set amid the waters of my fountain. It will shine still brighter when night is about you. May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out. Remember Galadriel and her Mirror! '

Frodo took the phial, and for a moment as it shone between them, he saw her again standing like a queen, great and beautiful, but no longer terrible. He bowed, but found no words to say.

Now the Lady arose, and Celeborn led them back to the hythe. A yellow noon lay on the green land of the Tongue, and the water glittered with silver. All at last was made ready. The Company took their places in the boats as before. Crying farewell, the Elves of Lórien with long grey poles thrust them out into the flowing stream, and the rippling waters bore them slowly away. The travellers sat still without moving or speaking. On the green bank near to the very point of the Tongue the Lady Galadriel stood alone and silent. As they passed her they turned and their eyes watched her slowly floating away from them. For so it seemed to them: Lórien was slipping backward, like a bright ship masted with enchanted trees, sailing on to forgotten shores, while they sat helpless upon the margin of the grey and leafless world.

Even as they gazed, the Silverlode passed out into the currents of the Great River, and their boats turned and began to speed southwards. Soon the white form of the Lady was small and distant. She shone like a window of glass upon a far hill in the westering sun, or as a remote lake seen from a mountain: a crystal fallen in the lap of the land. Then it seemed to Frodo that she lifted her arms in a final farewell, and far but piercing-clear on the following wind came the sound of her voice singing. But now she sang in the ancient tongue of the Elves beyond the Sea, and he did not understand the words: fair was the music, but it did not comfort him.

Yet as is the way of Elvish words, they remained graven in his memory, and long afterwards he interpreted them, as well as he could: the language was that of Elven-song and spoke of things little known on Middle-earth.

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron! Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni ómaryo airetári-lírinen. Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva? An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë, ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë; ar sindanóriello caita mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë. Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar! Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!

`Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind, long years numberless as the wings of trees! The long years have passed like swift draughts of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West, beneath the blue vaults of Varda wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly. Who now shall refill the cup for me? For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars, from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds, and all paths are drowned deep in shadow; and out of a grey country darkness lies on the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever. Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar! Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell! ' Varda is the name of that Lady whom the Elves in these lands of exile name Elbereth.

Suddenly the River swept round a bend, and the banks rose upon either side, and the light of Lórien was hidden. To that fair land Frodo never came again.

The gifts for:  

Boromir, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, Sam: ‘I have brought in my ship gifts’

Aragorn: 'Now it is time to drink the cup of farewell.'

Gimli: `And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?'  

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, Farewell to Lórien

.

JRR Tolkien reads ‘Namárië ’:

‘Namárië ’ - setting by Donald Swann, sung by William Elvin, recorded 1967:

[myfriendtuvok]

Poems and Tales of Middle-Earth

Lady Galadriel's farewell song:

"Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind,

long years numberless as the wings of trees!

The years have passed like swift draughts

of the sweet mead in lofty halls

beyond the West, beneath the blue vaults of Varda,

wherein the stars tremble in the song

of her voice, holy and queenly.

Who now shall refill the cup for me?

For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars,

From Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds,

and all paths are drowned deep in shadow;

and out of a grey country darkness lies

on the foaming waves between us, and mist

covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever.

Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar!

Farewell! Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar.

Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Galadriel’s Lothlorien

'By strange paths has this Company been led, and so far to evil fortune. [...] And now we must enter the Golden Wood, you say. But of that perilous land we have heard in Gondor, and it is said that few come out who once got in; and of that few, none have escaped unscathed.' (Boromir)

'Say not unscathed, but if you say unchanged, then maybe you will speak the truth,' said Aragorn. 'But lore wanes in Gondor, Boromir, if in the city of those who once were wise they now speak evil of Lothlórien. [...]

'Then lead on!' said Boromir. "But it is perilous.'

'Perilous indeed,' said Aragorn, 'fair and perilous; but only evil need fear it, or those who bring some evil with them.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Legolas told them tales of Lothlórien that the Elves of Mirkwood still kept in their hearts, of sunlight and starlight upon the meadows by the Great River before the world was grey. [...]

