#right wing dipshits ruining people’s lives

[cadking]

Shoutout to all the guys in my government class who clapped when trump said the “only two genders, man and woman” thing and for none of the other policies. It really illustrates how the only thing that most young conservative men (and more than likely a majority of the women on the right, although theres a lot to be said about predation among girls from a young age and grooming to hate oneself that men just don’t experience) are simply motivated by hatred.

They could care less about the foreign policy, although, when prompted they will full-chestedly support the genocides our government backs, and won’t hesitate to refer to the victims as animals or less than human, doubtlessly due to propaganda and hate. They could care less about the economy, most of them haven’t gotten a single paycheck in their life, and if they did they would blow it all on fortnite anyway. They could care less about the “Gulf of America” and all the heroic patriotism that little stunt will doubtlessly bring to our great and prosperous nation (/sarcasm.) They only care about the harm that they can do and that they are encouraged to do to the Other. The president said that theres only 2 genders, and you cant change them, that means i can rail against your right to exist freely and express yourself the way you want. That means i can force you to be the way you should be. The president said so.

Thunderous applause. Thunderous applause.

And the most vulnerable will be screaming.

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 25: “For The Glory of Academia!”

We got to see Asuka/Alexis and Edo/Aster over in Fusion Dimension, but what about the rest of the cast? Show us some Fusion counterparts today! What are these dorks up to and what part do they play in the war?

I forgot to post this yesterday! Got sidetracked by an unrelated project.

Zane would tots remember his other life before the OP dipshits went and broke reality.

“I can’t believe I’m hunting my own sister.”

He says it quietly. Atticus doesn’t use his usual volume or dramatic flare; he says it quietly, furiously, for only Zane’s ear to hear. So Zane doesn’t respond or look at him or give any other indication to the rest of their party that Atticus is speaking to him. Because he could have said aloud, he could have said it angrily too, and no one but Zane would have been the wiser.

“What gives them the right to call her a traitor?” Atticus hisses, still furious. “Why is it so wrong to not want to participate in a war?”

War. Genocide. Because that’s what this is no matter how many pretty words Academia spouts about creating a utopia. The sickening thing? There are people who’ve been on the front lines that still believe that farce.

‘If you’re not with us, you’re against us’ as far as Academia is concerned, but Zane doesn’t need to tell Atticus that. The two of them only stuck around because they still have younger siblings to think about. Or had. Zane chances at glance at his friend and already sees the decision on his face.

“Go,” he says just as quietly, and Atticus tenses but doesn’t react further. “Go after her. Just you. Don’t come back.” From the corner of his eye, Zane sees his friend start to protest and cuts him off. “We’ll stage it. Give them a reason to think you aren’t coming back.”

He waits for it to click. Then a tiny, breathless little laugh. “Yeah. Okay.” Atticus eyes roam their surroundings with renewed focus, not looking for dissenters but anything that will help them put on a show.

They get lucky when they corner a resistance member away from prying eyes. The building comes down and only Zane walks out.

Academia buys it. Officially, Atticus dies in the line of duty.

Weeks later, a new resistance leader calling himself ‘Nightshroud’ makes a persistent nuisance of himself and Zane nearly chokes at the sight of Atticus in that damn mask.

They might need to have a conversation.

Where did he even get that thing?

They do have a conversation, several in fact, because Zane starts feeding the resistance information. Between ‘Nightshroud’ on the front lines and Zane playing double agent behind the scenes, the resistance gains ground and rises from being a nuisance to an actual threat.

But good things don’t last. Good things have never lasted in either of Zane’s lives. Aster is a hard ass on a good day, and Zane’s never liked him on principle. He gives Zane the stink eye but never goes beyond that. Bastion is tolerable, but Bastion is also smart, so it was probably inevitable that he would eventually look at the communications logs and realize two plus two does not equal five.

“Zane, I don’t want to believe this,” - and Zane believes that much, Bastion has a horrible poker face - “but the evidence would suggest...perhaps someone is trying to frame you.”

A copout. Zane almost snorts. “You’re reading too much into this,” he says and walks away. Maybe he could have taken the copout and found someone else to take the fall. Maybe pride kept him from doing so. Maybe he was sick of this place and looking for a reason to make an explosive exit.

Bastion goes to Aster with his findings.

Zane makes a very explosive exit.

He only regrets not being able to take Syrus with him.

*

“WHAT?” Chazz sputters, nearly jerking straight off his chair. “Zane fucking Marufuji spilt on Academia?!”

Atticus grimaces. Word travels fast around here, and he’s not surprised Zane’s defection is talk of the town considering how flashy it was. Honestly, he’s more concerned how this will affect the resistance; they’ve been operating on Zane’s intel for months. Catching Alexis’ gaze, he sends her a grin, unsure how reassuring it actually comes across.

“Huh.” Chazz leans back in his seat, already recomposing from his outburst. “Guess we’ll be seeing him around here before long. Weird.”

“I doubt it.” Atticus rubs his thumb against the mask in his hands. If he knows Zane half as well as he thinks he does, Zane will steer clear of the resistance altogether and draw Academia’s attention away as well. He’ll be a ‘high priority target’ after all and, unlike Atticus, everyone knows he’s still alive.

Just don’t die.

*

Syrus skirts down the hall, head down. He’s long used to the scornful looks and whispers that follow him as if they expect ‘Marufuji’s little brother’ to turn tail just like Zane did. The worst part is that Syrus doesn’t even understand why Zane did it. One day Zane was spearholding the entire movement, and the next... The next Cyber End Dragon tore a hole through the south wing that took months to repair. Syrus was yanked off field duty training and reduced to a mere errand boy.

It’s not fair. He wanted the chance to prove himself. He wanted to help build the Professor’s utopia with his own hands. But Zane had to go and ruin that too. No one will ever see Syrus as anything more than ‘Marufuji’s little brother’ and now he’s ‘the traitor’s brother’ to top it off.

It’d be different if he were here.

‘He’ who?

Syrus stops dead in his tracks, staring at the floor through wavering vision.

Someone...someone important. Someone who saw Syrus not ‘Marufuji’s little brother’. Someone who believed in him and wouldn’t let him wallow in self pity.

He isn’t here.

It hits him all at once, that realization, and Syrus breaks down crying over a person whose name he can’t even remember.

[mommymooze]

Bob

Bob-Original Character. 

Warning: Crack (yes, I found crack!) vulgar, violent, bad humor, toasty cinnamonrolls Hubert abuse

Part 1

He confidently strides around the grounds of the Monastery like he owns the place. Noone dares to tell him he doesn’t.  He’s always been curious, his quest for knowledge knows no bounds. That Riegan kid? An amateur next to him. The poisons and potions that boy comes up with? He made those before he was 9. Riegan is always bragging about Lysithia. Youngest girl to graduate from the School of Sorcery, she is such a prodigy, bla, bla, bla. He had graduated before his 10th birthday. His graduating thesis rewrote the book on transmogrification.