The voice of Legolas faltered, and the song ceased. 'I cannot sing any more,' he said. 'That is but a part, for I have forgotten much. It is long and sad, for it tells how sorrow came upon Lothlórien, Lórien of the Blossom, when the Dwarves awakened evil in the mountains.'

'But the Dwarves did not make the evil,' said Gimli.

'I said not so; yet evil came,' answered Legolas sadly."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Frodo saw the valley of the Silverlode lying like a sea of fallow gold tossing gently in the breeze. [...] It seemed to him that he would never hear again a running water so beautiful, for ever blending its innumerable notes in an endless changeful music."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.

Some there are among us who sing that the Shadow will draw back, and peace shall come again. Yet I do not believe that the world about us will ever again be as it was of old, or the light of the Sun as it was aforetime. For the Elves, I fear, it will prove at best a truce, in which they may pass unhindered and leave the Middle-Earth for ever. Alas for Lothlórien that I love!' (Haldir)

THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING dir. Peter Jackson | 2001

[unknownjpegs]

choices

All he has to do is look in the parking lot. If the car’s there, that’s how Benji knows.

When the last gold of the yolky horizon dips away, the sunglints off that car's windshield at a certain angle. It will zip straight across the street, right into the shop's front window.

Benji could move out of the way. It'd be only a half step to the left to avoid the cut of light. But he likes those afternoons, when he has to suddenly squint against that flash. It's a nice reminder, midway through his shift, that he'll have some company once dusk wanes fully into night.

So Benji doesn’t move. He stands in the same spot behind the register. And he even slides the shitty foam mat further from the till. Maran prefers it closer, because the light does the same in the morning. 

If the car’s there.

*

It becomes close to a ritual. 

“I’m sure you get tired of those questions.” 

Xavier glances down at him, the fabric of his jacket audibly rough against exterior brick. It feels familiar, although he can’t place why. It isn’t the first time Benji has joined the man on his break. It won't, he hopes, be the last. As long as the car's there, Benji will be here.

He wonders if Xavier realizes the fabric of his jacket will snag and tear if he keeps moving. Swaying. He doesn’t mention the possibility, because the other man might stop and he admits to liking the rhythmic press of an arm into his shoulder. 

Xavier is warm. 

“What do you mean?” 

Benji snorts. He says it like it’s one word, slurs it all together. It’s endearing. “You know. What I just stupidly asked you.”

“I like talking about it.” Xavier admits. He ducks his head bashfully. “And it is kind of fun seeing the shock on people’s faces when I tell them. I look too young for —" he wiggles his fingers. "The cloth. Or…look something else. Dunno. Like trouble.”

This time, it gets a full barking laugh from his chest. Benji rocks back a little with it, then swipes at his face.

“Naughty.”

“That too.”

“Oh, cheek. Shut up.”

Xavier leans forward at the waist, dramatically twisted until Benji’s forced to look him in the eye.

“No. I like talking to you about it.”

Xavier's own face looks a bit red. Benji finds his heart clenching about that. He has a mental image, for some reason, of that envelope sitting on his desk at home. The crisp seal, confirmation of a deployment date.

“And a lot of other stuff.”

Benji turns at the waist abruptly, but Xavier catches his elbow. They both glance down at the wrap of fingers there. Xavier snatches his hand back. 

He tries not to take that seriously. 

“Careful,” Benji jokes with a frown. His chest feels strange. “Undue influence. Wouldn’t want you to get it infernal or anything, just for listening.” 

“It wouldn’t be the listening,” Xavier deadpans almost to himself. He laughs. “Besides. I’ve really enjoyed your perspective. And your, um. Company.”

Don’t. Oh, fuck, Xavier. Don’t do that. I’ll miss it. I'll miss you.

“Yeah, same here.” Benji pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. Then: “Xavier, listen. I need to tell you something—”

*

Do you ever wonder what would happen if you chose different?

Sometimes.

 Yeah, me too. Sometimes. 

*

He stubs the end out on the concrete step, eyes unfocusing as the orange glow crashes out against grit.

“I was sorting out the lie I was gonna tell you.” Benji admits. From his peripheral, he sees Xavier’s head snap towards him. He feels the observance for a long, dragging moment. “You know. When you run through it to make sure it’s believable with enough details, but not too many.”

“About?”

“Hm?”

“The lie.” Xavier laughs. "What was it about?"

Benji waves a hand between them.

They're in a simulation room, not the real stoop on which they used to pass time. It's real dystopian, if he thinks about it: big projections of landscapes and earthly luxuries, clouds and mist and wind from vents in the walls. Benji prefers the mundane reality. And he reflects on that a moment too long once, gets spiraled into a sort of guilt that makes him feel...pretentious. It's just that he misses the little things. The smell of gravel and construction, night air, everything mixed with an aftershave he won't be able to forget.

He gestures again, realizing the silence has stretched awkward. It's shy and slower, because he is the one that has selected this particular amalgamation of settings. It's him who welcomed Xavier into this projection; a medium sized-city street, speakers playing the distant static of night in one. The mock rain makes him smile slightly. 

“The lie. Uh. That I don’t think about it.”

Xavier stares at him. Maybe stunned. Maybe letting him work through the rest.

Benji reaches over and plucks the cigarette from between pale fingers. He regards it for a long moment. And then he stubs it, too. The dirt beneath their feet is fake, but the simulation adds a lighting change and a delicate hiss as if the earth is wet. It's eerily accurate.

“I guess it's pretty obvious I do.” Chin set in a palm, he glances up at Xavier. "I do, by the way."

Mossy eyes finally leave his — momentarily. They dart in a circle around the four walls. Benji sometimes imagines the room crushing suddenly under pressure. How quick would it be? How long until the whales got to the bits that floated up off the sea floor? Would he get passed over for something more substantial? These days, he feels all air inside.

Morbid.

“This is supposed to be a good quiet place. Other than the chapel. You know, for when we start losing our minds. The place we can meditate, take a deep breath.” Xavier's mouth twists in a familiar, cheeky grin. It's a fraction youthful, but nowhere near what it once was. Benji thinks about that, too.

"Yeah?"

“Connect with —” he waggles his eyebrows. “Whatever.” 

Benji’s smile fades a bit. “Right.”

He doesn’t tell Xavier that it isn’t simple self-deprecation. That’s not a bit he could commit to without the snappy chest-churn of honesty. He has thought about this moment. Does, rather. So fucking often. And he does it here, even. In this very room, when the rest of the base is so fucking loud. He knows that probably isn't health. Hanging onto old things, or whatever. But it hadn't done him much good, the assumption that the ache — the crush — would sort itself out between the time and the distance. Maybe it had started to do exactly that. Now that that they were in confined quarters? Together again?

Still. It feels impossible to speak about it now, looking at Xavier. They're both older, and yet Xavier is completely the same. That had Benji feeling spun about, dizzy. Nauseous in an exhilarated way, rather than sick. It wasn't jealousy, or some nasty predation. It was relief.

You still look soft. You look like you were given time and tried to enjoy it, even when it was shit. I wish I could have done that. Did you know that former spec op lads are at higher risk for stroke? Even at this age. It’s the mental load — the stress. Did you know I have this spot of gray at the back? I thought about cutting it off. 

“Do you ever wonder—” Benji starts, turning to him fully, but Xavier does too. Their knees knock together. They hold each others’ gazes, and the moment blisters. "I mean, if you had made different—"

“Choices?” 

Benji’s mouth twitches. It's not quite a smile, but it feels familiar.

[sprayinsul46]

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[favoriteginger]

So! That elvish library huh? With all those books?

Well, seeing as the books are in Sindarin and I am a huge lotr nerd I decided to translate them

Translations under the cut because this is gonna be a long one folks

The first book I translated was the one with the spells and such, because that was a good simple starting place.