He doesn’t care for Claude practically sticking his tongue in Professor Byleth’s ear at every turn. Okay, so the doof hasn’t quite done that, but he can see that the guy really ‘breathily’ speaks in her ear, so he may as well be. Bob is not jealous. Byleth doesn’t interest him. Not in that way. He knows she’s the best choice for Professor for the Blue Lions. Golden Deer are too chaotic and disorganized. The Black Eagles are practically run by the Agarthans, unfortunately those idiots can’t see it. Besides, its easier to ‘fit in’ with the people of his ‘land’.  He’s a noble, in the loosest sense of the word.

His fellow Blue Lions will follow Dimitri to hell and back. Little do they know that Dimitri already has one foot in hell. The guy is nuts. The things he talks about in his sleep, well, Bob’s seen people like that before.  They have endured some really heavy shit and trauma. Usually it’s a one-way trip. Dimitri’s hanging on by a thin frayed thread and only Dedue is keeping him grounded. Looks like Professor Byleth is picking up on it. Saving Dedue’s life was the best thing that ever happened to Dimitri.

Now Sylvain, he got a rotten deal handed to him. Don’t blame him for his coping mechanism of getting back at the girls that are after him for his goods and not him. A bit self-destructive, but he does kind of enjoy it, until it goes south. Step in Ingrid, to save him. She’s such a knight in shining armor, rescuing princess Sylvain every time. Felix, he needs a complete emotional enema. He’s been blocked up since his brother died. His father’s been blocked up since his wife died. Felix locked down all of his feelings and emotions only letting out anger and hatred. Any time he has a feeling related to kindness or love, he beats it out of himself by training to death. Ashe, there is a sweet young man. A cinnamon roll through and through. He’s been through tough times and better times. You just can’t let harm come to a freaking ray of sunshine like him. Annette is definitely in the cinnamon rolls covered in sunshine category as well, even though her conception sperm donor is a dick. Daddy Gustav, ugh, Duscur screwed him in the head too. ‘I failed as a knight. I couldn’t protect them.’ So you dump your family, stick your thumb in your ass and watch Dimitri fall apart? Really? Yeah he super sucks as a father type thing. Mercedes is a fun girl. She’s seen some shit, yet she is so motherly to all the Lions. She is not one to give up, even on her loser psycho brother.  

Bob is a model student. He watches the idiotic pranks that Sylvain pulls.  Fart jokes? That is third grade stuff. They have the big mock battle between the classes in a few weeks. Bob catches the redhead getting turned down by Felix when he invites his bff to town to check out some girls. Bob just happens to be near the door when Sylvain exits.

“Hey man, heard you may be heading to town. Need a wingman?” Bob offers.

“Only if you buy the first round.” Sylvain grins.

They head out the front gates to the town on the other side of the woods. Talking about their favorite types of girls, Sylvain is ready to hit up anything in a skirt by the time they hit the closest drinking establishment. Half an ale gone and the redhead has found a couple of prospective tarts ready to take a bite out of.  Bob takes a seat next to a young brunette cleric who shyly smiles as he sits. They chatter amicably, before the evening is over, he knows of her family, history, deity (not Sothis, gasp) how long she has done this, life’s dreams, battle experience, her strongest spells, affinities, favorite foods, shoe size and her birthday. Sylvain returns to the tavern a bit disheveled and a grin from ear to ear.  Bob bids his little friend good night. Once he is finished suffering through the heavily detailed victorious encounter that the handsome cavalier has just experienced, Bob changes direction of the conversation to the redhead himself.

“Dude, why do you act like such a fuckup? Felix hits it right on the nose every time and you just crumble. You are much smarter than you lead everyone to believe. You hold back on your magic. You can handle a lance like nobody’s business. If you practiced some, get your speed up, you’d be deadly. What’s the deal?” Bob doesn’t exactly hold back.

“Look,” Sylvain whines, “I know I’m a fuckup. My father has my life lined up for me. He’ll pick out who I marry, I’m stuck watching over the Gautier territory, making crestbabies to grow up and wield the Lance of Ruin. My brother was fucked over by my father for not having a crest. I had to go out and kill him. My own brother. My whole life is so messed up, why should I even try?”

Bob leans over and whispers into the redhead’s ear. “Man, the winds of change are coming. This whole godessdamned world is going to be flipped upside down. Just when you think it can’t get any worse it does. It’s gonna be a mess. Then one day, there’s going to be a light in that darkness, and the world is tilted again. All the slates are going to be wiped clean and I intend on being there to rewrite it all. I just want you to come along for the ride, dude.”

Sylvain looks at Bob like he’s got two heads. “How much did you have to drink while I was gone? That is some crazy heavy shit. Whatever it was, you gotta buy me some next time.” He laughs as they get back to the monastery gates.

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

Bob quickly becomes bored with the highly censored library in the monastery and decides to find where the one is in Abyss. Besides, he hates the skinwalker librarian. The creep likes to hand out anti church of Seiros paraphernalia to anyone that would take one. Bob knew of Abyss long before he had ever arrived. He found out more information about Garreg Mach on the outside than on the inside. Once you go past the front gate, the church folks zip their lips shut. He sneaks around a few tunnels, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone nearby. Noting some footsteps slowly moving closer, he blends in with the walls. Two girls walk past, he’s just about to let them keep going, but he recognizes one of them.

“Hapi?” Bob softly gasps.

“Dipshit! Long time no see, jerk!” Hapi runs over and hugs him.

The taller blonde girl stands, waiting for a proper introduction.

“Oh, Coco, this is my friend, Dipshit. He helped get me out of the terrible place where, you know, those guys were.” Hapi says.

The noble woman offers her hand, “Constance Von Nuvelle.  I am temporarily living here, however I strive to restore House Nuvelle to its finest glory.

Bob takes her hand, kissing the back of it, “I am very honored to make your acquaintance. How fortunate to meet such a beautiful woman as yourself in such an interesting location.”

Constance Nuvelle giggles at his introduction. Bob is all OMG she is so CUTE.

Hapi gives him the stink-eye “Aaanyyway, we should prolly take you to meet Yuribird. He’s the boss around here. “

So they meander over to the class room and meet Yuri. Tall, beautiful, with an air of mystery for kicks, Yuri greets the newcomer. “Any friend of Hapi’s is welcome.”

Bob explains his presence. “I’m not here to get in your business. Just wanted to check out your library. If I find anything useful to you, I know where to go with it. Mostly I am interested in all the crap that is going on topside.”

Yuri walks with him to the place where Seteth’s banished books have been stored. Bob tears into it like a man starved. Feeding on everything he can get his hands on.