Of the three pages we saw, the first two have two spells each and the third has one spell

The two spells on the first page refer to fire (naur): "Fire be for saving of us!" and "Fire against the wolf-horde!"

Now, we could read into this. But I'm pretty sure that these are both from the one scene in the Hobbit where they throw flaming pinecones at giant wolves. Plus, all the other phrases and stories and such are from lotr and related texts.

Onto the second page:

These two phrases are from the Doors of Durin scene in the Fellowship of the ring: "Elvish gate, open now for us!" and "Doorway of the Dwarf-folk listen to the word of my tongue!"

And the third page, with its singular spell:

This is the incantation Arwen uses to fend off the ringwraiths outside of Rivendell in the Fellowship movie: "Waters of the Misty Mountains, listen to the great word, flow waters of Loudwater, against the Ringwraiths."

Ok! On to the other books, which have much longer texts!

This first one is a Sindarin translation of Galadriel's Lament, which she sings in Quenya (another elvish dialect) when the fellowship leaves Lothlorien:

"Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind, long years numberless as the wings of trees! The long years have passed like swift draughts of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West, beneath the blue vaults of Varda wherein the stars tremble in the voice of her song, holy and queenly.

Who now shall refill the cup for me?

For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the stars, from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds and all paths are drowned deep in shadow; and out of a grey country darkness lies on the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever. Now lost, lost to those of the East is Valimar! Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar! Maybe even thou shalt find it! Farewell!"

The last section isn't shown in the video, but I assume that it's the text on the second page of the book.

And finally! The last Sindarin book we see in the library:

This last text is A Elbereth Gilthoniel, which is Sindarin song in praise of Varda (who's mentioned in Galadirel's Lament). The second page seems to be the second bit of the first page just copied and pasted, but here's the translation:

"O Elbereth who lit the stars, from glittering crystal slanting falls with light like jewels from heaven on high the glory of the starry host to lands remote I have looked afar from tree-tangled middle-lands and now to thee, Fanuilos, bright spirit clothed in ever-white, I will sing here beyond the Sea, beyond the wide and sundering Sea"

So yeah. Have some translations

Seeing as I am not fluent in Sindarin, I used Parf Edhellen for a lot of this. It's a pretty good elvish dictionary, definitely recommend

Also just, lore note: does the fact that all of these translations are not only in Sindarin but also come from the Lord of the Rings make lotr canon to Empires, at least partially? Like on top of the fact that Sausage has used Sindarin in relation to Xornoth before and the fact that Scott just straight-up named his empire Rivendell?

also hhhhhh this took me like an hour and a half and i lost all my work halfway through. the lengths that i go to for this series smh /lh

[bestworstcase]

ALSO. there are a lot of religions in TDT, but these twelve and the two brothers and salem and ozma are the only quote-unquote real gods, as in Entities Who Exist For Real. (although there are also a multitude of deified culture heroes and the like whose mythic origins mostly do not trace back to salem or ozma; maidens and silver-eyed warriors and turnskins and a grab-bag of historical figures who just happened to become the face of some extraordinary event or another.) so if you read or plan on reading TDT and you would like to play a fun game called “guess who, if anyone, became the basis for this mythical deity.” here you go.

the spiritual boundaries between remnant and the ever after are porous, so while the reaper is the only aspect who can manifest physically on remnant and people from remnant only very seldom find the gate, it’s not uncommon for the tree’s aspects to appear to people in dreams, thus their cultural influence.

The Chandler, called the Seed Enkindled and the Fires-at-Night and the Cinereous Waxwing, appears as a elderly man with snow-white hair, the face of a songbird, and glowing cinders in place of his eyes. His ashen robes are streaked and stained with the red wax-drippings of memories shed by the dead, which he collects and uses to make his candles. In this way, all things are kept, and all things renewed. His season is Spring.

The Vagrant, called the Rootless Shell and the Marcher Lord and the Midnight Diviner, appears in many forms and many faces; he was once what he seemed to be, but no longer. His lamentations can be heard in the hush of surf upon sand and rain upon soil. He sees only what is hidden. He knows only what has been forgotten. The words written on the underside of his skin contain portents, for those who know how to read them. His season is Autumn. 

The Courser, called the Nacreous Pulse and the Light-Through-the-Mist and the Salt-and-Snow, appears as a unicorn—but only when it cannot be seen. In the mist, in the blade of moonlight piercing the canopy, in the foam on the wave, the Courser glints beyond the eye. Give chase, and it will lead to something, but only once. It likes pearls, and plum-cakes. Its season is Winter.

The Parabola, called the Wayward Rootstalk and the Thread Unspun and the Improbable Loom, appears as a ewe with opalescent wool, the curling horns of a ram, and helical horns of a markhor. She is enigmatic; she is found most often inside mirrors; she knows every secret backwards, and story from end to beginning. Her season is Summer.

The Dreamer, called the Crown Conflagrant and the King-in-Red and the Infernal Abscission, appears only in the mind. He takes the form of a skeletal bird wearing vestments of fire and smoke, sometimes a candle-flame, sometimes an inferno, always ablaze. Will he ever wake? Has he? His season is Autumn.

The Walker, called the Deep-Root and the Coiled Serpent and the Stillness-in-Motion, appears as a vast serpent in the abyssal depths beneath the world. His jaws are mountains; his throat is the black nothing between the stars. He cannot be seen, only felt. The darkness before dawn is his, and deep water, and still unquiet things. His season is Winter.

The Artisan, called the Germinating Seed and the Mouth That Opens and the Circle Drawn By Itself, appears as a giant woman of wicker and painted clay and rusted metal, clad in patchwork. She is the shaping hands of what is becoming and may yet become, although she does not know what will be. Her season is Summer.

The Singer, called the Flowering Branch and the Thing With Feathers and the Rhyme in the Rime, appears as a winged serpent whose feathers whisper secrets; it gives voice, phantomwise, to a hollow keening song. Its season is Spring.

The Herald, called the Unyielding Heart and the Seed-in-the-Char and the Agrestal Pathfinder, appears as a pale rabbit with bleeding eyes, her ashen fur begrimed with soot. She may be found in the ravages of wildfire; she may be seen leaping and dancing in the jaws of flame. All things strive. Her season is Summer. 

The Reaper, called the Sitient Thorn and the Black Vulture and the Flower-Maker and the Goat-With-One-Thousand-Teeth and the Lady-of-Wilds and the King-of-Beasts—for she has been known by many names in many places—appears however she pleases, and it pleases her to change. Her fur and feathers are oil-dark; she crowns herself with the coal-black horns of a ram; her eyes glitter green; she reeks of vegetable rot and brine. Her true name, if she has one, might be the Wrathful Sky. All things want. Her season is Spring.

The Poet, called the Red-Within and That-Which-Bleeds and the Eloquent Magpie, appears as a black-and-white bird. Her keel opens, a red mouth fringed in glistening fangs. The heart is a tongue, and the tongue is a heart. All things grasp for what they lack. Her season is Autumn.

The Ever, called the Call and the Question and the Unspoken Word, is present in all things and all times, yet never appears. It is the gloom in the inkwell and the desolation of the empty page and the red behind the eyelids shut by the blinding sun. Ever may it shine, unseen and unheard. All things rest by changing. Its season is Winter.

are you willing to share the details on tdt! zhan tiri

behold my incomprehensible diagram!

um. after v9 i lost all sense of restraint, on the grounds that the blacksmith is an aspect of the tree and therefore the tree reasonably might have other aspects, and then there were four, and then there were twelve. lmao. (the artisan is the blacksmith—she’s depicted as a wood carver and lewis called her ‘the lively carpenter,’ so i figured she’d give herself a more nonspecific name.)

because i am also shaking heraclitus between my teeth like a terrier with a rat, Only One ever exists at a time; the tree is always becoming itself and its aspects shift and flow and transform into each other. in various directions and by varied means. ANYWAY,

those quartets (was/is/will-be) are not temporal categories but rather (copying straight from my lore notes here):