Yuri decides to be sociable for a moment. “Whatcha looking for friend?”

Bob “the usual. Nabatheans, Agarthans, saints, Nemesis, relics, bloodlines, histories that may be a little closer to the truth than what they have upstairs. “

Yuri nods. “Sure. Have at it.”

“I’ll let you know if I find anything about the Crest of Aubin or the rest of you guys.” Bob offhandedly remarks looking through a few books.

Yuri starts cleaning under his nails with a particularly sharp dagger. “Funny, no one mentioned Crests, much less if anyone has one.”

“I can smell ‘em.” Bob says indifferently. “One of their experiments gone haywire. Hapi and I did time together. Ask her, she’s where I got my crest.”

“Have fun.” Yuri quips before heading out, stashing his dagger.

Bob is devouring this library. Opens every single book on every single shelf. Divides them into piles. Church, Magic, research, Agarthans, useful, and crap.

Encyclopedia of Fodlan’s Insects. Insects is what the Agarthans call Nabatheans. Winged bugs that need squashing. It also describes items forbidden by the church. These of course are things the Agarthans have used for centuries. Telescopes, viewing lenses, metal printing presses, decent condoms. Bob laughs out loud at the section on autopsies. Wouldn’t want you poking around inside someone’s head or chest. May accidentally find a crest stone or worse rattling around in there. Bob finishes sorting the upper levels of the Shadow Library. He hands a few books to Yuri to peruse, telling him to hang on to them, Bob would like a close look when he is done. Bob shuffles off with armful after armful of books, taking them to a quiet little nook that Yuri has permitted for him. Not much bigger than a closet, but its enough room to keep the books secure. Just as he’s on his last trips, who should happen to arrive at the library but Hubert von Vestra.

“Hey Bro, what the fuck you doin’ down here?” Bob impolitely and arrogantly asks.

“You. Why don’t you crawl back under your rock.” Hubert curses.

“Surprised to see you standing up. Usually you’re on all fours licking her high and mightynesses boots.” Bob shakes his head, getting his black and white bangs out of his eyes.

“Lady Edelgard deserves all of my praise and loyalty for everything she has been through. House Vestra shall always be at her service.” Hubert stiffly replies.

“Yeah, how’s that working out for you. She hasn’t been through half the shit I’ve been through. She’s barely holding it together. What’s fucking hilarious is she’s relying on you to help her keep it together. You still haven’t gotten over killing father. You should’ve let me know. I’d’ve done it in a heartbeat. Can’t wait till I can slit my beautiful mother’s throat and listen to her gurgling as the life flows from her.”

“He denounced you. You are not a Vestra.” The Black Eagle spits out.

Bob puts his hands on his hips. “Gimme a break. You and I are cut from the same mold. Same greasy black hair, at least I take care of mine. Same strong chin, handsome cheek bones, body structure. Hell we have the same color eyes from father. Just because I’m your half bro doesn’t mean I’m not part of your family. We’re both drawn to black and dark magic. We wield spells far above our fellow students. Just think of the things we could do together. “

“No. You are crude, undignified, unprodigious, and disgusting inside as well as out.” Hubert spits.

“We’re twins! I’m just the better looking one. Just ask anyone. You stand around like a starving vulture ready to pounce on everyone. Always looming and leering. That creepy guy intimidation thing only gets you so far. You need to work on your charm.” Bob schmoozes, moving closer to his half brother.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Hubert gives a disgusted frown and warps away.

“I love dicking with him. Fucking dickwad.” Bob laughs a deep and frightening laugh that scares some female out in the hallway who screams and runs away.

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

When Flayne goes missing, Bob becomes unhappy. She’s a sweet and innocent girl. Yeah, she’s got dragon blood and all that, but really she’s nice. Cinnamon roll nice. Too nice to be caught up in any Agarthan mess. And this kidnapping has Agarthan written all over it.

Bob shows up behind Hubert, smashing his face into a wall and nicking his half bro’s throat as he puts a dagger under his chin. “Tell her to call the Agarthan dogs back. Tell her how wrong it is to work with them. They are not your friends. The enemy of your enemy crap doesn’t work. They are only using you, not the other way around”

Hubert, bloody nosed from having it smashed into a wall mutters, “I will bring it up in our next conversation.”

“Yeah. Talk about it. All talk, no action.” Bob disappears through the wall. He materializes in the library behind Ashe.

“Ashe, take off your baseball cap.” The cool dark mage orders.

The grey haired cinnamon roll takes off his hat and sits very straight in the comfy chair in the library. He can feel the hand patting his head, then stroking his hair from the top of his head down to his neck.

“Good boy, you are a good boy Ashe.” Bob begins his mantra, praising and patting.

“Yes. I am a good boy.” Ashe repeats, closing his eyes.

Thirty minutes later Ashe is happily asleep curled up in the chair and Bob no longer has steam coming out of his ears. Bob looks around the library. Where is that Thomas creep anyway? Bob goes to the upper levels where Thomas’ desk is located. Pinned to the bulletin board is a cartoon of Rhea tied to a stake while they light a huge fire under her. A poster in Medieval script saying “Dragons must Die!!!” A stack of love poems devoted to Catherine, his forbidden love.  And a large, oversized rubber stamp that says “DENIED”. But no sign of Thomas. Bob decides to pay the gatekeeper a visit. He floats down the three flights of stairs to the main level. Not only because it is cool if you can float, but he also won’t trip over one of Claude’s 17 pairs of roller-skates he leaves everywhere, especially on stairs.

“Greetings Bob, nothing to report.” The gatekeeper happily greets the black and white haired mage, cheerfully looking up into his piercing citrine eyes.

“Hey Keeps, you ever see the librarian head out of these gates?” Bob asks him in a deep, sultry voice.

“Oh yeah, I guess he left almost a week ago. I bet he’s going out to chase down some overdue books. Had a large empty sack on his shoulder.” Gatekeeper smiles ever so widely, a blush to his cheeks as he stares deeper into Bob’s eyes.

Caspar overhears the conversation, gasps, and runs straight to Linhardt’s room to save his best friend from being sentenced to death for his lack of library returns.

Bob returns to his room for the night to ponder the mysteries of the universe, Flayn’s location, why does Felix do that thing with his hair, and why does Dimitri find Alois’ jokes funny? They suck so bad. Is it the madness?

-----------

Breakfast with the Blue Lions is enlightening. There are rumors of some sort of dude that dresses up like the grim reaper, complete with scythe that is creeping out the people in the village. Just one more thing to add to the list of the weird crap that is going on around this place. As he walks across the courtyard, some guy from the kitchen bumps into him.

“Hey, watch it, bud.” Bob giving the guy the eye.

Kitchen guy stops him. ”Have you seen Manuela?” he asks as blood is dripping down his arm.