Presiding over forethought and remembrance, the Was concerns itself with what may be known: prophesy before, and memory after, for Time is the circle which remembers itself. It would be a mistake to say that the Is presides over, because the Is does not rule; but it might preside at the choosings, the turnings, the changings, and so the Is circumnavigates the Soul. Some things do not change—some things can never be changed—and over what is unchanging and unchangeable, the Will-Be presides: over strife, over hunger, over graspings, over flux.

was is about the flow of time and knowledge, is concerns action and choice, and will-be are manifestations of inevitability—things that Always Are. if you are uh. familiar with bitter snow zhan tiri i’m sure you can guess where she Goes…

The Reaper, called the Sitient Thorn and the Black Vulture and the Flower-Maker and the Goat-With-One-Thousand-Teeth and the Lady-of-Wilds and the King-of-Beasts—for she has been known by many names in many places—appears however she pleases, and it pleases her to change. Her fur and feathers are oil-dark; she crowns herself with the coal-black horns of a ram; her eyes glitter green; she reeks of vegetable rot and brine. Her true name, if she has one, might be the Wrathful Sky. All things want. Her season is Spring.

she is—as in bitter snow lmao—a little unusual in that she’s not a quote-unquote true aspect of the tree but rather something hungry that came from somewhere else, from the dark country which is nowhere. it is ESSENTIAL FOR HER CHARACTER that she’s a strangler fig. always. so she is kind of a quasi-parasitic trespasser into this Situation but also, in the same way that real stranglers protect their living host trees from being uprooted by storms, not an adversarial one necessarily.

what that means in practical terms is the reaper is the exception to a lot of the, for lack of a better word, “rules” that define the tree’s nature. in her aspect as an aspect of the tree, she takes on its nature; when she isn’t manifest within the tree, though, she exists outside and independent of it. so she can, for example, go for walkies in the backyard

by which i mean remnant. lmao

on remnant, the reaper is the god of animals. she didn’t make the fauni but once they came to be she decided she liked them Best and has favored them ever since. many, but not all, fauni receive her blessing, which (like that of the brothers) confers a magical gift, specifically a form of shapeshifting.

NOT like what the branwens can do—more in the vein of ‘cultivating’ the animal-like traits you already have as a faunus, so if (for example) you were born with shark teeth you might learn to rearrange your respiratory anatomy and grow gills, or give yourself sharklike skin. this can be done in a way that is permanent (this is called ‘ripening’) or not (‘borrowing’). most fauni who learn mix and match a bit (and there are different formal ‘paths’ that combine techniques in different proportions and intensities).

the gift itself is called khime and the practice is khimancy; humans often misunderstand khimancy as sort of a fauni tradition combining auralerie and konurgy (dust-magic) into a single art, but that is. um. Wrong.

(it is possible for master khimancers to fully turn themselves into an animal, but it takes a lot of dedication and many years of training to get there. the ones who get there are called turnskins and they’re rare, like on the level of silver-eyes rare.)

anyway the Reason not every fauni in the world receives khime is she only gives it to the ones who ask. asking is Really Simple—just a small ritual to get her attention, though the specifics vary a lot between different sects—and in many fauni cultures it’s seen as a rite of passage marking the end of one’s childhood. but because it’s a religious practice specific to khimerism, obviously not everyone Does It.

conversely, it isn’t Just For Fauni in the sense that a human could petition the reaper for her gift if they so chose, and she might say yes. for all intents and purposes this is Converting To Khimerism and under khimeric law makes you a faunus—although it won’t cause a physical alteration right away, there is a process for revealing your true form.

this is PRETTY RARE but not unheard of. there’s a handful of fauni folk heroes who are said to have been born human and either left in the wilderness as infants and being saved by fauni parents or outcast from human society and turning to the god of animals for solace; mythically speaking, the idea is that, just as the god of animals offered their gift to some humans who refused, perhaps there might be a very few humans whom they missed, or who weren’t born at the right time, and such people will find their own path to where they truly belong.