Bob holds his hands out like he is holding two invisible watermelons to his chest, “Really big…?”

The guy nods.

Bob smirks, “Never heard of her. What were you doing?” Bob curiously asks.

“Peeling potatoes. Knife slipped.” Kitchen guy says, not looking so good. Bob knows to avoid potatoes for dinner.

“Head for the training grounds, healers are always hanging out there for practice opportunities.” Bob says before heading to the stable area.  Just as he walks past the Knights quarters, he hears a shriek in a perfect “C”. Probably Manuela. Just before he goes inside he stops a guy standing out front telling him to get the Blue Lions. You know, the group with the really tall hot blonde guy? Yeah, those Blue Lions.

The mage runs down the hall and finds a door partially open. He pushes it the rest of the way to find Manuela lying on the floor. She’s reaching out for something by the wall, as Bob gets closer he can smell them, Agarthans. He feels around and there’s a secret passage that opens wide to show a path down to the stink. The dark mage heads straight down the hole, lighting every torch on the way to guide the rest of his house. The Professor arrives at the bottom of the stairs to find all of the enemies in the immediate area are on fire. Bob is currently hurling fire spells through the gate at the enemies in the next room. “Die motherfuckers!! MUahahahahahahaha! Eat this!” Bob screams as he throws another fireball at one of the guys in the next room who tries to hide as far in a corner as possible, but still winds up having his robes catch fire and he screams in agony.

Byleth places her hand on Bob’s shoulder, whispering in his ear. “Calm down dude, you’re frightening the kids. Don’t scar our cinnamonrolls.”

Bob pulls a fist in front of his mouth. “Oopsie. Sorry. Was over excited. ::cough cough::”

The Blue Lions take over from here. Ashe unlocks the door as Felix and Sylvain rush in followed by Dedue and Ingrid. The professor heads to the left to unlock another gate.

Bob reaches over to pat Ashe on the head. “Good boy, you are such a good boy.”

Ashe smiles as his eyes glaze the slightest bit.

They move forward quickly wiping out the soldiers that are nearby. Felix and Sylvain take some warp tiles that send them to various places in the area where they can deactivate trap tiles. They all are joined together at the door in front of the death knight. Ashe opens the door. Bob’s already materialized in the room and hitting the big masked dude on the horsie with Dark Spikes T when the Flame Emperor shows up to send horsie boy off.

Flame Emperor “Go home Creepy McCreepface, you done good. I am the Flame Emperor. I will reforge the world.” And with that they both warp off.

Professor “We need to get these kids out of here.”

Bob, “I’ll grab Flayne, leave that other one, it smells bad.”  He tosses Flayne over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Bob carries her all the way to the infirmary. When putting her on a cot, he notices that her shirt sleeves were sliced open to her armpits and there are multiple holes in her arms where the evil bloodsuckers have taken her blood multiple times. He whispers to Manuela that the girl is a few quarts low, then he leaves.

Bob heads straight to Hubert’s room. His half brother isn’t there, so he waits for him to show up. So he’s not too bored, he goes into his brothers notes on spells and adds a few extra lines here and there to Sigils and changes ingredients on some poisons.

As soon as Hubert enters the door he is tripped then given a knee in the back while his dear half sibling repeatedly smashes his face into the floor.

“I told ::slam:: you not ::slam:: to work ::slam:: with them. ::slam slam:: Fucking idiot! ::slam slam slam::

Hubert’s nose is quite crooked and he can’t breathe correctly through it now. “I toad her, but she woodit lissen.”

Bob continues his rant. “Now we have a kid that suddenly appears from being gone last year. “ He definitely does airquotes on the word “suddenly”. “She’s one of them, I know it. Dump her. Dump the Agarthans. And wash your hair sometimes, ew.” Bob disappears through the floor, listening to Hubert call him a few names that weren’t in the book. Bob needs to write those down.

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

It was time for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion and no Deerz allowed. Byleth has been working them pretty hard, advancing Bob as quickly as she can in magic certifications. He’s got reason down better than anyone in the group, so he’s been teaching them more advanced spellcasting. Byleth doesn’t say much but she catches on fast. If you can get Annette to shut up and concentrate, she does an amazing job. Mercedes doesn’t have her heart in it but manages to get a few reason spells down, Fire for sure, and Thunder is getting better. Felix is great with Thunder. Sylvain would be great with fire, but he screws around too much.

The horn signals for the battle to begin. Bob immediately heads for the back lines of the Black Eagles, materializing behind Linhardt, stabbing him with a blade covered with a powerful sleeping concoction. Lin would probably thank him. Bob heads over to behind Marianne in the Golden Deer. He whispers “good night, sweetie” in her ear before he holds a cloth covered with the same powerful sleeping potion. Lying her carefully on the ground he hides out in the nearby bushes to find out where Lysithia has gone off to.

He watches Ferdinand and Sylvain get into it. Handsome redheads on horses stab at each other repeatedly with pointed sticks. Finally, Sylvain gets the upper hand, but not by much. Ferdinand is out and heads to the boundary lines. Sylvain heads back to Mercedes for a bit of patching up. Annette is working on whittling down Ignatz, blowing his arrows off course as she attacks with wind spells. The professor is taking out Raphael and Claude.  Bob decides to throw a mire at Hilda. She screams about her hair and how gross the magic muck feels all over her and gives up. Felix is giving Leonie a workout.  Sylvain is back and taking on Lorenz. Lorenz throws a decent Fire spell at Sylvain, causing the redhead’s horse to rear up, he still is able to stay on the steed and then counter Lorenz with a decent lance jab that knocks the grapeheaded guy off his horse.

The battle continues on. It is between the lions and eagles, the deer are out. Its very helpful at this point that the eagles have no healer except for Dorothea. Her magic is going to be defensive not attacking for the most part. Edelgard marches down the field heading for Dimitri and Dedue, followed by Hubert and Caspar. Bob lost track of Petra and Felix, not sure who won that match. Bob grabs a large wooden sword lying on the ground and materializes behind Hubert. Swinging the flat edge of the blade at full force at the back of Hubert’s head, Bob provides Hubert with the headache of the month.

“Blockhead.” Bob smirks as he watches the dark mage fall and Bob disappears into the ground just under the swing of Edelgard’s axe. Bob shows up in a copse of trees not far away watching the rest of the blue lions completely wipe out the black eagles.

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

Bob is in Abyss, in the laboratory of the most creative and beautiful sorceress he has ever met.

“Darling, would you be so kind to join me for lunch today? I would be ever so honored and grateful if you would grace my humble presence with your enlightening company.” Bob croons.

“Ever the charming one, pumpkin. However I must decline as I have serious potions to concoct today and they simply cannot mix themselves.” Constance smiles ever so sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“Ahh. I so adore your everworking and brilliant mind, however you do need nourishment for your delectable body. If I may, I will retrieve lunch from above and bring it back to provide you with the energy needed to complete your serious tasks. “ Bob dashingly offers, his hands on his hips, his hair waving in the breeze, a sparkle shows on his teeth with a ding.

“I suppose I must acquiesce to obtaining sustenance. Having your handsome face as accompaniment is also a great pleasure. Please do go, with haste and fetch our midday feast.” Coco wiggles her fingers, encouraging him to hurry.

“But of course my flower, my jewel. I shall return poste haste.” Bob says, holding his palm open for her to gently place her hand within it so that he may delicately kiss the back of her hand, and then lick it for good measure.

He then disappears through the floor, only a minute later to walk through the wall behind her.

“Every moment away tears at my heart, my sweet lady. I am overjoyed to have returned and bask in your beauty once again. Please join me.” The handsome dark mage waves a hand at the beautifully set table complete with two darling candelabras with Ashen Wolves colored candles, napkins and tablecloth.  

They sit on the same side of the table. Bob smiles and he feeds her bite after bite until she is satisfied. Next time he may even offer to chew if for her if she so desires. He takes a napkin and lightly dabs at the corner of her mouth.

“There my precious one.” Bob coos in her ear. “Have you been sated? Is there anything else that I may obtain for you? I would pull the stars from the sky if you would only ask for them.”

Constance smiles, a bit of green something stuck on her teeth, “Nah, I’m good. “

Bob helps her from her chair and walks her back to the laboratory table. “Ahh. Then, although it pains me to do so< I shall leave you to your work.” He says before snapping his fingers, clearing the table.  

Bob dips her, giving her a face sucking kiss until her skin on her cheeks is almost purple, as he stands her back up she is completely gasping for breath, trying to cool herself with her fan. She has a severe case of the vapors. He then rises into the air, disappearing through the ceiling.

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

Remire Village. Nice place if you like living in Hell!!!! Whole place is aflame. Dimitri is acting like Frankenstein’s monster getting creeped out by the flames everywhere giving him flashbacks of Duscur. Felix is getting flashbacks of feral Dimitri. Sylvain is getting flashbacks of the girls he had dated here, they’re all monsters now and after him. Ingrid is having flashbacks of when she was camping and her marshmallows AND her hotdog fell into the campfire. Bob is busy covering the eyes of Annette and Ashe to keep them from as much of the horror as possible, the smell around him of burnt cinnamon is concerning. Somehow they save the villagers, Thomas’ skin is removed from Solon, a pasty white older than dirt uglier than sin guy. Professor B beats up the old guy pretty quick and pastyboy heads for the hills.

The Death Knight is there. Bob pulls the cinnamon rolls over and whispers in their ears.

“Hey kids, would you like to see your dear Uncle Bob get rid of the McKreepface guy on the horse? I’ll let you laugh at him while he burns, okay?”

Ashe and Annette nod their heads very quickly has Bob hands them each a bowl of popcorn and a box of milkduds for the show.

“Huzza-huzza-HOOM! You’re about to meet your DOOOOOOM!” Bob cackles as the magic of Dark Spikes T whips from his fingers and chomps on the body of the Death Knight like Godzilla eating buildings in Tokyo. The only thing left of the dude is a Dark Seal that Bob wraps in a pink bow and hands to Professor Byleth.

“Don’t you want this, Bob?” the Professor asks.

“Nope, mother got me one for my birth day. Figured you could use a spare.” The dark mage quips.

The Flame Emperor shows up. “Deathknight, you’re having too much fuuuuuuuuuck! What did you do to my pet?”

“Chomp chomp bitch.” Bob says making hand gestures like his fingers are teeth chomping towards her face.

Jeralt is angry. “So you’re the one that did this to my favorite village?”

“No, no, you got it all wrong.” The Flame Emperor backpedals. “Yeah, Solon works with me, but man I didn’t know he was going to pull this shit.”

“Come to the dark side!” Flameface pleads. “I will give you cookies…”

“We got Mercedes, your cookies suck compared to ours. Oh, and you suck too.” Says Byleth.

“Look, Solon and his buddies, they are powerful. Together, me, you, The Sword of the Creator. We can take them down.” Flame face

Bob pulls his right hand into his sleeve to make it look like it’s been cut off. “I’ll never rule the universe with you!”

Dedue runs up saying his Princeliness is missing. Bob grabs his two cinnamon rolls protectively.

“Don’t let Mr. CrazySpaghettihead scare you. Lets go get some icecream.” Bob says leading them to the monastery.

[arisalty]

i’ve been here the whole time singing you a song

This one-shot was made for @notveryglittery , whose birthday is today, so Happy Birthday!

Tbh I planned the basic outline and wasn't even going to introduce quite a few characters but I did and I went with it - I hope yall like it :) As this is my first time writing Royality, any constructive criticism is accepted!

lowkey want to plan something else for this now but also don't want to set another target just yet as im a bit busy and dont wanna overload myself :/ yikes oh well

Dani, Happy Birthday! Enjoy this Royality!

AO3

Word count: 

Roman had noticed a few things lately. One at the forefront of his mind was that Patton Heart was really fucking adorable.

Of course, nobody could know of this. If anyone of his friends found out he would be screwed.

Yes, his whole friend group were gay (or ace, or bi, or pan or nonbinary) disasters, but they were also incredibly good wing-people, with a high rate of getting two people dating -- and Roman didn’t want to ruin the naturalness of their friendship.

And worse he couldn’t let anyone know that The Emperor had a crush. And by extension, that meant that he couldn’t allow his crime-fighting partner (and asshat of an older brother) to find out; Virgil’s tongue was always looser when donned with the costume of Poison Shadow. And the city would be in an uproar of the thought of The Emperor liking someone romantically- and if it ever got out who it was, it would put Patton in serious danger.

But Roman couldn’t help but notice the little smiles Patton gets when talking about some of the animals in the shelter he volunteered at, or the ways his eyes light up when he gushed about the heroes of the city.

The way his open gaze instilled a feeling of trust.

And dear lord it was not helping the gay mess that was Roman Kingston.

“Alright, shithead, what’s up with you?”

“I tell you and I’m doomed you insolent sloth.” The owner of the monotonous voice shot a glance at the prying sibling.

“Right. That’s really fucking useful to know.” Dripping sarcasm; the asshat was not only prying but also getting annoyed now! Yay!

“Oh, piss off. Let me be a disaster in peace.”

The elder stood, shaking his head, before walking to the other edge of the rooftop they were perched on.

“Hurry up! Today is a sparring day.” Virgil, seeing Roman making no attempt to move, pushed forward with his mind, pushing the darkest shadows up until they were able to slap Roman across the face. “Come on, idiot. The night isn’t gonna last forever!”