(IN CASE IT ISN’T OBVIOUS i’ve chosen to veer off the ‘racism allegory’ angle by leaning into the religious aspect of fauni identity; the narrative in ‘the shallow sea’ is essentially “we are our god’s chosen people and through this covenant we were changed” so—in the context of TDT where the god of animals and their shape-changing magic is real—if one chooses to convert and accept that covenant one can become a faunus. the reverse however isn’t true: one can leave the religion and relinquish the gift, but that doesn’t get rid of the fauni traits. nothing is erased, nothing forgotten.)

salem knows about her. (her opinion is chiefly “stop. trying. to eat. my. grimm.” they have tea sometimes it’s complicated.) ozpin thinks the god of animals is a myth, if a curiously persistent one. and the reaper is also like… at least half of remnant’s cryptids because when she’s out for walkies in the backyard most of the time she does it as a horrible mishmash Creature. when fauni characters say the Lady or the King they’re talking about her. she is both the Lady and the King because she doesn’t know what a gender is (and at this point she’s too afraid to ask) and she picks her pronouns on the basis of “i’ll have what my friend is having :)”

the god of light. HATES HER. she crawled in through the jabberwalker (no relation to the walker) (theophoric name) and latched onto the tree before the brothers could Get Rid of her and then made herself part of the tree Somehow!!! (you are what you eat) so now she just exists outside of his power.

(the brothers were both actually far more powerful than the tree when they left the ever after, because the tree is a passive force, it cannot act outside of itself, but the brothers had no power over the tree. so the reaper can’t overrule the god of light on his ultimatum—although she’d like to—but he can’t do anything to stop her from going for walkies. he just seethes impotently.)

[deinelamia]

How ghouls appear when they are summoned

Every ghoul has a sigil designed by the Coven to summon them the first time and the witches that urgently need one of them in a specific place usually use quick variations of those and short formulas.

Dewdrop

He appears with a noisy "POOF!" and sulfuric smoke. You better have a good reason to summon him like that, he doesn't like it at all and if a fool sibling tries it for fun, it will end ugly. My nun adores to summon him without any specific reason just to annoys him, but she is the one who is in charge of preparing all the rituals for the first summoning so she knows well how to restrain the feral gremlin lmao one day I will talk about her

Aether

The place instantly becomes darker and a purple portal appear middle air. If you quickly watch into it you can see nebulas and stars. DO NOT enter into it, it may look pretty but being into the void of space is not a pleasing experience.

Mountain

When you summon this silent giant a quick earth quake will predate his manifestation. The ground will crack and from it our earth ghoul will appear. It is not visually so special, but it scares the fuck out most of people (especially because Mount is very tall).

Rain

If you are inside a building the ceiling will start leaking and from these drops will appear Rain. If he is not too happy to be summoned this lil fucker will keep the ceiling leaking for a while to annoy/concern the summoner before manifesting himself. If you are outside he just tends to appear from foam on the ground after hearing the sound of waves.

Cirrus & Cumulus

Both of them appear from little tornadoes, but there are some differents between our beloved ghoulettes: Cirrus tends to shoot quills from the tornado she appears from and Cumulus roars very loudly. It is very dangerous to summon them if you don't cast a restraint spell.

Swiss

Swiss usually appears from portals of fire and he adores to just jump out from walls and such just to give heart attacks to the poor witch who summoned him. Before appearing you can hear the sound of his tambourine (or a damaru, it depends how close you wanna listen) playing and then he will appear dancing, of course.

Omega

His way of manifesting himself is pretty similar to Aether, but a bit scarier for novices. The lights will start flickering and then they just turned off, everything becomes silent and a huge black portal appears; Omega will jump out of it, illuminating the whole room.

Mist

A light and cold fog will appear on the floor, crawling over the ankles of the summomer. From it Mist will appear with a small pirouette.

Alpha

Summoning Alpha is like playing with too many firecrackers at the same time. The sounds is so loud and literally jumps out from this sudden fire.