Grumbling, the man in his late teens stood from his position on the edge of the rooftop, reluctantly turning at the end of the roof, with sarcastic jazz hands at his sides.

And just like that, they were sparring. Virgil completely flattened The Emperor in 3 separate rounds before some sense seemed to be knocked into the dramatic hero’s head. The furious flashes of light and dark clashed throughout the area, silent except the heavy breathing of the men, and the jibes thrown between the space between them.

It was another while before they were tired, as their sparring took place at least twice a week- they needed to stay in shape even over their sports and workouts.

Roman sat on the edge of the rooftop next to his brother, slowly regaining his breath.

When the villain attacked, it was not appreciated by the two teens. They were tired and generally unwilling to have to use their already exhausted powers. Their fighting was lacklustre and they took any moment they could to stop and perch off railings or on rooftops.

Flashes of light across the night were brief but would warp the situation, allowing shadows, viscous as ink moved away in slow patterns, stalking the villain until finding it’s perfect time to strike, pushing the villain backwards, dragging them forwards then dropping them off the edge of the building.

Yet the villain didn’t waver in power. At a mere flick of fingers, the Emperor fell backwards, barely left any time to make a platform for him to stagger onto.

How were they going to get this person then?

“What does your immoral soul bother us with, foul villain?”

“Oh, nothing really. I was just bored, so I decided to mess around with these powers I earnt the other day.”

The pale blue light of the moon offset by the warmer glow from the Emperor's hand gave enough light to see fangs flash under the mask that covered the upper half of their face.

“Why set about destroying the city, fuckwad? Why not just, I don’t know, sleep, like a normal person?”

“Ew, no, sleep? That drains me more. Plus, don’t we all need to have a little bit of chaos in our lives?”

Roman could feel the eyes rolling in his elder’s head.

“What the fuck about us two says put together, dipshit? We’re fucking disasters!”

“My fair partner has a valid point. We are fucking disasters ,” Roman eyed the inky lattice forming under the villain's feet for a second before he continued. “We’re both messes of human beings in general- have you seen his room, it's an atrocity - and my room has far too much stuff that I am far too attached to get rid of. Then there's the point that we’re both doing this along with studying for school which in itself drains your energy and the final point is, well,”—the smirk thrown his way by Poison Shadow was all he needed—”We really aren’t all that dumb.”

Poison Shadow ripped his fist upwards, the shadowed lattice folding and bending around the villain, as the Emperor reached out and began to set the still fluid shadows. The cage kept the villain in, and finally, the villain showed some kind of emotion; fear radiated from their composure; arms wrapped around their torso, fist fiddling with their cloak edge, shoulders up to their ears.

Roman pitied the now much smaller opponent. Ego and expectations of power high in their mind with newfound strength ruled their minds. The Emperor turned away, patting Poison Shadow on the back as went after he silently checked his brother was okay with dealing with him.

As he crossed the bridged gap between buildings, he heard his brother’s cry, and then he felt himself flying backwards over buildings, body limp as a rag doll as his brain tried to comprehend which was up or down or the sky or ground. Once he finally stopped moving, he found himself winded and bruised and somehow not broken- though he felt it- on a balcony. With a very familiar curious face peering down at him.

Patton. Fucking. Heart.

It was his luck, wasn’t it? He’d get thrown about like an unused toy to be left in his worst state on the balcony of one of his favourite people in the world.

“Oh my goodness, are you all right? Is anything broken? Do you need some water, food, comfort?” The stream of babble poured from Patton, his pale blue eyes wide with worry, both searching his body to analyse for damage and keeping eye contact to calm the disorientated hero.

Thank goodness these powers strengthen my bones and skin.

“Uhm… I think… I’ll be,” The Emperor was interrupted by a fit of coughing, which he dealt with but rolling onto his front and slowly making his way to his knees. “Actually, could I, uh, have a glass of water.”

Patton nodded earnestly, and even through the lingering dizziness pounding in his mind, Roman could make out the curls of Patton’s hair reflecting the cool blue of the moon. The smaller figure retreated into the building, just as Roman felt a buzz in his pocket.

Pulling out the smartphone, he huffed at the once again smashed screen to read the text he received.

Very Early Womb-mate - 11:35

-- sorry dude didnt see that coming

-- dick had us fooled into thinkin he was subdued

--you went flying tho, it was kinda hilarious

-- i got it handled, he’s trapped until police arrive

Me - 11:38

--oh ok

Very Early Womb-mate - 11:39

-- u ok? Or do i need to pick u up

Me - 11:40

-- nah it’s cool i landed on a classmates balcony, just a bit dizzy

Very Early Womb-mate - 11:40

-- cool, dickwad, dont reveal anything

Me - 11:40

-- bold of you to assume i would

-- k byeeee xxx :)))))

Very Early Womb-mate - 11:41

-- :/

Patton returned, carrying the glass.

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to get back, my parents were wondering what happened and I figured you didn't want to be crowded so I just made up a lie and then they got me to do a quick job and uh— here.”

Roman took the drink, downing as much of it as he could, before stopping to try and stand.

“Tough villain, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess. I was knocked back ‘cos I was caught off guard. I thought Poison had got them - he was inside a huge cage, you see - so when he lashed out again after being subdued it surprised us.”

Roman looked over the city wistfully. The sky was clear and the air was fresh, with little to no breeze. Roman took this time to notice that Patton was wearing only his pyjamas and a zip hoodie thrown over the top.

“Do you need to help Poison Shadow then? It looked like you were thrown far.”

“Nah, Patton, he sent a few texts to say he handled it.”

Patton nodded in understanding, before cocking his head sideways.

“Wait, you know me?”

Shit.

Roman ran through his words and cursed at his loose mouth.

“Uh, oh yeah,” Roman coughed out, scratching at his neck, unconsciously picking at the skin. “You, uh, go to the same school as me. We’re in the same year, actually.”

You’re oversharing! The voice of his brother rang out in his head.

“Wait, really?”

God, Roman absolutely adored the way Patton’s eyes lit up, the tiny specks of green almost glowing in the natural light around them. Anything else and Roman might actually die on the spot. He just thanked his younger-little-dramatic-shit self and wanted to hide his and Virge’s faces from the world - at least Patton wouldn't be able to see his glowing red face.

“That’s so cool! I could tell you were a teen, I didn’t realise you were like, that close to me!” Patton waved his hands about excitedly, and that’s it. Roman felt like he was melting into a puddle. His friend was so cute, and he just wanted to hold Patton to his chest and treasure him and spoil him with cakes and serenades and movie nights.

Roman somehow managed to keep talking for a while, but he was going to go insane soon. He just wanted to give Patton a hug, goddamnit !

They were shook from their conversation by the door opening to reveal Declan Heart, whose eyes flew open at the visitor Patton apparently had.

“Oh my god, Logan, come out here,” he hissed out of the side of his mouth, mismatching eyes darting from the sheepish look on Patton's face to the city known hero on his house’s balcony.

When Declan’s twin cast appeared in the doorway, Patton waved, somewhat cheery, opposed to Roman’s more fidgety behaviour, his skin prickling under the gazes of the two older twins. He had only met Logan on one occasion, and he was intimidated, to say the least.  

“Suprise!” Patton giggled, with jazz hands waving at his brothers, very different from the delivery Virgil would have given in this situation.

“I knew that there was a lie somewhere in your excuse earlier!” Declan’s quiet exclamation made its way into the silence, but this just made Roman more uncomfortable under the blank stare he was receiving from Logan.

"Well, I had to because otherwise, this ," — Patton waved at the group they had formed around the hero — "would happen and the last thing that needs to happen after being thrown really far and being bashed about is being crowded. Plus, this was my lucky day." Patton giggled, throwing a wink sideways to Roman, and oh no , Roman was a mess. He felt like spontaneously combusting while gripping his heart and dramatically dying on the floor where he stood.

Yet the only reaction to this was somehow a brief panic before a smile broke out and Roman was able to laugh along a bit.

"Patton, why, might I ask, did you conceal this from both me and Declan? I understand your point on crowded-ness but you also know of our fascination with the heroes and our possible future career paths."

Logan's words made Patton look down guiltily, revealing that Logan's words were true, but he fiddled with his bracelet on his wrist before looking upwards towards the elder twin.

"Because... Because I didn't want to?"

Patton then frowned, looking almost... angry. But not towards anyone- his gaze was at the floor, more as if he was angry at himself. Logan let a smile slip onto his lips, the same teasing smile once Virgil managed to wind up Roman.

"Valid reasoning. I know for a fact my excuse would be more or less the same."

Patton brightened up again, but Roman didn't have a chance to admire him again as Declan had burst out with an exclamation asking for an autograph.

This whisked away Roman's attention for a while, ending up in a selfie with the three with his magic glowing through his veins for proof of authenticity and various things being signed as well as a note Roman felt obligated to write to the Heart parents for their (unknown) hospitality.

He even got all of them to make a small piece of memorabilia for him to keep to remember them should he not be able to visit them again. Logan gave a small origami gift, Declan a yellow feather. In Patton's case, he had to think for a few seconds before his face absolutely lit up. He rushed a tiny, absolutely minuscule potted cactus, the plant itself being about the size of his thumb, to roman, with the most adorable and sincere face.

"Here! Take Ophelia - I grew her myself. That being said, it's probably best you don't have a feel of her , she's a bit prickly!"

A groan rumbled in Logan's throat at the pun, contrasting the chuckles from Roman and Dec, followed by the all too familiar buzz of Roman's phone.

Very Early Womb-mate - 12:56

-- What the FuCK you ass?? its been an hour or so what the fuck is taking you so long?????

-- mom's gonna start to freak, u need to get home as soon as u can

-- idiot

Me - 11:56

-- aksdflaksdhfkljkj what the fuck i lost track of time heck i'll get home asap

Roman shoved his cracked phone into a pocket and grinned sheepishly.

"My brother has warned me against impending doom known as my mother and her lectures if I don't return home soon. I thank you all for your lovely donations of memorabilia and allowing me to stay. However, it is nearly 1 o'clock and we have been out here an awfully long time. Farewell, fellow humans!"

Roman turned away, climbing over the railing and forming a golden step of light in front of him.

"Ah, right, that reminds me. We were sent up here to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep up here Patton. We got sidetracked though. Come on, Pat." Logan chimed.

As Roman was leaping away over steps made for him, he could faintly hear Patton respond about watering 'Candice' and 'Bobby', which he could assume were plants, before heading inside.

Roman luckily escaped with his hide when he managed to sneak in through the window just in time before his mom burst in, looking for him. He used the excuse of being on his phone as a reason for being awake - which did admittedly get his phone taken away - but at least he wouldn't have to listen to a rant.

And as he settled to sleep, he was caught up in thinking. Remembering. Adoring.

Yes, Roman was a mess, but at least tonight he could sleep easy after the beautiful image of Patton in the moonlight, playful glint in his eyes; him holding out a tiny cactus supplied with a pun; his excited face once he realised something interesting.

It wasn't much, but to Roman it was everything.

[mystery-moose]

FIC: Angus McDonald and the Flight of the Flying V (5/?)

[AO3 link]

They’ve come a long way, but even ten years after the world was saved, they’re still not quite where they should be. A whim, a missing painting, and a handful of near-death experiences help a flip wizard and his apprentice bridge the gap.

Taako does his best. Angus takes some risks. Introductions are made, bonds are tested, and lessons are learned — better late than never.

The route Angus chose led them to a big square near the center of Neverwinter, a crossroads of a dozen different streets converging onto a central marketplace packed with people from every corner of Faerun. There was a clock tower here, covered in ornate golden filigree, stretching up into the sky. It was one of the tallest buildings outside the noble quarter, and besides serving as an easily visible landmark, kept excellent time.

It was a little past eleven, now. Angus knew the schedules well enough to figure they'd be able to score tickets easy enough, but he wanted to avoid the afternoon rush.

Taako wasn't exactly cooperating.

"How much?"

The aarakocra merchant pointed to the sign hanging from his cart. "Fifty gold, sixty for the shawl."

Taako blanched, the cloak he'd been admiring draped over his hands. "Sixty?! I wouldn't pay thirty for this thing!"

"Price is the price, wingless," the merchant said firmly. "You wanna haggle, go bother the rakshasa."

"Why would I haggle?" Taako scoffed, rolling up the cloak. "Stuff ain't worth my time, anyway."

Angus stood behind Taako, glancing around. He always kept one eye open and a hand on his coin purse whenever he traveled through the market square; getting his pocket picked one unlucky afternoon had taught him that lesson.

Good thing, too, since he was attentive enough to see Taako slip a scarf from underneath the cloak he was replacing on the cart. He tucked it behind his back with the practiced ease of a petty thief.

"This is all fine-count Calimshan silk, dunce," the merchant shot back, his feathers ruffling. "You won't find better prices north of Memnon!"

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, thug," Taako drawled with a smug grin. "This is a big-ass brand-name markup for chumps, and we both know it."

"Markup?!"

"This is some cast-off outlet shit you got from a thrift store in Tethyr, my dude! You're tripling your money at thirty gold."

Angus touched Taako's shoulder. "Sir? We should really get moving."

As Taako turned to face Angus, he reached over and discreetly pulled the scarf from Taako's belt. Taako's eyebrow twitched, but he grinned and laughed it off.

"No big shakes, boychik," he said casually. "Nothing here worth these prices, anyway."

The aarakocra grumbled, his wings unfurling slightly. "Forty five!"

"For the shawl?"

"No, the cloak!"

He turned away again, disinterested. The merchant made a disgusted noise.

"Fine! Forty five for the shawl!" He grumbled. "You're scaring off my business."

Taako turned and grinned. "Deal!" he said triumphantly, reaching for his coin purse while Angus tried to stealthily replace the scarf on the cart.

Suddenly, Taako spun and his ears pricked up visibly. Angus was about to ask what was wrong when he heard it himself — a sudden crash, loud and clattering, followed by the sound of screams almost drowned out by the noise of the crowd. He barely had time to react before Taako tackled him to the ground.

A wagon, small and built for city travel, crashed through the market stall behind them. People scattered in every direction as it raced through the square, heedless of pedestrians, bouncing over the cobblestones and coming within two feet of where Taako and Angus lay. They watched as the aarakocra took to the air while the wagon splintered his cart, then, accompanied by the screeching crash of wood and metal, it was suddenly stopped by a spell — Bigby's Hand, glowing a neon red, had appeared in front of the wagon and blocked its path.

Angus pushed himself to his feet. Taako was alongside him, dusting himself off. "The hell did that come from?"

"Alright, everyone, please step back!"

A woman, tall and broad shouldered with a long braid wrapped around her neck and a scar on her forehead, marched out of the crowd. She wore shiny full-plate armor and a tabard bearing the sigil of Neverwinter. Angus recognized her instantly as Dierdre Boudicca, Lord-Commander of the militia.

"This isn't a show!" she shouted, marching forward towards the wreckage. "If you need medical attention, speak up! Healers are on their way!"

"Hey! You still have to pay for that!"

He glanced over his shoulder — Taako was halfway through stuffing a shawl into his purse, smiling innocently while the merchant perched with his arms crossed on the ruins of his cart. Angus gave him a look, and Taako rolled his eyes before pulling out his coin purse.

Angus turned back to the crime scene. Militia men and women swarmed around Boudicca, pushing people away and trying to establish a cordon. The massive spectral hand disappeared as another woman he recognized stepped out of the crowd — shorter, younger, and clad in typical militia leathers and longcoat rather than heavy armor. Angus waved and managed to catch her attention.

He liked Silvia a lot. She was clever, compassionate, and had a strong sense of right and wrong. They'd collaborated on a few cases together, and though he'd been prepared for obstinacy, she'd helped as much as she could. It was more than he'd expected from anyone in the militia; private detectives weren't exactly popular with law enforcement. Angus had come to think of her as a very good friend, and he appreciated her help.

(He also appreciated her hair, thick and curly and tied behind her head. And her eyes, hazel brown set against mahogany skin. And her nose, a bit bigger than his, which scrunched up when she laughed. He didn't make any particular judgments about these things, of course. He just noticed them, that's all.)

"McDonald!" Silvia said with a grin as she approached. "Don't tell me this is one of yours?"

Angus smiled back. "No such luck. Can't expect every crook to just fall into your lap."

"You'd be surprised," she said, glancing back towards the wagon. Boudicca was directing others as they hauled the driver out. "Just sort of stumbled into this one, believe it or not. Wanted thief rounds a corner right into the Lord-Commander doing her weekly inspection. He bolts, hijacks a wagon, and there I am doing my rounds when he peels around a corner into the market."

"Jeez. Talk about bad luck."

"For him, sure." She turned back and smirked. "It's all a matter of perspective, right?"

Angus chuckled. Then his eyebrows rose. "Oh, hey, can I ask you for a favor?"

"Sure. What's up?"

He pulled out his notebook, tore out half a page and handed it to her.

"I'm working a new case," he explained. "Nothing I can talk about, yet, but if you happen to hear anything about a noted thief in town, or run into any seventh-level Evocation, could you let me know?"

"Real hush-hush, huh?" she drawled, taking the scrap of paper from him.

"Sorry," Angus said sincerely. "Client privilege."

"It's cool. I get it." Silvia stuck it in her pocket. "I'll keep an ear to the ground."

"Thanks, lieutenant. Really."

"No problem." Silvia leaned around to look past him. "Who's your friend?"

Uh oh.

Taako shoved Angus to the side as he stepped forward. "Hail and well met and stuff," he said, tipping his hat and grinning his Cheshire cat grin. "Name's Taako. What's your handle, maydl?"

Silvia's eyes widened as she glanced briefly at Angus. "So you're Taako, huh?"

"That's what it says on the merch! Why?" Taako leaned in conspiratorially. "Has Agnes been telling stories? Because I can guarantee at least half of them are true. Which half is up to you!"

She laughed, and extended her hand. "Lieutenant Silvia Hayden, Neverwinter militia. Nice to finally meet you, Taako."

Taako shook her hand firmly. He cocked an eyebrow. "You moisturize?"

"Got to, in this climate."

He nodded approvingly. "Nice."

Angus cleared his throat. "We're, uh, actually in a hurry, so—"

"News to me, my dude!" said Taako. Then he turned back to Silvia. "Why don't we do lunch? Boy's rail thin, needs to put on some ell-bees."

Angus sputtered. Silvia grinned, but shook her head.

"Can't," she said apologetically. "Got some legwork of my own to do. Angus isn't the only one who has to work for a living."

"Yeah, speaking of—"

"How about dinner then? His place." Taako leaned forward. "I make a mean risotto!"

"We should really get going—"

"Sounds great," Silvia said, barely restraining a laugh as she glanced between the two of them. "But I've got a thing. Rain check?"

"Sure, sure! Anytime's cool for us!" Taako said cheerily, elbowing Angus in the ribs. "Ain't that right, Angarang?"

Angus got between them and started to push Taako away. "Sorry, really gotta go! Talk to you later, lieutenant!"

"Give us a buzz!" Taako shouted over Angus' shoulder.

The moment they were through the crowd and out of the market, Taako burst into laughter.

"That wasn't funny!" Angus said, stamping his foot like he was eleven years old again.

"Au contraire, mon frere!" Taako managed to gasp. "That was fantastic!"

Angus moaned and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses while Taako steadied himself on his shoulder.

"Oh, kiddo," he sighed. "What a gift."

"To whom?"

"Me, mostly," Taako said honestly. "But don't worry, we'll get you that date yet."

Angus took off his cap and hit Taako over the head with it, which only made him laugh harder. "She is a friend and colleague!"

"Oh, don't play dumb!" he retorted, grinning wickedly. "She's your fucking crush, dipshit!"

Angus continued to hit Taako with his cap as the elf cackled maniacally. The final blow knocked his hat off. With a harrumph, Angus slammed his cap back on his head and stomped off down the street. He heard Taako follow close behind, still giggling, and the telltale sound of his umbrella wooshing through the air as he swung it idly.

In all honesty, that had gone about as well as he'd expected it to.